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faebaex · 1 year ago

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Accidentally Courting an Eel Ⅰ

author note: oooops I was supposed to post this days ago but then it somehow ended up being almost 5k words?? And this is only part 1?? Sorry sorry, I hope you enjoy it! A lot of chaos here, the only one who shows any kind of sense is Ruggie, we love you king! also many character cameos as well! i hope i did them justice

warnings: Cursing, violence, reader is quite a feisty and angry person tbh

characters: Floyd Leech x F!Reader

Your world had been turned upside down when you had returned from summer break. Intent to start your second year, you instead went to your first day of the semester only to find out that your mage school was closing and being absorbed by another school. In a whirlwind, you found yourself in the prestigious Night Raven College opening ceremony, being placed in a dormitory posthaste (you found yourself sorted into Heartslabyul, your new housewarden seemed absolutely unhinged) and then expected to continue in as normal. You had no idea why your academy closed, or why such a prestigious college was so willing to absorb an indie mage academy with a small student cohort and an obscure reputation, and those questions were never answered. Life just kind of… Went on.

Whilst the arrival of new students at the start of a new academic year wasn’t strange, it was entirely unusual to receive sophomore and senior students with the incoming batch of freshmen, so there was a lot of excitement that followed the first couple of weeks that you and the rest of your previous cohort had at Night Raven College. Lots of eyes on you, sizing you up and trying to get an idea of what you were worth… And for you, that meant a few fights.

You were known in your previous academy as being quite fiery, not hesitating to throw hands if you needed to, despite being on the shorter side compared to your peers. You were a scrapper, and a dirty one at that, more than willing to bite, scratch and pull hair if it meant that you could get the upper hand. It had gotten to the point that you began wearing shorts underneath your skirt, so that you had more freedom of movement if you needed to kick someone where the sun didn’t shine. You had the most spats with the Savanaclaw dorm, growing sick of being shoulder bumped and generally harassed by the predominantly beastman dorm. After the first couple of fights and during your next, you’d found yourself thrown over the shoulder of the Savanaclaw housewarden, Kingscholar, and extracted from the situation. You received a rather stern lecture on how you needed to stop getting into fights with his boys (which you gave him a few choice words right back) but after that, you seemed to find yourself getting bothered a lot less by the Savanaclaw students. And to be honest, a lecture from Kingscholar was miles more bearable than a lecture from housewarden Rosehearts. There were only so many apology essays you could write, after all.

After a few weeks, the novelty of having new students wore off and you were able to carry on with your school life without much issue. Sure, you got into a few fights here and there occasionally, but nothing too major, enough for you to skate under the detection of housewarden Rosehearts. After all, nothing was worse than sitting through a Rosehearts lecture. Weeks blended into months, and soon you were far into your first semester, and had rather gotten used to life at Night Raven College. You’d even managed to build some sort of rapport with your housewarden, who was less on your back now that your constant fighting had calmed down.

You found yourself sighing as you made your way to the potions lab, leafing through your notes on the way. Professor Crewel had set up and assignment and paired everyone off and to be honest, the assignment had been a complete nightmare. Together, you and your partner were supposed to brew an energy boosting potion, but you had to figure out the ingredients and brewing method with only a few hints and clues along the way. Crewel refused to give further instruction apart from surveying the ingredients selected by students, to ensure no dangerous mishaps could occur, stating with a slap of his whip that the whole point of the assignment was for students to study the potion and ingredients available to them to create the potion. Unfortunately for you, your partner for this assignment didn’t have the best grade in potionology, and considering that this assignment was graded, anything short of a good pass would have housewarden Rosehearts chasing you around the dorm demanding an explanation. Thankfully, you seemed close to finishing the assignment, the ginger root you required as your last ingredient finally having finished distilling. You were on your way to the potion lab after classes now to meet with your partner to finish brewing the potion and finally be free of the assignment that had been weighing around your neck for the last few weeks.

Or so you thought.

When you entered the lab, your lab partner was waiting there as expected, but you knew at first glance that something was up. The closer you got to him, the paler you noticed his face was, and you couldn’t help raising your brow as you stopped beside him. “What’s up?” You queried, placing your notes on the desk and putting down your bag by your chair. A few other students were milling around the potions lab, trying to finish their own assignments, one of them being Ruggie, a Savanaclaw student you usually saw running around after Kingscholar. He looked rather sheepish, his ears twitching as he stared hard at his own assignment. Your eyes fell back to your lab partner, who still looked like he would rather sink through the floor than be in the lab at that moment. “Well? Are you ready to finish the assignment? The ginger root should have distilled now so all we need to do is brew—”

“Um… About the ginger root…” Your lab partner began in a small voice, and you could see sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, “I think we are going to have to distil it again…” You blinked and stared blankly at your lab partner, as if he had suddenly grown an extra limb. “Distil it again? It took us 2 days to distil the first vial! What happened to the one we distilled?” You asked, frustration clear in your tone and mounting fast. If your lab partner wanted to sink through the floor before, now he wanted the ground to just open and swallow him whole. His eyes darted around nervously and he leaned forwards, closing the gap between you so he could whisper to you, “someone… Took it.”

You stared incredulously at him, “do you know who?” Your partner nodded; his eyes glued to the floor. “Then just take it back!” You hissed, at a loss at why your lab partner didn’t just retrieve your ginger root and resolve the situation, but his eyes shot up at your words and he looked terrified at the suggestion. “N-no way!” He stuttered, his face somehow becoming paler, “look, lets just wait a few days. I’ll distil another vial, I’ll do all the work—”

“Who took it?” You demanded flatly.

“Just forget about it, we still have time—”

“Who. Took. It.” You repeated sharply, your eyes narrowing into a glare on your lab partner. He swallowed thickly, and he discreetly nodded his head in the direction of the culprit. Your eyes left your lab partner and settled on the culprit, and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Look,” your lab partner started, moving to put a hand on your arm, “Just leave it, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea—”

“Wait here.”

You brushed off your lab partner’s hand as you began walking over to the culprit, who had his back to you as he leafed through the ingredients in the potionology inventory. He was tall, towering over you even when you weren’t that close to him yet, with teal coloured hair and roughly put together uniform. You could spy what you assumed to be your vial of ginger root tucked into the crook of his hand as he thumbed through the rest of the jars and bottles on the shelf, clearly looking for ingredients to complete his own assignment. And apparently, he had decided that your ginger root was his for the taking.

“Oi. Give back my ginger root.” You demanded, glaring at the back of the culprit’s head.

“Ahh~? Get lost, guppy. I’m workin’ here.” The culprit drawled back, not even bothering to look back at you as he continued to flip through ingredients, not a care in the world.

“Yeah? Well, you’ll be working on your ass if you don’t give me back my ginger root.” You retorted, folding your arms across your chest as you continued to glare. That seemed to get his attention, as he turned around to face you. His eyes seemed to light up when he caught sight of you, a wild grin spreading across his lips, showcasing his freakishly sharp teeth. Yikes.

“Ahaa~ You’re real tiny, little guppy. Hey, why don’t you come get your ginger root back?” He challenged, a glint in his eyes that immediately told you that this guy was going to mess with you. You tried to reach for the vial, but he quickly snatched it away, dangling it high in the air over your head with a spiteful grin. “Ah, ah, ah guppy, you’ll have to try harder than that. C’mon, jump for it.”

You clicked your tongue, feeling your blood boiling at his attitude. You stood on the tips of your toes, and even then, you were barely closer to his face. “None of us will have ginger root when I shove that vial so far down your throat no one will have to hear your annoying voice again.” You hissed at him lowly, your lips twisted up in an annoyed snarl. All amusement and mocking sank out of his face as his own face darkened, his pupils shrinking as he now began to glare at you. “You got alotta nerve, guppy. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

The two of you glared at each other, and he leaned forward with menacing intent, “Maybe I should do you a favour and squeeze some sense into ya.” He said, all previous drawl lost from his tone as he threatened you now. You scoffed, having had more than enough of this guy. You quickly reached forward and yanked that stupid black lock of hair that hung down his face, catching him by surprise and using that opportunity to push him back, making him collide into the ingredients shelf, the jars and vials rattling precariously from the impact. You tried to reach for vial of ginger root, that now also balanced dangerously in his hand, but before you could reach it, his arms suddenly locked around your middle, lifting you off the ground and squeezing. You felt your ribs begin to protest as he crushed you, and you hissed in pain, your legs kicking violently at whatever you could in an attempt to get free. You could vaguely hear the sound of smashing glass, but you couldn’t focus on that. Now when he was staring down at you, a smug smile spreading across his lips as he watched you struggle. It made you seethe. You twisted and kicked, and somehow managed to free your left arm. Striking before he could restrain you again, you took your chance and seized hold of his earring and yanked. You heard him grunt as the earring came away in your hand, but it still wasn’t enough for him to let you go, so you turned your head and sank your teeth into his arm. He froze when you did that, his hands slackening enough that you slipped out of his grasp altogether, your feet hitting the floor quicker than you expected, almost making you fall backwards. You steadied yourself, readying a follow up attack when he was still stunned frozen after you bit him, only to feel yourself yanked backwards at the waist and thrown over someone’s shoulder, moving at such a nimble speed that the ginger root stealing culprit was soon leaving your sight as you were whisked out of the potions lab.

“Put me down!” You seethed, trying to lean up in your captor’s grasp, your hand pressing into their shoulder. “Ruggie?! What do you think you’re doing? Put me down right now!” Ruggie ignored your complaints, running through the corridor with surprising ease despite you being on his shoulder, zipping through winding corridors like this wasn’t his first time.

“No can do. If Leona found out you’d been fighting again and I was there and didn’t do anything, he’d have my tail.” Ruggie grumbled, his ears going flat at the thought, “and with Floyd Leech of all people! I mean this respectfully but, Y/N are you nuts? You gotta have a death wish.” Ruggie continued to spout off about how you had not perception of threat or danger, just throwing your hands left, right and centre without any care for who you were dealing with. You scrunched up your face, a lecture from Ruggie not on your bingo card for the year, that’s for sure.

“Who is Floyd Leech?” You grumbled sourly, starting to feel a little dizzy from a combination of the blood rushing to your head and how quickly Ruggie sped through the corridors. Ruggie shook his head, glancing up at you incredulously. “Floyd Leech is the guy you just rammed into the potions inventory, and probably in every student in this school’s top 10 guys not to mess with ranking. High up too, I imagine.” Ruggie commented dryly, his speed slowing to a slow jog as he seemed to near to the destination you had in mind. “Crewel is going to kill you by the way, if Floyd doesn’t first. You absolutely totalled his potionology inventory for that lab.”

You groaned at that, the consequences of your actions starting to rear their ugly head. Either way, housewarden Rosehearts would have your head, if there was anything left of it after Crewel was done with you. You didn’t get a chance to wallow, as Ruggie slowed to a stop and gently lowered you off of his shoulder. You looked around, only to notice you were standing outside of the infirmary. “Why did you bring me here? I’m fine.” You questioned, only for Ruggie to give you another stunned look, his tail flickering anxiously behind him.

“What? Y/N… Uh… Your legs are kinda…” Ruggie trailed off and you looked down, your eyes widening as you saw an array of cuts down your bare legs, dripping blood down to your socks. “Oh… Oops.” You muttered, looking a little sheepish. Ruggie scratched behind his ear, looking slightly awkward himself. “Yeah… You should probably get those checked out…”

You sighed as you turned to the infirmary door, a small grimace on your lips. “Thanks, Ruggie… Feel free to tell housewarden Kingscholar that you saved the day.” That seemed to brighten the mood a little bit, Ruggie’s characteristic smile starting to come back to his face. “You bet I will, shishishi…” With that, he scurried off, leaving you to enter the infirmary alone. As you were about to push the door open, you noticed the something in your hand, opening it to reveal a teal earring clutched in your fist. You sighed again, having completely forgotten in the heat of the moment that you’d torn that out of Floyd’s ear. Not knowing how to deal with it, you slid it into your skirt pocket and entered the infirmary.

You sighed as you trudged back to your dorm room, rubbing your head with a tired expression. You’d barely finished having the cuts on your legs checked for glass and cleaned when Professor Crewel had come marching into the infirmary to tear you a new one. You swear your ears were still ringing from the crack of his whip, knowing you’d be hearing it in your nightmares for the next couple of days at the least. You’d been instructed to attend the potionology lab after classes tomorrow to clean up the mess you’d made, and for whatever other punishment Crewel deemed necessary for however many days he deemed. You fully expected to get chewed out by Crewel even more tomorrow when you attended your detention, but that was something to dread tomorrow.

You’d survived your encounter with Floyd Leech largely unharmed, luckily the cuts on your legs not having any glass stuck in them and shallow enough that they’d likely heal in a couple of days, easily bandaged up to keep them clean. Your ribs, however, were bruised and hurt like a bitch, but again, it could have been worse. Surprisingly, another thing that could be worse was the reaction from Housewarden Riddle once you had gotten back to the dorm. He was waiting for you by the doors to be dorm, and you expected to lose your head immediately. Instead, you sat through a two-and-a-half-hour lecture about how unacceptable your behaviour was and how he expected you to apologise to Crewel sincerely posthaste, as well as demanding you write a 2000 word apology essay. But oddly enough, Riddle seemed more irked that it was Floyd Leech that you had gotten into a fight with, warning you to keep clear of him if you valued your education.

Floyd Leech this, Floyd leech that. All everyone talked about was Floyd damn Leech, like he was some sort of terror on campus. Although you had to admit, if he managed to even rile Riddle up to that extent, maybe there was something about him.

Either way, you didn’t really care. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off an hour ago, and you were beyond exhausted. You pushed open the door to your dorm room and flopped face down onto your bed, ready to pass out into oblivion, only to feel a stabbing pain in your thigh. You groaned dramatically and rolled onto your back, patting at the bed to try and find the source of your irritation. Finding nothing, you patted at your thigh, slipping your hand into your pocket and feeling something jingle. With a quizzical hum, you pulled out a set of teal jewels, squinting at it in confusion, before it finally clicked.

Floyd Leech’s earring.

You held it up to the light, watching the light shine off of the three jewels that dangled from the simple golden stud. It was quite pretty, actually. As you continue to gaze at the earring as it dangled between your fingers, you noticed that the chain that attached the teal jewels to the stud were slightly damaged. You sat up, bringing the earring closer to your face to inspect it. Huh, it must have gotten damaged when you had pulled it out of Floyd’s ear… You turned the earring around in your hand, giving it another look over whilst you mulled over what you should do. Standing, you made your way to your desk, turning on the desk lamp and laying the earring carefully on the desk, you got to work…

“I don’t want to see a single shard of glass on that floor. Do you understand, pup?”

“Yes sir.” You muttered dejectedly, beginning to sweep up the mounds of glass that littered the battered potions inventory. You had to admit, you and Floyd had done a number on it, the floor chaotic with smashed glass and spilt ingredients, plant leaves mushed together from being trodden underfoot and staining the tiles of the lab. You sighed quietly under your breath, knowing that it was going to take a long time to clean all of this up.

As you cleaned, your eyes kept flickering to the door. You weren’t the only one who was supposed to be cleaning up this mess. Floyd was supposed to be here too. However, he had yet to turn up, so the lion’s share of the work was currently left to you. Crewel sat at his desk, grading alchemy papers whilst keeping an eye on your progress, probably to heckle you if your progress slowed. Your ribs still throbbed dully, protesting every time you bent at the waist to retrieve a particularly hefty chunk of glass, Crewel peering over at you occasionally to make sure you didn’t cut yourself any more than you already were. You could only hope you could get this done quickly so you could leave.

After what felt like hours, you had finally cleaned all the glass and ingredients off the floor, the process taking longer than you anticipated after Crewel insisted that you disposed of the spoiled ingredients properly, and then scolding you for yipping and giving you an impromptu lecture on correct ingredient disposal methods. You were about to pull of your gloves when Crewel once again appeared in front of you, a large cardboard box in his arms that he placed on a nearby desk.

“You’re not finished yet, pup. I expect you to arrange the new ingredients onto the shelves in proper order.” Crewel instructed, and you felt yourself grimace before you could stop yourself.

“Do I have to? Can’t Floyd do it? I cleaned up the entire floor!” You complained, deciding to push your luck anyway. Crewel looked around the room, an eyebrow raised before his eyes fell back on you.

“Do you see Leech anywhere?” Crewel said, and you could tell by his tone that you’d already lost. Why did he have to be so sassy?!

“… No.” You mumbled, cringing as you heard the thwapping of Crewel’s whip against his gloved palm.

“Exactly, now get to work. You can go once I approve the finished inventory.” Crewel ordered, making his way back to his desk whilst you rummaged through the cardboard box of fresh ingredients, a hard done by pout on your face. “Yes sir…”

“Good girl.”

Your entire body felt stiff the next morning, your joints cracking as you stretched with a groan. Floyd had never turned up in the end, leaving you to clean up the entire inventory and restock it, which was no easy task with Crewel’s finicky tastes. It took numerous attempts and lectures on the importance of ingredient storage before Crewel was finally happy enough to grant you freedom, only to miserably crush your spirit by informing you that he expected you to attend to the regrowth of replacement ingredients in the botanical garden for the next 3 days. Lucky you.

The only saving grace was that your initial sentence in the botanical garden had been reduced as a result of Floyd not turning up at all when you were supposed to clean the potionology lab. By the sound of it, Crewel was going to be ensuring that he served his detention in the botanical garden.

You found yourself slightly irritated that Floyd hadn’t turned up to your joint detention. Not only because it meant you had to spend hours cleaning up a mess that arguably wasn’t entirely your fault, but also because you had planned to give him back his earring. You had stayed up late into the night fixing the earring, fairly satisfied with yourself for making it look as good as new. You planned to hunt him down today to give it back to him, no matter what, if only because walking around with it in your pocket made you feel like it was going to inevitably get broken again.

Your fight with Floyd had spread around campus like wildfire, and you had people you didn’t even know commenting on how hardcore you were for going up against Floyd Leech without batting an eyelid. You’d also heard that since the fight, Floyd had been in a foul mood, and it was fifty fifty between students complimenting you and blaming you for being the unfortunate victim of Floyd’s new vile mood.

Either way, Floyd’s mood was not enough to deter you from finding him to return his earring. However, you couldn’t find him in the morning on the way to classes, and you didn’t see him at lunch either. You were wondering if you were going to have to go all the way to the Octavinelle dorm after classes, not really looking forward to that thought and beginning to think about whether this was all really worth it. Maybe you should just flag down a random Octavinelle student and give them the earring and just hope it made its way back to Floyd.

As you were pondering as you walked to your club, you saw a flash of teal at the end of the corridor, looking up quickly to see the retreating figures of a light grey-haired student along with two taller, teal haired students, one with a pretty unmistakable slouch with his hands in his pockets. A-ha!

“Oi! Floyd Leech!” You called, starting to break out into a light jog in case he didn’t stop and turn around. Luck was somewhat on your side, as all three of the students stopped and turned their attention to you, and you vaguely recognised one as the housewarden for Octavinelle. He was currently eyeing you up, meanwhile the teal haired student who wasn’t Floyd was giving you a smile that, whilst coming off polite at face value, reeked of mocking. You ignored them both, slowing to a stop in front of Floyd and boy, the other students were right. He looked like he was in a terrible mood, his eyes narrowed on you like he was about to start another fight.

“What do you want, guppy? I’m busy.” He drawled; his eyebrows furrowed as he frowned down at you. You scoffed at that, shooting your own frown back at him reproachfully. “I was really busy yesterday when someone didn’t turn up to their detention and I had to clean and rearrange the entire potionology inventory by myself.” You shot back at him, narrowing your eyes at him and watching him just stare back at you disinterestedly.

“Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. Here.” You fished into your pocket carefully and brought out the teal earring, dangling it carefully between your fingers. If you weren’t so distracted trying to get the earring out of your skirt pocket as gently as possible, you would have seen the flicker of surprise that went across Jade’s expression, or how Azul pushed up his glasses in an attempt to mask his own surprise. “I didn’t realise I still had it on me when I left the potions lab, to be honest. It got a little damaged during the fight, but I managed to fix it so good I bet you can’t even notice!” You weren’t even aware of the proud little beam that was on your face as you spoke of your repair job, or how all three of them stared at you in a veiled mix of surprise, confusion, and awe.

You held the earring out to Floyd for him to take, which he did, all previous traces of irritation washed from his face now as he held his earring in his palm. A silence had fell between you and considering that the situation was already awkward enough as it is, you decided to excuse yourself. “Well, that was all I wanted. I’ll be leaving.” You didn’t wait for any of them to respond, and none of them did as you walked past them and continued on your way to your club activities.

So happy you were to finally have that interaction over with and not have to worry about re-damaging the delicate earring that had made its home in your pocket over the last couple of days, you didn’t notice how Floyd Leech stared wistfully at your retreating back, said earring cradled carefully in his bare palm…

#twst #twisted wonderland #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd #floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x y/n

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grimmweepers · 1 month ago

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— ☆ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: sfw, post-war levi ackerman, gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, comfort, set a few years after the rumbling, inspired by that scene of levi giving candy out to the kids, 0.9k wc

Sometimes, you stood by the window in your cottage just to stare into the unremarkable field beyond.

Truthfully, there wasn’t much to see—only a small garden, patches of overgrown grass, and a pavement riddled with enough cracks to make the superstitious shudder. But the sun was out and life had settled into something neither of you had known for years.

It was peaceful times now; dreams did not feel so big and foreign anymore.

Behind you, you heard the familiar creak of his wheelchair. Levi moved slower these days, more out of habit than out of necessity because there was no longer anything to rush for. When his figure crossed a pool of sunlight on the floor, you turned to look at him. A deep scar stretched across his face, his sharp eyes now reduced to one, and his black hair—normally kept shorter and pristine—was relaxed on his forehead. The world had changed, and so had he. Despite it all, you loved him the same. Perhaps even more.

“I can feel your eyes burning into my skull,” he sighed through his nose. There was teasing lilt dancing behind his otherwise blunt words and it brought a small smile to your lips.

“I’m just thinking,” you said softly, stepping close enough until you knelt in front of his wheelchair. You placed a hand on his knee and rest assured, he was still as firm as the first day he allowed you to touch him so comfortably, “Thinking about getting more plants for the garden. Maybe some flowers this time.”

“Flowers?” Levi looked down at you, brows arched, pretending to be shocked at your audacity to meddle with his precious array of vegetables. He saw right through your distraction but decided to feed into your white lie anyway. “You think I’d let something like that clutter the garden?”

“You’ve already let me clutter the windowsill,” You countered, only half seriously. You gestured towards the collection of potted herbs on the sill, expecting Levi to remain adamant about his little garden but when you looked back at him, he was—

Laughing?

Not a trace of the soldier you knew was present in his features and even after all this time, seeing him happy still made your heart flutter.

“Fine. But only a few,” he tipped his head towards the window, “The garden’s still gotta be functional.”

“Functional,” you repeated. “Right, of course.”

You wanted to tell him how nice it was to be able to argue over flowers than death but you saved that conversation for another time. When you both thought about it for too long, there was no coming out of that hole—for either of you.

There was a faraway look in his eyes and for a moment, you thought he might drift to that place but something pulled him back. He then held your hand as tightly as two missing fingers allowed. “I’m supposed to visit the children today.”

Curious by the sudden change of topic, you blinked up at him.

“Come with me,” he continued. “They’ve been asking about you. You can get your flowers on the way.”

The orphanage had become part of Levi’s routine, another piece of his life that softened after the rumbling. He didn’t talk about it much but the children meant a lot to him. At first, seeing them was a way to atone for the lives he couldn’t save. But as time passed, it became less about guilt and more about being present with kids of the new world. Like the plants he tended in the garden, you saw how those children burst with life when he was there.

“You sure they’ve been asking for me?” you cocked your head to the side, “You’re their hero. I’m just the person who brings you tea.”

Levi tried to scoff but failed, “Tch, you’re more than that. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Oh? So I’m more than just your tea supplier?” Your eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Much more.” They were words of encouragement in hindsight, though his tone was all but dry. He glared at you with that familiar scowl but you knew there was no venom behind it.

Don’t you dare flash that grin, he thought.

You fought your own smile. What am I then, Levi?

“A pain in the ass is what you are.”

A patient and kind pain in the ass who he had loved in secret even when the concept of love felt impossible to him. Too many sleepless nights were wasted wondering if he should’ve told you. But this was during the darkest days when Titans left a sea of red and every dawn felt like it could be the last.

Levi was just your comrade, who had lost everything before the real war even began. So what would he know of love?

Back then, loving you felt like twisting a knife into a wound that was too deep to heal. But with the rumbling behind him and every haunting memory that remained, it only made him love you harder in the now.

You rose from your spot to brush a kiss on top of his head, “And yet, you let this pain in the ass share beds with you. So tell me, who’s the real fool here?”

“Guess we both are,” he said with a flicker of amusement at the edge of his lips.

As if the world had decided to agree, a little gust of wind tapped the window, and your focus returned to the outside. The grass still needed trimming and the pavement had seen better days.

“I’ll come with you,” you said warmly. “But only if you promise to pick out at least one flower for the garden.”

Levi pinched your side. You giggled and pinched him back.

“Alright,” he muttered, already rolling towards the door, “One flower.”

a/n: wow it took me 3 years to finally write for aot. what kind of flower do you think levi will pick for the garden?

divider: @/adornedwithlight

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kennahjune · 11 months ago

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Trauma bond? No. Bro bond.

Was having Steve and Lucas bro bond thoughts that accidentally turned into Steve whump.

…

Steve and Lucas bonding over sports more than anyone realized they ever would.

Like yeah, everyone knew Steve played basketball and was on the swim team in high school; that was practically his entire personality for a bit. But they never realized how much he actually /liked/ the sports.

Until he was geeking out with Lucas over a new play they’d thought of.

It was odd for them all to see Steve so excited. They watched on from their seats on the front porch steps. Eddie and Jonathan each had a beer, the both of them sharing a blunt with Argyle. Nancy and Robin sat on the steps below them, watching on while Steve and Lucas payed them no mind from the driveway.

It was almost comical— how the moment Lucas showed up on his bike Steve was up in an instant. After confirming it was indeed not a code red, Steve was quick to join Lucas. Especially after being told it was basketball related.

Steve had kicked his own beer over in his haste to get up.

Now Steve and Lucas were in the driveway, the garage door down (to prevent damage to the cars) and the Harrington’s basketball hoop out. Both were blissfully unaware of the eyes following them. Well, the eyes following /Steve/, it was more like.

Circling back the earlier thought; they’d never seen him to engaging in something. So excited. So…happy.

Which was really sad to think about.

“I’ve never seen him so excited over something,” Nancy said, speaking everyone’s thoughts.

Well. Except Argyle’s, it seems. “Nah, man. He gets like this anytime he starts talking about sports. We were watching a soccer game on TV last night and he was like— totally freaking out! Waving his hands around and talking a mile a minute.”

He took a puff of the blunt and passed it to Eddie, unaware of how he just tilted everyone’s worlds.

“Wait—“ Eddie took a drag and his voice was strained while he kept in the smoke “—he actually talks to you about that shit?”

Argyle hummed and looked at Eddie oddly. Eddie blew the smoke out and held Argyle’s eye.

“Yeah dude. All the time. Might help that I played volleyball back in Cali but— really, I just like hearing him talk. And I think he likes talking. He talks a lot.”

Argyle was getting extra talkative now, his sentences becoming shorter and more frequent. That’s how you knew he was high enough to not care.

“He’s never really been that talkative,” mumbled Robin, a sudden kind of dread settling uncomfortably in her chest.

Argyle shrugged. “Maybe you don’t talk about what he likes to talk about. He likes talking about sports. And romance books. He reads a lot of romance books.”

Well isn’t that something, Eddie thought. Steve Harrington likes to read.

(It brought up a distant memory from high school, from Steve’s sophomore year and Eddie’s junior year. Back before “King Steve” meant “jackass”.

“Well well, looky here, fellas! King Steve is gracing us peasants with his presence.” Eddie called mockingly to the young man sitting at the table in the library.

Steve— only 15 at the time, not 16 for another couple of months— looked up from his book with furrowed brows and a pout on his pretty pink lips. A pout that 21 year old Eddie would come to love.

Steve hadn’t done to much in the interaction. He more or less sat in silence while Eddie went on and on about something he couldn’t remember now.

When Steve had gotten up from the table, he doggy-eared his page (like a monster) and tucked the book under his arm. Eddie saw the title only briefly, “Forever Amber”.)

“Do we really never talk about his interests?” asked Jonathan to the sky, his head tilted up while he blew the smoke away.

They all startled when a series of shouts and laughs came from Lucas and Steve in the driveway. Eddie looked over in time to watch Steve pull Lucas in for a hug where they both patted each others backs aggressively. Eddie’s seen the guys do that at games. Some kind of weird bro-hug.

Eddie continued to watch when Steve bent down to pick up the rolling basketball. Eddie’s mind went other places quick enough when Steve pulled his shorts up a little higher. Robin smacked his calf.

“Seriously, you guys never talk to him about sports?” Argyle asked, flabbergasted. And I suppose he had every right to be. These were some of Steve’s closest friends. His boyfriend and his best friend! And they never got to listen to Steve rant about a particular basketball game from high school? About some specific swimming stroke and how it helped him win swim competitions?

They were seriously missing out.

Robin hung her head in shame and thought about it, her eyes misting over the more she realized that— yeah, she never talked to Steve about sports. Let alone his other interests. (Did he have other interests? That fact that she had to ask this question made her want to cry and hug Steve.)

Robin picked her head up and propped it in her hands. She looked on with everyone else as Steve and Lucas cheered about something or other.

Steve tossed Lucas the ball in the driveway. He bent himself at the knees and placed his hands on his thighs, breathing heavily.

“Alright, Sinclair. Hit me.” he smirked.

He and Lucas had been tossing the ball back and forth for close to an hour now, both excited to get this play right. Lucas dribbled the ball three times on the ground quickly before he set into motion.

Steve cut him off to the left, but Lucas swerved to the right so fast he nearly toppled himself over. Steve turned and jumped in front of him just in time to body slam him slightly. Not nearly as rough as he could’ve been, holding back because they were outside on concrete and Steve wasn’t going to be responsible for a concussion.

The ball rolled away into the grass, unnoticed while Steve gave Lucas a hand and pulled him up.

Lucas was taking heaving breaths, and for a scary moment Steve was worried he’d slammed him too hard and knocked his lungs around. It’s possible. That’s why Steve himself had an inhaler in the drawer closest to his bed.

But then Lucas was laughing, and soon Steve was to.

“Dude! How’d you do that? I’ve never seen anyone move like that man!” Lucas praised over his heavy breathing. Steve chuckled and took his own deep breaths.

He clapped Lucas on the shoulder, grabbed the ball, and steered him towards the porch. “Plant your feet next time.” He felt a ping of anger and sadness at the words, but tramped it down.

It was only when he’d reached the porch with Lucas that Steve realized they were alone outside. Had everyone gone inside? Did sports seriously bore them so much that they just up and left? The thought made something bitter churn in Steve’s gut.

Whatever.

He led Lucas through the door and dropped the basketball on the porch by the door. It was muddy and his floors were going to remain white for as long as possible thank you very much.

They both left their shoes by the door and traveled to the kitchen, Lucas talking about how fast he’d ducked and wanting to know what Steve meant by planting his feet. Steve agreed to another playing session the next day with a grin. It was nice to have someone who enjoyed what he did.

He tossed Lucas a bottle of water from the fridge and made sure the kid drank it all. They sat with each other at the counter for a minute, Steve idly sipping his water and listening to Lucas’ still heavy breaths.

“Damn, I still can’t catch my breath man.” Lucas laughed lightly.

Steve smiled and set his water down.

“Wait here, don’t do anything stupid.”

Lucas gave him a two finger salute as he walked off upstairs. Steve was sure to avoid the living room and was quick to grab the aforementioned inhaler from his drawer. He jogged back into the kitchen and sat next to Lucas one more.

“Ok, so I’m assuming you know what an inhaler is.”

Lucas nodded, staring at the inhaler in Steve’s hand oddly.

“I don’t have asthma,” Lucas said matter-of-factly.

Steve chuckled. “And neither do I. But there are times where you get knocked around too much or too hard, and it can rattle your lungs. I found that out the hard way when I was 14 and had my first asthma attack. My lungs had rattled so much they got trapped between my ribs and my mom had to take me to the hospital.”

Lucas winced. “Seriously? How the hell did you manage that?”

My dad got a little too rough, Steve thought. But decided against saying that, obviously. He smiled and shook his head. “Not important.”

Steve uncapped the inhaler and gave it a good shake. “Ok, I’m assuming you know at least a little about using one of these but one things for sure, you’ve gotta fix your posture.”

Lucas immediately straightened his back.

Steve went on explaining about how curling into yourself like that basically compressed your lungs and made breathing harder.

He held the inhaler to Lucas’ mouth and instructed him to breathe in and hold it for as long as he felt he could before releasing slowly.

Lucas did as instructed, and after no more than two puffs Steve instructed him to simply keep his back straight and take deep breaths through his nose and to release slowly through his mouth.

Lucas left on his bike a few minutes later with a few snacks and an extra bottle of water in his bag. Steve told him to talk to his parents about getting him a medical inhaler if he planned to stick out basketball for all of high school. Steve knew how aggressive those kids could be, and while it wasn’t always necessary it was helpful.

When he closed the door behind Lucas he went straight to the living room.

Where apparently everyone had relocated.

“Uh.. hey?” Steve waved pathetically. He had really no idea what to do with the 5 pairs of eyes on him.

“Ok? Um— seriously why are you all looking at me like that? It’s fucking freaky.” Steve curled in on himself a little, folding his arms and hunching his shoulders.

Robin was the first to shoot out of her seat on the couch. Steve was given no warning before he was engulfed in a hug.

“Oh? Ok—“ He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “What happened, Robs? You alright?” he asked from where his face was tucked into her neck.

She nodded, but it was obvious something was wrong.

When Robin let go she dragged Steve by the wrist to the couch and sat with him. He looked at everyone else settled in the living room and raised an eyebrow.

“This isn’t like— an intervention or something, right?” he tried to joke. Argyle seemed to find it funny at least. Steve smiled at him where he sat on the floor by the coffee table.

Then there was an arm wrapping around his waist from the side Robin wasn’t pressed against and Steve wasted no time leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“What’s up with you guys, huh? You’re quiet and it’s scary. I don’t like it.” Steve muttered the last part under his breath and more to himself. But Eddie squeezed his hip reassuringly.

“Nothing’s up, baby. How was everything with Lucas?” Eddie asked. Steve barely gave himself time to pause before he answered, “Good. He’s been moving a lot faster lately.”

He bit his tongue against the slew of words he wanted to spill about everything they’d done in that hour they’d been outside. Instead he said,

“Sorry. Totally ditched you guys for the ball.” He chuckled, trying to take the weight of the words off some. Eddie tutted.

“Don’t apologize, Steve. You looked like you having fun.” Came Nancy’s unexpected reply. Steve’s head shot up to look at her before traveling back to Argyle, who gave him a vague “go on” gesture with his hand.

“Uh..” He pulled his eyes back to Nancy. “Yeah, had a lot of fun. Um— you guys alright?”

Jonathan groaned and Steve watched Nancy hit him on the arm. They had a whole argument with their eyes before Nancy deflated. What the hell?

“Steve.” Jonathan started. Steve flinched slightly and didn’t relax when Eddie squeezed his hip.

He braced himself for the laughs, the jeers. Them telling him they didn’t care that he had fun and that they had to go.

“We’re sorry.”

Steve blinked. You’d think an apology that sounded so heartfelt would lower his inner walls a bit, but it only served to raise them higher. Because—

“What the fuck? Why?”

Jonathan rubbed the back of his head and let Nancy take the lead this time.

“For brushing you off.”

Steve blinked, his inner walls no longer rising but not lowering either.

“For not showing that we cared whenever you started talking about your sports and things.” Was Robin’s add-on from beside him.

Steve flinched and made to get up but remembered he was kind of held down by both Robin and Eddie.

“So this is an intervention? Guys it’s fine, seriously—“

“No. It’s not. Stop talking for a second and let us be sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie’s grip tightened again and Steve tried to find comfort in it like he normally did, but he was so uncomfortable right now it was unbelievable.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been apologized to. Not like this. Not with such sincerity.

It scared him, honestly.

“We’re sorry we didn’t bother trying to show interest in anything you did even though you always made sure to show interest in ours,” was how Eddie finished.

“Even with all the teasing you add in.” Chuckled Jonathan.

Steve found a bit of the comfort he was searching for.

He cleared his throat. “Um ok— so—“

“Not done.” Demanded Nancy.

Steve shut up.

“We’re sorry that we made fun of your interests and maybe made you feel like you couldn’t share your thoughts and feelings with us in fear of getting ridiculed.”

And good God if that wasn’t right on the money.

Steve swallowed against the tears that threatened to mist over his vision.

He laughed quietly instead. And maybe he looked like he was going insane but Jesus Christ— he couldn’t take this right now. He was not expecting a fucking apology after an hour of playing basketball.

What the fuck has his life turned into?

“Ok— done now?” he asked. And when nobody spoke up against him he continued.

“So um— thanks? For the apology? I guess— I guess I just don’t understand. Why are you guys apologizing when you didn’t do anything wrong?”

That got him a chorus of groans that made him curl into himself more. He hung his head and pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer, a nervous habit he’d developed in middle school.

“Steve.” Robin gently said. “We have every reason to apologize and fucking grovel.”

Steve wasn’t given a single moment to protest.

“Sweetheart, what did you do yesterday when I was talking about my campaign?”

Steve looked at Eddie funny. “Dude I don’t know— I think you started talking about it while I was cooking?”

Eddie nodded. “And then you told me to hold on while you put the lasagna in the oven so you could give me your full attention.”

Steve blinked dumbly, not quite getting it.

“That’s the bare minimum, Ed. You were talking about something you really liked so I made sure you knew I was listening.”

And oh wow. It just dawned on him.

“Exactly, honey. None of us— except Argyle, apparently— have been giving you the attention you deserve even though you give us yours no matter what.”

“Steve you listened to me drone about types of cameras and film last week for three hours and didn’t complain once. I know for a fact that shit was boring to listen to because I’ve been told so by both Will and El numerous times.”

Steve stared at Jonathan.

“Ok, sure. But I don’t see— I don’t get— I don’t care that you guys don’t listen to me. Sports are complicated and yeah sure it kind of hurts when you scoff as if it doesn’t mean shit—“

Eddie’s grip tightened considerably.

“—but it— I get it. You guys aren’t obligated to listen to my shit. I listen to you guys because I want to. Because I like hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. Like Nancy and that new article for the school paper about the different recipe for the meatloaf that makes it taste like dirt, apparently. Or how Polaroid cameras actually date all the way back to like— 1948. Or—“

“But that’s the thing, Steve.” Nancy cut him off. “You listen to these things and remember them because you want to. Because you’re a good friend and good friends listen. We—“ he waved her hand around to all of them “—have not been good friends.”

Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat while Nancy continued.

“The fact that you remember my exact words of calling the meatloaf dirt just proves that. Because we had that conversation, what? A month ago?”

“Three weeks ago.” Me mumbled uselessly.

Nancy sighed.

Robin sat up and took Steve’s face in her hands. “Stevie. We love you. So let us.”

And just like that, Steve was engulfed in a giant group hug.

He didn’t realize how much it’d affected him before now. How being scoffed at and made fun of— even if it was playful— hurt him so much that he’d just stopped talking about things.

When they pulled away Eddie kissed his forehead and Robin kissed his cheek. Steve giggled at the sudden affection.

…

Bonus:

The very next day, Steve saw the change.

Saw the change in how Eddie made sure to ask him about what he was cooking and then let Steve explain the process of a breakfast casserole. How Eddie simply smiled and even engaged with questions as if he was really interested. And maybe Steve didn’t completely believe he was interested, but that was ok. He’d come to his senses eventually.

Then at work Robin made a point to let him choose what they put on the TV for the day and didn’t even complain when he chose the Breakfast Club.

He was scared that they change would last no more than a week. That after some time they’d all go right back to how it was before.

But then a week passed. And two. And three. And then months we’re going by where Steve was allowed to rant and talk and argue about things like cooking and baking and basketball and soccer and volleyball and so much more because they would listen.

And then a year passed and it was April and it was his birthday and when he was surrounded by everyone— the kids, the older teens, even the adults— he opened a present and looked down at the book in his lap.

“Forever Amber”.

Steve will never admit to the tears that he cried that day.

…

Probably gonna do something like this with Lucas and the kids cause I love Lucas ❤️

Here’s that lol:

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blaithnne · 6 months ago

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Local big sister experiences emotions, more at 6

Been wanting to do one of these with Lauren for AGES, but I never got round to it. Then I saw the Lydia and Phinium expression sheets on @littledigits’ website and I felt inspiration like never before.

The funniest struggle I have with Lauren’s design right now is that she nose too big for she got damn face. Literally, Hilda characters noses take up a fairly small portion of their faces, and her’s took up WAY too much, leaving little room for her to make facial expressions. But I struggled to find a fix because when I made the nose smaller it just didn’t look like Lauren anymore, so I took this as an opportunity to work on that!

She still has a larger nose than most characters, starting higher up (like her grandad!) and ending lower down (but not quite as low as before). I also made her eyes a little smaller and with a shape similar to Lydia’s (though you can see in some of these I hadn’t quite landed on that yet and her eyes are a bit too big), which works both as a nod to her parentage and because I think it makes the nose look bigger. This still doesn’t leave as much room for the mouth as most other characters, but that’s okay — Lauren is a very private person who keeps her feelings close to her chest, I think it works for her to have subtler expressions, adds to how guarded she is! Oh and I also updated the shape of her hair slightly, just to make it a bit more style accurate.

These changes are pretty small on their own, but I think combined they work well to make Lauren feel a lot more…alive? Far less stiff, anyway. I think she also has a more unique facial structure now, instead of just “what if Johanna was 90% nose”. She’s still got a big old nose and I love it but now she can emote, yay!

This is really all just concept stuff, I’m hoping to get a new fullbody style-ref for Lauren out soon! Now that I’ve improved the main issues I had with her face in the last ref, now it’s onto the silhouette! I want her to read as more of a strong character (though it comes across decently in her current ref, I wanna push it more without being as exaggerated as Ahlberg, which is. A challenge for me lol), streamline her silhouette, and finally make her taller than Johanna like she’s always meant to have been <3 I made her shorter for so long because I thought it would help her read better as her daughter but you know what? That’s dumb actually, she’s tall.

ANYWAYS, thank you for listening in on the annual Lauren redesign, and to the artists behind the show for posting so much amazing inspiring show stopping concept work for free because it makes my autism worse /pos

#her hair will prolly need some slight adjustments to account for her blue streaks but that’s a problem for future Sadie #also #local Sadie can’t stop saying “’local person… more at six’#more at NEVER. STOP IT SADIE ENOUGH #oh and apolgoes 2 @littledigits 4 the tag I do not mean 2 bother u <3 #anyways these are not perfect! it’s my first time doing an expression sheet like this #but I’m proud of em anyway!#hilda #hilda the series #netflix hilda #hilda netflix #art #my art #digital art #fanart #doodle #Hilda oc #drawing #Hilda Lauren #Hilda fanart #don’t look too closely at the background I was very lazy with editing the template. which is also from littledigits blog #I will probably do more of these one day #I especially wanna work on her angry expressions lol cause if you’ve read plenism you know my girl has anger issues ✨#and she’s worked on the m since but.#she very much still has a temper so long story short her angry expressions are IMPORTANT I think lol #also the third expression on the top row? my favourite genre of Lauren expressions #just experiencing the horrors #oc #my oc #also the expressions are ordered weird I know but I couldn’t be bothered to line them up properly or in a way that makes sense alright shus

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magiturge · 9 days ago

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okay.. go my sheriff/hank ( individual and pairing ) headcanons / thoughts this is going to be really long, careful when you open it.

each dash is its own thing. for hank ( he / they / it / she is reserved. ) :

- hank is G01 / generation 1 grunt, but a particularly strange one in the sense that they are not a grunt. hank is a script. i headcanon hank as being the cannoneer / cannoneer script in the original marshmallow madness and how they are shown in the magiturge arena mode ending. i am on purpose ignoring that he was mentioned to be a G02 by swain.. hank is a script and as such behaves differently than everybody else because they were never intended to be a person or an entity. hank as the cannoneer script was intended to just be that, a placeholder with a face in the very early stages of nevada's creation and the nowhere. i started to lean into this headcanon a lot more when i saw a clip of krinkels answering a question regarding why the maker scribbles out hank in the cave drawings, with him saying "because he's a strange one. he's a very strange one. not really a.. not really a one with the identity as the maker understands it." ..i just think it'd be funny if hank was never meant to have an identity in the first place and was a function first before being a person. it's why hank is so down the straight and narrow about getting the job done, you gave him something to do and he will do it. i like to describe hank as being an extension of the machine itself as a script.

- hank's height, width and depth changes subtly to drastically with each time he dies and comes back. i like to keep his base height at 6'2" but if you were to linger around them for long enough, you might notice every so often that he seems a bit shorter than usual or a bit taller, or he has a bit more or less muscle somewhere. it's just a result of supply of material to sew him back together.

- hank harbors no sense of physical attraction to anybody in the sense of finding anyone 'hot', 'cute', 'pretty', 'sexy', etc. they see absolutely nobody as attractive in that sense and the most you will ever see in terms of complimenting appearances is with how much 'cool factor' there is to something.

- hank sees red. for them there is not really a black and white, a good vs evil, a grey area. everything is red in that everything and anyone can be a tool. it's not really a 'sees red and gets angry / violent' thing. everybody looks the same to it on a moral / alliance / loyalty point. it has no issue turning on you if you get in the way or alligning with you if you can work to the same goal it has.

- for awhile, hank behaved very npc like or average grunt like before the whole punching the boombox guy. a whole lot of no particularly violent activity until that incident and it being like the switch flip of 'oh wait. i dont really know why but i think ive done this kinda killing people thing before ( marshmallow madness ) but im really really enjoying it,' like it might be a natural thing hank knows to do. - almost all of hank's outfit is a diy project it works on when it is bored, parts are stolen during missions ( homes / clothing stores ) or straight from the garbage. in a sense that's how hank is gradually building an identity for themself.

∙ hank has no issue with dying itself, but it's a matter of what circumstance and how they die that will determine if that irritates it enough to come back. ( i.e some stupid rug pulling bullshit or getting a kill stolen by dying to something stupid. )

- much of hank's skin is discolored or outright not the same shade or tone as their original skin since they're a hankenstein of various people's body's now ( haha ). they're also missing some certain parts that don't particularly bother them. its more like accessory and so long as they have the necessary parts that won't cause them complications, it frankly doesn't give a shit if something is gone.

for sheriff ( he ) : - go my transgender bear. - sheriff self medicated with alcoholic and as a result, over the years became a functioning alcoholic. this is entirely based on the line of 'pass the whiskey' he has and also the whole.. debacle he's been put in. he smells always vaguely of whiskey as a result of this. he feels a bit braver drunk but y'know.. reality backhands him in the face again and he focuses.

- sheriff and jeb are not friends. at best they are aquaintances, allies by circumstance not by goal. sheriff is afraid of jeb and worries about pissing him off as it might mean he loses an ally and potentially gains an enemy if he doesn't comply with his orders ( i.e assisting jeb in plans like lending his men to deal with hank ). at this point in time, jeb seems wildly unstable and too zeroed in on his savior bullshit for sheriff to feel comfortable speaking up at all about not wanting to deal with this stuff anymore. sheriff was a normal guy first that had no intention of getting involved with this stuff in the first place until jeb pulled him into it with fear as a motivation. jeb isn't a friend, just a 'friendly-face'. - sheriff has gotten better at hiding his fear / non-fighter nature at least with the way he talks. the fear and the desire to live is always there but the way he presents himself feeds into how he is perceived. at the end of everything, sheriff is always running away from the site of conflict if he's in an unsafe spot or at a disadvantage. covering up his fear makes him appear very cocky and arrogant - sheriff's hair is long as well as his beard, it is like a mane. it's his pride and he tries his best to keep it well maintained but he's.. too stressed to keep it up all the time. there are some curly and wiggly looking hairs ( i don't know the right term for it ) sticking out, and some parts tangled and thick. he feels weird if he were to ask anyone of his men to brush it out. - sheriff is a lot better at fighting and defending himself at this current point in time ( mpn2 and ahead ) but he is held back by the fact he is worried about dying or getting injured in general. he's afraid of taking a risk and would much rather use traps and a whole lot of walls in the way. - sheriff likes to hum, whistle and sing quietly to soothe his nerves. unfortunately, given his desire to uphold a strong image, he overthinks that being heard humming or singing, even quietly, around any of the MERC units will have him perceived as too soft or an oddity. for this reason, he is usually found whistling little bits when he's actually roaming the MERC buildings and his humming and quiet singing is for when he's patrolling the industrial sector walls on his own. - he carries a level of care for the MERC under his leadership but has a confused relationship with his individuality and being a part of a group. he was a guy first and foremost and because of the responsibility that was put onto him by jeb to protect these people he feels an obligation to forego his feelings and emotional needs. as a result he doesn't really.. interact with them on a super friendly level as much as he would say, a stranger with a friendly chat. he sees them as just people to be protected, a group and not individuals. he can separate himself from them but he also cant. - the nutrient slop in a can he's been eating for so many years has dulled his sense of taste a bit. if you gave him something that tasted real, even as greasy as a goddamn burger his face would light up. hot food does things to your mind and you dont realize it until you've had it again. - sheriff and the industrial sector represent each other. with large walls and many defenses to protect himself but with unfortunate cracks and weak points created over time. there can be so many barriers but many pathways, many vents for someone to crawl through and find the weak point.

ok. go my old man yaori.

their entire relationship is a push and pull. - their relationship (?) is a secret for as much as they are capable of keeping it a secret. sheriff desperately wants to keep it a secret because he fears that his men ( MERC ) finding out could potentially get him exiled or worse killed for being a 'traitor'. he also doesn't want to lose that sense of safety and togetherness, a stable foundation for him to stand and walk on. it's why he kicks himself in the head about the whole thing because he knows he shouldn't be getting involved like this. - as i mentioned before, hank feels no physical attraction to anybody and that applies to sheriff as well. it feels nothing in terms of 'wow he's cute' or 'he's hot'. the times that it can be mistaken that hank finds something about sheriff that is cute in terms of physical appearance is for different reasons. for example.. sheriff blushing and hank responding positively to that is not because hank finds that image to be cute but because he understands that image to be a positive thing. if : sheriff is blushing, then : i did something good, since i understand blushing as something that happens when someone is flattered. it elicits a positive reaction from hank because he understands it as something good and beneficial, rather than it being found personally cute or pretty. - hank thinks that sheriff did have a sort of glow up and that he looks 'cooler' now ( i.e you don't look like a wimp anymore ) however he thinks that the absolute layering of clothes, body armor and ammo looks tacky as hell. he gets why sheriff is wearing all that but it could have better days. they do find the leather chaps sheriff wears to be the one thing that kind of look cool, so it has taken the liberty of messing with them a bit, with permission, to make them look a bit cooler. it likes leather. on the topic of what sheriff wears, hank also doesn't like what he's wearing because it makes sheriff obnoxiously annoying to fight in close combat. it'll swing at sheriff and feel the padding and get a bit irritated because he really is just layered in protection, no satisfaction that it normally gets from feeling the injury caused in a fight. ..hank knows that it'd be better to leave not too many injuries, but that doesn't stop it from being irritated when they trade punches and it can feel a bruise on the highway while sheriff likely hasn't gotten something so serious. it's the kind of bullshit it doesn't like. hank wears body armor and padding too but not nearly as much. - they're both at around level terms of fighting capability, it is their personalities and style that make the difference. hank does not like sheriff's style of fighting in the presence of other people watching whatsoever as he thinks it's cowardly and unengaging. he's always at a distance, rapid fire, itchy finger. it's like dealing with a turret with self awareness and a mouth to run insults at you. the bullshit bullshiiiit he doesnt like. it's why hank prefers the little spats they get in. - hank's biggest upside in their situationship is how direct and to the point they are, it really hates the dancing around the topic sheriff does. if sheriff is being particularly dodgy about something or acting differently or avoidant, hank asks directly what is going on. it figured out relatively fast that sheriff's cowardly avoidant nature applies to just about anything and it has to adapt to that. sheriff's biggest downside is his reluctance to vocalize his needs as he doesn't entirely perceive hank as a person yet, still seeing him partially as the man in the posters, meaning he doesn't believe hank is capable of accommodating, being affectionate, or being considerate of his needs.

- sheriff hates vocalizing or articulating anything that seems like proof to the world or himself of his affections towards hank. something simple as wanting to have an embrace, he does not want to say it. it's acknowledgement of his affections, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it. he would rather outright go for the hug or for hank to initiate it first. on the same note, neither of them say i love you to each other. hank doesn't particularly care.. it just sees it as another expression of affection and it doesn't find words to be as fun as actions. sheriff doesn't say it for the reasons above and it feels way too intimate for him anyway. it's like saying 'yes, hank j wimbleton most wanted person in nevada who has killed many many and killed me once as well, i lovey wovey you'. he feels stupid saying it. it's 3 words but he hears a lot more. - sheriff still maintains a grudge for having been killed by hank many years ago, it's sort of shallow now though. he already got even with hank at the start of this snowballing situation, as they had a spat and he shot them dead. - hank is the grounded one in the situationship, more mentally stable and.. decisively stable than sheriff. he often has to be very blunt so sheriff stops rocking around, thinking too hard about something. - they don't talk to each other that often but on the chances they do, they do have some.. detailed conversations on things. it can range from something mundane as guns, what attachments they like on theirs to .. more delicate topics.

- hank often returns to sq hq smelling faintly of whiskey and sheriff often returns to MERC warehouses smelling vaguely of rotting bodies and blood. they both have smelled each other and they both think they both smell like shit. when possible, sheriff will continuously nudge that hank go and bathe, though that means sheriff has to as well. - hank thinks sheriff is a bit.. like crazy? or at least not making the smartest decisions sometimes. he wonders why sheriff maintains really long hair even though he works around machinery a lot. hank thinks that he's beign a bit ridiculous for being such a worry wart and not doing anything about the glaring issue in his wardrobe. it has vocalized this issue and are usually met with sheriff giving him a bit of a dirty look. at the least, hank does like to touch his hair. sheriff doesn't particularly care that much about hank touching his hair, just that he doesn't cut it. it likes to feel the texture and pick out tangles, it gives hank something to do in a mundane slow time. - sheriff has one of hank's black bandanas. it let him keep it when sheriff as gotten a bit of a nasty slash during a spat they had together, hank had tied it around the wound and he let sheriff keep it. sheriff now uses it as part of his outfit from time to time. it alternates usually from 3 places : a hair tie for a low ponytail, tied around his arm, or most unseen, in his right back pants pocket. aaha. hheh. heh. ok i'm tired, there's more but big man wants to eat his damn ass food.. idk uh, my writing somewhat properly is escaping me

#my art #madness combat #big man ( me ) i srambling #and talking #about shit he like #ok #sherhank #sheriffhank #marshmallowpie #sheriff #hank j wimbleton #gif

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starryknight-tarot · 1 year ago

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𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓬𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾

pile 1 -- > pile 2 pile 3 -- > pile 4

my masterlist<3 . paid readings Hello beautiful souls✨Today we will be looking what your celebrity crush would think of you if you met. This might be a little shorter cause it's just for the kicks and giggles but if you meet your celeb crush you will know how they think about you lol. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. My readings are meant for everyone, no matter what sexuality or identity you are. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Pile 1 Cards: The Magician rx, Page of Wands, The Hierophant, Nine of Cups, Four of Swords, Four of Pentacles, The Star, Page of Cups Back of the Deck: Knight of Cups

Pile 1, I feel like your celebrity would really appreciate you. You may have liked this person for a really long time, like before they really blew up or even since the very beginning of their career. I feel like your celebrity crush acknowledges that they won't have anything of what they have now without people like you so if you were to meet, they would be really kind to you, I even just saw the imagery of someone kissing someone's hand so they may be very polite and like prince like(?). It's really cute it got me blushing lol. I feel like this meeting would be like a dream come true for you (obviously) but I feel like they may also be pretty excited to meet you and they would just find you pretty cute. I am getting that your celebrity crush would actually really like you, I feel like you would have a really nice conversation. I am being brought to a conversation I saw between the NCT member Ten and a fan that he was talking to over video call and I remember thinking to myself while watching their conversation, "Wow they are talking to each other like they are good friends or they already knew each other well.". I feel like you could have this kind of connection with your celebrity crush. Although, I do feel like your celebrity crush won't be able to look past the fan/celebrity aspect of your relationship. They know that there is a sort of power imbalance in your relationship or it may be that you will always just see them as this celebrity that is so cool and talented, and you may struggle to see the more human parts of them. You may also be a lot younger than them and they may see you in a more youthful way. For some of you, they want you to spend a little less time focusing on them and taking some time for yourself. But overall, they seemed to think you are pretty fun.

Advice Cards:

Make your presence felt You can if you think and believe you can Remember that in universal law, all is well and fair You are wiser than you think It's time to realize the blueprint of your soul Considerable and consistent effort may now be required You are greater than your story

Channeled Songs:

Pile 2 Cards: Knight of Cups, Nine of Swords, Six of Cups rx, Ten of Cups, The Sun, The Magician rx, Eight of Swords, Three of Pentacles rx Back of the Deck: Four of Pentacles

Ngl Pile 2, I'm picking up that your celebrity crush would be a little scared of you at first. For some of yall, you may come off pretty strongly and it might throw them off but I don't think thats for everyone (if yall are into the group TXT, there was this one girl that went up to Huening Kai at a fan sign and basically started throwing compliments at him and I'm sure he was flattered but it was A LOT, to the point that Beomgyu asked if she was a rapper cause she was speaking so fast, spirit keeps showing me this so I thought I would mention it lol) I am getting that they may be a kind of shy and timid person, even if they don't really seem like it and I feel like you have a really intense personality. I don't think this is in a bad way, it may be that you are loud, talkative, or just really energetic and I feel like this is a kind of energy your celebrity crush isn't used to. Their first impression of you just might be that they are nervous around someone with so much energy. I am also picking up for some of yall they are gonna feel shy cause they find you really attractive and they are afraid of making a fool out of themselves (aye go get em Pile 2). You may also have a pretty bold appearance (unique hair, colorful makeup, tattoos and piercings) and they may make certain assumptions about you from your looks but I feel like overall they are kinda blushing from your looks Pile 2. Yeah I feel like you would make them feel self conscious. Spirit keeps telling me that they would be learning a lesson from you(?). You would teach them an important lesson to nurture your inner child and to be authentically yourself. Your celebrity crush would see you as a really successful person, someone that is living life to the fullest. They see you as very independent and capable, like you could do anything you put your mind to.

Advice Cards:

A connection needs deeper attention You can manifest your heart's desire Give up resistance in your current situation Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide you You are moving beyond your old form. Congratulations! Complete the project or task. Something is calling for closure

Channeled Songs:

Pile 3 Cards: King of Wands, Three of Swords, The High Priestess, Seven of Swords, The Lovers rx, Nine of Pentacles rx, The Magician rx, Two of Pentacles, Back of the Deck: Eight of Swords

Pile 3, you would straight up remind them of their ex. That message came out the strongest as I was shuffling. Spirit is telling me it's mostly because of how you look, you have a similar face structure or hair style to someone that they used to know (wonder what the channeled song is lol). You could also resemble another celebrity or person in their life and they can't help but see you as that person, I feel like they would accidentally say that person's name to you. I feel like after getting to know you, they would be REALLY interested in you, like probably more interested in you then you are in them. Like Pile 2, I feel like they would also be pretty self conscious around you, although I feel like this would be stronger than Pile 2 because they would really want you to like them. I heard "Senpai wants you to notice him."LMAO. I'm getting that your celebrity crush would actually think about you a lot, they may even have dreams about you right now (although I am hearing some of yall have been using some spells to make them think of you so if you have, this is confirmation that it is working). Honestly Pile 3, I picking up that your celebrity crush may have a lot of internal problems that they need to work on and if you knew them personally, I would advise you to distance yourself from them to give them time to work on themselves. I don't think your celebrity crush is a bad person at all, but they do got some stuff they need to work through. I am also picking up a small energy that some of yalls celebrity crush would see you really cool and chill, specially someone they would wanna play games with.

Advice Cards:

Be sure to keep your promises, especially to yourself Reflect on the state and use of your personal energy Give up resistance in your current situation Create a plan and take the first step A connection needs a deeper attention You may need to take a break from the situation or simply take a rest Spend some time in stillness to reflect

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4 Cards: The Chariot, The Fool rx, The Empress, Two of Wands rx, The Hierophant, Ace of Pentacles, Ace of Wands, Ten of Swords rx Back of the Deck: Page of Pentacles

Congratulations Pile 4, this is the only pile I pick up on romantic feelings lmao. It's pretty cute honestly. I feel like they would be pretty awe struck by you but OH MY GOODNESS Pile 4. All piles have kinda showed signs that they would find all physically attractive but this pile is on another level. The mixer of The Hierophant and Empress, I just see straight worship for you like yall. They are on their hands and knee for yall. Spirit is telling me if they could, they would make a whole statue or painting or some shit to show off your beauty. They be simping for you Pile 4. If you were talking, their attention is ON YOU, they are listening to every words. They see you as SO talent and smart Pile 4, they would feel like you have a lot of potential to do really amazing things, they would probably do everything in their power to help you out. Although, they would feel like they won't need to do anything cause you are just so powerful. Your celebrity crush would be at a loss of words around Pile 4. I am picking up some of yall are on the shy and quiet side but they would find it really cute. A very strong message from this reading is that they wouldn't want a conversation with you to end. Spending time with you, they wouldn't wanna go home. I am feeling that if you met, they would probably make a fool out of themselves and look stupid but it would come off as kinda cute. This is actually one of those rare moments when I actually don't see any negative energy from this Pile at all, this pile has a very comforting feeling, and they would probably feel that way around you. Comfy and cozy.

Advice Cards:

You need to make the first move Change is being introduced into your life Act on what you know A powerful dream will guide you The issue at hand is about reflection. What is the mirror showing you? A change in attitude toward the greater good could be beneficial

Channeled Songs:

(really felt like I needed to add literally any song called Attention but this one felt the best with the energy of the reading)

Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

#tarot #tarot reading #pick a pile #tarot reader #pac tarot #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a photo #advice #celebrity readings #celebrity tarot #spotify #celebrity crush #love tarot reading #Spotify

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physalian · 5 months ago

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Juggling Multiple POVS (Writing Like A Movie)

At one point in a WIP, I had one character being held captive, two characters on a quest to bust them out, two characters racing to join the jailbreakers, four with no idea any of this is going on because they think they’re all dead, and then of those four, two split off on a side quest, and the remaining two also split off on various other tasks.

If you’re keeping track, that meant I had a book rotating between 6 different subplots and about 9 POVS at the absolute worst, and then about 4 subplots once characters finally reunited with each other.

It was… a lot.

Now this was never published so I don’t know how well it would have been received but it was a sequel and its predecessors received good feedback so I think I know what I’m doing.

—

When you’re committing to a book with Multiple POV, you’ve generally got two roads you can go down: predetermined narrators or ~cinematic~.

You can select a set number of characters to narrate regardless of how many exist in your ensemble cast, and no matter how many split off on their own subplots, those predetermined narrators will be keeping up with the story. These types of books tend to have shorter chapters and single narrators for chunks of chapters at a time with no cutting in between and fairly long breaks in between a character’s chunks of POV. Or, they have entire sections of book dedicated to them with clear markers between POVS.

The easy example here is Heroes of Olympus that I believe had up to 4 narrators per book despite a main cast of about 8 characters depending on the book. The first two were 3-POV, for each of the 3 questers, and then once the whole party was together the POVS were determined by who split off into which groups. Rather infamously, in my opinion, the last book of the series did not give a POV to the two legacy characters and the former protagonist of the first series, which was… a choice. I think the point was that Riordan gave them their spotlight in book 4 and was passing the torch to the new batch for book 5, but for many of us, who had no idea we’d never get a POV of these two again, it was mighty disappointing.

These books also had no chapter titles and instead had banner-style chapters where you had NICO or PIPER in massive banners over the start of each chapter, which was also a choice as going without chapter titles (or even numbers, they’re in roman numerals) makes it a lot harder to search things up in books 500+ pages long.

Who narrates when is less determined by who the most important character of the chapter is, for the most part. It might be Hazel’s moment, but she’s not a narrator of this book, so it’s in Piper POV (or Nico’s forced coming out moment in Jason POV which I will never forgive Riordan for). It’s just a dice roll of whoever it lands on which can lead to some moments, like the Nico incident, that really should have been in Nico POV, but the structure of the story demanded otherwise.

I don’t really love this style of multiple POV. Personally, I think it’s rather inflexible and doesn’t take full advantage of what MPOV can do. But that’s personal opinion so here’s some strengths:

It doesn’t jump around as much and with a minimal set of narrators, it’s more streamlined. You know what to expect going in with no surprises

It forces the author to get creative within the bounds of the POV they’re stuck in

The extra time with a single narrator can be a solid guide rail through a complicated plot piece

—

Or, you can write a more ~cinematic~ MPOV. I don’t know the proper term for this, if it exists, but this style of MPOV is when you basically free-for-all. Anyone can narrate whenever the scene demands and this either grants you a book with short chapters, but one narrator per short chapter, or multiple narrators within a single chapter, as you’d film a movie or an episode of TV with multiple perspectives per set piece.

This isn’t a random grab-bag of narrators. It demands a lot of restraint. This kind of MPOV is entirely based on who is the most important character of the scene, or who’s POV would be the most interesting to view the scene through.

ENNS is written in cinematic MPOV, with a far smaller rotating cast than the WIP I mentioned at the top of this post. It starts out slow with the protagonist for the first two chapters as the only narrator, then mid-chapter 3, I give a cue that he’s going to be unable to narrate the next bit, and I switch to my deuteragonist. I don’t give banner headings. I don’t give my characters entire chapters because the POV structure demands it. I just start whichever POV with the narrator’s name within the first 1-3 sentences. If that means one character has an entire chapter to themselves, then at this point in the story, their arc is the most important thing to be focusing on.

In the WIP at the top of the post, it was book 3 of a series which gave me some freedom. Namely that most of those 9 POVs were established characters you’d already be familiar with. I wasn’t throwing my audience into the deep end with 9 strangers and demanding they try to keep up with 6 subplots of equally confusing and unknown characters.

Cinematic MPOV should rely less on “who hasn’t narrated in a while let’s give it to them” and more “who would be the most interesting narrator for this moment”. You could have a villain POV, a one-off that might never narrate again, or a tertiary character who isn’t doing the most action in the scene, but has the richest commentary on what’s going on.

It does demand restraint. If anyone can pick up the narrator hat, then you could find yourself splitting off into unnecessary subplots. Not every piece of the story must be told and letting readers imagine what’s going on behind closed doors is sometimes better than detailing it all out. I could give a captive or missing character some POVS, or I could let the audience anxiously stew with the rest of the cast wondering if they’re even still alive.

In some books I’ve read, the deliberate choice to not let readers see into the mind of a character as they make important decisions, left on the outs with their friend or lover or relative, is maddeningly entertaining. They won’t explain themselves to the people who care about them, and they won’t explain themselves to the audience, either.

Or, you can let a side character have the spotlight for a scene or two as we see our favorites through their eyes, possibly in a way they’ve never been depicted before. A’s lover B might describe them as strong and brash. A’s old rival C might describe those same actions completely differently.

—

In terms of who narrates when, like the 9-POV monster I had going, I had key moments of every POV that had to hit the book's physical layout at specific times. Like episodes of TV, I needed certain scenes and moments and reveals to fit within specific chapters, not dangling off on either end.

I had to remember the time scale that all of this was happening on so every scene that was meant to happen simultaneously actually read like it was all going on at once. I had some chapters with the “A” group of narrators, then skipped them for a chapter for the “B” group of narrators for their scenes. Keeping the pacing as frenetic as it needed to be wasn’t easy, but if you can pull it off, I think it can be quite entertaining.

Some things to keep in mind with MPOV:

Don’t retread the same scenes or conversations. I read a fanfic a very long time ago that had I think 10 different takes on one character’s death with the dialogue copy-pasted over and over again and it was exhausting. If you want to have a character reflect on a previous scene, pull the specific lines as they remember them.

Unless messing up the timeline is the point of the story or you make it very clear that a scene happens before the present, don’t let POVs muck up the continuity. If plot happens on a Wednesday and the next scene is more important plot that happens that previous Tuesday, you might confuse your readers on when everything is meant to be happening.

Sometimes not knowing is better. Prequels tend to fail because whatever fans imagined happening is way better than what the writers explicitly show happening. Practice restraint.

Unless your story is paced very slowly, try not to have POVS butt up right against each other every time. In an action set piece, everything happens in sequence with zero black space between them. But a whole book with zero room to breathe can get tiring to read. Books with a single narrator have scene breaks and mini time skips, not every single part of your characters’ day has to be detailed.

If you don’t have banners, make it clear as quickly as possible who the new narrator is. Eventually, if your narration is distinct enough for each character, you can go a paragraph or two and your audience will know who it is anyway just based on how they think.

If these are all unknown characters, try to hop around minimally at first until you establish a clear protagonist, otherwise your readers might get lost on who the focus of the story is meant to be and lose which character is doing or thinking what.

*ETA: I forgot: typically with multiple narrators for a single “group”, like two characters stuck on a side quest together, I try to flip-flop their POVS. For example, if I have D and E with a whole chapter to themselves, the POV structure would go D E D E. To my eyes, it looks better, as they have equal share of the action. I try very hard to not let any one narrator have back-to-back POVS unless the narrative demands otherwise. But that’s just me.

—

This is personal opinion on what I think works. If you’re struggling on maintaining pacing or clarity with your ensemble cast, consider the above points. Hope this helps!

#writing #writing advice #writing resources #writing a book #writing tips #writing tools #writeblr #book formatting #pov #multiple pov #story structure

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amore-reads16 · 3 months ago

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Liam Mairi x fem reader

Overview- Liam and Y/N have been spending a lot of time together over the past few months and feelings between the pair have developed deeply however there is a betrayal under the surface that is uncovered leaving only heart break behind.

Note- okay so this is and idea that came to me and is meant to be like the turning point of an enemies to lovers story where the protagonist has been betrayed and finds out so mainly the feelings of hurt and betrayal. So yeah have fun with that one if you can! Also listening to I love you I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams might set the tone…

Liam had been missing from dinner which was strange as he always made time to sit next to you even if it was to talk about trivial things. Even though you had only begun properly getting to know each other five months ago there had not been one day where you had not seen to him, spoken to him, laughed with him and for the last few months exchanged and sneaked kisses in the hallway away from prying eyes. So for Liam to be missing from your side tonight was beyond weird. In fact he always was by your side you suddenly thought. Strange how one person can go from not knowing another to being completely and utterly consumed by them. It was a feeling you had tried not to become dependant on but the strange feeling in your stomach told you that you had failed miserably at that task.

After finishing dinner and having seen everyone else, including your friends and brother leave, you knew something wasn’t right. Something was out of place. It wasn’t just Liam missing from dinner you had observed. His friends had also been absent including Xeden Riorson, which yes was nothing new, but tonight was different- they were all gone. Finally picking yourself up from the bench you had been sitting at hopefully and wistfully waiting for the blond haired, bright eyed boy to stroll by in the cocky, childish way he usually did, you quietly exit to dining room.

Wrapped up in your thoughts you suddenly realise that your body has taken you to the outskirts of the building to a small garden that Liam often took you to- a place he called his ‘secret little spot, away from nosey people’. However it must not be that secret you think as you catch a glimpse of five hooded figures, some in incredibly tall and one shorter signalling a mix of men and women within the group. Using the stealth you have fostered from years of sneaking around your family home as a child, you creep around the corner within earshot of the group hiding in the dark shadows the crevice provided, curiosity taking over your mind. The voices are muffled of course, but there is one distinctive boyish voice that stands out. A voice that often soothed you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear now sounded serious, concerned and ultimately regretful.

“She’s different to what you think Xaden” so Xaden is one of the hooded figures, you think, makes sense.

“Liam, I couldn’t care less if she is an angel sent from the heavens herself- she’s dangerous. To us. To everything we’ve been working for.” Xaden replies. Who is she?

“So what? We just kill her? She’s innocent Xaden” Liam responds angrily. That tone is a tone you have only heard a couple of times. Never directed at you of course unless you do something stupid that puts you in harms way. Istead that tone is used towards people that disrespect you, sexualise you, try to hurt you.

Xaden tuts and lets out a short breath “don’t tell me Mairi that you’ve actually fallen for this girl.” Suddenly the identity of this girl is becoming clearer unless Liam has been cheating on you, which would be extremely out of character, this mystery girl the cloaked figures have gathered to discuss is indeed you.

Liam pauses for a long moment before answering and you swear you can hear your heart beat in your chest so loudly it will give your identity away. “No. Of course not” he eventually replies.

Heart ache consumes your body. Although you have never told Liam you love him and he has never uttered those three words to you, you have felt it. You have felt how much you love him and in return how much he loves you. And that had been enough for you. But now hearing him deny the affection you was sure he felt, your heart felt like it had been crushed under your own dragon’s foot.

“Her signet is just as dangerous as Aetos’. She is a valuable weapon for them, one they will never let go. Liam you know who her parents are. Her dad cut half of us down during the rebellion and her mother was the greatest healer of all time and it seems she is set to follow in her foot steps. Are you sure her signet is healing?” Xaden asks

“Yes. I have seen it. It is impressive but not at its full potential yet. She told me that she has been advised that is will manifest even deeper and only grow stronger. With the right training she will be able to heal a body that is on the brink of death” Liam says in a quieter voice then he used before- he almost sounds defeated you think as you refuse the sudden urge to scoop him into your arms and comfort him. Comfort the man who has just betrayed you and your secret. The man who has just signed your death sentence.

“She can’t ever expand her powers. It is too dangerous to have her running around healing everyone we try and take down. We will never win when the number of us decreases and theirs stay the same” another voice speaks and you immediately recognise it as Imogen’s. She has always hated you. You have always been able to sense it, see it in her eyes. Not that you blame her. Your dad killed a significant number of their people before he was killed himself, and your mother did nothing to help. She could have healed them all but yet she didn’t and kept on healing the men and women on the other ‘right side’ of the rebellion as your father used to quote to you.

“Liam you need to gather more information from her before we take her down. We need to know more about Aetos. They are still training together?” Garrick asks. So this is where they all were you think, instead of eating pie they were plotting your downfall. Liam was plotting your downfall. Betrayal curses down your spine. The heart break that had initially struck you has now been transformed into anger. Pure loathing anger. You gave your heart to that boy, you have everything up for that boy, and he used you. For information, for knowledge, for the secret you were swore to protect but gave away so easily to a pretty smile and twinkling eyes. Pathetic. You have been pathetic. But no longer you think.

“Yes they train every-“ he begins but you have had enough. Even if it gets you killed you cannot bear to sit here in the shadows, like a coward, another moment longer. Standing up Xaden immediately notices the movement.

“Shit. Shut up” he commands

“No need” you reply “I’ve heard everything” you emerge from the shadows that just before kept you hidden in your heart break. The anger you feel in this moment is a feeling you think you will never forget. To have loved someone and then been stabbed in the back by the same hands that held you at night. To have trusted in someone so profoundly only for your trust to have been built on lies and deceit. To have sacrificed your families beliefs, honour and status only to have them proven right and you painted as the naive love struck girl. It was sickening. It was transforming. Love turned into a bitter gall of hatred.

Storming up to the group, dagger in your hand, the faces of the cloaked figures run towards you but you can only focus on Liam’s surprised, hurt eyes. His mouth is agape and he somehow despite his betrayal looks guilt stricken. “Y/N please, I can explain” he pleads with his hands but you are not giving in.

“Keep your nerves quick one!” Rhella, your dragon encourages, as you focus on your movements ducking out of the way as Bodhi tries to restrain you followed by Imogen who you elbow swiftly in the windpipe chocking her causing her to fall to the floor gasping for breath. But that doesn’t matter as you have swiftly reached Liam and without hesitation you raise your dagger to his throat. Your breath is heavy. Your eyes are wild with anger. Your breath is ragged.

“Please let me explain Y/N” Liam says again

“NO!” You yell back and press the dagger harder drawing the slightest bit of blood. Perhaps you might have drawn more if it hadn’t been for Xaden’s shadows flinging the dagger from your fingers and Garrick restraining you whilst the others watch in shock.

Squirming in Garrick’s arms you try and wriggle free but it is no use, he has both your arms locked, and you suddenly begin debating if these will be your last moments on earth.

“Jesus Christ you came out of no where” Bodhi mutters helping a still winded Imogen up who has already set a deadly glare on you. Not that you care. She is the least of your concerns at the moment.

“Fuck” Xaden mutters as he places a hand on his head and begins to pace as if thinking very deeply.

“Let me go you fucker” you yell at Garrick.

“Shut your mouth” Xaden storms over to you grabbing your chin in his strong hand causing your mouth to shut immediately as he commanded.

“Xaden” Liam interrupts in a harsh tone almost as if he is warning him.

“Liam I think it’s best you leave” Xaden says in a low deadly voice making you shudder.

“No” Liam bluntly says causing Xaden to turn around still holding your chin strongly. “I mean- no I’m not leaving you to kill her in the middle of the bloody school. Do you know what kind of message that will send? They will know it was one of us or at least blame us for ease. We are done if you kill her now and you know it.” He says convincingly but the way Liam just coldly bargained for your survival without any compassion for you or your life causes a tear to roll down your face. He want a you alive to save their own treacherous necks. Not because he loves you and can’t bear to be in the world without you. Fucker.

“Well what do I do with her now then Liam ? She knows too much” Xaden says

Liam sighs and groans “just- just all of you go and leave her with me I can talk to her, make sure she keeps this a secret.”

Imogen lets out a shrill strangled laugh “and HOW are you going to do that Mairi? She won’t trust a word you fucking say now”

You let out a grunt in agreement to that statement causing all eyes to fall back on you. Usually Liam’s eyes are the only ones you meet however the darkness in Xaden’s are hard to look away from in this moment. He wants you dead, that much is clear, and you aren’t sure he is going to let you leave this garden without claiming your life.

“I’m going to talk to her Imogen. We clearly can’t kill her now” we is the word that stabs you “so we will have to keep her alive and on our side” Liam angrily explains finally walking forward to where you stand putting his body only a few inches from yours where Xaden still stands manhandling you. “Let her go” he tells Xaden. Xaden looks reluctant but lets go. The relief to have his strong hands off you is unmatched, and you are sure your jaw will be deeply bruised from the strength of his grip.

“Leave everyone” Xaden commands and although the rest seem reluctant to go they do. Clearly Xaden is their leader. Now only Liam, Xaden and Garrick, who is still restraining you, remains.

“Listen and listen closely” Xaden whispers “you will not utter a word of this to anyone. You will not let anyone know we are aware of your signet and you will not tell anyone what you saw or heard tonight” he explains blandly as if it was that simple.

“And if I do not comply” you practically spit at him.

“I will personally kill your brother. Jude is it? He seems sweet, naive much like you, but kind and caring. I will crush him with my shadows and rip his soul out of him” Xaden says- no hint of any emotion on his face making his words more haunting. “Do you understand me?”

Water swells in your eyes as you quickly spare a glance at Liam who looks mortified. How dare he? This is your life, your brother’s life that is at risk not his.

“Yes” you whisper.

“Yes what?” Xaden demands.

“Yes Riorson I understand and I will not utter a word to this to anyone” you reply.

“Brilliant-“

“On one condition” you add.

Xaden laughs but it is not humoured. It is bitter and hateful. “You aren’t exactly in the position to be making demands Y/LN” he grabs your chin again causing Liam to finally interfere somehow pushing his hand away.

“Enough Xaden” he says in a tone so demanding and sure it frightens you. “What is it you ask Y/N” Liam asks you.

You look into his eyes hoping to see some glimmer of what you used to see- love, admiration, respect. But there is only desperation. Desperation for you to not anger Xaden further.

“You must promise that you will not harm my brother nor me. You will let us both live despite whatever vendetta you unjustifiably have against me as an individual. I am not my family. I am my own person with the right to prove all of you fuckers wrong. Let me live and leave my brother be” you ask Xaden avoiding Liam’s penetrating gaze at all costs. To look into his eyes now would be to cry and look weak in front of the shadow lord in front of you- being weak will get you killed. So you keep your gaze strong, focused and unfaltering.

“Deal” Xaden agrees “but if you break this deal your brother will die and you will watch. Once you have processed your grief I will kill you also” he says plainly before signalling to Garrick to let you go which he does immediately.

“You have ten minutes then you both need to leave before we all get caught” Xaden says to Liam as him and Garrick turn around walking back inside not sparing you another glance, like you have now become worthless to them.

It is now just you and Liam. You and the backstabber. The silence is deafening and makes you want to cry. Liam sighs and attempts to reach for you but you step back wrapping your arms around your body as if to shelter yourself from anymore hurt he could inflict.

“Y/N” he says softly.

“Please Liam spare me your lies” you say, your voice raw and full of emotion.

“You don’t understand. I had to. Xaden needed the information and at first you didn’t mean anything to me but as time went on I started to like you and then I started to catch feelin-“

“Stop” you cut him off meeting his desperate gaze “don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare stand there and tell me that you felt anything for me whilst betraying me and lining me up like a pig to slaughter”

“I don’t want you dead!” He shouts “I never did! I- I- I love you for gods sake! I love you and don’t want you dead” he yells loudly.

You still. He has never said that to you. “It is amazing the lengths you will go to keep my mouth shut” you reply coldly “if you ever loved me you would have never have done this to me. Love shouldn’t include betrayal and you have betrayed me in the worst way possible.”

“You think I wanted this? Wanted to lie to you? To seduce you? To make you trust me? To fall hopelessly in love with you? I didn’t! But it happened and it’s real! I would have NEVER of let them kill you. You must know this” Liam sobs, he actually fucking sobs.

“I know nothing.” You say numbly “Infact that is a lie I do know this, I know that I now regret every moment spent with you, every word I spoke to you, every kiss I gave you, every night I let you have my body. I know that I hate you Liam and will never forgive you for this. I know that if you so much as look in my direction again I will not hesitate to kill you, consequences be damned. I know that I loved you and now I detest your existence” you deliver the lines with such confidence that you almost believe them yourself. Tears that you once shed have already dried on your face and your body feels heavy ready to collapse at any moment but you know you must stay strong.

“You don’t mean that” lean chocks out. Trying to come closer to you but you just step further away

“Get out of there quick one before you take back every word you have just said” Rhella warns and you heed.

“But I do” a hateful smile falls on your face “you fuck yourself Mairi” you say as you turn around ignoring Liam calling your name over and over. The last sound you hear his him sobbing and a thud that sounds a lot like a body collapsing to the floor as you speed walk to your room.

Making sure no one is lurking in the halls ready to rip you to shreds means it takes longer to get to your room but eventually you get there collapsing on the floor immediately as you shut the door. Your room still smells of him making it harder to breathe. Funny, you think, not only 24 hours ago the man you loved led in the bed in front of you and now that bed is empty alongside your heart. Only one thought manages to keep you going as you prepare for bed.

‘I will kill Liam Mairi if it is the last thing I fucking do’

#liam mairi x reader #fourth wing #xaden riorson #liam mairi #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #imogen temult #enemies to lovers #betrayal #anger

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maddascanbe-blog · 10 months ago

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Finally! I will say now that the class girls will likely take a long time as well.

Kagami's first and second looks here are meant to be her pre and post character development outfits.

Buckle in, this is a long (haha) one

Kagami in cannon is clearly designsed to resemble Marinette in a lot of ways, both are of Asian decent and have blue-ish hair and blue eyes. Both have freckles and even their suits share a very similar color pallet. At least Luka was different from Adrien in more than personality.

I didn't want that for my Kagami. I wanted her too look like more than a Marinette clone. So she gets to keep her freckles since my Marinette doesn't have any. Her hair is a darker color instead of a blue, and her eyes take on a stormy grey color. And of course their body types are different, namely Kagami is both taller and ripped.

Ryuko's hair is more blue since I gave the miraculous blue, white, and gold accent to match the weather pattern on her chest. Her hair get's shorter, pinned back and is a bit more wild. It's probably got some static. Little horns and some armor to keep her extra safe as well as further resembling scales. Her suit is closer to an orange shade than Ladybug's cool red. I almost switched her to blue since I agree with the sentiment that the dragon should have been blue. But red looked good too.

I don't particularly like any of the akuma designs for Kagami. I like Oni-Chan in concept at least (hate the name) so I decided to combine that with Riposte to create her initial design. Than she gets a pallet swap and a few thorny details to represent the rose. And Bara-Oni, literally just 'Rose Demon' I ain't creative, when Lila pulls her stunt. Which would have less to do with "How could Adrien do this to me," to "That bitch is kissing Adiren when he is CLEARLY uncomfortable!"

Kagami's personality is very similar to cannon, however her character still has some pretty harsh changes. Kagami has come to realse through Adrien and Marinette's friendship that she isn't very happy with her life. Her mother is trying to live through her, forcing Kagami to participate in fencing and putting pressure on her to perform perfectly in every aspect of life.

This comes to a head when she is given Longg. While sitting in the akumatized mech her mother became, all because she had the audacity to make friends, she actually waits long (haha) enough for Longg to explain the miraculous. When Longg explains the weapon he points out that she must be thrilled to have a sword. At which point Kagami has an emotional breakdown and sobs that she doesn't even like sword fighting. That she would rather learn hand to hand combat and that she's wanted to switch for years but her mother refused to hear it.

Longg says her can change her weapon to better suit her, and she get's armor and the abilitly to summon gauntlets when her power activates.

After having this break she and Adrien sit down and try and find ways for Kagami to feel more like an individual without being disowned at 16. Cutting/dyeing your hair and getting a Tattoo are two of the results, and since Kagami already has short hair and doens't really want to go shorter she gets the tattoo instead. Subtly referencing her time as Ryuko but in blue (her favorite color). And of course her mother is blind and doesn't know

Is it kind of shitty to abuse your mother's disability to use her money and get a tattoo? Maybe. But that's what you get for mentally and emotionally warping your duaghter to the point where she lies about her favorite color to please you. She, Adrien, and Chloe are in the "Our mom's suck" club together. Chloe will be collecting her for new wardrobe shopping.

#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug #ryuko #kagami tsuguri #kagami tsurugi redesign #ryuko redesign #miraculous fanart #miraculous redesign #miraculous re-write #riposte #riposte redesign #oni chan #oni chan redesign #dragon miraculous

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squintyeyedjoel · 7 months ago

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Through Your Eyes | Part 3 - In the Blink of an Eye (Joel x Reader)

A/N: So this is the rest of what was chapter 2, but I broke it up to keep chapter 2 shorter, and good thing, too, because I ended up adding a lot more. 🤣 Also, I know in canon the garage is a separate building, and I have a plan for that, so bear with me, please.

I do not own The Last of Us or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Oooo, this one’s a doozy as well, but in a different way than the last one. So many things. (Let me know if I miss anything.) 😮‍💨 Some more original characters, lots of canon violence and swearing, (this one is a big one. Like a lot. There’s a hefty amount of swearing.) mention of attempted sexual assault without detail, Reader is a badass. We round it all out with obscene amounts of fluff and humor between it all, sweet moments, and just soft things. It’s me. I can’t not. No use of Y/N.

Word count: 13,464

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for reading over this however many times it’s been now and fangirling over it when I was having my down moments. You’re the reason this still exists.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Next

Xxx

The next morning, your little band of six was up with the sun and making sure the horses were ready. Starting out with over fifteen, this smaller party felt like a speck of dust in the wind compared to the massive herd you were before.

Joel had introduced you to the remaining members, people he personally trusted, which from your brief time with him, you knew meant a lot.

First was an older man named Jack, closer to Joel’s age with graying hair and a laugh that was infectious. He was a whisperer when it came to the horses. Well, any animal, really. You could have sworn you saw a butterfly land on his fingertip when no one was looking earlier this morning.

He looked over both shoulders so slightly you almost missed it, but he did a double take when he caught your eye, a small smile spreading up one side of his face as you both watched the small winged creature take flight once again. Jack held his index finger it had been perched on up to his lips in a bid for your silence, to which you only pressed your lips firmly together and gave a single stilted nod to try not to draw attention toward either of you.

It didn’t work.

“What’re you doing?” Joel asked from your right, drawing out the words skeptically to match the raise of his eyebrows in question.

“Nothing,” you offered quickly, fastening your backpack closed and gathering the last of your gear before heading over toward your horse. Once your back was to him, you grimaced. That was much too fast to be convincing.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” he drawled sarcastically, mumbling something under his breath when you didn’t acknowledge him. Something along the lines of, “She ‘nd Ellie’ll be the death’f me.”

It was Jack’s whiskey that had helped Jane’s wound yesterday. He hadn’t hesitated offering his little hip flask out of a secret pocket on the inside of his jacket as soon as he saw the state she was in.

A man pulled you gently off to the side before you could make it over to Jane, Joel following quickly after you less than a step behind.

You didn’t know his name, just that he seemed trustworthy, and slightly tortured. His eyes held a closed off level of pain you’d seen all too often since outbreak day, once or twice in your own reflection, and you knew not to judge how a man chose to fight his demons.

So it was no surprise to you when he offered the stainless steel little demon chaser he obviously kept with him at all times, primed and ready. The liquid sloshed a little inside as he quickly tugged it from his hidden pocket. It was dented in a few places, worn and obviously loved. It had seen better days, but that was kind of the point…. It saw “better” days in order to help you see some better days yourself.

Or to help you sleep through them.

Whichever helped most.

It was the apocalypse.

Who were you to judge?

“Take it,” the man said, holding it out, his hand shaking slightly as he gripped the lifeline with just the tips of his fingers in a hesitant extension. “She needs it more’n I do.”

“Y’sure?” Joel asked, as you eyed the tremble of the man’s fingers. “Withdrawal is no joke, Jack.”

The man who you now knew as Jack’s features curled up in some sort of shame, then determination. He bounced the flask slightly in a renewed offer toward the two of you, his extended hand more firm as he worked hard to calm the tremors. “Neither is being stabbed. What she’s going through is worse than a few uncomfortable nights for me. I’ll survive.” Try as he might, the flask started to vibrate slightly, and he looked down at it like it had betrayed him.

And in a way, you guessed it had.

Reaching out to gently cradle his hand in both of yours, the tremors seemed to still for a moment. Holding his gaze, you took the flask from his grasp, not missing the way his grip tightened just a little before releasing it.

Withdrawing his hand back to his side after a delayed moment as if he had been shocked by some electric current, curling it into a tight fist and quickly stuffing it deep into his jacket pocket, Jack smiled brightly as he looked between the two of you. “Jus’ don’t shoot me when something crawls up my ass in a few days, Joel.”

“No promises,” the elder Miller grunted with a small grin, turning and ushering you toward Jane to make sure no one else interrupted you along the way.

Next was a younger man named Liam, who looked to be around Will’s age. Despite being new to patrols or going on runs and all they would entail, he was eager to learn and an excellent shot.

Turns out he’d also come from Texas, though was much younger when everything had happened, probably only twelve or fourteen years old on outbreak day, so you assumed he and Joel hadn’t crossed paths until later, somewhere closer to Jackson.

And you couldn’t help but feel like maybe Joel was playing a little bit of a favoritism card for his home state, allowing the much younger newbie to tag along with all the other more experienced travelers when he still had so much yet to learn. (You couldn’t blame him if he was. It was yours, too, after all.)

It wasn’t until you heard Liam mention how his family had worked for Joel’s contracting company ‘once upon a time’ - to which Joel had walked past grumbling something resembling, ‘I ain’t that old’ - that things started making a little more sense.

Less of the home field advantage, and more of the home grown kind.

It was becoming clear that Joel was a family man, although to be honest, that was obvious from the start. What you were coming to see was that family wasn’t all just blood.

And that was a decision he made long before the apocalypse.

That was just Joel Miller.

That was his DNA.

If you found yourself in his fold, you’d be okay.

Taken care of.

Even when the world went to shit and he ran into your kid thousands of miles away across the country when everyone was fighting against infectedâ€¦.

That boy would have a home.

You watched with a smile as Joel helped Liam adjust something on his rifle, then braced it on his shoulder and looked through the sights down the barrel with one eye squinted shut, before lowering the weapon and handing it back to the younger man.

Liam copied Joel before pulling away only a step to meet the elder’s gaze, and they shared some quiet words. Some muttered joke drifted to you about old eyes before Joel lightly cuffed him along the back of the head with a smirk and a smartass as he turned to leave, Liam grinning with a chuckle as he turned and secured his rifle to the side of his mount.

With your own grin pulling up your features, you turned slowly and surveyed the rest of the group as you stroked your horse's mane. “I think we may just make it, old girl,” you mused quietly, turning a skeptical eye on your mare when she chuffed at you. Rolling your eyes, you looked back to the group, and mumbled under your breath, “If Joel were a horse…. You’d be it, darlin’.”

The last newcomer to you was a woman named Kate, about your age, and a walking encyclopedia of every living thing in the forest. What you could eat, what you couldn’t, what was medicinal, what was flammable…. Before the outbreak she had been a nurse, and her skills were invaluable to have around on an excursion like this.

She had offered to help with Jane, but Will only let her supervise. No one could pull him away from the wounded seamstress. Under any other circumstance you would find it endearing, but at that particular moment, you found it anything but.

You tried to speak calmly, but the man was trying your last nerve. “Will, she knows what she’s doing. Let her help.”

He lifted his eyes to look at you from where he knelt on one knee on the other side of Jane, and you swore you saw tears brimming in them. If he blinked, you were pretty sure they would fall. But he hadn’t blinked as long as you’d been looking at him, which struck you like a bolt of lightning when you realized how long that had been. It was almost as if he was afraid to close his eyes. Like if he did, she would be gone when he opened them againâ€¦. Even if only for a second.

“I’m not moving.” He pulled his gaze higher to meet the sympathetic face of Kate. “But she can supervise.”

You began to argue again, but Kate put a hand on your shoulder. “That’s fine. I can do that.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “Let me go grab my kit, and I’ll walk you through it, Will.”

He swallowed roughly and nodded once, not looking directly at her, his eyes falling back down to look at Jane who hadn’t woken up since she’d passed out at the raider camp.

“You’re lucky she’s unconscious, or else she’d be giving you an earful right now,” you sighed, letting your weight slump back onto your seat. Resting your forearms on your bent knees, you studied Will cautiously as your head lolled to the right with a tired huff.

“I’d gladly take that over this silence right now,” Will said so quietly, you almost missed it. He held one of her hands in his own, so fiercely and yet cradling it so delicately, you couldn’t even begin to hope to describe it should you have to.

He maneuvered so her head was in his lap, and he peered down at her with a look you thought had died off on outbreak day. Something so tender, so soft, contentedâ€¦.

Come to think of it, you’d seen it on Joel a few times, usually when he was looking at Ellie, or Tommy, though the last was short lived.

Occasionally when he would look down at his watch, though that fluctuated between pain and this sense of peace and contentment.

Almost always when he was in his shop, tool in hand and project on the table.

And sometimes, when he thought you weren’t looking…. Like right now…. He had this look when he’d steal a glance at you.

Stealing your eyes over Will’s shoulder, you met the eyes of your current housemate, and instead of darting away like they usually did, he held your stare as he absently tended to his horse’s tack.

“It’s weird to see her so quiet….”

Will’s soft words pulled you back to the matter at hand. And you could have sworn you saw Joel grin in your peripherals.

“You’re gonna wish you never said that,” Jane mumbled, groaning as she rolled her head to the side, her face screwed up in pain. “Once I start going, I don’t stop.”

You grinned. “It’s true. She doesn’t have an off button.”

Jane reached out and whacked your arm. “Be nice to me. I’m dying.”

“No, you’re not,” Will said around his broad grin, maneuvering her head off of him so he could get beside her for a better view. The smile he gave her then was nothing short of brilliant. “Not if I can help it.”

Speaking of….

“Joel? Where’s Will?”

He smirked with a gentle shake of his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Gripping the reins of his horse, he clicked the side of his mouth quietly as he got near the creature's head, stroking it softly with one hand as the horse nickered at him.

You led your horse over toward him, reins pulled tight as the giant, powerful, dapple gray wonder named Delilah balked, digging into the earth and tossing her head side to side with a discontented snort.

She’s as stubborn as he is. Fact, I’m pretty sure they planned this. Conspired and everything.

“I plotted nothing with your horse,” Joel mused quietly, amusement heavy in his tone as you realized you said the last part out loud. “Only thing Delilah and I conspire ‘bout are sugar cubes n’apples.” He shrugged. “There’s the odd carrot talk here n’there, but….”

Joel sighed before you even really got moving, as if he were anticipating the whole thing. His head tossed back as he peered up at the sky as if to ask why.

Dropping the reins you closed the last few feet between you and Joel, arms coming to cross over your chest once you landed behind him. “Well, I’m gonna.”

Joel sighed again, resting his head against his horse’s, who let out a soft contented bray, before pulling back to look at you. “Will’s okay,” he said softly. “Now, leave it alone.”

“How do you know?” You swiveled to follow him as he walked over to gather your horse’s reins, shushing the large mare until she, too, was nickering at him, then he led her back over to you.

Joel shrugged, pulling his face tight in amusement as he placed the horse’s tack back in your hands. “Jus’ do.”

“If you don’t tell me….”

He mounted his horse with a groan. “I patrol with the man. I just know his little quirks, okay?” Looking down at you from atop his mount, Joel’s expression was unreadable as his horse stepped back and forth, eager to get going. He reached out to pat the back of the large chestnut’s head, muttering calming words. “Shhhh…. Calm down, Old Beardy….”

“Your horse's name is-”

“He’s not in trouble…. Yet,” Joel cut you off, sitting up abruptly, slightly wide eyed on the back of Old Beardy. “But if he keeps pesterin’ Jane like I think he’s wantin’ to,” his eyes narrowed in on you ever so slightly as he leaned back over his horses head to offer soothing circles of comfort on the side of his neck, “that could all change very quickly….”

You scoffed, arms across your chest cinching tighter. “Really?” They rearranged to your hips as you leaned toward him with each word, most likely for emphasis, but you weren’t entirely sure. “Was that a not so subtle dig at me to stop pesterin’ you?”

Joel shrugged, one shoulder going slightly higher than the other, as he sat back upright astride his horse and an amused grin started to pull up one cheek. “You said it. I didn’t.” With that, he nudged his horse forward, moving past you at a slow walk, and you could tell he was trying hard not to smile.

Xxx

Without Will here, the group traveled in relative silence. After a while, it became unbearable for you, and you steered your horse to sidle alongside Joel and his steed.

“Ellie told me Tommy was your patrol partner.”

Joel nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Usually is.”

You watched a butterfly fly in front of you, smirking as you glanced at Jack and found him already grinning in your direction. “So what changed?” You focused back on Joel and the road ahead.

Joel sighed, adjusting in his saddle. “He’s gonna be a daddy soon.” Your eyes bugged out of your head, making him chuckle. “Yeah, that’s ‘bout the same reaction I had.”

“Same reaction we all had,” Jack chimed in, making everyone laugh softly.

“I dunno. Seems like he’d be a good dad,” Liam posed.

“What makes you say that?” Kate had turned in her saddle to face the youngest of the group, her eyebrows nearly in her hairline.

“It’s just a gut feeling.”

“A gut feeling,” Jack agreed distantly, staring straight ahead. “And by that you mean the thought of it makes your stomach turn.”

As Jack passed by on your right, you reached out and shoved his shoulder lightly.

“What?” The man protested, looking at you wide eyed. “It’s true! Ain’t no way the words Tommy Miller and Daddy ever came up together naturally….” Jack grimaced as he turned back to face forward again. “‘Least not in any way I care to think about.”

“Watch it,” Joel warned teasingly. “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about, asshole. He may be a stick in the mud and about as sharp as two spoons trying to pick up pudding-”

Your face twisted in confusion as Joel took a breath. “Um, spoons could easily pick up pudding. That’s not an insult. You must be tired.” Joel turned his glare on you, and you simply grinned around it, continuing on. “I think you were going more for something like spoons trying to cut through stone?”

The group all snickered behind you as the two of you simply stared at one another, amusement hiding deep in your expression while annoyance clearly painted his.

“I concur with Liam,” you agreed instead after a moment. Joel huffed and turned his gaze on the young man who only shrugged in response before he was looking back at you.

“A Miller man an actual daddy,” you mused quietly, smiling softly as you stared straight ahead. “I don’t think the world could handle the awesomeness.” Looking back over at Joel, you expected to see him grinning at the playful banter, but instead he looked somewhat sad.

The same expression he had when he looked at his watch sometimes.

In fact, he glanced down to it now. It was brief, but you caught it.

It wasn’t the look Will had had with Jane. This was that sad, forlorn expression, like he was missing something. Like a piece of his soul was gone.

But as quickly as it came, it went.

Without a glance your direction, he pulled his eyes up to the path ahead and squinted as the horses pulled into another clearing and sunlight shone directly on his face.

“Yeah,” he finally gruffed, clearing his throat as he purposefully looked at the forest around him. “He’s gonna be great. Anyway….” He nudged his horse faster, seeming to head for the next pocket of tree cover a few yards away. But you weren’t that dense and could tell he was just trying to get away from the conversation, so you followed suit, falling into step beside him once again.

Joel sighed almost imperceptibly when he heard your horse's footfalls lining up with his own once again. You could have sworn his eyes rolled slightly, too, now that they were not squinted in the shade of the tall trees. But he went on regardless. “Maria’s been sick a lot more the further the pregnancy’s gone, so…. Told him t’stay home.”

Nodding, you kept your gaze forward, allowing Joel a respite from prying eyes. This was all a tender subject, and you still didn’t know why, but you could respect that. “Well, it looks like Will is a good one to take his place,” you mused quietly.

Glancing over, you saw how Joel’s expression brightened again, his eyes casting down to the ground like a bashful kid. “He’s alright.”

The group made it a decent ways, a handful of miles between all of you and the former bandit camp now that there were fewer of you, plus you didn’t have the cart to slow you down.

Even so, you still missed Jane and Will. They both added a quiet energy to the group even if they never said a word.

But they both always said plenty.

Joel had the group stop at an abandoned cabin on the very edge of the forest, letting the horses rest and grabbing a bite to eat from what was packed. Everyone was settled in and halfway through some sandwiches, when suddenly you could hear muffled galloping through the cabin walls. It was approaching rapidly in the distance, back in the direction you had come from.

The whole party sat up abruptly, food long forgotten as they reached for their firearms and listened closely.

“Everyone stay inside,” Joel mumbled quickly, striding over to the small fire in the cabin's hearth and setting his cup of water on the mantle, swapping it for his rifle already resting there, always within arms reach.

Jack and Kate cocked their rifles, clicking them over to safety and resting them across their laps while they remained in their seats by the fire, watching Joel head out the door. Once the elder Miller had passed the threshold, the door softly latching shut behind him, Jack clicked his safety off. Kate arched a brow at him, and he shrugged.

“Better safe than sorry.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “And if it’s nothing? And you get jumpy? What then?”

Jack huffed quietly at her whispered admonishment. “I don’t get jumpy.”

Casting her eyes down to his still trembling hands pointedly, she pulled her eyes back up to meet his and arched a brow. “Maybe you don’t, but that leftover whiskey in your system sure does.”

Flipping his hand under the barrel over to grip the armrest of the chair in an attempt to stabilize himself, Jack glared at Kate, but quickly turned the glare down to his hand when the tremor instead began to rattle the loose wooden pegs holding the seat together.

“Point taken,” he grumbled, flicking the safety back on before sitting on his practically vibrating palms, his rifle braced across his thighs. After a moment he hurriedly grabbed the rifle and rested it against the stone fireplace in front of him, sitting back on his hands and adding a bouncing knee to the routine. He looked at Kate and shrugged. “It’s gotta work its way out somehow.”

Turning away from the two by the fire, you spotted Liam still asleep in one of the long abandoned bunks in the cabin corner, and you couldn’t blame him. An actual mattress that hadn't gone to hell was hard to come by. You smiled faintly after remembering how he had plopped in it within five seconds of entering the structure.

“Anyone wakes me sooner than morning, clickers are gonna be the least of your worries,” he said, flat on his back and eyes already closed, followed by a contented sigh as he melted into the slightly redeemable box spring.

The dust particles that had filled the air in a violent swirl when his back hit the mattress had finally begun to settle. They floated through the lazy sunbeams that danced through the remaining cabin windows, dirty as they were, reminding you of lazy weekend afternoons back before the outbreak.

A lawnmower going down the street.

Kids laughing in the cul de sac.

The smell of barbecue from somewhere nearby, or just a fire as people stood round to watch it for fun in their back yard with a drink in hand and relax.

Not to rely on it for warmth like now.

For food.

Usually outside and in silence for fear of what lurked just out of sight.

You hadn’t thought about these things in so long….

Since before moving to Jackson.

Before Joel and Ellie….

Shaking your head, you shut your eyes to quit staring at the dust particles long enough to focus back on the matter at hand.

Liam. Hoofbeats. Focus.

Looking back at the peacefully sleeping young man, you grinned slightly. Shifting your weight side to side once, you sighed heavily through your nose.

Sorry, kid.

After absently adjusting the strap slung across your shoulders of the rifle you’d stolen from the raiders, tugging where it pulled tightly at the center of your chest, the weapon a heavy reminder at your back, you walked quietly over to him.

Gently nudging his shoulder with your left hand, you then held the index finger of your right up to your mouth to indicate silence as he stirred and began to ask what was happening in a bleary voice.

Liam turned his head toward you, his face screwed up like you had a flashlight trained on his face in the darkest of nights. “Who dares to distur-” The hand rubbing one eye froze mid swipe, and he stared at you with the other eye that was still exposed.

Suddenly fully awake, his palm trailed up to rest on his forehead as he blinked a few times then looked wide eyed around the cabin and saw everyone with their weapon either in hand or at the ready.

He sat up abruptly, his hand falling to his lap soundlessly as he continued to scooch closer to the edge of the mattress, miraculously avoiding every traitorous squeaky spring in the thing.

Once at the edge, feet still propped up on the tiny cot, he reached down seamlessly into his open backpack resting on the floor against the foot of the cot closest to his head, and pulled out a machete, bringing it up to rest on the bed beside him as he gave you a single nod.

It was a very Joel thing to do.

A snort of amusement pulled your attention back over your shoulder where you saw Jack looking on with a grin, nodding in approval. “Kid’s got the right idea,” he said just above a whisper.

“I learned from the best,” Liam mused around a grin.

“Yeah, Joel’s really been passing on some gems,” Kate said, looking slyly at Jack, and snorting in amusement when he turned a disapproving glare her way.

“The kid wasn’t talking about Joel,” he groused. “He’s my patrol partner, Kate. He meant me.”

“I actually meant Tommy.”

All three sets of eyes turned to Liam, before quiet snickers of laughter went around, the younger man beaming at the attention.

“Nah, I’m just joking.”

“We know,” Jack coughed softly, eyeing the door of the cabin when Joel still hadn’t returned, clearing his throat.

“I meant Ellie.”

This time the laughter was a bit louder and unrestrained, but still quiet. A thump on the cabin door was heard, then it swung open and Joel popped his head in.

“Hush!” He hissed to the four of you, the continuous growing sound of approaching hooves filling the following silence of his deathly stare. “You four are louder than a horde!”

The cabin door shut silently, but it might as well have been slammed with the finality it gave. The four of you exchanged looks.

“‘Least we smell better than a horde, though.”

Jack’s off handed comment made the rest of you snicker quietly as you tried to follow Joel’s request.

“Speak for yourself,” Kate grumbled. “Most of us do, ‘nyway.”

Jack and Kate shared another little stare off as the tension of the impending approaching hoofbeats grew closer.

Meanwhile, Joel had slinked around the side of the cabin outside for a better vantage point before the newcomer on horseback could get any closer. You were able to track him through two of the cabin’s windows before you lost sight of him. If he stayed on the path you’d last seen him on, then he would have made it just behind a pile of firewood and out of sight when the rapidly approaching horse crested over the tiny hill and came into view.

His footsteps were virtually silent, only the foliage crunching underfoot could give him away, and he was careful to not let it. Aside from one or two traitorous twigs that helped you all in the cabin follow his movements once he was past the windows, he was like a ghost.

Suddenly his footsteps shuffled carelessly, every leaf and twig breaking under his weight and being kicked to the side with little to no effort to mask his steps as he slid to a stop at the same time you heard a second male voice.

It was familiar as it yelled, “Woah, woah,” overlapping the sound of a horse breathing heavily as the galloping came to a stop. Then a thud as someone hopped onto the ground from a height, you guessed from the back of the horse, the foliage underfoot crunching from the impact.

You were so concentrated trying to place the familiar voice that had called out to the horse, you missed the pair of returning relaxed footsteps back toward the cabin. The low, muffled voices exchanged a murmured conversation you couldn’t quite make out even if you were paying attention.

The cabin door suddenly swung open, and there stood Joel, a grumpy look on his features, followed by an amused looking Will.

“Told ya he was fine,” Joel grumbled, holding your wide eyed gaze.

The other three members of the group let out a collective sigh, of what you assumed was relief, all of them stowing their weapons once again and settling back into the comfort and warmth that had been interrupted.

Will stayed outside to tend to his horse while Joel came back into the cabin, grumbling something about not signing up for this the whole way back to the fireplace.

As Joel passed behind Jack, he pulled the chair the older man was seated in back, making his friend reach out to stabilize himself before looking up at Joel skeptically. “And you do smell like a horde. Go use the rain barrel out back and clean up, ya ass.”

“It’s the shakes,” Jack mumbled, staring at the floor in embarrassment as he got to his feet before heading for the door. “They make me sweat somethin’ fierce.”

“Then use this as ammunition to never let the whiskey get you this bad again, Jack.”

Pausing halfway to the door, the older man looked up to meet Joel’s piercing expression, the embarrassment on his own melting away into determination. The two men held each other's gaze for a moment before Jack nodded once and headed out the cabin door.

“I’ll go with him. Make sure he’s okay.” Kate stood up, slinging her rifle across her shoulders and grabbing Jack’s from its spot still against the fireplace. “After everything, I’d prefer someone watch my back, too. Only fair I watch someone’sin return.”

Joel nodded and watched her follow after Jack. When the front door opened, you could see Will tending to his horse out front before it closed again and cut off the outside world. He, Jack and Kate traded muffled words before Will came inside, swiping his sweaty brow in the crook of his elbow with the sleeve of his outer flannel layer.

Once he got settled into the cabin, hogging a space by the fire despite a look from Joel as he adjusted to make room, and several pieces of beef jerky from the main stash despite you and Liam staring him down pointedly, an overly excited Will explained everything.

Hold your horses I’m getting to it! How he rode all morning …. Can someone pass me some water? I think I swallowed a bug on the way here …. after sneaking out of Jackson …. Jerky has never tasted this good …. to try and catch up with the group once again after …. Man, whoever built this fire did a good job. It is hot! …. after Jane ‘threatened to maim him’ if he didn’t get ahold of her sewing machine. Shouldn’t be too difficult.

He had a starstruck look in his eyes the whole time, and you were pretty sure it was because he was living out his secret agent dreams by sneaking out of town and back to the group, but it was especially evident when he talked about Jane, making you smile.

Does he realize he would have done it if she hadn’t even asked?

He was wrapped around her finger already.

Kate and Jack had come back in by now and were in their seats by the fire once again, watching Will with bemused expressions.

“We had to get out before dawn so the council wouldn’t put a stop to it. Things are crazy since we got back and those raiders wouldn’t say a word. Became freaking mimes.” Joel snorted in amusement.

“Security was doubled instantly after we told them about the threats, so I had to pay off the south gate watchmen. By the way, Joel,” he turned toward the older man, “they get to choose their next three patrols.” He shrugged at the exasperated look from the elder Miller. “Was all they wanted. I told them they had to be done within the next three months or no deal, and they said fine.” Joel arched a brow.

Will took a deep breath, wincing slightly like he didn’t particularly want to relay this next part.

“Spit it out,” Joel growled, adjusting in his seat in front of the fire to face it, holding his hands out toward the flames.

“The council aren’t too happy that you didn’t come back with everyone.” He looked around the room. “Any of you.” Then back at Joel. “But especially you, since you’re partially in charge of security, n’all.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Joel mused quietly, the side of his mouth ticking up as he continued to stare at the fire.

“They mentioned a disciplinary hearing once this is all sorted out.”

Everyone in the cabin groaned at the mention of more politics.

Everyone but Joel. He just grinned, rubbing his hands together in front of the flames. “Well, I think Ellie said it bestâ€¦.” He looked at you, then Will. “They can bite me.”

“Speaking of Ellie,” Will grabbed his backpack where it rested at his feet, pulled it into his lap and unzipped it, digging into its contents with purpose. “She was real worried ‘bout both of you when she heard what happened.”

He looked up, his hand withdrawing from the bag and gesturing between you and Joel with his index finger, then went right back to rifling through the bag, making one side of your mouth pull up slightly at his antics. “So she sent these with me.” Pausing in his search, he shut his eyes in exasperation and tilted his head back toward the ceiling. “Don’t ask me how she knew I’d be leavin’, before you start yellin’, Joel,” Will disclaimed preemptively, his voice tired already as he focused back on the bag, returning it to the floor and withdrawing two items. “Girl’s got a mind of her own.”

Will extended a hand to each of you, the one for Joel holding an old revolver that the man looked at fondly, his eyes softening as he took it from Will’s hand, and tucked it into the back of his pants. The younger man reached back into the bag and pulled out a bandolier lined with bullets for the gun that you’d seen Joel using his reloading press to make out in the garage a few times.

Ammo could be hard to come by, depending on the caliber, so when Joel happened on some reloading equipment on a patrol, he’d been ecstatic. It didn’t matter that he’d thrown his back out trying to get the heavy gear home. Stubborn as he was, he made it work, he and his horse somehow tag teaming the equipment all the way back to Jackson from who knows where. He had not allowed Will to touch it the entire way back, some stupid childlike claim waging between them like finders keepers or something along those lines - you’d stopped listening with a roll of your eyes as they’d bickered the whole way into the garage with the equipment.

“Come on, Joel. I helped you get it here!” Will’s voice carried from the garage, his breathing heavy as he tugged the makeshift sled the equipment was on the last few feet over the threshold.

“I said no! Now drop it,” Joel groused, the following silence after a loud clatter almost deafening.

“You said ‘drop it’,” Will said nonchalantly.

Joel’s hiss could be heard clearly all the way in the kitchen where you were doing dishes. “I meant the topic, not the tools….”

“Well, maybe I could think more clearly if I hadn’t just trekked thirty five miles with all that weight-”

“It wasn’t thirty-”

“Felt like it-”

“You’re acting like a child-”

“And you’re acting like a grouch-”

“Don’t test me, Will.”

“But grouch is nothing new for you, Joel.”

“Oh, just fuck off.”

“Make me.”

“Oh, I will….”

“Boys!” When you walked into the garage, the two of them were nose to nose, chests puffed up and about to bump into one another in a ridiculous display of strength. “Stop it. You’re both idiots.”

They both turned their heads to look at you.

“He thinks-” Joel started, overlapping Will’s “I didn’t-”

“What did I just say?” Your hands went to your hips in admonishment, brows knit together in an unimpressed glare.

Joel turned back to Will, a heavy puff of air passing through his nose before he smiled. “Fine. Finders keepers.”

Will scoffed in protest as Joel peeled off to start unloading the equipment.

“That’s not fair!”

“I said what I said. Now don’t touch my stuff, idiot.”

With a shake of your head, you left them to sort out their nonsense, letting the garage door close behind you and muffle their bickering as you headed back to the kitchen.

The night before you left, you’d seen Joel and Ellie out there together, working with the press as he taught her the basics of reloading. You wondered how many of those she’d made herself as you watched him take the bandolier delicately, holding it in both hands out in front of him like you would a newborn child. Practically cradling it.

The look in his eyes as he ran them up and down the lines of bullets, surveying each shiny casing, was much the same as that of a parent looking at their brand new precious offspring just after they’d entered this world. It was a look once adopted that never really left. Something a little precious, awestruck, filled with wonder and love, and a hell of a lot of pride.

You were ninety percent sure he was thinking about Ellie, and not the ammo, though.

Well, more like eighty percent.

Will cleared his throat to pull your attention back to him, jostling his hand still held out to you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, looking down at the offering.

You saw your yellow fanny pack being extended to you, partly deflated and sagging as Ellie had obviously removed all your tools you wouldn’t need on the trip.

When you took it from Will’s hand, an unexpected weight inside caught you off guard. Unzipping the main compartment once you’d clipped the belt around your waist, you pulled out a pocket knife you had seen Ellie flipping open and closed almost daily.

She was never without it.

….Except now….

….Because she’d sent it with you.

The room began to swim behind your unshed tears as they threatened to fall, but you blinked them away rapidly. This wasn’t the time for that. Nor was it the time for that thing catching in your chest as you traced the tip of your index finger over the worn housing of the blade.

After a moment, you looked up at Joel, and saw the surprise on his face before his eyes pulled up from the familiar pocket knife to meet yours, something like fondness taking over his features as they softened. “That’s her most prized possession.”

“Besides the garage,” you shot back, trying to speak around the emotions building up in your throat, clearing it in an attempt to rid yourself of them. A wet chuckle took their place as you held his gaze, your grip tightening around the pocket knife protectively.

Joel snorted, shaking his head gently as he looked back down to the bandolier. “Don’t start.” He slipped the ammo belt over his shoulders and across his chest, adjusting it minutely like a man would a tie on Easter morning.

It struck you for a moment how much life had changed since outbreak day. Men used to adjust their ties and now they adjusted their weapons.

These were thoughts for another day.

Setting the knife back in the main compartment of your pack, you dug out the rock Joel had given you to rest against your black eye from your jacket pocket, and really looked at it for the first time since he had given it to you.

It was smooth, almost perfectly round, yet flat enough to hold in the palm of your hand easily. A rich dark gray, almost black with white streaks running through one part of it that made it look slightly off kilter. As it caught the firelight, the white streaks glimmered slightly. They were some sort of crystal, barely the width of a sharpened pencil, yet still they decided to shine.

You wanted to be like that rock. Solid and steadfast, it knew what it was, until sometime when it was forming, something else came along to meld with it and left a mark, a scar, a blemish, and yetâ€¦. It was still beautiful.

Glancing up, you saw Joel already watching you curiously, his brow raised in amusement. Unable to hold his gaze, you shook your head slightly before looking back down to the bag, and tucked the rock in the main compartment right beside the pocket knife like you’d meant to do before you’d gotten distracted.

The sound of the teeth stitching closed as you zipped the bag shut once again acted as an anchor to your wayward mind.

“I’ll protect it with my life.” Looking back up, you caught Joel’s eye, and something unreadable passed across his face, his gaze fluttering down to the bag, then back up to meet your own, before turning to Will as they started in on another topic.

Holding out a hand to halt the conversation, eyes shut tight in confusion, you stopped them. “Wait, wait, wait.”

Ignoring Will’s exasperated sigh, you forged on. Opening your eyes, you peered at him with furrowed brows as you lifted only your index finger, gesturing to your left a few times. “Back up.”

He lifted his eyebrows at you in question. Bobbing your finger slightly as you continued for emphasis, you arched your own brows curiously. “‘We’?”

Faintly, in the distance the same direction Will had come from, you heard a wagon wheel squeak as it rolled closer toward the cabin.

After only a moment of exchanged looks in hesitation, Will refusing to give away anything, you all piled outside to see who the newcomer was. Just cresting over the little hill before the cabin came a horse with a rider moving at a casual pace, the cart from before that had taken Jane and the raiders back to Jackson being pulled along behind them.

Everyone smiled while Joel groaned and cradled his head in his hand when it was clear it was pulled by none other than Tommy.

“You guys have all the fun without me,” the younger Miller yelled good-naturedly.

Joel groaned a bit louder, starting toward the cart with determination. “Raiders n’infected’ll hear us comin’ a mile away with that wheel. What’d you do?”

Tommy scoffed. “First your hinges, now this? Why d’you always assume it’s me?”

Once Jack, Liam, and Kate saw who was atop the cart, and that he and Joel were quickly slipping into their usual ways, the three of them wandered back into the cabin, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes as the two men continued to bicker.

Will, however, stuck around for the show. He was a firm supporter of Miller Entertainment. So long as there was something to see, he’d be there.

Oblivious to the reactions of the others, Joel continued towards his brother, taking the reins of the horse he was atop as Tommy hopped off. “Because it is always you.” He handed the reins back to Tommy as he went to inspect the wheel quickly before they both returned to the now dwindling group.

“Well, you’re fucking welcome, y’old fucker,” Tommy grumbled teasingly. “This wasn’t my idea, anyway.”

You smirked. “Jane got to you, too, huh?”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “That woman is frightening.”

You and Will laughed, as Tommy looked between you with the same, wide eyed look of fear.

After a quiet moment filled with your dying laughter and Joel’s grumbling as he glared at the wheel, Tommy turned back to his brother. “I just want you t’be happy, Joel.”

Knelt beside the wagon wheel, inspecting it up close now that they were beside the cabin, Joel didn’t even spare his brother a glance. “Then leave me alone, you ass.”

Tommy unhooked the horse, and you led it over beside Will’s where the two men started taking the gear off of them to rest for the evening.

After a long moment of messing with the wheel, Joel turned his head up to Tommy from his perch on the ground, wide eyed. “Who’s watchin’ Ellie?!”

Tommy looked down at his older brother, hands on his hips, unphased. “Herself.”

With a shake of his head, Joel got to his feet and paced in a small circle with his hands on his hips. The two Miller’s looked like carbon copies of each other, and it made you grin. “They’re all doomed. All‘f Jackson….” He rounded on his brother, both of them squaring off with hands on their hips and a stern, stony expression. “What were y’thinkin’?”

You laughed. “You may not have your garage to yourself when we get back, Joel. She may take matters into her own hands.”

After turning his hard glare on you, he turned back to the wheel, wrestling with it for a moment and finally yanking out a small twig caught up in the mechanism, before standing back up and dusting off his hands with a dry, tight grin. “For everyone’s sake, she better fuckin’ not.” He nodded to Tommy. “‘specially him.”

“Why me?” Tommy scoffed.

“You’re th’idiot that left a teenager unattended in my house,” he groused.

“There’s not much she can-”

Joel just leveled a glare on him. “‘member when y’threw that party when mom ‘n dad were out of town, and I was watchin’ you?”

Tommy huffed. “That was so long ago, Joel, and she’s way different ‘n I was. She ain’t the social butterfly like me,” Joel snorted, “anyway, it’s Jackson in th’middle’f a goddamn apocalypse. What the hell is she gonna do that’d be so awful?”

They shared a look, something unsaid that had Tommy’s expression shifting to some sort of understanding. He softly amended, “I’m sure she’s fine, Joel.” He clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “She’s stayin’ with Maria, anyway.” Tommy grinned at Joel’s groan. “I’m not entirely useless, big brother. I thought’f all that. Maria’ll make sure she gets t’school n’eats n’bathes….” That understanding passed over his face again, turning it to something soft, along with his tone. “She’ll be a normal kid, it’ll be fine.”

Tommy’s tone took on a teasing nature. “Besides,” he smirked. “That girl offered t’take my patrol shift for a week if I told you she was on her own.”

Joel’s eyes went wide as he stared at his brother, the shit eating grin on Tommy’s face only growing wider.

“My guess is for that very reaction.” He pointed at Joel, wagging his finger gently. “But of course I said like hell. She ain’t goin’ on patrol. No fuckin’ way.”

Joel visibly relaxed, his eyes closing in relief before they flew open and back on his brother with a skeptical brow raised. Waiting.

“So instead,” Tommy went on, smile only broadening, “she offered t’take my shift muckin’ out the stalls in the stable for a week. Somethin’ ‘bout ‘it’s all shits and giggles, but now instead it’s shits for giggles’…. I don’t know. Half the time when she speaks it’s like another language.” He was grinning like a fool by now. “Reminds me ofâ€¦.” That same look of understanding passed between him and Joel again, only this time something heavier seemed to carry underneath. His voice softened. “She’s a good kid, Joel.”

As they sat in their shared moment, you decided after a minute to break the silence. “Too bad you didn’t tell him, then,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Tommy turned to you. “What d’you mean?”

You couldn’t help the smirk. “I didn’t hear anything ‘bout her bein’ on her own.” You turned to Joel. “Did you?”

He was grinning softly. “I didn’t hear nothin’. What ‘bout you, Will?”

Looking over at Will, you saw him grin like a cat with a canary. “Not a peep.”

Tommy sighed. “You bastards.”

“Takes one t’know one, ya idiot,” Joel hummed under his breath, turning toward the tack for the horses that had been set on the wagon to move it under the makeshift barn that had been set up for the evening.

“You’re so mean,” Tommy groused half heartedly as Joel passed by, pouting his lip out in an attempt to garner sympathy from his big brother who just turned to him and wrinkled his nose up at him in disgust. The younger Miller mimicked the face and lightly shoved the shoulder of his older brother, causing him to stumble sideways.

“Boys!” You called out, grinning when they snapped their heads your way in unison. “You’re how old again?” Turning toward the cabin, you called over your shoulder toward the men, “I’m just sayin’…. But just for shits and giggles….”

“Ah, shaddup,” Tommy called over the laughter of the other two.

The rest of the party had just stepped out of the cabin to see what all the fuss was about, when suddenly there was a very high pitched yet muffled sneeze from behind you.

Knitting your brows, you turned to Kate who had just walked past. “Bless you?”

She looked just as confused. “That…. Wasn’t me.”

You turned to Joel. Only making it as far as to open your mouth and take in a breath before he cut you off.

“Ha ha, very funny, darlin’. Wasn’t me.”

Another attempted assasination of a sneeze sounded from the back of the cart under a tarp, and all eyes went to it, staring in disbelief.

Liam was the first to break the silence after a long moment. “Did that tarp just sneeze?”

A very quiet and muffled, “Ow,” came next, and you’d know that voice anywhere, no matter how squeaky it currently was.

Your feet were moving before your brain was fully processing what you were doing, carrying you toward the cart.

Jack was quick to chime in behind you, with an entirely necessary, “Did that tarp just talk?!”

A second female voice, this one much younger and sarcastic came from under the tarp, dry and droll, “Nice going, blondie.”

Joel’s eyes went wide. They pulled up to meet yours where you now stood on the opposite side of the cart.

He moved so fast, you could have sworn he had super speed. He was on top of the wagon wheel and ripping the tarp back to reveal your stowaways before you could even blink.

To be fair, you were only half a second behind him, ripping the tarp off the rest of the way from the other side.

In the dying light of the day, Jane and Ellie blinked up at the two pairs of eyes peering down at them from around the edge of the cart, looking justifiably sheepish at the attention. Five more sets of eyes appeared slowly, trickling in as they realized what was going on, only adding to the squirming of the two stowaways.

You were the first to break the silent little stare off. Holding the gaze of your friend, you hissed quietly, “What are you doing here?! You just got stabbed! Are you crazy?!”

Jane wasted no time in coming to her own defense. “I told you!” She tried to sit up quickly, and hissed when her wound protested at the movement. Before you could even reach out to offer help, Ellie was quick to help her sit up fully, putting Jane’s arm over her shoulder to ease her into the right position slowly. She spoke through a grimace, “I want that sewing machine, and I’m gonna get it!” Her eyes opened fully, her voice strong. “Come hell or high water.”

After you let out a strangled puff of air through your nose in aggravation, hand still held out to help coming back to land on the edge of the cart with a smack, all eyes turned to the teenager beside her.

Ellie merely shrugged, Jane’s arm still over her shoulder rising and falling with the movement. “I’m just here for the show.”

Xxx

Your small party sat outside around a campfire, milling about as the evening wore on, tending to the horses and other menial things before everyone was set to take off in the morning.

Will would not leave Jane’s side. He was her human crutch. Literally. He helped her hobble around, and from the look on her face, she was about to shove him to the ground and run, damn whatever happened to her wound.

He was a sweet boy, but a girl needed to pee in peace, stab wound or not.

“Are you going to chew my food for me, too?” She snapped as he broke a piece of beef jerky down into smaller pieces for her to eat.

He just stared at her for a moment, frozen.

“I’m injured, not broken.”

Will nodded after a long pause, looking down to the jerky in his hands as they rested in his lap. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is just really tough stuff and I didn’t want you to hurt yourself trying to rip it apart.”

Jane sighed. “No, I’m sorry.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate all the help, I really do. I’m just a really independent person, and this…. All this needing help…. is driving me nuts.” Her hand fell down to rest on his. “Maybe we can compromise?”

He looked up and met her eyes with his own, smiling broadly. “I’d like that.”

Jane nodded once. “First things first,” she popped a bite sized piece of jerky in her mouth from the pile in his hand. “I get to pee without an escort.”

“But what if-”

“Will, I swear to God, don’t make me-”

“Fine! Fine, fine,” he held his hands up by his head in surrender, jerky flying every which way as he forgot he was holding it. He peered at it on the floor in disgust. “Oops?”

Jane had a sour expression on her face, her nose wrinkled up. “That’s yours now. Mmmmâ€¦. Floor jerky. Yum.”

You’d tried to return the pocket knife to Ellie now that she was back, but she wasn’t having it.

“Since you’re here, go ahead and take this….” Unzipping the main compartment of the fanny pack, you extended the pocket knife she’d gifted to you toward her.

Ellie lifted a hand, shaking it as she took a step back. “No. I don’t need it.”

Cocking your head to the side in question, you bent your elbow but kept your hand out, letting the pocket knife rest in your palm between the two of you. “You need something to protec-”

The teen pulled out a machete from a belt along her hips you hadn’t noticed before. Holding it sideways, she tilted the blade side to side, letting it catch the dying light of the day and the errant twinkle of firelight. “Liam already hooked me up. I’m good.”

You snorted. “But this is yours-”

“And now it’s yours,” she countered. “….for now.” Her cheeks flamed pink. “I want that back.” A look of determination came over her features as she jut out her chin to look down her nose at you. “So you better not die, Miss Fanny.”

Grinning, you tucked the knife back into your pack. “I’ll do my best, Sparky. I’ll do my best.”

Ellie grimaced. “Sparky?”

Zipping up your fanny pack, you looked up at her through your lashes. “It’s what you remind me of.” Once the knife was secure again, you lifted your head to look at her fully. “A spitfire.”

Her grimace deepened. “But Sparky? That’s like what you name a dog or something…. Or elderly men like Joel.”

Joel, who was only a few feet away tending to the fire sighed heavily, obviously listening in, before he chuckled lowly.

“Then what do you suggest?” Your arms came up to cross over your chest, weight shifting to rest on one leg as your hip popped out to the side.

“I dunno….” She looked at Joel. “He’s The Contractor,” she said it in a ridiculous voice, making you giggle, “so can’t I be something cool like that? Like, I don’t know…. The Lumberjack…. The Carpenter….”

“You have to do all those things to get those names, smartass,” Joel chimed in, not even bothering to turn around and face the conversation.

Ellie stuck her tongue out at him.

“The Artist….” You offered, smiling when you saw the lightbulb go off behind her eyes. Nodding once, your grin grew when her own started up her face. “The Artist it is…. Sparky.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sour look her face instantly took on.

Tommy leaned back in his spot beside Joel with a loud groan, a mischievous grin starting up his face. “I just call it like it is. She’s Trouble.”

Ellie gasped, whipping her head over to look at him as her arms came to cross over her chest defensively. “And after I didn’t lump you into old man Joel territory over there.” She gestured to the elder Miller with a bob of her head before setting her sights squarely on the younger sibling once again.

Tommy shrugged demurely.

She glared at him, the ferocity of her expression causing you to chuckle softly as Joel let out a low whistle. “You’re dead to me, old man.”

It had dwindled down to just the two Miller’s, Ellie, and yourself. Everyone else was inside the cabin, tucked in and tightened down for the night.

“Come first light, we need to get out of here,” Joel mumbled as he leaned over at the waist, poking the fire with a long stick to rearrange the logs that had turned to coals before adding a few new fresh ones. He turned his head to peer over at you, then set his gaze squarely on the redheaded teen who sat across from the two of you, palms extended toward the fiery heat and her eyes studiously on the flames.

“The council isn’t gonna take long to put two ‘n two together, and I want as much distance ‘tween us when they actually do so we can just get this damn thing over with.”

Rising to his full height with a quiet groan, he didn’t even seem to register Ellie slapping her palm to her forehead and rocking her head back and forth in disbelief as he glanced down at you where you sat against a log to his left, his face twisted slightly in trepidation. “…. I didn’t mean-”

“No, I agree,” you nodded once, pulling your eyes from staring at the fire to look at Ellie in amusement before lifting them all the way up to meet his with a small smile. “Bleeding heart Miller over here probably got the town on red alert.” Bobbing your head to gesture across the flames where Tommy leaned against another fallen log beside Ellie, you grinned at Joel’s haggard sigh as he took his brother in.

Ellie turned to look at the older man with a disapproving scowl, one side of her upper lip curling back as her eyes swept him from head to toe. You could see every Joel mannerism she had picked up on as she surveyed the younger Miller, and it took everything in you not to comment on it.

Turning back to the subject at hand, you tilted your head to the side as you took in the sleeping giant.

Tommy’s legs were outstretched with one crossed over the other easily at the ankle, hands clasped loosely in his lap, and head tilted back as snores that grew with each attempt tumbled out of his lips.

“Not to mention they’ll raise the alarm when they notice Ellie and Jane’re missin’, too,” you added, watching Tommy begin to mutter softly in his sleep. You tried not to let Ellie’s wide eyes that snapped to you affect you from going on, not able to bring yourself to meet them. “Not to mention Will.” You looked up at Joel as you spoke softly, his own gaze meeting yours. “Tommy’s one thing. All four of ‘em?” You shook your head as your gaze fell back to land on Tommy. “All four of ‘em’s gonna set off all kinds of bells.”

“Not to mention a missin’ cart,” Joel grumbled, turning toward Tommy with a scowl that made the corner of your mouth tug up just slightly. You noticed in your peripherals it had Ellie grinning, too. “Which requires a horse….” He tugged off his gloves from tending the fire and tucked them into his back pocket with unneeded aggression, shaking his head. “Stealin’ all kinds ‘f’things, aren’t we, little brother?”

Joel sighed yet again, this one quieter and more to himself than anything, before taking a step over towards his sibling and kicking the bottom of his shoe with the toe of his boot. As Tommy sat up abruptly with a snort, making Ellie choke back a laugh, Joel eased to the ground beside you with a groan he tried to hide behind tightly closed lips. “Get up, mighty warrior. Get inside with the others. I’ll take first watch.”

“Wasn’t asleep,” Tommy mumbled dejectedly, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand.

Ellie scoffed. “Dude, you sounded like a buzzsaw ate a bear. You were totally one hundred percent snoring.” She got to her feet, brushing off the front of her pants, then the seat.

“You were sawing logs, cart thief. Now get.” Joel jerked his head backwards toward the cabin. “‘nd keep an eye on Trouble here.”

Ellie glared at Joel, but quickly turned her attention onto Tommy, helping him to his feet. “Come on, Uncle Tommy.”

“Told you not t’call me that, weirdo,” Tommy grumbled, blinking too many times against the firelight as his eyes still adjusted to being awake.

The teen threaded her arm through his and helped to stabilize him, starting toward the cabin. “That goes both ways, asshat.”

“Y’know what? You’re rude,” Tommy mused, pulling away just enough to look down his nose at Ellie.

“And you’re old. Now come on, cart thief.” She started to pull him back toward the cabin, looking over her shoulder and winking at you. She looked at Joel and offered a small salute before facing back forward and giving the man a tug that sent him stumbling forward slightly. “Beddy bye is just a mere few steps away.”

Tommy mumbled something nearly unintelligible, but you thought you caught the name Sarah, not missing the way Joel stiffened at the word, staring into the fire in front of him, and Ellie looking back at the two of you over her shoulder with a somewhat panicked expression.

The teen focused on Joel for a long moment, her features pulling into something sad, then determined as she looked at Tommy and finally yanked him toward the cabin, pulling him along by his ear until they were safely inside.

As Tommy slowly got to his feet and ambled toward the cabin with Ellie, you smiled, always enjoying their banter. They obviously loved each other despite how they bickered.

And whatever this Sarah talk was, clearly it was something important, but it didn’t feel like the right time to ask about it yet. Maybe someday.

Joel glanced down at his watch briefly and cleared his throat before tugging the sleeve of his jacket down to cover it. Once the material was over the broken dial, he placed his palm over the shattered face through the fabric and rubbed it gently back and forth for a moment, staring at the flames before softly shaking his head as if coming out of a fog. He lifted his hand off the watch and set it on his thigh, his fingers gripping his flesh a little too tight and dimpling the denim under his touch.

It was then you made the connection that Sarah had to do with the watch. Somehow. And you knew that had to do with home. Texas. Back on outbreak day. The thing he missed the most.

You didn’t like where this was going.

Catching Joel’s eye, you leaned back into the log once again. “Mind if I join you?”

He just blinked for a long moment, making you grin and settle back into the log even further, letting your head loll back slightly. “Let me clarify. Mind if I stay?”

Simply shaking his head after a minute, Joel turned back to the fire after staring at you for a beat too long. “Don’t mind.” He was mumbling. “You’ll probably be bored silly, but so’ll I, so, I guess that makes me selfish.”

You snorted a laugh. “No, no. It makes you human.” Turning to the flames, you felt a different heat on the side of your face as you noticed his eyes on you again out of the corner of your field of view. He stared for a moment too long to be deemed just a friendly curiosity before Joel cleared his throat, looking down at his boots before his gaze quickly pulled right back up to you, painting your skin in varying shades of heat as you felt his eyes trace over your features once again.

Something about that heat was much preferable to the little pile of coals inches from the tips of your shoes. Much more comforting, too, considering where your mind kept wandering to. “Can’t quite get to a place my mind’ll let me sleep, anyway. Not after everything….”

He nodded in understanding, and you saw his face turn back towards the embers after a last lingering moment of taking you in. The trail he had traced on your skin with just a look still felt warm and pleasant, but now began to cool under the loss of his attention. You found yourself angling slightly to lean just a bit closer to him to try and make up for it, catch just a wave of body heat. It wasn’t working.

“How’d y’learn all that?” When you arched a brow at him in question, Joel pointed back toward where everything had happened with the raider scumbag, and the general direction of Jackson.

Turning your eyes from him to the fire, you stared at the flames as they crackled. “I don’t want t’talk about it.”

“That’s fine,” he drawled softly, lowering his hand. A moment passed before an even quieter, “But that don’t come from nothin’.” He jerked his head toward the direction this time. “We’ve all got our demons. Hell, I’ve got too many t’count.” He turned back to the fire as you turned to look at him again. “N’most’ve us’ve killed our fair share. That’s just life now-”

“No,” you interrupted him, focusing back on the heat of the flames and away from the fire in his eyes as they landed on you once again. “That I’ve never done.” You waited a moment before adding a quiet, “Least not yet.”

A memory, sparkly and worn, something you’d viewed time and time again as it haunted your every quiet moment, awake or in the dead of night began to tiptoe behind your eyes.

A voice you’d rather forget drifted to the front of your mind, clearer than anything else, as if it were right in front of you yet again.

“This is just how things work now.”

Night seemed to be its favorite, though; when your defenses were at their lowest. It’d come slinking in like a thief, ready to steal your sleep, your sanity, your time….

The rest of a phantom conversation began to play in the theater of your mind, unbidden and loud, consuming anything else in front of you in favor of its wicked games once again on repeat.

“I said no.” Your voice was weaker than you ever wanted it to be as you struggled against hands that had always been helpful, but now they only sought to keep you still. Angry tears threatened to crack your resolve with every word.

The next thing you knew his gun was out of its holster and in your hand aimed at his stomach. How it got there, you still didn’t know. It must have jumped.

Telekinesis.

Something.

It’s the only thing that makes sense. Because the alternative is that you grabbed it voluntarily, and that was a road you were not willing to travel down.

A sneer of disbelief colored his face as he held his hands up in surrender, looked down to the gun, then to you, eyes narrowing as he chuckled softly in amusement.

“You wouldn’t.”

He moved toward you, whether to move the gun or move you, you didn’t know.

You’ve analyzed it over and over again for years, and this is the point where it always goes black, blissfully giving you a respite from the rest of the gory details.

The echo of the hammer on the revolver cocking back in prime to shoot echoed in your mind then just as much as it did now. You remembered how the sound filled you with a grim satisfaction, a smirk crawling up your face now that was too terrified to even try then.

Blissful darkness continued to fill the next moments as you were lost in the memory, absently staring at the fire in silence, until a resounding phantom gunshot echoed around the walls inside your head when Joel said your name, making you jump.

When he said it again, the concern swelling in his voice made your breath stutter.

Blinking the darkness away, you saw the fire once again come into focus in front of you, and out of your peripherals, Joel leaning forward beside you, tilting his head to the side in question as he tried to catch your eye. His features were drawn cautiously.

Pulling your knees up closer to your chest as a chill ran down your spine that was from anything but being cold, you gave him a sideways look before turning back to the flames. “I’m fine.” You wrapped your arms around your legs to hold them tightly to yourself.

“Y’look it,” he teased.

Cutting your eyes his way, you found Joel smirking slightly at you, but his eyes still held concern as they studied your face, then made a run up and down the length of you, pausing on your hands briefly.

That’s when you realize you’d clenched them into fists so tight, you had indentations from your nails on your palm when you released them. With a sigh, you turned your stare back to the fire. “I’m fine, Joel.” Repeating the words didn’t help for some reason, so you continued on. “I…. I’ve never killed anyone, but….” Tilting your head back and pulling your knees tighter to your chest, you looked up at the stars. “I’ve come damn close once‘r’twice. Too close.”

“You don’t have t’talk abou-”

“The first person I lived next to in a QZ,” you started, smiling gently at his attempt to give you space on the topic. “He didn’t like the…. What did y’call it? Smelly noise?”

Joel scoffed in amusement, meeting your gaze as you lowered your eyes back onto him before staring toward the fire again absently.

“Came over after about a week t’tell me so, and I guess somethin’ in the way I said hello sounded like an invitation-”

The man stiffened beside you. “Y’know that’s not-”

Reaching out, you rested your hand on his forearm. “I’m kidding, Joel. I know I didn’t do anything, the man was just a pig.” You looked at him. “But thank you, though.” Turning back to the fire to find the words again, you took a deep breath. “Long story short, he tried somethin’, told me it was just the times we live in now, so I grabbed the gun he was wearin’ and threatened to teach him how no means no.”

A snort of laughter left Joel along with a gentle shake of his head as he too stared at the flames, giving you the space to finish your story.

“He didn’t think I would do it.” You went silent. The next time you spoke, even you could barely hear your own voice. “I probably should’ve. He went on t’do it to many others after me. Joined FEDRA. Should’ve seen that one comin’.” Clearing your throat, you shook your head and went on, voice a little stronger. “I shot him in the foot. Well, first I fired a warning shot to the side. He made some stupid comment about how he likes them crazy and lunged so I….” You made a finger gun with your left hand, pointed at Joel’s foot to your right, and imitated a shooting sound. “He gave me so many nicknames after that. So colorful. You crazy bitch, and-”

“I think I can paint a pretty clear picture, no need t’go on,” Joel said softly. His voice was gruff, not towards you, but the situation you’d found yourself in and the man with no name.

You nodded. “He’s why I left. After he joined FEDRA, he made my life hell. Made sure I got less ration cards, blacklisted me, caused all sorts’f problems. So I used what I had left t’pay someone to smuggle me out’f the QZ.”

“Nothing’s happened out here?”

“You mean outside the QZ?” He nodded. “No. I mean besides some infected, but I don’t count them. They’re technically already dead; it's just the fungus at that point. If we’re splittin’ hairs.” Looking out at the tree line, you sighed forlornly. “I used t’love mushrooms.”

After a second of silence, Joel burst out laughing, a low gravelly sound rumbling from deep in his chest. It vibrated you from your spot next to him, your very bones seeming to resonate with him. He was under your skin, and that made you smile.

“Y’know,” he started after a minute. “I just heard ‘bout the most Texan come out’f your mouth in the last five minutes than the whole time I’ve known you.”

“The most….?”

“‘I’ve come damn close once‘r’twice,’” he mimicked your words from earlier, emphasizing you’re lackadaisical grammar.

“Pfffft,” you blew out a huff at him. “Did not,” you countered, pushing his shoulder slightly.

“You’re slippin’” he teased with a grin, watching the flames.

His smile was contagious. “I’m just comfortable, is all. Comfortable and tired.”

“Oh good gracious, there it is again.” He looked at you mischievously. “Tired.” He drawled the word ridiculously now.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I do know how to shoot a gun, Joel.”

He nodded once in understanding. “Yes, ma’am.” Quickly turning his eyes back to the fire, he glanced back up at you only once briefly, the side of his mouth twitching up before his eyes fell back down to the wall of heat.

As you sat around the campfire, it had dwindled down to just the two of you. You watched him as the firelight reflected in his eyes, a small smile continuing to pull up his face as he stared into the flames.

“What?” He asked after a minute, pulling only his eyes up toward you, his head still angled down. “I got somethin’ on my face?”

You snorted. “Besides your age, which you wear brilliantly, by the way? No.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled. “Thank you? ….I think?”

Grinning, you leaned your shoulder into his before sitting back upright. “You’re welcome.” Despite having sat back how you had been, the sides of your arms now brushed one another’s, and neither of you made an effort to move.

“So.”

He finally turned his head to fully look at you. “Yeah?”

“Why are you so opposed to Ellie moving into the garage?”

He sighed, glancing over his shoulder toward the cabin before looking out across the small camp toward the tree line. “Ugh, not you, too.”

“Is there something you’re worried about, or is it just…. Puttin’ your foot down?”

Joel heaved another sigh, eyes darting back and forth along the trees as he stared at them absently. “It’s…. I don’t know.” He paused, letting out a breath before taking another deep one as he started again. “We…. We went on a really, uh, tough trip together to get here. To Jackson, I mean. All the way from Boston. It’s been a rough road for her.”

“For the both of you, it seems,” you offered quietly. He looked at you and you shrugged. “You traveled together. If it was hard for her, it was for you, too. That’s just how it goes.”

“Yeah, I….” He looked at the flames. “I guess so.” He smiled softly before it faded. “I guess I just don’t want her that far from me.” He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers, the tips of them dancing along the band of his watch before he closed his hand around the worn fabric. “Not yet.”

“It’s five extra steps, Joel.”

“I can keep an eye on her better down the hall.”

“You walked across the country together, a few more steps won’t break you.”

“You don’t know that,” he objected quickly, somewhat defensively, meeting your eyes again with his own as a dry chuckle painted the last of his words.

Smiling softly, you leaned further into his side slowly as you looked into the dwindling flames. “No, you’re right. I don’t.” He began to relax, his shoulders rolling forward as his weight slightly melted into you, staring at the flames once again himself. “But I’d like to think I’ve come to know you.”

Joel froze, his body tense once again as he listened to you go on.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you saw the firelight dancing across his face, sending him into all kinds of shadows. It could have been a trick of the light, but he looked almost nervous? His eyes were definitely apprehensive, and once you noticed that, you lowered your gaze down to his lap where his hand was once again digging into the fabric of his jeans.

“I don’t know what or who happened to you, and I’m not asking for details, that’s up to you. What I am saying is….” reaching up and across, you rested your left hand on his left forearm where it continued to press into yours with each deeper breath either of you dared to take. A small smile worked its way up your features as you saw his hand relax and unclench against the denim, his palm coming to rest on your knee instead. “You’re on a supply run for a teenaged girl to get paint. And to me?”

You turned just enough to catch his eye, finding his gaze already on you. When you realized that, you had to really think to remember what you wanted to say, swallowing roughly to remember how words worked as your eyes flicked between his own, your voice now something incredibly soft. “To me that paints a beautiful picture.”

Joel scoffed, his eyes studying your face for a long moment before he turned back to the fire that was now mostly coals, and started laughing. The sound started quiet but grew with each new round until it was a truly ruckus thing. “That…. was truly awful. And you say my puns are bad.”

You grinned as you sat back upright, pulling your knees tighter to your chest so you could rest your chin on them. He kept his palm on your leg, letting it ride just a bit above your knee and squeezed. “I have a bad influence. My roommates? Awful. All the time. Horrible, horrible puns.”

“Oh, really?” He arched a brow at you, giving your leg still in his grip a small teasing shake.

With a sigh, you tilted your head to the side to rest on the backs of your hands on your knees, studying him and trying to keep the damn smile off your face. “Yeah, they think they are so funny, but it’s really sad.”

He tilted his head back, looking down his nose at you in amusement. “Well, maybe you should teach them a thing or two.”

You grinned. It was inevitable. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”

Xxx

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