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dariwrites03 · 7 days

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Fucked up Monday.

A/n: this is the first Ellie x female reader I’ve ever written so pls be kind ??? ( let’s be real, first thing I’ve ever written ngl) Also, English isn’t my first language so excuse my mistakes. Otherwise have fun!

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748855174059130880/fucked-up-monday-23

Summary: Having Ellie as a friend is great. Having her as you’re patrol partner? Even better. Loving her though, that’s where all the problems begin. Especially since Ellie doesn’t feel the same, right?

Warnings: slightly mention of grief, anxiety,post apocalypse world!! Slightly curse words ( what’s you’re favorite curse word? Probably fuck.)

-5,9K words or something xx

The world suddenly became gray, the clouds got thicker and as the rain started to make its way down onto the dirty ground surrounding your house, you knew today was most definitely not a good day. But It's not like you didn't know that already. The last couple of days weren't great either, and that's not something you can blame on the terrible January weather.

No, partly you blame yourself for those terrible hours that turned into days you spent in front of your living room window wasting away important minutes, stuck with way too many thoughts to function. So many things you have to think over and over, without really ending up with an answer that satisfies you. And you blame her, too, for somehow making the world much darker than it already is. But deep down you knew that this wasn't the right way to go, you could not make her the center of your problems, couldn't build your own mistakes around her. But you'd like to try anyway.

Monday, only a week ago, everything was as fine as it could be, considering the circumstances. Because life in the post-apocalypse isn't always easy, because one of your closest friends, Dina, is in love with Ellie Williams. Because Ellie Williams is the girl you gave your heart many years ago.

This specific Monday,where everything went down, you were on patrol with Ellie. Over the past two months, it had become a ritual. The two of you made the best team in Jackson, using supplies judiciously and working smart and fast. Everyone could rely on you both, and you loved it. The feeling of being needed was something great. The idea of people believing and trusting you was something you wouldn't trade for anything. You loved to help, and God knows you were doing a pretty good job at it too.

That Ellie was the one assigned to you wasn't something you were mad about. You craved nothing more than the attention from the emerald green-eyed girl. Knowing that you two spent hours on patrol with nothing but meaningless conversations filling the air made life taste a bit sweeter. And Ellie felt the same way. From the moment you first exchanged words in Jackson, you both knew right away that whatever you had in your hearts for each other was too precious to let loose.

But now, that specific feeling you get whenever you think about her is probably the reason why you're scared in your living room, hiding from everything and everyone, but especially from her.

Having Ellie as your friend was incredible. You both talked about everything and always found playful words even in serious situations, lightening the burden on your minds. But being friends with her wasn't enough for you. You yearned to be closer, to have her in every way you could possibly want a human being. And that terrified you since your friend made her intentions about Dina very clear.

And having her as your patrol partner was the wisest decision Maria ever made. Even though you weren't always assigned to each other, the moments you shared on patrol were precious. The way you both moved in sync, anticipating each other's actions, spoke volumes. It was more than just duty; it was a connection that defied mere partnership.

At first,starting off new right after the parole training Tommy gave you, you were in a group with your cousin Dylan. He was a smart man, kind and caring—one of the closest people you'd ever call family. Not much older than you or your friends, but he lost his life in a fight with a bloader while the two of you went to check on an Abandoned School near Jackson. When you returned without Dylan by your side, the traumatic experience still etched into your bones, you explained the situation to Maria right away, sharing as many details as you could remember. You hoped that you wouldn't have to recount this nightmare of a story multiple times. You described to her exactly where it happened and how you somehow managed to escape, paying the price of Dylan losing his life while distracting the bloader. Maria promised to be there when you told all your family members and to send out a group of people to the building. Their mission: to finish off the bloater and retrieve whatever was left of Dylan for a somewhat respectful funeral. Something he deeply deserved.

After your conversation with Maria, she immediately called Ellie in to ask if it would be okay for her to pair with you. Returning to work wasn't something you originally had in mind, but in hindsight, Maria probably knew that working would keep your mind off things. She was also aware of the deep connection you had with Ellie. If she had assigned you to someone else, you might have been too terrified to venture close to the outside world ever again.

Ellie, however, always wanted to go on patrol with you. She hated the idea of you going with Dylan instead. It wasn't that she didn't like him; it was more that she felt like she lost control the moment the safe gates of Jackson closed, and she wasn't by your side.

The first couple of times the two of you went on patrol together were more challenging than you had anticipated. Sometimes, you believed you could still hear his screams echoing in the back of your mind. Other times, his anguished facefilled your thoughts, and you grappled with the regret of running in the opposite direction. The guilt of what you *should* have done never truly left your mind.

Maria, understanding the weight of your experience, altered the usual patrol routes for you and Ellie. She ensured that you both didn't have to cross the area where the incident with Dylan occurred. Deep down, you knew there was nothing you could have done to save Dylan, yet you couldn't help but blame yourself.

Ellie did her best to empathize, and you noticed and appreciated her efforts. While she couldn't erase all the pain, her presence made the feelings a little less overwhelming. You sensed that she was aware of this too since she let you sleep over at her place almost everyday since and somehow already knew when a new anxiety attack was about to happen without you even knowing it.However, over the past few weeks, you've been avoiding her, along with almost everyone else. The ache in your heart, triggered by thoughts of Ellie being with Dina, became too much for your frightened heart to bear. Distance seemed like the only viable solution—a way to shield yourself from the emotional storm.

On that bittersweet Monday,where the two of you headed out a little earlier than you'd prefer, the sun not yet fully awake, you embarked on a new route. Not far from Jackson, there lay a small town—one that Maria wanted both of you to investigate and "clean." With that purpose, you made your way over there.

As you and Ellie stepped into this town, its quiet streets greeted you. The air smelled of pine and nostalgia, and the sun cast long shadows across the wooden storefronts. Maria's instructions echoed in your mind.

Ellie walked beside you, her gaze scanning the facades. Her emerald eyes held a mix of curiosity and determination. You wondered what thoughts raced through her mind.

As you explored the town, you noticed faded murals on brick walls, their colors muted by time. Abandoned storefronts stood like sentinels, their windows boarded up, history locked within. The creak of a rusty swing in the town square hinted at children's laughter long gone. And somewhere, perhaps hidden in the shadows, lay the heart of this place.

With each step, you peeled back layers—the layers of dust, of stories, of forgotten dreams. The sun climbed higher, casting warmth on your shoulders.

"Hey, I thought I was funny!" Ellie's voice echoed in the back of your mind, snapping you back to reality and the conversation you and her had going on."God, Ellie, you know I love you lots, but do you have to be so weird?" you asked her, a smirk spreading across your face. "No idea what you're talking about, babe. Am I not allowed to express my love for clothing?" she said dramatically. "Not when you show up at a parole meeting wearing a cowboy hat?!" you said, laughing, recalling the expressions on Maria and Joel's faces when Ellie walked in. "It was a statement!" - "A fashion crime, that's what it was!" Your tone was amused. Ellie didn't respond to your playful jab and just shook her head, her laughter filling the air. That sound, that sweet sound you could never get enough of, made everything feel more than alright. It was just the two of you, on your horses, riding near a lake, continuing to cross the small town, laughing as if this was how it was meant to be. But the comfortable silence that enveloped both of you suddenly halted when you laid eyes on a massive, abandoned mall ahead. "Seems like we need to check this place out," Ellie said, her voice calm as she studied the map in her hands. You tightened your grip on the reins of your horse. "Alright, lead the way?" you asked her. She responded, "Already on it, princess." You rolled your eyes, but the nickname slid off you, making your heart beat faster.

Ellie dismounted her horse, handing you the reins. She strode toward the entrance, determined to open the massive door that separated you both from the darkness within. Meanwhile, you secured the horses to a nearby fence and joined Ellie, who stood waiting. "Ladies first," she quipped, making a sweeping gesture toward the freshly opened door. You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. As you prepared to step inside, Ellie's hand pulled you back. "Spores. Masks on," she mumbled, adjusting her own mask. You followed suit, the cool fabric pressing against your face. Stepping over the threshold, you moved quietly, attuned to the sounds echoing through the abandoned mall from clickers and runners. Ellie held her gun with unwavering resolve, and you mirrored her stance. Her gaze met yours, locking in a shared understanding."Try not to get bit," Ellie said, her voice low. "I don't really feel like shooting you in the head today. Maybe tomorrow, though." Her eyes crinkled, a smile hidden behind the mask. You couldn't help but grin. "Fuck you, Williams," -"Nah, I'd prefer somebody else doing it."

As the two of you make your way deeper into the building, talking nonsense quietly while finishing off Clickers on your way, A loud sound makes you and Ellie stop in your tracks. ''what the fuck was that...'' She mumbled, and you're looking past Ellie in the direction the horror sound was coming from. ''I…”You were unable to speak, move or even breathe because you recognized that sound immediately. ''Hey, are you okay?'' You heard her saying, she moved closer to you and softly grabbed your shoulder with her free hand, shifting your chest so you're looking into her direction again.'' Babe, are you okay?'' Ellie repeated her Question, looking for something in your eyes, you cannot make out. Yet again you were unable to answer, fear slowly making its way up into your lungs, preventing you from breathing properly. She was about to say something again, but she got interrupted by the sound of loud footsteps moving into your direction, revealing one of the most terrifying things this 'new' world has to offer. ''A fucking Bloader...'' Ellie's whisper recalled in your mind and without even knowing it, you're back with Dylan. You were back in the school with him by your side, you hear him screaming your name in pain, begging you to leave, you taste the blood of his on your tongue. You can't breathe. Tears started to form in your eyes, the world got blurry, and that anxious feeling from that same night made its way back into your bones. The feeling of Ellie's hands drifting away from your shoulder, just past to your underarm. Her grabbing your hand was the only thing you noticed before a jerky movement brought you back into reality. Ellie was leading you up an Escalator, running as fast as your guys lungs allowed. ''Fucking shit, we have to move, princess!'' She said, her voice demanding. You couldn't say anything, not even recognizing the nickname she gave you that normally makes your knees weak, the only thing you were able to do was moving with her, her soft hands grabbing your underarm being the only reason you were able to move in the first place.

You couldn't even notice the way Ellie ran a bit faster than you, not letting go of your hand while shooting down upcoming Runners and Clickers, snuffing out whatever life they still clung to. You couldn't even hear Ellie's words as she spoke to you, couldn't see her breaking down a random door and pushing you both inside, closing it firmly and securing it with whatever heavy material she found to lock you two in. Your mind was a whirlwind of panic, grief, and regret. You couldn't move, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to control your agonal respiration. The mask felt even more uncomfortable than it already was. Then, two soft hands carefully grabbed your face, removing the mask and gently resting on your skin. It was a lifeline back to reality.

"Babe, you're okay. We're safe. Come on, try to breathe with me, okay?"Her voice slowly penetrated your foggy brain. Your right hand automatically found her wrist, and for a moment, you tried to do what the brown-haired girl in front of you said—you tried to breathe. "Doing so good, Darling,"she encouraged. „Keep going. Focus on me, alright? Breathe in... hold it, love... okay, breathe out." The softness of her voice traveled up to your brain, dispelling the dark smoke that had clouded your thoughts. "Shit..."you whispered, not caring how pathetic you probably looked right now. Her eyes never left yours, and finally, you took your first real breath since arriving in the mall. "Yeah... that probably captures it best,"she said, her touch gentle as she caressed your cheek. She was still a bit out of breath from all the running.

You looked at her for a second longer, and for some inexplicable reason, everything didn't feel so dire anymore. Maybe it was because with Ellie by your side, you could never feel truly unsafe. A grin crept onto your face, and without bothering to hide it, you burst into laughter, tears still wetting your skin. Ellie stared at you, momentarily confused, but her expression softened. She wasn't able to hold on the grinning expression herself.

Ellie looked at you for a moment, her confusion giving way to laughter. "What the hell, the fuck was that?" you said, still chuckling. „I wish I fucking knew“ she said. Ellie's hands remained pressed against your cheeks, and you didn't mind at all. She grinned, pulling you a bit closer until her forehead rested against yours. "You feel okay, though?" she asked, her tone shifting back to concern. You replied quietly, "I'm with you, so... yeah." Ellie didn't say anything, but her touch lingered on your skin before she pulled away.

"Let's try to find a way out of here," she declared, already scanning the small store she'd barricaded you both into. Her movements were purposeful, and you appreciated her practicality. "I'm definitely not cleaning this entire mall up by myself."- „I mean, you did almost half of it already?“ you said, grinning again. „Yeah, the others can do the other half. I’m fucking done with this place.“

The closeness between you wasn't weird; it was familiar. Ellie had always been a touchable person, and you never complained. In fact, you loved the feeling of having her close—the warmth of her skin against yours. It had happened countless times before Hands touching a little too long, hugs that stretched into eternity, and mornings waking up tangled together. It was no longer something to overthink; it just was—a connection that transcended words.

You made your way through the store, noticing only just now that it used to be some sort of clothing shop. ''hey, look at that. Should I grab that for Dina?'' The voice from the opposite of the room bought your attention, you let your eyes travel their way to where your best friend is standing, holding up a basic brownish lined jacket, weirdly posing with it like she's some sort of model getting pictures taken. ''Yeah. Sure, do that.'' You said, already regretting how your voice sounded out loud. Ellie being in love with Dina wasn't news to you, you were the first person she ever told about her undeniable feelings towards Dina. That your heart shattered in about a million pieces isn't something you ever considered of telling her-You wanted to be supportive, knowing that Dina also felt the same about your best Friend. ''Is everything alright?'' Ellie said, confused by your lack of enthusiasm. ''Yeah, all good, just still, you know, fucked up from that bloader trying to rip us apart.'' You answered while pretending to look through some of the clothes. you practically didn't lie. The encounter with the bloader made you feel all weird and anxious, you were already struggling with not allowing yourself to even think about the incident and with that thing crossing your path it was almost inevitable to keep those memories locked away. Ellie looked at you as she isn't really buying it ''Hey, we don't have to leave right away. We surely can take a break?'' she suggested, making her way over to you. ''A break does sound fucking nice.'' You said, giving the slightly taller girl a tired smile. Ellie nodded at you, nudging your shoulder with hers while walking past you. Now opening a gray door behind the cash register with the words ''Employees only.'' written on lined paper.

Entering the common room was more than disappointing. Although there was an old sofa welcoming your stay, Ellie and you must've shared the same idea because before you could even make a step towards the in dark blue colored sofa, Ellie already dropped her body on it with a load groan. "Fuck you, move your ass over, El.'' You said, smirking as you moved to the small space. She looked up at you, her face blessed with another grin as she crossed her arms behind her head. ''Nah, I'm quite comfortable, thanks for suggesting it though!'' She closed her eyes and moved around on the cheap looking fabric to find the most comfortable position. ''Oh yeah? I mean, you wanted this. Practically dared me to do it'' You said. One of her closed eyes opened „what do you mean?“ she said. Without saying another word you set yourself as carefully as you can down on her lab. Ellie, on the other hand, dramatically lifted her upper body up, pretending to cough for much-needed air ''Help!! Help!! Doctor, I Can't breathe!'' Her arms went in every direction, making it seem like she's struggling to move, "c'mon, fuck you, I'm not even using my full body weight!" You said defending yourself. "Okay, okay, I'm done for. Dead, you won this round, you're officially the “Ellie defeater”.now get down!" She said, laughing as she gently pushed you from her lap. As you got up, Ellie actually made some space for you to sit down, which you did almost immediately. You lean your head against the wall behind you and look at your best friend now sitting leg crossed facing you. "You actually feeling okay tho?" she' asked for what felt like a million times today, which brought a small honest smile onto your face „yeah, as okay as I can be. Seeing that thing did bring some memories back, if rather forget. Thanks for saving me though" you said, playing with the strands of your jacket. „Yeah, glad to be your savior when time gets rough. You owe me one" she said, grinning. "Yeah, sure I owe you" you said. „Totally. Hmm," she said, pretending to think "what could you possibly do for me to regard me for saving your life?" with a grinning face she looked you up and down, and you knew immediately that what your friend had in mind wasn't something that's going to turn out good. „What are you thinking right now? Should I be scared?"- ''Don't know yet.'' Ellie said, lifting her body into a more comfortable sitting position."How about... I ask you a question, and you'll answer truthfully?" Ellie's words carried a weight of seriousness, and you couldn't help but feel anxious. "I'm always honest?" you replied, looking at her, bluffing with your answer. You knew that you weren't always honest, but you kept your own truth close to your heart because it wouldn't change the outcome anyway. Survival often required pretty white lies.

"Cut the bullshit. Okay, so... why are you avoiding Dina all of a sudden?" The question caught you off guard, and you looked at your best friend as if you'd just seen your dead cousin dancing with a Clicker in the distance. "What? I'm not?" you said, knowing Ellie wouldn't buy your bluff. "Hey, you promised to answer truthfully," she insisted, making you roll your eyes. "I never said I'll answer." You shrugged your shoulders, and Ellie gave you a slightly annoyed look.

"Babe... be honest," her voice calm and almost a whisper, her body leaning against the sofa frame. "Dina and I talked about this. She feels insecure, like she's done something wrong. And thinking about it, I feel like you've been avoiding me as well. The only time I ever see you is on patrol. It used to be more, you know? We barely talk. I think it's rather sad. Have I done something? Has Dina made you uncomfortable? Don't give me that look, love. I'm trying to understand you." Her voice shifted from calm to confused, and you knew right away that Ellie wouldn't let this go until she knew the real reason for your distance.

"No... Dina did nothing wrong."It's the only thing you're able to answer. You look down at your hand, playing with the matching bracelet you share with Ellie. „Did I do something...?"you hear her whisper, her voice filled with insecurity. Your heart clenches at the thought of being the reason why Ellie's overthinking her behavior. So, before you can overthink your next move, you look up to her. You move your body a bit closer and lay your hand on her knee, comfortably caressing the fabric of her skinny jeans.

"No... God, of course not. You did nothing wrong. It's just... it's me."Her eyes meet yours, and you know right then and there that you're fucked, unable to lie with her eyes looking at you like that. „What is it, then?"she whispers, resting her own hand on yours. The touch makes you feel like you need to run away as fast as possible. „I... I'm hurt, okay?"You say it with all the honesty in your heart. „Hurt? From what? Dina and I didn't—"You don't let Ellie finish her sentence. Instead, you get up from the comfortable sofa and run your hands over your face. "... this is exactly why I don't want to talk to either of you!"You're now standing in the middle of the room, looking at Ellie who remains in the same sitting position. Her eyes follow you as you pace the small common room.

"You and Dina, all day... when I hang out with you, you only tell me how beautiful she is, how perfect you guys are together, and how deeply in love you are. If I hang with D, it's the same fucking story."Your voice shakes with all the built-up anger inside of you. You're well aware that you don't have the right to be mad about those two people falling in love. You've never even addressed your feelings to anyone else except your mirror at 3 am. How are Ellie or Dina supposed to know that it's ripping you apart? "And what's your problem with that? And did Dina really say she’s into me too?" Ellie asks, and you couldn't help the tears already welling up in your eyes again. "Yes, she did, Ellie. You know she feels the fucking same," you say, your voice breaking into a desperate whisper.

"Hey, the fuck?" Ellie's voice is already alarmed with worry as she gets up to walk those three more steps, entering your personal space again. Her hand reaches for yours, but you subtly step away from her, your back slightly hitting the white wall behind you. "Love, what? Why are you crying? What does Dina feeling the same have to do with you avoiding us?" She asks, her eyes showing some sort of disappointment the second you stepped away from her."Just... forget it, okay? I don't want to talk about it." You mumble, your voice breaking. "But I want to talk about it." Ellie's eyes never leave yours until you look down at your dirty, almost broken Converse shoes. "Ellie, just leave it b—" You get interrupted by Ellie's sharp voice cutting you off. "For fucks sake, can you be fucking honest for once? I don't get your fucking problem. You don't talk, you ignore me and Dina, and now you're saying it's because Dina and I are falling for each other? I thought you're fucking happy for me! Like a best friend should be! I don't understand you, really, I don't." Her voice grows louder with every word. You try to say something again, but you can't bring yourself to talk. You notice Ellie walking toward you again, the wall behind you failing your escape. You felt anger rushing over you, mixed with regret and.. disappointment.

"How about you finally say what you think, huh? Can't go around treating your friends badly because you have some weird jealousy problems. It’s not my fault you don’t have other friends besides me”She's mad, and you know she doesn't understand your reasoning for drifting away from her. Deep down, you also know she's just hurt and, more importantly, scared of losing you.

"...Why are we still talking about this?" You say, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you look into her eyes. She's already looking at you, and god, she's close—too close. "We're going to talk about this until you tell me what's going on." Tears continue to stream down your face for the second time today but this time not because you were sad. You were angry, without even being sure at who you’re angry at.You shake your head, not wanting to answer, and begging to whatever is above you to somehow make Ellie drop the entire topic. ''No, no, you'll answer me right now. What the hell is wrong with you?'' Her hands grabbing your shoulders, pressing your body more against the wall behind you. „You already know it anyways, now let go of me.'' You said, although you were not even trying to pushing her away. ''Not until you answer me with your own words. I Can do this all day'' She said. ''fuck,els, you don't want to know, okay? Just forget it, let me go and let's get the hell out of here''-''So that you can ignore me again? Hell no, we're having this talk now even if it's the last thing I’ll do'' She demanded. ''I don't know what you want from me right now, Ellie!'' you said, voice rising as well with every new word leaving your lips. ''The truth! Why the fuck are you avoiding us?!'' You closed your eyes, taking all that bravery you have left inside you to speak the next heart wracking words filled with honesty. ''Because I Can't handle you falling for somebody else. Because knowing you want her breaks my fucking heart, because I want to be the girl you think about, talk about, dream about! Because I fucking love you, okay?! I’m sorry!” You looked at her, eyes scared, like a little puppy. She didn't answer but didn't let go of your shoulder either. ''you happy now?'' You said and before Ellie could prevent it, you took the moment of her confusion as a way to escape her grip, pushing her away slightly. That movement was the wake-up call Ellie needed because she grabbed your shoulder again just to push you into almost the same position, back pressed against the cold wall.

And suddenly, you waited—waited what felt like ages—for the eclipse of her cutting words to happen. You anticipated her telling you to never talk to her again, accusing you of selfishness, and lamenting the ruin of a perfectly good friendship. But instead, there was silence. The only sound that reached your ears was her deep breathing, mirroring your own. And in that hot, suspended moment, you feared she could hear your heart beating, laid bare and vulnerable for her to either take or break. You studied her face intently, fear gripping your heart. Scared of what you might find in her expression. She does the same. Ellie's eyes traced every contour, mapping your features as if committing them to memory. And then, abruptly, her gaze halted. It rested on your lips-

"What are you doing?" you barely whispered, your voice a fragile thread in the charged air. The brown-haired girl lifted her gaze to meet your eyes once more, only to trace a deliberate path back down to your lips. A soft, almost imperceptible pressure settled against your chin, her hands holding you in place. Her thumb danced gently over your bottom lip, igniting a flutter of anticipation within you. You swallowed, the moment hanging suspended—a fragile bridge between friendship and something more you’re not ready to cross. "Ellie..." you murmured, the syllables almost lost in the charged silence. Her face drew closer to yours, breaths mingling, and before you could draw your next breath, her lips crashed onto yours without further hesitation. A simple kiss, yet it ignited a cosmic explosion within you. Her lips on yours transformed the quietude into a kaleidoscope of colors. Every rational thought in your brain was stripped away, replaced by her presence—the warmth of her hand still cradling your chin, the delicate shift as it left your shoulder to encircle your waist. Your fingers, guided by instinct, wove through her tousled hair, pulling her closer. Because when it's Ellie, close is never close enough.

As you finally convinced yourself to pull away, the air around you seemed to shimmer with heat. But your brain? It was a tangle of wordless wonder, unable to string coherent thoughts together. So, without hesitation, you drew her back into your space, pressing your soft lips against hers once more.

———————————————————

The ride back was weird. The air around the two of you, once filled with comfortable silence, had shifted. Now, it hung heavy with unspoken words, a chasm between you that seemed insurmountable.

After the kiss, neither of you said much. You swiftly wiped away your tears on the gray sweater you wore—a piece that belonged to Dylan, a memory of another time. Ellie, unable to meet your gaze, chose the only sensible course of action: finding a way out of the mall, escaping the charged atmosphere that clung to you both. Escaping you. And so, you found a backdoor, a clandestine escape from the weirdness that had enveloped you both. Even as you stepped into the outside world, a part of you wished you could linger within those walls a little longer. The horse up front awaited you, and you mounted it, riding away from the mall. The silence between you and Ellie weighed heavily, an unspoken question echoing: Why did it all become so weird?

Embarrassment clung to the silence, and you wondered what comfort you had once found in the noise—the cacophony of everyday life. But answers eluded you. As you returned to Jackson, Ellie by your side, you led the horses back to the stable. Maria received a brief explanation about the situation inside the building, her eyes curious but respectful. And then, without uttering a single word, you and Ellie went your separate ways. The silence remained, a chasm that neither of you dared to bridge.

This was 2 Days, 5 Hours and 54 Minutes ago. But who's Counting, right?

Ever since then, knowing you had three days off parole with her, you barricaded yourself at home. Maria didn't question it; she probably assumed it was because the bloader brought back too many memories. You certainly wouldn't correct her on that theory. Instead, you settled by the big window in your living room, watching raindrops trace their paths on the glass. But it couldn’t it stay that way and you knew eventually you'd have to talk to her, face her, and work with her. You didn't want things to become even more awkward than they already were. So you prepared yourself for a long, difficult talk.

With what felt like hours of convincing yourself and an argument you played out in your head, you got up and made yourself look presentable again. Leaving the comfort of your house, you took a little walk around the built neighbourhood in Jackson, pondering what you'd even say to her. Instead of taking the short road leading directly to Ellie's safe four walls, you made your way to one of the information stations across town, just to have a quick look at next week's schedule.

Arriving there, you meet a friendly face: Sophia. She's almost like Maria's right hand, diligently putting up new lists every week. You give her a small smile, though the turmoil inside you threatens to spill over. Her pitying look doesn't go unnoticed. Your eyes scan the handwritten list, searching for your and Ellie's names, followed by the assigned route. But something catches your attention: Ellie's name isn't next to yours anymore; it's now paired with Dina. You blink, thinking it's some cruel, messed-up joke. Your eyes dart around, seeking your initials, and there they are—next to Jesse.

"What the hell?" you mumble, the confusion swirling in your mind. Sophia approaches, sensing your distress. "Can I help you with anything?" she asks, her voice gentle. You hesitate, then blurt out, "Why am I assigned with Jesse instead of Ellie? Is this some sick joke?"

Regret tinges your voice; it's not Sophia's fault. Mistakes happen, right? She shifts uncomfortably, glancing at You. "Oh, Maria didn't talk to you yet?" she says, reading your expression. "Uhm, Williams, here." She points to the list, where Ellie's name is scrawled in an unsteady handwriting. "Asked Maria to switch parole partners... I don't know why," Sophie mumbles, fear evident in her eyes on how you'd take the news.

You turn to the door hearing a cracking sound, and there's Maria, striding toward you with multiple papers in hand.

"Maria, what the—" Your words catch in your throat. Maria's weathered face meets your gaze. "Hey, sweetie, don't give me that look," she says gruffly. "I tried to talk Ellie out of it, but she insisted on changing partners. Didn’t even gave me an explanation but I could tell she was serious. And since you and Jesse are friends as well, I thought it wouldn't make much of a difference. He can help you out” she said, making it sound like not a big deal.

She insisted on changing.

The words hang in the air, a sledgehammer to your already fragile heart. Is this how it’s going to be from now on? What are you supposed to do?

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pinknightsinmymind · 11 months

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I feel like abby would be so caring and gentle if you ever needed to use your safeword 🥺 n she would make sure you knew she wasn’t disappointed in you if u can’t tell i’m projecting my feelings about my shitty relationship and living vicariously thru fictional characterssss

【 safe words & aftercare - abby anderson | semi-NSFW 】

abby anderson x fem!reader

NSFW CONTENT DOWN BELOW MDNI

wc: 2.3k

content: established relationsip, strap-on usage, doggy style, use of pet names(love, babe, baby, etc.), use of safe word(traffic light system), LOADS OF FLUFF, caring gf abby, reassurance, cuddling, abby takes care of you, showering together(very sweet no smut involved here), abby tackling her own intimacy issues, aftercare, abs being the best gf ever🥺

a/n: anon i'm so sorry you've experienced that :(( you don't deserve that and you 1000000000% deserve better always and pls never forget that you are worth so much and deserve so much more i hope this little oneshot is able to offer you some comfort and that you enjoy it. <333 also! only the first two paragraphs are nsfw but i'm still going to consider this nsfw and include that in the contents bc this is for the grown folks

Usually, you could take whatever Abby dished, and you loved to, but today was different. Maybe you were just a little too tired, especially after going on patrol this morning, and the room just felt too hot. It was too much for you, and as much as you wanted to keep going for Abby, you just couldn’t. You had been in the mood earlier, so excited for Abby to take you from the back with her strap, but you felt too tired to keep going. With all these things adding up, you could feel yourself growing less wet, and the friction from her strap was starting to hurt. Your face was buried in the pillows as Abby’s hips hammered into you from behind, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing throughout the room. You loved her, and you loved this, but you just weren’t feeling it today.

“Abby?” you asked. You were tearing up and sniffling from the pain, and you spoke too quietly because of it. “Abby!” you repeated, louder than before. “Red!” Abby immediately stopped moving and pulled out of you quickly. The word had shocked her out of whatever she had been thinking. Whatever motivations she may have had to continue with what she was doing disappeared automatically. You had never used your safe word before, and she was scared. Were you okay? Did she hurt you? Did she accidentally do something you didn’t like? Was something wrong? She hurriedly unfastened the harness from around her hips, throwing it onto the ground as you collapsed onto the bed. She hurried to your side, her eyes assessing your face almost immediately.

“You okay, love? Are you alright with me touching you?” she asked. You nodded, and her hands came up to cup your face. She could see the tears in your eyes and the small streaks left behind from the ones that had already fallen.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she said. She watched as more tears fell down your face and wiped them away with her thumb. “What’s the matter? You can tell me, honey, it’s alright.”

“I’m just not feeling it today, Abs. I’m just—I’m too tired, and it was starting to hurt.”

“That’s okay, love. It happens, and that’s alright. Just tell me what you need.”

“Can you hold me?” you asked, on the verge of sobbing.

“Of course, baby, come here.” Abby pulled the covers from underneath your bodies and settled into the mattress next to you, covering you both with the blanket. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, your bare body pressed into hers, and you buried your face in the crook of her neck. You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. Maybe you were more stressed and tired from patrols than you thought, and perhaps this had been building up for a while now. You felt safe in Abby’s arms, but you couldn't help but remember that this was the first time you had ever used a safe word with her before. Your partnership was fairly new, and although she was being so kind to you, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you had disappointed her somehow. What if she was annoyed with you? What if this was making her look at you differently? The thoughts left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Abs,” you whispered. “Are you mad at me? Have I disappointed you?” She halted the hand that had been caressing your skin, so taken aback by the question you had asked.

“Wh—Mad? Why would I be mad at you, baby?” She craned her neck to look down at where you had your face nestled into her.

“Because I used our safe word,” you explained. “We had to stop because of me.”

“No. No, baby, I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you. Never. You and your wellbeing are more important to me than having sex. If you want to stop, we stop. I’d never be mad at you for using a safe word. If anything, I’m proud of you for using it.”

“Really?” you sniffled. Abby delivered one last caress to your back before moving her hand to pet your head.

“Yes, love. I’m so proud of you. Always. I’m here to take care of you, remember?”

“Yeah,” you answered. You were quiet for a moment before speaking up again. “I think I was just too tired and stressed out for anything today.”

“And that’s okay,” Abby reassured you. “You know Isaac’s an asshole who works us to the bone.” You could tell Abby was trying to lighten the mood, so you nodded your head in response. You appreciated her efforts. “But that’s what I’m here for, yeah? I’m here to take care of you no matter what, so just tell me what you need.” You couldn’t stop the sobbing once it started and hid your face in her shoulder as she continued to hold you. “Shh, shh, it’s okay,” she whispered. “I got you. Let it all out.”

You weren’t even crying from stress or exhaustion anymore, but rather from how loved Abby made you feel. You had never been treated so delicately, so carefully before, more used to casual hookups than something as tender and as real as this. It was hard to come by and experience gentleness in this world, but here you were feeling it reverberate through your bones in Abby’s arms. The feeling was overwhelming. You had never felt so safe and secure before, so sure that she would take care of you like she promised. Abby made you feel cherished, made you feel like you could count on her. You knew without a doubt that you could trust her, that she was someone you wanted to be with for a long time. She was so kind, so caring, more than anyone could ever know, but you did. You knew, and you could feel her kindness through the soft touches she left on your skin. Abby was still holding you as tightly as ever even after you had calmed down. To you that meant everything. It showed you that she was still here, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

“How are you feeling, love?” she asked.

“Better,” you answered.

“That’s good. That’s what I want to hear.”

“You take such good care of me,” you said quietly.

“Because I love you,” she said simply. She said it like she was stating a fact, like it was an absolute truth, like it was the easiest thing in the world. That simplicity hit you in the chest like a ton of bricks. To have someone love you the way she did… The overwhelming nature of it made your heart ache with love.

“I love you, too,” you replied, doing your best to fight the tears. You didn’t want to cry again, but, God, did Abby have that effect on you.

“Tell you what,” Abby proposed. “Me and you, we’re gonna shower, okay? Then after our shower, I’m going to make you dinner, and we can spend the rest of the night cuddling. I know you’re off tomorrow, so I’ll ask some favors, get someone to cover for me, and you can have me all to yourself tomorrow. How does that sound?”

“Good,” you replied. Your eyes were welling up again. “I’d like that a lot. You’re the best, Abs.” Your voice was wobbly, and you were doing your best to hide it, but Abby was too observative.

“Baby,” she cooed. “It’s okay. Don’t cry. You’re alright. Everything’s okay.”

“I know,” you said.

“I’ll go start our bath for us, okay?” she said. She kissed the top of your head before pulling away, escaping from underneath the covers to make her way to your bathroom. You relaxed into the pillows as you watched Abby pass through the door frame and disappear into the next room. You could hear the water running, and she stayed in there for a while as she drew the water. When Abby returned, she uncovered you and helped you out of bed. You followed her into the bathroom, your eyes immediately landing on the placid and welcoming bath. It was filled about halfway, and you figured that was because of the fact the two of you would be sitting within the water. You were both naked already, so all you had to do was step into the hot water and let it soothe your skin. It was comforting to sink into the warm water and just relax, Abby taking her place behind you. She kissed your shoulder as she grabbed a nearby towel and rubbed her favorite pine soap on it. She wasn’t oblivious—she knew just how much you liked smelling like her. She rubbed the towel around your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones, your stomach and chest, before moving to clean your back. The warm water and Abby’s touches worked wonders to relax your muscles as she took her time to bathe you. It was sweet, and it was tender, and you never knew love like this existed. Abby leaned forward to clean your legs, then offered you the towel to clean any other places you wanted or that she had missed. She couldn’t stop herself from delivering kisses to the back of your neck as you did so.

“Can I clean you, Abs?” you asked. You turned to glance at her, just in time to see the blush on her face.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I can clean myself,” she insisted.

“You sure?” you asked. “I wanted to clean you up, too. I mean, you cleaned me.”

“I–You don’t have to do that,” she insisted. The truth was, sometimes she was uncomfortable with intimacy, scared to let someone take care of her or see her so vulnerable like this. The idea of someone knowing her so deeply and allowing them to do things like this frightened her, because what if they saw something they didn't like? What if they changed their mind? The possibilities scared her, but this type of vulnerability was a part of love, wasn’t it? Allowing yourself to be known? Taking the jump? Abby glanced around the bathroom, the room suddenly feeling smaller, but she took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll let you wash me.” When Abby saw the giant smile that spread across your face, she regretted almost denying your request. How could she say no when you looked so happy, so excited, just to care for her?

“Give me your towel.” You turned your body to face her, the water sloshing around the walls of the tub as you did so. While you did that, Abby reached for the other small towel she had nearby and handed it to you. You grabbed her favorite soap and sudsed up her towel, then scooted closer to her body until you were kneeling in front of her. You started cleaning her shoulders first, Abby watching as you spread the soap across her chest and down to her breasts, then her stomach. You grabbed her arms and cleaned them carefully, all the way to her fingertips, as if she was the most delicate thing you had ever laid your hands on. No one ever treated her like that, not when most people feared her and acted like she never needed anyone.

“Turn around,” you said, and Abby did exactly as you asked. She could feel you lathering the soap all over her back, making sure to get every inch of her skin. When you were done, you leaned down and kissed the back of her neck. “Okay, turn back around,” you instructed.

After cleaning her upper body, you reached down to grab her legs, straightening them out and cleaning her skin. Her muscles were so taut and knotted, and you did your best to massage and loosen them up as much as you could. Abby wasn’t used to something like this, but she allowed you to do it nonetheless. It just felt so personal, so deeply intimate, like you were truly seeing and coming to know every part of her. It was scary, but by the time you finished cleaning her body, she felt like she was glowing, and it wasn’t just from how well you had cleaned her up. She actually felt good on the inside, and she just felt so bright. She always found it so easy to care for others that she forgot what it was like to let someone else take care of her. Maybe she got so caught up in everything that she forgot an aspect of love was allowing yourself to be seen, not just continuously giving. Giving made her feel good—and she’d never stop—but letting you see her like this made her feel good, too. Secure, even. It made her realize that she could allow herself to be seen and cared for by you, that she could be vulnerable, and that it would be okay if she did.

After rinsing off and letting the water drain from the tub, you and Abby were both wrapped up in your towels to dry off. While she was wringing her hair out into the tub, she glanced at you through the corner of her eye. You were drying off your legs and your arms, and she thought that even like this, so simple and so bare, that you were still so beautiful. You were so precious, deserving of so much, and all she wanted to do was take care of you. It’s what you deserved in general, but especially after today. She found herself walking over to you before she even realized, pressing into your back and enveloping you into her arms. She leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on your shoulder blade.

“How about we get dressed and I get to making that dinner I promised? How does that sound, sweet thing?” she asked. She looked into your eyes through the mirror in front of the two of you, and she could see you were absolutely beaming.

“I’d love that, Abs!” you said. She gave you another kiss, this time on the space underneath your ear.

“I knew you would, love. Now, let’s enjoy our night in, yeah?” she prompted you.

#abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x reader fluff

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prolix-yuy · 3 months

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Writers' Iron Chef #13: Lovesick

[PROMPT] Patching up a wound

[ADDITIONAL PROMPT] “Why would you put yourself through something like that?”

[TIME LIMIT] Optional, 10 minutes prep. time 30 minutes writing time Optional, 10 minutes editing time

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Rating: M, descriptions of wound care and blood, allusions to dubcon due to drinking and drug use. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ so MINORS DNI.

Summary: You've been greedy for Joel for too long.

Notes: Written for Writers’ Iron Chef Prompt 13

I've had a Joel story idea bouncing around in my head for several months now, but it's not much more than disconnected scenes and a vibe, you know? I decided to try and exorcise a part with this prompt. This was imspired by a scene in the movie Foe with Saoirse Ronan and Paul Mescal (which was excellent, btw) that got the creative juices flowing.

Thanks to @writersironchef for always giving the best prompts!

The blood that runs into the sink isn’t yours, but it is Joel Miller’s and that’s hardly better.

Laying the needle and scissors beside the sink, you dry your hands on a towel that doesn’t make you feel much cleaner. There’s probably still blood under your nails, half moons of frenzied memories you can look back on when you’re in bed tonight.

“Joel, what the fuck?”

“I need…”

He didn’t have to say much more, and your stomach sours for it. Joel could say he needed you to balance on the edge of a razor and you’d do it just for the fact that he needed you. Pitiful, lovesick, desperate you.

He’d shredded his back coming back into the QZ scrambling away from patrol lights. Tess split off from him, trades to be made and deals best done without her loyal attack dog. So he’d stumbled back to his apartment, stopping just long enough to knock at yours across the hall.

“Jesus Christ, how did you fuck yourself up this badly?”

“FEDRA’s patrolling our usual spots, think they’re onto us…fuck!”

You salved his wounds with apologies as you cleaned grit from long scrapes and worried at the beads of blood that melted across your fingers. The worst was a gash you had to close, infection too present a worry. Hardening your gut, you tried to disassociate how much like sewing leather it felt. Joel bit down on his belt and stuffed his face in a pillow, but fists still slammed on walls around you at his ruckus.

“I’m done, I’m done, it’s finished.”

“Jesus ‘n Mary, there ain’t much left for you to piece back together at this rate.”

Walking back to the bed, he’s disheveled but alive. He asks for booze, which you find in a high cabinet. He asks for pills, reluctantly revealed to live in a false drawer bottom. You don’t have to say he can trust you with these secrets. Vices were too expensive for you most days. Once he downs both he lays back, injury padded with the cleanest cloths you could find. His breathing hitches, pants in pain, then slows as the drugs and drink take effect.

And then it’s just you, sitting next to your neighbor as his body releases.

You should go. Tess would be back any time now and you didn’t want her to see your longing. There are whispers about if Joel is hers, and while you know they belong to each other in a way drenched in darkness, you’ve never been sure if the claim is on their hearts as well. It’s just vague enough of a partnership that when Joel has a good day and shares an extra ration card, your heart flutters.

But it’s too dangerous. He’s too dangerous, the both of them. You can’t get mixed up in whatever they have going on. Why would you put yourself through something like that?

It’s not the first time he’s come home bloodied, and not the first time you’ve pulled him back together. There’s trust there, but also foolish hope that life could march on and a man could desire you again. Maybe even care for you enough to break teeth and bones.

A brush against your arm turns you back to Joel, eyes half-lidded but trained hazily on you. One large hand skims over your shoulder, down your arm and lands heavily in your lap.

“Joel?” you ask, looking down at his thick fingers splayed across your thighs. He hums, low and rumbly as his lips part.

He’s surely too far gone to know you’re even here. It would be best to slip out unnoticed, talk to Tess tomorrow about checking his injury for infection.

But you don’t. You’re frozen as the calloused skin of his thumb catches on the worn fibers of your jeans. It’s a caress you haven’t known for years.

He doesn’t know it’s you.

“Joel,” you say again, and enough courage bolsters you to slide your hand into his palm, the other circling his wrist. He’s so warm, thick-skinned against your fingers. You start to lift from the bed, intending to place his hand where you sat, when it makes a drunken path to cup your chin. Pressure against your jaw turns your face to him spread out on the bed beside you. His chest is bare, light perspiration beading along the cut of his collarbone. He licks his lips slowly, the slip of tongue drawing an ache up from the deepest well.

“Hey there,” he drawls, and god, you could shatter from it. Tears build in your eyes but you can’t move, his hands drawing you down to him.

“Joel, it’s…I’m not…” you choke out. It’s a final defense. He’ll hate you tomorrow, but you’ll have said something. His lip quirks, not quite a smile.

“I know,” he husks before leading your lips to meet his.

You’re not sure he does, but you’re too greedy to say more.

END

#lissie’s writers’ iron chef #writers’ iron chef 13 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x gn!reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #prolix fics

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sixhours · 1 month

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One Day at a Time - Chapter 1 - Conception

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

It was probably the alcohol.

No, it was definitely the alcohol. That shit was lethal and he should have known better.

Charlie wasn’t even supposed to be on the patrol roster that day. Joel was usually paired with Tommy; the brothers had a good rhythm and years of partnership that made their runs almost effortless. But Tommy’s kid was sick, and Charlie had shown up for his shift.

Joel didn’t mind. She was serious, a good shot, and she didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. Even Tommy could get chatty when the mood struck, and Joel was infamously allergic to small talk. It was one overnight run–ride north, spend the night in Beaver Creek, keep an eye out for hordes, and salvage and scavenge what they could–and then they’d come home.

If only she hadn’t cut her damn leg.

“Hold still,” Joel grunted as Charlie’s calf twitched under his hand. The gash was deep enough to require stitches, but he wasn’t going to try that, not with his arthritic fingers, not in this damp spring chill. He poured a splash of alcohol over the wound and winced at her hissed out-breath.

“Motherfucker,” she growled, and Joel’s cock gave an involuntary twitch at the timbre of her voice, a hazy borderland between pleasure and pain.

Yeah, he’d noticed her. The way her ass looked in those jeans, the way her thighs gripped the saddle and held firm, the way her competent hands wielded a rifle. Her hair was a shock of silver-white that complemented strange light gray eyes and full pink lips.

He’d noticed all of it. He was old as dirt, but he wasn’t dead .

When a clean rag was wrapped and tied around the wound, he sat back, examining his work.

“How the hell’d you manage that?”

She gestured to the corner of the outpost where refuse had piled up. “Was looking for the log. There’s a broken window, didn’t see it.”

“Log’s on the other side,” he grouched.

“Yeah, I figured that out,” she muttered, wincing as she shifted her leg.

“S’it hurt?”

She shot him a look. Of course, it fucking hurts.

So he handed her the flask from which he’d poured the makeshift antibiotic.

“This’ll help.”

Charlie took the first swallow greedily, eyes watering, wheezing and coughing when the stuff hit the back of her throat. “Holy shit, what is this?”

He smirked, taking back the flask and helping himself, letting out an involuntary cough at the burn. “They don’t fuck around at the distillery.”

“You don’t say,” she said, gesturing to him with a flick of her fingers. Give it back. He obliged.

He forgot he hadn’t had a stiff drink in too many months. He forgot the stuff was so potent . He forgot the cold made it easier to get shit-faced.

The drink helped ease the tension and pass the time as they passed the flask back and forth. It loosened his tongue and made him soft, malleable, fuzzy around the edges.

He remembers her leaning into him, seeking warmth. He remembers putting an arm around her and thinking she smelled really good, then her face was really close to his and…then the flask was empty and Charlie was straddling his lap and her hot little tongue was licking his mouth and he had no concept of how she’d gotten there.

Worst of all, he didn’t really care.

The next time he came to, she was pinned underneath him, three of his thick fingers pressing into the hot slick of her mouth. He watched, mesmerized, as she sucked them in deeper, swirled her tongue between the sensitive V of his middle and index fingers…then fucking smiled around them.

The noise he made was something between a croak and a moan, cock buried in her to the hilt, hips rocking against hers involuntarily as she clenched, clenched, clenched . At some point, she’d taken off her jacket and he’d pushed up her shirt, pulled the cup of her bra down over one perfect full breast, and he had just enough wherewithal for his lips to find her nipple, sucking it hard between his teeth. He fumbled then, wanting the other breast, but his other hand was still in her fucking mouth, pressing against the soft warm pad of her tongue, and he couldn’t hold himself up. He growled in frustration, used his teeth against the lace cup of her bra, pulled hard, and freed his target.

Then he promptly forgot what he was trying to do.

The little sounds she made, cooed and purred directly into his good ear, were going to drive him fucking insane. It shouldn’t have been possible to get this hard , not at his age, and certainly not while on the verge of blackout drunk. He felt like he’d taken one of those little blue pills he used to trade. And she was so wet, so soft. She was burning around him and he wanted to die in her fire.

Then his groin pulled tight, a molten heat pooling low in his belly, and he couldn’t make himself stop thrusting, couldn’t make himself wait.

“You–you gonna–” he fumbled, trying to get the words to cooperate but his tongue was a useless piece of meat in his mouth and he was too fucking gone.

Charlie’s strong body arched under him, cutting him off, and all he could feel was her sweet, slick fluttering pulling him deeper as she came with a wail. A dim part of his mind thanked a god he didn’t believe in and followed suit, spilling into her with a final sloppy thrust that wrenched a harsh cry from his lips and his mind from his body.

He vaguely remembers her pushing him off, panting and muttering about not being able to breathe, and then it all went black.

~*~

He wakes with a groan that tastes like bile.

Oh, his aching head, his godforsaken head . He’s having a stroke. That’s gotta be it. Only explanation.

He rolls to his side in agony and dares a tiny peek through swollen, dry eyes. The light is a white-hot blade to his frontal lobe.

Nope, that’s not gonna work.

He hears retching outside. His hand touches something cold and metallic—the flask.

The empty flask.

Jesus. He risks another glance at the too-bright world and it hurts a tiny fraction less. Maybe not a stroke after all. His cock is still hanging out of his boxers, flaccid and freezing, and he has just enough capacity to tuck himself back in and sit up before Charlie comes limping into the cabin.

The sight of her calls up a hazy memory of heat and searing pleasure along with a wave of nausea. It must come back to her, too, because she’s looking at him warily.

“Did we…?” she says.

“We did,” Joel mutters, forcing himself to stay absolutely still. The slightest movement leaves him feeling like a rowboat tossed on the open sea.

“Thought so. Shit.”

After a few excruciating moments, Joel’s stomach settles and he attempts to get to his feet. His back has other plans, and when she offers him an arm for leverage, he takes it reluctantly, pulling away at the first possible opportunity when he’s sure he’s not going to keel over.

“Look–”

“Listen–”

Fuck.

“You go,” he says, closing his eyes. Oops, that was a mistake. The world spins behind his eyelids. He drags them open, stumbling toward the door, searching for something to hold onto.

“I think…we’re two people, who had a consensual–consensual-ish—”

Joel’s gut rolls, pitches, yaws. He flings open the door just in time, depositing the meager contents of his stomach into the mud.

Leaning on the door frame, her hand on his arm brings him back.

“This doesn’t need to be weird,” Charlie says. “Can we chalk it up to a couple of bad decisions and move on?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, swallowing another heave. “S’fine.”

He’s barely conscious for the trip back to Jackson. The glare of the early spring sun and the lope of the horse beneath him is nauseating. Charlie doesn’t seem to fare much better, but true to her nature, she doesn’t complain.

They ride through the gates and part ways with barely a nod and a wave between them. No one asks why their run proves fruitless, chalking it up to Charlie’s injury. She limps off to the clinic to get stitched up, and Joel staggers home, collapsing in bed to sleep off the worst hangover of his life.

#the last of us #fanfic #fanfiction #joel miller #pregnancy #babyfic

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luxthestrange · 15 days

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BNHA Incorrect quotes#20 Ollo-

So You were in a meet-up for a partnership with some tiny thug...they plan to get rid of many of the heroes...you didn't care and found this idiot droning on and on boring TILL...he mentioned Fatgum is one of his targets...that's when mood shifted and your henchmen took the cue to step back, taking out their trenchcoats for the bloodbath about to happen-

Villain!Y/n: I think if you touch a single hair on his head, I'm gonna be wearing your guts like my mom's pashmina~

Overhaul: …Excuse me?

Villain!Y/n*Slowly your pupils started to grow red as you started to grow in size in an Eldrich horror deity voices come out of you as the lights started to explode around you and the furniture started to shake* I'm sorry~, Did I frickin' stutter? I said if you hurt him, you will experience pain and torment beyond anything you could possibly imagine, Your body will be torn apart, piece by piece, as you beg for mercy that will never come, I will add your screams to my goshdarn Spotify, and I will see your head mounted on a fudging pike!!!

Dave*Has face plastic mask when he gets a call on your phone and sees...surprisingly Fatgum number that he found out while investigating him* Um Boss It's Mister Fatgum's calling-

Villain!Y/n*Mid shifts and zoomies to nervously hold the phone in hands with a raging blush*O-oh my!?-He actually is calling me-SHIT SHIT HOW DO HUMANS SPEAK-*anwers call and coughs*Ollo!~

Henchment(Steve)*Smilling at you*Is "Hello"

Dave*Facepalms*...we practiced boss-

Villain!Y/n*Gasps and thanks steve*Hello!~

You look at your lackeys and they give you thumbs up happily, While Dave PROMPTLY...kicks the Yakuza out

part 3 of:

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joels6string · 1 year

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Cup o'Joel

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You've never had the heart to tell Joel that you absolutely despise the coffee he loves sharing with you so damn much. Dedicated to @dameronscopilot

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.5k (why?)

Content: Joel Miller fluff, a man trying his very best, Ellie at her finest, Joel having the happy life he deserves

If there was one thing you hated, it was coffee. If there was one thing you loved, it was Joel. Who knew those two things could form such a grueling dichotomy.

Joel loved his coffee. Name the price and he’d pay it. Half a bag of beans here, half there, he’d take whatever he could get his hands on. He’d traded a fucking shotgun for two cups worth a few weeks back. And that’s where your immeasurable guilt always came into play.

You hated the stuff. Just the smell of it made your stomach lurch. You just…didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Joel loved you, you knew that, but he was more of a show not tell kind of person. And one way that he proved you were just as important to him as he was to you was by the little things he did. Sometimes it was adding an extra pot of hot water to the little makeshift shower so you could spend a little more time beneath its relaxing heat. Other times, he’d finish off your farming shift so you could go tend to the flowers in the yard, your preferred form of gardening. But his biggest one was always sharing his beloved, coveted drink.

Refusing wasn’t an option, you’d tried. You’d masked it as an effort to let him have this one good thing to himself, something all for him to enjoy. You should have known that was only going to make him want to share it even more.

“What’s mine is yours,” he’d said, sliding the mug he’d poured just for you across the table as he walked off to his studio, pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of your head.

Shame weighed your feet as you poured it down the drain thirty minutes later, your staring contest with the little brown tawny owl on the mug proving completely fruitless as you’d mentally tried to pep talk yourself into drinking it for his sake.

The next time he’d gotten his hands on some, he’d made it first thing on a cold winter morning. You’d been on the couch with a new book you’d found at the swap shop in hand, a thick wool blanket laying in your lap with a fire roaring and when that cursed steaming brown bean water was offered to you by a large, weathered hand, it took all of your self-control to not sigh in disdain. It had been easy the first time, it wasn’t then as Joel joined you beneath the covering with a book of his own.

“This one’s better than the last,” he’d commented after a long sip, “S’a little richer. Real smooth. Glad I took all they had.”

“Was this…” you’d begun, “Was this all they had?”

“Enough for another pot or two left.”

Well, that had been a relief. Until the next sentence left his lips.

“Gonna try it?”

He’d been watching like a hawk, a happy sparkle in his eye that you could not refuse even under the direst of circumstances. He was so proud of himself, the corner of his mouth ticked up into a smile as you brought the mug to your lips, hoping if you held your breath it would help muffle the taste. It didn’t. Stifling the disgust on your face had been your hardest kill yet, the bitter liquid sitting on your tongue as you faked a swallow and smiled up at him, nodding, spitting it quietly back into the cup as soon as his eyes turned away. Ellie had stormed in moments later fresh off an early morning patrol, Joel getting up to fix her breakfast which allotted you the perfect amount of time for the fire to finish sputtering after being doused.

“Oh, you got coffee!” you’d heard Ellie exclaim from the kitchen, “Can I have some?”

Thus began a beautiful partnership. What you didn’t want, Ellie was keen to slurp down greedily, the secret from Joel making it all the more fun for both of you.

“He got more,” Ellie panted as the front door swung wide open, sweat pouring down her face after her sprint back to the house for the forewarning, “He’s fucking excited, too. He’s brewing that shit tonight.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, slamming your book shut, “Looks like I’m cooking us all dinner. Any requests?”

“Yeah, actually. Whatever you made last week, with the carrots and the green stuff. That was amazing. I’ll be back at four, make him hold off til then.”

That required a trip to the greenhouses, a favor needing called in to get another bushel of carrots so soon after your first, but the Miller name held weight and by the time you got home Joel was already showered and changed, his sack of precious brown kernels on the counter waiting to infiltrate your nose as you prepped the evening meal.

“There you are,” he greeted, a slightly frantic edge to his voice, “Leave a damn note next time.”

“Where do you think I’m gonna go?” you teased, pressing up onto your toes to gently kiss his scowl away, “Ellie’s coming for dinner.”

“Guess I should brew this up now.”

“No! Not yet, let me cook first, free my hands up.”

By some miracle you made him wait until 3:45, your eyes flitting from him to the visible door of Ellie’s place in your backyard. She better not be late. The pep in his step was undeniable, it had been months since he’d gotten his hand on any and you could see the excitement filling the fine lines around his eyes. He was so precise, measuring out the water with such care you’d be scoffing if the sight didn’t bring you so much damn joy.

“Hey guys,” Ellie greeted, right on time, “Smells good. Got a new movie for us.”

“Oh yeah?” Joel replied, gaze still transfixed as he prepped his urn, “Which one?”

“It’s called…Back to the Future.”

“Yeah…that’s a good one.”

Steady hands passed you a mug, Ellie’s eyes widening as she breathed in the scent of her reward nestled between you both on the couch, Joel chuckling softly at the antic of Doc and Marty McFly. His arm was resting atop the couch, outstretched towards you both as his palms swallowed his own ceramic cup practically whole. You were more interested in watching him than the movie playing on the big TV in front of you, you couldn’t help it whenever it looked at peace. It was so rare, so precious it made your chest swell. You didn’t even notice the small smile Ellie was looking at you with, her eyes filled with gratitude and respect. A rare thing to earn.

“Hey,” she cut in softly, shaking you from your trance, “We should check on dinner.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, tapping Joel’s hand where it rested, “We’ll be right back.”

“I’ll pause it,” he insisted, “s’a good part comin’ up.”

Ellie was practically bouncing with glee when you passed her the still-warm liquid, taking a long gluttonous sip as you checked the food still roasting in the oven. The house was beginning to fill with the aroma, thankfully canceling out the other scent that had occupied the space.

“I can’t believe he hasn’t figured it out yet,” Ellie laughed from where she leaned against the counter, another loud slurp echoing off the walls.

“Figured what out?” Joel asked, your stomach dropping to the floor as you stood up straight, eyes going wide, “Why are you drinkin’ that?”

Busted.

“Sometimes…sometimes we…share,” Ellie stammered, “Since you never give me any.”

“Well, you never ask… ‘cept that one time. And I gave you some,” he defended, your face growing hot, his face contorting in what looked like betrayal.

“I hate it,” you finally spit out.

“You what?”

“I hate it…so much. I’ve never liked it. Not a day in my life.”

Through all the things Joel Miller had seen in his life, this seemed to be the most baffling. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his mouth hanging open as if he was stunned speechless, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to sort through whatever thoughts were traveling through his head. You wanted to laugh, but again that contrition you felt toward having wasted Joel’s most precious resource was surging.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he finally inquired, “Ain’t I supposed to know these things?”

“You were always so happy…” you began to ramble, “I didn’t want to take that away from you. You get that stupid fucking smile–”

“I do not smile stupid…”

“No. You don’t. It’s…”

“Okay!” Ellie cut in, tossing back the last of her drink before setting her cup loudly in the sink, “You guys are getting gross. I’ll leave you to it. I’m hitting play to drown you out.”

Both you and Joel laughed as she brushed by, Joel closing the distance between you and pulling you into his chest, that familiar leathery, wooded smell filling your nose and relaxing your tension.

“What do you like then?” he petitioned, lips pressed to your hair as he began to sway gently from side to side.

“I was always kind of a tea girl…” you confessed.

“That’s disgusting. You’re gonna make me have tea, in my house?”

His laugh rumbled against your ear, mingling with your own in what little crevices remained between you, your arms locked tightly around his middle.

“I’ll find you some tea,” he conceded in a husky whisper, “but I ain’t drinkin’ it.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff

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spiderpussinc · 9 months

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who you mind sharing some spiderdads headcanons you have, or do "the explain your otp in 5 minutes" meme? no pressure though! i love your art and fic too

im soooooo bad at this kind of question bc i kinda love thinking about a bunch of different/concurrent options like. you know how every fic is its own universe and you watch the same steps happen with little alterations so the same guys fall in love 101 times that's my brain... HOWEVER I've been thinking a LOT about ITSV Peter/Miguel lately --

Either comic-canon based settings where he's the usual single hero in his natural habitat OR directly /before/ ITSV itself; divorced midlife crisis spider-man who's always struggling to make rent is SUCH a good spot for Peter's stakes, and it sucks how people just want to make him rich or magically the avengers solve all his problems to basically erase what makes him compelling. I think its a good choice the spidey movies do -- to make it all a lot more ground-level, without outside interference -- so he has to make the tiny decisions.

Miguel getting stranded in the past!! HOW COME THERE'S SO LITTLE STUFF ABOUT MIGUEL AND PETER MEETING IN THE PAST? Doesn't need to be ATSV plotline compliant. A macguffin gets him there, or sends him to Peter's universe, come on! The important part is having them on a ground level sandbox.

THE REAL FUN STUFF: The cheesiest stupidest meetcutes you could ever imagine. Endless possibility. Spitballing: Peter/Miguel being unaware of each other's identities and renting the same apartment because neither of them has the funds to fly solo. Peter being suddenly spooked by the appearance of a brand new edgy spider-man in the vicinity. After all these years. Miguel not knowing how much he can say because Peter's sort of convinced this is a villain ploy of some sort to fuck up his public persona.

REAL-LIFE, both of them are suspicious about the other as a Weird Fidgety Roommate type. Neither can complain much because, again, it's rent on NY. You mind or business. or not.

Maybe Alchemax doesn't even exist in this universe, tipping Miguel off that this is an alternate timeline and he's really on his own. Maybe the ruling company here is Roxxon or Future labs or whatever; there's a lot of those in comics. He kind of HAS to eventually come clean about being universe-displaced to this world's Spider-man -- Peter begrudgingly accepting that there's a second spider-guy around on the condition that Miguel isn't gonna do anything catastrophic while he's here to completely blow up Peter's image, or give J.J. Jameson fodder to attack him.

Maybe they start working together. Maybe it's a casual partnerships thing where they happen to be tracking the same shady incident and decide to wrap it up as a duo; maybe they just agree to patrol the neighborhood together on busy weeks since they just.. suspiciously... seem to be around at the same place... at the same time... overly concerned abt the same shit....

Miguel has a superhuman investment in Not Letting This World Turn into a Future Dystopic Hellhole; Peter just kind of wants to live and solve problems as they come by but these two motivations really synergize. Peter doesn't even need to ask why, just damn okay dude!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Respect!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!1!!1!

Secret Identity investigations. Secret Identity mishaps. Secret Identity fumbles. Lyla accidentally busting out that Peter Parker is Spider-man via advanced facebook voice recognition fuckery. (LOL) Hell, maybe in THIS Miguel's version of 2099 it was already revealed Peter is spider-man, after he died. How'd he die? Maybe it was a bad end. How does Miguel feel about that? About meeting with a ghost? Endless possibility.

EVEN MORE FUN STUFF: both of these guys are *SO* intensely defined by a lack of support system around their secret identities. WALLOWING in guilt. Spider-man always seems to ruin their lives, in the worst ways. They're too proud to let normal people intervene, or the ppl themselves deeply resent the fact Spider-man exists. It's fun to think of a reversal scenario where Peter/Miguel have each other's backs, can help the other dress wounds, can show up in a pinch to prevent disaster from occurring with some supervillain 10 blocks away while Peter is trying to land a new job interview as a highschool teacher or science columnist. IDK It doesn't have to be constant uphill battle to get someone else to understand why they do what they do and what the stakes are; they're the same kind of crazy.

And okay, maybe you don't want the spidersonas falling in love before their real identities do..... still VERY ripe options around for Miguel sneaking home with a limp or a really fucked up arm and his healing factor isn't nearly as good as Spider-man Prime's, so Peter is like 'WHAT the FUCK happened to you?' And even though he can tell Miguel is lying. He is not going to bust him out for it. Because he's been lying for 20+ years. Instead, Peter just takes it upon himself to teach him how to get his shit fixed. Temporary armslings and icepacks and sprays and current-time medication that is different to what Miguel is used to in the future; friendly neighborhood Peter Parker who minds his business and will not ask you if you're secretly Daredevil for Reasons but that will, however, tell you to stop blocking attacks with your fucking head. He learned this lesson earlier than most superheroes.

(The reverse scenario is still sweet! Peter's taciturn roommate who wears sunglasses indoors and is weirdly secretive about everything seeing him come home with a busted out eye and hes like damn. Do you want to split a pizza or whatever. You look like shit)

Miguel is not actually as experienced as Peter! He /could/ use the tips!!! Peter has been Spider-man ever since he was 15 years old. Miguel became Spider-man due to a freak accident at MAXIMUM 4ish years ago. Probably less. Figuring out how to do it not alone would be genuinely a good experience for him.

Miguel moe x1000 as the future man who kinda doesn't get the weird counterintuitive way things work present-time 💔 flipside; Miguel seeing the beginnings of bad future patterns like musk trying to buy twitter and deciding to take matters into his own hands. sorry this is just hilarious to me. Even if he's not beating these guys up its still awesome to imagine him as an insane ranting tech essayist who goes on hour-long takedowns of NFTs on youtube or being like GOD WE NEED VACCINES TO BE COOL AGAIN FUCKKKK

Among all of this though, I think one of the most appealing aspects of having them as an unit is that they don't have to lone-wolf shit anymore. (and they Have been lonewolfing it for SO long.) Feels good feels organic

I could go on but I need to actually write and I just... think they can be so entertaining. We don't have to be so dependent on the movie here pulling from regular superhero shenanigans Really works. They sort of complete each other. Immediate productive boost on both of their morales. Get Peter/Miguel pilled with me rn

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penvisions · 19 days

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 6}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: With the splinter of wood and a muttered insult, you're done. You're done with the town; you're done with the hot and cold from Joel. You're tired and you don't have anymore fight left.

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, heavy angst, blood, mild injuries, description of stitches, reader had a mild injury, the holidays are hard, a lot on internal monologue in this (both joel pov and reader), hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, though he is a bit daft in this, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, hurt and comfort, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, adult content, kissing, yearning, protective joel, fluff, this is so unbelievably angsty, reader loses her cool, argumentative language, heated arguments, threatening language, fighting, wwe smackdown, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: okay, this is the penultimate chapter! this series grew into something way beyond a cheeky handful of scenes that were just a random thought six months ago. it's been a joy to write for these two, i've put so much of myself in olive and for y'all to root for her and love her really warms my heart. the interaction with this has been insane and i love all of it, i love y'all

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Sleep was such a pull on your psyche as the wind outside howled, battering anything that wasn’t secure and echoing loudly through the empty streets of Jackson. The habit of waking up throughout the night to peer outside your bedroom window and toward the small slip of the front street over your backyard fence periodically had been amplified in the storm. Unease settled in you, the storm bringing back memories you would father let fade into nothing. Inclement weather had been a challenge back when the world was whole, when safety measures were in place, when medical aid was abundant, when homes and buildings were constructed with them in mind. But even back then, they had been devastating.

And now?

They were as deadly as the virus.

Incessant snowfall all through the night, the light sprinkle of it last night turning into slanted sheets of downpour. It was blindingly bright on the other side of the windowpanes.

Despite the lockdown put in place by the council, you had told Maria depending on the streets that you would still make it to the mess hall. The intention of baking some breakfast casseroles hard to shake, of wanting to provide for those who may not have stock in their homes, or who relied on the mess hall as a main source of food. Layering as much as you could to combat the below freezing temperature, you pulled on your boots by the front door. Grabbing a knit cap and a scarf, you opened your front door and trudged through the snow drifts that had formed overnight.

Joel is panicking before he’s even fully conscious. His heart feels like it’s stopped but knows that it’s beating far too fast. His entire body feels weak and achy, his head pounding and overflowing with too many things. He felt nauseous, the drag of his lungs and the slushing of his stomach too much for him to handle. He groaned, pressing his face further into the pillow, the scent of his body wash wafting up and making it even worse.

He fucked up. He knows he did.

You had raised your voice at him, refused his help, his touch. Even as you laid collapsed on the ground because he had accidently knocked you down. You had been so worked up, so angry, but he had seen the way you clutched to your middle as you fled from him for a second time. He cursed low, the words a growl as he kicked the blankets from his sweating body despite the chills crawling down his spine.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He knew that woman was bound to be nothing but trouble. She was always a little too chatty for him, too willing to burst his bubble of personal space. But she had wiggled her way into his life and coerced him into a huge project that had taken so much of his free time leading up to the holidays.

He was a giving man, having been influenced by the acceptance he had been given here in the settlement, wanted to do what he could to help establish himself here. Not wanting to go back to the eat or be eaten mantra of the outside world or a collapsing quarantine zone. He had wanted to be everything he could manage for Ellie, to keep her safe here in a place that would allow for her to heal from the things they endured together. To survive in a way she hadn’t had the chance to, to have a life that wasn’t all bad. He had done his best to integrate, to be someone she could look up to and feel safe around. All of it had been for her, to have holidays, to have friends, to have a chance at finding out who she was without the undercurrent of survival being the only inspiration. And maybe ha had wanted it for himself too.

He had wanted to invite you over, try his hand at making you something for a change. If you had teased him over it, so be it, he would’ve taken it without argument. Just to see your lips quirk up and your soft laughter ring in the air of his kitchen. He would give anything for it to be his to witness.

The faux image of the domestic scene melted away, replaced by the one of you on the ground at his feet, with fear in your eyes. He hadn’t thought you were afraid of him, so open and willing to be in his space.

To tease him and lightly berate him when his answers were less than appropriate or too gruff.

Joel had never shown violence or distaste toward you, but yeah maybe he had been quieter or moodier on some patrols. But he wouldn’t get the chance to speak with you today. Patrols cancelled until the blizzard raging outside calmed down. A safety precaution that had been made lightly by the council. The risk of a group or pair getting stuck, of horses unable to handle it, of snow drifts forming and virtually undetectable, all of it had been taken into consideration. He wasn’t sure you were even cleared for patrol with your stitches. No pain killers you had said, reserved for extreme cases with how the supply was dwindled down to too little for a town of a few hundred.

Groaning as his head hammered, Joel shoved up from the bed, the blue sheets showing damp spots from his sweating and aching body. Scowling, he stripped the bed and made his way downstairs with them bundled in his arms. He felt a weird sense of déjà vu as he stuffed them into the top loading washer, reaching for the jar of powdered soap and pouring in a scoop. It was all so fucking normal. But his whole world felt like it was tilted, off kilter. Even more so than normal.

And it was because he knew he fucked up. He had hurt you, he had seen in it your eyes as you took in the way Marsha was clinging to him in her drunken state. The way she had deemed herself important enough to impinge on his time with you, so rare within the walls. Both of you so busy and both of you so afraid to ask after each other’s time. He knew he was, because he didn’t want to intrude on the way you kept to yourself, how you let your errands build up to take a whole day sometimes. And he knew some of that was because of the way people wouldn’t hold conversations with you, let alone start them. Opting to keep to yourself as a coping mechanism. Not wanting to feel like you were imposing yourself on the people who didn’t want to interact with you. He knew, because he had felt much the same way back in the quarantine zones, even if it was more born out of fear than distaste like it was for you.

He knew when you stumbled over your words to ask after him crafting something for you that you had worried yourself into a state before you even did it. Worried about taking up his time, taking up his resources, even if you had supplied him with the wood for the project. He had felt like a complete ass when you shut down and walked away, having felt comfortable enough to ask for something more when he had agreed to the first.

But Marsha. Marsha and her ill-placed infatuation with him had ruined the moment last night. You had told him you liked him, liked him. The heat he felt from you as he leaned in close and wanted to tell you he felt the same way. Shared and stolen kisses could only infer so much. And he groaned at the memory of pulling your hand over his erection the other morning. He was a damn fool to have done that, you had been pulling your hand away, but you had been touching him in his sleep. When he wasn’t able to tell you no, when something inevitably broke the moment, when something startled you or you thought too hard about it. You had just done it and the dilation of your eyes watching him, the hitch of your breaths, it had all been too tempting. He wouldn’t have told you no and he would’ve ignored the world ending all over again if it meant he could be with you in that way, even just once.

The older woman broken another tentative moment between you two. With the courage of alcohol flowing in her veins. It had made her bold in her words to him, her sentiments, her actions. Hell, the only reason he hadn’t heard your steps on the street was that he had been in shock. She had surged up and pressed her lips to his after he had denied her offer of a nightcap. He had just been trying to walk her home and make sure she was safe, even if he wasn’t overly fond of her, her friends had all been too unaware of themselves to help her.

Anger had overridden the shock; how dare she think she could do that. His heart wasn’t his to give, it was yours. And he had been about to tell you so.

The weak arguments of the woman defending herself and the gift she had gotten him even if she hadn’t gotten his name in the exchange for today had blurred his senses even more. His mind focused on the holiday, on taking you the gift he had made along with his heart. Hoping that today would be the day things were out in the open, plainly spoken and accepted. He only worried about how well you would receive him after being caught with Marsha last night.

Today.

Today was Christmas and the town was in a semi-state of lockdown with the strong winds and flurries of show raining down to collect along the streets. The bite to the air the worst of the season so far. Turning the washer on, he moved toward the coffee maker. Only to discover that he was out of grounds to brew.

With a string of muttered curses, Joel bundled up and braved the weather to cross the street.

He needed coffee and the gift he had left with Maria yesterday.

Tommy was pacing back and forth, waiting for the second pot of coffee to finish brewing. It had been an early morning, Maria rising hours ago and taking off with another neighbor to trek toward the mess hall where you had diligently showed up for your shift. Everyone had been advised late last night to remain indoors unless absolutely necessary.

A knocking barely echoed through the still howling wind. Thankfully, the snow had stopped, though it was built up deep all around the settlement.

A few moments later and both men were seated in the living room, the tea light candles flickering underneath two names etched in chalk above the mantle.

“She won’t be home much today.” Tommy supplied, reading the anxious silence Joel was stewing in beside him. “She trekked through one of the worst bouts of this weather to get to the mess hall. Wanted to make sure everyone had something to eat in case the power stutters or goes out. Her, Maria, and a couple others are gonna deliver meals door to door.”

“She’s too good for how people treat her.”

“From what I hear, you haven’t been treatin’ her too good either, brother.” Tommy took a long pull from his mug before he set it down on the coffee table. “She was over here after that overnight patrol, helpin’ with Macon. Was so tired she was rambling about how much she appreciates everything you do ‘round here, how talented you are, how nice you are to her. But then if you’re so nice, why doesn’t she have one of the cutting boards that was her idea.”

“It ain’t that simple. I can be nice to her and not have one of ‘em for her.” Joel couldn’t turn to look at his brother, knowing how easily he would read him. Read the anxiety and worry he felt over the entire situation. All the miscommunication. All the mixed signals he had been giving you without realizing it. He thought you had opted to not talk about the kiss because you were uncomfortable, because you were worried he hadn’t liked it or wanted it. Because he hadn’t exactly told you that he did, that he dreamt of kissing you, of holding you, of protecting and providing for you. Spending quiet evenings in with homemade meals, nights out at the bar, helping you with the harvest again next fall. All of it, he thought about all of it with you.

“Why don't you just make her one, I don’t get it."

"Drop it, Tommy, she's not getting one."

"I thought you liked her, I thought...I thought I saw you two kissing the other night. Sure as hell looked like she had been caught red-handed."

"We…we were. We have, a few times., but she thinks I’m with Marsha because that…insane woman has taken such a liking to me. Saw me walking her home from the bar the last night because she downed far too many shots and Millie was nowhere to be seen.”

“She knows you, trusts you not to do that to her if you’ve shown interest. Just give her a cutting board and I’m sure it’ll all blow over. That's all she wants Joel, to feel included. Like she's a part of something.” Tommy was wringing his hands in, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought over his next words. “A lot of people have them and she doesn't. It's basically an insult thrown in her face."

“Fuck, I didn't think of it like that."

The sip of coffee Joel took turned bitter in his mouth. He really hadn’t thought of it like that. He had just been trying to hone his skills with the new craft before gifting you the best one he could make. He set down the mug, stomach turning as the acid settled heavy. Rubbing his palms roughly over his face, rustling the thick hairs of his moustache.

"She's going to ask to be taken off patrol, Joel. She did ask before you showed up, stop it altogether and just focus on the mess hall. She feels like it would be easier to avoid the looks and gossip. We know about it, the council, but there’s not much we can do about it.” Tommy was obviously upset, his voice thick as he divulged something you had gone to him in a moment of weakness. He recalled the way you had been in tears, hurt beyond words by the acceptance that Joel and Ellie had been given as newcomers when you had been here for years and how upset you were at yourself for being jealous of it.

“But she kept at it as a favor for me, to help me keep you alive. To help me feel okay with not being by your side out beyond the walls when I couldn’t be. Because I worry, I worry so damn much about you brother and I just want you to be okay. She saw that, she saw that and took it onto her own shoulders because she cares about me.”

Joel sighed, his brothers words blossoming warmth in his chest.

“I am going to make her one, Tommy. From that piece of trunk I had you help me get from her yard. But it’s drying, the slabs I got from it. Already lost one and the other two need to dry.” He huffed out, chest tight as he thought of how long it would take. “She said the wood she brought me for those spoons took months to dry.”

“They’re beautiful, the whole set. I’m sure she’ll love them.” Tommy nodded to the box that contained them on in the kitchen. Of course he had looked them over, finding them when he had woken up and curious as to how they ended up in his own if your name was scribbled on the top of the box.

“But she came to me and asked for them, Tommy. It’s not gonna be the same if what you’re sayin’ is true. It’ll feel like a consolation when it’s not. It’s just the beginning of what I’m willin’ to give to her.”

“Then you should tell her that. She deserves to hear it.”

You ignored the knocking at your door, sleep keeping you weighted to the couch in your living room.

But the crack of wood and the clash of metal following a loud gust of wind had you surging up to your feet.

“Shit-“ A grunted curse was the only greeting you got before the door swung open to reveal the large shadow of Joel just outside of it.

“Joel? Why the hell would you break down my door?”

“It was an accident, I was just knocking and the wind got me-“

“Forced your way into my home? I thought I told you to leave me alone.” You hugged yourself, arms tight as you tried to shield away from the chill creeping into the living room.

“I-I-I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry. Please, I wouldn’t-“ He stumbled over his words, turning his back to you in order to try and set the door back into the frame. The wood was splintered around the lock, preventing it from shutting completely. He leaned down to get a closer look at the damage. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to probably make you a whole new door.”

“Just go, Joel. Please.” You clenched your eyes shut and walked away from the honeyed drawl, ignoring the pull it had on you to move closer. The kettle in the kitchen was just beginning to whistle and you removed it from the stove. But instead of gathering up a mug and the loose leaf tea from a cabinet, you flattened your palms on the table and hung your head.

You flinched when a wrapped box slid between your arms, pushed by a tan, weathered hand.

“’s for you.” His voice was so tender, his eyes wide and beseeching when you glanced up.

“No, thank you.” You pushed it back toward him, standing on the other side of the table.

“Olive, please. You said your name always gets thrown out of the exchange. I wanted to and it’s what you asked me for.”

He lifted the top of the box, setting the lid down beside it, the ribbon atop it looking far too cheerful for you. Set inside, amid a soft looking swath of cloth, was a set of wooden utensils tied together with a thick string. He held them out to you, a slight tremble in his hands. They were beautiful, the wood crafted expertly and you shook your head to rid yourself of the image of Joel sat in his desk chair face focused as he took the time to carve them from the block of wood you had taken to him.

“I pushed a lot of stuff back to make sure they were just right. Was so careful with the wood you brought to me, it was dense but I managed to sand it down without altering the look of it too much. I didn’t stain it, to keep the natural color, the grain is really beautiful-“

When you didn’t say anything, eyes focused on his chest, he trailed off. He set the gift back down on the table and took a step back, his mouth snapping shut. His gaze heavy on you as you tried to focus and keep your temper under control. But you were at the end of your patience. This time of the year already hard on you. Paired with the hot and cold from Joel, the judgment from the town, the lack of inclusion on anything going on and you were just tired. Deep down in your bones, exhausted.

“Joel…” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You’re a good man. But I really don’t want to do this with you right now. I need some space because whatever I do, I can’t get you out of my head and it’s ruining me.” Your voice had started off at a normal volume, quickly growing as the words rushed from you. Anger flaring overwhelmingly, leaving you panting, chest heaving and hands clenched at your sides. The set of tied spoons resting on the table between you both, like a line not to be crossed. Like a mockery of the things he was offering you a little too late. Surging, you reached for them and hurled them in a display of anger you had thought you had managed to control. “Take your things and go, Joel Miller!”

They clattered to the floor across the kitchen, skidding along the tile to slam into the baseboards. The wood splintering and covering the floor behind him. But he hadn’t ducked, hadn’t brought his hands up to shield himself. Knowing, knowing that you wouldn’t have aimed them at him even as anger and hurt lit you from the inside out. He saw the remorse flash across your face the second they had left your hand.

Knowing that it was all an act of self-preservation. A way to save face, to save the fact that you had been hurt by his actions, his indiscretions. The memory of turning down the street, his hand wrapped innocently around Marsha, guiding her toward their shared street in her drunken state. And when he had declined the offer for a nightcap, she had pushed into his personal space to crush her lips to his. Of running smack into you when he had tried to put distance between them, his back colliding with your front and crushing the wrapped gift in your hand. The sound of it thudding to the ground and your surprised shout warbling off into a deep breath of realization.

But the woman before him now was the same one who had taken the time to wrap the gift labeled with his name on it. Had taken the time to hand write recipes on a long-forgotten pack of index cards. Step by step instructions for things easy to combine and make nutritious means from. Had taken the time to include little, silly names for the meals that had pulled a tearful chuckle from him as he read them through in his inebriated state.

“I just want to be left alone. I just want, for one measly second that someone doesn’t watch me and wait for me to screw up, to give them a reason to feel disappointed. I-I can take it from the others, but Joel…I can’t handle it if it’s from y-you. Please just go.”

He didn’t go. He moved closer, into your personal space and he was thankful for the way you didn’t shy away from him even as tears raced down your cheeks. For the way you allowed him to cup your face in his hands and press his lips to yours, thumbs brushing away the tears. For the way your own moved against his as he tilted his head and really kissed you. There was no heat behind it like that last time, just adoration and reverence.

Pulling back, he whispered, “I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

He kisses the fear from you, pleading with you to understand that he's not going to turn his back on you.

He only hopes you can feel it. But your hands don’t rise to caress or cup his face, they don’t rise to rest on his chest, they don’t rise to run through his snow dampened hair. Your lips are barely moving against his and his heart sinks. It chips and shatters on the floor to settle with the pieces of broken olive wood.

But it wasn’t enough. It hurt that his attention wasn’t enough when you thought it would be. It was about his actions. How they had made you feel the last couple of months, since summer. The back and forth, the constant miscommunication, the humiliation of wanting a man who had so much more in his life, who was pulled in so many directions. The respect he had from the people within the settlement for the things he could do, for the things he provided to them. The issue of your reception, the possibility of it affecting his own if he were to be seen with you or you seeking out more of him. All of it was too much, the constant internal turmoil, it was heavy.

It was so heavy and you had to put it down.

“Joel,” Gently pushing him back, but not away, his body willingly moving with the motion. “Why didn’t you make me one, a cutting board?”

He froze.

When he sputtered on a few words before falling silent, you detangled from him. Crossing your arms as shield to your heart.

“This is why I keep to myself. It doesn't hurt when there's no one else involved.” Your voice was a low rasp, giving away the fresh wave of tears threatening to spill, the hot throb of them in your throat. “And even if you did try to be my friend, it's okay that you really don't want to be. You share things with people, you're a giver Joel, but I've had to ask for everything you've given to me.”

He could only watch as you closed yourself off, and you hoped he noticed the dark circles under your eyes. That he noticed just how much his attention had ruined you, because it had. You had been okay with how things were before he came along, content to keep to yourself, to spend patrols with Tommy and Maria. You hadn’t longed for companionship before he showed up and rode alongside you and asked simple questions about the town that developed into questions about yourself. Offering answers of his own in return. You hadn’t wanted before him.

“And that's not who i am, someone who asks for things she deserves. So…you standing there with no answer is you telling me that I don't mean anything to you. You don’t get to make me feel like I mean something and then not follow it with actions. I didn't take you for a cruel man. You say you’ve done things to stay alive, to fight for yourself and those in your care. And I wanted to believe that you changed, that you turned over a new leaf here. But you hurt me, Joel. You hurt me in a way that really…was so unfair.”

Once you let the words flow from within you it was hard to stop, they were a flood being released. Voice not stuttering or scrambling over them like you know you tended to do. Mostly from lack of interaction, of not using your voice most days as you spent it alone in the kitchen, home, or garden. The stuttering an anxious thing born of fear of interacting and it turning sour like it quickly tended to do. Words and sentiments always more ammo for those to use against you. And you could see it, in the man across from you, that he had things to say in response to the many words you were giving him. But you couldn’t, you were tired.

“I deserved better than the treatment I received by the people of this community, of this safe haven for those willing to contribute and who wanted something better for themselves. But the truth is…I’m better off alone.”

His voice cracked on the shape of your name on his lips.

But you shook your head, tears flowing freely and breathing labored.

“Just go, please.”

“Well hey there.” A figure approached you, where you were seated on the same stool at the long bar in the Tipsy Bison for the second night in a row. It was the man of the brother and sister duo you had convinced Joel to trust and bring back to the settlement. They had settled in well, Millie taking to the pregnant woman with a swiftness that had surprised you. But they were both close in age, something rare these days, to find friends you could relate to easily.

“Oh, h-hello.” You looked up from the book you had been reading, hearty sandwich on a plate beside your drink. Only a few bites taken out of it. The book holding your attention far more than the simpering hunger in your stomach. You hadn’t eaten all day, stewing in forlorn silence on the couch until your stomach rumbled. Only to find you didn’t have anything that would make a meal in your home, prompting you to brave the calmer but still whipping winds and intermittent snow fall.

“I just saw you from across the room, Tommy Miller said we could grab a bite here since the mess hall was closed for the day with the bad weather from this morning.” Nolan, you recalled his name. Nolan was nice, polite. You didn’t fault him for pointing a gun at you or Callie for managing to injure you. It was a sick, twisted world out in the wasteland of what was, especially if there was an unborn baby to worry about. They had just been doing what they needed to survive another day. “Guess no one wanted to risk working and getting stuck. I’m grabbing something to go I just wanted to thank you again, for helping us.”

“It’s no big deal. Everyone deserves a chance at something more.” You tried to smile, but you felt drained. From the early morning of cooking and delivering meals to front doors for people. Maria had enlisted the help of a handful of people, but it had been time-consuming to prep and make everything yourself. To bundle it all up into packs that would be appropriate servings.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He moved to sit beside you, startling you at his forwardness. There was a wry glint to his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he was fighting off a smile. “While I waited, that is.”

“Oh, t-that’s probably not a good idea. I’m not the most popular here, you’d have better luck integrating with-“

“Whore.” A female voice whispered as someone walked by behind you.

“Excuse me?” You whipped around, shocked at such a blatant display of behavior. You were used to whispers, to errant rumors springing up once you had left a store or a gathering, asked an impertinent question during patrol and general meetings. But this? A direct confrontation was a new level and you were far too tired to handle it. Especially with the day being what it was.

“You heard me, praying on the newcomers to try and sway them on your side.” It was Millie. She was sans coat, having removed it to enjoy her evening in the toasty bar with her gaggle of friends you could see gathered in a booth on the other side of the room. She must’ve come up to the bar for a refill when she decided to imitate her mother and impinge on your rare interactions with people. “I’d be careful if I was you, she tends to get people killed. Don’t want to find yourself the latest victim.”

“The council said that they’re selective of who they let in. Surely they-“ Nolan was trying to be polite, to not overstep his place being so new in such a large community. But you could see the anger in the furrowing of his brow, the frown pulling his lips down, the way his hands were twitching. It was sweet of him to feel the need to try and protect you but this is exactly what you had been worried about. That the two most instigating occupants would try and ostracize him and his sister for associating with you.

“They do, but in her case they should’ve left her out in the woods and let the Infected get her. Be better for everyone if they had.”

You had moved without even thinking. The force of your hand hitting the woman’s cheek loud across the room. The hush of conversation lulling, a tense silence following.

Scrambling to correct the huge mistake you just made, to save face, your words were a breath of stuttered apologies. Your stomach had dropped, no longer a part of your body as your mind moved through the outcomes and ramifications of your thoughtless actions. You had never been one to needlessly lay hands on someone. But…the time you had spent fighting to survive had changed you, altered you beyond what you had been. Your instincts honed and deadly, and you silently thanked whatever force of the universe that was still alive that you had left your knife at home. Otherwise, it would be hilt deep in her chest right now.

It was ugly and it was cruel, but someone could only take so much.

“Millie, oh-oh my god, I’m so sorry. I-“

You didn’t even get to finish your rushed words before she returned the slap, her hand connecting hard with your own cheek.

The sting of it hot, skin throbbing.

And it was like a damn broke. Filling the tunnel and making you desperate for a chance to crawl out.

But instead of breaking out of it into the town, you were transported outside the walls. Relying on your instincts, relying on fighting with everything you had to survive.

You were on her in a flash, not even a second had passed. Both of your knees knocking into the ground around her body. Your hands making contact with any part of her you could. Sounds of her struggling underneath you fly into the air with every punch, every pull of her hair, every push of your body against her. You didn’t care about her nails digging and tearing into your arms, her knees kicking up and colliding hard with your back, her elbows jutting into your ribs. The searing pain of your stitches popping loose.

You didn’t care. You didn’t care. You didn’t care.

Strong arms wrapped around you and pulled, while another held your legs down. Restraining you as you realized you were shouting out that same set of three words over and over again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, calm down.” Soft words, not harsh. And you shouted at them, forced the words from your aching throat, demanding that they let you go. That they leave you alone. Fighting against the people trying to hold you down. You felt your elbow connect with something hard, your knee with something soft and suddenly you were able to stagger to your feet.

Eyes not seeing details, just blurred faces and people standing all around you. Watching. Always just watching. Whispering things behind your back, not interacting with you, ignoring you. And you were done, you didn’t care. And you shouted it for everyone to hear as you took in the sight of Millie crumpled on the ground. Having turned on her side to try and make herself smaller. Bruises were already blooming along her pretty face, her loose hair a tangled mess. Her nails were chipped and broken from digging them into your skin, the faint sting of them long lines down your arms. Her clothes were rumpled, the exposed skin of her stomach showing signs of bruising as well.

You just stared, unable to draw your gaze away from the whimpering woman. She wasn’t even trying to get up, she wasn’t even trying to fight back anymore. She was just laying there, bellowing out her hurt and looking so pathetic. And it made you feel bad, because she was nothing, would be nothing without the settlement of Jackson. She and her family had been here since the outbreak, safe in their secluded location, safe in the quick thinking of others, safe because of sheer, dumb luck that allowed her to continue being who she had always been.

But even despite the glitter of remorse beginning to shine through, you needed her to understand that you were done. That she had crossed a line she shouldn’t have. That for all the things she said and all the hurt she caused, you were the reason she was allowed to strut around town and act that way. You were the reason she was safe behind these walls and had an abundance of food. You were the god damn reason.

“Don’t you ever lay another hand on me, you understand? I will put up with your words, with your gossip, with you stealing every chance for me to have something good. But you will regret ever thinking of putting your hands on me, you hear me? I will fucking end you and make all your rumors true if you do it again.”

Her shuddering breath was the only response you got from her, but it was enough. You turned your back on her, grabbing your coat from the back of the stool you had been occupying, and walked out into the still falling snow.

“JOEL!” The bellow of his name, loud and alarming, startling him from where he had fallen asleep on the couch. He had collapsed there after returning from your place. He had frozen, all the sentiments he had planned to share with you died on his tongue the second you shared with him how much he had hurt you. It seemed it’s all you had experienced since coming here long before he and Ellie did. He hadn’t wanted to argue with you or belittle the things you had said, so he hadn’t. No words or feelings he had would have righted the wrongs done to you.

He felt unworthy of you, having played a part in it. He felt like he failed you, tricked you into an easy camaraderie when he knew after that first smile it would never be enough for him. He should’ve been honest from the beginning, told you he wanted to be someone to you. But instead, he had botched it, he had fucked up.

“Holy shit, dude, you need to come quick!” Ellie hollered as she barged through the front door, the handle slamming into the wall of the entry way and he had the errant through to put a piece of wood there to prevent it from happening again before it tore through the drywall.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He was hurtling up, hands reaching for the panting teenager as she came into the living room. Her eyes bright and shining, her hands trembling. She allowed him to pull her into his chest, his heart thudding, anxiety humming through him harsh and hot.

“It’s not me, it’s Olive.”

His heart stopped, his heart stopped because it was no longer in his chest. It was on the floor, bleeding and immobile between their feet.

“Is she…?” He didn’t even know how to finish his sentence. Gone? Hurt? Injured? Stood in front of Marsha or Millie just taking their words directly? The worst thought of all being shaken from his head because he couldn’t bear to give it life.

“She freakin’ lost it. She went ballistic on Millie at the bar. It took two people to pull her off and then she hurt them too. She was shouting all this stuff about how shit people treat her and then she took off.”

“Took off, Ellie, where?” He pushed her back to duck his head and caught her eyes. Worry spiking and making his mind run through all the possibilities. He needed to know where you went, even if you had sent him from your home with a hollow and broken heart.

“I-I don’t know, she just ran out the door and was gone by the time I tried to follow her.” Ellie reached up and held onto his wrists, her fingers wrapping around them and he realized for the thousandth time how small she was. How much things affected her, how her own trauma showed in ways they could both anticipate and in ways they could not. Seeing violence first hand since settling here seemed to have triggered her and he didn’t like it for either of you.

“It’s okay, baby girl. I got you, you’re okay.” He hushed, his words pressed into her forehead. She was trembling and he hated that he couldn’t do anything to help her. She clung to him, the winter already a harder time for her than the rest of the year. Awful memories associated with it that no matter how hard she tried to tamp them down, rose to the surface. He held her, offering his built up warmth to sooth her and when the sniffles stopped he lowered them both to the couch.

“Y-you should go find her, Millie tore her stitches open. They took that ungrateful dumbass to the infirmary. But Olive took off.”

“Okay, but we’re taking you to Tommy’s okay?”

Minutes later they were across the street and knocking on the front door.

“Tommy, listen, I know it’s late. Believe me I know but Ellie needs to take your guest room and I need to know where Olive would go if she’s upset?” Joel didn’t waste any time, speaking as soon as the door began to open. Tommy just looked at him for a second, eyes taking in the thinly veiled panic on his normally calm and collected brother.

“Joel, what in the hell, what’s going on, what are you talking about?” His eyes snapped into focus, lack of sleep vanishing as he realized something happened.

“Olive, she snapped. Something about Millie starting something with some insults that turned into the two of ‘em going off on each other at the bar. Word is she took off, but she’s not at home and she didn’t come to me. Tommy, where would she go?” Joel ambled into the house, his hands soft on his brother’s shoulders as he tried to get the man to focus.

“She, uh, she’s never done anything like this before. She, um, she could have…” Joel could see that his brother was trying to focus on the situation at hand brought to him in the middle of the night, trying to think on so little sleep and energy.

“Tommy!”

“Maybe the cemetery?”

“The council needs to hold thar girl responsible. She should have to go on Olive’s patrols until she’s healed. I mean it, Tommy. I want it done.” Joel gently guided Ellie to the couch, urging her to sit down so he could wrap the throw blanket on the back of it over her. He moved into the kitchen and started a kettle for a cup of tea. Something soothing for her to find sleep easier.

“Joel, I know you’re upset. But Millie’s never been beyond the gates. Her entire family has been here since the walls went up.”

“And that’s why she feels entitled to act the way she does. Slinging insults and making fun of Olive, holding things against the woman like it’s her fault that despite the walls there are still very real threats out there. Not every one of them is avoidable. She needs to learn somethin’ and she needs to do it quick.”

“I can talk to Maria about it, but yeah, you have my word she’ll be put on patrol. Are they okay though?”

“I can’t say much for Millie, but Ellie said Olive pulled her stitches ‘n I gotta go out and find her.” The kettle began to whistle, and Tommy took over on making tea for himself and his niece.

“Then go find her, make sure she’s alright.”

Joel tried to tamp down his anger as he knocked on the front door. It was a momentary stop on his way to where Tommy suggested. The weather had calmed down, but not enough to make it an easy trek. The winds were still howling, though they weren’t nearly as devastating as earlier, snow floating down in soft waves.

“Joel? Oh, it’s so late, is everything okay?”

“I told you I wasn’t playin’ games with you.” He didn’t try and tamp down the frustration in his voice, it needed an outlet and the woman in front of him was a worthy for it. He cut off her startled question.

“Your daughter instigated a fight with Olive tonight. Called her names for the whole town to hear. Raised her hand and physically accosted her. That your best attempt at helping to ease the tension you’ve caused? That how you think people should be treated after spending hours to ensure everyone in town got breakfast in the midst of a blizzard?”

“Joel, Olive hit first. I’m sure of it.” She moved away from the door, from the bulk of him to shove her hands into a thick jacket and her feet into a pair of boots. Joel slammed his hand on the door frame, anger flaring at the woman’s nonchalance toward you.

“It doesn’t matter! Do you have any idea the torment you’ve caused her over the years? Millie is lucky Olive walked off. Talking to her and approaching her like that unprovoked. Olive was just defending herself. She was minding her own damn business like she always does!”

“Joel, do not raise your-“

“I’ll raise my voice when I damn well want to! You need to hear me and listen: both of your little stunts resulted in Millie going on the roster. She’s Olive’s replacement on my morning patrols now. To ensure she learns just how much of a responsibility it is to protect the settlement and deter her from further disrespect to those that go outside the gates every single day to protect this town.”

“No, no she can’t go outside the walls. She-“ The woman’s hands grappled his arm, desperation making her forget everything else in that moment.

“She will learn that there is more to living in a broken world than hurtful gossip and petty vendettas. Take it up with the council, but they’ve made their decision. Olive is missing. Your daughter is at the infirmary.”

He stalked off, not willing to wait around to hear what other nonsense the woman had to say. He had to find you, You hadn’t gone to his brother’s, which he would’ve thought to be the obvious answer. You hadn’t gone to his, of course maybe you would’ve before this morning. His body aching from sitting on your small stoop waiting for your return only to go there for a moment to find it dark and empty. The winds whipped around him, snow blinding and chilling when flakes got stuck on his eyelashes and in his scruff.

He needed to tell you. He needed to tell you that he’d pick you over everyone in the whole damn settlement if you’d have him. But first he needed to make sure you were okay in order to do that.

Everything was so fuzzy, the edges of your vision fading. The bright snow all around the streets, falling from the sky, it hurt to look at. It hurt to keep your eyes open, but you did as best you could as you clutched to your bleeding middle and stumbled down empty streets. Blood was warm between your fingers, against your palm. The stitches put in place a few days ago now pulled from your skin and tearing even more damage across the wound there.

It wasn’t cold anymore, not by the time you had made it through the creaking iron gate and settled in front of a headstone. Everything was numb and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up as you realized.

The look of shock on Millie’s face shouldn’t be funny, it was sad. That no one had ever given her a taste of her own medicine. You didn’t hold anything against her, it wasn’t in your nature. But you wouldn’t say you liked her, that part of you had died along with Aiden. You had tried to continue to be her friend after everything, that fateful patrol. But she had pushed you away, had been quiet and reserved in her grief.

Until she hadn’t. She had shifted to harsh glares and sharp words. Basically heading the town to lay the blame on you. Her mother dutifully at her side. But you didn’t fault them. You knew loss was hard long before they had. You knew that it twisted people up inside and made it hard to feel okay. But you had never taken it out on anyone, instead closing in on yourself. But that had backfired, turned into a spectacle at the bar amid most of the town’s older occupants. Entertainment for them. More ammo for gossip and hurtful words.

In trying to ignore them, you had made it worse. Of course you had.

You lay slumped against the headstone, consciousness wavering as the wind pressed you into it. The snow began to settle over your legs and in your loose hair. Hat and scarf left behind in your rush to get out of that damn bar. You don’t know how long you laid there, pressing your face into the headstone, tears falling from your eyes and stinging as they froze on your cheeks, on your lashes, around your puffy eyes. Coughing, you felt the warmth of a thick liquid and taste of metal as blood splattered over the name etched into the stone.

You were tired, exhausted. Your body no longer hurt and it was a relief to be without the low thrum of anxiety, the smoldering heartbreak in the shape of broad man weighing down your chest, the ache in your hands from hours of chopping and stirring and mixing, the swelling in your legs from standing for hours everyday to prepare meals for people who couldn’t care less about you. It was all gone and it was a relief.

You tried to peel your eyes open, but they were so heavy. Unseeing when you managed to, it was so dark around you. There was no way it should be that dark in the late hour with the snow blanketing the town and the sky swathed in snow clouds. But it was and it didn’t bother you. You didn’t want to see anything anyway. Not when you closed your eyes against the darkness, you saw a soft smile tugging at plush lips that had felt good against your own below a pair of sparkling brown eyes. You saw Joel Miller and that was good enough.

You weren’t aware of the darkness being a shadow falling over you, a body dropping to its knees as it spotted you on the ground. You weren’t aware of the shout of your name, your actual name, nothing breaking the unconsciousness you had succumbed to. Joel was frantic, his hands hovering over you as he worried touching you would cause more damage. The blood shining on dark on your lips, the sallow complexion of your skin, the hand that had been pressing to your stained and wet middle limp in your lap. All of it was too much and his heart felt like it was humming in his chest as it beat in time with memories of loss and pain flashing before his eyes.

He couldn’t, he couldn’t lose you too. Not now, not like this.

Ignoring his worry, pushing it down, he scooped you up into his arms. The fact that you didn’t startle awake or shout out in pain at the movement didn’t sit well with him, his stomach dropped and his head pounded as he realized how cold you were to the touch, how limp you were. He gritted his teeth against the biting wind, the snow flying all around and began to move through the headstones.

“I made you one.” He croaked. “I made them all for you. All of them, every single one” His hands were warm, cradling you close, trying to tamp down the bleeding from your middle as he walked. “C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta let me save you so you’ll have one. I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything. Olive, please.”

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piedpiperart · 10 months

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Phantom of Gotham 19

Chapter 18

Danny had unsurprisingly not gotten a good night's sleep that night. He was currently staying in an abandoned Firehouse. He was pretty sure he was getting the hang of finding semi-hospitable hideouts. Just to be safe, he had taken to hiding his stuff in the walls when he left. It was tedious, but there was no way he was risking a Red Hood (Jason?) situation. He knew that opening a portal to the Ghost Zone would be a bad idea, and that it could lead the GIW straight to him. That big of a power surge in one spot would no doubt attract them. At the very least, Vlad might also be aware of him in Gotham now. But for some reason he didn’t want to leave.

Sure, He’d be safer if he stayed on the run but he had friends at school, was actually doing well in classes, and he had befriended the local vigilantes. Not that he was avoiding them. He had patrolled a bit with them again- invisible as always- but he’d started to feel eyes on him so he gave them Phantom’s contact info and proceeded to lay low the past few days.

Danny had started feeling a bit paranoid after the whole ghost portal thing, but Batman and Frostbite were already making progress. Batman had even said that the GIW wouldn’t be able to do much in Gotham since he’d alerted the GCPD to reject any attempts at partnership and to detain the Fentons if they were spotted. Danny was still worried about it. Especially with Vlad and his parents. He’d of course told Batman about Plasmius, but in order to keep his own secret he hadn’t told them Vlad was a Halfa too. He was starting to think that maybe he should, just in case he showed his fruit-loopy self in Gotham.

Obviously, Phantom could take Vlad in a fight no problem. It was him against the bats that he wasn’t so sure about. Lack of ghost weapons aside, Vlad also had a propensity for overshadowing people. Often multiple people because of his clones. The two things Danny wouldn’t or couldn’t do.

He sighed. Maybe he was overthinking it. He should just do his best in school and hang out with Tim and Steph like a normal kid for once. Phantom was benched for now, and Danny needed to lay low in case the GIW or … the Fentons were searching for him. If they noticed the power surge of the portal, it’s likely, but who knows. Maybe they didn’t notice anything. Maybe Danny’s still safe.

“Yo, Danny, are you okay man?” Steph asked, nudging him. They were at lunch, having gone off campus to a coffee shop instead of sticking around the cafeteria. Tim was downing his coffee and staring longingly at the second one he ordered like he couldn’t drink them fast enough. Steph and Danny had both gotten sweeter drinks because, as Steph says, they have taste buds that work.

“Yeah,”Danny said, rubbing the back of his neck.”Just an off day, you know? Couldn’t sleep.”

Tim perked up at that.”You know you can always come over to the manor-”

Danny cut him off with a groan. “I told you Tim, I’m not coming back.”

“Yeah I know,”Tim glowered, sipping his drink. “Had to try though, the Demon Brat is still spamming my phone about you. Even Bruce asks for updates.”

“Yeesh, even Bruce?” Steph winced, looking between the two boys. “Yikes Danny. Bruce isn’t known for letting things go. You’re doomed.”

“He’s not ‘doomed’,” Tim rolled his eyes, while Danny sighed dramatically from the other side of the table.

“You know, it’s kind of hard to keep a low profile with a billionaire taking an interest in you,”Danny commented dryly. Tim shrugged.

“Just means he can keep you safe from whatever you’re running from,”Tim raised an eyebrow pointedly at Danny’s scowl. His phone alarm rang and the three of them started packing up to head back to school.

“I don’t want to talk about it,”Danny wrinkled his nose. “And wouldn’t hiding with a billionaire make it easier for them to find me?”

“He’s got a point,”Steph chimed in, getting a look from Tim. “I’m pretty sure Bruce has a room for me just on the off chance I spontaneously need adopting. No doubt they’re gonna keep your room exactly how you left it.” Tim fought back a smile, knowing it was true, but wouldn’t prove his point.

“Pssh, Bruce can be stealthy. No one will even know you live at the manor,” Tim pointed out. Danny snorted. “What? He can be stealthy,”Tim persisted, only for Steph and Danny to exchange amused looks and start laughing. “I’m serious!”

“Sure,”Danny chuckled as he and the others left the cafe and headed back to school. “He’s about as stealthy as the sun. Sure, you don’t see him at night, but when you do see him he’s super intense and the center of attention.”

Steph burst out laughing at that, and Tim made a face. “Okay that’s a fair point but still. I know we all told you before but everyones still worried about you.”

“I get it,”Danny said. More than you know, Danny thought wryly. He knew that if the GIW had a way to track him they’d be led straight to the Wyanes, and then their secret identities would be in jeopardy. Danny wouldn’t allow that to happen. Besides, if he’s on his own he can use his ghost powers to sneak away and fly to a different state undetected. “This is my problem to deal with though. Can we just drop it?”

Tim wilted. “Fine, but if you ever need anything let me know.”

“Will do,”Danny saluted lazily. He would not. And judging by the look on Tim’s face, he knew it too.

The conversation switched to upcoming school projects and classes as they made their way through the school. “Alright, I’m off to class, see ya later,”Steph waved.

“See ya,”Tim and Danny waved. The two boys had chemistry together, so they walked to class side by side. They were a bit late, so they didn’t have much time to chat before sitting down in their seats before class started.

---

Tim was a bit worried about his friend. Sure, he knew Danny could take care of himself, and had superpowers that could help him. But was he taking care of himself? Tim was sure the meal plan Damian had him on was all but nothing while Danny continued to live by himself. He wasn’t too worried, knowing that Danny was pretty good at surviving on his own. Besides, he was pretty sure everyone had scared Danny away with their lack of boundaries.

In addition, Danny was a good person. Tim would be a fool to not see how the kid was trying to protect them. It was nothing they couldn’t handle, sure, but Danny didn’t know that. Even if the bats couldn’t be with him all the time, Tim was sure Phantom was protecting the kid. At one of the meet ups, Phantom had said he’s usually with the bats at night and Danny during the day. Though, the past two days Phantom had more or less said he’d be sticking around Danny more often so he wouldn’t be around much to help the bats. Which was fine. They’d need to find Danny to talk to the Phantom though, because they hadn’t been able to give Phantom a communicator before he disappeared.

A voice came over on the intercom and Tim snapped out of his thoughts to pay attention. Especially since the rogues were keen on attacking schools, Tim was listening to make sure there wasn’t some sort of attack on the way. Oddly enough, it was just about a student needing to come to the office. But that student? Danny.

Danny stiffened next to him, and Tim looked over with a raised brow, silently asking if he wanted company. Danny gave him a small smile and shook his head,”Probably just something about paperwork,”Danny whispered before gathering his things and making his way out to the office while Tim’s head spun with questions. The intercom didn’t give any details, and despite it probably being about paperwork, considering Danny had no actual adult supervision at home, Tim had worries. Parent teacher conferences were weeks away, and Danny hadn’t gotten in any kind of trouble at school. He had a bad feeling about this.

Exactly two minutes after Danny left, Tim raised his hand. “Can I be excused to the bathroom?”He asked and the teacher, Ms. Morgan, sighed but waved her hand to let him go. She was more than used to Tim’s antics, but because of his good grades and lack of friends, she let him do what he wanted. Maybe he should send her some sort of gift basket, he thought. She was a good teacher.

Once in the hallway, Tim beelined for the office on silent footsteps, passing by the bathrooms on his way. He kept an eye out for Danny, pausing when he heard voices coming from the door to the office. Getting as close as possible, TIm busied himself with a nearby locker while he eavesdropped.

“I assure you, this is the best possible outcome for everyone,”Someone was saying. He didn’t recognise the voice, but it sounded like a man.

“I suppose. As long as you keep your end of our deal. I don’t want any of this getting out,”Tim recognised the vice principal’s voice. What kind of deal? And where was Danny?

“Trust me, your school’s reputation is safe. Dealing with these creatures is classified government business. Nothing will get out to the public,”The man was saying, and Tim’s blood ran cold. Creatures? Were they talking about Danny? Did they know? Where was Danny? Tim thought frantically. He needed more information.

“Either way, this is how far I’m willing to help you. Follow the others through the back entrance. I don’t want anyone seeing you or the boy,”The vice principal, Miss Wethers, snapped.

“Trust me, he won’t be seeing anyone from Gotham Academy anytime soon,”He chuckled darkly, and dread filled Tim’s chest. They had Danny? Where was Phantom? How did they know where he was? Tim thought frantically, shoes squeaking on the floor as he quickly made his way to the back door of the school. It was the staff parking lot, and if he didn’t want to run into Miss Wethers or the creepy dude he’d have to go the long way.

On the way, Tim took out his phone, calling Jason and putting a com in. The others would be at school or work right now, and he knew Bruce and Alfred were getting ready for the Gala tonight.

“What is it now, Replacement?” Jason snapped, but Tim didn’t have time.

“The GIW’s at the school, I think they got Danny,”Tim rushed out, turning a corner and skipping down the stairs. “They’re taking him through the school’s back entrance, I’m on my way there but I’m in school clothes,”Tim said, and he could tell by the movement on the other end that Jason was getting his gear.

“Alright, find out what car and where they're going but don’t interact unless you have a way to sneak Danny out without them noticing,”Jason grunted,”Be there in five.”

Tim gave an affirmative and cut the comm, finally making it to the back entrance door. He wasn’t sure if Danny had five minutes, but Tim was confident in his ability to be a distraction and stall for time. He eased the door open and immediately latched onto seven guys in white suits, three of which were carrying what looked like a heavily restrained and unconscious Danny into the back of a big white van. Damn. From what Tim could see, there was a muzzle and handcuffs, but he wasn’t sure if Danny was knocked out or drugged.

“Shit,”Tim cursed as the last guy came through the side of the building with the vice principal behind him. He didn’t have hardly any of his gear on him and they were about to leave. Taking out what he had in some hidden pockets, he activated a tracking device and took aim, hitting the van perfectly on the back of the vehicle, near the back right tire.

Tim chewed on his bottom lip nervously as he watched the van doors close. For a small group they were very efficient and fast at getting Danny out and on the road. Tim eased out from behind the door and made his way behind some cars, following the van’s path as they drove out of the parking lot. He knew he couldn’t keep up from ground level, so he climbed up to the rooftop of the nearest building when he had a chance to do it without being spotted. The whole time he felt nothing but worry for Danny.

“Hood, come in, where are you?” Tim asked impatiently. “They’re in a white van, sending you the location now. I managed to get a tracker on them but couldn’t get Danny out.”

“Two minutes out. How’s the kid?”Hood grunted, and Tim could hear the sounds of his motorcycle in the background.

“Not great. They have handcuffs and a muzzle on him, and he was unconscious when they loaded him into the van,”Tim reported, and Hood cursed.

“I see em’,”Jason said, and Tim could hear the roaring of his motorcycle across the street. Tim brought up his phone and used it to pull up the tracker he’d set on the van. He took a second to catch his breath from roof hopping, and tried to calculate their path.

“Looks like they're headed towards the docks or the outskirts of Gotham,”Tim cringed. That’s also where a bunch of warehouses and abandoned buildings were located. It would be hard to find Danny around there if they manage to get away or ditch the van.

Suddenly, there was an explosion and Tim looked up from his camera with wide eyes. Looking over the edge of a building he was perched on, he could see the van scurry to a stop, smoke and what looked like the aftermath of an explosive right in front of them. “Jason?” Tim exclaimed, only to catch a glimpse of the Red Hood coming out of the smoke dramatically. He sighed a breath of relief.

“What, worried about me Timbers?” Jason sing-songed, and from the roof Tim could see two agents exiting the van as Jason drew his guns. Tim huffed a laugh. “Stay out of sight, not sure what weapons they have on hand.”

Jason sneered at the white-suited agents as they approached him with a haughty walk. “The fuck do you think you’re doing kidnapping kids in my territory?” Jason called out to them, and the second guy paused. They weren’t actually in Jason’s area, but Gotham counted as his territory when he wanted it to be.

“You misunderstand,”The first agent said calmly, holding up his glowing green weapon nonchalantly. “I’m agent K with the Ghost Investigation Ward, we’re simply taking the entity in. It’s just possessing the boy, and it’s our job to apprehend it. You’re interfering with government jurisdiction.”

Jason let out a breath, but cocked his guns. “I don’t care who you are or what you’re doing. Step away from the vehicle before I start shooting.”

Agent K looked incredibly annoyed and yet smug as he slowly lowered his weapons. “Fine, we’ll do things your way. Agent O?”

At that, the other Agent dropped his weapons, including what looked like a glowing green grenade that rolled towards Jason. Hood cursed and leaped away as it went off in a flash of green light, firing at the Agents as they pulled out their weapons. Jason hadn’t seen any weapons like theirs in action before, but it was clearly heavy duty. Agent O even tried to shoot a fucking net at him like he was some kind of crime fighting fish. Frustratingly, they kept him on his toes while he ducked behind a car. Jason managed to hit Agent K in the shoulder before the two ducked behind the car door. Hood caught a glimpse of them inching back to their van, and made to follow when suddenly the van itself rumbled.

Tim and Jason’s eyes widened as what looked like missiles and lasers appeared from the van and locked onto Jason. “Shit,”Jason cursed, woefully unprepared for their tanked up van. Three missiles immediately took off, and Jason did his best to get to better cover while green lasers shot at him. One of the grenades from earlier hurtled towards him too, and it was at that moment that Jason vowed to blow up each and every one of those white suits in the van. He hissed as a lazer caught his leg and grazed his side. Clearly the weapons were made to hit ghosts, but damn, they still hurt. He needed to step back and regroup. As much as he hated to admit it he’d need backup. Or more firepower to counter these weapon-crazed maniacs.

“Hood! They’re getting away and the tracker is down!” Tim shouted in his ear. Jason grimaced.

“Little busy here,”Jason grunted as two missiles collided with each other, but the force of the blow blew him back, dragging his feet on the pavement. The third one struck him before he had time to dodge, and all he heard was the screeching of tires getting further away as it went off, sending him into darkness.

Tim cursed as Jason was thrown back into a building before slumping to the ground. The van was gone and the tracker malfunctioned when the weird energy sources of the van's weapons activated. As much as Tim would have liked to go after Danny, he didn’t have a car or his Red Robin suit, nor a way to track them anymore. And Hood was down, He thought dryly.

Hood was already moving by the time Tim skidded to his side. There was no blood, so Tim figured it was just a lot of percussive force damaging his brother. He’d have a lot of bruises for sure. As Hood grumbled and caught his bearings, Tim helped him stand, finding burns through his armor on his side and left thigh from the lasers. He grimaced in sympathy.

“You okay?” Tim asked once Hood was standing. He didn’t seem injured too badly, but might have a concussion if not for the red helmet on his head.

“Yeah,”Hood coughed. “Nothing I can’t handle. Wasn’t prepared for that shit though. The fuck do they have so many heavy duty weapons?” Hood spat, brushing off Tim’s hands. “Any way to track them?”

Tim shook his head. “I didn’t see Phantom anywhere but they managed to get Danny by roping the vice principal into setting up a trap for him. I didn’t notice until after they had him.”

“Shit, think they got Phantom too?”Jason swore again, but went over to where his motorcycle was, dragging Tim with him. “C’mon, we’ll find them.”

“Yeah,”Tim responded, feeling his brain buzz with anxiety and plans. He’d have to figure out where the GIW base was, how they got into Gotham, and hack into the CCTVs to figure out if Phantom was around. A helmet was shoved into his arms and Tim jolted back to the present.

“We’re on our own for this one. B and the others are on their way to the Gala already,”Jason said, revving the motorcycle. “Sides, not much we can do until we track down the van. We’ll gear up at my place and come up with a plan before looping in everyone else.”

“I can loop in Spoiler,”Tim added, twisting his arms around Hood’s waist. Jason grunted in agreement and they made their way to Jason’s apartment without following most traffic signals. The whole way, Tim worried about his friend and what the GIW would do to him. Though he had one big question hanging over him. Where was Phantom?

Chapter 20

#Phantom of Gotham #Danny phantom #dpxdc #dcxdp

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n3x0tic · 2 years

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Batfam: Male reader being a vigilante in Gotham city

Male reader is inspired by Miss Yelan and Miss Ningguang from Genshin Impact. Also, this is a story concept I had worked in like 20 minutes in my head, but I’m unsure wether I’d write it out or not.

As a vigilante, you carried an advantage due to you being a meta-human. Your powers consisted of turning invisible, a little speed, and the ability to control translucent like threads at will.

Your vigilante persona, V/n, was born from the brutal death of you parents, the dissolution of your family’s assets, and the abandonment of those whom your family ever helped in the past. You began researching everyone your family was acquainted with, only to discovered them to be more than what they portrayed.

Your first encounter with the bat family started when the team detected an unusual activity related to gangs within Gotham’s borders. Two member of the team were in patrol, they were none other than Nightwing and Red hood. While the eldest decided to stay and study your moves and intentions, Red hood was quick to confront you in person.

They inquired what your purpose was, and the possibility of discussing an alliance was silently spoken, but you waved them off, telling them not to intrude on your business, and it’s better for you to work alone. After that you vanished slowly, blending into the night.

Bat family tried for months to decipher how you operated in your line of work. They discovered that you mostly worked gathering information through a well hidden network inaccesible to them, due to the fact that you didn’t utilize tech to gather information. You confronted gangs, and organization working in secret, disturbed their work flow all to maintain peace, valuable information and surprisingly enough, money.

What they didn’t know was that your life as a vigilante was a hidden life much like theirs. You were also a businessman, and highly aggressive when it came to business investment and new projects. It was mainly for money, but also it gave you an advantage to you and the company when it came to information. Let us say you drove a hard bargain with intel alone in the table.

Batman was particularly enamoured with they way you worked, due to the similarities of working under the night, beating their enemies almost close to death, I guess he saw a bit of him in you, and it wasn’t figuratively speaking, not yet anyways.

You as Y/n L/n, an investor, and a bargainer, had a sweet-sour relationship with Bruce Wayne. You weren’t enemies, but it was more of a rivalry. You always swooped in to take business offers from his hands, while also contributed, but that last part came always at a higher price. Thankfully you delivered excellent, and always guaranteeing a sense security and quality when it came to partnerships and exchanges.

You also opened many places for those who were abandoned, hated, rejected, and sought out people, all coming from kids, teenagers and adults whom contributed to your cause inspired by you.

When you finally decided to have an alliance with the team was when you saved the robins on one of their missions who happened to be at one of your reconnaissance missions on one company you’d had your interest, and saw that they were engaged with some nefarious affairs. They were surrounded and greatly outnumbered, when you suddenly swooped in unnoticed, and with you threads you easily immobilized them. Soon after that they saved you from an explosion after you tried to cover them from an explosion, the impact of such, left you unconscious.

That night you were pinned against the wall, as they were aware of your identity to much to their surprise, thankfully, you agreed to team up after thinking for half hour and realizing that in a business man point of view, the intel you’ve gathered alongside with them was an opportunity of expansion and conquering you’ve never imagined.

They often invited you to have dinner in the manner as a way of team building exercise and getting to know each-other, but as much to their dismay, you were too much of a business man, and very much alike to Bruce in the sense that you only revealed what was necessary and limited what was important of you as a person, and your hidden investments.

You got along with Damien, and Bruce due to your similarities in stoic like personalities. However, to much of their surprise you were good friends with Barbara, who gave you more ample information thanks to befriending her father working in Gotham PD.

Although you didn’t want to admit it, sparing with the bat family was exciting, and sparing with Red hood was more thrilling due to you banter and flirting when fighting.

You weren’t interested in dating but you couldn’t lie when it came to the Wayne’s attractiveness, they each had some unique traits and qualities that always seemed to peeked your interesting. Even if you may had indulged in some flirting, snarky remarks, and everything that may call their attention, you knew better then to mix business with pleasure, even if the considered you part of the family or even if the body wanted what the body needed so badly.

#batfam #x male reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x male reader #x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x male reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x male reader #batfam headcanons #jason todd #jason todd x male reader #tim drake #tim drake x male reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x male reader #lgbtq #gay

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mzminola · 3 months

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If we find some other way for War Games to kick off (or just...not have that arc, idk), I think my ideal end for the Robin!Steph arc would be for her, not to fuck up and get fired, but decide, on her own, that she prefers being Spoiler.

What she wanted was training, respect, and (ugh, DC, why?) to get back at Tim for the misconception that he cheated on her. The first two don't require being Robin (Bruce gave her a smidge during the Brentwood arc) and the third can be resolved through communication, or if we really want some interesting character growth, Steph confronting her own vindictiveness, wrestling with whether she cares more about Getting Revenge or Helping People.

Actually, that could tie back into her intro and subsequent early appearances pretty well? She became Spoiler to get back at her dad, but later shows up solving crimes in the suburbs pointing out that the Bats tend to focus on the main island city. She also wants to impress her crush, but moves away from that impetus over time. So deciding, "I built Spoiler into something more than revenge, and I want to keep building Spoiler, not get mired back in revenge as Robin," would be some growth.

So yeah, wrap up with Robin!Steph arc by her showing up at the Batcave in her Spoiler suit, mirroring how she first showed up in her handmade Robin suit, and tell Bruce she wants to split time patrolling the suburbs like she used to, and patrolling the city with him for more training. That being Robin was an honor, but she's Spoiler, and she's proud to be Spoiler.

This could be a kick in the pants for Bruce; by reclaiming Spoiler and laying down new terms of partnership, letting go of her grudge against Tim, she's acting more mature than Bruce (who it's implied made her Robin in an attempt to lure Tim back). Maybe this sparks him to reassess how he's handling the Jack situation and Tim's absence, reaching out in their civilian lives or otherwise doing something direct to maintain that important relationship.

#or Bruce has a negative character arc and perceives this as a huge rejection #and somehow this leads to him kicking off War Games #maybe he fails to reach out to Tim and with Steph stepping back goes into an Everyone Leaves Me #I Must Continue The Mission Alone spiral #we could help that spiral along by having Cass out of town because she's teamed up with more people #and of course Dick is busy with Nightwing things #but Bruce could have a positive character growth arc optimism is possible #anything is possible in comics #fic ideas #or canon rewrite ideas #adaptation ideas etc #Stephanie Brown #DC #Batfam #Spoiler #Robin #Robin Steph Arc

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moeblob · 11 days

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I normally don't repost my art like this but since most of these are just posted as one picture I also don't wanna reblog a lot of posts. So! Please look at my Dream Wardens. I love them so much.

For the outfit meme thing btw, I would like to point out they don't really need sleep and they exist to work so no need for fun outfits. HOWEVER! Marcus and Colette's ties are the other's eye colors. Sil and Luce have gray ties because Luce was more recent (still a hundred years of partnership) so it's pretty much "you're being scored to make sure you can keep the job" and they eventually would get ties to match the other's eyes color.

The basic premise is! They live in a realm filled with dreams which they have to keep watch over to make sure don't escape. Whether dreams or nightmares, they must be contained. So it's kind of like a prison - each person has a cell that contains their dreams. There are.... a lot of wardens. But each "floor" has eight wardens and it's a circle where the wardens work in pairs. So Marcus and Colette are the focused pair and then they make rounds, they'll end the shift in a rest area where they either hang out with Luce and Sil or Sophia and Ruby. Those are the four they interact with while those four have another duo that they meet on their rounds.

The wardens cannot die. Literally impossble. They can get injured but it heals really quickly. So while Marcus would prefer to not be impaled (again) it wouldn't actually kill him. He'd just be sore.

They also just do not age. So they're centuries old. That said, for a while Colette had a different partner who retired and she got Marcus... and Marcus was incredibly quiet and reserved and scared of messing up for like 10 years before he started to warm up to her. (Time do be feelin' different there) And then he opens up a bit to Sil and Robert who was his partner at the time. And then hundreds of years pass and Marcus is super comfy with them (Sophia and Ruby still intimidate him a bit but that's different) and suddenly! No more Robert. Now it's Luce. And Marcus spends five years avoiding any and all conversations with him because oh no he's hot. Sil gets interrogated by Luce because "have I offended him in some way? he won't even look at me" and Sil is just "dude's shy. took him ages to warm up to me and my previous partner" and eventually Marcus laughs at something Colette says and Luce is like "ohhhhh nooooo I'm doomed he's so cute". While the entire time Marcus has been refusing to attempt conversation because "no he's handsome I'm doomed since I'm bad at conversations".

And they mention Robert sometimes (Colette, Marcus, and Sil) around Luce and Marcus seems chill about it. But then Marcus gets a serious injury that will recover but it would impact his job too much to patrol without a head so they send a temp replacement and it's Robert. And Sil is like "oh oh trade you Luce for my old partner give him" and Colette "are you kidding? you had him for sooooo long I wanna patrol with Robert now! it's only gonna be a little while!" and Robert just .... doesn't wanna be there. And when Marcus is fit to return he begs the people in charge of their routes to NOT LET ROBERT LEAVE until he can say hi and they let him. Unfortunately it involves Marcus busting into the break room saying "ROBBIE ROB!" and Robert sighing but standing up and extending his arms for a hug. Two pats on Marcus' back. and "okay bye". Luce is left in absolute despair cause he's never seen Marcus that happy oh boy.

Anyway my dream wardens mean a lot to me and I really miss them now.

#my characters #listen this isn't even all of them but holy moly i love them so much #this doesn't even show colette's gf! who has freckles!#also not pictured is robert whomst i fucking love and hes not there in plot often lmao #you really can see .... my art has changed..... very vaguely..... since i started drawing them and how it is now #there is too much under the read more and im so sorry i did try to contain it for those that arent interested #gonna draw for today now but just wanted to info dump my silly lil guys #my lil dream blorbos #it would be fun to make more image dumps thematically but maybe i will do that and shove them onto my side blog instead of here #you guys might not wanna see me dump ocs here #i mean depending on how long you've been here then lol you might have already seen it all

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patrol-partners-batphandom-2023 · 1 year

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We Begin!

Hi! Welcome to the Patrol Partner event’s Tumblr! My name is Jayden, and I’m one of the mods here! There’s also Dusky, and Chimary, as well as Gil from the Batpham discord! This message is an explanation of how the event works, what it is, how to participate, etc. while it isn’t required for you to read, I encourage you to at least skim through!

What is it?

Patrol Partners is a co-authoring event! The event spans the entire month of July, with sign-ups . The event is run by myself, Dusky, and Chimary, with Gil from the Batpham discord helping us run things!

Who can participate?

Just about anyone who wants to! In order to sign up, you must fill out the form, which can be found on the Patrol Partner’s discord server. You can get an invite by one of two ways, one is by already being a member of the Batpham discord, the other is by sending us an ask. Sign-ups close on the 20th of June, and partnerships will be announced no later than the 30th of June!

When is the event?

Sign-ups will be open between May 25th - June 20th, the event takes place during the month of July; starting on the first and ending on 31st, and all writings must be submitted on or before August 8th.

Where does the event take place?

Any fandom space! You can post anything you write for the event anywhere you’d like, so long as your partner(s) agree to it. The actual event will be based out of discord and Ao3, with the actual writing process on either google docs or Microsoft word. The only rule is that the mods (mentioned above) must be able to view the story while it is in progress, and be able to contact you easily without any personal information being leaked (i.e. phone numbers, full names, personal or work emails, etc.)

Partners

For partnering, most of you will be assigned partners at random! You will notice a few questions about partners on the sign-up sheet, and that’s mostly what we base partnering off of. We’ll look at your answers, and group you with people we think you’d both be compatible with, and learn from. In the event that you would like to work with a specific person, we can also try to make that happen!

IMPORTANT

Please keep in mind during all of this that this is our first time running an event like this, and that everything may not run smoothly. If there is an issue or a question you would like to take up with a mod/runner, our Tumblr asks will stay open. There will also be a discord server opening mid-may, where you can talk to other people interested in the event, ask questions, and eventually talk with your partners!

HOW TO ACCESS THE PUBLISHED WORKS

Here is a link to the official Patrol Partners Ao3 collection!

All fics added will have the tag ‘patrol partners event 2033,’ whether on Tumblr or on Ao3.

Hi, Dusky here with some last minute info! We will have posts once or twice a week until the event starts with more info as well as FAQ answers! But before I go, and because I know it will be asked, the tag "Patrol Partners Event 2023" tag is the official event tag and we will have an AO3 collection set up July 23rd for early posters.

FAQs

#DPxDC crossover event #dpxdc #Patrol Partners Event 2023 #Patrol Partners Event Info #Danny Phantom x Batman crossover event

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elleloquently · 1 year

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hey!! requesting an ellie x (female) reader where reader is just as stubborn, protective, and, perhaps, closed off as ellie is. maybe just some angst about how much they love each other but both find it hard to open up and be vulnerable considering they’ve both lost so much. happy or angsty ending up to you!!

| a/n : so sorry this literally took ages my goodness... i kinda went rogue with this one because i had an idea that i really wanted to use eek love ya <3

| c/w : angst, swearing - happy ending

cowboy like me - ellie williams

eyes full of stars,

hustling for the good life

never thought i'd meet you here

it could be love

we could be the way forward, and i know i'll pay for it...

despite the fondness that ellie held for you, she had barely spoke to you when you had first arrived in jackson.

it was almost like looking in a mirror.

she wasn't on patrol that day, but she heard the story that night. some girl they found, alone. the people she was with didn't make it.

ellie saw you, hands trembling but head held high. you were terrified and struck with grief, and despite your determination to seem unphased... ellie saw right through you.

always a survivor, even when you didn't ask for it.

a fighter.

"that girl's a fighter," the phrase always paired with a shake of the head and a chuckle, a gleam in the eye that seemed almost ignorant.

the fight was no longer your own, it was just guilt.

guilt of all the people you had lost, all of the people who didn't get to make it as far as you did. because if you didn't make it in the end, after everything, what would it all be for?

yeah. ellie saw right through you.

you would be lying if you said that ellie didn't also pique your interest - freckles that adorned her cheeks and nose and those green eyes that pulled you in and made you feel tempted to confess your every secret.

you wanted to know ellie.

that's where you came to a different standing, in which ellie was prone to avoid and you wanted to attach. you were tired. desperate to have someone to talk to that would understand everything. if you learned anything, it was that your life could end in an instant. you didn't want to waste time, humming about and stealing glances and never allowing your thoughts to become words.

ellie would disagree. she didn't want another person to lose.

despite the push and pull, the bruised flame of attraction simply couldn't draw either of you away. you had won ellie over. ellie had gotten the girl, and ellie refused to lose the girl.

you found solace in each other, a quiet partnership on patrol. you worked well together, always watching the other's back. the fatal flaw of feeling certainly played a factor, but it was disguised as nothing more than a job well done.

as time went on, you both defrosted with the season. smiles cracked in the daylight, longing stares under the moon. despite the stubbornness, neither of you were stupid. you could never be just friends.

"ellie," you called, looking for her throughout the house. "i'm going."

she appeared in the doorway as you were pulling on your boots. a frown was etched on her lips. "going where?"

you rolled your eyes. silly. "i have patrol this morning."

ellie's eyes widened in disbelief, "bullshit," she called. "we don't have patrol today."

you shook your head. "we don't, i do," you explained simply.

"with who?"

"with jesse," you answered with a sigh. you eyed ellie carefully, trying to gauge her reaction.

"bullshit," ellie repeated in a mutter, beelining for her jacket and shoes. you held back a groan, you knew this would happen, but still thought that it was worth a shot. you followed after her, determined after you spent all night preparing your argument. it was going to be a day off, but really you were still signed up.

"jesse and i decided that-"

"jesse and you decided?" ellie snorted, shaking her head.

you tried again. "ellie, you're on patrol every single day."

she faced you after pulling on her jacket, expression blank. "and?"

of course ellie was on patrol everyday. it made her feel useful. it gave her something to do. it kept her busy, alert. the more time she spent on patrol, the less time she would have to spend alone. thinking. remembering. the less time she would have to spend with her own regret.

"and you should take a break," you enthused, getting to your point.

you tried to go on patrol with ellie as often as you could. you tried to even take her shifts, but she never budged. you had to fight long and hard to even join her on patrol until she finally obliged, something about making sure you were safe. when you were with her, you felt better. if anything went wrong, you were confident in your ability to put ellie first. that was the last thing that ellie wanted. when you were on patrol together, at least she could ensure your safety.

you hated the way that your stomach twisted in knots every time that she had a shift without you.

"i don't need a break, and that's not your call," ellie reminded you. she knew exactly what you were doing.

"you're right," you said automatically. there was no point in arguing against it. "i just think that for today-"

"no," ellie interrupted plainly.

"come on. jesse is more than capable-"

"i know he is," ellie cut you off once more.

you pushed out a breath, determined to hold your ground without losing your temper. "what? and i'm not?" you questioned pointedly.

"i did not say that," ellie spoke, looking at you seriously. of course you were capable. more than capable. in fact, it almost scared her.

“what if i go?” ellie continued, giving you a tight lipped smile. “i’ll go with jesse.”

you frowned, causing ellie to sigh in defeat. you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. it was impossibly tense, trying to be in a relationship where you both tried to counter every possible action before it happened. jackson was safe, especially compared to everywhere else, but the burden of the outside made it impossible to let your guard down.

despite your love for each other, you felt like you were playing a part. it didn’t work, trying to be with someone without opening up, investing yourself fully.

“you’re not on the schedule,” you tried lightly.

“that’s funny, i think i originally was.” ellie raised an eyebrow, scanning your face.

you had to stick it out, you knew it and ellie knew it.

"come on, els," you tried. softer. "you've been so tired."

"i've been fine," ellie pressed. she was trying not to be stern, but she wasn't doing a good job.

you faltered, and ellie was quick to pick up on it.

your friendship, once upon a time, felt easy. it was built upon mutual understanding and respect. you went well together, until you ventured into a new territory. desperate to be closer but unwilling to open your hearts, you felt doomed. you once worked well together, but the more you began to care, the more it was a constant competition to protect the other.

you were both growing selfish.

"i'm sorry," you finally said, but none of the tension was relieved from ellie's features. "i'm sorry, it won't happen again."

your apology didn't ease ellie's nerves, as she looked more troubled than before. you didn't wait for her to speak again, and instead made your way to the front door.

"don't." ellie warned. your hand hovered above the doorknob.

you were growing tired of the dramatics.

"ellie, it's just patrol."

"so why the shift change?"

at this point ellie couldn't tell if she was truly still annoyed, or just stalling to keep you in her presence a little longer.

"i'll be back soon," you dismissed. when you left, ellie didn't follow you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the house was empty by the time that you had gotten back from patrol. ellie's place was empty too.

you spent about twenty minutes sulking about until you dragged yourself out of the house again, deciding to go to the tipsy bison.

a sigh escaped you at once when you spotted ellie, accompanied by jesse at the bar.

"hey stranger," you tried meekly, sliding into a seat beside ellie. ellie didn't meet your gaze, though her cheeks turned crimson.

jesse shot you an apologetic look. he mouthed good luck and patted your shoulder before quietly excusing himself.

you waited, hoping that ellie would speak but she didn't. the tense air was growing unbearable. you had been fighting it off for weeks, but the fight wasn't necessarily helpful if you both danced around every difficult topic.

"was he here to smooth things over?" you asked, no longer being able to handle the silence.

"yeah. but i'm not mad at jesse," ellie answered, giving you hope.

"oh, that's goo-"

"because obviously it wasn't his idea." ellie gave you a pointed look, and your heart lurched. at least she looked at you.

when ellie was on patrol, it wasn't a big deal. she did what she had to do and she did it efficiently. it was routine. when you were on patrol, ellie could only think of the million things that could potentially go wrong. she knew that you had already experienced the worst of what the world had to offer, you weren't a stranger to loss. however, ellie also had a glance into your heart, and she felt deeply that you deserved more than what the world had given you. her own pain made her feel hollow. she was resigned to it, almost fearful as if she were losing the fight for her own life. but for you? it wasn't fair. none of it was fair, and ellie wanted to make sure you would never have to experience anything like that again.

which made it so much more difficult when you were trying to do the same thing for her.

neither of you spoke about it, ever. too proud to admit your fears, too scared of the idea that if you said them out loud, they would suddenly become true. you grew fearful that resentment would grow in its place.

you swallowed hard. "i know it was stupid."

"you can't do shit like that. how am i supposed to protect you if you do shit like that?" ellie posed, shaking her head.

you frowned, eyebrows knitting together. "your job is not to protect me."

"isn't it?" ellie gaped at you, exasperated.

"no," you replied with narrow eyes.

ellie opened her mouth to speak, but quickly changed her train of thought. "then why do you act like it's your job to protect me? i don't need that," she snapped.

you gaped at her, not wanting to say something that you might regret but also knowing that she was right. it was an exhausting, endless fucking cycle and you just wanted to be able to feel like a person around her, and not like you constantly had to be on the defense.

ellie retreated when she saw the look your face. "i need to get some air," she mumbled, leaving you alone before you had a moment to protest. you quickly got up as well, blindly following along behind her auburn hair.

it didn't take you long to catch up, and you were tugging on her arm within a moment. ellie stopped in her tracks instantly.

"i feel like... like i don't know how to be... just a.. girlfriend?" you awkwardly ranted, looking anywhere except for at ellie.

ellie forced out a heavy sigh, rubbing her eye with the back of her hand.

"it was easier before. at least, i could pretend it was. now it feels like there's more on the line and i-" you hesitated, shaking your head.

"i wouldn't forgive myself, if something happened," ellie said flatly. "i couldn't."

"i know," you murmured. you knew that you loved ellie. ellie knew that you loved her. and yet, it felt terrifying to say it. to even utter the word in the light of day made you more uneasy than the thought of fighting off infected.

"i really am sorry," you said again. "it was plain dumb. i get so worried, and i feel like i need to control-"

"everything?" ellie finished, a small, sad smile upon her lips.

you nodded.

"i'm sorry i've been tough on you lately, about patrol," ellie mumbled. "i know you can handle it, i just get-"

"worried?"

ellie nodded.

the air was thick and ellie wished it was easy, being in love and accepting that not everything could be up to her.

"i didn't want you to like me," ellie admitted, earning a concerned look from you. "when you first got here. i just knew. and i didn't want to have to worry about losing you."

"you won't," you reassured her. ellie nodded and there was a mutual understanding, an unspoken sympathy for your shared fear. "but i'm scared too," you confessed, hating how weak your voice sounded when the words left your lips.

ellie looked uncomfortable at the sentiment, even though she felt the same way. "it'll be okay," she said, her tone unconvincing.

"ellie," you frowned. "i don't want to be scared to love you."

your words made ellie's insides feel like ice, and she felt like an idiot for all of the times that she had pushed you away instead of pulling you closer. denial wouldn't make it any easier.

"i don't want you to be scared," ellie mumbled, and she really meant it.

you thought that you were over being scared. you'd been face to face with monsters, those of infected and men, and you had managed. but something about ellie made you feel weak, weak in a way that she was your biggest soft spot and you didn't know exactly how to handle it.

you nodded quickly, wanting to laugh off the emotion.

ellie pressed a kiss to your forehead, glancing over your face.

"c'mon, let's get you home, yeah?" she said softly, wrapping one arm around you.

you obliged, on the condition of ellie staying, to which she said that she would stay as long as you would like.

you felt heavier and lighter at the same time, weighed down with the self conscious feeling that came from being vulnerable. lighter, because you were no longer side stepping at any indication of a serious conversation. sure you knew that ellie felt the same way, but being able to discuss it was just different. you loved ellie, and to love her fully was to accept your fear of losing her.

ellie had accepted that she loved you, despite how hard she tried to shut off that part of herself. it kept her human, it kept her alive and it gave her something to fight for.

"don't ever let jesse take one of my shifts again," ellie warned, but her tone was lighter now, more playful than serious.

"i won't," you grumbled, to which ellie kissed your head once more.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou x reader #ellie williams x you

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