#wheezing arrow

[churino6]

Last post but now in color

Oh and the other guys too

The breast force are all seekers for my continuity, except guyhawk, hes an angry bird

[mrfandomwars]

The Best Seeker

[passerinesoncaffeine]

Hyrule and Four expression appreciation post as they were so silly this update and I’m crying laughing

art by @/linkeduniverse

[vexeria17]

OMIGOSH guys! You really have to have this on your to-read list. It's peak comedy with a probably the best visual writing I've ever read, and will absolutely make your week! Seriously this is probably at the top of my favorite dpxdc crossovers yet. Imagine how this could get expanded? Perfection 😂 

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Danny Phantom, DCU, Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman - All Media Types, Green Lantern - All Media Types, Green Arrow (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Danny Fenton, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman), Oliver Queen, Hal Jordan (Green Lantern), Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Barry Allen, Wally West, Patrick "Eel" O'Brian Additional Tags: Danny Fenton is a Little Shit, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Danny keeps saving heroes in bad cosplay of said hero he is rescuing, Clark will fight Bruce for adoption rights, Oliver will fight them both, Hal is traumatized by Danny's Olympic level trauma dumping, Barry's love language is feeding people and pummeling their evil godfathers, Diana thinks Danny is a normal kid who occationally dresses up to help, She's technically not wrong, Barbara gets to watch the Joker suffer, Bruce takes one look at this feral child and goes Mine Now, The Batfam discussing who had the best cosplay during a crime scene, Heroes get back at Danny for the cosplay Summary:

After accidently getting launched through a natural rift and stuck in a alternate universe, Danny decides to help the local heroes while waiting to get picked up. But he doesn’t do it as Phantom or Fenton, oh no. He doesn’t want either of his identities to get mixed up in all this nonsense and get traced back to him. So what does he do? Crappy cosplay.

[amelia-queen-black]

Felicity: Are you having a depressive episode?

Oliver: A depressive episode?

Oliver: I’m having a depressive series and we’re just on season one.

[qc-wiggles]

cursed genshin au from a month ago! enjoy.

(read tags for more)

[jaybuilds]

[garma-mom]

[liquidcatt]

When you two met, he was adamant on showing you around the school, but gave in after multiple pleas from his home teacher. You were a little shy at first and was worried about getting lost, but caught on quickly after being shown around. You started to get the hang of the place and discovered the guy playing volleyball. You played volleyball in elementary school, but grew out of it. You two became friends and one day, he introduced you to his friend group. 

They were aloof from you at first, but quickly became pals after hanging out with them. You all decided to goof off one day to pass the time like cracking jokes and imitating random people. One of his friends made a funny noise that made the whole group break out into a laughing fit. Some were coughing and wheezing while others were crying. All except one. Him

Not because the joke was terrible,in fact it was hilarious, but because he was focused on you. Your face lit up like it was as bright as the sun. You hugged herself, holding your stomach so you wouldn’t hack up a lung. But what made him focus on you was your laugh. The way you laughed came out was like angels singing. Your laugh was full of joy and pure mirth. Hearing you laugh for the first time was as if Cupid 's arrow struck his heart. 

And he felt it. 

He felt the sudden warm feeling in his heart. He tried to ignore it, but hearing you laugh made him happy. He got excited whenever you stopped by the gym to visit. He’d flash you a smile whenever he scores a point in a match. He almost had a heart attack when you joked about becoming the volleyball club's manager. He cried in your arms after losing a game. He always saw you waiting for him by the door after school, walking home side by side. The more you two hung out, the more he felt at ease when he was around you. He felt safe.

From that moment on, he said to himself, ‘That’s her. That’s the girl I’m gonna marry’.

Kageyama, Tsukishima, Miya twins, Suna, Akaashi, Kenma, Yaku, Lev, Kiyoomi, Ushijima, Iwaizumi, Oikawa (+your fav)

header by @cafekitsune please share if you love this cause I know others will

[mysterycitrus]

[a roy pov companion snippet to persephone part two]

There was a time, just after his father’s death, when Roy would fall into fits of choking suffocation.

His throat would close, his mouth turning itchy and hot and tight and he’d gasp and claw at his own flesh, desperate for air. Wheezing, bent over on all fours, struggling to breathe and desperate for relief, swallowing around that phantom smoke in his lungs that clung to him and refused to leave.

Brave Bow would find him in the dirt, press a calloused hand to his forehead and brush his hair from his eyes. He’d had the same hands as Roy’s father, then – steady from years fletching arrows.

Calm, boy, he’d say. The fire is gone, and you remain. You remain, and for that you must breathe.

It’d taken years before Roy felt it again, crouched with a needle in his arm and Oliver Queen’s shadow casting him in darkness. That same, encompassing squeeze that pushed his organs taut against his bones, stretched like taffy and drawing all air from his body. It’d been Dinah there with him, that time. Different callouses, with that same tender gentleness.

Then, Jade. Lian. Ollie. Donna. His comfort changed shape, and he learnt to drag himself out of the fire by himself, breathing around the fist in his mouth. The feeling became familiar, and so did the way it would leave him trembling and skittish. In and out. Inhale, exhale. You remain, and for that you must breathe.

Now, he’s sitting on a rooftop in Queens, and the smoke has returned to drown his best friend, because Dick Grayson believes there is evil in him. That all the good he’s done is poisonous. That he bears the burden of a grown man’s mistakes. Because – because Bruce Wayne couldn’t let one good fucking thing in the world lie.

He carries through the motions, watching himself from outside his own body as Dick thrashes, refuses to breathe until Donna physically compresses his lungs for him, forcing him to inhale. His heart is beating so fast it’s as if it’s not beating at all.

Never in his life has Roy wanted to kill someone more.

Donna is staring bullets into the side of his head as they descend into Dick’s apartment, holding him with a tight grip. Dick, younger Dick, seventeen-year-old hurt and miserable and alone Dick, stays silent but his eyes flutter like he’s about to pass out. The bruise on his face has only darkened in the hours since they left Jason Todd’s apartment, and the yellow spots on his cheekbone have started to purple. The bags beneath his eyes are deep.

How did I never notice he was like this? Roy thinks, half incredulous at himself. How did we let this happen that first time?

There was an answer, but it was for an older Dick who still carried all his cards to his chest. Would they be forgiven when that Dick found out what they knew about him? How they knew him now, better than they had before?

Garth, bless him, is holding a performatively casual pose as they gently push Dick through the open window. The soup is in a bowl – the slightly misshapen one that’d been Damian’s first try with a kiln – and Garth looks at him, then the soup, and pivots to start the kettle instead. What Dick really needs is solids, and maybe some protein, Roy knows, but the chances of him just throwing it back up again are high.

“Garth,” Roy says, and Garth turns those big, glistening eyes at him. It’s like staring into a lava lamp. “I’m sorry, but nobody wants any fucking soup.” Then he risks putting his hands on Dick’s shoulders – the kid doesn’t flinch, thank God – and says: “You, stay there. I need to go put my head in the shower.”

He presses down gently until Dick sits on the couch, carefully avoiding Donna’s gaze as she tries to catch his eye and rubs his hands over his face. Inhale, exhale. The smoke thickens, twists, chokes. Roy tilts a little but manages to regain his balance, and passes Donna as she goes to Garth, still fretting in the kitchen. Trusting, finally, that Dick wasn’t going to bolt right this second, he walks out towards the bathroom and immediately collides with Wally.

Wally’s still buzzing a little, and the hairs on Roy’s arms stand on end as he’s zapped when Wally grabs his elbows to hold him upright. There’s a deep line between his eyebrows, but when he looks up over Roy’s shoulders at Dick, his face goes slack. This worked out, actually. It’d keep help keep them both occupied to talk out their feelings, until Roy could get back in control of himself.

“Easy, fleetfeet,” Roy says. “Babysit for a second, would you? I need to wash my face.”

“I thought we decided we didn’t want him to run,” Wally hisses back, but Roy just gives him a shove in the couch’s general direction and staggers down the hall.

He hears Wally move forward as he manages to kick the door shut, falling against it as he starts to gasp. Roy presses his head back against the tiles, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately inhaling in through his nose and out his mouth. His throat itches. A throbbing pain starts at his temple, beating with his heart and radiating to his jaw and neck and shoulders until he tenses into a spasm.

In, out. Breathe, hold, release. Roy manages to swallow, but the noise he makes sounds like a sob, and he fumbles with the faucet until he can trust that the water is drowning him out. Again, and he claps a hand over his mouth. Everything feels ready to snap.

He got through it that first time, says a voice in his head. It sounds a lot like Connor’s patient grace. Remember? He’s still here, just the same.

But this is so much worse, Roy replies internally. Can’t you see? Because now he knows it’s not gonna end. It’ll never end.

No. This is too much.

The first time he grabs at his phone, it falls from his trembling fingers and lands on the floor with a crack. It takes him one, two more tries to retrieve it, and instead of standing he folds himself onto the floor, sat pressed against the wall next to the basin. The blue light makes his eyes sting and seeing Lian smiling back just makes that rolling nausea return, thinking of a young Dick Grayson stare at his daughter in wonder. Eight years old, like Dick’s own father hadn’t fallen when Dick was that age. Like Dick had lost a father all over again a decade later. It hurts so bad.

Thankfully, when he swipes through his speed dial, she answers.

“You’re late with an update, boyo.”

For a moment, he can’t even get the words out, just audibly breathes into the receiver with his eyes shut and his free hand twisted into his hair.

“Roy? What happened? Is Dick alright?”

He has to swallow around the lump in his throat again.

“Is Lian there?” Roy manages to get out in a croak. He truly doesn’t know what he’ll do if Mia’s taken her to MOMA or something. Maybe permanently move into Dick’s bathroom. “She free to talk?”

“Sure.” He hears Dinah move and begin to walk. She’s calm, but her steps are quick and loud down the line. “Give me an answer, Roy. If you want to talk to her because you’re bleeding out-“

“No, no,” Roy says. “No, it’s just – it’s been a long day.”

It’s only about twelve pm, but Dinah doesn’t comment on it. He hears a door open, then shut. His heartrate picks up again.

“Dinah,” he says, and he hears her stop. “Dinah.”

She knows, clearly.

“He’s seventeen, Dinah.”

“Yeah, Babs said.” A pause. “Seventeen, huh?”

“He’s…” Roy stops, tugs at his hair a little. “I can’t tell you –he’s been saying-”

“You were all kids. You know that right? The stuff you were doing wasn’t normal, in retrospect. Makes sense he’d freak you out.”

But it’s not just that. It was the casual acceptance of baiting Deathstroke. Dick’s conviction of his own fault about losing Robin. His terror of confronting Bruce. The profound, absolute loss of everything. Dick Grayson lost his father at eight years old.

Roy can’t reply to that, really, so Dinah says:

“Here she is.”

There’s a shuffle, another pause, then –

“Daddy?”

The tension leaves his body so fast he almost drops the phone entirely, and his legs properly unfold into a sprawl.

“Hey, princess.”

“You okay?” Her voice raises in pitch slightly, like when she’s getting nervous. He’d put a lot of effort into stopping her from sounding like that, so it’s jarring now. “Dinah said… Dinah said-“

“I’m fine. Really. I just wanted to check that Mia wasn’t buying you more Legos from the giftshop with my card.”

“They were mermaid Legos,” Lian tells him, worry gone entirely and now a little huffy. “And Mia said – Mia said you were a landlord. And could buy them.”

“Daddy is not a gazillionaire like Batman.”

“Does Batman have Legos in the Batcave?”

Batman has bloodied memorabilia of all the people he’s let down, Roy thinks privately, but says instead:

“No, but he has a dinosaur.”

“A real one?”

“No. It’s like the one’s out of Jurassic Park. A robot dinosaur.”

“A robot dinosaur,” Lian says rapturously. “Can we visit sometime? With Uncle Dick?”

I am never letting either of you near him ever again, is the correct answer, as much as Dick would throw a fit over it. Roy clears his throat, rubs at his eyes, and changes the subject.

“Maybe. But I want a school update. I didn’t get to talk to you about it, yesterday.”

“Well,” she stops, and he can hear her think it over. “I’m better at spelling than Cassidy, because she always forgets her ayches. But I taught her a trick for it. I can teach you too!”

My best friend was only eight, he thinks.

“Yeah, baby,” he says in a hoarse voice, and tilts back his head. “Tell me all about it.”

[haveihitanerve]

Oliver Queen was quite certain he was going to die. He had been holding in a laugh for the past ten minutes, which was dangerous under any circumstances, and downright fatal if it was an explosive, loud and hearty laugh, which this one was. Especially considering that no one else seemed to be as tickled as he was, and if he did laugh, he would be laughing at the Batman. The thing was, that Batman had brought his own coffee mug and thermos to the Watchtower (because apparently their coffee wasn't good enough, or something, as batman hadn't exactly offered an explanation) and both had phrases on them that would be amusing belonging to anyone, and were downright hilarious due to the fact that they belonged to Batman. The thermos said “I’m not saying I’m Batman, I’m just saying you’ll never see me and Batman in the same room together” which, sadly, no one else seemed to have even looked twice at, and his mug, which had a large black bat on it, which said “We’re a Batty little family”. Both items were very much not helping Oliver to win his fight with his mirth, when Batman caught his eye. “Oh shit.” he muttered when the Bat began to move towards him. Well, he was bound to die anyway. “Nice mug.” Oliver greeted the second Batman got close. To his surprise, Batmans lips twitched upward. “Thank you. My children got it for me. I’m surprised you're the first to mention it.” Oliver looked at him in surprise. “Oh my freaking gods.” Batman, the Batman, wanted people to comment on his mug. He was proud of it. Oliver finally released his cackle, and Batmans smile grew marginally in delight. “Oh man that is priceless.” Oliver chuckled when he had finally gotten himself under control. “But hey, kids are like that. I mean, mine got me a shirt with two arrows pointing up, with a bow that was sideways beneath it to make a simile face.” Oliver sketched on his own shirt with his finger to display the image. Batman chuckled lightly. “Thats… quite funny.” “Yeah.” Oliver agreed, thinking back with a smile how often he wore it, and Roy’s delight every time. “My kids,” Batman added, drawing Oliver out of his thoughts. “Got me a tie that says, uh, “Worlds Best Dad In Gotham. Which… o-k i guess..” Oliver stared at him agape before absolutely losing it at the tone with which Batman had quoted his tie. “That is… brilliant.” Oliver wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Wow. Wow wow wow wow wow.” Oliver smiled with relish. “I love that.” Batman smiled back. “I do too.” “Uh, green arrow? Whats so funny?” Green Lantern called over. “Oh nothing, nothing.” Oliver called back. “Just some uh.. Dad jokes.” Hal made a noise of confusion, but Batman chuckled lightly. “Dad jokes?” Green Lantern asked, utterly befuddled. Batman and Green Arrow grinned at each other.  

Oliver Queen was quite certain he was going to die. He had a meeting in Gotham today, which was always long and boring, especially since he usually only dealt with the lower members of Wayne Enterprises. Not that he had anything against status, not really, it was only that they were always such a drag, and it was clear they wanted a higher lifestyle. But, to his surprise, when Oliver walked into the meeting room, the CEO of WE was actually present, sitting at the head of the table in deep discussion with a man Oliver vaguely remembered was named something Fox. Lucy? “Ah, Ollie, so good of you to meet with us!” Boomed a voice and Oliver turned in surprise to see Bruce Wayne. “Bruce? Hey man! I didn't know you’d be here!” Oliver grinned in surprised delight, offering the other man a quick hug. Bruce shrugged, sipping some coffee. “I’m just here as a chauffeur. I’m taking Timmy out after this, but I’ll be a part of the meeting if you want some decent conversation.” He winked and Oliver laughed. “Not that my son isn't a good conversationalist.” He added. Oliver waved a hand, moving to his seat and offering the kid a quick smile. Tim glanced over, offering a wave before returning to his heated debate. “Naw I know he is. Wasn't expecting you guys to be here. Glad you are though.” Oliver sighed in relief. Bruce hummed in acknowledgement, taking a seat next to him. “Well I’m glad to see you too Ollie, theres, actually something I want to tell you.” At that, his son finally looked over for more than a second, something gleaming in his eyes. “Oh?” Oliver asked intrigued, leaning forward. That was when he saw it. Tucked just barely beneath the lapel of Bruces suit jacket…. A tie. A tie that said “Worlds Best Dad in Gotham. Which… O-k I guess..” Oliver sat back like electrocuted. Bruce and Tim watched him carefully, and Fox gave a very good impression of looking out the window. “You- uh- you're.” Oliver cleared his throat and Bruce leaned in intently. “Yes?” “Your tie.” Oliver blurted. “Its… nice. My friend has one too.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Does he?” He lifted his mug, which had a large black bat on it, and sipped. Oliver swallowed. “W-why me? Why now?” Bruce shrugged, glancing over at his son who was now also doing a very good job of admiring the ceiling tiles. “Because I trust you. And because I need a good friend.” Oliver smiled weakly. “Well, you already had that in Brucie.” Bruce smiled softly. “I know. But friendship requires trust. And Batman needs all the friends he can get.” Oliver chuckle lightly. “So… Dad jokes was the way to go huh?” Bruce smiled, pleased, leaning back. “Yep. Dad jokes.” Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen grinned at each other. 

[lilrainbowcloud]

Echo

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Child of Apollo Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff maybe

Word count: 1.25k [masterlist]

Requested by @almost-gabrielle

An arrow sailed through the air as you calculated the distance between you and them. Concluding that you won't make it in time, you decided to turn on your weapon to the person who you were once familiar with.

The arrow planted itself on the trunk of a tree nearby, wheezing past Backbiter and Riptide from clashing together again, earning a gasp from them. Stunned in place momentarily from a third party as you ran towards them.

Your dominant hand knocked another arrow to the bow as you stopped in front of Percy, raising the tip towards Luke. You were horrified from the deathly stare Luke had given Percy from yards away when you went looking for them.

Not knowing what was happening, you felt the need to protect Percy even if he just had been in camp for a short amount of time. But with the gift of being able to acquire the knowledge of prophecies, due to your father being Apollo, you had the conscious thought of who's in the right or wrong.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here?” Sounding more shocked than irritated, a shadow of guilt and shame passed his face for one of his longtime friends from the camp had witnessed his becoming.

“Could've asked you the same thing, Castellan.” The usage of his last name did earn a reaction out of him. Displeased as you had never addressed him as such. You readjusted your grip on the tail end of the arrow.

“Give me a chance to explain things to you, [Y/N],” Lowering his double edged sword, his demeanor and tone changed as that of an adult consulting a child. Or one that was trying to manipulate. You knew of those tactics used.

“Don't listen to him!” Percy exclaimed from behind you. Then, he told you of Luke’s plan to recruit and to restore the being of Kronos.

Horror filled your veins as you listened to how absurd the string of words were.

“How-, why?” Was what you managed to give out as your eyebrows furrowed looking at the son of Hermes in front of you.

“One day I’ll make you understand,” Taking a few steps back, you almost didn't see the portal that had opened up behind Luke in which the direction you thought he was going, “And you will join me,” Looking over your shoulder, he spoke directly to the boy behind you, “Especially you, Percy.”

Then he disappeared.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No, no. I'm fine,”

Just then, you saw that he was gripping his bicep, a dark flow of red was blooming on the fabric of his flannel. A grimace on his face.

“Oh my god, Percy.” Without a word you guided him to the infirmary after making a makeshift tourniquet by sacrificing your overshirt. Being in cabin 7 meant that you had access to the infirmary at all times in case of emergency. And this was an emergency.

Cleaning a wound and healing it with a salve was a common occurrence in your days. Muscle memory took hold of you as you sat Percy down on one of the beds and ordered him to stay still as you worked on his injury.

It was quite between the two of you. The only sound coming from your working and the soft crashing of the water near the river. The celebration from your team winning Capture the Flag had died down as everybody dispersed.

Both too occupied with racing thoughts trying to process what had happened. You both lost a friend and what you had considered your family.

Pulling your mind and focus back into reality, though it felt like you were trudging through muddied water each step making you sink deeper, you took a seat next to Percy on the bed. Exhaustion took over every fiber of your body as your tired eyes stared into the wooden wall.

“How are you feeling, Percy?” Managing a turn of your head towards him, you saw him shaking his head slowly, unfocused eyes trained to the wall in front the same as you. You felt awful for him to experience such a thing. And to ask such a stupid question. But it was a natural question one might say.

Of course you're not okay.

Betrayed by the person who got you to accept and introduce your new life only for them to turn it around.

Feeling drained, you stood up to leave him be. Maybe your presence was not required. Maybe he needed the company of his best friend? Who were you to him anyway? The best thing you could offer was your aid to his injury and perhaps nothing more.

Saying your goodbye to him, you stood to take your leave.

Only, you were gently pulled by your wrist making you stop.

Looking up at you was such pleading blue eyes curtained by soft blond curls. He truly was the son of Poseidon as you watch the colour of the sea swirls in his eyes reflecting the state of his mind even in low warm lighting. For a moment, you were in awe, mouth falling open slightly.

“Could you, maybe,” Averting his gaze to his balled fist in his lap, suddenly shy though he hadn't let go of your wrist, “Stay here?”

With me? Was what he had meant to say. It didn't get past his lips but you thought the same. You pitied him for what he had to go through this summer.

Although you haven't spent enough time together, you did however admire him for his bravery and determination in taking your shared destiny of being a half-blood by the reign and guiding through the trenches of your fate fearlessly. In your time of being a camper here, you had never met one demigod with the likeness of him.

Did you develop some sort of affection towards him? Maybe a little.

Or a lot more than that.

For Percy reminded you so much of your past friend.

There was a time before you were exposed to this other world, the world of your divine lineage, you had a close friend that he had resembled from the appearance down to his personality.

When Percy first landed in the infirmary, the air had been knocked out of your lung as the thought of him being your past friend was true. But upon learning his name and background, you lost your hope.

Because you had lost that friend when one day, when your scent had attracted too many monsters, it had hurt him in the process of you trying to fend it off.

To him, who was a mortal blinded by the Mist, he didn't understand your action of running away. Without saying goodbye.

To your younger self, it was the best option as to not get him involved and possibly intertwined with the mishaps of your life. Even if it was not fair to anyone.

It was better to save himself from you.

Though it still tugged at your heartstrings in that moment of him holding onto you.

Do you indulge in your feelings for a lost person that you might have considered as a lover, or put aside your selfishness and stay as a friend?

Before you could come up with a conclusion of your own, the heaviness of your heart pulled you back to reality, and right back into his ocean eyes.

You felt like drowning in them.

“Okay, I’ll stay with you.”

[mrfandomwars]

Best Seeker Polls: 1st Revival Round

After a LONG TIME because my life was Busy and was easier to reblog stuff than do the polls, the Best Seeker Polls are back with the first Revival Round. Reminder that this Round is to decide who, from those that did not win in the first Qualifier, will move forward AND that this round will only last One Day.

So! Vote who you think should survive!

May theBest Seeker survive!

[bihanapologist]

✮ noob saibot harassing his wife into joining him in death out of twisted love and care for them (feminine terms used but no gendered pronouns for reader)

w/c = 1.7k

cw = slight suicide ideation, noob calls reader "little bird" if that pet name is too cringe then please don't read!

a/n = the reader has a chronic illness and is the physical embodiment of spring simply because it parallels bi-han

You weren’t supposed to be here. You were instructed to hide. Your clan was supposed to protect you. But they’re gone.

Dead.

Your only option is to run. Return to that reprehensible faction. Find your brother-in-law — the only person you trust. Despite knowing that embarking on this treacherous journey would be unkind to your sickly body, you have to try.

Your body condemns your choice. You’re wheezing and hacking up blood as arrows whizz past your face. Your legs throb, begging you to end this excruciating torture. At last, your knees finally give up on you, sending you pummelling into the dirt. You lie there as footsteps grow closer and closer. Debilitated, parched and miles away from Articka, you close your eyes and resign yourself to your fate.

Loud, heavy thuds follow pained squawks. Your eyes snap open. You push through the bursts of pain to turn, to face your unexpected hero…or future killer. A man cloaked in black stands within the shadows — not under, no, he isn’t just shrouded under the shadows; he is one with them — a bloodied sickle in hand.

"Who are you?"

"Your saviour," the man replies with a rasp, his voice soft yet menacing. "Don’t you recognise me, little bird?"

Your blood freezes.

“You can't..."

"Can't what, (Name)?" he asks, a subtle amusement in his gravelly voice.

No, this couldn���t be him. But the only one who called you by that pet name was your ex-husband. Your dead ex-husband.

Years ago, you were wedded to the elder Sub-Zero — Bi-han. Although the union was solely for diplomatic reasons, it was a blissful marriage. Despite your illness and weak body, he never viewed you as a burden. At times, you would sing to cheer him up after a particularly tiring mission. In turn, he affectionately called you ‘oriole’ after the golden songbird. Your former husband — the one who cut you fruits and watched over your feverish form when you were bedridden — couldn’t possibly be the same man as the one in front of you.

His shrouded body ripples like ink, chalky pupilless eyes probing into your soul. His sickle glistens, beads of scarlet dripping down the polished metal only adding to the macabre image. The only word you would describe what you could behold is grim. Grim. Yes, his garb is akin to that of a grim reaper.

If this is Bi-Han, he is nothing but a shadow of himself.

"It's been too long, little bird.”

"You're not Bi-Han," you mutter, holding your breath as you take in his haunting silhouette. "My husband is dead."

"Dead, alive, it makes no difference to me. I am merely the tool of my master's will. But I do remember you."

Every step is slow. Every step is deliberate. Every step echoes through the vacuous forest as he treads past the lifeless bodies. Those same men that butchered your entire clan like they were cattle. The same men that chased you across China and were mere seconds away from claiming your life. All dead in the blink of an eye, slain by ghostly hands. He makes his way closer and closer to you, his presence alone instilling fear and dread as you slowly back away.

"I remember your beauty and kindness, but most of all, I remember your fragility,” he remarks, towering over your fallen form. "You are still so delicate. But you have more resolve than I give you credit for."

"Who resurrected you?”

"The Sorcerer Quan Chi, of course. He perfected me, gave me the power and body I deserve."

He straightens himself, the moonlight casting upon his umbrous form, beckoning you to bask in it. Your eyes only reflect fear and pity. This isn't the man you married.

"Perfect? Bi-Han, you've become a shell of the man you were!" you protest.

The mask covers his perpetually emotionless face, making him impossible to read. Bi-Han watches you in silence as you are overtaken by grief and anguish at the sight of him. You couldn’t even recognise him. You have heard of the horrors of the Netherrealm and creations that Quan Chi constructs but this is beyond anything you have ever seen. He doesn’t have his voice, he doesn’t speak like him, he barely looks like himself, can you truly call this your Bi-Han?

"You have no idea what I am," Bi-Han sneers. "I have become darkness incarnate. I am more powerful than you can possibly imagine, (Name). This perfected body allows me to do things I could never have done as the human Bi-Han. I have been reborn, reforged now by the darkness. And soon, the realms will know my terror.”

"Oh, Bi-Han," you croak, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. "How far you have fallen."

"I have not fallen. I have ascended with the darkness, and the shadows are where I belong."

"You belong with your family, Bi-Han!" you protest, voice breaking. "You belong with Kuai Liang and—"

"A dead man needs no family," Bi-Han states in that unfeeling, inhumane voice. "I am what I should have always been — but you will come to understand, once you join me."

Your eyes widen. "Join you?"

He takes another step closer, his silhouette blocking the moonlight and looming over your cowering form. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, feeling like a cornered animal in his presence.

"Yes, join me.” He extends a gloved hand. "Join me in the Netherrealm and be reborn."

"Why would I want to die?!" you bawl, backing away.

His gloved hand remains outstretched despite your blatant show of horror, his sickle in his other hand hanging by his side. There is a bleak, void-like darkness radiating from him, white pupils glowing in the night.

"For the same reason I did," he replies, his voice low and quiet. So that you can live."

"That doesn't make sense," you object, furrowing your eyebrows. "I am alive. My powers are of spring and rebirth. I'm the physical manifestation of life."

Bi-Han doesn't answer right away. Instead, he stares at you with those unfeeling eyes, his mouth hidden beneath the mask. You stiffen at the sound of laughter. It's the first instance where has shown emotion in this encounter.

"You call this living?" the wraith challenges you. "This existence where you are forced to live like a caged bird, hidden from others, tied to a bed, a slave to medicine. Can you honestly call that living?"

Your mouth goes dry. Your gaze is fixed to the ground, trying to form the words. He retracts his hand and he folds his arms. There is something ominous in the calmness of his movements, in the wisps of shadows emanating from him.

"What's wrong? Nothing to say?" He closes the distance once again, but this time, you don’t back away. "Do you know what it's like to truly live? I do. Being reborn as the shadow, the darkness — it is true freedom. Freedom you can only dream of.”

You bite your lip. "Bi-Han, look at what you've become—"

"I am more than I ever was,” he boasts. “The darkness has freed me, just as it will free you. You know better than anyone, oriole. This flesh you wear, it is weak. You could live without it, without those constraints. Be reborn, (Name). Let the darkness save you from the fragility you have always possessed, the weakness you have tried to hide."

“I can't bear to see you like this…”

"I offer you immortality, little bird. I am offering you the means to escape this fragile existence. There will be no more pain. Only life. Eternal life."

Tears flood your vision. Your head hurts. Your bones hurt, your body hurts. It’s cold and an airy breeze blows past your face, sending goosebumps up your skin. For years, you cried for your late husband. For years, you wish that someday, in another place and time, you could be reunited with him. Not like this. Your husband, your Bi-Han…how could he?

You freeze at the feeling of cold metal against your throat. You swallow, blinking away your tears as you gaze up at the wraith.

"My little bird," Bi-Han whispers, "I would do anything to protect you. Join me, and I will save you. I am the embodiment of death. And you are the personification of life. Let us dance in death together, under the moonlight."

…Living is a burden.

You never chose to live. You never chose to be born with this illness or to be hunted for your powers that you couldn’t even awaken. Is a normal, peaceful life too much to ask for? You had a glimpse of it when you were with Bi-Han. If you squint, you can still taste the sweetness of peaches swirling on your tongue. He always fed you when you were too tired to lift up your arms. He was so good to you.

You miss him.

You open your mouth to answer. But the feeling of hot ichor dripping off his sickle and puddling on your clothes causes the words to vanish in an instant. You stiffen when you catch the glint of the blade in the moonlight. Dread makes its home in the pit of your belly.

You don’t want to die.

A flash of ice hits the wraith square in the chest, toppling him off his feet and sending him colliding into a tree. He lays there motionless, his form sprawled over the ground. For a moment, you think he is dead until he lets out a groan and rises to his feet. His eyes glint under the shadows of his hood and he looks towards the source of the ice.

Lucidity clicks back into place and you let out a sigh of relief as you shake your head. "You arrived in time, Kuai Liang."

"(Name)!" Bi-Han’s younger brother runs over to you and helps you up. "Forgive me, I didn't arrive fast enough."

The wraith’s expression remains emotionless despite being hurled by the ice blast. Yet, you could tell that isn’t the case by the way his grip tightens around the sickle’s handle.

He snarls as the shadows covering his silhouette begin to gather, the darkness swirling around him like a cloak. He grips the sickle tightly in his hand as the shadows rise above him, shrouding his form in a blanket of darkness. The shadow shroud ripples in the night, and then dissipates, leaving nothing but emptiness. The forest is quiet once more.

“Was that really Bi-Han?” you croak, vision blurry from tears.

“Unfortunately so,” Kuai Liang answers. “We can talk later. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

divider by @/cafekitsune

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

I actually had random motivation to write a small thing for Death Seeking Creator so here *throws at the wall* I'll post more if I feel inspiration.

Small warning, I tried not to be too explicit with the deaths. But who knows if I succeeded so apologies if you're squeamish with blood and such things.

~~~~~~

It's the same thing every time.

They wake up, a scream tearing from their soul as tears fall down. They could barely taste the bile that threatened to eject from their empty stomach, causing them to wheeze and cough to prevent it. But soon laughter bubbled up, their hands clutched their head as their voice croaked as more and more giggles erupted. 

It could barely be recognized as laughter as their hoarse voice screamed and wailed out to the darken clouds as rain pelted their golden scars and tattered cloth. Thunder could be heard as they finally lose their breath, coughing as their body forced them to calm down from their fit of insanity.

As they breathed, their mind could only think back to how they ended up here.

They had chosen to travel through the desert, since that's all they could do when waking up in such a desolate place. They had hoped to come across a group of mercenaries or even scholars that could help them. But instead all they met was the blood red eyes of the character- nay, the person they once cherished and adored. 

They couldn't remember his words, only the coldness in his voice as he looked upon them in disgust and animosity. They didn't even have time to process as he grabbed their throat and stole their breath, pinning them onto the hot sand as they stared back up in shock. Then they saw his face morph into unbridled rage, releasing them as if their skin burned his. They didn't have a chance to recover once the spear pierced them.

It's the same thing every time.

They slowly stood, feeling the rain hit their skin as they looked up into the endless sky. Their ears picked up movement from within the forest they now reside in, a wide grin now beginning to rise. They turned to face a familiar pair of glowing eyes, once that held a familiar rage.

“Oh my! It's been awhile Barbat-” They cut off as the arrow flew towards them, hitting its mark. 

A scream rips out as they fall onto their knees, clutching onto the arrow piercing their heart. Blood pools out of their mouth, their airways flooding from the liquid.

Laughter bubbles up again, their veins filled with euphoria as they see the black spots in their vision. The rain pours harder, practically leaving marks against their brittle skin. But they couldn't hear it as their own voice drowned out the thunder. Their grin was wide, almost manic as they opened their arms out to the enraged god before them.

“Oh thank you! Thank you for such a wonderful feeling!” They cried out in happiness, babbling at how euphoric their pain feels. Their hands, now gripping onto the arrow, drive it further into their body. They wail as it brings about more pain, tears trailing down their cheeks. Or was it tears? It was impossible to tell for either party because of the rain.

They giggled as they coughed out a small puddle of blood, no longer able to hold it in. The golden color glows warmly against the cold grass, sparkling as if stars had been placed inside it. They laugh louder, babbling about how the lack of air has made them hallucinate, not paying attention to the horror on the face of the god.

They could hear him yell over the rain, feeling his hands now force their face to meet his. They wheezed at his expression, gurgling out words of mocking. Their blood poured out as each word was said, their eyes shining wide. They could feel his hands quickly grab theirs, attempting to rip it away from the arrow, but it only made them rip said object out. More blood pooled around them as they cried out from the pain.

They couldn't breath, their wide grin softening into a small smile as the darkness finally took hold. They paid no mind to the screaming from the god, nor his words of pain. 

Thunder boomed as they went limp in the now weeping god's arms.

It's the same fucking thing every time.

[not-neverland06]

Alone and Forsaken

one-shot

Joel Miller x fem!reader

A/N: I got COVID and haven't had a coherent thought in five days, so if this doesn't make sense it's not my fault, it's the virus. (Thank you @benkeibear for the dividers)

Summary: You're aren't anything to Joel Miller. You're a comfort, habit, and necessity. But you've never been anything more. It gets to you and you do what you always do, you run. When you make the permanent move to Jackson you've got no choice but to face the truth of what you are to each other.

WC: 9.4K

Part two here

You glanced down at Ellie, sweat was beading on her forehead and she was shivering in her sleeping bag. You glanced towards Joel, he was staring down at his gun, he’d been cleaning it for the past ten minutes. 

“We’re right near Jack-”

“No,” his voice was rough, a command rather than an interruption. You sighed and went back to crafting some arrows for Ellie. “We’ll find some medicine tomorrow.”

You gave a noncommittal hum, you could hear him sigh from across the fire. You’d managed to clean out an old office today, you were camping out on the roof. Joel had determined the fog provided enough cover to not have to worry about others seeing the smoke. 

He placed his gun down and leaned his elbows on his knees, you could feel his stare boring into you but you refused to give in. He wasn’t the only one who could be a stubborn bastard. “Y/N-”

“You’re acting like an old fool.”

He scoffed, “I’m not that old.”

“Joel,” you finally glanced up. “Ellie needs medicine, we’re right near your brother’s we might as well see if he’s got anything.” He stared at you for a long moment, not saying anything, until his shoulders slumped and he shrugged. He went back to cleaning his gun and you could tell he had conceded. 

You’d made it to Jackson a year ago after the Firefly incident at the hospital. But it had been too much for all three of you. Years of killing, fighting to keep yourself alive, all on your own, it was too jarring to be in such a quaint little place. 

You couldn’t wake up every morning to a “Howdy, neighbor!” like nothing had changed. There were too many people and it was too forceful a transition from fighting for every last resource to suddenly having everything willingly handed to you. 

Eventually, when it became too tiring to keep fighting, you were sure you would move back to Jackson. For now, each of you enjoyed the freedom of not having to fight for anyone but yourselves. It was an occasional pit stop for supplies and a dose of normalcy. 

You’d been on the road for about six months now, it was time to cycle back onto the path towards Tommy. 

Good timing too, about two days ago Ellie had a sore throat and now she’s pretty much deadweight behind you both. “We’ll head out at dawn.” Joel stood up, nothing more to say, and took first watch. You tucked your arrows away and laid down, hoping to get some sleep before you were on the move again. 

“How much further?”

“Another few miles,” Joel glanced over his shoulder at you. “How’s she doing?”

“I’m doing fine,” Ellie interrupted. But it was hard to believe her when her voice was a barely audible croak and she was leaning against you for support. 

Joel sighed and glanced towards his right, there was a creek and a sunny patch of grass. He started towards it, dropping his pack on a rock and coming to a stop. “We’ll stop here for a break.”

“I said I’m fin-” 

She interrupted herself with a cough that was so jarring you winced. It sounded like her throat was being ripped apart. When she finally caught her breath she reluctantly followed you towards the creek next to Joel. “I’ll check out the area, we shouldn’t be out here long.”

Joel nodded, standing guard next to Ellie while she wheezed trying to catch her breath. You moved away from them, going to check the surrounding area. Just when you deemed too much time had passed and were about to turn around you could feel something cold pressing into the back of your head. 

“Don’t move.”

You slowly dropped your rifle to the forest floor, raising your hands in surrender as the person behind you pulled back the hammer of their gun. “Okay, it’s okay, we can talk about this.” The gun pulled back abruptly and then they were in front of you. 

“Y/N! Damn girl, almost killed you.” Tommy tucked his gun into his holster and pulled you into a brief hug. You sighed and picked your gun back up. 

“The hell are you doing this far out?”

“Been seeing a lot of infected, had to start patrolling out further.” Tommy peered around you, looking for something. “Joel with you?”

You nodded, leading him back to Joel. There was a brief reunion, nothing much considering they’ve been seeing each other a lot more than they used to. Tommy took Ellie on his horse back to Jackson, said it would be faster that way. 

You and Joel still had a few more miles left, walking in silence side by side. 

The silence, as always, had you contemplating your something with Joel. Because you wouldn’t say you and Joel were in a relationship. You’d both loved and lost too much in your life to ever truly be open to something like that again. 

But you granted each other a softness you didn’t offer anyone else. There was an unspoken connection between the two of you that never went acknowledged. You glanced over at him, nudging his arm with your elbow. “More excited about coffee or a shower?”

“More excited about you finally showering.”

You scoffed in faux offense and shoved him lightly. His eyes crinkled, the crow’s feet becoming more prominent as he smirked at you. “Jerk. I smell amazing,” that was a blatant lie. Neither of you smelled great. It’d been about a week since you’d had a chance to really freshen up. Still, it was always fun to mess with him a little bit. 

When you finally made it to Jackson you moved quickly through the inspection station, showing the medics your bite-free body and then headed towards Ellie. 

She was already knocked out, whatever flu medicine they’d managed to scrounge up had done its job quickly. Maria led you to a house at the far end of town, you watched as Joel entered the one across from you. 

You showered, enjoying the foreign feeling of fresh, hot, water running over your skin. You used the clothes Maria provided you, but after an hour of just wandering around the house you were starting to feel restless. 

You had sat on the couch, stared at the black screen of the TV, and gotten back up about three times. You huffed out an irritated breath and headed towards the door. You weren’t sure where you were going but the quiet was starting to feel suffocating. 

The pristine, cozy house, was overwhelming you with memories of a past best left forgotten. You opened the door-

“Why!”

“Shit,” Joel grimaced, offering you an awkward pat on the shoulder instead of an apology. You rubbed your forehead, pain radiating from where he’d hit you. “I was trying to knock, didn’t think you’d open the door.”

You sighed, glancing up at him and shrugging. “I can’t stand being in here. House is too…”

“Big,” he finished. You nodded, stepping outside and joining him on the porch. You both started walking, heading towards his house, the one that actually had chairs on the patio. Luckily the houses you were staying in this time around were farther away from everyone else. 

People walking with their families was a distant noise that was barely discernible. 

Families

The thought made you want to scoff. Families in the apocalypse, fucking ridiculous. “It’s peaceful here.”

“For them,” you glanced at Joel and he seemed to share the same thought as you. You’d changed too much, spilled too much blood to ever let yourself be fully comfortable in a place like this. 

“Do you think you could ever be happy here?” 

You glanced across the street at the large looming house you had just been in. “Not in there, it’s too big for one person.” He nodded, his fingers drumming a soundless tune against his jeans while he sat with you. 

“Went down and saw Ellie while you were cleaning up. She’s making friends.”

You looked at him in astonishment. Hard to believe she was bedridden and being pleasant. He laughed a little and shook his head. “Well, I suppose they were interrogating her more than anything.”

You smiled slightly, “That’s more like it.” 

He was looking off at the town, viewing the few distant people you could see. “She’s been asking to come back a lot more. I think she likes movie nights.” You sighed, knowing where this was going. You supposed the change was inevitable, you had just really hoped that you could push it off a little while longer. 

You just weren’t ready. 

“House is too big for me, too. Maybe it needs two people.” He was already looking at you when you turned to face him. His face didn’t betray anything but a type of tiredness that was set deep in someone’s bones. 

You could say no, go off on your own. You’d make it a little while longer but the loneliness would get to you and eventually you’d slip up. Be torn apart or turned. 

Besides, you weren’t ready to leave them, leave him. Not yet. 

“Yeah, maybe.”

One Year Later

“Morning.”

You groaned at the sound of Joel’s voice, rolling over and covering your head with a pillow. He laughed and you could feel it reverberate through your back where his chest was resting on you. 

“Come on, darling. It’s noon, you have to take care of the sheep today.” 

You weren’t exactly verbal when you’re woken up abruptly. So you just grumbled-most likely something incredibly rude-under your breath and curled up into a ball.

Joel chuckled again, his arms wrapped around your waist and rolled you over. He dragged you out of the warmth of the blankets and directly back into the sunlit room. “Joel,” you groaned. “Five more minutes.”

“Nope.” He stood up, you still slightly in his arms. He half carried and half dragged you out of bed. You held onto the blankets and kept your eyes closed as long as you could. But when your feet touched the cool wood you conceded that your day had started. Whether you wanted it to or not. “Ugh, you’re a real piece of work. You know that?”

Joel let out a surprised scoff as you walked past him into the bathroom. You could hear him muttering under his breath about who was really the piece of work in this home. But he didn’t say anything to you, just joined you at the sink to brush his teeth.

Sometimes the normalcy was nice. You’d wake up and most days Joel was there next to you. Or he was making you both breakfast, or occasionally a note left next to a plate of food telling you he was out on patrol. 

You spent most of your time together, sharing the big old house while Ellie slept in the converted shed out back. But days like today, where he tried to joke with you while he brushed his teeth but his voice was too thick with sleep and you couldn’t understand his accent, they made you ache. 

Your heart would pulse painfully and you’d have to look away from him. You shared the same bed, lived in the same house. But you didn’t mean anything to him. You were just an old friend there to keep him warm at night. 

You’re pretty sure you’d both been traveling together for so long that it was habit and necessity that kept you together more than anything. You wished, yearned for more from him, but you knew he could never give it to you. You knew it was an impossible ask. 

Which made staying with him start to feel more suffocating. You feel like another part of his routine. Something akin to brushing his teeth rather than genuinely wanting you around, a chore. And you couldn’t handle that feeling anymore. 

You were drowning in the comfort of Jackson. But you were too much of a coward to ever fully leave him. Too hopeful to let go of that one fleeting feeling that maybe one day you could be more to him.

Joel smiled at you as you made your way downstairs. “I got your lunch, you should probably head out now. You’re already late.”

You took the bag from him, thanking him and left for the sheep. And that night when your shift was over you’d look over at Joel’s house. You’d see him strumming lightly on his guitar as he waited for you and you’d slip out of Jackson’s walls. Unwilling to face another night of heartache that made you feel so ridiculous. 

2 Years Later

“Y/N in here? Jesse’s looking for her.”

Joel glanced up from his guitar, he had been tuning it when Ellie’s head popped over his porch rail. “No, haven’t seen her in a couple days.”

He’d known being in Jackson was too much for you. Sometimes when he was getting a drink at the bar he could feel his skin crawling with how many people were surrounding him. His instinct to always be on guard, always be alert, was not easily lost after so many years. 

There was the siren’s call of peace here in this town, but he still had to patrol. Still had you, Ellie, and himself to look out for. He could never afford to let himself fully settle into the calm reprieve of Jackson. It would end up screwing him over only when he was outside the safety of the walls. 

So he sat, always a curling, burning feeling in his stomach as he tried to untense his shoulders. Join his brother for a ‘family’ dinner. Plaster on as friendly a grimace as he could when his neighbors would wave in the morning. 

You were not the same. You didn’t bother with pretending to be happy for Ellie’s comfort. You patrolled near constantly, outside the walls more than you were in. Which set him even more on edge. You’d be gone for days at a time before mysteriously appearing in his bed one morning. 

You’d smile then, as genuine a smile you could manage. Every time he’d ask where you’d gone and you would tell him you needed some air. He never asked what you did on the outside, where the bruises came from or what you’d done to earn them. 

You would eat breakfast, listen to him strum on his guitar and in a few more days disappear again. He thinks one of these days, now that Ellie’s grown, he might just disappear alongside you. Ellie sighed, “What’s Jesse want with her?” Joel asked. 

“He was gonna have her patrol with him today,” she had a shit-eating grin on her face as she propped her head in her hand. “I think he’s got a crush on her.”

Joel barked out a laugh, imagining Jesse pining after someone as disinterested as you. He’s sure he just admires you like he admires Joel. He looks up to you, probably just presents differently. “I’d love to see him try something,” he said through laughter.

Ellie shook her head, walking up the stairs and sitting next to him. “I’m pretty sure he’s terrified of her.”

He shook his head, “Rough combo.” Poor kid probably didn’t realize you weren’t mean, you just had a real bad resting face. “Ya know, I gotta head out soon. I can see if I can find her.”

Ellie perked up, crossing her legs as she leaned back in the rocking chair. “Would you?”

“Sure,” Joel went to place his guitar down but Ellie stopped him. 

“What’re you working on?”

“Oh,” he glanced at the instrument and shrugged. He wasn’t sure, really. He’d had to step back from patrolling as much as he used to. The cold was fucking with his back and knees. Made it harder for him to be as fast as he should be. You liked to tease him about it, call him an old man, but he caught you rubbing your shoulder every time it was about to rain. 

But without the ability to go on rides or kill infected, he was beginning to feel restless again. An uncomfortable thrumming under his skin that screamed at him to move, do something. So he screwed around with the guitar, tried to sing something, but nothing came out. 

He passed it over to Ellie, she immediately propped it on her lap, strumming something soft. “Nothing really, just needed something to do.” He sat with her a little while longer, giving her pointers as she went over some songs she’d been writing. 

He groaned as he got off the old rocking chair, saying goodbye to Ellie and heading to the stables. He was sure you were nearby, somewhere in a three mile perimeter of town. You’d been gone about four days, usually you’d be coming back by now. 

Tommy was waiting for him as he got his horse. “Partnering up today.”

“Alright,” Joel rode up to the barred gate of Jackson, waiting for the doors to open. “Ellie wanted me to look for Y/N while we’re out here.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed as he glanced at him. “She still gone?”

Joel hummed an affirmative, brushing the hair out of his eyes in irritation. You’d have to cut it again, it had gotten too damn long. He felt like one of the stupid teenage boys in town, always blowing his damn hair out of his face. 

“Where’d ya wanna head first?”

“She likes lurking around that old ski resort. We’ll see if she’s there first. If not, I’m sure she’ll pop up soon.” 

They rode in silence for a little while before Tommy sighed. Clearly growing bored with the lack of conversation. Joel let his brother suffer, watching in amusement as he shifted back and forth in his saddle and tried to think of what to say. 

He finally broke, showing Tommy some mercy. “Jesus, boy, spit it out.”

“It’s just,” Tommy paused, slowing down his mare to match Joel’s slow pace. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“Her being out her on her own all the time. I mean, if Maria left as often as Y/N does I’d be losing my mind.”

“Well,” Joel sighed, “I’m a lot tougher than you are.”

Tommy scoffed, glaring at him. “Whatever smartass, I wasn’t screwing around, I want to know.”

“Fine. Don’t know why you’re so damn interested.” Joel shrugged, thinking about it before finally answering. “Yeah, I guess it bothers me, a little. I mean, I’ve known her a long time. I know she can handle herself, I’m not really worried about her dying or nothing. I’m more worried about her just deciding she wants to be gone for good and leaving.”

Tommy was quiet for a bit, leaving Joel uncomfortable. The answer wasn’t very deep. It didn’t share a lot, but it left him feeling a particular shade of vulnerable that had him shifting around. He rolled his shoulders back, focusing on the feeling of snow nipping at his cheeks rather than his younger brother’s nosy stare. 

“I woudln’t worry about that.”

“Yeah,” Joel’s voice was curt, snappier than usual. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I don’t fucking know why, but she likes you. Likes Ellie, she might not love Jackson, but she wouldn’t just leave you guys.”

“Since when the hell are you an expert?”

Tommy smirked, “Since I got married.” Joel rolled his eyes, his brother had gotten entirely too smug when he married Maria. Suddenly, being married, made him an expert in anything and everything. He certaintly didn’t know a damn thing about Joel’s love life. 

Or lack thereof. 

Because you’d never talked about what you were, if you even were anything. That’s probably why it set him on edge so much when you left. You weren’t his to love or keep-honestly he wasn’t sure he was capable of that type of love anymore. 

You were friends. Allies more than anything, which was arguably more important in this world. There was nothing to tie you to him or encourage you to stay. 

He wasn’t deluded enough to believe you’d stay for Ellie. She was pretty much an adult now, and you’d never been a parent before. You didn’t know what the pain of losing a child was, she wasn’t as important to you as she was to him. 

He had no damn idea what had kept you here for so long. But he knew you were getting restless and he didn’t know how to help. 

They made it to the ski lodge and immediately leapt off their horses. There were screams coming from inside, screams that sounded a lot like yours. Joel ran for the doors, finger already on the trigger when the doors blew open. 

You looked up at him in surprise, “Joel! What’re you doing out here?” He drew back, stopping himself from slamming into you. 

His eyes scanned your form, you were covered head to toe in gore. The bandanna pushing your hair back had been a light blue, but now it was completely dyed red. Your jacket was in shreds. But you were still smiling up at him, then Tommy. 

“Jesus H Christ woman,” Tommy muttered behind him. 

You looked down at yourself, “Oh, yeah.” You sighed and once again were staring at Joel. “Fucking clickers, weren’t here before.”

“Are you alright? Were you bit?”

You waved off Joel’s concern like he was being dramatic. Like you weren’t standing before him covered head to toe in guts. “I’m fine.”

“Dammit,” you jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. He was getting a little louder, voice a little deeper as his frustration grew. He hated when you were this flippant about basic safety. “I told you to stop coming out so much, that we’d been-”

“Seeing more hordes. I know, sorry Joel, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’ll,” you trailed off, your eyes darting around before reluctantly landing back on his. “I promise I’ll stop leaving.”

Joel glanced behind himself, but Tommy had wandered back over to the horses. He was the opposite of subtle as he whistled, clearly giving you as much privacy as he could. Joel turned back towards you and took a step closer. 

“I’m not telling you to stop coming out here completely. I don’t want to take that from you.”

You shook your head, stepping closer as you shivered. Joel figured your jacket was in tatters and you were probably freezing your ass off. He took off one of his own coats and draped it over you. “I’m being reckless, risking infecting you and Ellie by coming out so much. Besides, it’s starting to get a little lonely.”

“Well,” Joel gave you a brief smile, “maybe one of these days you should wake me up when you slip away. I’ll come out here with you.”

You grinned, “Think you’d be able to keep up, old man?”

He scoffed, slinging an arm over your shoulder and leading you back to his horse. “Could you?”

You laughed, “With you? Probably not.” He was just about to join you up on Sunny when all three of you heard a strange noise coming up towards the lifts. You had cleared out the resort. So, what could it be?

You hopped off Sunny quickly, pulling out one of your guns and following Tommy and Joel as they went back through the clicker infested hellhole you’d just cleared. The noises got louder, it sounded a lot like feet pounding up the mountain. 

You made it outside, near the resort's old supply sheds. You were checking out the area, double checking you didn’t miss any infected. You were about to turn back around when you heard a scream. 

You ran towards the source of the noise, watching as a woman was crushed under a swarming body of infested. The only thing separating her from them was a flimsy metal gate. Tommy rushed forward before either you or Joel could stop him. Grabbing her and dragging her out from the bodies. 

“Fuck!”

“Tommy!”

Both of you wanted to scream at him. That was such an unbelievably stupid thing to do. She’d had at least fifty infected on top of her, there’s no way she wasn’t bit. But beyond that she was a stranger, you had no idea if she was a piece of shit that would lead raiders right back to Jackson or not. 

You didn’t have time to scold him, though, the swarm was screaming, racing towards you all. You ran back into the resort, heart racing as you slammed the doors to the lift closed behind you. “Tommy!” Joel called out, “Help me move this!”

They worked on wheeling a broke down lift towards an open window. You turned towards the hulking woman, “Got a gun?”

She nodded and you tossed her some ammo, “Good. Don’t fucking miss.” You raced throughout the station, trying to keep infected off Tommy and Joel while they moved the lift. But there was only so much you could do. Your rifle had jammed and you had used most of your supplies taking the clickers out earlier. 

And these bastards were fast, they seemed faster than normal. Maybe the cold irritated them or something. 

You screamed, taken off your feet as a runner threw itself at you. You rolled over, shoving your gun in its mouth and pulling the trigger. Brains splattered onto your face and before you could even roll it off of you there was another one leaping at you. 

Before it could sink its teeth in your neck there was the warm feeling of blood trailing down your chest. Joel stood over you, machete buried in the infected’s back as he yanked you to your feet. He didn’t let you walk, grabbing you and practically sending you flying towards Tommy. 

You scrambled up the lift and through the window, running towards the horses and mounting Sunny. You grabbed Tommy’s mare and rode the horses back to the open window. You watched the others spill out, keeping an eye out for any more infected and letting Joel hop up in front of you. 

Tommy and the woman shared a horse as she screamed out instructions to head towards the old mansion at the top of the mountain. You were too busy keeping infected away from your group to fully realize where you were going until it was too late. 

You were already through the gates of the mansion, infected being set on fire behind you when you grasped the situation at hand. 

You’d just wandered into some stranger’s camp, nearly completely empty on ammo, battered and tired. You didn’t know who she was or who her people were. Joel and Tommy seemed to be realizing that too, each of them tensing up as they got off the horses. 

“Thanks for the help back there. I’m Abby.”

Joel offered you a hand down, you hopped off Sunny and glanced around the garage. You were definitely fucking outnumbered and they had way more ammo than you. 

You hid slightly behind Joel, taking in the amount of people and trying to gauge how many guns were in the garage. Your eye snagged on a lone shotgun on a workstation and the bullets surrounding it. 

“I’m Tommy, this is my brother Joel…” Tommy’s voice trailed off before he could introduce you. Instantly everyone in the room had turned to stare at Joel, and every single one of them looked hostile. Like he’d punched each of them in the face at one point. 

And honestly with the amount of people he’s screwed over you wouldn’t be surprised. Still, this was not promising. 

Joel tensed up in front of you, nudging you slightly behind Sunny. You ducked behind her, hoping to go unnoticed by the rest of them and praying that Sunny didn’t buck out at you. 

Abby sucked on her teeth. She stared at Joel for a long minute before nodding her head towards the door and heading up the stairs. “Joel,” you whispered.

He shook his head, subtly waving you back into place as he was forced to follow the others up the stairs. You watched them herd him and Tommy out, one of the men in the back checked his ammo was loaded and you felt your throat seize in panic. 

Shit shitshitshitshitshit

Okay, this turned into a clusterfuck so insanely fast. You waited until every set of footsteps was a distant echo to move out from behind the horses. You were nearly out the door when you double backed for the shotgun. 

You heard a shout from upstairs, your head whipping towards the open door. You raced up the stairs, “Tommy!” It was Joel shouting, panic lacing his voice. 

You can never say what happened next exactly. You made it up the stairs, heard the sound of a shotgun being cocked and you’d never run that fast in your life. 

The door to the room was open, all you could see was Abby with a gun in hand, pointing it towards Joel. Your finger was on the trigger before you could even aim properly. The shot missed, hitting the wall behind her, grazing her back slightly. 

But it caused enough of a distraction, Joel wrenched the gun from her grasp, using the butt of it to knock her out. You shot at one of the men pinning Tommy down, it caught him in the side and he dropped to the ground. Crimson pooling out around him. 

The room went quiet, each of them staring at their dead comrade. “You cunt,” the woman leapt at you, knife raised in the air. You didn’t notice her protruding stomach until you had pulled the trigger. Her legs flew out from under her, nearly completely blown off from the shotgun blast. 

There was a primal sound of pain. One you’d heard many times in your life. It came from two directions, the pregnant woman bleeding out on the ground and the man who was now  flying at you. 

He knocked you to the ground. You wrestled for control of the shotgun, his hips pinning your pelvis painfully to the floor. You groaned out in pain and panic, shoving all your weight into the gun, bringing it up to catch him in the jaw. His head knocked to the side and you shoved him off of you. 

Shots were firing all around you, different screams and insults flying past your head. You were tuning in and out, ears ringing as you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck. You pulled until it snapped. When you were done you swiped his pistol from his holster, stepping over the twitching woman below you. 

There were only three people left when you walked back into the room, Tommy and Joel disposed of them quickly while you grabbed some rope and tied up Abby. She was still knocked out, a bad bruise forming on her head. You can imagine her day was going to get a lot worse when she woke up and saw the carnage around her. 

It was a slaughter, each of her friend’s lay brutally destroyed at her feet. 

But, it was their own damn fault. They shouldn’t have tried and fucked with you all. 

“Are you okay?” It was your turn to fuss over Joel. He had clearly been their target. It had to have been someone you’d screwed over, Joel had screwed over. But the list was too long and you’d never seen this woman before. 

Joel nodded, but there was blood soaking through his jacket. You ignored his protests, ripping the jacket off and inspecting the wound. It wasn’t anything too bad, a bullet must have just skimmed his bicep. You wrapped it up pretty quickly, then you let your head fall to his chest. 

He chuckled slightly, his hand coming behind you to rest on your back. “You okay?”

“I was scared.”

Your voice was quiet, quiet enough that you almost hoped he had missed your small confession. “What?”

His hand had stilled before it moved up your back and lightly cupped your neck. He tilted your head back so you had to look at him, had to make eye contact. “I was scared.” You huffed out, nearly ashamed at presenting yourself like this to him. 

You didn’t get scared, the entire time you’ve known him you’ve each been fighting for your lives. This wasn’t anything new. But something about this really got to you. It felt more final this time. “They were after you, Joel. Had a gun pointed to your head.”

“I always have a gun pointed at my head, darling. Comes with the territory.” You rolled your eyes and stepped away from him, ignoring the way his hand lingered on your cheek for a moment before it dropped to his side. 

The door behind you all flew open and all three guns were pointed at the intruder. Ellie raised her hands and stumbled back in shock at the sight of the dead bodies around you all. “Holy shit. What the fuck happened?”

You sighed and lowered your gun, Tommy and Joel doing the same. “Ellie, head back to Dina,” you instructed. You were going to have to get some information from Abby, you were sure Joel didn’t want her to see the methods about to be used. 

Ellie opened her mouth to argue but Joel cut her off. “Do as she says, Ellie. Head back to the others and say everything’s fine and that we’ll be back soon.”

She seemed like she wanted to stay, desperately. Instead she conceded and closed the door behind her as she left. You, Joel, and Tommy each shared a look before you got to work. 

Abby was tied up in a chair, you’d wrapped her up more than you would have with anyone else, mainly because her biceps were the size of your head. 

When she finally woke up, she immediately started screaming. You’d moved the bodies of her friends, propping them up in front of her so they were the first thing she saw when she woke up. 

Tommy had left for Jackson, made sure no one would suspect why you and Joel were gone for so long. Now you were sitting on a table behind Abby while Joel started. “What are you doing here?”

“Fuck you,” she spat. 

Joel sighed and tried again, “Does anyone else know you’re here?”

Same response. It happened a few more times, she was unphased by anything Joel did to her. Just telling him to fuck off more times than you could count. You got sick of it after a while. 

You hadn’t had to torture anyone in a couple years, you were hoping to just get this over with as quickly as possible. You stood up and Joel let go of Abby’s chair, backing away from her. 

“My partner,” you started, “prefers brute force to get the answers he wants. Me,” you stood in front of Abby and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m a little more creative.”

You dug the knife into her skin, peeling back a layer or two of epidermis and ignoring the way she screamed. Twenty years ago, you might have felt guilty for this. Now, she’d tried to hurt Joel, she’d brought this on herself. 

Five pulled nails and a lot of skin later she finally squealed. No one knew they were out here. They were stationed in Seattle and wouldn’t come looking. Joel had killed her father, the doctor from the hospital, and she wanted revenge. 

You rolled your eyes, pointing out the hypocrisy of her actions. How many fathers had she killed on her way here to get to Joel. How many lives had she taken to protect someone she loved. When she tried to argue you slit her throat and dragged the bodies to be put in the pile of burned infested. 

“Damn.” You sat behind Joel on Sunny, watching the bodies go up in flames. He turned her around, heading back towards Jackson. “What a way to start the day.”

The bed was empty when Joel woke up. He felt surprised, usually you gave him a few days before you left again. But before he could linger on the thought for too long the door to the bedroom was opening and you were walking in. Your back was to him, you were carrying something in your hands. 

When you turned around you frowned when you saw him already waiting for you. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“What are you doing?”

You swatted him away when he stood and tried to help you carry the tray in the room. You put it on the nightstand and shoved him back in bed. He could have resisted, pushed against you, but he let himself fall as he chuckled at the determined look on your face. 

You hummed and shrugged your shoulders, placing the tray in his lap. “Thought I’d bring you breakfast.” He glanced down, a plate with a stack of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Most importantly; coffee. 

“Where the hell’d you get all this?” You didn’t answer, just had a mischievous little smirk on your face while you tidied up the room. Joel caught your wrist as you passed him, he tugged you into bed next to him, careful not to spill the tray. “Come on, help me out with all this. Can’t eat it all on my own.”

He could, and would do so eagerly. But it had been a while since he’d eaten breakfast without you rushing out the door. And for once, he was feeling domestic without the crushing weight of guilt turning the taste of your pancakes bitter in his mouth. He wanted to enjoy this, however long it lasted. 

You didn’t bother arguing, picking off some of his food while you both sat in contented silence. Eventually you broke it, sitting at the end of the bed so you could face him while he sipped on his coffee. 

Lord, he had missed the taste of caffeine. 

“Where are you working today?”

“Promised Bob I’d help him out with shoeing the horses today. You?”

“Helping Maria with fixing up that new classroom in school.”

“You're not leaving? You've been hangin’ around here a lot.”

He knew instantly he shouldn’t have opened his mouth. 

What once had been easy silence instantly turned tense. The warm sun that had filtered through the blinds was right in his eyes and causing a headache. The sheets were scratchy and that blank look on your face was oppressive. 

Your easygoing smile, one he hadn’t seen in a long time, dropped from your face and you shifted uncomfortably on top of the comforter. “Yeah, guess you're right.”

“Didn’t mean it like-”

You stood up, patting his leg with an awkward stiltedness and moved to the closet. “I should head out, promised Maria we’d get it done by end of day.” 

He knew what he said had been wrong, but he wasn’t completely sure what about it was so wrong. He watched you leave without another word and sighed to himself, getting out of bed and forcing himself from the comfort of the house. 

He’d only had a moment, one singular moment, where he’d finally been able to relax for once. And he didn’t feel restless, or anxious, or guilty about it. He’d felt at ease, a feeling so foreign it was halfway through the day before he’d finally been able to identify it. 

He was in the middle of cleaning Sunny’s hoof and he’d nearly gotten kicked in the face with his distraction. 

But he didn’t have any sort of epiphany over what could have possibly upset you so much. 

A normal person, not you apparently, would be completely unbothered by Joel’s question. Because that’s all it was. A question, a simple, understandable, inquiry about why someone as flighty as you had been in one place for so long. 

Still it stung. He’d said with a tone like ‘Why the hell are you still in my house?’ And in a crazy, uber-paranoid-lady way, it was confirmation of what you were to him. You were a daily task, necessity, and required comfort, but you were not something permanent. And you’d deluded yourself into believing you were something more. Your own fault, not something to place on Joel’s shoulders. 

Still, the bitter taste of rejection was a hard one to get off the tongue. 

“God, I’m insane.”

“What was that?”

You glanced up at Maria, momentarily having forgotten you weren’t alone. “Um, nothing, sorry.” You let yourself get lost in the repetitive motion of painting the walls of the classroom. Using old stencils they’d found or created to do a row of ABC’s and numbers along the perimeter of the wall. 

How is this what you turned into? 

You’d gone from a deadbeat smuggler who’d kill without a second thought to someone painting an elementary classroom worrying about boys. 

Well, men, you supposed. Seemed unfair to put Joel in the same category as someone like Jesse. 

Even though you were sure that Jesse would never make you feel like a chore instead of a person. 

Annnnnd… new low reached, considering Jesse as a viable option for dating. Damn, you needed a hobby or something. 

Around noon Tommy stopped by, he had sandwiches from Seth and you didn’t want to think about the lengths he’d gone through to get them from the cantankerous old asshole. 

“So,” there was a certain tone of voice Tommy would get when he was about to meddle in someone’s business. You stopped midchew to stare at him in suspicion while he smirked. Maria eyed her husband and simply sighed, resigned to let him interrogate you. “You and Joel.”

You huffed, swallowing the rest of your food and throwing the sandwich down on the plate next to you. “This was a bribe wasn’t it?”

He laughed, “Yep.” 

It was interesting to you how different Joel and Tommy were. Joel’s accent was gruff, commanding, most times hard to understand. Especially when he was pissed off. Tommy had a lightness to him the both of you lacked. You assumed it came from Jackson, he’d been here a lot longer than either of you. And he’d also found Maria. 

He also didn’t know how to butt out. A skill Joel, thankfully, understood. “Just curious about you two. You know, Joel’s seemed a lot happier in Jackson now that you’ve been around longer than a week.”

“Well, I think he’s getting a little sick of me.”

Tommy frowned, “Why’s that?”

You shrugged, taking another bite before answering. “I don’t know, just something he said this morning.”

“What’d he say?”

“Damn, Tommy, I can’t remember. It was how he said it, I guess.” You huffed and glared at him, “Look we’re not your new version of the bachelor, alright. Butt out.”

Maria opened her mouth, probably to scold you for being a bitch. Tommy held up a hand and shook his head. “Alright, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“That’s it?” You asked, watching as he finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“Yep,” he leaned over to kiss Maria on the cheek and gave you a strong pat on the back. “That’s it. Message received, I’ll just butt out now.”

Both you and Maria watched him go, a suspicious look on both of your faces as he went. Tommy never gave up that easy, ever. “You know he’s up to something, right?”

You glanced over at Maria, sighing as you picked up your paintbrush again. “I know.”

The answer to what exactly he’d been planning came three days later. 

Despite yourself and your feelings of rejection, you’d stayed in Jackson. You’d been paranoid since the run in with Abby and her people. It was dangerous for Joel to stay in one place, word would spread and old enemies would know where to find him. 

That thought plagued you every time you glanced at the door out of Jackson. If something happened while you were gone and pouting over something petty, you’d never forgive yourself. 

But you did put some distance between you and Joel. Staying in the guest room instead of his, not bringing him breakfast like some wife from the fifties. You’d put up boundaries where there weren’t any before, determined not to be used as some sort of daily comfort. 

And if Joel had anything against these new unsaid rules, he didn’t react. Which kind of pissed you off more. Trust, if there was a therapist you would see one. You’re aware your train of thinking isn’t what most would consider healthy. 

But there isn’t, so you just force yourself to push it down everyday and keep going. Like you always have. It wasn’t until you got here that rejections or emotions meant anything to you. This place was making you too damn soft. 

Tommy dropped by one night and invited both you and Joel over to his for dinner and Joel had accepted before you could say no. 

There wasn’t much you could bring over, you couldn’t cook and didn’t feel like burning down the kitchen trying. So you stole some flowers from the garden of the mean old lady that lived next to you while Joel kept watch. 

Maria and Tommy’s house wasn’t too far from you and Joel, but god, walking next to him you’d think they lived a mile away. 

“You know, foods gonna be gone by the time we get there.”

Joel huffed out a short laugh. “We got time. Feel like you’re always tryna rush off lately.” You didn’t have an answer for him, not one that wouldn’t reveal why you didn’t want to be alone with him. So you just shrugged. 

You could feel him staring at you, eyes drilling holes in the back of your head, but you refused to say anything. “How’s the guest room?”

The question caught you off guard, you stumbled over your own feet for a second before turning around to face him. “Uh, fine. Bed’s smaller, I guess. But I don’t have a giant hogging the sheets,” you attempted to smile at him. But he didn’t seem to find anything funny about your response. 

His brows were furrowed, lips set in a pissy sort of line. You finally caught on to the undertones of anger in his voice. The special sort of gruffness that only comes out when he’s pissed off. 

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Just wondering.” And that was it. He brushed past where you’d stopped walking to face him. His shoulder clipping you as he did and was walking off to Tommy’s, leaving you behind. 

You scoffed at the attitude. Not entirely sure what you’d done to deserve it and followed after him. The both of you finished the walk in angered silence, neither one of you aware why the other was so angry. You just were. 

When Tommy opened the door the smile on his face quickly turned into a smirk. “There you two are. Trouble in paradise?”

You shoved the flowers into his chest and stormed past him. “For Maria.”

You heard Joel mutter the same thing you’d told Tommy a few days ago. “Butt out.”

Maria was in the kitchen, finishing off whatever meat she’d decided to cook for you all tonight. You’d gotten so used to the QZ’s strange square ration bars, sometimes you struggled  actually identifying real food. 

You helped her set the table, ignoring the stares of both men on your back and were about to sit down… When Tommy literally dove under you to force you to sit next to Joel. 

You glared at him while you circled the table, throwing yourself down into the chair and sighing at the self-satisfied look on his face. “Your brother’s insufferable.”

Joel grumbled but didn’t say anything. So you were getting the silent treatment now. Really? 

Fucking child. 

“Alright, dinner is served.” Maria placed the roast on the table and took a seat beside Tommy, smiling at you all. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care how tense it was on your and Joel’s side. 

“Thank you, Maria.”

You forced a smile, not one to let Joel be the only one with manners. “Yes, thank you, Maria.” She hummed, carving into the roast and taking a slice for herself and Tommy. You reached for the knife and fork but Joel beat you to it. 

He cut off a portion and dropped it down on your plate, the mash potatoes spreading slightly at the impact. You sighed, muttering a belligerent thank you and took a bite. 

Couldn’t help himself could he? Always the Texan gentleman. 

It was infuriating. 

For a few minutes there was only the sound of metal scraping porcelain. And you felt bad, honestly, Maria and Tommy invited you both over for a nice dinner and you were pouting like toddlers. 

You weren’t even sure why you were upset with each other!

Obviously, you were still stinging from Joel’s use of your “relationship.” But you had no clue what had crawled up his ass and died. “Can you pass the bread?”

You looked up from your plate, staring at the side of Joel’s head. He continued to shovel food in his face. “Joel?” Nothing, not even a twitch. 

You reached across from him, purposefully shoving your arm in front of him so he couldn’t eat the bite on his fork and grabbed the bread basket. “Ain’t got manners, now?” He growled at you, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Says you,” you hissed back. This was devolving into childish anger so quickly. And you didn’t know why! 

God, what was his problem?

“So,” Tommy started and you were startled out of your glaring match with Joel. “Y/N, you know Bob?”

You slowly turned away from Joel and nodded. “Yeah, the horse guy.”

“Yeah, he’s been asking about you.” Tommy took another bite of food and shrugged, “Told him you were free this Saturday.”

You ignored Joel’s fork clanking loudly against his plate and shook your head. “No I’m not. I’m patrolling with Joel.”

Tommy waved you off, “Nah, don’t worry about it. You need to get out more anyway. Socialize some.”

“Tommy,” Joel started. His voice was low, an unspoken warning lacing it. “You need to stop meddling.”

“What? You’ve got a problem with a little date, Joel?”

You glanced between the two, hidden in their stares was a secret language only the brothers were privy to. There was a tense silence before Joel was picking his fork back up and eating, refusing to make eye contact with anyone at the table. 

“Not interested, Tommy. Thanks though.” It would feel wrong going on some blind date like you weren’t currently pining over the man you lived with. Besides, you were past the period of life where you wanted to ‘date.’ About one apocalypse past it. 

“Too bad, you’re going.” You opened your mouth to argue but both Tommy and Maria were leveling you with glares that allowed no room for negotiation. Since when did Maria join him in these ridiculous schemes?

“We’re having our harvest festival this weekend,” Maria stated. “Bob will accompany you.”

The rest of dinner was spent with Tommy and Maria blabbering away while you and Joel fumed in your seats. You didn’t know his reason but you were pretty pissed off you were being forced into a date. 

One, you were planning on skipping the stupid fucking harvest thing. It was a waste of resources and you didn’t understand why they clung to old traditions so desperately. 

Two, you didn’t want to go on a date. The only man you wanted to be with was sitting next to you and currently taking his anger out on a piece of bread. 

You let your mind fade into the background. Your eyes tracked the movements of Joel’s hands while he ate, no longer hearing Tommy and Maria. Until you blinked and dinner was over and Joel was waiting for you by the door. 

You nearly jumped at how loudly Joel slammed the door closed. You toed your boots off, watching him throw his jacket on the kitchen chair and reach for the bottle of whiskey on the counter. He ignored you, heading up the stairs and into his office. 

You took in a deep breath, trying to shake off the funk from the last couple of days. Slowly you made your way up the stairs, knocking on the doorframe to his office. 

He was just sitting in his chair, staring at the guitar on his desk. There was a glass of amber liquor in his hand, but he wasn’t making any moves to drink more. “Wanna talk?”

“‘Bout what?” He placed the glass on the table and picked up the new strings for his guitar. 

“I don’t know,” you walked in and sat down on the stool next to him. “You’ve seemed off since we left for Tommy’s.” 

His finger drummed across the denim of his jeans. He stared through the window, the lights of Jackson casting a warm glow over his face. 

If you tilted your head just right it softened him. The scars faded, the only wrinkles you could see were smile lines and you could see a shadow of the man he once was. The father, brother, contractor, someone long lost to the cruelties of time and the world outside these walls. 

“A date,” he scoffed. “My brother never knows when to stop, does he?” You didn’t bother answering. You know he wasn’t talking to you, just thinking out loud. 

You propped your elbow on his desk, resting your head while you waited for him to collect his thoughts. He let out a long sigh, his eyes on the guitar while he addressed you. 

“You drive me insane, you know that?”

“I’m aware.”

He cracked, his lips lifting slightly at the corners. Barely a smile, but it was better than nothing. “I think I’ve got you figured out. Think I finally understand how this,” he gestures between the two of you, “works. Then you disappear, or bring me breakfast, or you suddenly leave and start sleeping in another bed and I’m lost all over again.”

You shifted in your seat, fiddling with your nails, trying to figure out what he meant. If either of you were confused, it was you. “What’re you talking ‘bout, Joel?”

He sighed and finally looked at you, “Talkin’ about us. I’m talking about how infuriating you are.”

Your brows furrowed, scoffing slightly at the tone of his voice. He was still angry, for no damn reason. You stood up, ready to leave, when his hand wrapped around your wrist. “Didn’t say I was done, sweetheart.”

You gasped when he tugged you down. You landed in his lap, his legs spreading to accommodate you. “Joel what’re you doing?”

“Something I’ve been putting off for too damn long.”

Fireworks don’t go off somewhere in the distance and the world doesn’t stop. But your heart races and your body tingles when you taste the whiskey on his lips. You become hyper aware of each individual strand when his hand comes up to bury itself in your hair. 

And when your lips part to let him in you swear you’ve never felt like this before. Your body is working like you’re running from something, getting ready to fight something off, but it’s the first time in a while your mind is completely calm. 

You shift, your legs wrapping around his waist as a blanket of calm drapes itself over you. It rushes through you like a raging river, shutting everything unnecessary down. 

You don’t worry if you’re too out of practice, not having kissed anyone in a long while. You don’t think about if you're too stiff on his lap. You run your hands over his chest, squeezing the muscles of his arms and then letting them delve into his hair. 

At a certain point, you’ll have to breathe. You’ll have to talk about what this means for the two of you. But for right now you’re content, at ease, happy to just live the rest of your days in this moment. 

Kissing Joel Miller like there’s nothing outside these walls, no other purpose but to be with him.

part two

end. — I do not own the characters or the game The Last Of Us, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

TAGLIST: @chrysanthemum-00 @marimarvelfan