#We did kill that raider with no injuries

[pushing500]

I'm sure it's nothing, but maybe we should take a closer look at it once our basic shelter is finished...

I'm sure Mechi is devastated to have visitors already.

Some of these visitors are very rude, too.

No matter. We'll get the message across if it kills them (especially if it kills them)

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[entitled-fangirl]

Two idiots in love. (P14)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Joel is determined to get Y/N and Ellie out of the hospital.

Warnings: Gun, blood, injuries, death

Author's note: This is THE FINAL PART for now until season 2 comes out!😭 I'm crying over here. Anyway...

Masterlist

Part 13 if you need caught up!

Part 1

...............................................................

Joel had turned into an animal. The heartless soldier he knew he could be. 

It even scared him.

He walked through every corridor with no sound, shooting any movement he saw with perfect accuracy. 

He traced his steps, searching for Y/N or Ellie, whichever he could find first. 

It happened to be Y/N.

He found the hospital room they had put her in. 

While there was a bed in there, he found her asleep on the floor by the locked door.

After literally shooting the hinges off, he shook her away softly, "Sweet girl, we gotta go. C'mon."

She rubbed her puffy eyes.

He knew that look.

She was crying at some point.

She sat up, her voice low and scratchy, "w…Joel?"

He nodded, rubbing her cheek softly to help wake her up, "Let's go. They're gonna kill Ellie."

This woke her up, "What?"

He helped her up by her bicep, "Can you walk?"

She nods, "Yeah… yeah… I'm fine."

She follows behind Joel quietly, avoiding stepping on the assortment of broken glass with her bare feet. 

It scared her how his eyes flit back and forth in anger and determination. 

He was killing anything that got in their path with no thought.

It reminded her how lucky she was to be on this side of his anger.

But she got lost in her head as her body pushed against Joel's outstretched arm.

He quickly looked back, "Watch th-"

She looked down at the pile of glass shards she had just stepped in.

She looked up at the ceiling, biting her lip to avoid making a noise.

Joel cursed, "Fuck. Just… Goddammit. You bleeding?"

She lifted her foot, seeing a bit of blood drop onto the floor. 

She finally let out a little wince. "I.. I'm fine."

He clenched one of his fists, letting his voice drop low, "You have to stay behind me. Not too far. Not too close."

"No," she reasoned, "I'll slow you down."

He shook his head, "You can't. You have to keep up."

"I'll leave a blood trail. They'll follow us."

"Leave that to me."

She knew better than to argue with him.

…

Joel walked down the hall with determination.

He didn't even dare to look back at Y/N as she limped behind him.

He knew if he did, he'd slow down. 

Then he would never save Ellie.

He opened the door to her surgery room slowly, letting his eyes roam over the sight.

It killed him.

She was hooked up a million machines with three different people standing over her. 

The didn't notice the two outsiders until Joel spoke up, "unhook her."

They looked up with a gasp. 

The doctor stepped forward, "How did you get in here?"

"I said unhook her."

"I won't let you take her," the doctor said as he grabbed a scalpel. 

Joel shot his quickly.

His gun turned to the nurses, "Unhook her."

They screamed in fright.

"MOVE!"

They did as he said, and he quickly pulled her into his arms. 

He walked out of the door, expecting Y/N to follow.

The three entered the elevator in silence.

The doors opened to the parking garage.

Joel looked out. His gaze settled on a car that was already running.

He moved towards it.

Marlene moved from behind a pillar and pointed her gun at his head, "You can't keep her safe forever. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, she's gonna grow up, Joel. Then you'll die. She'll leave."

Y/N finally spoke up, standing in front of him, "You'll shut your goddamn mouth if you know what's good for you."

Marlene scoffed, "How long until she's torn apart by Infected or murdered by raiders? Because she lives in a broken world that you could have saved, Joel."

"Maybe," he reasoned, "but it isn't for you to decide."

"Or you." She spat at him, "So, what would she decide? Because I think she'd wanna do what's right. And you two know it. It's not too late. Even after all of this, we can still find a way."

…

The two adults said nothing as the truck drove down the road. Y/N was in no mood to talk, not that there was even much to say.

Joel finally broke it, "Why… uh.. what happened to you back there?"

She looks away from her wrapped foot to gaze at him, "What?"

"You cried. I could tell. And… why were you on the floor?"

She sighed and shook her head, "I don't want to talk about it."

Joel's jaw clenched, "C'mon. You need to let me into that head of yours at some point."

She smiled to herself, "Alright. Fine. It's just…"

He looked to her again, "What? Sweetheart, please."

"Marlene said something that… I don't know. It sounds stupid…."

He scoffed, "Nothing that comes outta your mouth is ever stupid, Darlin."

She squirmed in her seat, "She said that… you dropped me and Ellie off at the hospital and… left. Marlene said she would take me to 'my family'. Whatever that means."

Joel took a long, deep breath, "Okay…"

She looks up at him with teary eyes, "…Were… were you gonna do that?"

His eyes widen, "Leave you? No. I'll never leave you or Ellie as long as you want me around."

She wipes her eyes, "Promise?"

He smiles, "I do."

She leans back again, "Well.. I… They locked me in the room when I tried to get out and look for you. Banged on the door so long I must've fallen asleep by it. How… how did you know I was there?"

He shook his head, "I didn't. I searched for you."

She smiled, "Thank you, Joel."

He shook his head, "Please don't thank me. I don't deserve it."

"Joel, please. I knew better than to believe Marlene. She's a fucking liar. I wouldn't replace you two for the world," she smiled even wider, "Well... I guess you really did pick us over the world, didn't you?"

He smiled, "I guess I did, sweet girl. I guess I did."

Ellie finally let out a breath as she began to wake up.

Joel cooed at her, "It's all right. You're with me and Y/N."

Y/N turned in her seat to look at Ellie, "Hey. Just… take it slow."

He nodded, "Those drugs are still wearing' off."

Ellie began to speak softly, "I was with the fireflies and then- what drugs?"

His eyes watered, "They were runnin' some tests on you, and some others." He looked over to Y/N with knowing eyes, "Turns out, Ellie, there's a whole lot more like you. People that are immune. Dozens of them. And the doctors, they couldn't make any of it work. They've actually-"

Y/N finally spoke, going along with his lie, "They've stopped looking for a cure." 

"Where… where are my clothes?"

Joel spoke up, "Raiders attacked the hospital. We barely got ya outta there. We'll find you some new ones on the way."

Y/N smiled, "Actually, Ellie. I have an extra pair of jeans that may fit you."

But she couldn't care less, "Were people hurt?"

Joel didn't dare to look at Y/N, and she sure as hell wasn't as good at lying as she had hoped. 

He nodded, "Yeah."

"Is Marlene okay?"

Joel's lips pulled into a thin line and he simply stared through the windshield.

Ellie's face dropped and she turned on her side to avoid looking at Joel through the mirror anymore.

"I'm taking us home," he finally said, "I'm sorry."

…

What they neglected to tell El is what really happened in the parking garage.

Marlene slowly lowered her gun, dropping it on the floor. 

Joel seized that moment of weakness to shoot her.

He placed Ellie in the backseat of the running truck before turning to Y/N, "You'll stay here and watch her."

She nodded. 

He walked back to Marlene who laid bleeding on on the concrete floor. She was spitting blood and crying out from the pain.

As Joel approached, she held her hands up as much as she could, "No, wait, wait, wait. Please. Just.. let me go."

Joel said in an even tone. "You'd just come after her."

Gunshot.

…

"Well," Joel sighed as he inspected the smoking engine. "She got us pretty far. Take the rest on foot. It's probably a five-hour hike, but we can manage that. Remember?"

Ellie smiled, "Yeah."

He looked over Ellie towards Y/N, "Think you can walk?"

She smiles and nods as she laces up her new boots, "Yeah. I think I can do it."

…

"You know, Sarah and I used to hike like this all the time." He smiled, "I wouldn't say it was her favorite thing. She wasn't a fan of the mosquitoes and such. But… she was a big climber, or scampering. That's probably the right word. That girl, man, she woulda liked you. Not to say the two of you are the same. Definitely different kids."

"How so?" Ellie wondered.

"Well, she was a lot more, I wanna say girly. And I'm not saying that you're not girly-"

Ellie scoffed, "-I'm not."

Joel nodded, "Yeah, you're not. So… that. And she was taller. She had a killer smile. Again… not saying you don't. But… you know why I think she'd like you?"

"Why?"

"Cause you're funny. I think you would've made her laugh. You would've liked her."

"Yeah, I bet I would've."

He finally turned toward Y/N, "She would've liked you, too."

Y/N smiled, "Don't pity me just cause you said she'd like Ellie."

"I'm not!" He laughed, "I'm being honest. She… uh… She liked anything that she knew I liked. So… she would've liked you a lot."

Y/N teased him, "Are you saying you like me, Joel Miller?"

He scoffed, "If you haven't realized that by now, we've got major issues, Sweetheart."

She smiled as she followed behind him.

…

"There it is," Joel said as they looked over the city. "Not much further now."

Ellie stopped, "Hey. Wait."

Joel immediately stopped, holding out his arm to stop Y/N as well.

"Back in Kansas City, you asked me about the first time I killed someone. Well… when I got bit in the mall, I wasn't on my own. My best friend was there and she got bit, too. We didn't know what to do, and she said, 'we can just wait it out, be all poetic and just lose our minds together.' And then she did. And I had to- uh… her name was Riley, and she was the first to die. Then it was Tess. And then Sam-"

"-That's not on you." He interrupted. "Look, sometimes, things don't work out the way we hope. You can feel like you've come to an end, and you don't know what to do next. But if you just keep going… you find something new to fight for. And maybe that's not what-"

"-Swear to me. Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true."

Joel didn't hesitate to lie, "I swear."

Y/N opened to mouth to swear too, but Ellie held up a hand, "Don't. You've never lied to me before, Y/N. So… I know you wouldn't now."

Y/N felt an uneasy feeling in her stomach at that.

Ellie nodded at Joel, "Alright, then."

And she began to walk further down the hill.

Joel pulled Y/N close and gently kissed the top of her head, "We'll be alright, sweet girl. I'll swear that to you too if I need to."

Y/N tilted her head up to gently kiss Joel's chapped lips, "I don't need you to swear anything. I know you'll keep this one."

He smiled.

They walked down the hill together, ready to try this whole family thing again.

..............................................................

Author's note: Let's all pretend the rest of the story doesn't exist and they all live happily ever after. The end. <3

Tags: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje, @ashleyfilm, @darling-imobsessed@yomiyasxx@gigistorm@klwrites@harriedandharassed@mthealy@picketniffler@brinleighsstuff@daybleedsintonightfa11@pedr0swh0r3@treblebeth@missladym1981@sarahhxx03 @asexyladie@swiggityswoody52

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Over Mountains Cold

Kili Durin x Reader

Words: 4931

Summary: On a quest for your family, you and your traveling companion get caught in a winter storm in the Grey Mountains. Your true feelings for your best friend come to light when you struggle to make it through the chilling night. 

Notes: The heater in my room is broken and the image of cuddling with Kili to get warm is just really nice to me, okay? I will use Aidan Turner to dissociate before I contact ever maintenance. (also, why can’t I just write fluff? Why does there have to be the angsty backstory of losing siblings? The world may never know)

Warnings: Kind of a chaotic plot. An ungodly amount of sexual tension. I don’t make the rules. 

-

Fili gave a final wave as he disappeared over the ridge, taking the ponies with him. His brother tried to calm the pit in his stomach. Not only was Fili off to retrieve more supplies alone, but the cold was setting in. If he didn’t make it to the next village by the time the snow started, he would get stuck out here. 

Just like you were. 

“We should go,” You sighed. “We’ll want to set up camp before it gets dark and I want to search the foothills to the east before the sun goes down.”

Kili looked up at the sky. “It’s going to be a cold night.” Already, his breath came out in puffs from his lips. “Maybe we should stay here until morning. It’s lower, so it’ll be warmer and the snow hasn’t reached us yet.” 

You stiffened and turned determined eyes towards him. “I won’t waste any time. If there’s a chance of finding my sisters out here, I’m taking it.” 

You waited for him to argue or tell you how foolish you were. Winter was on the horizon and these mountains would be impassable in the coming weeks. But your friend merely gave you a small smile and put a hand on your shoulder. 

“Then lead the way.” 

You wanted to kiss him. Well, you often wanted to kiss him, but in that moment, with his eyes full of trust and belief in you, no words could express your gratitude. But, coward that you were, you settled for a pat on the arm and an awkward nod. 

“Right. Follow me.” You hurried away from him before you could do something stupid. 

You’d known the dwarven princes for most of your life. Having grown up near the Blue Mountains, you spent a lot of time with Durin’s folk, listening to their stories, celebrating their festivals, and causing a little chaos with your two closest friends. You couldn’t count the times Kili and Fili had gotten you into some kind of trouble, but surely they would say the same thing about you. 

The younger prince walked beside you, telling you legends of ridiculous creatures living in these hills, trying to make you smile. It worked, of course. Between his grin and a bit of theatricality, he never failed to lighten your moods. 

Kili was your best friend. He was there for every prank, every adventure, and every heartbreak. When your village was attacked by raiders three years ago, he spent weeks tending to your injuries and trying to hunt down the people who’d hurt you. 

That’s when they were taken. Your two older sisters, Maryina and Baeriel. Sometime during the battle, those foul men came to your home and stole them away. You were nearly killed trying to defend them. Everyone told you they were dead. Even your parents didn’t have the heart to keep looking after so long, but you wouldn’t give up. You knew they were alive. Kili was the only one who believed you.

“Do you remember what you told me?” You asked suddenly. 

Kili turned his head, hazel-brown eyes bright in the afternoon sun. His brows furrowed with curiosity. 

You elaborated. “When I said I was going to find them. I said I’d search the whole of Middle Earth if I had to. What did you say?” 

Kili beamed. “I said ‘Well, you’re not doing it without me,’” he remembered. “‘You’d get lost.’” 

“Exactly,” you laughed. “And, I do believe that you lead us down more a stray path than I, dear friend.” 

“But we always found our way in the end, didn’t we?” Kili grinned. 

“That we did.” 

The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence with something heavier hanging between you. 

Grass swayed with dying breaths, green turned to dry white. Ahead, towering peaks capped with snow loomed like a massive, foreboding gate. You watched them with growing unrest. Kili’s shoulder brushed against yours as you walked as if just to remind you he was there. 

The afternoon stretched and yawned. The sun began to hover. With every passing hour, the more the light sank, so did your hopes. Your search in the foothills yielded nothing. Not even the remnants of a possible settlement. 

“They aren’t here,” you said. You ran a hand down your tired face, eyes scanning the vast landscape, the mountains at your back. You turned to Kili. “What if…”

You’d come here on a rumor that the raiders who took your sisters had a base in the Grey Mountains. But that’s all you had to go off of- rumors. 

“It’s the first day.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “We’ll keep looking.” Kili scanned the dense woods at the base of the mountains, hoping for some signal of smoke or any other sign of life. There was nothing. But he wasn’t going to give up hope and he certainly wasn’t going to let you. “Come, let’s set up somewhere to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “But if you’re saying you need to rest, then I suppose we can pitch the tent.” 

He rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Last one to the trees gathers firewood,” he challenged. The mischievous dwarf took off before you had the chance to process what he said. 

“Hey!” You called after him and ran as fast as your legs could carry. 

-

Usually, the three of you always camped out under the stars, but knowing how cold it would be, you brought a tent to provide a little shelter. But laying there, so close to him, the fabric barrier between you and the night sky seemed suffocating. 

It wasn’t the closest you’d ever been, of course. There had even been some nights where you found yourself asleep on his shoulder after a long day or he would doze off with his head in your lap. There was just something about this- something about the two of you enclosed together, alone- that felt different. 

You laid completely still, screwing your eyes shut, but your mind refused to rest. The form beside you shifted back and forth, twisting and turning. Kili grunted in frustration and turned onto his back. 

“Y/N?” He whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately.” 

He blew out a breath. “We should sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. We’ll have to find some food in case Fili gets holed up somewhere.” 

You hummed and nodded. 

Both of you stared up at the slanted ceiling of the tent, not moving and not speaking. The tension alone chilled you to the bone, making you shudder. 

“Are you cold?” Kili asked. 

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, because I have an extra fur-”

“Kili, go to sleep.” You huffed, shifting to your side away from him so he couldn’t see the painful want in your eyes. 

Kili was more than just your best friend to you. He was your first love, the only person you’d ever loved, really. You’d had suitors in the past ask for your hand, but you declined them all. Your heart was no longer yours to give away. But you could never bring yourself to tell him. He was a prince, after all, and what were you? A nobody. 

You blinked away tears and curled up as close to the tent’s wall as possible. 

So close together and yet you couldn't feel more distant. 

-

The next day yielded even less results. The further you got into the mountains, the less hope you had that you were going in the right direction. The Eastern Pass took you higher in elevation and further away from Fili with the supplies. 

“Wait.” Kili stopped suddenly, putting a hand out in front of you. “Listen.”

You halted, the frostbitten ground shifting beneath your boots. At first, the slight breeze was all you could detect, but as the forest stilled, the subtle yet clear sound of hooves carried on the wind. 

And they were getting closer. 

“Get down.” You grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled. The two of you tumbled into a bush, losing your balance in your haste. Kili hit the ground. You fell onto his chest, knocking the breath out of both of you. 

Kili grimaced. 

“Sorry,” you whispered. Your faces turned a similar shade of pink, both trying to hide it from the other.

The familiar thudding against the forest floor increased in speed and volume. From your position, you could just see through the foliage that kept you hidden.  Kili craned his neck, blindly trying to get a glance. 

“Can you see them?” He asked. 

“Shh.” 

You kept your head low as you stared out. Watching. Waiting. As the horses neared, you decided there couldn’t be more than three. 

“We could take them,” you whispered, looking down. But the sight of Kili lying beneath you, hazel-brown eyes staring up into yours with his hair a mess below him was too much. It sent a burning, twisting feeling through your stomach. You looked back up at the road. “There aren’t many. We could fight and force them to tell us where they took my sisters.”

“Are you mad?” Kili hissed, shifting underneath you. His hips rocked up into yours by accident. He sucked in a breath. “It could be innocent travelers going through the mountains. Or worse, there could be a dozen fighters and we’d be dead in seconds.”

“Since when are you the cautious one?” You scoffed, ignoring his movements and prepping yourself to pounce. 

Kili locked his arms around your middle and rolled. He had you on your back before you could stop him, pinning you to the forest floor with his hands on either side of your head. 

“Since I’m trying to keep you from getting yourself killed,” he growled. 

Relieved that your hips were no longer pressed against his, Kili had put himself in another predicament hovering over your body, his lips mere inches from yours. 

It shamed him to think of how many times he’d imagined you like this.

He waited until the riders were past, counting three, just as you said, but they seemed only to be a father and his two children, both under the age of 16. Kili doubted that these were the raiders who had destroyed your home. One of them mentioned something about getting over the pass before the storm, which made him uneasy. 

Despite the heat of your bodies, the air was indeed growing colder. Clouds were gathering and a crisp, cool scent hung in the air. 

Kili stood and held out a hand to help you up. 

You didn’t take it. 

“We need to keep moving.” 

He swallowed. “We should head back to lower grounds. If we get caught in the pass, who knows how we’ll get out.” 

You didn’t look at him. Instead, you continued up the path. “I wasn’t asking.”

-

Kili walked behind you, neither saying a word. He saw the tension in your back shifting like you were already in battle. He only wished he could relieve at least some of the weight that bore down on your shoulders. Witnessing you in such pain hurt him more than he knew how to express. That, unfortunately, wasn’t the only thing he struggled to put into words. 

It had taken Kili long enough to finally admit his feelings for you to himself, but it was taking even longer for him to admit them to you. Fear wasn’t something that usually stopped him- he’d faced trolls and orc packs a dozen times over- but the idea of jeopardizing his friendship with you frightened him to no end. 

Still, lying there, pressed against you, had drummed all of those feelings up to the front of his mind. They distracted him from the real issue at hand and he tried to remind himself that you need him focused. You needed a warrior, not a love-sick errand boy. 

“If we keep at this pace, we can make it through the pass by morning,” you said grimly. 

Kili exhaled, his voice deep with concern. “Y/N, you need to rest.” 

“I need to find my sisters.” 

You kept walking. 

Kili kept his arguments to himself. Starting a fight now would only make you angrier and he didn’t want to risk you going off alone. 

He let out a low sigh. Being the responsible one was exhausting. 

Kili watched the sun with a concerned eye and discomfort growing in his stomach. His breath appeared in a cloud from his lips. But worse, flecks of white sent panic up his spine. The snow speckled the branches of the pines around them and added to the already thick blanket of frost that coated the ground. The further up, the deeper the snow banks. 

“These flurries won’t be flurries for long,” he warned. 

“We’ll make it.” 

You refused to turn back to look at him. If you did, you knew that one look at his face would make you forget your persistence. You would turn around and head back down the mountain and have to start all over again in the morning. So you kept your eyes ahead, despite the growing shiver down your spine. 

Besides, it was only a little snow. You and the brothers had faced worse on numerous occasions. 

Kili quickened his pace to take his place beside you again. 

“This way,” he said. “I’ve heard a shortcut through this pass.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve heard of one?”

“We’re here based on a rumor, aren’t we?” He retorted. 

You shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough.’ 

Kili took the lead as the air thickened with white flakes. The shortcut, while it existed as far as he knew, was not the true purpose of his change in direction. He’d read journals telling tales of adventures through these mountains and he remembered a checkpoint for many. A cave where they could take shelter from winter storms. He only hoped it was real. 

You began to regret your stubbornness as the cold seeped through your coat, the snow falling thicker and thicker, decreasing your visibility until you could see but a mere few feet in front of you. 

In a blink, the blizzard set in. 

You trudged on. Eyes blinded by white, you walk straight into the mass in front of you. Your companion’s warmth drew you in and you couldn’t help but press yourself against his back. His arm wrapped around, searching for yours. 

“Take my hand!” Kili called back to you. 

You did so without hesitation, wincing at the chilled state of his skin. 

“We’re nearly there!” He shouted over the wind. 

“That’s impossible! We haven’t even made it through the pass!”

“You’ll see.” 

Trust was the only thing you had left, your senses overtaken by the storm. And then suddenly, it stopped. Kili pulled you forward and the choking white curtained the opening of the cave behind you. Wind howled, but no longer deafened. 

“You knew this was here?” You gasped through chattering teeth. 

Kili gulped. “I hoped.” 

“You hoped?” 

“You kept going!” He held out his hands, fingers stretched and shaking with his words. “I didn’t know what else to do!” 

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” You ran a hand down your face, wincing at the freezing surface of your own skin, as well as the exhaustion overtaking your features. You paced back toward the blinding white outside. “We’ll stay here until the storm blows over and then we’ll keep going.” 

Standing at the opening of the cave, the wind still chilled you to the bone. Still, you watched, as if your sisters would magically appear and welcome you into their warm arms. 

As the image passed through your mind, you were gently pulled away from the wind by a hand as cold as yours, and yet it sparked the warmth that you needed. Kili placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his. 

“You’re exhausted,” he said. “We cannot afford to be careless. Not out here. We’ll go out again in the morning. You need to rest.” Before you could argue, he added, “We both do.” 

With the fog of determination outweighed by fatigue and frost, you sighed in defeat, hanging your head. 

“Alright,” you conceded. 

Kili put a finger under your chin and lifted your eyes. He gave you a small smile to which you couldn’t help but reciprocate. 

“Come on. We should set up the tent. It might not be much, but it can’t hurt.” 

Your chattering teeth gave no argument. There was no wood for a fire, the smoke would fill the small space anyway, so the thin cloth was your only added defense against the cold. 

Once inside, you both felt the same pull towards each other, your bodies craving the heat of another. But you stayed on the far side, as far as you could get, mind clouded by icy, frozen fear. Kili didn’t say anything, trying to ignore the ache in his chest as he tried to sleep. 

Your eyes couldn’t have been shut for more than a moment when you heard them. 

“Y/N!” 

“Y/N! Where are you?” 

You blinked to clear the tiredness from your eyes and listened. 

“It can’t be,” you whispered. 

“Y/N! Y/N!” 

Maryina and Baeriel. 

You listened again. 

“We’re here! Help us!”

Your sisters. They were out there. They were trapped in the storm. They needed you. 

You sat up, tossing aside the coat you’d been using for a blanket and ignored the bitter air seeping through your tunic. You didn’t feel it. You didn’t see your companion sleeping across from you. You didn’t hear the wind as you stepped out of the tent. You only heard your sisters’ cries…

And stepped out into the blizzard. 

-

Kili twisted and turned. As hard as he tried, sleep never stayed. He dozed off only to drift back, trying not to shiver. 

“I can’t sleep again,” he sighed. Kili flipped onto his other side. Rubbing his tired eyes, he opened them. The bundle of furs beside him took an odd shape. 

Empty. 

“Y/N?” 

He sat up and reached across the tent, feeling nothing but frigid air. Kili lifted his head, panic banishing any exhaustion left in his limbs. 

The untied opening of the tent flapped in the wind. 

“Y/N!” He called out. 

The storm screamed in response. 

He scrambled out of his bedroll and sprinted into the night. Fat, white flakes stuck to his face and eyelashes no matter how much he blinked them away. 

“Y/N!” He shouted again. 

Kili walked, trying to keep the cave in sight. The blizzard raged around him, concealing even the silhouette of the trees. He cried out your name again and again. With every passing second of silence, his chest grew tighter. 

Why would you have gone off alone? 

What if something had taken you?

There was no way for Fili to reach the cave until the storm settled, which meant he was completely and utterly alone. 

“Y/N!” 

It felt like hours before the wind let up and even then, snow continued to fall and the air turned even colder, creeping down Kili’s neck like a thousand icy-legged spiders. 

There, in the distance, he could just make out a shape, wandering and covered in a thick, frozen blanket. 

Kili ran as fast as his aching legs would allow, his boots sliding on the ice-coated ground. No matter how loud he shouted, it was as if you couldn’t hear him. You trudged on, the snow almost reaching your knees. You didn’t even have your coat. If he didn’t get you out of this cold, you would surely be lost to the white nothingness that surrounded you. 

“Y/N, what are you-” Kili moved to grab your arm and found that your eyes were closed. Ice stuck to your face where tears had fallen and your blue lips muttered the same two things over and over again.

“Maryina…. Baeriel….” 

Kili’s heart shattered like an icicle falling to the earth. 

“Y/N, love, wake up,” he pleaded, gently taking hold of your shoulders. He had to stop himself from recoiling. Even through your tunic, you were like a statue, freezing to the touch. “We need to get back to the cave. I need to get you to a fire. I need to get you warm.” 

Already, you looked like a walking corpse. 

But your eyes were starting to open.

“K-Kili?” You muttered through chattering teeth. “What’s going on? I’m so…” You stepped forward, falling against him. “I’m so cold.” 

Kili didn’t hesitate. He scooped you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest. He followed his own footprints as they were slowly being covered again by the falling snow. By some miracle, he made it back to the cave. He hurried into the tent, wishing he had the material for a fire. For now, all he had was hope. 

“I heard them,” you said, still dazed. “I heard their voices calling to me in the storm.” 

“And you followed it?” He gasped, quickly undoing the fastens of his coat. “Are you mad? Even if they were out there, you’re no good to them frozen to death.” 

Kili shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. 

“No, Kili.” You tried to push him away, but he was stronger, fueled by panic and determination. “Kili, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said harriedly. He tied the entrance of the tent to keep out the frigid wind and laid down, gently pulling you along with him. Kili rubbed his hands up and down your arms, careful to keep the heap of furs wrapped tightly around you. He held you against his chest, his tunic slightly undone so you could feel the heat of his skin against your cheek. 

As his warmth broke through the icy surface that suffocated your entire body, your mind started to clear. It started to wake up.

And when it did all you could see was his wide, golden-brown eyes searching yours with a fire you’d seen a few times before. Once when you’d been separated from him and his brother for a week on a particularly stressful journey and the other when your village was attacked and your sisters were taken. Each time, he looked as though he was looking at the sun for the first time. 

At the time, you didn’t understand, or perhaps you didn’t let yourself understand. You understood now what that fire meant. 

He was, and would always be, your shelter. 

Like magnets, you somehow were drawn together still, despite already being impossibly close. The air between you was hot with your breathing. Everything seemed to stand still, from the raging winds outside to the racing heart inside your chest. 

Neither of you said a word, an entire conversation held simply in the lock of your gazes. 

Kili’s hand cradled the back of your head, laying it against his chest. You felt the soft, sweet warmth of his lips on your forehead. 

Despite the hauntings of your mind, your heart gave you leave to rest in the strength and comfort of Kili’s embrace, allowing both of you to slip back into the persistent reach of slumber. 

-

The storm blocked the pass by morning and, without any equipment, there was no way to get over. It had all been for nothing. 

Fili found you halfway back down the mountain, the pony’s back covered with more supplies. 

“What happened to you two?” He asked.

“We couldn’t find them,” you snapped, hurrying ahead of both of them. 

Fili turned to his brother. 

Kili shook his head. 

Your party of three traveled until you found the nearest tavern and the boys made you stop for the night, watching exhaustion seep into your every step. 

Dinner was had in silence with an air hanging so thick that Fili felt he would choke on it. He could never imagine the two of you fighting- he knew that his brother would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. But he also knew Kili’s true feelings towards his best friend and Fili couldn’t help but wonder if something had been revealed while he was gone. 

“We’ll start up toward the northern villages in a few days,” Kili said. “It’ll give us some time to rest, regroup, and plan.” 

You stared at your plate. “What’s the point?” 

Both turned to you. 

Kili’s eyes softened. “Y/N, you don’t mean that.”

“They’re gone, Kili.” You blinked back tears. “We could search until the end of time and we still wouldn’t find them.”

“Then to the end of time we will look because I am not giving up,” he insisted. His dark eyes took on that glimmer from last night, igniting something within you. 

Your nightmare wasn’t the only thing that frightened you. 

“I’m going to my room,” you said, pushing away from the table. Your form disappeared up the stairs with the gaze of both princes trailing after you. 

Kili sighed, running his fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“You just going to let her go?” Fili scoffed. 

“What would you have me do?” 

Fili shook his head and took a drink of his ale. 

Kili narrowed his eyes. “What?”

His brother raised a brow. “Y/N is the most stubborn, persistent, devoted woman I’ve ever met. She isn’t giving up on looking for her sisters. She’s worried about continuing the search with us.” 

“What?” Kili exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Kili, brother,” Fili sighed. “I’m saying maybe my absence was exactly the two of you needed and you’re both still avoiding what I’ve seen for as long as we’ve known Y/N.” He finished off his ale and snatched Kili’s away before he could protest. “Now go talk to her.” 

Kili swallowed, staring at the steps. It took one final shove from his brother to actually get him to stand up and move. 

As he ascended the stairs, Kili thought about everything Fili had said. What did he mean, his absence was what you two needed? What did he know that Kili didn’t? 

Of course, the younger prince knew exactly what his brother meant. He’d always known, even when he didn’t know how to admit it. But waking up in that tent, the panicked thoughts of you out in the storm, alone, the terror of losing you to the ice and snow, and holding you in his arms to keep you warm all revealed exactly what had been in his heart all these years. 

He loved you. 

Perhaps Fili was right. 

Maybe it was time to finally tell you. 

Kili found your room and stood before it for a good long while. He tried raising his hand to knock, but he was just… frozen in place. 

What if this was a mistake? 

What if decades of friendship fell apart in this moment?

What if-

The door opened and his heart stopped. 

You startled back at the sight of his big brown eyes. The eyes you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. The ones you wanted to get lost in and never be found. And he was there, waiting for you. 

You both opened your mouths to speak and stopped, waiting for the other person, leaving you both in a tense silence. The same tension from the tent. The one that drew you together, closer and closer. 

“Kili, I-”

His lips caught yours, silencing the words you still weren’t sure how to say. You let your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, closer still if that was even possible. Every moment, every breath from the last few days had been leading to this. And all either of you could think was one word. 

Finally. 

And as Fili watched you pull Kili into your room, kicking the door closed behind him, he was thinking the same thing. 

“Finally,” he muttered, shaking his head as he went to his room, glad to have it to himself for a change. 

-

Kili’s lips brushed against your forehead, the rest of your body completely tangled with his. Your arms wrapped around his bare chest, your legs wound between his, and your head was tucked under his chin. Your naked skin burned against each other but you never wanted it to stop. 

And between every sigh, every pleasured cry or whispered word came one phrase. I love you. 

He said it again, now. “I love you.” 

You turned to look up at him. Into those eyes. The gaze that captured you more and more every time. 

“And I you,” you said, kissing his collarbone, then his jaw, then finally his lips. “I have loved you ever since you taught me to shoot an arrow through the apples on our tree.” 

Kili grinned, deepening the kiss and moving so his face hovered over yours. 

“I’m still not giving up, you know,” he whispered. “We will find your sisters. And we will do it together.”

You wrapped a brown curl around your finger and nodded. 

“I know. Before, I was just… scared.” You turned your head away. “That storm took me to a place I don’t want to go again.”

Kili laid a hand on your cheek, bringing your eyes back to his. “I’ll keep you safe.” He kissed your forehead again. “I promise.” 

After letting the seriousness of your words settle for a moment, you grinned mischievously and rolled so that you straddled him. 

“We should have tried this sooner,” you smirked. 

Kili laughed and rolled again, putting him back above you. “It’s certainly a good way to stay warm.”

[fallout4-reacts]

An actual prompt this time! I know you're busy and have plenty of things to write yet, take your time.

Soo I was thinking that maybe companions (and Maxson) horribly failing at confessing to Sole. Like for example they could clear out some Raiders, companion is impressed, tries to confess BAM Sole gets fucking decked by random raider they didn't kill. I feel like you could get pretty creative with that one. Like deathclaws, something exploding, just settlers running in, other companions interrupting etc.

Yeah! Sorry for my waiting list but this one just take me out of my bed literally Maybe it's better then just writing nothing and you all will forgive me... I will not taking it as an habit but it was just what I needed I think And maybe an EPIC ask... I think it will be (not in the sense I'll do an epic job, in the sense hmmm Titan Quest like the F.E.V. one and all) Oh, and take note you ask for... horribly

Part 1

Danse / Deacon / Nick Valentine

(Part 2 : Hancock, Preston, Strong)

(Part 3 : X6-88 alone because of a bug)

(Part 4 : Gage, MacCready, Piper)

(Part 5 : Cait, Curie, Codsworth, Dogmeat, Elder Maxson)

Danse : Sole returns. Sole returns to the bunker after a few days. Danse had time to clean and make the space more comfortable. He didn't consider establishing his new camp there because, after all, he didn't consider living at all.

But now he did.

And Sole came back.

Danse kept himself occupied during his few days alone, trying not to worry about what was happening to him. But he pondered his new envision of himself. Beyond the initial distaste, he felt a sense of conviction, similar to how Sole stood.

Whatever he is, he is a person with convictions for which he fought. He was a man of honor —a synth?— whose his brothers and sisters could trust.

He'd come a long way. His damned way into this group that turned his back on him after he had dedicated his blood and soul for them. And Maxson, whom he almost considered a friend, treated him as if he were a worm to be crushed.

After being reassured that he agreed with Sole on his right to life, his thoughts couldn't help but wander.

He recalls Sole standing in front of him, defending him against Maxson.

And even more.

More, a lot more.

He can't help but replay in his mind all of these events, all of these moments. When Sole emerged as an avenging angel, slaying all the ghouls in their way, Danse was convinced that his squad's final hour had arrived. They entered the paladin's life as a mythical entity, too great for regular mortals, an enigmatic spirit of the times sent to save them.

Then there's how they forced a comedy at Fort Strong while killing mutants. Danse had admonished them a few times for their lack of seriousness in the face of a critical assignment, but he couldn't keep a smile from rising on his face in the midst of their antics.

And all of their nonsense, every time they could.

Danse had pieced together Sole's intentions and the horror of their past, and he couldn't help but admire this person's trustworthiness. When Danse expressed concern about Sole's moral status following such heinous ordeals, Sole merely grinned and remarked that the companionship they were blessed with helped them get through.

Even after they returned from the Institute, learning the injurious truth, they had held on, had rounded the corner, and Danse felt better to know he had been by their side to help. To morally support them.

And now that Sole is standing in front of Danse again, slightly smiling and wondering what's next for him, Danse feels his throat tighten.

Because Danse has realized that he has strong affections for Sole.

Much more than a simple friendship.

He nods slowly.

"Perhaps we should consider venturing to Sanctuary. I am unable to endure it any further. First and foremost, I am a soldier, and a soldier without a purpose doesn't progress very far. I humbly express my desire to align myself with the esteemed Minutemen's structure. In the utmost, their cause is righteous, and they shall not forsake me nor open fire upon me. I have received word that their General harbors a troubling acceptance towards synths."

"They tolerate and love them a lot," Sole admits with a half-smile.

They proceed without adding anything. Thus far north, there is no road that crosses directly, at least not according to Sole. As best they can, they cross the countryside in wreckage, cutting valleys and hills.

And Danse remains quiet, lost in introspection.

Yes, he likes Sole a lot more than simply as a friend. There's a lot more. Soon, Sole will return to their Rail Road operations, to which Danse has never been requested (and he now understands why), while Danse will begin his Minutemen duties, most likely limited to the Castle for the time of his training. And, while it appeared to him at first to be the finest way to fill his days, he now has a peculiar uneasiness at the prospect of leaving Sole without delivering anything of what he feel upon them.

They are in the midst of the wreckage of a plane that crashed there two centuries ago. They passed through a few Minutemen (apparently, it is in the profession to check out every nook and cranny of the Commonwealth), but they are now alone and isolated in front of the cabin of the downed craft.

He clears his throat slightly in an attempt to catch the attention of his partner.

Sole looks at him.

"Something's wrong, Danse?"

When the realization occurs to the fallen Paladin that he would never again have his title before his name, he swallows hard. But that's not the issue he's having right now.

"I…I'm not really a man of words but…"

Sole erupts in laughter.

"Are you not a man of words? Yes, you ate a dictionary at birth!"

For a few whiles, the poor man panics, unable to restore balance after the sting of Sole. He had seized his courage in both hands in an attempt to open his heart, and his partner had fallen back into amusement. But he needs to tell them. He has to. He knows deep down that he has to.

"Sole, please."

They instantly calm down, recognizing that the man in front of them appears to be death serious.

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be like that. What I'm trying to say is this—

Sole's expression shifts from calm to dread in an instant, while Danse hears the anger of a beast he despises beyond all in his back. He despises her much more now that she's interfering in such an important situation.

He turns, weapon in hand, to fully answer to the deathclaw, and then follows a long and deadly combat. The beast is fierce and perhaps ancient, and it not easily defeated.

When they eventually prevail against the monster, with a few bites and scratches here and there, Danse don't dare trying again to express himself. And Sole now has to patch them up as soon as they find out a settlement, so they regretfully didn't think to inquire furthermore.

Deacon : His deathly bunny and he jumped into a plethora of wolf dens. Nothing, however, tops being in his favorite den.

The spy like it when Sole stays for the evening and then retires to the back of the HQ for a well-deserved rest. Despite the fact that he does not require sleep himself —as a synth, eh— he enjoys lying on the mattress next to Sole when they ask it, with a roll of the eyes at his answer.

They normally spend a few more moments on their mattresses talking about everything and nothing until one of them falls asleep —more often then none Sole, because Deacon is a synth, yup.

"Tell me again how he almost swallowed his beard."

Sole bursts out laughing.

"I told him to go to hell. That I was only in their camp for my friend Danse, and that by turning their back on him, the entire organization may roast, I would never support them again. Anyway, it's irrelevant now. Let them go to fight like the big boys they are against this blasted Institute and get the heck out of my territory."

Deacon like it when Sole becomes engrossed. The fire in their eyes awakens his heart's hearth. He would never have confessed to them. Never. Never previously has it's not have seems important.

There is still a serious moment, which Sole elaborates on.

"It's very little Deacon, to remain silent and, moreover, serious. What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing, you know. There isn't much to eat here. Perhaps a programming error. Perhaps I should run a diagnostic."

Sole's chuckling is priceless. Deacon smiles quietly as he listens to the pleasant melody in his ears. They stare at him again when his friend grows still serious.

They sit on the mattress and motion for Deacon to do the same. As he straightens, the spy stares down. Sole is right. He has words on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't dare to voice them for the first time in his holy life. Sole gently takes his hands in their, searching for his eyes.

"Deacon, you know you can tell me anything?"

The man glances into the other side and swallows cautiously. Yes, he has the right to tell Sole anything. But what about that? Can he? He has to. He has a debt to Sole. He owes them a frank and honest sincerity. And even the thought seems weird to him. A straightforward and open sincerity? He has no recollection of what it tastes like.

"I'll be honest then," he says, hesitantly, as if he must step into the void. "It's been a while since I should have told you."

He takes a deep breath, ready to blow it all, when an unusually powerful vibration is noticed.

Sole turns their gaze towards the headquarters, and suddenly they hear screaming and gunshots.

"But…"

Deacon leaps to his feet. This kind of roar his still heard in his worst nightmares. Just like the day the Coursers assaulted the old HQ. But isn't Tinker Tom meant to put cameras? How did the Coursers gain access to the facility, this time?

"The Brotherhoods!" yells someone from within.

Sole and Deacon are already on the front lines of defense, positioning themselves to hold the soldiers for as long as it takes for the others to flee. They didn't even need to talk. With Gloria, they hold the line and exchange gunshots with their enemies, keeping them in respect for so long that Deacon is confident their friends will have no problem to disappear in the ruins of Boston. Gloria then makes a strangled gasp and collapses to her knees, her gun no longer firing shots. Deacon peers at her, fear on his face as he realizes his friend has been badly shot.

"Glo!"

A grunt and a thud behind his back make him fear the worst. He attempts to hold the BoS at bay, but his weapon is too slow without Gloria's gatling and Sole's assault rifle.

Desperate, he throws a couple of grenades into the tunnel to gain time, and he manages to push the invaders back slightly.

He rushes alongside Sole right away.

"Eh!"

His friend clutches their bowels in agony, or what remains of them. Deacon wraps his arms around them and softly cradles them.

"Don't worry, everything will be alright. Let's go locate Carrington."

As he glances around, searching in the room... he realizes that the doctor is among the casualties. He growls and attempts to drag Sole further away, hoping to hide them.

"We're going to get through this," he said. "We're going to get through this, I promise" he repeats dejectedly.

“Liar,” breaths Sole before becoming limp in his arms.

Nick Valentine : They came to a halt near the GNN, in the ruins of an abandoned house of which he believes was once a settlement.

He finds it weird that the occupants simply vanished overnight, leaving no trace.

It happens occasionally, such as at University Point, although there are traces. There are dead settlers, downed synths, evidence, and clues.

But here, just the emptiness of tranquility, as if no one had lived there since the war.

But Sole is worn out, hungry, and thirsty, and all he wants is one evening off, possibly one night.

While his companion actually runs aground on a dingy old mattress in the living room of the modest house, Nick ensures that nothing threatens them. When the synth returns from his excursion, his partner hasn't moved one inch.

He moves careful closer.

"Well, ya gotta keep that belly of yours satisfied. And imbibing a beverage would assuredly be a wise course of action."

He was met with a growl in response. He looked around. The previously residents provided a fire pit. He reaches over, takes Sole's bag, and begins cooking something for them.

"I'll rouse you from your slumber once the soup is ready."

Another grunt joins in. He can't help but sneering. Of course, he finds a cauldron (even two) and every necessary instrument in Sole's backpack to prepare the thrifty dinner. Water canes, carrots, and a piece of meat that he starts cutting into small cubes. He whistles merrily, converting himself into a maid of the household, as he frequently does with Sole.

"Ah, the pangs of nostalgia for the flavors of garlic and cilantro doth visit me on occasion. Parsley and mint!

“Salt, pepper,” Sole mumbles under their arm, their head shifting slightly to reach a more comfortable position.

Nick digs deeper into the bag and uncovers a pepper and salt shaker.

"Well, I must say, this here stuff seems to possess quite the remarkable dose of radiation, and it should lacks any discernible flavor."

“Still good,” corrects the other.

Nick chuckles a little and adds the condiments, pleased to be able to improve the soup he's making.

He sits down and glances around the room while waiting for the meal to be ready. It had to have been a nice house. Here had to live a lovely little family. He takes note of the stairs. The bedrooms should be on the second floor. Children, most likely. A pleasant existence.

Normal.

His gaze is drawn to the limp figure on the mattress. His artificial lips slowly form a tiny smile. Sole, in all their magnificence, is a stunning, authoritarian, and noble individual. But the visual of Sole spread out, blindly trusting their companion for safety, entirely abandoned to the sleep that stole them, is something that few can boast of seeing.

And Nick owns it.

He has it all and meticulously details his friend.

And once more, this odd sensation arises in the hollow of his components.

It happens from time to time. Often. More and more. When their gazes cross. When they cheer at a triumph. When a file is closed. When they're simply the two of them at the end of an evening by the fire. When Sole departs for a while and then reappears on his doorstep.

And Nick can no longer mislead himself.

He experiences a feeling. This is not a programming error. His circuits are flawless in that. It's just a true, intense, genuine emotion.

He serves a bowl of soup and kneels next to Sole, softly shaking their shoulder.

"Stand up, Sleeping Beauty, lunch is served!"

Sole scolds and growls but sit in front of Nick, gratefully taking the bowl that their friend hands them. They begin to eat it carefully, as if lost in contemplation. And Nick can't stop admiring them, always fascinated by the elegance of their features and the brightness in their eyes.

His companion frowns as they glance back at him. "I got something stick in my teeth?"

Nick sighs and laughs a little.

"There's absolutely nothin' on here. None of it, pal."

"So what?"

"It seems that this, ah, old carcass of mine hasn't been spinning as smoothly as I'd prefer for quite some time now."

Sole places the dish on the ground, their face etched with anguish and earnestness.

"Nick, what's wrong?"

The synth is astonished.

"Oh, nothing to be awry. Not quite how you're envisioning it. It's just a tough nut to crack."

"Say so, and we'll figure it out together. Perhaps I am able to help you."

He places a sympathetic hand on Nick's metal one, the synth constantly amazed at how tactile Sole is with him despite his nature.

"How can you…help me?"

Even though Sole is the organic, it's Nick who swallows with difficulty. He lowers his head, his eyes hidden by the brim of his fedora, but Sole's hand rises from his to tuck beneath his chin.

"Hello, I'm here. I will always be there for you. No matter what."

After getting some good breaths, Nick takes the plunge to opens his bag. He opens his mouth to respond, but then a radroach erupts between them, knocking the bowl of soup over and driving both to rush to their feet and draw their weapons.

After the "vicious" opponent is dispatched, a nice laugh and a new bowl of soup, Sole raises an eyebrow.

"But what did you want to tell me, before our surprise guest wasted your delicious soup?"

Nick swallows and makes a dismissive hand motion.

"Nothin', absolutely nothin'. Drop it..."

[thisuserislilsilly]

Summary: Before the Emperor took Angron away from Nuceria, there was one that loved him, trusted him, attempted to avenge him

Honestly I wanted to do this as a thanks to @druidwolf21 for writing for my boy Angron

Pairing: male original character x Angron

Genre: Action/angst/ fluff

TW: Hella blood, some fluff, gore, angst, just....just sad Angron

Goblin tag squad: @cardinalcanis @finchly-tintinnabulation @artemisareia @echo-of-damnation

@meervalv0 @jaghatai-khock @druidwolf21

Brothers and sisters

"My brothers and sisters...I swore I'd stand with them. We would die together" - Angron, "Betrayer" by Aaron Dembski-Bowden

Ferron clenched his teeth as the crude medical equipment plunged into his side and ripped the spear tip out of his body, instantly applying some cloth to the wound and pressure as to avoid more bleeding. He felt dizzy, the last battle had almost costed him a hand and half of his spine, but the gladiator was still standing and that was all of what he cared about. Those last few weeks had been the most liberating days of his entire life and, too, the most painful and stressful moments the man had ever lived. Since their escape from the gladiator's pits there was no safe place in the entirety of Nuceria for their group. Each and every day the High Raiders charged against their position one more of them died, one more gained a serious injury or bled out in the cold arid sands of their planet. But they were free at last, they were not forced to fight each other or hear those bastards insults and winning because the blood spilled by the gladiators didn't entertain them any longer; there was always a hideous idea to spice things up, one more derogatory rule to apply into the fights to make them exciting for the onlookers but painful and dreadful for any of those that eventually had to bleed and die for their amusement. Not anymore, no longer they fought for nothing; this time, this fights were for themselves, those deaths were chosen by them and that resistance was solely made by them. There were no masters to take that agency away from them.

Still, for all the freedom they had it did not magically made any of their wounds disappear, it did not guaranteed their plans of liberation would even succeed; but both their leader Angron and his brothers and sisters knew it would make a difference, this whole thing would wound the lords of Nuceria, perhaps not for long, but it would for some time. Angron, oh how much torture his friend had endured; Ferron had been with that giant for as long as he had served a death sentence for the crime of killing his previous owner after almost beating him to death. Angron had been there on his first fight, congratulating Ferron as much as he could with the Butcher's Nails biting the giant's head for showing an ounce of compassion. How much did Ferron loved that man was too much for simple words to express it.

The rest of the gladiators weren't too bad as well, Asti for as much as he didn't sit still on the heat of battle or in the camp itself was a joy to talk with and have a laugh, Jochura had just recently taught Ferron how to make his first weapon out of the bones and armor of a fallen High Rider, Larbedon and his speeches...they all had something beyond the bloodshed, beyond what the galaxy had doomed them all to do. If that was not worth fighting for, then nothing could ever be.

"Alone with your thoughts again, poet?" Hermina entered the little space Ferron had called his own with a grin "Just to numb the pain; I didn't want the other's lecturing me again about being more careful" Ferron rolled his eyes, moving the bandage a little to see if there was still some bleeding "Need help with that?" She pointed to the cloth "No, go away I'll be fine" He waved his hand "Suit yourself" Hermina replied, shrugging and approaching somebody else

Ferron smirked softly, liking the fact he didn't had to argue with her about doing things on his own; he was too old already for that, no gladiator wanted to go through that shame unless they were at the very brink of death. But they had each other's backs, that was for sure; there were nobody else to lean on after all. Ferron trail of thoughts went back to Angron, searching him around with his tired eyes; finding him at the very edge, sitting in a rock and polishing his twin axes that had been with him since the pits. Raising however he could, Ferron made his way to the giant's side and sat down next to him, the man acknowledged Ferron presence and gave him a little nod which the other responded doing the same gesture.

They stood there, in silence, for a while; the sun hid in the sky and the moon was already rising when Angron opened his broken lips to mutter something, between a grumble and a whisper.

"They will come at first light tomorrow" "It would be the most logical thing for them to do, yes" Ferron leaned his head to the side "We will die" Angron hissed as the Nails bit into his head after registering such a thought "With honor Angron, we will not let them have us so easily" Ferron got a bit closer to the giant, his voluminous physique made Ferron look like a child in comparison "Yes, I will have a thousand Kin-guard heads by the time they take me down! I will let their screams echo through the entire valley for generations to come! I, and all of us, will stand until their weapons break before us!" Angron opened his eyes widely, spitting and drooling saliva as his speech raised above a whisper and became a shout to the skies, which whoever was still awake answered with battle cries "That's the spirit! You don't have to worry about anything, we already know it is going to end! If there is something to be afraid of is to fall with no deaths credited to your name!" Angron laughed soundly, his rough and dried voice were stronger and louder than a thunder but it was contagious, Ferron soon joined his friend, slapping his knee and wiping a tear that was rolling down his cheek. They kept on talking of the day ahead, where they would be in the gorge, betting the direction the High Riders would come from and already imagining what their final death count would be. It was a bittersweet moment, knowing how doomed were they yet welcoming that incoming death with open arms, willing to perish instead of letting the slavers capture them and throwing their bodies to the pits once again. No, nevermore would one of those gladiators return to be a slave after all what they had been through, after all of what they had burned in their path and what they had left behind. So they talked, laughed, invited others to the conversation and soon a small group formed around a small campfire, drinking away their last reserves of amasec and food;; smashing the bottles against the floor and then having a small friendly brawl to lower their energies to a reasonable level so they could rest.

As everyone went back to their little corners, Ferron sighed loudly, he had been mentally preparing himself for what he was going to tell Angron, but the man had been avoiding the topic all bloody day out of fear; ironic, Ferron feared more the conversation than dying or any other cruel fate. Before Angron returned to his tent Ferron finally went for it, touching the giant's hand to make him notice the gladiator.

"Yes Ferron? Whatever you need to say friend speak fast, I want to go to bed already" The giant arcade an eyebrow "Is there someone in your heart Angron? Someone special?" Ferron clenched his teeth, mentally punishing himself for being so upfront "Well...all of you! You all are very dear to my heart Ferron, I thought that had been clear the moment I swore to die together!" "No...no...not like that, like...uh...like a very special person; you know, like someone you want to spend all your time with" Ferron shook his head, feeling his heart beating fast "I....don't get it, I spend my time with all of you alrea-" Angron scratched the back of his head, hissing because of the pain "Love Angron, I'm talking if you fucking love someone!" Ferron impatiently raised his voice, then looked to the side blushing "I can't...feel that...the Nails had made sure I will never feel what you all call love...again" Angron sighed, showing his teeth in a sad grimace "And if you could...who would it be?" "I can't, that is-" "Just imagine Angron for fuck sake! Imagine you could feel like that again, who does your heart sing for?" Ferron closed the distance between them, having to look up because of the size difference "From all? Hmrrrhsdsffsfjsk" Angron mumbled something incomprehensible between his teeth "I guess who I am always most excited for fighting with is you, Ferron" "I...I....I feel the same way! Hah I...I can't believe it I am actually saying it....! I love you as well!" Ferron raised his hands to his head, laughing and shaking Angron as he rambled "Oh I have been wanting to say that for days on end but did not know how to pronounce it...!"

"We were free. It was our death. The death we earned, the death we wanted"

The clash was brutal, bodies flew from each side, wailing in pain and drowning in their own blood; the gladiators kept a tight formation just like they had practiced and mastered in each and every encounter, but the "dogs" of Desh'ea had renewed their spirits, used their vehicles to circle around the slaves frontlines and attack their rear, breaking their formation and leaving every last survivor to fend for themselves. Ferron screamed and laughed, butchering any foe he saw with his axe, leaving it in the chest of a Rider and then going for a hammer left in the battlefield by a fallen sister. He swung it above his head, letting the weight crash against armor with force and all the might that he could muster; he spent hours fending off his enemies, bathing in their blood, listening to their dying screams like a musician hears his final composition before retiring from the stages forever. In the midst of it all he saw Angron, making way with his axes, painting the sand with gore and sweat, a giant standing above a growing pile of corpses in all of his glory, a painting come to life. Then there was a flash, a beam of light that engulfed Angron and only Angron, it was foreign, it did not appear like any other weapon from the enemy, this was new, but it wasn't hurting the man in any physical way, instead Angron screamed not out of pain, but fear, anger, sadness; Ferron felt the giant was about to cry. "No....! NO!!!!! DON'T TAKE ME!!!! THIS IS MY BATTLE!!!! MY DEATH!!!! I STAY HERE WITH THEM!!!! DON'T-!" Angron shouted as he stretched a hand out to Ferron, looking in the gladiator's direction "Angron!!!!!" Ferron shouted back at the giant, tearing and cutting down anyone who was in his way, reaching for the hand of the man he loved

Then the beam faded and with it, Angron. Not even a silhouette or a stain of blood in the ground that could tell what destiny had fell upon the giant; just silence, pure nothingness. Ferron felt his heart shattering in a million pieces, he fell to his knees, tears rolling down his cheeks mixing with the blood on his body. Someone stabbed him from behind, the gladiator roared and replied with a blow of his own sending the attacker flying. His rage turned against his slavers, screaming, fighting, spitting, crying...but it was all in vain. A sword pierced his chest, a spear thrusted itself to his leg and a thousand arrows finished the man in an instant. His body wobbled a couple of times to fall once and for all in that gorge, countless others died just like him that day, too few gladiators were actually captured and brought back to the High Riders pits; but the one thing each and every dying men and woman heard that day, the last sound to pass through their ears and get to their brains were the cries of mockery coming from their slavers; all laughing while shouting "Angron Thalk'r left you all to die!"

[sp00kymulderr]

our house of flames

Part 1 - Spark

series masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: M, heavy details of grief, blood, implied canon typical violence, suicidal thoughts, injury, trauma, reader is dealing with death of a loved one, general sadness, kissing. Please let me know if I missed any.

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Years after the outbreak the unthinkable happens and you lose the person who means the most to you. You’ve chosen to give up when Joel Miller finds you and decides to take you in, but is he the best person to help you deal with your grief?

A/N: Whilst this part is M rated, future parts will be very much 18+. This was meant to be v simple pwp but became a different beast entirely oops. If you like it please please comment and/or reblog. To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist

When Joel had found you, you’d thought it was the end.

In some ways you’d hoped it was.

In the years since the outbreak, everything had changed – you’d learnt to fight, to fend for yourself, to trust few and to hold on to those you cared for with everything you had. That was how it had to be now, so different from before. Those people – the ones you loved – had dwindled dramatically over time. Most were lost to the cordyceps, some to hunters or raiders until eventually it was just you and her, your closest friend through life and hell.

You’d spent over a year just the two of you, drifting from town to town looking for somewhere safe, secure, somewhere to rest your heads for more than a few hours. You’d heard rumours of strongholds you desperately wanted to find, but with the infected population increasing by terrifying numbers it was becoming more and more impossible to imagine a haven in this new world.

So while you’d searched and tried not to yearn for what you might find you’d both learnt instead to survive as ghosts, to keep quiet and out of sight – alive and uninfected.

Until you’d made a mistake.

One that cost a life.

Joel had found you blood-stained and afraid, stuck still in a state of shock. You were shivering violently, huddled down next to a body that you couldn’t seem to look at. Blood on your hands, blood on your clothes, it was starting to pool in the snow. The sticky red of it was making you sick. A gun lay thrown to your other side, muzzle partially buried in the snow.

Your breath ragged, puffing out in white clouds as you heaved with panic, and he had looked at you with cold eyes as you shuddered on the icy ground. You were more than sure that he was another threat – another monster – but you were too adrift to run for your life, too lost now to find a way out of this.

You had sobbed, pathetic and broken, and waited for the man to kill you. You thought perhaps it was all you deserved, to die here beside the last person you had cared about. And the man did aim his pistol at you, his first instinct taking over.

Holding up your hands in defeat, those red stained traitorous hands of yours, you watched almost lifeless as he rifled through your pack. You sniffled, the flow of tears streaming steady down your cheeks.

So this was what surviving had gotten you.

“Please” you had sobbed and wiped your cheeks, smearing them red-tinged. He had placed the pack back down having not taken anything from it. You had nothing he needed you guessed. You had nothing, after all.

“Please” again, and truthfully you didn’t know if you were asking him to end your life or spare it.

He’d looked at you then, properly, and you felt you saw pity in the eyes of this stranger. He remained pointing the pistol at you but something had made him hesitate. For a few moments there was only the puff of your still panicked breath, his much calmer and floating above you in disappearing wisps.

“You bit?” he asked, and was clearly relieved when you shook your head. “She was bit, right?” he waved the gun in the direction of the body you dare not look towards.

“She was...she...we were so careful. We were – She just couldn’t outrun them…” you couldn’t say it, not fully, but the missing parts of your words provided the answer for him.

You’d looked up at him then, with wide eyed fear from the horrors you’d seen and watched the man take a long breath, thinking something over.

“I’m sorry” he murmured, hesitant. You braced for the kill shot then, but all that had come was a sigh as he lowered the gun.

He extended a hand, it had shocked you – scared you more than the thought of dying. You flinched, and he just stayed like that, offering his help.

“It’s alright” he muttered “I ain’t gonna hurt you. Looks like you’ve already been through hell” he looked to the scene before him. The blood and the tears and the discarded gun somewhere to your left.

You had finally, nervously, taken his hand and let him pull you up from the ground. You didn’t look behind you, but you saw him eye you and then reach down for your pack and the gun that you never wanted to have to touch again.

“You got anyone else...anyone waiting on you?” he asked, and you saw a sympathy in his eyes when you shook your head timidly.

“Why...why are you helping me?” you questioned cautiously, voice barely there. You had screamed it away.

He didn’t answer, just handed you your pack – but not the gun – and told you “I got a place to sleep, sheltered, gonna be there a few days hopefully before I move on again. You can come with me, while you get your bearings”

“I don’t understand” you stood away from him, wary and confused and he just waited, too calm.

“You’ve been through something. Way I see it, leaving you on your own out here to die – that would be cruel...there’s infected out here, and worse. I’m not blind, you’ve given up fighting – you’re scared and alone. I’ve got enough humanity left in me to know you need help” he had shrugged and started walking.

And maybe it had been foolish, but you followed him. Because what he’d said, how he’d said it, it sparked something in you.

Hope.

If only you’d known how dangerous hope could be.

***

Three weeks later, and you were starting to feel like a person again. Not the person you had once been, no, they were never coming back to you. But more than a husk, with perhaps at least part of your soul intact.

Beyond all odds, the man had spared you. He had helped you, taken you back to shelter and patched you up. Sure, he’d checked you for bites – never quite believing your words for himself – and it had been humiliating to let him inspect you like that but you couldn’t blame him for not trusting you.

Trust was earned, and not often in a world like this one.

“You’re good” he had said, passing your clothes back, and though you hadn’t quite found relief in that you were at least grateful he wouldn’t put you down the way you had had to…

He hadn’t spoken much, in those few weeks between finding you and now. His name was Joel, he had told you between bites of some miserable canned beans, but that was about all you got from him in the first week. Slowly, ever so slowly you had earned tiny snippets of information from him, but it all felt trivial in the shadow of whatever agony he must’ve lived through to be here now. Everyone had gone through something, and he wore his woe like a heavy cloak that he had no choice but to bear.

You learned that Joel was gruff, controlled, clearly capable of enduring on his own, but there was something else to him too – a sadness you knew better than to talk about. A part of him was missing, you could feel it in everything he did and maybe it should’ve scared you but he had saved you, and you would always see that in him first and foremost.

He was ruthless, too. And you realised very soon that you had been lucky in your fate with him. You  learnt quickly of his ferociousness, his base violence, when some raiders had caught up with you and his eyes had gone black – soul leaving him as he did what he had to to survive. You tried not to think about it, about how he surrendered his humanity in those moments of blood and pain and horror and did what needed to be done. He was like another person entirely, you wondered if he even realised it sometimes.

It is all about surviving, though. You see that now, being alone in a way you haven’t been in the last 10 years. The goal now is only to survive, and you could do that with violence like Joels or you could die...or worse. You know in reality he isn’t good, but really what is good now? Does it even really exist? In the time before the outbreak it had all seemed so clear cut but now the morality of good and evil was so blurred and frayed at the edges, the word had so little true meaning to those still breathing. You know he would’ve killed you if he had to, if you had given him a reason, but still it is difficult to be truly scared of his brutality when you know he is the lesser of many, many worse things out there. So maybe you could not call him good, but his heart persists in spite of his wrongs and that matters the most.

Besides, the moments he didn’t have to be steely and cold he happened to be quite nice. Certainly not sunshine and rainbows, but he looked out for you while you travelled together. And even though he was no conversationalist he never once let you feel left completely alone. In his own way, he was kind and caring and full of compassion that he perhaps hid from himself. Every day since meeting you had felt this string of connection forming between the two of you, barely seen thing string but it was there. It felt like you shared something deep, something between your souls that you didn’t expect to find anywhere other than with her. It terrified you.

Every few days, you moved to a new location. He had told you he was travelling north, and you’d said you’d leave him soon but you both knew you weren’t going anywhere, just sticking along for the journey. You had no where else to be after all.

Tonight, you’re staying in another abandoned house in what was once a small, active town. It’s empty, everything is empty, and even though you know no one is coming back to the house it feels like a violation every time you step inside what had once been a home. It makes you shiver, walking through the dark rooms with the dust lining everything, rising and settling as you move through. Once upon a time, not really that long ago at all, the place might have been full of light and dreams and life. And now it is a roof over a head for you and Joel, a place for you to lay your head and pray not to dream or die.

“Hey” you hear him call in that low voice from another room “Boots. Should fit you”

“Score” you make your way to the bedroom, where he’s holding up an old pair of walking boots that, yes, look about your size. They’re tatty but wearable, and your current shoes are in dire need of replacement.

You sit on the bed behind you, sinking on to the soft mattress, and pull off your shoes to try on the others. It feels wrong, but you have to remind yourself no one is ever coming back to claim them. Joel doesn’t seem to have those thoughts, and you envy him for it.

He smiles as you tug on the boots, just a small smile but it sends something jolting through you.

You look at him for a moment, as he busies himself with checking through the rest of the room for any supplies you can use. Joel is handsome, there is absolutely no denying that, even with the dirt and the sweat and the scruff. He looks tired, desperately so, but even so his dark brown eyes have this shine to them, and his smile though rare is a gorgeous thing. You’ve thought about him, of course you have. When you had met you hadn’t noticed it but the more time you spend with him the more you see him. The more you feel for him. He is beautiful.

You feel a pang, and it’s horribly like guilt, as you think of him like that. Is it wrong, so soon after losing someone, to want someone else in your life? It feels wrong, like sin even though doesn’t make sense. You’re relationship with her had been full of love but it had only been platonic, yet it still feels like...like you’re being selfish, letting her go. It feels like a great betrayal and it stabs you through the heart.

In a moment the grief spills like a mighty flood threatening to consume everything in it’s wake. You stop still in tying the laces of the boots as you feel your breathing quicken in panic. There’s a sting in your eyes but know you wouldn’t cry yet. You can’t breathe, but you won’t cry. Can’t cry. You call the tears back in. Those tears are saved for when you are alone; in the moments when you wait for him to come back from a hunt or a scout, when you sit on the forest floor or on a sad, dusty, long-forgotten chair on your own and panic at the feeling of being by yourself. That is the time for misery, not here. Not now.

“You ok?” he turns to you concerned, noticing the change in your demeanour.

You clear your throat and nod, comforted by the way the tone of his deep, sad, voice speak volumes more than his words do. He worries about you, he does. He cares about you, even though he probably doesn’t mean to. It helps, calms you a little.

You’ve both kept your distance for all these weeks, only close when you need to be, but when you don’t answer he comes to sit right besides you. He’s warm. His body is warm. You’ve felt it at night when you share a bed or when he was showing you how to shoot better, but right now he’s just sitting there besides you his shoulder gently bumping yours and you feel the sweep of comforting warmth.

“I’m fine. I just…They’re good boots”

He lets out a grunt of a laugh.

“They must be damn good” he smiles barely but doesn’t press for a real answer.

The grief is a monster that holds you by the throat, and you are relieved he doesn’t make you give name to it.

Joel knows all about not talking about your pain, after all. You feel it every day and every time things get even a little more personal between the two of you as you slowly slowly inch closer together. He’s holding back on something and trying so hard to pretend it’s not there but what he doesn’t seem to realise is it’s always there. In those quiet moment where you’re just sitting, just trying to get through another harsh night.

***

Tonight you agree to share the large bed with the soft mattress in this house that will never again be anyone's home. He never insisted but you agree it’s safer if you’re both trying to sleep that you’re not separated. Usually you’d split a watch shift and sleep alone but you’ve been walking for miles, you’re sore and tired and miserable in your own little ways.

So you share the bed and to being with you keep your ever-dwindling distance as always but tonight...tonight is different. You drift a little closer than before, unintentional but god you just need the comfort of human touch or something right now. Your body begs for it ever since that crashing wave of heartache engulfed you earlier.

You’re filled with the need to erase that feeling. To replace it with something better, something warmer and kinder. It scares you how much you crave to feel his hands on you, how much you want him to wrap his arms around you. It scares you because you’re not even sure if you can face it – intimacy – or the rejection of it.

Still you move closer and you feel him move on his side of the bed...closer or further away? You can’t bring yourself to look.

“Joel?” you whisper after a breath, hoping he’s sleeping.

He kind of grunts a response and you don’t know what to say next so you don’t say anything. The air moves around you in gripping quiet.

“You alright?” he asks in to the silence, the enveloping dark.

He waits for your answer and you lose yourself in his steadiness. How does he do it? How does he manage to appear so composed even when you both know he isn’t? You want to cry or scream or rip your flesh from your bones. Something to stop all this noise in your head.

Silence still and he doesn’t move, doesn’t ask again. You think he’s probably settling back in to sleep and maybe you should just leave him be.

“Does it ever hurt less?” you whisper and your voice shakes. You regret it immediately. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want to talk about things like that, he’s never even brought up the past.

He sucks in a breath, quiet, but doesn’t answer and you curl in on yourself. The desire to run floods you, the desire to be anything but you; to be strong and unaffected and more like him. You feel the prickle of tears in your eyes and it makes you hate yourself, hate your grief and your guilt and her for making you hurt like this.

And then you hate yourself even more.

“I’m sorry, darlin’….Wish I could lie to you but..” he sighs and you feel the shift of the mattress as he turns towards you. After a long pause and what you think is a hitched breath you feel the press of his large hand at your waist. “It’ll hurt forever”.

“How…” you force back the tears “How do you live with it?”

“You keep trying” his voice is thick with compassion and something else, “You find a way”.

You just nod and let him pull you closer, his body curving around yours, the weight of his arm over you making you let out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding. You wipe away those treacherous tears and focus on just the feeling of him. It’s more than you had imagined. More than you’d dared to think about. His breath is warm on the back of your neck and it floods every part of you.

He lets out a sigh that sounds like relief. You feel something in him start to relax, just a little.

You want the pain to go away so desperately, at least for this moment. And so does he.

And so, he turns your head gently, thumb under your chin. You feel it leaving you already, some of the anger and pain. His face is above yours for maybe three seconds that feel like an eternity and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft, his lips are chapped but it doesn’t bother you. The kiss envelops you and the air around the two of you shifts.

Everything is pulled away.

Even if just for the briefest moment, he helps you let it go.

[blank-slate-jay]

In Need

Joel Miller x Male!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

Tags:Angst,Violence(Blood),Comfort, Soft!Joel

Request: "Long story not so short reader's the one to encounter David, he gives Joel the medicine, reader is the one who kills David. Joel and Ellie find him, Joel seeing that he went outside alone, he killed someone for the first time and basically put himself at risk just to take care of Ellie and to prove Joel that he isn't cargo and obviously Joel fucking breaks because the guy he's in love with did all this shit to keep safe the two people he cared for the most and didn't give his life any value even before that. Reader was always behind to warn them if something was gonna attack, or to defendem with his body first and Joel didn't notice until that moment."

A/N: This prompt has a lot of angst and I love it! Has some slow build up so I really hope this is what you wanted anonymous, Enjoy!

“Where, WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!” Joel screamed. His growl was enough to shake the wooden walls and it definitely rattled Ellie, who had her gun pointed at their second hostage tied up against the table.

Joel was furious, with his injury, with the lack of information, and most importantly, your absence. Ellie had told him everything about the raiders, how they came to kill him, how you acted as bait to lure the ruffians away from the town. Ultimately you failed and were captured. He didn’t need to know all the details, just hearing Ellie recite this to him was enough to get him off his deathbed, away from the cold mattress.

The man Joel had in his grasp, screamed out as the knife drove deeper into the man’s knee. “I don’t know…” he cried in anguish. Joel didn’t give a damn, whipping the man’s head back to get him to focus on his words. “Where. Is. He?”Joel's voice is much lower but just as menacing as before.

“They…” the raider muffled, “..there…there’s a town.”

“What TOWN?!”

His screams were enough to cause the second man on the floor to shift, Ellie positions her gun in line with the man’s head. “Leave him alone man, I can tell you where it is. It’s-”

Joel yelled again, “Shut up,” pulling the knife out from the man’s knee. Just on the small table next to him was a map, he grabs it while shoving the knife’s handle into the man’s mouth. “Point to where it is. It better fuckin’ match up with your buddy.”

The man sobs through the handle, with the map being held to his face. He did as told, drawing a line across the crinkled paper. He spits the knife out into his own lap, “There…ok? It should be there, fucking psycho”. Joel looks at the location, Silver Lake. “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Joel's eyes look back at the raider, “David’s probably chopped him up by now,” he laughs.

Joel gritted his teeth, eyes as dark as the night. In one swoop motion he grapples the blade and shoves it against him, receiving a cry from his buddy off to the side. “Noo.”

The other hostage tried moving, as if he could somehow save his dying companion. Ellie of course was on it, “Move again, and I’ll shoot you.”

He tried pleading with them, in a state of hysteria, knowing he might have the same demise. Ellie had her gun, her aim shaky, scared to kill again but ready if it meant less obstacles later.

Joel though didn’t want her doing the dirty work, he was up and by her side, lightly pushing her hand down to lower her aim. “Get the horse ready”, he said with a small hint of guilt in his voice. Joel had insisted she stay hidden in the basement while he interrogated them, instead, she wanted to help. The older man didn’t have it in him to argue with her, between his grogginess and his wounded stomach, it wouldn’t have done him any good. 

This time she did as told, lowering her weapon and walking out of the room. 

Keep reading

Joel’s gaze turns to the man, tightening his fingers. 

“We should’ve blasted you motherfuckers when we had the chance!”

“Maybe you should have,” he says, bringing his knife down onto the man’s skull. 

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

The Silver Lake town was in shambles, people were yelling, people were running for their lives, and some were even fighting each other. Chaos ensued outside from your hiding place. Word got out on what was in their last meal, human remains. The people freaked out and began fighting, guns blazing.

You were sat up behind a counter, a pool of red just inches from you. Trembling at the sight, you tried collecting yourself. It was the first time you killed somebody, someone you couldn’t spare for once. You were moments away from being turned into a dish, what were you supposed to do? The thought made you nearly gag, you didn’t know how Joel didn’t feel the same way after he did the same. Perhaps he did and was just numb to it all. 

It didn’t matter though how you felt, you lived, you survived. You’d get to breathe freely even if it was for another moment. There wasn’t much time to celebrate, as nothing was in the world, because another set of footsteps entered into the massive dining hall. The quickness and sudden entrance made you jerk.

You listen carefully, as the person trailed around the room.

He said your name and you recognized that voice. Fucking David. Shit. He was the last person you wanted to encounter, especially in your hazed state. To some degree your fizzled mind was more alert than ever. After all, you trusted him. He gave you medicine, let you and your friends live; he must’ve had a change of heart. Or his plan to raid your rundown base, kidnap one of you even, was his intention all along. 

He called out for you again, sending a chill up your spine, “I know you’re in here. Why don’t you come on out, we can just work this out. Like ole pals”.

His voice, so condescending he might as well just say he wanted you dead. His voice was far, not enough to calm your nerves. Peering around the counter, through all the chairs and tables, you can make out the movement of a gray door. It swung, with a faint bit of light shining from behind. That was your way out, it had to be. The front door wasn’t an option as that would expose you to David and the mayhem happening just outside. There was probably a window, or even better another door just beyond the one you saw ahead. You needed to leave.

“If you take me to your friends, I’ll let you off scout free. We can forget about this whole mess, start over.”

Yeah right? Like you’d put your faith in him again. After he captured you and put you in a cage, after he ordered his man to cut you up like an animal; like hell you’d trust him.

Hearing David’s steps, slowly trailing around made you move, making sure you were as quick as can be. You kept your distance behind pillars, seats, and small walls; constantly keeping track of him through sound and small glimpses from your hiding spot.

You were now close, hiding behind a a seated booth that hid you from David’s sight and had the backdoor completely in full view. Anyone coming through the door would see you. It was tempting just to run for it. Doing so would alert him, causing you more trouble than you could’ve ask for.

A distraction is what you needed, something to keep him busy for a time. But would do that? A molotov might do the trick, the idea came about while you looked over at the bottle on a nearby table. If only you had a rag and a lighter.

Your knife would have to do, as you prepare yourself for a sneak attack.

————

Joel and Ellie made it, Silver Lake. The place was in shambles, they were caught off by the shouting, the combustion; initially thinking they'd have to sneak their way through a heavily guarded town.

Joel couldn't tell if he'd prefer what he was expecting, or the situation they were in now. There wasn’t time to waste, thinking too hard would just prolong your rescue.

The two kept behind a brick wall, watching and waiting for an opening. Joel’s plan was to search all the buildings that likely had a kitchen or butcher room. They’d have to wait until the gunshots came to a steady, not wanting to get caught in any cross fire.

One last shot rang out, before all that was left was the sounds of the howling winds. It lasted long, and the two gazed at each other before Joel decided to peek around the corner. Only three men remained, at least from what he could see. He could easily take them all with just a few bullets, but his aching stomach would prove to make that difficult.

“Jesus, can’t believe they’d turn on us.”

“Yeah, where the fuck did David go?"

Was there a dispute? Did you cause this? Who cared, not Joel. He just wanted to know if you were alive and well, afraid the ladder was high unlikely and wishful thinking.

Fuck it. He pulls his rifle up, groaning as he lined up his aim. Ellie got herself prepared too, locking eyes with Joel and communicating they’re next action through gaze alone. One of the men were facing away from them, he takes aim before pulling, taking one guy out.

It startles the other two, leaving them confused. It gave Joel time to reload behind cover before coming back out and down went the raider. None of them could hide besides one, who ducked behind the opposite side of the building the two were already hiding behind.

He had his rifle aimed just at the edges of the brick wall, ready to tap the raider the moment he peaked over. Ellie had herself up against Joel, somewhat curious if the coast was clear. His sharp, focused eyes said otherwise.

Just as half of the raider's face came into view, Joel was quick to dispose of the last man with a piercing shot to the face. Falling to the ground, the coast looked to be finally clear. The silence almost seemed threatening, like a trap was awaiting them if they stepped out from their hiding spot. Nothing of course convinced Joel of this other than his own worry. 

“Stay close to me”, Joel instructs Ellie. She nods, taking small steps behind Joel to keep her pace steady for the injured man.

They didn’t have a certain route, just trailing the walls and looking into the windows of buildings as they passed by each one; alleyways included. Joel sporadically looked around, trying to locate you while keeping a lookout for any other threats. Ellie did the same, but kept her eyes out for you. 

Joel, so caught up in the moment, hadn’t realized Ellie’s light steps growing distant by the second.

He turned to her, eyes widening at her recklessness, “Ellie”! She wasn’t listening,her eyes were squinted, investigating the figure just beyond the alleyway. She could have swore she recognized who it was, until she got closer. She gasped. 

Joel calls her name again, this time she listen. 

“Joel,�� she waves her hand over, “It’s y/n”. She ran into the alley leaving Joel to limp his way over to the other side of the street. She could’ve at least helped him, after hearing that you were alive, the man wanted to run but couldn’t. 

He crosses the street, and is parallel with the valley and spots you at the other side, knees deep into the snow; draped in stains of red.

Ellie had already cross the distance in a sprint. She grabs your arms, startling you from your paralyzed state. Looking up from the snow, you were shocked to see Ellie, she was here. How? You had told her to stay and watch out for Joel, now she was here?

You had some questions but decided to hold them off, just wanting to be reminded what a caring embrace felt like. You reach your hand up and Ellie comes down to you with a hug. You could feel your tears welling up, wanting to forget the hell you just experienced.

Hearing a set of steps hit the snow, you snap your gaze to the side. Some of your questions were answered on sight just seeing Joel struggling as he limped over to you. Your tears finally started pouring down your face. "Joel, I fucking did it. I killed someone," your voice quivered.

You're words barely graced the man's ears. He just was happy you were still here, functioning normally too. He drops down to you, cupping your face and making you keep eye contact with him.

When you tried speaking again, it came out disjointed. It was a blend between an explanation and an apology. Yet Joel knew what you meant by the few words that escaped your shaky lips.

The way he treated you up to this point, your dispute weeks ago, the one that shut you down completely; when Joel yelled at you for not defending yourself. He did it out of fear, you nearly got kidnapped for god knows what reason. By then he was fed up with your passiveness, practically calling you useless and nothing more than dead weight.

He very quickly regretted this over the next few days, the lack of any soul in your voice was aching to hear. Ellie was feeling the effects of this too, trying to make small talk with you, but you never had much to say. The raising pain he felt made him feel guilty, believing his actions didn't justify his emotions. You likely we're in greater pain than he was.

Joel ran his fingers across your cheek, wiping away the drops leaving your eyes. You look down, "I'm sorry I...I tried protecting Ellie, and you..."

Hearing your voice was just furthering the wounds in the older man's heart. He shook, his head reminded of his wrongdoings. "No no no..." he pulls your face back up, "Sweetheart, we wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," Joel tried hiding the cracks in his voice. "You saved me, you watched over Ellie, I can't thank you enough. And..." he paused, his guilt coming back into the forefront. "''m sorry, for everythin'. I shouldn't have said any of it, I'd go back and change it in a heartbeat."

His words were touching, as if you didn't have enough to keep your tears flowing. You close your eyes in an attempt to hide yourself, to save the two people you cared about much the trouble of witnessing you break down. A combination of everything you'd suffer through just came crashing down onto you. The embarrassment of appearing weak in front of Joel, wasn't enough to stop your cries.

This time, he wouldn't push you away, not like last time. He pulled you in, his forehead pressing up against yours. He just kept repeating his remorsefulness, each time his voice grew softer until it was a whisper like the wind.

Ellie was also providing you extra security with her head leaning into the back of your shoulder. She would thank you later, with her own words, but she thought it was appropriate to comfort you now. Without you, she'd have no idea how to mend Joel or even handle David. It scared her thinking about doing everything you've done all alone.

You spent some time regaining your composure in Joel's warm palms, reaching up to place yours over his, you didn't realize how numb it had gotten from the freezing cold. You grip them tightly, clearing away the sorrow with a sniff.

"We need to go, okay?"

You took a second but eventually nodded.

Joel nods too in approval, he grips your hands in his own, and stands slowly, pulling you up along with him. Ellie lifts herself on her own accord, giving you some breathing room to physically reconcile with Joel. Seeing him wrap his arm around your back, his chin stuck to the side of your forehead, gave her hope that things going forward between you two would get better.

She informs you, "The horse isn't far," grabbing ahold of you before leading you forward.

Being that close to you, glued to your side, he wish he could tell you how much you meant to him. With the nightmare you just experienced, dropping something heavy like that would have to wait, you’d been through more than enough.

For once he was just happy, to finally make up with the man he loved, dearly.

[a-lonely-dunedain]

75 free choice!!

#75 "hope"

ok here we go, followup to this one here wherein Celeair got electrocuted! (oops.) As an apology I humbly offer a Worried Margim, Celeair getting a hug, and things being mostly not-terrible for them <3 (besides the whole "why the f does the Dragon Clan have lightning Worms now???" issue, but that's a problem for another day)

(also warning ahead for probably medically inaccurate deceptions of what the aftermath of a lightning strike looks like I guess? whatever it was magic lightning anyway I can do what I want and say it just behaves differently from natural lightning. It’s my weird lightning Worm I make the rules.)

-------

Margim stands outside the healer’s hut beneath the roof’s overhang, which is just large enough to shield her from most of the rain. Not all of it, but that hardly matters, the storm broke when she was rushing Celeair back here and she hardly even noticed how thoroughly drenched she is, her thoughts far too occupied with whatever might be happening inside.

She desperately wanted to be in there at Celeair’s side, but more than that she did not want to risk getting in the way. As much as she hated to admit it, there wasn’t anything she could do to help. Her hands are violent things not meant for healing. She looks down and notices they are still stained deep red with the mingled blood of the raiders and that vile Worm which somehow put Celeair in this state. She killed them, and it wasn’t enough. She did the only thing she’s good for, and still failed to protect him. It is probably not possible for her to feel any more useless at the moment.

Gwen and Cianán, Lhan Tarren’s other two resident healers, said they had everything in hand, and she tries to take some comfort in that, but she could not help but notice they did not yet say that Celeair was going to be alright. It was too soon to know for certain, and she feels like the worry is eating her from the inside out.

She learns her head stiffly against the wall and stares very sharply at nothing in particular. She tries not to think about how she would feel if he dies. She tries not to think about losing the one who led her out of the darkness, losing her light, her Celeair. She tries very hard not to think about the possibility of never hearing his voice again, never holding him in her arms again, never getting the chance to marry him-

She is so occupied by all these things which she is not thinking about that she fails to notice another person standing next to her, that is until they clear their throat to get her attention, causing Margim to flinch.

“Relax Mar, it’s just me.” Elain assures with a smile, but her eyes are alight with worry.

“Oh. I did not see you there.” Margim mutters, looking away.

“I noticed, you seemed far too occupied with trying to burn a hole in the sky with your gaze... Are you alright?”

Margim does not answer. The sky rumbles again.

“...Is Celeair alright?”

“I do not know.” she says quietly, her voice betraying some helplessness she would have rather remained hidden.

“What happened to him? Er, if it’s even alright to ask,” Elain hastily adds, rubbing the back of her neck. She didn’t want to pry, but she couldn’t help but be concerned by all the commotion earlier when Margim returned with an unconscious Celeair and scarcely said a word to anyone before rushing into the healer’s hut. Strangely, no one had to fetch Gwen, as she was already there seemingly expecting them. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it-”

“Would that I knew what befell him! Truthfully I am nearly as much in the dark as you are.” She thinks to stop there, but Elain is still looking at her. Margim gives a resigned sigh. Really, by now she should know better than to give Elain vague answers, it only makes her more curious.

“He had been attacked by a Worm of a breed I have never seen before. Well I say attacked, for he was unresponsive when I got to him, but he bore no visible injuries, not so much as a scratch... though he seemed to be in a great deal of pain nonetheless.” She almost winces at the memory “As I carried him back here I noticed strange red marks beginning to appear all along his arms, blistering in places as if they were burns, but they had a distinct branching pattern unlike any burn I have ever seen. They reminded me of the branches of trees, or frost forming over water.”

“Could it be some sort of poison then?”

Margim shakes her head, “Possibly, but I know not how. Cianán seemed to recognize what it was, but his reaction... did not fill me with confidence.” To his credit, Cianán mastered his shock quickly after he saw the marks on Celeair, but it was there nonetheless, and when a seasoned healer reacts in such a way it is never a good sign. “Regardless, there is nothing more I can do...”

“Do not be so hard on yourself,” Elain puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, “you’ve already done a great deal just by getting him back here and to the people who best know how to help him.”

“I did everything I could, and yet it might not be enough,” she remarks bitterly.

“But it just as easily could be enough. It is too early to lose hope.”

Margim is silent for a long moment “...I can only hope that you’re right.”

The rain seems to be coming down a little harder, the roof’s small overhang now does little to shield them from it.

“I appreciate the company Elain, truly, but you do not have to stay out here.”

Elain scoffs “And leave you to sulk in the rain all on your lonesome? What sort of friend would I be if I let that happen?”

“One who will not catch her death of cold.” She says plainly. Elain laughs, but stays put at Margim’s side. And so the two of them sulk there in silence for a while getting half-drenched by the rain.

Some have said that it was strange for the two of them to have befriended one another. Elain’s boisterousness and natural curiosity should have found little in common with the grim and quiet Margim, and yet the two are piratically inseparable. Elain found her intriguing, and Margim found that she is drawn to people who are very much unlike her. So despite the fact that she would rather Elain be dry at home, Margim finds herself glad for the company; it at least makes it a little harder to think about how worried she is.

It is a while still before Gwen, a young woman with stark white hair and large pale eyes, pokes her head out of the door, “Margim-” she starts,

“Did something happen? Is Celeair alright?”

“It is good news, don’t worry.” She assures is her usual small voice, it is a little hard to hear her over the rain, “we’re now certain he will recover. He has not woken up just yet, but likely will soon, you should come inside.”

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

There is a sudden crack of thunder and Celeair awakes with a start, sitting up despite his body screaming in protest, chest tight and breathing in shallow rapid heaves. Where is the great black Worm? His eyes dart around the room frantically for it, expecting it to crawl out from any shadow. He heard it, must be here. He finds only cots and healing supplies, a crackling firepit, and the sound of rain pattering outside. His head is spinning too much to recall how he got here, all he knows is that he was about to be eaten by that terrible creature- But then a strong arm wraps around his shoulders, steadying him.

“Easy, you’re alright,” Margim’s voice washes over him like cold water, suddenly bringing him back to his senses. That’s right, she came for him in time. He collapses into her arms out of equal parts exhaustion and relief, his face buried in her soft fur mantle. It’s still damp from the rain, but he’s hardly inclined to care. If she is here then the Worm must be dead, and the raiders too. He’s safe.

“By the stars am I glad to see you...” he mumbles into her shoulder.

Margim says nothing, just quietly holding him for a little bit before gently lowering him back onto the cot. Her arm still remains behind him supporting his head, and her other hand gently laid over his chest as to still keep him in a half-embrace while she sits beside him.

“It is good to see you awake,” he hears Gwen say from somewhere nearby “how are you feeling?”

He takes a deep breath and says weakly "Everything hurts," quite an understatement "but I’m alive." As a healer it always feels strange to be on the other side of this exchange.

“You gave us quite a fright, my friend...”

“Well, it was not for nothing-” Celeair slowly props himself up to better see. He winces as his arms greatly protest the effort, stinging with a hundred needles at every movement, but he persists nonetheless. “I think my satchel is over there, could you open it for me?” Gwen does so, and from it retrieves a bundle of pungent green leaves with white tips.

“Cloudwort!” she exclaims “We feared it was too early in the season for it, but you actually managed to find some!”

Celeair manages a half-chuckle, a triumphant look on his face “And it only almost cost me my life! I do hope it’s enough...”

“I think it will be,” she assures “we only need a small amount for the antidote. I must bring this to Cianán right away.”

“Would that I could help you administer it...”

“You’ve done more than enough already by finding this, just rest for now.” she looks at Margim “Do make sure he actually stays down, would you?” Margim nods. Celeair suspects that she will not let him out of her sight for the foreseeable future, and finds he is not at all bothered by the prospect.

As Gwen leaves Celeair lets his head flop back down, his strength utterly spent.

Every inch of his body aches as though he ran across the entirety of Dunland. Twice. It is a wonder he is still alive, he thinks, but decides it might be best not to say such out loud, as Margim is clearly worried enough as it is. She does not show it openly, but he’s developed an eye for such things.

For one thing, she hasn’t said more than three words this entire time, which is quiet even for her. And despite the fact that she is normally very reserved with physical affection, she has been unable to take her arms off of him, so those are some good indicators.

With great effort he moves his hand to hers where it lays on his chest, gently entwining their fingers. It hurts greatly to put any pressure on his hands right now, but this, he decides, is more important.

“I killed the Worm that attacked you,” Margim says after some time, “but I... still do not understand exactly what it did to you.”

Celeair simply looks at the ceiling, truthfully he’s unsure of exactly what happened himself, and even less sure of how to describe it “I think...” he eventually says “I was struck by lightning. I know not how, but that Worm was imbued with the power of storms, and shot lightning from its mouth. No doubt some new sorcery devised by the Wizard...”

“I thought I heard thunder as I fought off the raiders, but I assumed it was from the encroaching storm...” She says in quiet amazement, “If Saruman has granted such power to the Driag-Lûth then things are about to become much more dire for us.”

“You slew this one, and I’ve no doubt you can slay the rest.” he manages a smile “That is, assuming there are any more of them to begin with, it might have been the only one of its kind.” He tries to remain optimistic, but he knows it’s a slim chance. If that was truly the only such Worm in existence, it would be in the keeping their leader or someone else of high standing in the clan, not a small raiding party harassing the remote reaches of Trum Dreng.

Despite this, Celeair prays that there are no more of these creatures, because if there are, he is going to have to master the complex art of lightning channeling very quickly. He looks down at the fractal burns along his arms, a clear mark that he has much still to learn, and no one to teach him.

“I hope so...” Margim mutters, understanding just as well as he does how unlikely it is “but we cannot assume, lest it be our undoing. If we are lucky, perhaps Gwen will be able to warn us about it...” But the Stag-Clan has never been particularly lucky, in fact one could easily argue that they have been the unluckiest clan in all of Dunland. Yet, they also have a history of finding help unlooked for in their darkest hours, bringing them back from the edge of destruction numerous times in the past, so despite being the weakest and smallest of the clans they persist still. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say they are simultaneously the unluckiest and the luckiest clan in Dunland. It has been hard, but they are still here, which is more than could be said of some others.

Celeair breathes a humorless laugh “It would be funny, were it not so unfortunate. I risk life and limb to retrieve an antidote for the Dragon-Clan’s poison, only to find this new horror in the process...” He cannot help but wonder how likely it is that, if and when he becomes proficient in lightning channeling, the moment he does so the forces of Isengard will suddenly unveil another, more terrible weapon to turn upon the people of Trum Dreng. ‘One thing drives out another’, as someone Celeair does not know famously said at some point.

"Whatever happens next, we will endure." Margim says quietly

"Of course we will," he smiles softly "we always do."

He decides tomorrow's worries can wait until tomorrow. For now, he must simply be grateful that he is alive and Margim is here at his side, for so long as that remains true he cannot lose hope. He turns his head to rest against Margim's arm and finally closes his eyes, content and secure. Sleep takes him soon after.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Wait a second what are we doing with Lu Ten in Miraculous Gaang?

Is he alive? I know he got like really sick at one point, but are we letting him live? If so, how old is he and what is his relationship to the Gaang? Because I imagine him being quite a bit older and seeing the Gaang as his much younger siblings that he has to mentor. He's probably away at university during most of the events of this, but Zuko and Azula call him in to save their hides for some of their civilian problems. Assuming he's alive

And how did he get sick? Did he like use the peacock or did he just get really ill and it woke Iroh up to the fact that he was being kind of a neglectful parent?

Also, other named kids you can use for miraculous if you want:

Song, the chick that saved Iroh from poisoning, tried to bond with Zuko over being hurt by the fire nation, and then he stole her ostrich horse

June, but she's probably a bit older than the rest of the crowd, maybe even Lu Ten's age.

On Ji, the girl that Aang talks to when he goes to Fire Nation school and consequently gets into a fight with her boyfriend Hide.

Shoji, another kid from the fire nation school, very nervous type.

Chan, the guy that Azula tries to flirt with in The Beach, and then they burn his house down.

Meng, Aunt Wu's assistant who keeps trying to flirt with Aang in The Fortuneteller, and who gets utterly blown off, only to eventually tell Aang at the end of the episode that Katara is really pretty and they deserve each other, and also gives them the cloud-reading book for their plot (because she's been stalking Aang, and HEY that's on brand for ML).

Of this selection, the only ones I have any particular attachments to are Meng and Song. I think I'd give Meng the goat if we keep your usual Dreamwalking powers, due to her fortune teller associations. Song could honestly have any of them, but I'm leaning Dog. But yeah, it's interesting that most of the Gaang's allies seem to be adults. Between the white lotus, various world leaders, and assorted other Randos, the significant adults in this show probably outnumber the significant children.

Yes! So!

We decided that since this is taking place in a Miraculous-esque Universe, a chunk of people get to live. Like, there's no war fucking up the world and we're axing the Bending (like if they had Bending on top of the Miraculous then OOF.) and also this is a modern world with better healthcare capabilities.

So yeah some people live. Lu Ten was never on the frontlines of a war. Kya never had to protect Katara from raiders looking for a Waterbender. Yue won't have to sacrifice herself to save the Moon Spirit, etc.

Not to say everything's perfect because there's going to be injuries and close calls and some of these fuckers can get killed off.

So since I can change things and let characters live, I am!

Anyway. Lu Ten!

So we're going with some kind of car accident type deal for him. He was in a coma for a few months. (During this we had the drama of Iroh falling apart with worry, Azulon 'dying', Ozai taking over the family company, and Ursa disappearing).

He's alive but has some medical problems. Mostly mobility issues. Usually in a wheelchair, though he can use a cane for short distances if needed. His hands are bad too, but he can still get stuff done.

He's a good decade older than the Gaang. Like in his mid-to-late 20s.

Between the age and mobility thing he's probably not getting a Miraculous himself (I mean the mobility isn't stopping Teo but he's the 'I'm gonna use the Miraculous Transformation to give my wheelchair jet rockets and fly' type of guy).

He's very much the older brother figure! Especially once Zuko gets kicked out.

As for the other character suggestions!

June is too old for the group, as much as I love her. Ji, Shoji and Chan never vibed with me. Song vibed with me more but we're also getting to the 'wow huh there's not a lot of kid characters that consistently appear huh?'.

Meng is actually a great idea and I love the Dreamwalker thing I'm keeping that.

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Peace Offerings Pt.4

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: Joel and Reader pack up Bill's truck and get back on the road. After Reader is hurt in a raider attack in Pittsburg, Joel attempts to comfort her. Then the two seek out a safe place to sleep for the night: on the 33rd floor of a high rise apartment building.

Series Warnings: Slow burn, 18+ Minors DNI, Sexual Themes, Violence, Injuries (depictions of blood, bruising, broken bones), Grumpy!Joel, Minimal depictions of reader's appearance (hair color/length.)

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Four

The next morning, I helped Joel load up Bill’s truck as the battery charged. We took everything we would need, and everything we could fit. Joel started off the drive, and I was in charge of the map. I’d done this for my parents for every roadtrip since my brother couldn’t be trusted to pay attention. I stayed focused, making sure to not worsen the tension between us by steering him wrong. 

We approached the city. Its condition was almost identical to the Boston QZ, except for one thing: No FEDRA. “That’s not a good sign.” I mumbled to myself as Joel backed the truck away from the congested tunnel. “No shit.” He replied. We drove around the tunnel and through some smaller, more narrow streets. I could tell Joel was stressed, and he became even more so when a young guy limped out into the street while waving his hands and screaming “Help! Please help!” Joel sped up and I gripped the door handle and the center console, “What are you doing?” I asked panickedly. Joel pressed his foot farther down on the pedal and sped towards the guy. I closed my eyes and braced for impact, but it never came. I looked back to see the damage, but the guy was walking away without a limp. “Those were raiders.” I realized. “Yea, and we’ve gotta get the fuck out of h-” Joel’s words paused when he saw another man drop a barrel straight onto the windshield of the truck. 

“Belt off, now!” I heard Joel call as the truck crashed into a storefront. I looked down and saw shards of broken glass scattered across my abdomen. I gasped and moved to take my seatbelt off, but as I reached down I ran my hand straight into a huge shard sticking up between the seats. I yelped in pain, and saw Joel run to my side of the truck. He practically ripped the door open and leaned over me to undo my seatbelt. “You okay?” He asked as his eyes scanned my face. “My hand,” I said as I lifted it up to show him. “Shit. Okay come on.” He pulled away and helped me out of the truck. We covered our heads with our backpacks as we ran to the nearest source of shelter. My hand stung as I dug through my pack to find extra ammo while Joel kept a lookout. 

We heard men approaching and hurried to press our backs against the truck. I looked at Joel, his eyes were wild. They had the same look as when he beat the shit out of the FEDRA gaurd back in Boston. He looked at me and quickly looked back down to my gun. “Hey! We know you’re back there. You can come on out with your hands above your head.” A man’s voice called out. Joel looked at me and shook his head. I kepted still, and waited for my next demand. All of a sudden, Joel stood and began shooting at the men. I did the same alongside him, and took out two of the three. Once we thought we were clear, we turned around and headed for the door in the back of the shop. Before we could reach it, the door burst open and a teenage boy appeared screaming. He held a baseball bat above his head and wielded it wildly. He saw me and aimed, but a shot rang out, and more screaming filled the air. “Please! Please my mom will give you whatever you want if you don’t kill me. Please.” He begged. Joel stood over him, and I watched. “Joel, he’s a kid.” I whimpered. He looked at me, and his eyes widened. I felt two hands grab onto my shoulders and I was yanked back. My body slammed into a taller, more muscular form, and I felt the cold metal of a gun pressed against my head. “Let him go, or Kathleen won’t be happy.” the man holding me demanded. I struggled against his grip, but there was no point, I wasn’t getting out of his hold. The man’s hand moved from my neck, his fingers never left my body as he slid his hand over my breasts down to my torso, then settling it into the curve of my hips. “Got yourself a pretty one, don’t you? It’d be a shame if I took her for myself.” He purred. My stomach turned sour and my cheeks burned with anger. Joel’s face twisted in disgust, “Get your fuckin’ hands off of her.” He growled. “You get your hands off the boy first.” My free hand felt around my thigh for the knife I had strapped onto it. I breathed out in relief when my fingers grasped the wooden handle. I pulled it out slowly, then as soon as my grip on it was good, I jammed it into his thigh. He let out a gutteral scream, and his grip on me loosened. I jumped away from him, flinging my body to the floor. Joel fired two shots into his chest, and the huge man crumpled to the ground. 

I sat up and shook off whatever had just happened. Joel kept his gun trained on the kid who was slowly losing his strength, but his eyes were locked onto me. “You o-” He started to ask, but I cut him off as I stood up, “I’m fine.” He nodded and turned his attention back to the boy. His eyes had closed and his chest was no longer moving. I swallowed back the tears that were forming in my eyes and picked my backpack off the ground. “We need to move.” I said before opening the back door of the shop and exiting into the alleyway. Joel followed me. 

We broke into another vacant store to recuperate for a second. I slid down the wall and onto the floor, folding my legs against my chest and Joel sat on a desk across from me. He was checking how many bullets he had in his gun, but his eyes kept drifting over to my crumpled up form. I had been staring vacantly at the floor. “Better get that hand wrapped up.” He said as he gestured to my shaky, blood covered hand. I picked bit up and looked at it, reminded of the injury. My mind had been so focused on the way the man touched me. The places his hands violated, though not injured, hurt worse than the slice taken out of my hand. I wanted to shed my skin. Just slough it off in one piece and walk away. I nodded and reached into my backpack for a roll of bandaging that I’d stolen from Bill’s medicine cabinet. I sucked air through my teeth as I finally felt the pain of the wound while wrapping the bandage tightly around it. Once I’d tied off the wrapping, I shoved the roll back into my pack. My eyes lifted and met Joel’s. He was staring at me with a look I’d never seen before. It was soft, almost resembling pity. “Are you okay?” He asked again. I raised my hand in front of me to show him the bandage, “Yup.” I sighed. “No… like…” He groaned, clearly tripping over his words, “He shouldn’t have touched you that way. That’s all.” I swallowed, becoming uncomfortable with the vulnerability Joel had seen from me, then spoke, “Not much we can do about it now. After fighting for so long, women are back to being pieces of meat.” I mumbled. His brows furrowed, he wasn’t a fan of that sentiment, “That’s happened to you before?” He questioned, his eyes following me as I lifted myself off of the floor. “No personal shit. You said so yourself.” I grunted as I walked over to the window to peer out into the street. Joel remained quiet, tending to the bruise from his words being thrown back at him.  

The truck was not drivable. Kathleen’s men had looted it, leaving nothing behind. Joel and I decided to find a place to hunker down for the night while we figured out what to do next. We’d found what looked to be a high rise apartment building. We climbed 33 floors before we were both desperately gasping for breath. “Jesus, I thought I was in shape.” I coughed as we both sat on the floor with our backs to the wall. Joel was wheezing so hard he was unable to answer. I pulled my canteen out of my bag and handed it to him. He took a few sips and closed his eyes in relief before handing it back to me. I did the same. 

Once we had our breaths back, we began to make ourselves comfortable. I lined up couch cushions to act as beds, and Joel broke glass and sprinkled it all around the entrance of the room in order for us to hear any intruders. I laid down in the makeshift bed and sighed loudly as my aching back settled into the soft cushions. Sleep was not far away, but before my eyes fully closed, Joel spoke, “Make sure I stay on this side. I’m deaf as shit in my other ear.” I raised an eyebrow, “Uh…Okay?” He pressed his lips together, “From shootin’.” I nodded in understanding and returned to my back. Though the information was minimal, it was yet another peace offering. I decided to accept it and offer another in return, “G’night, Joel.” He opened his eyes and grunted, “G’night.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the length of this one ! You know what that means though.... next part is going to be GIRTHY ;)

Next Part | Masterlist

[flippyspoon]

Bleeding Out

Note: Trektober ficlet! TOS Spirk. This is for the prompt: hiding injuries!

How the hell…

Truth be told, Jim had no idea where the blow came from, only that he’d fought his way past two armed guards and was aiming his phaser at a third when he looked down and saw a short sword sticking out of his side which, he supposed, was maybe better than a sword sticking out of his heart. But really, he’d have preferred no swords sticking out of him at all. He still managed to fire his phraser at the third guard before glancing around, dazed, looking for the sword sticker. But there was no one. So one of the guards he’d taken down had managed to stick him before they hit the floor. 

Perfect.

All that had taken seconds and only after that did the pain hit and he gasped, slumping against an iron gate.

Spock was so close. All he had to do was get to Spock and they could beam out. No problem.

…That was assuming Scotty had repaired the transporter. Otherwise, they’d have to make for the forest where the other half of their team waited in a hidden shuttle.

He was still dressed in the garb of the planet’s culture. They were a planet of space raiders, mainly. And somehow, one of those raiders had gotten their paws on some very classified Starfleet tech. Well, Jim had the tech and some war lord had Spock.

Jim took a deep breath and yanked the sword out of his side all at once, falling back against the stone wall and clutching the wound that gushed blood all over his hands. He took off the thick scarf he’d worn wrapped around his head and tied it snugly around his stomach, knotting it in back as tightly as he could stand. He would bleed through quickly. He covered his makeshift bandage with the thick cloak he wore, pulled the hood up over his head and staggered down the cavernous hallway to the spiral stairs which led to the dungeon where Spock was held.

His wound was agonizing. He ducked into an alcove for a moment to compose himself. He was dripping with sweat already. He flipped open his communicator. 

“Kirk to Enterprise. Scotty…tell me the transporter’s back online.”

“I’m sorry, Captain-”

“Scotty…” Kirk shut his eyes, pressing his hand to his side. “I’ll have Spock in a minute. We need to energize-”

“The interference from this ion storm is wreakin’ havoc, sir! If I could do it, I would!”

“Right…Well. We’ll just have to make it to the shuttle. Kirk out.”

Jim considered, sorted, and settled on his options in the space of approximately six seconds.

If he was careful, he could get Spock to the shuttle. If he was extremely lucky, he would hang on through the rough ride in an ion storm back to the ship. Most likely, he would bleed out and die before they even made it to the shuttle.  And dying would slow Spock down because Spock would do something very stupid (that he would claim was perfectly logical) just to stay with him and probably get himself killed.

Ideally, he would convince Spock to go on without him, conjure up some reason he had to stay on while covering up a grave injury. Spock wouldn’t go for that in a million years.

There was only option 1. He had to get them to the shuttle. Which meant conserving his strength. On the plus side, adrenaline was doing wonders as he made his way down the narrow corridor to the dungeons, clutching the ring of keys he’d swiped off the gatekeeper before knocking him out. Maybe adrenaline could get him all the way back to Galileo 7 in the woods.

“Spock, I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath. 

Around the corner from Spock’s cell, Jim conjured up all his energy and considerable charm and headed in.

“Mr. Spock.” He put on an easy smile as he unlocked the cell door. “Didn’t think you could get out of gamma shift tonight that easy, did you?”

“Captain, you are, I believe the Terran expression would be, a sight for sore eyes.”

“Holy Moly, Mr. Spock, indulging in Terran idioms? What’ve they done to you?” Kirk crossed the cell to Spock, just barely managing not to stagger, but as Spock came out of the shadows and stepped into the candlelight, his expression fell. Spock’s face was bruised and battered, his peasant shirt stained green.

Kirk’s jaw clenched. “Spock, you’re-”

“I am not badly hurt, Captain. They assumed I absconded with the data drive. You know, this society of medieval culture and advanced technology is rather fasci…”

Kirk stumbled just as they were making their way out of the cell, and Spock tilted his head, perusing him. Kirk attempted to stand-up straight, clutching the bars of the cell for support as he stepped into the corridor, but his breathing was too labored and Spock’s eyes too sharp.

“You’re injured, Captain?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Jim said, lightly. “Turned my ankle is all. Walkin’ funny.”

Jim took Spock’s arm, maintaining a light touch, gaining just enough support that he could keep his balance as they quickly made their way back upstairs, hopefully before the other guards caught on. 

They still had to get up the stairs, back out to the bailey (blessedly unmanned with a festival in full swing in the gardens), out a side door, down under the overly populated bridge and through the water, and across a field to the forest.

Jim now predicted he might make it as far as the bridge. He could feel hot blood spreading fast.

“Transporter’s out.” He had to breathe carefully if he wanted to speak. “We gotta make for the shuttle. Then…then get it through an ion storm. So that’ll be fun.”

“Captain…”

“C’mon, hurry,” Kirk said, impatient. “Go go go, Spock. That’s an order.”

He could not slow, he could not falter. If Spock discovered Jim’s injuries, he would miss his chance to get out. Kirk was getting lightheaded, but one thought pulsed in his mind and heart above all other concerns besides the safety of the ship (already well out of the ion storm’s way): save Spock, keep Spock safe, Spock must live…

Spock followed Kirk’s lead all the way to the bridge. They would have to scurry under it, which meant crossing the sludgy water beneath, about a quarter kilometer. But they ducked behind a low stone wall under the road beside the river, nearly seen by a few marching guards.

Still, the sun had set. They had darkness and shadow on their side, at least.

But Jim was trembling, and he couldn’t stop.

Save Spock…keep Spock safe…

He made the mistake of taking Spock’s bare wrist in his hand, intending to get to his feet again. 

But Spock’s eyes flashed, and he looked at Jim.

“Jim.”

Jim gathered the vestiges of his strength, but he could not get the words out. “Sp-Spock I’m…you…have to…” He forgot what he was going to say and fell back against the wall. His eyes were much too heavy.

He felt Spock pull back his cloak. “I…order you to…just take the…data drive…leave me…go.”

“I cannot,” Spock said.

But there is no logic to that. His mind was increasingly muddled, but he was pretty sure he was right. Their mission was to retrieve the data drive. He had it in his pocket. He fumbled, grabbing for it and held it out, hardly able to raise his arm. “It’s…here it…”

Jim knew Spock had sensed the seriousness of his injury when he touched his skin, his pain and fear, and certainty of death. Spock surely knew how this ended.

Jim knew Spock cared for him. There was no doubt about that. 

But still, he was a committed officer. The mission had to come first.

Kirk was still trying to figure this out while strong arms lifted him under his legs and around his back, as Spock picked him up bridal style. But Spock’s right arm carried Jim slightly awkwardly so that his hand reached Jim’s face, his wrist turned awkwardly, his fingertips pressed to Kirk’s cheek and chin and temple. Jim felt the touch, warm, so familiar and comforting, and humming with a gentle energy. He clung to it, if only because Spock’s touch, skin to skin, could be so rare. At least he could take that with him when he died. One last touch.

Insubordinate, Jim thought as his consciousness faded. You’re in big trouble, mister. You can’t…please…I love you… you mustn’t…

He heard Spock speaking as he carried Jim down to the water, felt muscles clenching as he held Jim’s head above the icy current.

“T’hy’la, take my strength… Beloved, feel me, feel this bond, take this strength from me, please Jim…”

***

Jim stirred, hearing voices, comforting voices that he followed from the darkness.

“They’re gonna write folk songs about it!” McCoy was laughing. “Ensign Perez told me everything! The great Vulcan warrior carrying the captain to whom he is so devoted in his arms as he fights his way through half a dozen swordsmen!”

“There were no more than five swordsmen,” Spock said evenly. “And I was armed with a phaser. I shed no blood. I simply carried the captain to a waiting shuttle and dealt with a few obstacles along the way . Hardly the stuff of legends.”

“And stubborn as a mule, as always,” Bones said, rolling his eyes. “Can’t even take a compliment, can he? Oh look, our friend the damn pin cushion is waking up.”

Kirk opened his eyes, expecting McCoy on his feet to his left, and Spock in a chair to his right, which was usually the case when he woke up in sickbay.

Except that Spock too was lying in a biobed, wrist fitted with a cuff hooked up to a screen reading out his vitals. He looked much paler than usual, though the evidence of his dungeon beatings had vanished.

“Spock, what’s the matter with you,” Kirk muttered.

“Oh, brother.” McCoy rolled his eyes heavenward. “Typical! Man touches death with both hands, gets yanked back, and still he’s more worried about the science officer in the tight pants. I don’t know what else I expected.”

“Doctor,” Spock said darkly.

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Bones cleared his throat and glared down at Jim, who ignored him as he stared at Spock. “James, sir, your friend here did a nice bit of Vulcan wizadry via some kind of sacred soul mate love bond between you two I’m not supposed to talk about and Bob’s your uncle! You’re alive and he was half dead by the time you two made it to the shuttle. I will step out now and leave you two alone. I find out anybody left their bed, I will take a damn life and it will all have been in vain!”

McCoy took his leave with one last scowl at the both of them and Jim and Spock were left to themselves.

Jim took a deep breath and shifted in his bed to gaze at Spock more easily.

“Excuse me… Sacred soul mate love bond?” He couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face, especially at Spock’s subtly sheepish expression.

“I…intended on informing you of this connection,” Spock said slowly. “I have been aware of it for some time. I was not… I did not know how you would receive this information.”

“Oh…” Kirk nodded, as if seriously considering this. “I think I would have said something along the lines of, so what else is new.”

“You…are not surprised by this?”

“You’ve told me a few things about these Vulcan relationship bonds,” Jim said. “And I’ve known there was this strong connection between us. Something more than friends or captain and XO or even family, yet all of that too. So no, it does not surprise me.” He did not hide the beaming smile that grew on his face. “You’re everything to me, Spock.” “T’hy’la,” Spock murmured.

“Yes.” Kirk nodded. “What does that mean?”

“It is…as you said.” Spock’s mouth quirked,the slightest sign of some inward decision. “It means you are everything to me too, Jim.”

“The second I can get out of this bed, mister…”

“I would not risk it with McCoy outside the door.”

“That’s alright,” Jim whispered. “I’ll just lie here for now. I just want to look at you for a while. That alright with you?”

“If it pleases you, Jim,” Spock said.

[letthewhumpbegin]

Those Hands - The Last of Us

Fandom: The Last of Us Characters: Joel Miller, Ellie Williams Prompt: This was written for the prompt "Bloodied Knuckles" off my @badthingshappenbingo card. (Card at the bottom of this post) Word count: 1313 Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and injuries to hands.

They had made it out alive, but only just. A simple supply stop at a seemingly abandoned petrol station, turned sideways when Joel and Ellie ran into a duo of raiders.

The first of the raiders was caught off guard by their presence and Joel fairly easily managed to shoot him. But with his weapon jamming after that first shot, and the second raider now aware of them, Joel had no other choice than to finish things with his bare hands.

In the end, Joel didn't remember how many punches he threw. He eventually had the raider worked onto the ground, and after that he saw red. All he could think of as he punched his fists down again and again, was Ellie. If he lost this fight, she would be all alone, and that was something he would not allow to happen.

Joel hadn't lost control over himself like this in a long while, and he only stopped his punches once the raider had long stopped moving underneath him. Joel sat breathing hard, looking down at his bloodstained hands. He had forgotten what it felt like to kill a person, instead of an Infected, and it was a feeling he surely could have done without ever experiencing again.

"Joel...?" He was pulled out of his trance by Ellie's voice sounding from behind him. Joel slowly rose to his feet and turned around to face Ellie. He knew she had seen all of this and he could only imagine what she must be thinking of him now.

Ellie looked back at him with a look of utter shock and disbelief portrayed on her face. From her wide eyes to the single tear track across her cheek, everything told Joel that Ellie was definitely upset from what she had just witnessed. And quite frankly, Joel scared himself with this sudden outburst of violence as well.

"Car." Joel growled the single word, and maybe for the first time since they met, Ellie obliged him without protest or backtalk.

---

The car ride was spent in silence. Ellie wasn't quite comfortable with the speed with which Joel drove, but she didn't dare say something about it. Everything about Joel currently emanated for Ellie to keep her distance and let him be. From his bloody hands clamped around the steering wheel to the muscles of his forearms flexed to their max, and from his tightly set jaws to his iron gaze at the road ahead, nothing invited Ellie to even utter a single word.

They drove for little over an hour, when Joel suddenly steered the car onto a path leading into a forest. Every day they sought the cover of the trees for the night, but daylight wasn't even fading yet now. They drove deeper and deeper into the forest, until a creek blocked their way and they could go no further.

Joel wordlessly switched the engine off and got out of the car. He nearly stumbled over to the edge of the creek, where he sank down on a stray boulder.

Ellie wasn't sure how long she remained in the car until she finally mustered up the courage to move. She cautiously approached Joel. He looked extremely on edge, but at the same time more vulnerable than she had ever seen him.

"Joel?" Ellie sat down on the grass in front of him and folded her legs. Joel sat unmoving. He didn't respond to her in any way, not with a word, a sound or even a small movement. All he did was sit, slightly hunched over, and stare at his bloodied hands resting in his lap.

Ellie eyed Joel's injured hands with a sudden feeling of sympathy and gratitude. Those hands had saved her life just now, because she sure as hell would not have been able to fight those raiders off alone. Those hands which were now covered in blood, scrapes and bruises. Those hands which now held a distinct tremble to them in the aftermath of everything that had happened today.

"We need to clean that up," Ellie spoke softly, indicating Joel's battered hands. Joel didn't respond. He sat like frozen, turned into himself, and not acknowledging her or anything else around him.

Ellie had made up her mind, though. Joel had saved her life, so the least she could do was take care of his injuries. She quickly collected a pot, towels and bandages from the car, before sitting down in front of Joel again. She scooped some water from the creek behind her and dipped one of the towels in it.

Ellie gently reached for Joel's right hand, which seemed to be in the worst condition. He didn't protest as she carefully pulled his hand towards her and started cleaning off the blood. Most of the blood wasn't his, but especially Joel's knuckles were bruised, bloody and scraped severely, and his ring finger held such a bruise and swelling that Ellie feared it might be broken.

Joel winced audibly when she accidentally ran the towel a little too hard over one of the bigger abrasions on his knuckles. Ellie startled. "I'm sorry..." For the first time since they had arrived here, Joel moved. He rearranged his legs and sat up a little straighter, but he didn't pull his hand away from her. "It's okay," he mumbled.

Ellie took a second before she quietly continued cleaning Joel's hands. She washed off the blood, made sure there was absolutely no dirt or anything left in the scrapes and cuts, and finally dried his hands.

Even though it hurt, Joel didn't make another sound. He saw how Ellie responded to his single wince, and he knew his behavior ever since the fight at the petrol station had scared her.

"Ellie..." Her name rolled off his lips in such a caring way, that her eyes immediately found his face now. "I just need to apply a bandage and then you should be fine," she said softly. Joel recognized her attempt to avoid the subject he really wanted to address with her. He slowly moved to take Ellie's hands in his. It hurt his battered knuckles and broken finger, but he not once ceased the gesture.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Joel spoke softly, voice full of emotion all of a sudden. "I lost control. It hasn't happened to me in a long time, and I...didn't know how to deal with it for a moment." "You scared the shit out of me," Ellie confessed. "I know. And I'm very sorry about that." Joel hung his head. His heart sank even further when he felt Ellie slowly pull her hands out of his. He had thoroughly fucked this up. Just when he had started to care for her, something he had never thought possible after losing Sarah, he had gone and blown it all to smithereens.

Now it was Joel's turn to startle when he suddenly felt Ellie's warm, comforting hand come to rest against his cheek. He looked up at her and saw tears sparkle in her eyes. "Don't apologize." She almost whispered. "this: the state of your hands, the state of you... it saved my life. You saved my life." Joel nodded slowly, lost for words. Ellie smiled at him, before slowly pulling her hand away from Joel's cheek and started bandaging up his raw, scraped and bloodied knuckles.

Joel watched her work. She was right, he had saved her life. Finally he understood why he had lost control the way he did at the petrol station: there was something to live for again, something to protect with every fibre of his being. And that something was Ellie. Her being okay was worth a few bruises, a broken finger, and scraped, bloody knuckles. And Joel knew, if it ever came to it, he would do it again in a heartbeat.

Make a request from my prompts list (including the BTHB prompts) Useful Links Section | Writing masterlist

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Terror coursed through her entire body, mixing with the immeasurable amount of pain- Gods the pain, everything hurt, she wanted nothing more than for it to stop. The sound of Toothless landing and Hiccup dismounting scared her beyond belief. If it was hunters, they were going to keep her alive, but she would still be kidnapped, and if it was more raiders, she literally had nothing to give them, but maybe they would at least kill her, put her out of her misery.

But then she heard Hiccup start talking and she didn’t know what to think, she just cried harder. Why did he come back for her? Was he going to put her in jail for stealing his stuff? Oh Gods, she hoped not, she didn’t want to be locked up again.

“No, don- don’t touch it—“ she was cut off by him touching it, wrapping the cloth around it and putting pressure. She pressed her forehead to the floor of the boat and sobbed loudly. “Stop, H-Hiccup please, m’ sorry, jus’ stop,” she cried loudly, trying to move her leg away from him.

She continued crying as he spoke, the pain in her leg remaining sharp.

Oh thank Thor he wasn’t touching the arrows. They were lodged in pretty deep, she didn’t think she could handle him pulling them out right now.

She nodded weakly at the mention of him picking her up, but she was met with sharp stabs in her side as he did so. Her ribs. “Put me down! Put- please!” Her mind was really far gone right now, she thought he was intentionally trying to hurt her, she didn’t realize he was helping.

As much as she was scared of him, it was still Hiccup. Better than anyone else she could’ve come across. Her sobs didn’t stop, but her head lulled over to the side so she was resting against him as they flew. At least if she did die, she wouldn’t be alone.

She used her ‘good’ hand to point to her head, which had dried blood going down her face from the arrow wound. He had probably already seen it, she just didn’t think about that. Truthfully, she didn’t know for sure if that was the only other wound, so she decided to just say, “E-everything hurts so bad…” Her breath hitched in her throat. “I-I know you’re mad but please make it stop…” Maybe he would show her some mercy.

She was starting to get droopy, but if she fell asleep, she might not wake back up.

Hiccup winced, she almost seemed to be in worse shape than when she was taken by the hunters.

"Danny, we have to stop the bleeding...I don't have anything for the pain right now, but we'll get you something when we get to Gothi's..."

At her cries to put her down, he realized her injuries were more severe than he initially thought. He shifted his hold so that his arm was higher up by her shoulders, hoping that would ease the discomfort a bit.

He was so focused on her other wounds, he hadn't seen her head wound. It looked pretty bad as well, and she already had bruises forming. He was glad they were already on their way back to Berk.

At her comment, he shook his head. "What I feel doesn't matter. That's a conversation for another time. What matters is keeping you alive. I'm guessing they hit your head pretty hard, so you cannot fall asleep, got it? We're almost there, just stay awake. You say everything hurts? Squeeze my hand however hard you like, just stay awake."

[fuzzydreamin]

What The Companions Say About... Deathclaws!

I'm posting these just because I find the companions in-game reactions to things rather interesting. You might be surprised by what some of them have to say about certain things.

These are just their dialogues for during combat and after combat or walking through areas inhabited by this enemy type. It does not include anything from specific areas, quests, or other dialogue.

⌨ Ada

⌨: How could the perfect killing machine rise from the chaos of an irradiated world? ⌨: It takes an astonishing amount of firepower to kill a Deathclaw. ⌨: Fair warning… my self-preservation subroutine is on high alert. ⌨: Aggressive, territorial and carnivorous… the very definition of a predatory species. ⌨: Ma'am, we shouldn't remain here much longer. I fear for your safety.

☘ Cait

☘: Holy shite! Deathclaw! ☘: I'm gonna rip those claws off with me bare hands!

☘: Watch it. These beasts mean business. ☘: I've seen deathclaws chew through raiders like paper. Not a pretty sight. ☘: I'd love to mount a deathclaw head on my wall. If I had a wall. ☘: You want to take some deathclaws down? I'm game. ☘: I've tangled with these things before. Earned a few scars, but walked away with a fortune in claws.

⚙ Codsworth

⚙: {calling out a cautionary warning} Deathclaw! ⚙: {trying not to sound nervous} Hoy boy. A deathclaw.

⚙: {Worried} Perhaps we best hoof it, mum? Lest we run into more Deathclaws. ⚙: {covering fear with intellectual musings} Mirelurks and Radscorpions sure… But what fathered the Deathclaw? Iguanas? ⚙: {extremely nervous / Nervous} Mum, I'm not sure we're safe here. ⚙: {(extremely nervous) a half hearted attempt at half a joke / Nervous} Do be careful, mum. Deathclaws aren't known for their docile nature. ⚙: {"deathclaws scare me" / Nervous} I don't mind saying it, mum, Deathclaws give me a bad case of collywobbles.

⚕ Curie

⚕: I find no records of these Deathclaws. They are new to this world, yes? ⚕: In this biosphere, I believe humans are not the apex predator. The Deathclaw, I believe he sits at the top. ⚕: I would prefer we avoid Deathclaws. If I am destroyed, there is no more science that can be done. ⚕: Are Deathclaws always violent? Perhaps play some music for them? Or poetry? ⚕: We should maintain vital statistics of the people. For causes of death, I think Deathclaw related injuries must be high on that list.

♞ Danse

♞: Deathclaw! Condition red! ♞: Fire! Don't let it get close!

♞: {These things are tough, even for a soldier like you.} Don't underestimate the deathclaw. I've seen one tear open Power Armour like it was a tin can. ♞: {These things are tough, even for a soldier like you.} Aim for the deathclaw's legs to slow them down. It might give you a chance to survive. ♞: Did you know Elder Maxson took a deathclaw out with nothing but a combat knife? And he has the scar to prove it. ♞: We shouldn't stick around here too long. No telling how many deathclaws call this their home. ♞: {These things are tough, even for a soldier like you.} My advice for hunting a deathclaw? Return to base and forget about it. You'll live longer.

🕶 Deacon

🕶: Ahh. Deathclaw. 🕶: Don't let it get close. Pop a Stealth Boy if you got one.

🕶: Brr… Deathclaws. 🕶: I do not like 'Claws. Those fast, car flipping, ahh… They just get to me. 🕶: If we're hunting Deathclaws, care to tag in Glory? Please? 🕶: Another Deathclaw down, and another of my 9 lives burned. Yay. 🕶: Deathclaws, love them or leave them, they'll still tear your face off.

☠ Gage

☠: Oh shit… Deathclaw… ☠: Deathclaw! Time for the big guns!

☠: Okay… We may have a problem here… ☠: I'm all for a good fight, but Deathclaws?…

☣ Hancock

☣: {Concerned} Shit. Here comes trouble. ☣: {Stern} If you were saving any explosives, now'd be the time.

☣: {Question} So, what do you think it'd take to train these things to just eat Super Mutants? ☣: {Neutral} No matter how many of these I take down, they still give me the chills. ☣: {Neutral} Always found goin' after a Deathclaw's legs made 'em easier to take out… or at least outrun. ☣: {Amused} You ever had Deathclaw steak? Nothing tastier than a meal that tries to eat you first. ☣: {Neutral} Deathclaw broke into Goodneighbor once. Thought I'd wandered into a butcher shop.

☸ Longfellow

(All of these have the {Deathclaws are huge, terrifying monsters. You have a healthy respect for them but aren't afraid.} note) ☸: Hunted deathclaws a time or two. One thing's for sure, it's never boring. ☸: Best way to take down a Deathclaw is to aim for the head. From a long way away, of course. ☸: Everythin' you need to know 'bout a Deathclaw is right there in its name. ☸: Not all Deathclaws are the same. They're all nasty, but some of 'em are real devils. ☸: Deathclaws are twice as nasty when they're guardin' a nest. You see one doin' that, it's best to leave it be.

⨁ MacCready

⨁: Kill it like you mean it! ⨁: Gonna rip those claws off you with my bare hands!

⨁: Nothing turns your shorts brown faster than a deathclaw charging at you. ⨁: We need to get he hell out of here as soon as possible. ⨁: If deathclaws are mutated Jackson's Chameleons, how the heck did they get so big? ⨁: We're doing a bit of big game hunting now, huh? ⨁: Seen bullets glance right of a deathclaw's hide before. Better load up with the heavy stuff.

♥ Nick

♥: {Neutral} That's one ticked-off dino. ♥: {Stern} Shouldn't you be extinct?

♥: {Neutral} Ten feet of muscle and rage. Deathclaws make everything else look like children's toys. ♥: {Implying that those guys are now extremely dead. / Stern} I knew a couple of guys who thought they could make caps looting a Deathclaw nest. Emphasis on "knew." ♥: {Neutral} These things are mutated lizards, right? Just our luck they didn't stay vegetarians. ♥: {Neutral} As long as these things are out here, folks'll never be safe outside the settlements… or in them for that matter… ♥: {Neutral} Bunch of bad-tempered museum exhibits.

✉ Piper

✉: {Nervous} No, no, no. Here it comes! ✉: {With a "you're nuts" tone / Neutral} We picking "fight" over "flight?" Okay…

✉: {Neutral} Don't usually get to see Deathclaws this close. Wouldn't mind this being the last time, either. ✉: {Irritated} Not to go all "writer," but seriously? Deathclaws? What, was "Pointy Lizard" taken? ✉: {Realises Roger is dead at the end. / Neutral} Knew a trader who dealt solely in Deathclaw goods. Clothes, weapons, jewellery. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Roger in a whi… oh. ✉: {Neutral} Makes you wonder how people ever made it past day one with these things running amok out here. ✉: {Neutral} It'd probably take the Brotherhood, Institute, and divine intervention to clear these things from the Commonwealth.

☀ Preston

☀: Deathclaw! Unload with everything you got! ☀: Aim for the legs! We've got to slow that thing down! ☀: Blast that thing! Now!

☀: Holy hell. I can't believe we got out of there alive. ☀: I'm just glad we're both still standing. ☀: I don't mind admitting, I'm still a little shaky. ☀: I'd be okay if that was the last deathclaw I ever saw.

☢ Strong

☢: Deathclaws. Worthy foes. ☢: Need many brothers to hunt Deathclaws. ☢: Deathclaws fast. Deathclaws strong. Deathclaws hard. ☢: Only great warriors can kill Deathclaws. ☢: Must keep moving to kill Deathclaw. Circle and circle and circle.

☾ X6-88

☾: {Urgency} You'll want to stay clear of those claws, ma'am. ☾: {Urgent concern} Deathclaw… shit. This is a class-A threat. ☾: {Urgent concern} Hope you're ready for a fight, because a Deathclaw always is. ☾: Best way to fight a Deathclaw is to flank it. Sometimes they get confused. ☾: {Concern} Deathclaw armour's thick… gotta have something strong to punch through it.

-----

My Notes:

So Cait is a hobbyist Deathclaw hunter... As an Aussie I'm proud -Jump on it's back! Tie up her snout! I will 100% mount a Deathclaw head in her room in Sanctuary. Even our toughest companions (Danse, X6, and Strong) don't look forward to going head-to-head with a Deathclaw, but she's ready to rumble.

I think it would be hilarious to see someone trying to play a lulluby for a Deathclaw. Cute if it works, funny if not. I'll get the popcorn ready.

Danse can you not suck Maxson's dick for one second.

Cait and Mac have the same battle cry about ripping the claws off.

Mac knowing they were mutated from Jackson's Chameleon -that'd likely be from lingering Enclave influence/information in the Capital.

Before Concord, Preston had never seen a Deathclaw up close (he admits so after the fight). Suffice to say he's fond of keeping things that way.

Everyone but Longfellow seems to agree that the best way to take on a Deathclaw, other than y'know, not doing that, is to flank it's side and go for the legs with the heaviest hits you've got. Longfellow's aiming up those headshots from afar. Probably works best if you've got enough people and weaponry to do both.

[deepuknownyouth]

Pirates

My game is about Pirates in fact you play as one setting sail to the se to take on other pirates in epic ship to ship combat. But what is a pirate? What are there goals? Why do they do what they do? And are they still around to this day? well I thought I would do One very in-depth blog post on what Pirates are and the effect they have on the world as a hole. Or the effect they did have on the world as a hole.

What are pirates?

Well, let's start with a simple definition of the word "Pirate." The definition reads, "an act of robbery or criminal violence by ship or boat-borne attackers upon another." The first recorded incident of pirates was in 14 BC when a group known as the Sea People threatened a group of sailors on a ship passing through the Mediterranean Sea. The group that threatened them and later attacked them were known as the "Sea People," and they came from Turkey. Now, I wish I could say they had some sort of deep and interesting reason to do this. Maybe they were poor or from a bad background, and while that may well be true for a lot of them, these pirates seemed to just like stealing, killing, and robbing as their way of living more than just doing any other form of normal work at the time. They acted more like raiders than anything.

So, in short, pirates were often people from a poor background who would join a crew, get a ship, and set sail for the sea, stealing anything they deemed theirs on the ocean. They would often be villains to the people they were robbing and even sometimes engage with each other in naval battles for each other's goods.

Life On The Sea

Okay, so we now know that pirates were poor people from disadvantaged backgrounds who thought they had to take to a life of stealing to make their way through life. But what was life actually like for pirates on their ships? Well, let's just say it was not all the gleam the movies may show you. Pirates often had to live in quite poor conditions and could catch many illnesses and diseases, including scurvy, mosquito-borne diseases, infectious diseases, and gangrene. These could often kill many pirates on a ship, and not to mention the fact they would fight each other for supplies, gold, and treasure. And then add to the fact that they would be in constant danger of countries' navies going after them, such as the British Empire, who would take down any pirate ships they saw. Pirate battles weren't really a fun battle but more of a brutal and rather bloody battle that would end with you on the floor of your ship dead from a stab wound or a cannonball or at the bottom of the sea.

Are Pirates Still Around Today?

A short answer to this is: Yes. Yes, they are. While they don't still have swords and big old pirate ships that shoot out cannonballs, they do have guns and speedboats. Pirates today normally still operate around the Caribbean and African seas where they try to board ships for their supplies and valuables. Pirates now are nowhere near as effective as they were hundreds of years ago; however, they still try to take on large cargo ships and take what they can.

Fun facts Why did pirates often wear funny hats? Well, they are not actually anything really special, not at least like what people describe them as. Pirates who wore "funny" hats were often just the captain of the ship, and they did this so their crew would know who was in charge.

Pirates didn't often have hooks like TV media will tell you. If a pirate had a peg leg or a hook on his hand, they would have had to have had a very good doctor who saved them from whatever injury they sustained and a lot of money to pay for a leg/hook.

Pirates did, however, have parrots. Not because of the same reasons films will have you believe, but more as a sign of their power and in some rare cases as a way of stealing things without others knowing they did it. They would also keep them as a lucky charm of some sort in some cases.

Pirates never really wore eye patches; this was more of a made-up thing in media. However, in some very, very rare cases, they would, whether this be to scare others or because they really did only have one eye, some, and I mean some, had black eye patches.

Pirates did not always have a cross and bones on their sails; sometimes, they would just have a normal white sail until they were very close to their enemy ship so they could quickly change when they were already in range to strike their enemies. This was a very smart pirate tactic.

[i-am-nickelbolt]

Bronze to Mythic: Khans of Tarkir, draft #3

I kinda feel like this deck is a 3-3 deck but I'm not happy about it...

Pack 1, pick 1 Zurgo Helmsmasher over Monastery Swiftspear and Debilitating Injury. I kind of agonized over this one, and I don't think it's crazy to take any of them, but I just wanted to play Zurgo and see how it goes. I think taking good 3 color cards early is okay. Pick 2 Sandsteppe Citadel, nice. Pick 3 Blossoming Sands over Feat of Resistance. Pick 4 Sultai Soothsayer over Blossoming Sands #2. I'm not married to Zurgo, and maybe the lands will work out. If I'm base Abzan, then splashing either of these is okay. And if you end up 5 color, having multiple of the same dual is not as helpful, and I already have Sandsteppe Citadel overlapping the Blossoming sands. Pick 4 Rugged Highlands over Ainok Bond-Kin. Bond-Kin suggests I'm playing white for sure, and I'm not there yet. Pick 6 Abomination of Gudul, good to pick up one of the premium morphs. Pick 7 Wind-Scarred Crag, which is making Zurgo pretty playable right now. Pick 8 Become Immense, Pick 9 Mer-Ek Nightblade, and some filler to round out the pack. I kind of like where I am, I really need some blue lands though.

Pack 2, Pick 1 Abzan Charm over Utter End. Perfect! Pick 2... Mantis Rider over Mardu Charm. Probably a mistake, but... Mantis Rider is pretty good... Pick 3 Dismal Backwater over Sultai Charm. Perfect, getting a blue land, and Sultai Charm doesn't really kill enough things to be good enough. Pick 4 Debilitating Injury over Jungle Hollow and Mardu Hordechief. Pick 5... second Mantis Rider???? Okay, here we go! Pick 6 Snowhorn Rider. Pick 7 Efreet Weaponmaster, and I picked up a Smite the Monstrous on the wheel.

Pack 3, pick 1 Rattleclaw Mystic over Sandsteppe Citadel. This fixes my mana really well. Pick 2 Arc Lightning over Savage Punch. I'm not really a great Savage Punch deck. But I got Pick 3 Savage Punch over Master of the Way, and I'm happier with one of each than 2 Punches in this deck, I think. Pick 4 Jungle Hollow over Savage Punch, Jeskai Windscout, and Warden of the Eye. I'm kind of committed to 5 colors so I need the lands. Pick 5 Winterflame over honestly about 5 other cards that would have made my deck, so I don't think I made the right pick. Pick 6 was a total brick, pick 7 Dismal Backwater, and Snowhorn Rider and Force Away wheeled.

As it ended up base Jeskai was the right place to be, but it was really hard to see how that would be the case after pack 1. I know i made some mistakes, but I felt like I had some power here if my mana worked out.

My first loss was to Abzan. They had High Sentinels of Arashin, which I was able to Smite the Monstrous, but after that I flooded pretty badly. Definitely had the chance to win if I drew something.

My second loss was to four color non-white. They dealt with my turn 3 Mantis Rider, they had a timely Icefeather Aven, and gained a bunch of life in an attack that might have been a little aggressive. They finished me off with Ashcloud Phoenix. The 8 life made a big difference.

My third loss was a heartbreaker. They were aggressive Mardu with Goblinslide, Raider's spoils, and a strange looking Rotting Mastodon that kind of brickwalled me. I was down to 2 life, and thought I had stabilized with 4 untapped creatures to their one, trying to play around removal spell plus haste creature, and yet... they had one card left, Take up Arms, which made 4 tokens with slide, leaving me exactly dead. They also misplayed early in the game, they should have Trumpetblasted before combat to get another haste-y 3/1.

These losses were all respectable, and my deck did what my deck was supposed to do. 3-3 I feel is a little disappointing, I was more expecting like 4-5 wins.