#journey through rosebud

[nanamiscocksleeve]

A Sheath for a Sword

Warnings: MDNI, Crack fic, crude language, PIV sex, dirty talking, slight foursome A/N: This isn't an actual WIP, I just got a silly idea and wrote it out. Hardly took any time at all. Kind of a Victorian era goofy, crack fic. Not in y/n format, just felt right doing it in third person. Not proofread. Image credit Masson on Shutterstock

A young woman is crawling weakly through a field. The feeling of thirst claws at her body. It's been 3 months since she's had cock. 3 whole months and she's starving.

In a desperate bid to satisfy her hunger, she left her village, only to be overcome by her own weaknesses now on her knees, crying out in desperation.

"Cock...a bit of cock...anyone please...so thirsty..." Her labored movements drain her of the little energy she had, and she rests her head on the grass, panting, feeling her body succumbing to her basic needs. So this is how it ends, she thinks to herself. With a dry cunt and no prospects in sight.

She feels her thoughts becoming less cohesive, eyes becoming heavy and breathing shallow. She closes her eyes and waits for her ultimate end.

Unbeknownst to her, a merry order of knights were nearby and they had heard her pathetic cries of thirst. They march towards her aid, a trio of tall, strapping, gentlemen.

"The poor thing," murmurs Sir Geto The Long.

"Indeed," agrees Sir Gojo The Strong.

"I hope she'll recover," says Sir Nanami The Dauntless.

"Let's rouse her and see how she responds." Sir Geto rolls her onto her back and begins to pull up the various layers of skirts beneath her dress before he finally reaches the small strip of linen covering her pussy. He pulls it off and gasps in shock.

"I do say...look at it's state!"

Sir Gojo and Sir Nanami gather closer to see and they almost gasp in horror.

"I've never seen a cunt so dry!"

"Poor thing must be starving."

"She might have come from one of those old villages, the ones that took all the young men off to war!"

"She has traveled great lengths and gone without. We should put in our best efforts to revive her."

Sir Geto nods, gathering saliva onto his tongue. "I shall give it my best hawk tuah." With that, he brings as much as he can onto the dried pussy lips, spreading it onto her parched folds to offer relief.

The woman stirs, feeling something pleasantly lapping at her cunt, then shivers as her corset is undone and removed along with her chemise. Her eyes open a fraction, then she gasps as she sees two handsome men suckling on her titties, her poor, deprived titties, which would have been as dry as her cunt had it not been for the help of the salve the apothecary had made for her.

She clears her throat to get their attention. Sir Gojo releases her nipple, looking at her in apology.

"I'm sorry my lady, I hope you don't mind. You did look like you were in need of aid."

"I was. was looking for relief and must have passed out in the field." She gasps as she feels a tug on the womanly pearl between her legs. "Oh my! When I started on this journey, I was hoping to find at least one man to fill my venus cavern. I was never expecting 3! May I know your names, kind sirs?"

"Sir Gojo Satoru the strong." The white-haired knight introduces himself.

Nanami who had been licking her nipple this whole time lets go with a wet pop. "And I am Sir Nanami Kento The Dauntless."

"Dauntless?"

"He never backs down from anything. Never met a dame he hasn't satisfied, no matter how difficult she might be. Leaves the wildcats purring like house kittens by the time he's done!" Sir Gojo explains with a bark of laughter.

"And the chivalrous man between your legs restoring moisture to your cunt is Sir Geto The Long." Sir Gojo points the covered shape between her legs.

"Oh...long indeed, I can feel his tongue covering me all the way from the rosebud to the kitty cave!" she giggles and sighs as she feels her thirst ebbing away.

"That's not the only reason we call him that. You'll find out soon enough."

"Are you comfortable with us providing you with this assistance in a field my lady? We had no chance to ask since your condition was dire and you were unconscious. Would you prefer a room and a bed?" Sir Nanami asks as he tweaks her nipple with his calloused fingertips.

"Oh lord, no," she chuckles. "Outside is fine it's thrilling actually."

"Excellent! Well, we shall carry on. Please do not hesitate to cry out in pleasure when you have been thoroughly satisfied."

The woman lays back and lets them lick all her unused parts, feeling strength and vitality flowing back into her body with each flick and tickle. Sir Geto was doing an excellent job of bringing her withered petals back into health and she felt her moisture cavern growing even more wet in preparation for a meat sausage.

She cries out as her first orgasm in three months hits her, the noise echoing across the empty field, and Sir Geto emerges from underneath her clothes, grinning. She blushes as she sees his face, just as handsome as the other two that had been playing with her teats.

"I think I brought it back to life," sir Geto says confidently. "Would you like me to fill your glistening glove of love? Or would you prefer someone else?"

She considers, then admits. "I want Sir Gojo The Strong to break my abstinence."

"Yes my lady," Sir Gojo says with a grin. "Let me fuck thy fair maiden. And bring unto her a climax." With that he flips her back onto her hands and knees and begins to undo his armor. She makes small talk with the other 2 knights since removing armor single-handedly is no easy task. Sir Nanami and Sir Geto take turns lapping at her cave of wonders and pulling her breast pebbles to keep her moistened.

"In short, I thought I was going to die without ever experiencing cock again!" she was saying by the time Sir Gojo finished undressing.

"Quite fascinating my lady," he says, grabbing her hips and positioning them, before pushing his impressive flesh sword into her meat sandwich. She moans like a cat in heat, the exquisite feeling of cock filling her being. It was like being reborn, his erection bringing life back to her starved pussy like rain onto a drought-wrecked farm.

She groans and moans and giggles and sighs, enjoying the fucking of her pussy. "I would so enjoy a cock in my mouth as well sirs," she says looking at Sir Geto and Sir Nanami who begin to remove their own armor. Her eyes widen as she sees their forms.

"Now I understand why you're Sir Geto The Long," she says, measuring his dick with her fingers. "And Sir Nanami! Dauntless indeed! I would be too with that kind of sausage!" she looks at the veiny, glorious, monster cock on Sir Nanami's body.

"Well, feed me gentlemen."

Sir Nanami lets her taste him first, and she sucks him with enthusiasm, feeling her body grow stronger. Sir Geto plays with her nipples as he waits for one of her holes to get free. It takes quite an effort but she manages to get Sir Nanami to a climax, the salty cream from his cock sliding down her throat, an elixir to all her problems. At the same time, Sir Gojo also blesses her wet cunt with his cum, adding much-needed substances to her previously decrepit pussy.

Without wasting time, Sir Geto plunges into her as soon as Sir Gojo is finished. Cross-eyed and happier than she'd been in 3 months, the woman pants, tongue hanging out of her mouth in ecstasy.

"People talked about dry spells before. I thought they were lying. I thought it couldn't possibly be this bad," she explains between each gasp of air.

"Oh no, dry spells are not to be taken lightly. In fact, during the last one, they designated fuck bucks - young men with good vigor, to serve the women during the last war. But the crown's budget has become restricted with this war so they were unable to procure any fuckable men." Sir Nanami explains as he and Sir Gojo help each other with their armor, waiting for Sir Geto to finish.

Sir Geto growls like an animal, then plays with her clit, bringing her to her third orgasm and gives her another generous helping of seed to restore her parched lands.

She sighs in satisfaction. "Thank you Sirs. I really may have died here today."

"Tis no trouble at all my lady." They help her dress. "Would you like to come with us?"

"With you? Where?"

"We take our own quests and wander the lands keeping peace. Surely, you do not wish to go back to your cock deprived village?"

The woman considers, then shakes her head at the horrible prospect. "Indeed, no."

"Then ride with us. We will keep your cunt full, your belly fed, and your tits well suckled. Once our questing has ended you may wed us even."

"Wed? All of you?" The woman looks thrilled at the thought.

"Yes. All 3 of us. If it please you."

"It does!" She goes over to Sir Nanami who helps her onto his horse.

"Then off we go. For more adventures to cum!"

And they all ride away into the sunset.

THE END

@Aether-seawolf @Actuallysaiyan @Makingtimemine @snwvie

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: Almost

Plot: Joel, Ellie and Y/n work their way across Wyoming in a desperate search for Tommy.

Word Count: 12.6k

Warnings: tlou ep.6 spoilers, language, death, loss of a child, angry outburst, trauma, anxiety attacks, 16+

A/N: SURPRISE! One day ahead of where I thought I’d be, swooping in for a dose of bedtime angst 🌙

As always, I have to put that this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range is not specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

This chapter and the one that will follow are the chapters. They’re the culmination of this whole frickin’ journey. It’s been so fun to eead your theories about Joel and Rosebud’s breakup, and now you’ll have (some of) your answers. I hope it lives up to what you imagined, or maybe even surprises you. Above all, I hope y’all enjoy 😘

—————

December 2023. Somewhere in Wyoming.

Fuck the philosophers of the pre-Cordyceps world.

Time healed nothing.

If anything, time made pain worse. Because, with enough time to study its victim, the pain could evolve. It could morph into anger, bitterness…much like Cordyceps, it could consume its host until they were shrouded in so many layers of hurt, they became unrecognizable.

Time healed absolutely nothing.

Marlon returned to his cabin, hanging the two rabbits he’d killed on the hook outside the door. The little warmth the home managed to retain welcomed him in, but the inside had changed since he’d been gone.

“Who the hell are you?”

Y/n sat adjacent to Florence, Marlon’s wife, blowing on a spoonful of soup. “A deep admirer of your wife’s cooking,” she answered.

Marlon stood confused at the door, slowly removing his jacket.

“And the gun.”

The old man turned to see another stranger, this one a man, emerging from the kitchen. He had a pistol drawn on Marlon.

“And you?”

Joel shook his head, carefully moving towards Marlon, “Just someone passin’ through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.”

Marlon obeyed, dangling his pistol off his fingers and setting it on an end table. All the while, Y/n sipped her soup.

Marlon looked to Florence, “Why didn’t you shoot them?”

She nodded across the room, “The gun’s all the way over there. They didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes,” Marlon walked to his chair, he’d already deemed Joel as a very minor, if at all, threat.

“He won’t shoot you,” Y/n interjected, not once looking up from her bowl, “He threatens everyone he meets.”

Joel’s hardened stare landed on Y/n’s face, her casualty was greatly undermining him.

“You made ‘em soup?” Marlon gestured to Y/n’s meal, along with Joel’s untouched bowl that sat on the coffee table.

“Yeah, I did,” Florence answered, “It’s cold out.”

Y/n reached across and touched the woman’s arm, “And it’s lovely, Florence. Thank you.”

Joel sighed in exasperation, “We’re lookin’ for my brother.”

Marlon scoffed and removed his baseball cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.”

“I haven’t told you what he looks like,” Joel replied.

“He look anything like you?” Marlon asked.

“A bit.”

Marlon shrugged, “Then I ain’t seen him.”

“They’ve got a girl with them,” Florence nodded up the stairs.

“Can I come down now?” Ellie called from above, overlooking the ground floor.

Joel and Y/n answered at the same time.

“No.”

“Yeah.”

Their eyes flicked to one another, Joel’s frustrated, Y/n’s calm. She was done playing the gunslinging traveler when unnecessary.

Ellie, always siding with whichever of them gave her what she wanted, bounded down the stairs.

“Ellie,” Joel reprimanded, as if it would do anything to stop her…

“Ooh-wa,” Marlon chuckled, looking to his wife and Y/n.

“What did I just say?” Joel said as Ellie joined him.

“Joel, come on,” she replied, aiming her handgun at the couple, “They’re like, a thousand.”

Marlon ran his eyes over Ellie, “Who’s this little psycho?”

“Never mind her,” Joel leaned forward, pushing his map across the table to Marlon, “I need you to tell us where we are.”

“If you got a map, why’re you lost?” Marlon asked.

“Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest,” Ellie shot back.

“Ho-ly,” Marlon smiled to his wife, the two of them sharing a laugh.

Joel glanced over to Ellie, she was mirroring his posture, his tone…she was trying so damn hard to be like him. “We’re somewhere here,” he pointed to a spot on the map, “Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.”

Marlon’s eyes flicked to Florence, “You tell ‘em the truth?”

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Are you tellin’ me the truth?”

“Yeah.”

Marlon leaned forward and pressed a finger to a spot on the map. It wasn’t the answer Joel was looking for.

“Well,” he holstered his gun, “You found a great place to hide, I guess.”

“Hide?” Marlon chuckled deeply as Joel settled on his couch, “Came here before you and your wife were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.”

“Not his wife,” Y/n was quick to reply before taking another spoonful. It had been three fucking months of assumptions and both Joel and her were exhausted by them.

Florence turned to Y/n, “I didn’t want to.”

“Eh,” Marlon waved his wife off and looked to Joel, “Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?”

“Yeah, got close enough,” Ellie answered from the arm of the couch, “It’s crawling with Infected.

“Yeah, Laramie,” Marlon listed off, “And Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be. You can’t go there no more.”

Y/n set her soup aside and leaned forward on her elbows, deciding it was finally time to take the conversation seriously. “So you’ve never heard the name Tommy Miller?”

“Nope,” Marlon answered.

“What about the Fireflies?” Ellie asked.

Florence nodded, “We get those in the summer.”

“Not the bugs,” Ellie replied, thoroughly put out, “The people.”

“There are firefly people?”

Y/n joined the joke and gestured down the length of her body, “In the flesh.”

Marlon, Florence and Y/n shared a laugh, Joel couldn’t tell whether he was more annoyed or disappointed.

“You got any advice on the best way west?”

“Yeah,” Marlon leaned forward, “Go east,” he ran a finger along a stretch of water on the map, “But you never go past the river here. Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked.

“Death,” Florence answered, “We never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not,” she turned to Joel, “If your brother’s west of the river, he’s gone.”

Joel and Y/n’s eyes met across the table, both trying to conceal their worry under Ellie’s ever-present gaze, but knowing they could share it with each other.

“You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie said, confidently.

Florence nodded towards Joel and Y/n, “Scared them.”

They quickly buried their anxieties under blind determination. Whatever lay across the bank, it didn’t matter. They had to believe that Tommy was both alive and well on the other side.

Filing out of the cabin, Joel and Y/n marched ahead of Ellie.

“You don’t seriously believe them,” Ellie half-stated, half-asked.

“They’ve lived here a long time,” Joel replied, trudging through the snow. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up.

Y/n turned around to see why she couldn’t hear Ellie’s footsteps following theirs. The girl was unhooking one of Marlon’s rabbits, “El, come on, don’t steal their food.”

Ellie was undeterred as she swung the game over her shoulder, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the Fireflies.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t have out here,” Y/n stretched her arms out around her to the snowy expanse, “Doesn’t mean you have to steal t-“

Y/n’s words faded in Joel’s ear, a steady ring filling the space. It was happening again.

Joel stumbled forward, resting a weak hand on a piece of the cabin’s fence, his breathing became labored. His thoughts began to spin with worst case scenarios in all their various forms that could become reality, if what lay on the other side of the river was real. Every nightmare his mind drummed up ended with Y/n or Ellie d-

“Joel,” Y/n called, she was the first of them to notice. She walked to meet him, “Joel.”

“Joel?” Ellie echoed, she’d had yet to witness one of his episodes, “Joel, are you okay?”

“Shut up,” he said, verbally waving Ellie off.

“Holy shit, are you dying?” Ellie continued.

Joel shook his head and shut his eyes, trying to block them out, “I’m okay.”

Y/n wasn’t so convinced, she laid a firm grip onto Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, c’mon.”

“Okay, but are you okay?” Ellie asked again.

“I’m fine,” Joel insisted, wishing desperately that Y/n would remove her hand, but not possessing the strength to shove it off, “I’m fine.”

“No, no, but are you?” Ellie wouldn’t stop, why couldn’t she stop? “Because just a reminder, that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.”

Y/n’s gaze darted to the girl, “Ellie-“

That was enough to bring Joel back to Earth.

“I said I’m fine,” he pushed, contradicting his words with his palm pressed to his chest. “It’s just the…cold air all of a sudden.”

Y/n let her hand slide off his shoulder, wholly aware that he was lying. The episodes had been occurring more and more over the last few weeks, they seemed to be getting worse the closer they got to wherever Tommy was or wasn’t.

Joel refused to ever tell her what triggered them, hell, he had barely figured it out himself. What he did know was that he couldn’t deal with what lay at the core of them all. That would have required an honesty he hadn’t possessed in twenty years.

“All right, uh,” Ellie was the first of the three to bounce back, “So let’s go find Tommy and the Fireflies. It’s gonna be easy,” she slid between the fence and called back to them, “All we have to do is cross the river of death.”

Joel and Y/n were left on their own, the former waiting to catch his breath, the latter waiting on an explanation.

“Would it have killed you to back me up in there?” Joel asked, his usual sour mood replacing the small glimpse of vulnerability.

“Yeah,” Y/n’s watched him bury the lsat thirty seconds, denying her an answer once again, “‘Cause that’s our biggest problem.”

She slid through the fence after Ellie, leaving Joel to bring up the rear of their group.

The last three months had been trying, but not in the ways Joel and Y/n might have thought at the beginning of their quest. They could only stay silent with each other for so long before they had to talk, and they’d reached a place where they weren’t at each other’s throats any more. While the snow had frozen the earth, their anger had melted…

Leaving all the underlying emotions to fill the vacant space.

The physical distance they kept hadn’t changed, but the unspoken chasm between them was beginning to cave in on itself. With each passing day, it was growing harder and harder for Joel and Y/n to pretend like they didn’t need each other.

In every one of Joel’s attacks, his guilt slammed into him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown the life out of him. So many people he’d let down and when he opened his eyes, he was staring into the face of one of them. One look at Y/n caused everything he’d told himself about her over the years to follow the undertow out to sea.

Y/n, in all her righteous rage, was beginning to do the impossible…she was starting to understand why Joel had done what he’d done to her. She’d spent twenty years cursing his name, a constant boil in her stomach that bubbled whenever she thought of him, but there’d always been a voice in her head reminding her of the ‘why.’ All of Joel’s actions from Outbreak Day on had been driven by a deep pain inside him. That inkling was starting to spread through Y/n’s mind, the dye well on its way to consuming the whole brain.

In a perfect world, they’d have come to one another, humbly, and talked it through. Instead, they held their grudge, with its dying flame, as the barricade between them, hoping that it sparked once more.

—————————

In the fall, fires had been a luxury, but as winter rolled in, they became necessary to make it through the night.

Y/n and Joel sat on opposite sides of it, Joel adding another layer of duct tape to his boot and Y/n stitching up a busted seam in her leather gloves. It was the apocalypse’s version of domesticities.

Ellie was above them, having scaled a rock to get a good look at the stars. A green glimpse of the Aurora Borealis waved through the midnight blue sky.

Joel whistled for her eventually, “Come down from there. You’re gonna break your neck.”

Ellie reluctantly returned to the ground, choosing to sit close to Y/n and watch her mend her glove. The two of them had grown closer over the past three months. Joel would never let his guard down wholly for Ellie, but Y/n was more comfortable letting the girl see her as she was.

“Ahh,” Ellie said, spotting the flask Joel was taking a swig from, “Can I have some?”

“No,” Y/n and Joel said in perfect harmony.

“What? Just to warm up,” Ellie clarified, “C’mon.”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Y/n, who knew she couldn’t hold old world rules to their situation. Her gaze falling back to her handiwork served as Joel’s answer.

Ellie took the flask, made sure to give a little ‘cheers’ to Joel and took a drink. She grimaced as it ran down her throat, “Yep,” she strained, “Still gross.”

Ellie held out the flask to Y/n, who shook her head. The thought of being anywhere near where Joel’s lips had been unsettled her.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started after a short stretch of silence, “Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.”

Joel’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Okay.”

“Then what?” Ellie asked, “Like, what do we do?”

“Oh, it’s ‘we?’” Joel replied.

“Yeah, the end of this partnership comes as soon as we get to the base,” Y/n pointed between herself and Joel.

Ellie nearly rolled her eyes, “Okay, fine. Whatever, you. Separately. You can do anything you want,” she looked to Joel first, “Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel glanced at the sky, to admit his true answer would kill another piece of the remnants of his heart. “It’s never been an option,” he cleared his throat, “Maybe…”

For a split second, he saw it all again. His old house. Tommy in the kitchen, raiding their fridge. Sarah at the table, doing homework.

And Y/n, somewhere in the middle of it all, laughing and looking to Joel with a softness that both uplifted and settled him.

“An old farmhouse,” he lied, “Some land…a ranch.”

Y/n stared down at her needlework, knowing that each word was a lie.

“Cool,” Ellie replied, oblivious to the history surrounding her, “What kind?”

“Sheep,” Joel answered, it was the first animal he could think of, “I would raise sheep.”

“Sheep,” Ellie repeated under her breath.

“They’re quiet,” Joel continued, his stare falling on Ellie, “Do what they’re told.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Ellie got the hint, “So just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic. Is there…” her eyes swung between Joel and Y/n, “Room for anyone else in the pens with you?”

The assumptions made by strangers that Y/n and Joel were a couple were enjoyable compared to Ellie’s constant attempts to push them together. They were getting more frequent and less subtle.

“I go back to work after this, El,” Y/n said, finishing up her last loop, “Doubtful I’ll be getting back to Boston any time soon, so I’ll probably stay at the camp out here.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Ellie shook her head, “I asked what you wanted to do. Out of anything, anything in the world.”

Y/n stopped her stitching, staring down at the needle, wondering if she poked herself hard enough, if she’d be able to draw blood. Would she be able to feel the prick? Or was she just numb enough that physical pain couldn’t touch her?

Joel had noticed that Y/n was beginning to slow down more. On the move, she was as fast as ever, but in the quiet moments between, there’d be times where the world was in motion, and she was perfectly still. It was like she was somewhere deep, deep in her mind, waiting for whatever hold had come over her to break and allow her to return to reality.

Y/n swallowed thickly, her past life flickering before her eyes like a movie montage. Sharing a beer with Tommy while watching a Cowboys game. Painting Sarah’s nails for her with a color the girl had stolen from Y/n’s bathroom. Laying in bed with Joel, deep in the pillows and listening to him sing softly over his guitar…

Her dreams were dead.

“I want to work,” she answered, it wasn’t a total lie, “Help people. If I stop for too long…then what the hell am I doing?”

Joel wished he didn’t recognize the underlying sentiment, that if she stopped moving at an inhuman pace, the grief would consume her. But he did, because it was the same way he lived his life.

Y/n clipped the thread with her teeth, beginning to tie a knot, “And what about you? What are you gonna do after you save the world?”

Ellie gave a small smile as Y/n nudged her with her shoulder. She turned her gaze to the sky, specifically the very visible moon. “It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean and ahead of you there’s a wall,” her smile grew the longer she stared at the stars, “Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell…” Ellie sat forward with enthusiasm, “But you know who my favorite is?”

“Sally Ride,” Joel and Y/n both answered, it wasn’t hard to guess.

“Sally fuckin’ Ride,” Ellie slapped her knees, enunciating her point, “Best astronaut name ever!”

Whatever levity had come over their campsite faded quickly, Y/n watched as Ellie’s passion turned to sobering…grief? Guilt? She was hard to read sometimes, the innocence of youth and the scars of rushed adulthood creating something entirely new.

“It’ll work, right?” Ellie asked, “The vaccine?”

“It’s a little late to start wonderin’,” Joel responded, his hands folded over his stomach.

Ellie looked down at her lap, unable to look either Y/n or Joel in the eye. “I tried…with Sam.”

“Tried what?” Y/n asked.

“I knew he was infected,” Ellie confessed, “I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know,” she hurried, trying to stop Joel’s anxious admonishment before it came, “I know, it was stupid, but I…” she looked back down at her lap, “I wanted to save him.”

Y/n diverted her gaze to the fire, feeling the warmth of it deep in her belly. Not a day had gone by where she hadn’t thought about Henry or Sam. It had taken her a full day after their deaths to even be able to speak. The sorrow in Henry’s eyes before pulling the trigger on his own life haunted her. The pain of understanding still lingered in her chest, coming out to play every once in a while and remind her that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she worked to be a good person…she couldn’t erase what she had done.

“Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that,” Joel plainly answered, “Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but…she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.”

Ellie absorbed his answer before turning to Y/n, waiting for her reassurance.

Y/n pulled herself out of her grief, barely quirking the corners of her lips up. “It’ll work,” she replied.

Ellie seemed to accept both their responses, letting silence fill the space again until she decided it was time to end her day. “How’re we splitting up the watches?”

Joel sighed, Y/n’s gaze already waiting for him when he looked up at her.

“We’ll do ‘em both,” he answered, “Get some sleep. Dream of…” he capped the flask and exchanged it for his rifle, “Sheep ranches on the moon.”

Ellie nodded, grabbing her sleeping bag and walking to the deeper part of their hideout, “I will.”

Y/n fitted her repaired glove back on her hand, tucking them under her armpits for extra warmth. This was the hardest part of each of the day/ When it was just Joel, her and the unmentionable divide between them.

Joel tried to distract himself, gazing up at the moon and focusing on tracing the constellations around it. But the self-discipline he tried so desperately to maintain concerning Y/n was slipping, his eyes using some uncontrollable part of his mind to drift over to her.

Y/n was struggling to keep up her stoic decorum, the urge to let her and Joel’s conversations warm growing stronger and stronger. It was natural in their mutual isolations to wish for someone to talk to. But with him in front of her, the figurehead of the past she wanted so desperately to go back to…she craved a piece of a memory, any memory, that only he could give her. A short hit of dopamine to get her through the next day.

“So, Tommy,” she began, it was the only part of their past she could safely return to.

“What about him?” Joel asked.

“Is he…” Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to phrase the question right, “Is he still…Tommy?”

Joel sighed, the memories of two decades ago mixing with the last version of his brother he’d seen. “He’s still a pain in the ass, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

Y/n gave a very small smile, “But he’s still him?”

Whatever she was looking for, Joel couldn’t give her. None of them were like they’d been twenty years ago, except maybe her. She had managed to keep her humanity intact. He was darkness in both their eyes. As rough as he’d been on her at the beginning of their journey, now, he didn’t want to shatter her illusion about perhaps the one person left on the planet she loved.

“Yeah,” he replied, “He’s still him.”

Y/n nodded, deciding not to ask anything else and let the moment stay pleasant. “I can take first watch,” she volunteered.

“No, you go ahead,” Joel shook his head, “I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” Y/n replied, too tired to fight him. She grabbed her own rifle before unrolling her sleeping bag on her side of the fire, stretching out under it and using her arm as a pillow.

Joel kept his eyes off of her until the even rhythm of her breaths told him she was asleep. Then, and only then, did he let himself watch her, trying to combat the various fears that filled his head. She was there, in front of him, alive and well.

But how long could he keep her like that?

—————————

Even in his sleep, Joel couldn’t find rest.

A barrage of images, flashes of colors and echoes of screams, played through his mind. When he startled awake, like every morning past, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss.

The gun was gone.

This was it. His grand failure.

He bolted upright only to find Ellie, a few feet away, standing guard with his rifle.

“Still mumbling in your sleep,” she stated, “I woke up early. You and Y/n,” she glanced over at her still-sleeping guardian, “Were passed out, so I took second watch.”

“You gotta wake one of us up if that happens,” Joel snapped, quickly getting to his feet and crossing the distance between him and Y/n, “You can’t do things like this.”

“But I can,” Ellie smiled, “‘Cause I just did.”

Joel crouched down, shaking Y/n’s arm lightly in an effort not to startle her, “Hey.”

All credit to him for trying, Y/n still woke with a gasp. It was her basic programming.

“We’re fine, we’re fine,” Joel was quick to reassure her as she rolled onto her back.

Y/n scrunched her eyes, blinking the sleep away from them, and sat up. It was daylight. Joel hadn’t woken her up for her watch, again.

“My fault,” he accepted the blame she was getting ready to place on him before continuing his conversation with Ellie, “We’re responsible for you, okay?”

“Then don’t fall asleep,” Ellie challanged, “I was quiet, I checked my six, I looked for tracks, I found the high ground and I kept watch,” she explained as Joel approached her, “Like you taught me to. What can I say, man? I’m a natural.”

Y/n scoffed as she unzipped her sleeping bag, “And you’re not cocky about it at all.”

Joel held out a demanding hand, taking the rifle from Ellie, but accepting that she’d done the job right. “You wake us up next time,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Ellie replied, smugness evident in her tone and on her face.

Without another word, Y/n and Joel collected the few things they’d unpacked, smothered what remained of the fire, and the three of them resumed their hike to an unknown destination.

—————————

Even if they’d have been warned in graphic detail what lay over the River of Death, it wouldn’t have changed Joel and Y/n’s minds. The only way to Tommy was to risk their lives crossing, and they did so with very little hesitation.

Ellie, bless her soul, had found plenty of ways to keep herself entertained on the way, including trying to teach herself how to whistle and requesting hunting training. Joel still wouldn’t budge on the latter.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started at some point in their hike, “And I think I figured out what happened between you two.”

Joel and Y/n tensed up as they walked alongside one another, Ellie’s cleverness worked against them most of the time.

“Obviously, you two were a thing way back when in Texas,” she explained, adding a twang to the state’s name, “And then at some point, you guys break up. The ‘why’ was what was tripping me up, until I realized, boom…there was somebody else.”

Y/n forcefully exhaled, wondering whether the theory was more preferable to the truth.

“Now, I can’t quite figure out which one of you would’ve slipped up,” Ellie continued, “But even if you didn’t cheat with them, there was someone who got in between you enough to equal a big fight, throwing things at one another, screaming how much you loved each other and eventually ending with you swearing never to speak again. Which is why you two were ready to kill each other when you met in the QZ.”

Joel was near reaching his boiling point, fighting the pull to spin around to Ellie, wave a finger in her face and explain exactly how the situation had gone down. But the reality of those words finally escaping his lips and taking up space in the world was an unbearable thought.

Y/n was near breaking too, feeling the cracks in her chest begin to spread. She needed off the topic if she was going to be able to take a breath. “What the hell kind of stories were you checking out in between astronaut books?”

“Whatever,” Ellie brushed it off, “I know I’m right.”

Thankfully, she let the subject go as soon as they closed in on an old, out-of-usage dam. The water still gushed through it and into the river.

“Dam,” Ellie punned.

“You’re no Will Livingston,” Joel remarked.

“Yeah, yeah, but who is?” Ellie smiled, “So that made electricity?”

“Yeah,” Joel answered, predicting Ellie’s next question, “Don’t ask me, I don’t have a clue.”

He resumed their walk, Y/n and Ellie trailing behind.

“You know, you could have just made something up,” Ellie said, “I would’ve believed you.”

The three of them hiked a half hour more before coming up on another side of the river, or perhaps, an entirely separate one.

“Look at that river,” Ellie remarked, “It’s crazy blue.”

Y/n and Joel were hardly paying attention, both in their own separate thought bubbles. Any time the subject of their past relationship was brought up, it reset the clock on their comfort with each other and took at least an hour to warm back up to one another.

“Hey,” Ellie spoke up, “What if this…is the River of Death?”

The adults stopped in their tracks, the thought hadn’t dawned on them after the victory of crossing the first body of water. Joel whipped out their map, Y/n came to join him and the two of them examined it carefully.

“Fuck,” Y/n mumbled under her breath, pressing a hand to her temple.

“We don’t know it yet,” Joel quickly said, walking ahead a few steps to get a better view of their surroundings. Y/n followed closely, with Ellie on their heels.

A noise on the hill above them caught Y/n’s ear, her eyes lifting from the map to see a group of riders coming straight for them.

“Joel,” she shook his arm forcefully, bringing his attention upwards.

At the first glimpse, Joel grabbed Ellie��s free hand, Y/n taking the other, and they bolted for the forest. There were enough riders to circle them in, aiming their rifles at them and cutting off any escape route they could have found. They were fucked.

“Get behind me,” Joel told Ellie and Y/n, only the youngest of the two listened to him. The three of them held their hands up, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the guns,” one of the riders ordered.

Slowly, Y/n and Joel slipped their rifles off of their shoulders and placed them on the ground.

“You,” the same guy nodded to Ellie, “Take five steps back.”

“We can talk through this,” Y/n said, her voice gained strength the moment Ellie was addressed.

“How about you shut the fuck up?”

“Okay,” Joel spoke quickly, his hand instinctively flinching towards Y/n’s as she was threatened, “Easy,” he looked behind to Ellie and said with a low voice, “You’ll be okay.”

Ellie backed up reluctantly, her eyes darting between the riders, Y/n and Joel.

“You been near any Infected?”

“There’s no Infected out here,” Joel answered the man.

“The hell there ain’t,” the rider replied, whistling immediately after. One of them walked a dog, a German Shepherd, forward. He was barking wildly. “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

Y/n and Joel’s blood ran cold.

The dog came forward, sniffing from Joel’s boots up to his torso, and deeming him safe. He went through the same motions with Y/n before walking back to its keeper. Joel and Y/n felt the same hesitant relief, could they really make it out of this?

“Like I said,” Joel said, “We’ll just move on.”

But life wasn’t that merciful to them. “Now her,” the rider nodded back to Ellie.

Y/n turned to face the girl, Ellie’s eyes widened with childlike fear. There was nothing Y/n could do to help. The second she raised her pistol, she’d be dead. They’d know they were hiding something and they’d shoot Ellie too. But if she stayed perfectly still, resting all of her hope on a blind theory, maybe…just maybe…

Joel wasn’t thinking hardly as rationally as his ex. His ears began to ring, his heart began to race, all his senses blinding him with terror as the dog approached. He was helpless again, his hands tied behind his back as he watched someone he cared about die a slow, meaningless de-

Ellie giggled.

Y/n huffed a sigh of relief at the sound, her and Joel turning to see the dog licking Ellie’s face. She fell back onto the snow, laughing and scratching the animal’s neck. When she smiled up at them, Joel and Y/n felt the oxygen return to their lungs.

The rider whistled for the dog to return, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?”

It took Joel a few of those seconds to come back to his surroundings, “We’re just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.”

“Ho!”

The rider to the left of the one threatening them nudged her horse forward, stopping a few feet closer to Joel and Y/n. “What’re your names?”

“Joel,” he answered.

“Y/n.”

The woman looked them over, her bandana covering all but her eyes. “I can take you to your brother,” she finally said.

Joel’s lips parted in shock, instantly tilting his head to gaze over at Y/n, who wore the same surprise. Tommy was alive.

The woman called back to one of the riders, ordering them to go retrieve the two extra horses they’d left to graze. They were brought back, saddled and all, and Joel, Y/n and Ellie were directed to get on them.

Y/n jumped on one first, her and Joel both helping Ellie onto the rear of the saddle.

“You hold on and you don’t let go, alright?” Y/n said, wrapping the reins of the bridle around her fist. It had been a long time since she’d ridden.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed, locking her arms around Y/n’s middle.

Joel promptly mounted his own horse, nudging his them closer to ride alongside Y/n and Ellie.

“Let’s move out,” the woman called to the group.

They rode about fifteen minutes, galloping further west. In the distance, a building could barely be made out. The closer they got, the more Y/n and Joel could tell it was a fort. The party slowed as they approached the gate, two riders getting off their horses to help open it up. Joel and Y/n followed without question, despite having a dozen.

Y/n’s breath caught at the sight inside the walls.

It was a town. A proper fucking town.

Unlike the QZ, the place they were looked whole, kept up. The buildings weren’t crumbling, they stood firmly planted in the ground. All around them, people were strolling, not running. Children were screaming in play, not in fear. There were even snowmen lining the outside of one of the storefronts.

Y/n wanted to look back at Joel, to make sure he was seeing it too. She instead kept her eyes forward, scanning over her surroundings in awe.

Joel was entirely confused, but otherwise occupied by checking each and every face they passed to see if it was Tommy. Eventually, the sounds of construction instinctively brought his attention to the side of a building where two men were hard at work. The second silhouette, a tall, thin, dark haired man, didn’t require an extra second of examination. Joel knew it was his brother.

“Tommy,” he shouted.

Y/n followed Joel’s line of vision and let out a hushed gasp.

Tommy looked up from his work, scanning the group for the familiar voice. His eyes fell on his brother, shock freezing him for a few seconds before he began to climb down the scaling.

Joel slid off his horse, his steps quickening as relief flooded his body. Tommy strode towards him, the two of them meeting in a solid, long overdue, embrace.

Tommy laughed into Joel’s shoulder before pulling back to get a good look at him, “What the fuck you doin’ here?”

Joel took a breath, taking in their surroundings, “I came here to save you.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed while Joel exploded into a fit of laughter, the two of them pulling each other back in.

Y/n wound her leg over her horse, dropping to the ground and handing Ellie the reins. She kept her distance as she watched the brothers reunite, a sharp pain running through her chest she hadn’t felt in two decades. But when Tommy opened his eyes, gazing over Joel’s shoulder, he straightened up.

Tommy looked between his brother and Y/n, dumbfounded by the sight of them in the same vicinity. He broke away from Joel, walking the distance before matching Y/n’s quickened jog, and lifted the woman into his arms.

As soon as Tommy embraced her, Y/n’s long-held tears began to fall.

“What the hell?” Tommy asked, his mouth muffled against Y/n’s coat.

Y/n was too overwhelmed to explain anything.

“I tried,” Tommy rushed out, having held onto those two words for twenty years, “I tried to find you, I couldn’t.”

“I know,” Y/n sniffled, “I know.”

Cleared of any wrongdoing in her eyes, Tommy held Y/n a little tighter and pulled her off her feet. She laughed as she cried, digging her face into the denim of Tommy’s jacket.

If Joel had thought he could handle the reunion, he’d been wrong. The sight of his brother and his ex, so thrilled to be in each other’s presence again, split him. It was the first time in three months he’d seen Y/n genuinely happy, so full of joy she was brought to tears.

Joel could feel his own eyes growing wet.

Tommy set Y/n back on the ground, keeping an arm around her shoulders and looking to Joel. When Y/n and Joel’s gazes met, there was no trying to hide any of what they were feeling. It was a heavy moment, but a joyous one, and they had to sit with it.

“Y’all must be starving,” Tommy said, “Let’s head to the mess hall, give us some time to talk.”

The rest of the riders trailed off, leaving Joel, Y/n, Ellie, Tommy and the dark skinned woman who had led brought them there. Y/n and Joel remained on foot with Tommy, though Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s reins all the way to the mess hall.

Inside, the woman Tommy introduced as Maria, made special effort to get Joel, Ellie and Y/n hot plates of food. Weeks of mostly rabbit had them shoveling their meals into their mouths, none of them even asked what they’d been served.

“There’s more if you need it,” Maria offered, her and Tommy sitting across from the threesome.

Joel looked up from his plate, “Thank you, ma’am. It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie interjected in between bites, “This is fuckin’ amazing.”

Y/n took her eyes off her plate to shoot Ellie a raised eyebrow.

Joel’s southern upbringing turned him white with shock, he quickly looked up to Maria. “Sorry. Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

Tommy smiled at his brother, it all sounded very familiar…

Ellie looked across the room, spotting a girl watching her from behind a wooden beam. She glared back at her curious stare, “What?”

Y/n pressed a finger to her temple, “Ellie…”

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel asked.

“What about her manners?” Ellie replied.

“She was just curious,” Maria cut in, “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right…” Ellie was unimpressed, “Well…maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.”

“They also aren’t armed,” Marie replied, the group had been forced to check their guns at the front door.

“You know what?” Tommy jumped in, “Uh, I think maybe y’all got a little off on the wrong foot.”

Ellie gestured to the woman, “She was gonna have her guys kill us.”

“Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let into this place,” Tommy explained, “But it’s all bark. We’re just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all.”

“Well,” Ellie returned to her plate, “You’ve got a couple of 90-year olds shitting themselves out there.”

Joel and Y/n’s heads turned at the same time, “Ellie.”

“They say that you leave dead bodies laying around?” Ellie continued her tirade.

“Those are the people that tried us,” Maria said.

“A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad,” Tommy stated.

“Not always at least,” Maria added, staring right at Joel.

The tension at the table was palpable, Joel, Y/n and Ellie all wating for Maria’s glare to soften. That wasn’t going to happen.

“Ma’am,” Joel’s voice firmed up, while still retaining its southern pleasantness, “We’re grateful for your hospitality and all,” he looked expectantly to Tommy, “But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”

Family, and whatever Y/n and Ellie were.

Tommy was half holding his breath as he leaned forward, “Well, um,” he took his wife’s hand, “Maria is family, actually.”

Y/n nearly had the wind knocked out of her, thankful she didn’t have a piece of food in her mouth.

“Oh, shit!” Ellie put together the pieces, “Congrats.”

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off of their clasped palms, painfully transfixed by the bands around their fourth fingers.

“Yeah,” Y/n added, quickly trying to adjust to the idea of Tommy as a husband, “Congratulations.”

“Joel,” Ellie lowered her voice, “Say congrats.”

It was going to take a hell of a lot more time for Joel to absorb the news. “Congrats,” he attempted.

It wasn’t that it was awkward, it was that the ever present dagger in Joel’s heart suddenly twisted.

“Well, how ‘bout a tour?” Tommy suggested, eager to exchange the tension for some fresh air.

“Great idea,” Y/n replied, wiping her mouth off and rising before anyone else. There was a pit of anxiety slowly and steadily building in her stomach and she needed to walk it off.

They were quick to find out that the heart of the town looked even nicer than the edge.

“We settled here about seven years ago,” Maria told the group, “Just a handful of us back then,” she pointed down the middle of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.”

Joel, Y/n and Ellie stayed in a horizontal line behind Maria and Tommy, the foreign environment causing them to want to stick closer together. Unwittingly, Ellie was once again being made the barrier between Joel and Y/n.

“And you said Infected?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, but usually smaller colonies,” Tommy answered, “Wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here…” he looked back to his brother, “It’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub-MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from a half-mile out.”

Ellie’s ears perked up, “Can you teach me how?”

“No, he can’t,” Joel was quick to shoot down the idea.

“How do you keep off the radar?” Y/n asked, “I mean, using all these resources, how has FEDRA not tracked you guys down?”

“Carefully,” Maria answered, “Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.”

Tommy snuck a look to Joel, who had come up alongside him. There was the answer he’d been waiting three months for.

“House of worship,” Maria continued to talk through the buildings, “Multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that we’ve needed it.”

Joel’s eyes drew upwards to the electrical lines, “And you draw power from the dam?”

“Got that workin’ a couple years ago,” Maria answered, “After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters…lights.”

“This place actually fuckin’ works,” Ellie remarked as she walked, leaving Joel and Y/n behind.

If Y/n thought she’d gotten a taste of normality back at Bill and Frank’s house, this felt like some sort of starvation induced hallucination. Except there was food in her belly and ice cold air in her lungs, it was all real.

Tommy and Maria led them towards the agricultural section of town, rows of greenhouses and animal pens lining their way.

“Hey, Joel, look,” Ellie pointed to the heard of sheep ahead of them, “Baaah,” she laughed before turning to Maria, “So are you, like, in charge?”

“No one person’s in charge,” Maria responded, “I’m on the council, democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.”

“Everything you see in our town,” Tommy gestured around them, “Greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership.”

��So, uh,” Joel figured, “Communism.”

Tommy was quick to scoff, “Nah. Nah, it ain’t like that.”

“It is that, literally,” Maria turned to her husband, “This is a commune. We’re communists.”

Tommy stopped short as the realization hit him, Joel and Y/n trailing behind purely to watch his full reaction.

“Easy there, soldier,” Y/n smirked, patting him on the shoulder while Joel matched her expression.

Rejoining Maria and Ellie, where Ellie was petting one of the horses poking their heads out of the stables, Maria changed subjects.

“Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes,” she addressed Tommy, “We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, looking to Joel and Y/n, “It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03, but it’s the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.”

“Oh, trust me,” Ellie spoke up, “We have been.”

“We’ve been doin’ fine,” Joel defended them, nervously rubbing his hands together. He needed to talk to his brother, just them.

Y/n was absentmindedly tapping her foot, matching Joel’s energy. The town itself was lovely, and Joel was bearable, but there was something about the combination of the two that was making her feel uneasy.

“Well,” Maria picked up on the mood, “I’ll take Ellie over there if you three wanna catch up?”

“Uh,” Y/n raised her hand quickly, “I’d actually love to join you.”

Tommy started to speak up, he was more than curious as to how Y/n and Joel had reunited. One look at the readiness in Joel’s eyes to be without her ceased his tongue from moving.

Ellie, however, had started to require both Joel and Y/n’s presence with her. Without one, she was restless. “Joel…”

“You’ll be fine,” Joel reassured her as he and Tommy walked off. He managed not to seek out Y/n’s eyes, it felt like the first time in days he’d had any control.

Y/n expected that parting from Joel would give her instant relief, but even when Maria led her and Ellie to their lodging, it didn’t come. In fact, the more distance they put between each other, the deeper Y/n could feel the anxiety within her. She was miserable with him and unsettled without him.

The house Maria assigned them was lovely, modest yet welcoming. Y/n nearly felt her heart break walking in, feeling the warmth of the air flood her body. It was like stepping back in time, a piece of seemingly meaningless history preserved perfectly.

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you,” Maria told Ellie, pointing up the stairs, “First door on the left. There should be a towel and soap already there.”

Ellie looked expectantly to Y/n.

“I’ve got a few things to grab over at my place,” Maria said, “Maybe Y/n could help me?”

“Go,” Y/n nodded to the girl, “I’ll be back.”

Ellie filed upstairs, leaving Y/n and Maria to themselves. Maria made sure to lock the door on her way out, handing Y/n the key after.

“There’s only one, so don’t lose it,” she noted, leading Y/n across the street to her and Tommy’s house. The house felt much the same as the other one did, a few differences in designs, but nothing spectacular.

Maria began to rifle through a closet near the downstairs bathroom while Y/n meandered through the living room.

“Y’know, Tommy told me about you,” Maria called from across the room, “I’ve only heard your name once or twice. Every other time, he just referred to you as Rosebud.”

The nickname sent a sickening pain through Y/n’s stomach. “Oh, yeah,” she tried to play it off nonchalantly, “He gave me that nickname the night I met him and…”

“Joel?” Maria finished, popping her head out to try and get a read on Y/n’s reaction. She had a lot of feelings regarding her husband’s brother.

All Y/n felt capable of doing was nodding, blindly feeling around for the chair closest to her. She wandered the room, her eyes drifting to the fireplace before scanning her way up and-

Her heart stopped.

Sat on the mantle was a chalkboard, two names and two dates written across it.

Kevin - 4/3/00 - 9/29/03

Sarah - 7/20/89 - 9/27/03

Negative emotions always tended to stay right below the surface, regardless of the cliches about burying them. They were easily accessible under the right conditions, and if the wound was deep enough, it didn’t take much to trigger them. Y/n was already on the edge, teetering between holding onto the last bit of anger that had fueled her the past twenty years and collapsing under the weight of her grief.

Sarah’s name decided her fate.

And she crumbled.

—————————

“Those things I did, Tommy, those things you judge me for…I did those things to keep us alive.”

“We did those things,” Tommy pushed back, “And they weren’t “things’,” we murdered people. And I don’t judge you for it, we survived the only way we knew how…but there were other ways. We just weren’t any good at ‘em,” he paused, preparing himself for Joel’s reaction, “But I do judge you for what you did to Y/n.”

Joel sighed, he couldn’t take it. He physically could not handle discussing that day with Tommy.

“Joel, you l-“

“I know what I did,” Joel’s voice rose, he held up a hand more to calm himself than anything else.

“And now, twenty years later, here she is,” Tommy gestured to the door as if Y/n was right outside, “Do you even know where she’s been? What she’s been through? ‘Cause I don’t! And I’d have liked to know.”

Joel’s anxiety was beginning to bubble in his stomach, the vines climbing up his throat, ready to choke the life out of him.

“Have the two of you even talked about it?” Tommy asked calmly, his own emotions on the verge of showing.

Joel gripped the bar counter so hard, he thought he might snap the wood. He rolled the cold glass in his palm, trying to hold onto anything he could, as if it could save him from being sucked back into the vortex that was the past…

—————————

September 28th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

Cordyceps.

It was the only word people were capable of saying.

Cordyceps.

One little strand of fungi had taken out the entire world.

Joel, Y/n and Tommy ended up quarantined at a triage clinic. It was deemed one of the only “safe zones” for non-infected citizens. Dozens and dozens of people, crammed into a tiny building, practically sleeping on one another.

Joel had yet to string more than two words together since Sarah’s death. He was nearly unreachable. It was tragic enough for a parent to lose a child, it was another thing to cradle your daughter as she bleeds out in your arms.

Y/n felt like she was moving through cement, unable to fully comprehend what was going on around them. Her grief was overwhelming her, leaving her no more than twenty minute interludes between fits of wailing. But with Joel completely decommissioned, she was forced to rise to the occasion and take charge of their situation.

She returned from another attempt to reach her parent’s house, her cell phone getting no reception. She’d also tried the pay phone and Joel and Tommy’s phones. Nothing.

Y/n settled beside Joel in their corner of their hallway, it was nearly empty on account of it being the middle of the day. Most people took their walks around then. Tommy had volunteered to go out on patrol with a couple other veterans that were there.

“I still can’t get through,” Y/n started, hugging her knees to her chest, “Tried my parents, Annie, Jason…” she thought of her siblings, “Nothing.”

Joel didn’t even acknowledge her presence, he just kept staring down the hall.

“I have to get up there, Joel,” Y/n finally said, the thought had been keeping her awake all night, “I have to find them, make sure they’re okay.”

Many people assume that grief is but one emotion; sorrow. A deep sea of pain that you are thrown into without a floatiation device. But those who have never experienced it know not of the vastness of grief. There is anger, there is frustration, there is betrayal, there is jealousy…all of which can change you into an entirely different person.

And Joel was slipping away by the second.

“Joel, I have to go,” Y/n spelled it out in simpler terms for him.

Nothing.

“And I can’t go alone…” Y/n continued, worried that he had completely shut down. She rolled onto her knees, taking one of Joel’s cheek into her palm, “Joel, I need you.”

Joel stared forward, motionless.

Y/n was flying blind, unsure of how much was too much talking or how little she was supposed to be acknowledging Sarah’s death. But the world was, quite literally, falling apart. She couldn’t navigate the wreckage on her own.

“Joel,” she whispered, “I know it hurts-“

“Don’t,” Joel turned to her, the speed of it causing Y/n to pull her hand back, “Don’t.”

Y/n’s eyebrows came down in confusion, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t you act like you know what I’m feelin’,” he snapped, tears filling his eyes.

Of all the reactions, Y/n couldn’t have ever predicted this one.

“Joel, I was there too,” she replied, keeping her tone gentle, “I was-“

Joel pointed his finger at Y/n, their faces inches apart. “I’m her father,” he gritted through his teeth, “You were a bystander. They are not the same.”

Y/n inched back, bracing her body with her hands. He’d never so much as raised his voice at her.

As much as she wanted to let him grieve, she couldn’t let him descend into hostility. She wasn’t sure if her tactic would hurt him further or allow him to see the truth, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Joel…” she began, he was back staring numbly at the wall again. Y/n drew a shaky breath, the memory was so fresh in her mind, she could still hear Sarah’s voice. “She called me mom.”

If there was one thing about Joel’s reaction to his daughter’s death, it was the sheer delirium it threw his brain into. Much like Cordyceps, it was ripping through every cell of his body, changing the fundamentals of every inch. Whatever reaction he may have had to the news of Sarah’s decision had been poisoned by what he was allowing her loss to do to him.

He locked his hands together, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. Shutting his eyes, he let his head drop between his arms and took a shallow breath. “No, she didn’t.”

Y/n was afraid his mind was slipping away from her. “Joel, she did,” she continued, trying to push past the lump in her throat, “I went upstairs to bed a-and she called out for me.”

“She didn’t,” Joel repeated, his hands practically shaking with rage.

“Joel,” Y/n began, reaching up to touch his arm.

“NO!”

Joel jumped to his feet, his shout echoing in the empty room. He’d scared Y/n enough for her to fall back against the wall.

“She didn’t fuckin’ say it,” Joel aimed his finger at his girlfriend again, “You weren’t her damn mother.”

Y/n stared up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter if you wanted to be,” Joel kept going, “Doesn’t matter if you tried. You weren’t. You were some fuckin’ woman livin’ in her house.”

Y/n got to her feet, trying ever so hard to be patient with Joel’s grief. But she wasn’t going to allow him to take her last normal moment she’d had with Sarah away from her.

���You weren’t there,” she argued back, “It happened, whether or not you want to believe it,” Y/n pointed a finger at her own chest, “She chose me.”

“You’re fuckin’ lyin’,” Joel growled, spinning away from Y/n and putting his hands to his hips. He couldn’t look at her.

Y/n was entirely lost, praying that Tommy returned soon. She couldn’t manage Joel in this state on her own.

Joel couldn’t see straight, let alone think straight. Only one thing seemed to ring true in his mind; Y/n was lying. She was a liar. She was lying about his dead daughter. What kind of monster would lie about a dead child?

Like a snowball rolling down a mountain, Joel’s delirious realization began to make sense, leaving him with only one course of action.

“I’m done.”

Y/n could barely register the sudden shift, from anger to calm. “What?”

Joel turned back to her, sweeping his hand through the air, “I’m done. We’re done.”

The air thickened suddenly, the stakes of his statement as important as the next breath Y/n drew.

“Joel-“

“No,” he shook his head quickly, “This is over. I’m not gonna stay with you when you’re lyin’ about my child-“

Y/n took an urgent step forward, reaching out for his arm, “Joel-“

“You don’t get to try and make yourself feel better about her now that she’s g-“ Joel choked on the word, flipping back to grief for a mere second, “Oh, God…”

Y/n was on the verge of panic, he was completely out of his mind. “Joel,” she urged, “Don’t do this. Take a breath and-“

Just like that, he was engorged in rage again. “Don’t. Don’t fuckin’ touch me, don’t even fuckin’ look at me.”

“Joel,” Y/n cried, her tears streaming down her face, “I love you. I’m here and I love you.”

Through the haze of insanity, Joel could feel her words. They wrapped around him, cradling him close to the warmth of her chest. He could almost feel something again, something pure and safe…it nearly pulled him back to shore.

Nearly.

Joel crossed the space between them, lowering his voice to a growl, “Well, I don’t love you.”

If there was an exact moment to point to as to when Y/n’s heart shattered, it was then. The force of Sarah’s death weighed so heavily on her chest, she was convinced she was in the midst of a heart attack. But when two tragedies occurred, so close together, it was always the second one that broke a person beyond repair. The second is unexpected, pushing you into a new level of grief you didn’t think you could feel. That was the one that could drive you to madness.

Snot and tears mixing across her lips, Y/n shook her head. “You don’t mean that,” she mumbled.

“I do,” Joel replied, his voice so full of confidence, “You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Y/n felt like she was drowning, kicking and flailing under the waters, trying to find some way to make Joel believe her. To pull him out of his delusions.

The two lovers stood in the hall of the clinic, squaring off in a battle neither one of them knew how to fight. Their heartbreak was manifesting in completely opposite ways.

Scanning her face once more, to remember in the years to come, Joel turned on his heel and walked away from Y/n.

“W-wait,” she trembled, quickly following after him, “Where are you going?”

“To find Tommy,” Joel said, his fists curled at his sides as he marched through the clinic.

“Joel, stop,” Y/n begged, trying to keep up with his pace, “Joel!”

Joel made his way outside, where the clinic was still accepting injured civilians. All around them was tragedy, while one was unfolding between them.

“Joel,” Y/n called again, six feet behind him, the grief in her bones slowing her down, “Joel, you can’t go out there. Tommy said-“

“Don’t tell me what my own brother said,” Joel practically shouted, refusing to look back at her. He needed a quick escape.

Scanning the makeshift parking lot around them, he spotted an F1-50. He stalked towards it as if it were prey.

“Joel,” Y/n called in between her sobs, she was more terrified for him than anything else.

Once he got to the truck’s door, Joel slammed his fist without hesitation through the glass window.

“Joel!” Y/n cried, watching the blood begin to trickle down his knuckles.

Joel reached through the shattered window, felt around for the lock/unlock button on the door and clicked it. He threw the door open and got inside, the glass on the seat cutting through his jeans and into his thighs.

Y/n surged forward, Joel’s absolute insanity was becoming real. He was actually leaving her. She took hold of the door handle, “Joel, don’t. Don’t,” she hyperventilated, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t. I can’t.”

Her pleas began to crack the ice around his heart, just enough for him to allow another gust of icy wind through his chest. He became indifferent to her cries.

Joel slammed the door shut, the force of it pulling Y/n forward.

“Joel, don’t do this,” she sobbed, clinging to the side of the truck, “I love you. I love you. We can get through this. We can get through this.”

Joel felt around for the keys, finding them conveniently left in the ignition. He switched the truck on.

Y/n’s chest heaved, her window for reasoning with him closing. “No, Joel. Don’t do this! I love you, please, don’t do this.”

Joel’s body trembled, some sane part of him knowing that was he was doing was inhumane. But grief’s noose tightened around his throat, reminding him that the sicker state of mind was where he belonged now. His heart was nothing more than a liability now.

He pressed down on the gas pedal.

“No,” Y/n yelled as the truck shifted, she was practically tripping in the dirt trying to move with it, “Joel, don’t! Don’t do this to me! Please! Don’t do this to me!”

Joel ignored her cries, turning the truck towards the open road.

“Don’t do this,” Y/n shouted, her voice straining and fluctuating with her tears. If he didn’t stop soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with the truck. “Joel!”

The final cry did it, Joel couldn’t handle any more. He pressed down further on the pedal, jolting the truck forward.

Y/n was able to catch one last look at him, a final glimpse at the man she loved with her whole heart, leaving her as if she was nothing more than a dead body already. When her hand slipped from the truck, Joel having sped up to escape her, she knew he was forever lost to her.

She stopped running, screaming into the cloud of dirt he’d left, “JOEL!”

Y/n watched him steer the truck out of the clinic’s lot, pulling onto the dirt alongside the road and driving off. Her wet eyes followed the blur until it was completley out of sight.

That was when she fell apart.

She dropped to the ground, screeching like a wounded animal, clutching the ground underneath her fingers. She screamed loud enough for a clinic staff member to rush out, reaching out to help her. Y/n wrenched out of their loving grip, shrieking for them not to touch her. She didn’t want their oxygen masks, their sedatives or their counseling.

Sarah was gone. Joel had abandoned her. If this was death coming to collect her, she would go willingly into its embrace.

—————————

December 2023. Jackson, Wyoming.

Y/n dropped to her knees in the middle of Maria and Tommy’s living room, clutching her stomach.

“I think I found everything,” Maria announced, walking out from the closet and spotting Y/n. She rushed across the room, kneeling down beside her.

Silent sobs turned to violent ones, shaking Y/n’s body with a force she hadn’t felt in twenty years. Unlike that fateful day, Y/n allowed Maria’s caring arms to wrap around her as she wept.

“I’m sorry,” the kind woman said, pressing close to Y/n’s ear.

There was nothing anyone could say to put any of the pieces back together. Every part of Y/n’s grief over Sarah’s death, Joel’s abandonment, the choices she’d had to make after she was left on her own…it was all coming to the surface after three months of repression. The physicality of her sobs exhausted her less than the act of holding herself together in front of Ellie and Joel.

Five minutes or a half hour, Y/n wasn’t sure how long she spent on the floor, Maria cradling her as if she were a child. At some point, the tears stopped and she was once again aware of her surroundings.

“Tommy told me all about you,” Maria said, still holding Y/n, “About your family. How good you were with Sarah.”

Y/n sniffled, fighting the urge to gaze back up at the girl’s chalk-written name. It would only send her back into tears.

“It doesn’t matter what happened between you and Joel,” Maria continued, clearly she knew a lot more than perhaps she should have, “You helped raise that girl. Far as I’m concerned, you should feel a mother’s grief.”

A mumbled cry bubbled from Y/n’s lips. Every day she felt the loss of Sarah like that of a lost limb, the phantom pain constantly pulling at her body.

—————————

“I’m gonna be a father.”

Tommy’s words paralyzed Joel, he physically lost the sensation of his heartbeat, his breath…it all stopped, allowing grief and bitterness to fill the hollowness within him.

“To be honest, I’m scared to death,” Tommy lifted his glass to his lips, “But I don’t know, uh…” he smiled, “I feel like I’d be a good dad.”

Joel wanted to scream, he wanted to punch a hole through the fucking wall to counter the pain of the universe’s cruel slap.

“Guess we’ll find out,” he replied, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and refilling his glass.

“‘I guess we’ll find out?’” Tommy repeated, practically indignant as he looked to his big brother, “That’s all you got?”

Joel settled against the bar, keeping a firm stare on Tommy, “What else am I supposed to say?”

Tommy got to his feet, exhausted by bearing the brunt of Joel’s grief. “Just because life stopped for you,” he said, “Doesn’t mean it has to stop for me.”

Much like after losing Sarah, Joel was acting purely on emotion. The world had ripped away everything from him, and here Tommy was, with everything he’d almost had.

“We’ll grab some supplies and be out of your hair in the mornin’,” Joel bit out, turning from his brother and grabbing his jacket. He burst outside into the cold air.

—————————

“I, uh,” Y/n sniffled, trying to collect herself, “I should get back to Ellie.”

“Don’t worry,” Maria said softly, “I’ll take care of her. You take a moment to yourself.”

Y/n practically scoffed at the idea, she hadn’t had a second to herself in three months. But the tension within her was so great, she didn’t have the will to fight Maria on the offer.

“Thank you,” she laid a hand on Maria’s arm, letting the woman help her to her feet.

Y/n stumbled out into the cold, trying to absorb the sound of the children’s playful screams, the crunch of the snow under her boots, the feel of her breath slamming back into her face each time she exhaled…she’d had anxiety attacks before. Taking stock of your surroundings was supposed to help.

Except she was too far gone for coping strategies, she needed alcohol and she needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood.

On their way in, Maria had led them past a bar, and Y/n felt like a bloodhound, tracing her way back through the crowds to find it. The world may have changed, but she knew she’d find exactly who she needed at the counter with a thing of whiskey in his hand…

—————————

Joel stumbled out into the snow, leaning up against a metal lightpost. His breath was catching, his heart pounding out of his chest, the tinnitus flooding his ears once again…

Once upon a time, Tommy’s life had been his. He’d had his daughter, so bright and beautiful. A home that they’d made their own, despite the wounds that had led them there. And Y/n, his Y/n, the missing piece of his and Sarah’s life, a ring nearly on her finger…

And as much as he wanted to blame Cordyceps for losing all of it, he was hardly faultless.

He’d had twenty years of guilt soaked isolation, trying to convince himself that what his grief riddled self had thought was truth. Y/n had to have lied for him to continue on with life, because he couldn’t face the alternate. He couldn’t believe that he had abandoned her for no good reason…

It was a conclusion he’d come to weeks ago, the more time he spent with her reminding her of who she really was.

Across the way, there were families gathered around the Christmas tree. Joel’s eyes mindlessly drifted over them, catching on one woman’s silhouette. Her head of curls, the weightlessness of her voice…in his panicked state, it was Sarah.

He took clunky steps forward, chasing the illusion that his daughter was standing in front of him. He wanted, needed to believe it to be true. There had been some terrible mistake, they’d abandoned her body too soon and by the grace of God, she was-

A small child ran up to the woman, revealing her true face.

Joel stopped, his heartbreak pulling him back to reality. This was how far his mind could take him under the worst circumstances. He was convincing himself that his daughter was still alive and twenty years prior, he’d convinced himself that the love of his life was a liar.

It was grief that stood every chance at breaking him.

—————————

Y/n crossed through the middle of town, spotting the Christmas tree and the surrounding crowd singing and chattering around it. She couldn’t handle the sight, ducking into the bar as quick as she could.

Tommy turned around, glaring at the door, ready to rip into Joel further. “Oh,” he muttered, putting away his anger at the sight of Y/n, “Thought you were Joel.”

“I’m thankful you’re not,” Y/n remarked, walking to the counter and spotting the open whiskey bottle. He was everywhere she looked.

She reached over the counter and grabbed a glass, filling it a little over halfway, “You two not getting along?”

Tommy sighed, rolling his glass in his palm. “Complicated,” he answered, “But I’m preachin’ to the choir, aren’t I?”

Y/n bristled, lifting the glass to her lips and letting the burn of her throat force her into feeling something.

“Maria’s pregnant,” Tommy blurted out.

Y/n’s arm fell to the bar, the glass hitting it hard. To say she was shocked would have been a gross understatement.

Tommy smiled up at her, “That so hard to believe?”

“Well, you gotta cut me a little slack here,” Y/n replied, dazed, “The last time I knew you, there was a new girl every week. I was kinda half-convinced you already had a kid.”

Tommy chuckled, he’d missed her so much. He considered Y/n another loss from Cordyceps, though it chose his brother’s grief as its medium.

“I…” Y/n pulled out the barstool next to him and sat down, her mouth still agape, “How do you feel about it?”

“Good,” he nodded, “I think. Maria’s already been a mom before, but…I really do think I could be a good dad.”

Y/n rested her hand on Tommy’s wrist, drawing his eyes to her. “You’ll make a great dad,” she said, proud and with a smile. It was the first good look at him she’d gotten. Though he sported a few more wrinkles and scars, a mustache now hanging over his upper lip, his eyes still held the same sparkle.

Tommy beamed back at her, laying his hand over hers. The warmth shared between siblings still flowed between them.

“So that’s why…” Y/n glanced at the door, absentmindedly pointing outside.

“Yep,” Tommy turned back to his whiskey.

“Oh,” Y/n murmured, so caught up in the beauty of the news that she hadn’t thought about how Joel might have reacted.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Tommy asked.

Y/n shook her head with a small smirk, “C’mon, it’s been twenty years but you don’t have to be formal.”

It wasn’t formality, it was handling gasoline near a wildfire.

“How the hell are you two doin’ this?” Tommy asked, setting down his glass to give the topic his full attention.

In her anxious state, Y/n hadn’t stopped to think that Tommy would bring up the very thing she was running from.

“There were…” Y/n cleared her throat, “A lot of threats the first few days. Lots of hate. Mostly from me. But we had to…come to some sort of truce if we were going to get through this.”

“Joel told me you’re with the kid,” Tommy cut in, “She’s not yours?”

Y/n snorted, “No. But she’s…” she paused, unprepared to unpack what Ellie meant to her, “She wasn’t going with Joel unless I came with. So really, she’s to blame for all this.”

Tommy chuckled, taking a quick sip before repeating the same question he’d asked Joel, “You two talked about what happened yet?”

Y/n shrugged, feeling the weight of twenty years in her shoulders, “What’s there to talk about?”

“I think there’s everything to fuckin’ talk about,” Tommy replied.

The seat was suddenly digging into her thighs and there were electric currents in her legs. Y/n slid off the barstool, trying to take slow steps around the bar counter to deescalate her body’s nervous energy.

“How long did it take him to tell you what happened?” Y/n asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Ah, the full story?” Tommy said, shaking his head slightly, “All I heard when I got back from patrol was you two had broken up. I finally got it all pieced together after about two years. Gave him hell for it too.”

Y/n’s smile was filled with frustration, she threw back the last of her whiskey.

“I looked for you,” Tommy said, reiterating what he’d said at the gate, “I mean, I combed every fuckin’ inch of that place tryin’ to find you. I wasn’t gonna leave you.”

“I know,” Y/n replied, slipping behind the counter to pour herself another glass, “I figured that out at some point. That you wouldn’t have gone along with that…”

Tommy watched Y/n’s face carefully, a new emotion covering the expanse every few seconds.

“You don’t actually believe what he said, do you?”

Y/n poured a shot of a random liquor, “Why shouldn’t I believe him?”

“C’mon,” Tommy turned to her, “He was out of his mind with grief, we all were. He wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n raised a hand to her head, “Are you defending him?”

“Hell no,” Tommy gave a firm shake of his head, “I’m tryin’ to make you understand that he lied. He was lying. He didn’t stop lovin’ you, he-“

“Stop,” Y/n forcefully set the bottle down on the counter, some of it spilling out the top, “Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

Tommy settled down in his seat, unaware he’d lifted off it while talking.

“You have no idea what I went through after he left,” Y/n struggled, her voice threatening to cease up, “What I had to do…” she sniffled, unable to hide the tears, “And then he came back. He fucking came back, and I haven’t been able to escape him for three months.”

Staying silent and still, Tommy allowed her the space to purge everything out of her system.

“And now we’re here,” Y/n gestured around them, her voice growing watery, “And it’s so fucking beautiful, I could cry. Look at me, I am,” she paused, squirming under the pressure of the sob building within her, “And it’s killing me. It’s killing me. To be here, to see you, to see all that…”

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter. All that they could have had.

“I can’t,” Y/n held up a shaking hand, “I can’t…be near him right now. Because all I see is her, is us…and it’s fucking breaking me.”

Tommy looked down at his glass, wondering whether or not he was about to push too far. “That doesn’t sound like hate to me.”

Y/n’s bottom lip trembled, she knew exactly what it was. And she’d have rather died than admit it.

“Well, it needs to be,” she whispered.

——————

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[thegildedbee]

Apology/Imperfect: May 23 & 24 Prompts from @calaisreno

This latest chapter and the previous ones are here at ao3. ..................................................................................

In and of itself, the passing of time had not yet begun to blunt whatever was continuing to tear at him in losing Sherlock; in and of itself it had not offered a pathway forward. His impulse to revisit the beginning had surprised John –.he had no idea if this flight of fancy (and of his feet) would worsen his situation; although he’d wager that "worse" was not a possibility. But the impetuosity had sparked his synapses, and as he buys his ticket for the train, he knows that it is the right thing to do, even if he cannot put words as to why.

On the day after Sherlock had come into his life, the “pink lady,” Jennifer Wilson, had traveled from Cardiff to London; nearly two years later, his remembrance of her existence had prompted John to travel in reverse, allowing the train to carry him further back in time the nearer they drew to Wales. Six minutes from Paddington, as the train accelerates to its running speed of 125 miles an hour, he realizes that he has no idea what he will do once the train pulls into the station. He takes himself to task, wondering if what he’ll do is to step out on the platform, consider the whole journey a folly, check the timetables, and turn around and head back to London. He decides that he doesn’t need to decide, not yet. In two hours’ time, when he steps off the train, he can exit the station, sit down in the nearest pub, and then work out what comes next.

Already he feels as if he is more free to breathe, outside of Harry’s home, beyond Baker Street, increasingly distant from the Diogenes, and Bart’s Hospital, and Scotland Yard, moving further and further away from Charles Magnusson’s corporate high-rise and the street where Irene Adler had lived, and the Tower, the Old Bailey, and Sherlock’s grave. Within the neutral space of the moving train, within the in-between of departure and arrival, John thinks he can let go enough that it will allow him to begin to make a reckoning, loosening knots that bind him to what has been, by thinking new thoughts.

The day that Sherlock had solved the pink lady’s murder was the day that John had thrown in with him. It was the start of them being . . . something . . . to each other. A something that would become something more over time. Two mates? Best friends? A pair? A duo? Twinned? A merger? A team? A partnership? A match? A couple?

It's a complicated question, he admits to himself grudgingly, because there are two sides to it, right? Knowing the answer for one side does not automatically reveal the answer for the other. From one angle -- his -- it’s simple, because whatever it is, it just is. But the whole bloody mess is full of multiple dimensions isn’t it, tenth Doctor timey-wimey stuff. He starts to feel irritated at this line of thought, and throws up his hands. Best put this off until he gets to the pub. Best put this off until he’s been at the pub for a while – and after he’s a few pints down.

But it wasn’t just two of them, was it, he and Sherlock, although they wouldn’t know that for a while. There was a third, right at the start, although the third had thought that he was one of two. He had thought that he was at the start of . . . something . . . with Sherlock. Nothing as simple as mates or best friends or a pair; what he was after was more complex than these: A duo? Twinned? No, it would be closer to a merger, although that wouldn’t be emotionally true enough, would it?

Sherlock had been on Moriarty’s mind ever since he discovered him in the aftermath of Carl Powers’ death. He had been planning a courtship through all these years, the trainers his Rosebud, that he would lay at Sherlock’s feet. He wanted, at least early on, to be a team, a partnership – yes, that would be closer. It might have even been satisfactory if that was all that was possible from Sherlock's end; or might be satisfactory as a way station, until Moriarty could bend him to his will. Moriarty had already raced ahead: his something was as a match, as a couple.

Moriarty had been writing himself and Sherlock into a twisted fairy tale from the start. He didn’t know Sherlock as well as he might have thought; he would need access to Mycroft’s brain, and memories, and his expressive tells to compensate for both his lack of data, and his lack of a soul, unable as the psychopath that he was to feel the emotional connection that his lust for power over Sherlock craved. In the aftershocks of Jennifer Wilson's death and the Yard's summons to Sherlock, Moriarty had sent Sherlock a setpiece from The Princess Bride to play, to test his mettle: to see if he died -- and that his brain had been made of inferior stuff, and playing the game wouldn't have been worth the candle; or whether Moriarty’s hypothesis that Sherlock was worthy to be one of two with him was proven, by his staying alive, demonstrating that he possessed a mind that was laced with iocane powder.

How disappointed Moriarty must have been when he realized that Sherlock hadn't understood the reference! John smiled, wistfully, remembering: the inevitable glitch in the operation of genius, yes? That there’s always something.

But Sherlock hadn’t needed an iocane-laced brain; he had John: John could act that night as the antidote to the poison, and he had. He had played a role in the fairy tale, although not a part that was written by Moriarty, but the part that was appearing in letters across the London skyline, like magic ink when it becomes visible, written by the two of them: John and Sherlock.

Their once upon a time, which had begun the day before, ended its first chapter with John saving Sherlock by slaying a dragon.

The train surges ahead as the landscape outside the window greens, and a young mother and her son make their way down the aisle back to their seats, hand-in-hand. She listens to him with an intent expression as he waves outside the window and then to his mobile, explaining something or other about the Pokemon he’s captured. Outside, the long stretch of empty track behind them leaves evidence of the miles that have disappeared during that moment.

John had seen himself as Sherlock’s protector from the start: a soldier to protect him from harm, harm from others and harm from himself, even as Sherlock set out to protect London, with all the recklessness, brilliance, abrasiveness, arrogance, imperfection and exuberance that was embedded within his being.

But John had not been able to protect Sherlock in the last days of his life. Something had gone wrong, and while there were more contributing factors than he was sure he could count if he counted until the end of his days, he knew that some of that wrongness had been down to him. He catches glimpses when he remembers those times when he was at Sherlock’s side during the tumult of the photo calls that began with his retrieval of Turner’s Reichenbach Falls painting. He senses deep inside that he owes Sherlock an apology for the condescension he had indulged in, which obscured his view of the field of battle, leaving Sherlock alone to try and overcome the curse that Moriarty had spun around him. There's more there he needs to think about it, if he's ever going to understand what happened. He can't just skip over it; he has to go through it, and hope that he emerges on the other side.

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

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[razorblade180]

As we've sort of seen how it happened with Weiss, how did Jaune end up falling for the girls in their respective aus? How long did it take for him to notice and for him to act on those feelings?

I should really find an efficient way to deep dive into my archives because I know for sure I have this written I. specific details Thank goodness I write things often enough to remember the fundamentals of my stories.

Rosebud- It’s probably the simplest. Ruby always had a crush in this AU. They started getting intimate with one another during their journey as RNJR; out of sense of comfort, stress, and growing affection. Ruby made the first move. They didn’t officially get together until sometime during V5 time frame at the inn. It was pretty much unspoken that they were going to love each other forever, and that only became more true when after Salem was beaten. At that point their love could really flourish. The silver eyed hero that saved the world at 17 was happily married at 19 and Jaune couldn’t be happier.

Lasting Embers is slightly more complicated but I’m not about to get nitty gritty in this specific post. Yang and Blake’s relationship got messy and tense after the revelation that was Adam being alive and the several run in that happened on the journey. After the break up, Yang was incredibly down and upset and it was mainly Jaune that helped get her through the funk. Eventually they got together but it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. There were several fights and even a breakup that mainly stemmed from the tense journey and Yang’s emotional baggage. Jaune even briefly dated someone else who Yang believed was better for him and deeply cared about him. However, after what could be described as the most selfless act of a lifetime, the two of them were able to try again and it was wonderful. They continued to love each other and let down walls that eventually led to a marriage that remains vivid in everyone’s memory.

So for Knigtshade context, Jaune and Blake were actually pretty friendly during Beacon days. Nothing crazy happened but they had similar music tastes and quiet spots to think. Also one of the major differences in this universe is they managed to lock Salem behind a relic door for a few years in order to train properly and prep the world for the real fight. It was during this time. Like Lasting Embers, Blake and Yang got into some drama, but this was ten times worse. So bad that it rocked the entire group. Ruby ended up making the executive decision that when it came interaction between Menagerie and the nearest Anima area, it would be Jaune and Blake while Yang essentially worked with Ren and Nora. The constant back and forth as well as the problem solving Blake and Jaune had to do together for so long naturally led to them getting to know each other more and being there to listen. They both fell for each other slowly. Things were a little better with Yang for a while until she noticed the signs. Eventually marriage became a reality and so was a family. Things were never really the same which is a little disheartening. Nobody is hostile to anyone but little Lucas could only wonder why someone so important to his family always felt a little distant on the rare occasions they met.

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 25/34 - rosebud lips

[Read on AO3]

Below them, the baby starts to fuss, her eyes shut tight against the bright lights as she squirms in Scully’s arms.

“Shh, it’s alright,” she hushes, rocking her back and forth. Mulder’s hand drops from Scully’s arm to cup the baby’s back, rubbing soft comforting circles there. She’s so soft and warm, it’s like touching a warm loaf of bread. Not that he’s about to compare their newborn baby to something as silly as a loaf of bread minutes after meeting her, but that’s where his head’s at.

The baby quiets, settling into the crook of Scully’s arm again. She’s a natural, just like he’d known she’d be.

“Oh, you’re gonna love your mommy, hon,” he coos, marveling at the way she’d instantly calmed her.

“Mulder, look at her!” Scully says in awe, tugging down at the blanket so her face is fully visible for the first time. “She’s so perfect!” The image of their daughter blurs through another bout of tears, and Scully clutches her close. The baby sleeps peacefully, her tiny pink tongue peeking out through her little rosebud lips every so often.

“She’s beautiful,” Mulder says, laughing a little at his own inability to hold it together.

Scully looks up at him again, finally beginning to compose herself.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asks. 

There’s quite literally nothing in the entire world that he would like more, right now.

He reluctantly lets go of Scully, lifting his arms to accept the transfer of the baby. His hand cups the back of her downy-soft head and he pulls her oh so carefully into his chest, laying her in his arms. Something shifts inside him and falls into place.

It takes his breath away.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispers, dipping his head down to press a kiss to her tufts of wispy dark brown hair. “I’m gonna be your daddy.” Scully hangs on to him, her hands resting on his shoulder so she can keep staring at the precious little face now cradled in his arms. “She’s so small,” he chuckles, glancing at Scully for a second, then back to the baby as a few more tears escape. He’s blinking rapidly in an effort to be able to see her through the sheen of tears, but his efforts are proving fruitless. “I didn’t know anything could be so small.” Ten tiny little fingers. A button nose. Perfect fluttering eyelashes. Rosy red cheeks.

Scully leans her cheek against his bicep. “We have a daughter,” she says in awe, the full weight of those words hitting them for the first time. She rests her arm along Mulder’s, feeling the subtle rise and fall of the baby’s chest under her hand. “Oh, we love you so much already.”

It’s then that he turns to look down at her, and it hits him. He can’t hold back anymore. Not only does it not make sense, but he feels like he genuinely might spontaneously combust if he doesn’t do something.

And there’s only one thing to do, really.

He tilts his head down and pauses. She catches his movement out of the corner of her eye and shifts her gaze up to his, her eyes swimming with joy. He sees nothing to dissuade him.

Resolved, he adjusts his hold on the baby, then ducks his head and presses his lips gently to Scully’s for their second real kiss since their wedding. It’s different than the one they’d shared on New Year’s. Her lips are soft and salty with tears, but she kisses him back, eyes closed and relishing in the moment. When they break, he swallows thickly, feeling more fulfilled than he has in his entire life. He’s reluctant to open his eyes, wanting to live in that moment forever.

He loves her. He is absolutely, undeniably in love with Dana Scully, and by some miracle, she’s gone on this incredible journey with him. He still doesn’t know exactly where she stands. The plan never involved love of this kind. She didn’t sign up for this. But he hopes she might feel the same way—if not now, then someday. He wants to believe.

She’s smiling up at him when they part.

“Congratulations, Fox and Dana,” Brenda says, a beaming smile lighting up her face. “I’ll be back again before you're discharged to finalize some paperwork. Until then, you enjoy getting to know one another. I know you’ll do great.”

-.-.-

The silence in the wake of the ladies from the agency leaving is almost deafening. There’s still a ringing in his ears from when he’d kissed Scully, losing all sense of time in the few moments that their lips touched.

A tiny gurgle escapes the baby’s mouth, and it draws both of their attention back down to her. Mulder chuckles at the sight of her smacking her lips, rooting around for something to satisfy her most basic needs.

“She’s hungry,” he says, proud of himself for being able to recognize her signals already. He had worried that he wouldn’t know what he was doing, or how to take care of her, but it’s true what they say. Instincts kick in pretty quick, and your baby will tell you what they need if you know what to look for. “You want to feed her?” he asks Scully. He knows it would mean a lot to her, even if she can’t do it with milk from her own body.

She nods and gracefully takes the baby from him, settling into a rocking chair. He grabs a pillow from the bed and puts it under her arm for support, handing her a ready-made bottle of formula that one of the nurses had left for them. Then, he crouches down in front of her and just watches. The baby suckles greedily, pausing every so often like she’s falling asleep, before the motion picks back up.

“Mulder?” Scully says after a moment, her eyes not straying from the baby’s face.

“Yeah?”

“I think this is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

His lips curl upward in a smile, and he places a hand on her knee. 

“I’ve had some pretty brilliant ideas over the years, but I think you might be right.”

She’s going to be the best mom, he thinks. It’s such a relief that they were able to make this happen. He doesn’t know what he’d have done if this, too, had failed. She’s had enough heartbreak because of this—her infertility, Emily, the IVF… Then at some point, he’d realized his fate was tied up with hers, and if she was never destined to be a mother, then—well—he’d never be a father either.

To that, he had said, “Never give up on a miracle,” and this might be it. Scully’s God works in mysterious ways, after all.

“We don’t have a name for her,” Scully says, her voice tinged with just the slightest edge of sadness.

He had tried to bring it up to her once before, but he could tell Scully hadn’t been ready for that conversation yet. She may not be a superstitious person, but when it came to their prospective parenthood, it was like she was afraid they’d jinx it if they got too excited too soon.

But they can’t put it off any longer. As much as he likes the sound of “Baby Girl Mulder,” that can’t stay her name forever. 

“Well, are there any you want to rule out?” he asks. “What about your mom or your sister?”

Scully shakes her head, gazing contemplatively at the baby’s face. “I don’t think so,” she says. “Missy… well, she was one of a kind, I don’t think it fits anyone else.”

“Mmm,” Mulder hums in agreement.

“As for my mom,” Scully continues, “she means so much to me. But I want her to have her own name, not just a copy of someone else’s.”

“It could always be a middle name,” Mulder suggests, and Scully blushes, focusing intently on keeping the bottle upright.

“I’ve– um…” she starts. “I’ve actually got a middle name in mind already.”

Mulder’s eyebrows raise. “Oh, do you?”

“Yes, but she needs a first name first.”

He breathes out through his nose, pursing his lips and nodding in thought. 

“I’m assuming small woodland creatures are out?” he says, waiting for the expected eye roll from her, and he’s not disappointed. “Well, how about this? Something that starts with an ‘M’, that way you can honor both your sister and your mom, while still giving her something new.”

He sees her mull over the idea in her head, testing it out probably a hundred different ways in the span of a few seconds.

“I’ve always liked Madeline,” she says thoughtfully. “Maddie.”

“Maddie,” Mulder says, trying it out on his tongue. 

He looks down at the baby in her arms, and tries to imagine that name belonging to her. Her mouth loses suction on the bottle for a second and she coos adorably while flailing her tongue around in search for the nipple. He takes that as a sign.

“I like it. I think it suits her.”

“Maddie,” Scully repeats.

“And the middle name?” Mulder asks, looking curious. She’s got him in suspense now. He has no idea what name might be on her mind.

She bites down on her lip, cocking her head as she observes the tiny infant. “I was thinking… Samantha.”

He sucks in a breath, his eyes flashing up to hers in an instant. She’s serious, of course she is. This isn’t something she’d joke about, like he’d joked about the woodland creatures.

“Really?” he asks.

She nods. “It’s a beautiful name,” she says, forcing her eyes away from him shyly. “But—only if you like it. Only if you think your sister would approve.”

His sister… She’s been on his mind a lot lately, to no one’s surprise. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have known how to answer this question. What would his sister think of all this? He’d been in denial back then, unable to move on with his life and his search for the truth. They couldn’t have used her name, because it would mean admitting to himself what he’d denied all along. He hadn’t been ready to let her go.

But now, he does have an answer. He’s seen her. He thinks back to the way she’d smiled at him in the forest when he told her he was going to be a father—how thrilled she had been to know he's happy and in love.

He knows without a doubt that she’d be honored to have this child carry her name.

“I think she’d like that,” he says, his voice strained by a sudden influx of tears. “She’d like you, too.”

Scully gives a wobbly smile, then ducks her head to compose herself. 

A minute passes before either of them is able to summon up the strength to form coherent language again. Mulder stands to his feet, settling his weight on the side table next to the rocking chair, not wanting to part from them even for the time it would take to pull up another chair.

“Madeline Samantha Scully,” he says aloud, looking down at the little girl who would carry that name.

“Not Scully,” his partner says quickly, glancing up at him seriously. “Mulder.”

For the second time in as many moments, he’s shell shocked by the words that she says.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. This was her dream originally, after all. He's just riding her coattails.

But she nods, her gaze unwavering. “There’s plenty of Scullys already,” she says. “The world needs more Mulders.”

Something blooms like a sunrise somewhere beneath his ribcage, and he suddenly wonders if it’s possible to die from the sheer force of the love you have stored up inside you.

“Scully… this is– this is your baby. You’re the one who’s wanted this for so long…”

“What I want is a Mulder,” she says, smiling sadly at his own self doubt. “I thought with the IVF, that was obvious.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that. She couldn’t possibly be saying what he thinks she’s saying. But then again, he recalls a time several years ago when she’d asked him about his genetic makeup.

Well, this child doesn’t share his DNA, nor Scully’s, but she’s theirs in all the ways that matter. Of course, he’ll be happy to give her his name.

“Madeline Samantha Mulder,” he amends, marveling at how it sounds spoken aloud. It’s perfect. And it means more to him than Scully will ever know.

“You know what else starts with ‘M?’” Scully asks, in a lighter tone than before.

He senses she’s about to tease him, so he beats her to the punch. “Mothman?” he guesses sarcastically.

She smiles in fond exasperation. “You, Mulder.”

“Hmm,” he hums happily, then pokes her in the shoulder with his elbow. “You know what else starts with ‘S?’”

“Please don’t say Skunk Ape,” she says, drawing a genuine laugh out of him. Her quickness of wit is one of the things he loves most about her. He doesn’t need to give her the correct answer to his question. They both know his favorite word of all time is ‘Scully.’

“A lovely name for a lovely little girl,” he says, reaching down to play with her tiny socked feet. “Welcome to the world, Maddie.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

[heartfullofleeches]

Ooh if you feel like writing for them I’d love to see a first meeting scenario with Rosebud from the night gallery, they seem to be one of the most calm residents of the place so I’m curious how the first meeting between night guard reader and Rosebud went, especially in comparison to how the two interact after they first meet :)

"Hungry... So very hungry"

What have you gotten yourself into?

The day marked your sixth night as security. You've had a few run ends with the gallery's inhabitants by now, but their passivemess and the pay lead you right back through its doors. Upon walking into the breakroom, you were greeted by a watering can, plant food, and a list of instructions for your shift. This was the first time you've received them, but it wouldn't be the last.

"Go to the garden tonight and give The RoseBush its meal. The garden is set to reopen next week and we cant have it eating guests. You will be paid three times your usual if you complete the task. Below, write the name of your next of kin so we can send them your pay incase of incent."

A key is taped to the bottom of the note. With a prize on the table and fear in your gut, you gather the tools and set out to complete your task. Now that you've thought of it, you've never seen the garden or even knew that was one to being with. This likely had to do with it being closed, but it was a tad strange your boss hadn't mentioned it before.

A few posters and signs guide you to its doors. The absence of the gallery's fellow inhabitants made the journey a breeze, but now you hesitate. Greed takes over, and you insert the key into the lock, opening the doors to an entirely new world.

Beyond a short, overgrown passage, the garden presents itself to you beneath a starlight night. A glass dome ceiling separates it from the heavens. Plants of wide variety spread through its field. A butterfly enclosure lies vacant in one corner. A man made stream lines the stone path to the central piece of the garden. A large, stone statue of a rosebud sits in the center of the road surrounded by a bush. The shrubbery's flowers hang limp on their stems; deviating from the life that flourishing in every corner of garden aside it. The RoseBush.

Your feet move on your own. You expect some of the flowers. Its petals wilt around the edges. Poor thing, but- there's something wrong with it. As you poke and prod, you feel something hard in the middle. You spread the center flowers with your fingers...

Ow!

Something... bit you.

Tearing your now bloody hand away, the rose's teeth gnash at the air; tongue flicking over the blood that taints it leaves. The bush as a whole begins to rustle. More roses wake, shifting as if sniffing the air. They soon cannibalize their fellow bud; the creature screeching and flailing as its ripped to a blood messy. You fight to pull your eyes from the sight, but your attention is only altered by a soft, hissing voice.

"Hungry.... So very hungry..."

Stone pieces chip as the statue unfurls from its fetal state. Vines shoot upwards from its middle, weaving into a long arm that grips the sides of its prison as its body continues to form. Another arm. A torso. A head. It splits in twine, a red rose blooming before your very eyes. Its suck somewhere between full peak, pedaling shriveled around its singular beady eye.

"Feed me.. now."

The voice rattles with anger. You quickly jump into action, dumping the entire pail of water onto the bush. To your horror, the fall runs red, but that's the least of your worries for now. You struggle to tear open the plant food, earning a frustrated snarl from the creature.

"Just throw the damn thing in."

You follow the command. The roses devour the food, bag and all. At last, the creature is satisfied. Petals in full bloom, it leans against the stone petals, peering down at you with a sigh of gratitude.

"Filth compare to what woke me, but it'll do. Excuse me for my hostility. I am another beast when I haven't been feed for long."

You swallow the breath you held. "It's.. fine. I'm guessing you're Rosebush?"

"RoseBud, Dearest. I believe it fits better. If may ask, what was that delectable concoction I was given before? Just the scent of it had my little ones ravenous."

You lift your bloody hand. "Guess it was me."

"Ah, so sorry, but I suppose they know greatness when they smell it. May I ask for another taste? I will give you something in return."

You hold your hand over the bush. A few of the flowers lap at your falling blood, while others nuzzle your feet with an odd purr. Meanwhile, Rosebud plucks thorns from its vine before they're descended upon your wounded finger; wrapping around it like a bandage. A rose snips its end for further conformity.

"That should do for now. I hope that this isn't too much considering it's our first meet, but please do visit us again. I can tell already that your presence will be missed by me and my babes, and not just for your blood."

"I think I can do that."

"Wonderful. For now, let us get to know each other, Rosetta."

[carsonian]

Cap-IM Rec Week: Absolute Faves Monday

@cap-ironman, in no particular order:

"One-Man Army" by Captain_Panda

Takes place immediately after the Chitauri attack in Avengers 1. Steve is running himself into the ground. Tony notices. Then Steve gets knocked down hard. And Tony intervenes.

Mt. Everest. The fic that I've made 20+ fanarts for, the one that's been ricocheting around my noggin since I first read it. Ahh, OMA. You big, bombastic beauty.

"Role of a Lifetime" by Annie D (scaramouche) (@no-gorms)

It’s been almost a year since Tony was rescued from the Ten Rings by SHIELD. In this time, Tony has forged a new path for Stark Industries and taken on a new under-the-radar role as a consultant for SHIELD. Tony’s SHIELD job eventually brings him into contact with the newest Captain America, who’s a pretty cool guy, though for security reasons Tony can’t know his real name or see his face without the Captain America mask. This is also about the time that Tony notices a certain Mr. Stevens, a new hire in SI’s corporate office...

This AU….this AU… I tell ya, THIS AU….this is some high-quality, top-grade, cutting-edge, organically grown, grass-fed, imdb ten of ten, five-star michelin, test-tube perfection, new york bestseller, billboard luster, knockout buster shiz.

"Meso Park" by Captain_Panda

As the head theropod keeper for A.I.M.'s extraordinary new project, Steve Rogers wants a smooth summer opening. Then the unthinkable happens, on the same day the investor of a lifetime arrives, ready to throw his support behind the world's most ambitious theme park. Can Meso Park survive the upheaval? Can Steve? Tune in to this dinosaur-themed adventure inspired by Michael Crichton's classic, Jurassic Park.

I've said it many times before, I'll say it again: if Meso Park has 100 fans, I'm one of em. If Meso Park has 10 fans, I'm one of em. If Meso Park has 1 fan, that fan is me. If Meso Park has 0 fans, I am no longer alive. It's not yet finished and I'm already sure it's the fic of the decade. That's just Meso Park for you.

"Gather Ye Rosebuds" by lazywriter7

It isn’t like that, for many people. For them, love is the point: the axis around which everything else revolves, the destination at the end of a long, tumultuous journey. Realisation, confession, resolution. Happy ending. That’s how it goes. And love was a point in Tony Stark’s journey, except it came towards the beginning, rather than the end. The issue, instead of the solution. He hasn’t been alone on the trip, of course. Steve’s been there: sometimes three steps behind, sometimes waiting up ahead by the turn of the road. They’ve sprinted and stumbled, sometimes stood still and refused to move on ahead, sometimes thought of turning away altogether. Steve and Tony’s story began after they fell in love, and this is about how they fell in everything else.

I read this Way Back When, and I remember thinking I'd never seen such a convincing portrayal of MCU SteveTony and how a genuine relationship between the two of them could emerge while still accounting for (hold your puke) canon. Still rock-solid all the way through; knock against the fic at any point, and it will answer back with a fun two-part joke. Lush stuff.

"The First Time I Went Dancing Sober" by schemingreader

Steve Rogers is a great physical therapist who works with sick kids. Tony Stark is a damaged biotech engineering genius who really wants to be one of the good guys.

I've recc'd this before so I won't blabber on but rest assured it is heartwrenchingly good.

"But Your Spirit is Untainted; I Can Dedicate You Still" by BlossomsintheMist (@blossomsinthemist)

The incursions crisis is over, and Steve and Tony have gotten back together, but nothing is the same as it was. Fearing that things are broken between them forever, Steve asks Tony something unexpected to try to make things right. Or, Steve asks if Tony really meant what he said when he asked Steve to hurt him. Sequel to Might Have Cherished You More Wisely.

I couldn't give less of a FUCK that this isn't technically finished. It is finished, to ME. The character-building in this story is just rich and fleshy and the stuff of true finesse. I read this every once in a while just to have the taste of masterful storytelling on my tongue. You should, too ;)

"Sins of Omission" by Kiyaar (@kiyaar)

A Post-Civil War, Pre-Secret Invasion AU where Steve is dead, Tony's a mess, and everything sucks. In which Tony deals poorly with Steve's death, falls off the wagon, sees ghosts, and misses a lot. Oh, and the Skrulls are about to invade.

When I first came across this fic, I devoured it in about 2 days and proceeded to be devoured by it for the next 2 months. :) Lovely stuff!

"Catechism" by manic_intent (@manic-intent)

Inspired by fanart seen on tumblr, this is an End of Days story, with all the Avengers as Archangels. Tony had always known that he was a special snowflake. He just hadn't realized exactly how special.

Listen. I'm a simple gal. This ticks off all the boxes, uh-hello!

"not gruesome, just human" by isozyme (@isozyme)

“I need to crash on someone’s couch for a while. Your couch. I need to crash on your couch,” Tony says. Steve’s mouth opens. If he asks why Tony’s going to bolt, he can feel the certainty of it under his sternum. He doesn’t have a sternum anymore, just a tangle of metal under his skin. Too many things have punched through it to get to his heart. There hasn’t been enough bone left to reconstruct anything made of flesh in a long time. “There’s borscht on the stove,” Steve says.

Raw. Punchy. Kind of makes me want to weep. Kind of makes me smile. Lotsa stuff that you can only write about when you've been down and which after reading will lift you right back up.

And I'll stop myself there because I could definitely just go on and on and on.

Go forth: SteveTony lovers, fuckers, ambassadors, champions, perverts, freaks, losers, dreamers, legends! Read, re-read, kudo, comment, spread legs and spread love.

[possibly-god]

Rosa Guzman – the Hunter

(1975 – 6/2000 – 31)

Diana Guzman met Mick Mundy at a roadside campsite – her on a free-loving freewheeling roadtrip, him on just another job. They shared a few blunts, shared a bed, shared breakfast, and hit the road their separate ways.

You think a hardcore hippie’s going to stress out about a surprise baby? Diana loved her little gift from the universe from the moment she found out, and settled down with a commune who would support her little indigo child as much as she did.

Rosa is a girl of few words (in English or Spanish), and of few noises in general – Diana dresses her in bangles and flip-flops half for the New Age aesthetic and half to keep her audible.

Every spare moment Rosa has she spends in the fields and forest around the commune, teaching herself to track, sneak, and lure to get up close with the animals. So long as she’s back before sunset, Mama doesn’t worry and doesn’t question – who is she to stop her Rosebud’s journey to be one with nature?

Quietly (as in all things) Rosa harbors doubts about her Mama’s “peace and love on planet earth” outlook. She’s seen hawks snatch up grazing rabbits, seen deer eating roadkill in the winter, seen mother birds throwing runts from the nest, been scratched, stung, and bit many times over – she knows the wild isn’t always kind.

At 6 she started doing chores for neighbors outside the commune to earn money, saving up for a camera to share her animal encounters – it’s on the way back from a leaf-raking job that she gets abducted.

Sniper avoids her at first – he thinks he’s too rough for a kid, that she’d be better off with the others – but he keeps an eye on her from afar. It takes a few “accidental” encounters for him to realize she’s seeking him out, that she wants to know him.

While with RED, Rosa continues to spend her days exploring, as much inside as outside – an industrial compound is very different from a subsistence-and-salvage settlement. She becomes quite taken with the base’s air vents, frequently popping up in unexpected places (she even gets the drop on Spy once – with witnesses, unfortunately for him).

Between all the sneaking and climbing, Sniper starts calling her “Spider” – as an adult she gets a tattoo of a rosebud and huntsman spider in honor of both her parents.

She rooms with Kelly on base – they bond over camp skills and craftiness, and Pyro teaches them the joy of sleepovers. Patrick is also a favorite of hers, particularly when she doesn’t feel like speaking English.

Once OHM is out of the way, Rosa returns to her mother and the commune, but adds a walk into town to her weekly routine – with his parents gone, Sniper’s glad to have someone to call again.

Sniper sends Rosa a camera for her 7th birthday – Diana helps her build a darkroom, and the community soon gets visual proof that her “nature tales” are not a bit exaggerated.

Even as the Flower Children grow up and the commune drifts apart, Rosa’s interests – ecology, photography, stealth and subterfuge – remain strong as she goes to school, goes to college, wanders the world honing her crafts.

To the public, Rosa Guzman is a globetrotting wildlife photojournalist. To poachers, she’s the shadow that stalks the rainforests and savannahs, tearing through their operations before vanishing into the night.

“Poachers” includes Charles Darling and Saxton Hale (who Rosa has not forgiven for his actions against the hippie community) – Sniper supports his daughter’s crusade, but sometimes he does wish she would stop shooting his boss.

It takes Hale’s retirement from game hunting in 2000 to get Rosa on board with joining TFI – with a promise to direct her substantial paycheck toward conservation efforts, she’s happy to be their Hunter.

Next up – twin toddlers of cuteness and chaos…

TF2K Master Post

[monstersinthecosmos]

stealing your question as promised: what authors do you think shaped your writing the most when you were first starting?

-mothmage

sdjkgas in middle school my favorite authors were Anne Rice and Francesca Lia Block and I think they have SENSUALITY in common even though their writing styles are SO opposite. As a teen when I was first writing I think I learned so much from both of them, like the seriousness and drama of AR but at the same time, FLB is so concise and punchy and sometimes her books are like these waterfalls of adjectives and I tried to think in that way too! Like I'm a very visual person so FLB books were like fucking crack for me, just heaps and heaps of descriptions of color and glittery and starry night skies and flowers growing where they shouldn't and it feels like poetry!

(I opened a random FLB book off my shelf and this is what I mean: We walked up and down the hills until our legs ached, then rode the trolley car to feel rushes of salty, misty air. We had picnics and fed the swans on the lake under the flowering terra-cotta arches, drank tea and ate pastries in rooms with cupids and rosebuds painted on the walls, strolled through the park, green-dazzled, fragrance-drunk, gasped at treasures gleaming gold in the half-lit glass cases of the museum. Then we'd return with spices, fruits and vegetables from Chinatown, seafood and baguettes from the wharf.

Her writing is so simple but it's just like heaps and heaps of sensory details !! And it's an interesting spectrum between her & AR to see how much you can say and like what type of efficiency you can find, because both of them give me that same feeling and feel so sensuous to me. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT EVERYTHING LOOKS LIKE AND SMELLS LIKE AND SOUNDS LIKE, TAKE ME THERE!

So as a teen I think I was learning a lot from them both and like I remember a fic I wrote with someone at a mall and it was like my FLB moment, I was like OMG I MUST MENTION THE TACO SMELL IN THE FOOD COURT AND THE PERFUME KIOSK AND THE HOUSE MUSIC BLASTING FROM A HAT SHOP AND THE CRUNCHY SUGAR ON A PRETZEL! And that's something that's stuck with me a lot, I think. I always want to tell you how things feel and smell like we're going on a journey, okay!

They both also have a way of treating cities/locations like characters--FLB actually does this quite literally by describing cities as if they're women (like LA is a blonde woman with big sunglasses and NYC has dyed black hair with severe red lipstick that stains on her cigarette butts, etc something like that) and it feels really specific and made me think a lot about locations and settings and how they affect the characters and story! They were also both the first books I ever read with queer people! FLB's short story Dragons in Manhattan was the first story I ever read with a trans person back when I was like 12 or 13.

AND THEN as a final nail in the coffin LOL I read I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb when I was in 9th or 10th grade and it just really like !! IDK broke my head open for character voice. I don't think I'd read it so well done before, or maybe not noticed before. LIKE I MEAN this entire concept is like asking what did WE discover as kids or whatever, like so much of it is happenstance and if it hadn't been these authors it would've been someone else, and it's not like I stopped reading LOL like I still learn things from reading all the time! But Wally Lamb really brought this home for me. Like the way he writes Dominick's narration is just so like cynical and rugged and full of hurt and it made me think a lot about like how to profile a character with the language we use. I don't think FLB does this too much bc her writing is so breezy anyway and AR is so wordy that I don't think I could pick up on it as a teenager. I get more nuance now and see it better but it's there's a base level of like fanciness and purple prose that can be hard to see through on the first try, at least for me as a teen.

ANYWAY SORRY THAT WAS A REALLY LONG RESPONSE I JUST GOT REALLY EXCITED but Anne Rice + FLB + Wally Lamb wombo combo for emotionally torturous sensory overload cynical guttermouth style.

[prideofcornelia]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄  𝐀𝐒  𝐀  𝐃𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐘.   ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥   think  carefully  about  your  character  and  their  development  through  their  journey  (  canon  or  oc  )  within  their  story.  fill  out  the  chart  and  tag  whoever  you  want  ! repost,  do  not  reblog.

𝐃𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐘  𝐎𝐅  ― of love & life / passion & healing / boldness & vigor. the heart is a powerful weapon; diana wields both kindness & fiery emotion. also being a white mage, she has to ability to heal the worst of wounds & ailments. 

𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  ― flowers, flames & the heavens.  dainty as springtime with the incoming heat of summer.   the heavens very fire itself, highest in court with love that burns brightest. angels & fairies. purity & mischief in the same breath. 

𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 ―  pink rosebuds, tiger lilies, daisies & cherry blossoms. 

𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒  /  𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐒  ― rose quartz for unconditional love.  carnelian for passion, amethyst for healing & purification. 

𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐒  ―  rabbits, prosperity, abundance & good luck.  the dove, peace, innocence & purity.  the fox, for being cunning & deceitful. 

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ―   white for purity & innocence. crimson for vigor, passion & courage. pink for youth, good health & playfulness. 

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃  ―  peaches, for longevity. pomegranate for abundance & luck.  various desserts as goodness & reward. 

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒  ― sugar, lavender & vanilla. 

𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  ―  sweets, especially cake.  jewels, ribbons, written letters of adoration. gold, things that carry the likeness of a bunny. 

𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒  𝐓𝐎  𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐑  ― eating sweets when the sun is highest in the sky, brushing your hair in one hundred strokes, wearing a red crystal drop as any sort of jewelry. performing a daily act of kindness or bravery. expressing yourself in various bold & refreshing ways. 

tagged by: took it off my old blog & reposting it here.

tagging: whoever wants to give this a go! it’s a lengthy thing but i had so much fun.  

[nicho18jar]

[Author’s note: I haven’t really done anything like this in quite a while so apologies if there’s any sorta issues with how I wrote it or the formating. This is LoverXSozo fan fic based off @cosmica-candy 's COTL AU, I hope you enjoy.]

It was in the first few weeks of winter when Sozo had returned from his stay at the Spore Grotto, he normally went there every few weeks in order to check in on Inky and the mushlings. Making sure that nothing horrible had happened while he was away, cleaning up any messes or issues that the mushlings had made in his absence and creating more of them in case that some had perished.

The sun was just beginning to set when Sozo first felt the sting of the cold on his journey back to the Arcana village. The cold sent a shiver down his spine and a quick stab of pain followed quickly but he instead adjusted the scarf that his lover gave him and sped up. The sooner that Sozo returned, the sooner he could see his darling lamb again, and that was all the motivation that he needed to continue his task at night.

He had been traveling mostly in the dark for a few hours when Sozo finally saw the faint lights of Arcana off in the distance. All the times he had made the journey before had ingrained every step of the path, every bump, ditch and obstacle into his mind.

“Halt! Who goes there!” Cried out one of the guards as Sozo approached the entrance to the village, a blue bushy worm that Sozo didn’t recognise.“It is I, Sozo. I have returned from my trip to the Spore Grotto.” Sozo called out in response as he stopped before the gate, kept shut at night in order to keep monsters and heretics out.“Ah, Sir Sozo, we were not expecting you until tomorrow. Quickly come in before the cold claims you!” The guard replied as they went about opening the gate for him. “I believe that our glorious leader should be in his home if you wish to surprise him or wait until the morning.”“I must see him tonight, my heart cannot bear being separated for longer than necessary.” Sozo said passionately as he entered through the gate, his pace quickening as he made a beeline towards Lover’s home.

As Sozo quickly approached Lover’s house he saw Cream silently leave and shut the door behind her. She jumped a little when she saw Sozo but quickly smiled kindly at him.“Ah Sozo, it is a surprise to see you here already, how were the mushlings dear?” Cream asked him with a gentle smile“They are doing well Lady Cream, only one perished while I was gone thanks to Inky. Is my dear love alright?” Sozo responded proudly only to switch to a concerned tone as he asked about Lover.She looked around before leaning in close to Sozo. “Lambert, he is not doing too well. The cold does not agree with him and he has asked to be left alone so that no one sees him in this state. But I believe your presence may improve things.” She said quietly, seemingly worried that someone may overhear the pair.Sozo nodded as he placed his fist on his chest. "I swear upon my goddess, Amanita Cordyceps that I will do everything in my power to comfort and help dear Rosebud."Cream smiled at his words, "Then I leave everything in your capable hands." She then walked past him as she made her way to her own home.

Sozo took a moment to compose himself before knocking on the door."My love! I have returned at last and wish to see your face once again." He called out, hoping that Lover was still awake. After a few moments Sozo heard movement from behind the door before it was opened to reveal Lover wrapped up tightly in a blanket. Lover's eyes widened in shock before he wrapped his arms around Sozo."Sozo my dear! I thought you weren't to return until tomorrow? What if something had happened to you while you travelled during the night?" He asked in a concerned manner."The mere thought of having to spend one more night away from you my beautiful rose scared me more then the dark and it's monsters ever could." Sozo replied in a quiet tone as he slowly lifted Lover’s head for a kiss."Oh Sozo." Lover whispered only to scrunch up his face in pain."My dear! What is wrong? Are you hurt?" Sozo quickly asked in a panic as he pulled away to check for any injuries."N-no my dear, just an old wound acting up due to the cold." Lover said softly as he tried to reassure Sozo that everything was fine.Instead he frowned deeply and gently guided Lover back inside. "I would like to see this old wound my dear, perhaps I could help with the pain it brings you." Sozo said as the pair walked over to the bed.

Lover sat down and nervously fiddled with his hair while Sozo sat down next to him, gently rubbing his shoulder in a comforting manner."You do not need to be nervous my love, a scar won't change my opinion of you in any way." Sozo said softly as he tried to comfort Lover."I know, it's just…..it's an ugly scar." Lover said softly as he softly rubbed his neck which was mostly covered by the collar of his shirt.Sozo gently took Lover's hand in his own and with the other softly rolled down his collar to reveal a jagged pale scar that circled around his neck like a collar."Oh my dear sweet lamb, who dared to lay a single finger on you, let alone strike you down. I will rid the world of them." Sozo said with a silent fury as he ran his thumb along the scar.“Thank you darling, but the one who did this has been dead for a long time.” Lover said with a small smile only to let out a small noise of surprise as Sozo placed a kiss on his scar.“Is this why you always wear your collar my love? It is nothing to be ashamed about.”“I-i know, it just reminds me of that day too much.”

Sozo became silent at that before he carefully removed his scarf and tied the soft fabric around Lover’s neck. “If it will make you feel better my love, I also have scars like yours.” His tone remained soft as Lover silently stared at him. Sozo stood up and walked a few feet away from the bed, taking several deep breaths in order to calm himself down.“Sozo dear, what are you doing?” Lover asked only to gasp in shock when he pulled the back of his sweater up, revealing a pair of scars with small pieces of membrane sticking out of them.“I used to have pair of wings but before I left for these lands, a man being by the name of Thrornane, tore them from my back without mercy.” Sozo explained, silently beginning to tremble with sorrow and rage.

 Lover silently stood up and walked over to Sozo, resting his head on his darling’s back. “And I do not think any less of you either my dear for these scars.” Lover quietly said before taking Sozo’s hand and tugging him back to the bed. “It is growing cold dear, would you like to join me in bed now?”“Always my love.” Sozo replied as he laid down on the bed, gently pulling Lover into his embrace.

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen: Room For Three

Plot: Two weeks after Silver Lake, Joel, Y/n and Ellie travel the final stretch to Salt Lake City.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: language, implied violence, implied attempted SA, detailed description of s*icide attempt, mention of loss of a child, injuries, (16+)

A/N: Well, we’re almost to the end….I hope this grand finale for Joel and Rosebud is equally as enjoyable as the show’s finale. I still haven’t recovered from it…

A small detail that I had to retcon because of the timeline of Joel at the triage clinic…the breakup now occurred two days after Sarah’s death rather than three. I played with it as much as I could, but that’s what fit the best.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who doesn’t have their age/range specified in their bio.

Read on, my loves! Enjoy the mind-numbing fluff before the angst…❤️‍🩹

—————

Y/n felt frozen.

It had been two weeks since Silver Lake, since Ellie and her had fought their way out of, and delivered. a gruesome fate, Joel catching them in the aftermath. Stuck somewhere between being present and comfortably dazed, Y/n felt like she couldn’t fully pull herself out of the numbness that had set in after their escape.

They’d arrived just outside of Salt Lake City, Joel and Y/n briefly left Ellie to rifle through abandoned vehicles for supplies. Joel moved around with the freedom he had weeks before, his injury having fully healed. Y/n, on the other hand, had slowed down significantly. The fight with David had left her with at least two cracked ribs, causing every breath and step to send waves of pain through her. It had caused them a longer travel time.

“Find anything?” Joel asked from the front of the RV.

Y/n dug through the bathroom cabinet, finding a few loose tampons and old, visibly used, toothbrushes.

“Nothing for you,” she announced, sticking the feminine products in her backpack and exiting the bathroom. She found Joel going through the kitchenette.

“Check it out,” Joel victoriously held up a can of Chef Boyardee, “For Ellie.”

Y/n smiled softly, “She’ll like that.”

The change in Joel that had occurred on his and Y/n’s fateful night in Jackson seemed to be long-lasting. He was smiling practically all the time, his voice had lifted from its gruff timber, and he was unbelievably talkative. Y/n had watched as the man she loved slowly came back to himself, she was trying her hardest to meet him there.

She finished up looking for supplies, kneeling on a dusty old couch and checking the space between it and the wall.

“Oh my gosh,” she muttered.

“Hmm?” Joel hummed, still searching for more food.

Y/n reached into the crack, pulling out the mutilated body of an acoustic guitar and holding it up to Joel in stunned silence. He finally turned around and matched her surprise, a small chuckle escaping him.

“Wow,” he marveled.

“I know,” Y/n flipped it in her palms, looking to see if there was any possible way for Joel to play it.

“Busted to hell,” he said, having crossed the room to examine the instrument, “Lemme see.”

Joel took it into his hands, attempting to hold the splintered wood with pieces dangling off it, and form a chord on the fretboard. The sound that came out what horrendous.

“I guess you need it in one piece for it to sound good,” Y/n grimaced.

“Yeah, little bit,” Joel smiled, setting the instrument on the couch, “Nice to dream though.”

“Yeah,” Y/n said, her tone far off as she watched Joel hesitate to take his hand off the guitar’s neck. All along the journey, there’d been little moments where she’d recognized him from twenty years before, but this…this was an essential piece of who he was.

Joel dragged his eyes up to meet Y/n’s, she was smiling at him.

“What?”

“It’s just really fucking unfair that the world comes to an end and you still look this good,” Y/n commented.

Joel practically snorted, shaking his head at the compliment, “Haven’t showered in three weeks.”

“Notice that I said look and not smell,” Y/n smirked, crossing her arms and pushing off the wall to walk past him.

Joel reached out, grasping Y/n’s elbows and gently pulling her back to him. Despite her slow progress, her ribs were still a nuisance, and he’d handled her like china since Silver Lake.

“How they feeling?” Joel changed the subject, spreading a hand across Y/n’s abdomen.

“Not as bad as the other day,” Y/n answered, taking as deep a breath as she could so Joel could feel the motion, “But it’d be nice to sit for a while.”

It wasn’t a request so much as a pipe dream without the smoke. Y/n needed more time to heal than they had.

Feeling powerless against the body’s healing capabilities, Joel stroked his thumb over Y/n’s belly and kissed her forehead.

“Hey,” he mumbled, bending down to pick up a box near their feet, “You always destroyed me in this. Think Ellie might like it?”

Y/n looked down at his hands, it was a Boggle box, something she hadn’t seen in a long time. She glanced up at Joel, admiring how hard he was trying to make their lives any brighter.

Joel could feel Y/n’s eyes on him and met her gaze, “You’re starin’ again.”

Shaking her head and smiling, Y/n pressed a kiss to Joel’s shoulder and walked off towards the RV door.

Joel watched her leave, she was moving slow with something other than pain. Neither her or Ellie had been the same since Silver Lake. Y/n had given Joel fragments of the harrowing tale, but he had yet to have the whole story. He knew better than to push, they’d come to him when they were ready, but it broke his heart to see the two of them anything less than whole. Making a point to grab the board game and the Beefaroni, he left the RV.

Y/n paced herself as she crossed the highway, still timing her inhalations in the beat between steps. It didn’t take more than one or two long legged strides for Joel to catch up with her.

“Good news, we don’t have to hunt tonight,” Joel called to Ellie, who had her back turned to him, “Ellie.”

The girl was seated in the back of a flatbed, still as can be.

“Ellie,” Joel called out again, the third time a little louder.

Y/n sighed, knowing she was in her own world. “El!”

She finally turned around.

“D’ya hear me?” Joel asked.

“No,” Ellie replied, her voice sounding painfully innocent, “What?”

“Well, I found this in there,” Joel gestured back to the RV before holding up the can, “Beefaroni. Chef Boyardee.”

Sensing that this was a big victory for Joel, Ellie forced as much a smile as she was capable of, “Oh, cool.”

Joel’s grin faded, thinking the nostalgia might have been enough to get a genuine reaction. Y/n trailed behind him as he made his way to the truck.

“And have you ever played this?” Joel held up the game for her, “Boggle. It’s a word game.”

“Mm-mm,” Ellie shook her head.

“Well, if you wanna beat me at somethin’,” Joel continued, “It would be this.”

Y/n watched the exchange, leant up against the side of the truck and trying not to look directly at her people. It hurt to see Ellie glazed over just as much as it hurt to see Joel trying so hard to break through the layers of trauma.

“Well, all right then,” Joel announced, sensing Ellie’s mood, “We’re gettin’ close.”

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie nodded.

“Hospital’s that way,” Joel nodded down the freeway, “May be the one we’re lookin’ for.”

“Got it,” Ellie pushed off of the flatbed.

Y/n waited for Ellie to grab her backpack before falling into step with her. The girl didn’t have a particular favorite between Joel and Y/n, but with Y/n having been present for the events at Silver Lake, she was drawing closer to her. Closer being a relative term…

“Take this for me,” Joel held out the rifle to Ellie, letting her hold it as he strapped his backpack back on, “Thanks.”

The three of them set off once more, but not before Joel snuck one last longing gaze at the inside of the RV, or rather its contents.

“They had a guitar in that RV,” he began to tell Ellie, “It was all smashed up, but got me thinkin’, maybe I should find one. I haven’t played in forever. In fact, I was thinkin’, maybe I could teach you. I bet you’d be great at it.”

Ellie gave a slight chuckle, it was her best try.

“Do you wanna learn how to play guitar?” Joel asked, his hopeful gaze sitting on Ellie’s face, recieveing no answer. “Ellie?”

“Hm?” Ellie snapped back to the conversation, “Oh, yeah. That’d be great.”

Joel looked behind Ellie’s back and met Y/n’s waiting gaze, the helplessness in his eyes so very clear. He didn’t know how to bring her back.

The three of them hiked through the city, heading in the general direction of the hospital. They eventually snaked through an alley.

“Okay, so this is what I’m thinkin’-“ Joel began to lay out their plan.

“Cut through that building to get around that stuff,” Ellie nodded towards the massive pile of rubble ahead, “Find the skyscraper, go up and look around.”

“Uhh, actually this time,” Joel changed course, “I was thinkin’ we blast our way through that rubble. I found some dynamite in that RV back there.”

Ellie’s ears perked up, while Y/n just smirked, “Really?”

“No,” Joel answered, “So we’re gonna cut through that building, find a skyscraper and look around,” he turned back and gauged Ellie’s reaction, “But I had you goin’, didn’t I?”

By virtue of having lived through the whole of the pandemic as an adult, it was easier for Y/n to be drawn out by Joel’s loving attempts. She’d seen the worst of humanity long before Ellie was born, and that allowed her to chuckle at Joel’s joke.

The threesome climbed the tallest skyscraper they could find. The lack of much inside told them that it had been abandoned before the pandemic had started.

“Look at this place,” he muttered as they walked past pallets and exposed beams, “Talk about bad luck. Military drops bombs, not one of ‘em hits the building you’re tryin’ to demolish.”

Y/n smiled at nothing other than the fact that Joel was talking so much before unlatching a gate to a closed off area of the site. Inside were tables with schematics and loose supplies, along with their only way to the next floor.

“Think I found our way up,” she announced, staring up at the open floor at least ten feet above them.

Joel came to her side and evaluated the height, the tip of an old ladder dangling over the edge. Y/n was in no condition for him to lift her up and retrieve it.

“I get you up there, you can drop that ladder down,” he called out to Ellie, “Maybe we go through that way. Come on, I’ll give you a boost.”

Y/n glanced over to Ellie, once again tuned out of their conversation and absentmindedly looking over the building schematics. Once Joel noticed her as well, the two of them made their way over.

“You okay?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ellie turned away from the table and averted her eyes.

“It’s just you kinda seem extra quiet today,” Joel said, trying to tiptoe around the matter, “So…”

“Oh,” Ellie quickly changed gears, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Joel reassured her, “Did you hear what I-“

“Yeah,” Ellie replied, “Boost. Got it.”

Without another word on the subject, the three of them walked back to the wooden pallets. Joel took the main spot holding Ellie’s foot while Y/n stood by, ready to help her if she wobbled.

“One, two,” Joel grunted, “Up!”

He lifted Ellie into the air and she shimmied her way onto the next level, Y/n nervously held her hands out like she did every time they did this.

“You good?” Y/n called up.

“Yeah,” Ellie twisted the rest of her body onto the floor. She started to lower the ladder down to Joel when her eye caught something, “Whoa…”

Ellie dropped the ladder, letting it slide past Joel and Y/n and clatter to the floor.

“Damn it, Ellie,” Joel exclaimed as he went to pick it up, “Shit.”

“Stay there,” Y/n called, trying to help Joel lift the ladder and instantly feeling the pain in her ribs, “Ah!”

Joel took the whole of the weight, “Don’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/n grunted, clutching her abdomen. She hated being out of commission just as much as Joel had hated her babying after his own injury.

Joel leaned the ladder against the next floor and helped Y/n up, waiting at the bottom until she was all the way up in case she fell.

“You gotta see this,” Ellie cried out.

“Gee,” Y/n groaned as she carefully rolled onto her stomach, “If only we had a way up…”

Joel followed suit, pulling Y/n to her feet with great care. “Ellie?!”

“Up here,” the girl yelled, she was already on the next level.

Y/n nodded towards the staircase, “Go, I’ll catch up.”

Reluctantly, Joel let his hand slip from Y/n’s waist and ran up the stairs, chasing after Ellie.

Y/n slowly made her way up the steps, stopping every thirty seconds to take a deep breath before continuing.

“Rose,” Joel would yell down every few seconds, telling her where they were.

“Here,” she’d call back, measuring the distance between their voices.

Eventually, Y/n made it to their floor, Joel was waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He took her hand, helping her up the rest of the way and the two of them walked through the cinderblock halls that at their end revealed…

Life.

Through a massive hole in the wall, a giraffe poked its head in, eating shrubbery that was growing on the building. A little further and there was at least half a mile of green grass and trees growing in the middle of the city. Ellie’s silhouette tied the whole picture together.

Y/n’s breath caught in her chest, it was beautiful.

Joel walked close behind Y/n, letting her take everything in first. He carefully removed his rifle and set it down beside him.

“Don’t scare it,” Ellie whispered.

“I won’t,” he promised, going to the greenery and ripping off a chunk.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“It’s all right,” Joel assured her, looking back expectantly, “Come on, hurry up. Come here.”

Y/n nudged Ellie forward, the girl took the leaves from Joel and came back to her spot. She carefully held out the plant to the giraffe, which took it quicker than she’d expected.

Joel held out another large handful to both Y/n and Elie, beaming down at them as they giggled, feeding the giraffe with childlike joy. Something magical was happening. The light was returning to Ellie’s eyes, her nose was scrunching up as she laughed. For the first time in two weeks, she was Ellie again. And because of that, so was Y/n.

Y/n stood beside Ellie with tears in her eyes, the trauma had lost. For just one minute in time, things felt okay again.

“So fucking cool,” Ellie said, just before the giraffe began to walk away, “Aw, where’s she going?”

Ellie took off through the building, chasing after the animal, “Come on, come on, come on, come on.”

Joel spun as he watched her leave, eliciting a laugh out of Y/n.

“You started it,” she smiled.

Joel threw the rifle back over his shoulder and grabbed Y/n’s hand, pulling the two of them down the next hall.

They pushed through the rusted door they’d just heard slam open and shut, and found themselves with an even better view of the greenery. The singular giraffe was part of a heard, six of them, including a baby, grazing in the flower dressed grass. The color alone was more than Joel or Y/n had seen in a while.

Tearing his eyes away from the nature, Joel looked to Y/n, who was struck speechless at the sight. They stood there, both drinking in the separate beauties they’d both been without for so long.

Once Y/n’s eyes caught Ellie, she tugged Joel down the steps and they came to stand beside her.

“So,” Joel said to Ellie, bracing himself against the wall, “Is it everything you hoped for?”

Y/n glanced down and smiled, remembering the first time he’d asked that question.

“It’s got its ups and downs,” she answered before smiling out, “But you can’t deny that view.”

Y/n was too caught up in both Ellie’s momentary joy and her own to catch Joel’s falling face.

“Look, I don’t know exactly where this hospital is-“ he started.

“Yeah, we’ll find it,” Ellie said with quiet confidence.

“Sure, it’s just-“ Joel squinted, searching for the right way to phrase what he wanted to say, “Maybe there’s nothin’ bad out there, but so far there’s always been somethin’ bad out there.”

Ellie shrugged, “We’re still here though.”

“A little worse for the wear,” Y/n grunted, readjusting her stance to accommodate her ribs, “But still here.”

“I know,” Joel replied, “I’m only sayin’ there’s risk.”

Y/n finally started to pay attention to what he was saying, how he was saying it.

“We don’t have to do this,” Joel turned to Ellie, “I just- I want you to know that.”

“What do you mean?” Ellie rotated to face him, “What else are we supposed to do?”

“Yeah, I’m a little lost too,” Y/n nudged Joel’s shoulder, making him split the difference and face them both.

“Nothin’, we just go back to Tommy’s,” Joel answered, “We forget about the whole damn thing.”

It was a shock to Y/n’s system, but not as much as it should have been. What started as a mission to save the remnants of humanity, had evolved into one goal: saving Ellie. The girl had never just been a salvation to Y/n, since the moment she’d met her, but after three months of caring for her…Ellie was so much more than just a cure. Running in the opposite direction to ensure her safety wasn’t the most insane idea for Joel to have.

“After all we’ve been through,” Ellie smiled sadly, “Everything I’ve done…It can’t be for nothing. I know you mean well. I know you wanna protect me, you have,” Ellie glanced past Joel to Y/n, “You both have. And when we’re done, we’ll go wherever you want. Tommy’s, sheep ranch, the moon...”

Joel and Y/n both smiled at the memory.

“I’ll follow you guys anywhere you go,” Ellie said with a finality to her tone, “But there’s no halfway with this. We finish what we started.”

Joel was satisfied with Ellie’s answer, it was her choice and no matter how much she’d follow him or Y/n, it was a two way street.

She had also just referenced a conversation took had never actually taken place.

“El, can you,” Y/n’s hand squirmed against the brick wall, “Can you give us a sec?”

Ellie’s eyes darted between Joel and Y/n, unsure of what had happened somewhere in between her words, “Sure.”

The girl meandered back the way they’d come, no doubt waiting to eavesdrop on the other side of the door.

Joel, for the first time since before Y/n and him had reconciled, was afraid to look into her eyes. He was scared to find an answer he didn’t want.

“We, uh,” Joel’s fist lightly bumped the brick, “We never actually talked about…us…did we?”

Y/n puffed out a deep breath, “No, we, uh…we did not.”

“Huh,” Joel replied, staring out at the giraffes, hoping they would distract him from dropping to his knees and begging Y/n to do what he hadn’t been strong enough to do.

Stay.

Y/n had spent the last three months technically still a Firefly without doing any of the work. Somewhere between Boston and Salt Lake City, she had stopped feeling like one altogether. Without Marlene there or the security of a base of operations and daily tasks, there had been room for something else to fill that void.

Ellie and, eventually, Joel.

“I know you…” Joel already felt he was going to fuck up the conversation, but was trying to delay it, “I know that when we get to the hospital, you’ll probably go back to work but I…” he struggled to keep what he truly wanted to say silent, “I just-“

“Joel,” Y/n held up a hand, turning fully towards him and smiling, “Stop.”

Joel did as requested and shut his mouth.

“I’ve spent the last twenty years just,” Y/n sighed, “Just wandering in circles. Trying to find some way to make the world better. The Fireflies gave me that chance and though our methods haven’t always been the most,” Y/n frowned, “Peaceful…I like to think we’ve done some sort of good.”

Joel’s chest tightened, sensing where the conversation was headed.

Y/n looked back out at the greenery, her confidence suddenly withering under the intensity of Joel’s gaze. “But you,” she said, finding the strength to look back, “You were all I ever really wanted. You, Sarah, Tommy…” Y/n’s throat began to clog with emotion, “You guys were it for me. And I never thought I’d be able to get that back and then…” she shrugged, “I got it.”

Joel’s eyes were starting to mist, it was unavoidable to feel the ghost of Sarah’s presence every time Y/n mentioned their family.

“And I don’t think I could handle losing you a second time,” Y/n strained, smiling past the tears, “I know I couldn’t.”

Joel felt around for her hand and held it as tight as he should have two decades before.

Y/n inhaled deeply, “So this is the last job. That it’s. After today,” she cupped Joel’s cheek, tenderly rubbing her thumb over his scruff, “I’m all yours.”

It was everything Joel wanted to hear, everything.

“We go back to Tommy’s,” Y/n continued, “We go back to that house, and we make it a home.”

The pure relief that released through Joel’s body made him nudge closer, his forehead dropping to touch Y/n’s. He shut his eyes, savoring the rhapsody of the life she was laying out for them.

“I love you,” Joel muttered, the words hanging in the slim space between them. He said it with all the earnestness of someone still trying to make up for their sins.

“I know you do,” Y/n fingers brushed Joel’s lips, trying to reassure him that he didn’t need to prove anything. Their past was their past, and their future would be their future.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Joel said, shaking his head against Y/n’s “I know I gotta earn it.”

Y/n wet her lips and smiled, “I actually said something along the lines when you were passed out.”

Joel pulled back just enough to scan Y/n’s face, “Oh, you did?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/n hummed.

As patient a man as Joel was, he was eager to hear the words he’d been deprived of so long. “You feel like…repeatin’ yourself?”

“Mmm,” Y/n’s smile turned coy, “Not really, no.”

Joel smirked, “No?”

The adoration in Y/n’s eyes couldn’t have been more real, “No.”

Tugging her hips forward, Joel’s lips stretched into a grin as they pressed a deep kiss to Y/n’s.

Y/n had watched her future with Joel come back to life, plummet to its near-death and reawaken in the span of two and a half weeks. She had spent twenty years trying to atone for her failures, and selfishly, she wanted to rest. She wanted to wake up every morning and fall asleep every night in Joel’s arms. She wanted to teach Ellie how to tend to a garden and cook actual food. She wanted to meet Tommy’s kid.

She wanted her life back.

“Are you two done over there?” Ellie called through the rusted steel door.

Y/n and Joel chuckled as they broke apart, Joel lovingly rubbing the tip of his nose against Y/n’s. In a matter of days, they’d have the rest of their lives to hold each other, kiss each other. After they completed their mission, they never had to spend another day apart.

—————————

If Joel and Y/n had made any peace with what had happened to them, it was overshadowed by a darkness only one of them could see.

A half mile from the skyscraper and through a tunnel, lay the carcass of a triage clinic. Joel and Y/n recognized the skeleton immediately, both of them tensing internally for different reasons.

“Was this a FEDRA thing?” Ellie asked, blissfully oblivious.

“No,” Y/n answered, her hand interlocked with Joel’s, “The army set these up the day after the outbreak. Medical camps for people to get their wounds tended to.”

Joel’s finger anxiously rubbed against Y/n’s hand, “They had us in one just like this.”

“With Sarah?” Ellie asked, it was the first time she’d spoken the girl’s name out loud.

“No,” Joel answered, “She was gone already.”

“Oh,” Ellie nodded, “So what was wrong with you guys?”

“I took a bullet to the side,” Y/n said, thinking about the white scar that rested just above her waist.

Joel pointed upwards to the mark on his temple, “It was for this.”

“Ah, the guy who shot and missed,” Ellie remembered from one of their earliest conversations, “I figured that would have happened later.”

“No,” Joel said plainly, “Second day.”

“Wait,” Y/n’s brow creased in confusion, “Why am I not remembering this?”

Joel let Y/n’s hand slip from his as he started to walk sideways, stopping in their tracks. If they were going to spend the rest of their lives together, they had to do it honestly. But he didn’t think he could handle looking into Y/n’s eyes while saying what he was about to.

“Well, I’ve gotta hand it to the Army people,” Ellie continued walking, “They were way better at stitching you up than I was.”

“I still don’t remember this,” Y/n said, a little louder from frustration with her memory.

Joel took just enough breath to get out the truth.

“It was me.”

While Ellie and Y/n both stopped their steps at the same time, the realization of what Joel meant hit them at different speeds. Y/n knew immediately.

“I was the guy who shot and missed,” Joel expanded, his eyes flicking in Y/n’s direction and quickly turning back down. He moved to sit on a piece of concrete, removing his rifle before doing so.

Ellie followed, coming to sit next to him, but Y/n stayed planted where she was, unable to move.

“There’s no story,” Joel began to explain, “Sarah died…and I couldn’t see the point anymore. Simple as that.”

The day spun back in Y/n’s head like a VHS tape being rewound over and over. She played back Joel, in all his grief crazed delusions, telling her she was a liar and storming off. His fist breaking through the glass window of the truck before stealing it and speeding off. His glassy, grief-struck gaze…

The signs were all there as to what happened after he’d left.

“And I wasn’t scared either, I was ready,” Joel looked off, remembering the feel of false peace that had fallen over him in that moment, “I couldn’t have been more ready.”

Y/n’s lip trembled before anything else, hesitating between crying and staying silent.

“When I-“ Joel hesitated, chewing on the side of his lip, “When I…went to pull the trigger, I flinched. Still don’t know why.”

Joel didn’t dare look up at Y/n, lest he lose what nerve he still had. “Anyway,” he went back to addressing Ellie, “The reason I’m tellin’ you all this-“

“I know why you’re telling me this,” Ellie interrupted.

“Yeah,” Joel sighed, “I reckon you do.”

A few beats of silence rested between them, Y/n’s tears pooling in her eyes, Joel staring ahead at the ground and Ellie, with one foot back out in the light.

“So time heals all wounds, I guess,” the girl mused.

Joel, for all his initial denial, knew exactly what had caused him to be able to talk about his trauma so freely. Three months of raging against his instincts, fighting ever smile, laugh and loving gaze, had landed him right where he’d never wanted to end up. Except it was all he wanted, every single part of it.

He looked to Ellie first, “It wasn’t time that did it.”

When her understanding gaze crossed with Joel’s, he glanced over to Y/n, still stuck in place with her red cheeks and puffy eyes.

They hadn’t just saved his life, they had brought him back to life.

“Well, I’m glad that-“ Ellie eventually gathered the words, her voice on the verge of cracking, “That didn’t work out.”

Joel nodded, “Me too.”

Y/n finally took a step forward, before her feet practically flew her forward to Joel. She came to stand over his leg, drawing his face upwards until she had the whole view.

Joel’s wet eyes gazed up into hers, the freedom that came with the terrible truth granting him to strength to face her.

Y/n tilted Joel’s head so she could see his temple and the terribly tragic scar across it. With shaking fingers, she grazed the skin and it all suddenly became real. Joel had really almost gone through with it. She flashed back the pain in his eyes the day he’d abandoned her, the sorrow, the grief, the utter despair…

His hand trembling, Joel reached up to encircle Y/n’s wrist, trying to be with her as she processed it all. He was the source of so much of her pain, and all he wanted to do was give her a future built on hope. This was the last time he’d ever hurt her.

If Joel would have pulled the trigger, he would have changed the lives of everyone around him or that ever would be around him. Tess wouldn’t have had a partner, Tommy would have certainly died in an act of bravery, and Ellie and Y/n would have been dead before they ever left Boston.

But none of those thoughts crossed Y/n’s head. All she could think about was how utterly empty her life would have stayed if she never would have seen Joel again.

With a stifled sob, Y/n wrapped her arms around Joel’s head, pulling him into her chest and burying her face in his hair. Joel fisted the back of her shirt, feeling a stitch in the fabric pop from the force he was holding her with. Y/n ignored the ache in her ribs, she needed to feel Joel more than anything.

They stayed lost in each other until Y/n moved to press her lips to Joel’s temple, softly kissing the scar that had almost kept them apart. Joel felt ripped to pieces and entirely complete at the same time.

The last divide between them had been shattered.

“I love you,” Y/n whispered against the scar. Joel dug his face deeper into her chest, oxygen deprivation mattering not so long as he was swallowed by her body.

Y/n tried to pull herself together, it wasn’t until Jackson that she’d be able to let herself fall apart fully. She smoothed Joel’s wild hair back down as much as she could and dragged her palm under her eyes. Joel’s hands traced the sides of her hips on their way down from her back, paying extra mind to her ribs.

“We should probably get going,” Ellie announced, too overcome by both her own emotions and Joel and Y/n’s.

“Yeah,” Y/n and Joel both hummed a variation of as they dried the remnants of their tears. Before they took another step, Joel grabbrd Y/n’s hand again, locking her into his side.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Joel asked, his voice somewhat cheerful again as he looked to Ellie.

“What?” Ellie glanced up expectantly at him.

“Shitty puns.”

“Oh, Lord,” Y/n smiled.

“Oh ho-ho,” Ellie exclaimed, twisting her backpack to pull out the book.

Y/n gave a mock salute, “That’s it. This is where I leave you,” she began to let her steps drift away from Joel, “Give the Fireflies my regards.”

Joel smiled deeply, pulling her back into him. Ellie was already searching through her book for the perfect page.

“‘People are making apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow,’” she recited, catching Joel’s disapproving stare after, “Too soon?”

He snapped out of his fake-out, grinning after, “No, it’s topical.”

Ellie laughed, “Oh, I love this one! ‘Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Why?’”

Deciding to egg on her less enthusiastic guardian, Ellie looked across their row, waiting for Y/n to reply.

“Why?” Y/n said, rolling her eyes in good humor.

“‘Cause they’re meteor,” Ellie delivered the punch line.

Joel grimaced, “Oh, that’s terrible.”

“If you’re gonna set me up,” Y/n complained, “At least pick a good one.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie exclaimed, “That was actually good.”

“That’s a zero outta ten,” Joel finished.

“All right, all right,” Ellie flipped to the second page, “‘What did the green grape say to the purple grape?’”

Y/n snorted, already guessing where the joke was going.

“‘Breathe, you idiot,’” Ellie answered.

Joel’s lips crept upwards, “That was a three out of ten.”

“Seven, minimum,” Ellie corrected.

“I’ll go as high as five,” Y/n countered.

“Yeah, five,” Joel agreed, swinging his and Y/n’s hands a little, “Five outta ten.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped in shock, “Five?”

The clink and the hiss from behind them turned them all around. Y/n and Joel spotted the flash bomb, their bodies reacting quickly and throwing themselves over Ellie.

The three of them were knocked to the ground in a smoky haze.

Five seconds or five minutes, no one could tell. Y/n couldn’t clearly see more than a few inches in front of her, spotting Joel’s watch and Ellie’s grey sleeve.

“Joel,” she could hear Ellie calling out past the ringing in her ears, “Y/n.”

“El,” Y/n called back, attempting to move with the new pain in her abdomen, “Joel.”

“Y/n,” Joel breathed.

Thudding footsteps broke through the next layer of hearing loss, Y/n blinked a couple times to see Ellie’s body being picked up.

“Joel,” she cried, “Y/n!”

“Ellie!” Joel yelled, reaching to grab Y/n’s hand as they struggled to pick themselves up.

“Ellie!”

It was the last thing any of them heard before everything went dark.

————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)

[spoonerise]

Can I offer a response to this poem written by the poet Aja Monet, called “for the kids who live”

“what becomes of children who survive us?

indigo rosebuds or sunflowers risen of landfills

voices made of tire swings and milk crates

stick figures in sand drawn by fallen twigs

who looks history in the eye, grins

imagines worlds away within

the power to better

love above law

risk above comfort

for the lost and departed

wandering in memories unspoken

who will unruin this generation

their right to bloom brilliant,

stumble or fall

enchanted by tomorrows

here’s to the kids who live in Liberty City

bounce house and jumping rope

where no bullet lives to tell a fairytale

for the kids whose toes dip on shores

songs made of sandcastles and broken glass

rinsed by rushing water

return home to a land that welcomes another way

where no child is a refugee

here’s to the kids who live to see a world without walls

to the kids who cross-

examine borders, time zones, and language

who dab presidents out of rooms

and judges out of courthouses

a vote with values

music with no commercials

for the preservation of rivers, parks, and birds

to the kids who live

praise wind, light, and rain

here’s to the words they speak

trembling of blameless rage

old spirits thundering on tongues

here’s to holding hands with fortunetellers

to the kids who read palms

a gift with no return address

a world without begging fingers

to the kids who live in food desert boroughs

jubilant with full bellies and crops of care

thirst quenched from free fountains

here’s to the kids who live in tears turned from laughter

to serious play

may they never know caskets

before grayed hair and wrinkled skin

like crinkled poems in a old lover’s hold

here’s to the ones who live in photo albums

images teased of dreams

bless the child who remembers

who questions

and answers with courage

or the kids who live to bury their elders

bare a new story made possible

a test, a struggle, a journey that reveals the heart

here’s to the kids who live

who live and dare us

stand a side

may they embarrass us

show us who we are

here’s to the kids who live in us and never leave

resting in the dimples of a mirror

stretching through a glance

how many kids must die for us to live?

here’s to the kids who live in us

to the kids who live and demand

we act

in the doing

here and now

awestruck and unafraid”

whats your favorite poem?

"This is for the kids who die, Black and white, For kids will die certainly. The old and rich will live on awhile, As always, Eating blood and gold, Letting kids die.

Kids will die in the swamps of Mississippi Organizing sharecroppers Kids will die in the streets of Chicago Organizing workers Kids will die in the orange groves of California Telling others to get together Whites and Filipinos, Negroes and Mexicans, All kinds of kids will die Who don't believe in lies, and bribes, and contentment And a lousy peace.

Of course, the wise and the learned Who pen editorials in the papers, And the gentlemen with Dr. in front of their names White and black, Who make surveys and write books Will live on weaving words to smother the kids who die, And the sleazy courts, And the bribe-reaching police, And the blood-loving generals, And the money-loving preachers Will all raise their hands against the kids who die, Beating them with laws and clubs and bayonets and bullets To frighten the people— For the kids who die are like iron in the blood of the people— And the old and rich don't want the people To taste the iron of the kids who die, Don't want the people to get wise to their own power, To believe an Angelo Herndon, or even get together

Listen, kids who die— Maybe, now, there will be no monument for you Except in our hearts Maybe your bodies'll be lost in a swamp Or a prison grave, or the potter's field, Or the rivers where you're drowned like Leibknecht But the day will come— You are sure yourselves that it is coming— When the marching feet of the masses Will raise for you a living monument of love, And joy, and laughter, And black hands and white hands clasped as one, And a song that reaches the sky— The song of the life triumphant Through the kids who die."

– Langston Hughes, "Kids Who Die"

[rosewomanus]

Rosebud Woman – Nurturing Women's Intimate Wellness and Self-Care

Rosebud Woman is committed to empowering women through natural and holistic intimate care products. Specially designed to support feminine wellness, Rosebud Woman offers a range of products that promote comfort, healing, and self-love. Whether you're looking for daily intimate care or restorative treatments, Rosebud Woman ensures that every product is crafted with care to nurture and protect. Discover the power of self-care with Rosebud Woman and elevate your wellness journey.

[rosebudtaxi]

Mornington Taxi Service: Transforming Travels into Delightful Journeys

In the breathtaking Mornington Peninsula, where natural beauty meets modern convenience, a reliable transportation service stands as a beacon of accessibility and efficiency. Mornington Peninsula Taxi Service has become an indispensable ally for both locals and visitors, offering a quick, dependable, and safe mode of transportation that enhances the overall travel experience.

Navigating the Peninsula's winding roads and diverse attractions can be a daunting task for those unfamiliar with the area. However, Mornington Peninsula Taxi Service eliminates the stress and uncertainty, providing travelers with an effortless way to explore the region's varied charms. With a team of knowledgeable and proficient drivers, dedicated to meeting customer needs, each journey becomes a seamless and enjoyable adventure. Mornington Peninsula Taxi Service boasts a diverse fleet, catering to the unique requirements of every traveler. From solo explorers to families and groups, their extensive range of vehicles ensures a perfect match. Whether you seek the comfort of a standard sedan, the spaciousness of an SUV, or the luxury of a high-end ride for a special occasion, their fleet has you covered.

Expertise and Training: A Winning Combination

At the heart of Rosebud Taxi lies a team of highly trained professionals who possess an unparalleled understanding of the region's intricate roadways. Through comprehensive training and hands-on experience, their drivers are equipped to navigate the Peninsula's twists and turns with ease, ensuring that passengers reach their destinations swiftly and safely.

Visitors can bid farewell to the hassles of parking and navigating unfamiliar routes, as these seasoned drivers take the wheel, allowing them to fully immerse themselves in the Peninsula's captivating attractions without any distractions.

Unparalleled Service and Reliability

Mornington Peninsula Taxi Service prides itself on delivering unparalleled service and reliability. Whether you require transportation for appointments, work, school, or errands, their dedicated team ensures a timely and comfortable journey. They cater to clients from organizations such as TAC, WorkSafe, and NDIS, providing specialized services tailored to their unique needs.

Furthermore, their commitment to excellence extends to corporate clients, offering a business-class service that prioritizes professionalism, courtesy, and luxury. Enjoy the extra space, skilled drivers, and opulent vehicles that define their premium offering, ensuring a truly remarkable travel experience.

Environmental Responsibility and Community Engagement

In a region renowned for its natural splendor, Mornington Peninsula Taxi Service recognizes the importance of environmental responsibility. By encouraging the use of taxis over personal vehicles, they contribute to the reduction of pollution and traffic congestion, safeguarding the Peninsula's pristine landscapes for future generations.

Moreover, their deep-rooted connection with the local community drives them to actively support charities, events, and initiatives, solidifying their role as a trusted and engaged partner in the region's growth and development.

Seamless Booking and Real-Time Updates

Booking a taxi with Rosebud Taxi is a seamless and convenient experience. With multiple booking options, including a dedicated phone line, online platform, and mobile app, arranging transportation has never been easier. Real-time monitoring tools keep you informed about your ride's arrival, providing an additional layer of confidence and peace of mind.

Upon receiving your booking, an automatic email with detailed reservation information is promptly sent to your email address, allowing you to review the specifics at your convenience. Their team will also contact you to confirm the reservation, ensuring a seamless and hassle-free experience from start to finish.

Reliable and Affordable Services for Every Occasion

Mornington Peninsula Taxi Service extends its expertise beyond daily commutes, offering reliable and practical transportation solutions for a wide range of occasions. Whether you require airport transfers, transportation for special events or weddings, or package delivery services, their dedicated team is prepared to cater to your unique needs with professionalism and efficiency.

As the largest taxi service in Australia, Mornington Peninsula Taxi Service takes immense pride in providing the highest quality of customer service, coupled with a stable and secure service that prioritizes your safety and satisfaction.

Experience the Best in Transportation Excellence

Elevate your travel experience on the Mornington Peninsula with Rosebud Taxi Service. Their unwavering commitment to excellence, diverse fleet, knowledgeable drivers, and adaptable solutions ensure that every journey is a delightful and memorable one.

Embrace the convenience, comfort, and peace of mind that comes with entrusting your transportation needs to the region's premier taxi service. Whether you're a local seeking reliable commuting options or a visitor eager to explore the Peninsula's captivating landscapes, Mornington Peninsula Taxi Service is your trusted partner in seamless and unforgettable travel experiences.

[bkale12]

Savor Virtually: Restaurant Tour Experience

Savour the experience before you even arrive with our virtual restaurant tour. Take a mouthwatering journey through our ambiance, decor, and culinary delights from the comfort of your screen. Discover the perfect setting for your next dining adventure, all with the click of a button.