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#but on god its canon ill make sure of it

thedeadthree · 1 year

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— TAG GAME.

TAGGED BY the dear @marivenah and @leviiackrman to answer a few questions! ty ty so much love!

TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @jendoe, @kingsroad, @chuckhansen, @risingsh0t, @queennymeria, @denerims, @phillipsgraves, @jillvlntine, @morvaris, @aartyom, @minaharkers, @unholymilf, @leviiackrman, @jacobseed, @arklay, @corvosattano, @jackiesarch, @malefiicarum, @pearlcscent, @shellibisshe, @weisshaupts, @shadowglens, @leondaltons, @adelaidedrubman, @florbelles, @belorage, @confidentandgood, @girlbosselrond, @thee-morrigan, @rosebarsoap, @fragilestorm, @lacunafiction, @noonfaerie and you!

THREE SHIPS: inspired by mari <3!

THREE CANON SHIPS: geralt x yennefer, corlys velaryon x rhaenys targaryen, and arianne martell x daemon sand!

THREE OC SHIPS: iovanna dayne x daemon targaryen, edelgard vanderweyden x reese verner, maekar targaryen x aeryal arvel (carolines dear!)

THREE MUTUALS SHIPS: mo @kingsroad's alyse x aegon (they mean the world to me!), ash @unholymilf's iconic varya x roman (forever the moment!), airika @chuckhansen's nina x adam (the loveliest! they're dear to me!)

FIRST SHIP: oo ok ok i want to say my first ship was I think? rajaion and ena from fire emblem path of radiance? that or? selina kyle/catwoman and bruce wayne!

CURRENTLY CONSUMING: an iced coffee ajanjnsk bc i am a responsible adult <3.

CURRENTLY WATCHING: my 3829838th rewatch of house of the dragon <3 am i surprised? nay nay! its not at all for oc lore! (leg says like a liar jnjanj <3)

LAST MOVIE: the batman! <3 and one i recently adored seeing was bullet train as well! (ty ty orion and ash for introducing me bc of ur ocs u dears u!)

LAST SONG: its been stuck in my head all week! the fruits by paris paloma <3

CURRENTLY READING: rereading fernweh saga by the dear aelsa! and fire and blood by george rr martin <3 (leg once again says its bc they want know more of what’s in store for the characters and not for oc lore at all like a liar <3)

CURRENTLY CRAVING: my mom is making sauce so i have pasta on the brain <3

#only if you want to! 🤍🕊#ahh this was so cute! and lovely to get me back into the swing of things <3 #t: about leg #i would also like to say that all of the ships of my mutuals with their dears are my favorite <3 THEYRE ALL SO GOOD #IYKYK on the fe ship the way ten year old me watching the cutscenes for that game on yt and that scene had me SOBBING #i fully blame my appreciation of tragic/doomed dynamics on them AHH #AND OF COURSEE the one and only duo <3 can cite my brand! my appreciation for enemies/rivals dynamics on them!#(bruce can have two hands for sel and polly bc i said so <3)#AELSA I HAVE BEEN MEANING TO SINCE I READ IT ON RELEASE DAY NEED TO SHRIEK ABOUT FERNWEH I MUST AHH #if y'all haven't yet YOU SHOULD YOU SHOULD i mean it was the loveliest read floored and blown AWAY absolutely STUNNED it was so good!#(but im never not floored by ur talent and its a HIGH honor truly to know u and be mutuals AND GET TO SUPPORT AHH)#my friend wrote an if an it was PUBLISHEDD and u all should read it <3 #AND I SAWWW THE DENIAL ROUTE AND THE PIANO CHOICE I DID I DID AND WHEN I TELLU I SHRIEKED AND WAS SOBBING??#ill be sure to be sobbing for eternity! R VERNER U MEAN THE WORLD TO ME and j I need to make a dear for them I HAVE TO #I mean????? just their dynamic with the mc I was on the FLOOR u know? and the nightmare scenes!!!!!! my god! the bestest!#ok ok also like...... new song with PEAK una energy that has been living in the psyche rent free that I found in my rec songs <3 FLOORED #''angel' he calls me does he know that im falling from a precipice that I tripped off long ago?' ->#''your so pure' he says does he know im forsaken? the original sinner but soon you'll know for if im going down I guess ill take you w/ me?#LIKE I COULD RECITE ALL OF IT FOR HER BUT UHHH im fine im fine totally really not at all shrieking about una at all from this <3 #two of the top ships that live in my head rent free that are canon being asoiaf ships <3 AAAND THE OC SHIPS they won this year already <3 #AND I MEAN ALWAYS IN MY HEART ALWAYS ON MY MIND Eddie and reese <3 #ok ok im suuper thinking vanna and daemy may be the first piece? this week ive done a lot of thinking of them and..... they <3 #leg.txt #leg.tagged #MO I CANT WAIT TO CATCH UP ON ITR+R GODD THE WAY THEYRE JUST <3 they mean the world to me!#can't wait to yell about them and be floored by ur writing!!!! VARYA ALWAYS IN MY MIND AND NINA AND ADAM ALWAYS ON MY HEART <3 #listen i read the t*wow preview and? ari x daemy? SO GOOD. (and very excited for caro's dears lilyana x daemy he deserves it! he's lovely!)

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krashoutluv · 4 months

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Arkham Knight Relationship HCS !! <3

( light nsfw, mostly SFW tho!! )

literally my wife ( i made this pic idc abt creds i just wanna talk abt it)

SFW !! <3

dying on this hill when i say basically any red hood would be soo yummy with a civilian or just someone who is extremely balanced.

im a red hood needs more fucking normalcy in his life TRUTHER.

relationship starts off slow, romantic and platonic, you need to be patient with him long enough for him to get over his mental dilemmas to feel ANY-TYPE of way towards you.

more then like 6 months lets be real yall

his way of bonding is quality time. ill die on this hill, especially at the start of the relationship. Nothing huge maybe just spending a couple extra minutes around you before leaving.

next is probably gift giving, esp with early relations, probably just gonna order you food or put fifty bucks on your countertop. you dont even notice until you realize you find a fifty around the last place he was standing. expect deliveries from R.H whenever he feels bad for something.

doesn't like being around for too long, feels like he's messing up something. ruining your day by keeping you up late (he was there for fifteen minutes), ruining your mood, (there was an awkward silence for like 30 seconds.)

not a overly conscious thought process though, he feels physically he isn’t supposed to be there. for whatever subconscious thing he picked up on, a awkward silence, or hes been there 15 minutes too long or something

well sometimes he'll mentally beat himself up.

he spirals a lot, needs someone to pull him out of that.

i think when he needs to be grounded, its not just comfort its making him feel alive in the present moment. he's never gonna truly forget about his traumas but maybe for just an hour or two; running around an arcade, walking around the city. just making him feel normal, yeah you BAGGED his ass quick.

he needs someone patient, really patient, someone whos very attentive and empathetic. (but not a complete push- over def needs someone to set him in line still)

i think if you move to quickly, he'll get super snappy and ghosting you,, ong put ur hands on him too early and he's left hooking you.

yeah you're waking up and the first thing your hearing is "Its been 12 years..."

second thing you hear is "you've been in a coma for.. 12 years."

third thing you're hearing is, " we think a bus hit you...”

obviously not touchy, even when he is settling down. hes just not sure how to .. or where to .. or why he wants too.

please his mental gymnastics get so crazy, just sit down with him and put on some silly ass movie so he stops

when he’s settled he cant pry himself off you though.

a lot of his expressions can definitely be told by his body language, naturally hes tense but theres certain habits he has when he's maybe thinking too much, or fustrated/irritated.

but he does all of the same for you, comfort, love, as much as he can he tries

Very attentive, has a mental list of 'shit you do when somethings wrong' or 'shit you like.'

doesn't consciously make any of these mental list, he just knows.

"didnt they say they liked this?" He pauses "shit ill just leave it at their window."

so he's like canonically smart as shit.

you have too much work from your boss or professor? hand it over its done in less then two hours.

literally buys you groceries and pays your bills (fucking lover boy.)

arkham knight finally figuring out how to ask for a hug (hes been dead silent for 5 minutes) (link) <— insta reel

HES A CHEM/HISTORY NERD FOR SURE

NSFW !! <3

probably- A FUCKING VIRGIN !! HES A NERD !! GETS AWKARD AS SHIT. WITH RAGING COMMITMENT AND TRUST ISSUES !! (will still die4you tho)

AGAIN, not in a "my soft squishe potato always been scared of sex" way but in a ‘oh my god hes so unsocialized’ way.

yall ever see a big ass dog just..standing.. literally him (hes dissociating)

genuinely dont believe that when he was arkham/training to be, he was sexually or romantically involved with anyone. the last thing that was on his mind was actually pursuing a sexual or romantic relationship.

along with his trauma, he just wasn’t comfortable with any of that.

ghosted so many people..

couldn’t flirt for more then five minutes, just stopped feeling it or got uncomfortable .

I AM ANTI ARKHAM KNIGHT BEING A SEX GOD

not that he’s horribly awkward, but he’s noticeably a bit more quiet for first times.

ofc this man has watched porn n’ shit but hes smart enough to know thats not what its really like.

he’ll still figure it, what makes you tic, what you love, what makes you most comfortable.

kinda shitty at dirty talk, just makes him buffer.

he gets better at it tho, too damn good

gets so snarky and confident about it too uuhgrr

late relationships hes smirking and chatting your ears off cause you know hes gettin you turnt.

he has a love-hate relationship with his scars. 95% they remind him of his past, but 5% hes alright with them because they’ve shown what hes been through.

deep, deep, deep, deep, deep down, he knows hes fine as fuck. TRUST YALL.

again, super observant and attentive. really pays attention to what you enjoy.

I genuinely don’t believe hes into super hardcore/painful kinks or anything.

Sex for him is definitely a way of showing his trust and intimacy with someone!! Let him show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you feel good! Do the same to him !!

mmm tell him how good hes doing and hes a absolute mess!!

praise him! PRAISE HIM *im yelling from the hospital bed im strapped down on*

wouldn’t let you ride for awhile, but once he’s comfortable with it ,, he’s actually obsessed.

cant see him bottoming , just wouldn’t be comfortable with it

my brain is getting messy so im stopping here! feedback and comments would be cool if you wanna drop some!

#jason todd #jason peter todd #jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight #arkham knight smut #jason todd smut #jason todd headcanon #arkham knight headcanon #jason todd hc #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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braimrotting · 11 months

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i absolutely adore the little habits and actions the eggs have which are so individual to themselves. ill just name a few that i know of but im sure theres so many more.

everytime ramon wakes up, he does a lil hide and seek with fit and its the cutest. he will like shoot his canon and wait for fit to find him. (+ fits nicknames for ramon make me melt, "baby boy", "my boy made in heaven my god himself", "little man", "kid" - theyre so tough-guy-gets-a-child-he-adores-in-an-apocalyptic-scenario coded)

chayanne (light of my life) has his sir yes sir military morning greeting which is so silly and makes me laugh everytime. also his actions for when hes bored being the potato crate check pattern in the ground or the pocket kitchen getting pulled out.

talullah has her maracas that she shakes to get ppl to read her signs. unfortunately only phil has noticed that 😭😭 bad mightve im not sure.

theres so much but these are the first ones that come to mind. it makes it so obvious when a different admin is playing an egg but whatever! we love all the qsmp admins! 02 plays chay so well because they spend like 80% of their time together lmao. i kinda forgot what my initial point was i just love the eggs + fit and ramons interactions are so underrated

#qsmp #qsmp tallulah #qsmp chayanne #qsmp fitmc #qsmp ramon

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eliashirsch · 17 days

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God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (3/3)

Part three of my fanfic recommendation! This one's for the best fics!

Winner Categories:

1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)

2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)

3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)

REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!!

Best of the Best Fics

Fics that shine bright as the stars. Make sure to check the author’s other works too!

ICEMAV

Kings of the Air by FabulaRasa @fabula-unica

Fighting and fucking: two things he did extraordinarily well. How could he have known what the effect would be when you combined the two?

This and COMPACFLT’s work directly inspired one of my works:) The writing quality is absolutely amazing. My favorite fics are those that have Ice returning to Top Gun and joining Mav as an instructor and this one just takes the whole motherfucking crown.

Indian Ocean. Present Day. by Jay Tryfanstone (tryfanstone)

Isolated on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Indian Ocean, cut off from any source of information about the global political and environmental disaster which has engulfed the planet, Maverick and Goose struggle to make sense of an increasingly claustrophobic command structure and failing resources on board. When a refugee helicopter is spotted approaching the carrier, its pilot could be the catalyst for an explosive re-evaluation....

This fic man. This fic. It made me fall in love with post-apocalyptic fics. The writing style, the plot, Ice and Mav and Goose. Goose, man… Oh my god. If you read this fic you know why I’m still thinking about these boys’ fates.

Rhinestone Cowboy by omnidirectional

That’s Doctor Iceman to you! Maverick bangs himself up and gets rescued by someone he didn’t expect. A Missing Scene featuring contrived situations, questionable life choices, gratuitous product placement, and shirtlessness. You know, everything you love about canon.

And it is absolutely everything I love about canon! I always love missing scenes or canon divergent. Not to say that I don’t enjoy AUs, but I love vibes like this the most where the story works alongside canon and elevates it to a whole other level. Mav and Ice and Slider feels correct.

Sleepless Nights by demiclar @demiclar / @slidersimp

Five times Maverick wakes himself up with nightmares and one time he's woken by someone else.

Fics about Mav’s grief over Goose’s death will always wreck me. This one in particular shows itself as a physical manifestation. I love love love all the guys stepping up and taking care of Mav, never once judging his pain. I’m a sucker for portrayals of the ugly side of grief.

Mal de Mer by saurora_borealis

"I thought you said you didn't get seasick, you little liar," Slider snaps. Maverick doesn't answer, head bowed, but Ice can see him shaking from here. Of all the times for Maverick to be sick, did it have to be on a night that Ice is ill too? Or: the carrier experiences some ocean turbulence. Even the most seasoned aviators fall prey to it.

This one has sort of the same vibe as the fic above. I never get tired of seeing the flyboys take care of each other<3

be my soulmate (and i'll be yours) by ChexMix

Of course Maverick dreams about finding his soulmate. Who doesn't? But he'd never imagined the possibility that it could be the Iceman. So when he catches sight of Ice's soulmark, it suddenly becomes all he can think about.

Classic Icemav soulmate AU. This is like exactly my type of angst and happy ending. Sometimes the things you’re familiar with are still the best:)

To Build a Home by LadyLanera @k9effect

Eighteen years before Top Gun Maverick, there was a home being built from ashes and ruin. When the dust finally settled and dusk fell, the house of cards collapsed, shattering three lives forever. Is it possible to rebuild, reclaiming the past in the future...when they're all hurtling towards their worst nightmare?

Goddddd. I love Mav’s character flaw in this. I love Ice’s maturity born from grief and sickness. I love Bradley’s anger and abandonment issues. I love that these three have hurt each other more than anyone ever could, but their love is still starkly present. My thoughts when I was reading this was that LadyLanera wrote their flaws so beautifully, making them human, and by doing so I understood their motivations and their actions. Amazing characterization.

all is fair (in love and war) by dulcetines (evecstasy)

oh, ice, maverick bisa merasakan hati kecilnya meringis, ice, sori banget— hollywood menyelak lagi, kali ini dengan suara impersonasi terbaiknya: “teruntuk kuncen TOPGUN, yang mana di sana kuyakin matahari belum juga terbit sebersamaan dengan ditulisnya surat ini. aku ingin saat ini juga kau bersyukur tidak mesti mendengarkan slider ngorok di sampingmu. tuhan jesus. pria ini sudah kuanggap saudara sendiri, tapi terkadang ada saja hal-hal yang dilakukannya yang membuatku ingin menggulingkannya ke laut. kau apa kabar di sana? sudah berapa pilot yang kauhabisi egonya? apapun itu. jangan mati kebosanan dulu. aku bisa bilang begini karena surat-suratmu selalu mengancam demikian. ingat kau masih hutang makan malam denganku. dan sepuluh dolar. sampaikan salamku ke bayi itik. bilang aku kangen padanya. dan,” hollywood memalsukan dehem, sambil ia melanjutkan, “padamu juga. setiap detikku. ice.” begitulah.

Hehehehehe. Now this is more for me LMAO because as you can see, it’s written in Indonesian. Finding this fic in my mother language is like finding GOLD. Again, I love love love Icemav in their Top Gun era. This is for all of you Indonesian Top Gun enthusiast *blows a kiss*

a higher fidelity by basedchamp

“C’mon.” Tori nudges him with an elbow. “C’mon. He’s cute. You can admit that one thing but you can’t admit this?” Gritting his teeth, Ice thinks very carefully about his next words. “He’s…” he trails off. “Some would say that…Mitchell is not. Unpleasant. To look at.” (Alternatively: the one where Ice and Mav learn to park bad, eat good, and love even better.)

Ice’s family, man… It’s refreshing to see them so supportive and loving. I’m guilty of making Ice’s backstory so tragic>:) But this one is heartwarming! I love the style and flow of the writing. It’s something that I want to achieve in my own writing as well, so kudos to basedchamp!

Tunnel Vision by brainjuicey (anzietyfreak) @brainjuicey

Instead of Ice biting the air in the locker room, he antagonises Mav by biting his neck, unknowingly setting off dormant Omega genes and sending him into heat. Everyone involved is forced to remain secure on base until they’ve investigated. AKA. Five Alphas, a Beta, and an Omega in heat, walk into an Air Base prison. Ramifications ensue. Alternative title, "Locked in Sex Jail With The Boys"

This scratched that specific part in my brain, man. ABO with the original cast of Top Gun? Sign me up, baby. Steamy and perfect.

The Five People You Can't Escape in Heaven by V_Evergreen

Maverick dies, but it doesn't end there. Alternately: [“Hey, kiddo, are you with me?” Maverick opened his eyes and found that he could see. He blinked in the sudden light as his surroundings came into focus. Quite literally came into focus, as though everything around him was resolving into itself as he looked, deciding to form a lawn, flowerbeds, the tree trunk that he had been leant against. The sun was blinding overhead, high noon. In the distance, hazy and indistinct, he could make out a house. It looked vague, like a half formed memory but it was familiar. Just like the man crouched in front of him. “Dad?” He croaked.]

I was reading the original book (The Five People You Meet in Heaven) and came across this fic. Which in turn made me want to write my own rendition from the same idea. That last chapter, man. It’s unreal how creative it is. A punch to the gut for sure.

(Here’s my fic if you want to read about it :) >> Estrellita)

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother by V_Evergreen

Five meetings between Thomas Kazansky and Ethan Hunt. Alternately: [Ethan heard the door click shut behind him and turned to ask after the papers when he was abruptly spun by a hand on his shoulder and pushed against the door. His first and immediate thought was that he was certainly being attacked. Kazansky had him pressed against the door, chest to chest, a hand around his wrist and then- oh. Oh no. He wasn’t being attacked at all, it was infinitely worse. He was being very thoroughly kissed. He pushed back against Kazansky’s chest and tried to think of something eloquent to say. “Um?”]

Another banger by V_Evergreen. Ice not knowing Mav has a twin and mistakenly kissing him is so funny. And the end is heartwarming as well. Love love love it.

Allies by Shearmouth

After getting shot down over a war-torn Iraq, Maverick makes some unlikely friends. They have something– a big something– in common. But all Mav really wants is Ice. Too bad he's half a world away, and even Mav can't run that on a shattered leg. Not with the infected chest wounds thrown in, at least.

Oh my goddddd. I keep being at a loss for words when describing these fics. It won’t do anyone good if all I wrote was goddd, oh mannn, it’s so goodddd. But it’s the truth. This one hits home so much. The risk and homophobia present when you’re in a place that punishes queer people for existing and being in love, how a single mistake will cost you your future. And it’s so heartwarming to see that even then, you’re not alone. Mav being helped to reunite with Ice and breaking down that since their relationship was private, Ice had to grief Mav alone. Man, oh man.

There is a pain—so utter by CurSirrr

Pete Mitchell was fine. Completely fine. He didn’t feel dizzy with denial, or an utter trainwreck of hopelessness. He hadn’t shed a single tear or cried himself to sleep for the past week. His guts were twisting and turning, squeezing and cramping. His eyes were swollen and red, and his scalp hurt from his vicious hair tugs as he tried to understand the past week. OR Three times Bradley misses the chance to say goodbye before it is too late.

Just read the summary and prepare for a world of pain:) Ice’s canon death still haunts me. Good thing he’s sleeping away in his big house that he co-owns with Mav, regularly saves his husband’s ass, have barbeque Sunday with Bradley and Jake and the dagger squad, happy and healthy:))

keeping his cards close to his chest by Serie11 @oathkeeperoxas

It's not that Lucy wishes that her boss would be more open with her. It's that she quite literally knows nothing about the man, despite Admiral Kazansky being her CO for half a decade. Or: 5 times Ice successfully hid something from his staff, and 1 time Ice revealed his biggest secret

Love seeing Icemav seen through other people’s perspective. It adds so much to the universe. Ice and Mav being their usual old married couple while everyone around them suffers. Excellent.

'til I meet you there by adiduck (book_people) @adiduck

Maverick wakes up in the snow, helmet on, entire body aching intensely and parachute still attached. It takes him about half an hour of trekking through the snow to notice that there’s anything amiss. (Or: Maverick Mitchell is in the habit of talking to his ghosts. Usually, they don’t talk back.)

Mav’s journey through the underworld. This fic is just too creative😭Always a delight to see how loved Mav is. It’s so whimsical and confusing and so great.

the ships have come to carry you home by indigofudge

“Here it is,” Carole says, bringing Mav’s wheelchair to a stop. Mav’s mouth is dry. He aches for another cup of water. “Carole, tell me something, and don’t lie to me.” “Anything, Maverick.” “How bad does he look?” Carole is quiet for a while. Then she comes around and kneels in front of Mav, taking both of his hands in her own. Her eyes swim with tears. “If I didn’t know any better,” she says, voice breaking, “I’d think he was dead.” • Or, Goose is alive when they hit the water. That's enough.

Goose survives AU!!!! Huh? This isn’t canon? What are you talking about? Of course, Goose survives and the Bradshaw family is still whole and Mav still has his family and gets to have Ice too. What are you talking about??

Swallow by wildglitterwolf

Ice is getting tired of Maverick's inability to be a team player. Maverick is annoyed by Ice's gum chewing. Ice is more than happy to get rid of it, he just needs a place to put it...

TT.TT Just… I didn’t know I like this dynamic so much…

HANGSTER

cruise control by res_judicata

Rooster’s plane goes down on a Tuesday. Jake remembers that it’s a Tuesday because he had been out grabbing a quick bite for lunch with Javy and the little chalkboard on the wall of the cafe had proclaimed that Tuesday’s special was linguine in white wine with fresh mussels. (Jake deals with grief and love)

Made me cry a goddamn river. I’ve said this before, but Hangster is one of those ships that I had trouble getting into. When I first got into the fandom back in June 2022, I strictly read Icemav, never dipping my toes into Hangster’s relationship because I never felt the spark. But as time goes by I’m starting to warm up and have read more and more. This fic is one of those where it captured my attention instantly. I knew it was going to be angsty, but still holding out hope for a happy ending (just like Jake in this story). The grief that blanketed the whole writing only made the resolution more beautiful.

WHORES IN MY BED. by pornogirl

“Jake-” Bradley’s eyes have a wet glimmer to them, the kind of wet that looks like the beginnings of tears and Jake wants to kiss him so badly. “Jake, is it loaded?” Jake rolls his eyes at the question. “Open your fucking mouth.” (Author’s notes: it's really not as bad as the tags may suggest but like. read the fucking tags!)

I’m a freak and I’m not ashamed of it:) Basically, Jake's going on about how pretty Bradley is crying and scared. If this is your kink, definitely worth the read. I don’t know if it’s because I find it hot, but I don’t get the unsafe feeling as opposed to reading other works that have noncon elements. I don’t know it feels more like it’s both of their kinks or like something they’ve discussed before but Jake didn’t warn Bradley prior. Like CNC, I guess? Anyway it’s really hot and I have not looked at my retainers the same way;)

we're fools to make war by whimsicule @baroness-elsa

In a Walmart at three am, between beef jerky and tortilla chips, with the lights flickering above them like it’s the fucking twilight zone, Bradley wants him more than he’s ever wanted anyone. or: it's a hundred degrees in texas.

This is so Jake and Bradley I’m blown away by how right they feel. Seriously. I didn’t even notice this was 66k words. The vibes, the writing, Jake’s family. Oh hell. Definitely check out the author’s other works too! They’ve got a lot of other Hangster long fics:)

cinnamon and sugar by bottledyarn

Jake was slumped in the doorway, propped up against the wall beside the door. He was a strange, pale, near-gray against the dark backdrop of his apartment, and he looked—well… “You look like shit," Bradley said. – Bradley draws the short straw and has to take care of Jake when he's sick with a stomach flu. Jake doesn't want to be taken care of.

Sigh. Jake and Bradley, man. They’re the ship that you can shove as much angst as you want and it’ll fit right in with their dynamic. They’re just so stubborn!!!! The push and pull between them is magnetic, man. I think I get why people love them.

habits by rararatatouille

Jake and Bradley come together in a series of jagged stops and starts. They fall apart in the exact same way. In which habits are hard to break, even for the people we love most.

Mannnnn. Goddamnit. I think this fic converted me to like Hangster. I think this has become canon in my brain too. I can’t even. Just read it. Words aren’t enough to describe this fic.

Days Like This by chase_acow @cowsalot

Jake's in Hawaii to lose himself after getting the Navy's first air-to-air kill in decades. Instead he finds a ramshackle diner, a cast of odd characters, and possibly the love of his life. Bradley goes to the Hard Deck to order waffles. He orders waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck to get some waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck, and who is this hot asshole acting like they know each other?

So good. A 50 First Dates AU. Jake just loves Bradley so much, man. And Bradley finally showing up in the end. Love really will make you walk miles across Earth for your special person<3

OTHERS

Other pairings, romantic and not.

Mr. Blue Sky by omnidirectional

Tragedy first brings Iceman into Bradley’s life, but he quickly becomes the steadiest presence of the boy’s childhood… until a betrayal tears their small family apart. After years of silence, can Bradley find the words to make up for lost time? Five times Ice sings to Bradley, and the one time Bradley sings to Ice.

Another one from omnidirectional. Ice and Bradley’s father and son relationship… Here’s one of the tags: Who Wants To Cry Today? If you’re up for emotional damage, click the link🫵

On Mighty Wings by PurpleArrowzandLeather @purplearrowzandleather-blog

Maverick raised geese over the years while Bradley was gone. Bradley does not know this until the flock comes home for the summer.

Short and sweet. Legend author as well. Love the geese preening Mav and Bradley sobbing while surrounded by honks. This is just too damn cute!!

Neglected by proprioception @mnstrfkr

"Do I look God-fearing to you, ma'am?" Maverick asked with a grin. "You most certainly do not," Carole said. "That's why I didn't marry you." "That and the mustache," Goose added.

Can’t forget about this GooseMavCarole fic of course! Hot and heartwarming. Absolutely amazing smut. This one sparked my brain to make a fanart of my favorite polycule. Their dynamic is just so fun!

Yearling by Fopperies , pohjanneito @pilvimarja

Alone in a cabin in the snowy mountains, Maverick is supposed to help Bradley on the path to presenting as an alpha soon. Bradley's body has other ideas.

Just gonna put this here… A different take on ABO’s biology, which I absolutely love. It’s so hot… Bradley, I feel you, honey…

Seeing a Trailer by daenabenjen42

In the aftermath of the Layton rescue, Merlin has questions.

Sighs for the millionth time. It’s so good. Again, I love the portrayal of Mav’s PTSD and grief here. And it’s not just him, but daenabenjen42 wrote about the other boys’ trauma too. I love it so much I must’ve reread this one about fifty million times.

in between what's already done by crawsley

“We aren’t doing this,” Maverick says, firmly, and he’s tensing like he’s about to move, about to shove Rooster off of him, push him away like he pushed him away before, when all Rooster had wanted was some guidance, some help, some love and kindness and— Rooster bears him to the ground, right there on the rug in the entryway.

This is legitimately one of the first, if not the first fic I’ve read from RoosMav. I still remember clearly going home from watching TG:M in the cinema and KNOWING that there were definitely going to be people who ship Mav and Roo. I rushed to AO3 straight away:D Imagine my delight when finding this one!

shake my nerves and rattle my brain by BogBeast

This wasn’t supposed to be intimate. This was about punishment, humiliation, stubbornness and spite. Not this gentle crap that made him sigh, the hand in his hair making his stomach swoop with every tug, the heavy scent making his head feel foggy, the praises making his heart skip a beat. That shit is just weird. The horrifying realization that he’s hard in his flight suit has nothing to do with it. - Mav's gotten them into a lot of weird situations, but giving blowjobs to their rivals because of a stupid bet has to be the weirdest one.

Icemav AND Sloose? SIGN ME UP, BABY!

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That’s all of it! This is my list for now. Thank you all for reading through to the end! Let me know if you enjoyed any of these fics so we can gush about them together:) I hope you enjoyed my yapping:}

My works have always and will continue to take inspiration from others. So thank you for creating stories as beautiful and profound as these, dear beloved authors<3

If you want to see my bookmark collection of all of these fics, click here >> TOPGUN (Best of the Best) While you’re there, how about you read some of my fics too?>:) EliasHirsch

(PS!!! There will be a 4th part because there are definitely more good fics that people need to know about:))

#tag the authors if you know their tumblr!#and tell me if i wrongly tagged the wrong person or input the wrong link:')#icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x maverick #top gun #top gun maverick #hangster #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fic recs #fanfic rec #fanfiction rec list #fanfiction recommendation

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luvrsbian · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄

A/N: she's finally here!!! this was initially supposed to be a one shot but has kinda turned into a draft up of a pretty plotless, sweet, fluffy mini series. it follows canon for the most part minus eddies death ofc but because im bad with canon lore and science shit, its not heavily mentioned (some minor canon lore was changed but it's not super important.) this is a fem!reader, no use of y/n, set in 1992, 4k words, and i've kept reader pretty vague for inclusivity minus some background lore. this series is not 18+ (yet) but my page is, so please do not follow if you are a minor. thank you sweet baby mona @enam3l for beta-reading for me (ily)

MASTERLIST ✿ PART TWO

Eddie Munson liked his life. He liked his friends, even if a lot of them have now dispersed across the continental United States for school, jobs, general life (minus Robin who has somehow managed to make her way to Australia doing God knows what.) He liked his home, a house on the edge of town – slightly bigger than the old trailer – which he still shared with his uncle. He liked his style and hobbies and taste in music and movies that haven’t really changed much in the last 5 years since his final senior year.

He really liked his job.

Which felt odd for him to admit to himself.  It wasn’t anything like what he thought he would be doing. A younger Eddie Munson would imagine himself traveling city to city, adored by fans, living creatively and free spirited. 

But a middle school janitorial gig kept him young. One could argue 26 wasn't even that old, however, compared to his friends (who he'd already been older than) with their careers, relationships and growing families, he felt like a lonely old man. So, yeah, the awkward, funny, and extremely honest pre-teens made him feel young. 

Initially he thought the job would be lonely. It’s a small town with even smaller schools. Besides him, there was only one other night janitor that he alternated weekend cleans with and only really ran into during day-to-night shift changes. Ron was nice enough, older than Wayne, with a far higher patience for children. Unsurprisingly, behaviours from high school died hard and the teachers and administrative staff all kept to their own little cliques. Resulting in Eddie keeping to himself, rarely speaking outside of his custodian duties or the occasional faculty meeting.

He didn’t even think he’d interact with the students aside from cleaning the odd vomit or getting stuck balls out of the gymnasium rafters. He unintentionally found himself yet again the outcasted mother goose to a small hoard of pre-teen metal heads when their unofficial leader, Matty Sherman, caught site of the various posters Ed keeps hung up on his office (custodial closet) door. The seventh grader quickly forcing himself under Eddies wings and refusing to budge. Matty was a good kid. Reminded Eddie a lot of himself at that age. He was loud, abrasive, and way too confident for such a gangly frame in ill-fitting clothes. Matty had hair though which 13-year-old Eddie couldn’t relate to.

There was also Ms. Virginia Wagner. The eccentric, nurse who has been working at Hawkins Middle since Eddie was attending. Maybe even before that, he wasn’t quite sure and whenever he asked anything close to finding out her age, she quickly shut him down. She was sweet. She was funny. She was also a mean old hag sometimes, but God did Eddie love that about her. If he was just 20 - or more realistically 40 - years older and wasn’t almost certain she swings the other way, he’d shoot his shot. 

The Summer season was extremely uneventful for Eddie. Due to the kids being out of school, his hours were cut in more than half with only the yearly repairs and deep cleaning needing to be done. He went into work about 3 days a week, spending the extra free time to do some manual labour gigs here and there around town. When he wasn’t working, he was hidden away at home watching movies, listening to music, trying to plan out ongoing and future campaigns for Hellfire meetings that have begun to be fewer and far between now that everyone has dispersed. On some rare occasions when he didn’t feel like a complete shell of a person and was able to leave the house to socialize outside of life obligations, he met up with the few friends that remained in the Hawkins area (which at this point in time was really only Steve Harrington and Gareth Emerson.)

It was now the Monday of the week before students would return back to these fluorescent lit halls. That meant all other faculty were now gracing the school to prepare for the year ahead. Organizing and prepping and finalizing lesson plans and class rosters. 

Eddie had a slight pep in his step as he walked through the halls, scuffed up sneakers squeaking on the shiny, extra polished tiles. He whistled a silent tune that clashed with the jingles of his keys that he swung around his middle finger. Getting to the janitors closet to put on his navy coverall and put his hair into a low bun. He zips up the stiff material, covering the self-altered muscle tank top that had the logo for some local band down in Indianapolis he saw a few years back before things went to shit. A cracked and stained mirror hanging up over his work sink being used to make sure his hair looked casually messy in the bun. With a final once over, he hooks his keys to the belt loop of his coveralls and preps for the day's work. A glance at his wristwatch, the one that has somehow survived hell and back just like him, reads 7:58. Just 4 hours and 2 minutes until lunch. 

He couldn’t wait.

Eddie used those 4 hours and 2 minutes to check each stall in all bathrooms were fully stocked with toilet paper and the likes, clean the actual toilets themselves, and make sure the water was running properly in every sink. Once that was taken care of, he began on his biggest task of the week of dragging desks and chairs out of the back storage building to be put into classrooms. Sheryl from the administrative team having left the small packet of papers indicating how many seats each room would need for the coming year. 

He could move the chairs in stacks at a time but could only really stack two - maybe three if he was careful - desks on his hand truck before it became a safety problem. Once moved into the main building, he had to wipe them down, tighten any loose screws that could make them wobble, and make sure they were still in usable condition. Eddie had completed almost 3 of the 32 classrooms before lunch finally rolled around. 

He grabbed his lunch sack from the custodial closet and whistled on his merry way to the nurse's office. He’s been eating lunch with Virginia for as long as he can remember. Of course, there was those 5 years of High School and then the year of recovery following the events of his second senior year, and the summer breaks of course, but besides all those he’s been eating with her for a good 7 years. 

This ritual beginning in his 6th grade, the first year he moved in with Wayne, all sad eyed and past aside due to events outside of his control. Kids he had grown up with suddenly not wanting anything to do with him. He wouldn’t really make any friends again until 7th grade, and his first band of misfits was created, Corroded Coffin. 6th Grade was the worst year of his life until 1986 and now it’s about tied. 

Sadly, in middle school who you ate a meal with or gave the time of day too was so integral into maintaining the hierarchal balance of the ecosystem. It was bullshit. With everything that happened that lead to his father going to jail and him burdening his uncle, the kids of Hawkins middle school decided Eddie wasn’t worth risking their own reputations. He doesn’t remember exactly how it happened, his brain kicking the memory out at some point to make room for more important stuff like D&D lore. But he does remember he went from eating lunch in the bathroom to eating it in Nurse Wagner’s office. 

Even after being integrated back into the Middle school social circle, he couldn’t just leave her to eat lunch by herself. She needed him with his alternative music education and retelling of the fantasy books he’d been reading lately and his strong headedness that could keep up with her dry and sarcastic quips many interpreted as rudeness. Although Eddie would still refuse to admit it, in actuality he probably needed her more than she needed him.

He doesn’t knock, just moseys his tall frame into the nurse's office, wide dimpled smile on his lips as he hears rummaging coming from the actual office area that was blocked off by a wall. He looks at the two plastic-y beds covered in paper sheets, inhaling that antiseptic smell that can only seem to be found in medical settings. No fluorescent lights were on, only natural light being let it from the two big windows. 

There are curtains on them now which surprises him. Floral pinks and yellows with lace on the edge that really fit the grandma vibes Virginia has but refused to acknowledge. The windows all have blinds, but curtains were deemed a non-necessary commodity by the school board budgeting team, meaning if you wanted curtains, you’re gonna have to fork money out of pocket for them. Eddie had asked Virginia about it once, commenting about how it would help spruce up the place. Make it look a little less sterile. She told him to go to hell, that she’s a nurse not rich. Any out-of-pocket money she spent on work only going towards things that actually matter, like the allergen friendly laundry detergent and the nicer, name brand candy for the candy bowl.

Putting his lunch on the side table of the first bed, he lays down in a relaxed position. Hands behind his head, legs crossed, eyes closed, he lets out a relaxed sigh.

“Virginia, dear, I really love what you’ve done with the place,” he calls out to her, hearing the close of the filing cabinet and footsteps soon following, “feels all homey now, dontcha think.”

The footsteps stop.

“I'm glad you like them. You feelin’ comfy there?”

That was most definitely not Virginia Wagners voice.

Eddie jolts up, eyes wide and cheeks red. He’s not one to get embarrassed easily but since recent events he’s been a bit more reserved in how comfortable he gets around strangers. And you were most definitely a stranger. A pretty stranger. A very pretty stranger in a teddy bear patterned scrub top and an oversized cardigan with embroidered sunflowers. You’re a disorienting mess of patterns and colors but you’re also, like, really pretty and Eddie isn’t sure how to go about this.

“You’re not Virginia,” is all he can get his voice to come out with.

“I’m not Virginia.” You give a chuckle. A positive response, Eddie thinks.

“Where’s Virginia?”

Eddie is now standing away from the bed and closer to the door, ready to run from the situation if needed (something he’s learned to embrace in the last few years.) You give him a friendly smile, hands in your cardigan pockets, the sleeves bunched up. You look cozy. 

“Florida. She’ll be in the Caribbean by the end of the month,” you supply. He can tell your fingers are fidgeting in your pockets. His hands are fidgeting at his waist, pinching at the material of his coveralls. 

“Why?”

You shrug your shoulders, “Retirement.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighs, eyes breaking contact with yours for the first time since standing, shifting to look at your white - almost pristine - sneakers on the tile floor her spent all summer mopping and waxing and removing scuff marks from. “That sucks.”

You snort. Teeth biting your bottom lip to stop from laughing at him further during this awkwardly endearing meeting. Your own eyes looking him over now that he isn’t completely focused on you. He’s cute. His cheeks stained your favourite shade of pink once he realized you weren’t the now retired nurse he had been so fond of. Hands covered in jewlery. His inability to stay still so natural it makes you think he doesn’t even realize he’s been shifting his body weight back and forth from his toes to his heels this whole time. Tall, lean, maybe with some extra fluff hidden under the baggy attire. He’s got some shadow of hair on his cheeks. And if you weren’t a civil person and he wasn’t a stranger, you’d be begging to kiss at the column of his throat.

Your gaze moves to look around the waiting part of the office to avoid thinking even more things about this guy. A brown paper bag chicken scratched with the words ‘ED LUNCH’ catches your eye. Before you have a chance to speak yourself, he starts his interrogation again.

“Who are you?”

Your attention cuts back to him quickly. With a smile that shows all your teeth and a hand leaving your pocket, held out for him to shake, you give your full name.

He takes it with his own reserved smile. His hands and rings are warm, but they still tingle your skin from the unfamiliarity of the metal. You enjoy it you think. Before he can introduce himself, you beat him to the punch.

“You must be Edward, right?”

He grimaces, “Just Eddie,” your handshake falls. His hand back to his hip and your hand back into your pocket, “Just Eddie is fine. More than fine, actually. Preferred, really.”

Another chuckle from you. Eddie knows he’s funny when he wants to be but if it’s this easy to make you laugh, he doesn’t ever want to stop.

“Well, just Eddie,” you smirk at his eye roll, “you can join me for lunch if you’d like. I feel like my presence may have ruined your initial plans,” you let out a huff of a laugh and gesture to the lunch sack by the window. He grimaces again at your wording and shakes his head.

“It didn’t ruin any plans just was shocking ‘sall,” his hand moves from his hip to rub at his slightly scruffy chin, pretty brown eyes back on yours, “but um, yeah. Yes, I’d love- like to join you for lunch.”

You smile. He smiles back.

Eddie has sat in this chair, in this office, and eaten his lunch for years. Today it feels awkward and unfamiliar. 

It might have something to do with you sitting where Virginia used to sit. Same chair, same desk, same office, but completely different. Virginia didn’t decorate her space, leaving it functional and impersonal, if people wanted to know about her life they could ask her. She wasn’t going to flaunt it. 

You were very different. An orange, gaudy looking vase filled with fake flowers. A matching candy bowl with various sugary, little treats. A picture frame of you and what he could only assume was your family based on the similar features shared between each person. A decorated Coke can with the top cut off and trimmed with glued on lace and covered in holographic stickers of vibrant cartoon animals, sparse enough to still see the iconic red drink logo, was now holding an assortment of colorful gel pens. 

Even the chair wasn’t safe from your interior decorating, a purple knitted blanket folded over the top of the rolling seat. The seat itself now adorning a red, white, and black cushion of an ugly faced bulldog with a spiked color and cap with the letter G, the words ‘GEORGIA BULLDOGS’ splayed above him. A sports team he assumed. 

The conversation hadn’t started back up since the introduction in the sick room. Both of you taking your respective seats in the office area, opening your lunch bags and digging in. 

Eddie being a creature of habit brought his usual bag of pretzels, a can of Pepsi, and a sandwich made of whatever he could find in the kitchen. Today it was two slices of whole wheat, mayo, lettuce, the last piece of deli ham, and shredded cheese. 

Your own lunch seemed much more put together. For starters, you had an actual lunchbox, a bulky and vibrant plastic thing with Snoopy sleeping on his dog house on the front. Inside, there was your own ziploc bag of green grapes, a can of Coke, and a sandwich cut into triangles. White bread, crunchy peanut butter, and grape jelly. A Little Debbies Swiss Rolls pack sitting on the corner of your desk for dessert.

He’s mid chew on the final bite of his sandwich, half his Pepsi left, his pretzels being the first thing devoured, when you speak up. Your own sandwich having on triangle section left, grapes gone, and Coke untouched.

“Have you always lived in Hawkins?”

You’re wiping your mouth with a folded paper towel, curious eyes focused on him. You’re very good at that, he’s realized. Eye contact. Focusing on your center of attention. Eddie has never been good at it, having to remind himself to look at the person talking to him. It’s polite, Wayne would say, shows people you’re listening and interested in what they have to say. Eddie gets so worked up in remembering to seem focused, he loses it and doesn’t hear what’s being said. He hasn’t had that problem with you so far. He thinks he could look at and listen to you all day if you let him.

“Born and bred,” he swallowed his bite and shrugs his shoulders, rubbing his hands together to get the crumbs off, “you’re not though, are you. Feel like I’d remember you,” he raises an eyebrow. Feeling a little more confident in himself, especially with the obvious signs of you not being a local, and gives a playful smirk.

“You got me,” you hold your hands up in mock surrender, moving your arms back to rest your elbows on the edge of the desk, “I’m from Georgia.”

Eddie nods, the seat cushion making sense now. It’s your home team for… sports. A sport. Probably football. Eddie mentally pats himself on the back for guessing it was a sports team. Good on him for knowing sports. (Eddie doesn’t know sports.)

“So,” Eddie lulls, small talk never being his forte. Much more interested in getting into the nitty gritty of conversation when interested in someone but he doesn’t know you yet. He needs to find something to relate with you on and he can’t do that with tidbits he may know from growing up in town like he could other people his age or older here. “You’re like a southern chick,” it was your turn to grimace. 

“You’re really bad at this,” you snort and shake your head, finishing up the last of your own sandwich. Tidying up your desk, throwing away the ziploc bag and sandwich wrapping and paper towels. Opening the coke can and moving the swiss rolls pack to in front of you, looking back to Eddie. With a tilt of your head and saccharine grin you ask, “Splitsies?”

He nods at the opportunity to get a sweet little treat before addressing your initial comment, “Small talk requires talking and I just don’t really do that anymore with people who don’t already know me or just have a preconceived idea of who I am,” he shrugs his shoulders again, voice softer, slight regret in being too real. Eyes watching your fingers open the package, folding another paper towel (which he has now realized are coming from a roll kept in the lowest drawer of your desk), and setting one of the processed roll cakes on the indented paper before placing it in front of Eddie’s seated and slouched body. “Thank you,” He looks back up to you and you’re already looking at him.

“Virginia told me a lot about you,” you smirk, lifting your own cake to take a bite. Your eyes not leaving his except for split a second to give an appreciative glance and hum to the cream filled ‘pastry.’

“We’ve been corresponding for months,” you snicker at your own use of the word, making you feel like some sort of 18th century countess or captain, rather than a young nurse taking over the position of an older nurse. 

He looks panicked at this reveal. Which is cute considering he had a bit of white cream on his upper lip. Although he looked so pretty when his brow furrowed, it was clear he was frightened so you were quick to reassure him.

“All good things, of course. I think she’s just worried about you. It’s cute, really, just really cute.” Another kind smile on your lips and your hand holding out the paper towel - his now eaten roll was sat on - as hint for him to clean his mouth off.

Eddie knew Virgina wasn’t one to gossip but the prospect of a rare new person in town he’s actually interested in, being privy to all his shit-uations without him telling them himself, scared him. But Virginia did love to meddle and that may be worse. She was a big supporter of Eddie needing friends his own age. 

Letting out a sigh of relief that his tragic history had yet to be exposed, Eddie returned your smile with his own half one. You reach into your desk again, pulling out a letter instead of paper towels this time. ‘Edward’ scrawled in a familiar, loopy handwriting with blue ink on the white envelope caught his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion and intrigue. 

You hold it out for him to take like it was something precious, “This is for you.” From Virginia, is unspoken but recognized between the both of you. Who else would it have been from. Eddie flushing as he realized, Virginia never told him about you. Virginia never even told Eddie she’d be leaving. They didn’t speak much, or really at all, during the summer unless they happened to run into each other outside of these brick walls. 

Callused finger pads grazed your palm when he took the letter from you, he kept his eyes focused on examining the letter. A sad smile on his lips appreciating the loops of the E and W and curves of the D’s. Realistically he knew Virginia probably wasn’t gonna be gone from Hawkins forever, she had roots here. A son. That’s son kid or maybe kids now, he wasn’t sure, hadn’t checked in on Rick since he got out of jail in ‘88. But it still hurt that she was gone, without a word, and was happy enough to talk to her replacement about him but not to him about her. You.

“I’m gonna read this later,” he mumbles and puts the offending but appreciated letter in his deep pocket. A quick glance at his watch read it’s been about an hour since making his way into the nurses office, lunch was over. He threw his trash out in the bin by your desk and gave you a friendly smile, standing from the seat in front of your desk.

“Maybe we could do this again sometime,” eyes shifting around the office again, not really taking things in, just needing to not get trapped back into your gaze. “Ya know, with my lunches free now and everything,” he humorlessly chuckles.

“Eddie,” you spoke softer than you had before, a more sympathetic smile on your lips, “I’d really like that.”

He looks at you now. You have really shiny eyes. What a weird observation, Eddie thinks, but it’s true. With a quick wave of his hand before retreating them back into his pocket, fingers playing with the paper edges of Virginias letter. He begins his trek out the door. 

“Hey, next time though,” he stumbles in a spin to walk backwards while speaking, “We’ll speak more about you than about me. Feel’s like you know too much about me,” he huffs with a smug smile before spinning back to look forward. “See ya, Peach.”

Your sweet laughter follows him out into the hall. You call out, “See ya, Eddie,” to his retreating back, watching the door long after he’s left. 

“Peach,” you snort and shake your head, teeth tugging on your bottom lip to stop from smiling too wide.

the clean up crew (taglist): @avobabe87 @bakugouswh0r3

comment or ask to be added to the clean up crew!

#ʚ by gwen ɞ #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #tcu #school janitor eddie x school nurse reader

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rise-my-angel · 1 year

Text

Perilous Companions

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 24.7k

Warnings: Depictions of violence, mention of suicide, non graphic torture, hostage situations, heavy angst, angst/hurt comfort, trama related flashbacks, smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, canon divergence

Notes: This ones a big boy with some big things happening. Not everything will make sense yet as its part of a bigger unfolding narrative, and certain moments are intentionally skipped over for the same reason. Knowledge of the 2nd game not needed as its not canon. A lot of nerves went into making and posting this one, so I hope it doesn't disappoint you. Sequel to Melancholy Interlude, part of the Confused Warmth series.

It was a cruel joke that you were this ill. If you had to trace it back, you think you may have been bitten by a mosquito at some point. Of all the things you could catch, you were falling apart from something as small as a bug bite. You were always scared of being bitten by any sort of insect as a kid after your neighbour had come home from school talking about how you could get sick and die from one bite.

Your only saving grace being that a cordyceps infection didn’t incubate for this long, and as far as you were aware, didn’t result in how bloodshot and feverish you were nor did it result in vomiting a liquid disgustingly close to black. You had guessed for a while that in the old world the man in front of you had either was a scientist or worked somewhere in that field.

Whatever research your current companion had done though clearly didn’t encompass all illnesses, but at least you finally were sick long enough he wasn’t constantly terrified you’d turn. Neither you or the rambling man pacing above you had any clue what to do about it, but he somehow seemed more worried then you. Looking at the map in his hands as he ran his mouth non stop.

You had insisted you were fine until about ten minutes ago when you felt dizzy and would have completely collapsed onto the ground if Seth wasn’t there to fail to catch you in time, at least before you hit your head. Travelling with someone wasn’t what you wanted, you had been alone for months but you felt awful when a bumbling, older, tearful man came across you asking for help getting to his wife near Salem. Only to have him confess when you got sick that he was just lonely and wanted company.

Now you were just too exhausted to get angry. Letting him travel with you as he desperately tried to make you like him despite your very purposeful choice to stay away from any people. Briefly you had wondered if he was a plant, tricking you to walk you into a trap right back to the place you were running from. Part of you still wondered that, but now you were too sick to do anything about it.

“We’d have to go to every clinic just to see whose there, but that’s way too big to check.” Seth’s messy hair was flopping around with every spin in place he did, the rhythmic movement distracting your already fuzzy brain. “You said no to everything else I suggested, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Your head smacking back against the tree you were currently sat up against shook your spinning vision even more. Squeezing your eyes shut you let out a shaky breathe that burned your esophagus as it flowed upwards. There was an extremely expired pack of gum a few kilometres back when you were sifting through an old abandoned store front. The bile still coating your mouth had you hating yourself for passing that up now.

“You sure we can’t go to Boston?” One eye blinked open, a kaleidoscope of orbs floating in your vision as Seth’s figure stood right in the suns path. He was standing with the map crinkling in his hold as he looked hopeful at you. “They have doctors, it’s an actual city they’ll have medicine won’t they? We can get you a bed and everything. We’re practically right there, you can see the walls from the top of one of those hills for god sakes.”

Your fingertips tapped against the grass beneath you as your jaw clenched. Forcing yourself up, the tree worked as a main support for your legs that trembled from the exertion. The man seemingly perked up at your slowly approaching self. He stared at you, your name coming out as a question when you got within a few feet. “Is that a-”

Jumping back, Seth gasped as you ripped the map out of his hands. Your face flat as your eyes shifted to the side to stop yourself from glaring. “A no...I’m guessing it’s still a no.”

Your legs wobbled as your vision spun trying to read it. Kneeling down you rested it over a bent knee as your finger followed a path you already were dabbling in planning out. “You ever been in a QZ before?”

Looking up at him, Seth had a shifting and sheepish face akin to something like guilt. “I spent some time in one for a while, a little bit in Boston.” Your heart skipped a beat, forcing your gaze down to the destination you had in mind willing away the swirling anxiety. “That’s why we need to go though. I have friends there, they can help you- wait where are you going?”

The beating of your heart pounded erratically. You wanted to be alone for this very reason, you had no idea what kind of friends were waiting for him, or you, in Boston of all places. There was no one you knew anywhere near such an area, so you walked away. In the opposite direction of his suggestion.

Seth called you again, “I thought you needed to rest.”

Pace picking up you pulled the other strap of your bag on both your shoulders properly. “I’m going west.” Pairing up with this man was foolish, heading in the complete opposite direction of where you were headed was even more foolish.

His voice was getting more and more grating. “We just came that way, didn’t we go to Massachusetts for a reason?”

Heading down a slight hill full of ragged dirt clumps and drop offs only bang around the blurring migraine in your head more. It wasn’t killing you yet, so you just didn’t bother stopping for it. “No, you wanted to go to Salem, I wanted to be alone.”

Sputtering, Seth wailed his arms as he slipped and tripped over his feet down the hill with a grace that only assured you that he’s likely spent his entire life in and out of some halfway sizable apartment Fedra probably threw his way. “I was just trying to help.”

Your mind was already made up. You’ve been trying to get out of this state for months and everything kept pulling you back in. But their unwillingness to let you go spoke a different story, the people you’ve encountered since that have tried to trick or lead back to that room you ran from.

Seth was saying something, but you tried to tune it out until he was too loud. The sun was setting in a gold that shined off of the decay around you. Travelling the outskirts was longer, a much longer path but if you were being honest with yourself? Just because you were more scared of what other people were capable of, doesn’t mean the shrieks didn’t haunt you every time they echoed through the emptiness.

It didn’t take long for Seth to overtake your strides. Longer legs and too much energy compared to your muscles begging to sit once more. You so desperately wanted to believe it wasn’t true, that maybe just once since that day you could meet one person who you didn’t have to leave your guard up for. But you couldn’t.

You were the only of your kind they ever seen, and it didn’t matter who told them what. He had his sights set on you and so did everyone else. Were they hoping to pull you back because they were too stubborn to give up? Or were they truly so delusional that they just didn’t care. The arguments you spied on seemed to tell you something divided them greatly but at this point you didn’t have anything to go off of.

You had enough scuffles with them to know they were willing to be violent to get you. You knew why they wanted you and it was a fate that terrified you. You saw the remnants of what they had before you, and now? It was a fate you knew would be worse. Their willingness to beat the air out of your lungs had you supposing that having you in one piece wasn’t required.

It was only months ago when a few men came across you as you realized that it wasn’t just a small group that were involved. Somewhere along the lines, three men in the fireflies approached you and when you refused to even hear them out? That’s when they left you with a fair few more scratches then you gifted to them.

Bruised and covered in mud from being kicked down a steep forest hill, you could hear the small group of men on a radio, but their words overpowered in your head from noise. The only words made out from what you could hear past the ringing the fall had smashed into your head. “....I don’t care, just tell say it’s Owen...”

More static noise blasting out as you sunk your nails into the muddy hillside pulling you upwards onto your knees at least. Biting your lip so forcefully it had cracked and drawn blood by the next morning, you held the cries of pain back as your muscles strained to drag your body behind a tree.

Tears streaming down your cheeks, you cradled your side now dripping blood from the ripped open fabric once covering you. The other occupied with gripping your shoulder tight as each twitch of your body shot a current of pain through what might be a strain.

Finally a response over their radio rung out, your jaw tensed as you breathed deeply in and out your nose. “..can make it in a few days...yes ma’am....Gran-” Was it the distance cutting his voice off, or was it your own heavy breathing invading your senses? You didn’t know. It was hard to focus.

You didn’t know if you wanted to go back for real answers, or if a part of you still clung to seeing the man who had his hired thugs strap you to a chair as soon as they got their hands on you. He barley even looked at you like his own, and neither did his partner look at you anything but a specimen.

You being this sick wasn’t the plan, and you knew making it wherever they were headed in one piece wouldn’t be easy. Not even sure if any of them would be there anymore by the time you got there. They had working cars afterall, and you only had two feet. Already your head was dizzy, but it felt wrong to turn away, leave it alone. You could just run from them, head far North until you reach the border and forget all of this.

But you couldn't. They should have gotten what they wanted, so why wasn’t it enough?

Now though, in the early hours of the morning, it was impossible ignore what you had heard the next few subsequent nights. Listening to this man ramble on what was no doubt some kind of radio. Foolish enough to think that you’d feel comfortable sleeping anywhere near him now he assumed he wouldn’t be heard or caught. Sprinkling hints of a deception that became harder to push away. Someone far more collected and confident then the bumbling coward presented to you. It chewed and gnawed in your mind throughout that night.

He didn’t see you coming, knelt down faced away before having his body grabbed by the back of his shirt and tossed a few feet to the ground. Flipping onto his back, he stood up slowly to see you feet away from him. Exhausted and pushed to an edge. He tried placating it but only got as far as your name before you cut him off.

“Why do you want me to go to Boston so badly?” You pulled from something attached to your belt, a thick yellow rope long and flopped down to the side.

Seth’s face slowly melting off it’s aloof bravado. Something deeper inside brewing that you only felt your body tense at. “I don’t know what-”

The voice waver made you a lot less brave but the force which you shoved it out masked it. “You led me there even after I told you no. What’s in Boston you’re so eager to get to?”

There was an entirely new man in front of you, someone more poised with sunken eyes. As if whatever this facade was became too useless to keep up. This wasn’t a stumbling fool, but someone hiding too much. “We don’t need to do things this way-”

You weren’t buying it though. Wrapping both ends of the rope around your hands, but kept low enough to give him hope to talk first. “Don’t make me ask you again, Seth.”

His voice grew softer, as if to entice the part of you that wanted to grant sympathy. “It’s about you.” His gaze on your covered arm, and your heart beat harder. “I knew your Jerry and your father from the old days. They discovered a problem during testing, but you already had gotten out before he could look into it for himself.”

You didn’t even need to ask about ‘they’. He knew them, and apparently your guess of some kind of scientist was correct. Both of them treated you like cattle once they had found you. The ghosts hovering over your life. “What problem?”

“He never told me, and when your father died I didn’t think it mattered anymore. Left Jerry to pick up the pieces without his expertise. He’s replicated the work as much as he can, but the only thing your father told him only made him that much more desperate to find you. He’s a doctor not a scientist.”

Maybe you should have been angry, upset. Dropping that on you as if you should already have known, but on the other hand it might be for the better. Jerry was cold, and uncaring. Your father was entirely too emotional, perhaps closer to disturbed than anything. “I gave them everything they wanted, what’s he desperate for?”

The lack of blinking put you on edge even further. A look as if trying to figure out the very thing he was describing. “That I don’t know. Research has been kept under very tight watch, especially now.”

“And my father, what did he say?”

Seth’s eyes glazed with a troubled conflict, and a sorrow in his voice that told you he knew far more then he was telling you. Flashes in his eyes that spoke of a truth that sat unsettled within him.

“He said this is the end. He said that we are all finished, and he took his own life.”

The trickery, the trouble in his eyes, how this all kept relating back to that day. Your father taking his own life though? Something inside of you shifted unsettlingly, and not quite a loss for family. If you had even a modicum of faith in your father, you had none in his partner. “What I still don’t get is what you were planning to do with me. I mean what use would someone like me be to a lying con like you?”

A debate flourished in his head, saying no words as he almost looked through you. The now calmness in the air, quiet and dulcet tones between you echoed eerily in your voice. You needed him to speak, you needed to know. “What do you think your last breath will feel like, Seth?”

Eyes shutting for the briefest of moments, he let something echo in his veins. Words slipping from him in a level of defeat. “There’s a woman. A firefly-”

“I’m already running from the fireflies-” Nothing but a bunch of make shift mercenaries playing at a war they’ve never even started to win.

Seth shook his head, “Not this one. She’s a leader, has real goals she wants We can trust her, she can help.” You instinctively gnawed at your bottom lip, unwilling to believe in him. “Now if you come with me to Boston, I can get you to her.”

Shaking your head, you bled distrust from every pore. “What’s her name?”

His shoulders sagged as he sighed. “Please don’t make me tell you that,” the tightening of the rope between your hands squeezed as his eyes flickered from you to it and back again. “Marlene. Her name’s Marlene. She’s a good woman, your father trusted her.”

More then a few seconds passed. The wind flowing through the luscious trees nearby, and the grass grazing along the empty land. The peace nowhere near the small bubble you stood. “Why wouldn’t they have just told you what the problem was. If you worked with them, I mean. Bit odd.”

Seth’s head tilted, a softness pleading with you as your name murmured from his mouth, “I’m on your side. I’m one of the-”

Something snapped inside of you. Almost a scream inside your heart shouting at your survival and it consumed your vision within seconds. He wasn’t a fighter, you wrapped the rope around his neck with little defence.

Within a second you kicked him to the ground, a struggle tumbling in the quiet grass as you flipped onto your back. The pull burning your wrists and your own legs trying to keep him down. His struggles and groans eating away at your hearing.

You could only look down at your hold for seconds, nothing close to a fight back from a man who didn’t know how seek out for a real fight. Your breathe was forcibly rhythmic, in and out deeply as your head tilted back as you pulled. Breathing the sounds of struggle away as your eyes fell upon the nature.

The leaves blowing on a tree, large and flourishing in the emptiness that ravaged around it standing tall and bright. The wind flowing like a calm around it like it was wishing to entrance you. Your breathing desperate to keep a deep even as your mind pushed away the burning pull on your wrists. The sight of the trees colours striking against the rest of the field hiding the groans below.

You took your mind elsewhere, you weren’t strong enough to keep yourself in the moment. A life on the outside didn’t make you capable. It just made the struggling figures on an open ground dragging the life out of a man who knew more then you’d ever know, feel like a kind of memory you couldn’t live with if the trees didn’t exist.

Nothing like that existed here and now though. The barrel sights down to a man who helped play his part in many fights that these people didn’t deserve to be a part of.

Once someone too sure of his own bravado, now faced you wide eyed and swallowing panic. His hands at first positioned in front of his torso as Joel approached you both, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he was pulling and twisting the coarse rope in his hands. You wanted to see the trees in that rope but you only saw the purple imprints on your wrists that had stayed with you for days.

But it wasn’t someone tricking you to your death at the other end. It was people you wrapped a new life around, and the only ones who cared about you in return. Owen pleaded. “Come on, please. I’m not going to do anything, do you really need all this?”

Your hands hesitated, grip on the shotgun so harsh for so long it your arms had started to shake. “I’ll behave, let’s all be reasonable here.” Barrel only lowering enough that it’s aim left the eye line of Owens head. Low enough that he had the gall to leap towards you as if having any chance. Before you could even register how startled you jumped, Joel had grabbed him by the shoulders and tossed him face first into the bar counter beside you.

Owen’s head up enough to growl in anger, “Fuck you-” only to be slammed down into the wood with a crack of a bone splintering in the air.

Yanking his arms behind his back, Joel tightened the mans own ropes around his wrists, leaving him just enough room before his circulation, or lacktherof, would turn his hands blue. The mans head yanked back with blood dripping from his nose and smeared down his face and painted the dark surface. Your fingers twitching on the shotgun aimed uselessly to the ground as your shaking breathe vibrated into your very chest as Joel hissed into his ear. “You try anything like that again, I’ll break a lot more then your nose.”

Owen groaned but said no more. Shoving him towards Tommy, Joel only looked a his bloody face for a second longer before taking four strides over and all but shoving the chair out the mans reach. Stumbling onto his knees, grumbling unintelligible swearing as Joel burned a deep anger into his face and slinking it up to Tommy in unspoken words.

Tommy himself seemed more hesitant. Taken back by something he had no way of seeing coming. You didn’t know how much of the other week Joel had even told him about. He at the least didn’t particularly care enough for the strangers well being to let him sit anywhere but the cold floor. He was more on the edge of confused, Joel saw you trying and failing to mask the shaking feeling of silent fear and that look washing over your eyes only had his blood run hot.

Tilting his face to the side, Joel caught your gaze the hard set steel of his expression still peeking a deep concern for you behind it. His brown eyes gestured downwards to the shotgun in your grip, covering one of your hands with his own, the way it overtook your small ones with such warmth had you wanted to flip your palm to hold onto it, but you just let him slide the gun into his own possession. Holding it upright around the short cut barrel.

Ever the vocal one, Ellie spoke up first. “Who are you?” She was stood still, arms crossed over her chest with a stare that could sear a hole in the floor. Her body now against the table, blocking any view of the towns layout from the strangers prying eyes. Tommy stood to his side, back to the wall and eyes to the door while Joel stepped away from your side.

Watching him crouch down in front of the man, you yearned for the grace of someone more worthy. A gun to a mans surprised back peering right through whatever facade he would spit out were you not there. You had felt brave until he turned to face you. Owen’s face painted with fearful shock but yours only seethed with undiscovered ire. Whatever in your body that didn’t shake, a tingling flooded where ever nerves were attached.

Owen’s stare towards Ellie was suspicious. Dots connecting in his head, he raised an eyebrow as he returned her stare. “How about you go first, then I have my turn?”

“Hey,” Joel’s voice rumbled out tight and controlled, just like his unwavering posture. “You look at me, not her. Got it?” Owen didn’t answer quick enough, meaning not instantly, which only got him grabbed by the jaw, Joel’s fingers squishing parts of his cheeks in like a blooded up fish. “I said got it?”

Owens brows furrowed in a grumble but he nodded. “Good. Now answer the question.” His kept his promise, he didn’t look back at Ellie. Just you. Empty eyes with a smile that had been smeared onto his skin like a goo.

“Or you could just tell them, you already know my name afterall.”

Your nails dug into the skin of your palms, scratching and clawing to keep them from shaking. In a world where you knew how to stand your ground, maybe the words would come up out of your mouth. Only they didn’t and you weren’t standing your ground, you weren’t sure your heart would calm enough to give that chance.

Joel yanked his head back over to face him, face even sterner then before. “I asked you.”

No one was impressed with the eye roll. A childish act for a tied up man, “Owen. Like she said.” When Joel didn’t let go of him, only gripped tighter did he remember to act like a grown up. “We used to know each other, had a couple run ins didn’t we?”

You couldn’t see Joels eyes flit back as if he could see you behind him, but that yearning never left his heart. You were supposed to be at his side, not trapped in place by whatever memory this man dragged into town with him. “This is not-”

“He’s a firefly, or was.” Part of you was happy Owen hadn’t seen you in over a year, missing the slight waver in your voice as you forced it to come out in one go. All three of them had completely different reactions.

Ellie was confused. A group in her life held a complicated relationship with her, one that she suspected wasn’t wholey truthful with her, but never had the chance to put her finger on it. Tommy was braced for either side of things. His eyes never straying from the sight in front of him but one foot of his stood out towards Ellie, as if to intervene.

You didn’t need to see Joel’s face to know what he was feeling. Crouched down, his shoulders and back were set and so tense you could see it through his jacket. His hand dropped to his thigh with a thud curled into a fist. Those brown eyes washing over to a black as his nostrils flared as he kept a wild within him.

No doubt lost in what you have found yourself in many times, flashes of light passing your eyes as images that keep you up at night taunt you. You found yourself pacing towards him, hand reaching out to him, but hovering in place at the prospect of sneaking up on him. But just like you felt with him, Joel didn’t need to hear or see to know you were near him.

He just felt you already, taking a deep breathe as his back stretched back, giving your hand the chance to simply push forward and grasp onto the back of his collar like he knew you would. “What’s a firefly doing in our town, sneaking up on my own.” Joel was seconds away from bearing his teeth, if he remained just a strange intruder that was one thing. But none of you had any delusions about what having someone like this here could mean.

“Just looking for a friend is all. Big state you know? Gotta check all the corners.” Joels fist curled in more as you curled your fingers into his collar. The two men eyed one another before Joel made to stand back upright. Letting go to give him space, it was only snatched back by Joel’s empty hand. Keeping it tucked to his chest, to turned so both your sides leaned against the bar. His warm breathe heating the skin of you face still doused from the cold outside.

Eyebrows raised, you could read the question unsaid. Nodding yes, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Don.” Your eyes on his chest, Joel turned his body partway to gesture Ellie to take the shotgun from him. Sometime later, Joel would feel pride of how confidently she took it into her hold and held it to Owen. Perfect form like he taught her. But now that wasn’t anywhere near his mind.

His now free grasp held onto your hip and pulled you at an angle, hiding your gazes from the man flickering his eyes around the room. Fingers stretching from under his, you wrapped them into the top of his shirt peeking through. Unable to decide if you could handle being the subject of this kind of intensity from Joel. “Don mentioned travelling with them for a while, I didn’t know he stayed with them after..”

Joel cupped the side of your cheek, turning you up to his face. He meant to say something, meant to comfort or suggest but your own genuine unease pressed against the heart under his chest. A vulnerability that he spent weeks trying to coax from you from the quiet safety of your room together, but now on display for someone that Joel felt the growing urge to slam face first into a wall, leaving a mark he wouldn’t come back from.

For only a moment you let yourself feel it. Shutting you eyes, Joels hand warm and soothing in your heart as you let the uncertainty flow over. Letting it drip from you head to your toes, melting off as it reaches the floor. Finally you flickered your eyes up to Joels. “I’ll talk to her.” Joels head whipped around, eyes blazing at the mans suggestion. “I’m not gonna kneel here and spill my guts to all you bozos-”

The other two pairs of feet in the room both shifted a foot forward. A “Watch yourself” sounding from Tommy at the same time as Ellie’s far less decorum of “Shut the fuck up.”

Shuffling in place, you could tell Joel was grappling with the idea. A deep protective instinct that threatened to overtake him should anything happen to you. “I’m not leaving you alone in a room with one of them.”

Your cheek pinched between your teeth just a tad to sharp, your mind salvaging for any hint you have a plan in mind. But you don’t, and Joel knows you don’t. Because he doesn’t have one either. Your eyes drifted to Owens tied up frame, gesturing your chin over in debate, Joel doubled down.

“They’re better talkers then they are fighters out here. I’m not worried what he’s going to do, I’ll chain him to the wall if I have to. It’s what comes out of his mouth I don’t trust.” Something within you sensed something coming. Like the polarizing fear sweeping through you when Don had walked into town was a child’s bad dream compared to what your anxiety begun to brace for. But you agreed.

That part of you which could no longer pretend as if you felt anything but racing nerves in your veins wouldn’t admit it, but you were eternally relieved to have Joel. You faced people like Owen, the fireflies always them versus you. Always running, stealing and sabotaging behind their backs it would weigh less on your chest to have someone in your corner, helping you up onto equal landing.

Jaw clenching, Joel’s eyes pleaded a different story. One of a man dreaming of finding a small life with you and Ellie, and having to shove down the urge to burn everything to the ground just to keep you three in that harmony. But the fireflies played a different game. One that burned into Joel’s core, and one that froze yours over.

Sending a shiver down the length of your spine as his thumb gently rubbed over your bottom lip, he was holding himself back from kissing you. Brown eyes flickering to your lips as his fingertips flexed where they sat on your body as if resisting pulling you into him.

Sarah echoed in his head. Holding you in his arms on the porch as you told him unequivocally that she would be proud of who he is, but he didn’t feel proud now. Joel felt like control was slipping away from him and the last time that happened it ended in a bloodbath.

You didn’t like this look on Joel. His handsome features warped by a painful conflict behind, firm and set as if nothing he was preparing to let nothing to get past the stone walls. You wanted him relaxed, soft. The kind of look he gave you that very morning. A smile that you’re not sure you’d ever seen yet. A soft one, a sleepy glaze in his eye and that very thumb rubbing over your bottom lip only then he moved it to help pull you out of sleep with his own lips.

Anxiety shocking your limbs, jolting them like electricity while Joel was reliving the nightmares the people just like Owen brought on him. That quiet bubble of lips and skin against each other under the sheets Joel wanted you to call your own? That morning seems to not exist anymore.

One of your hands drifted around, trailing on the inside of his jacket along the thin layer of his shirt, nails tracing towards his stomach as both of your eyes begged for even one kiss. Something to keep you both here and grounded. You weren’t going to give the satisfaction to Owen though.

So you let yourself out of Joel’s hold. His hand sliding from your waist only until you were to far to stretch out to. Owen’s eyes were far less confident as you approached him. His laboured breathing the only thing in the air as you crouched in front of him.

“You talk to both of us. Or no deal.” If you were someone else, you would have sounded firm. Sure of your conviction and unafraid of the coward in front of you. Not the weaker almost out of breathe hesitancy it came off as.

Owen narrowed his eyes at you. “And if I say no?”

Joel was what you tried to sound like. Deep and threatening, no room for doubt or barter as he came up behind you. “I dump you outside of town face first, hog tied in the snow.”

Warm large hands pulled you up with one of them now refusing to leave your side. Owen conceded just as Tommy called Joel. Gesturing over to the sight of people beginning to mill about like nothing ever occurred inside the building. The man wasting no time as he hauled Owen up uncaring of the stumble he felt from the aggressive jostle.

Owen stood crookedly against the bar, as Tommy circled his finger for him to turn around. “Ellie.” Joel beckoned her, a hand out for her to hand the shotgun over. Glancing between it and you, her face fell flat as she rolled her eyes giving it to a tiny smirking Joel at her petulance.

No sense of personal space as he dove right into the small bag at your side for the ammo he assumed was in there. Loading it for you, he draped the strap over your shoulder. “Me and Tommy’ll handle getting him out of here. You two head back to the house, it’ll take us a while to move him.”

Owen’s wrists rubbing together at the redness already scratching into them, Tommy added “I got a feeling he’s not against making a scene if we walk him through the middle of the street.”

Neither you or Ellie were keen on leaving the two of them to handle it on their own, but you gently pushed her forward to grab her jacket. Joel turning you to face him as he cupped your cheek once more. There was something at the tip of his tongue, but it wouldn’t let itself out. A disruption you both felt in your bones just when he was finally putting a life together.

Gently grasping his wrist, you turned his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm and watching him stiffen and breathe force itself from his lungs harder. A rage inside him that you knew he didn’t want to relive, or even expose you too. You couldn’t form the words, you knew what you felt but your tongue wouldn’t take them in. You just wanted him to know that it was alright.

The disgusting turmoil you brought upon his family hadn’t made him turn you away. His own would never do the same to you. There wasn’t anything Joel could do that would destroy what you were trying to pretend wasn’t a stem of blossoms flourishing into unconstrained winding petals.

But now? Watching Joel share muted words with an agitated Ellie, both struggling to let the other walk away? Wondering if it was mere coincidence that it was Owen who was here, or if you dragged them to your doorstep.

Your mind far off, preoccupied in the possibilities going unconfessed. If this was your fault, if you brought this on them, then Joel should hate you. You deserved it. No reason could form in your head as to why he should support you, he’d done enough.

You didn’t know what to bring to this relationship, and now all you have started bringing is burden upon burdens. Nothing to go on, all you could assume was that love wasn’t supposed to be sharing the brunt of the others problems.

You were selfish for letting him bring you home that day, and he was stupid for going after you in the first place. The gruesome mark on your side should have stayed there. Ripped open and bleed out until you wouldn’t get back up from that blood soaked room anymore.

Fed up, Ellie grabbed your arm with a shout of your name. Turning you towards her, eyes narrowed in exasperation. “Where are we going? Joel said-”

Mouth opening then closing, your peeked at the people around you some glancing at the Ellie’s sudden outburst. It didn’t even dawn on you until now how far into town the pair of you had gotten. You couldn’t do this here, not in front of all these people. You couldn’t breathe around a crowd closing in on you. Swallowing the swarming cloud threatening to engulf you. “I need to get something, okay?” You grabbed her hand on your arm, squeezing it for a moment. “It’s important.”

She didn’t say much as you both walked into the now mostly empty house. You wasted no time, making a bee line to your bedroom as Ellie paced around. Taking in the lack of any feeling home. You had brought hardly anything over. A bag or two at most. Neither she or Joel had much when they arrived, but they finally had started to feel like a home, like a place in the world once long forgotten. You arrived with nothing, and you still had next to nothing.

Ellie couldn’t help but wonder. Is that what life on the outside was like for you? To truly have nothing to find joy in? The clang of wood caught her attention, dragging her over to your old bedroom. Your body knelt on the ground tearing out part of the floor only to reach in and rag out a small box. “So what are we doing back here?”

Hands pausing mid movement what would you even say? What Joel was keeping from here was nowhere near the kind of lie you were keeping from both of them. The lie you tried to throw away the day you set foot in this town. Fingers slowly wrapping around loose drawings scattered at the bottom, you shuffled them together, throat tight as you tired to find careful words.

“Something he might be after.” Head lifting up you saw the question form on her tongue. “It’s complicated. I’m not- I don’t know how to explain it.” Right now at least.

“You could try. I mean I’m complicated.” Your head dropped again but in a breathy laugh, Ellie always managing to let that bemused attitude slip through no matter what.

Tilting your head to the side a smirk played on your lips. “Yeah, we seem to be a house full of that.” Slipping the drawings into part of the journal, you sucked in a breathe with your eyes blinking shut for as long as you exhaled. Chucking the box back into the hole you lazily threw the wood down. Nothing left in there to hide under hammer and nails.

Ellie’s face was stuck in hesitation when you stood back up. Her eyes looking to the journal you pressed tight to your chest then back to your own face trying to appear neutral. “Is that what he wants?”

Lungs constricted and coiled more in your chest. Best case scenario likely being this was all he travelled here for. “Stay in your room, when we get back.” Your head shaking just once as your face tightened and scrunched up. “I’m not asking Ellie. You’re not going anywhere near him.”

Her arms waved in the air, voice raising just like outside. “I’m not just gonna hide in my room like a-”

“You don’t think Joel’s going to tell you the exact same thing?” Inside hoping you weren’t coming across as harsh. But you didn’t know what Owen was going to say, or what was going to happen to get him to say it. Ellie deserved a normal life, and none of this was apart of that.

The house was silent when you both got back. Not a creak or muffle as Ellie charged in first. An annoyed attitude to match such a flat expression unwilling to even keep the door mostly open. Your grip on the journal adjusting and reajusuting multiple times as if letting for a fleeting moment would sweep it out of your possession.

Opening the door the rest of the way, you were silent as you watched Ellie stand in the middle of the room. Her body turned towards the only closed door, eyes wider and sunken in with a deeper hesitation then before. You could see Joel leaning back against the counter, arms crossed with eyes harsh and narrow at the same direction.

“He’s in there?” Half her torso twisting to watch Joel nod once. “Is he-”

“Still tied up. He’s not going anywhere.” An edge cut through his voice, restraining an emotional you knew was a battle to bury back down. “As long as he’s here you’re going to-”

Head dropping as did her eyes. “Stay in my room. I know.” She didn’t bother taking her jacket off out here, just step by step towards the hallway there wasn’t even a blink. Suddenly the prospect of staying as far away from him as possible didn’t sound like a punishment. Stopping in front of the door, she looked back to Joel with her teeth gritting in an anxiousness. “What are we going to do with him?”

There was no response. Joel’s shoulders squared as he exhaled through his nose harshly. Brown eyes just glued between her and the door as his head brewed with thoughts you couldn’t possibly imagine.

Neither of them said anymore. Ellie turned to open her door before taking one last peek at the shut one not far from her own. Keeping her in the dark wouldn’t last, but right now wasn’t time. Not for Joel, not for you.

The quiet air didn’t dissipate with her departure. An uncertainty floating between you and Joel, his eyes now following the way yours stared at the door. Unlike Ellie though, your own blazed with a knowing fear. Murmuring your name, Joel gestured for you to come over to him.

You didn’t reach out for him the way his hand did for your waist. Pulling you closer, Joel stood up straight with a deep breathe. Eyes flickering to the door and back, brows narrowed still. “The hell does he want with you that he tracked you all the way here for?”

It felt like a blame, even if it wasn’t one. What did you to do drag something else into his life? Your grip on the journal in your hand didn’t go amiss. Nor did your casual shrug fool him. “If he’s still a firefly he either only wants me..”

“Or that?” Joel raised an eyebrow towards your hands as his own pulled your retreating body back into him. “Hey. I’m not prying, but if you’re in danger I need to know about it. Now.” The sternness in Joel’s voice carved something deep inside you as did the fierceness in his bright eyes.

Your jaw clenched as the defeat just piled up. His eyes followed as your hands dropped to your sides before you tossed the journal aggressively onto the counter behind him, but your arms returned to cross your chest protectively. “They know about me. Like-”

His large hand squeezing just above where the mark sat on your side. His eyes squinted in confusion at what was in your hands. “What does a book have to do with it?” Heart lurching in your chest, you pried yourself from his hand but found yourself unable to move entirely from his warmth. One palm pressing into your forehead as the other sat on your hip.

“It belongs to them.” Your chin cutting over to it. Jackson was supposed to heal over those memories, but that wasn’t the plan of whoever watched your life over. “I stole it from them, Owen took it back from me, I stole it from him so on.” Head raising into the air to push the sting in your eyes down even when your shaky breathe gave it away just as much. “Either they only got their hands on the book, or lucky enough to try and drag me to Boston because Marlene just can’t give anything up.”

“Marlene?” Joel leaned into you, pulling your face to look at him by your chin. Your own lost ones stark against his heating fire as he said your name. “She was the one looking for you?”

You stammered, watching Joel run a hand over his face. Dots connecting in your mind, your mouth fell open slightly as a tangle of disjointed words tumbled out. “Yeah she wanted me.... and you were in Boston. With Ellie.” A story you knew the details to but didn’t stop to wonder how deeply intertwined it’s words were.

This time it was Joel who fidgeted his body back and forth, jaw so clenched it might snap as both his hands found his hips. “Ellie grew up in there, and that’s where I lived when Marlene got me to take her, or forced my hand was more like it. She was adamant someone needed to get her to one of their stations out west when she couldn’t.”

Joel’s head snapped to you as you started putting it together. “I’m assuming she didn’t specify west meant a hospital in Salt Lake?”

Running his hand down his face again, Joel finally leaned back against the counter. “I didn’t know the extend of where I was taking her until Ellie mentioned a cure. By the time I got her there, it was almost to late when I found out what the fuck they were about to do.”

Blood racing in your veins you hated where this was going more and more. “Because she knew you’d never do otherwise. She seem desperate?”

All you needed was his nod of yes. You felt incredibly stupid. The details Joel had already shared, what Don told you, what had happened what was in the journal itself. That’s why they left you alone after all that time. She found Ellie, and dumped her off with people who couldn’t possibly know what Marlene was handing her off for.

You weren’t sure how long you had been silent, but Joel cupped the side of your neck urging you to come back to him. You were quicker on the draw then he was. “We need to find out what he’s doing here. Now.”

Soothing you, his breathe grazed your face as he leaned his forehead onto yours. “I can do this alone, you don’t need to see this.”

Sliding your fingers up to hold his wrist gently, your eyes as soft as your touch felt opposite of how much Joel’s nerves sat in his fingertips. “You said we’re in this together. So we do this, together.” He took one last moment to hold you against him still with a hand at the back of your head.

Pulling back he grabbed something you couldn’t quite see from behind him, sliding it into pocket inside his jacket before you could make it out. His hand stayed in the middle of your lower back as you both approached the door. The journal left alone on the counter the reasons to keep it in the shadows leaving you moment by moment.

It should have satisfied you to see fresh blood now on his face. Two distinct cuts clotting over on his cheek, drifting down to see his frame tied to a chair looped with more then one restraint. Hands bound to the arms of the seat, a redness that too was blood on his fists. You wanted to feel smug at how rough he looked, but it did nothing to soothe the racing of your heart.

Owen barley looked your way when he saw Joel follow in. The harsh shut of the door behind him making the bound man jump. A rag drenched in droplets of blood and sweat tied around his mouth explained the no noise as you walked in. A sprinkle of suspicion that his newfound red paint was a result of putting far more of a struggle up then he could handle the consequences too.

The air around the three was charged with such a heavy weight you felt as if it could crush you flat. Your vision as it turning white flashed, the slamming pain skyrocketing from your body to your head as it rattled against the cliff side. The blood on your face felt as if it had never been washed off as you looked at the still red stained ones on Owen.

Yours weren’t bound to the arms of the chair. No yours were wrapped behind you, phantom sensations of the metal digging into your skin as it gave way to a snapping bone. Memories you’ve never spoken of, ones you wanted to bury deep.

Joel had spoken, and you didn’t even catch it. Muffled voices quiet and rumbling as your brain forced itself into the present. You had barley moved from just feet inside the room. Joel stood tall over him with the rag now dragged down from his mouth spitting as the words came out. “What? I can’t just pop by to visit a friend? See an old pal? Isn’t that right? Good ole Don?”

Snatching his jaw, Owens cheeks smushed together as Joel forced it to lurch forward to his knelt over figure. “Hey, you’re not talking to her. Just me.” His voice was even, but unseen to your place behind him, Joel’s features stood sharp, a dark in his eyes that worked it’s way into his bones from weeks of torment on the people he loves. “Start with what Don was here for.”

Joel’s hand dropped as he stayed at his eye level Keeping the mans only view of him. The condescension in Owen’s voice circulating Joel’s bloodstream in an angering trail. “Small town living.”

He gave him no response. A stone walled stare leaving the pure nothingness in the air force someone to fill it, only neither you or Joel would do so.

“He’s an idiot, who knows what he was doing here. I just haven’t heard from him is all, a guy can’t worry for his friend apparently.” You knew Owen wasn’t stupid enough to believe that. Part of you wondered if he just didn’t realize why Don was nowhere to be found, or if he was dumb at playing dumb.

Joel’s hand flexed as he turned his head. Barley enough to even look beside him until moving back trying to not shift focus to you. Keeping Owens focus or Joels focus away he wasn’t quite sure of. “This can end right now. But if you keep bullshitting me, I promise you’ll wish it did.”

Owen opened his mouth and closed it more than once. He was a footman. Strong, not pragmatic. A fear not unlike one you’ve felt countless times in your own eyes doubting himself as Joel stared at him. Only letting a few more seconds pass before Joel’s face twisted in anger. Bracing his palms on his thighs Joel pushed back upright.

Stepping uncomfortably close into his space, Joel tugged the gag back over his mouth, but was nowhere near done. You couldn’t tell what Joel had pulled from his jacket until rusting pliers braced themselves onto the nail of Owens index finger.

Tilting his head with an eyebrow raised, Joel was giving him a warning that Owen didn’t take. Just shaking his head with a muffled string of what sounded like petulant swearing. Joel held it to him, breathing heavy as whatever conflict in his head won out, forcing himself to act on that conclusion before a softer part of his subconscious wanted to talk him out of.

A few years into the outbreak you had watched a number of members from your group screaming not dissimilar to the muffled ones before you. You had been pressed inside the back of a desk. Your only sight the dilapitating square of wall in front of you, but the wood surrounding you felt as it it made it echo. Warped, distorted screams as it was followed by a cracking. One by one the cracks followed screams that rasped into sobs.

It was a sound and sight that for a while, was the scariest thing you’d ever seen. A body unconscious from either shock or blood loss as scattered puddles of blood and teeth lay strung about. You didn’t dare look how many were left. There were enough teeth on the ground to know not enough to matter.

You had thought to yourself, never again did you want to be anywhere near something like this. But that was before you were tormented with screams, screeches and searing rips into your skin and clicks that stabbed into your brain until you felt numb to the fear.

Owen didn’t sound quite like any of it. More like a strained groan trying to push down the agony. Your nails digging into your palm with each silence between Joel’s growling voice. Blood asking to drip down from the nails you still had, unlike the man who took his only chance to speak with his gag off, to try and spit at Joel. Much more swearing came from that rip then whatever your nails scratched into your palm.

The red made it look worse then it did. Comparing to what the world outside proved it was capable of, Owen would live. Live without having to change who he was entirely. Your side told you not to feel bad and it was a hard voice to ignore. Your forearm throbbing in rhythm. Neither of those were a fate anyone should feel, but you had. And so did she. Those were far worse.

Owen wasn’t just connected to Don, it didn’t just trace back to you, and Joel had enough of keeping that thought out of it. “Look at me. Hey-” He yelled more this time, nostrils flared as he grabbed Owen by the throat to force him to look.

Owen looked dazed, swallowing hard as his eyes fluttered in and out of pain. “You this embarrassed someone got the jump on you in front of your girl?”

A roaring current zapped through Joels nerves, his hand tightening his hold on the mans throat. “Fine, you’re in my position. Someone breaking into your home? Rope in his hands, sneaking up on you and your daughter behind your backs?” His voice snarling at the edge of breaking into something Joel could lose control over.

But you didn’t give either of them a chance. Your footsteps banged into the floor, heart pounding but unwilling to break eyes with Owens attention, now on you as he heaved in pain. Joel didn’t move, forcing his snarling heaves back down.

Hand curling into a fist around the pliers. It didn’t matter what Owen’s plan was. Joel covered all of Ellie’s sides, and so you would cover his back. You didn’t bend down to their place near the ground. You wanted Owen to strain up in the pain to look at you. “You read the journal, right?”

Joel’s heart tempered down, but didn’t have the willingness to look anywhere but the man bleeding in front of him. Nothing had happened, but the threat was enough. Men like this, people like them? Joel would make sure they had no right to even look at Ellie. They get to keep their lives, their families and there was no comprehension in Joel’s mind to ever appease that they tried to tear apart his for their own gain. Tear his family back to shreds, keep their own when they had no heart or soul as they tried to do it to his.

Unlike him, you didn’t bother with the intimidation, it was never a word given to you anyways. Letting it your hand brush the wrist attached to where Joel’s was, brushing your thumb over the vein you could reach, Joel finally let the mans airway free. Desperate to keep himself here, it only switched places. You felt his hand, large and close to bruising as he held part of your calf.

Owen heaved and you let him. He wasn’t a solider, he had no obligation to withstand this, and both you and Joel knew that. You let Joel push Owen to the edge as long as you held him back from the cliff when Joel himself got to close to falling alongside. Broken at the bottom, splayed on jagged rocks you spoke softly to him.

“Owen. I asked you a question.” He glanced from Joel to you, but finally kept it mostly on you when Joel didn’t move a muscle. “How much of the journal did you read?”

And there it was, his bloodshot eyes jumping to your forearm. In another world, maybe you’d smile, smirk, enjoy the torment. But neither you or Joel did. This was his family, and he was protecting it regardless of the cost.

Nodding, you didn’t really even register doing, but your eyes sat wide. “It didn’t say anything about this, I imagine.” One hand slip the side of your shirt up.

Forearms heal better then the sides of a torso, and yours still looked like a horror. The colour, the scarring still healing with skin bitten and torn into and no disillusion as to what it was from. “Do you think you’re bite will look like this? Or rot to something else entirely.”

Would you do it? No. Humans deserved the fate of other humans. No one deserved what you and Ellie had barley survived. It was more then teeth, it was a blood curling terror like a radiation poured into your body along with it. But Owen didn’t know that, all he knew is someone in the fireflies inflated your reputation to dangerous. And that certainly wasn’t the image of hope Marlene tried to frame it in, no only one other person would have given Owen that idea.

You wanted to crouch to look him properly in the eye, but you dared not interrupt the iron grip Joel had on your calf. So your fingers curled into the side of his jacket collar, one the front of his shirts were familiar with on quiet, peaceful nights. “Don could have told you if his own bite didn’t tear into his neck. Bring you to him if you don’t believe me.”

“No, n-no,” There was the crack Joel had broken in.

“Then tell us the truth. If you’re here for the journal, we can talk about that. But of you’re here for me then that’s a new problem.”

You could feel Joel’s hand slid up your calf, less desperate and tight but now more all encompassing. A need to feel you there without risking his attention elsewhere. But that didn’t matter. The attention wasn’t about you at all. Owen looked defeated at you before sliding his eyes to the thing you feared putting at risk the most.

“We weren’t looking for you. We were sent to look for him.” Your fingers curled into his jacket more as your heart beat so fast you felt it in your throat. A penetrating cold shivering from your heart and outward. “Fuck, no one even knew where you were until now I guess. A few of us have been scouting different nowhere towns looking for a Joel Miller. Just a wild fucking coincidence I guess.”

Joel’s voice was controlled, forcing words out slowly and clearly. Low almost like a whisper. His eyes the opposite as they fell dark and falling down a hole of realization. “Whose us?”

Owen gnawed at his lip before relenting. “Anderson,” Joel tilted his head needing him to elaborate, but you knew. You knew it was a divine force that kept you from falling back. “You know the doctor, the fucking hospital? We’re not with the fucking fireflies anymore, just got a few of us together when she finally learned your name. You killed her dad, so? Fair’s fair.”

Joel stood up, the room silent as your head spun it’s contents. Turning to you, his face was lost in an overwhelming blast of emotions. Yours was flushed, a shiver running your entire body as you looked at him. This wasn’t even about you, and that scared you even more. You couldn’t just walk away to get rid of this for them.

Joel grabbed your wrist on his jacket, holding to keep you close. He seemed to grapple with something before turning to shove the gag back in Owens protesting mouth and dragging you out of the room.

He pulled you closer to the main room cupping the sides of your face urgently, pulling you into his space as you tried to rationalize it. “She can’t, you..I won’t let her.”

Joel muttering your name almost commandingly as he almost smoothed over your skin to quell the panic. “Hey, hey- it’s okay eyes on me.” Your nails almost dug into his chest as you shook in his hold with a skin prickling combination of distraught and a back blowing whoosh of determinating protectiveness. “Nothing is going to happen. Nothing’s going to happen to me, not me, not any of us.”

Your soul felt like screaming on the inside. “I’m not going to lose you, not for this. I won’t leave anyone to-”

Joel pulled your lips into his, a harsh and rough collision that took not just your breathe out of your lungs but his. His own brushing against yours aggressively, pulling back only enough to have you hear him.

“Together. Anything we do, we’re doing it together. You don’t want to leave me? Good ‘cus I’m certainly not leaving you or her. I didn’t do what I did, only to get ripped away from her as soon as we finally started becoming something.”

Joel kissed you another time, telling you to stay out here. Just for a minute before turning on the spot and slamming the door back behind him. A sharp anger on his face that you decided wasn’t worth holding him back from.

Your back pressed against the wall, palms shoving pressure onto your forehead as you realized just who was looking for Joel. If it was her, then she’d come looking for Owen. If Joel didn’t hesitate to go find you the day you took off, then she would come looking for Owen the second it was too late for him to reasonably not come back.

At some point you had slid onto the floor right next to Ellie’s door. This was it. She needed to know about that day. But it wasn’t what Joel did that was the lie going to hurt, it was the truth you had to come to terms with too. The truth all Joel did, was save her from and the pain he thought he was keeping from her was nothing.

You could see the journal still sat on the counter at the other end of the room. He’d tell her, then you’d tell them. Somewhere in the back of your head you registered a thud, but it was too faint to drag you back into the light.

The quiet creak of Ellie’s door however, was just that. She had heard enough to know what was happening in that room, but none of you were disturbed by it. Ellie had been through more then what Joel had done in those last ten minutes with Joel himself. Her eyes were tensely trained on the door when she almost jumped at the sight of you.

“Fuck, make a sound or something next time.” Laugh, smile give her something but you couldn’t. Everything was about to be laid out on the table, and your nerves were crippled with the nightmare of losing Joel, losing her, for it all. “What happened?”

Both of your heads shot up as Joel finally came back out. A redness on his hands that you knew were smears of the mans already dripping blood inside, it didn’t look bruised so at least it wasn’t that. You could only see inside the room enough to see the chair awkwardly moved over with Owen muttering to himself along with it as the door shut.

All three of you looked at one another before Joel looked at Ellie with a seeping guilt in his eyes, “We need to talk.” Ellie’s eyebrows raised in worry but nodded.

“Not just you. I mean, she needs to know.” Ellie’s face darting between you both now confused, “But you both need to know something else. You talk to her first though.”

Ellie looked lost and anxious, “What the fuck is going on?”

Joel’s hand smoothed over the side of Ellie’s head, his heart melting at how instinctively now she leaned into his embrace without realizing. Any of you losing this would be catastrophic. “Give us a minute,” his head gesturing to you. “Then we’ll talk.” Looking between you both, she finally conceded. Joel unable to take his eyes off of her until the door shut completely once more.

Holding his hand out, he pulled you up onto your feet and gestured to the main room before either of you said a word. Wavering looks swimming in both of your eyes and hearts beating just as loudly as the other. “She-” Joel cut himself off with a sigh, handing his head with his hands on his hips. “I wanted to find the right words first. Not spring it on her like it doesn’t matter how I say it.” A strain in his voice you wanted to honey over.

Though you weren’t sure he was really telling you, not past your nerves. Running a hand down the length of his face as his eyes stayed shut. You were in the same boat, how were you supposed to tell the only family you had how much of a lie they were both sold on. How would they feel knowing you were a sliver of that story?

Maybe you shouldn’t have unpacked that bag, your old empty house feeling more and more like the isolation you belonged in, but Joel didn’t deserve this feeling. He’d been through enough, he’s done enough. Softly muttering his name, he dropped his hand back to his hip but still was trapped behind his eyes.

This time whispering his name, hands very gently reaching out to cup the side of his face, thumb tracing against the coarse facial hair. His larger hand circled your wrist. “Give me your worst case scenario.” His eyes darting up in narrowing, an incredulous look but you kept your hand softly on him. “What would be the worst reaction she could have?”

It was clear he’d thought too much of just that, because his answer was instantaneous. “She hates me. I lied to her about all of it, and she resents me for what I did, and for lying to her.” A part of your heart cried at hints of agony his eyes looked at you. “I don’t know if I could handle that. Not now.”

Joel deserved to hear one thing, but right now you think he needed something else more. It was surprisingly easy to pull such a tall giant man to lean down into you. His hands both squeezing you waist as his forehead rested on your shoulder. Winding one arm past his neck you kept him there as you raked your hands through his hair as the other ran your palm shallowly against his torso down closer to his stomach. His deep breaths the only thing in your ear as you let him feel the worry for just a moment.

Let him process what’s being forced onto him so suddenly. You didn’t let go of him as you softly spoke into his ear minutes later as his breathing steadied against your skin. “Do you know why that will never happen?” Hands gripped you tighter, you were starting to speak his silence. “That kid loves you. You’re her whole goddamn world even if you can’t see it. She was sold on a lie that got sold onto you. You were the only person who did the right thing, probably one of the only people who ever put her well being before someone else.”

Joel found enough of a calm to lift his head, steady movements in his chest as he rested his head against yours. Face still twisted and tearing apart with nerves. “I still lied to her.”

When you first met him, you’d never have said anything close to what came out of your mouth in the firm meaning you spoke. “You lied to yourself, Joel.” His eyes widening, a hurt treading on them that needed to be satiated fast. “When you think about that day, do you see what you did or why you did it- no don’t try to tell me otherwise. Because that’s exactly what I see.”

Your hands sliding down to his own waist, “There’s not a single time I’ve heard Ellie talk about everything that happened that doesn’t end in her finding a way to tie it back to something you did for her. Marlene wanted to dump her life off on lies, and you kept her from it because you love her. What lie do you think’s going to hurt more? The one you couldn’t even admit to yourself, or the one people like them just for a chance to get her into a slaughterhouse.”

Pulling your arms away from him, you gave Joel the chance to stand on two feet. The thoughts clearly mixing and repelling against one another as he followed your lead. Giving his body a chance to breathe on his own, his eyes on nothing while the mind behind brewed and boiled. Slowly you stepped away, the time it took getting to where the journal had been tossed feeling like a lifetime.

Your hand paused as you slid it towards you. Eyes flying over the well used pages stuffed with fresher notes in your own once manic scratchings. Heart felt beating in your chest, you had to do it, but it wasn’t your place to say it. You had to let them be together. They could call you whatever they wanted, but you were still just on your own. Joel was her father now, and that’s the love she’s going to desperately need the most.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you quickly moved things. Putting your own notes in one pile and storing it right at the front. It had to be done before regret slipped in. Snatching it off the table you didn’t hide it on your person this time. It hung in the hand at your side, as you looked at his face once more.

No lies between you. Even if it sacrificed the adoration he watched you with. Both of you moved slowly as you handed it over to him, grateful he didn’t open it right away. “There’s nothing I could say that isn’t already in there.”

Joel’s head tilted as he looked at you with doubt. “Neither of us is trying to exclude you.”

Nerves burning on fire, you shrugged. “It’s still your life before me. Don’t open it until after. She needs you first, not this.” Watching his eyes bounce between the journal and you, the defeat crawling over sitting heavy in Joel’s stomach. “I think I pretty much summed it up, my notes in the front.” You pointed to the obvious white sheets contrasted against the stained darker ones. “But it’s still all in there.”

Neither you nor Joel said the words. The grief of losing it before becoming real a fear you needed to steel yourself with once more against as Joel stood before you. Himself holding it back from spilling out of his mouth, especially with that dissonant look in your eyes.

Selfishly, you have yourself what could be a final indulgence of his warmth. Your hands pressing flat onto his chest wishing those warm brown colour of his eyes would stay with you forever. “You’re not a bad person, Joel. Ellie knows that, so stop thinking that she will.”

His eyes skipped down to your lips, choosing to pull you in with his fingers under your chin. Small and chaste with the taste of restraint from losing yourself in the other. Pulling back only enough to give you air, “Didn’t realize this is what it would take to get this much out of you.”

Your heart leaping into a breathy laugh as he too lightly laughed into another kiss. Everyone always had something to say the second you ran your mouth for more than a few minutes didn’t they?

Control slipping, you had to gently push him back before he let go of it entirely. You didn’t watch as he walked away, didn’t watch as he went into her room. The click of the door was a trigger. The air in the room heavy and constricting, as the walls surrounded you. You couldn’t be in here, you couldn’t listen to whatever would happen it was suffocating you. You didn’t deserve to be anywhere near them, not now, not for this.

Not sure if either of them heard the front door shut, you walked out into the now significantly darker sky. Lungs filling with air you could stand as if the house was drowning in water. You didn’t get too far, just far enough to throw your back against a brick wall, sliding down as you lifted your head into the late winter sky.

It was a strange thought that passed through you, wondering what she’s heard about you since. If she was still with the fireflies then she knows all to well the man power wasted at trying to get you back.

Like the faces that followed you with every stabbing pain, she no doubt remembers your face perfectly. One of the hands now resting on your knees twitching as it relived a pain.

The blood dripping down your bottom lip from how hard you bit into it, holding back your voice as the bones in your hand snapped, slipping from the metal handcuffs forcing your arms behind the chair. The chain clanging together as you retched them in front of you, barley making it off the chair as your upper body leaned in on itself, shaking as you snapped the bone back barley staving off a cry.

The darker the sky grew the further down the dilapidated, dripping hall your memory travelled. You had caught her coming around the corner, nearly jumping as she turned to see you. It was easy to see the blood on you was your own, but it was even easier to see what sat on the forearm with the fractured hand. Red skin and stiff hanging at your torso, you had it unknowingly tilted where the ripples of an infection she couldn’t possibly guess was long past it’s prime.

You didn’t know if all of them here knew, a pathetic excuse of a firefly mid stop with too much empty space for them to even think of how to use it. Hell, at the time, you didn’t know a single of them were fireflies. You just knew him, your father, and now her. Judging by her face, wide eyes stepping back as an urgency fell over her face, she didn’t know the person here was you. The familiarity between you didn’t mean anything close to it’s beginning.

It all took no more than a few seconds. One of her hands reached behind her for what you had seen from the side was a gun as she begun to shout out someone’s name that you didn’t give her a chance to spell out. You had done it before you even heard it, arm stretched as the sound of the shot hit your ears after it already casted blood into her stomach. Something inside you wanted to stay, by the time someone else reached her it could already be too late.

But that would’ve been your fate if you didn’t leave. You fell into their laps by accident, but wasted no time in trying to find a use for you that didn’t involve keeping you around. It was the first time you stole the only resources they had, you. And the first time having you get away, ate at Marlene’s desperation to force you back from that day onward. You didn’t even know Marlene’s name until that day in the field, but you new who she was all too well now.

Front door slowly shutting was followed by the slight thud of boots against the wood of the porch. Head snapping up you saw Joel looking out with a squint, his shoulders looking less risen and tense then he had all day. You however, shot up so quickly your feet almost stumbled you back over if not for your hand braced against the brick beside you.

It was too far to see his expression, but it wasn’t always the best way to determine what was going on inside Joel’s head. Let him come to you, you told yourself. Constantly going to him, invading his life, disturbing their privacy was all you provided.

He had on a different shirt then before, this one looking much warmer then what was on you. Part of you wondered just how long you had been out here alone. If the sky had anything to say about it, it might have been far longer then you knew.

Now though, being out in the snow? A lack of anything substantial for winter weather having Joel’s eyes look at you, not knowing if in simple concern or judgment. Standing a foot or two away from you, Joel answered the question he saw you open your mouth to ask.

“You were right.” Your back sagged against the brick, this time though your legs finding the strength to hold you up. “Turns out having your whole life upended hurts a whole lot more then being lied to about getting her out of it.” His voice was shoved out in a gruff kind of pain, his eyes fared no better. Bright but not in a shine you yearned for, a pain, an upset that sat heavy in his heart. Just because it didn’t devastate their relationship, doesn’t mean it wasn’t devastating in every other sense.

You swallowed harshly as you nodded. Nothing even in your throat to say, scared to look to long at him, missing the needing stare he gave you that shined in the growing moonlight. Your voice just weak and cracked, “And you?”

The sigh he let out was loud. Arms crossing his chest he paced to put rest his back against a close by tree. The increased distance between you growing larger, you didn’t know how intentional it was. “I said something when she first told me what Marlene wanted with her. They’ve talked about cures all the time and none of them worked. Everyone wanted me to believe in it, in her so badly.”

Clenching his jaw you could see the frustration build and build. Making you feel like you understood without any idea of how to comfort it in a meaningful way. “But she’s a kid, not an answer.”

You yearned to reach out to him, his eyes glazing somewhat as he looked from the night sky, to the ground and back to you as a darker tone resurfaced in his voice. “She didn’t deserve to be treated like some miracle. She needed someone, anyone, to give a shit enough to protect her. Even from them.”

For once you stood still like a stature while Joel kept shifting his stance or his shoulders. “I don’t know if I even believed it when I went back for her. All I knew is it didn’t matter what they wanted, she didn’t deserve that and I couldn’t live with it.”

Your fingernails chipped away at the brick behind you, “Sometimes desperation makes you dumb. Doing bad things because they deluded themselves into thinking as long as they accomplish something then they can keep feeling as if they’re winning.” Sighing out raspily you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “Couldn’t get me anymore, so the second she found a new one? Getting her on that table was all they a cared about.”

“Even though they knew it wouldn’t work.” Joel pushed up from the tree, letting his hands fall to his belt loops trying to close the distance. “Didn’t matter what the truth was, everyone wanted her to be the one to set all of this right. All I could see was a girl who wanted to have a life. Didn’t matter to me what anyone else wanted, I’m not sure it ever did when it came to Ellie.”

Silence fell between you, that feeling in your throat coming back up like it wasn’t able to stop. Your heart falling over at the pain filling his features. “I’m sorry.”

Joel scrunched his face at you. “You’re sorry? For what?”

Throwing your hands out, you for once found yourself starting any kind of argument. “What do you mean what? How about everything I do somehow keeps coming back to fuck you and Ellie’s lives up.”

Joel’s own voice started to match in a frustration level. “Wait- you haven’t done anything.”

Rolling your eyes to the side you struggled to understand what he was even trying to do. “Right, because you’re lives have been so much more peaceful since I showed up and for some reason you just let me hang around no matter what I’ve done.”

Joel tried to come towards you but you just pushed off the wall and circled around to stay away. “I-”

At least it was growing dark enough that Joel couldn’t see the redness in your eyes. “He came looking for Don, Joel. Don never checked in because I killed him, he never even mentioned them. If he was here looking for you, he stopped giving a shit about you the second he saw me. Maybe if I just let him-”

Joel’s anger wasn’t at you but it sat visibly steaming on his face as he tried stepping towards you, but you just stepped away again. “No. I’m not even going to fucking entertain that idea-”

Your head pounded, every modicum of sound screaming as it flowed into your ears. “Well I am, so maybe you should for once, Joel.”

Running a hand over his mouth, you knew he was either going to yell or going to try and come closer, but at the moment you couldn’t tell which one you wanted less. “What do you want from me? Blame you for everything that ever goes wrong? Pretend I don’t want you in my life?”

If he was growing angry, you deflated it by turning to face him. Not quite yelling, but certainly not quiet either. “No, you’re just supposed to not want me in general.”

His volume grew with yours, as did the sharp features on his face grew twisted and stiff. “Well I’m sorry, sweetheart. You don’t get to just stand there and tell me I’m not allowed to love you just because that’s what you expect out of me.”

He didn’t realize what he had just said. And neither did you. The only ones who realized what Joel had just said, were the half awake birds on the treetops and the single pair of ears quietly listening from a far off window.

You pressed your palm to your forehead, trying to will the headache away with the pressure. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Joel. I just-”

Joel tried to come closer. His heart was turned up tonight, and between earlier, sitting on a way too low to the ground bed for his frame, running his hand soothingly over his what loose strands of hair splayed out from their ponytail as his little girl finally let that insufferably stubborn wall of hers fall down for once and cried into his lap. That everything that had finally brought them together was all based on a horrific lie that duped them both. Neither he nor her having any idea what to feel about it.

It was too much for him, but nothing compared to the endless turmoil spinning behind Ellie’s eyes as they were laid out what this all truly was. Ellie had been through a lot, too much with him, but for once she let herself react the way she needed. She didn’t do anything, she shouldn’t be brave about it.

Now he’s standing out in his front yard, watching you float around too many emotions for you to figure out what you even felt. Your voice wavering and how you kept stepping away if he came forward. To Joel, it was his own actions that brought this down on them, yet here you stood trying to force him to put every blame on you for just existing.

“Can you just listen to me?”

You wanted everything to stop, your lungs yelling at you and your vision feeling like it wanted to start spinning. “No, Joel-”

His hands gestured uselessly in the air, “Why not?” hoping he didn’t sound angry, but sometimes he wasn’t quite aware enough to know how he was coming off to people. Especially if airing on the side of losing his temper.

You told yourself not to cry, feeling a vile embarrassment if you cried in front of him right now. But your throat felt choked up, and barley managed to spit it out. “Because I don’t get it, Joel.” Everything in his face paused, taken back by what was about to spill out of your heart.

“I don’t understand why you care. I’ve never understood it. I’ve done nothing but get in the way, and you keep just bringing me back when we both know your life would be a hell of a lot easier without me in it. I don’t understand why you keep me around or why you even like me. I just...I don’t get you.”

Pressure build behind your eyes while the rest of you burned with humiliation. Being with Joel exposed parts of your soul that you never even thought to share with another, but the undeniable shake in your voice as you trailed off was twister of panic and tears that you tried to push down. Pretending it was anger.

In anyone else, Joel would have taken it in a worse light. But the silence in him as he grappled with just how little you could see how he felt didn’t sit right inside him. He knew part of this between you both was somewhat new to you. What he didn’t know, is that in fact all of it was new to you.

He was new in every way and now it all swirled on terrifying, your eyes staring at each other until you turned to go back in the house. In your frazzled mind, you hoped maybe Joel wouldn’t yell at you if you were inside. It felt different once you got there though. Countless houses you’ve walked into, abandoned, dilapidated, some in surprisingly good condition. Even your own small one in this very town. But something about being in Joel’s house felt different. Like a warmth spreading through your bones as you walked into the front door.

Your palms sat flat against the back of the couch, trying to count how long your inhales were and focusing on the exhales. Slowly your heart tapered down, the walls around you stopped shrinking in as you hoped when your eyes opened once more the world would stop feeling like it was tumbling around you.

Just seconds ago you felt like if Joel came anywhere close to you, that the weight of your emotions would implode on you. Yet as you heard Joel quietly following you into the house, you couldn’t help but follow where he was by the sounds he made as he walked in.

It all just hit you too fast. Giving yourself no time to process so you chose the worst possible way to react. Too much of your lives were converging together and it kept brewing a storm that you once only had to deal with alone. Now there were actual people in your life who leaving would tear parts of you across the distances between them. The only life that had been in danger since you arrived was your own. Having the forces from yours come down to Joel wasn’t fair. He had no stake in this fight.

He only did the one thing none of those people had the heart or the guts to do for another. And people like her had no right seeking out revenge for someone who wasn’t anywhere near close to what was toted around. Truly thinking about it, there was another person in this house who you know has his back too.

Eyes opening you looked over to her closed door, this time at least knowing she asleep. Only time would heal what you finally had to expose her too.

It was hypocritical of you, how the second two strong arms caged you in against the back of the couch, you leaned back into what you knew was Joel’s warm torso. He stepped in to press you closer to the couch so he could cover your hands with his, fingers linked as much as he could manage in this position.

His chin rests on your shoulder as you both stand with the other against you, a quiet that is far more familiar and soothing then any kind of arguing. Joel must have been watching you, because as soon as you opened your eyes to speak, he leaned his mouth closer to your ear. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry again.”

Letting you go, Joel pressed himself more into your back as his hands decide to rest more comfortably on your hips. His nose pressed to your hair you nod in agreement. “Guess I’ve scared you enough, only a matter of time until it was my turn to get it.”

Your fingers dug into the couch more, but you still leaned into his touch head tilting back at his every move, even though he always found his way back. “I’m not going to bother telling you not to be. We both know listening to me isn’t exactly your forte.” Joel smirking against the side of your head at your face instantly falling in a playful offence. “I need you to listen to me this time, though.”

One arm slid across your stomach, almost as if he knew your hands were itching to hold onto him in some way. His hold pressing you against him further at the feeling of your nails scratching along his arm slightly. Your nod not enough for him, “Out loud.”

His heartbeat was so much calmer then yours, clearly having taken his jacket off while your back was turned the single thin layers between you meant you could feel him with every breathe. “I’m listening.”

Joel’s own eyes were off in the distance, staring at the table he could see through the door frame. The kind of nerves he saw on you felt like an echo of that night. So wrapped up in how sure he felt, that he forgot how unused to all this you were. Not used to the feelings that came with finding yourself so close to someone you didn’t expect too.

He knew all to well what that was like. The girl he felt in his heart like a father to, laying everything out on the line for. Ellie could look back on that day and joke about it. Trying to make a scene over how mistreated she was anytime he made her do a chore she’d turn back with a hand over her head lambasting the time he so callously threw her entire body into a wall. “Like a piece of meat,” she’d go on like.

Being told she’s nothing but cargo to him, not knowing the pure terror the day he could have truly lost her in more vile ways then he wanted to ever imagine. How it wasn’t the only day either. A small name he only ever felt pain even thinking about slipping from his lips as he looked at Ellie, unable to deny what they had become and just how deeply both of them wanted to hold onto the other.

It was different for you, but he knew whatever family you had wasn’t even present enough for you to care to share. Spending a lifetime outside any kind of walls or city with any form of order, not until you walked into town that day. You were still getting used to him, just as he had to do with Ellie.

“Maybe in another life, this might go down differently. Ellie decides she doesn’t trust me, I get caught off guard, or by some miracle that doctor even had a fucking clue what he was doing.” Both his arm around you and hand on your hip squeezed tighter. “But that’s not going to happen. We have each other, sweetheart. All three of us. You don’t deserve to be dragged back into this shit. And I’m sure as hell not leaving this world for that son of a bitch thinking he had any right to cut her open for some cure that doesn’t fucking exist. Who didn’t give a second thought about murdering the one other kid in my life who has ever felt like a daughter to me.”

You could feel the tensity in his muscles, wanting to turn around you tried to twist but Joel kept you in place. Pressing his lips to the back of your head. “He deserved exactly what you gave him, Joel.” Pausing your minds were both torn between two growing factions, one of which had to be dealt with before the other. “She’ll try to get the jump on us. Think I accidentally taught her the advantage of actually sneaking up on people.”

Joel’s voice was such a deep and bassy rumble in your ear that you couldn’t help your eyes flutter at the sensation. “Then she tries sneaking up on us. You with me?” Nodding in his hold, he muttered “Good girl.”

Oh he did that on purpose. As soon as your thighs tensed, Joel smirked into your hair. “Joel, we’re supposed to be making a plan- this isn’t fair.”

His chuckle was closer to your neck as he traced his nose down your cheek and jaw. “You saying I can’t do both?” The hand around your stomach started tracing over you, the way you’d run your hands through his air he traced over your front. When you didn’t respond right away, Joel’s lips pressed one more kiss right under your ear before nudging you with his nose. “We don’t have to do anything, sweetheart. It’s hasn’t been an easy day. I just want to pull you out of that head of yours.”

This time as you went to turn in his grip he let you. Your hands finding a home on his waist as he kept his back on your hips. His hair somehow just as light and fluffy now as it was when you woke up that morning. Coaxing you awake with his kiss as your hands found his still messy sleeping hair.

It was just as lovely now, the yellow tinged lights making the greys highlight the rest of the colour that suited him so beautifully. His eyes treading on a darker lust, but instead of a greedy tinge there sat almost a need. Something softer that not even a year ago he thought he’d never even consider wanting anymore. “What is it you want, Joel?”

Just like he didn’t expect this to be something he ever would want, he almost would never have guessed how easily you got him to open up to you. He’s not sure he’s ever been like this with a woman, even in his old life.

But you held nothing but an innocent generosity in your eyes, and Joel wasn’t about to part ways with that either. “Call me needy,” leaning to your face his nose trailed along yours as your eyes slid shut. “But what I want, is to feel how warm and tight you are for a little while.”

Joel read your body like a book, could feel in the smallest actions, the certain pitch of a tiny gasp or the way your body seemed to tense up and shiver at the same time. You always struggled to tell him what you wanted, but he was working you through that. Joel was perfectly happy to take care of you, typically because what he needed matched what you needed perfectly.

And talking wasn’t always the easiest way to get either of you out of your heads. Joel trying to lull you into his touch when you still hadn’t let go yet. “But if she-”

One hand tilting you up to his eyes again,”How many does she have with her, if you were to guess?”

If this was about Ellie, there was no way she’d be involved. She wasn’t apart of the group, and there weren’t many people who would follow her on a revenge quest for the father instead of towards the girl they thought they finally had in their possession. “Maybe one or two others, besides him.” Your head nodded in the general direction. “Probably looked at a few different areas. Couple other smaller communities in the state that they would have looked at first. Likely didn’t realize anything was wrong until Owen didn’t check back in. Maybe a day away from here or so.”

Joel looked through you as he went over something in his head, you guess you still weren’t that good at reading him. Not knowing what plan he was going over. His eyes met yours finally, dipping down to your lips before slowly dragging them back up. “We’re bigger, means she’s got to be more careful. In other words, you can afford to let me have you for a couple hours. Dead man’s final request and all.”

Your face fell flat along with a weight settling back down in your stomach. “That’s not funny.”

He shrugged one shoulder, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Is it?” The unamused look on your face still tinged in anxiety had Joel switch gears again. He didn’t find anything funny in joking about you or Ellie that way, so maybe it was fair you didn’t find jokes about him funny either. “Hey, I already told you. I’m not going anywhere. None of us are.”

Biting the inside of your cheek you shifted your eyes off to the side before nodding. Feeling Joel press another kiss to the side of your head as he shoved you towards the hall. “Go, I’ll be right there.”

In his room and in the hall you both lingered on something. Your fingertips trailing over the almost insignificant things on his dresser. Tiny pieces of Joel that if he were gone, wouldn’t really belong there anymore. A thought making you sick to your stomach. You’d rather she come for you, at least they could go back to their regular lives.

Joels own fingers flipping through the pages. Knelt down he quietly had pulled the journal from where it sat close on Ellie’s bed. He let her discover it, he already knew what it would say, just in details that actually mattered.

She went through most of the reactions she could, denial, anger, lashing out before she exhausted herself leaving tears the only energy she had left in her. It tore his chest right open exposing his heart to the cold air. They were the monsters and not only did they want to kill him all for a man who tried to take his own girl’s life but now the delusional lies they told themselves left her feeling betrayed and used.

But it wasn’t just her was it? By some miracle some higher power gave Joel not one, but two things in this nightmare to hold onto. Sometimes it was frustrating, watching you unable to believe what he wanted to give you, but then again he wasn’t much different with Ellie was he?

Ellie pulled him out of a darkness, and Joel had no intention of not doing the same to you. And he knew damn well Ellie felt the same.

Standing in his room, it occurred to you that maybe you should try to be sexy, allure Joel to you or anything like that. You felt stupid though even thinking about where to start or if he would just roll his eyes at you for trying.

The door closing knocked a sense into you, realizing maybe he wanted you to be ready by now you almost flinched back before starting to pull your shirt up. Two large hands however covered yours as he pressed himself behind you. “Doing my job for me.”

Your arms went willingly Joel stopped to pull your bra up over you along with the shirt, dropping it down into a messy pile. He wasted no time in filling his hands up with your breasts, almost kneading the plush skin as your back arched into his chest with a breathless gasp. He didn’t want you like this though, he wanted all of you.

Using his thumb and index finger he tugged slightly at both your nipples letting you choke a moan back as he moved onto the rest of you. His taller figure leaned over you, the once presumed glare narrowing his features now rung in your head as an introspective train of thought, determined in whatever task even with his arms wrapped around your front skillfully undoing the button on your pants.

A shiver ran down your spine as his mouth bent to press a feather light kiss to your neck so he could reach lower, dragging the zipper down and grasp the waistline. Your shivering from the winters cold air still floating through the room, you felt your limbs tingle as he mumbled into your neck, “Be good for me.”

Slowly starting to pull both your pants and underwear down, Joel couldn’t help his greed, pausing to squeeze fistfuls of your ass almost too roughly before continuing to pull them off of you. Before he could do anything else, once you stood bare in front of him, you turned in his hold quickly.

Sudden movement catching him by surprise, it gave you enough time to already start undoing his belt and zipper. Joel’s own plans caught in his mouth at just how easily you made him so unbearably hard just at your small careful hands trying to pull out his cock before he even has properly touched you yet.

He didn’t let you get as far as the faint beginning of you moving your fingers to grasp at his own pants before snatching your hands. Your eyes wide as he held them in the air, his eyes dark with a mocking disapproval. “Now what did I say about being good for me?”

That tingle in your limbs spreading through your heart out into your veins as you bit slightly at your bottom lip at his tone. Your hands fell loose in his grip causing him to switch to approval. Maneuvering you so he now was the one with his back to the bed, he held you at your hips walking you over to the bed.

“Now, are you going to let me do something for you? Something new?” Your eyebrows raised in question, unsure to what he meant. You thought at this point you had done mostly everything or at least knew everything.

Living outside of the walls didn’t exactly foster an environment eager to share or teach the fun side of sex, or you know, it in general in your case. “I-yeah.” Boy, how enthusiastic of you.

Joel only smiled softly though, pulling your chin in to press a soft kiss before pulling you onto the bed with him. Joel the one laying with his back on the sheets, he guided you so your core sat pressed right against the bumpiness that blocked his cock under the open belt. Large warm hands running over and squeezing the plush skin he could grab at watching you slip your fingers to smooth over his stomach under his shirt.

“Come up here, sweetheart.”

You both had two different intentions. One being you assuming he means for a kiss, the other using his strong arms to pull your hips off his clothed cock and up his body. Suddenly your soft touch against his skin turned into a much more urgent press against his chest, “Wait, wait-” Joel kept you in place, but his eyes narrowed in concern at your tone. Your question confusing him somewhat. “What are you doing?”

His tone slow and clear as he worry turned to a bit of confusion. “I’m just trying to taste you, sweetheart. Just like always,”

Your fingers pressed into him more, causing him to sit up slightly as you looked hesitant and even somewhat embarrassed. “But why would I-” Your eyes casted down at anywhere but his face as you put the not so complicated clues together. “Why would you want it that way? Instead of you know, like we usually...” Christ you couldn’t possibly feel less attractive currently.

Joel raised an eyebrow, letting your hips back down without moving you away, his hands now smoothing over your thighs. “Because I really want my mouth on this pussy, sweetheart.”

Your body tensed which he didn’t like at all. “Why would you, I mean wouldn’t you find that...” You hesitated on saying gross, having a feeling that wouldn’t be a word to go over well. “...uncomfortable?”

Joel’s hands squeezed your thighs as his head flopped back down onto the pillow. Unable to stop wondering what kind of encounters you had out there. You genuinely just didn’t know what he was trying to do, looking at him in the most confused innocent way he’s ever seen on you. “Jesus fucking christ, you’re going to kill me.” Barely mumbling under his breathe. Sitting up properly, he maneuvered you into his lap. “We don’t have to do it, but I really fucking want to.”

Your hands tapping at his shoulders, you seemed to drop some of the embarrassment leaving just an uncertainty. “I just don’t get why you’d want to..can’t I just suck your cock?”

Joel’s head dropping down onto your shoulder as he mumbled even more. Sliding his hand between your bodies, he felt a trace of your wetness, using what he could touch to slide up and rub into your clit. “We can do that if you want. Or we can do both at the same time.”

This time you smiled, pulling back with a laugh as he joined keeping you from going too far off in his hold. “Okay that sounds even worse for you.”

He let you get away with it this time. Joel pulled you into his lips, sighing as you let his tongue tease and slide into your mouth as he kissed you. The push and pull of his tongue against yours sending shock waves between your legs adding to what you already knew was making a mess. His kiss and his tongue always making you so lightheaded.

Taking advantage of how lost you got in his kiss, Joel suddenly lurched forward, sending your back to fall against the rest of the bed as he crawled over top of you. Your hands finding their way to rake through his hair as he kissed you more.

Joels hands unable to choose a spot to touch you, from your hips to thighs and back to to teasing your nipples, he tucked his head into your neck once more as he kissed the skin there.

One hand of your leaving his hair, trailing down his broad back to his narrower lower side before sliding under to gently take his cock into your hand. His hands gripping his preexisting hold on your nipples tighter as he groaned. Joel covering your body so much made the angle not easy, but you ran your thumb over hips tip already leaking onto your hand.

In a move that actually caused Joel’s body to jump, you suddenly smoothed your palm all over the tip of his cock, smearing the precum over it before sliding it down the length you could reach. Enough precum on you to fill the air with the slick sounds of his skin with each stroke. Joel moaned into your neck before trying to smother it with biting a mark into it. He was too long and too thick to cover enough even half of his cock, but your grip was tight and strokes fast but steady.

Yanking your head to angle for his mouth, you gripped him tighter in pleasure at how his hold on your hair was so commanding. Biting against your lips this time until you whined in need of a breathe. The feeling of his lips sliding across your cheek to right against your ear. “I want this pussy, not your hand.”

Sliding own he pushed your thighs out to spread enough for his size. Giving you no warning for how quickly he moved his mouth over your clit. His hands never letting go of your spread legs with a bruising strength, his was shameless in how sloppy he was. Licking at your clit only to almost kiss it as he would your actual lips. The same soaked licks moving down to tease at your entrance, to your clit and back.

One hand roughly shoved its way to your mound, pressing the heel of his calm into your clit soaked with you and his own saliva and rubbed short quick strokes. As one knee bent with your gasp, Joel used his free hand to greedily hold the soft skin of your waist before licking into you feverishly.

Your back arched off the bed as a shock stabbed through you, sending a fiery pleasure into every stretch of your nerves. He licked into you with no cohesive pattern or approach, just drinking from you like a man starved for only one need. His rubbing into your clit lost in your wetness form how little he moved away from it, but deep in Joel he knew the slight burn of drier friction on your clit yanked cries from you.

Your orgasm suddenly hit you with a force, “Oh fuck, Joel-” A white hot train flowing from your clit and soaked right into Joel who only added to the feeling as he moaned into your pussy. His grip already so tight he’d be able to see bruises once he was done with you.

He never let up, “Fuck, baby.” Mumbling to himself as he licked more inside of you, letting his hand slide down to gather more from your core he realized just how unbelievably soaked you were. His tongue grazing up against a sensitive wall inside of you, he gave you zero time to calm down.

The wet rubs of two fingers against your clit, harsh pushing and tight strokes the wet sounds filling the air alongside how relentless he tasted you. Your hands tightly grasping the sheets just above your head as your whole lower half arched closer to his mouth.

Your heart beat widely out of your chest as the pleasure coiled inside of you without ever letting you recover from the sudden burst of your first orgasm. Your legs shook as he kept them bent by the knee, feet flat on the sheets as they were spread as far as he could manage.

You didn’t even realize when one hand left your hip, his grip so tight it held a phantom sting in its departure. Joel’s own hips lifting up enough to start shoving his jeans down as far as he could manage without leaving your cunt.

The groan vibrating through your body as he finally was free down to his knees and pressed his cock into the sheets adding to whatever mess he was pulling from you. You didn’t have words this time, just high pitched gasps and desperate attempts at his name that were interrupted by sharp jolts of pleasure almost bordering on pain.

The flying burn of your orgasm this time felt like a flood passing the bloodstream. A needing warmth engulfing you as the white noise in your ears turned out whatever was passing by Joel’s lips. You missed it the first time, and now the second time.

Joel didn’t realize it either. He knew exactly the feeling and why it made him take you with such a lack of control but neither of you were in the state of mind that night to hear it.

You had just barley felt the final shocks of pleasure as Joel pulled from you. His face twisted close to a snarl as he impatiently pulled his jeans off the rest of the way. Grabbing the back of his shirts collar and throwing it beyond sight.

His chest leading to such a soft stomach made his thick cock stand out between his legs. You touched the skin over his chest near his heart, but Joel couldn’t handle such a soft touch. Not right now. He couldn’t lay there and let himself feel your gentleness without something in his heart snapping. Instead, Joel yanked up your hips and sunk his cock into your folds.

Your name moaned from his mouth, “Fuck, don’t- oh fuck.” You hadn’t come down yet, aftershocks of your orgasm overwhelmed your system as you felt his thick cock sliding into you. Clenching around him without trying to tease, you were still soaking his cock from your orgasms.

Joel buried his face into your neck. One hand fisted into the sheets beside your head as he closed his eyes. Your arms wrapped around his neck, you paused mid motion as your rang your hands through the ends of his hair as one arm wrapped around your waist to keep himself tucked inside you but strong enough to keep you from moving.

It actually took a bit before Joel tempered whatever aggression was overwhelming him. He wanted to do this for you, but now your touch, your cunt, your soft lips always speaking and pressing so sweetly against his? It tugged at his heart just as much as he took over all of your senses.

The grip on your hair tempered down to cupping the back of your head. Joel moving to consume you in a less rough kiss, but the damage was already done to your swollen bitten lips. The plumpness just like his own without the greedy teeth markings.

Your heart slowing down, but somehow still hard enough to feel in your chest at his touch. Joel pulled away, tracing his nose along yours. “Turn around for me, sweet girl.”

Joel gently shushing comfortingly at you at your whine when he pulled out. But you complied. Joel’s mouth was open, panting as his hands clenched beside him watching you go willingly move to your hands and knees. But that’s not the closeness either of you truly needed.

You sighed at how much more gentle his touch was, moving you up to kneel your back against his chest just like earlier. His cock slid between your thighs, already soaked as it teased between your folds. “Just like that, I’ve got you.”

One of your arms reaching behind to find a tender home in his now messy hair, while the other laid flat against the arm wrapping around your stomach. “Please,” You leaned your head against his shoulder as Joel rubbed your stomach and hip with his free hand. His brown eyes bright and so much less of a dark lust, replaced with a soft almost desperateness. “I want to feel you. Please? I can still take it, I just want you inside of me.”

You felt so one note in your brain, but Joel dealt the killing blow when he pressed his lips to yours. Not rough, or commanding, just soft kisses that he struggled to part from. Finally moving to grip his cock, he pulled away and turned your head to look down.

Joel slid his cock inside of you, not spending a moment to stop and let you adjust to his size. Just one smooth stroke that didn’t thrust into you too fast until you were sat totally full of his cock. “Always slide so well into you,”

Your eyes squeezing shut at the sight, his cock was so thick watching it slide deep inside you was too much to handle. Your head leaned back against him, lungs stuttering at how drastic he was handling you now compared to mere minutes ago.

Joel held you tightly against him, burying his face into your neck and shoulder as he started to finally slide his cock almost out of you. Your whimper at the prospect of him leaving you empty poking at something distressing in your mind.

You weren’t sure he ever kept up a pace this slow. Your pussy so tight and wet around his cock, making the sounds of him pulling and pushing his cock in and out so much louder. How much you’ve already cum so much more obvious as he moaned into your shoulder.

You couldn’t tell anyone how long you were there. Knelt back against his chest as his cock fucked into you, not even hard enough to call it thrusting. Your chest felt so constricted yet filed with a warmth that would be cozy if his cock wasn’t sliding right up against such a sensitive wall inside of you.

Inside of you this time the coil was just a slow and calm. But the addition of how tight he already pushed your orgasm too had this build up flutter around you. It just slipped from your lips, the brave face you tried to fake in front of him, in front of everyone crumbled with his squeezing hands and slow slide of his cock inside of you. Something deep in your heart plead. “Stay with me, please. God, Joel- stay with me.”

Your eyes were shut and Joels arms held you tighter. His jaw clenching, teeth gritted as his breaths came out in rasping pants. He pressed his lips into your neck and whatever part of your jaw he couch reach. “Always, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. “

Even as his cock throbbed inside of you as your walls clenched around him, as the burning orgasm threatened to overtake you once more, it all mixed together as you just whispered his name. The drag of his cock along the sensitive walls of your cunt pushed tears from your eyes.

Gasps and breathless pleas let go of the stinging tears behind your eyes and cried down your cheeks as one final loud and wet push of his cock inside of you had whatever hold you had on him dig your nails into his skin.

Your orgasm pulling a gasping sob from you. Just one, but loud enough in Joel’s ears to cover your mouth as your pleasure sung into his hand. Joel couldn’t take it any longer. His cock so desperate to burst, he moaned into your neck and finally came.

Your pussy fluttering around him, as his cum spilled inside of you. Thick and to both of you, never ending. He came inside of you more then he could remember, filling you with warm cum that didn’t stop the tears of your need.

By the time you both came down, you had dropped more then Joel had thought. Your eyes barley open, as your struggled to catch your breathe. Weak nods to his questions, asking if you were with him, what you needed, weak thank yous to him just saying how perfect you fit him.

He shushed in your ear when he pulled out, never letting both hands off of you and his lips somewhere close to yours. You both laid in bed for a while, both your bare, sweat covered bodies, your lower half a little more wet with cum then what he didn’t bother cleaning from his cock. He held you with his nose pressed into your hair waiting for you to come down before he even thought of getting up to clean you off.

Your mind was fuzzy and your face felt the aftermath of tears but none of it had any regret. Your eyes were closed, fine with coming down in his arms as you faced one another. Slowly ready to peel your eyes open, you noticed he wasn’t at your eye level, his face in your hair. His breathing enough confirmation he hadn’t fallen asleep.

You burned between your legs, the mix of rough and soft kept the memory of his thick throbbing cock inside of you. You knew you were covered in cum between your thighs but you didn’t have any reason to want to get rid of it anytime soon.

You did however ask to do something Joel ignored. Smirking, you suddenly left his gentle pressed arms, down his body. He flipped onto his back reflexively to see what you were doing, before hissing out.

Licking the tip of his cock before sinking down around the rest. His cock now soft but it still was coated in your orgasm and his cum. Joels moans were stuttering and needy as he cupped the back of your head, still bobbing up and down his length sucking him until his chest was ready to explode. He called your name in warning along with more strings of swearing through hissed teeth, “Jesus fucking christ, baby”, but you already were slowing down the second it bordered too overwhelming for him.

Your mouth sliding down to press your nose into the coarse dark hair around his cock, before very slowly sliding back, making sure his cock didn’t leave you until you had sucked him clean. Only fair he gets even the slightest idea of how overstimulated he so greedily made you.

Sliding him gently out of your mouth you went to come back up to his level. Your hand cupped his soft length now resting between his legs before your palm moving to his stomach. Chest, and the cupping the side of his face as you rubbed your thumb along his facial hair.

Joel chuckled deeply in his chest, pulling your face to his with fingers pulling your chin as he kissed you. Pushing you back into the sheets with half his body over you as you shared a gentle kiss. “You are such a goddamn brat.”

You smiled back, letting his tongue tease yours as you tried to find breathes into between the kiss. “Maybe. Just for you though.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours then pressed a kiss to it. He didn’t say it, he so badly wanted to say it but so much of his emotions came out in times like this. He wanted to tell you in quiet peace, make sure you understand your heart belongs to him for the rest of his life. Telling you now, he didn’t want to risk you thinking it was just to keep you calm or not upset.

Neither of you realizing he’s already said it twice this very evening.

Only one of those times did it reach someones brain, but to their dismay, it was neither of you who even heard what came out of his own mouth.

You spoke quietly into the night. Joel on his back as he kept his arms around you to rest on his chest. Sometimes you sat up enough to look at him properly, ensuring you both understood the plans, backup plans, and what might be the safest option. At least for in his home, in a town of innocent people.

You needed Joel, but Joel needed you like he never even wanted from anyone else before. The concept of a deep need in his heart to keep a woman like you close in his arms like a lifeline would have been foreign not long ago. But then again, meeting Ellie changed a lot about what was going on in Joel’s head and heart.

You took your time joining the two of them that morning. Still balancing intruding on what was no doubt an emotional time between those two, and wondering exactly what Ellie would even see you as.

Joel for his part was as normal as possible, with an underlying closeness both he and Ellie stuck to each other with with a different kind of silent intensity. You did tell him your news would be the actually hurtful one. Ellie stopped moving her fork the second you turned the corner, a stare that almost felt judging but the slightest softening as she sniffed and forced her face impassive.

Sensing Joel watching her carefully, Ellie glanced up at his flat expression with one eyebrow raised. Her own face falling just as flat. “What? I already used my crying quota for the week. And I’m not getting it all over my eggs either.”

It wasn’t enough to jostle her, but Joel nudging the side of her head lightly before sharing a more serious glance with you. His eyes nodded over to a drawer in the counter, watching you for as long as he could follow. Neither of you wanting to make a scene about it in front of Ellie.

Watching the their backs as you silently wrapped the your knife sheath around your waist, quickly covering it purposely with one of Joel’s jackets that sat just blow it on your thigh. He had taken it upon himself to sharpen your usual knife for you, not before stopping of course to comment on how shit it looked. Words of praise towards your equipment he was full of.

You had found yourself alone with Owen when Joel was distracted. Ellie prompted out of the house from a Maria that gave Joel a knowing look. He had stopped by earlier to talk to them, and she agreed to keep Ellie out with her, purposely around a decent amount of people.

A spark of need inside your heart telling you that he at least deserved water. He didn’t say much, but his eyes spoke for him. A surprise at being given any hospitality.

Almost ending up giving him an entire bottle, you watched him with one hand hovering somewhat near his face. Looking between the water and his face, you tilted your head as you considered if you were willing to ignore the part of you that people like him tried to deprive you of. “If I take that off of you,” using your free hand to gesture to his gag, “Are you going to stay quiet?”

Owen seemed exhausted, nodding his head almost lazily as your chest raised in a deep breathe. “You make any noise, this time I’m just going to stuff it right into your mouth.” There wasn’t much in the way of conviction in your voice, but as you slowly untied the gag he made no sound aside from catching his breath.

Flipping the bottle against the cloth, you let it soak for a while on the cleanest side where it sat at the back of his head.

Silence, Joel was used too. He lived in it, too much of it for a long time even. Even through the turmoil in his head, the quiet still helped him stay clear. Listening to any hint of a sound and knowing how to react to it.

Probably why he didn’t search for you when he found himself seemingly alone in the house. If he had one distraction it was you, and an unshakable need to make sure he could hear or see your every step. The past few weeks had really set that tendency in motion. But he needed silence. And he heard it break.

Getting the jump on him outside in the world was one thing, but this was his territory. Somewhere he could sense the slightest thing out of place. Joel just raised two hands slightly in the air. He knew it could be a variety of possibilities behind him, so he played ball. For now. “You really think I can’t tell when someone’s in my own home?”

“Just turn around. Slowly.”

Joel expected something not quite what he saw. Dark eyes and angry, willing to do anything for that ravaging vengeance inside. But no. The woman behind him wasn’t quite that. As if it was what she wanted to put on but there was an uncertainty in her eyes that made him narrow his. Her face was tense, looking over him with her arm outstretched as much as she could. Either keeping the gun as close to him as possible, or wanting to keep as much distance from him.

“You live here?”

Joel’s eyes darkened more at the woman. “You sure don’t.”

“Just answer the question, you live here right? With a girl? Fucking, what’s her name, Ellie?”

Sometimes anger worked in favour of the advantage, but not against him. Joel mastered the art of anger as motivation and there wasn’t a single second ever again did he want any of her kind of people saying that girls name. His face steeled at her, hands up almost just for show at this point. “Keep her name out of this. I think we both know who you’re looking for.”

A realization dawned on her, and it only pissed her off that much more that he was having no reaction of fear. “You’re him right?” Joel cocked an eyebrow but nothing more. “The hospital, that was you right? You’ve got the girl, after everything you’ve done I can’t imagine you’d dump her off somewhere. People usually don’t ditch people they’ve murdered innocent people for.”

Her own teeth started to grit as she spat her words out with eyes no doubt growing red. “You in the habit of cutting open a fucking child and calling yourself a good person for it?”

Shaking her head, Joel could hear how hard she was trying to keep her breathing under control, her fingers on the gun twitching slightly and not from any kind of trigger fingers. “No right, you had no fucking right he was a goddamn person-”

Joel’s hands started to lower, and yet it didn’t make her any more confident. The twitch turned into what looked like her hand shaking. “And she’s my daughter.”

She shook her head, eyes falling in darkness to something much more complicated. “So what you get your daughter and I have to loose my own father for it? Fucking..people like you...”

No doubt this was a plan much more confident in theory, because Joel risked a step forward as his face twisted more into something of anger she took a step back. Readjusting her aim with an unsteady arm.

“Put your hands back up,”

They remained just barley by his sides, “You think I’m gonna reach for something? ‘Cus trust me you even think about pulling that trigger and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Whatever laugh she let out was weak, but the tense look one could mistaken for crazed told a thousand different emotions. “I’m not stupid, I know you don’t have a fucking weapon on you.”

The one he thought was in the room wasn’t. Getting caught off guard by her after getting caught off guard by it’s lack of presence. Ellie didn’t always put things in the right place after she tries to sneak them away. His voice was low, even, and absolute that it made her hair stand on end. “You really think I need a gun to kill you?”

You don’t remember Grady being particularly smart. Loyal, good at following orders but missing the basic function of checking a corner. Crouching as he snuck into the room, he could see Owen knelt on the floor, blood on his face, chest, hands and a swollen eye as even his gag was blood soaked. What he didn’t see was you.

One arm suddenly wrapped around his face, the fabric of it’s jacket shoved to muffle his voice as the other hand pressed a cold metal to the bottom of his head right at his chin. Unlike the shaky arm holding a similar gun at Joel, you had the advantage of having yours at least pressed right against the mans head. Grady didn’t feel the shake in your bones behind the straining muscle.

Moving him closer to the open door, your heart pounded so harshly that you could throw up from the shaking pressure it put on you. You could hear her yelling, and a dangerously low cadence from Joel, but she was getting louder and angrier.

And while you had this one and a knife strapped to your side, Joel’s gun sat tucked behind your back only realizing whoever touched it last, didn’t put it where Joel had clearly expected to grab it before being snuck up on.

He was bigger, stronger then her. But if she shot first then it didn’t matter how much Joel could overpower her. She was yelling more, and so did your limbs shake. You were supposed to help have this under control, but she was looking for blood and Joel’s own gun wasn’t in his hand.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot you dead right now you fucking bastard-” Joel must have said something in response, “Her dad for my dad it’s only fair,”

You couldn’t stand there, you couldn’t let him deal with her on his own. You push an already aggressive dog to the edge, then she’s just going to go for the throat because she can. Plan B it was. Despite not knowing what that entailed.

A hallway door was kicked open, and following right out was a man Joel didn’t recognize but by the confused anger on her face, she did. Deep down Joel wished the voice was Tommy. There was no hesitation the man could handle himself, and didn’t make Joel feel cold and petrified at having to involve you in this more.

But you rang a warning shot at a higher part of the wall that had the woman jump in startle. What followed though, was a reaction that in a way reminded him of you. Likely an ironic association, because all that it took was you yell out who you were. Her eyes widened as the hand pointed right at Joel trembled. A washing devastation that surpassed mere surprise, something she didn’t expect and neither had Owen.

The man on the floor pressed himself up against the wall in fear as did a new unsettling emotion come over the woman in front of Joel. But you piled onto something that just dug deeper,

Your voice almost a shout that shook in what Joel felt in his heart a terrified urgency. “You know who I am Abby, and what I’ll do to Owen and Grady if you don’t bring Joel to me.”

Whatever intimidation she felt from a man she considered a monster, Abby’s entire being shook. Her gun was on Joel but she could barley keep her eyes on him or on Grady just looking at her desperately for help. This wasn’t a normal fear, almost one that was like seeing a ghost she could only hear.

Her yell back was a rasping screech as she morphed her features into too much to keep up with. “You do anything, and I swear to god-” She’d what? Shoot the man in front of her and set you lose on her?

You needed to scare her. Swallow the dizzying sickness in your head and the bile from eating at your chest. You couldn’t take the chance of her first instinct to act at Joel before you did hers.

You shook as you pointed the gun at Grady, but you were hidden behind the wall from her sight, and the sting in your eyes couldn’t be used against you. Blood splattered all over the wall behind Grady's head, the booming shot and painted red had Abby flinch back.

Joel didn’t move. A deep seeded anger at who his life was at the expense of burned his soul, but he didn’t dare risk letting it happen. If Abby was going to shoot, it sure as hell wouldn’t be at him or his own.

In barley a second, you holstered the gun so quick it could have missed and dropped to the floor. The knife at your side flew into your hand, gripping tight as you hauled Owen over in front of you, your knife pressed so much to his throat he made the most inaudible squawks of protest at the sharpness.

Hauling him up partially on his feet, you pressed with better leverage. “Your boys next Abby- give him to me,” Your voice yelled, so loud it scratched your throat at the strain. It was violent and angry, and you only wished it made you feel it too. Instead you stood, braced against the wall with a knife keeping Owens battered self in your threat as your soul kept shaking and holding back the sting in your eyes.

Abby’s jaw clenched as she swore, her yell echoing down the halls. “Fuck- okay.”

It was the only choice for you and her. She wanted Owen back, and you needed Joel. A conflict in her eyes as she looked between the man now slumped over in the hall, and the darkness in a pair of eyes she never truly prepared herself to face properly.

Abby’s eyes peeled off the sightless body to the open air between it and the door. “We make a trade. I bring him to you, I get Owen back and we leave. Got it?”

You looked to the side, knowing nothing was out the view you could see out the door anyways. “You touch him in anyway and I slit this throat. Got it?”

One request was shouted back. “Toss the gun.”

It wasn’t even a second later the gun banged far out on the wooden floor. You it turned out, weren’t the only one with a shaking fear of losing their companion. There wasn’t a soul in that house didn’t radiate that very perilous fear. Joel looked at Abby with his features sharp and penetrating. Her other hand having to rise up and join her hold on the gun just to keep it aimed at him. “This isn’t over you understand me?”

Abby didn’t appear to know what scared her more. The threat of death you held at Owens throat, or just how terrifyingly cold Joel’s unblinking expression didn’t move from. This was supposed to be easy, kill some guy who shot her father for no reason. But standing here, motioning for him to walk slowly towards the hall? It was made clear that you and Joel weren’t regular people, and this was exposing itself to be something she didn’t remotely prepare for.

It felt like agony standing there, each creak of the floorboard screaming in the terse silence the only indication of life. Owen’s blood was seeping into your clothes and staining your skin at this point and there was next to nothing holding back the pressure behind your eyes.

You wanted to be someone else. Someone brave, a person others would look at and say is some kind of fighter, someone a kid like Ellie would amusingly call a bad ass. But you stood holding a man at knife point trading his life for the man you love didn’t make you feel brave. Just scared. Scared beyond whatever danger you had been alone in the past, and sick to your stomach that it took up until now for you to feel brave enough to even think that word.

They were outside the door, but you shook. Grip on the knife so tight you might have started hurting your own palm with the tight grip as you were hurting Owen’s neck with the blade. The bravery wasn’t even in your voice. “Joel first.”

“Show me him. Let me see him.”

You were done paying any kind of hero or savior. Instead just tearing the knife away and shoving Owen enough that he stumbled onto the ground. Hands behind his back still too bound to steady him.

Joel was handed over first. Whatever passed between them unknown to you until a tidal wave hit your heart as you both reached for the other the second he came in view. Joel’s own expression harsh, nostrils flared as his rage was barley contained in his bones. His warm hands gripping your forearms as he looked at a watering overflow of something grander then fear pass your face as you looked him over for anything hurt.

He cupped one of your cheeks as you took a deep breathe. Joel’s eyes narrowed in question, and you nodded. Hoping the shaking breathe you let you was only audible to one. His hand keeping your touch as it wasn’t leaving one of your wrists, almost keeping your mind back at his side as you turned the corner.

Neither of you looked like the visage of bravery your actions spoke. Neither of you even tried. Abby’s eyes widened with a taken back sort of shock as she looked at you. A name she kept hearing and denying, but your face that of what she long remembered as a memory. A bite sharp on your arm before watching your gun raise as she fell back to the ground.

She lived, and kept trying to deny that you could have either. But you both looked at each other, as she held her own gun to you. Resting one side against the door frame just to keep it steady, while your own hand kept the knife painfully tight.

Joel stood behind you, and you felt him pull up your jacket slightly, resting the fabric to expose what you had hidden away behind you. Abby was staring at you and you back, she didn’t even see Joel’s hands moving near your back.

Her words slurred together, teeth bordering on gritting from the force. “Give him to me.”

Joel squeezed your arm holding the knife. Don’t move was his touch. Abby’s gaze continued to plaster all over you, and yours taking her person in, in a capacity she couldn’t possibly even guess now. Blood ringing in your ears hearing the shuffling behind you. Abby kept it on you now, a woman much more a fighter unable to tear her attention away from how entangled your lives became.

Your own eyes stung. Unable to move or blink, looking at the very thing that confused you. Was her being here what scared you, or how very real losing the one thing that brought you to a purpose was becoming?

As soon as Joel slightly pushed Owen, Abby snatched him with one arm and yanked him to her side, Owen barley keeping himself up despite his hands now free. Joel having undone them bringing him over. But as soon as he was out of his hand, he reached for your back once more. His arm smoothly pulling the gun, and now aiming it at Abby. She didn’t just try to kill him, now she had her gun pointing at you and it was pushing Joel to an edge he was close to forcing you to let him fall off.

His instincts were quicker then hers, and he dared her to end it the smarter way, as opposed to joining the mess on the walls behind her.

Her eyes flickered between the two of you, mind racing with questions not even she could understand at that moment. You weren’t supposed to be here, this wasn’t even about you. Blind to what kind of people she walked in on, she just looked at you and Joel unable to land on what to do.

You could feel something vile rising in your throat, just as unable to grasp what was unfolding in front of you. Abby had no right to make this about Joel. Either she knew the truth and lost herself beyond the capacity of her own humanity, or she was left in the dark and didn’t care to turn the lights on herself. A fact you couldn’t feel okay with. Your voice was mostly just a whisper once you found the strength to push something forward. “This is really just about your father?”

You didn’t need to hear the answer to that. You already knew by a confused pain in her eyes. Not understanding what else this could possibly be over. To her it was almost a taunt, her failure she was able to see through, but to you? A memory that no longer felt pushed away. A truth that was fighting tooth and crawl to attack you at your door.

Owen leaned against her exhausted and bloody. Lowering her gun she glanced down to your arm, it was covered and there was nothing to see though. Remaining you a ghost.

Her gaze flicked to Joel’s own aim, no shake or tremble to be found. Don described nothing more then some guy had done it, but the inflamed emotions boiling behind Joel’s eyes wasn’t the story she had been sold on. So they ran. Slamming open a back door you not to long ago ran out of just as harshly, also running from these very people but for drastically different reasons.

You didn’t register Tommy or Maria coming in, you only had the capacity to feel Joel pull you into his chest. One arm wrapped tightly around your stomach as you finally leaned back into him. Your eyes squeezing shut, you felt Joel gently take your knife from your fingers and put it back in it’s sheath as he spoke to Tommy.

You grabbed the wrist that wasn’t around you, holding it just as he did when he first came back to you still needing him to ground you to the floor. These weren’t two worlds ever meant to mix. This was supposed to be a solace for him and a breather for you, but you combined your lives and now stood a mess painted with the looming of blood.

Was this your fault? And if not why couldn’t you have done something to actually end this?

You thought back to the night you and Joel opened up to each other. How the worst emotion you felt was finding out how Tommy blabbed about your feelings for him by the very man you had the such a humiliating crush on. How letting him in was so scary to you back then.

Would all of this have happened anyways? Or was letting him kiss you that night, pull you into his arms and he yours forever entangling your hearts in ways new to both of you the catalyst?

If this was all your fault, would Joel end up despising you for not fixing this?

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us imagine

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inbetweenhours · 1 year

Photo

Because I am obsessed with this one line from Battle Cries by The Amazing Devil and will continue to reuse it in artwork I of course had this though for using it in comparison to the twins of Rivendell, Scott and Xornoth. As I though more about the piece it evolved into a study of the cycle of corruption and hate between brothers within Rivendell’s leadership. This fight that was born in Rivendells foundation and which died only with the kingdom itself.

Doing this I managed to put a lot more thought into my actual ideas about how the majorly slumbering pantheon that the Stag Gods herald from operates its history especially. I revisited my concepts of Alinar and Cohnel, and I made sure to keep in mind the key differences in all the brothers relationships, as well as how the corruption and championship affected them.

Below the cut im gonna ramble about the lore both canon and MOSTLY my won fanon that provides background to this piece and how it came together in my head :]

I am going to go through each set of brothers and describe their history. From their conception, to their finality, in the context of being a pair.

The Stag Gods are unique in their conception. For the sake of ages they are affectively twins. The pantheon they hail from was born in the time after the titans fell. As Pixlriffs describes in his opening to season 2, mighty titans once roamed the earn and when they fell their bodies became the lands that empires now rise and fall on today. The era of gods that Exor and Aeor were conceptualized in were some of the first creatures to evolve to inhabit the lands that these titans bodies became. The first stags, the first serpents, the first flora. The first seasons, of winter, to spring, and summer. Wilderness was born and from it rose divinity in its first era. That of the Stag gods.

When Aeor and Exor were young fawns they were nothing more than animal. Young and reckless, exploratory as they took on their responsibilities. Bringing order and chaos, winter and summer. A cycle ever chasing one another. They were so different, but they were brothers. They could not be without the other, as is their cyclical nature.

They are affectively the same age. And they grew up in a time where they and the other gods were the only sentient life around. They are neither benevolent nor malevolent gods. No deity is, because those are mortal terms. Their understanding of mortality is comparable to human understanding of ants. They work, and they have built great things have systems. But everything looks so simple from the gods view.

The gods take care of mortality in the same way a man may take care of his dog. The dog is loyal and loved and cared for, but it is still only a dog. When the corruption first rose it ugly red shades across the land the gods grew weary. It threatened their precious pets, destroying mortalities hard work and making them ill and crazed. So the pantheon banded together and supposedly defeated The Corruption. It took the full strength of most, and so most of the pantheon fell into slumber. The Stag Gods among the few who continued to stand.

The brother stags founded Rivendell high in the mountains, a place to protect and watch over the mortals they personally had found preference in, the elven civilization. For a long time the elves worshiped both stags, but as time went on a preference for Aeor and his orderly ways grew. Exor grew jealous, and emboldened by the last remnant of The Corruption which has laid in wait for it time to rise again, he acted out. And as more and more conflict grew between the brother stags, the corruption took its hold in Exor, turning him cruel and greedy, and in turn twisting up all the gods followers as well.

We all know how this story ends. Aeor and his brother fight, divided finally, futile, by The Corruption, and Exor alongside his followers are banished to the mountain peaks to waste away in the caves.

Alinar and Cohnel are the next of the brothers. They are third generation Rivendells citizens. Alinar is older than Cohnel, by some years. They come from a comfortable family, nothing so noble, as the country flourishes around them. They play together in the streets, Alinar leaning Cohnel by the hand too keep him from running off. The play in the snow and as thy grow older dare to hike further and further into snowy peaks. Till one day they would discover the ruins of where Exors fanatics were one sealed away.

Alinar would urge them to leave, taking Cohnel home. Enough warning in old tales told as bedtime stories enough to ward him away. But not Cohnel. Ever cursed with youthful curiosity he would return alone. And he would not be seem for many months. Declared missing Alinar would mourn, grow, and push himself to help others where he could not his brother. He would join the council leading Rivendell, where he would be in a position to see the rampant increase of missing persons. The unease and fear it drew throughout their kingdom.

And under oath to protect the people Alinar would set out, meet his brother again on the battlefield. Now corrupted from his once boyish youth Cohnel is nothing of the baby brother Alinar once guided. Still, the boy has their mothers nose, and the same eyes. Alinar is weak in one moment and decides he cannot kill his baby brother. But he is a member of the council and a hero of the people. Aeor gives him help, guides him as his champion and brings him to the conclusion of a banishment spell. So he does just that, never to see his brother again, and goes on to become the champion of Rivendell. Heralded as its first king.

The final set of brothers are best known I presume. Scott and Xornoth, twins of Rivendells monarchy. Xornoth is older, and that is important to me as I often debate giving them a real age gap but I will stick with the twins lore for now. Descendants of Alinar. As members of the monarchy these brothers lives are different to the others. They found more solace in one another as refuge from responsibility and ridicule from their parents.

Both princes grew well educated, and with that they knew even more of their history than perhaps the general public were privy. Their ancestry, and that of the gods more available. Both were devout in their academics and their religion, as they were brought up to be. However a key difference was Xornoths ability to push boundaries, push questions. Always a thirst for more, more more- especially in the way of knowledge. They drudged up arguments with mere curiosity and while Scott entertained his brothers thoughts, he was much more well behaved. Not risking mentors or parents good temperament for answers when he could easily keep his mouth shut.

Still, he encouraged Xornoth’s curiosity, even as it grew more fascinated with more forbidden insight. More curious to Exors scorned history. With so much historical documentation of devotion to Exor destroyed out of fear a long, long time ago Xornoth only grew more despertaly curious. And when they found note of old banished groups of ollowers in the mountains he pleaded with Scott for a coverup.

Scott allowed it, the two sneaking away and Xornoth returning with an ancient tomb. Obsessive was what Xornoth was turning into, red glint in their sharp eyes growing more by the day till finally something gave. Where there was once passive irritation and distain Xornoth grew quick to anger and violence. Till finally the ysnapped, and in a late, fitful arguement with their parents they killed them both.

Scott had not an idea what happened. Not until he awoke the next morning to maids screams. His parents dead, and his brother gone- nothing more than a banishment sigil burned into their bedroom floor as indication to where they had went. Scott would be coronated, and with his kingship he only became more devout to Aeor.

Scott believed his brother dead, and moved on for over a decade till the events of season one as we know it. Xornoths return, the understanding of what had happened to them. Being championed, and capturing his brother. Hoping dearly to find a way to undo Exors influence. Till finally out of time the two battle on Rivendell peaks, overrun with corruption.

Scott decides to be selfless, killing himself on the rune blade. and As he bleeds out Aeors presence withdrawals from him. As Aeor withdrawals, so does Exor. Until it is only Scott, delirious with bloodloss and pain. Until it is only Xornoth, finally in their right mind after decades of corruption and divinity puppeteering them. And they see their little brother, and know they had failed to protect him from themselves when they ran away. There is nothing left to be done as Xornoth moves to hold Scott in their last moments. Offering the smallest comfort as death takes them both by virtue of their connection.

The cycle of brother, loved and corrupted, which started in the seeds of their kingdoms foundation and that has withered with its end. It is all finally over.

#smajor #dangthatsalongname #xornoth #esmp alinar #esmp cohnel #esmp aeor #esmp exor #esmp #empires smp #empires smp 1 #empires season 1 #esmp rivendell #hourspost #hoursart

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Note

oh my GOD I’m going through ur roadtrip playlist and am loosing my mind over fergalicious

like just imagining it coming on in the car

will being all jumpy and excited

and nicos like ??? wtf ?? is this???

and then the words start and will is spitting out every line all cocky and very animatedly singing to nico like blowing kisses to him with the track “muah muah”, doing little air hammer curls on each “i be up-in the gym- just workin- on my- fitness” and then reaches over motioning to nico “he’s my witness” just very sassy playful and soo so into it.

and nico would try to tease at first like “oh my gods will turn this off” but quickly become very flustered and entranced

i feel like either driving would be grEAT

it’s either nico trying to keep his eyes and attention on the road as will is singing and dancing and trying to rope him into it

or it’s will doing too much while driving, using one hand while the other is flailing about and he’s twisting all around but is still driving excellently, and nico kind of wishes he wasn’t because then he’d have a valid reason to shout at him to cut it out for real, because he’s not sure he’s going to live through the end of the song with the way the butterflies in his stomach are going insane, twisting almost as violently as will is dancing and he’s just rlly not sure he’s going to make it

and then the lil interlude + rap comes on

and nico’s gone for, he’s sure of it

and will’s oblivious

jumping to turn it up even more

so SO sassy

“honey get some patience, maybe then you’ll get a taaahste”

“taystay tastah”

nico is dying, and-

“-drama lil mama I don’ wan’ a take yur man”

is that his country accent??? slipping out?? yes- it is.

nico is simply,

dying.

will is having a blast though, in his own little word

except nico is fully in this world, because will is genuinely performing to him

and he might need to bury his face in his hands if the song doesn’t end soon

i got waaay too carried away with this lmfao :,)

its so long??? im so sorry😭😭

i LOVE ur writing and i LOVE how u write them

so if u do this, ill eat it up in any way u do it

this is just me rambling as i listen to fergalicious over and over

thx for the stellar playlist

enjoying it lots

muah! muah!

LMFAO YES AGREED CONSIDER THIS CANON!!!! only tweaking it to add a detail i haven’t fully revealed yet — nico’s sister was killed because of a drunk driver when he was little. aside from jules-albert, he doesn’t EVER let anyone drive him around. will is v much passenger princess in that vehicle keeping nico thoroughly distracted lmfao

#F TO THE E TO THE EYES ON THE ROAD #ask #road trip au #road trip

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gwaaaaar · 4 months

Text

breaking my silence...

whoever told me the second half of death note was trash... YOURE WRONG YOURE WRONG YOURE WRONGGGGGG 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣 MELLO AND NEAR ARE WORTHY SUCCESSORS TO L YOURE JUST A STAN!!!!

near... sweet jesus baby they didnt deserve you !!! I was so pleasantly surprised to see how distinct he was despite people calling him "white haired L". LIKE hes a lot more cautious than L but isn't above being a sarcastic little shit and actively causing problems... i read a fan translation and he uses a lot of cuss words to refer to certain people he dislikes. I dont know if thats in the official translation as well but i do like the visual of this 7 yo saying "asshole" and "dickhead". I know hes 17-18 and this is average teenage behavior but gah hes so cute and moe and make little "vrooooom" noises when playing with his toys... 🥺 cant help but stan. Hes in his zone unbothered...

AND THE FACT HE CHALLENGES LIGHT IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE SO BLATANTLY... no mind games no time for light to make his next move just fuck it we ball. Also very fond of the scene where he drops hundred dollar bills off the SPK building. He's unpredictable just like Mello is but in a different way and its fascinating i love this guy. Also enjoy the fact that his flavor of justice is that he doesnt really have one hes just doing his job. The verbal beatdown he does at the end about how lights just a crazy serial killer... GET HIS ASS NEAR !!! Hes not pretentious and its just... its just good you know? L wasn't very pretentious but he does call himself justice sometimes and stuff along the like(?) Near drops all pretense... cant help but stan

Also really fond that he actually likes mello its just mello doesnt like him... I know canon never explicitly states their relationship with each other, like if its a brotherly relationship or not (altho isnt there some cain and abel parallels??? Not sure). But i really do see a siblinglike relationship between the two. Canon doesnt really put any angst on their relationship bc near doesnt care lolol, but the two do remind me of certain siblings that have a strained relationship because of the pressure put on one of them (or on both. Again fuck wammys house all my homies hate wammys AND WATARI!!! ME WHEN I GET YOU!!!) I really would love to see the two interact... and maybe just be happy by each other/pl. Because god it really terrible to see how much mello hates near and its not even nears fault :,). AND FUCK THE CHOCOLATE BAR HE EATS AT THE END TO HONOR MELLO???? STOPPPP IM GONNA CRY... near the man that you are... they dont deserve you baby...

And smello... mello mello mello... I've heard more positive things about him compared to near bc hes more "interesting" and i can see why people take that angle BUT. God they still undersell him so much??? I feel like hes one of the few characters to have a goal besides catching Kira (or not getting caught) because of his inferiority complex. I do not mean to undersell any of the other characters when i say this because theyre all very complex! They all have their driving goals and the like. Its just that i argue that Mello's is more persistent and that it is not centered around the conflict but rather himself. Even if he caught Kira perhaps he would still never be happy with himself because Near is always "going to be better" because of the shit he went through in wammys. Theres a whole discussion to be had abt the ethics of wammys house... but ill save that for another post wwww.

Mello is also someone that isnt pretentious about his idea of justice bc hes a fucking criminal. (BTW i love the two opposing sides of the successors... one that tries falling within the law but still doesnt give a shit and the other that doesnt give any shits at all and eventually helps the law.) And its so... I LOVE YOU RUTHLESS CHARACTERS I LOVE YOU CHARACTERS THAT STOP AT NOTHING TO GET WHAT THEY WANT.

And the thing is ... Mello does have his own sense of justice because its not as if he sacrifices innocent bystanders to get what he wants he just does what is necessary. LIKE ofc its fucked up that he kidnapped sayu (and traumatized her...), takada (and the stripping... but at least she got a blanket:,) honestly tho id blame that on the misogyny of the authors) and the director of the police im not about to be a mello apologist (yes i am/j). But a. He probably knew no one was going to get hurt in the first place because hes just that damn confident. b. His remorse for matt and soichiros deaths show that he doesnt intend on sacrificing anyone and when things go astray it saddens him a little. And c. THE FACT HE PROBABLY KNEW HE WAS GONNA DIE AND STILL SACRIFICED HIMSELF TO HELP NEAR... near would "win" but mello prioritized putting kira behind bars and while i cant guess his motive, from my end it does seem like in extension he prioritized doing the right thing, which would be to sacrifice his life and pride to help near get the final piece to catch mikami... wow what a man im so deathly ill

After typing all this, i must say... is L really as complex as years of DN fans have said?? I think im about to get crucified for this opinion, but legitimately is he??? I think he is complex most certainly just... maybe not as much as others have said... i might just be missing details about his past + lore from external media so maybe thats why i have this opinion. But i feel like the successors *are* toe to toe with him despite their split screen time... idk tho :3 this is just my thoughts meow

#death note #death note mello #death note near #l lawliet #Mello #Near #mihael keehl #nate river #Feel free to beat me with hammers in the comments meow

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realbeefman · 8 months

Note

Do you have any good house fic recs? I am Struggling with my search.

for sure! although Disclaimer, i havent been reading house fanfic for very long and ive pretty much only read house/wilson so far, SO this is more of a hilson fic rec list than anything lol

Warning Signs by out_there - oneshot, 12k words, Wilson-POV, set around the end of s3. SUCH A GOOD FIC i laughed so much while reading this. genuinely delightful. possibly my fav house fic i’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.

The Line of Thought by tevinterimperium - oneshot, 12k, Wilson-POV, set after s3 e15. THEEE classic fake-dating AU. this was the first fic i read in this fandom and it absolutely fucks. im a SAP i love a good “no homo but OH GOD THE FEELINGS” plot!!

Desert Mesa Motel - 8 miles outside of Kingman, Arizona - 12:03 AM by plorp - ficlet, 1k, House-POV, post-canon. this makes me BAWL. very very good fic but SAD. and DEPRESSING. will make you CRY/pos

How Not To Be Boring by fourleggedfish - incomplete/abandoned, 497k, Wilson-POV, AU from around mid-s5. if u like whump (which i absolutely do) u will probably like this fic. if u are squicked out by sex, u will hate it bc these guys bang 24/7. this fic had me pacing, glued to my phone, sick to my stomach, crying (several times), and obliterated my sleep schedule. i can’t rec it highly enough. every chapters includes appropriate content warnings, but some major themes that appear throughout are character death (not of main characters), the aftermath of severe child abuse, and mental illness. if any of these topics are a trigger for you, please don’t read this work.

Forsake Me Here by MonsterBoyf - complete, 8k, Wilson-POV, ambiguous setting. Wilson has intrusive thoughts about mutilating House. He tries to cope. features a lot of very graphic imagery and does an excellent but extremely accurate job of portraying an OCD-spiral that could be triggering to people. i LOVE this fic i think about it so so much.

An Inconvenient Truth by anathaema - complete, 15k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. contains the quote “You’re the suicide bomber of revelations” and is one of the funniest things i’ve ever read. plus the way in which wilson’s sexuality in this fic is handled is honestly so realistic and entertaining. HIGHLY recc this to absolutely everyone who enjoys hilson

the more it took away by scribespirare - oneshot, 10k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. Omega!House has his first heat since presenting. Alpha!Wilson helps him through it. I LOVE OMEGAVERSE AND I LOVE FUCK OR DIE AND I LOVE THE WAY THIS FIC HANDLES THIS IS JUST GRAHHHH. If u don’t enjoy omegaverse u won’t like this but i can’t make a house fic rec list and NOT include this one

Aftershocks by black_cigarette - series, around 125k in total, various POV’s, set sometime post-Tritter arc. this fic IS gen, but honestly, i didn’t know that going in and didn’t realize it wasn’t a slash fic until the very end. tldr is that wilson is brutally assaulted because house has been gambling with some unsavory people, and house helps him deal with the aftermath. this fic does not pull punches. its is extremely graphic and everything wilson goes through is described in detail. it is a messy story about recovering from brutal trauma and everything that entails. DISCLAIMER: there are sequel(s) to this series available on the author’s livejournal, but i haven’t read them and can’t speak to anything they discuss.

no need to worry (making up your mind) by scribespirare - complete, 25k, House-POV, set sometime in the early seasons. House lies about having a Jewish boyfriend to get out of visiting his mother at Christmas. Things quickly get out of hand. THIS FIC IS SOOO *tears into it with my teeth*. I love when they scheme together <3

#ty for the ask!!! had a lot of fun thinking abt which fics i enjoyed the most/stuck with me the hardest #tried to provide tws for everything but if i missed anything plss call me out #house md #hilson #housefic #house md fic recs #hilson fic recs

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autisticlancemcclain · 10 months

Text

fic rec friday 35

welcome to the thirty-fifth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Send Down the Rain by @azapofinspiration

Lance missed rain. As much as he missed his family and his home, he missed rain almost as much.

However, rain has to exist somewhere out in the universe, right? Even if he can't go home, Lance should be able to feel rain and soak it.

Right?

Five times Lance tried to find rain and the one time he did

lance should have gotten the rain in canon. he needed that. and god did azap fucking deliver!! this fic is sweet and this fic is sad and this fic is melancholy and this fic makes you want to throw up and this fic makes you feel alive. i fckn love this fic

2. Brawler by @admiralcanthackett [GORE WARNING]

I have no summary for this beyond Lance and Keith get ambushed and Lance is a determined motherfucker who fights dirty. Keith is mildly turned on and largely impressed.

you ever want to see lance, feral, thinking only of protecting his family, rip someone’s throat out with his teeth? no? well, i didnt either, but it turns out that i needed to read it, so. and just to clarify this series isnt just lance going batshit insane, although there is plenty of that, it also has some tender klance gong over trauma so thats fun

3. nobody has to know (nobody but me) by xeah

Lance has a secret, and he’s taking it to the grave –except, he didn’t think the ‘taking it to the grave’ bit would happen quite so soon.

When the team head planetside on a diplomatic mission, Lance can’t decide if he’s ecstatic about it, or about to endure an intense bout of homesickness. Sure, the planet looks cool, the aliens themselves are pretty chill considering they’ve singlehandedly fended off Galra attacks up until now. But thanks to Pidge making the team clocks that run on Earth time, Lance knows that it’s almost his nineteenth birthday.

Yeah, he’s gonna go with the homesickness.

Unfortunately for him, the aliens they visit have two distinct qualities that, in any other circumstance, Lance would find cool; the ability to sense emotions, and the complete inability to keep secrets. That extends to their allies, as well.

He probably would have continued thinking those were pretty amazing skills –until the aliens sense negative emotions between the Paladins, and demand that to secure an alliance, the team must heal the dissent brewing in the fine cracks between each other thanks to the secrets they’re keeping, no matter how trivial.

Yeah. Homesickness probably wasn’t the right way to go.

okay, full disclaimer, this series isnt finished and i doubt it ever will be. HOWEVER. this fic is, and this fic is fucking stellar. magical realism has always been a fave of mine, and of course add vld and klance to that and ill always go feral. if you want to see amazing mcclain family backstory and tension so thick you could gnaw on it, swallow the L and read this fic you’ll only be a litle devastated that you won’t see how the series ends

4. Bruises by @admiralcanthackett

Lance is cornered by a Galra, cut off from the rest of his team. When he hears their disparaging comments, instead of asking for help when he can, he hides how hurt he is. He doesn't want them to think he's anymore useless than he already is.

you can tell that the author was mad when fae wrote this and honestly? yeah. yeah, sometimes u just have to be mad. sometimes thinks go to shit and its everyone’s fault and your pain becomes physical and you just have to grit your teeth and tell everyone to go fuck themselves. thats what lance goes thru here

5. Hybrid by @admiralcanthackett

Lance overhears one of the aliens insulting Keith after a successful mission and loses his temper.

yes another admiral fic but let me live i have always been obsessed with these fics and there are just so MANY of them okay. there will be more. but i like this one bc who doesn tlike protective lance??? who doesnt like keith realising that he’s worthy of being defended??? like cmon now

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#i mean the authors are still a little varied #ive done hundreds of these ive def had quite a few okay #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #team as family #bamf lance #witch lance #langst #fic rec #fic rec friday

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ghostsvacuumcleaner · 11 months

Text

Shades of Red - Chapter II | 4k

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three ao3 | masterlist ✦ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x civilian f! reader ✦ Summary: The sole survivor of a terrorist attack that killed over a hundred. The soldier responsible for saving her. He wants to help you, but his own trauma make him withdraw when he wants to get closer and intoxicate when he wants to remedy. He kisses your scars and hopes you’ll runaway. He wants you to run away. But you won’t. ✦ TW: NSFW, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, canon typical violence, mentions of abuse and trauma/PTSD, bit of gore, mental illness mentions, slowburn;

✦ Chapter TW: slightly obsessive behavior hehe.., just a hint yet; mentions of trauma and violence

A/N: Dropping chapter two because I'm excited to start the real deal of this story! Also, chapter three might take a little while to come out cause I'm working on a request I received; hope y'all enjoy! If anyone's interested in getting into a tagslist just lemme know!

Chapter 02 - Survivor

The hospital room you were in was pleasantly cozy. A large bed in the center, a considerably large television right in front of it and the big window to the left, whose blinds were closed for the time being. There were a few empty chairs next to the bed - you were sure that at some point in the last hours, someone was sitting there, as there was a small vase of flowers resting on one of the chairs. Although you could not see the world out there, you knew it was raining by the sound of the raindrops hitting the window; the sound echoed through your ears in an almost hypnotic intonation as you dissociated.

Your daydreaming was abruptly cut off when someone opened the door to your room. A lady, a nurse, whose name tag said Doris. You shook your head and quickly looked in her direction, your eyes no longer as confusing as before, but equally expressive.

“You’re awake, finally.” She pointed, as she approached her bed with some caution. “You’ve been sleeping for at least fifteen hours since you came here. I was starting to worry,” she said, sounding somewhat caring.

You raised your eyebrows briefly.

“Fifteen hours? Fuck my life…” You whispered, and her face turned into a little grimace in response.

“Language, lady.” she joked, as her hands caringly wrapped your nearest arm and began to remove the tapes that covered your venous access. “How are you feeling?” She asked in a murmur. “I don’t expect you to say ‘well,’ for God’s sake.” she pleaded.

“Well, I’m not feeling any pain at least.” you said. For the first time in those twenty-four hours in which you were silent, your mouth bitter in the metallic taste of blood and the horrible feeling of a cake in your throat, you began to speak. There was still a lot you wish you could say, but felt like you might never get to do it. You could never take the weight you felt on your back, the unsaid words, the pain that grew restless in your mind.

“That 's good. Means the medication is working; you hurt yourself pretty bad let me say,” she commented, still trying to sound as caring as possible. The care that emanated from her made you feel a little better, you had to admit. “but you will be fine. Can you move your leg?” She finally asked, finishing by skillfully exchanging your access without causing further pain.

You looked into your legs, and felt that bitter taste invading your mouth again. Fuck. You didn’t stop to think about it: that wound on your leg, previously partially buried by concrete, was well, very extensive.

After breathing deeply, you concentrated your energies into the hurt leg. Your face shrugged in a strenuous expression, you were giving your best; your leg began to tremble and the rest of your body too, by the effort. It was as if that concrete block was still there, preventing its movement, causing you to suffer in stuckness.

“It’s okay, you can stop now.” she said, but you were negative and shaken your head with all the strength you could, small tears forming on your red face as you tried to move.

“No. I can do it.” you grumbled between your teeths and closed your eyes.

“Dear, no-” she tried to say, but nothing seemed to be able to change your mind right now.

A little move was all you got, and then the relief. Your breath accelerated, exasperated and relieved by victory, but still concerned by the fact that all you could achieve was almost equivalent to a spasm. Doris sighed.

“Why can’t I move straight?” You asked, your eyes ran into hers with some despair and impatience. "Will I lose my leg’s movements? Will I need to amputate?” You asked anxiously.

“God, girl. No!” She assured you, striking with her head and placing a new tape on your arm. Doris then walked to the end of your bed. “No one will amputate anything. Just see, well,” she started, and pulled the blankets that covered you from the waist down.

Your expression relaxed, perplexed as you looked at the scarring on your leg. Almost like a crack, in your thigh — it started near your hip, and went up to almost half your thigh in a diagonal angle. It was a red, ugly wound, a crack in your now imperfected shell. It was sewn with the help of so many stitches that you could barely count. “you hit a nerve. It didn’t break, of course, or could barely move this leg, but it hurt and badly. It will take some time for you to recover from it. But you will.” she said.

“It’s horrible,” you whispered, your eyebrows scratched in a sad expression. “I’m horrible.”

Doris looked at you, to the tears that formed in your tired eyes. Her lips were compressed in a line.

“Oh, dear... You’d never be awful, don’t say that,” she whispered. “A scar won’t make you any less beautiful. Got it? It’s your survival mark.” she said, trying to encourage you a little.

You wanted to curse her. You felt angry at the kindness she offered you, for trying to make everything seem less heavy than it really was, but it didn’t seem fair. You knew that this should be some reaction of your mind poisoned by the depression you felt now.

It would not be fair to discount your frustrations on the only person who had offered you some comfort so far, would it?

No.

Your face formed a smile so weak that maybe it only made her more worried than she was already, but that was all you could do for now. Doris covered you again, fitting the blankets around your body in a very comfortable way.

“I’ll bring your lunch. You’ll need to eat enough to get some energy for your recovery now.” she commented quietly by changing the IV from the support over you. Your eyes followed the whole process attentively.

Although you were grateful for the treatment you were receiving from the hospital, there was only one thing surrounding your mind. The Ghost.

The man in the skull mask who had saved your life. He was nowhere to be seen, you knew that you might possibly never see him again, but the idea that you didn’t even have time to thank him correctly tormented your mind. He was in your dreams while you were unconscious, standing there looking at you, glaring at you with those dark eyes of his. The curiosity of what was hidden behind the mask was hitting you hard this time, the need to see something human in him; the way his eyes seemed to present him as nothing but a machine. He seemed unbeatable, but when he took you in his arms, gently as he could be, like he was holding porcelain - you could only see a human being. And you wanted to see it, you craved for confirmation, that there was a human beneath the mask and that this human was just the way you pictured him to be. Or perhaps the complete opposite. You liked surprises, and fairly - you just wanted to see him.

“Where are the soldiers? You know, those who took me out of the building.” You curiously asked, cleaning your throat. The nurse's eyes wandered around the room in search of the small window that turned out to the hallway, she could not see anyone there, a confirmation that they might have been there before but not anymore at the moment. “I didn’t have time to thank him.” you whispered.

“Ah yes. Of course. Captain Price said he would call you when you were feeling a little better. Do you want me to give them a call?” Doris asked kindly.

“Yes, please,” you agreed.

━ ⟡ ━

Soap was watching the news on TV in the town hall of the headquarters. His eyes were attentive, his ears well opened; he heard the television reciting for the thirteenth time that day those words that echoed in his mind, "hundred and two dead." The news anchor was saying something about the intelligence’s inability to detect the terrorist threat before the bombing occurred. Massive criticism of the military staff responsible for national security; people were in panic. How would you feel safe after that?

After the 141 left the building back to the headquarters, the British intelligence team searched the ruins of the disaster looking for any indication of association of some terrorist group known to the incident. At first, nothing. Bombers usually leave no traces but a blast of blood and human flesh everywhere.

But then, an agent left the building with a piece of semi-destructed cloth in his hands. It was almost incomprehensible but soon they discovered a symbol in it. And to the most absolute disappointment of all, no soul even recognized the symbol in question. A new terrorist group.

Fuck.

While the population was hiding in fear, the press was rendering a disgrace to society and introducing even more chaos by spreading information that should be confidential. Soap was too distracted with their babbling to even listen to Price and Ghost’s conversation in the background.

“She will need physiotherapy, and a good time to recover.” said the captain, releasing some smoke from his cigarette into the air. “She apparently suffered a nerve injury.”

Ghost had his arms crossed, resting on the wall behind himself, facing Price. His eyes were fixed on the ground, as if he was thinking of something.

“I can imagine.” he whispered, with a head nod. “I hope it goes well. What these guys did there...” he closed his eyes and snorted, seeming nervous.

“Yeah... The press won’t give anyone no peace now. I get nervous just to think.” he grumbled as he threw his cigarette butt into the ashes. Ghost only shook his head negatively, in disapproval; in accordance with the captain’s speech.

The silence that followed Price’s last words did not last more than five seconds before he spoke again.

“She asked about you.” he said, raising his eyes to Ghost. He was looking back at him this time. It was as if his words had caught his attention now. “Said she wanted to thank you personally.”

“She doesn’t need to. I just did my job.” he argued, pulling his back off the wall and pulling one of the available chairs around. As he sat down, he grabbed a piece of a disassembled rifle that rested on the table, and went on with his work to clean it.

“I know that, but work sometimes involves accepting a bit of gratitude from other people for what you did for them, Riley. In this situation specifically.” Price raised his eyebrows, and watched the gun as Ghost cleaned it, his concentration quickly diverted from the conversation to the work he was doing. “You should go see her.”

“With all due respect, captain, I think the job of talking to the victims is anyone else's but mine.” he replied almost instantly.

“Maybe, maybe. But she wants to talk to you.” Price insisted.

Ghost released an annoyed, almost annoyed breath.

“She doesn’t have to thank me. I know she’s grateful,” he tried to argue again, but the captain seemed irreducible for the moment. “Bloody hell, Price, hire a psychologist for once. She needs help, not to talk to me.” he continued, receiving nothing but silence in response.

“She wants you.” Price said, simply, unfazed by his upset behavior.

Ghost immediately stopped what he was doing and left the gun aside, the hand

supported on his knee, once again an uncomfortable breathing leaving his nostrils in a surely irritated mood now.

They would not understand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you; there would be no reason for it, no. Ghost didn’t want to see you again. He followed the whole moment the ambulance left you in the hospital along with the rest of his crew, was informed of your situation, and like all other soldiers, he was discharged after that.

His job was to rescue the victims who survived the attack. Not to talk to a victim, sketch some sort of feeling – even if it is false. He would need to say something, comfort you, or at least try to look positive. He would have to face the idea that getting in touch with your trauma could remind him some more of himself, could bring back past memories he wanted to bury. There was no good in it, no. He wasn’t a therapist, wasn’t built for it.

Although he wanted to, he couldn’t feel compassion for you. He couldn’t feel sorry – He thought it was an extremely illegitimating, invalid feeling. Affirming that someone was worthy of pity was almost like treating someone like garbage, no; he would rather die than have others pitying him, why would it be different with the people around him? He wasn’t the right person for that.

As if the universe laughed at his face, the moment the conversation between the two became silent and he raised his eyes to the television, the image of the building's debris was replaced by one of the only survivor of the attack; a recent photo you had taken in London, two months ago. You were smiling, you could still do that at that time. The screen displayed your name, while the reporter was now talking about you.

“It’s her; poor girl.” Soap said, turning a little to observe them, and turned up the volume. The news said something about your success in keeping yourself alive: you were treated as a great achievement, called a ‘miracle girl'; they were talking about you as a poor little girl, about how clever you were, in college studying to become a prestigious doctor. Ghost squeezed his jaw, his teeth gritted in a bitter taste inside his mouth. There was no miracle in what happened to you.

You were lucky. You were in the right place, at the right time.

Two hundred people did not have the same luck.

A hundred and two people, men, women and children, were now dead. You had eternal marks engraved on your skin and soul. A miracle? He felt offended as if he were with himself — as if they were calling him a miracle for having survived all the painful events he had experienced so far.

“How dare they say this kind of thing?” he grumbled lowly. The other two shrugged their heads in denial, in disagreement.

“Fucking vultures.” it was Price’s turn to complain.

━ ⟡ ━

You had turned off the TV the moment you heard your own name. There was no reason you’d want to know, to to hear what they had to say about you. You didn’t want to hear them treat you as a mere victim of an incident, acting as if that disaster was all about you that mattered. You hated the way everything seemed to be reduced to that now: the attack.

The survivor. The only survivor. Your name didn’t matter anymore – you had become a martyr, and everyone treated you with caution, as if you were made of glass, as though it was impossible to get close to you without the risk of breaking it.

Since the silence established itself in the environment when you turned off the TV, all you heard was the static silence floating in the air, sound of little drops that flowed through your veins. Your mind had become vague, your thoughts made room for your imagination, you slowly fell asleep. There was a long time after you felt unconscious - you weren’t sure of how much exactly. Maybe two, maybe three hours. You had asked Doris to open the window before she let you rest alone in your room, and the wind was hitting your skin, still sensitive due to the excess of meds; the subtle cold you were feeling was making you feel alive.

The lights were off, and as soon as it became dark, the lights of the city reflecting through the window were no longer enough to light up the room belongings.

In that intense darkness and in the most absolute silence possible, the ghost that haunted your dreams was standing, tall as always, at the end of your bed. Haunting you. Silent like a snake approaching a possible victim, even his breath seemed to be controlled enough not to make a noise. His eyes, behind the mask, fixed on you; you slept quietly in a heavy sleep that was obviously the result of the strong medicines you were taking. He approached the bed a little, your hand was laying in your body side by the bed. So small.

Drop.

The sound of the drops of IV falling through the bag invaded the environment as if it were the sounds of a giant walking. The big night silence had this effect on small sounds – it enlarged them. You heard the sound of the window closing inside your dreams, but that didn’t seem to wake you up. The cold wind no longer hit your skin, and you began to warm up.

How long has passed since the sound of the curtains closed you could not say; but what awakened you knew: it was the sounds of the door opening. You instinctively frightened and adjusted your posture in bed a bit abruptly, until you realized that the man who was entering — now unarmed though still dressed in his combat suit — was him. The Ghost.

He watched you in silence for a few seconds before shaking his head.

“Did I wake you?” He asked, the same serious and rough voice, the loaded British accent, different from your American one. “Forgive me.”

“You’re all right.” was all you could think of answering in the first moments. His eyes looked at you altogether; he was so tall that only his presence there made you feel intimidated, even if that was not his goal. “Don’t you want to sit?”

“I don’t intend to delay myself much.” He responded quickly, getting a little closer to the bed and sitting on one of the chairs next to him just to match your heights a little, imagining it should be uncomfortable for you, bending your neck to look at him standing. “Do you need something?”

“No. I’m fine now,” you whispered, sitting down. “I just wanted to thank you personally. I didn’t have time before, I- I just don’t think I was in good senses for it.” you admitted, holding your hands together on your lap.

“I just did my job.” he nodded, a serious air to his words. Ghost seemed like a man of few words, of few feelings too. His tone was monotone, always serious, seemingly stern sometimes. Made you feel like it was perhaps due to his habit of giving orders; he was a tenant, as Price told you. You knew little about the military hierarchy you had to admit, but the little knowledge was enough for you to know he did give orders.

“I know, but... What you call ‘job’, to me was saving my life.” you seemed to try to remind him as if it was something obvious. “If I have any way to reward you for that, please tell me.”

Ghost closed his eyes for a moment and stretched his neck, shooking negatively.

“Again, I just did my job. You don’t have to reward me for that.” he said, looking at the flower vase that rested on the headboard table for a moment.

Simon noted that although there were thousands of gifts and tickets on the outside, sent by ordinary citizens in support of your situation - there were no balloons or any indication of a family or friendly gift inside your room. Only those flowers.

They were addressed to Anthony Miller. He assumed it would be your boyfriend.

“You don’t get it, Ghost. It’s not about needing, it’s just something I want to do. It doesn’t have to be right now, you can tell me in the future if you need a favor or something like that.”

“I don’t usually need favors.” he assured, snorting at your insistence, but trying to stay as polite and friendly as possible. He didn’t want to end up making you worse, did he? You were already sad enough.

“Everyone needs favors. I also used to not need many before yesterday’s events.” You admitted, raising your eyebrows quickly and turning your gaze away.

“I didn’t do you a favor. I helped you, those are completely different things.” He shook negatively, irreducibly. “Any other decent soldier would do the same. You owe me nothing.”

“Yes, but it was you. If it had been someone else then I’d like to thank this person.” you argued, and your stubbornness began to irritate him; he gave in compassion to your state and only sighed deeply.

“That’s all you have to treat with me, miss?” He asked, turning his head a little, and you corrected him; do not call me lady, you murmured, and instructed him to call you by your name.

You watched him in silence for a few seconds, before breathing deeply.

“Actually no. I have a request.” you said, in a whisper, and he shrugged his head as if giving you a positive one. “Can I see the face behind your mask?” You asked curiously.

“Negative.” He answered, almost immediately, without even giving you a chance to try to refute or argue. “I can’t show my face, and if it relieves you if anything, it’s not a nice image to look at,” he continued, rising up.

You were a little desperate for his sudden rising, hoping he would stay a little longer. Of all those people with whom you had talked so far — Price, Doris; he remained the one who seemed to please you into a conversation the most. You wanted to talk to him, because, unlike others, Ghost did not treat you like a porcelain doll.

He was treating you like any other person.

“No, wait — you think you’re ugly, is that so? I don’t care.” you assured. “I doubt you’re ugly, to be honest.”

“I didn’t say that,” he raised an eyebrow, seeming to have your commentary somewhat amusing. You raised an eyebrow in response and laid your body on the pillows behind you.

“Wouldn’t you open an exception for me?” You asked, and he shook negatively. You closed your eyes, in a frustrated but accepting sigh.

“Well- you get well soon. Hear me, girl?” Ghost gently said, and walked a little further to the door, and stopped in his steps before leaving. He looked at you for a moment. “Are you here alone?”

“Yeah, I am. Why is it?” You asked curiously.

“Because your IV is running out, and without those pain meds, let me tell you...” he raised his eyebrows quickly. “Should I call your boyfriend or a nurse?” He asked, glaring at you.

“Wait- my boyfriend?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows for a moment, and he remained silent. His hand stood up and pointed to the flowers next to the bed, as if he mentioned that the person who sent them should be your boyfriend. You eyed the flowers and let out a soft laugh.

“Ah, that... No, it’s not from a boyfriend.” You explained.

“Well, I’ll call some nurse then.” he said, his hand leaned on the door knocker and his fingers danced in unison, in a thoughtful expression. He looked at you again. “Stay safe.” he said, before his huge, broad figure disappeared through the door and the long hallway of the hospital leaving you once again lost to your thoughts, and alone.

Your eyes looked at your own hands for a few seconds, and you realized that they were pleasantly warm. You looked out the window, closed.

How strange was the fact that you didn’t remember having closed the window, thought to yourself.

It could have been Doris. But your intuition said no.

#simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #ghost cod #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #shades of red

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thisfanisgonesorry · 10 months

Note

hi if you're still taking requests, I can't get the idea of arthur somehow being in the epilogue, alive and thriving, working on the ranch with john and his family and just being happy

IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!! omg thanks for the req <3 i hope u enjoy it cutiepie, sorry it took me a lil bit

ending cowrote by @megbimbo loml

tags: yall are in the epilogue, making this an xreader since im basically useless if i dont but its light so dw, canon deviation obviously, high honor arthur. very angsty because my little gremlin brain could not just make him healthy but HE IS HAPPY!! MY BOY IS A HAPPY CAMPER!!; i usually write 1st person but i got possessed so heres a 2nd person fic (never doing this again, sorry if its shit), genderneutral but implied fem reader. milking the cows was the most pleasurable part of the epilogue after the absolute shitshow i had to endure that was chapter 6. arthur milks the cows for that exact reason. some medical terms i know that probably werent viable to use back in the day but idc. some cowboy stuff i learnt as a wee lass when i had a horsey. so many tags ill shut up now. (i got sad at the end of the fic because i realised you cant kiss him. that made me sad.) also water pump distance ref because its.. not as close as i thought it was.

♡

You and Abigail tended the house while Arthur and John were outside, doing god knows what, their manly chores. Jack and Uncle had a day trip to Blackwater, running errands and such, getting groceries, the works. Jack needed to get out of the house and Uncle needed to get out of doing work.

“I’ve got this.” Abigail spoke, taking the plate from your hands. A brisk nod and you wandered off outside to check on the boys, mostly worried for Arthurs wellbeing, as you tended to be. As the years dragged on, the remaining gang had been accustomed to not treat Arthur like he was fragile, which often than not, resulted in him being injured or overworked in some capacity or another.

You knew well enough that John would take care of Arthur and not work him to exhaustion, especially in this blazing heat, but nursing him back to health after things went south all that time ago wasn’t an easy job, and when they were building the house, he had a pretty bad flare up.

There was a slight sound of wheezing coming from the distance, your ears perked slightly, rushing down the main steps and looking around. You could vaguely see them over by the water pump in the distance.

Arthur was sitting on the ground, John hovering over him, rubbing his back slowly as Arthur coughed and spluttered. You rushed over to them, evidently worried.

“What happened?”

John looked over to you, softly speaking. “He pushed himself too hard.”

“Yeah.” He spluttered. “I’ll be fine.”

You kneeled beside Arthur, rubbing his back as John pulled away to fill the bucket with water to continue their water run, also so Arthur could take a handful and drink some, hopefully hydrating his throat enough to stop him from tearing his oesophagus.

Water Runs; They were dreaded, the water buckets would get heavy, and in heat like this, you’d need to do the runs multiple times a day to keep the animals hydrated. It got worse if the water troughs were under direct sunlight, the amount depended on the day, the weather and the animals, but the horses needed the extra water this summer, as did the sheep and the cows. All around, it was an awful chore.

Arthur, being the horse lover he is, would be quite adamant in keeping the horses up during the heat, making sure they’re okay. Though, because of the humid air, it was causing his illness to worsen. He slurped up a handful of water, and his coughing let up slightly.

“You need to rest.” You spoke firmly, as John picked up the bucket and walked it over to the remaining troughs, walking over into the sheep pen so he could keep a keen eye on Arthur momentarily.

“I know, I know.” He groaned. “John and I have a lot of things to do.”

“This is John’s ranch, not yours. Sit down for a bit.”

“But the horses—”

“But nothing. You can care for them later this evening.”

Your voice hung in the air sternly and he pouted like a child, he needed to sit down and rest, to be removed from the hot and muggy air. Once the blazing sun begins to set and the air begins to cool, he would be allowed to go back to his duties.

John waddled back over with the bucket, filling it up but lingering before he delivered it to the other animals. “Don’t worry, Arthur. I can do this on my own.”

“I want to help.” He spoke sternly, trying to stand up but weakly clutching his chest as he required the aid of you and John to get to his feet.

“How many other chores have you got today?”

John took the conversation away from Arthur, now more than just on board with the concept of letting him sit down and rest for a while. “Just the water, feeding, and milking the cows.”

“I can milk the cows.” Arthur objected.

You sighed, looking over at him, knowing he would rather keel over than be useless. He was a helper; for as long as he’s been known by any of the people on this ranch, he’s always been willing to help people. His need to work died down drastically since he’d been adopted to live on the ranch, but that didn’t mean the lack of drive didn’t eat away at him.

John raised his hands in a defeated shrug. “Let him milk the cows.”

“Fine, but I’m keeping a close eye on him.”

“That’s probably for the best.” John shrugged, with his shoulders this time, grunting as he picked up the bucket, continuing the water run.

Arthur had a horrendous side eye on him, though he restrained the urge to say something snarky, “I can do this on my own.” He spoke instead, as he began to stride his way to the barn.

“I know.” You responded, following behind him.

He seemed upset at the sudden switch of attitude, even after all this time, he wasn’t used to people treating him like he was sick. For the most part, people didn’t, but, for equal parts, he didn’t often tell people that he was sick, instead playing to be super cautious whenever around anyone new.

He took a seat on the stool beside the cow and you stood behind him, leaning against the pillar.

“I’m fine.” He reassured as he slowly milked the cow, the metal panging sound of the bucket being hit with liquid filled the barns silence.

“I know.” You repeated quietly, not really paying attention to the words leaving your mouth. “Jus’ making sure you’re okay, we’re bein’ careful, ‘s all.”

“I don’t need it.”

“I know you want to act like you’re okay, but you’re not. You’ve had a few close calls. We’re just trying to keep you...” You trailed off, not wanting to say the blunt words that weighed heavy. We’re trying to keep you alive.

He stayed silent as John slowly opened the barn doors, entering almost silently and taking the milk pail as it filled to the top.

“I’ll deal with this.” He said briefly, leaving us quietly to continue our discussion.

Arthur stayed painfully silent as your words lingered heavily in the air, John was quick to disappear into his jobs, and Arthur stayed on the stool, petting the cow softly.

“I get it.” He spoke after a long pause of silence. “I’m sorry, I just...” He rotated his hands in a motion to gesture the continuation of his sentence, not really wanting to finish it himself.

“Just come inside for a bit.”

He sighed in defeat, standing up from the cow and patting her softly as he removed himself from her side. He really suited this life, and it’s a darn shame that he can’t do too much with it.

He walked inside slowly, dragging his feet.

“Don’t get sulky.”

Uncle and Jack returned from Blackwater, pulling up in the wagon. Abigail had left the house to greet them and assist them while John did god-knows-what, something or other to do with the milk.

Jack and Uncle were having a conversation, or maybe an argument, about something in Blackwater, and they were asking Abigail her opinion as they unpacked the back of the wagon.

Arthur didn’t necessarily expect anyone to understand the struggles he had to deal with, he was dealt a poor hand, and partially, it was his fault. His days were numbered, and despite the unconditional love and support that everyone offered him, it only did so much into elongating that timer. It was a silent rule that we all knew it’d happen, and once it did, we’d most likely all point fingers on who’s to blame.

“Arthur.” Jack called out, grabbing his attention from his dreary thoughts and tossing him a fresh notebook. It lifted his spirits almost immediately. “I noticed your old one was getting full.” He responded plainly.

“Thanks, kid.” He smiled, still very clearly unwell and needing to rest but his mood had been lifted slightly. He walked through the front door quickly, wanting to get through before they’d be rushing things to and from inside the house.

He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a cold glass bottle of water, looking over at you begrudgingly as he sat down on the dining room table and flipped through the soft new pages of the notebook.

“Any idea what you’ll do with it yet?”

He shook his head plainly. “No, I might draw some of the horses. Been a while since I drew Boadicea, or Rachel.” He shrugged. “Could draw Neil if he’d stand still.”

“That’s good.”

“Might go up to Owanjila at some point.”

“You could make a day of it.”

“Yeah, I could.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Can you stop doing that?” You cursed at him, agitated by how he was acting. “Don’t get upset at me over this.”

“I was fine.” He gritted his teeth.

“You were on the ground struggling to breathe.” You bit back, emphasising every word. He didn’t respond, just glancing away from you. He knew you were right, but didn’t want to admit it since it was inherently showing more weakness. “You...” You trailed off briefly.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, interjecting the conversation. “Jus’.. Don’t wanna be useless.”

“You’re not useless, you’re sick.”

“I know but—”

“Don’t you even try to compare yourself to Uncle.” Arthur stayed silent as you hit the nail on the head. “You did enough work today. Relax. Draw, journal, something. You have a few hours until the sun sets.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

“What?” He was beginning to come across as overly defensive, though softened into a defeated sigh as you tried to compromise.

“Abigail gets angry at me, she don’t like how I do the dishes or clean clothes.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll pro’lly try to help with the yard work. You can do more with less hassle.”

“I guess.” He shrugged.

“Weather forecasts think that it might rain sometime this week, means less work here, we can go to Owanjila.” He wasn’t too keen on it being babysat but he accepted it nonetheless.

“That’d be kinda nice...” He trailed off.

“We can do some fishin’ so they don’t think we’re bein lazy.” It was clear who the ‘they’ was in that sentence, which made him laugh in a silent exhale. “You can draw some of the scenery, set up a mini camp and just.. Have a day off. Hows that?”

“But—”

“Stop. You need to stop.”

“I’m bored!” He said, clearly agitated and exhausted. “I need something to do, ‘nd everyone jus’ wants me to rest but I gotta do somethin’ or I feel like shit.”

“I just suggested something.” I said sternly.

He looks around the dining area, chewing the inside of his cheek as he considers the idea. He sucked on his teeth slightly.

“Tch... Fine.” He admitted, like a defeated child.

There’s a long moment of silence, and you reach across the table to hold his hand. He continues to avoid eye contact, and his hand doesn’t hold yours back.

Arthur’s voice is barely above a mumble; so sulky for a man so strong, or so he claims to be. Your eyes flickered between his gaze and him, waiting for him to speak. Arthur, desperate to look literally anywhere else, found himself staring at John’s taxidermied squirrel. If you didn’t know any better, one would probably assume he’s admiring the finest piece of art the 1900s has to offer. He seems to linger on the concept for a while, which worries you. You can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that mind of his.

The silence blares in your ears for a bit too long. Clearing his throat, Arthur looked you in the eyes.

“We’ll see how things go.”

#asks #arthur morgan #fluff #angst #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan angst

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mykidneysbuddy · 27 days

Note

The only people in the Tangled fandom that make newcomers feel uncomfortable are hardcore OTP Varigo shippers.

You guys spread hatred and scare people away.

Also, Varian and the Seven Kingdoms is an AU even the creators no longer want to have anything to do with anymore.

Varigo is the only thing shoved into people's face.

disrespectfully you are an idiot lol

vat7k isnt an au. it was a spin off show that they planned out completely and planned to make but when they showed it to disney, disney didnt think making a show about a side character would be the right idea.

no one is uncomfortable by the varigo ship. no one who ships varigo shoves it in peoples faces. you might not like it and thats totally fine with me, dont ship it, i dont care.

primarily, tts is a show for minors. you acting like your pedo ship is normal and just your run of the mill ship is harmful because some stupid minor out there (like you) might see it and see how normalized it is by mentally ill psychopaths like you, and they'll think ships like that are okay, even irl. god i hope you don't believe ships like this are okay irl too.

the only ship that deserves the reaction of "uncomfortable" is cass and varian, or varian and rapunzel, or varian and eugene, or ANY CHILD SHIPPED WITH AN ADULT.

it's disgusting. it's harmful. its illegal. and you need severe help for thinking so strongly (and positively) about this ship.

pretty sure varian and hugo are the same age in vat7k, 18 i believe? might be wrong.

thats a ship between two consenting adults. a ship that (and its not like this matters) was canon and supposed to happen at the end of the show. varian x hugo might not be a good ship, or a ship that "deserves attention" but its not an UNCOMFORTABLE ship, or a DISGUSTING ship, or a TOXIC ship, like cass and varian is.

#cassandra tts #varian tts #hugo tts #hugo vat7k #varian vat7k #varigo vat7k #varigo

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