#no matter what it'll start a fight

[strohller27]

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[unclefungusthegoat]

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[stardustmorozov]

My Love Is Between My Teeth

Summary: What kind and where the lads boys like to give you hickeys...

Pairing(s): Sylus, Caleb, Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel x reader (all seperate)

A/N: It has been a good while since I have written anything substantial, but it feels good to be back tbh. This is my first time writing for Love And Deepspace, but given how I am enjoying the game so far, I hope there'll be plenty more to come!

Warnings: some spicyness if you squint, some possessiveness (esp from sylus),

Sylus: If given half the chance, he'll litter your entire torso with increasingly dark hickeys, so that no matter what type of clothing you intend to wear in the morning, some of them will always be visible. And don't you dare try to hide them, he wants to make sure everyone who looks your way knows without a shadow of a doubt that you're taken.

Caleb: He loves nibbling at you, playfully nipping at the sensitive skin of your throat and just under your ears. His hickeys often end up more as red little love bites on your neck when he's in bed with you. He spent so long away from you and now that he finally has you in his arms he both desperately wants to make up for lost time and also make sure he will never lose you again.

Zayne: Adores marking you up, yet he always seems to hold back with just how dark he wants to make them. Often sticking to love bites that hover on the line of being a full on hickey with his favourite areas being your collarbones and just on the underside of your chest. With your job as a Deepspace Hunter being as dangerous as it is, he wants to be able to clearly differentiate between the marks he put on you and the injuries you inevitably end up with while fighting wanderers.

Xavier: Depending on the mood Xavier is in he either likes to litter your entire torso with little love bites that'll have almost completely faded by the time you wake up again, or he wants to mark every inch of your neck, throat and shoulders with deep coloured hickeys and there is very little in between. Most of the time he can hardly believe that you are his and his alone and he'll let you know this when he marks you up with something that is almost akin to reverence, yet when he thinks he has cause to be jealous, that reverence will melt into a simmering possessiveness that is best not disturbed in the moment.

Rafayel: Approaches giving you hickeys with the same amount of thought as he does his paintings. Thoughtfully and deliberate. Which sometimes means he can take hours just marking you up, tasting you on his tongue and feel your skin between his teeth as he draws marks on your body and whines and whimpers from your lips. Sometimes he'll deliberately slow his pace, just to see how long it'll take you to start begging him to hurry up and give you exactly what you want.

[ddejavvu]

can you write something about how the gang handles a really emotional Curtis sister... Like she literally doesn't even know why shes crying most of the time she just is. She is literally me

send me requests for the outsiders!

--

At Dallas's groan, "Ah, here come the fuckin' waterworks again," all eyes are on you. You'd been hoping to fly under the radar, but now that seven pairs of eyes are staring at you, your tears escape hot and free down your cheeks.

"It's- I'm fine!" You insist, voice thick and choppy as you rush for the bathroom. You don't shut the door, because even if you did you know someone would have barged in. It's predictably Darry and Soda, but Two-Bit lingers in the hallway, peering in worriedly.

"You're okay, kid." Darry encourages you, a strong hand on your shoulder to help you get yourself under control, "Somethin' the matter?"

"What's with the tears, Baby Curtis?" Two asks, "Movie gettin' to 'ya?"

It's a horror movie- it's safe to say you're not sniffling over blood and guts.

"No, it's-" You sniffle, letting Sodapop tug you into his side where he's now perched on the lid of the toilet. He slings an arm around your waist and you lean gratefully into his side, thankful for the pressure of a body against yours.

"It's nothing. I don't know." You shrug helplessly, and Two smiles- kindly, not teasingly.

"You've got a condition or somethin'." He decides, traipsing back into the living room, "We oughta turn you in to a doctor, have them diagnose you with some crazy new brain condition. Maybe they could name it after you, kid."

"Yeah, Crybaby Curtis syndrome," Steve snickers, and Soda shouts a halfhearted, 'Be nice!' to his friend despite not being able to see him.

"Lay off, Steve," Johnny groans, and you hear Ponyboy chime in with a fervent, 'Yeah!' that he would have kept to himself had Johnny not led the charge. Despite having the upper hand, Ponyboy still struggles to pick fights with Steve. Usually it's a losing battle.

"Come on, kiddo." Darry urges, and Soda sticks close to your side as you shuffle back into the living room. Dallas doesn't move aside to give you your old seat back where he's stretched out over half of it, but he also doesn't protest when you throw your leg over his own to fit on the cushion.

"You've gotta man up, kid." Dally decides, snatching his cigarette out of his mouth and blowing the smoke into your face, "Can't be burstin' into tears all the time. People are gonna think you're weak."

"I am weak," You concede feebly, wiping at one last tear that streaks down your cheeks, "I don't know why it happens most'uh the time. Just does."

"Some people are just like that." Johnny smiles kindly at you, and you appreciate his sweetness, "We ain't gonna judge you."

"It'll be great for gettin' out of trouble," Sodapop grins mischieviously at you, "Just think, when you're a wild child in high school, and you're comin' home drunk at 2AM, Darry's gonna yell at you. Just flash him those teary eyes of yours and he'll get all soft for 'ya, he'll let you off real easy."

"Hey- Don't you go givin' her any ideas." Darry points a warning finger at Soda, and Ponyboy scoffs, surely jealous at the prospect of your secret weapon.

You share a secret smile with Soda, though, one that's hidden from both of your brothers. Two-Bit catches it and snorts, "Damn, Darry. I'm not itchin' to be you in a few years."

"Well then you'd better start hangin' out at your own house every once in a while," Darry glares at him, "You spend so much time here I'm gonna give you a chore on the chore chart."

"I don't even do chores at my own place," Two-Bit snickers, like the suggestion is the funniest one he's ever heard. He stretches his arm out behind your head, resting it on your far shoulder, "Just call me whenever you're goin' to those parties, Y/N, and I'll get drunker'n you, make you look like a saint in comparison."

"Dally's a saint in comparison to you, Two-Bit," Ponyboy gripes, "Just don't climb through my window expecting me to help you sneak past Darry."

"Now I mean it, boys," Darry snaps, "Don't go givin' her ideas! Conversation over."

Dallas waits all of three seconds before leaning down, tucking his face beside your ear so that he can drawl, "I'll teach you how to sneak past him if you can go without cryin' for a day."

"Deal." You hold out a pinky for him to link with his own, and if anyone else in Tulsa had offered it, they'd have gotten slugged. Instead, Dallas's finger curls around yours, and he shoots you a shit-eating grin, eyes glimmering dangerously, "24 hours, crybaby. Don't let me down."

[justaz]

I beg. Please. Reread the books. I need the reliance on fanon to stop. Canon is right there.

No one “debated saving Nico”. They all agreed immediately to save him:

When Percy was dreaming of Nico trapped in the jar he said: “‘Nico,’ Percy said, ‘where is this place? We'll save you....’” - Literally the first time he sees Nico, he decides that they’re going to save him

Then after Percy tells everyone at the table, their reaction is: “‘The giants are trying to lure us," Annabeth said. ‘They're assuming we'll try to rescue him.’ / ‘Well, they're right!’ Hazel looked around the table, her confidence apparently crumbling. ‘Won't we?’ / ‘Yes!’ Coach Hedge yelled with a mouthful of napkins. ‘It'll involve fighting, right?’ / ‘Hazel, of course we'll help him,’ Frank said. ‘But how long do we have before... uh, I mean, how long can Nico hold out?’” - Of course Hazel agrees immediately, as does Coach Hedge and Frank

After discussing the seeds, Piper says: “‘That's not much time,’ Piper summed up. She put her hand on Hazel's shoulder. ‘We'll find him. At least we know what the lines of the prophecy mean now. 'Twins snuff out the angel's breath, who holds the key to endless death.' Your brother's last name: di Angelo. Angelo is Italian for 'angel.'’” - Piper agrees immediately and brings up the prophecy which reaffirms the importance of Nico and a key part he plays in the quest, which means they need to save him

Percy introspection and final vocal agreement: “Percy stared at his jelly donut. He had a rocky history with Nico di Angelo. The guy had once tricked him into visiting Hades's palace, and Percy had ended up in a cell. But most of the time, Nico sided with the good guys. He certainly didn't deserve slow suffocation in a bronze jar, and Percy couldn't stand seeing Hazel in pain. ‘We'll rescue him,’ he promised her. ‘We have to. The prophecy says he holds the key to endless death.’” - Which is the set up for what people are actually in such an uproar about, the questioning of Nico’s loyalty even though the question is completely valid as Percy points out here. Nico is more a rogue agent, he does his own thing like when he lured Percy down to the Underworld to receive information about his mother. Sure he didn’t know what Hades would do, but Percy didn’t know there was a deviation to the plan in the first place - a plan in which he was already risking his life, trusting in Nico only to be betrayed even if Nico didn’t mean for it to be one.

Argo II scoreboard right now is 5/8 vocally agreeing to save him, no matter what the rest say, the votes are in favor of a rescue mission, especially with the importance the prophecy places on Nico. The only ones who haven’t vocally agreed to save him are Annabeth, Leo, and Jason.

Leo starts the vocal questioning of the safety and security of the plan: “‘Uh...’ Leo shifted in his chair. ‘One thing. The giants are expecting us to do this, right? So we're walking into a trap?’ / Hazel looked at Leo like he'd made a rude gesture. ‘We have no choice!’” - Leo is simply questioning the plan and Hazel reacts viscerally because she’s so focused in on Nico being in danger that the slightest hesitation seems like a worse problem than it is. Nothing against Hazel, I’d react the same way if it was my brother, but still Leo never said “let’s not save this emo loser” he’s just saying that there is a clear threat posed here that they’re walking right up to

Leo and Jason voice the same opinion: “‘Don't get me wrong, Hazel. It's just that your brother, Nico... he knew about both camps, right?’ / ‘Well, yes,’ Hazel said. / ‘He's been going back and forth,’ Leo said, ‘and he didn't tell either side.’ / Jason sat forward, his expression grim. ‘You're wondering if we can trust the guy. So am I.’” - They don’t question saving him, they question the plan and Nico’s loyalty. For good reason. Again, Nico is established more as a rogue agent. Who’s to say he didn’t side with the giants and is in cahoots with them to lure the Seven into this trap for Gaea to bring Bianca or his mother back? They’re pointing out concerns and questions, it’d be idiotic to go into this situation with a half-baked plan and no backups if they don’t consider all possibilities and Nico’s loyalty has always been up in the air which is a huge red flag in this situation

Climax of the “debate”: “Hazel shot to her feet. ‘I don't believe this. He's my brother. He brought me back from the Underworld, and you don't want to help him?’ / Frank put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Nobody's saying that.’ He glared at Leo. ‘Nobody had better be saying that.’ / Leo blinked. ‘Look, guys. All I mean is-‘ / ‘Hazel,’ Jason said. ‘Leo is raising a fair point. I remember Nico from Camp Jupiter. Now I find out he also visited Camp Half-Blood. That does strike me as... well, a little shady. Do we really know where his loyalties lie? We just have to be careful.’” - And then Hazel blows up and storms off. Frank reassured Hazel that no one was saying that then gave Leo the push to make it clear that wasn’t what he was saying and that’s what Leo was going to do (clarifying his point) before Jason cuts in and defends Leo from the offense that Hazel is on. He reaffirms that they’re just questioning his loyalty, they have to be careful when going to rescue him, they never said they would leave him to suffocate and rot.

Please stop this propaganda and reread the books or at least the wiki. I swear fanon has y’all in a goddamn chokehold.

Anyways, here’s the apology scene so y’all will maybe shut up:

“‘…Sometimes demigods make bad choices.’ He looked sheepishly at Hazel. ‘Like sometimes we're too suspicious. And we speak without thinking.’ / Hazel stared at him. Slowly it seemed to dawn on her that he was apologizing. / Jason elbowed Leo. / ‘Ow!’ Leo yelped. ‘I mean, yeah...bad choices. Like not trusting people's brothers who, you know, might need saving. Hypothetically speaking.’” - Apologizing for being suspicious and not trusting Nico, not apologizing for not wanting to save him, apologizing for their suspicious words against Nico’s loyalties hurting Hazel

[crystalrabbit246912]

Promise Rings

There's a ring on Ace's pinky finger that Cater doesn't know how it got there.

There's a ring on Deuce's pinky finger that Trey doesn't remember showing up.

There's a ring on Jack's pinky finger that Ruggie can't steal because he guards it with his life.

There's a ring on Epel's pinky finger that Vil didn't give to him that he wears despite how much he hates jewelry.

There's a ring on Ortho's pinky finger that Idia didn't make and he doesn't know how it's staying on his little brother.

There's a ring on Sebek's pinky finger that Silver knows could be a liability in battle yet he wears it anyway.

There's a ring on Yuu's pinky finger that they mess with when they're anxious that just showed up there one day.

There's a ring on all of the freshmen's pinky fingers and there's a story behind those rings.

There's always been a hidden promise between Ace, Deuce, and Yuu.

No one knows about it except for them, because they don't talk about it. They've never even mentioned it to each other aside from quiet nights in Ramshackle that they'll never talk about again.

It's hard to believe, sometimes, when they wake up from nightmares of red and black and rose bushes and sand, but they remember it, would remember it even if they forgot everything else.

Because the world is harsh and it's dangerous in Night Raven College, so they cling to the promise like it's a life preserver and they're drowning.

Because maybe they are drowning. Drowning in fights and bad grades and the endless dreams of red and black and the water pressing in and they were so close to death in a place where they should have been safe.

So they remember their promise. The promise that they never speak of, the promise that they'll always remember, the promise that's the only thing keeping them afloat.

It started one night, not a quiet one, but rather a loud one. One with a mine and a phantom and a monster that no one will ever know about except for them.

Ever since then, they've been terrified to leave each other's sights, because last time Yuu let Ace out of their sight, it ended with a collar around his neck.

And before that, it ended in a broken chandelier.

So one day, when Yuu's sent out on an errand to the town in the foothills by the Headmage, they bring some of their precious, hard-earned money with them. They buy three rings, three simple, steel rings.

They take them back and give one to Ace, one to Deuce, put one on for themselves, and never take it off again.

Because it's a reminder of their promise, the hidden promise that they'll always be there no matter what happens.

Jack arrives next. He's let in slowly, carefully enfolded into the group so that no part of him, not even his tail, is sticking out. He's let in and he's informed of the promise on one of those quiet nights that they spend staring up at the moon and trying to push away the thoughts of red and black and sand and water.

Yuu slips off to the foothill town with Ace and Deuce in tow and buys another ring.

Jack never takes it off and keeps a careful eye on it to make sure that Ruggie doesn't steal it, because it's worth more than the hyena will ever know.

Epel comes next, a good portion of the way into the school year. They've already set up their dynamic and his arrival throws it all off, but they let him in the door and he settles in with his hands shaking more than he'd ever admit.

The promise would seem cheesy to him at any other time, but right now his eyes are red-rimmed and his veins look darker than before because of the poison still in them and he needs that sense of reassurance.

The ring is offered to him with a smile and no words are exchanged, but they all know what it means. No one else does and no one else ever will, not even Rook, but they know. They know it like they know nothing else.

Ortho. His ring is different, made of magnets so that it'll stay on him, but it looks the exact same. He doesn't wake up from nightmares like the rest of them do, but sometimes, his eyes are like haunted tragedies.

After all.

His very existence is one, isn't it?

Sebek. He comes last and he finishes the puzzle off like they never knew they were missing the last piece. He's hesitant to wear the ring at first but-

But sometimes, he wakes up and he's not sure that he's awake. That Malleus hasn't put him to sleep again. That it's actually finally over.

The ring is never there in his dreams where the thorns take over and the briar roses linger. It's never there because it wasn't there in the past and it's his way of telling that he's awake.

If any of their upperclassmen ask about the ring that they didn't see show up, the ring that just appeared one day and looked like it belonged, they'll just smile.

"What are you talking about? It was always here. You're just seeing things."

After all, their promise is for their ears only and only on those quiet nights full of red and black and rose bushes and sand, of water and snakes and poison and blue fire and thorns and endless dreams.

No one else is to know of their silent promise, the one that says:

"Together, forever, and no death will do us part because we'll all jump into the open maws together should one fall."

[rainbowsmagicandshit]

Arthur repeals the magic ban! Yay! Druids, Catha, and all others come to Camelot to live peacefully under the reign of the Once And Future King! Yay! The Golden Age is starting! Yay! Merlin still hasn’t told Arthur about magic! …He’s just waiting for the right time. Things have just happened so fast and he just doesn’t know how to bring it all up.

Well, as Arthur and the rest of Camelot get more comfortable with magic, Arthur makes a decision. He’s tried teaching Merlin every type of weapon out there, and he’s hopeless with every one of them. But, Merlin still insists on coming with him on dangerous quests. So, Arthur decides to have Merlin try his hand at magic so he has some sort of self defense.

Merlin: ...You want me to what?

Arthur: I know! I know, Merlin! Magic can be dangerous! But I found a wonderful teacher for you. Say hello, Wallace.

Wallace: Hello

Arthur: He's perfectly trustworthy! And, it'll all be perfectly safe!

Merlin: Arthur, there's something you need to know. About me and magic--

Arthur: I know what you're going to say, Merlin, and--

Merlin: I really don't think you know--

Arthur: --please, for me, just try this. I know you don't really like magic. But please, Merlin. And, you know, even if you're crap at it--which you likely are like everything else--you could probably at least get your eyes to do the gold thing. That'll probably scare off some people from hurting you. Like a rattle snake.

Merlin: Arthur, really, you need to listen to me--

Arthur: I'll even do it with you!

Merlin: Arthur, really...Wait what?

Arthur: I'll do it with you! To show you how not dangerous it is! You have no reason to be scared of learning it, Merlin. It'll be easy.

Merlin: ...You're going to try to learn magic?

Arthur: Yes. How hard could it be. You're going to learn it.

Merlin, crossing his arms: Okay, then. I'd like to see this. Let's see you do magic, Once And Future Prat, Mr. Magic King

Arthur, smug at getting Merlin to agree: Good. Our first lesson starts now.

They both look to Wallace. Arthur happy, Merlin raising a judgmental eyebrow. Wallace starts with the history of magic and the theories behind using it. They don't get to the actually magic using part of the lesson day. Wallace does give them both some texts to study.

Their next lesson does get to the magic part.

Wallace: You want to really feel into the magic of the world around you. Feel the earth. Feel the connection you have to that earth. Feel the power that runs through it.

Merlin's enjoying it, letting the magic wash over him, and also peeking at Arthur who seems to be struggling with it. When asked, Merlin says he doesn't feel anything either. He wants to keep watching Arthur struggle.

Their next lesson, Wallace tries to teach them some basic spells. Lighting a candle. Moving a small object. Merlin laughs at all of Arthur's attempts.

Arthur: Well let's see you do better, Merlin!

Merlin just keeps laughing.

Their lessons keep getting interrupted by this or that. Merlin also has a very busy job. One would think that he'd have less work now that magic was legalized, but no. Now he just has more magic beasts roaming the lands, and people freaking out and attacking those magic beasts, leading to fights and stuff. He's always having to slip away to resolve the matter. He has gotten very good at calming dangerous magic beasts and relocating them. But, relocating takes longer than just killing, so he's still just as busy and gone just as much as he was when dealing with vengeful sorcerers.

Every single start of magic lesson:

Wallace: Did you do the homework I assigned?

Arthur, proud: Yes, I did. I did all the reading, but I did have some trouble with the spellwork.

Merlin, who was up all night settling a griffin family into a new nest on a tall mountain: Uh. No. Didn't have time.

Arthur: Merlin, this is your lesson!

Eventually, Merlin has his fill of watching Arthur struggling with magic, and decides that this time is better spent doing other things. So, during one of the lesson, when Wallace tells them to make the flower bloom, without looking up from the report he's going over, he waves his hand and his pot explodes with the force of plants that grow out of it instantly.

Wallace: ...

Arthur: ...

[millers-girl]

where it hurts

chapter 4 of willow & whiskey

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: an injury, an apology, and a lesson in survival bring you and Joel closer – and remind you what's at stake.

warnings/tags: age gap, adult language, blood and violence, death

word count: 6.5k

series masterlist

Somewhere in western Pennsylvania, Joel stopped the truck at a gas station. You were running out of gas, meaning he’d have to get lucky and siphon fuel from other cars – if there were any who still had some left.

As he worked, with Ellie keeping him company, you remained in the passenger seat of the stationary truck, feet up on the dash, head buried in The Two Towers. 

Save for Ellie and Joel’s conversation, the world outside was quiet. Only the occasional chirp of a bird or the distant rustling of leaves interrupted your silence.

With the windows down, you heard Ellie ask, "So, how does it work?" 

Joel, kneeling on the ground with a tube in hand, answered, "It's a siphon. It's when liquid – travels against gravity – because pressure – umm – "

Ellie was already on the verge of giggling. "You don't know," she accused. 

"I know it works."

You smirked behind the book, flipping to the next page nonchalantly as you cleared up, "It creates a vacuum in the tube so liquid draws up from the car and gravity pushes it down into the red container Joel's holding.” 

Ellie hummed, nodding along before quickly growing bored with the conversation altogether. She stalked toward the tree line. 

"No wandering," you and Joel said at the same time, both your heads snapping to lock eyes with each other. You swallowed, looking away first. 

"Okay," Ellie said, leaning against the back door of the car and pulling a book out of her pack. "This is both your faults then." She flipped to a random page. "It doesn't matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery." She laughed to herself while you got out of the car. "No Pun Intended, Volume Too by Will Livingston. Volume Too. Look. You get it?" 

"Jesus," Joel mumbled, shaking his head.

Feeling the stiffness in your muscles from sitting too long, you shut your book and got out of the car, stretching your arms above your head before walking over to Joel.

"Need any help?" You asked, leaning against the car he was siphoning gas from.

You weren’t really sure how to approach your conversations with him anymore. The tension had been uncomfortable between you since Bill’s town. He’d crossed a line and hadn’t apologized––not really––but he had given you that book, the one now resting on the hood of the car, as some sort of peace offering.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. Still, the silence between you both stretched too often, the weight of what was said heavy. 

Joel shook his head at your offer, sucking on the end of the tube until gas started pouring out into the red container. His eyes flicked up to yours as he did it, and you bit your lip, fighting the instinct to mutter something inappropriate. Okay, you pick – you want the comment about sucking something while making eye contact with me, or about being on your knees in front of me?

Before, you might've said it, testing the waters, seeing him fluster. Now, you weren’t sure if that door was still open. The space between you felt fragile, like one wrong move would shatter it entirely.

As if sensing the strain, Ellie continued with her jokes until Joel gave her a reaction. "I stayed up all night, wondering where the sun went – “

"No," Joel begged. 

Triumphant, Ellie finished anyway. "Then it dawned on me."

You chuckled as Joel turned to Ellie with exasperation. "Feel free to wait in the truck."

"Ugh, okay," Ellie groaned, conceding. "But, just know – you can't escape Will Livingston. He'll be back... there's nothing you can do to stop him."

She climbed into the truck, and you started to follow until Joel’s voice stopped you, surprising both you and him. "What part of the book you on?" he asked, quieter than you expected.

You turned back, brows furrowed. This was how he wanted to break the tension?

"What? It can't be worse than that joke book."

“It’s not,” you confirmed, though your voice still carried a hint of strain. You tried to keep it lighter. “It’s just…”

"Just what?"

You hesitated, then let it go. If he wasn’t ready to talk about things, you wouldn’t push it.

"Why is it so slow?" You huffed, flipping the book in your hands. "No, seriously. I mean, I flew through the first one. Now, it's taking forever to get through Frodo and Sam's journey to Mordor."

Joel rolled his eyes. "Patience is a virtue. You gotta get through the boring stuff to appreciate the good stuff."

You scoffed. "And why is there no action? The first book was full of it, and now – “

"Not everything in life is fast-paced," Joel said, his voice softer now. "Some things take time. You gotta peel back the layers – doesn't make ‘em any less worth it."

Your breathing hitched, eyes locked onto his. As a chronic overthinker, you couldn’t decide if he was saying that with a double meaning or just as a throwaway comment? Surely, the former. Surely, he was talking about himself – trying to apologize without apologizing again – saying he had a lot of walls up, layers that needed peeling back. And that you were doing it, slowly but surely. And it would be worth it.

You couldn’t tell – but it gave you a little hope.

And that was why you ripped the band-aid off, cocked your head to the side, and joked, "Are you trying to give me life advice? Or get in my pants?"

Joel choked on his water, coughing into his fist. "What?"

"Some things in life are worth the effort," you echoed his words, lowering your voice to mimic him. "Like what, Joel? Are you teasing?"

"I could've meant anything when I said that," Joel retorted, attempting to regain his composure.

You crossed your arms, smirking. "But you didn't."

"You're real forward, you know that?" he deflected. 

“And you're avoiding the question."

Before you could press further, Joel turned back to look at Ellie in the backseat of the truck. "We should get movin’. It's getting late, and we got a long drive ahead."

You sighed, disappointment flickering across your face. For the first time in days, a conversation between you two had felt easy. And just like that, it was over.

Clearing your throat, you muttered, “Right – got a schedule to keep.” 

Joel could hear the shift in your voice, so he cleared his throat too, picking your book off the hood of the car to hand it to you. "Keep readin’. You're almost to the good part."

You took it from him, fingers grazing his. He pulled away quickly, but the warmth lingered.

Climbing into the truck, you stretched your feet up onto the dash. When Joel began to drive again, he tapped your leg once. When you ignored it, he reached over and grasped your ankle, gently pulling it down.

You frowned, making him say, "S’dangerous. What if we crash and the airbags go off? You could get injured."

You rolled your eyes, cheeks flushing. "You have so little faith in your driving skills, old man." Still, you kept your feet off the dash.

When Joel had turned onto the highway and you shifted your eyes down to your book, Ellie’s head popped up in the space between you two. 

"I got something," she announced, holding a cassette tape out. "This make you all nostalgic?" She turned to Joel with a grin.

Joel took the tape from her, glancing at it before stating, "This is actually before my time. It's a winner, though,” He popped the tape into the slot. A moment later, the car filled with music, the static-crackled notes settling over the three of you.

"Got something else," Ellie announced. You could hear her flipping through pages in the back. "It's, uh... light on the reading, but it's got some interesting pictures."

You turned back, eyebrows raised, just in time to see her holding up a porn magazine. Joel caught it in the rear-view mirror at the same time, his entire body stiffening.

Your reaction was immediate. Laughter burst from your chest, bubbling up uncontrollably until tears pricked the corners of your eyes. Joel meanwhile, remained panicked, yet firmly put on his ‘parent voice.’

"Oh. No, no, no. Put that back. That's not for kids. Ellie."

His eyes darted between the road, you, and the rear-view mirror. Wiping a tear away, you simply giggled, “It’s sex ed.” 

“It’s not,” Joel countered, exasperated.

"How would he even walk around with that thing?" Ellie gaped at the photo in front of her.

"Please get rid of it," Joel begged, visibly mortified.

Ellie sighed dramatically. "Hold your horses. I wanna see what all the fuss is about."

Joel turned to you, desperation laced in his voice. "Can you…?”

You huffed, facing forward but holding your hand out for Ellie to hand the magazine over. "Why are all these pages stuck together?" Ellie asked, before shoving the magazine into your grasp. 

You barely had a second to process the words before you recoiled, dropping the magazine like it had burst into flames.

"Ew, Ellie! What the fuck?!" you yelped, wiping your hand on the nearest fabric available – unfortunately, Joel’s jacket.

Joel turned to you with a disgusted look on his face and you both glanced at Ellie. "I'm just fuckin' with ya," she cackled, tossing the magazine out the window. “Bye-bye, dude.” 

Joel made dinner that night, warming canned pasta over a small flame. Ellie scarfed it down.

"Slow down," Joel tried.

"This is slow," she mumbled, mouth full of food. "What am I even eating?"

"That is twenty-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli."

"That guy was good," Ellie complimented.

"I actually agree," Joel said, making you softly smile. Even if your relationship with him was somewhat strained, you still liked seeing him get along with Ellie. 

Your eyes shifted to the girl in question, whose mood suddenly changed. She’d gone quiet, stirring her food idly. "What's on your mind, love?"

"How long are we staying out here?" she asked.

You turned to Joel. "I figure I sleep tonight... and drive tomorrow all day, all night, get us to Wyoming by next mornin'."

"Why don't you teach me how to drive tomorrow?" you suggested. "We can split the driving."

Joel gave you a flat look. "You don't know how to drive?"

"Must've missed driving lessons in the middle of the world ending."

“Alright, smartass,” he muttered.

Ellie pulled her jacket tighter around her. "Can we start a fire? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?" Joel asked. His tone caught your attention because it was the first time he'd used it with Ellie. It wasn't bad; he just sounded like a dad scolding his kid. 

"Because Infected will see the smoke," Ellie droned, as if she already knew the answer.

Joel shook his head. "No, Fungus ain’t that smart. This is too remote for Infected, anyway."

"People?" Ellie asked, Joel nodded, jaw tight. "So what are they gonna do? Rob us?"

"Oh, they'll have way more in mind than that." 

The way he said it made your stomach twist. Ellie stiffened slightly, and without thinking, you nudged Joel in the side. He shot you a look, rubbing his ribs. 

You knew that comment would stick with Ellie. 

Later that night, you felt Ellie shift beside you in the sleeping bag, restless. "Joel."

"What?"

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Yeah."

"Why did the scarecrow get an award?" 

Joel waited a moment. "Because he was outstanding in his field."

Ellie's laughter filled the air around them. "You dick! Did you read this?"

"No." He turned back around. "Now go to sleep."

She then nudged you, whispering, "Hey... those people Joel mentioned... there's no way anyone knows we're here, right? No one's gonna find us?" 

You ran your fingers through her hair, voice soft. "No one's gonna find us."

She sighed, curling deeper into the shared warmth. "Okay."

You should have fallen asleep easily after that, but something gnawed at your gut. Hours passed, and when you blinked awake, a shadowed figure stood a few feet away.

Your breath hitch, heart hammering – until you saw the familiar shape of his shoulders, the familiar line of his stance.

Joel.

He was standing watch. 

Because of Ellie's comment.

You exhaled, tension unraveling from your limbs. Carefully, you slipped out of the sleeping bag, grabbed an extra blanket from the car, and made your way over to him.

“Busted,” you softly teased, grin wide as you plopped down against a tree nearby, draping the blanket over yourself. “How long you been up?” 

He huffed quietly, making his way over to sit next to you under the blanket. “Never fell asleep.” 

“You’re turning into a softie,” you accused. He didn’t deny it. “You want to get some sleep? I can take over.” 

He shook his head. “Naw, I’m good.” 

You silently nodded, but didn’t move, and Joel seemed to understand what that meant. This was you extending an olive branch, giving him the time and space to apologize for what he’d said back at Bill’s town, how he’d treated you. 

A long pause stretched between you before he finally cleared his throat. “Listen, I uh… Back at Bill’s… I shouldn’t have said what I did.” 

And, even though you’d given him the space to fill the silence with an apology, you suddenly found yourself unable to meet his eyes. “Which part?” You quietly asked, pulling at the weeds by your feet and staring ahead at the fire. 

“All of it.” 

Another silence. As far as apologies went, it was pretty shit – even Joel knew.

He forced himself to continue, as uncomfortable as it clearly made him. “I was pissed… Not at you, but I took it out on you anyway. Wasn’t right of me.” 

You swallowed, finding the strength to meet his eyes. “Did you mean it?” 

He frowned. “What?” 

“That my grief is useless,” you said simply, watching his reaction. “That I’m not doing anything with it.” 

He shut his eyes for a moment, silently berating himself for speaking such cruel words to you in the first place. “I didn’t mean it like that… I used to think… I used to think grief was somethin’ you had to carry, hold on to, or it meant you didn’t care.” He swallowed, eyes flickering toward Ellie’s sleeping form before coming back to you. “I was wrong.”

The admission hung between you two, heavier than anything else he’d said.

Your gaze softened. “I’m trying,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “I just don’t know what to do with all of it – I mean, I don’t – Nate would’ve – ” You cut yourself off quickly, realizing you’d let his name slip.

Joel studied you, watching how you froze for a second. And then, in a quiet movement, he reached out. It wasn’t much – the briefest of touches, the backs of his fingers grazing your wrist where your hand rested against your knee. But it was enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

His touch lingered, hesitant. Testing.

You could feel the calluses on his fingers, the warmth of his skin.

Your throat tightened, but he didn’t pull away. “I got no right tellin’ you what you should and shouldn’t do with your feelings,” he said, voice low, rough. “But I… I don’t want you carryin’ it alone. S’not fair.” 

Your chest ached at that. Slowly, carefully, you turned your hand over, letting your fingers brush against his. 

His breath hitched, just barely.

Before you could overthink it, you blurted, “Nate took care of Ellie and I in the QZ. He used to be a guard, but even so, we barely made ends meet… He used to get into these underground boxing fights to get some extra ration cards so we could eat. I told him it was dumb; we’d get them another way, but… he was stubborn.” You chuckled quietly. “I miss that about him.

“He wouldn’t let me go to those fights – said it wasn’t safe… And, one night he went, and he didn’t come back. And all the other guards got rid of his ID, the stuff in his locker, his uniform… like he never existed. They never spoke about him again… I filled in the blanks myself.”

After a beat of silence, Joel spoke up. “Nate,” he tried the name out on his tongue.

“Nathan,” you corrected, with a hint of a smile. “I was the only one he ever let call him that.” After a moment, you concluded. “Nathan. That’s the name behind my grief.” 

Joel met your eyes, feeling his words escaping past his lips before he could try to wrangle them in. “Sarah,” he said in a voice softer than you’d ever heard it, speaking her name for the first time in a long time. “That’s the name behind mine.” 

He didn’t say anything more; he wasn’t ready to. And that was alright by you.

For the first time, you let yourself lean into the proceeding quiet between you, into the way his presence steadied something in you.

And when his fingers finally curled around yours––warm, steady, solid––you let him.

The next day, Joel was slurping coffee like a man starved for it. And only you knew why. Because, with every sip he took, you felt the same bone-deep exhaustion he did. You’d stayed up all night too. Not because he asked you to, not because he let you take watch. Just because you kept him company, watching the dark stretch of road with him, listening to the quiet hum of the night.

Now, in the daylight, the atmosphere was much lighter. In the car, you kept glancing at Joel, a soft smile ghosting your lips. The weight was finally off your shoulders – you felt relief. 

Hours passed with only light conversation and a Hank Williams cassette to fill the silence, until Ellie asked, “What’s his name?” 

"Whose name, love?" you asked, looking up from your book.

"Joel's brother."

"Tommy," Joel answered. 

"Younger or older?"

"Younger," you answered for him without thinking, your eyes flicking up to meet Joel’s. You tilted your head to the side. "Come on. You so give off older brother energy."

"Why isn't he with you?" 

Joel exhaled through his nose, shifting in his seat. "Tommy's what we used to call a 'joiner.' Dreams of becomin' a hero. So he enlisted in the Army right outta high school. A few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm. Point is, bein' in the Army didn't make him feel much like a hero. Cut to 12 years later, outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group makin' their way up to Boston, which I did... mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive.

"It's where we met Tess. And that whole crew, we, uh... Well, for what it was, it worked. And then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joinin' the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was 18. Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him, Fireflies, all of 'em... delusional. 'Course last I heard, he quit the Fireflies, too. So now he's on his own out there, and... I gotta go get him."

After a beat of silence, Ellie asked what you were thinking. "If you don't think there's hope for the world, why bother going on? I mean, you gotta try, right?"

"You haven't seen the world, so you don't know. You keep goin' for family. That's about it." 

"I'm not family," Ellie said quietly.

"No... you're cargo. And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family."

You rolled your eyes at that comment. You knew he didn’t mean it, not really. You could see it, even if he couldn’t. He was starting to look at Ellie differently, starting to protect her like something precious. She wasn’t cargo – he just didn’t know it yet.

So, instead of snapping at him, you turned to Ellie, grabbing hold of her hand and squeezing. “You’re my family. That’s all that matters.” 

You said it simply, with no resentment or sarcasm towards Joel. Ellie looked at you, eyes flickering with love and gratitude before she squeezed back.

An hour later, she was fast asleep in the back, making soft snoring sounds that were music to your ears. And, in the front, Joel was keenly aware of you curled up in a ball on your side of the seat. 

"Look, what I said – "

You were already shaking your head. “I think one apology is enough for today,” you said considerately. “Besides, it’s not like you mean it.” 

His brows furrowed. “What are you talkin’ about?” 

You merely shrugged. “You don’t stay up on lookout all night for someone who’s just ‘cargo.’” 

And, to that, he didn’t have a comeback.

You didn’t need to look at him to know he was chewing on your words, turning them over in that head of his.

The quiet stretched until he hit a road bump – a pileup of cars blocking off the rest of the highway. 

You finally glanced up from your book, frowning. “Where are we?” 

“Kansas City.” Joel sighed, eyes glued to the road. “Can you hand me the map, darlin’?”

You froze for half a second before handing him the map.

Darlin’. 

It was the first time he’d ever called you that. It made you feel warm; your fingers tingled, like they wanted to reach out and take his –

“Screw it,” Joel cut off your thoughts. “We can jog around this tunnel, take the next ramp, and we’re back on the road. Minute tops.” 

You swallowed, pushing whatever that was down, and turned to wake Ellie, knowing she’d want to see the city, even if it was just a glimpse. 

What was meant to be “a minute tops” ended up being much longer. Joel got turned around, and you were no help with the map.

“I don’t know where we are,” you sighed in defeat. 

Joel glanced at the map in your lap. “Don’t look at the state map. Turn it over to the inset.” 

“Ellie’s better at this,” you argued before handing the map to the teenager in the back, hoping she could make sense of it. 

“This is my second day in a fucking car, man,” she defended. 

As they bickered, and Joel kept driving north––eyes constantly shifting between Ellie, the map, and the road––you felt it before you saw him. 

A shift in the air. A sickly dread curled in your stomach, cold and sharp.

Your eyes remained glued to the figure stumbling onto the road.

“Joel,” you tugged at his sleeve, pulse spiking. “Joel!” 

He looked up just in time to see the man clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers, staggering towards the car.

“Hey!” he cried, voice raw with pain. “Please help!”

Your stomach twisted.

Without taking his eyes off the man, Joel said, “Seatbelts. Now.”

You were already halfway through the motion, hands shaking slightly. You knew what was coming next.

“Aren’t we gonna help him? Ellie asked, voice lined with uncertainty.

“No,” you and Joel said in unison.

Your grip tightened on the dashboard as Joel slammed his foot on the gas.

The man barely had time to dive out of the way before something crashed onto the windshield from above, shattering glass in a spiderweb of cracks. Your heart lurched as the tires then hit a spike strip, the car jerking violently as they deflated.

A second figure appeared from around the corner.

Joel cursed under his breath, yanking the wheel hard. You barely had time to brace before the car crashed straight through a storefront window.

The impact sent shockwaves through your body; the air felt knocked out of you. 

When the car stopped, Joel immediately turned to you. “Are you okay?” You nodded, swallowing hard. Your hands trembled, reaching for his arm as he turned back to Ellie. “You’re not hurt? Nothin’?” 

“I don’t think so,” Ellie answered, just before gunshots rang through the air, aiming at the car. It made all three of you flinch, ducking down before quickly undoing your belts and exiting the car in a crouch.

Joel crouched between you and Ellie, rifle in hand as more gunshots rang through the air. The smell of gunpowder and dust clogged your nostrils, mixing with the metallic tang of your fight or flight response on your tongue.

“Hey,” Joel said, voice low but firm, grabbing your and Ellie’s attention. “You see that hole?” He was referring to one on the adjacent wall, leading through to another room. “Can you squeeze through?” He asked you, knowing Ellie would fit. 

Your breath hitched. “What?” You squeaked. “I’m not leaving you.” Your fingers dug into your pack, pulling out your gun as if that alone would prove your point. 

Joel barely spared it a glance. “When I say go, you two crawl to that wall and squeeze through. You don’t come out until I say, okay?” 

You sighed in frustration as Ellie nodded along, head shifting nervously toward the sound of bullets. “They’re not gonna hit you, love,” you promised, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Now, can you do as Joel says?” 

Joel turned to you, ready to argue, but you shook your head, pushing closer to him. “I’m not leaving you. Now, are we gonna protect Ellie and get out of this, or you wanna keep arguing?” 

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Instead, he turned to Ellie. “You stay down. You stay low. You stay quiet.” 

Ellie nodded, clearly still nervous. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” Joel echoed. He turned to you, eyes lingering like he was memorizing your face. Then, a sharp nod. “Go!” 

You didn’t wait to see Ellie get to the hole – you had faith in her abilities. Instead, you and Joel both rose from behind the truck bed, guns aimed at the hostiles, and began firing.

Later, you retreated behind a toppled shelf, breath coming in short gasps as you reloaded. Only one hostile left.

When Joel took him down, you both waited a moment. Silence. 

Then, when it was seemingly safe and Joel was fixing the jam in his gun, another body came hurtling through the back exit of the store, crashing into yours and sending you sprawled onto the cold concrete.

Your head smacked against the ground, and for a moment, everything blurred – the world narrowing into muffled noise and a high-pitched ringing. 

Through your haze, you saw Joel pinned beneath the attacker, and your pulse roared to life. You scrambled to your feet, but before you could act, the sharp crack of a gunshot split the air.

Ellie stood a few feet away, arms locked, hands gripping a gun. 

The man collapsed on top of Joel. 

Joel shoved the body off of him, coughing and wheezing to catch his breath. You crouched down beside him, helping him sit up.

The man, now on his back, pressed a trembling and to his spine, pulling it away to see blood. His expression shifted from pain to shock to fear.

He looked up and met Ellie’s eyes past the barrel of her gun. “No, no, no. It’s okay,” he said, voice shaking. “It’s over. We’re not fighting anymore… I’ll go home and tell everyone you’re good.” A sob tore through him. “I don’t know what to do.” 

You glanced down at Joel, sharing a silent, weighted look, before helping him up. His fingers curled around your forearm, grounding himself – or maybe grounding you.

“My legs don’t work,” the man wheezed. “My mom isn’t far, if you could get me to her… We could trade with you guys.” 

A lump formed in your throat. The desperation in his voice clawed at something deep inside you, something you tried not to acknowledge. He was just a kid. Just a scared kid.

Beside you, Joel exhaled sharply, eyes flicking over you. 

“We could be friends,” the man begged. “I didn’t know. I’m Bryan – I’m Bryan. What’s your name? Are you guys sisters?” His gaze darted between you and Ellie.

Your breath stuttered. You turned away, unable to look at him, unable to look at Ellie as tears brimmed your waterline.

From beside you, Joel’s voice came low, firm. “Get back behind the wall.” 

Ellie hesitated, eyes shifting to you. You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking. A hand covered your mouth, holding in any sound that threatened to slip free.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry – I’m sorry. Please, please – we could just talk. Please, please. No, no no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” 

Over his shouts, Joel turned to you, voice barely audible. “You too, baby.”

You flinched. He wanted you to go too. To look away.

You bit your bottom lip, wiping away the tears as your grip on his jacket sleeve tightened. “I’m not leaving you,” you whispered.

It wasn’t fair to let him carry this alone. It seemed like he always did. And he always would if you let him.

Joel held your gaze, reading into everything you weren’t saying. He exhaled, nodding once.

The man sobbed, calling for his mother.

You pressed your forehead against Joel’s shoulder, eyes squeezing shut. His warmth seeped through his jacket, grounding you in the chaos and reality of the moment.

Joel raised his gun. The shot echoed in the small space, final and unforgiving.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. 

Then, he turned to you, thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. His touch was fleeting, like he wasn’t sure if he should do it. 

Then, he called out to Ellie, who cleared up the doorway for you two to enter the room she was currently in.

She caught you staring at her––not just you, Joel too––and shrugged off the looks.

“I’m okay,” she said quickly, grabbing her pack off the floor. “I’m good.” She cleared her throat. “What now?” 

While you observed her, Joel answered. “We go up. Hopefully, we can spot a clear route out.” 

You reached for Ellie, a steady hand on her shoulder. She leaned into it for just a second before pulling away.

With one last glance at the wall, behind which the man’s lifeless body now laid, you followed Joel out.

And didn’t look back.

“Are we okay in here?” Ellie asked as the three of you holed up in some abandoned bar. The windows were boarded up with wooden planks and old, yellowed newspapers, their edges curling with age. Dust hung in the air, catching the slivers of light that managed to slip through the cracks.

“For now,” Joel answered before shaking his head. “But they’ll be comin’ through here soon enough.”

The shootout in the store had turned the entire resistance group in Pittsburgh against you. That explained why you hadn’t seen any FEDRA officers or a QZ – just a lawless city now teeming with people hunting you down.

Ellie had spotted a skyscraper a few blocks away. The plan was to wait until the patrols moved further out before making a break for it.

For now, you all settled in as best you could. Joel took a seat at the bar, his posture heavy with exhaustion, while you and Ellie slid to the floor, leaning against the barricaded windows. The wood was rough against your back, but it was better than nothing.

You winced as soon as your head rested against the panes, a sharp sting radiating from your scalp. 

“You okay?” Ellie asked as you reached a tentative hand to your scalp and pulled it back to see your fingers sticky with blood.

As soon as Joel saw, he was kneeling in front of you, brows furrowed deep as he assessed the wound. 

“I’ll be fine,” you murmured, trying to brush off the concern. “Just a cut on my scalp. It’ll stop bleeding if I put some pressure on it.” 

Joel didn’t say anything, just got up and disappeared behind the bar, rummaging through whatever he could find. When he returned, he pressed a makeshift rag––as clean as he could find––firmly against the back of your head. His other hand was gently against your forehead, counterbalancing the force.

Even as he took such good care of you, he wouldn’t meet your eyes. 

You frowned. “What’s wrong?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Thing is… I didn’t hear that guy comin’... and if I did, you wouldn’t be bleedin’ and Ellie – “ He looked over at her, his expression pinched with guilt. “You wouldn’t have had to… you shouldn’t have had to… you know.” 

Your stomach twisted as you followed his gaze. Ellie sat stiff, her fingers anxiously picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. You reached up, gently pulling Joel’s hand away so you could shift your focus to Ellie. Running a soothing hand through her hair, you spoke for him.

“I think what Joel means is… you’re only fourteen, love. You shouldn’t know what it means to have to make that decision.”

Joel swallowed hard and nodded. “It was my fault. You shouldn’t’ve had to… and I’m sorry.” 

Ellie’s breath hitched, her fingers curling into fists as she furiously wiped at her eyes. It wasn’t enough. You reached out and pulled her into your arms, pressing a soft kiss to her head as she clung to you. Her shoulders trembled against you, silent tears soaking into your shirt.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, your hand moving up and down her back in slow, steady strokes. “You’re okay now. You’re safe. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” 

You wished you could undo it. Wished you could take back her shot, take away the weight of what she had to do. But, the truth was, you couldn’t shield her from everything. You could only teach her how to survive it. 

You met Joel’s gaze over the top of Ellie’s head, your voice quiet but firm. “Can I have her gun?” 

He silently reached into the back of his jeans, pulling out the gun and handing it over to you. You unloaded the magazine and emptied the chamber before offering it to Ellie.

“Show me your grip,” you said gently.

Ellie adjusted her hold, her fingers wrapping around the handle.

The way she held it had Joel nearly scoffing. “Now, who taught you that?” 

“FEDRA school.” 

“Figures.” He reached over to correct her grip. “There you go. Now, look it.”

He went to snatch the gun from her, but Ellie tightened her grip, holding firm. Joel shook the gun lightly, testing her hold, but she didn’t let go. It made her giggle, and you found yourself smiling, storing away the rare lighthearted moment like a mental picture.

“Okay?” Joel asked, making Ellie beam and nod.

He loaded the gun and glanced your way––you nodded in silent agreement––before offering it back to Ellie, grip first.

“It’s only for emergencies,” you told her, watching as she started to tuck it into the waistband of her pants like Joel did.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel cut in, shaking his head. “You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.” 

Ellie snorted. You laughed. The sound felt foreign but welcomed nonetheless in the middle of your current predicament.

When it was time to move, and Ellie went to tuck the gun into her bag, you helped Joel pull the barricades from the door. As you lifted one of the heavier planks, you let your fingers brush over his, squeezing gently in silent thanks.

He met your gaze. “We’ll get through this,” he promised. 

You nodded, believing him. “I know.” 

With Ellie between you, the three of you slipped out into the daylight, heading for the skyscraper. .

Climbing up thirty-three flights of stairs was brutal, even for you and Ellie. It hit Joel harder, making him feel his age by the time you reached your destination. As soon as you hit the landing, he dropped onto the floor with a groan. 

Ellie nudged his boot. “Come on. Get up, you lazy ass.” 

Joel scoffed. “Lazy ass?” He pushed himself up with a dramatic grunt. “Fifty-six years old, you little shit.”

You and Ellie giggled, setting up your makeshift beds. In no time, you had them set up – piles of cushions lined up, Ellie’s the furthest from the door, Joel’s the closest, and yours in between.

“I could sleep for five years,” Ellie yawned, sprawling out onto the cushions as her eyes fluttered shut. “Good night.” 

“Yeah, good night,” Joel grumbled from your other side, settling into his bed.

Having used your hoodie for a pillow, you stared up at Joel, meeting his gaze with big, expectant eyes. He took one look and sighed, shrugging his jacket off and tossing it over you. You grinned and pulled it close. 

When he laid on his side, facing you, you frowned and pulled his cushions closer to yours. “What’re you doin’?” He whispered, watching you tug your makeshift pillow between you two, wordlessly offering him the other end. 

After a beat, he shuffled closer, resting his head on the hoodie. You pulled up the extra fabric of his jacket, covering him as well. Then, you settled again, eyes shutting as your breathing began to even out.

He could feel it on his neck, and he wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d get if continued – it was all he could think about.

“Joel,” Ellie whispered, cutting through the silence of the night. He hummed, acknowledging her. “Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?” 

Joel lifted his head up off your hoodie to look at her. “What?” 

He glanced down to see a smile forming at your lips, though your eyes remained shut.

“Yeah,” Ellie continued quietly before snickering. “It runs in your jeans.” 

He pressed his head back down to your hoodie, mumbling, “Jesus,” into it before he began laughing quietly, joining Ellie. “That is so goddamn stupid.” 

Ellie giggled again from your other side. “You laughed, motherfucker.” 

“I didn’t laugh,” he denied. 

“Yes, you did.” 

You peeked an eye open. “You did,” you mumbled with a smile of your own, finding yourself shuffling closer to him. 

“Jesus, I’m losin’ it,” he muttered, barely audible.

“Big time,” you mumbled practically against his chest at this point. 

And for the first time in a long time, you slept soundly. Until Ellie’s voice cut through the silence once more, tensely calling out to you and Joel.

Your eyes snapped open, body tensing at her tone. You immediately sat up, your movement waking Joel, whose body was pressed against yours in sleep. 

You barely had a second to process before you saw it – Ellie, hands up, a gun pointed at her head.

Your eyes moved up the hand holding the gun and settled upon a familiar face.

“Henry?”

.

.

.

taglist: @orcasoul @lizlil@littleshadow17 @joeldjarin @mrsyixingunicorn10 @luvwanda @escaping-reality8 @hoddystark @mmkkzz @victoriaholland @xodilfluvr @mystickittytaco @21tao

[radioactive-yuri]

rewatching svs redux, and i'm still going insane overanalyzing janus telling the others his name. more specifically right afterwards, when roman makes fun of him and he immediately bites back with an incredibly low blow. it's honestly very indicative of what he's like as a character; constantly on guard, ready to show his teeth at every indication of a threat. it also kind of goes into my idea of him and virgil as foils; both cautious, both protective of themselves and what they perceive as their weak spots, but the way they defend themselves is so different. virgil does it by never opening up at all, janus does it by opening up like a trap.

when virgil opens up, he's already off his guard, he won't do it unless he trusts the situation completely. i don't think janus has ever trusted any situation completely. so instead of opening up when he feels it's safe to do so, he opens up when he knows it's unsafe to do so, he's just constantly prepared for the eventual worst outcome. he had that honestly pretty cruel comeback locked and loaded, ready from the start, because he knew roman would take advantage if he showed any vulnerability. that's what i mean when i say that he opens himself up like a trap; his weakness can't be exploited if he's always on guard. ready to fight back, even when there are no weapons in sight.

virgil's emotional walls can be brought down. when he feels affection, safety, comfort, he lets his guard down. janus could feel all of those things, and still be prepared to bite back at a moment's notice. and i think that also fits into their respective roles: anxiety gone too far means expecting cruelty at every turn. self-preservation gone too far means preparing for cruelty at every turn.

and, just like what happened in that scene, janus being constantly on guard means that no matter how vulnerable he gets, no matter how much he opens up, he can always take all of it back if it goes wrong. the trap closes like this: "you can't hurt me; i've prepared for every situation in which you might."

this is a carnivorous animal bearing its fangs at its perceived assailant, a fox raised in the woods doesn't understand the difference between a teasing poke and a fist ready to reel back. it'll bite you anyways. just don't poke the fucking fox. its scared, and its teeth are sharp.

[suiana]

Yandere british policeman but its just this https://pin.it/713T0xSDg

(yandere! british policeman x gn! reader) (idk why you want a british man in particular but you know what it's fine) (it could've been worse, like a french man /j)

"right love, gonna need you to open the door and talk to me."

you merely stare at this... random ass man through your peephole. who the hell does this guy think he is? this is the fourth day in a row that he's showed up at your doorstep! for four days, he's delibrately taken time out of his day to show up in front of your door!

hell, he's been following you since way before! trying to pull you over on the road, yelling something about 'pulling over' or telling you to 'freeze'... you suspect it's been about a few months since this random man started showing up in your life like a damn pest.

who the hell even does that?

"go away!"

yeah nah, you're not going to let him in. no way in HELL. plus, he always shows up wearing that same weird outfit! when you first confronted him, he said he was some sort of... officer? and that what he was wearing was a uniform?

hah! imagine having to wear a uniform. he really is just a young chap playing a prank on you. how annoying, that's why you haven't opened the door for him no matter how long he spends knocking away. let him knock, maybe he'll finally get the hint and leave you alone.

"i'm going to have to break down your door if you don't open it, love. you're a person of interest in a really serious crime, you know. it'll be better if you just cooperate with us."

and there he goes again. again with his rambling and nonsense talk of breaking down your door. does he really think he has the authority to do that? nah, you'll just call the police if he does! they'll deal with him like they should!

in fact, you think you'll call the police now! have this guy arrested for harrassing you non-stop!

"if you don't leave, i'll call the police!"

silence.

"so you're scared huh? i knew it! you're just a loser-"

"darling, i am the police."

and then all of a sudden, your door fails to function properly and just falls to the floor, the hinges unhinging on itself. your jaw drops as you face the tall policeman, your eyes wide. but before you could say anything else, he starts talking about his nonsense police stuff again.

"sweetheart i'm putting you under arrest as the prime suspect of a hit and run. please turn around and put your hands against the wall."

"hey wait just a second! i never hit anybody!"

despite your protests, you couldn't really fight against the guy. not when he completely dwarfed you. not when he had huge hands and big pectoral muscles... and that ass in those tight pants... and just seeing him in his uniform... you wonder what would happen if you smacked his ass...?

but back to the problem. hit and run? bro you don't even drive! how could you be a prime suspect of a hit and run? there was only one answer.

"you're a fraud! no way a guy like you is an actual officer! i demand you let go of me until a real-"

then he pulls out an authentic looking police badge and license. no way, he was real? but... but you didn't commit a hit and run! how could this be happening?! no, no, no! get these unsexy handcuffs off!

"you're coming back with me. gonna have to discipline a criminal like you the hard way. not letting me in for four days? tsk tsk, i am so very disappointed in you, love."

wait a second!

just wait a second!

why the heck was he dragging you into a real police car?! no way! this is some big shit! you can't believe this is happening!

"come on dude! you can't seriously be-"

"yeah, you didn't actually commit any crime. i'm just using it as an excuse to bring you back to my home where i can love and adore you."

HUH????

[mrlucanisdellamorte]

i'm obsessed with Lucanis tender heart Dellamorte deciding the night before what is absolutely going to be the hardest fight of his life (so far) and possibly his last day alive is the perfect moment to make love for the first time ever.

and i say 'make love' and not 'lose his virginity' or 'have sex', because i fully believe that's how he sees it - the concept of virginity likely means nothing to him, has never concerned him, and his feelings for Rook go so far beyond the mechanics or urges for sex. this is THE culmination of all his yearning - to be close to them, to be vulnerable with them, to pour himself and his feelings into them and know without a doubt they'll be there with love and open arms to receive it and give the same to him. this man is SMITTEN.

he knows it's going to be over in a matter of seconds (it is). he knows it'll probably be awkward (it's not, he's shocked by how much it's not). he knows they need to sleep, they'll be putting their bodies through hell soon enough. but none of that matters anymore because he has the love of his goddamn life back, healthy and whole and falling into his arms. they have the rest of their lives (however long that is) to get better at this part. so yeah, he's going to have his three seconds of love making and he's going to soak in an entire night of their company and connection and conversation when they should be sleeping, he's going to greedily take every single moment he can, because he's done denying himself. they love and accept him, and he's starting to love and accept himself, too.

Lucanis Dellamorte, the man that you are.

[calypso-apologist]

could i pls have headcanons of yandere Antinous x princess of Ithaca/daughter of Pen n Ody reader 🙏🙏🙏

antinous oh antinous the things i'd do to you

Yandere!Antinous x Princess of Ithaca!Reader ♡

cw: mdni. nsfw mentions. non-con/dub-con implied. yandere. antinous starter pack: manipulation and questionable consent. murder. pregnancy. non-descriptive birth. i have issues.

The queen was a stubborn wretch, refusing to pick a new king. She believed Odysseus was still out there, that he'd come back. Antinous might not be a chosen of Athena, but he's not a fool, either. He knows she's stalling.

And while other suitors insist on trying to get to Penelope somehow, Antinous figured that there might be an easier way to secure his place in the royal family.

After all, Telemachus wasn't necessarily the only choice for the king. There was also his twin sister. Odysseus never named his heir, so it could be either of the twins.

Or rather, the son or the daughter's husband. So why not become just that?

And while at first it was just about the throne, the more he watched you, the more he followed you around... the more he started to crave you.

The need to possess you was no longer just his desire for just the throne, no... he wanted you.

He wanted the princess of Ithaca to be his. He wanted to tear her dress to shreds, to see her naked body shaking and she whimpered and squirmed under him in bed. He wanted to see pretty tears running down her soft cheeks, maybe even watch her struggle a bit as she tried to keep her dignity at first, before surrendering to him.

And even if she tried to fight, tried to get him to leave... He could simply hold her down, could he not?

But, since she seemed like such a sweet young thing, he decided to play it safe. After all, if she falls for him genuinely, it'll all be so much easier.

Besides, with young, kind souls like hers, it really didn't even take that much effort. Antinous was a charismatic bastard. And the princess was innocent, lacking experience when it came to romance.

Of course, there was hesitance at first, but all it took was a sad little act about how he let himself get lost in his ambition and the young princess immediately looked at him with a more merciful, understanding gaze.

With that, obtaining her friendship and affections was just a matter of time and charm. Say what you want about Antinous, but he could be one charming motherfucker if he so wished.

He didn't even need three months before sneaking into your bedroom at sunset, his words wrapping around your heart and brain like constricting snakes around their victims.

And despite how hesitant the princess was about giving up her precious innocence, she really didn't need much convincing. She loved him, after all, and he loved her. She shouldn't overthink things, she should simply give herself to him, let him ravage her.

Did it really matter that it hurt? It was supposed to, she was a smart girl, she should know that. She should trust him. Love him. He loved her, after all, he kept whispering so into her ears as she sobbed softly, her whole body trembling from the rough yet oddly delicate treatment. It seemed to be something only he could do, to violate her so lovingly.

And of course, he couldn't just stop after the first time, no... He had to visit her each night, fill her up, make sure his seed would take, binding the two of them forever.

Once the pregnancy was confirmed, he was quick to rid the palace of all the other suitors, one by one, before he finally asked Penelope for her daughter's hand in marriage, bringing the shared "love" to attention and saying he even made all the others leave to prove himself.

And even despite how hesitant the queen was, she gave in to how much the princess insisted.

And for the first few months, he seemed like a dream husband, always by his wife's side, helping her through the pregnancy, willing to make every wish come true, not even a flash of irritation on his face despite how ridiculous the princess's whims might've been.

But when the faithful day came, he was late. By the time he finally appeared, the mother of his child was too vulnerable to question the blood on his hands as he cradled her face, offering hushed reassurances before the room was filled with the sound of a newborn baby crying as it was forced to greet the world, torn out of its mother's womb.

The princess only found out why her husband was late and bloody a few days later, as Antinous was crowned king. He used the chaos that surrounded the birth to kill Penelope and Telemachus. Fortunately for him, his precious wife was too far gone in his manipulations to even try to rebel against him. Instead, she remained by his side, forever faithful with his firstborn in her arms.

And she'll have more. His previous little queen.

[cherryredstars]

Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink

A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!

You know there is a process.

And you know this isn't it.

There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.

And yet...

You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.

But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.

You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.

Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.

He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.

You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.

"Got to make sure it takes."

Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?

Part 2 Part 3

[merrinla]

Post-Weisshaupt cut content

Bellara and Taash want to leave the party. Rook convinces them to stay. Varric supports Rook again, remembers Kirkwall, compares Taash to Fenris, and advises to listen less to Solas.

Rook - Bellara

Rook: Heard you were thinking of leaving. Bellara: No! Well. Yes. Maybe.

Bellara: What happened at Weisshaupt... at D'Meta's crossing... Bellara: Even what happened to Minrathous/Treviso? Bellara: Boy. That's... that's a lot. Rook: Weisshaupt was bad, but it would've been a hell of a lot worse if we hadn't been there.

Bellara: The way you lead this team. Focusing on the fight. Always talking about what's next. Bellara: You never stop. And that works-for you, and for most of the others. Bellara: But... I don't know if it works for me.

Option: Doesn't always work for me. Rook: Look, this leadership thing? Being in charge? It doesn't come with a map.

Option: You need to figure it out. Rook: I need your head in this, Bellara. And your heart.

Option: We need it to. Rook: We need you here, and we need you fighting.

Rook: We're fighting gods, Bellara. The only way we win this is to keep them off balance. Rook: We give them time to think, but we've seen what they can do. We can't slow down, not anymore. Rook: Because every time we pause to take a breath? Our enemies gain ground. Rook: But focusing on the fight? That's not a mistake. That's the only way to win. Rook: The fight is what keeps us focused. And it keeps us grounded. Bellara: Even if we're leaving a trail of broken bodies? Rook: I wish I had answers. But I don't.

Bellara: Solas was willing to let thousands of people die. Trading them for the greater good. Bellara: Without hesitation. Because to him, the ends always justify the means. Rook: No. Solas thinks he's the only one who can save the world. Rook: And I chose to save those lives. Even if it cost others. Rook: We've both made hard choices. But that's where the similarities stop. Bellara: The gods are out, Rook. Because of a choice you made. People died. Even if you didn't mean it to happen.

Option: I'm trying to make up for that. Rook: You're right. Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain are out because of a choice I made. Rook: The why matters, too. And Weisshaupt hurt. But we can't let our regrets slow us down. Rook: I don't regret it. It was the right choice, and I'd make it again. Rook: But the scales aren't tipped in my favour right now, so I'm doing anything I can to make up for it.

Rook: And, yeah. Solas would've killed so many more. Bellara: But maybe that's how it started. How he started. Bellara: Weighing lives on a scale. And justifying everything by which side's a little heavier.

Option: I worry about it, too. Rook: You know what haunts me in the night? That you could be right. Rook: I'm going to make mistakes, and I'm going to get things wrong. Rook: I saw what Solas' ritual was doing, the lives it was going to cost, and I acted. And people still died. Rook: And... I still think it was the right choice. I know it was. Rook: Weisshaupt hurt. And it'll always hurt. Rook: The why matters. But "why" doesn't mean shit if you don't back it up with action. Rook: So we never stop pushing. Rook: And now I'm asking you to stick around.

Bellara: But maybe that's the first step. Looking at lives as numbers. Not as people. Bellara: It helps, though. To know you're thinking about these things, too.

Bellara: I don't think Solas would've come here to talk to me. Rook: He might've. Solas loves to talk. Bellara: (Laughs)

Rook: You staying around, then? Bellara: Yeah. I think I am. Bellara: Thanks, Rook.

Bellara: Not the heart-to-heart I was expecting... but maybe the one I needed. Bellara: I think I'll take a walk, but... I'm around. Whenever you need me. Bellara: Just say the word.

Rook - Taash

Rook: Hey, Taash. Taash: What do you want? Shouldn't you be making a list of everyone who's gonna die if we mess up again?

Option: It's a lot of people. Rook: To be fair, it's a pretty big list. Taash: You gonna keep telling jokes while the world gets covered with blight? Rook: Well, I tried talking about how everyone was feeling, and that didn't help. Taash: Of course it didn't help!

Option: Leaving? Really? Rook: You running out on us? Taash: You gonna keep going with all that vashedan about our feelings? Rook: I'm trying to keep this team moving. And we're dead without a dragon hunter. Taash: We're dead either way!

Option: I know you feel bad. Rook: Taash, I know you're not feeling great right now... Taash: (Growls) It doesn't matter! Rook: Of course how you feel matters. Taash: No! It doesn't!

Taash: Ghilan'nain's Archdemon turned from a dragon into some horrible monster. Taash: The blighted dragons you brought me here to fight might do the same thing. Taash: And you're just telling me how important it is instead of giving me what I need to do it!

Option: The team needed this. Rook: I was trying to get the whole team to pull together. Taash: We're already together! We don't need to braid each other's hair to kill darkspawn!

Option: Bellara needed support. Rook: Bellara was in rough shape. She needed support right then and there. Taash: I need to know what I'm fighting and how to kill it! But we're wasting time talking feelings instead! That doesn't help anyone! Rook: It helped Bellara. Taash: It didn't help me!

Option: We're all hurting. Rook: Nobody came out of Weisshaupt feeling good, Taash. Rook: Davrin watched a lot of Wardens die. Lucanis is beating himself up for missing his shot. Taash: (Scoffs) They're fine. Davrin just needs to punch some darkspawn. Lucanis will get Ghilan'nain next time.

Taash: I don't know darkspawn. Or Venatori. All I know are dragons. If they've been changed... Rook: You don't have to know darkspawn. That's what Davrin is for. Lucanis and Neve are here for Venatori. Taash: At least they got their shot! At least they know what they're dealing with!

Rook: I don't think they see it that way. Rook: You help them, and we'll get whatever you need to handle these dragons.

Taash: I just... I don't want another Weisshaupt. Rook: Me neither.

Taash: We need to do better. I need to do better.

Option: I will get what you need. Rook: Taash, I promise you, we'll get you whatever you need to take down these dragons. Taash: Hey. I'll let you know what I need.

Option: I'm sorry. I messed up. Rook: (Sighs) Listen, Taash, I'm sorry. I'm still figuring out how to lead this team. Taash: Hey. Coming and apologizing is good leader crap.

Taash: You needed me to let you know I'd be there to help, and I didn't do that. That's on me. I'll do better next time. Taash: I will. I promise.

Taash: We can't have another Weisshaupt. We can't do that again. Rook: Agreed.

Option: We're all scared, damn it! Rook: You think you're the only one who's in over their head right now? None of us know what we're doing! Taash: I'm the one who has to stop the blighted dragons! Rook: We all got knocked down. Everyone else is getting back up to keep fighting. Taash: Why get up if I don't have anything to fight with? Rook: You gonna join us, or sit there and complain about it? Taash: What? So I get crapped on because I wasn't crying in front of everybody?

Taash: (Sighs) I'm gonna take some time. Punch something. Get my head on straight. Taash: But I'll be here if something comes up.

Rook: You are not doing this alone, okay? Taash: Okay.

Rook - Varric

Varric: Weisshaupt was a lot. You holding up all right?

Option: I'm sure you heard some of the shouting. Rook: I just talked with Solas. Which really didn't help after the day I've had. You probably heard the yelling. (reference to this) Varric: That little speech of yours left me worried. Where did that come from?

Option: I'm taking responsibility. Rook: The gods are loose because of us. Because of me. We have to stop them. We can't cry over the costs. Varric: What, it's too hard to think about the people you're trying to save, so it's better to just forget them? Rook: It's just reality. Varric: Rook, you can't escape from your feelings by working. Just ask my brother Bartrand.

Option: We have to keep working. Rook: We don't have time to stop and deal with this tragedy, Varric. Every minute we waste, the gods take more from us. Varric: You're not helping anyone by shutting down and focusing on work. You're making your team miserable. Rook: We have to face facts. We're fighting an overwhelming enemy, and people will die. We can't cry over each one.

Varric: You've definitely been spending too much time with Solas. Rook, Chuckles doesn't know what he's talking about. Varric: He never did. Don't take advice from someone who's broken the world twice. Three times, if you count this one.

Option: I'm scared to death. Rook: Honestly? I'm terrified. Ghilan'nain alone wiped out the Grey Wardens in their own stronghold. Rook: It took everything we had to kill her Archdemon, and she got away. No wonder Solas didn't try to fight them.

Option: I can't believe that happened. Rook: I'm honestly not sure how we go on. Rook: I think I'm in shock. So many people… gone just like that.

Option: We lost Weisshaupt. Rook: Varric. Weisshaupt is gone. The Grey Wardens… are gone. I have no idea what happens now.

Option: Varric. We're going to lose. Rook: Weisshaupt stood for a thousand years, and the gods just wiped it off the map. Rook: The Grey Wardens will never recover. I don't know if the world will.

Varric: Weisshaupt was bad. Anyone would be a wreck after that. But you're still standing. Rook: No, that was bullshit.

Rook: Taash isn't the only one who's pissed off after what happened. The Wardens should've been prepared! Rook: They had everything they needed! An army! A giant fortress! They even had an Archdemon trap, Varric! Rook: But they were so high on their own bullshit, they still fell! And took our chances of winning with them.

Rook (Grey Warden): And the Grey Wardens… we were supposed to be better than this. Our big battle finally came. And we failed.

Varric: Well, that sounds like self-defeating crap if I've ever heard it. Varric: How many stories did I tell you about Kirkwall? The Deep Roads expedition, the Qunari invasion, the Chantry… Varric: How many of my stories end with me stuck standing alone in ruins? Too many. Varric: There's no grand plan worth more than the people in the streets. Anyone who says otherwise is lying. Varric: Take it from someone who's worn a crown. The greater good is bullshit. Varric: Nobody fights for the world. They fight for the things in it that matter. So who are you fighting for? Really?

Faction option: The folks back home. Rook (Grey Warden): The Wardens were all I had. I have to do this for them. Rook: (Shadow Dragon) It's going to sound strange to say, "for Minrathous," but there are good people there… in and out of the Shadows. Rook (Antivan Crow): Viago's kind of terrifying, but the Crows are my family. I can't let Antiva fall. Rook (Veil Jumper): There's a lot of people still trying to fix Arlathan. I just want to give them the chance. Rook (Mourn Watch): I don't want to imagine the gods reaching the Grand Necropolis. It can't happen. Rook (Lord of Fortune): The other Lords, I suppose. They should never have to deal with this mess. Varric: That's a start. It's not enough to oppose evil. You have to care who lives to see your greater good arrive. Varric: Yeah, there's folks in Kirkwall I'm looking forward to seeing when this is over.

Option: The team. Rook: This team. Everyone here. This is all I've got, Varric. Varric: Right. Look after the team. You picked them for a reason. Varric: You've got to know you can't protect them from yourself.

Option: I don't know. Rook: I'm not sure I have an answer. Varric: My point is: You better know what you're not willing to lose. Looking away won't save them. Varric: You've still got the team, and you still have allies.

Rook: Bellara is gone. I don't know if she's coming back.

Rook: Taash is… gone. I don't know how to fix that.

Varric: The fight's not over until you give up.

Option: I won't. Rook: I wasn't planning to. Varric: No, you wouldn't. You're not the type to quit.

Option: Right. Back to the fight. Rook: Pick up the pieces and move forward. There's nothing else to do. Varric: Isn't that the truth?

Option: I don't know what to do. Rook: But I don't know where we go from here, or what comes next. Varric: Trust the team. Varric: You picked most of them, Rook. They're your team. Don't forget that.

Option: I'm hearing, "surrender." Rook: So, now would be a great time to retire to the Amaranthine Coast, I guess. Varric: It's never a good time to live out there. Rains more days than not. Varric: As bad as things are, you already have what you need.

Option: Want your old job back? Rook: If you make a sudden recovery, and want to take over for me, I won't say no. Varric: I would if I could.

Option: What about Bellara? Rook: How do I patch things up with Bellara? Varric: Give her some time to cool off, and then apologize. She cares too much to quit. Varric: And it wouldn't hurt to see if your resident dragon expert has any ideas.

Option: What about Taash? Rook: How do I patch things up with Taash? Varric: Let her cool off. Taash reminds me of Fenris sometimes. Has to hit something until she figures out what she's really mad about. Varric: And once Taash is back, maybe see if your dragon expert has any ideas.

Varric: You've got this, Rook. Don't worry.

Varric: You might want to check on Lucanis and Davrin to start. They were a little too quiet earlier. (maybe a reference to this)

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ PILLOWTALK, BELLAMY BLAKE

summary. You spend your last night with Bellamy before he has to go save your people in Mount Weather.

a/n. this is a short one, not sure it’s that great but I wanted to write something. Let’s pretend they actually have one moment of peace before he goes off to mtw:)

word count. 734

my masterlist/support my work!

──────────୨ৎ──────────

It wasn’t often that you and Bellamy had time to be just the two of you. It was rare, because, well- war and everything.

This was different though. It wasn’t a ‘finally we have time to be together without interruption!’ It was almost a goodbye, or at least a see you later.

He was going, whether you liked it or not, to save your people. You knew there was nothing you could say, or do to stop him. He was a leader- that’s what leaders do. Clarke wasn’t an option, you tried to negotiate to go in his place, but with no surprise, Bellamy barely let you finish that sentence. He would burn the whole word down for you, so sending you in there with no backup? Over his dead body.

Bellamy was protective, but he didn’t accept anyone being protective over him. You tried to be, but authority over Bellamy? That doesn’t work for many people, especially not you. You stopped fighting him. He had to go, and you knew that. It didn’t mean you had to like it, you just had to accept it, because it was happening anyway.

You had faith in Bellamy. It wasn’t him- it was them. It didn’t matter that the plan was set, and sounded great. They were full of secrets, so you were afraid they’d pull something that Bellamy wouldn’t be able to get out of.

The bed was warm with both of your bodies intertwined on it.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Bellamy asked from behind you. His hands both on your stomach, his chest to your back.

‘That this is our last night together before you have to leave.’ You let out a sigh, Bellamy squeezing your body.

‘Hey, look at me.’ He pulled your shoulder so you would lay on your back.

He hovered over you, tracing patterns on your naked arm.

‘I can handle myself, you know that. I’m coming back, we all are.’

‘I know you can handle yourself, bell. what I’m worried about is those people. We know nothing about them and yet they seem to know everything about us.’ You stared at him, worry in your eyes.

‘You’re afraid they’ll ambush us?’ His eyebrows furrowed, of course he’d thought of that option.

‘I'm afraid they'll find out you're there sooner than expected and it'll make things harder for you to get our people out. I don't think this is gonna go well, Bellamy. I trust you, I just- I don't want you to go. And I know you’re going to anyway, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.’ You looked away.

‘Hey.’ He redirected your face to look at him with his fingers on your chin.

‘We’re gonna be just fine. You’re the only positive person here, we need that. You have to believe, for me. I’ll handle it, and we’ll be back in no time. Whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere.’

‘How can you be so sure, bell? This is a suicide mission.’ Your optimism was nowhere near coming back.

‘Because I have to. I have to believe I’m coming back to you. I have to believe that when I’m back, we can get to do that every day. Lay in bed, talk, do some other things…’ he smirked like he does so well.

‘You better come back, Bellamy. I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do if you-‘ you choked and refused to finish.

‘I won’t. We made a pact, remember? I don’t get to die, and neither do you. Just.. positivity, alright?’ He tried cheering you up.

‘Okay. Positivity.’ You smiled though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You had to accept he was coming back, even if there was a small chance he wouldn’t. You had to be strong, for him.

‘Good. Now can I please kiss you? I wanna remember what kissing you feels like before I leave. I need the motivation.’

Bellamy started kissing your jaw, which made you giggle.

‘There’s that smile.’ He put his legs on each side of your body, and kissed you again. This time, the kiss was heavy, passionate and full of love. His hands trailed all over your body, messily. He made his way down, kissing your jaw again, to your collarbones, until all you could hear was your laughter echoing through the room.

It was going to be one hell of a see you later.

[oshikiri-toru]

I'm a strong believer in Soap & Ghost not wanting kids and not really caring to "start a family," but I do love the idea of them taking in the older neighborhood kids.

They don't foster or adopt, too lazy to jump through all the legal hoops and unending paperwork, but they'll have the troubled children on the block come in for dinner almost every night. Kids whose parents couldn't give a damn about them, already gave up on them, or are too tired to actually parent.

They let them help with house work and pay them so they know what it's like to earn instead of steal, they'll invite them to parties to know what it's like to have community, and they'll show up to their games or plays to let them know someone will always be proud.

Teens are always in and out of their houses, knowing it's always a soft place to land, knowing Soap and Ghost don't already see them as lost causes. Knowing if they have a bad trip or get badly hurt that they won't get in trouble or screamed at, they'll get help.

It helps that they both understand the kids, lost and alone in a world that doesn't give a damn. Sometimes they have heart-to-hearts, let the kids cry until they can't anymore. Other times they teach them how to properly swing at a punching bag to healthily release their anger. Occasionally they'll actually fight the kids just to show them they aren't as tough as they think before teaching them better ways to settle conflict.

Most importantly, they show the kids that no matter how fucked up your life is, how hard things get, or how much it feels like it's all ending, it'll always end up okay. They'll grow up, make a life for themselves, find people who care about them, and can help make the world a better place so the next generations of kids will feel a little less like they did.

They'll never have kids of their own, but they sure as hell look out for the kids in their lives.