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#and that is neither useful nor sustainable

jewreallythinkthat · 4 months

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Sometimes I genuinely wonder if we should go back to calling antisemitism "judenhass" to stop hiding what it actually is. And the only things that stop me pushing for this is 1. It's not fair on the Germans to use that as the global term (same idea as not naming diseases after places) and 2. It means the antisemites who are trying to redefine literal words to erase their meaning, win. Like antisemitism has a meaning and if you are pulling the bullshit like about "XYZ are semites too" then you're not just an antisemite, you're also fucking stupid

#jumblr #antisemitism #one page of google results doesn't make you an expert #go outside touch some grass and talk to an actual jewish person #and not JVP or NK. stop tooenising people you agree with #life isnt fandom. people are dying so take it seriously for once #if its too much to listen to and read about suvivors stories then you arent in a good enough place to talk about whats going on.#i dont want to gatekeep but if you refuse to look at what happened and learn the history down to the gory details #then your uninformed opinion is neither wanted nor needed nor useful #if youre not actually doing what you can for sustainable peace then shut the fuck up

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oddshroom · 10 months

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𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝

𝚂𝚈𝙽𝙾𝙿𝚂𝙸𝚂: You had no regrets as a jujutsu sorcerer, so why should you now?

𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼𝙴𝚂: Unrequited love, pure angst, hurt/no comfort, character death, slight spoilers, Various!JJK x Reader, Gojo Satoru x Reader

𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 3,377

“Shoko”, your voice hoarsely called out.

You felt your chest rise and fall as you drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep your breathing steady. She looked at your body which had been leaning against the rubbles of broken down buildings, far from where you currently were had been two special grade curses which had burned away. You were just holding on as she did everything she could to prevent you from leaving. Her eyes still hadn’t moved, staring at the ground beneath her feet like she was hypnotized.

You watched her for a few more seconds before calling her name out again.

“Hey, could just sit with me?”, watching as she bit her lip before walking towards you and taking a seat on the firm ground next to you. You knew she needed to get up and do something. But then again, what else could she possibly do? Your mind was just starting to function and become aware of the impact your body had taken, it didn’t matter now. You couldn’t feel anything waist down, Shoko knew that.

“Be here with me in my last moments, yeah?”, the words left your lips in a whisper, but they were loud enough to carry. You smiled slightly at her, knowing she couldn’t bear to look at you. “Don’t say that, you’ll be fine”, she said suddenly, she was clutching onto your hand.

She was lying to herself, she was lying to you. She knew very well the injuries you sustained would kill you, the blood loss was heavy and no one was around to help. Not even her. And neither of you deserved this, nor would those who find out. You weren’t supposed to end up like this, which is what she wanted to say. “Ieiri, it’s okay it isn’t your fault”.

It took her a few minutes before she could muster up some words, her shaking grip became tighter on yours, almost painfully so. “I know...I don’t want to leave you...”. Tears started to form in her eyes, but you knew she wouldn’t cry. You knew that if you cried then you might lose control of yourself too, and neither of you needed that right now. You tried hard not to cry too. Taking in a deep breath, “How are the kids?”, you asked her softly, hoping her mind wouldn’t go to the idea of you eventually passing away. She gave you a shaky smile. “They’re good, they all are safe”. You nodded, smiling a little.

“Instead my shirt is a pocket, it has something in there”, understand that you wanted her to take it out. She carefully undid the front of your shirt, you were wearing another shirt beneath it, looking for what you wanted she reached for the pocket, her fingers felt a photographic film. Pulling it out, she sees that the objects in her hand were two photographs. “I wanted too look at it for the last time”, your smile slightly wavering into a sad one.

The first photo had been from the time of when you all had been in the Jujutsu Highschool, it was a image inside an arcade area at a popular mall on Tokyo. The image depicted Gojo losing to Geto in a fighting game, with Geto high-fiving Shoko while you had comforted Gojo all while trying to hide your laugh. Shoko smiled dryly at the image, she wasn’t the one to reminisce in the past only to talk about it if you or someone else from back then had brought it up.

She heard a snicker beside her, despite the situation you were still laughing. “I still remember when Geto milked out all the money Gojo had for the week”, you said while looking fondly at the photo. Shoko looked at you with her tired eyes, unable to fight the small smile forming on her lips. “Yeah, and then Gojo begged us for some money even though he’s rich”. Shoko looked fondly back at the picture, her eyes shining with memories. She shifted her hand so it would be between the both of you.

“Do you still remember when Gojo forgot to cast the veil?”, you ask with a chuckle. “Gojo was doing everything he could to try distract Yaga Sensei from it”, Shoko said thinking back on the memory before laughing. “Especially since we all just pointed at him”. You both couldn’t help but snicker at his misfortune.

“Geto wouldn’t stop teasing him about right after”, you said. “Geto..”, said the brown eyed girl. You glance upwards, “You ever wonder what it would have been like if things didn’t turn out the way they did?”, you said curiously. Half of your face had been covered in blood, you could feel it dripping down from your chin onto your clothes.

There was a long pause, Shoko thought for a moment. “Yeah”, she finally answered. She turned to face you, a faltering smile on her lips. “We all would have been happier, you would have been really happy”.

“Really what makes you think that?”, asking her in genuine tone. “Because you would have finally had what you wanted”.

A cough left your mouth, you knew what she was implying. It was the one thing you didn’t want to think about. “You can’t lie Y/N”, Shoko said. You closed your eyes, sighing. You opened them again, facing her directly. You shook your head, “No”, you admitted. “But, I really hoped to say it one day”, you said looking her dead in the eye, making sure she knew that you meant what you said. “However now, I can never say it personally”. Shoko was confused, what did you mean?

“What?”, urging you to continue you with your words. “In my apartment, when you enter my room go to my desk”, you paused before continuing. “The drawer which needs a key has two albums inside”. “The photographs of our time inside and out of Jujutsu High”.

Quickly taking in a breath, “There’s an envelope in which I confess, give it to him”. You looked at her with pleading eyes. “You kept all the photos?”, Shoko asked wide-eyed. “Of course I did, I thought it would be nice to think back”, you said thinking back to when you first had the idea. “However this picture is the last one I hadn’t put in yet”. Shoko didn’t dare say a word, she couldn’t believe you were going never to be able to confess, only through a little over a decade ago.

“He’ll love it”, she whispered, her throat closing up as she realized what you were planning on doing. “Just promise me one thing”. Shoko looked at you waiting for you to continue. “Tell them I loved all of them”. She could only nod at what you said.

“The second photograph”, you groaned out. Shoko brought forth the second picture putting the first one behind it. This one being of the new first and second years. “I’m glad I got to see these one last time”, you let out short breaths.

Shoko noticed your breaths become regular by the minutes, your chest was falling slightly faster all while your organs were slowly shutting themselves down. Shoko shifts so you could rest your head on her, the blood was now soaking up the white material of her coat, becoming damp in your blood.

“When I first met Yuuji, I felt terrible for the kid being put for execution”, grimacing at the statements the higher ups had made. “He’s bright and still has room to grow”, you smiled. “Nobara, despite her direct and indirect insults she is bright and determined”. “Lastly Megumi, comparing himself with Yuuji although they both are different”. Shoko continued listening to your rants about them all. “They were all like my kids you know”, you expressed fondly. Shoko knew you loved all of them equally and they loved you. You were there to help them, protect them, and keep them safe. “Although Megumi believed I would replace his mom which was his reasoning to avoid me, I always thought he was my son even if he didn’t think so mom or not”, remembering how he would do anything to avoid talking to you or even meeting you.

The dark haired boy had eventually grown to love you months after meeting him. He relied on you for more things then he ever would with Gojo. It felt as if you had made your own family with Gojo and Megumi, Tsumiki eventually came into the family as well. Making the entire family complete. However Gojo just simply thought you both were their guardians and nothing more. It hurt at first, considering that you liked him instead you brushed it off. In your own world inside your mind you all were a family. Delusional.

Shoko sighed, “It’s been a long time since we’ve talked like this, hasn’t it?”. You nodded. “It’s almost impossible not to, especially now that I’m dying”. Shoko stared at you in disbelief. “You’re not dying!”. But you just laughed. “You think I’m immortal? You think I won’t die? What about those Special Grade curses who came here?”. You motioned to the now burned away curses. You were right, at this point you’re beyond the point from making a return. The only way you’d even live is if they had hooked you onto life support to keep you going, but you’d be bedridden your entire life. You wouldn’t want to live like that, you’d only suffer.

“Ieiri”, grabbing Shoko’s attention. “The day when Gojo said that Geto was his best friend, his one and only”

“I want you to know that you’re my best friend, you’re my one and only”. Shoko couldn’t help but cry, the day when those words left Gojo’s mouth it had made her feel as if she was never their friend, yet here you were comforting her when you’re getting closer to kissing death.

You pulled her into a hug, tears streaming down your cheeks too. “I don’t have much time left”. Shoko sniffled and buried herself deeper into your embrace as the words left your mouth. You held her close and kissed her forehead. “I love you”, you said softly. “I love all of you, maybe in another world we all are happy”.

You rested your head against hers, your breaths were becoming shallower and your conscious was slowly leaving. Shoko didn’t know when your hand dropped to your side, the blood staining your shirt now darkening her white coat. She just stayed quiet watching the scene, knowing that you needed your peace and quiet as your breathing steadily slowed soon gone, your body losing strength and all feelings, finally your heart beating slower and harder than ever before before it came down completely with no pulse. You were gone.

Your body had gone limp against her, the warmth leaving your skin and being replaced by the chill of death. Your blood soaked through your clothes, the stench thick in the air. You had died in her arms, she couldn't bring herself to move your body.

The world was silent around you; all she heard was ruffling noises of her settling you on the ground. She wanted to cry, but nothing came. All that remained was grief for your loss of life. The two photographs that had been in her hand, she would make sure were in the albums. Taking the photographs, she put them away in the pockets of her white crimson stained coat.

Her fingers brushed against yours as she did so and a sharp pain shot through her body like an arrow of ice through her heart, freezing her where she stood. The sensation didn't last long however, it disappeared after seconds as the reality of what had just happened hit her. You died, you’re not here anymore.

Days have passed since your death, she had your body be brought to her lab while preparing for your funeral. The news of your death spread like wildfire among other jujutsu sorcerers as well as the council. The first years and second years had taken your death the worst, believing you’d come back just as Yuuji did. Denial was something shoko was unfamiliar with, she was usually straightforward when it came to stuff like this. Except this time. What else could she say, you were like a parental figure to them. Who wouldn’t be in denial if they lost someone they loved, especially if they died trying to just protect and keep you away from the very thing that would have killed them. But now she couldn’t lie to them anymore, so she tried her best to comfort them and assure them it would be alright.

It had been a complete mess for everyone, having to get used to you not being there to help them with certain things or training with them. Megumi, the raven haired boy had been in his dorm the entire day reflecting. He wishes he had opened up more to you, he wishes he hadn’t been as cold as he was to you when all you did was trying to take care of him. Here was crying at all the memories he had of you knowing there won’t be any new ones. Yuuji and Nobara hadn’t been as ecstatic, knowing that the one person that treated them like their kid who would treat their injuries wasn’t there anymore. It was hard waking up every day realizing you weren’t going to be there to help them in face of danger. Your funeral was couple days away. They still haven’t talked about you being dead. They don’t think Nobara has spoken in hours. Unusual for the girl since has a lot of things to say. Yuuji didn’t know what to do, he lost a lot of people such Nanami, grandfather, Junpei, and you were added onto that list.

No one knew where Gojo had been, when he did show up he still acted the same as if your death hadn’t taken any toll on him. When asked why he hadn’t shown up earlier or said anything at all he simply replied that he didn’t want to. Not even Megumi believed him. Although his response was infuriating they could only bite their tongues and hold it back.

“How could you just say that?!”, a voice yelled. It was Maki, she looked up to you due to your fighting abilities and had even asked you to train her from time to time. Inumaki and Panda could only look away at the scene. “Listen, jujutsu sorcerers die having to do this, Y/N just met the fate of it”. Before anyone could retaliate he simply warped away with the excuse of needing to meet the council.

The white haired male was deceiving himself with that response. The days he hadn’t been at the school he was helping Shoko plan the funeral and the days he wasn’t planning the funeral he would be thinking for hours about all your time back at the Jujutsu Highschool. The Gojo Satoru grieving for someone that hadn’t been so close to him like Geto Suguru who he himself had killed, it truly had left a scar on everyone. Even if it hurt him physically. He didn’t tell anyone though, he wasn’t ready to talk about the feelings he felt he never would be. He had thought they were long gone but apparently not. He wished you could be here to hear the words coming out of his mouth, the words that would explain everything. He wishes that you both could have at least been in love. Or at least been happy together, that he would have seen that in you sooner.

Now you were gone and he couldn’t change that. There was no way you’d ever come back. He should have listened to Megumi and told you. Maybe things could have turned out differently, you would have been able to call him for help. He hoped so anyway. He just wished that you two would have talked about how you felt, instead of pretending that the feelings weren’t there. Every jujutsu sorcerer has regrets, this just happened to be a major one for him.

It was the day of the funeral, many had been gathered around your body which was neatly placed in a casket. The inside of it had been filled with flowers and red roses. Your attire was completely changed from the previously ripped up one in which you died in. Everyone had said their condolences with faces either filled with smiles feeling nothing but sadness and grief, other which were still in denial. Gojo had simply looked at you with indifference not noticing the way his fist clenched when it had been announced to lower you into the ground. They all watched as the casket had been sealed shut and was slowly being lowered into the ground. Tears were silently streaming down their faces, the now cloudy sky had started to share it’s own grief. The droplets simply pouring onto the casket before dripping down. Heads were hung low refusing to watch as the dirt hit the coffin.

The sound of weeping became deafening, no one dared speak above a whisper. The silence was killing everyone, it was as if the weight of your absence was pressing down on their chest. No one dared to leave, they were terrified, it was too soon to see you buried, it would feel too real. This was a dream that they all wanted to wake up from. The wind picked up and carried the scent of rain and flowers away. People took this as their cue to start dispersing until only Gojo remained near your grave. He had been the last to leave, setting down a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

A day had passed since your funeral, Shoko knew you wouldn’t want them to grieve. She had been inches away from your apartment, opening the door and turning the lights on. She trudged towards your room before finally reaching your desk. She had taken out the two albums going through all the memories you had collected. The first album, being from when you guys were sorcerers the second one being of the new first years mixed with the second years. She realized there had been the same space in both albums to fit the photographs, taking them out she carefully place them in to their rightful spot. Before closing the album first album, an envelope was sticking out.

To Gojo, signed off by your name. She quickly retrieved both the albums and the note before driving off to the dorms calling all first and second years as well as Gojo. They were reluctant until it was mentioned that you wanted them to have something.

They had all surrounded Shoko in anticipation, until she presented the second album to them titled “My Kids”. They took it as they all looked over the photographs you had taken of them through the time you had been with them, it was a parting gift from you to them. They all couldn’t stop the tears which had started streaming down their faces as they all relived their moments with you. The first album Shoko had decided to show Gojo personally as well as handing him the letter you had written which confessed your feelings. Shoko stepped out of the room leaving Gojo by himself.

He decided to go through the album looking at the pictures longer in order to feel as if he was there. One by one he remembered every moment with you and the others. After closing the album, he read the letter which had sitting neatly to his side waiting to be opened almost a decade ago. Mentions about you not wanting to ruin your friendship yet wanting to if it meant you having a chance with him. His hands were creasing the edges of the paper, he only wished you had told him sooner and maybe just maybe he could have loved you before you died. To know what it meant to love. To know that it could be possible to do so, it made him smile sadly to himself.

You hadn’t died with regrets, however it left others with a regret of their own.

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sequencefairy · 11 days

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@ everyone who is catastrophizing: they're not taking their old content off youtube:

However, according to Bergara, Watcher is not fully exiting YouTube: It will still keep its backlog of videos on YouTube, and going forward will put the first episodes of new seasons on YouTube — while the full new seasons will be exclusively available on the Watcher streamer.

Source: VARIETY ARTICLE LINKED RIGHT HERE READ IT

also yes, i am sure they have thought this through, carefully and with much discussion with their staff, their partners and themselves. this is not a decision taken lightly or without deep consideration.

unfortunately, they, like all the rest of us, are allowed to make a living and their 27 staff and employees are also allowed to make a living. episodes of Ghost Files, as an example, cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to make. neither the patreon nor the youtube ad revenue, even combined, cover that + their additional overhead.

i'm sorry to folks who cannot afford the new subscription service, but the boys have also encouraged password and account sharing, so i suggest you hook up with a couple of fandom friends and share an account the way i am going to.

there's a real disconnect in this fandom about the true costs associated with the content that we enjoy and have consumed, essentially for free, for years. that watcher was even able to remain sustainable as the youtube landscape became more and more hostile to creators who did not make clickbait nonsense, is amazing. this is a necessary and vital change to the model in which their content is released. it gets them out from under the youtube algo, keeps them from being demonetized and getting nothing at all for a video that costs tens of thousands of dollars to make, and will hopefully free them up to be able to pursue things they have been unable to pursue while being tied into the youtube space.

sorry that you are no longer getting content for free, but being able to directly pay the creators of the content for their time, energy, and effort, is way more appealing to me than having to watch fucking unskippable youtube ads about sports betting.

#things jess says #watcher #watcher entertainment

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

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

Chapter Thirteen: Carry You Home

Plot: Ellie and Y/n do their best to save a wounded Joel and survive on their own.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, language, blood, injuries, hunting, reference to smut

A/N: Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy…these chapters suck to write for 2 reasons…1: D*vid. 2: We’re getting so close to the end that I want to cry 😫 I’m going to miss this show so much!!

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

I hope y’all enjoy this blend of fluff and angst and laughter. I’m going to try to get 14 out on Sunday, but no promises. Read on!

——————

“Protect him.”

Tess’ dying words had echoed through Y/n’s mind more times than she could count. The sentiment had travelled with her across the county, an ever-present passenger on their journey.

And now they were haunting her.

Ellie and Y/n had managed to get Joel into the basement of an abandoned house, laying him down on an old, dank mattress. Unfortunately, he had woken up by then and was feeling the full force of his wound.

“I know, I know,” Y/n tried to soothe him as he screamed, bent over his abdomen. The tourniquet had done a subpar job at stopping the bleeding. If it had been a river, now it was a stream. “Hold still,” she looked to Ellie, “Press down on the wound. Hard.”

Ellie had found an old towel in the kitchen upstairs and tore off a strand.

“Squeeze,” Y/n instructed Joel, who was already squirming in pain, “Hard as you need.”

Joel had lost enough blood for the world around him to spin, the only things in focus were Ellie and Y/n’s faces.

Y/n nodded to Ellie, who pressed down on Joel’s wound, causing him to choke on his own breath. His hand shot out, reaching for Y/n’s arm and crushing it in his grip. She turned her face downwards to hide the grimace of pain.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ellie cursed as Joel writhed beneath her hands.

“Keep going,” Y/n ordered, blindly reaching a hand out to push Joel’s shoulder into the mattress, “Honey, c’mon, I need you to work with us.”

Joel winced, digging his head back into the bed. Out of all the injuries he’d sustained over the years, this was the worst. Not just because of the searing pain stabbing through him, but because it was the one that was going to take him out.

He was dying, and neither Y/n nor Ellie could stop it.

“Leave.”

They both ignored the word.

“Leave,” Joel strained through it again.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Y/n stated, watching Ellie’s hands, “He’s gonna say some weird shit.”

“Go,” he continued.

“Shut up, Joel,” Ellie’s breaths quickened in quiet panic.

“Take the gun-“

“Joel, shut the fuck up,” she yelled.

“Ellie,” Y/n said forcefully, the girl’s hands were slipping. She pushed them off and held the rag down on Joel’s wound.

With a last surge of strength, Joel reached out and grabbed Ellie by the collar, yanking her to face him.

“You go,” Joel whispered, “You go. You go north. Y/n-“

Y/n shook her head, shutting out the reality of their dire situation. “Stop,” she said without looking up.

Joel was undeterred, “You go to Tommy.”

“Stop,” Y/n gritted out, her hands hanging over his stomach with no plan of action. She wasn’t even sure what there was to be done. At best, she was only stalling Joel’s death by a few precious minutes.

When she finally dared to look up, her gaze fell on Ellie, whose eyes were misting as she stared down at Joel. He shoved Ellie back, releasing her from the burden of caring, and let his arm fall at his side.

Joel managed to turn his head, letting his eyes wash over the woman he loved, had never stopped loving. Kneeling over him and covered in his blood, he thought back to how she’d looked the night they’d first met. Her eyes untouched by cynicism, her laugh deflecting no hidden pain, her smile striking him like lightning and giving him a new pursuit in life; to bring enough joy to her life that her lips were forever turned up.

Now he was going to break her heart. Again.

He thought of their last night together, spent cradling each other’s bodies underneath the sheets in Jackson. How his skin had remembered the feel of hers the moment they touched, how his lips had recalled the roads they used to travel across her like he would an old hometown street. Though bathed in the tears of their sins and all they had lost, he had been reborn at the first kiss. He had a standing reservation in hell, but he could go knowing he’d felt the touch of an angel.

“Rose…” Joel strained out, the word tasted like sweetness.

The four letters burned in Y/n’s ears, sending a new wave of fear through her. “No,” she finally looked to Joel, “This isn’t how it happens.”

“Rosebud,” he pushed with a surprising calm to his tone.

“Joel, no,” Y/n fought to keep her sobs down, “This is not how it happens. It’s not.”

Joel’s hand shakily slid up her arm, needing to feel her as he told her, “I love you.”

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, the strength of her grip on the towel faltering as she forced them open to look at Joel. Despite his impending death, there was a peace that filled in the lines of his face, one that only graced those who were on their way out.

“No,” Y/n whined, her voice unable to carry further than the distance between them. She reached up to stroke his hair, taking his cheek in her other hand, “This isn’t how I want to hear it, Joel. Please.”

Once he’d said it, he couldn’t stop. He was making up for twenty years in twenty seconds. “I love you. I love you…” Joel drew a shallow breath, “You go. You take her,” his stare gripped her, nearly choking the will out of her, “Go.”

For as prominent as Joel’s abandonment had been in her life, Y/n had done her fair share of leaving. She had left Sarah’s body, at least it had felt like leaving, when they’d sought shelter in the triage clinic. She had left her parents, panicked at what she had done, in the spots where she’d taken their lives. She had left Tess to die the worst way a person could, even if she was only following orders. Her life had been one abandoning after the other, and now she was being asked to abandon the love of her life.

In her haze, Y/n hadn’t even remembered Ellie was there. It wasn’t until she felt Joel’s thick coat being slipped over his body that she realized the girl was making her choice. She would decide, for once in their time together, to heed Joel’s words. And as her boots slapped against the stairs, she was also making Y/n’s choice.

Unable to force the words she felt like a sweet sickness inside her soul, she dissolved into tears, pressing her forehead to Joel’s. She didn’t think even if they’d had twenty years ahead of them that she’d have ever found to words to describe the depth of her love for Joel Miller. It stretched two decades of euphorias and tragedies. It was stronger than her hate or his violence. It was forgiveness and redemption and all-encompassing in its triumph over the worst of their persons.

Y/n sniffled, nudging Joel’s nose with her wet one and letting her mouth hover over his as if she could breathe life back into him. Joel took it, letting his eyes fall shut and savoring the the last of her lips he’d ever feel.

Joel had spent twenty years trying to detach from who he’d been, his old skin a constant reminder of all that he’d almost had. Y/n had spent twenty years trying to find her way back to her humanity, desperate to redeem herself. Without ever knowing it, they had been running back to each another, one step at a time.

Protect him.

Perhaps Y/n had only kept her promise to Tess in the beginning out of obligation. But now, now the words were as true as if they’d come out of her own mouth.

Joel had left her once.

She’d be damned if it happened again.

Y/n broke from Joel’s lips, rushing to her feet and bolting for the stairs.

From Joel’s point of view, it was the last he’d ever see of her. There was a duality that Cordyceps had forced on anyone who prioritized survival over anything else. Joel had meant every word with the force he’d said it, he wanted Y/n and Ellie safe. But he also knew he was dying, something that, despite all he’d wished over the years, he wasn’t ready to do yet. He had Ellie, this beautiful, unexpected gift of a child, who depended on him as if she was his own. And now he had Y/n, the miracle that he’d let slip through his fingers, returning to him with the same perfect timing she’d first appeared to him. He wanted to stay, to cherish and protect them like the man they made him feel he could be again. And if that wasn’t in the cards for him, he at least wanted to hold their hands as he faded out.

As Joel watched Y/n head up the stairs, he let a single tear fall down his face. He’d had one last night, one last kiss, and one last ‘I love you.’ It wasn’t a lifetime, but it would have to be enough.

When Y/n got to the stairs, Ellie was nowhere to be found. Was she already saddling the horses? Was it that easy for her to let Joel die?

“Ellie,” she called through her tears, bursting through the door, “Ell-“

The girl rushed past her, one step ahead, raiding cabinets and drawers.

Y/n felt herself breathing for the first time in an hour.

“What do we look for?” Ellie hurriedly asked.

“Something,” Y/n flung a empty cabinet door open, “Anything. We need to get the wound closed up.”

They searched high and low, in every room, until they met in the kitchen. Ellie dove for a set of drawers while Y/n scoured more cabinets.

“It won’t open,” Ellie groaned, pulling against the handle.

Y/n ran over, squeezing her hands next to Ellie’s and tugging with her. “Pull,” she breathed, the two of them shifted all their weight backwards.

The drawer’s internal mechanism released, the momentum they’d built throwing Ellie and Y/n to the ground. The contents were scattered from the drop.

“There’s nothing here,” Y/n panted, on the verge of frustrated tears.

“W-wait,” Ellie breathed, her hand sliding across the linoleum floor to grab something. She held up a rusted needle and thread to Y/n.

“Yes,” Y/n gasped, she took the supplies into her shaking palms. She wished she hadn’t used the last of her own days before, but they could make do with what they had, “Yes, this’ll work.”

Stumbling to their feet, they ran back through the door and down the steps, bringing salvation with them.

Joel was trying, trying to hold the rag to his wound, hoping it made his death a little less painful, but his strength was fading. His whole body shook with shivers, even his lips trembled from the cruel mixture of shock and the cold. He could feel himself slipping away, so much so that he was convinced the thudding footsteps he heard were hallucinations.

Y/n and Ellie kneeled down on either side of him, their faces illuminated by the last bit of light peeking through the clouded basement window. His saviors.

Ellie threw Joel’s coat off of him, catching her breath as she reached for his hand.

Y/n leaned down, interlocking her fingers with his other hand and brushing the hair from his face. She pressed a determined kiss to his clammy forehead, willing him to stay alive a little bit longer.

Joel would never admit to them just how much he’d wanted them to stay. He summoned what was left of his strength and tried to squeeze both of their hands, letting them squeeze back. They were going to fight this, and they were going to do it together.

Ellie reached for the towel and peeled the cloth off Joel’s wound. The bleeding had slowed, but was far from stopping. They had to move fast.

In the midst of their panic, Joel softly reached for Ellie’s cheek, pulling back halfway when he lost his strength. It was a moment none of them noticed in their mad rush.

“Honey,” Y/n began, pressing one more kiss to Joel’s skin, “We gotta get it closed up. It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker,” she moved Joel’s hands to grab her forearms, “So you fuckin’ squeeze, and try to stay still for us. Okay?”

Ellie quickly thread the needle and tied a knot. Y/n wished she could spare her the pain of having to stitch Joel up, but Y/n was the only one who’d be able to hold him down and keep him relatively calm.

“Keep going,” Y/n directed Ellie, “I’m gonna try to keep him still, but you don’t stop, even if he moves.”

Ellie nodded, apologetically seeking Joel’s eyes one last time before turning to his abdomen.

Y/n put both her hands to Joel’s shoulders, bracing herself for what was to come.

“Go,” she said,

Joel let out a sickening groan as Ellie thread the needle, the pain giving him strength enough to squeeze Y/n’s arms so tight, she couldn’t help but wince. In his daze, he could sense he was hurting her, but couldn’t fight past that which his own body was bringing him.

Tears sprung to Y/n’s eyes as she forced Joel down into the mattress, taking the searing heat in her shoulder as a good thing. It meant Joel still had enough fight inside him to push through.

“I know, I know, I know, I know,” she muttered as Joel threw his head to the side, trying to hide his grimaces from Ellie, “I know, honey. Just hang on.”

Joel’s vision was going dark around the edges, the pain dulling all his senses. The only thing strong enough to cut through was Y/n’s voice.

“I’m here,” Y/n assured Joel, his eyes fluttering but fighting to look at her, “I’m here. I got you.”

“It’s stopping,” Ellie announced, still hard at work.

Y/n wasn’t able to sigh in relief yet, Joel had finally lost the battle and had slipped into unconsciousness. She’d expected it, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t still filled with dread.

It only took Ellie a few more minutes to finish sewing Joel’s wound, Y/n helping her to tie a clumsy knot at the end. They dabbed and tried to clean the blood off him as best they could before laying his shirts back down. When they were done, they slid off their ankles and onto the concrete, watching the rise and fall of Joel’s chest.

“Is he…” Ellie began before realizing it was a stupid question.

Y/n was fighting off the same thought, wondering if their efforts would be enough, or if it was a losing battle.

“I hope so,” she whispered, it didn’t matter to her if fate was calling Joel Miller home. She would rage against it regardless.

The next hour was spent waiting and watching. Ellie, eventually, went upstairs and collected their backpacks.

Y/n kneeled above Joel’s head, her hands resting over each of his ears. She combed her fingers through the ends of his hair, not trying to wake him or soothe him further into sleep, but simply providing what little comfort she could to both of them.

Ellie clunked down the stairs with their packs and sleeping bags, depositing them on the floor. She had spent the last three months watching Joel and Y/n fight, and the last week watching them drift back together. This was new. She hadn’t seem them vulnerable, on the verge of losing one another when they’d finally found some sort of peace. She didn’t have twenty years of experience, but she understood why Y/n was hunched over, cradling the man, who didn’t even know she was there.

Ellie settled against the wall, working up the courage to speak. “How’d you guys meet?”

It was perhaps the only thing said in the moment to make Y/n smile. “At a bar,” she answered, remembering the night like it had just passed, “A guy hit on me, couldn’t take the hint that I wasn’t interested…Joel threw a punch, Tommy threw the next…” she nearly laughed, “Then they threw him out.”

“So…he’s always been like that,” Ellie commented.

Y/n soothed a thumb over Joel’s cheek, the skin was so pale it almost brought on a fresh batch of tears. Or maybe it was the reminder that they’d once lived in a world where violence wasn’t a necessary evil. Where Joel’s laugh was an every day occurrence. When he kissed her as if it was the last time he ever would, with the end nowhere in sight.

“No,” she whispered over the lump in her throat, “He wasn’t.”

Ellie sensed she was getting to close to shattering what was left of Y/n, and she couldn’t do that. She needed one person left to look to, to hold her hand through these impossible problems. She rubbed her hands together anxiously, nearly choking on the words she wanted to say.

“Riley.”

Y/n dragged her eyes away from Joel to look up at Ellie, “What?”

Ellie drew a shaky breath, “Riley. She was my…she was my friend,” she rubbed her knuckles together, “She got infected and…”

All of Y/n’s longing told her to stay with Joel, not to move from her spot, no matter what. But her duty was to both him and Ellie, and she knew where she was needed at the moment. She inched her hands off of Joel’s head and crawled over to Ellie, coming to sit next to her against the wall.

“I knew Riley,” Y/n admitted, hugging a knee to her chest.

Ellie’s eyes widened, “You did?”

Y/n nodded, “She only joined a few weeks before…” she trailed off. Marlene had been the one to find them, Y/n had been back at base. But she’d met Riley, had even tried to take her under her wing before the fatal night at the mall. “She was fucking fearless,” Y/n shifted gears, “And fun.”

“Did she ever mention me?” Ellie asked after a beat of silence.

“No,” Y/n replied, looking over her arm to Ellie’s expectant stare, “I think she wanted to keep you safe,” she cracked a smile, “Bloodthirsty demons that we are.”

Ellie’s lips turned up the slightest bit, but they fell just as quick. It was one of the first times she had allowed herself to grieve her best friend, and there was something about the setting that made it all hurt worse. Across from her, Joel lay on the brink of death. To her side, Y/n was sitting with her in worry and in comfort. The last two people on the planet that she loved.

Y/n’s maternal instincts caught the change in Ellie’s demeanor just before she broke. She slipped an arm around her shoulders as the first tears fell, Ellie willingly sliding into Y/n’s side and curling her face into her body. It was the first time Ellie had allowed anyone, apart from Riley on that dreadful night, see her fall apart, and Y/n didn’t take it lightly. She pressed a kiss to the top of the young girl’s head, reminding herself that the journey had started out the two of them, and if even if tragedy intervened, it would end with the two of them.

—————————

Deep into the night, Y/n stayed awake, telling Ellie she’d press on until morning. The girl needed a break from the world.

Joel stirred a few times, letting out a moan or blindly reaching to clutch his wound. Y/n was there each time, holding his hand and soothing him back to sleep. Around what Y/n guessed was 3AM, he stopped slipping in and out and just stayed out. His ragged breaths, creating a steady rhythm in his stomach, were the only thing reassuring Y/n that he was still alive.

While Ellie was awake, Y/n held it together as best she could. But under the cover of dark, she allowed herself to fall apart, her fear for Joel’s life swallowing her whole.

“Do you remember that trip we took to the beach?” Y/n whispered, hanging over Joel’s head, stroking a hand over his hair as her other one cupped his cheek, “For our anniversary? Sarah’s graduation?”

In her weaker moments over the years, Y/n had drifted back to the memory. It was the last time she could remember feeling truly free and yet it was also the first time she remembered feeling tied down. Stuck in the space between Sarah’s dad’s girlfriend and a parent, between Joel’s love of one year and his potential wife. She wanted them both back; the liberation and the duty.

“Remember that night?” Y/n asked Joel’s unconscious form, she’d always wondered how she could recall the exact feel of the hotel sheets. The exact trail of her skin Joel’s lips had traveled. Which of his t-shirts she’d been wearing. “I made you promise that…” Y/n trailed off, bristling, “It sounds so fucking stupid now.”

“No matter how much I hated you,” Y/n slid her thumb against Joel’s cheek, “I couldn’t hate you enough to stop loving you. I tried, my g-“ Y/n chuckled softly, “I tried so fucking hard. Couldn’t do it.”

Her tears were building now, the more she exposed, the more the threat of loss became real.

“I waited twenty years, Joel,” she whispered, her throat tightening up on her, “Twenty fucking years, not knowing if you were dead or still hanging on. And then I got you back,” she sobbed once with nostalgic joy, “I got you back. And I can’t lose you before I get to love you again.”

Y/n lowered her head, dropping her lips to Joel’s ear, her voice barely audible, “Because I do. I love you. I love you so much it…” she bit back a cry, not wanting to wake Ellie, “It fucking hurts. You can’t just…you can’t just come back to me and then leave. You can’t do that to me. To Ellie.”

“I need you to fight,” Y/n begged, tears freely flowing down her cheeks, “I need you to fight so fucking hard, you need me to carry you the whole way to Utah, and I will. I’ll do it. I just need you there.”

Y/n choked on her sobs, digging her forehead into the mattress and letting them shake her. All her losses in life had been so sudden, she’d never had to watch a life hang, the pendulum swinging between a second chance and death. It was tearing her apart.

She wiped the snot and tears away on her jacket sleeve, the same sleeve that was painted with Joel’s dried blood. She leaned back over Joel, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his forehead. Y/n had heard stories of miracles, of voices at hospital bedsides being the thing to bring people back from death’s edge. She’d lost faith in that sort of thing after the loss of her family, but in the throes of worry, nothing was off the table. She’d stay up all night, telling Joel how much she loved him, if there was even a chance it would reach him.

—————————

For two days, Ellie and Y/n kept watch as best they could. With no medicine, there was little they could do to help Joel’s, now infected, wound.

Y/n finished up feeding snow to the horses, moving robotically from the garage to the basement. She hadn’t gotten more than maybe two hours each day. It didn’t feel right to rest when Joel was clinging to life.

She came downstairs to see Ellie kneeled next to Joel, placing one of their last pieces of rations on his chest.

“He wouldn’t want you doing that,” Y/n said softly.

Ellie sniffed away the cold air, “Yeah, well…”

If the terrible series of events was doing anything, it was showing how deeply they cared about each other.

“I’m going to go out real quick,” Y/n announced, heading to pick up her rifle, “Try and find us something to eat.”

“I’m coming with you,” Ellie jumped to her feet.

“No, you’re not,” Y/n replied, “You’re gonna stay here and watch him.”

“I can’t fucking do anything for him here,” the girl gestured down to Joel’s body, “If I can hunt something then…”

Y/n already knew what she was trying to say, she was desperate to feel in control of something. Hunting was a great way to make you feel like you had some power over the world.

“Okay,” Y/n sighed, “Twenty minutes.”

Ellie moved across the room to grab Joel’s rifle while Y/n crouched down and kissed his forehead.

“We’ll be back soon.”

The two of them filed up the stairs, both of their hearts unsettled at leaving without Joel. It was one thing to see someone with no fighting skills or survival techniques be taken down, but to see someone like Joel battling for their life was a quick way to make someone feel entirely exposed. And Y/n could feel the full weight of the responsibility they’d shouldered together the last three months.

Y/n drew her rifle into postition as her and Ellie exited through the front door, Ellie struck a similar stance. They moved down the driveway into the street, scanning for footprints in the snow that didn’t exist. They’d made the right decision to hide in the abandoned neighborhood.

Ellie and Y/n made their way to the forest, trudging through the snow and huffing patterns into the cold air.

“Remember what Joel taught you,” Y/n instructed, keeping her voice low to not spook any animals, “Regardless of what your instincts tell you, pull slow.”

Ellie’s eyes were already drifting ahead, having spotted a white rabbit thirty feet away from them. She glanced over to Y/n, who nodded for her to go ahead. Y/n felt better keeping her gun aimed at the space around them anyway.

Just as Ellie was setting herself up, the rabbit ran off. Ellie took off charging the way it had run.

“Ellie,” Y/n gritted, the worst thing to do when tracking an animal was to chase it.

Ellie tripped on a branch, falling face first into the snow.

Y/n came over and extended a hand to the girl, pulling her up to her feet. “Word of advice…if an animal’s running, you don’t go after it and make more noise.”

“Yeah,” Ellie exhaled, wiping the snow from her face, “I got that.”

“Come on,” Y/n hitched her rifle back over her shoulder, “Ten more minutes.”

The two of them walked a little further, eventually hearing a clicking noise that sent them both reaching for their guns.

Ellie hit Y/n’s arm, guiding her attention to a patch of trees providing shelter to a full-grown deer. Y/n gestured for her to take the nearest log and the shot. It felt like a good idea to keep Ellie as distracted as she could and maybe give her a much needed victory.

Heeding all of Joel and Y/n’s advice, Ellie lined up the shot perfectly and-

BANG!

The deer wailed, limping away into the depth of the forest.

“No fucking way,” Ellie muttered.

“Come on,” Y/n pulled her free hand and the two of them sprinted off after it.

There are certain moments in life that, with hindsight, stick out as forks in the road. If Person A hadn’t have made it to Point A, then Person B wouldn’t have found them and both their lives, good or bad, would be forever altered because they didn’t meet.

Y/n and Ellie couldn’t have known what they were running straight towards.

They tracked the blood trail of the deer 1/4 of a mile before hearing two male voices. Y/n threw her arm out, catching Ellie and holding a finger up to her lips. The two of them drew their rifles and very carefully stepped around the snowbank. Sure enough, there were two men standing over their now dead deer.

Y/n inhaled to speak.

“Don’t! Drop your rifles! Now!” Ellie yelled.

The two men carefully removed their guns from their backs, the taller of them keeping one eye on Ellie and Y/n.

“Turn around,” Y/n ordered, her gun locked on the tall man, while Ellie took the shorter one.

“Any sudden moves,” Ellie threatened, deepening her voice to make her words more convincing, “I put one right between your eyes. Ditto for buddy boy.”

Internally, Y/n grimaced. Ellie was going to get them killed with a poor imitation of Joel.

“You two are quite the hunters,” the shorter man said, his hands held in the air, “We didn’t even hear you coming.”

“Flattered,” Y/n replied, unimpressed, “But this is where you two walk away with your asses still attached and we take what’s ours.”

“Okay,” the man said, making no effort to move.

“Just go!” Ellie impatiently yelled.

“A-all I ask is ten minutes of your time,” the man continued.

“Did you not get that that was a warning?” Y/n muttered, extending her foot ever so slightly to make it look like she was taking a step closer.

“Please,” the man didn’t budge at her non-verbal threat, “Just ten seconds. My name is David. This is my friend, James. We’re from a larger group: women, children, and we’re all…very, very hungry.”

“We’re from a large group too,” Ellie lied, drafting the lie quickly in her head, “Also hungry.”

David sighed, “Well, even so…” he gestured to the deer, “Ya can’t drag this back just the two of you.”

“We’re fine,” Y/n finished the conversation. The world was dead, yet somehow misogyny was still alive and well…

“We’re not asking for charity,” David clarified, “W-we can trade you for some of the deer. What do you need? We have…boots-“

Ellie’s rifle lowered ever so slightly, her voice coming back to its childlike pitch, “Medicine? Like, for infections.”

“We do,” David replied, surprised they’d hit on something so fast, “Back in our village. You’re welcome to follow us.”

“Yeah,” Y/n wasn’t so quick to believe that it was just that simple, “That’s not happening.”

Ellie picked up her gun-slinging persona again, “Buddy boy can go get it. He comes back, you get half the deer. Anyone else shows up, I put-“

“Put one right between my eyes,” David finished for her.

“That’s right,” Ellie finished, sensing that at some point, she should have let Y/n take over the talking.

David turned to James, leaving his hands hanging in the air, “Alright, go talk to Howard. He’s got a case with some penicillin. Bring back two bottles and a syringe.”

James looked stunned at David’s request, as if killing the two women was the obvious option.

“It’s not code, James,” David added, “Do as I said.”

Y/n’s rifle remained trained on James, waiting for him to make the right move. The man kept his eyes on her the whole time till he could safely jog back into the forest.

“Ten steps back,” Ellie ordered David, her and Y/n marched the man backwards, “Keep going.”

Once he was past the deer, Ellie kneeled down to pick up David’s rifle, unloaded the cartridges while Y/n kept her aim fixed on him.

“That your dad’s gun?” David asked, “He the one who’s sick? That’s why you two are out here on your own?”

“This is not a Starbucks,” Y/n bit out, “We are not chatting over a latte. All you need to know is that one wrong move, and your village goes hungry a hell of a lot longer.”

The words hurt Y/n as she let them fly, she didn’t feel cut out for Joel’s intimidation tactics.

“Well, look, uh,” David looked behind them to an old cabin, “It’s a four mile round trip back to our settlement. It’s gonna be…a while before James gets back. I have some oil and matches in my pack, we could,” he gestured to the cabin once more, “Take shelter. Start a fire.”

It wasn’t the most obscene idea, Y/n thought. She didn’t plan on lowering her gun at any point, and if Ellie and her were going to make the trip back carrying half a deer with them, they needed to save the strength the cold was stealing from them.

“You bring him with us,” Y/n decided, nodding towards the deer.

David nodded back, a smile on his lips that Y/n couldn’t decode. She just knew she’d seen the same expression on the wrong kind of men before.

—————————

David tended to the fire he’d started in the middle of the cabin’s living room, sitting back down and warming his hands. Ellie and Y/n sat across from him, rifles aimed and ready to silence him.

“You know, you two really shouldn’t be out here on your own,” David said, his voice soft and concerned.

“Says the man with two rounds pointed at him,” Y/n remarked.

David shrugged, “Fair enough. So what’re your names?”

Ellie frowned, shaking her head in reply.

“It’s hard to trust strangers, I know,” David stated, “But I honestly mean you no harm. And for what it’s worth,” he opened his hands, “There’s room for you two in our group, if you want.”

“You’re inviting us to join your Hunger Club?” Ellie retorted, “Thanks.”

“It’s true, we’re hungry,” David admitted, “But we’re still here. I’m a decent man, just tryna take care of the people who rely on me.”

Y/n gave a nonchalant shrug, “Okay, so you’re the leader of a ragtag group of survivors. That’s nothing special.”

“Wasn’t my choice, it was theirs, but” David replied, “Yes.”

“They “chose” to follow you?” Ellie replied, “Is this some weird cult thing?”

One half of David’s mouth quirked up, “Uh, well, you sorta kinda got me there, I am a preacher, but just pretty standard Bible stuff.”

Ellie smiled to herself and glanced up at Y/n, who had already tuned out of the whole topic.

David looked between the women, “What?”

“The whole world ended, and you still believe that shit,” Ellie replied.

“I actually started believing after the world ended,” David corrected the girl, “Before that, I was a teacher. Math. Taught kids about your age.”

“So you went from teacher to preacher because, what? It fuckin’ rhymes?” Ellie fired back at the man.

David nearly laughed, “Yeah, exactly.”

Ellie smiled, just a little bit, keeping her aim on David but loosening it. He didn’t seem like much of a threat to her. Y/n, being older and having seen a lot more shit, was less convinced.

“But seriously,” Ellie prompted him to continue his story.

“Well, I found God…after the apocalypse,” David told them, watching Ellie more than Y/n, “Which is either the best time or the worst time to find Him, hard to say. But when the Pittsburgh QZ fell in ‘17, Fireflies and FEDRA…I left with a few others, and th-that’s how I ended up with our flock.”

“This is a long fucking way from Pittsburgh,” Y/n replied, perhaps it would have been a comment coming out of anyone else’s mouth, but it was an accusation from hers. There was something about him she didn’t trust.

David chuckled, “Yeah, we’d settle somewhere and then raiders would come, so we’d move again. And as we wandered, we picked up new people along the way until…” he glanced around him, “We ended up here.”

“Well, your luck had to run out sooner or later,” Ellie commented, the choice of words wasn’t lost on her or Y/n.

“Hm? Luck?” David rearranged his face the way some pastors did before jumping in the pulpit, “There’s no such thing as luck. No, I-I-I believe everything happens for a reason.”

Ellie and Y/n both shared a restrained smile, dodging the attempted sermon like it was a bullet.

“It does,” David insisted, grinning back at them, “I can prove it to you.”

“Okay,” Ellie agreed to his attempt.

David sighed, settling into his makeshift seat a little deeper. “We didn’t expect this winter to be so cruel. Nothing’ll grow. Game’s been hard to find. So I sent four of our people to a nearby town to-to scavenge what they could and only three of ‘em came back. And the one that didn’t was a father. He had a daughter just like you,” David pointed to Ellie, “And her dad was taken from her.”

Y/n slowly connected the dots, one step behind David but ten ahead of Ellie.

“Turns out…he was murdered,” David continued, “By this crazy man. And get this, that crazy man…was traveling with a little girl and a woman.”

Y/n was up on her feet, eye peering through the viewfinder, instantly.

“You see?” David smiled unsettlingly at Ellie, “Everything happens for a reason. James, lower the gun.”

Ellie spun around on her heels, both her and Y/n finding James returned, his handgun aimed straight at Ellie. They switched positions, Y/n’s weapon trained on James and Ellie’s on David.

“She is the one that killed Alec, isn’t she?” James asked.

“She didn’t kill anybody, neither of ‘em did,” David corrected, “Lower the gun.”

James and Y/n squared off, Y/n’s breath hanging on the edge of her lungs, just waiting to pull the trigger and release. Reluctantly, James lowered his pistol.

“Did you bring the medicine?” David asked his friend.

“Yeah, but-“

“Throw it to them.”

James hesitated, “David…”

Y/n’s back was turned to the preacher, but his silence indicated his seriousness. James reached into his pocket and tossed the small package at Y/n and Ellie’s feet.

“Back up,” Y/n said from between her teeth.

James did as requested, moving away from the medicine. Y/n moved closer to the man, letting him stare down the barrel of her gun while Ellie grabbed their trade.

“I know you’re not with a group,” David called, his voice creepily calm, “You won’t survive for long out there. I can protect you.”

They didn’t need to hear any more. Y/n fell behind Ellie, keeping her gun trained on the two men while the girl made a run for it. She thought to shoot them, be done with the whole thing and ensure their safe getaway. Except David had talked too much about his position in their town, they’d have twenty people after then instead of two. It was easy math.

As soon as she was certain David and James wouldn’t pick up their weapons, Y/n bolted into the forest after Ellie.

—————————

They made it back to the house, sweaty and out of breath.

Y/n shoved Ellie through the front door, fearfully scanning the street once before shutting and locking the door. When she got in, Ellie was already making for the basement, where Y/n followed her to.

“Are they gonna find us?” Ellie panted, sprinting down the stairs.

“I hope not,” Y/n replied, wishing she could give her more assurance they were safe.

Joel had barely moved since they’d left, his head having lolled to the right a little. Y/n knelt down at his shoulder, picking up a piece of rag to wipe the sweat from his brow. His body was working overtime to beat the infection.

“How the fuck do I do this?” Ellie loaded the syringe with the first bottle of penicillin.

“You put it either in the wound or around it,” Y/n instructed, an invisible question mark appearing at the end, “I don’t know, I’ve never dealt with a wound like this.”

Ellie considered her options, rolling Joel’s bloody shirt back and getting a good look at the gash. “Fuck it,” she muttered, just before inserting the needle in the middle of his wound.

Joel’s breathing quickened, his abdomen clenched a few times at the sensation, breaking through his unconsciousness. Y/n was there, pressing a kiss to his slick forehead, ready to hold him down if he woke.

“Okay,” Ellie said under her breath as she extracted the needle.

“Good job,” Y/n reassured her, “Penicillin’s fast acting. He should start to improve.”

“H-how do you know that?” Ellie asked, placing a worried hand on Joel’s forehead to test his fever.

The truth was, Y/n didn’t know anything. She was floating on a life raft in the middle of the ocean, adrift from any and all sense of safety. But she wanted to take solace in medicine, in the science of twenty years ago that a little dosage could stitch the body back together. She was choosing to believe.

“I don’t,” Y/n replied honestly, stroking Joel’s hair and peering up at Ellie, “But I have to have faith in something.”

“What, like the guy who wants to kill us?”

Y/n nearly bristled, “No, not exactly. I don’t believe everything happens for a fucking reason,” she looked back down at Joel, her lips quirking upwards briefly, “But some things…some things, definitely. And I don’t believe that we’d go through all the hell we have just to lose now…”

Ellie sighed, nervously rubbing her hands together as she watched Y/n tend to Joel. It came so easy to her guardian, to care for both her and the man who had abandoned her. Ellie’s walls remained so sky high, she wished that she could simply surrender to the warmth in her heart without fearing it as weakness.

She walked around to the other side of the mattress, sinking down onto its edge and laying down next to Joel. She carefully placed her hand on his chest and rested her head on his broad shoulder.

Y/n knew it was difficult for Ellie to open up, that the connection they’d formed back in Boston was like some eclipse that only came every hundred years. She’d watched Ellie slowly peel away at Joel’s defenses, until it was impossible for either to deny they cared about one another. Y/n wished desperately that Joel was awake to return the gesture, to encourage her vulnerability.

There wasn’t enough room on the mattress for all three of them, and Y/n didn’t dare ask Ellie to move an inch. Instead, she brought Joel’s hand up to his chest and laced her fingers through his. She rested her forehead just above his heart, the soft thudding against her skin filling her body with hope that he’d keep fighting. That he wouldn’t leave them.

Joel, slipping in and out of consciousness, wasn’t aware of much going on around him. But somewhere in his slumber, he could sense the warmth that was wrapped around him. He wasn’t chasing any white light, calling him home, but he chased the heat, leaning his head into it. He knew he was safe, so long as he could feel the warmth.

—————————

But there was no improvement the next day.

Joel’s wound had stopped bleeding, but his fever had yet to break.

Y/n knelt over Joel’s abdomen, sucking the second dose of penicillin into the syringe and injecting it. He didn’t so much as make a sound, that worried her.

Ellie sat on the edge of the bed and watched, waiting for some miraculous transformation to occur that would make Joel shoot straight up and return to his normal, grumpy self. If Y/n was honest with herself, her sleep-deprived mind was also waiting on something similar.

“Thought you said it was fast acting,” Ellie remarked, more bitter with the medication than Y/n.

“It is,” she answered, she was fucking exhausted, “But it’s not magic. He took a fucking…” Y/n let her hand fall against her lap, “Whatever it was. That doesn’t heal overnight.”

They didn’t want to say what they were both thinking.

“Come on,” Y/n sighed, rising to her feet with a groan, “Let’s go serve breakfast.”

The two of them filed out the garage, Y/n going to lift the squeaky door and Ellie carrying out a bucket. They gathered handfuls of the freshly fallen snow and brought it back to their horses, it was all they could offer them.

Y/n looked out on the neighborhood, her fingers nearly twitching in anticipation. They’d left tracks on their way back from the woods. If David decided to come after them, it might not be hard to find them. Then again, if he was a preacher, he could have subscribed to the believe that God might exact some sort of revenge on them rather than dirty his own hands.

“What are you thinking about?” Ellie asked, coming to stand by her side.

Y/n sighed, not wanting to consider dying any more. “How tired I am of fuckin’ snow.”

“You and me both,” Ellie remarked.

Without another word, Ellie leaned her head against Y/n’s shoulder. Y/n interlocked her fingers with the young girl’s and they stood in silence, drawing strength from one another.

A flock of crows cawing, flying away from something, broke their peace.

“Get back inside,” Y/n ordered, stepping into the street and following the direction the birds had fled from.

“No fuckin’ way,” Ellie argued, chasing after Y/n. It was wasted breath, telling her not to do something.

Y/n led them through a line of trees, staying low as they walked along a wooden fence. Through the shrubbery and snow, Y/n could spot several bodies a few hundred feet away and the tips of the rifles they carried.

David.

Neither of them dared to say a word, Y/n pushing Ellie backwards and hurriedly sneaking them back across the street to the house. They ran into the garage, quickly and quietly shutting the door behind them, before bolting through down to the basement.

“We gotta draw them away,” Ellie said, on the same wavelength as Y/n, “If they’re after him.”

“We ride back towards the university,” Y/n finished the thought, if there was a fight to be had, that was the best battleground.

Ellie slid across the basement’s floor, smacking Joel’s chest and shaking him by the arm, earning a gasp in return.

“Joel,” she urged, “Joel, wake up.”

“Joel,” Y/n called, she was already grabbing her rifle, “Joel, come on. Wake up!”

“He’s not fucking moving,” Ellie panicked, running off to her backpack.

Y/n took her place, grabbing Joel’s face in her hand, “Joel, I need you to fucking wake up. We need you. Now.”

Everything hit Joel’s ears as if he was underwater, three layers of sea between him and the words. The familiar voices were speaking urgently, in desperate tones. He found the strength to open his eyes, two tiny slits offering him a blurry view of Y/n.

“Keep them open, Joel,” Y/n urged, “Keep them open for me,”

Ellie returned with Joel’s knife, placing it in the hand across his chest, “Okay, okay, look at me. There are men coming, okay? We’re gonna lead them away from you, but if anybody makes it down here, you fuckin’ kill them. You got it?”

Joel’s eyes were beginning to glaze over again.

“Joel,” Y/n slapped his cheeks a few times, feeling him slipping from them, “Do not fall asleep right now. Stay the fuck awake.”

In the end, there was nothing else her or Ellie could do. David was coming and they had to act fast.

Y/n pressed a final, urgent kiss to Joel’s brow, before leaping to her feet with Ellie, praying that he was weakened rather than dead when they returned.

“We gotta block him in,” Y/n said as her and Ellie ran up the stairs, “Grab the china cabinet.”

The two of them maneuvered the hutch in front of the basement door, blockading the entrance as best they could. They ran out to the garage, quickly saddling both their horses and shoving the door back open.

“You ride in front of me the whole time,” Y/n ordered as she mounted her horse, “And if I go down, you don’t stop. You ride back to Tommy, got it?”

Ellie was ready to argue to the death on the point, “I-“

“You ride back to Tommy,” Y/n repeated, feeling the weight of what she was telling Ellie to do. It was the same one Joel had felt two days before.

Ellie rode out first, with Y/n bringing up her rear. She had her pistol off its holster and the rifle across her back, ready to do whatever necessary to keep Ellie and Joel alive.

They rode out the backyard, cutting past a few houses before coming out on the end of the street David and his men were creeping down.

“Hey, motherfuckers!” Ellie yelled just before her and Y/n began to fire. Ellie was shooting to warn, Y/n was shooting to kill.

As soon as the first bullets flew, making the men jump, Y/n and Ellie galloped off the same way they’d come from the university. Ellie listened and stayed ahead of Y/n as they rode. With each foot they gained, a new surge of determination flooded them both that they could make it. Y/n rotated on her horse and prepared to take another shot-

BANG! BANG!

One well timed bullet to Ellie’s horse sent the girl flying, landing harshly in the snow. The horse’s failed body tripped Y/n’s animal, she clutched the reins as she was thrown off, rolling into the snow as her spooked horse ran off.

“I got ‘em,” one of the men yelled.

“El,” Y/n grunted, belly crawling to Ellie, who managed to roll over onto her back. She was in a daze from the fall.

Y/n reached back for her rifle, scrambling to her feet as the crunch of boots began to surround her. She raised her gun at the first set of men, firing one bullet through one of their legs and sending him to the ground. She wasn’t quick enough to swing behind her and avoid the butt of one of their guns being driven into her head.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” the man muttered as Y/n fell.

It was a battle to stay awake through the dizziness, but Y/n managed to get to her knees, shielding the men from getting any closer to Ellie.

“Do it,” the same man who’d clubbed Y/n decided.

Even though they were her last moments, they didn’t feel like it to Y/n. She reached beside her to grab her pistol and cocked it. After twenty years of fighting, she wasn’t about to stop just because death and her were face to face. Not for Joel and certainly not for Ellie.

A shot fired into the air stopped the situation from escalating any further.

David came forward, standing over Y/n and Ellie. He cocked his head towards two of his men before Y/n, his disciples each grabbing one of Y/n’s arms and dragging her back.

“No,” she screamed, kicking wildly as David kneeled down beside Ellie and reached down to take her pulse, “Don’t you fucking touch her!”

David glanced up at Y/n, nearly amused by how aggravated she was. He removed his hand from Ellie, holding it up where she could see it. “Two of you with me,” he ordered, “Drag the horse,” he moved to pick Ellie up.

With all her strength, Y/n slammed her boot down onto one of her captor’s feet, causing his grip to loosen in the agony. She freed her arm and punched the second man at his temple, making him stumble backwards. “No!”

Y/n marched forwards, shoving David’s hands off of Ellie’s body, “She’s my fuckin’ kid.”

David watched every move, thoroughly evaluating the woman in front of him. He removed his hands and stood to his feet slowly, adhering to her demand.

Y/n brushed the loose strands of Ellie’s hair off her wet face, the sight of her unconscious nearly incapacitating Y/n with fear.

“The rest of you go door to door,” David continued his orders, “You so hungry for vengeance? Deliver it.”

Y/n’s head had barely turned before she caught herself. It was better for them to think Joel was up and about and that she had nothing to worry about. Internally, she felt fear spread to the very tips of her fingers.

David began to lead the way as Y/n lifted Ellie into her arms, beginning the two mile hike back to David’s community. She didn’t know what fate they were being marched towards, but she knew one thing.

She’d burn down the whole fucking town before she let anything happen to Ellie.

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us spoilers #twenty years later

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circeius-invidioso · 1 month

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I do not get why the Red Corsairs are not a popular choice.

Like.

Like here is the elevator pitch for the warband and then we can come to some justified conclusion.

What isn't there to love?

You want me to turn into an infomencial and make a top 3 reasons why the Red Corsairs are great?

Cause I can.

And I will.

The Diverse Working Enviroment

Here in the Red Corsairs we might have started as Ultramarines but the barrier for entry is on the floor. So anyone can join.

You are Night Lord with a bad rep and no ship.

Buckle up we got you covered.

You are a Fallen and have 20 Dark Angels all up in yo business? Trying to shoot down the boss babe you are?

Fear not, or in our case. Know no Fear. We are strapped and don't get clapped.

You are a traitor that likes their Legion but sadly you got in our way?

Tough luck buddy, you will join or die and your geene seed will join our cause. Nothing personal battle brother. Just business as usual.

Everyone is welcome as long as they follow Huron's guidelines and don't aggitate the topless sweaty Khorne worshipping Ultramarines in the basement.

Sustainability

Unlike the corrupt Imperium of man and the corpse Emperor our leader is powered by miracles (which is trully a miracle how he survived but that on the next section), and we use 0 psyckers to power our crap.

Our carbon footprint is also minimum as we use salvaged goods and don't indulge in toxic industries that destroy worlds.

The Red Corsair base of operation is in the Eye of Terror and from there we expand our scope. A place greatly known for its constant shifts, and horrible conditions but the tan our serfs have are spectacullar from all that cosmic radiation.

Finally we are commited to recycling. As in we take from our victims benefactors and put those stolen goods to some great use. Nothing goes to waste, neither mortal, nor static object. If something is not nailed on the floor we will take it.

In fact we might take the floor too and the nails used to set it in place.

Nothing goes to waste!

Unmatched Leadership

Last, but certainly not least.

The man.

The myth.

The Legend.

Huron Blackheart.

Aka Lufgt Huron.

Aka what would happen if we gave a compressed Guilliman a daemonic familiar and left him to ferment in a warp storm.

Not only the name is so edgy you might cut yourself by saying it out loud. But also it's complex enough that if you say it quickly three times without twisting your tongue theres is a chance furniture might start levitating.

The man has put his Ultramarine brain to use and amased enough influence and power to put the Black Legion to shame.

Huron went from 0 to 100 in no time, he is a self made Warmaster. With no daddy issues or troubles in the world, he goes into battle blasting Alestorm in the voxxcasters.

He does not care.

He probably wears this when he wants to relax.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

He has a biker gang specifically organized to hunt down those who have betrayed him.

They slap those things on their armors not for the usual biker reason

(which fun fact the meaning is, 99% of the bikers are law-abiding, where the 1% are not. That's where the 1% comes from. The more you know 🌈)

no they wear that 1% because that's how high are your chances of escaping from them are.

Is that a bit extreme?

Yes.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

The dude once gathered his buddies and decided...

to you know. Have a casual outing. Nothing too serious, it was a sunday afteral.

So they decided on.

Kidnapping Guilliman.

Which they almost did if not for a Fallen of all people getting in the way.

But still.

The mad lad took Macragge's Honour and went on a joyride/ mini civil war.

Who in the galaxy can turn and say.

Yeah, I stole Macragge's Honour, almost captured my old Primarch. Told a daemon prince they are irrelevant on my way there. Anyway after crushing a fool who thought he could take my crown as king of the space pirates, I went to the home planet of the White Scars and kidnapped and tortured their Chapter Master. What did you do this week? 💅

Who wouldn't want to be a part of that?

You tell me I can be an immortal, gorgeous chaos Ultramarine goth boy going on pirate adventures across the galaxy?

Where do I sign up?

I don't need ink for a signature.

I will use my own blood.

#warhammer #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #wh40k #shitpost #red corsairs #chaos ultramarines #chaos space marines #games workshop #black library #huron is the chaos ultramarines representation we deserve

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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I truly love your writing and wanted to put in a request for Wednesday. She has a nightmare (you know, those pretty vivid ones that feel insanely real) about the reader dying, and she already wakes up with tears rolling down her cheeks, and because of her story with the visions, this nightmare gets her really scared, so she sneaks out of her dorm because she needs to be sure that reader is okay, and getting there reader wakes up and realizes that Wednesday has been crying, and after some insistence, Wednesday allows herself to be comforted and melt in reader's arms? Thank you

“I thought i could stop it Wednesday. I thought I could end this seemingly never ending nightmare…for all of us.” You told Wednesday weakly as you bled out in her arms, face and body torn to bloody ribbons as your clothes were barely hanging on by threads; much like you were. Prior to now Wednesday found herself wandering the woods, seemingly lost as a little girl while the frost that lightly caked the ground nipped at her feet and the howling winds of sheer cold scratched and clawed at any aspect of her exposed skin that’d be susceptible.

She had been following a blood trail that looked a few hours old and were already crystallised and muddied by frosted flakes ground; however the further she ventured in pursuit of uncovering a potential mystery, the blood became fresher, brighter, untouched by mud nor frost. Wednesday wondered that if she knew where that blood trail would lead her, would she still venture forth valiantly or back away to sustain her ignorant belief that you were alive, sleeping in your dormitory safely. As she knelt herself down against the rigid ground, hearing the stiffened blades of dead grass crunch, bend and snap under her like bones.

Wednesday held your rapidly depleting body against hers as she tried to keep her tears at bay for letting yet another person close to her gain a close encounter with death before herself. From touching your arm alone, Wednesday knew that she had came far too late to do anything and by joe you have lost far too much blood to even move never-less stand on your own two feet that were giving way to frost bite or numoania; You had barely even reacted when she first arrived to see the blood covered snow pooling beneath you as you laid slumped against a tree.

One question lingered on her head as she cradled you against her in naive hopes that some of her body warmth would be transferred over, Why did you go alone? You knew the Hyde was a powerful foe, capable of disembowelling a person with a single swipe of his claws. So why did you think that you’d be able to take him on alone? Why didn’t you bring back up? Why didn’t you bring her? Sure neither of you would’ve stood a chance but at least you could’ve died together against that tree. “You absolute idiot! You know how the Hyde is y/n! He’s a merciless murderer, what delusion did you come up with that made you think that you could stop him?”

Her voice came across weak, pathetic and broken as the grass beneath the imprints of her footfalls. She felt her undead heart fracture and crack under the intense emotional overload she was experiencing in that moment it became borderline suffocating. Her chest seemed to tighten with every rasp of breath that you took, it tightened even more so with every little spec of life that was drained from your eyes, each constriction was tighter then the last that Wednesday thought for certain that this was how she was going to die; of a broken heart.

“For you,” you stated weakly before turning away to cough up blood that splattered on the found next to you, staining it a deep pink, “for Enid, for Xavier, for Ajax, for Eugene, for everyone and anyone who has or will suffer because of it and as for revenge for those who have already been slain by it.” You reached a cold hand and pressed it against her own. Just as she suspected, your had was cold, too cold that ice might as well have run through your veins but that didn’t deter her in grasping your hand tightly; taking in the fact that you didn’t even flinch when she dug her nails into your skin.

You’ve already lost all feeling within your limbs at this point and calling out into the void for help was useless; in the end Wednesday was forced to watch as you began to go limp in her arms and as your breathing stopped, Wednesday finally let loose a few tears that dropped down onto your cheeks where they crystallised from the cold. “You idiot,” she uttered under her breath as she pressed her forehead against your cold one, “you fucking idiot, acting the hero when nobody asked you to…why…goddamn it why.”

Wednesday broke from her nightmare with a gasp as she bolted up in her bed to see that she was no longer in the frigid woods where you died but the warm dormitory she shared with Enid, who was sleeping soundly across from her. It felt real…too real for her liking that Wednesday feared that it might be a vision of a future yet to come, one she couldn’t prevent; She felt something wet and warm trickling down her cheeks and reached a hand up to wipe away at it, awaiting to see the crimson of your blood smeared across the pads of her fingertips, only to find that she had been crying, both in her nightmare and in reality.

She lets out a unsteady sigh as she absentmindedly started to rub at her arms as though trying to rid herself of the phantom cold that still nipped at her skin even in her awoken state. Wednesday could still feel your cold body pressed in her arms that she would’ve thought that she had somehow carried your spirit over with her and now you were tasked with haunting her into insanity. The lines between her dreams, visions and reality has became too blurred for Wednesday’s liking that she found herself being pushed into sneaking out of her dorm by her fear and urge to know for definite that you weren’t out in those woods alone right now, marching towards your final battleground.

She had to know that you were safe, no, she needed to know the you were safe; She’d hunt you down and tie you to something if she must if it meant keeping you alive. So when she slipped past the door to your room, thankful for the privilege you got for having the entire dormitory to yourself. Wednesday was even more thankful that when she turned to look towards your bed and found that you had woken yourself up. “Wednesday? What’re you doing here you know Weems is going to blow a fuse if-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence as Wednesday full on tackled you back into the bed, squeezing you tightly within her hug that only continued to constrict you against her as though you were a stress toy.

You were about to make a comment on how strong she was for someone of her stature and build, you quickly threw it out of the window when your whole body went rigid right as you felt something wet tricking down the side of your neck and collarbone followed by a series of sniffles; That’s when reality hit you, she was crying, Wednesday Addams was crying into your shoulder. You pressed a hand against her back, rubbing it comfortingly as you allowed her to practically concave your ribcage under the guise of relief, you’d happily die in her arms if that’s what it took to console her.

“Hey, what happened.” You asked her softly and just as you were getting use to having Wednesday in your arms, she was already pushing herself away from you, fury burning within her dark teary eyes as they looked at every inch of you like she was seeing a ghost. Her hands grasped at your face, fingers smoothing over your skin in certain areas, sighing in relief when what she was trying to find wasn’t there which only made you weepy even more. You knew that Wednesday gets visions now and then and how realistic they were but she handled them accordingly but you guessed that whatever she experienced tonight was even worse then her visions; a nightmare.

A nightmare that included you to some capacity and that made you fret over her well-being more so then how you personally felt about being within someone else’s nightmare, nor the questions you held about your position within them. “I had a nightmare, you died being an idiot and going after the Hyde alone, acting the self righteous hero.” Her words would be stung has the situation been a little different but with how tightly her hands gripped your face and the fear still running rampant in her heart, you couldn’t blame Wednesday for acting and feeling the way that she did. “Of course I’m an idiot but you know I would never do that shit if i knew it would only end up inexplicably hurting you.” You said softly as you press your head against hers, feeling her unsteady breathing as it brushed past your cheeks unevenly.

Wednesday was still frightened from what she witnessed and she wasn’t certain wether she was still in her dream or actually within reality with you. Her mind was frazzled and her emotions kept spiking out of control as her chest began to mimic that constricting feeling she felt within her nightmare. She didn’t know what to do and she didn’t dare close her eyelids in fear of seeing your dead eyes staring at her almost accusatory and on top of all that, she felt like she couldn’t get a single ounce of breath within her lungs from her overwhelming anxiety. You took one of her hands from your face and placed it to where your heart was located, “you feel that? That’s how you know I’m alive. I’m right here Wednesday, I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you want me to and right now you need to know that I’m still alive, that I’m still here.”

You told her as you squeezed her hand tightly so that she could feel your bodily warmth burn into the back of her hand. “This isn’t a sick dream is it?” Your heart broke for Wednesday, seeing the next batch of tears welling in her eyes as the hand that gripped your heart tightened it’s hold on your shirt. You prepped kisses into her forehead and hair as you managed to draw her closer into your chest, watching how she practically closed herself within you; her face replaced her hand as it was firmly pressed against your heart and her arms quickly clung themselves to your back as her nails clawed the fabric of your shirt. “No, even if it was I’d let you kill me for lying to you. Now shall we attempt to go back to sleep?”

“Please.” Wednesday whispered against your chest and you somehow managed to tuck the pair of you back into your bed, throwing the covers over both of you as sleep then drifted you back into it’s realm where you and Wednesday were lying in the frosted flakes woods together, warmly clothed and alive.

#Wednesday x reader #Wednesday x you #Wednesday fic #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday imagine #Wednesday Addams x reader #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams imagines

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nanowrimo · 9 months

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5 Tips for Building a Sustainable Writing Practice

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. First Draft Pro, a 2023 Camp NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a great writing app—whether you’re writing solo or with a co-author. Here are a few tips for building a sustainable writing practice, brought to you by author Ariana Brown and First Draft Pro.

We’ve all heard the advice to “write every day,” as if it were that easy! Translation: suck it up, no one cares if you’re tired. But what if there was another way to get writing done, without being unkind to yourself?

Hi, I’m Ariana Brown, and I teach writers how to create a writing practice that is sustainable, flexible, and fulfilling. Most of my students are chronically ill, disabled, neurodivergent, or simply exhausted from the daily stresses of life. I know writing isn’t your only responsibility—capitalism makes sure of that! But I strongly believe that writing should be an enjoyable activity you look forward to.

Below I’ve compiled my top tips for exhausted writers who want to be kinder to themselves—and still get the work done.

1. Add pleasure to your writing routine.

Sensory pleasures are neither frivolous nor are they only for children. They’re a crucial part of being alive! They give us something to look forward to when times are tough and we need motivation. Candles, soft blankets, cold beverages, mood lighting, dance breaks, yummy treats—whatever you choose, make sure it’s something you love. Paint your nails a fun color so you have something beautiful to look at while you’re typing away. Make a playlist of your favorite songs and after you finish a chapter, blast one song so loudly you have to get up and dance. Then, get back to writing. Remember, even for the most focused among us, pleasure is a better motivator than shame.

2. Be clear about your intentions.

What brought you to writing in the first place? For some, it was the ability to escape into our imaginations. For others, it was the chance to finally express what we’d been holding inside. Identify your reason for writing, then ask yourself: Am I still enjoying this? Do I still feel connected to my reason for writing? If not, explore how you can strengthen your connection to your inner child’s reason for writing.

3. Work with your brain, not against it.

If we know that everyone’s brain works differently, why do we force strict discipline and linear processes on ourselves? My advice: find or create a writing process that works for you. Maybe you love outlines; maybe you prefer to see where the words take you. Either way, make space for wandering, play, and discovery as you write. Take brain breaks. Doodle, map, dance, and draw when you get distracted. Body double with other writers, try new exercises and prompts to make the writing sing, and take plenty of breaks to stretch your body and talk to friends. We come to writing with our whole selves. Listen to your body, don’t shut it off.

4. Find a writing community.

You don’t have to wait for a community to come to you! I offer co-writing sessions on Zoom four times a month for my Patreon supporters, but do what works for you. Attend local open mics as an audience member and cheer on your peers. Invite your best friends to your living room once a month for a two hour writing/crafting session. Or check your local library and bookstores for free workshops and author events. You don’t have to do this work alone.

5. Develop a gratitude practice.

Finishing your draft is a huge accomplishment, but it’s not the only milestone to be celebrated. Consider creating opportunities to thank yourself throughout your writing practice. You’re doing an amazing and difficult thing. The fact that you keep showing up is worthy of celebration. Whether you decide to journal, rest, pray, meditate, or reward yourself, a little gratitude goes a long way.

Ariana Brown is a queer writer from San Antonio, TX, based in Houston. She is the author of We Are Owed (Grieveland, 2021) and Sana Sana (Game Over Books, 2020), and a national collegiate poetry slam champion. Ariana holds an MFA in Poetry, MS in Library and Information Science, and a BA in African Diaspora Studies and Mexican American Studies. She has been writing, teaching, and performing for over a decade. Follow her online @ArianaThePoet and www.arianabrown.com.

#nanowrimo #writing advice #executive dysfunction #neurodivergent writers #disabled writers #by nano sponsor #first draft pro #ariana brown

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cipheramnesia · 7 months

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There's just a vast gulf of difference to it. When your wealthy and powerful character is consuming human flesh and blood, it is inevitably from the position of the powerful maintaining power, as someone permitted by wealth and power to indulge the taste for consuming other humans as an exceptionally exotic kind of meal. The flesh and blood is alienated from the proletariat, transformed by its place on the menu of this particularly powerful set of individuals from human connection into the ultimate expression of power.

It appears desirable, even erotic, how the base matter of our lives, in the hands and on the palate of these beings of incomprehensible power, is treated with a reverence and care which we ourselves, as the poor or lower classes, were never once deemed worth. The fantasy of cannibalism by the vampire is one of worship, it is a horror that they sustain themselves on us, but to be considered so desirable and pampered even if only as a portion of flesh is an aphrodisiac.

Cannibalism of each other, by one another, is a different beast entirely. It is our urgency to be as close to another person as possible. Loving someone so much and with such intensity that we need one another in every dimension from emotionally all the way up to our flesh in each other. It's the transference of some of the most basic needs of survival, food and procreation, between one another. When all around us the world is a struggle of survival, when we find each other and cling tight, our own flesh is the manifestation of that urgency.

Raw appetite for everything in the world we can consume, not because it is ours by right of privilege, but because it is ours through need. The consumption of flesh is neither exotic nor exalted, and it remains attached to the humanity from whence it came. Whether it is the zombie or werewolf consuming raw meat from the warm carcass, or the butcher who looks into the eyes of a human and does not flinch with the hammer, it is a need and hunger and yearning that can never see a line between ourselves and our meat.

And isn't it just the most capitalist of ideas that being considered a delicacy at the table of the wealthy is so much more romanticized and popularized than being meat to one another. The exceptionalism of the USA demands everyone see themselves as a millionaire temporarily embarrassed for funds, and as the most important dish at the dinner of those with power. We would do better to remember to ourselves that, one way or another, we all have sharp teeth.

#cannibalism

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drakaripykiros130ac · 1 month

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TG stans trying to use Andal law to justify Aegon’s claim to the throne: don’t bother.

Andal law states that a daughter comes before an uncle.

So…

Why was Aerea passed over for Jaehaerys?

Why was Rhaenys passed over for Baelon?

Why was Rhaenyra passed over for Daemon?

The only tradition I see here is the one where legitimate female heirs are passed over in favor of their uncles simply because they are women.

And just because the Targaryens converted to the Faith, that doesn’t mean that Andal law applies to them fully. There have been many situations where the Targaryens have been ‘excused’ so to speak.

Aegon the Conqueror was permitted to be married to Visenya and Rhaenys at the same time. The law against polygamy was overlooked this time. And just because the Targaryens decided not to practice it later on (possibly so as to not start another conflict with the Faith), that doesn’t mean that they couldn’t do it. They could have continued to do it and they would have gotten away with it. Why? Because they have dragons. Dragons = power.

Then there’s the law of exceptionalism which allows Targaryens to marry within the family. Another exception.

All in all, basing Aegon’s claim on tradition and Andal law is not helping his cause one bit. Because neither tradition nor Andal law had been 100% respected since the Conquest.

On the other hand, Rhaenyra’s claim is based on a royal decree and the oaths swore to her by the Lords of the Realm (which actually mean something). Where there is no specific law of succession when it comes to the Iron Throne, the King’s word is what matters.

So yes, Viserys had every legal right to make Rhaenyra, his firstborn child, his heir. Because the King’s word is law. It’s one of those situations where you have a certain amount of power but certain people (like Council members) expect you not to use it. Viserys did, and it caught everyone off guard. His decision was perfectly legit but didn’t fit with the traditional misogynistic mentality, not to mention with the ambitions of the Hightower upstarts.

I have heard plenty of people state that a King has to abide by the laws of the Realm and he cannot do whatever he wants.

Well, if that’s the case, then Jaehaerys should have been obliged by Andal law to make Rhaenys his heir after Prince Aemon died. But he didn’t. Because it would have put into question his own claim to the throne. So, he picked his other son, Prince Baelon.

Queen Alysanne knew the laws well, which is why she supported Rhaenys (not because of some “girl power” desire). She knew that according to tradition and law, Rhaenys was the rightful heir.

The rules are altered, respected or ignored whenever it suits the patriarchy. This is precisely what GRRM has been trying to convey.

Alicent’s son is not the rightful heir. His ascension was the consequence of Hightower ambition, sustained by certain Council members who would rather have a usurper on the throne than a legitimate ruler who is a woman.

One of the things that I love about the story of the Dance is that despite the patriarchy going strong, we still see that mentality is changing, hence how Rhaenyra had the most supporters (53 Houses). The Hightowers expected to take the throne easily with the support of the entire Realm, because they were convinced that no one would S choose a Queen over a King. They thought wrong.

#team black #pro team black #rhaenyra targaryen #anti aegon ii targaryen #anti aegon ii #anti aegon ii stans #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #the dragon queen #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra i #house of the dragon #hotd #anti team green #jaehaerys i targaryen #viserys i targaryen #good queen alysanne

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probablyasocialecologist · 7 months

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When plastic straws were banned, new alternative straws of paper, bamboo, and glass were advertised as more sustainable, eco-friendly, and healthy. Groffen’s team wanted to know if they hold up to the hype, but they found that the majority of them do not. With the exception of the stainless steel straws they tested, all of the brands they examined—which are commercially available in Belgium—contained chemicals that are harmful not only for the environment, but also for people. Known as PFAS, which stands for poly- and perfluoroalkyl substances, and dubbed forever chemicals, these compounds don’t break down under heat or sunlight and dissolve in neither water nor oil. For a few decades these PFAS were the darlings of the chemical industry, used in everything from fire-resistant cushions to water-repellant clothing and from nonstick pan coating to disposable plates. Unfortunately, what makes PFAS so durable in kitchenware and other products is also what makes it last so long in the environment. More importantly, in recent years, scientists have linked them to a gamut of damaging health effects, including thyroid disease, high cholesterol, pregnancy problems, liver damage, and several cancers. They have also been linked to adverse reproductive, developmental and immunological effects in animals. The team found PFAS to be present in 90 percent of the paper straws, 80 percent of bamboo, 75 percent of plastic, and 40 percent of glass ones.

#plastic #plastic straws #pollution #plastic waste #forever chemicals #lads you absolutely fucked it

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ride-thedragon · 9 months

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The worst thing about Rhaenyra is the inherent need her fans have to moralize the protagonist. Rhaenyra isn't a good person.

That's okay.

Rhaenyra isn't a feminist.

That's okay.

She is not a girl's girl and that's fine.

It's so unfair that people can unapologetically Stan Aegon and Daemon but draw the line at morally questionable women.

We love gray characters until a character is truly gray and a woman.

Rhaenyra isn't better than Alicent, nor is Alicent better than Rhaenyra. These women are both brought to the heel of their patriarchal society at the helm of the most power it affords to women.

Neither of them are intersectional thinkers or necessarily progressing women's rights. Rhaenyra would rule then her son. Alicent will just have her son and grandson's rule.

It's a disservice to her character to pander to the idea of moral righteousness or bettering.

What happens to her happens because she is a woman. At every turn, her womanhood and the role of it will pigeon hold her in this society. That does not excuse her very questionable behavior.

Two things can be true.

For example, using my favorite girl, Nettles.

Under Viserys' rule with Alicent and Otto ruling this young girl is a sex worker to sustain her life. She is assumed to have lost her virginity to eat and was disfigured as punishment for wanting to eat. That was her assumed life under their rule. The entire time she has the capability to be a dragon rider.

Had it fallen normally to Rhaenyra nothing would've changed for her and like most of the women we see in that line of work she'd die at the hands of someone or from illness or pregnancy all while being able to claim a dragon.

Women do not need to be exceptional.

( Not everyone can be Nettles)

Women can just be legally named the heir and be heir.

But to impose a moral code that these characters can never live up to is unfortunate. Again, I rise and say I love Rhaenyra, and I understand that she's been groomed by a crazy person and has the moral compass of every Targaryen after the conquest. She's that girl. I'm sorry for those who don't get it or feel the need to justify it.

I also love Alicent, and as a victim of white people's nonsense in 2020 and the Hollywoodification of the feminist movement in the 2010s, you'll never see hate a woman when men are to blame. Seeing someone try to care about something, she has no understanding or ability to truly escape from is hard and a lot of you project the lack of understanding most people have had when it comes to feminism on her as a means to seem above her and what she does. We all fall short and to villanize her for it, is crazy, especially when the person we compare her to has access to do better and doesn’t pursue it.

I'm still waiting for y'all to dislike Daemon for killing a wife, sleeping with a woman at his wife's funeral, and strangling the other after she miscarried their child. Let's not mistake splinters for planks.

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contentloadingandstuff · 2 months

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Dark Days - Yae Miko x Male!Reader

A/N: That's right, angst is on the menu today boyz. CW: Descriptions of disease, Kitsune!Reader, Reader death.

Creatures of lesser might are naturally attracted to their superiors. The strongest wolf leads the pack, the biggest Hilichurl commands the others, even the fascinating humans flock to the banners of those strongest in body or mind. Kitsune are no exception.

There wasn't a day in your centuries of life that was lacking in kitsune. Those of your kind that haven't yet reached sapience always seemed to somehow stumble into your presence, guided by some sort of inexplicable magnetism. You and Miko often debated on the reason why these sly creatures could always find you. Maybe they sought to learn from you and follow your lead into ascension? Perhaps it was simply instinct or scent mixed with curiosity, it wasn't clear. What was clear, however, was that you couldn't help but interact with them. Their little ears and cute snouts never failed to make you share some delicious fish or egg with them.

Foxes didn't make for good pets only, however. They could understand your commands and would carry them out flawlessly, as long as they were within their ability. Their main use was delivering letters from you and to you. What better use than make them the envoys of the Envoys? The irony never ceased to amuse you.

There were some quarrels every now and then, obviously. These were still wild animals at heart. Sometimes they were moody and would stay away, sometimes you would accidentally step on their tail, earning a squeak and an offended glare from them. When one of these cuties would get too much into playtime, you would get a nibble or two. Neither you nor Miko paid any mind - they were shallow at worst and healed within a single day or two.

That day wasn't any different. Miko needed to send a message to a Shumuutsuban agent, and she enlisted your help. You called a kitsune over, and before long one emerged from the nearby shrubbery. Just when it approached and you leaned down to attach the message to its back did you notice how dirty and skinny the creature was. It seemed dazed, its steps were unsure and shaky, lacking the usual tact and elegance of your kind’s thread. Regardless, you gave it directions. Just as you moved your hands closer, the fox sank its teeth into your hand.

You yelped and struck it with a painful, but harmless Electro shock, and it scurried away. Never did you see a fox so snappy, and you were Miko’s husband. Ultimately, you cursed the animal under your breath and moved on with your day.

Days passed. Absorbed by the soon approaching summer festival, you didn’t pay attention to the minor injury you sustained, even when the red spot didn’t seem to go away as it should. Miko noticed it by accident one day and questioned you. You just shrugged.

“I guess it’s sunburn? I really should apply some sun cream.”

You did as you said, but even after an entire week of careful treatment, the “burn” was still where it was. More - it seemingly expanded, with the skin feeling just as smooth as the rest of your body. Miko’s curiosity turned into concern when the area became hot to the touch. Something wasn’t quite right with your hand, and yet you claimed to feel nothing out of the ordinary. To test this, Miko pinched your skin and was promptly taken aback by your complete lack of reaction to the stimulus.

When the heat spread through your whole body, you called in a physician. Much to Miko’s relief, a short examination revealed that it was nothing but a minor infection from a neglected cut.

Your wife spoke her farewells to the good doctor and took a few days off to keep you company. After all, what good would the medicine do you if you didn’t have the support you needed? Your fever dropped, giving both of you some much needed peace of mind. It was a fantastic opportunity to spoil you, even if kisses or cuddling were out of the picture - Miko didn’t want to bother with coughs, fever or any of the many unpleasantries sickness carried with itself. You were positively adorable, resting in the guest bed and becoming all flustered whenever she brought you tea, food or read you a book.

But her smile was short-lived.

Just a few days after the visit, the fever returned, higher than ever. Your forehead was close to burning to the touch. With the fever came sweat - constant sweat, drenching every bit of the sheets and blankets. Shivering, you lost most water in your body almost overnight.

When Miko saw you in the morning, a cold shiver ran down her spine. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your eyes wide open and blinking slightly, your skin shiny with sweat. You mumbled to her about wanting something to drink, but your voice was… wrong. Damaged, hoarse, as if your very throat had been scraped and mangled by a knife. There was a thick line of drool flowing from your agape mouth.

“Water…” You moaned. “Please…”

It wasn’t long before a glass of the drink rested in your hand. Despite your state, your delirious expression betrayed hesitation. Miko stretched out her arm to hold you, but stopped herself shortly. She couldn’t risk catching whatever you had.

“Honey, please drink it. It will do your body good.” She spoke in a calm, almost motherly voice, soothing and composed.

With a shaking hand you lifted the glass to your lips. As soon as the water touched your lip, your throat spasmed, forcing you to spit it out. The glass fell to the floor, its life saving contents rejected by your very self.

Miko spoke not a word more and rushed to the palace. It didn’t take long to explain the emergency, as Ei has been paying visits to your house ever since your condition confined you to the bed. Within less than an hour Ei gathered every medic she had at her service and led them back to you.

—

Miko leads the humans through her house. Her steps are nervous, yet determination shines in her pupils. Everything will be alright now that the very Shogun brought the best of the best to your bedside.

She opens your door, able to cast just one pained glance at your restless, miserable form. Your breathing is so heavy she can hear it from beyond the threshold. Miko turns to Ei, who nods at the doctors. They move into the room one by one. Miko turns to follow them, but is stopped by Ei’s arm on her shoulder.

“Trust them. They know their trade and focus is what they need now.”

Miko looks down. She shakes her head. “Yes. Of course.”

They sit down in the living room. Miko is fidgeting with her fingers. No words exit the lips of any of the two women. The tension hangs thick in the room, audible sounds of the researchers murmuring to each other being the only to break the deafening silence.

Before long, the door opens. Miko jumps up and watches the men approach. Their expressions, graced with many scars of experience and age, are bleak. They look at each other nervously. Miko can hardly contain herself.

“Speak!” She growls. “What is happening to my husband?”

One of them coughs. “It is…”

Silence.

“Hydrophobia.” Another completes the sentence.

Miko’s eyes grow wide. A smile of disbelief makes its way to her lips. She scoffs.

“What? You can’t be serious.”

Reading the room, Ei stands by Miko in silence.

“Lady Yae Miko, we are certain-” “So what if it is hydrophobia? Treat it.” Her eyes narrow.

“There is no known cure to the disease. We are sorry.”

“Ah, is that so?”

She makes a step forward. Her eyes meet those of the medic.

“Fascinating. Isn’t it your job to cure? If you cannot do that, then what use are you, anyway?”

The man tugs at the collar of his outfit. His eyes dart from the kitsune to the floor and back.

“You are worthless.”

Her open hand raises and lands on the cheek of the elderly man, the sheer force of the blow making him reel back. Miko bares her fangs in rage, but before she can do another move, Ei grabs her by her kimono and turns her body to face her.

“Stop this! Do not raise your hand at them, they are not the ones to blame.”

Miko groans and tries to push her friend away, but the god’s superior strength renders her efforts futile. Their eyes meet. Ei remains calm and collected. The stillness of her features chills Miko’s anger.

Moments pass in silence.

“We need to secure him. We cannot risk him going feral and hurting anybody.” She speaks, the decisiveness in her voice plain to hear.

“I know.”

A tear runs down Miko’s cheek. She smiles through the choking sensation, wiping her eyes with her hand.

“I… I just don’t… want him to l-leave.” She shakes her head. “Not yet. N-not yet.”

Miko lets her gaze fall downwards. Ei issues a command and the doctors re-enter your room. The fox remains paralyzed, her mind too dazed to form a coherent sentence.

She wants to speak out. Protest. She wants to rip the humans to shreds, limb from limb, she wants to spit blasphemies at Ei for letting all this happen. At the same time, she wants to fall to her knees and kiss their feet, begging them to do something. Anything.

But her mind knows. It knows that she shouldn't lash out as she sees the scientists take you out of your bed on a stretcher, yet her mind struggles. To understand.

The stretcher stops next to her. She places her hand on the towel covering your forehead, her finger still bearing the ring that bound you and her together all these years ago.

“Goodbye, my love.”

Until death does us apart.

Thanks for reading.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #angst #genshin impact angst #yae miko #miko x reader #yae miko x reader #yae miko x male reader #yae miko x y/n #yae miko x you #yae miko angst #miko x male reader #miko x you #miko x y/n #miko angst

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spacebarbarianweird · 3 months

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Hi 👋

Can I request some Astarion x Shadow magic Sorcerer!Tav headcannons, please? Been reading through 5e classes and now I'm kinda obsessed with this one 😅

Anyway, have a great day!

One more subclass I didn't know about! Their magic comes from the Shadow Plane and they are more dead than alive.

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Shadow Sorcerer!Tav

You are always icy cold to the touch.

When you are asleep, you don't appear to breathe.

You barely bleed, even when badly injured.

Your heart beats once per minute.

You blinked. Once. Last week.

Though, you weren't born like that - you fell victim to shadow magic.

The spark of life that sustains you is bleak as if it is trying to resist the dark energy entering your soul.

You stink of death, even though you're alive.

The Emperor chooses you for you have nothing to lose.

The tadpole can break the curse, and even now you can feel your heart beating and breathe freely.

You perfectly fit to the party - yet another suffering soul without a choice.

Astarion makes the grave mistake of biting you - your blood is tainted with shadows, it's the same as feeding on another vampire.

But you fall so hard for him, you can't believe yourself.

Your heart of shadows beats for this vampire.

You are both very cold and wrap each other in blankets sitting by the fire.

But still, the shadows call upon you, they cloud your mind and Astarion often has to go looking for you while you wander somewhere like a somnambula.

You ask Astarion if he is afraid of you.

He isn't,

He fears neither your darkness nor your shadows.

As soon as the tadpole is removed, the shadows take over you.

Your body is cold, your heart almost doesn't beat, your face is pale.

A cloak of shadow envelops your body, and your hound, the Hound of ill Omens, returns!

The tadpole made your forget it but here it is! Your loyal dog!

It howls, and you both disappear in the shadows..

It doesn't take you much time to find Astarion in the sewers, with his eyes glowing red.

He stares at you in awe as if you are the most beautiful person ever.

You make him a shadow cape - that protects him from the sunlight for a bit, but he does't use it too often.

You are bound by darkness, by shadows, and together you find comfort in it.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume

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