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katalyist · 9 months

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Life series!Grian a survivor not a traitor

Alternative title: I thought about Life series!Grian for too long again and because Tumblr doesn't have a character limit I'm putting my thoughts on the Internet.

I'm not normal in how while watching Cleo's secret life final episode there was a silent agreement that Grian was no loyal when they had that conversation with Scott when they were trying to convince Gem to be on their side.

"I mean, don't ask about Grian's loyalty"

And Scott response was "I have never seen a man drop a pair of sunglasses quicker in my life. As soon as Joel dropped, the bad boy glasses were off"

To which Grian responded "My boys died, what did you want from me?"

Like how is Grian seen has someone that betrays or isn't loyal to his teammates? HE IS LOYAL, HE IS JUST TOO COWARD. He has never betray a teammate first.

Look, for example to third life: He promised Scar his life, and altough he warns the rest of players at the beginning about the scams Scar was doing, he always do what Scar did, he helped him, he create traps and didn't thought on betraying him until Scar betray him first, until Scar did it, when he recovered he was so mad and just jump to them shouting out that Scar was a traitor. AND THEN when Scar apologies and offers Grian to have the win he refuses because he still considers Scar his ally, and then the cactus ring happens and he feels bad, he feels bad for killing Scar, I don't think a traitor would be that bad to the point of killing themselves

Then in last life, where he killed two of his four teammates and started his reputation as "allies killer". First of all, when he turned red he had the oppurtinity to just turn on them, sure, he went back to the nether and threat Mumbo, but it was mostly joking and I think the most messed up thing was how afraid he was of not having any teammates that he was willed his best friend but couldn't find the courage on himself. The next episode he has already a plan to go back with his team AND get Joel out of red, like- he planned a way to be back with his allies and get his new ally (that if I had to remember you, was the one that killed him, but Grian was perfectly with him because he understands it was for the red impulses) out of red. Once he gets his yellow life back and goes back to the southlanders for a happy teammate reunion and discovers Jimmy was exiled he doesn't hesitate in saying he doesn't want him back because he betrayed the southlands; they have the votation, he says 'no' inmediatly and is surprised that other people said yes but doesn't oppose to it.

When Mumbo and Jimmy turned red he didn't try to kill them until their few attempts of murder, he did not attack Mumbo when he tried to end cristal him, he didn't attack them, even when they had that terrible attempt of a trap for him and Martyn. He attacked them when Jimmy physically tries to punch him to the trap that he looses the little patient he had left and kills him and then Mumbo for trying to stop him. Then Martyn betrayed him because of the boogeyman curse and when Grian finds Impulse he sounds so wounded because of that but even then he doesn't try to go for him, he makes a plan with Impulse to put a Wither on the base of team B.E.A.S.T because they were one of the biggest threats. Once Impulse died he was back with Joel and he didn't betray or left him, even when he had the opportunity to join bigger alliances than him.

With that out of the way we arrive to the fatal Double Life, I feel that this is the catalyst of Grian's character misinterpretation, mostly because of the cheat situation but: 1, that him and Scar and soulmates doesn't mean they are allies (see the two pair of soulmates that were literally divorce) and 2, he really tried to protect Scar and be a good ally. He made a base, he warned Scar to not go to places he could die and he even trust him with the sugar cane, when he lost it he trust Scar the sand he isn't even that angry or dissapointed on him. It also applies to BigB, he was a great ally with him too! He gave him sugarcane, cookies, tnt, they didn't attack eachother and the only reason why he killed him was because he forgot BigB was soulmates with Ren in his red madness, he even had a funeral for him and apologise for killing him. That is not traitor behaviour if you ask me.

And then finally Limited Life (my excuse and the real season I wanted to talk because I haven't left that bread bridge), the season where Grian is in his most loyal teammate arc of all. He is a coward of course, he plays safe always, in every single season, and that is what ends up being one of the reasons why Joel ends up dead. The bad boys were too reckless and idiots (in an affectionate way, I love them) for him to not fear for their lives constantly, and yes they almost felt apart, but that was after Jimmy killed Grian. Grian left Jimmy get the kills, they were trying to save him, when Tango (the boogeyman) killed Jimmy he didn't took the two hours from him because that would had permakill him, at the end Jimmy didn't die because of him, he just slip from the platform. They had the funeral and all, he left diamonds at his grave as an offer.

With Joel it is a little different, Grian didn't betray him, he didn't kill him, but he wasn't there because he was afraid of dying, in the middle episode 7 Joel wants to murder the family because they wanted to kill Jimmy "It wasn't their fault he died" trying to persude him to not do that to which Joel answers "I'm gonna send Scar a message" and Grian almost begs "No Joel, you got to be careful or I'm gonna be alone. I'm gonna be a singular bad boy" but he doesn't follow him, he doesn't go to kill people with him because they don't have a plan and it's obvious they will die.

Grian is a survivor, when he notices things are getting ugly he looks for a way out. When Joel goes on his murderous rampage after they talk to BigB he reunite again with him and Pearl to offer himself as a ally, making a list of all the things he is useful for, selling himself because he knows he will be alone at the end of that episode and alone players are easy targets. At first he wants them to become bad boys, he doesn't want to leave the mark, but they refused, and a survivor has to do what they have to do. He isn't even hiding why he wants to be friends with them and they don't have a problem with that.

"I have already kind of accepted he's gonna die in a way" he says while making a trap for the nosy neighbours while watching how Joel died (again)

"I mean, you completely abandon him at this point" Pearl points out (and if I watched Pearl more I could talk about how Life Series Pearl seems to have really trust issues with people that is so confident in leaving allies behind because she keeps repeating how Grian is not with Joel, she is so 'I will die for you', and it was prove in the final of secret life, I love her so much).

And Grian doesn't deny it, he does try to excuse his behavior with a "Joel reaches a point where he just loses his mind completely and he was way past that a while ago. Jimmy's death has kind of got an adverse affect on him" just to be silent a second, finish placing the TNT cards and going "But I will have to go and see if he is okay in a minute"

He cares about his last truly ally even when he knows Joel will die, Grian can't just stand still and wait for it to happen "I'm gonna have to go and see if Joel is okay. He must be on less than an hour and if I don't say bye, I'm gonna regret it"

And once he is with Joel again he doesn't hide that he has allied with the nosy neighbours from him. It is the first thing he tells him actually "I've just been like making new friends because you have lost your mind". That is not betray behavior, that is not 'I'm gonna back stab you' or 'I'm leaving you now'. And Joel gets it, he gets that Grian is too coward to confront people directly, that he is not a pvper and accepts him like that. And then they have this conversation on Skynet while trying to get kills for Joel:

"Yeah, do you know what would be really funny? If I just knocked you off right now but I won't, I won't, I won't do that"

"I would do that for you. I would do that for you. Bad boys for life"

HOW IS THAT NOT LOYALTY? Grian, the one that is afraid of death, willing to die for his ally? Without hesitation answering that yes, he would do that for Joel. We have the hole "Kill me Joel. KILL ME" dialogue and scene after that even. Grian didn't wanted Joel to died, when he has five minutes Grian tries to tell him to kill him again before Joel denies. When they are going to see who Joel can kill is when he starts hesitating because he would lose two hole hours to get Joel back to just one hour, he is balancing saving his allies with keeping himself alive and at the end Joel's rampage ends up killing him and Grian is without his bad boy.

He enters in full survivor mode and downplays Joel's death in front of everybody but contradicting his discourse of 'It was getting expensive to keep him alive' once everyone is gone he tells Pearl and BigB they should have a funeral for Joel fully knowing they weren't his allies. He makes Joel a grave too, like they did with Jimmy and says some words for him. How could that not be loyalty? The last episode he uses the bad boy skin, all season he forgot to use it and had to be remember by the others to use it, and then he puts it even if he 'isn't a bad boy anymore' to honor his allies.

I think the most close he was to betray an ally was when at the end he enacted the sword and ally with Impulse and Etho whitouth talking it with Pearl and it ending with both Etho and Pearl killing eachother to be in peace. When they first met after Grian enactes the sword and Pearl goes to kill he tries to stop her, but he doesn't defend her (or Etho), he just tells them to stop. Grian character just... always leaves his allies do what they want? even if it is not the best for them, it is something he does with every one of his alliance really, he does his own and they do his own, Cleo actually points it out on their last episode while they are talking to the heart fundation and Grian gets bored and goes to do his plan to get Gem and Cleo is like 'yeah, he does his own things, don't pay attention to him'.

In Secret Life he was also truly loyal to the roomates, in part I think because he was afraid of loosing his only oportunitty to get some friends after three episodes of loneliness. Grian is always so desesperate to make allies every season, make people like him because it would mean someone would fight for him. The rommates is a very solid team and he reassures himself and they how he made the correct decision. They are not as attach as he was with his bad boys (that, talking about them, he had this weird no-alliance with Joel, changing hearts and not really attacking eachother until the very end) but it is stable.

Grian includes them in his plans, if they are not on board he respects it, but when he thinks it is something that can protect them he insists. He insists they should go to Joel's platform where he hide from the zombie apocalypse because it is the easiest to defend and they were chase by the people with more health on the server. When Etho died they took it seriously, when they are scaping he goes first through the portal that belongs to Gem, Impulse and Scott because "No point both of us dying" he could have left Cleo go first to be more safe but he didn't, he tries to make a trap to get Gem and the Scotts and he tells Cleo to back off because they would get hurt if they stay to close because he will manually activate it.

My conclusion? Grian is not a traitor, he has never betray his teammates until they cross the line first. He is a bad teammate? Oh, totally, not because he won't provide his allies with supplies or plans but because the moment it becomes dangerous, too risky for his constant safe plays he distants himself because he doesn't like risky plays, he is an expert in the 'long game' even if he won't win anything with it, he also has some kind of honor (if you want to put it that way) he won't attack the weakest unless he is corner to do it to keep himself alive, he always goes for the biggest alliance, the people with most hearts, the people with most potential of giving to bring them down with the rest.

As always thank you for reading how normally sane I'm about Life series Grian. Again, I write this mini kinda essays on the fly and don't check facts too much but Grian himself implying he is not loyal had me "are you sure about that?" and then this was write on my drafts. Thanks for coming to my Grian talk!

#traffic life series #trafficblr #grian #limited life #desert duo #bad boys #Grian is loyal even if he doesnt want to #so normal about Grian always

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chemdisaster · 10 months

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secret life joel has seriously got me so fucked up

it's something about how in 3rd life he was all alone, he had his dogs and his all-consuming propensity for destruction and that was that. he had the taste of fire climbing up his throat, the smoke that clouded his vision and turned everything red, and that was all he ever needed, no alliance ever meant a thing to him beyond how it would eventually look when it went up in flames. then in last life he made attempts at something resembling genuine connection, but they fell through and so he fell back on what he knew, what was familiar. he made alliances that only went as far as the shared blood they could draw, willingly relinquished himself to the comfort of loneliness and death, and ended up being damn good at it. he had his fingers with the red dripping from them and not much more, and he never asked for more, either. all he really had was himself and the fire. and he was fine staying like that, everything was as it was meant to be, it was fine.

but then came double life and etho and the relation ship, and suddenly joel had something to fight for, a cause and a direction for the destruction, and when the relation ship burnt it was a conscious, purpose-filled decision to let his own blaze explode outwards and reduce everything else to embers and smouldering ash. joel said, "the ship burns, everything burns," and even when his words came true in the cruellest way possible, when everything burnt and he and etho followed, in the spills of swirling lava, amidst their sizzling remains that quickly dissolved into nothingness, something had changed.

and then came limited life and the bad boys, and at this point joel had known what it was to be wanted and to want, and maybe he never expected the bad boys to matter as much as they did in the end, but it happened before he'd even had time to notice, slowly and then all at once, and there was no denying now that he cared. and this time when he died, it was reckless and desperate and with one name playing on repeat in his ears until the sky came down and he heard nothing at all. he died wanting to stay alive, in a world where suffering and loss grew on you like fungi until it was all you ever knew how to feel, joel died with something to live for and something to die for.

and now here he is. in secret life. and you'd think someone like joel, someone who never really asked for connection, someone who knows how to stay himself with nothing but an army of wolves surrounding him, would get burnt once or twice and close himself right off, go back to doing what he knows and what works. but for someone so accustomed to loneliness that he wears it like a second skin, joel remains startlingly willing to put himself out there. he remembers the bad boys, screams when jimmy dies and gives grian hearts and tells him he would always help him out. he, despite the complicated nature of their relationship and the way they always seem to go for each other in fights, despite how he's made sure to put on an air of being unaffected when it comes to their memories, nevertheless gets in a boat with etho and openly tells him that he still cares, it's just - it's just. when pearl is green and he is yellow, he purposely throws away his guess to ensure that she is safe around him. joel, the character who you'd think would be most likely to spurn every alliance and go back to fighting for himself only because if he doesn't, no one else will - joel, despite all that, is actively trying to be more, more than what he is and what he already knows how to be.

you can see it in how he is as a red life, too. in every previous season, to the point where other lifers have made note of it, joel has become imprudent, excessively reckless and rash when he's gone down to red. in contrast to secret life, where he's more or less calmly completing tasks, gathering resources and preparing himself for possible eventualities. his actions this go around are step-by-step, organised and calculated in a way they weren't before. and obviously part of that is to do with the nature of this season, there isn't much room to be reckless when everything you do has to correspond with what's in your book. and tomorrow is life day, probably the last session, and who knows what's going to happen. but still, it cannot be denied that joel's demeanour has changed to be more collected this time - especially impressive if you remember that he's lost three people he loved already.

over the course of the life series joel has been learning what it is to love and be loyal and fully and unquestionably open yourself up to someone. despite getting hurt over and over again, something that by all rights should have warned him off from getting close to people forever, he's instead taken everything good about those relationships and carried it with him. in a world that pushes everyone to fall to the same character flaws, he's found space for growth and healing, and that is so beautiful it hurts.

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starry-eyes-love · 4 months

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Part 2 of Too Young to Die Mini Series

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Too Young to Die- Mini Series Part 2 out of 3.

Pairing | Massage Therapist Joel Miller x F!Reader with Autoimmune disease, no outbreak, AU.

Summary | Joel takes you on your first date, where you eat pizza and joke together. Quickly, Joel finds out what it looks like to deal with an unmanaged autoimmune disorder. Joel, never faltering, stays by your side the whole way. Fast-forward to three years later, and Joel still helps you deal with the complexities of your body as life changes forever.

Banner image by CAImages on Instagram, banners by @saradika-graphics

Word Count: 6.7K

Warnings | Series is: 18+, Smut, Minors DNI (but no smut in this part)

Language, joking, pizza eating with odd topping choices, hints of smut without any smut, kissing, illness, fainting, pregnancy, boyfriend! Joel, husband! Joel, age gap, no major descriptions of the reader except she is younger and has autoimmune disease.

A/N: This took me way too long to finish writing this part. I found that I kept adding more to the story. I love these two goofballs, so strap in for some fun and relaxing banter, with a few surprises along the way :)

Your first date with Joel went exceptionally well. Conversation flowed easily amongst you where there weren't any awkward moments. Joel teased you for liking pineapple on your pizza, and you teased him for liking anchovies.

“Darlin’, you just ruin perfectly good pizza if y’do all that.”

“Well, at least I don’t put dead fish on my pizza, Joel.”

“Look here. I don’t want to hear any more sass from you, considering you put pineapple on your pizza and add marinara sauce.”

Joel shook his head, clearly not thrilled with your pizza flavor choice. He also saw you dip your pizza into the ranch and then take a huge bite, humming to yourself at the flavor choice. Joel looked over at you, shocked like you were someone who had sprouted three heads.

“Darlin’, now you've gone and done it. Completely ruined the American way of eating pizza.” Joel was staring at you wide-eyed as you placed buffalo ranch sauce on top of your pizza. He was trying to figure out how a beautiful woman like yourself would have the oddest taste in food.

“Mr. Miller, I don't recall you being an expert at pizza toppings. If you were, the fact that you place anchovies on your pizza makes your entire argument invalid.”

Joel laughed out loud at your attitude and shook his head. He loved the easy banter between you two.

“You know, it's a good thing I find you cute, darlin', or I'd have to remind you just how much my argument has merit.”

“And what type of merit would that be, Mr. Miller, because there is none in this instance.”

“Well, baby, if you insist.” Joel sat up straight, placing his pizza slice down to continue. “Fish is healthy and nutritious; it gives you plenty of stamina for any extracurricular activities you want or need to do. Plus, it also makes certain things taste sweeter, too.”

“It doesn't make things taste sweeter, Joel; that's a lie. Pineapple is the one that makes things taste sweeter.”

“So, is that why you ordered pineapple on your pizza, darlin’? You wanted to make sure things tasted sweeter for me later?” Joel smirked at you, raising an eyebrow, knowing the offhanded sexual comment he had just made.

You sat in silence, feeling your cheeks flush a nice soft red. You had no idea that Joel was going to take it there, to a sexual place. You weren't mad at his flirtatious comment; you were just sexually flustered. It has been a long time since any man has given you any amount of attention. You found yourself shifting in your seat, trying to alleviate the slow throbbing that had started between your legs at the casual flirting and banter with Joel. When Joel saw this reaction, he knew that he had gotten under your skin, which was the purpose of his comment in the first place.

“Why ya squirming, baby?”

You just looked at Joel with a soft blush on your cheeks. You didn’t want to tell him that your stomach was in knots and that you were getting more and more turned on by him sitting in front of you.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, wondering if your discomfort was caused by his teasing or if you truly were in pain. The longer he looked at you, the more concerned he became. He could see that you were worrying your lip, eyes cast downward like you were focusing on something.

“Darlin', are you still with me?” Joel asked, seeing that you didn't answer his question, the one he just asked if your discomfort was due to feeling ill. You never heard him because you weren't listening. You were too focused on your hands, twirling your napkin between your fingers and fidgeting, overthinking things again. Will Joel even want me that way, or will he leave just like all the others?

“Hey, honey, I was just teasing about your pizza topping choice. Just joking, you can eat it any way you like, darlin’.” Joel touched your hand affectionately, trying to bring you back to the present.

“I know, it's just- what happens when all of this gets too hard?” You said, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“What? What do you mean, too hard?” Joel was now sitting back and looking at you with a puzzled expression. He was trying to figure out why you suddenly changed your mood. Two seconds ago, Joel was teasing you about your pizza topping choice. You both were relaxed, enjoying each other's company, teasing each other back and forth. But now, the confident woman that Joel had seen just a few seconds ago was gone. He frowned at your sudden change, finding it difficult to remain optimistic about the night's events.

Joel didn't tell or show you he was nervous about tonight's date. He thought that you were beautiful, even though you were much younger. You were on a different path in life. You were 29, looking at living life and planning for your future, while Joel was 47, divorced, and looking towards retirement and potentially becoming a grandfather in the next ten years with two kids that were almost entirely grown up.

Joel has never attempted to date a woman 18 years younger than him; you were the first. Joel didn't know if you could relate to him or if he could relate to you. But the longer you interacted with him, the more he felt at ease. That was until he heard your comment about something being too complicated. It was unsettling to him, especially when his love life and family life were the true definition of what complicated meant.

“Joel, I mean, you, me, and all of this. What happens when all of this gets too complicated?” You were waving your arms around, motioning at the two of you and your surroundings.

“Oh, yeah, I see. Uh, I can understand how this can all be difficult for you or complicated.” Joel felt his heart sink in his chest; he needed to end this before it got any further and before you got any more embedded into his life to hurt him. If you weren't looking for a relationship, he should cut his losses and end it with you. If you didn't like complicated, then you wouldn't like him. His entire life was complicated. Joel had baggage and a lot of it. He didn't want to lead you on if you weren't looking for some type of commitment because he wasn’t looking for anything casual.

“Look, darlin’, if you're not sure, then maybe we should just-”

“I like you a lot, ok? I haven't dated in a while, but you make me feel safe. And no one has done that in a long time. No one ever wants the complications of me being sick, so I get it if you don't, but I want this to work. I don't want you to hurt me, though, when you find out I'm not enough.” You raced the words out, feeling embarrassed for getting this out in the open, but from your past experiences, you knew that, eventually, this conversation would come up. You figured now was the best time to discuss this topic, especially before Joel embedded himself into your life. You didn't think Joel would want a serious relationship with you, being an older man. He probably wasn't looking for commitment, marriage, or kids. Those were things that you knew you wanted. What you didn't want was a one-night stand or a casual hookup. You can't separate sex from love, and you weren't about to start now, no matter how sexy the man was in front of you. You have always liked older men but never had anyone even care to look at you until now.

Joel was amazed at your admission and the guts it took to tell someone that, especially on the first date. But he was also frustrated at you cutting yourself down, saying that you weren't enough when you were. While Joel didn't diminish your feelings, being sick didn't count as a difficulty to him. Could it be a slight hindrance at times? It could, but it wasn't a deal breaker for him. Joel was more of a homebody now anyway, not really into the whole party scene and going out all the time. He didn't care if plans changed. He wasn’t a 20-year-old boy.

Joel reached across the table with a small smile and took your hand. He whispered, “Baby, that's never gonna happen,” as he gently kissed the top of your hand.

“No? How- how come?” You whispered. Your heart was beating fast in your chest as Joel slowly moved his fingertips lightly up and down the inside of your palm. The feather-light touches sent tingles down your spine, especially when he kissed and lightly nipped your wrist.

Joel needed to calm your and his nerves. While he didn't want to have this conversation now, he knew it was better to get these feelings out in the open so both parties could decide how to move forward. That was one thing he learned from his previous marriage: to speak your mind when something bothers you.

Joel stopped moving his hand and looked into your eyes. He could see a mixture of shyness, arousal, and what he thought was also fear; not fear of being with him, but fear of him leaving you. You both were broken inside from past relationships, wanting someone to see you for who you were. Joel didn't know how the future would evolve for the two of you; he just knew that his heart was beating fast in his chest, and butterflies were in his stomach because of the beautiful woman in front of him—someone he desperately wanted to get to know.

“You wanna know why I know that, honey?”

You gently nodded your head.

“It's because I like you a lot, too,” Joel confessed, intertwining his fingers with yours and gently stroking his thumb on your hand. “Honey, I know you're sick, but that won't stop me. We'll figure it out. I haven't felt like this in a long time with a woman, and I’d be a damn fool if I didn't continue seeing you because of it. I don't want casual honey; I want an honest-to-God, committed relationship.”

Joel slowly reached forward and tucked a strand of your hair that fell out of your ponytail behind your ear. He gently cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “So stop fussin', ok? We'll figure it out; it's just you and me, alright?”

You nodded your head, exhaling the breath that you were holding. Joel squeezed your hand once more as he got up to go and throw away both of your trash. As you watched Joel walk away, you knew that you made an excellent decision by agreeing to go on this date with him. You just hoped he was telling you the truth.

After talking for the next hour, you decided to walk to a nearby park. As you slowly walked, Joel reached out and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. It felt so good to have him hold your hand. You could see that he was trying and wanted this to work as much as you did. It made your heart race and your head feel dizzy at the thought that someone actually and truly cared about you and wanted to be with you.

The two of you talked about Joel's life before he became a massage therapist. He told you that he was a construction worker who owned his own business before he hurt his back. After a year of treatment, including painful back surgery to remove a few bulged disks, Joel had to leave that line of work and sell his business to Tommy, his younger brother, who still manages it today in Texas.

“How did you end up in Minnesota, then?” You had asked as you both sat on a bench, eating ice cream from the small ice cream truck nearby.

“Well, that’s kinda a funny story, really,” Joel commented as he stole a bite of your chocolate ice cream, and then you stole a bite from his plain vanilla one. “My daughters, Sarah and Ellie, live in lower Michigan with their mother, my ex-wife.” He paused, seeing if this admission of being divorced and having kids would be an issue for you. When you looked at him curiously, seeing that you wanted him to continue, he told you the rest of the story.

“Well, Tess, my ex-wife, took a job in Michigan when I was 28 when we got divorced. At the time, she had completely signed custody of the girls over to me. When I hurt my back when I was 32, she took me back to court and requested custody changes.”

“What kind of custody changes?” You slowly placed your spoon down from your ice cream. The cold was starting to give you a headache, and you began to feel sick again with your autoimmune.

“Well, she felt I couldn't care for the girls properly because I was injured and healing from back surgery. According to her, I wasn’t working, yet I still owned my business and received paychecks from it. But still, to her, I wasn’t a father who could provide well enough for our girls, which was untrue.”

When Joel looked up at you, he was immediately concerned. You were starting to look pale on your face, and you were beginning to sweat. “She felt she was a better-fit parent to raise our girls, and the court sided with her.”

“What? How?” You couldn't understand how a judge would find him unfit as a parent just because he had back surgery and was injured.

“Well, that’s where it gets interesting. The man she was dating at the time, secretly dating, was the judge who ruled in her favor.”

“Oh my God, Joel. That is- that’s fucking horrible.” You reached out and gently squeezed his hand. You were trying to stay focused, but you kept having moments of dizziness mixed with horrible pain in your back and joints. Your body was suddenly starting to give you a flare-up of your autoimmune symptoms. You always hated it when your body did this, but right now, you were embarrassed because this was not what you wanted on your first date with Joel.

Joel noticed that you were getting worse and more pale in the face. You had officially removed your sweater, and he could see that you were sweating profusely.

“Honey, are you ok? You're not looking good.”

“No, I'm fine. I just need some water, and then I'll be okay.”

Joel got up and bought two bottles of water from the ice cream stand where you two were sitting. When he returned, he handed you one of the bottles and told you to drink. You murmured, “Thanks,” and then asked him to continue his story.

He smiled slightly at you as you murmured you were feeling a little better to him.

“Well, one thing led to another, and I sold my business and returned to school to get my massage therapist license. I wanted to help people with injuries or chronic diseases that make it difficult for them. I had a few back surgeries again along the way, three to be exact, all here in Minnesota with a specialist. I had to live here for an entire year after my last surgery. Tess said that if I were willing to live here full time, she would be okay with letting the girls come every other weekend, during holiday breaks, and then stay with me every summer. So that’s what I did; I moved here to see my girls.”

“Is Tess still seeing that judge, then?” You took your sweater and wiped your forehead. You were now getting horrible hot flashes. You knew that if your body didn't quit, you'd have to end your date sooner with Joel than you wanted.

“No, Tess found out that the judge was married, and he said that he wasn’t leaving his wife for her. Kind of a perfect ending to a shitty situation, if you ask me.”

Joel knew something was wrong when he saw your face lose color and sweat dripping from your forehead.

“Darlin', you don't look well.” Joel knew your autoimmune was unmanaged and that you’d report getting these horrible symptoms when it flared up. But he didn’t expect this to come on so suddenly like this, and it worried him.

This was life with your autoimmune disease. You lived with this disease every day, and sometimes days were good. Other days, like today, made living life very difficult. You had been hoping this flare-up of symptoms would pass, but something was wrong; you could feel it.

“Joel, I'm sorry, I-I don't feel very well. I think I need to go home. I'm so sorry I-”

“No, darlin', don't apologize, it's okay. Come on, I'll take ya home.”

“No, I drove. I can-”

“Darlin', I'm not letting you drive home looking as sick as you are. Now come on honey, I'll drive ya, and we can pick up your car later, okay?”

Joel stood up and walked around the other side of the picnic table, where you were seated. You were mad, hating that your body did this to you. You mumbled, “Great, you blew it again, woman. Finally, get a nice guy, and this crap happens; good luck getting him to go out again with you.”

Joel heard what you said, and it upset him to think that your getting sick would bother him. Yes, it did bother him that you were ill. But not because it messed up the date you two were having, but because of how you looked; he wasn't comfortable just leaving you alone. You were so pale in the face, and you were struggling to stand that Joel was more concerned that you may need to go to the emergency room before the night was over.

As soon as Joel was by your side, he helped you stand. He took in your features and saw how suddenly weak you had become. Your hands had visible tremors, and you kept wincing and grabbing your back.

“Hey, honey, can you look at me briefly.” Joel gently took your hand and was looking at you in the eyes. “First, I don’t care what other people have done before me, darlin’. I’m telling you that I want another date with you, alright?”

When you nodded your head, he continued. “But, more importantly, I'm uncomfortable just dropping you off at home. Is there someone I can call that can stay with you?”

Shaking your head, you mumbled, “No, Joel, I don't have any family around.”

“What about friends? I'm sure you have some friends that care about you enough that they would come and sit with you tonight.”

When he watched you look down, lip trembling at his question, Joel knew that he had majorly fucked up. You, indeed, were alone. This illness took special people away from you at your age. You reminded Joel of a cancer patient going through treatment, especially with how fast the illness symptoms came on. He remembered his mom being like that before she died of cancer. It broke his heart to think that you were struggling through life with this illness and that no one in these moments cared enough about you. He knew you had friends, as you talked about them earlier. But apparently, those friends were only surface-level friends, and when difficult moments like this happened, they were nowhere around.

“Oh baby, c’mere.”

Joel pulled you into his chest and held you for a moment. “How about this, darlin’, I’ll take you home and stay the night with you. Don't worry. I'll sleep on the couch or the floor if you don't have a couch.”

You just nodded, but as you turned to leave, something in the world must have happened because it felt like the Earth tilted on its axis. As soon as you took a step, your vision went blurry, your face hit the ground hard, and you didn’t remember anything after that. You had fainted.

As you turned to leave, Joel grabbed your water bottles and sweater. As soon as he turned back around, it was like slow motion happened for him. Joel watched you take two steps towards the exit, and then all color left your face as your eyes rolled back into your head. You fell to the ground like a ton of bricks. As soon as he saw that you were collapsing, he mumbled “shit” under his breath and then was moving fast to get to your side.

“Baby, come on. Open your eyes for me. Come on, baby, can you open your eyes? Darlin', look at me.” Joel was kneeling on the ground, lightly tapping your cheek. He was trying to get you to wake up after your fainting episode. As soon as you started to come back around, you began coughing horribly. Joel quickly turned you on your side, rubbing your back as you kept coughing.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. I’m right here, slow breaths, come on now.” He was gently holding your head as you lay on your side, coughing and struggling to breathe after your fainting episode.

“Hey man- is she ok?” another man yelled, approaching the two of you.

“Yeah, maybe we need to call an ambulance,” a woman shouted as she quickly approached.

When he heard a third person add their two cents about the situation, Joel's patience had officially expired.

“Yeah, I saw the whole thing happen. She just collapsed, and her father rushed to her side,” another man yelled approaching.

“STOP,” Joel yelled. Glancing down, he saw you wince at everyone’s statements and try to hide your face. This was the last thing you needed: a crowd of people telling you what to do.

“I’m a medical professional, and I have it under control. I’m also her boyfriend, NOT her father, ok? She’s awake now, and she’s done coughing. She stated she didn’t feel well before she turned around. I was going to take her home, and then this happened.”

“Well, I still think she needs an ambulance called. I’m going to-”

“For the love of God, please leave me alone; I'm fine now,” you snapped, turning more on your side to cover your face. You were so embarrassed for fainting in front of Joel and for the crowd that was now gathering around you.

“We were just trying to help; no need to be rude,” one woman said, snapping at your comment.

“Thank you for your concern and help,” Joel said, looking at the woman who snapped at you. “I honestly thought for a moment that I may have needed to call an ambulance for her. But as you can see, she’s ok. I’ll look after her and take her in tonight if she needs to be seen. Is that alright, honey?”

You gently nodded your head, looking up at him. Joel was holding you close to him, helping you feel safe.

“Y’all go home now. We got it under control. Thanks for offerin’ to help.”

People were mumbling as they started to disperse. Joel and you never paid attention to what they were saying.

“Do you think that we can get you to sit up without you passing out on me again?”

Joel gently cupped your cheek, looking straight into your eyes with concern. He didn’t like seeing you sick like this. You gently nodded your head at him as you went to sit up.

“Easy. Nice and slow, sweetheart, don’t rush it.” When Joel saw your eyes start to cross again, he thought he should have let that lady call you an ambulance.

“Woah there honey, come on now, look at me. Do I gotta call an ambulance for you after all, 'cause I will darlin’?” Joel placed his hand on your cheek, looking at you in the eyes. He was shifting his eyes back and forth, looking to see how you were responding.

“I’m fine, Joel. Just give me a minute, ok. If I need an ambulance, I’ll call one myself.”

Joel shook his head, disagreeing with you. “Darlin’, I don’t think you’re qualified to make that determination and decision right now.”

You let out a long and exhausted sigh. To Joel's defense, he didn't know where you worked full-time when you were feeling ok.

“Joel, this is said with as much love and appreciation as I can right now, but fuck off, please. Believe it or not, I’m a Paramedic, and I know-”

“Paramedic or not, passing out and being dizzy doesn’t qualify you to treat yourself. You know this.” Joel hated reminding you of one of the biggest lessons in medicine: you don't treat yourself. He could see you were slightly annoyed and irritated with him and the other bystanders here. He decided that maybe a little humor might help lighten the tense mood.

“For the record, darlin’. I believe the proper term is ‘fuck me, please.’ And you say it when I’m doing just that.”

That made you smile and laugh at the ridiculous statement of telling off the one man still beside you. With a little bit of sass, you also added, “Yeah, and then when we’re finished, you'll moan; ah, fuck, my back.”

“Ah, there she is. There’s my sassy girl.” Joel was now laughing at your sassy attitude and statement that you just made.

Joel looked down at you tenderly. Even though you were ill, you were still so beautiful. Joel cupped your cheek, slowly running his thumb up and down your skin. He watched you bite your lip, looking from his eyes to his lips. Tension started to fill between you both. The air was thick with it. Joel moved his hand to the back of your head, gently cradling it. He placed his forehead against yours, exhaling slowly, trying to control himself. He envisioned you underneath him but knew he couldn't tonight, not with you feeling under the weather. But soon, he'd take you in his bed and show you how a real man cared about a woman. But right now, he could give you something else. Joel slowly leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, soft, and passionate.

When your lips parted slightly, he deepened the kiss, licking into your mouth and massaging his tongue against yours. When the kiss picked up in intensity, soon, you both were wrestling your tongues together, fighting to hold yourselves back. You let out a little whimper, moaning slightly into his mouth as your tongues continued to dance together. Eventually, when he pulled back, you found that you both were gasping for air.

“Baby, I'll take pain in my back any day if it means that I get to kiss you and hear you moan like that when I fuck you.”

“Joel, please-”

“Later baby, later. I promise when you're feeling better. Now, come on, let's get you home.”

You didn’t know how you lucked out and won the lottery with the man standing before you. But goddamn, you were the richest girl in the world, especially when he kissed you like that. Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you return to his truck to take you home. You didn't know then, but that would be the last first date you'd ever be on.

3 Years Later

Joel was sitting in his office, finishing up some much-overdue paperwork. He glanced up when he heard you enter, giving you a warm smile at seeing you. But when you didn't return it, he knew something was wrong. You looked exhausted, like you hadn't slept much, yet today was your day off.

“Are you ready to go, babe?” You were not trying to sound irritated, but you failed miserably.

You were uncomfortable, 32 weeks pregnant with Joel's child, a daughter, and she had spent all day kicking you hard in your internal organs. You were tired and frustrated, really not in the mood for grocery shopping with your husband. So when you got up to Joel's desk, you leaned back against it, placing your hand on your swelling stomach. You were trying to ease some of your discomfort. But as you did, you felt your daughter pick up with the constant kicks again. Usually, her kicks would give you comfort and joy, but not today. Today, your feet were aching, your back was hurting, and you were exhausted. You just wanted to lay down and rest today, but every time you attempted to, your daughter would give you hard, steady kicks against your internal organs.

“I’m almost done, sweetheart, then we'll go.” Joel smiled, quickly finishing up with his final notes from today.

Next week was Joel's 50th birthday, so this weekend, you wanted to throw him an outdoor barbeque with his closest friends and family to celebrate his birthday. You wanted to go shopping tonight for all the supplies for this weekend, and Joel agreed to go with you to help you pick out the items he wanted. He was looking forward to the barbeque, and you were too about three months ago when you first planned it. Now, you weren't too keen on the idea of hosting 30 people in your backyard when you were 32 weeks pregnant.

You let out another long sigh, feeling the weight of life once again kick the hell out of you. You reminded yourself that this is what you wanted, a baby to grow inside you. But right at this moment, you wanted to go back to the night Joel fucked you to conceive this little fire pistol and hit your husband right in the nuts.

“You know there, little one, you can stop kicking Mama so damn hard for once, and just quiet down, please.” You slowly rubbed your belly where you were feeling a fluttering of kicks. When Joel heard your discomfort, he immediately put his pen down and sat back in his chair.

“Baby, come here.”

You slowly shuffled over to your husband, standing between his widened legs, then gently leaned yourself back against his desk. As soon as you took up your proper standing position, Joel immediately took his hands and gently held each side of your belly, feeling his daughter kick both of you.

“Shh there, baby girl, don’t be so hard on your mama. Daddy missed you today.” Joel slowly leaned forward and kissed your belly several times while his daughter kicked.

You had a huge baby belly at 32 weeks pregnant and in your last trimester. If people looked at you from behind, they'd never know you were pregnant. But from the front, it looked like you swallowed a giant basketball. So, to put it mildly, you were exhausted.

Joel and you had been married for almost two years when you popped positive on a pregnancy test. You both weren’t trying for a baby. She came to you as a surprise, and you were so happy to have her. You had stopped your birth control the night of your wedding, hoping to get pregnant. But after two years and a lot of tests, you had given up on the ability to have kids. The doctors said that your body wasn’t accepting pregnancy because of your autoimmune disease. So you went on with life thinking that you couldn’t get pregnant at all. Then, by some miracle, the first night that you and Joel spent in the new house that you had built, he fucked you on every available surface, knocking you up somewhere between the kitchen counter and the coffee table. But now, as you rapidly approached your due date, you found yourself struggling with horrible exhaustion with the simple things in life like walking. You were lucky that your autoimmune disease had calmed down so much during pregnancy, a hidden fail-safe that most people didn’t know about. The problem was delivery day was rapidly approaching, and you were scared about what would happen with your autoimmune after your daughter came out. But today, you didn't concern yourself with those fears, as you were exhausted at the fact that she wouldn’t let you hardly sleep last night nor relax anytime today.

“Babe, what’s the matter?” Joel had stopped kissing your stomach and was now cautiously looking at his wife. You were breathing fast with your eyes closed.

“Honey, are you ok?” Again, you did not respond. Joel called your name, but you never opened your eyes. Your eyes were closed as your breathing became erratic.

“Hey, come on, look at me. Baby, open your eyes and look at me.”

“Jesus Joel, what?”

Joel's heart was in his throat at your lack of responding to him for a moment. He still didn't like how you were breathing, but at least now you were looking at him. He could see that you were frustrated, so he ignored that you snapped at him.

“Honey, talk to me, what's the matter?” Joel slowly rubbed your belly as he felt your daughter kick again. Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration and exhaustion being evident.

“I’m fine, it's just, it’s hard today, alright?” You placed your head in your hands as you felt your pregnancy hormones take over, and a light sob escaped your mouth.

Pregnancy hormones were complex every day, but today, they were awful. You hated the constant need of wanting your husband to be inside of you. You were horny for him, sex being something you haven't done in a few weeks again because of scheduling conflicts. But your daughter was constantly beating every organ inside of you, turning your need for your husband into something you couldn't do yet again. You were so exhausted today and just feeling so overwhelmed with life.

“Woah there, Angel, come on, talk to me. Baby, why are you crying? Are you getting contractions, honey?” Joel lowered his hand, trying to feel if contractions were starting anywhere on your belly.

“No, it's just she’s been kicking like this all day.”

When Joel realized your tears were out of the pain of kicks, and not contractions, and mostly frustration, he felt himself calm down. Joel gently rubbed your belly, trying to calm your daughter down.

“She's been kicking you all day like this, hasn't she?”

“Yes,” you winced as your daughter sucker punched the heck out of your ribs once again, causing you to wince and call out in pain.

“Woah, there, little lady, that was a powerful kick. How about we save those punches for when boys wanna come around later in life, huh? Give your mama a break and let her rest.”

Joel crouched down and kissed your belly again, talking to his daughter and trying to get her to quiet down for you. When he felt a strong kick against his mouth, he sat back and then scolded her.

“Excuse me there, Baby Miller, but kicking your daddy hard in the mouth isn't very nice. We'll have none of that behavior, young lady, ya hear me?”

“God, Joel, I love our daughter, but today, these kicks fucking hurt. I thought maybe you’d want me after shopping, but how do people do this?” You exhaled again as your daughter kicked your ribs on your other side, not as hard, but still a firm kick.

Joel slowly stood up and gently lifted your chin. When he spoke his next sentence, he wanted you to look at him straight in the eyes.

“Darlin’, don’t you ever question if I fucking want you, ya hear me. Baby, I always want you, day or night; it doesn't matter. And for the record, it isn’t me who needs any prep time to get in the mood; it's you. But with kicks like this, I’m assuming it’s a no again for any intimate time, which is okay.”

Joel raised his hands defensively, ensuring you understood that he didn’t expect anything from you. But when he turned to walk across the room to grab his raincoat, you mumbled sarcastically under your breath. “No, the real reason is I look like a stupid whale; that’s why you don’t want me.”

Hearing what you said, Joel immediately spun around and glared at you. He was upset you were talking down to yourself and how you looked. You were his wife, who was carrying his child, and god dammit, you weren't a whale, and he did want you. You were a sexy, beautiful, attractive woman, even while pregnant. Joel loved you, but your constant put-downs of yourself were starting to tick him off.

“What was that? What did y’say?”

“Nothin’,” you mumbled, knowing that Joel heard you criticize yourself. You knew you should have just kept your mouth shut.

Joel slowly approached you and placed his coat on the chair. You looked down, slowly biting your lip.

“No, little girl, eyes up here.” Joel gently grabbed your chin and tilted your head up. When your eyes met his, you saw that they were impossibly dark, pupils were blown wide with lust.

“First, darlin', you ain't a whale, so none of that. And second, you're my wife who's pregnant with my daughter; that's sexy by itself, baby. And for the record, I fucking want you.” Joel grabbed your ass and gave it a firm squeeze while slowly thrusting his hips against your closed heat. You could feel that he was already hard, but he didn’t rip off your clothes. That’s not what you needed right now, and you both knew that.

Joel slowly reached out and started stroking your belly lightly while gently tilting your head to give you a slow, tender kiss. However, very quickly you were the one to deepen the kiss, nipping his lower lip and shoving your tongue in his mouth. Joel growled at your heated kiss, struggling to keep his composure with you.

“Darlin', if we don't slow down, I won't be held responsible for what I will do. Do not tease me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth.

But you didn't want to listen, nipping Joel again on the lip, trying to provoke a heated reaction from him. As he went to give you a gentle tap on your ass and to rip your pants off, you let out a sudden cry in pain.

“Fuck, shit, ow.”

“Ok, darlin', enough horsing around, what's happening?” Joel snapped at you, no longer wanting to play this game of you not communicating with him when he could see your discomfort.

“It's your damn child kicking my freaking cervix Joel. God, why is she doing this today?”

“I don't know, baby, but how about we head home? I'll give you a massage and try to get her to calm down. You're stressed mama, and that's unhealthy for you and our daughter. Now come on, up we go.”

Joel made good on his promise to take you home and help you relax. About five minutes after he began massaging your belly, your daughter finally calmed down. Apparently, she just wanted a little attention from her daddy. About fifteen minutes after she settled in, you finally fell asleep, exhaustion winning. As Joel looked down at your resting form, all swollen and pregnant with his child, he smiled. Life was extraordinary, giving him the chance to have a family again, but this time when he was older and almost 50.

Joel made dinner and let you sleep the rest of the night. Later, as he lay next to your sleeping form, he felt his heart swell with affection and love for you. He reached out and gently touched your belly, feeling his daughter was finally calm and asleep. He stared at you in the dark, until his eyes felt heavy with sleep and he found himself drifting off to thoughts of you. Joel didn't care what people thought about whether he should be with you at such an older age. Joel was damn happy that you were in his life, and to believe that this all started because of a simple debate about pineapple on your pizza. And that was the best 50th birthday present ever: the chance to have happiness once again.

End Part 2

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blueishspace · 2 months

Text

Secret Life if everyone had only one life

Most health losses remain the same as they were accidents: mobs, heights and generally being a little dumb.

Scott never stops Jimmy and Scar from talking as Jimmy has done severely better in this continuity never being out first, maybe he even joins in the conversation for a while before walking off.

With Third Life being completely different Scar never gives Grian the cactus monopoly as that has no significance. Perhaps he gives him sugarcane as Double Life has taken Third Lifes place as the birth of Scarian? Thinking about it Scarian would probably be referred by fandom as Bamboo duo or Panda Duo having been created in Double Life.

Session 1 remains basically the exact same for everything else mostly, same for most of session 2.

Martyn still goes to the Nether and is killed by the piglin, he is the first player out of the game.

Session 3 is where the changes start...

Joel doesn't reroll his task for a hard one as failing would basically mean being extremely close to being out, so he sticks with the deja vu task...which he likely fails as its a task that realistically I can't imagine someone being able to do at all without luck... This means he doesn't die failing the bucket clutch.

Jimmy still dies to the drowned and is out second, the big dogs never happen for obvious reasons. Gem still dies to an enderman while trying to do her task and is the third player out. Lizzie still dies to a skeleton on the water slide and is the fourth player out.

Martyn Isn't there to guess Tango's task so he likely succeeds, he gets 3 hearts and 7 items.

Grian's session 4 task is different as there are no yellows, the same is applied to all tasks that are based on the green-yellow-red life system from here on out, each of them has been slightly changed. In this case he simply needs to convince anyone that singing is his task, which he succeeds. This is easier as it allows for more people to be target but harder since It's harder to be sure you have fooled them without them calling you out as a yellow life...so it evens out. He still joins Cleo and Etho later.

Martyn is also not there to make Scar's life more miserable as he can't cause him to fail, Scar succeeds getting 6 hearts and 4 items.

Etho also never gets his task from Martyns suggestion so aHa Etho never happens.

The same that happened to Grian applies to Skizz, Skizz likely fails either way.

Lizzie is out so she also never makes the paths which means movement across the server is technically more difficult. Also Scotts task is likely failed without Lizzie.

Importantly, without Gem and with everyone having only one life they can't risk the dragon is likely never slain and Bdubs fails his hard task losing 10 hearts.

Without Gem there is also no tower off so no questionable mounder towers, Mumbo never climbs the now Gemless Scotts mountain to judge which is tallest and never falls to his death in the process.

BigB's task is different as stated before, so he probably doesn't betray the heart foundation. No trust issues this time around.

Tango and many others also never lose lifes because there are no red life tasks. Cleo race against Gem is also not a thing which means Cleos task is to simply get people to hand their doors.

Joel can't use Jimmy or Lizzie to target Scott (aka basically two of the few people willing to) so he likely fails his task.

Bdubs is still pushed in the zombie pit by Scar, Mumbo still falls in lava, Skizz still dies to something as his health is extremely low and BigB still dies while fighting the wither. They are fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth out respectively.

With only one life Grian likely doesn't run in front of the wither to press the button, he doesn't die yet... however he does likely have extremely low health so he probably dies against the wither anyway. He's the ninth player out. (Or eight if he dies before BigB)

Scott has the charisma to still complete his task without Gem, so he does. Scott also has 1 heart, he probably dies even without trading his life to Martyn.

Gem is already out of the game, there is no boogeyman/zombie apocalypse in session 7 so ... nobody dies, not even Tango who is never killed by BigB's dog as BigB is out and is later also not killed by the non existant zombie army.

There's also no Angel Jimmy as Grian is out of the game and can't get the task.

At this point in time there are 7 players left in the game: Pearl, Joel, Impulse, Cleo, Etho, Tango and Scar.

Everyone also has very little hearts each as there have been no respawns... Which means when that creeper explodes next to Pearl...she probably doesn't survive it, tenth player out, 6 to go... Knowing Joel erratic behavior gets worse without his teammates he's likely to accidentally kill himself sometimes soon... 5 left.

The last 5: Impulse, Tango, Cleo, Etho and Scar. I can see Impulse and Tango working together... Seeing the weird competition between Scar and Heart foundation I think Tango and Impulse target and kill Scar, 4 left...

Cleo does the nice vs naughty thing, I don't think she gets to kill anyone but I think someone kills them in response... Maybe dogs if she's accidentally punched... 3 left.

With Impulse working with Tango I think they work together to kill Etho putting him in third leaving those two to fight for the win as the finalists... I think Impulse has a higher chance to win...just slightly, the difference isn't that severe, but I think in this case Impulse wins.

The winner of secret life is Saturn.

(Third Life)

(Last Life)

(Double Life)

(Limited Life)

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creedslove · 10 months

Note

Mari, what about jealous joel?? Like you're on a girls night and someone tries to flirt or you run into an ex. I just know that Joel Miller is a possessive man and he doesn't know how to share.

🫶

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: I love this anon, I love jealous Joel so much 🫶🏻

• Joel is possessive and jealous, he is also territorial and he doesn't like when people get too handsy or flirty around you, but he isn't a jerk, he knows how to separate things so he sees the difference between harassment and flirty

• so if someone harasses you, he goes feral in order to defend you from the asshole who did it, no one messes up with Joel's girl, let alone make her uncomfortable like that

• but when there isn't this kind of violence involved and he sees someone flirting, or you smiling a bit too much at some guy, he gets jealous

• Joel is the sexiest man you'd ever seen, he's the hottest guy you've ever slept and you don't have enough words to stress how much you fucking love him but at the same time he is a little insecure, after all, he is older than you, his hair is going gray, and he doesn't have energy to spend the whole night inside of a packed nightclub to dance or something like that, so insecurity gets the best of him sometimes

• so mostly when Joel sees younger men hovering around you, that's when his jealousy strikes for real, he isn't proud of that and he'd die before admitting it, but that's what gets the best of him and it brings out some ugly feelings

• so when Joel is jealous, it shows in different stages: first, you can tell by his frown, the way he clenches his jaw and he goes silent, even more than usual

• there's a stage in which he still wants to claim you back, so he keeps his hand on you; your thigh, your waist, kissing your temples and pulling you closer

• or if it has reached the extreme stage, Joel will give you the silent treatment and you will hate it, because he behaves like a jerk and leaves you in the dark

• you try talking to him, but he just ignores you, and eventually you give up and ignore him, and let me tell you, Joel is stubborn and that can go on for days

• you don't get why he is like that, he could just talk to you, tell you what's going on, it's not like you were purposely flirting with another guy to tease him

• so the situation drags itself on and on through a couple of days, until he is missing you too much to simply let it go and then he comes after you, looking like a lost puppy and wanting to apologize

• at first you resist a little but eventually things go back to normal with you as you both can't spend too long away from each other in the end ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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cowgurrrl · 9 months

Text

Day After Tomorrow

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: “Lover, hunter, friend and enemy/ You will always be every one of these.” — Love and War by Fleurie aka winter part ii [3.0k]

Warnings: (probably) incorrect wound care, mentions of deceased loved ones (what's new), mother-daughter arguing although neither of them realizes that's what it is, Chekov's gun if you squint real hard

It's been days, and Joel hasn't moved from his spot. You and Ellie come up with your own watch schedule to keep each other safe and make sure Joel doesn't die in the middle of the night. You stay up throughout the night and let her take over once the sun rises in the morning, but you don't sleep. Every time you lay down next to Joel's mattress, all you can do is count his breaths and watch his sleeping form. The only time you've actually been able to sleep was when Ellie suggested laying next to him instead of on the floor to keep warm. You've seen her do it, and if he cares, he doesn't make it clear. If anything, he subconsciously leans into her. Still, you're hesitant until you curl up next to him and feel his beating heart under your hand. You fall asleep counting the contractions of his heart and silently pray that it doesn't stop before you can wake up.

You've only left a few times to raid the other houses in the neighborhood, tearing rooms apart and looking for first aid kits or leftover antibiotics. The closest thing you find is a smattering of codeine left in someone's medicine cabinet and some more towels. Anything else that might've been valuable has been picked over or lost to the elements. You find an extra blanket in one house and throw it at Ellie when you return. "Told ya I'd find something," you tease as you take off your backpack, the forced lilt in your voice enough to make her smile. You have to fight Joel to get the opiate into his system, but the bubbling pain caused by his stitches seems to outweigh sobriety. You want to make a joke that you think NA would make an exception for this, but he's unconscious again by the time you think of it.

You catch the symptoms of an infection before Ellie can. The skin around his stitches is inflamed and red, and he's spiked a fever in the last few hours. When you check his pulse, it's fast and irregular, and he's shaking under the blankets. You contemplate taking out the sutures, but it's too early. If you take them out, he could start bleeding again, and his body might not have enough strength left to clot. You sigh and scrub a hand down your face as you weigh your options.

"Is he gonna die?" Ellie asks suddenly, breaking the eerie silence filling the basement, and you tear your eyes away from Joel to look at her. It's only been a week, but Ellie looks like she's aged three years since you've been down here. Her cheeks have hollowed, and the bags under her eyes are so dark they're almost purple.

"He has an infection. His body might be able to fight it, but I don't know."

"Is there anything you can do?"

"Without medicine? Not really," you admit. "I can… make him as comfortable as possible with the rest of the painkillers. I can change the towels and give him food and water, but that's really it." I can let him die with some dignity, you think. It's better than the other situations you've been in where you thought he was gonna die. What would you tell Tommy? He was protecting you and Ellie. He fought to stay alive. He wanted you to move on. He'd be a hero. Tommy would make sure of it. The idea turns sour the second you think of it. You don't want a hero. You don't want his name sung to the skies or cemented in marble for generations to gawk at. You want him to stay alive.

"What are we gonna do? If, y'know…" Ellie trails off, and you look away from her.

"We keep going."

"But-"

"It's what he was trying to tell me to do when he got stabbed. He wouldn't want us to stay here, and you know it." You stop the argumentative tone in her voice before it can fully develop, and she huffs in annoyance.

"So we're just gonna act like nothing happened if he dies? Like he wasn't even here?" You ignore her to mess with the blankets covering him and wait for her to try and open up negotiations so you can turn them down. "Do you love him?" She asks instead. You cringe, but she's firm and determined as she watches you process the question.

"He's my partner," you say. "My family."

"That's not what I meant," she says.

"I don't know what you're looking for."

"What did Tess say to you when you were alone with her the last time?" She asks, and your heart jumps. She's out of line. She knows she is, but she keeps going. "Joel doesn't know, does he? Because it hurts, and when you love someone, you don't want to tell them things that will hurt them. Right?" You clench your jaw and shake your head. "I'm not fucking stupid. I see the way you guys look at each other. I hear what you guys talk about when you think I'm asleep. I know he's mostly grumpy, but not all the time. Not with you. I-"

"Ellie," you snap, cutting her off. "It doesn't matter what you see or what's there. I'm not… I can't." Words fail you as they often do when talking about Joel. "He's not mine to love. Not in that way. So, it doesn't matter what I feel, and it especially won't matter if he's dead." Ellie is silent as the words hang in the air between you two. You've thought the same thing many times over the years, but this is the first time you've vocalized it. He was always Tess's. In your mind, he still is. If either of them ever asked you to step down or leave, you would've done it without hesitation because he was never meant to be yours.

"When I got bit the first time, I was with someone I loved," Ellie says. You look at her and catch her ripping at her nail beds to avoid your gaze. She takes a deep breath and shifts uncomfortably before she continues. "Her name was Riley. She joined the Fireflies, and they were gonna send her to a different QZ. Atlanta, I think. She wanted us to have one last night so we snuck out to the mall," she shakes her head and takes a deep breath. "We got into a fight about her leaving. I was just so scared to be alone, and then… she decided she was gonna stay for me. She hated the FEDRA school, and I was scared to be out in the QZ, but we were gonna figure something out together." She looks like she wants to say more but can't bring herself to. You're able to put the pieces together.

"Have you heard me tell Joel about someone named Adam?" You ask, and she nods shyly. It's weird bringing up Adam to her. They each feel like they belong to different lifetimes. "Adam was kinda like my Riley. He helped with Jane, went on runs with me, lived with me, everything," you say. "He was my best friend."

"Did he get bit, too?" She asks, and you nod.

"I stayed with him until the end. I think I felt like I owed it to him— like I wanted him to know I loved him enough to bear the weight of watching him die," you dig your fingernails into your palm and shake your head. "I stayed with him until the end and then let him go on his own terms like he wanted. If it comes down to it, I'll do the same for Joel."

"Are you scared of losing him?" She asks. You swallow thickly and nod.

"Every day."

"Me, too," she admits. "I'm sorry about Adam." She says, and just like that, whatever barriers left between you two are gone. Suddenly, you're not the adult, and she's not the child. You're two girls forced to become women too young and carry the weight of what that means for the rest of time. You're equals.

"I'm sorry about Riley." You say. You think the conversation will end there, and you let yourself crawl under the covers with Joel as the sun slowly inches over the horizon. Before you can close your eyes, Ellie fiddles with the rifle nervously, making metal click, and you look at her.

"Does it ever get easier?" She asks. "Loving someone who's not alive anymore?" You stare at the ceiling, your eyes fluttering shut at the question, and your hand finds Joel's.

"I wish I knew," you say. "Does he know? About Riley?"

"No," she sighs. "He's not really one for sentimental conversations." You laugh despite the situation. It's delirious, and you really shouldn't be doing it, but you can't stop it. For more than ten years, you've known Joel, and never has a truer statement about him been said. The hysterics hit Ellie, too, and you two giggle on the floor together. When Joel shifts in his sleep, you both go quiet but start laughing again a few moments later when it's clear he's not stirring.

"He's gonna fucking kill us if we wake him up." She says breathlessly, and, for some reason, you start laughing harder.

"He doesn't even know what day it is. You think he's gonna know how to kill us?" You snort, and that sends Ellie over the edge. Your stomach hurts, and you can't catch your breath, and it feels so good. When was the last time you laughed this hard? Over a card game and a few drinks with Joel and Tess? Dancing in the kitchen with Adam and Jane? Or further back? In some long-forgotten memory lost to your pre-kid days? It's impossible to know for sure.

The only thing you feel sure of is the ache in your ribs and the smile on your face when you finally quiet down and lay down next to Joel, his hand squeezing yours either in reflex or love.

You wake up to Ellie calling your name frantically, and you're up before she can even finish descending the stairs. The sun is high in the sky, and light is pouring in through a little window. It has to be, at least, mid-afternoon. When did she leave the house? How long have you been asleep? Is she hurt?

"I got medicine!" She shouts as she runs to you. Her cheeks are red from the cold, and she's tracking snow into the basement, but she's not bleeding. It takes you another second to scan her features for any injuries before you can even process her words. "I got medicine. I don't know if it's the right kind, but I got it." She hands you the vials with shaky hands, and you glance between her and the bottles. The label says it's penicillin. It could fight the infection bubbling under the surface of his stitches. Kill the bacteria and save his life as long as he's not allergic to it. As long as it is what it says it is.

"You were supposed to wake me up for second watch." You scold because you don't know what else to say.

"Is it the right kind? Will it help?" She asks. You take another second before cursing under your breath and going to Joel's bedside, shaking him awake.

"Joel, I need you to nod or shake your head for me. Can you do that?" You ask, and he nods. "Are you allergic to penicillin?" He shakes his head but looks confused. There's a 50/50 chance he didn't understand your question or know if he's allergic to it. You lift his shirt to check his stitches to find the skin more inflamed and angry than the last time you checked. He's gonna die if you don't do something soon. You sigh before turning back to Ellie. "Give me the syringe."

She does with shaky hands, and you carefully measure and fill the entire syringe with the antibiotic. You don't know what the correct dosage is supposed to be, but you figure too much is better than not enough. You hold his shirt out of the way as you inject the medicine into his muscle, praying that it is medicine and not something mismarked. You watch him once the syringe is empty and wait for him to start foaming at the mouth or coughing up blood, but he doesn't. Carefully, you put the needle down and check his vitals, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

His heart rate and breathing are steady, and his pupils respond when you lift his eyelids. It'll take days for you to see any improvement, but just the knowledge that the antibiotics are working below the surface to save his life is enough to calm you down. The snow still in Ellie's hair does the opposite.

"Where did you go?" You ask, your voice hoarse from fear, and she tenses up.

"Hunting." She supplies a little too quickly, and you stare at her.

"How did you find medicine?" You ask, and you watch her scramble for answers. "Tell me the truth."

"There was this man from a town nearby-"

"Jesus fucking Christ." You cut her off and bury your head in your hands.

"I did everything you taught me! I didn't tell him my name, where I was coming from, or anything!"

"Did he see which way you left?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. He seemed nice!" She defends.

"Yeah, they always seem nice." You sigh.

"How about 'thank you, Ellie'? 'I know it must've been scary, but you saved him.' Anything?"

"You could've gotten yourself killed. You could've led them here. We can't move him yet. So, what am I supposed to do if they show up here? Huh?" You snap. You hate being so harsh with her, but she needs to understand how dangerous that is. "Do you remember what Joel said about fires? Why we don't always light them?"

"Yes, but-"

"Why don't we light fires, Ellie?"

"I-"

"Ellie Williams."

"Because people could see and rob us." She says, and you shake your head.

"Trust me, robbing us would be the last thing on their minds," you clench your jaw and take a deep breath. "I appreciate you finding medicine and coming back, I do. You probably just saved his life, and I'm sure we'll both spend the rest of our lives trying to thank you for that, but it was also really fucking stupid. I trusted you to stay up and take a watch shift because you wanted to be treated like an adult. So, I'm gonna treat you like an adult now," you say. She opens her mouth to say something, but you put your hand up to stop her. "You're off the watch schedule, and you're not allowed to even look at the rifle unless it's an emergency or I can trust you again. You don't leave this house again without me knowing. You don't walk, talk, eat, sleep, or even breathe without me knowing. Do you understand?"

"That's not fair!" She protests, and the last thread of patience you have snaps.

"I can't lose another kid!" The words leave you before you can reign them in, and you both go silent, staring at each other. This is all new. You've never had a kid who got to this age. She's never had a parent. Neither of you can fully fill the void for the other, but somehow, it feels like it's happened. "It will kill me, okay? Him," you gesture behind you at Joel. "It would hurt like hell, but I could find a way to survive. I've done it before, and I could do it again. But you... if anything ever happened to you, I would never forgive myself. So, just, please-" Ellie, throwing her arms around you, cuts you off, and you freeze. It only takes a second for your brain to catch up with your body, and you hug her back, squeezing her tight.

She's taller than Jane, her head fitting perfectly under your chin, and you can't stop yourself from smoothing her hair down. She doesn't flinch or jump away from your touch. You take that as a good sign. It occurs to you that accidentally claiming her as yours was never in the plans. You were supposed to get her to the Fireflies in Boston with Joel and Tess, and when that didn't work out, she was cargo. Just a burden to deliver to someone else. You were supposed to leave her, get paid, and lick your wounds the whole way back to the East Coast. What now? You can't just leave her with them. You can't just turn your back on her. You can't pretend she didn't exist. You're fucked. You wonder if Joel's had the same thought.

"Okay," she says into your chest. "I won't leave again. I understand."

"Thank you." You whisper, and she nods. You leave it at that, not wanting to incite another argument or worse— admitting something else you weren't ready to admit to a fourteen-year-old. She hands you the rifle without protest and lies down next to Joel, falling asleep faster than you've seen before, and you let your shoulders drop as you watch them.

You can't recall a time Joel looked so relaxed in his sleep, and it could be the penicillin or the codeine, but you like to think it's Ellie. You have to believe it's her. If you survive this, you decide, you'll do everything possible to give her a better future. You can't guarantee tomorrow, but you want to try.

"I love you," you say into the air. You know they can't hear you. That deafness might be the only reason you say it. "I think you know I do. I just… wanted to say it out loud at least once. I'm sorry it took me so long." You're quiet after that admission, listening for footsteps, hooves, or something else that might come and threaten their lives. If you listen hard enough, you think you can hear the snow hitting the ground, rabbits digging underground tunnels, and Adam's clumsy feet jumping up and down.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 (I made an executive decision on tagging lol if you only want to be tagged in one thing, lmk and I’ll do my best to remember!)

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller angst #tlou angst #the last of us angst #when you’re lost in the darkness #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #ellie the last of us

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unseededtoast · 2 months

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Twenty Four

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross posted on my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those formats. Here is a link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted.

I don't know if there's a way out of this one.

Cold wind whips around the corners of buildings right into our faces. Squinting from the harshness, I keep my sights high to try and spot any scouts. For a city that should be bustling with people belonging to this group, it's too empty. Something about this just doesn't sit right with me.

Up ahead is the first outpost building. The windows on upper floors have been busted out and I can see a sniper stand at the edge of the window. But there's nobody there.

"Joel, this doesn't feel right." My eyes are plastered on the empty outpost.

"Stay close." Is all he says before he takes the lead and enters the building. A strange tightness pulls at my chest as I follow along up the stairs.

We check each floor as we pass by and find supplies here and there but there are no people. Even this early in the morning there should be people stationed here.

Eventually we make our way up to the outpost and the sniper stand is still where I saw it. Beside it are two lawn chairs and an empty bottle. I look around, having a pretty good idea of how this group operates, for a ledger of some sort. These people love leaving behind notes and paper trails, so why wouldn't they keep one at their outposts?

While I look around, Joel peers out into the city. Our eagle-eye view is to our advantage right now and I hope he can see something, or someone, that will point us in the right direction.

I quickly find out that there's nothing worth keeping at this outpost, nor is there anything helpful. Not even a sign-in ledger. All that's left are empty sleeping bags and old wrappers. I join Joel in looking over the city, hoping to see anything helpful.

"Over there." Joel's voice is solemn and he point out into the distance. Squinting, I can see the smoke trail up into the air.

"You think they're all there?" I ask, squinting harder to try and see more but to no avail.

"Most of 'em at least. That's a big fire." Joel says and takes a step back.

"Why would they all be over there at the same time?" I ask, still feeling uneasy. Joel adjusts his bag on his shoulders.

"What's the one thing we know these men enjoy?" He asks, meeting my eyes. I wrack my brain, trying to nail down the one thing that unites this group.

I think of the letters and notes we found and the photos of gore they carelessly left behind. Their quotes of justice linger in the back of my mind and I think the answer has always been right in front of me.

"Killing." My answer is simple, but I know it's the right one. Joel nods and looks back out.

"Now we just have to be smart about this. We can't go in there while they're all there. We need to find somewhere to lay low until they all disperse." I can tell from the shift in his tone and his body language that he's in survival mode now. There's something almost predatory and dangerous in his eyes.

Joel leads us out of the outpost building into another one that's nearby. He chose this one in particular because there's only one way in and out, and there's only one window. We agree to lay low until the sun begins going down, where it'll be easier for us to lurk in the shadows.

Unfortunately, the evening comes much sooner than I am ready for. The sky has turned amber orange and with it, it seems the group has returned to their regular schedule. Joel and I saw two men enter the outpost building a while ago and they're our first targets. We agreed that we shouldn't just kill them right off the bat, they might have valuable information for us. And so, as we head out of our hiding spot, I ready my mind for what I know I must do. I do not take pride in torturing and killing people, but considering what these people have done, it becomes easier to digest.

I follow Joel's lead into the building and we quietly climb the stairs. My curved blade fits comfortably in my hands, and the stillness I'm holding it with masks my nerves well. We reach the door that will open up to the outpost and Joel stops just before opening it. He turns around to face me and we look into each other's eyes with a silent intensity. I nod to him, showing him I'm ready, and he nods sternly. He opens the door quickly, earning the attention of the outpost workers.

They're caught off guard and they scramble to reach for their guns as Joel lifts his rifle.

"Don't." Joel's voice is deep and authoritative. I take a step closer and see that both men in front of us have the letter 'T' carved into their necks. We've definitely found the right people.

But I don't study them for long, I'm quick to move and carry out the plan we meticulously thought out earlier in the day. I take one of the chairs and drag it across the room while Joel orders the men into them at gunpoint. My job is to keep an eye on the one who sits in front of me.

The man stalks towards me, a dangerous glint in his eye. He's sizing me up, probably weighing the benefits of trying to overtake me. But before he can act on his thoughts, my fingers find my gun in its holster and I raise it towards him, my knife still secure in my other hand. The man sits in the chair with faux confidence and spreads his legs as if we're about to have a casual conversation. Behind me, I can hear Joel questioning the other man.

The plan is simple, Joel questions one man about where the other outposts are and points them out on a map. Then, he questions the second one to see if their answers align. If they do, they earn a swift death. If not, they get questioned again, but under harsher circumstances, then they die a more painful death. I had never participated in something like this before, but I have a feeling Joel has, as he ran me through the details with a practiced tongue.

In front of me, the man tries to peer around my body to see what's happening to his friend. From what I can hear, the man is being uncooperative and Joel is simply trying to get him to cooperate. But the man keeps his cool composure and sits back in his seat as I step into his line of vision. He licks his lips and his eyes run over me, like a wild animal who hasn't eaten in days.

When I'm confident he won't try to make a move, I grab the cord from my bag and tie the man to the chair. His feet get tied together and his arms get secured to the armrests. The close proximity to the man makes me want to get sick, but I mask my true feelings well and wear an expression of pure confidence.

"You let me get out of here and I'll make sure you're taken care of." His voice is quiet, his words laced with false promises. I shift my stance and look into the man's eyes so that he can see how serious I am.

"You're not getting out of here alive, there's nothing you can do, or say, that will change your fate." I almost don't recognize my own voice as the words come out of my mouth. However, my words only make the man smile a twisted, sickening grin.

"We like 'em with a little bit of fight around here. Makes it all more fun." He chuckles and it makes my blood boil.

I'm forced to think of the boy in the alley and the sisters who were left mangled back in Boston. Did their murderers enjoy how they fought back? Did the murderers take joy in overpowering those children? My vision goes dark around the corners, and before I can think through what I'm doing, my body moves on its own accord. The man screams out in pain as my blade enters his thigh. He grits his teeth together and seethes in anger.

I grab the handle of my blade firmly and yank it out of the man's leg, causing him to yell out in pain again. Dark red soaks his pant leg quickly and I drag the blade covered in his blood across his cheekbone slowly. His chest heaves with each breath he takes and I make sure he can see me clearly.

"And I like it when they scream, makes it all more fun." I feel the corner of my mouth tilt up in a smirk and I step back from the man. He glares at me and spits at my feet. I'll let it slide, just this once.

"Who even are you?" He asks, trying to keep any sense of composure.

"We're here to right some wrongs." Is all I tell him. I can tell that my answer only makes him more angry.

The man behind us yells out in pain again and I can see the man in front of me lick his lips. His eyes begin darting around, trying to see a glimpse of his partner. I hear Joel threaten the man and a few seconds later, Joel joins my side. I glance down at his hands and see that his knuckles are bloody, but I can't tell if it's his blood or not.

"He try anything?" Joel's gruff voice asks me as he sizes up the bleeding man in front of us.

"Nothing that I couldn't handle." I say and raise my blade to show Joel. He only nods simply before telling me to go watch the other man.

The man who Joel just got done with has seen better days. His face is beginning to swell, his skin starting to bruise. Blood drips from his mouth and his head hangs low as he tries to catch his breath. Hearing my footsteps, he looks up at me briefly.

Joel wastes no time in questioning the other man and from the sounds, the man is putting up quite the resistance. However, he must give in quickly because Joel calls my name within a few minutes. We meet in the middle and Joel's voice is low as he explains what he learned.

"Their answers matched, they've got this whole city on lock. Replacements change shifts every hour, we won't have much time." He says and I nod.

"Then we go in and out. Search for what we can." I say with a nod and look at the tied up man behind Joel.

"We have to be very careful. Don't leave my side, do you understand?" Joel asks with a grave tone. My attention is drawn back to his face and I nod.

"I understand." I tell him.

"Good, let's get going." He says before walking to one of the men. I go to the other and raise my blade to his neck. The man begs me to let him go, but his pleas fall on deaf ears. Without much guilt, my blade slices cleanly through the man's jugular.

Joel and I go back down to the street and make our way to the next outpost. My heartbeat echoes in my ears as we sneak behind the two men on watch. They're talking about the meeting they all just attended, where three of their own members were hanged for stealing supplies. Unfortunately for them, their conversation is cut short by Joel and I. With efficiency, we take them down and are out of the building before the blood can drain from their bodies.

I check their bodies before we move on, but find nothing of value to us on them. All I see is the branding of their group embedded in their skin.

We go to the next outpost and I follow Joel as he rounds the corner. There are three men on watch, and one of them sees us before we can take them all out quietly. Before the man in front of me can turn around, I lunge forward and wrap my arm around his neck and dig my blade into his skin. The others cease movement and try to talk me down. Beside me, Joel reaches for his handgun.

"Don't even think about it." Joel tells one of the men who makes a move for his own gun. A few tense moments pass before Joel pulls the trigger, downing two of them while I kill the third.

We quickly go through their belongings, knowing the shots will have likely tipped someone off to our presence. My hands shake with adrenaline as I rummage their pockets, and both Joel and I come up empty handed once again.

"Come on we gotta go." Joel grabs my upper arm and tugs me out of the building. By now, the sun has faded behind the horizon, leaving us in the dark. Which is great for stealth, but a better advantage for people hunting us down.

In the distance I hear people running, and I'm willing to bet they're closing in on us. Before we can find out, Joel pulls me into a smaller building and we duck down. We catch our breaths and my mind races to come up with a quick plan. If we can escape a horde of infected we can escape this, I'm just not sure how.

"Shit. I shouldn't have done that." Joel angrily says.

"Hey, it doesn't matter, we just have to find a way forward." I say, trying to keep myself from panicking. Joel nods and his jaw sets firmly.

"The plan doesn't change. We just have to be cautious." He states and I don't argue with him. It's not like we have the time to debate and plan anything else right now.

The two of us stay hunkered down in this building for what feels like an hour. We stay until we don't hear any commotion outside, and then we get back to our plan. The streets have returned to their normal quietness and I feel confident that we can still pull this off.

With heightened caution, Joel and I take down two more outposts, and are now close to the center of the city. The smell of smoke still lingers in the air from the group's earlier meeting. I know that being in the center of their city is likely going to mean more people in a smaller area, but I know we can still do this if we're smart.

I follow Joel into another building and begin scoping out where the people are. I see what looks like a sleeping area, littered with old sleeping bags, but no people. Joel turns the corner and before I can react, someone is grabbing me from behind. I struggle to get out of the person's grasp, but their hold is too strong.

"Joel!" I yell out and try to throw my elbow into my captor's face, but to no avail. Instead, I'm met with deep laughter. My blood runs cold in my veins as I quickly come to terms that I've been taken by one of these men.

Joel doesn't come back from around the corner to save me.

My body fights back violently against the man's grasp but he's far too strong for me to overtake. His arms feel like they're crushing my ribs as he takes me out of this building. Outside, there's a small group of men staring me down. Some make comments about how they're going to have so much fun, the others celebrate that I've been caught. The men reach out and touch me as my captor leads me through them.

My mind races too quickly for me to focus on one singular thought. I wonder where Joel is and what happened to him. I wonder where I'm being taken and what's going to happen to me. My chest hurts with each strained breath I take. The sound of the men gets drowned out by a ringing in my ears.

My captor opens a door with his foot and I look around, seeing another group of men who look like they've been waiting for me. I get slammed down onto a metal table and get stripped of my bag and weapons. I fight back and reach one last time for one of my knives, but one of the men pushes my shoulders forcefully back. Dark spots cloud my vision as I try to catch my breath.

I'm restrained to the table, each limb tied down with what feels like zip ties. There's nothing I can do to fight back anymore, I am at their will. Fighting down the bile that rises in my throat and the tears that threaten to spill down my cheeks, I try to mask just how scared I am.

How did this go so wrong so quickly?

Am I going to die here on this table?

Did Joel get out? Is he going to come back for me?

Joel.

All thoughts cease except for the ones about Joel. I can only hope he made it out of there unscathed, and I hope he keeps his promise to me. I hope he doesn't come back and instead leaves and goes back to his family. My lower lip trembles as I think about him leaving this city and returning to his family. While I might not make it out of here, I surely hope he did.

A single tear falls from the corner of my eye and down my cheek as I come to terms with the fact I may never see Joel again. I might never be able to look into his warm, chocolate eyes again or wake up to his masculine scent, the one that makes me feel secure. Our time together may have ended, just like that, in the blink of an eye.

My chest aches from the loss of Joel, it feels like my heart itself is being constricted and suffocated. After everything we went through, this is how it ends?

It seems this also may be just another unfortunate fact of life.

My thoughts are cut short as a man leans over me, his greedy eyes taking in every detail of my body. I want to scream at him and spit in his face, but know that if I want to even have the smallest chance for an escape, I can't act on my rage.

"So you're the one who's been killing off my men." He starts and rubs his beard as if he's deep in thought. I stay silent, opting to bite the insides of my cheeks instead of saying anything.

"You will be judged for your crimes soon and sentenced to a fair punishment decided upon by my fellow Tribunals." The man speaks calmly, as if we're talking about the weather.

"In the meantime, you'll be kept here. Get comfortable, sweetheart." He says and orders the other men out of the room.

As they exit, the door gets shut, leaving me in total darkness. When I'm sure they're gone, I try to tug on my restraints to see if one is just loose enough for me to slip out of, but unfortunately they're all secured tightly.

I don't know if there's a way out of this one.

Part Twenty Five

#joel tlou #the last of us joel #joel the last of us #joel miller pedro pascal #joel #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller tlou #joel miller angst #joel miller x oc #joel miller x female oc #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic

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bullsandthebones · 10 months

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"my roman empire is this" "my roman empire is that"

My roman empire is that even as a red name, Joel still remembers his past alliance with Grian in Limited Life and vise versa. Grian doesn't care about old alliances or new alliances, but he cared about The Bad Boys. Even as Joel was trying to blow up his base, Grian was complimenting him on being able to hit it. Grian, being low on health from the red attack, begs Joel for a heart so he doesn't die. And Joel provides. Joel always provides.

My roman empire is that I think Joel will be the reason Grian dies this series because alliances are meant to be broken in the watcher's eyes. Someone has to win, right? The only way to win is kill everyone or let them die, you have to be the last one alive.

#this is just a theory #a watcher theory #annnddd cut #secret life #life series #secret life spoilers #life series spoilers #trafficblr #traffic smp #traffic series #smallishbeans #grian

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toxicanonymity · 9 months

Note

I love your fics so much - every one of them, really, but my top favorite is still Raider Joel...

There's one idea I can't get out of my head: how would he react if Sweet Pea had a special talent, such as being good at drawing, and he discovered sketches and drawings of hers. Of course she would have drawn him (would he be moved by the way she sees him?), Carter, the dog and there would also be a portrait of Jack. Would he understand that drawing is part of her processing trauma? Or would he be angry that she still thinks about Jack? What do you think? Somehow I want to believe he gets her pens and paper...

Tysm dear friend 🖤

Drawing Joel, I imagine she'd pick up on little details he's not even aware of. Maybe he's flipping through them and he lingers on one where there's this gentleness in his face, and then below the detailed bust it fades to the basic silhouette of his body and it's clear he's holding someone even though she isn't depicted, she's just kind of a shape 🥺. Something she wasn't bold enough to visualize in detail but still knew she belonged there. I think Joel would be moved by that.

Now, what if she drew something a little sexier of Joel, baring more of his body. Going so far as a detailed map of his scars as she sees them. And then, ever so faintly, her name, right on his bare chest, so light he has to squint to make it out, and when it hits him his stomach won't stop fluttering, he has to look away. Is it how she signed the pic? An intentional parallel with his name on her chest? Both? And he's looking at it like, wow. Not processing it in words and yet not feeling like it's out of place at all. Help, my heart 😫.

Drawing Jack - This is so sad 🥺. Joel would be upset with himself if anyone. Asking himself, why the hell did I make Jack into some kind of a martyr? What was I thinking? (Wasn't). I let (no, made) the man die trying to save her. Shouldn't have given him the honor. He doesn't want you to remember jack as someone who tried to save you. He wants him to be just a guy, a fading memory from your past. But because of Joel, it's probably harder for that memory to fade. He was relieved when you compared him unfavorably in Hunger. He shouldn't need that. It's stupid. It's his own fault.

#raider!ask #toxic ask #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine

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erstwhilesparrow · 1 year

Text

They've lit fires for the night; just a few low-burning ones that everyone tells the children are for hiding from the monsters because it's not as scary as thinking too hard about their caravan's dwindling supplies. Pix is in one of his grimmer moods.

"What if," he says in an undertone, "our empires die with us, Joel?"

He and Pix are huddled at the edge of firelight, by the small wagons and hardy pack animals. (Pix volunteered for first watch, and Joel doesn't particularly want to look bad next to Pixandria's king.)

"I mean, I don't know about Pixandria, but Mezalea will," Joel says. "Lizzie-- Lizzie's not exactly here, is she?"

Pix turns his head from where it was tipped toward the stars, and the fresh wave of grief that washes across his face feels nearly tangible. (Where does he get off acting like the whole world's mourning has to be his, anyway?)

"There's no one...?" Pix shakes his head, cracks a mirthless smile. "Sorry, that's a terrible question."

"Won't be. Won't ever be." Joel shrugs. "Figured I'd get people somewhere safe and... let them sort it out amongst themselves."

"Where would you go?"

"Well, let's not scare the children," Joel mutters.

"Your people need you."

Joel's sure Pix has said as much to himself more times than either of them can or will count. Because he isn't cruel, he doesn't say, Do they?

He says, "What about you, then? Anyone you wish were here?"

For just a tick, Pix looks stricken, as if it's a question with real consequences. As if either of them could really do that, could tear through time and space and haul out of the blood and wreckage one single person from thousands.

"I think I could sit here for a thousand years searching for their names and I would still fall short." Pix runs a hand through his beard. Idly, Joel wonders if he's cleaned his hands since this afternoon.

One of the Mezaleans, earlier today, tipped over the side of a wagon like a fish tumbling out of a bucket. A burial, someone insisted. We have to have a burial.

So they had a burial, and looking at his hands, coated in the grime of the badlands, Joel glanced at Pix's hands and thought, Ha. We match.

At any rate, it's clear Pix understands the importance of letting other people mourn properly. It's strange to Joel that he won't extend the same courtesy to himself. Joel's no good at it, but he's here, still. He's counting it for something.

"I'm sorry about..." Pix doesn't finish the sentence, doesn't even seem to notice that the sentence went unfinished.

"Yeah," Joel says. "Me too."

#sparrowsong #one time i thought about a version of this scene too hard and got so sad i felt vaguely physically ill #pix and joel escape the rapture etc etc it's done this is the whole thing i don't have more to add here

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thetomorrowshow · 10 months

Text

the night got deathly quiet

a secret side storyline is resolved in this update. Can anyone tell me what it is?

cw: violence, mild gore (lots of dead people), death

They hadn't expected the war so soon.

Jimmy had figured they at least had a couple of weeks. It wasn't exactly public knowledge that Scott would be touring Rivendell and therefore not available to make battle decisions, but Lizzie and Joel had both sent extra troops to strengthen Rivendell in case of an attack from fWhip.

And then the attack came from behind.

They hadn't received any reports that Mythland was even doing more than preparing armies, let alone mobilizing them. In order to surprise them, he must have moved fast.

And maybe, that's what Jimmy gets. After all, he's the one who decided to rebuild the Capitol right next to Mythland's border. Of course Sausage was going to attack, when Jimmy's certainly the weakest empire and the least likely to be prepared—and of course he managed to do it without alerting anyone, what with the Codlands right next door.

And when he does attack, it goes badly.

"Codfather, you’ve got to leave," insists Belgio, a senior member of the Cod Council. Two of his advisors had shown up at his door less than an hour ago, out of breath and terrified, to inform him of the coming armies. Emil had left almost immediately, still young enough to fight, but Belgio (old, his scales flaking in places) and remained, in some attempt to evacuate Jimmy.

Someone screams from far away, clear over the shouting of so many warriors—because all the normal noises of the city have gone silent, and even so far from the battle, in his small house at the dock, Jimmy can hear the war.

It calls to him, almost. The screams of his soldiers call for his help.

He isn't going to run from them.

"I can't," Jimmy says firmly, pulling tight the side buckles of his chestplate. "I swore an oath to protect this people—I carried them out of the clutches of the salmon, and—"

"And that is why you've got to be saved," Belgio says. "If you're to save us again, you have to make it out!"

"I can't let them die alone!"

Belgio falls silent, the rings of Jimmy's shout echoing in the small house, floating away like the dust that dances in the window's light.

Jimmy bites his lip, shifts his chestplate a bit.

"Can you get the buckle on the back?" he asks quietly. Wordlessly, Belgio moves behind him, tightens the strap and buckles it.

Jimmy lets his eyes flicker shut for a moment, almost in a wordless prayer. To whom, he doesn't know.

He just begs for the strength to defend those he loves.

"When I first saw you, I knew you were our leader," Belgio says after a moment, patting Jimmy's shoulders and snapping him out of his moment of piety. "We know that you've had lots of doubts over the years. Blood doesn't matter, Jimmy. You're our Codfather."

Jimmy nods, a lump in his throat. He doesn't know what he can even say, what he can do to make any of this situation better.

He's probably going to die, isn't he?

A year ago, he would have been more than happy to die for his country. A year ago, he would have marched out into battle without a care, only hoping to take down as many of Sausage's people as possible.

He wouldn't say he has more reason to live now. Sure, he has Scott. And Scott is . . . Scott is wonderful.

But he's always had his people.

The difference is that now, he knows the price of sacrifice. He knows that if this kingdom falls (if he leaves them without a leader), no Codlands will remain.

He has to go out. He has to try.

If he'd woken in Rivendell this morning, Scott would have stopped him from returning to the Codlands. And what good would that have done? Let it be conquered, let these people be utterly destroyed, and (being an imposter king) have no way to carry on their legacy?

At least if he dies here, he'll die a martyr.

Yet here he is, the noonday sunlight filtering in through his cabin's windows, dressing in the armor that has never seemed to fit quite right, and he wishes he were anywhere else.

He twists the ring on his left hand, once, twice, three times for good luck. He's probably not going to survive. Not a full-scale invasion. Unless he's taken prisoner, which he thinks would be unlikely—he still doesn't have the Codfather head, and his face is a little disfigured from the loss of his scales. As far as he knows, he isn't anyone recognizable. And even if someone does recognize him, the only reason he would be taken prisoner would be to gloat at Lizzie and Scott, or to torture him.

He doesn't plan on being taken prisoner.

With the addition of a wooden medallion that Belgio reverently lays around his neck (Jimmy lets him do so, shrugging away the guilt—if he remembers correctly, it signifies some prayer of strength, and he needs all the strength he can get), he's ready to leave.

He steps into the kitchen, checks his reflection in a pan hanging there. Awkward tan armor, his earfins swirling, his good old leather boots, the patchy scars on his face. Jimmy nods at himself, sweeps a hand through his perpetually messy hair.

This is it.

"I'll see you," he says to Belgio, who looks at him for a long moment before nodding, stepping out of the way of the door.

"At least think about escaping, all right?" he offers half-heartedly. Jimmy tries for a smile.

He's not going to do that.

He picks up the Codfather sword, leaning against the wall in its scabbard, and belts it onto his waist. He swallows back his anxiety, takes a deep breath, and pulls open the front door.

The dock is empty. A scrap of cloth blows through the street, the wind whistling just slightly in his ears.

And louder now, in the distance, Jimmy can hear the clashing of swords and the shouting of soldiers.

He hikes up his chestplate and starts running in that direction.

It doesn't take long at all to find the fight. He runs into some twenty of his soldiers soon enough, regrouping behind a cornerstore. The battle has already nearly reached the square beyond, and Jimmy can see more of his soldiers surging forward through the streets, weapons drawn and captains shouting.

This squadron has paused, their captain organizing them, when Jimmy runs up to them.

"Jimmy!" one of them gasps out, standing from where she's crouched behind the wall. "We thought you'd gone to safety! Why are you still here?"

"I won't abandon my people," Jimmy says, even as her face twists in distress.

"This isn't a fight, Codfather," she says urgently. "This is a massacre. We've sent as many children as we can to the Ocean, please join them and g—"

"I'm not running away." Jimmy pats her arm in what he hopes is a comforting manner, before turning to the captain of the group, identified by the blue ribbon tied hastily in their hair. "What's it like out there?"

"Mythland soldiers crawling all over the place," the Cod replies, giving him a quick salute. "They started with catapults, taking down the city walls. They've been moving in, forms of . . . thirty or forty, I'd say. Just one right after another. It's endless, sir."

"Any weaknesses?"

They shrug. "Their backs are unprotected," they suggest. "They're only in half-armor. But we haven't been able to get behind them."

They're wearing half-armor. Because of course, the Cod Empire isn't enough of a threat to bother with their backs.

It burns at Jimmy to know that they're right.

"Right. Well, we probably shouldn't sneak around behind them, we'd get surrounded," Jimmy says, turning the matter over in his mind. He thumbs the hilt of his sword consideringly. "Maybe a point formation? Break through their front line, then stab them in the back?"

"It could work," the captain concedes, glancing at a tall Cod, who shrugs hopelessly. "We'd need more numbers. Is there another group we can join up with?"

"I saw some running over there," a young Cod pipes up, pointing to the left of them, her too-big helmet slipping into her eyes. "Maybe twenty soldiers?"

"Forty isn't enough to wedge into Mythland's armies," another soldier says. "There's got to be thousands of them."

"If we can get a hundred, I'm willing to try," the captain says decisively. "There should be more on the east side, I heard from Mela that they're holding their own over there."

The east. That's the most populous part of the city. It would be best to head there anyway, make sure there aren't any more people who need to be evacuated.

"What do we know about the towns and provinces further inland?" Jimmy asks, suddenly struck by the question.

The captain shrugs. A soldier looks uncertainly at his feet.

Probably fallen or going to fall, then. There's rivers and canals running through most of the Codlands, so those could be a quick escape if the soldiers of Mythland aren't used to fighting fish hybrids. If someone could warn them. . . .

"You," Jimmy decides, pointing to the young girl. "Take the canals, go warn as many towns as you can that the war has begun. Get them out of there. Queen Lizzie or Lady Katherine will accept them as refugees, whichever empire is easier for them to get to. Got it?"

She nods, takes off at a sprint. Jimmy turns to the others, squares his shoulders.

He can do this. He managed about ten years of peace, which he thinks is pretty good for a war-ravaged kingdom. He can save it again now and lead it back into peace.

He doesn't know who he's trying to fool. He isn't even the righteous heir of this kingdom. Arguably, it's his rule that brought about this war with Mythland.

It was his rule, though, as illegitimate as it might have been. And he swore an oath when he took it upon himself to protect this people.

"To the east!" Jimmy declares, and takes off.

The east is chaos.

Yes, there are plenty of Cod defenders in the streets, but there are also hundreds Mythland attackers flooding the area. There's a house burning down (smoke is thick in the air, and those around are choking and tears stream from their eyes), a window being shattered, children screaming and running, someone is dying on his left and someone is killing on his right—

"Jimmy, behind you!"

Jimmy turns around, somehow has the ability to dodge a swing from an axe and draw his sword. He doesn't really know anything about facing off against an axe (his combat instructor had always told him to flee), so he just jogs half-backward, drawing the warrior in, until one of the soldiers in his group can stab the man in the back and take him down.

Then they keep moving, further into the battle, avoiding fights but gathering random Cod where they can, calling for soldiers as they go until they've collected a fairly large group. Probably a hundred, right? That looks like about a hundred.

"Form a wedge!" Jimmy shouts, for once glad of his naturally loud voice. The Cod soldiers obey, and they move down the large main street toward Mythland's advancing lines.

He can see the proper lines of soldiers, now, not just a mob of men in red with shining silver armor roaming the narrow Cod streets. It looks well-directed and terrifyingly intimidating, and surely far more impressive than his own small troupe must appear.

And it goes on forever. There's—the lines are endless, wave after wave of footmen rushing forward, killing Cod and barging into homes and destroying the town.

Jimmy stares for a moment, utterly overwhelmed.

His people are dying. They're being wiped out entirely, all at the will of a power-hungry king. Their culture had barely survived the centuries of subjectivity and war with the salmon. It won't survive this.

Jimmy shakes himself. It could survive this! He just has to . . . he has to save it.

"Wedge formation!" the captain from before shouts, then begins leading the pack, past individual battles and destruction and to the main lines.

It all gets blurry after that. Jimmy runs with them, storming toward the enemy, yelling instructions to his people, ignoring the way his voice shakes.

He fights. He raises his sword against people, stabs some in their unprotected backs, fights some head on. Face after face blends together as Jimmy almost mindlessly swings his sword (he's been training with it every week for the past ten years, and while he isn't perfect he's certainly a force to be reckoned with), one thought running through his brain on repeat: save them. Save them. Save them.

He isn't sure how long it is before he hears calls of retreat. The Cod numbers have dwindled around him, his soldiers collapsing one by one under the weight of just how many Mythlanders there are. And more are still coming—Jimmy looks up at some point and sees so many footmen, so many knights on horses, there's too many the world is going to end—

He falls back with everyone else, weaving into the smoky streets among fleeing and screaming people, shouting soldiers, a fry crying for its mother, all hazy and uncertain—

Then a shout rouses him from the depths of his mind.

"That's him! That's the Codfather!"

He whirls around, trying to spot anyone who might have—there. A smug-looking knight on horseback, pointing to him and shouting to his comrades, and now there are five or six or seven Mythland soldiers moving toward him.

Jimmy curses under his breath, wipes a trickle of sweat from below his ear.

He doesn't really want to die here, but maybe he can draw enough Mythlanders his way that he can distract them from his people.

It's not suicide. Maybe he can get to his cabin, grab his elytra off the hook by the door and get away—or jump into a canal and swim out.

A glance into the nearest canal tells him that others have tried the same thing. Bile rises to his throat; dead Cod are floating, belly-up, arrows piercing them all over, the canal running red with blood.

He hopes the young girl he sent made it out. He hopes she didn't have to swim by any bodies.

He fears that neither hope has any truth to it.

An arrow whistles past Jimmy's ear, and he takes that as his cue to start running.

Sausage's men must have a line of bowmen behind the main advances, and if one has shot for him, it must mean that the endless sea of red soldiers has an end, and behind that end is the archers. If Jimmy could gather another group, sneak in behind the lines, they could get the archers. Bows aren't really made for hand-to-hand contact, so they could probably just take them all out and stop any more airfire from hitting his soldiers.

But then that group would surely perish. Every one of those soldiers would be surrounded. Jimmy doesn't know if their wedge did any real damage—he couldn't tell from the thick of it—but they'd had a way out. Killing the archers would cost more than it would save.

And now he really has to get going, because there are more soldiers coming in droves and several of them are aiming for him.

He turns on his heel and sprints off, dodging the battle at every turn. There are still too many citizens among the fighting, why haven't they fled—there's an older gentleman that he shoves into a house, a child that he picks up with one arm and carries a short distance until he finds a fleeing man who can get her to safety.

He rounds a corner in a winding street (skipping over bodies all the way down, he knows he's headed toward more death) to find two Mythland soldiers fighting one Cod soldier, the Cod's energy clearly flagging. Jimmy leaps into the fight, stabbing one soldier through his unprotected side.

"Go!" he shouts to the Cod, and xe stumbles away, sword hanging loosely at their side.

Jimmy makes quick work of the other Mythlander, kicking her in the knees to get her down before knocking the hilt of his sword against her head. Then he continues down the street, covering his mouth as the stench of smoke grows stronger, until it opens up into a plaza—the plaza that Jimmy knows to be the center of the city.

The plaza is destroyed, entirely unrecognizable as what was surely once a pleasant hub of energy—there's people screaming everywhere, shattered pottery and trampled food and bodies on the ground, a dog barking, soldiers killing without consideration, market stalls burning and in disarray, horses rearing. . . .

There's so much, and Jimmy moves to go forward, eye catching on a Mythlander about to kill a defenseless Cod, when a hand catches his arm, pulling him back into the doorway of a shop.

"Codfather," this new soldier begs him, a Cod instantly recognizable as part of Jimmy's Rivendell guard, shouting to be heard above the turmoil. "Leave! Free us later, you can't save us now!"

Jimmy can't leave, though.

Not when his people are dying before his very eyes. Not when he can save at least one life.

He promised to be willing to die for these people. He has to keep that promise.

Anyone can lead a country—he's living proof. But not everyone will lay down their life for another, no matter their station. And the latter is the kind of Cod that Jimmy wants to be.

He claps the soldier on the shoulder. "You get out," he tells him. "Will you abandon your country in this time of need, or keep fighting to save those weaker than you?"

The soldier looks down at his feet, then back up, teary determination in his eyes, soot and dirt dulling his scales (as if the battle has drowned his light). "I fight with you," he says.

Jimmy grins. "Good. What's your name?"

"Micah."

"You've accompanied me to Rivendell before?"

Micah nods.

Jimmy squeezes his shoulder. "Well, Micah," he says, "maybe we'll both get to see those mountains again."

And with that, he hefts up his sword and charges into the fight.

He dispatches a Mythland soldier immediately, striking down a second one as soon as he gets near enough. Jimmy's blood is pounding in his ears, his heartrate elevated. He knows how to fight. Better than many rulers, probably, forced to fight since before he was even declared Codfather, and expected to defend if there was ever an attack.

He licks his lips, twists his sword around in his hand before plunging it into the back of another enemy. Maybe they can barricade off the plaza, only leave one street open so only one soldier can get in at a time? It wouldn't be permanent, but it might last long enough for them to hold their own until they had a chance to flee, or until some sort of back-up arrived.

There isn't back-up coming, though. Nobody knows this is happening. Nobody knows the Cod Empire is falling.

Jimmy fends off a spearman, knocking the spear out of their hands before slamming the flat of his blade into the side of their head. He's got this. He knows how to dance this dance, knows how to look for weak spots.

This soldier relies too heavily on his shield, blocking every one of Jimmy's hits with it rather than his sword. Jimmy goes for a wide cut on his unprotected side, takes him down, then spins to the side to dodge a swing from a man whose balance is off, feet too flat. He steps in past his range, shoulder-checks him to knock him back, then stabs him through the shoulder.

"The Codfather!" the next soldier greets him, smiling sharply. "I"ll be honored for killing you."

"Not if you're dead," Jimmy grunts, swinging his sword into the soldier's neck and partially decapitating him, his body collapsing instantly.

There's another one waiting behind, and Jimmy steps back to dodge a strike and something rolls under his feet—he slips back and trips, barely manages to catch his feet under him before he falls into the canal behind him. He glances down—just for a moment—and sees the arm of the Cod's body that he'd slipped on—

Then, with a burst of blinding pain, a sword drives its way around his chestplate and into his shoulder.

He gasps a little bit, the world slowing around him.

There's a sword in his body.

It cut through his flesh like a knife through butter, straight into that space between his shoulder and his chest, and there's metal separating tendons and flesh and he's going to die—

The sword is drawn out, and Jimmy stumbles forward with it, the shiiick of the sword being removed echoing in his ears.

He's—he's fine. It's not a fatal wound. It's just—just blood, soaking his tunic, sticking to his skin. He's bled before. It's not too serious to have it outside of his body.

"I got him!" a woman—the person who stabbed him—shouts. Jimmy glares at her, the world around him coming starkly (too starkly, everything just a little too bright) back into focus. Nobody who's smug about it is going to kill him.

He hefts his sword back up, ignoring the pain shooting out from his shoulder, ignoring the slight wooziness that tugs in the back of his mouth.

He swings at her, more precisely and accurately than he expected, cutting down into her shoulder and neck.

She collapses when he yanks his sword out of her collarbone, but her call had brought others. There are three more approaching, lifting their weapons.

Something that Jimmy would say is one of his worst qualities is his stubbornness. Lizzie has got on him time and time again for never backing down from a fight he can't win.

And this is one with no hope.

So Jimmy takes a deep breath and fights.

He takes down two of them before the third gets past his defenses, slashing a sword deep across his thigh.

His leg gives out, spurting blood everywhere, the cut burning somewhere beyond Jimmy's consciousness. He falls to his knees, stabs up under the chestplate of the soldier—and there are four more behind her.

His arm shakes as he stabs the knee of the first soldier, then hits them in the side when they twist downward. He adjusts his grip on the sweat-stained leather of his sword, adds his other (heavy, near-useless) hand to it.

He manages to kill the next soldier before he gets hit again—he dodges, bending to one side, but the sword swinging at his head manages to clip his earfin, neatly slicing off a piece of it that falls to the ground beside him. He aims up, stabs that man through the chin—

His back stiffens as cold metal shoves down in the back of his chestplate and pierces into his flesh, stabbing through his back—through—through—through his body and angling down, in his back and down, and Jimmy can't move, he's skewered on this sword, he chokes on nothing as his eyes go wide and it hurts—

Another shiiick with a tiny little squelch, and the sword is removed with a jerk that pulls a sound from Jimmy's lips that's something in between and grunt and a whimper.

The enemies around him (for they truly are surrounding him, at least five, hazy and out-of-focus) go still, their weapons lowering.

Jimmy's arms drop to his side. His grip on the sword loosens. Someone screams in the distance, distorted by his uneven ears.

No.

One of the Mythlanders—a man with a grey beard, his armor old and unpolished—kneels before Jimmy, puts his hands on either side of Jimmy's head.

There's something proud about the way he holds his chin, something . . . something different in his eyes. Jimmy doesn't know what. All Jimmy knows is that he suddenly feels cold.

"You fought admirably, son," he says, voice low and gravelly. "There are those of us in Mythland yet who respect a warrior, despite the actions of our king. Go into the next life without fear, for you will be honored."

Jimmy stares blankly at him. There's hot blood pooling in the back of his tunic, running in rivulets down his back. He can't move his left arm, blood caking under it. His thigh is wet with the stuff; blood trickles down the side of his neck.

He's so cold.

The man tips Jimmy's head forward, places a scratchy kiss on his forehead. "Rest easy," he murmurs, before standing, picking his sword back up and turning away into a blur of color.

Jimmy slumps forward against his will, slowly falling onto his stomach, cheek landing against the dusty cobblestone. He doesn't feel the way the fall jostles his wounds. He doesn't feel anything but cold.

The boots that stand in front of his eyes are new, splashed with blood on the toe.

"Finally," the person says distantly. "I've been chasing him for twenty minutes. Fought like a dog."

And then, with a noticeable plop on his back, he spits on Jimmy.

One of Jimmy's other worst qualities, in his opinion, is pride. And somehow, his pride is stronger than the cold darkness pulling at him.

And his sword is still in his hand.

Gathering every last ounce of strength that he has, Jimmy strikes out to the side, slashing through those new boots and cutting into the calf.

The man curses, leaps away. Jimmy can't help but smirk a little, lips feeling numb. His fingers lose grip of his sword, his vision blurs further.

"Why isn't he dead already—"

A boot slams into his head and the fuzziness goes black.

"Just roll them into the canal. We'll have the Cods fill it up with dirt."

"Glad we don't have to carry them all the way to the fields. The savages fought hard, I heard they're still loading the wagons with ours."

"Have you heard anything about Daniel?"

"No, haven't seen him. Whose squadron was he in?"

"Twenty-third, Hal's group. He's my wife's brother."

"You'll probably have to be the one to tell her, then. If he's dead."

"And his husband. They'll be heartbroken."

"Mm. Oh, urgh—their weird scale things always grossed me out."

"It's the ears for me. Every time I went to market there'd be one of them selling something stupid. My daughter thinks they're terrifying, would scream when we passed by."

"She's right. They're freaky-looking. I was glad to kill a few."

"Are you two working, or talking?"

"Milord!"

"Working, sire, our apologies."

"Your majesty, what brings you out here?"

"I received an urgent report from one of my captains. You haven't seen a Cod body—hehe, Coddy—with scars on his face? Blond hair, tall, lots of scars?"

"None that match that description yet, sire. If we see one—"

"No need, I'll search with you. Are we just rolling them into this river-thing?"

"Yes, milord. Allow us—"

"Oh—"

"There it goes!"

"Right, and now the next—"

"Oh! Is this the one you're looking for?"

". . . Well. Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. Scott wasn't here to save you this time, was he?"

"Is that. . . ?"

"Friends, this is—or, was—the Codfather."

"Looks like he put up quite the fight. There are so many bodies around him."

"He's drenched in blood. Must have been painful."

"It was supposed to be fWhip to kill him, I think. He always wanted to. He isn't going to be too happy about this, let me tell you!"

"Do you need the body?"

"And stink up my kingdom by bringing back a dead fish? Roll him into the river with the others. But give me a second with him, all right?"

"Yes, milord."

"Of course, your majesty."

"Honestly, Jimmy, I think this look is an improvement! You think Scott is into this, all this blood and guts? You never know, elves are a little freaky! . . . Well, I can't say I'll miss you. I loved messing with you, but I can find a new game. Look, if you get to heaven, tell 'em to let in your old pal Sausage! And if you end up in hell . . . tell 'em the same thing! Covering all my bases, you know? . . . I guess this is goodbye! See ya, Jimmy!"

"It's close enough to the canal, we won't even have to touch it, really."

"Just kick it in."

"You two take care of that! Oh, I can't wait to tell Scott. . . ."

"All right, I'll just—"

"And I'll—"

"There it goes! Which one next?"

"Let's keep going along this way, and when. . . ."

That night, the Cod Empire is deathly quiet.

Smoke hangs like a cloud over the Capital, some buildings still burning (pointless from the beginning, yet even after the battle had been won there were celebrating soldiers setting fire to cabins and shops, destruction just a mark of victory). Bodies line the streets, half the canals filled with the dead.

There are some still living. Soldiers who had surrendered, children and caretakers and disabled who weren't able to escape but were able to hide. They do not sleep, fearing what the morning will bring. Will King Sausage order their deaths? Will he move through their land to the ones beyond? Will he demand slavery of them, even the children?

A father bundles up his baby and waits for a change in guard at the docks, then slips into the water and swims away, heading for the Ocean Kingdom. Another Cod tries the same thing and is caught with an arrow in their throat.

Those who remain hide in their homes, curtains drawn, and hold each other, too fearful to try to contact friends and family to see if they still live. They daren't go outside, lest they join the bodies in the streets.

They all know that their Codfather has fallen. That news had been shouted through the town, on every gory street and dock, until all in the town silently despaired and knew that they were doomed.

Lord Sausage, King of Mythland, returns home and writes a gloating letter of conquest, which reaches all of the empires before the night ends. One day of battle, and the Codlands has been conquered. He doesn't write of the fate of the Codfather, relishing the opportunity to tell the Ocean Queen and Lord Smajor in person.

In the canals are hundreds of bodies. An older Mythland soldier on guard frowns as he stares down at the disturbing piles of dead, on top the pale body of a guard named Micah, and shakes his head in disgust.

In the canal near the center of town, under two other bodies, completely submerged in the dirty water, is the body of the Codfather. His hair floats in the water, his face almost unrecognizable, bloated in death, painted with blood and mud.

It's the dark of midnight, not even lit by the moon, only the dim stars twinkling down. The body of the Codfather rocks a little bit with the shift of the water, little ripples coming from seemingly nowhere, traveling down each canal.

Something rumbles, deep underground.

The water picks up, tiny ripples becoming actual waves, crashing against the land and shoving the bodies from side to side, piles spilling over and sending dead Cod flopping to the land—almost as if a storm is brewing, though the skies are clear as can be.

The Mythlanders on guard around the town laugh nervously, step away from the canals, as the bodies seem to thrash in the choppy water.

And in the canal near the center of town, the Codfather lies in the water.

His eyes flash open.

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lxrd-ren · 3 months

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Something something curses and blessings for all the life series members

Grian: Black Widow Curse🕷

With the name stemming from the spider, the curse is pretty simple; Grian always kills his ally/allies, whether it be directly or indirectly.

Timmy: Canary Curse🪶

You know it, you love it: the classic canary in the coal mine. Similarly to how canaries were used by miners in real life, Tim dying is the sign of danger and how the server will soon decend into chaos.

Mumbo: Miner Curse⛏️

Linked with our canary, he is the unfortunate miner who dies seconds after the canary does; usually too overcome by grief to escape the mine. And to top it off, it's always to the same thing the canary died from.

Scott: Stars Blessing🌟

Much like how sailors were guided by the stars, whoever allies with Scott has a chance at winning that season. But be careful, just because you are the closest to the star doesn't mean you won't be blinded. Afterall, he too has a history of being a widow..

Bdubs: Devotee Curse🙇

Quite like a martyr, Bdubs is doomed to always die as a result of what he devotes himself to in the end. Even if he changes what that object of devotion is, he will always meet his end via it, even if its a completely different thing to what he devoted himself to at the start.

Tango: Insignificant Curse😶‍🌫️

Unfortunately for Tango, him losing his final life is always a background event; never beside his allies and more often than not completely alone. The fact that it's usually his own fault is the icing on the cake for this curse.

Joel: Insanity Curse🩸

Now, when you go red, you get blood-thirsty and hostile to the non-reds. But Joel? He takes his blood-thirst and RUNS with it; going the equivalent of insane on his red life. His reckless abandon only adding to how this is a curse for him.

Etho: Burning Curse🔥

Ethos is more generalised with lava and fire frequently destroying all he holds dear. Whether its a base or himself, he always seems to become victim to the flames of chaos.

Scar: Enchanted Curse🔮

I'm not sure what it is about that enchanting table, but whatever it is, Scar can't get enough. Throughout the seasons he can usually be seen chasing down the enchanter, even at the cost of alliances, materials and his own lives.

Martyn: Unguided Curse⏸️

No matter how much he tries, he never truly fulfills his purpose in any of the seasons. Whether that be being a hand to a king or a protector to a friend, his role never reaches it's full potential, either being abandoned by Martyn or dying with him.

BigB: Overshadowed Curse🕳

He is never far from the shadows with being frequently overlooked and/or overshadowed by others. Either he blends into the background as another one of the shadows or is outshined, sometimes by Grian and Pearl the Sun and the Moon. But as it turns out, the shadows and darkness of a hole may turn out to be an asset to BigB..

Skizz: Supernova Curse🌌

Those who burn brightest burn fast; something that has become apparent with Skizz, who often dies 3rd or around that placing. However, he never goes down without a fight, usually exploding rather than slowly decaying.

Ren: Blinded Curse👀

He has a tendency to lose his final life to something he can't see, or rather, something he didn't see coming; usually mobs. He is also privy to losing items and alliances due to him not being aware of something; you could say his is blind to these causes.

Impulse: Haunted Curse👻

Despite different rules and areas, he can't seem to let go of the past; his actions usually being dictated by it. The most prominent example of this is the betrayal that took place in 3rd life - something that still influences his decisions.

Cleo: Avenged Blessing🧟

Whether it be by a player, mob or their own actions, Cleo nearly always gets revenge in the end. This may be because of someone wronging or killing them, but either way, they get avenged. Them dragging others to the grave with them really adds to the zombie theme they have.

Pearl: Moonlight Curse🌙

Pearl always places well, no matter her alliances and items. However, her allies can't bathe in her moonlight of success, regardless of how hard she tries. The only exception to this curse was Scott, aka, the star, who not only survived the moonlight, but shone brighter than it.

Lizzie: Falling Curse🏔

She may be able to rise above the rest, whether it be with resources or lives; but she envitably falls. This is also the same in a psychical sense with both her final lives being taken from her after falling from a high place.

#life series #trafficblr

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lucygxybaird · 26 days

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billy the kid on shuffle

carry on, you will always remember. carry on, none can equal the splendor. now your life's no longer empty, surely heaven waits for you. carry on, my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done. lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more. - carry on wayward son; kansas

oh, north country winters keep a-gettin' me down, lost my money playin' poker, so i had to leave town. but i ain't turnin' back to living' that old life no more. so, rock me, mama, like a wagon wheel, rock me, mama, any way you feel. hey, mama, rock me. - wagon wheel; darius rucker

and they say there's a heaven for those who will wait, and some say it's better, but i say it ain't. i'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints, the sinners are much more fun. you know that only the good die young. - only the good die young; billy joel

oh, i hear a voice, it says i'm running behind. i better pick up my pace, it's a race and there ain't no room for someone in second place. i'm in a hurry to get things done, I rush and rush until life's no fun. all i really gotta do is live and die, but i'm in a hurry and don't know why. - i'm in a hurry (and i don't know why); florida georgia line

death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes. and we keep living anyway. we rise and we fall and we break, and we make our mistakes. and if there's a reason i'm still alive when everyone who loves me has died, i'm willing to wait for it, i'm willing to wait for it. i am the one thing in life i can control, i am inimitable, i am an original. i'm not falling behind or running late. i'm not standing still, i am lying in wait. - wait for it; 'hamilton'

when i close my eyes, i see you, no matter where i am. i can smell your perfume through these whisperin' pines. i'm with your ghost again, it's a shame about the weather. but i know soon we'll be together, and i can't wait til then. - colder weather; zac brown band

and then they all fell to their knees, and begged that drifter, begged him please as he raised his fist before he spoke. "i am the righteous hand of god, and i am the devil that you forgot. and i told you one day you will see, that I'll be back, I guarantee, and that hell's coming, hell's coming, hell, hell's coming with me." - hell's comin' with me; poor man's poison

here they talked of revolution, here it was, they lit the flame. here they sang about tomorrow, and tomorrow never came. from the table in the corner, they could see a world reborn. and they rose with voices ringing, and i can hear them now! the very words that they had sung became their last communion, on the lonely barricade at dawn. oh, my friends, my friends, forgive me, that i live and you are gone. - empty chairs at empty tables; ramin karimloo

check out my btk playlist here

#billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid #tom blyth

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blueishspace · 2 months

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Third Life if it had life trading, random lives and a boogeyman.

I use a randomizer to choose a boogeyman, it decided to pick Scott.

I used a randomizer for the lives too: Scott and Tango have 6 lives. Scar and Ren have 5 lives. Jimmy, Skizz and Martyn have 4 lives. Grian, Bdubs and BigB have 3 lives. Joel, Etho, Cleo and Impulse have 2 lives.

Scar's death remains the same, so are the immediate consequences. Scar has 4 lives left.

Scott tells Jimmy about the boogeyman curse but doesn't kill him. Since Martyn visting is the only time he's alone with someone who isn't Jimmy he is probably the victim. Martyn has 3 lives left.

Skizz's death happens the same. Skizz has 3 lives left.

Talking about Skizz, he's chosen by the randomizer to be boogeyman in session 2, as It's still the start and everyone is alive I do think he manages to kill someone. He does interact with a bunch of people during the session but only Cleo, Etho and Martyn he was aline with... Both Cleo and Etho wouldn't have been easy to attack and both he saw at the start. Martyn however is with him alone in the Nether, so Skizz just punches him into lava. (Possibly as revenge for almost killing him with lava) Martyn is at 2 lives.

BdoubleO still dies to the phantom, he's at 2 lives.

For session 3 the randomizer chose Etho... In session 3 Etho has a perfect chance when Cleo and Bdubs are on trapdoors above a deep hole... I think he dunks Cleo (who he was closer to) killing them. Cleo is the first red of the series.

Scar still falls to his death during the science bros bit. Scar has 3 lives left.

Session 4 was chosen to have 2 boogeys: Tango and Scar.

Tango is set by canon as he likely still makes Dare to Flare and therefore gets Joel which I count as a boogey kill. He also gets Jimmy though only one counts as a boogey kill. Jimmy goes to 3 lives and Joel goes to red.

Scar... I feel like he tells Grian and is therefore also set by actual third life as Grian like in canon comes up with the tnt trap which this time they build together. Jimmy, Ren and Skizz dying is therefore a boogey kill. Jimmy goes to 2 lives, Ren to 4 and Skizz to 2.

I believe Scott gives Jimmy a life, it is most logical as it: One, Helps an ally. Two, makes Scott himself less of a target in the process. Jimmy goes back to 3 lives and Scott goes to 5.

Session's 5 boogeyman is Impulse. He spends most of the session with 2+ people... however he does spend a short amount of time at Etho's base alone meaning he has the time to trap it which shouldn't be hard for a redstoner. So Etho goes to red.

Red Winter never comes as Ren has 4 lives and wouldn't want to lose 3 of them.

The Fire arrow game still happens, Etho doesn't play but Tango does going down to 5 lives.

Joel still accidentally walks into fire putting him out of the game first... However Grian has no reason to trap the elevator so Bdubs does not die.

By the end of session 5: Tango and Scott have 5 lives. Ren has 4 lives. Scar, Grian, Jimmy and BigB have 3 lives. Martyn, Skizz, Impulse and Bdubs have 2 lives. Cleo and Etho have 1 life. Joel is out.

Session 6 was chosen by the randomizer to have 4 different boogeyman: Scott, Jimmy, BigB and Martyn.

Scott and Jimmy are teammates so they likely plan together...or Scott plans and tells Jimmy what do... no better married activity then murdering together I say. Martyn tries to get Scott, using the boogeyman as an excuse to get back at him for killing him... I think he fails, he is killed and goes to red in the process. Scott is cured but Jimmy Isn't so they keep their already made plan to cure Jimmy as well.

Ren offers Martyn a life since he has 4 but Martyn refuses as this is their chance to attack other groups without the boogeyman curse.

BigB has been peaceful for most of the 5 previous sessions and is now Boogeyman... If he acts like in Last Life he probably waits until sometimes makes him panic kill the person closest to him at the time...which is for most of the session Ren. So... BigB panic attacks Ren betraying Dogwarts in the process and is probably killed by Martyn immediately after. Ren drops to 3 lives and BigB to 2.

Going back to Jimmy and Scott... I don't doubt they go after Cleo and Bdubs. Grian and Scar are sorta allies by this point, they won't be able to take Ren, Martyn and Skizz and Bdubs is hardly careful. Scott is a tactician, he knows Bdubs the best bet... Except Bdubs spend most of the session with a red life Cleo which means a change of plan is necessary... But a change of plans at this part of the session is unlikely to work.

Impulse meets Tango, it's not unlikely he asks for a life... I think considering Hermitcraft as well that Tango asks in exchange for an IOU and something physical to represent it. Impulse has one semi-valuable but useless thing that can be used as a symbol for the IOU, he has a clock. Tango drops to 4 lives and Impulse goes to 3.

Scott is a tactician, before the end of the session he asks Jimmy to "borrow" a life until the next one. Jimmy does so, he goes back to 2 lives and putting Scott back to 6... Soon after Jimmy fails the boogeyman kill and goes to red.

At the beginning of session 7 Scott gives Jimmy 2 lives, putting him back to 3 and dropping to 6. (In alternate irl: That kind of trick is explicitely said to be illegal before the next season) (In alternate lore: The Watchers angy at Scott one season earlier...record)

Session 7 has *randomizer time* 2 boogeymen: Grian and Impulse.

Impulse already trapped the trader hall in canon so It's not unlikely he does so here as well...which means when Grian and Scar come visit there's a chance he "accidentally" kills one of them when they trigger a trap... knowing them It's probably Scar who goes down to 2 lives.

With Martyn and Etho as reds Dogwarts still goes after the Monopoly mountain alliance (Desert Duo + Flower Ranchers) which in this timeline also contains BigB after he betrayed Dogwarts.

So Grian still blows up the desert. Grian dies, so does Scott, then Jimmy...followed by Cleo and Tango and Martyn...and later Impulse and Skizz (whose death cures Grian of the curse). Cleo and Martyn are out of the game.

At the end of session 7: Tango, Scott and Ren have 3 lives. Scar, Grian, Impulse Jimmy, Bdubs and BigB have 2 lives. Etho and Skizz have 1 life. Martyn, Cleo and Joel are out.

Session 8 has 3 boogeymen: Scar, Tango and Scott... At this point in time Dogwarts is their biggest enemy so this is the perfect chance to attack them unprompted. Dogwarts is surrounded, Tango kills Skizz, Scott kills Etho and Scar kills Ren. Dogwarts is destroyed and Scar takes the enchanter.

Ren with 2 lives is left alone and becomes courtless, without resources he's killed by mobs and finally becomes the red king.

Session 8 ends with only one red lifer left and relative peace in the land of third life.

Session 9 in turn only has 1 boogeyman: Bdubs... considering his track record I think he just kills the first person he can find...which is either Impulse or Tango... flipped a coin It's Impulse. Impulse becomes red.

Ren tries to get revenge and traps Scotts and Jimmy's base (aka the base more likely not to have people in it when he does it). Considering Scott is good at avoiding traps and Jimmy is not we can say Jimmy dies and becomes red.

Impulse tries to kill Bdubs but Tango saves his ally by gifting Impulse a life.

Jimmy turns on Grian and is killed in the process. (Jimmy does stuff like this in Last Life, Limited Life and Secret Life once he goes red so It's not unlikely he does it here as well). Scott kills Grian for killing Jimmy and is killed by Scar and BigB immediately after.

By the end of session 9: Scar, Scott, Impulse, Tango, Bdubs and BigB have 2 lives. Ren and Grian have 1 life. Jimmy, Etho, Skizz, Martyn, Cleo and Joel are out.

Session 10 is Scar, Grian and BigB vs Scott vs Bdubs, Tango and Impulse vs Ren. Scar is killed early on, then Bdubs, BigB, Tango, Impulse and Rem. (This is just based on general skill and at this point this is much more fanfiction then analysis). I think by the end of the fight Bdubs and BigB are out as well and everyone else is red.

The last people alive are Scar, Grian, Scott, Tango and Impulse. Since Scott is alone I doubt he survives this, since Scott is a good fighter I think he brings someone down with him. Since Grian kill Jimmy I think Scott kills Scar before dying leaving Grian, Impulse and Tango.

Impulse and Tango work together to get rid if Grian and remain the last people alone...

Tango takes out the clock IOU and asks Impulse not to fight back.

Tango wins Third Life.

#hermitblr #trafficblr #hermitcraft #traffic smp #grian #scott smajor #goodtimeswithscar #jimmy solidarity #martyn inthelittlewood #rendog #bigbst4tz2 #bdubs #zombiecleo #ethoslab #joel smallishbeans #tangotek #impulsesv #skizzleman

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