xcaptainhannax

[xcaptainhannax]

just learned people associate em dashes with chat gpt. Girl fuck you. You can pry em dashes from my cold dead hands. One of us is gonna have to stop using em— and it’s not gonna be me!

[xcaptainhannax]

people who write fics. how do you feel about comments on super old ones you wrote like 2+ years ago

[xcaptainhannax]

Where It’s Warm (joel miller x reader)

Plot: Jackson’s peaceful days are still new to Joel Miller, but between coffee in bed, shared walks through snow-covered streets, and Ellie crashing dinners like she belongs (because she does), he starts to realize that happiness didn’t die with the old world.

Warnings: a lot of fluff

A/N: i'm still writing slowly the series with joel, just thinking of a general plot but i'm giving you this while you wait. btw the last of us is taking over my entire life yet AGAIN, joel miller the man u are

Mornings in Jackson were cold.

That kind of see-your-breath-inside cold that made the walls creak and your knees ache. Joel was already up, already dressed, boots laced tight, coat zipped halfway. He always woke before you, not because he liked mornings (he didn’t), but because he liked the part where he brought you coffee.

The first time he did it, he told himself it was just polite.

The twentieth time, he stopped lying to himself.

He stood in the doorway with a chipped mug in his hands and watched you blink awake. Hair a mess. Eyes still soft with sleep. Wrapped up in his quilt like you belonged there, because you did.

“You gonna sleep all day?” he asked, but his voice was gentle.

You stretched, made a noise like a cat, and smiled at him. “It’s cold.”

He held out the mug. “Made you coffee.”

That got you sitting up, still wrapped in the quilt like some ridiculous blanket creature. You looked at him like he’d invented warmth itself.

“You’re spoiling me.”

He grunted, rubbing the back of his neck. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He didn’t say: I like taking care of you. He didn’t need to.

You walked to the stables together, your mittened hand tucked in his. It still surprised him sometimes; how easily your fingers found his. How natural it felt.

He wasn’t a hand-holder. Never had been.

But you weren’t most people.

You talked as you walked; rambling about something you read, something Ellie said yesterday that made you snort-laugh. Joel listened, nodding sometimes, giving little hmm’s. He wasn’t much for chatter, but he liked hearing your voice. It filled the empty parts.

“You’re quiet today,” you said, bumping his arm.

He glanced at you. “I’m listenin’. You’ve got a nice voice.”

You blinked, surprised. He saw the flush in your cheeks before you buried your face in your scarf.

Worth saying, then.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the stables, Ellie was already there; bundled up, trying to feed one of the newer horses and losing that battle completely.

She looked up. “Hey, lovebirds. Took you long enough.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “We’re not-” He paused. Looked at you. You were laughing.

“…nevermind.”

Ellie smirked. “Sure. Keep tellin’ yourselves that.”

You joined Ellie by the stalls while Joel lifted hay bales like they were made of feathers. He caught pieces of your conversation; you teasing Ellie about her hat, her calling you “gross” in the most affectionate tone possible, the way you tried to sneak her a second apple for the horse when no one was looking.

Joel stood there for a second, leaning on the stall, watching the two of you.

He’d never imagined this life for himself.

Never imagined he’d have a girl in his house and a kid who needed him and this strange, slow peace that crept in when he wasn’t looking. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it. He didn’t always think he did.

But he had it.

He had you.

Later that day, you and Joel sat on the porch, sharing a blanket, watching the town. He liked sitting beside you like that. Close, quiet, simple.

“This is nice,” you said.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You leaned against him, and he let out a soft breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“You warm enough?” he asked.

“With you? Always.”

That one hit him right in the ribs.

He turned and kissed your forehead, slow and careful. He could still remember the first time he let himself do that; the way you leaned into it without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He was still learning how to be soft.

You made it easy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, Ellie showed up halfway through dinner at Tommy’s.

She plopped down next to you, already shoveling potatoes onto her plate.

“Figured if Joel was coming, there’d be leftovers,” she said.

Joel made a face. “Hey.”

“I mean, look at you. You don’t even finish your plate.”

You grinned. “He gave me his cornbread last week. That’s love.”

“Gross,” Ellie muttered. “But also… can I have yours too?”

The three of you laughed and Joel watched, silent but full.

Across the table, Tommy caught his eye. For just a second, Joel saw it; hat soft, surprised look in his brother’s face. The one that said I didn’t think you’d ever have this again. That he didn’t think Joel could ever laugh like that, sit around a table like that, with a kid and a woman who looked at him like he hung the damn moon.

Like a family.

Joel looked away, cleared his throat. It was too much, too close to the heart.

Tommy didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, after Ellie went home and the town quieted down under falling snow, Joel walked you home.

You stood on your porch, snowflakes catching in your hair.

Joel brushed them away gently.

“You comin’ in?” you asked.

“In a sec,” he murmured. “Just… wanna look at you a bit.”

You gave him a look. “You’re ridiculous.”

He looked at you, really looked. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Only for you.”

And he meant it.

In a world that had taken so much from him, you were the thing he’d never expected to find again; something warm. Something kind.

Something his.

[xcaptainhannax]

joel series ?

i'm thinking of doing a joel series but i have so many ideas i swear, help me create this

[xcaptainhannax]

In the Absence of Blood (ellie williams x platonic! reader)

Plot: You thought Joel was dead. He thought he'd never see you again. Then he returns with a kid who doesn’t want a mother, and you—who’ve spent years learning to survive alone—slowly become exactly that. After Joel’s death, Ellie remembers.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: for someone who doesn't want kids i sure read a lot of ellie x reader mom fics, i've had this idea on my mind for a bit, hope everyone likes it :) btw i kind of ignored david and that part of the story...just follow along pls

You’d stopped hoping a long time ago.

When Jackson’s scouts had found your group, you were half-starved and half-broken, you lost Joel in the chaos. Months had passed. Then more. Then winter. You assumed the worst, and the ache in your chest became part of your body—dull, familiar, inescapable.

So when you hear Tommy yelling from the gate and see a rider approaching through the snow, you don’t dare believe it.

And yet… there he is.

Horse hooves crunch through frost as he rides into view—his hair streaked with more gray, beard fuller, shoulders tired from more than just the ride. And behind him, a girl—scowling, sharp-eyed, clutching a rifle like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.

But all you can see is him.

You don’t run. You walk, because if you move too fast it might shatter the illusion. When Joel slides off the horse, it takes everything in you not to cry.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His eyes find yours, and in that moment, something breaks—something that’s been locked inside both of you.

You step into him, hands on his chest, fingers fisting in his coat, just to make sure he’s real.

And then he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years.

“I thought you were gone,” you whisper.

He presses his forehead to yours. “I thought the same about you.”

And just like that, you're home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ellie doesn’t trust you.

Not at first.

She watches everything—the way your hand lingers on Joel’s arm, the quiet way you move around the house, the way Joel softens when he looks at you. It makes her defensive. Sharp.

You don’t push. You’ve seen enough kids like her—scrappy, wounded, scared of being left behind. You don’t try to mother her.

You just stay.

That night, Joel’s out catching up with Tommy; Ellie finds you on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, sipping something warm.

“You and Joel… were a thing?”

You glance at her. “We still are. Even if we had to survive apart for a while.”

She nods like it’s just a fact. But there’s a flicker of something else—longing, maybe. Curiosity. Hope, buried under sarcasm.

You offer her the other half of your drink. She takes it without a word.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Joel is stabbed and Ellie drags him to safety, you’re already out there—searching, frantic. You knew that you had to go with them but Joel insisted that you stayed at Jackson, after all you had built a life there and he promised that they were going to the Fireflies and come back to you.

After looking for them for hours you find the house. You find her watching over him, gun in hand, eyes swollen from lack of sleep.

She doesn’t speak when you kneel beside her and check his pulse. She just shifts slightly, giving you space. But she doesn’t leave the room.

Later, when Joel finally opens his eyes and croaks out your name, Ellie bursts into tears and rushes from the room like it caught her off guard.

You find her outside. She tries to play it off.

“He’s fine,” she says. “Guess you can go back to playing nurse or whatever.”

You sigh, not taking her words to heart as you've seen the way her eyes watered once Joel was awake.

You sit beside her. “You did that, not me.”

She shrugs. But when your hand rests on hers, she doesn’t pull away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bond forms slowly.

She lets you teach her how to bandage better. Then how to cook something that isn’t burned. Then she asks—just once—what Joel was like before all this.

You tell her stories. Some funny. Some painful.

She starts calling you “Ma’am” to be annoying. You roll your eyes and call her “Kid.”

Then one day, after days of travelling together , she mutters “Thanks, Mom—shit, I mean—sorry.”

You smile. “No need to apologize.”

Joel, walking just ahead, pauses for a second. Doesn’t turn around. But you catch the way his shoulders ease, just slightly. It’s like a weight shifts off of him, something warm in his chest he didn’t know was there—didn’t know he’d see again. He didn’t think he’d ever see you act maternal like that again. Not after Sarah.

She won’t look at you for a while after that.

But something changes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Joel dies, it hits like a freight train.

You’re there—covered in blood, screaming, begging for him to breathe. But the world doesn’t listen.

Ellie watches it happen, helpless.

She barely speaks for days after. She feels everything at once, the guilt, the anger, the desire to go after the person who killed Joel. And she thinks of you, the way she stopped talking to you once she found out the truth about the Fireflies, the lies you and Joel created to shield her from the truth.

But then you’re injured too. Not badly, but bad enough. You take a blow to the ribs trying to protect him but you failed. You don’t tell Ellie.

But she sees you limping.

And suddenly, she’s there.

At your door. At your side.

Hovering like a ghost, trying not to care but already caring too much.

“I—I thought I was gonna lose you too,” she says one night, voice trembling, eyes glassy.

You open your arms, and she folds into them like she did when she was fourteen—skinny and scarred, trying not to cry.

“You didn’t,” you whisper into her hair. “You still haven’t.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Months later, after blood and fire and the silence Joel left behind, after chasing Abby until what felt like the end of the world (wich was ironic considering it's the end of the world already) Ellie stands on the edge of Jackson, hands in her jacket pockets, breath fogging the morning air.

You’re still in the house she once called yours too. Still tending to the quiet things—woodpiles, porch plants, Joel’s guitar.

She watches you from a distance sometimes. Doesn’t come close. Not yet. Too much has happened. Too much not said.

But she sees you.

Sees the way you keep Joel’s flannel shirts hanging near the fire. The way you still hum under your breath when cooking.

Ellie’s heart aches in that old, familiar way. But this time, there’s no rage behind it.

Just memory. And warmth.

“I didn’t let you say it,” she whispers one day, watching you hang laundry in the wind. “But you were. You were my mom.”

The words disappear into the breeze. You don’t hear them.

But maybe… somehow, you already know.

And maybe, one day, she’ll say them to your face.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Years later, she comes back.

Not as often. Time has done its thing. But she visits.

She helps stack firewood. She hums Joel’s old songs when she thinks you aren’t listening. And sometimes, she stays long enough to fall asleep on your couch.

One day, she brings you a photo.

It’s a sketch she made of Joel. He’s smiling, faintly, in a way he rarely did. In the corner, she’s scribbled a note:

"He was a better man with you. And I was a better kid. —E"

You frame it.

One day she starts to spill everything to you, everything that she didn't say before.

She tells you about how she moved in with Dina and her baby after chasing Abby, how she had to gain her trust again and that they were now living in Jackson once more because Dina still was trying to trust Ellie, she also tells you how she is trying to remake her life but doesn't mention about how hard it is.

She also feels guilty about leaving you here all alone with Joel's memories all around you, but doesn't say anything just makes a mental promise to visit you more often. After all you are her mom.

She doesn’t say it aloud, not then, but she holds you tighter when she hugs you goodbye.

And when she turns back toward the door, her voice drifts behind her:

“Love you, Mom.”

You freeze. Then smile. And finally, finally, say it back.

"Love you too, kid"

[xcaptainhannax]

What about a fic for little Ellie with little reader when they were in Fedra, but later on they parted ways and they met eachother again in Jackson!

ohhh i like that, i'm thinking of something already, anything specific u want on that or just pure ellie x reader fluff

[xcaptainhannax]

tlou fanfic ideas

same as everyone in this fandom my mind has been consumed with The Last of Us again and i've been thinking of some ideas, maybe some ellie x reader but in a mom planotic type of way, some more jackson joel x reader...who knows ...

if you have any ideas or request for tlou fire away

[xcaptainhannax]

Where It Hurts The Most (joel miller x reader)

Plot: Abby swears she only wants Joel dead—until she sees how much she means to him. Blinded by grief and rage, she changes her plan, targeting her instead. Joel powerless to stop the fallout is forced to watch as Abby wants him to feel the same crushing loss she once did.

Warnings: violence, blood, torture

A/N: I know Abby mentions multiple times that she only wants Joel BUT this idea came to mind and yet again i can do whatever the fuck i want SO yeah !! i hope you like this new twisted idea, joel is alive tho so that counts for something, right? RIGHT??

The ski lodge reeked of blood and gunpowder.

Joel's breathing was ragged as he struggled against the ropes biting into his wrists. Blood slicked his side — Abby hadn’t wasted time. When they'd first dragged him in, she'd made sure to beat him half to death, cracking ribs, splitting his brow, breaking him down piece by piece.

He didn’t know if the pool beneath him was mostly his or someone else's.

Ellie’s muffled screams and Dina’s frantic shouts echoed around the wooden beams of the cabin, but Joel’s focus was locked on one thing: you, forced to your knees before Abby, bruised and bloodied.

"I was just going to kill him," Abby said, voice trembling with rage as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Quick. Clean."

From across the room, Owen stepped forward, hesitation thick in his voice. "Abby — this isn’t what we talked about. We came for Joel. Just Joel."

"Yeah," Manny added warily, shifting his weight, his rifle lowering slightly. "Don't make this messier."

Abby barely heard them. She glanced down at you — saw the way your eyes, swollen and bloodshot, still searched for Joel — and her expression twisted into something dark, something cruel.

"But that’s not enough anymore," she muttered.

Joel jerked against his bonds so violently the chair scraped loudly against the floor. "You fuckin’ touch her, I swear to God—" His voice broke into a growl, hoarse and burning from the earlier beating.

Abby laughed, cold and hollow. "You’re gonna watch, Joel. You’re gonna feel everything I felt when you killed my father."

"No!" Ellie screamed, fighting against the arms pinning her down. "Please — please, don't!"

Abby barely glanced at her before turning back to you. She grabbed you roughly by the collar, yanking you closer. You didn’t cry, didn’t beg — you just kept your eyes on Joel.

Trying to be strong for him.

The first punch landed hard, sending your head snapping back. Joel bellowed your name, straining so hard that blood seeped from his wrists where the rope cut into his skin.

Another blow. And another.

Joel was roaring, begging, his voice hoarse and broken. Ellie was sobbing, Dina trying to twist free from the guards holding her.

"I’m gonna kill you!" Joel swore, voice cracking. "I’m gonna rip you apart!"

But Abby didn’t stop — not until your body slumped, weak and trembling, against the floorboards.

Joel’s vision blurred — from blood, from rage, from helplessness — until he heard it: Gunshots.

The door to the lodge slammed open, splintering against the wall.

Tommy burst inside, rifle raised, already firing. Behind him, Jackson patrols flooded the lodge like a tide — someone must have sent a signal.

The room exploded into chaos — gunfire, screaming, bodies scrambling for cover.

Joel didn’t think. He tore at the ropes until the chair tipped over, smashing against the floor. He rolled, gasping, side burning, and his hands — bloody and half-numb — finally found freedom.

He crawled to you, heart thundering so loud he couldn't hear anything else.

"Baby—" His hands cradled your face, sticky with blood and too cold. "No, no, stay with me. Look at me."

You blinked sluggishly, pupils slow to respond — but you were alive.

"Joel," you whispered, voice cracked and broken, but so alive it made him choke on a sob.

"I got you," he rasped, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're okay, baby. You’re okay."

Ellie and Dina were suddenly there too, shielding you as Tommy’s voice barked orders across the lodge.

And then Joel heard it — a sharp yell, a struggle — and through the broken beams of the lodge, he saw Abby trying to escape, blood trailing from a wound at her side. She shoved past a patrolman, frantic.

Tommy didn't hesitate.

One clean shot rang out.

Abby stumbled, then crumpled to the floor without a sound.

Joel stared — not with triumph, not even with hatred — just with a hollow, aching finality. She would never hurt anyone again.

The fight moved outside. The lodge grew quieter, except for your shallow breathing and Joel’s broken prayers.

Ellie clung to your side, Dina pressing cloth to your wounds, and Joel held you like he could will you whole again — ignoring the searing pain in his ribs, the way blood trickled down his temple.

Maybe he couldn't undo the pain Abby had caused. Maybe nothing would ever be the same.

But you were alive. And for Joel Miller, that was enough to keep fighting.

[xcaptainhannax]

Sorry to fill up your inbox (feel free to delete this), but thank you so so so so much!!! I LOVED it!!! *squeals* SO CUTE!!!! Okay, anyway, thank you!!!! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

~🦊 Anon

omg don't worry!!! fill my inbox as much as u want, I love feedback!! glad u liked it ❤️❤️❤️

[xcaptainhannax]

Just My Nature (regulus black x reader)

Plot: A flirty Ravenclaw and stoic Regulus Black keep dancing around their feelings. She's bold, he's stubborn—until one playful moment with their Slytherin friends leaves Regulus unexpectedly flustered, and the truth finally slips out.

Warnings: my lack of marauders knowledge could be a warning

A/N: this is for my sweet 🦊 Anon, I hope i made your idea justice !! like I said i'm more of a golden era girlie soooo i tried my best ❤️

The corridors of Hogwarts were quieter in the evening, save for the low hum of whispered gossip and the occasional shriek from a portrait. You’d gotten used to the rhythm of the castle — especially now, in your sixth year, with a routine that included sneaking back from the Slytherin common room at least three times a week.

Okay, maybe four. But who was counting?

You blamed Pandora, your dormmate and partner-in-chaos, for pulling you into the green-and-silver circle. But secretly, you didn’t mind. The Slytherin Skittles — as everyone jokingly called the shiny, drama-loving crew — were strangely addictive company.

Especially a certain Regulus Black.

"You’re staring again," Pandora said as she flopped beside you on the common room couch, handing you a Butterbeer she'd nicked from the kitchens.

"I was not," you mumbled, sipping.

"You were practically setting him on fire with your eyes."

Across the room, Regulus sat with his legs crossed, elegant as ever, flipping through some dusty tome like he wasn’t aware of the world watching him. Like he wasn’t aware of you watching him.

Which was stupid, because you made it obvious.

"Regulus," you called, drawing out the syllables like honey.

His eyes flicked up, cool and unreadable. "Yes?"

You grinned. "You look terribly serious. I think you’d benefit from smiling at least once a century."

"I think I’d benefit from silence," he said, and you could hear the others snort into their drinks behind you. Even Barty gave a rare chuckle.

Regulus didn’t look at them. But you noticed the very faint twitch of his lips.

************************************************************************

This was the dance: you, tossing flirtatious comments like confetti, brushing your fingers just a little too close when handing him a quill, complimenting his hair when it was absolutely perfect (which was always).

And Regulus, pretending it all bounced right off him.

You weren’t even sure what you were trying to get out of it anymore. A confession? A reaction? Or maybe… just proof that he saw you too.

************************************************************************

It happened on one of those lazy Friday nights, sprawled across the Slytherin common room with everyone buzzing over some potion mischief that Evan had pulled off earlier. The fire was crackling, someone was trying to play Exploding Snap on the rug, and you were curled into one end of the couch, head tilted, watching Regulus as he argued with Pandora about book spines or something absurd.

You reached over and plucked his sleeve to get his attention.

He turned. "What?"

You leaned in, real casual, and whispered, "You’re my favorite."

It was different. Not teasing. Not loud. Just... low and soft and kind of real.

And oh, you saw it — the flicker of something very not unbothered in his eyes. His posture stiffened, his mouth opened like he had a response, but nothing came out. His ears were turning pink.

Barty raised a brow. "Regulus? You alright?"

"I’m fine," he snapped, almost too fast. Then turned to you. "You shouldn’t say things like that."

You blinked. "Why not?"

"Because you don’t mean them."

"Who says I don’t?"

Silence.

You didn’t look away, even as your heart did a stupid little tap dance in your chest. And then — finally — Regulus sighed like he was giving up a war he’d been fighting alone.

"You’re not just like that with everyone, are you?"

You blinked. "Like what?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Like this. All... charming. Distracting. Impossible."

Your smile curved. "Only for you."

He looked at you like you’d just flipped his entire world upside down.

Then — then — he leaned closer, voice quiet.

"Good. Because I’d really rather not watch you flirt with anyone else."

Your heart definitely skipped.

"Regulus Black," you whispered, "was that you flirting back?"

He rolled his eyes — but he was smiling now, just slightly.

"Don’t get used to it."

Pandora whooped from the other side of the couch. "Took you long enough!"

Regulus groaned. You just laughed and leaned into his shoulder, and this time, he didn’t pull away.

[xcaptainhannax]

masterlist updated ✨

after 3 years i finally updated my masterlist, if you want to check my older posts click here and if you want to read the new stuff go click as well bc it's updated !!!

and if you want to request anything new go here !!

[xcaptainhannax]

Hi!!!! Okay, so, can I request a Regulus Black X Fem Ravenclaw Reader? Reader is dormmates with Pandora and so she’s in with the Slytherin squad (Slytherin Skittles lol). Anyway, so the reader has a crush on Regulus and like casually just flirts with him a lot. Like she’s just trying to get him to realize she likes him, but he just thinks she’s naturally flirty? And Regulus likes the reader back, but he acts like super unamused and unbothered by her actions. Eventually, the Slytherin Skittles are hanging out or something and reader does something different and Regulus gets all flustered or worked up in some way and feelings are shared? It’s late so I don’t know if this is congruent, but hopefully 🤞.

You can use the request, idea, change it up if you want, or not do it at all. Up to you! Have a good day/afternoon/night!

Lots of love, 🦊 Anon

Hi!! my new 🦊 anon, I'll be drafting something and try to make it justice lol i'm more of a golden era or even hl girlie BUT i will write for you, expect something for tomorrow ❤️

[xcaptainhannax]

Through the Dark (sebastian sallow x reader)

Plot: The reader, lost in thought after weeks of emotional distance, is found by Sebastian at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A quiet confrontation leads to a heartfelt confession and a promise that neither will have to go through the dark alone.

Warnings: none

A/N: I started to listen to one direction again and omg that song just screamed sebastian to me

The night hung heavy over the Highlands, stars hidden behind clouds as the wind howled low across the grounds of Hogwarts. You stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, arms crossed, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out there — only that you needed space. Space from whispers in the halls, from the pressure of expectations, from the ache in your chest that never quite went away. You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt it. That quiet pull, like gravity bending to something you couldn’t explain.

“Y/N,” Sebastian's voice cut through the dark, low and cautious. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

You didn’t turn around. “Neither should you.”

He stepped closer anyway. “That’s fair.”

There was a pause, the kind filled with things unsaid. He stood next to you now, not touching, just existing in your orbit like always. Ever since everything with Anne… and Solomon… things between you and Sebastian had been stuck somewhere between what was and what could have been.

“You don’t have to do this by yourself, you know,” he said, his voice softer now.

You looked at him finally, meeting those brown eyes that had once looked at the world with fire and now carried too much weight. “Do what?”

“Carry it. The guilt. The pain. Whatever it is that's been eating at you lately.” He hesitated. “I see it, you know. Even when you hide it from everyone else.”

You let out a shaky breath, looking away. “What if I don’t want to be seen like that?”

Sebastian gave a half-smile, more sad than amused. “Then I’ll wait until you’re ready. But I’ll still be here.”

The wind picked up, rustling the trees behind you. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat refusing to go away.

“I feel like I’m breaking,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “And I don’t know how to fix it.”

He didn’t hesitate this time. His hand reached for yours, fingers lacing through yours with that same gentle stubbornness that had always defined him when it came to you.

“Then let me walk through the dark with you,” he said. “Even if you can’t see the way forward yet.”

You looked at him, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“I won’t let you face it alone. Not now. Not ever.”

You leaned into him then, just enough that your forehead touched his chest. And for the first time in a while, the storm inside you quieted — not gone, but manageable. Because maybe, just maybe, with Sebastian beside you… you wouldn’t have to be strong all the time.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and for a moment, there was only warmth.

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes again — and the look he gave you was something unspoken but understood, something that had been building quietly between you for so long.

Your breath caught.

And then he kissed you.

It was soft at first, unsure, like a question — until you kissed him back. And the moment deepened, slow and steady, like the two of you were writing a promise with your lips: I'm here. I won't leave. We'll get through this.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested together, and Sebastian exhaled like he'd been holding it in for months.

“Still want to walk through the dark with me?” you whispered.

He smiled, and this time, it reached his eyes. “Always.”

[xcaptainhannax]

[xcaptainhannax]

Until the Storm Broke (joel miller x reader)

Plot: When a routine patrol turns into a deadly ambush, the reader risks everything to save Joel from a group of vengeful Fireflies—emerging wounded but victorious, and giving Joel a reason to keep going.

Warnings: violence, blood, tlou SPOILERS!!!! if you haven't seen the new chapter please be aware.

A/N: i knew what was gonna happen bc i played the game but still i couldn't watch it, i actually closed my eyes for it bc i was gonna cry BUT since this is fanfiction and im free to do whatever the fuck i want, joel lives and is happy and loved. I've taken some liberty on this for eg. jackson is not under attack and the events might no be carbon copy but i mean the plot is there ok?

The storm was brewing like a secret. Heavy clouds pushed against the peaks, and the air had that bite — the kind that told you you were on borrowed time.

Joel and Dina left early. East patrol. Joel had said something casual over coffee, a rare smile tucked behind his cup.

“Be back by sundown. Try not to miss me.”

You tried to play it cool, but you watched him ride off longer than you should’ve.

By the time you, Ellie, and Jesse mounted up a few hours later, the wind had picked up. The snow came down slow at first, just dusting the trees. You were supposed to loop through the western perimeter and check in every hour. Easy.

It stopped being easy when the radio started breaking up.

Jesse fiddled with the receiver, frowning. “They should’ve checked in by now.”

“Joel?” Ellie leaned close to the radio, voice low. “Dina? Come in.”

Static.

A burst of something.

“—not responding—ski—”

Another crackle.

“—fuck—Joel—”

Silence.

You locked eyes with Jesse.

“We go now,” you said, already kicking your horse forward.

Ellie was on your heels. No one argued.

The storm swallowed you whole. Visibility dropped, your scarf iced over, and it was almost impossible to see the trail. But you knew the old ski lodge wasn’t far. Joel had taken you there once, told you to remember the path.

You did.

The lodge was barely visible through the flurrying snow — a crooked silhouette of a cabin with boards over the windows. A warm glow leaked through a cracked door.

You dismounted first. Pistol drawn. You couldn’t explain it, but something felt off.

Inside, it was hell.

Dina was on the floor, slumped against the wall. She looked uninjured, but her eyes were shut and her breathing was shallow. Drugged — not bleeding.

You rushed to her first, checked her pulse. Strong.

“Dina,” you whispered. No response.

Then you saw Joel.

On his knees. Breathing heavy. A man grabbing him by the shoulders, keeping him down. Blood ran down his face. His hands were cuffed behind him.

Surrounding him were five strangers. Weapons drawn. Faces full of something ugly — like it wasn’t about survival.

Like it was personal.

You didn’t wait.

“NOW!” you shouted.

Jesse burst through the doorway and opened fire. Ellie rolled in behind him, a clean shot to the guy nearest Joel. You ran for him, ducking behind a broken counter.

“JOEL!” you shouted. “Down!”

He dropped as best he could. You vaulted over a chair and fired three rounds — hit one square in the neck. Another turned toward you, and before you could react, his bullet grazed your side, burning pain flaring across your ribs.

But you were already moving.

You tackled the man who had pinned Joel, knocking him off balance, and your shoulder cracked hard against the floor. You cried out, but reached for your knife.

Too late.

He lunged.

A shot rang out.

Jesse. Clean through the guy’s temple.

You panted, chest heaving, as the last one — the woman with the golf club— turned and ran.

She didn’t get far.

Ellie chased her down. You heard the scuffle. Then nothing.

Silence.

You crawled over to Joel, uncuffing him with shaking hands.

His eyes widened when he saw your blood.

“Y/N—”

“I’m okay,” you lied, breath hitching. “We got you.”

Joel leaned forward, cupping the back of your neck, his blood mixing with yours. “You shouldn’t’ve come.”

You laughed bitterly. “Like hell I wouldn’t.”

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By the time you got back to Jackson, you were half-frozen and barely conscious.

They patched you up. The bullet had passed through clean, no organ damage. Your shoulder, though, was wrecked. And your ribs would be sore for weeks.

Joel never left your side.

Neither did Ellie. You knew she was still resentful with Joel but the attack clearly left her scared.

Dina, still groggy, came to see you the next morning. “They gave me something. Knocked me out cold. I didn’t even see it coming.”

She was safe. All of you were and that’s all that mattered.

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Joel sat next to your bed that night, hand in yours, eyes tired but alive.

“Reckless,” he muttered. “Damn fool thing you did.”

“You’d do it for me.”

He was quiet.

“Already did,” you added softly.

Joel leaned in then, forehead brushing yours.

“I’d do it again,” he said.

There was a long silence before he spoke again, voice lower, heavier.

“They were Fireflies.”

You looked at him.

“The girl—the one who swung the bat. Her name was Abby. She was the daughter of that surgeon. The one I… killed. Back in Salt Lake. To get Ellie out.”

His voice cracked just a little. “They were after me because of that. Spent years hunting me.”

You squeezed his hand, gently.

“And they found you. And they lost.”

You met his eyes, firm.

“You saved Ellie that day. I’d have done the same. And I’ll keep saving you now, every damn time if I have to.”

Joel stared at you, a thousand things flashing behind those storm-colored eyes. He didn’t speak for a moment. Then he leaned closer, pressing his forehead to yours again.

“Goddamn lucky you’re stubborn.”

You smiled. “You love that about me.”

He chuckled — a soft, broken sound.

“I do.”

[xcaptainhannax]

Do you write for the marauders era of Harry Potter???

Also HI!!!!!

~🦊 (new Anon so if it’s been used already, sorry!)

Hi! I sure do!! you can do your request!!

[xcaptainhannax]

Lavender Haze

Plot: Ominis finds comfort in your calming presence—and the soft scent of lavender you always carry. Quiet moments turn into something deeper as the two of you fall for each other in the quiet corners of Hogwarts.

Warnings: none

A/N: ominis makes me thing of soft intimate moments between the two filled with fluff

It started with the smell of lavender.

You didn’t mean for it to happen—really, you didn’t—but Ominis had taken the empty seat beside you in Herbology, and your robes still carried the faint scent from a sachet tucked in your pocket. You saw the way his head tilted ever so slightly when he sat down, nose twitching just a bit.

“You smell like… something familiar,” he said, voice low, polite. “Lavender?”

You blinked. “Yeah. I keep a bit in my pocket. Helps with nerves.”

He gave the softest hum. “It suits you.”

That was it. The start of everything.

Over the next few weeks, Ominis began appearing more often beside you. In the library, in the Great Hall, in the courtyard when the wind was gentle and the sky soft with clouds. He didn’t talk much at first, but when he did, it was always kind.

“You read aloud when you study,” he said one evening, when you hadn’t even noticed he was listening.

“Sorry,” you’d said, flushing.

“Don’t be. I like it.”

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One night, late—too late for anyone to be out without getting in trouble—you found him in the Astronomy Tower. You’d gone up there to clear your head after a nightmare, but there he was, leaning on the railing, face tilted toward the stars he couldn't see.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said quietly.

“You didn’t.” He turned, sensing you by the shift in the air. “You have that lavender again.”

You sat beside him, robes brushing.

“It’s calming,” you said.

“So are you,” he replied, without hesitation.

Your heart stuttered.

You fell into a routine after that. Notes passed between classes—spells scrawled in the corners, and sometimes little things just for you. “You felt different in the greenhouse today—lighter. Happy. It was beautiful. ” “You hum when you’re nervous in Potions.” “Meet me by the Lake?”

One morning, tucked into your Charms textbook, was a folded scrap of parchment, perfect writing as always.

I charmed something for you. It’s silly, but… It’ll smell like lavender when you’re sad. Just tap it with your wand. -O

Inside was a tiny paper flower, enchanted to never wilt.

You smiled, blush creeping up your cheecks at the thought of Ominis crafting something so beautiful for you.

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It was just before curfew when he finally held your hand.

You were sitting together in the Undercroft, the walls glowing faintly with wandlight, your heads close over a book he wasn’t really listening to. His fingers found yours in a hesitant, searching way—like he was unsure, but wanted so badly to be sure.

“I’ve never done this before,” he said quietly.

“What, held someone’s hand?”

“No,” he laughed, “Fallen for someone.”

You squeezed his hand. “Me neither.”

And the lavender scent lingered in the room like a promise.