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squintyeyedjoel · 1 month

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Through Your Eyes | Part 2 - More than Meets the Eye (Joel x Reader)

A/N: IT’S FINALLY FUCKING HERE!!!! I’m so sorry it took so long! I’ve been sitting on this for almost a year and it’s just been evolving and marinating and improving, and I hope it lives up to the hype. It’s time for it to be set free. ✨ This is truly a hybrid of game and show Joel. I see them both, hence both gifs.

I do not own The Last of Us or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Oooo, this one’s a doozy. So many things. (Let me know if I miss anything.) 😮‍💨 Some original characters, mentions of an elderly family member passing, lots of canon violence and swearing, (this one is a big one. Like a lot. There’s a hefty amount of swearing.) mention of attempted sexual assault (not to reader) without detail, graphic description of injury (not to reader) and blood, attempted abduction? Reader is a badass and sports a black eye and bloody knuckles with pride. Panic attack? But Joel scares it away. 😌 We round it all out with obscene amounts of fluff and humor between it all, sweet moments, and just soft things. It’s me. I can’t not. No use of Y/N.

Word count: 11,928

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for reading over this five bazillion times for me and fangirling over it when I was having my down moments. You’re a real one.

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Xxx

You rocked in the saddle of your horse as she slowly followed behind the first few people in the group.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Over.

And over.

Some quicker footfalls to your left made you turn your head, seeing Joel atop his horse come alongside you before slowing his steed back to the slow crawl the rest had fallen into.

“You okay?” He mumbled. “Look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you groused, turning back to face forward with a yawn.

He huffed out a laugh before shaking his head at you almost imperceptibly, nudging his horse to go a little faster toward the front of the group.

Watching him with narrowed brows, you saw everyone else make sure to steer clear of him, giving him a wide berth and a clear path to the front. Tommy’s words from that first day rang in your head.

“You saw a side of Joel right out the gate some wait a lifetime to miss.”

Joel whistled loudly, gathering everyone’s attention, as the whole party came to a stop. “Alright! Listen up!” Some grumbles began to go around, but stopped with one crook of his brow. “That’s an awful lot of yappin’ for people suppose t’be listenin’.”

If a pin had dropped in the grass underfoot, it would have echoed in the vast forest around you. Even nature seemed to heed his warning, only a few stray birds chirping somewhere in the distance brave enough to break the silence. A lone frog echoed in a nearby creek bed. A few bugs buzzed by, trying to ease the tension, and it seemed to work, because finally Joel went on after staring at everybody.

“We need to pick up the pace. This isn’t a leisurely walk to the park and back. We have a goal we need to get to, and back, and we got one week to do it.”

“Who made you the boss?” Some poor brave soul asked from behind you. A young man, maybe in his mid twenties from how he sounded. You didn’t dare turn to look at him, not wanting to move your eyes from Joel, because if looks could kill…. Joel would currently be facing a serious charge for the way he was glowering at the faceless voice behind you.

“Common sense.” A few small laughs went around the group, the corner of Joel��s mouth twitching up just slightly when he saw you shake your head with a smirk. “This was my run- our run,” he pointed to you then back to himself before retaking the reins to his horse, “and the council thought it best you all tag along to bring the most back we could. Now I don’t mind-”

“Yes, you do,” another voice behind you said, female, almost teasingly, making another round of soft laughter go around.

“Fine. I mind. A lot. But we’re here now. So, since you’re tagging along on our run, what we say goes. Agreed?” When no one protested, he gestured you up to the front with a tilt of his head, going on while you nudged your horse forward.

“Now, we need to move faster. Any bandits or infected we pass by would pick us off like flies at this pace. The cart will be the slowest, I want the four of you to stay with the cart at all times and watch all four sides.” He pointed to four individuals who nodded, moving toward the cart pulled by a single horse and rider.

“The three of you pull up the rear.” More pointing and nodding. “The rest of you, in the middle. Keep your eyes open. Everyone keep at a steady pace, we camp at sundown wherever that is. Don’t push your horses too far.” He began to turn his own mount to move forward. “Not their fault we’re a bunch of dumbasses.”

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard him say at once,” you heard someone mutter behind you, making you smile.

“At once? Try ever,” another retorted.

Joel looked over at you. “What? Why you grinnin’?”

“They respect you.”

He scoffed. “That so hard to believe?”

“It’s a side of you I’ve not seen before. I’m used to bad puns and screwdrivers, not….” You made a swooping gesture to the group behind you, “that.”

He shook his head once, tisking at you. “Shows what you know. I’m actually partly in charge of security around Jackson.”

Your eyes widened as you turned as much as your saddle would allow to look at him, the leather creaking against the movement. “Really?”

He nodded once in confirmation, a proud smile starting up his face. “Only a part time type’f thing, and it’s purely on a trial basis right now, but…. Yeah.” He grinned brightly at you. “The jokin’ and woodworkin’ are just for fun.” The smile turned somewhat dopey and lopsided.

“There’s more to you than meets the eye, Joel Miller.” He rolled his eyes at you, the grin melting into a scoff and his signature sour expression with impressive speed. Though his eyes still shone brightly, giving away his true amusement. “And I’m gonna try to see it all.”

Shaking his head at you again, Joel looked back forward, nudging his horse to go a bit faster and pull ahead of you. “Nah. Not that deep, darlin’.”

Urging your mount forward, you maneuvered to your right, and fell in beside him with a grin. “That’s what you think.”

Joel tilted his head down and to the side toward you as he spoke for emphasis, keeping his eyes forward. “That’s what I know.” He cut his gaze to you briefly after a moment to try and drive his point home before straightening back up in his saddle, his eyes going studiously back to the wide expanse of land ahead.

Your grin melted into a smirk, seemingly a new permanent fixture since moving to Jackson. Or more specifically, since moving in with Joel and Ellie. That thought made the side of your mouth tick even higher. “We’ll see.”

Xxx

In the chaos of starting up a new life in Jackson, you’d overlooked one little detail. While you could repair and paint just about anything on your own, you were shit at stitching any stuffed toys back together Joel happened on during runs. It was possible, but it was slow going, and to be honest, looked a bit like field dressings for a battle wound instead of repairs.

You’d thrown the last attempt of an old wrinkled teddy bear at Joel when he’d called it Sargent Cuddles, Ellie only adding to the confirmation when she asked if you could make an eyepatch for the bear instead to cover the deep scar you’d given it by way of cross stitches.

Halfway through that first week, you’d walked into the town’s seamstress with the best smelling cinnamon loaf the bakery had to offer, fresh and steaming, under your arm. When the girl behind the counter stopped what she was doing, setting down the socks she was darning while her nose went high in the air like a bloodhound as she took a deep sniff with her eyes glassed over, you grinned.

Target acquired.

“Can I help you?” Her voice was soft and kind, and her smile as she rose to her feet from the chair helped settle any trepidation you felt about reaching out.

People hadn’t always been kind about your hobby, for one reason or another, hence why you came with bribes at the ready. But you had a feeling this time would be different. You smirked as she nonchalantly eyed the loaf under your arm.

“Hi! Yeah! I’m the one who restores the toys? I opened up in the old bookstore down the street?” You introduced yourself, and recognition went off behind her eyes at the sound of your name.

“Oh! Joel’s girl!”

Your breath caught in your chest as your head gave a little shake of confusion at the declaration. “What?”

She chuckled somewhat nervously. “No! No, not like that, I mean…. His neighbor. His new lodger. The one in the attic.” She was talking a mile a minute. “Not his ‘his’ girl….” She slapped a palm to her forehead, cradling her head in her hand as she rocked it back and forth before pulling back just enough to look at you conspiratorially. “But can you imagine?”

After a moment of silence where you both simply stared at each other, soft laughter took over, melting the tension between you.

“Let me start over,” she huffed, lowering her hand from her face to extend it to you in greeting. “I’m Jane. Nice to meet you.”

As you shook her hand, you couldn’t help but smile at her antics. “Likewise.”

Jane turned her attention back down to the socks she had abandoned when you came in, fiddling with them absently before she looked back up at you, a soft tint of embarrassment staining her cheeks. “So, what brings you here?”

“Oh! Right.” Setting the loaf on the counter, you shrugged the backpack off your shoulder and set it down beside the bread, fishing out the few stuffed animals Joel had brought back that needed the most help. “I was hoping we could work out a deal. I can do some basic stitching, but even then, Joel and Ellie have compared my work to that of a field medic more than anything.”

Jane snickered at the comment as she took one of the worn stuffed animals, turning it over in her hands and analyzing it as you continued.

“People trade me all sorts of goods for these, like this loaf.” You gestured to it with a bob of your head, then placed your hand on the still steaming bread. “The baker’s son has a birthday coming up, and she wanted something special. Joel and Tommy don’t always bring back stuffed animals so it wouldn’t be constant work, but I was hoping when they do, I could bring them here, and we could work out some sort of trade system for the repairs-”

“No need,” Jane said, smiling down at the stuffed tiger in her hands. You arched a brow at her, waiting for her to go on, and she finally tore her gaze away from the toy and up to you. “I had one just like this as a kid. Loved it to bits. It looked like it had been through the wars before I lost it, patches everywhere and stuffing missing so it was lumpy…. I learned to sew on that thing.” Jane looked back at the toy again fondly. “I’ll help you. All I ask is that I get to keep this one, and maybe one every few runs if they happen to stumble on any others like I used to have. I…. I had a collection.”

When she brought her gaze back up to meet yours, her eyes were misty. “It was small, but it was everything to me. Got a new one every year when I was little from my grandparents. Stopped when I hit that certain age where adults deem you too old for those things. Which was fine.” She sniffed, a tear falling silently down her cheek. “Then my grandpa he…. He started having memory issues.” She took a deep, shaky breath, smiling sadly at the toy. “Regressed a certain amount of years…. Just so happened to be when I was a certain age, still, in his mind, and he got me a stuffed toy every year for my birthday, until….”

You reached out, placing your hand over hers. “Keep whatever you want. You don’t even have to do repairs to keep them.” She began to protest, swiping at her tears with the back of the hand still holding the tiger when you squeezed her other hand gently. “The whole reason I’m doing this in the first place is to help bring some joy back into the world. And I want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy, without me lording something over you like demanding a trade in exchange-”

Jane flipped her hand in your grip, squeezing you like you had her. “And doing this will make me happy.” You studied her for a long moment. “Do you know how boring it is to darn a sock?” You snorted a laugh, and she smiled. “Everybody in this damn town needs to take better care of their socks, I swear…. I’m up to my eyeballs in them. Nothing would make me happier than to work on something that would be giving back more to the community than dumb stinky, holey, wool.”

With a nod, you gave her hand still in your grip one firm shake, a grin crawling up your face. “It’s a deal. I’ll try to tackle the easy ones and send the few in need of more love your way. But!” You let go of her hand and held up a finger, wagging it like you were lecturing a petulant child. “I’m also dropping some of these goods by, too.” Patting the bread on the counter before softly pushing it closer toward her, you laughed at her show stopping grin and good-natured roll of her eyes in response.

“Fine,” she mumbled around the smile, the sound anything but angry. “If you insist.”

A few days later, you’d dropped a few stuffed animals off to her that Joel had stumbled on during patrol, Ellie tagging along with you. She had opted to stay outside the shop while you went in though, leaning against the doorframe by the front window, taking in the sights and sounds of the city street.

“Not a fan of needles,” she mumbled, glancing into the shop as you opened the door to go in.

“This isn’t that kind of needle.”

“I said what I said.”

You didn’t press her on it, just nodded and mumbled an ‘okay’ before disappearing into the shop.

“Hey!” Jane greeted you, pushing aside her current project immediately to make room for the box you were carrying. “Oh, these are cute!” She picked one up in each hand, lifting them up to look at them better before trading them out for another and repeating the process until each patient had been analyzed. “They’ll be easy.” She turned to you with a smile. “I’ll be done by this weekend.”

“No rush!” You assured her as she set the box behind the counter. “If you’re not done until then, you’ll have to leave them with Tommy, though. I’m going out of town with Joel on a run, it’ll take a few days, maybe a week max. We leave tomorrow. Though, no, actually, you can just leave them with Ellie, what am I saying-”

“You’re doing what?” She interrupted you.

Focusing back on her face, you tried to get back on topic. “What? Oh, yeah! We’re going back to where I lived right before Jackson to get the stores of paints and stuff I had. Bucket loads of it, no pun intended.” You turned to look at Ellie over your shoulder. “She’s rubbing off on me in more ways than one, I guess….”

“Is it just you and Joel?”

Her question caught you off guard, pulling your gaze back to her with knit brows. “It was going to be, but the council decided it was a ‘waste of resources’, so we have to take a little group with us. Why?”

“I’m coming with you.” No hesitation, just straight to the point.

Your eyes went wide. “What? Why?”

“You said you lived about a week north, right? Near the university?”

“Yeah. Because of the university, there were storage units nearby, used to be climate controlled before everything, now they’re just enclosed spaces with extra security to keep clickers n’ shit out. I lived in one, worked in another, and stored in a third. Got pretty good at picking locks, too.” You smirked.

Her eyes were wide and serious. “The ones by the north end of campus?”

Your expression went flat. “Don’t tell me….”

“I lived in an abandoned place on the south end of campus.” She had started to grin like a Cheshire Cat. “We probably were within spittin’ distance of each other and didn’t even know it.”

A laugh barked out of your chest, several more tumbling out after it until you were bent over her counter on your elbows, wheezing. Pushing up to rest on your forearms you met her gaze again, amusement on both your faces. “No fucking way.”

“I left a sewing machine behind. It was there when I moved in, and I hope it’s still there and still works, heaven knows, but…. The buildings by the school had power when the Fireflies were there. I’d use it when I could, and I was able to do so much more work. Now that I’m here I could actually make use of it with all that I have on my plate, and the dam giving us electricity….” She sighed dreamily. “I’m going. That’s final.”

Before you could respond, the bell over the door jingled, making you stand up straight and turn to look at the newcomer.

“Everything okay?” Ellie’s voice was soft as she poked her head in, causing you to do a double take. “I heard raised voices.”

You nodded once. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re all good. Just excited. Turns out we lived right by each other before moving here.”

“Oh shit! No way!” She stood up straight with a wide grin, stepping fully into the shop and letting the door close behind her.

“Language,” you scowled.

“Sorry, Miss Fanny,” she looked sheepish, spinning on her heel dramatically before exiting the shop.

You turned back to Jane who looked on amused. “She thinks she’s funny because I use a fanny pack.” Plopping onto a tall stool that sat in front of the counter, you stared at your friend.

Jane let out a low ‘ah’ as if she now understood everything.

Knitting your brows before arching one, you leaned on one elbow on the counter. “What?”

“Why is she outside?” She asked as she fiddled with some projects behind the counter.

“Said she ‘wasn’t a fan of needles’,” you mumbled, air quoting her words as you turned to look back at Ellie through the window. “Whatever that means.”

Jane hummed in understanding, drawing your eyes back to her. “Tommy got really drunk at the bar one night after I first got here. Saying all kinds of shit. People kept walking off because he wouldn’t shut up, so I opted to walk him home to Maria. It wasn’t far, and he’s a good guy. Anyway, on the way to his house, he starts mutterin’ about his brother and his new kid, how they just got back from some failed medical something or other with the Fireflies, most of it was unintelligible.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at Ellie. You followed her gaze, finding the teen walking back and forth in the shade in front of the building, scuffing her heels as she went, and kicking rocks.

“Then, he got real sad, and said somethin’ about how he’d sent them to the university right after seein’ him for the first time in months. It was to get info on where to go for the medical procedure, I guess. Anyway.” She took a deep breath. “Apparently they got ambushed there, and Joel got stabbed real bad, almost didn’t make it. That girl out there had to care for him for weeks, drag him somewhere safe, stitch him up….”

Your breath caught in your chest as she paused for emphasis, unable to tear your eyes from Ellie as emotion swelled in your gut for your fellow housemates, but especially the tiny redhead on the other side of the glass.

“Tommy was real broken up about it. Said Joel almost died, and he felt like it was his fault. Ellie had to hunt, and somehow got Joel medicine.”

You turned to face Jane again. “How?”

“Those details weren’t real clear.” She shrugged. “Like I said, he was plastered. Maybe this whole story is some drunken imagining, but the way he sounded compared to all the shit he said in the bar?” Her face melted into something between sadness and understanding. “I’m inclined to believe him.”

She took a hesitant breath, but stopped before letting it out slowly, then closed her eyes for a moment. After another shallow breath, she opened them to focus on you, and tried again, her voice even softer still.

“We’d made it to his house by this point. Maria had come out and was helping me to get him inside, up the porch steps…. And he just broke down halfway up. Sat down, broke down, and started sobbing. Made it even harder to understand.” She rolled her eyes and you chuckled softly. “He said something about the medicine came at too high a cost. That Ellie paid…. Would be paying….” Jane swallowed roughly, looking to the girl through the window with something akin to admiration, then back at you. “He said it changed her.”

“Changed?” You could only whisper.

“Broke her. He said whatever happened was enough to take a spitfire, and make her an ember.” You both looked back at the teen one last time. “She’s improved a lot. I’ve seen her grow, come out of her shell just since I’ve been here, but…. It’s her eyes. They’re haunted. Whatever happened out there…. It didn’t stay out there. And it ain’t leavin’ anytime soon.”

“That explains a lot. About both of them,” you mused quietly.

“Joel I don’t know much about. He’s just the town grump.”

Despite the dark turn the conversation had taken, you burst out laughing, seeing Ellie turn toward the window at the sound with a grin.

“Everyone keeps telling me that, even him, but I just don’t see it!”

Jane’s face turned up in amusement softly. “Well, maybe you’re just one of the lucky ones like Ellie, and he likes you.”

“I think he tolerates me.” You looked across your shoulder at her, getting back to your feet from the stool you’d been perched on and faced her fully. “I live in his house. It’d be awkward if we hated each other.”

“True,” she grinned smugly.

“What?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Xxx

Jane came riding up beside you, smiling wider than the canyon you’d passed a few miles back.

“I’m gonna regret askin’ but what in the hell has you happier than a butterfly on a daisy?”

“That’s not a real saying,” Jane mumbled, looking at you through skeptical, knit brows.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not applicable,” you countered, your own brows arched high in challenge.

With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, Jane circled back to the topic at hand. “We’re out in the open!” She whispered, excitement lacing her tone. “I love Jackson, don’t get me wrong, but it’s so nice to be able to breathe.”

A smirk made its way up your face. “I know what you mean. Problem is you trade security for a great wide unknown. The possibilities of things that can go wrong out here are much scarier than anything in Jackson.”

She pulled a face. “Nothin’s gonna go wrong when we have a man like Joel leading us. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Most of the time,” you mumbled. “The rest he’s just wingin’ it.”

“Heard that,” Joel grumbled as he passed by your other side, pulling in front of you from the back of the group where he was making rounds. “You’re one to talk.” He looked over his shoulder at you, face stoic as ever, but his eyes showed his amusement.

“I know things,” you shot back, head tilted back to look down your nose at him. “Lots of stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” his tone was condescending, but playful. “Stuff.”

“And things.”

“Oh, we mustn't forget the things….”

“Yeah, okay.” You looked to the side with an unamused grin. “Fuck you, Joel.”

“I mean, if you’re offerin’….”

Your jaw dropped as your head turned slowly to face him, eyes wide as you simply stared at him in shock.

He smirked. “What? You can dish it, but you can’t take it?” Joel’s tone was nothing but teasing, his eyes dancing with unspoken amusement.

Narrowing your eyes at him, his smile faltered slightly. “You have no idea what I can take.” Nudging your horse forward to fall into step beside him, you held his gaze with your head high, brow arched. “And I don’t think you want to find out.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“When I push back. You wouldn’t be able to handle it, Joel.”

He cleared his throat. “Look, I was just messing around. This wasn’t supposed to take such a serious turn. I’m sor-”

You couldn’t take it anymore. The laugh tumbled out of your mouth before you could catch it, more and more coming out to join it.

Joel lowered his brows, glaring at you. “That ain’t funny.”

Wheezing, you pointed at him. “You should have seen your face!”

A horse trotting up beside you made you turn, expecting to see Jane once again at your side, but all you were met with was her horse, sans rider. You thought quickly enough to grab the reins and guide it along with you, before you looked back at Joel, finding his eyes already searching the group. Turning, you tried to sit higher in your saddle for a better vantage point, when movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

Near the tree line, Jane struggled in the arms of a man as he yanked her back towards the cover of the woods, none too delicately, one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

“Jane!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, and you could see when she heard you, her body going rigid in her captor's hold.

The man yelped, pulling his hand back from her mouth and shaking it.

She must have bit him.

Before you could fully process much of anything else, Jane was screaming at the top of her lungs, “Run!”

The hand was back over her mouth before she could say anything else, the raider pulling them both back until they disappeared into the trees, Jane putting up a violent struggle as they went.

Not willing to look away from where she disappeared, you called out for Joel, and he was beside you in an instant. His horse picked up on the sudden unease spreading over the group, shifting its weight from foot to foot restlessly.

“We’ll get her, darlin’,” Joel reassured in a low voice. “Don’t you worry. We ain’t-”

Suddenly the entire group was surrounded by raiders, guns and knives of various sizes pointed towards every member of your party, violent threats being traded back and forth from both sides.

While you had thought your group was large, this bandit raid made your numbers pale in comparison. At least double your head count at first glance, easily. And you had a feeling more were lurking in the shadows somewhere, if what had happened to Jane was any indication.

You noticed that while several of the men aimed menacing looking rifles at your party, they lacked the magazines full of ammunition to back them up. Leaning toward Joel as subtly as you could when they ordered everyone to dismount their horses, you mumbled under your breath, “They have no bullets.”

He looked at you in confusion for just a moment, brows knit until one of the raiders yelled loudly and pulled his attention away.

Falling in behind him, you whispered again, “Their rifles. They have no ammunition. No magazines. It’s all for show.” You saw the moment the information registered for him, his shoulders setting a bit broader, and his head held just that much higher.

A raider a few feet to your right was eyeing you skeptically, looking like he might dismount his horse any second and make a move toward you, so you pretended to trip into the back of Joel, smirking into his chest when he caught you.

Without missing a beat, his arm firmly around your shoulders to steady you, Joel went straight for negotiations, trying to talk the men down, offering supplies, whatever they wanted. You weren’t far from Jackson, it was a smart move. You could get back and recoup your losses in no time. But people? You can’t replace them.

“Nah,” the head honcho said with a sarcastic sneer. “We’ve got somethin’ else’n mind.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

The raider in charge gestured Joel over to a smaller group of his men, which he obeyed reluctantly. After looking down at you for a moment, offering the most subtle nod you’d ever seen a person give, he began to move toward the small group of raiders.

The boss stopped him just short of the rest and asked him a question in a low voice, which Joel answered softly, shooting you a look which you couldn’t quite read. You couldn’t quite make out what he said, either, but then the head raider decided to make a scene, show who was in charge, and it all made sense.

In a loud voice, full of bravado and misplaced charisma, the raider turned back to your group with arms spread wide, rifle held lazily in one hand, and called for Joel’s second in command - Will - to hop down and join his ‘fearless leader’.

Surrounded by the smaller group of thugs, you could tell what the goal was…. They meant to make a spectacle for the rest of you. Take the leaders down, the rest will follow. But Joel didn’t let them get that far. He mumbled something to Will so subtly, you almost missed it, but you saw the younger man’s eyes dart to one of the raider’s guns, and you immediately knew where this was headed.

It all went by in a blur, and yet it was like you could see every detail in painful accuracy. And you couldn’t look away.

In an instant Joel had dropped three of the men in the smaller group surrounding them.

Will another two.

They both had commandeered their own rifles back off of those men, and they were now aimed at the remaining two raiders around their small group.

The one in front of Joel began to move forward, only making Joel smirk as he jerked the bolt action on the rifle. “Try it.” The raider stopped, making Joel’s smirk only rise higher up his cheek. “Good choice.”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

It was almost like someone kicked a pile of ants. The stillness of the valley you were in was broken and everyone swarmed at once. A cacophony of sounds clashing all around you.

You went on autopilot for most of it, simply fighting for your life and that of those in your group. It could have been hours or only minutes later, but the next time you really started to pay attention, or frankly, were able to focus on any one thing in particular, you saw a raider sneaking up on Will a few paces in front of you, and you lifted the rifle you’d snagged off of one of the men you’d taken down.

“Hey, bucko!” The raider froze and turned to you with a sneer, the expression falling off his face when he came nose to nose with the muzzle of your rifle. You cocked the bolt action just for added effect, chambering a bullet as you somehow had found the one locked and loaded gun the raiders had. Hands lifted in surrender, he slowly took a resigned step backwards, grip tightening around the knife still clutched in his right hand. “Drop it,” you ordered, narrowing your eyes at his slight smirk. “Nice and easy, now.”

Will turned to see what the fuss was, his eyes going wide when he realized what had happened. He looked between you and the raider from over the bandit’s shoulder, raising a brow at you in question, but you motioned him on with a jerk of your head to the left, keeping the rifle braced on your right shoulder and aimed at the raider. “I got it. Go help the others.”

Nodding, Will took off toward the remaining chaos, leaving you with the scumbag at the end of your barrel. He started to move after Will but you tisked, taking a step closer. “Not a good idea.” The lowlife hissed through his teeth in aggravation, but you cut him off before he could even start in on an actual sentence. “Knife. Ground. Now.” With a half step forward for emphasis, you gestured toward the field underfoot with your rifle before centering your sights back on their target.

The man arched his back away from you as you took the small step closer, his hands shooting up higher beside his head. He then began to slowly lower to his haunches to lay the blade on the grass, his other hand still held up in surrender. His eyes flitted from the weapon to something behind you, and before he could set it all the way down, or you could turn to look, an arm wrapped around your neck, cutting off your air supply.

Both the man behind you and the man in front of you laughed, cheering at your misfortune as you dropped your rifle, the weight of the weapon jerking its strap across your shoulders as it fell to your side.

You clawed at the arm wrapped around your neck, gasping for air, and grunting as you tried to get a shot in with your elbow, but he pinned down your arms with his other arm wrapping around your torso.

A voice close to your ear leered, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’ll all be over soon.”

The raider in front of you suddenly started screaming, dropping the blade in his hand in order to clutch his knee, blood pouring violently from a wound made by a large pocket knife you’d know anywhere protruding from its side.

“Don’t move!”

All three sets of eyes pulled over to find Joel standing just a few feet away, rifle raised and aimed at the raider now in a heap on the ground. His gun swung over to the man still holding you hostage, a dark chuckle rippling out through the chest pressed closely to your spine at the movement, and it made your skin crawl.

“Let ‘er go,” Joel said in a low voice, something dark and menacing thrown right back at the thief trying to steal your life away.

“Nah,” the man said after a minute, amusement heavy in his tone. “We’re just havin’ too much fun, aren’t we, sweetheart?” He tightened his grip around your neck as he pulled you closer, squishing his cheek to yours in mock affection.

You mumbled something as best you could, but it came out all garbled from the pressure on your windpipe.

“Aw, I’m sorry, I’m bein’ mean, aren’t I?” His tone was mocking. He loosened his grip slightly, the arm around your midsection disappearing altogether as he twisted slightly to get a better view of your face. “Now, try that again?”

“I said,” your voice was hoarse from the struggle, so you cleared your throat, shifting your weight slightly as you looked to Joel with wide eyes in mock fear. “I said-” In one smooth motion, you swung the butt of your rifle up and back, and slammed the man in the face, squinting when blood sprayed out of his mouth and onto your cheek.

Taking the opportunity, you elbowed him in the ribs, before stomping on his foot, spinning around once his arm around your neck released you and kneeing him in the crotch.

Stepping closer to him once he fell to his knees cradling his damaged manhood, you looked down at him as you wiped his blood from your cheek with the back of your sleeve. “I said fuck you.”

With a quick jerk of your knee to his face, the raider fell backwards, out cold. You turned to face his friend who laid in a ball on the ground, hands gripped tightly around the knife still protruding from his knee.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He began to try and scramble back, looking to Joel for some sort of help as you approached.

Joel only shrugged, looking at you with wide eyes for just a moment before turning back to the poor man. “Hell hath no fury ‘n all that….”

Kneeling in front of the man, you smiled disarmingly sweet. Reaching out to grip the knife, you looked up at Joel. “This yours?” Lifting a brow at your rhetorical question, you knew very well it was his, he nodded. With a yank, you pulled it out of the man’s leg, his screams cut short when you elbowed him in the face, knocking him out like his companion.

Lifting your rifle slightly, Joel began to make a fuss, “Darlin’, they’re down-” but he stopped when you over exaggeratedly clicked on the safety, lifting a sarcastic brow at him. Rising to your feet, you wiped the blade off on your jeans before closing it and handing it back to Joel.

He took it cautiously, watching as you rubbed at your throat with a wince. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you. If you hadn’t shown up and distracted them, I wouldn’t have been able to get the jump on ‘em.”

He looked at the two men before looking back at you, his eyes flitting down to the rifle for the briefest of moments. “Looks like you would’ve been just fine.”

You leaned in closer to him, adjusting the weapon’s strap across your chest. “Take the compliment, Joel.”

He grinned softly. “Yes ma’am, Miss Fanny.”

You groaned at the nickname. “You know what? I don’t even really mind.”

It looked like Joel wanted to say more, but other members of your group came running up, looking around frantically only to find all the enemies already taken care of.

“We didn’t hear any shots,” Will said absently, staring at the two motionless forms on the ground after a wary glance. “Thought you might need some help.” After a long moment of silence, he looked from you, to Joel, then the raiders. “They still alive?” He pointed toward the men, one of them stirring with a pained moan.

“Only just,” Joel mumbled, watching the one man begin to roll to his side, the one who had held on to you, before his gaze flicked to the other, noticing his breaths becoming shallower and shallower. Gesturing to the latter with his rifle still held in his hands, he looked back up at Will. “That one’s not longed for this world if you don’t get something to stop the bleedin’. Need information from both, preferably.”

Will nodded, motioning to the others with a nod of his head, quickly moving toward the raiders.

You had turned toward Joel, your back to the men when a twisted voice rose up behind you, slurring around laughter as if it knew the funniest joke in all the world.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m just so goddamn sorry things didn’t work out ‘tween us.”

Joel glared at the raider over your shoulder. “Stop talking, asshole,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he took a step closer to the man, slightly in front of you. Turning to face the man yourself, you thought you’d steeled yourself for whatever you’d see, but the twisted smirk you were met with made your stomach drop.

Laughter turned to wheezing, wet coughs before the man spit off to the side in front of him, blood painting the ground an ugly, violent color. He lifted his head just enough to look at you again, snickering as he peered through his lashes. “I had such plans for you….”

“I said be quiet,” Joel’s voice had grown more firm, and he opted to step to the side, obscuring your view of the creep instead of taking any steps closer.

“Oh, but they were nothin’ compared to what we were gonna do to that little friend of yours…. That blonde? Whoo! She was feisty!”

“Can somebody shut him the fuck up!” Joel bellowed, turning to the group simply standing by and watching the exchange.

Will shrugged off his outer layer flannel, balling it up as he stomped toward the man and began to shove it in his mouth.

The man weaseled back away from the cloth, shouting with wild eyes, “You’ll never find her!” His following laughter was muffled around the material, manic and unhinged.

“Will, I need you to….” Joel trailed off when you put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to the side gently. He tried to stop you walking towards the lunatic, but you met his gaze with your own, unwavering, and he let you go, following close behind, one hand adjusting his grip on his rifle as he held it loosely just in case.

Kneeling down in front of the man, you got close to his face. “What did you do with Jane?” Your voice was so low and quiet, you barely recognized it.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The man mumbled around the shirt, eyes wild and sure of himself.

Looking down toward the ground, you huffed out an unamused laugh. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” you lifted your gaze to look at him straight on again, “and you’re going to tell me, or else my friends are going to be not so nice to you.” The man scoffed. “What did you do…. with Jane?”

The man leaned forward, his nose almost touching yours. “Go fuck yourself, bitch.”

Without hesitation, you slammed Joel’s pocket knife you’d swiped from his jacket a moment ago into the man’s hand where it rested on the ground with your left hand, yanking the shirt out of his mouth as he screamed with your right, and tackled him backwards onto the ground, pinning your right forearm against his throat. As he struggled against your hold, you twisted the knife still gripped tightly in your hand, making him settle into the dirt.

“Okay! Okay! Okay! Fuck! Just stop!” He looked at Joel with wide, wild eyes. “Get the bitch off me!”

You noticed some of your party moving toward you, but they stopped with a hand motion from Joel.

He studied you with an unreadable expression before looking back at the man and jutting his chin toward you. “Tell her what she wants t’know.”

“Get her off me first!”

“Talk!” You growled, digging your arm in further, making him gasp. When he turned a defiant look up your way, your knee ‘slipped’ where you straddled him and landed dangerously close to his ego once again.

“Okay, okay, goddamn!” He wheezed, collapsing fully into the ground below him, eyes fluttering shut as his face twisted in pain.

It was all you could do to repress the triumphant smirk wanting to crawl up your face, your brows arching in amusement instead.

“She’s back at our camp. ‘Least that’s where we left her. Don’t know how she’d move much after what boss did, though.” He looked back up at you again, everything about his expression amused, and nothing seemed to dull it, even as you pressed your arm harder into his throat, only causing his words to take on a sinister hiss. “He stuck her good. You think this little knife is somethin’, you should see the one he used on-” his words trailed off on a gurgled chuckle as you continued to lean into him.

“Hey,” Joel’s calm voice near your ear made you pause, staring down at the creep. “We need him alive, darlin’. Stop.” A warm strong hand gripping your upper arm firmly made you lift off the man just slightly, glaring down at him as he sucked in a breath and started coughing, grinning up at you triumphantly. He hissed with a wince when you yanked out the knife, bringing the hand close to his chest to hold it tight with his other, and wrapped it haphazardly with the flannel Will had shoved in his mouth to stop the bleeding.

“You Jacksoner’s are all the same,” he shook his head in amusement. “Bleeding hearts, all of ya!” He grinned up at the group in the most sinister way you’d ever seen. “And that is why you’re all gonna burn.”

At that, Joel was yanking you off the raider and pulling him up to a seated position with both hands twisted into his jacket, getting right into his face with the most menacing voice you’d heard yet. “What did you just say?”

The man just smiled a tight lipped smile, eyebrows shooting up before he used his good hand to pantomime locking his mouth and tossing away the key.

“They had a bunch of dead guns. No ammunition. How in the hell were they planning to do something to Jackson?” You mused offhandedly, mostly talking to yourself.

“Guns ain’t the only way to make somebody bleed,” the freak singsonged, looking at you gleefully.

You glared at him. “I liked you better out cold.”

He guffawed. “I liked you better up close….”

Joel gave the man a forceful shake by the front of his shirt still in his grip. “What’d I say?” The man rolled his head back to Joel with a bored look, his lips twitching up just slightly. “Y’either start talkin’ ‘bout somethin’ important I want t’hear about, or I’ll reach my hand so far down your Goddamn-”

“This one’s not doing well, Joel,” one of the party mentioned, checking the pulse of the other raider. “We need to get them back to camp.”

The man in Joel’s grip slowly melted into a wide grin. “Looks like you need me now more than ever.”

Joel began to smirk, and it made the raider’s sure grin falter. “Yeah, but that can change real quick.” He shoved the man back, rising to his full height before turning back toward you and walking quickly. A hand closing around your arm once again, you followed where it led.

“Get them to camp. Will, get a party of four together and come with us to go get Jane. The rest of these assholes are dead, there’s no one to keep her there anymore. She probably tried to run, and if she’s injured, we need to spread out and cover as much ground as possible.”

He stopped, looking over his shoulder when no one was moving. “Let’s go!”

When he turned to look down at you, you saw something in his eyes close to fear. “We’ll find her, Joel.”

He held your gaze as he kept moving you further away from the scene. “I know, darlin’.” He looked forward again, walking a bit faster. “I know. Now let’s get goin’. Sun’s gonna be settin’ real soon.”

Xxx

As the two of you made your way in the direction the thug had sent you in, your mind began to wander.

“What if it’s the wrong direction, Joel?”

“He said go east-”

“No, I know.” You closed your eyes briefly as you took in a sharp breath through your nose before looking forward once again. “But what if he lied?”

Joel sighed, looking down at his feet as he continued to walk. “Darlin’,” he looked deep in thought but also at a loss for words at the same time. It was such an inextricably Joel thing to do, it almost pulled a smile up one side of your face.

Almost.

Glancing over his shoulder toward the small group that was following along to help, the rest staying behind with the two assholes, he then took a step closer to you, speaking in a low voice.

“He very well may’ve.” When your eyes went wide, Joel was quick to continue on. “But,” he smiled at your now narrowed glare. “I’ve been patrolling these hills for a few years, now. Never out this far, mind you, but I know the general area. There’s a stream that runs not far from here. Anyone with any brains would camp near it. I know the worlds gone t’shit, but I refuse to believe we as a species have fallen that far that fast.”

His smile spread a little further at your soft chuckle.

“Touché, Miller. Touché.”

Grinning like a child, Joel turned back to the rest of the group, his expression turning stony in an instant. “The rest of you, fan out!” His voice was a low hiss. “Keep quiet and keep aware. These trees are dense from here on out to the creek. Keep a lookout. I’m not responsible for your own stupidity.”

Good-natured eye rolls went around as the few people spread into the trees starting to populate the clearing you’d been passing through.

Joel grabbed your arm when you went to take a step forward. “Not you.” He shook his head gently when you looked up at him. “You’re coming with me.”

“I’ll stay within sight,” you argued, pulling your arm from his grip. “I’m not a child, Joel.”

“No, you don’t-”

“I can take care of myself.” Taking a few steps forward into the tree line, you looked for any signs of life, but before you could get far, Joel’s voice was at your ear again.

“Don’t-”

He yanked you back into him, making you stumble into his chest. Lifting your head up to glare at him, you came nearly nose to nose as he looked down at you and you looked up at him. Your breath stopped, catching in your chest as your eyes scanned his face.

“Tripwire,” he mumbled, his eyes firmly watching your lips as they moved soundlessly in shock.

“Thanks,” you finally managed, closing your mouth and clearing your throat.

Joel nodded.

You went to take a step back, looking over your shoulder towards the trap, but his grip on your upper arm wouldn’t let you move.

Turning back to look at him in question, your curious expression melted when you found him even closer than before, his eyes cast down as his nose lightly bumped the side of yours.

The distance continued to close, only a breath left between you when a faint scuffle then a thud was heard, making you both pull apart like lightning.

Turning, the two of you saw Will suspended upside down by his ankle from a nearby tree.

“Careful. Tripwire,” you grinned.

Will smirked sardonically, arms coming to cross over his chest after batting away his flannel outer layer that hung in his face since he was inverted - he’d dug out a spare from his bag after using his original to shove into the mouth of the crazy raider. “We found a blood trail.”

The smile fell off your face as your gut sank. “That’s-”

“A good thing,” Will cut you off. “Means she was moving. She was alive.” After a loaded moment of shared looks, he cleared his throat. “Can someone cut me down, please? I’m getting woozy.”

Xxx

You only encountered a few stragglers at the camp, Joel earning some bloody knuckles and you a black eye, but the remaining members of the bandit group lay in lifeless heaps at the feet of your group when it was all said and done. There was no chance for prisoners, they weren’t going to be taken alive.

Which meant that one idiot back at the camp who’d tried to kill you had to stay alive if you wanted any answers.

The thought of that made you start to hyperventilate.

Which wasn’t like you.

You took everything in stride, this new world required it, but suddenly you felt his arm around your neck again, and you began to claw at the phantom limb, gasping for air as tears began to stream silently down your face.

You couldn’t look anywhere without seeing a body, violence, bloodshed….

Can’t breathe….

Everything blurred by as you faintly registered your feet moving you forward, a warm hand around your forearm pulling you gently along before the firm press of tree bark met your back with a gentle thump.

The soft trace of rough, callused fingers making their way past your cheeks to rest behind your ears drew a shiver from your bones. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re good. It’s over. I’m here.” Joel’s mumbled words vibrated somewhere in front of you, desperately grasping at you to give you something to hold onto. Cradling your face in his hands, Joel stood toe to toe with you. He took a small step closer and leaned down, pressing his forehead to your own as you fought for air. “Nothing’s gonna get you. I won’t let it.”

The phantom touch of that asshole’s arm around your throat still constricted your airway, threatening to make the world cave in.

Joel reached up to gently grab your hands still frantically clawing at your throat, placing them on either side of his ribcage, and you clutched onto his flannel under his jacket for dear life. The warmth from his body heat radiated into your palms and sent a wave of something down to your toes. Worrying the threadbare fabric between your fingers mindlessly, Joel seemed to notice and step even closer still, enough that a deep enough breath would close the distance.

Though, as you thought about it, how he still had room to maneuver any further into you was a mystery, you didn’t even know it was possible. It seemed like every part of you was wrapped up in every part of him.

His voice drew your thoughts back to the present. “Hey, hey. Shhhh…. No more. He’s gone.” Did his voice just crack? “It’s over.” His voice grew a little firmer, if not quieter. “It’s over.”

If only he knew, you weren’t struggling to breathe because of the remnants of a panic attack anymore. No, now it was his proximity. His warm breath fanning across your face as he mumbled words of peace. The press of his skin against yours as he cradled your face so gingerly.

Time stopped, the world ceased its spinning, and suddenly all that was left was this right here between the two of you. This quiet moment, in the middle of a forest, painted in violence and hope, in fear and tenacity, in…. Vibrant shades of both of you.

Will walked up around the tree quietly, clearing his throat softly. “Some of these men were dead long before we got here.”

“Jane,” you smiled.

“That girl sure is a spit fire,” Joel remarked with his own grin, pulling away from you just slightly, but still keeping you in his hold.

Turning to Will, you steeled your shoulders. “Take me to the blood trail.”

Xxx

It took all of ten minutes of tracking to find Jane leaning against a tree with her back to you, heaving breaths as the right side of her shirt was stained crimson. The violent splotch was spreading, whatever wound obviously still angry and weeping under her white shirt, her outer layer long gone and forgotten in the chaos by now.

“Jane?” You called out softly from several yards back. A twig snapped under foot, causing a flock of birds in the trees above to startle and take flight in a whir of wings and wind.

She whirled around, knife held out in front of her at the ready, eyes wide and wild from the adrenaline. When she realized who it was, relief washed over her features so strongly it brought tears to your eyes. She dropped the blade to the ground with a clatter and slumped the side of her shoulder against the tree with a huff.

“Took you long enough,” she breathed in amusement, turning so her back was to the tree with her head thrown back, her face toward the sky, wincing in pain.

Before you could even make a move towards her, Will was there helping her back to her feet, scooping her up bridal style and carrying her back towards camp, her head on his shoulder as she went limp, finally able to rest.

Will glanced back when no one else moved. “Come on!” He whisper shouted. “She needs help as soon as possible, or I’m going to-” He caught himself. “We’re going to lose her.”

As the group moved in unison behind a speedwalking Will, you glanced up at Joel in amusement. “Do you think he knows?”

Joel shook his head with a grin. “Everyone else does, so no, probably not.”

You chuckled, despite the situation. It was probably the relief that she was alive finally catching up with you. “That girl’s got his number.”

Huffing a laugh, Joel looked at the back of Will’s head as he rapidly disappeared at the front of the group. “Wrapped around her little finger like those little things she uses to protect herself when she sews back at her shop. Oh, what’re they called?”

You stared at him for a long moment before quietly suggesting in hesitation, “Thimbles?”

Joel slapped his thigh before pointing at you with a renewed grin. “That’s the one!”

With a shake of your head, you turned back to face forward and head up toward the front with your friends. “Ellie was right. You’re losing it, old man.”

“Ain’t old,” he grumbled, his face instantly turning sour. “Jus‘ ‘xperienced.”

“Then you should know all the words, Joel.” You smirked. “No excuses.”

“I do know all the words,” he groused. “That’s the problem. I know too much, my brain can’t keep up.”

You turned to face him, walking backwards. “Sure. That’s the problem.”

“I know things,” he shot back, echoing your words from earlier, his head tilted back to look down his nose at you in a mirror image as he continued to mock your earlier statement. “Lots of stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” your tone was condescending, but playful as you mimicked him right back. “Stuff.”

“And things.” He was trying so hard not to smile.

You were not, letting the grin spread broadly across your face. “Oh, we mustn't forget the things….”

“Yeah, okay.” Joel looked to the side to try and hide his amused grin. “Fuck you, darlin’.”

“I mean, if you’re offerin’….”

His head snapped back to look at you in surprise as you threw his words right back at him yet again. Joel opened his mouth to refute, but you cut him off with a grin.

“I’m going to go make sure he doesn’t promise her his house or something. Boy would give her half of Jackson if he could.”

“He can have your half, you jackass,” Joel grumbled playfully as you turned back to face the front of the group. “Mine ain’t for sale. Don’t care how pretty you are.”

You glanced over your shoulder, fluttering your lashes ridiculously. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I meant her,” Joel gestured to your friends with his rifle still loosely gripped in his hands, strap slung over his shoulders, at the ready just in case, like always. “Ain’t nothin’ pretty ‘bout what you just said.”

“I only spoke the truth.”

“You’re only makin’ it worse.”

Xxx

The sun was setting by the time Joel was able to pry you away from Jane. You hadn’t wanted to leave her side as Will took it upon himself to treat and dress her wound.

You held her hand as she grunted in pain while he disinfected the area with a bottle of alcohol someone had brought, then stitched it up. Luckily the blade had missed anything vital, and hadn’t been rusty, thank goodness.

So far this whole trip had been getting by by the skin of your teeth, and that didn’t bode well with you.

Once she fell asleep, Joel coaxed you over to a clearing not too far away for a breath. A bucket full of water from the nearby stream had been brought to wash the blood off your hands.

Staring down at the water as it turned pink under your touch, tinged with the blood of your friend, you looked up when a shadow crossed over the little bit of sunlight left in the day.

Joel stood just in front of the dying light, backlit and a silhouette as he extended a…. rock? to you.

“That creek is fed from the mountains. Snow melt. Coldest thing around. Best alternative to ice we’ve got right now.” You narrowed your brows at him, making him sigh in frustration. “For your eye,” he said as if it were obvious.

“Oh,” you said dumbly and took it, lightly resting it against your left eyebrow where you felt the worst of the black eye forming. The cool, smooth stone instantly offered some relief for an ache you hadn’t even realized you had, making you groan softly, and shut your eyes with a grateful sigh. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” The side of his mouth twitched up as he lowered himself to the ground beside you with a quiet groan. “T’ain’t nothin’.”

Pulling the stone away to examine it for a moment, you arched a brow when Joel slowly pressed it back to your head. “Don’t work if you don’t keep it there, darlin’.”

“Really?” You said as sarcastically as you could muster.

“Huh-uh,” he confirmed with a gentle shake of his head, keeping the stone pressed firmly to your skin. “It’s not a comfort by osmosis thing.”

“No healing by proxy?” You groused, despite the smile working its way up your face, your one good eye squinting from the held back laughter you were just managing to reign in as you looked up at him.

The corner of his mouth lifted so high a dimple creased his cheek. “Now wouldn’t that be somethin’,” he mused softly.

The two of you sat in comfortable quiet for a long moment, his hand still holding the rock to your head gently until you finally decided it was time to break the silence.

“So what’s the plan from here, Mr. partially-in-charge-of-security?”

Joel’s hand fell from you with a sigh as he shook his head slightly in disbelief, his gaze turned forward as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you after an attempt at a joke that bad. “I’ve been goin’ over it in my head since we left their camp-”

“That must’ve been painful,” you muttered, grinning innocently when he cut his eyes over to you.

They shut briefly with another loaded sigh before they fluttered open and he turned to look at the forest on his right while he continued. “Best I can come up with-” he held a finger up in front of your face without a glance back your way. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

You stared at his finger inches from your nose. “I wasn’t-” You totally were.

The finger began to wag as his head rolled back to level you with a look. “Now, we both know that’s a lie, darlin’.” You shrank under his continued stare and he went on. “Best I can think of is to send the majority back home since we’re still so close to Jackson. Have them protect Jane and those two raiders we got to interrogate.” His arms were propped up on his bent knees, and his fist clenched at the mention of the thugs.

After he stared off vacantly for a moment, he brought his gaze back onto you. “That means the cart is going to have to go back with them, though. Jane’s in no condition to walk, and you did a number on asshole number one.” He chuckled.

“Don’t even worry about the cart,” you waved him off. “Jane is more important. What about asshole number two?” Rubbing your throat absently with the hand not holding the rock to your head, you stared into the trees straight ahead before you realized what you were doing and lowered your hand, turning your gaze back to Joel. “He can still walk just fine.” You tilted your head in thought for a moment. “May be a little bit more of a waddle, but….”

Joel chuckled darkly, hanging his head as his shoulders shook with the laughter. Finally he looked up at you through his lashes, a conniving expression twinkling in his eyes. “Let the little ugly duckling waddle back, then.”

“How will we be sure he doesn’t waddle off?”

“I’ve been known to tie a knot or two in my day.”

As the novelty of the whole situation wore off, you turned to face Joel a bit more fully, letting the hand that held the rock fall from its spot against your face to rest in your lap, ignoring Joel’s scowl in protest.

“You said most of the group. Joel, we should all go back. Safety in numbers. Making sure everyone is safe is more important than my paint-”

“Safety in numbers. Exactly. That’s why most’f’em are goin’ back. We only need a few t’do this run. It also made us a target bein’ such a big group. The council made a shit decision ‘bout that. There’s a reason patrols’re only two people.” He looked out at the woods again. “It was temptin’ to leave it just the two’f us as originally planned, but, after yesterday, even you could see the perks’f havin’ a few extra people should somethin’ happen.”

“Quality not quantity.”

Joel bobbed his head, his eyes shining proudly as you understood. “‘xactly.”

Something wasn’t sitting right. “But what about the threats, Joel? They said somethin’ about Jackson was gonna burn….”

“People say all kinds o’shit when you’ve got a pocket knife in one hand n’your knee pinnin’ their crotch to the dirt.”

You let out a snort, unable to contain your laughter at his blunt explanation. “Can’t say you’re wrong there.”

Joel leaned back with a contented sigh, propping his arm up on his bent leg. “I’m never wrong.”

You let out another snort of laughter, more bubbling up and out when he shot you a glare.

Xxx

That night, just as the sun began to set, Joel slammed the back tailgate of the cart shut after helping Jane up into it.

“You good?” He asked quietly, his voice soft and kind.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Joel.” Jane reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder.

“Not worried ‘bout you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his eyes darting over to the wounded raider sitting as far from him as he could get in the front corner of the cart. The bandit cowered under his stare but stayed silent. “Was more worried ‘bout him.” Joel looked at Jane pointedly as he explained, his head tilted forward while he looked at her through his lashes and arched brows.

“Like I said,” Jane spoke firmly, her voice low and even as she turned to look at the asshole, making him cower even further. “I’ll be fine.”

“Whaddabout me?” The second bandit who had tried to choke you said loudly and amusedly from where he stood behind the cart a few feet away from Joel, his hands bound by one end of rope and the other end tied to the back of the cart. “Do I get a send off from tall, dark and brooding?”

Joel turned to him without even fully looking at the man, cocking his rifle as he spoke on a tired sigh. “That can be arranged.”

The raider guffawed as he stumbled back a few steps, Joel striding forward the ground he lost, while you stepped in between, hands extended.

“Stop. There’s no time for this.” Turning to face Joel, you lowered your arms. “Joel, let the little shit leave.”

The raider’s voice rose behind you like a forgotten tendril of smoke, thin and pungent, just enough to remind you it was there. “Ain’t nothin’ little ‘bout me, darlin’.”

Without a second thought, you whirled around and clocked the thug in the eye, making him stumble back further, the rope stretching to its limit and yanking him forward to his knees.

“Except your brain, apparently.” You shook out your hand to your side, the impact from the punch leaving a searing sting across your knuckles. “You don’t get to call me that.”

“What do I get to call you then?” The man sneered, bringing his bound hands up to swipe at his face.

You took a step closer, smirking, and enjoyed how the amused sparkle in his eyes faltered slightly at the sight. “Whatever you say when you’re begging for your life, tough guy.”

The man swallowed nervously, despite his narrowed eyes of contempt. “I don’t beg for anything. From anyone. ‘specially not you.”

You let your eyes travel up and down the length of him slowly in an unnerving appraisal. “We’ll just see about that. Won’t we, Joel?”

“Lookin’ forward t’hearin’ just how loudly he won’t beg….” Joel mused behind you.

“Fuck. You,” the man hissed.

“No. Thanks,” you sneered back.

Will pulled your attention away as he stepped up on the wheel of the cart to lean in beside Jane, his weight making the whole thing squeak under the pressure. “Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you to keep this asshole in line?” He jerked his head toward the guy tethered at the back.

Jane smiled and patted Will’s cheek lightly. “I think I’ll be just fine. Like I told Joel.” Her eyes flicked between the two of them. Her voice sickly sweet. “Now if you two don’t stop coddling me, one of you is going to be injured and sitting beside me on this trip back to Jackson. So shut,” she looked at Will, “your,” Joel, “piehole.” She looked at you.

You raised your hands in surrender. “Me? “ They turned out in question. “What did I do?!”

She shrugged, her head tilting just slightly. “It was preemptive.” Leaning towards Will again, she kissed him on the cheek, smiling when he began to sputter and turn six shades of red. “Stay with Joel. He needs you here more than he’ll admit.”

“I heard that,” Joel grumbled, walking past the end of the cart as he began to check in with the rest of the group.

“Good. You were meant to,” Jane grinned, lurching slightly as the cart began to move forward, Will jumping from the wheel before it could turn fully.

As the bandit walked past Will, he turned to him with a sadistic grin. “Don’t I get a goodbye kiss, handsome?”

“Sure,” Will said with a disarming smile, making the other man stumble for a moment. The next he was stumbling further after Will sucker punched him in the mouth. “How was that? Was it good for you, too?”

The raider in the cart was looking on wide eyed, but you caught him grinning slightly at the exchange, looking away quickly to try and hide it when Will glanced his way.

Jane was laughing as the cart began to disappear into the sunset. Her head thrown back, eyes closed, hand over her stomach type laughter. “Don’t make me laugh! It hurts!”

Will gave a dopey grin as he watched them disappear into the dying light, Jane and the bandit tied to the back of the cart bickering back and forth about nonsense that you couldn’t quite make out at this distance, but you could tell she wasn’t taking any shit.

“She’ll be okay.” You walked up to Will, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know.” He was distant, his mind a million miles off. “I know.”

Xxx

Tags: @dilf-din @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @what-the-heckin-heck @telarnidaniela @kalea-bane @morgaussy @enjoythelittlethings @paleidiot @telepathay @carlyreneeinthemoon @competitivedust @ruthyalva96 @brittmb115 @azure-waves @hiddenbabynyc @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @heather1482 @stevie75 @hotzaddypedro

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xxchumanixx · 6 months

Text

Superstitious pt. 1

Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Niklaus Mikaelson x reader

Warnings/Tags: hurt, angst, violence, blood, fluff, comfort, character death

Loving the same person can be hard. Especially when history seems to have a habit of repeating itself.

Authors note: Heya! Had this idea because of a dream that sadly got disturbed by my alarm going off. I really love this and I hope you will as well!

I seem to have a hang for dramatic stories I think.

There will be a part two, split into two chapters (one with Elijah, one with Niklaus)!

Word count: 3.612

"Nik!" his name fell off your lips in a happy squeal, throwing yourself at the oh so dangerous hybrid.

He caught you with ease, holding you flush against his body. "Hello, love." he greeted you in return, his lips curling into a smile. "How are you?"

You separated, looking up at him. "I'm doing great! How are you?" you gave back, smiling. He chuckled at your obviously good mood, leading you to one of the windows of his gallery. "I'm good as well, thank you love."

Your breath hitched in your throat, as you saw the gorgeous view the window provided you. It was one where you could step a little outside, but not really being outside. Almost like a small winter garden.

"See, I promised you a breathtaking view." the hybrid spoke behind you, smiling at the way your eyes lit up and goosebumps covered your skin.

He knew you loved photography, always searching for opportunities to bring out your camera or phone.

The view infront of you instantly made you want to snap some pictures.

The night sky was perfectly in view, along with some of the city's skyline, paired with the enormous chapel located at the far west.

It truly was breathtaking.

"Let me dim the lights and open the window so you can take some pictures." Niklaus offered, before opening the big window infront of you and dimming the lights.

The cool air floating in helped to calm you down a little.

It was the first time that you were at his gallery, as he refused to show you unless it was perfect. Now that you finally could see it, you saw what he meant by 'perfect'.

It truly was.

Almost every one of his paintings was displayed in the big room you currently where at, some of them in the attached rooms that where to your left and right.

It was magical.

You were happy that he was able to fulfill his wish of having his own gallery, a place where he could show his art and inspire others.

When he first told you about it, you were a little hesitant. Considering the past and the words said about him (though you didn't believe them), you weren't sure if he really wanted this.

But now, you knew it was the right thing for him to do. Something to get noticed by in a good way, something people would speak of with kind and gentle words, not the gruesome ones they tried to scare you with.

You fished for your phone in your pocket, not having brought your camera with you.

Looking for the perfect angles you took some pictures and then a few more.

Niklaus watched you with a fond smile on his face, happy to spend some time with you alone.

He was entranced by your appearance, the way your hair flowed down your back like silk, and the glow in your eyes when you looked at the different pictures you took.

He knew he loved you, even though he never would have dared to say it out loud.

Your gentle and kind spirit, which contrasted to his in such a way it took his breath. The way you never got scared because of him and his past, which you well knew thanks to a lot of people.

You had refused to believe what they told you, wanting to get to know him despite everything they said about him being the big bad wolf, the original hybrid.

You were amazed by him.

The way he changed after his daughter was born, the way he cared about the people he loved, showing it in his own ways.

He would have done everything for you, you just had to ask. Seeing you so happy filled him with pride and joy.

But the steps approaching that only he could hear, made him sigh to himself. His time with you alone was up.

You turned around to him, just at the moment where his brother entered the room through the door located behind Niklaus.

"Elijah!" you breathed out, smiling at the older Mikaelson brother with adoration in your eyes.

Niklaus' heart broke for the millionth time, as he knew he would have never stood a chance against his noble brother.

You walked over to Elijah, engulfing him in a hug. He hugged you back, holding you close to him with a smile on his face.

He could hear your human heart race, could feel the happiness that radiated off of you.

"Hello, brother." Niklaus spoke up, causing you two to separate. Elijah greeted him with a curt nod, stepping forward with his hand on the small of your back.

You were oblivious to their silent argument about you, Elijah's gritted teeth the only indicator. But you brushed it off, wanting to show them the pictures you had taken.

"Come on, let me show you the pictures I took." you spoke, smiling at both brothers, before walking over to one of the lounges Niklaus had sat up.

The cushions made the slightest bit of sound as you sunk down on them, Niklaus and Elijah following you short.

They huddled closer to you, each one trying to be closer than the other. You flipped your phone so they could both see, before starting to slowly swipe through the various photographs you had taken.

"These are stunning, darling." Elijah complimented you, making you blush.

"They really are, love." Niklaus agreed with his brothers words. You felt the warmth spread through you at their words, making your heart pick up its pace.

You couldn't deny your love for them, which seemed almost equal. But your heart had trouble deciding, and it slowly killed you inside. You were scared to lose them if you dared to say a word about your feelings, especially when knowing about their past with Tatia.

So you kept it to yourself, hoping not to break because of it.

"She's going to die because of them" "What makes you so sure of that?" "It's history repeating itself. The love of them will ultimately destroy her."

You smoothed out the dress you had picked out the night before, trying to calm yourself down.

It was the night of Niklaus' gallery opening to the public for the first time, the room being crowded with lots of people you didn't know.

You hadn't seen Niklaus nor Elijah yet, leaving you almost alone in the middle of strangers. The only face you knew being your best friend's, but she was already occupied with some wealthy looking man.

"Lost?" the sudden voice behind you had you jumping, your heart doubling its pace with your hand above it.

"Elijah!" you scolded the man now stood beside you, who simply chuckled in return. "You seemed lost amongst these people." he explained, smiling. He knew you hated crowds, them always making you feel uneasy.

You decided to let your anger about him scaring you slide, instead of giving into it.

"I was, thank you very much." you replied, a smile slowly forming on your face as well. "But now you're here so I won't have to watch Marissa cling to this stranger or these poor souls trying to look smart, anymore."

He chuckled again at your words, grabbing two champagne flutes from a waiter passing by. He offered one to you, which you gladly took. "To Niklaus and his gallery." you toasted, clinking your glass with his, before taking a sip of the sweet beverage.

Elijah looked you over for a moment, before opening his mouth to speak. "Y/N, you-"

"You look stunning, love." Niklaus' voice traveled towards you, as he walked over to you, interrupting his brother.

Elijah's fist clenched, but he kept quiet.

You blushed, feeling your insecurity fade a little at his grin. "Thank you." you smiled back at him, subconsciously smoothing over your dress. "I thought I should wear something fit for the occasion."

"It fits perfectly." Niklaus assured you, offering you his hand. "Care for a little tour?" he wanted to know, his eyes gleaming.

"Sure-" you wanted to give back, but Elijah interrupted you. "Actually-" he spoke up, glaring at his brother in the most subtle way possible. "I was about to show Y/N where you hung her photographs."

Your eyes widened at the same time Niklaus' narrowed. You knew that he thought about showing some of your photographs, but never assumed he really would.

Before Niklaus had the chance to reply, Elijah grabbed your hand and led you to one of the attached rooms where Niklaus displayed his art - and apparently yours, too.

"I-" you stuttered, trying to find the right words. "I never thought he would actually show them." "They are beautiful." Elijah gave back, smiling down at you. "They deserve to be seen. They should be seen."

Your cheeks warmed as you looked away from him. You still couldn't believe seeing your own work at a gallery, let alone Niklaus'.

But he gave your hand a soft squeeze, making your eyes find their way back to his. "I really mean it, Y/N." he said. "They are beautiful. And so are you."

Now, you really blushed, your heart skipping a beat.

They would be the death of you.

"Look at her. She doesn't even know that she has them both wrapped around her finger." "What will happen if she finds out? If she discovers that they would fight the other to death if it meant being with her?" "Let's just hope she will do so and then pit brother against brother."

"Do you think she will be more like her mother?"

The question caught you off-guard, making you halt in your movement, the ice cream in your hands no longer important.

"Why would you ask that, Nik?" you wanted to know, frowning at the hybrid.

He hesitated, his mouth agape, before he looked down at his ice cone, licking his bottom lip. "I don't want her to be like me." he quietly admitted, worry etched in his features.

"Why would you say that?" you asked in disbelieve, not understanding how he could think this bad about himself. "You're a great person, why shouldn't she become like you? Or a mix of you and Hayley, for that matter."

He looked back up at your words, hope shining in his eyes like the stars above you.

"Do you really think so?" he wanted to know, sounding more vulnerable than he would have ever admitted to be.

He couldn't stop but hope you really meant what you had said.

"Of course I do." you gave back, smiling up at him. "Why would I not? You're kind, charming, funny and smart. Why shouldn't she become like that, too?"

He made a sound of relief, a smile forming on his face. His heart skipped a beat, something he hadn't experienced in a long time, before you came into his life.

You were like a ray of sunshine after the rain, bringing the rainbow and all its beautiful colors with you wherever you went. Seeing you smile would make his day, hearing you laugh his entire week.

You truly had him wrapped around your finger.

He swallowed, as he thought back to the first opening of his gallery.

He had noticed two women near you and his brother, seemingly talking to themselves. But he hadn't missed what they had said.

He wasn't sure if he should pay much attention to their words, or if they meant entirely different things.

Either way he had kept it to himself.

He embraced you as best as he could, trying to show you his gratitude for your kind words.

He wouldn't admit it, but hearing you say such things about him made him happy, made him value you even more.

Your hands wrapped around him as best as you could, still holding tight onto your ice cream. You would have rather died, before letting it hit the ground.

You loved your ice cream walks with Niklaus, walking through town after the sun had set, buying ice cream and talking about everything you came up with.

It made you happy beyond words.

But your walks with Elijah were beautiful as well.

He would take you to new places, showing you buildings and explaining the history behind them.

Talking about what he had witnessed in person and what happened where. How each building was important in his own way, and showing you the beautiful landscapes.

You would occasionally make picnics, bringing your favorite snacks and drinks along with you, spending the day talking and laughing.

You truly had them wrapped around your fingers.

"They would never turn her, even if it meant her growing old and eventually dying." "Maybe. But her time is running out. She won't even get any gray hair, so don't worry about her growing old."

"Elijah!" Rebekah came rushing inside, frantically searching for her brother. "Elijah!"

"What is it with you?" Niklaus wanted to know as equally as loud, as he rounded the corner, not understanding why his sister had to shout at this time of night. Not that he would have been asleep, anyways.

"It's Y/N!" his sister explained, worry written all across her features, carrying the girl he loved in her hands. "I don't know what happened! She suddenly spat blood, before she fainted."

Niklaus' heart began to pound violently, his head spinning, as he stopped dead in his tracks. Mouth agape he wasn't able to move at first, when suddenly Elijah sped into the hall. They seemed to move in sync, as they both approached their sister with you limp in her arms.

"Bring her into my room!" Elijah acted quickly, not missing the sound of protest his brother made at his words, though; barely being able to hold it back.

But Niklaus knew that it would have been pointless to argument, especially when he didn't know if you would survive, only wasting precious time. So he swallowed his pride and followed his siblings.

Rebekah lay you down on Elijah's bed, checking your temperature. "She's burning up!" she explained, looking at her brothers for any indication of help.

Niklaus' teeth grit, as he seemed to grasp what led to you being in this condition.

"What is it, brother?" Elijah wanted to know, having noticed his brother's change in demeanor.

Niklaus hesitated, but eventually spoke up.

"At the gallery, when you and Y/N looked at her photographs..." he bit his lip, needing a moment to gather the right words. "There were two women, I initially thought they were visitors. But they talked about Y/N having us both wrapped around her finger. About her eventually pitting us against each other. I didn't think much of it but I think they are responsible for this."

He wasn't the one to back down that easily, but he knew he should have told Elijah earlier, who's expression showed exactly that.

"And you didn't deem this important?" he almost shouted, not able to believe that he didn't tell him. "Now Y/N's life is at stake, and you tell me this just now?!"

Niklaus was ashamed.

Not because his brother was angry with him, but because he had failed you. He had known about a threat, still deciding to ignore it, putting you in danger because he didn't want his brother to become overprotective of you.

He should have known better.

How would you ever forgive him, if you even made it out alive?

Elijah paced, as he heard your heartbeat growing weaker. He stopped, putting his hands in his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.

"We have to-" he began, but Niklaus cut him off. "No!" he shouted through the tears blurring his vision. "Don't even think about it!"

Elijah's eyes widened in disbelieve. He couldn't understand how his brother would willingly let you die.

"Are you seriously just going to let her die?" he shouted. "Just because you wouldn't stand her eventually choosing me instead of you?"

Niklaus shook his head. "No, brother. Because she would be sired to you. She loves you, and if you turn her, she could-" "Could, Niklaus!" Elijah cut him off, anger making his voice shake. "I refuse to let her die just because you're scared of losing her!"

Even though his words made Elijah's heart flutter, he knew that you loved his brother as well. He had seen it in your eyes - the way you would look at Niklaus as if he meant the world to you.

How could he possibly compare to that?

It was impulsive and maybe even selfish, but before either one could react, Elijah had bitten into his wrist and pressed it to your mouth, making you swallow the crimson liquid.

"No!" Niklaus shouted, making a move for his brother, but Rebekah held him back as best as she could.

It took him a second, but eventually he broke free from her, rushing at Elijah. They collided, landing on the ground in a heap.

"How could you?!" Niklaus wanted to know, punching his brother in the face, anger making his eyes glow. "She would have died!" Elijah tried to make him come to his senses, gaining the upper hand for a moment, trying to hold his brother down. "How could I not?"

A tear slipped from Niklaus' eye, as he suddenly gave up every fight, slumping on his back.

He didn't want you to end up like them, doomed to live forever, not able to have any children of your own.

A wish you deeply harbored.

But now, your heartbeat had stopped.

You were dead.

And if it weren't for Elijah you might have had a better afterlife than what was about to come.

Hunger.

Heightened emotions.

The possibility of you being sired to Elijah.

It was like a nightmare come true for Niklaus.

He understood why his brother felt the need to save you, but he still hated him for it.

He hated him for robbing you of all chances to live a normal life.

To make you like them.

Turning you into a monster.

Elijah swallowed as he registered your missing heartbeat.

He let go of his brother, sitting back on the ground. His hair hung in his face, but he couldn't care less.

The weight of his decision suddenly hit him like a bullet, stealing his breath.

He had taken everything from you.

Not even giving you the chance to pick.

And now you would pay the price for his selfishness.

It was silent for a while, neither of the siblings daring to utter a word.

But the sudden gasp you let out as you shot into a sitting position broke the silence, making three pairs of eyes turn to you.

You were back.

Elijah part two

Niklaus part two

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus imagine #niklaus x reader #niklaus imagines #elijah x reader #elijah mikealson one shot #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah imagine

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bg-brainrot · 3 months

Text

Of Bets, Bluffs, and Briefs

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: It's another night at the Elfsong for your group of intrepid adventures. After a hard day of fighting evil, you find a way to sit down, unwind, and undress through a game of strip poker.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Strip Poker, Nudity, Alcohol, Innuendos, act 3 unascended Astarion

Word count: ~3.2k

Partly inspired by this amazing piece of fanart from @krembruleed, ty to @thedomesticanthropologist for putting it on my feed!

It's hard work being a hero. Though you suppose one could hardly tell by the current state of your group.

What you had originally thought would be a harmless game of cards– a way to destress with your companions after yet another life-threatening situation– had turned into quite a different type of danger. Right now, you are perilously close to losing your last two items of clothing in a high stakes, winner take all, game of strip poker.

It had begun innocently enough.

"Soldier, what do you think?" Karlach had asked you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You were all sitting together playing a game of cards, drinks in hand, crowded around a circular table in your room at the Elfsong.

You'd lifted your eyes from your hand to look at her, directly on your right, and asked, "About what?"

"About raising the stakes a bit," she'd responded with a little eyebrow wiggle.

In your defense, your hand was fantastic. Your mind was mired in all of the possibilities it could afford you. That being said, maybe you should have gotten clarification before agreeing. "That sounds like a great idea, Karlach."

So now here you are, wearing only a pair of underpants and socks, regretting the fact that a single good hand led you to this sorry state of undress. You’re no stranger to being naked, but something about being half-naked, elbow to elbow with your friends, with nothing but a few flimsy cards between you? Well, you are starting to feel a touch exposed.

The rest of your team doesn't seem to be faring much better: Wyll is down to his white briefs; Karlach has a pair of bracers and her underpants left; Lae'zel is down to just a headband she'd nearly forgotten about; Shadowheart has both a bra and underwear left; Gale is wearing his purple underpants and an amulet; Halsin is already out of the game, completely nude, sitting at the table and simply appreciating the freedom of it all. You rather suspect he wasn’t trying as hard as the rest of you to keep clothed.

There is, however, one among your crew who is nearly no worse for wear, save a pair of missing boots and a missing cape. Astarion, with all of the pride of someone who has had four winning hands in a row, smiles wickedly at the group over his latest hand of cards.

“Come on, Astarion,” Karlach whines, leaning forward on the table. “You cannot possibly have another flush or I am calling bullshit.”

“My dearest Karlach,” he starts, voice coated in only the sweetest of honey. “You wound me. I am simply playing with the hands that I’ve been dealt, same as the rest of you.”

“And your hands just happen to include a full house or two?” Shadowheart questions, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him as she crosses her bare legs.

Astarion’s fanged grin grows. “Maybe I’m just lucky?”

You have begun to strongly suspect foul play as well, given the vampire’s downright unbelievable ‘luck’ so far. “Astarion, if you are cheating, I will be incredibly cross with you,” you say as a way of warning. He doesn’t need to strip in front of the group if he doesn’t want to, of course, and he could just as easily have avoided the game altogether. No, he seems to have another motive behind his near-perfect playing.

“My darling!” he exclaims, placing a single pale hand on his chest. “The rest of these jealous dimwits I expect, but you?” He makes an exaggerated show of wiping away a fake tear with one of Gale’s many forfeited articles of clothing.

“Excuse you!” Gale cuts in. “You may have won the hand, but I expect my robe to be in perfect condition once you return it to me.”

“I thought we were playing for keeps?” you ask, turning to Karlach. Or was this not as high stakes as you’d expected?

“Of course we are!” the tiefling answers with gusto. “Otherwise where’s the fun! The fear! The excitement!” She punctuates each statement by pounding on the table, nearly jostling everyone’s flagons onto the floor.

The point was made though and you simply hear a resigned sigh from the wizard. “I cannot lose my last pair of enchanted underwear,” he grumbles.

“Then maybe you ought to try winning,” Astarion retorts, the gleeful look never leaving his face.

You take a sip from your drink, surveying the situation. You’re playing 5-card draw, a simple version of poker, rife with opportunity for Astarion to cheat. But why cheat? It’s a game for fun, despite the silly fear it’s clearly instilled in you all. And it’s not as if he’s wearing his best gear or outfit.

You take a look at your hand, another dud– no opportunities for a straight, no pairs for a full house. Your best bet is to draw and hope for a pair, but you suspect that won’t nearly be enough to beat whatever Astarion is crooning over. With only a pair of socks and underpants to your name, you know when you’ve lost. So you know it’s time to do what you do best. “Well then,” you say, placing your cards face down on the table and leaning back. “What happens if I fold?”

“Fold?” Lae’zel asks with a glare. “Would you truly abandon your efforts this deep into the battle?”

Little does she know that you plan on losing the battle to win the war. “Yes,” you respond easily. “What does that do?”

Karlach’s face scrunches up as she considers the possibilities. No one has tried to back out yet, but surely, you need some kind of punishment for trying to avoid the ‘strip’ part of strip poker.

“How about you buy the next round?” Wyll offers, ever the gentleman. His eyes are carefully trained on yours, and you’re not sure if the blush that colors his cheeks is from the drinks he’s had or the proximity of your bare chest.

“Hells no!” Karlach answers immediately. “That’s getting off too easy– we need actual consequences here.”

Astarion, to your immense suspicion, has yet to say anything. When you look over to him, he’s inspecting you with narrowed eyes, hands folded over his facedown cards. The corner of his lip lifts as you make eye contact with him, and he asks, “What’s the matter, love? Running away from me, are you?”

It’s as you thought. He doesn’t want to strip everyone down– he wants to strip you down. “Why would you think that?” you counter, crossing your arms in challenge. “Are you so certain you’ll win again?”

“I’ve got it!” Karlach exclaims. “You need to be the one to strip someone else down. And you’ve got to go real slow.”

You’d already been staring at Astarion’s face when Karlach made the declaration, so you immediately clock the slight bit of annoyance that furrows his brow. Everyone save Lae’zel and him was down to their underwear, so it was easy enough to imagine how that particular exercise would go.

Karlach, you’re a genius, you think. Aloud, you simply say, “Sounds fair to me.”

“Ridiculous,” Astarion mutters. You strongly suspect he would rather you reserve any undressing for him, but you’ve already folded and he’s likely already cheated his hand.

Everyone completes their draws, hands are placed face up on the table, and Astarion’s ludicrous bout of good luck is staring at you all once more– this time in the form of a straight flush.

Lae’zel slams her hands on the table. “You swindler,” she growls, pointing at Astarion with an accusatory finger.

The vampire raises his hands in defense, leaning away from the table. “I am nothing of the sort!” He does shoot you a wary look before clearing his throat. “And what of our lovely leader?”

It’s time for your punishment. “Do I get to pick, Karlach?” you ask, looking between your companions in turn.

“Of course not!” she says, clapping you on the back. “Let’s draw cards for the privilege of your nimble fingers, shall we?”

Everyone agrees easily enough, and it’s not long before they’re all pulling from the stack, the highest card to be the ‘victor.’ Lae’zel draws a queen, Karlach an eight, Gale a four, Wyll a jack, and Shadowheart an ace.

You turn to the cleric, who seems entirely unaffected by the whole ordeal. “Would you prefer the top or bottom?” she asks you, with a slight purse to her lips.

Despite his earlier misgivings, Astarion’s quick with a sultry sounding retort, “Oh I think we both know which you prefer, darling?” Karlach can’t help the snort that escapes her any more than Gale can hide the startled cough.

You ignore him and the rest of your companions, getting up and walking to where Shadowheart is seated. “Let’s just do the top,” you say, moving her hair out of the way.

“Very well,” she responds, sitting up a bit straighter for you. “But be quick about it.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Karlach immediately interrupts. “Be as slow as possible, soldier. Or you’ll have to do it again!”

“Don’t worry, love! You know exactly how slow to go,” Astarion quips, looking at you through his lashes.

You ignore his quip. To appease Karlach, you make a show of it: delicately removing each strap, undoing the back latch. All the while, you hold eye contact with your vampiric lover, as if taunting him, saying ‘this is what you get for cheating.’ He watches, lips making a hard, annoyed line. Shadowheart’s top removed, you return to your seat.

Once everyone else has relinquished their articles of clothing, the game is down to you, Karlach, Shadowheart, Gale, and, of course, Astarion.

Halsin places an arm around an embarrassed Wyll’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, my friend. Now you are free of any constraints, allowed to observe and appreciate the game as one would the natural world.”

“Sounds lovely, Halsin,” he answers, ducking his head a bit. “I think.”

Lae’zel, for her part, seems perfectly fine to have lost the headband, not any more naked than she was before. “Tchk, hurry and finish the game. Why is everyone in Faerun so interested in the nude form?” It’s a fair question, but none of you answer it as another set of hands is dealt.

You observe Astarion the entire time, noting every subtle movement of his hands, watching as you try to pin down an extra card or a slip of his sleeve. But he’s ready for this, looking at you as he inspects each new card. “So, darling,” he drawls. “Are you planning on folding again?”

“That depends,” you reply, looking at your cards quickly. Nothing too impressive, but better than the last hand. “Are you planning on cheating again?”

“Gods above,” he mutters, fanning himself with his cards. “My poor, undead heart can’t take much more of these accusations.” Your eyes catch a slight jerk of his hand, and you know what you must do.

“I’d like to fold again,” you say, looking back to the tiefling woman on your right.

“Alright, soldier,” she agrees with a snicker. The glimmer in her eyes is enough to show that she knows you’re up to something.

“May I fold too?” Gale grumbles, now truly down to his last magical pair of underpants.

Karlach thinks about it for a moment, realizing the flaw in her plan. “No,” she finally states. “Only one person per round.”

Everyone finishes drawing and plays their hands. Unlike last time, everyone turns to Gale, who has won with a pair of tens. “I won?” he asks, turning toward Astarion, whose expression is quite blank. His hand had been miserable, as if he’d drawn for worse cards– which you suspect he might have.

“Let’s see who I shall strip then,” you say, laying out the stack for the remaining three. You already know who will emerge victorious, sure that there’s an ace up his sleeve at this very moment. Shadowheart draws a seven, Karlach a ten, and, low and behold, Astarion draws an ace.

“Aren’t I the luckiest vampire in Baldur’s Gate?” he says, smiling up at you as you walk around the table to him. “What will you be taking?”

You tilt your head at him, debating the possibilities. But you start simple, slowly, carefully removing the blouse from his head. The entire time, you smile with satisfaction. Because you know you’ve won.

Shadowheart and Karlach now sit there, naked as the day they entered this realm of existence. The tiefling gives you another clap on the back with a laugh, as she whispers loudly at you, “Avenge me, soldier!”

And avenge you will.

You fold another four times. Each time, Astarion somehow, miraculously, loses. And each time he sighs deeply, dramatically as you approach him to peel off yet another piece of clothing.

The second time, he whispers, “You cheeky thing, how could you?

On the third time, he whispers, “Don’t you want me to win?”

On the fourth time, he whispers, “Fine, but don’t think you’ll get out of this.”

That’s how he loses his greaves, his pants, his socks, and a necklace, leaving him in only his bright blue briefs.

When you go to fold for a fifth time, ready to remove Astarion from the game once and for all, the man sighs before even viewing his cards and says, “I fold.”

You look at Karlach, as if she might be able to save you, but she only shrugs at you. Her eyes seem to say, ‘It’s in the rules now!’

And you suppose it is. So you and Gale each discard, draw, and play your hands. Your three of a kind beats his pair, and Astarion reluctantly strips the wizard of his last, purple pair of enchanted briefs.

I’ll return it to him after the game, you think, as Astarion deposits the pair in front of you with a smirk.

“I’m a few articles of clothing poorer, but I do believe I did rather well, didn’t I?” Gale says, sitting back down, wincing slightly as his bare cheeks make contact with the wooden chair.

“As well as you can when that one cheats,” Shadowheart says, gesturing toward Astarion with her glass of wine.

“I am innocent until proven guilty,” Astarion replies, sitting back down in his seat, ready for the final showdown.

Now it’s just you and Astarion facing off. You, with a pair of underwear and socks. Him, reduced to his underpants.

“Oh, darling,” he says, leaning back enough that his entire bare torso is on full display. “Do you really think you’ll be able to defeat me in a game like this?”

“I think I like my odds,” you say, leaning back in much the same way. “Karlach, would you do us the honor of dealing?”

“My pleasure,” she responds, cards shooting out of her hands at an alarming speed.

Everyone watches on bated breath as you both draw your hands, look over them silently. You really do like your odds now. Cheating will prove hard for Astarion to do without sleeves to hide cards, and everyone is watching him carefully, waiting to catch the pilferer in the act.

Good, you think, slipping a few cards out from under the table. Two can play at this game, and only one of us waited until the right moment to cheat.

You deposit your extra cards subtly back on the discard pile when no one is looking, and fan your remaining hand out– what stares back at you is an impeccable, unbelievable royal flush. You know you’re going to win, there’s no doubt about it, so you allow yourself a little taunt. “Now that you’re about to lose, my love… whatever compelled you to cheat? What do you gain out of this?”

Astarion looks back at you, eyes straining around the edges as he debates what to discard. “Not that I cheated,” he starts, with a smile that comes out more of a grimace. “But I thought it might be nice to rightfully win one of your undergarments. And perhaps to keep it out of the hands of these lecherous fools.” He gives everyone else at the table a glare in turn before discarding and drawing back up.

Oh, you think. That’s sweet, in a weird, slightly concerning way. Much like the man who now turns back to you, a wide, unabashed smile on his pale face. “I see,” is all that you say in response. You look down at the royal flush in your hand. You can’t lose with this, and you can’t very well try to cheat again when you’re both done drawing.

You turn to Karlach. “Can I still fold?”

“What!?” she cries, looking at you like you’re insane. “Why would you do that, soldier? You’ve nearly got ‘im!”

“Darling,” the man calls from across the table. You look into his fierce, red eyes, narrowed with determination. “Don’t you dare lose to me on purpose. Especially when I know that you’ve beaten me at my own game.”

The smirk he gives you is all the encouragement you need. “Fine,” you say, laying out your preposterous, beautiful hand. Everyone at the table gasps, save Astarion. He only looks at you warmly before laying out his sad, single pair of nines.

“Well played,” he says, standing up. A second later, his blue underwear is off, like a flag of surrender. In all of his naked glory, he walks around the table, places his briefs in front of you, and smiles. “I’ll get you next time, my sweet.”

You look up at him, aware that all of your companions are watching the exchange with rapt attention, but also finding that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You can have me now, if you’d like.”

“Lady of the Moon save me… please control yourselves,” Shadowheart says, downing the rest of her wine glass. She stands up, ignoring the dizzying display of love next to her. “That’s enough of that game, wouldn’t you all say?”

“Yes, why don’t we find something a bit… warmer to play?” Wyll suggests, standing up after Shadowheart. Halsin, Lae’zel and Gale follow, leaving you, Karlach, and Astarion behind.

The tiefling usually knows when to leave the two of you to your own devices, but can’t resist one last comment. “Thanks for avenging me, soldier,” she says, wrapping you in a warm, bare bear hug. At Astarion’s low, annoyed groan, she releases you, laughing. “Join us again once you’re done doing whatever weird flirting you get up to!”

She leaves the two you be, and you turn toward Astarion. “So,” you say, scratching the back of your head ruefully. “Was that too much?”

He shakes his head at you, white curls bouncing lightly. “No, I’d rather say I deserved it a bit– But only a bit.”

You laugh at the admission and hold out a hand for Astarion to bring out of your chair. He takes it, pulling you up and into his arms. Your bare chests press together a moment, and the chill of his skin on yours leaves goosebumps all along your arms. “Thank you,” you murmur, realizing that your faces are too close, skin too exposed.

Astarion doesn’t seem to mind, leaning a bit further into you. “You’re quite welcome, my dear.” He drops his voice to a whisper, meant only for your ears. “What do you say we finish our ‘weird flirting’ before we rejoin the group?”

“Only if you promise to keep the sleight of hand to a minimum in our next game,” you whisper, looking between his red eyes.

He sighs, his cool breath tickling your face. “Very well.”

“And next time, just ask me for the underpants,” you grumble, before finally pressing your lips into his.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion fanfiction #tadfools tomfoolery

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devildom-moss · 9 months

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Hmmm I'm kinda curious maybe some Yandere Mephisto? (either headcanons or whatever works for you) I'm interested to see how you'd write it. Thank you and hope ur having a good day!

Super late on this, but I hope you'll still enjoy it, anon! I went with some headcanons - sfw and nsfw are clearly separated. Thank you for the request and I hope you have a good day, too.

yandere!Mephisto headcanons

(Mephisto x gn!MC)

(18+, dark themes for SFW and NSFW, NSFW)

(NSFW and other tags: yandere and general creepiness, mentions of: possessiveness, harm and cruelty to others - not MC, stalking and tracking, stealing clothes, recording without consent, marking, dubcon and implied potential noncon - only in the nsfw hypnosis section, hypnosis and magic, collaring, bondage, exhibitionism)

He likes to stalk gather information about you when he has time to spare. He’ll sometimes make a whole weekend out of it if he can – which can be awkward when someone asks him to do them a favor or spend time with them. Unless it’s Lord Diavolo (or MC, of course), he’ll just say he already made plans.

Mephisto keeps a notebook with facts about you (your favorite foods, flowers, where you spend days off, where you go to calm down, who you spend the most time with – he’s got more than a few pages). At least the man is smart enough to password seal his notebook with magic.

He invites you over for Demonus tastings and asks for your opinions – he even asks you to take notes. It’s not even scratch paper notes – he’s got sturdy cardstock prepared with sections for appearance, aroma, taste, body, finish, etc. If you have no clue what you’re doing, he gets immense pleasure in teaching you. Surprisingly, he’s not too critical of your ability to take good notes; he adores the fact that you’re willing to do this with him – even if it does seem a bit pretentious. Mephisto will photocopy your notes and put one copy in his notebook about his demonus collection alongside his own notes and keep the original in his room. More on this in the NSFW section.

He will give you jewelry – but only pieces that he thinks you will love and wear often. For special occasions, he might even get something custom made. When you wear it, he feels like he’s claiming you. You’re wearing his gift. Unfortunately, he gets angry when you don’t wear one of his gifts – but he tries not to show you that side because he doesn’t want you to think he’s being irrational. Classmates, other members of the newspaper club, and any lesser demon who crosses his path the wrong way will face his wrath instead. He might bring it up casually to you, though. “Oh, MC, that necklace I got you would look great with your uniform, don’t you think?”

His favorite thing to gift to you are shoes. He loves the idea of you slipping something he gave you onto your precious feet. It’s like he’s taking every step with you. Mephisto will insist that you change shoes immediately when he gifts them, and he will often ask to put them on for you. His touch is so gentle and tender when he drops to one knee and slips the shoes onto your feet. He takes pride in securing the buckles comfortably around you or tying the perfect bow. Only once he’s done will he look up at you with an affectionate, “gorgeous.”

Sure, he may have been rude to you when you first met (and let’s face it, he still is on occasion after he realizes he wants you), but he will find any demon who is rude to you and hurt them – depending on the severity of their actions. If lesser demons touch you, he will personally kill them. A man of his means has ways of washing his hands clean of any dirt that dares to lay an undeserving hand upon you. He might be crueler if he thinks you were nice to that demon (for example, if a demon bumps into you and drops their papers, and you help them pick everything up). No one deserves to touch you except him – and maybe Lord Diavolo. He makes an exception for those you might miss – anyone from Lucifer to one of the little D.s – even though he’d rather destroy anyone that gets between you and him.

You run into him (possibly a little too often) on outings – especially if you’re alone. It’s not enough to draw serious suspicion or to expect it any time you’re out and about, though. He knows just where to draw the line. Plus, he has things to do; he can’t stalk you and find you every time you’re alone. Mephisto doesn’t want you wandering the Devildom by yourself. He just feels more relaxed when he can watch over you, and getting to spend time alone with you is a bonus. Still, just in case he can’t be there, he tracks your D.D.D. constantly (and he put a few tracking spells on some of your most worn accessories and clothes).

He’ll try to be chill when he “runs into you” – unless he finds you with Lucifer or Diavolo. That gets on his nerves more than the others. He wouldn’t be happy to find you on a date with anyone else, but seeing you with Lucifer makes him hostile, and seeing you with Diavolo can make him passive aggressive. He often mentions how rare it is that Diavolo has a spare moment to spend with you. “You aren’t avoiding any work are you, My Lord? What would Barbatos say about that?” If he sees an opportunity to steal you away, he will. If he can do so without getting caught or in trouble, he’ll sabotage your date. It rubs him the wrong way when someone else shows you a good time, even though he wants you to be happy.

He records conversations with you to play back later. Sometimes he “forgets” to hit stop after an interview with you and your entire off the record conversation stays on his D.D.D. Oops. Other times, he just “accidentally” hit record when he sat down or something. How unusual.

If you’ve been testing him a lot (by being social), he’ll invite you over and take you into his room. He wants your scent everywhere. Nap in his bed, borrow his shirt, use his shower – just exist where he does for a minute. He loves and hates bringing you into his room because he knows he’ll have to let you leave at some point. Someone would come looking for you if he kept you there. As much as it breaks his heart, you’d probably want to leave after a while, too.

If you want tattoos, he asks if he can help you pick a design for your next tattoo. I don’t think he has the skill to tattoo you himself, so he would stomach someone else touching you if that means he would get to be a part of something permanent on your body. He wants you to think of him every time you look at yourself.

When he has you all to himself and you’re on much friendlier terms, he will ask if you’d like to try hypnosis or guided meditation with him, especially if you seem stressed or sad. He pitches it like it’s an opportunity to just relax and let go. All you have to do is trust him. If you agree, Mephisto uses magic and does his best to make it a soothing experience for you. He wants you to come to him whenever you need to relax or want comfort. It isn’t until after he’s wormed his way into that pretty little head of yours that he pushes the boundaries – asking you to desire him more than anyone, telling you to kiss him, demanding that you pull away from the others. More on this in the NSFW section.

NSFW

Remember those notes about Demonus that Mephisto keeps in his room? He’ll pour a glass of one of the bottles you shared and find the corresponding notes. He absolutely would masturbate to your handwriting and cum on the paper – probably moaning your name the entire time. Mephisto likes to imagine you drinking with him and taking advantage of his inebriated state. The thought that you could want him so much that you’d touch him when he was in no position to refuse you turns him on so much (not that he would ever refuse you). Despite that recurring fantasy, he rarely gets drunk around you because he’s terrified of making a fool of himself in your presence – especially since you’d be unaffected by the Demonus. After he’s ruined your handwriting sample, he’ll burn the incriminating evidence. It’s become a strange ritual for him, and he can’t seem to go a month without it. He may get extremely pushy about you coming over to try new bottles with him if he starts to run low on his MC handwriting sample supply.

Don’t let this man over and leave him unattended. He will use your brief neglect as an excuse to rummage through your laundry. Isn’t it lucky for him that underwear and socks are such easy garments to steal? He doesn’t really care whether they’re clean or dirty as long as you’ve already worn them before (and ideally if they smell like you). If you get the clothes back (not guaranteed), he will sneak them back after reluctantly washing them, but they definitely had his cum all over them at some point. He’s more likely to give clothes back if he bought them for you. Expect gifts of cute socks and if you’re already having sex with him, he’ll buy you underwear, too. Just don’t be too shocked if they go missing.

Speaking of not leaving him unattended, during those trips where everyone leaves, if you don’t invite him, he takes that as an invitation to break and enter sneak into your room. Mephisto – pent up with jealousy and need – will climb into your bed and touch himself. His mind gets fuzzy as he imagines you laying in bed with him. He moans loudly; he’s moaning for you, after all. He’s usually pretty careful not to make a mess when he does this. Mephisto doesn’t want to get caught, and he knows that if he leaves a mess in your sheets, he won’t want to clean it. The temptation to make you sleep in his cum is too strong, and it would make him feel better about not getting invited, so he avoids making a mess altogether. He might take something while he’s there, though. You deserve a punishment for leaving him alone, don’t you?

Did you really think hypnosis would stop at something as simple as a kiss? He is a demon, after all. He’d rather use hypnosis to enhance the experience of sex with you by calming your nerves, increasing your sensitivity, or overwhelming you with pleasure, but if he has to use it to get what he wants, he will. He wants you so much that he’ll resort to using magic. It’s a last resort, though, and he really wants you to want him on your own. There’s only so much a demon can take.

The next few are more of an established relationship yandere headcanon, but once he gets you in his bed, it takes every ounce of restraint he has to not keep you there. He wants to chain you to his bed (but rope works too) and tend to your every desire. If you let him, he’ll make you cum so much and so hard that you lose track of time. He’ll keep you there for multiple days, pleasuring you until you can’t think of anyone else but him. (He’ll let you go to eat, go to the bathroom, etc.) If your phone doesn’t get charged and no one can get ahold of you for a day or two, it’s not that big of a deal, right?

Mephisto will mark you up – biting and leaving hickeys all over your body. He wants others to see.

He will try to collar you – he’d even let you pick the style of collar that you want. If he can get you to wear it outside of the bedroom (although, if you’re already having sex, that is not contained to a bedroom), that’s even better. He wants to show off that he owns you. You belong to him. He’ll wear a collar for you, too, though. This man wants to be owned just as much as he wants to own you.

#ask #anon #requests #mephistopheles #gn!mc #spice tier #obey me headcanons #obey me #obey me mephistopheles #mephistopheles x reader #mephistopheles x mc #yandere mephistopheles

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moony-2001 · 3 months

Text

Lore Olympus ch. 257-262 critique pt. 2

Aaaand we're back

Ch. 260

Hermes, Hebe, and trauma dumping

Jumping right into it, Hermes pissed me right the fuck off. I don't know why Demeter didn't want to accept the aid from the underworld, but I'm sure pride must be some of it. But for Hermes to call it an "in-law tiffy-tiff" was beyond wrong. I don't know or remember what, if any, beef he has with Demeter but read the fucking room, man.

I'm so glad Demeter took Hebe in though, like the absolute Queen that she is. One thing that disturbed me a little when Hebe and Demeter got to talking is how Rachel tries to pass off Hera's trauma dumping on Hebe as if it's nothing.

First of all, 18-year-olds are still kids. I know (at least for the vast majority here in the US) that 18 is the legal age of adulthood, but the human brain doesn't finish developing until around age 25. Even if that's how the rules in LO work (I have a sneaking suspicion they're not though, seeing as Persephone is technically stuck at age 19 for the rest of time) Hebe is 7 years off from having a fully developed brain.

Additionally, I don't like how Rachel frames the idea that Hebe found out all of this information from her mother as a now 18-year-old. I don't know if Rachel is forgetting her own damn timeline (not that there was a cohesive one in the first place) but Hebe wouldn't have been 18 at the time of finding out this information.

Remember the 10-year time skip? Yeah, that whole thing? And how 5 of the 6 Traitors were in a coma? For 10 years? In case you haven't picked up what I'm trying to put down, Hebe was 8 years old when her mother went into that coma. Which means that Hera dumped all this information on a literal fucking child who was 8 or potentially even younger since we have no frame of reference for when Hebe was told this information.

Demeter is right. It is wrong to burden your kids with that. I don't know Rachel, but from this writing, I would venture a guess that she's never had a parent trauma dump on her.

I have. Rachel has no idea how mentally taxing it is to have a parent trauma dump on you or have them drag you into the middle of their fights or vent about their spouse/your other parent to you behind their back. That is not something a parent should EVER do to a child and I'll be damned if I ever do that to mine.

And while there is a shred of truth to what Hebe is saying, about how that information helps her understand her mom, Hebe does not (and in fact should not) be part of her mother's journey to work on herself, especially at that young of an age. Your child is not your therapist.

Demophon, the not child of Demeter

I will say, I am glad that Demeter finally decided to open up to her somewhat adult daughter. Oh, what's this? Persephone looks upset and-

😀😐

of-fucking-course

Is this it?? Is this the moment when we finally find out what happened to Demeter in Attica all those years ago-

Anyway, what we find out is that while in Attica, Demeter supposedly fell in love with the King of Eleusis and had Demophon, a my little pony-looking abomination not worse than whatever the fuck the above pictures are supposed to be. But if you note my title for this portion of the chapter, you'll see it says "the not child of Demeter". And that, dear readers, is because Demophon is in fact not a child of Demeter in the original myths. And Rachel also spelled his name wrong. (You can read more about him here: Demophon of Eleusis)

It seems to me that Rachel is doing what most couples with a failing relationship do: throw a baby at it and hope it will fix the problems.

What technicality? Do you mean the "technicality" that Demeter was punished for insubordination (regardless of her intentions) and lived as a mortal for 10 years? And during that time as a mortal had a son who was born as and died as a mortal? Forgive me if I'm being slow here, but I don't see what this "technicality" is supposed to be. How is Demophon's death any different from the mortals that Persephone killed and asked if it was possible to bring back?

I'm gonna sound a little nitpicky here, but Hades is the god of the dead (and wealth) not the god of death. Believe it or not, there is a difference, and the brushing aside of that difference is the reason why people still get Hades and Thanatos mixed up to this day. Plus does no one remember what happened to Asclepius when he figured out how to raise the dead? tl;dr: not good things.

I have a feeling that all this is happening because Persephone and Hades are trying to buy off Demeter. They want brownie points with the woman who is rightfully upset about everything that is happening right now. And I'll be willing to bet that this smooths things right over with her.

Ch. 261

Off-topic, Demeter looked really pretty in this chapter #standemeter

The "technicality" and Hades' BS

I am glad Demeter gets this small bit of happiness but also:

Nice try, but that's not how that works. Get your smug, ugly-ass mug out of here. Once again, why is Demophon the exception? Because you're whipped for Persephone? Because you want a gold star from your MIL who has perfectly valid reasons to not like you?

Ah. I guess his name is Triptolemus now. Triptolemus who is the older brother of Demophon. Who is also not a son of Demeter. Sure.

NO DON'T FALL FOR IT DEMETER. IT'S A TRAP-

The sisters

It is nice for the most part to see Hera, Demeter, and Hestia interacting. I don't think that's something we've seen outside of flashbacks.

I don't, however, like this interaction between Demeter and Hera:

Yeah, no, that's not how that works. Demeter has every right to be mad at you for helping Hades and Persephone get around the fact that they "violated the laws of Xenia (hospitality)". It doesn't matter if Persephone was a "wild card". Hera had no right to marry them.

In fact, I had a conversation with anoldplace and something we discussed is how much Hera's responsibility/involvement in Persades is kinda just... brushed off. Especially if you look back at the way early chapters (I'm talking s1 early) when Hera changes her tune from "wtf, that's so gross, what is wrong with you" to "Let me get this whole ball rolling". Persephone wouldn't have even had half the interactions she did with Hades had Hera not put her in that internship for the underworld. And Demeter doesn't even know about the early stuff. Think about how livid she would be if she found out Hera was pulling the strings from the beginning. Yikes.

Different topic but the fact that both Demeter and Persephone love to swim is cute.

Ch. 262

Jfc, finally. I'm so tired lol.

Hera's prophecy

In honor of Hera's ugly highlighter-looking color, the sections shall, too, be in yellow.

I was pretty excited to see that Hera got a vision. I'm also sad that this isn't something we see utilized more often in the series. In fact, we don't really see any of the goddesses use their powers besides... oh, for Christ's sake. I don't even want to say it, it just adds to her Mary Sue-ness.

Place your bets on how long it takes for Rachel to dress Persephone in something similar, if not identical, to this.

Moving on, we see Kronos smush and kinda throw Hera away and she's left wondering:

That's cute and all, but no. Like I huffed and puffed with the whole "attempted murder" bullshit with Zeus, for one to die, they must be mortal. If gods could die, they wouldn't be gods. They would be human looking at you Demophon. I understand why the sentiment of dying is upsetting, but Hera, Zeus, whomever cannot die. I suppose similar to Egyptian mythology, they could be chopped up and have their parts scattered to the winds but from what I've seen, there's nothing in Greek mythology that details anything like that.

I did see a really funky theory that I agree with that Hera must be some kind of fertility goddess. In fact, I've seen a lot of people speculate that she was the fertility goddess on the wall of that cave that was destroyed. It would be really wonderful if that greyed-out goddess in Hera's vision was her and not Persephone. Kinda like the ultimate "taking back the power" moment. But tbh I'm not hopeful.

Persephone and Hades... yay/s

*gag* anyway-

Hades decided to give the MORTAL Demophon his whole stash of ambrosia but he doesn't really know if it will actually work and he's salty that Zeus is stingy with it.

Okay, first of all, if it's that damn important that you have ambrosia and you're going to be a salty mofo that the only person who has it is stingy with it, make your own damn ambrosia. You're telling me you've been alive for thousands of years yet the thought hadn't occurred to you once? Bffr. Watch this come back and bite them in the ass in the series finale.

Secondly, if you've never done this before, how do you know it's going to work for Demophon? I mean, it probably will because plot armor, but seriously? What would happen if Demophon just kicked the bucket all over again? Like congratulations, you re-traumatized your wife's mother who already doesn't like you.

Final thoughts

This is all just unraveling so quickly. Watch Demophon disappear and never be addressed again. I am really hoping that this series wraps up between March and May like genericpuff predicted because I am tired. I mean, I'll miss the ability to make content while the material is still piping hot, but also reading this comic is taking a toll on my health. I have never seen my blood pressure in such a state. And I'm not even the one writing the comic.

I can't imagine being in Rachel's shoes rn. I know this point has been beaten to death by everyone and their moms (myself included), but it's so clear that Rachel just doesn't give a shit about this comic anymore. And it's sad. But I also get it.

Rachel has talked about after LO she wants to do a comic along the lines of this but involving Egyptian or Norse mythology. I hope she doesn't for very obvious reasons, but if she decides she wants to step up to the plate for what will inevitably be LO pt. 2, I hope she takes the time to actually research the cultures and learn from the very egregious mistakes that she made here. I won't be there if she does.

#anti lore olympus #lo critical #anti lo persephone #lore olympus #unpopular lo #unpopular lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus critical #lo critique #lo critic #lo hate #lore olympus hate #lore olympus criticism

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soobnny · 11 months

Text

summer strike — hyunjin (teaser)

trope. strangers to lovers. comfort fic. found family. heavily inspired by the kdrama

synopsis. having had enough of your life in the big city, you head to a small town where you meet a local librarian who feels a lot like love

estimated word count. 23k words

release date. next week

warnings. drinking alcohol, curse words, mentions of feeling so alone, more to add

taglist. send an ask if u wanna be tagged when it drops :)

note. i’m so so excited for this one so i hope you’ll look forward to reading it !!

“Do you… repair all the books yourself?” You ask, looking down at the multitude of pages he’s tending to and the stack of books waiting to be repaired in a trolley parked at the side of his table.

“Yes.” He smiles upon answering, and it’s one that radiates pride in the work he does.

Your lips quaver slightly, trying to find words to say to him. You wonder if it’d be okay with him if you wanted to help out. The work looks interesting, and a little soothing. Would that make him uncomfortable?

Fiddling with the ends of your shirt, you stab your hesitance straight in the chest. “Can I try too?”

His mouth falls agape, and then he’s nodding his head, gesturing for you to take the seat adjacent to him. Hyunjin grabs an extra spatula, passing it to you before smiling shyly down at the books and pages.

“You take the spatula, and spread the glue evenly.” Hyunjin looks up at you before grabbing a page and his own spatula so you can mimic his gestures. “Then, you place the page at its original location.”

He closes up the book he’s working on, patting down at the spine so the glue sticks well. “That’s it.”

“Oh.” You look at his work with fascination, smiling as he sets the book aside. “You’re kind of like a doctor. It’s like you’re applying medicine to the books.”

He grins at your words, eyes averting from your eye contact as he shyly grins. You know he has pure love for what he does, and it warms your heart. It’s a sentiment you wish you had for your job back then.

“I think…” You fix your gaze to your hands that are propped on the table, intertwining your fingers together. “I’m in love.”

Hyunjin’s inability to look you in the eyes seem to falter the moment you speak. His mouth falls back into an ‘o’, and the tip of his ears are awfully red.

“Wait, sorry. What I mean is… I think I’m in love with the process of fixing up old things.” With slightly widened eyes, you gesture at the book he had just fixed cartoonishly, chewing on your lips a little embarrassedly.

The boy in front of you nods, fingers pausing over his task; you turn to look at him, and you’re relieved to see his smile returning.

“I see.” He chuckles, grabbing onto the pages that still need to be glued and grouping them together, tapping them lightly on the table so they align.

“Let me help you.” You reach out to the remaining pages, and Hyunjin looks at you with an expression you don’t quite recognize, but you know has no ill-intent. He always looks this way. Always natural, never forced.

As you quietly work on the task, Hyunjin can’t stop himself from looking at you from time to time. He thinks it’s to monitor your work, but does that excuse the way he stares at the small smile tugging on your lips?

“Has anyone told you how you resemble Aphrodite?”

“Me?” He asks, eyes darting you and the book he’s working on. You grin at him, nodding your head.

“Yes. Goddess of Beauty in Greek Mythology. You know her, right?”

“I do.” He smiles back easily, willing the blush that’s obviously creeping on his cheeks away.

“When I first met you, that character came to mind.” You mumble as you stare at the page in your hands, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to match it to its proper book. You pause, catching yourself before you can misplace the page, and Hyunjin looks up at the sudden silence.

“Which one was this again?” Sheepish. You think you’ve embarrassed yourself more times than none in this library.

You don’t notice Hyunjin leaving his seat, sauntering over to where you’re seated so he can peer at the page and at the books in front of you. “May I?”

His tone is kind, and it didn’t seem as if he were upset that you didn’t know where to put the page. On the contrary, he made you feel as if it was okay that you didn’t know. Quick to reassure.

“I don’t memorize all of these either. I only remember the names and places in the books, and I like drawing to keep an imagine of them in my head too..” He’s arranging the pages now, putting the corresponding paper atop the book they belong to. “Why don’t you try this one?” The way he says it is so full of expectation, leaning down to hand you a page and you can only smile up at him.

“I’ll give it a try.” You sputter out for words to say, taking the page from him gratefully.

Seungmin watches from a distance, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity as he observes his usually quiet friend speak more words than usual. Though, the observation makes his heartstrings contract.

It goes on like this for a while, silence engulfing the pair of you as you worked to repair the books together. Hyunjin showed no signs of you being a bother to him, even reaching out to help most of the time—appreciative of your time. No sound follows, just the beating of your hearts and the rustling of paper.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin fic #skz hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin x reader #stray kids oneshots #stray kids long fic #skz x reader fic #skz x you

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swallowtail-ageha · 6 months

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Scrolling through your asoiaf tag and you have such good and correct opinions like how can anyone love just Dany or just Sansa or just Arya like how can anyone not see the parallels between Dany and Sansa it makes me feel so crazy like why are there so few people who love all the girlies?? I genuinely love every single female POV character and can’t imagine hating any of them. I mean sure yeah Cersei is a villain but you’re telling me her tragedy doesn’t touch your heart? Watching this woman desperately try to avoid her prophecy as it unfolds before you doesn’t have you in a death grip? Or like are you unmoved by Sansa telling an annoying snotty little boy how brave he is because she wants him to feel better? Dany comforting Missandei when her brother dies? Arya getting to the house of the black and white and immediately thinning to being a man a cup of water (or at least what she thought was water)? How about Sansa telling Joffrey she hopes Robb cuts his head off? Dany sassing the man who wants to open the fighting pits? Arya telling Jaquen to kill himself? Like please come on. All three girls are obviously different but they share so many very endearing traits. I am fiercely holding tight to my delusion that Dany and Sansa will bond over stories and songs and Arya will teach Dany about all the flowers in Westeros and then Sansa will show them how to make flower crowns and embroider little emblems on Arya’s clothes

First of all tysm!!!!

The whole arya vs sansa vs dany fandom fight frustrates me to no end, mainly because all parties involved seem to have little to no empathy to the characters whose stans they oppose. It's all maliciously extrapolating some parts of the text to make them see worse than what they are (ex: daenerys' "if i look back i am lost" getting twisted from "dany knows that dwelling on what ifs and turning your back after you have taken a commitment will only damage you in the long term" in "dany doesn't want to reflect on her past mistakes and will go mad and get stabbed to death" or sansa getting frustrated at sweetrobin being a sign of her being ableist and classist while it's. Just a normal reaction of a stressed and traumatized 13 yo who is otherwise very sweet to her cousin)

For loving the female characters same! Even those who commit outwardly villainous acts do get lots of humanizing moments, Cersei, as awful as she is, is simply a product of the hyper misogynistic society she lives in plus years of parental and spousal abuse (and the doomed by prophecy vibes) and. I genuinely don't get how people can look at the walk of shame and say it's a fitting punishment to her crimes

Overall all the hate for female characters that are more complex or more driven or more morally ambiguous than what most female characters are presented as in other media in a fandom who (supposedly) prides itself in liking morally ambiguous characters is.. frustrating, really. I blame both fandom misogyny but also the GoT series, as it's outright changes in female character's actions and stories to make them look better or worse than what they originally were skewered the visions of almost everyone in the fandom (arya is an egregious victim of this. Scenes such as her caring for Weasel or her befriending sex workers in braavos don't exist and they added that "all girls are idiot" scene that i hate and they removed all her plan to free the northmen from harrenal and she got turned from traumatized child to hashtag no one super cool assassin and her character got straight up murdered in the tv series.)

Oh and also for kickstarting the whole jonsa vs jonerys thing which i'm pretty sure is the origin of the stupid dany vs sansa wars

And yes!! Dany Sansa and Arya should get to meet and reunite! While i do think that there will be some slight tensions between Sansa and Arya because they left on Not So Well terms, they have also matured a lot, so i do think they would have an heartfelt reunion. Meanwhile Dany and Arya could bond because of both their connection to Braavos and Arya's admiration for those who free slaves, and Dany would empathize (and feel a common ground) with Sansa for her being a child who had all her family die and got married extremely young while beeing creeped on by older men, while Sansa, who is shown to admire women like Margaery or Myranda, who are shown to be very keen regarding politics or social issues, something that Dany is

In the end, i genuinely hope that all three of these traumatized little girls get their happy ending and none of them dies, they all are interesting and complex characters that share parallels with each other, and it sucks that because of stupid ship wars or discussions on who would get the throne they get pitted against each other. THEY WOULD BE FRIENDS Y'ALL

#anyways i am holding onto the hope that ADoS ends with dany legalizing gay marriage and marrying sansa #sorry if it gets super rambly and incoherent anon because i always tend to do this when i get an ask #i just want to tell you that your ask made my day and it was all on point!!!! i hope you have a nice week month year life #asoiaf

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credince--writes · 1 year

Text

Jitters, Chapter 1 (Remastered)

Chapter One: Security Protocol

Jitters is a PMC brought onto the support 141 operations, much to the distaste of the 141 group of PMC's.

The Remastered version of the original Jitters.

A/N:

Welcome to the rewrite guys! I actually will have my shit together this time, so that means tag lists will be happening! Lmk if you wanna be on it *as I sensually waggle my eyebrows at you*

This wasn't the first time she was sent out to a base.

This was probably the third, actually.

Laswell would send her where she was needed, so a lot of the time she found herself drifting around. She'd be stationed somewhere, finish up the needed task, and then run back to Laswell like a lap dog waiting to go fetch the ball again.

It sucked,

but so would sitting in a jail cell, so this would have to do.

The particular team she was stationed with was once again some kind of special force needing someone behind a screen that knew what they were doing, mainly to route them through a complex series of tunnels while avoiding security systems. Shutting off power when necessary.

Teaming up with some British team, she couldn't exactly remember the name she was too busy directing Sergeant Dumbass through a tunnel.

"You're going to have a series of laser security systems roughly twenty feet in front of you. Big red door next to it. Don't pass it until I give you the clear." Jitters spoke into her microphone.

"How the hell do you know it's red?" There was a gruffness to his voice, there always was whenever she spoke to the special forces guys- always a bit of a ruggedness at the edge of their voice as they’d trudge through shitty abandoned building after the next. She supposed after long enough they were in it for the thrill- when the glamorized ‘saving the world’ complex wore off. Hunting for adrenaline, pushing until the blood pounding in your ears gave the high they were searching for.

"I'm looking at you. I can see your bald spot." She responded, sighing after the mic cut off and leaning back in her chair.

It was as if they’d never really believe her- as she watched overhead. Either from their trackers or through the cameras scattered throughout a building.

The man she was observing through the screen turned around to face the camera and flipped it off before following his directed path.

"Alright... Hang tight for a moment please." She says, tapping into a separate comm unit.

"Miles this is Jitters, what is the status?"

"Dealing with some issues." His voice calmly- too calmly replied. The kind of shutoff you layer over when something is going wrong and before everything goes to shit.

"What kind of issues?" She cranes her neck over, glancing at the wall that separated the two of them. Her eyes narrowed on the concrete as if she were ready to melt through it-

But it was always like this, and even though she was confident that it would be resolved, that everything would be ok in the end. The tremor in her hands always found itself present, the jittering of her fingers on the keyboard as the anxiety and adrenaline started flowing.

She could never understand why people would seek it- the feeling of adrenaline in their veins.

"They're being resolved don't worry about it." His clipped voice spoke again.

"Miles I have three minutes before I lose stability on my end. Whatever issues you're running into need to be resolved fast."

There was silence on the other end.

It always died into silence.

…

That wasn't the last time Miles had become a major threat to the welfare of a mission, that and pain in her ass. It wasn't that he was totally incompetent- just enough that he was constantly putting teams in danger. A combination of spite and pride. Something she was familiar with, as much as she’d stuff it deep down and ignore it.

Constantly putting people in danger, either because he was still too bull-headed to accept help when she was trying to give it or was trying to prove himself in some respect.

That was until the current team they were assisting left, leaving the two of them with the base squad while another task force was brought in.

It was always some kind of task force- special operations unit, reacted names, and masked faces.

She had heard in rumors around the base that this Task Force- 141 is what it was called was something different. She was never given any real background on the teams, or redacted information but enough to get by to understand the premise of the operations. They were put on the real dirty jobs. The things that needed to be kept quiet.

Things she always ended up in her lap.

She was disposable- not that Laswell would ever explicitly say it.

She’d never be a liability because she no longer had the same ‘free will’ another had.

There was no going home,

Only the next mission.

The next dirty job.

She realized this when she was put into a separate briefing room from the rest of the squad she was stationed with. She was going to know more sensitive information, her and Miles, that is.

It was a pretty simple mission, but from what she understood very bloody on one end. It was infiltrating an enemy base, force, or stealth.

Whatever was necessary.

The day 141 arrived she was sitting on a crate fidgeting with one of the radios a private had brought up to her needing to be fixed. The pleading looks on his face to keep it quiet before his Sergeant found out and ripped him a new one. She didn't know what was up with them, but they seemed absolutely prone to breaking things in the most moronic ways. Made sense though, she saw a group of them dragging a fellow private around the warehouse floor as a mop.

The sound of a helicopter landing could be heard in closer proximity than normal, and the rolling doors opened to reveal the awaiting squad.

One thing Jitters always found amusing was the strange choices of hair, facial hair, or not that the men in the military would choose. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Miles approach, his chest puffed out in an attempt to stand taller as he approached her.

"I want Skull." He said.

She quirked a brow. "Bet he'll chew you up n' spit you out." She responded.

"Masked ones are always important." He responded. "You can take whatever team the skull guy isn't on."

"Hm." Leaning back and resting her hand against the crate trying to push down the dread that always seemed to rise up in her throat like bile when a new mission was presented. They were definitely observant, they had to be or they would be dead. Scanning and surveying the room. She watched as a grown-ass man with a mohawk stared at the two of them.

She matched his gaze, returning his intensity before he blinked and looked away. Miles had already left her side, walking to the debriefing room where the new arrivals were headed too. She sighed and stood up, following Miles to the room where the men had already gathered and seated around the table. Peeking her head in after Miles, she stepped in.

"Right on time you too." She heard Lt. Gulch say, he was heading the front of the table. Getting ready to explain new developments that had occurred in the last hour or so- papers scattered below on the table. Manila folders and ramblings in his oh-so-familiar chicken scratch tacked to the walls.

Jitters settled at the back of the table, sitting next to a man with a unibrow of a mustache on his face while Miles scurried over to sit in the general proximity of the masked giant at the table. There was a tension within the room- which was to be expected. The task forces were one and the same, usually tight-knit groups of men who would rather die than put their lives in the hands of someone they weren’t familiar with- someone they didn’t know they could trust.

Gulch began to lecture on about developments, explaining that the team would be split into two. One going from under, another storming in from the top of the building to sandwich in the center, then moving on to secure multiple other locations. Usual clearing tactics, no NVG, quick and dirty if need be, but keep it as clean as possible in respect to making cleanup easier. The navigation of the building would be difficult- security constantly changing but a recent finding of a lack of protection in their digital space provides an opportunity for them to breach.

"Which is why we have these two here today, one will be assigned to each of your teams. I'll allow you to choose as they will be a part of your respective teams for the next week." Gulch continued.

She always dreaded this part.

Introductions.

As if they really cared about who they were, and what they really did. Moreso once they understood what she was, her presence here.

Not that they’d ever question it, it seemed that all of them were connected one way or another to Laswell, and with her ‘stamp’ of approval, or ownership they wouldn’t ask many more questions.

Miles stood up, introducing his name and rank, and then sat down.

Jitters looked at him, then looked around the room not bothering to stand up. Avoiding every contact and trying to keep her voice even level. Not to stand and show the shake of her hands and the anxiety that these introductions always brought her. "They call me Jitters."

There were a few questionable glances given in response. Mustache piping up from next to her. "What about your Name & Rank?"

Gulch piped in. "Classified, and Jitters is a PMC sent in specifically for this assignment."

She watched as Mowhawk sat back in his chair and grumbled something to Skullface. Before he piped up. "Why is there a PMC on this job, do we not have techs?"

"Laswell had her sent in specifically, I'm under higher orders from General Spots, and advisement of Laswell. Which I don't plan on ignoring, is that a problem MacTavish?"

Mowhawk MacTavish sighed, and sat back. "No. Ghost and I will take Miles then."

Skullface nodded.

Apparently, his name was Ghost.

Mustache nodded, "Alright then. Jitters." He said with a little bit of hesitancy. "You, Gaz, and I will be the second team infiltrating from the top of the building once our first steps are secured."

She gave him a nod. "Is this still a pack & pull operation? Two, one, and gather?" She asked to the inhabitants of the room.

"Yes," Gulch started. "Team two will be in the field for two days while Team one remains in the field for one, returns to drop off, then stays until Team one meets back. Both teams will then follow to finish in one day- or however long it takes to fulfill the remaining objectives."

Jitters leaned back in her seat. "Are they aware of how it's going to work?" She nods her head back to the man behind her.

Gulch shrugs a little. "Was hoping you could explain, you start losing me when you're going on about satellites."

“Well-” She opened her mouth to speak.

"I can." Miles volunteers, standing up, cutting her off with the ever-present smirk on his lips.

"We are going to be equipping you all with specialized comms' routed through one of our satellites for this mission. We will be able to remotely access cameras throughout your route and give information as needed. Once you reach your target point, question and deal with the target then we will work on acquiring intel in either of these two points." He points behind him at the map. "Once the initial is finished, your teams will separate once more to finish out delegated tasks. The comm. systems are separated to further security, so all traffic will need to be routed through us."

"Why will our comms be separated?" Gaz asks.

"Well…" Miles pauses, faltering for a moment to gather his words.

Skullface scoffs.

She could see the embarrassment burn knot Miles face, hands clenching together at his sides.

"It's in case one of you is KIA, or have your communications compromised. Doesn't compromise both groups, keeps it segregated into one team." Jitters bumps in, shooting a side glance to Miles as his head snapped over to glare. "Miles also forgot to mention the lockout segments of the map where no one will be able to get any communications out. From what we know they lined these segments well enough to half any communication traffic through their walls. You'll all have to resort to more unique means of keeping the communication line open."

"Enlighten us." Ghost said, crossing his arms.

"One of each of your team is going to have to secure access to the vent system once you gain access to the fortified rooms. Your partner will be able to hear you through the vent, and the partner inside the vent will be able to further communicate."

"I won't fit in a vent," MacTavish says matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure you'll manage." Gaz replied.

The door opened, and one of the other Luitenants’ heads popped in "Jitters, you're needed immediately." There was that tone of urgency- not one of dire the world is going to end.

No, that was usually the pre-mission ass-chewing.

Gulch shot a glare. "What is it?"

"Laswell is on the line right now." They responded.

"God Damn it." Jitters groaned. Standing up and turning "Yea, Yea, I'll be there in a second. Miles finish where I left off and don't forget half."

He glared in response.

...

Had the call been important? Not really. It was more as if her mother had called to give her a preliminary chewing out before she was sent off to summer camp. Finishing off the call with "Don't let anything get in the way of this mission."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Walking out of the private room she was pulled into the take the call with Laswell, mind running through the different scenarios of things going wrong and how to fix them all before they actually happened. Taking a stride down the hallway as something bumped into her shoulder. Looking over she was met at an equal height with Miles.

"Don't. Ever." He pushed her shoulder against the wall and leaned up to her, "Pull what shit again in a meeting again." She could feel the heat of his breath on her skin, the venom that dripped out of his words, and the anger that flashed in his eyes when he spoke. She almost wanted to laugh- him making a fool of himself in the briefing and acting big and strong and smart. Only for it to blow back up in his face.

Did she need to call him out in the meeting in the way she did?

No.

Did she do it anyways?

Of course.

"Kids. What the fuck are you doing?" They heard Gulch's voice.

"Nothing Luitenant." Miles answers quickly, before leaving.

"Captain Price and I would like a word," Gulch says nodding his head over to a door, before leading her and Price into the same meeting room as before.

"I need to know that you'll have our backs." Price says, tilting his head down to match her gaze. "We've had a... Bad track record with PMCs." There was a graveness to his tone- one that didn’t feel fabricated in the way the Captains and Luitenants and Seargants would always create to seem more serious. To try and scare someone into submission. But it felt real- a layer of pain beneath the surface of the simple words ‘bad track record’.

There was a history behind them, and it put her on edge.

It was already a losing battle gaining their trust for a short mission, but to already be put so far behind and to have this layered on top of it would spell disaster for the operation as a whole. It made dread crawl up her throat, fingers digging small crescents into her palms before sucking in a breath and leaving her tone out to portray confidence.

She shrugs. "I don't think Laswell would've sent me here if I wasn't going to cover you. I was briefed on the mission before you came here, when it was still supposed to be in the Nordics."

"How do you know Laswell?" Price asks.

Jitters looks to Gulch, nearly desperate to explain why, who shrugs in response.

Asshole.

She couldn’t- wouldn’t lay it all out on the table. It would be stupid to, and he had no reason to know, no right. It wasn’t his place, Captain or not. Even so, she could feel the cocky energy radiating off of Miles hoping to watch her stutter, to watch her fail and prove she wouldn’t be reliable for the mission.

She was sure he wanted her pulled from it.

Fake it til you make it, isn’t that what they say?

"I'm who Laswell sends out when things need to be done right… if that makes any sense." Jitters replies simply. Maybe it was a mild middle finger to Miles, who always seemed to find a hiccup and magnify it until it nearly ruined an op- but it was who she was.

She was sent to these jobs.

She read the redacted paperwork.

And she worked in the background, trudging behind a soldier to download files in the field or to hide behind a screen and direct.

Price nods. "Perfect. See you in the morning."

"Yea..." She says, watching everyone file out, leaving her in the empty room.

Waking up bright and early- it couldn't even be called that. It was nighttime. Dark. And fucking cold. That's what it was. Waking up dark and cold.

Jitters grumbled to herself, pulling on her clothes for the day and picking up two gadgets off of her work table, and making her way outside.

"Good to see you're finally up." She heard Miles say from the side of her as she walked into the warehouse where the men were suiting up.

She walked up to Gaz and Price who were prepping their weapons and gear. "Come here please." She says, rubbing her eyes.

"What's up?" Gaz asks.

Jitters reaches into her pocket and pulls out two small button-like forms. "These are vibrators- God." She groans, face heating up at the statement and realizing once the words left her mouth what a shitty idea naming them was. "Not like that though, here." She quickly adds, seeing the twitch upward in the two men’s lips. She reaches out and grabs Gaz's hand, pulling him a little closer to her. Grabbing his glove and sliding it into the center of his wrist.

"If you're in a situation that you can't verbally respond, you buzz me. I'll be asking yes and no questions. Two for no and three for yes." She explains, handing the other to Price before looking at her watch. "Example." She taps on her wrist twice, and the two men look down at the feeling of the little machine buzzing on the top of their wrists.

"I'll be asking you something along the lines of checkpoint reached. I know this is going to be a stealth operation so minimizing any potential faults in your navigation is at the height of my priority."

"Thanks, neva' had something like this before." Gaz says.

Price nods, "We will establish a connection when we reach point A."

Jitters nodded, "Copy that."

Once she had finished with Price & Gaz, she’d hung back for a moment to watch Miles sputter and suck up to the two other men. It was almost comedic- watching him try and flex his theoretical muscles of technical operations as if they really cared. "You got some brown on your nose." She comments to him.

"Fuck you."

....

After the connections were established, the teams had moved out. From what she gathered Miles was having to deal with all of the feedback from water sloshing in the comms.

Have fun with that, you prick.

Advancements on her end were made quickly and methodically, leading the team through their routes with limited enemy casualties to maintain the stealth the mission required.

Soon enough the garble could be heard over the comms.

"Entering blackout area, be advised. Notify when placement is established overhead."

She waited.

And waited.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before she felt three buzzes on her wrist.

"Establish a connection, notify when established."

Soon enough, three buzzes were felt again on her arm.

"Maintain your location until advised. Waiting for the crash."

One,

Two,

Three.

Yes.

She stood up, looking over to Miles who was frantically typing. Why was he typing? Had they already trigged a security protocol in the building? How hard was it for him not to fuck something up- for once, one time, she begged in her own mind. Just once, for everything to go smoothly.

Maybe when hell froze over.

"Miles I need an ETA."

"Dealing with complications." He mutters out.

She almost wanted to sneer back ‘all you have is complications’, but she held it back. For now.

"Miles I have limited time, sort your shit out, and do it quick."

"Location compromised," Miles yelled out, throwing his back against his chair and tossing his hands into his hair, and groaning, quickly slouching back forward to continue back on working on whatever he was frantically typing for.

"Fuck." Jitters whisper yelled. Rushing back to her desk she established a connection with Price and Gaz. "Changing plans, begin upload procedures now. You'll be seeing friends in less than five."

One,

Two,

Three.

Leaving her desk, but keeping the earpiece for her team in her ear she marched over to Miles. "Tell me what's happening."

"Triggered security protocol Alpha-3."

Her gaze hardened on him. "You're shitting me."

"No!" He whisper yelled back, trying to keep his voice quiet, even though it wasn’t calm by any means. “Why would I be shitting about that?”

"We need our eyes here Miles." She could hear the voice of Mactavish through his earpiece.

"How could you of fucked it that bad?" She asked, hand reaching up and gripping onto his chair, leaning over to take a look at his screen.

"Shut up!" Miles snapped back at her.

That horrible feeling crawled up her spine, the feeling of it like the legs of a spider creeping up to her neck. If neither of them did anything, if Miles didn’t do anything and quickly the entire operation would be a bust and not only would the current operatives in the building be in danger, but more importantly- at least to Jitters- the mission would be a failure.

And Laswell meant what she said on the call.

"Don't let anything get in the way of this mission."

Her arm reached out, grabbing Miles shoulder and pushing on it, trying to get him out of the seat while she pushed forward trying to slot her hips into the chair. "Move."

"What?" He asked, eyebrows raising as if he didn’t hear her the first time, as if her words weren't clear enough. His body pushed forward and he leaned back against it, fighting the of her hand against his shoulder by simply leaning into it and ignoring it.

"You heard me. Move." She urged again.

"Miles!" MacTavish emphasizes in his comm.

"Fuckin', move." Jitters removed her hand, sidestepping behind the chair and pushing his back forward while pulling his chair out simultaneously, his body lurhcing forward then leaning back to no longer be met with the chair, flat backing onto the floor as she quickly slid into the seat. Arms stretched out and tapping a few letters on the keyboard.

"What the fuck is going on over there." Ghost hisses through the comm.

"There is a room 200 feet to your left. It will be next to the main line in the underground system. Get there now." Jitters orders.

"What?" Mactavish asks.

"Move your ass. Now!" She all but yells into the microphone.

"Jitters how copy?" She can hear Gaz ask.

"Hold." She says, merging the two communications teams together.

"Sounded like you were fighting back there." Gaz comments.

"I was. connection established- both ends. Can you hear us?" She asks.

"Affirmative." The four men all but say in unison.

"Security protocol Alpha-3 has been activated, meaning I am going to need some coordination on both sides. Gaz I need you to slide back to where you were a bit ago- the panel with the blue lights."

"Copy."

"Price you'll need to take that cord you've got plugged into the system and remove it, ignore the lost progress it doesn't matter what matters is making sure this isn't fucked."

"Copy."

"Ghost I need you to cover while Mac' opens up the panel that should be next to the outgoing pipe. That is a centralized break. One of them should be labeled with a XX83. When I say, flip it and get ready for it to go dark. You'll need to use your night vision to move through the rest of your trajectory. We are trying to make this look like a simple malfunction in the security system. A glitch."

"In the location" Gaz affirms.

"Gaz remember those two wires I just had you cut?"

"Yes."

"I need you to cut the third to the right- white with writing on it. And You're gonna need to stick the two hot ends together. it's gonna make a light show so don't stick your head in there. Notify when complete."

She waited a few moments, nearly feeling the cold sweat collecting on her neck. The feeling of adrenaline, of anxiety creeping up and making her ears feel hot. Feeling her pulse in her fingers as her hands moved furiously to input information as needed to make sure that the mission was not compromised.

"We have inbound security patrol." Ghost replies.

"Copy. Standby." She replies.

"It's complete," Gaz Responds, a slight crackling in the background of his comms. "You were right, made a hell of a show."

"Flip it now MacTavish."

"Copy."

"Lights will be down for roughly 45 seconds. You need to move now you too. Price, plug in now."

"Copy."

"Established."

"Alright, the security system is resetting. Clear, for now, finish that download and get the fuck out of there."

She leans back in her seat, glancing over to meet the glare of Miles. Disconnecting the Coms from each other she shot him a glance. "You want your job back? Or are you gonna fuck it up again?" She sneers.

"Get out of my chair." He grits out, jaw tense as he stands.

She pulls his earpiece from her head, tossing it at him and standing. No so gently tossing his chair to the side and listening to it clatter on the ground as she makes her way back to her chair.

"Fine by me, this chair smells like shit anyways."

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