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#but it was the first time since suspecting i have Something other than depression/anxiety that i was SURE i had adhd

theetherealbloom · 1 year

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UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 6

Chapter Six: I Swear A Million Times To Hold You Just The Way You Like

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER AHH, (besties wrap it up!) Lowkey this chapter was poorly edited so sorry! Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Suicide, FLUFF, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, INFECTED, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk! (MINORS, please run away :,)

Word Count: 17.3k (I hope this makes up for the delay my bad)

A/N: HELLAUR HOOMANS! Thank you again for all the love and support you have given me for this series! I truly appreciate you all for being here <3 This chapter and episode feels a little bit personal to write since I am someone who also has PTSD, so when I watched Pedro’s performance during those difficult panic attack scenes, I truly felt represented and seen. For me, my PTSD is subtle and not overly loud or noticeable at first glance, so when I saw it being portrayed that way I started ugly crying pls--

Song: Sweet Disaster by Oh Wonder

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

THREE MONTHS LATER…

WYOMING WILDERNESS, HEADING WEST – DAY

It’s been three months since the incident, and neither of you spoke about what happened that morning in Kansas City. The past few months of walking West have proven a challenge as the seasons begin to change. As you suspected, you noticed Joel slowly let Ellie in; he taught her how to look for tracks and how to properly keep watch the first time he fell asleep. Her questioning, her loving attitude, her nasty language, everything entered his heart gradually. He hadn't planned on it, but he now cares for her. You, on the other hand, were already fond of her, you taught her the more “fun” activities. Like looking for more constellations as time passes by, continuing educating her ASL, and teaching a few of your favorite songs from your original reality.

You occasionally hummed as the seasons changed, trying to fill the silence and somber with music. Joel and Ellie didn’t seem to mind, you asked if they were bothered or annoyed but Joel grunted, “Better than Ellie asking a million more questions.” You simply chuckled while Ellie protested and began to defend herself. And then there were the moments you couldn’t quite label. Small touches between you and Joel, providing each other comfort now and then, knowing how bad the loneliness can get to anyone. A squeeze on your shoulder, the brushing of fingers, and if you were lucky, you’d get to hold his hand for a period of time as you trekked through the terrain. You swore there were times you felt his gaze roaming every mile of skin you had, but every time you turned to look he was already busy doing something else.

The branches have exchanged their leaves for white sleeves and all warm-blooded creatures make ghosts as they breathe. As gentle as feathers, the snow piles high, this world gets rewritten and retraced every time. After seeing Cody crawling with infected, you three headed out to the large forest to find out if Tommy is still alive and in hiding. Even Ellie tried to point out that there was a possibility he didn’t make it, but as Joel had said before, he was persistent.

You came across a cozy cabin hidden in the forest. Realizing you had no other options, you had to ask for directions to where you were at the moment. A quiet and nice old lady, named Florence had resided and mentioned she was with her husband, Marlon. After making the soup she told three of you that her husband wouldn’t be happy they were in their home. You peeked past the curtains and out the window you saw he husband returning from hunting in the forest, hanging out two white rabbits by the door. Marlon walked inside his home to find her wife sitting upon the rocking chair, her gaze slowly moving towards Joel, him with his revolver out while you and Ellie are upstairs, quietly watching from the mezzanine.

Marlon reluctantly places his bow and arrows on the side entry table, removes his gloves, and unzips his outer jacket, while Joel grumbles out, “And the gun.” Marlon grunts, “Who the hell are you?” Joel walks a bit closer while demanding for him to cooperate, he says, “Just someone passing through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it out of reach.” The senior does as he’s told and places it on the other table and asks his wife who was quietly watching the interaction, “Why didn’t you shoot him?” She continues rocking back and forth, “The gun’s all the way over there. He didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes.” He nonchalantly replies and spots the empty soup bowl on the wooden living room table, “You made him soup?” Florence gives his husband an obvious answer, "Yeah, I did. It’s cold out.” He simply shakes his head and sits down on his own chair. “I’m looking for my brother.” Joel states and the other man replies and removes his cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.” Your cowboy shakes his head, “I haven’t told you what he looks like.”

“He look anything like you?” He asks and Joel tilts his head, “A bit.”

Ellie taps your arm and whispers to you, “It’s you and Joel from the future.” You frown and shake your head as you whisper back to her, “No.” The young girl rolls her eyes, “Whatever, you should see the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.” You blink at her, and you’re seemingly left speechless.

“Then I ain’t seen him,” He says, “He’s got a girl and his wife with him.” You hear Florence say and you nearly choke on air in surprise. Joel turns to look at her, pissed, and confused, and didn’t even bother to correct her. Ellie yells next to you, “Can I come down?” Joel raises his voice at her, “No! Ellie!” You couldn’t stop her as she excitedly runs downstairs, and you have no choice but to follow her.

The elderly couple laughs knowingly, Joel looks at you and Ellie, “What did I just say?” And you give him an apologetic look and Ellie replies, “Joel, come on. They’re like a thousand.” Marlon questions aloud, “Who’s this little psycho and her mother?” Your mouth slightly parted open, about to inform him that you weren’t married to Joel and you weren’t her mother but Joel dismissed it, “Never mind them. I need you to tell us where we are.” He went to the middle of the living room, shoving the map in his direction, cheekily the man throws back, “If you got a map, why you lost?” Ellie’s lips turn downwards as she replies sarcastically, “Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest.”

Marlon whistles out, “Holy.” And Florence chuckles, still enjoying the excitement that they haven’t had in years. Joel sighs and points out on the map, “We’re somewhere here. Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.” Marlon glances back at his wife, “Did you tell him the truth?” She nods, “Yeah.” He raises an eyebrow at her, “Are you telling me the truth?” She doesn’t hesitate, “Yeah.” He lets out a deep exhale as he leans over, pointing where you all were currently.

Joel places his revolver back in his holster, his eyebrows are furrowed and he sighs in frustration, “Well, you found a great place to hide, I guess.” He sits down and you sit right next to him and Ellie mimics you both. “Hide? Came here before you were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.” Marlon replied as his wife gives her input, “I didn’t want to.” He grumpily waves her off and you lean next to Ellie, “Okay, there’s some truth in what you said.” She gives you a smirk in response.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?” Marlon asked while Joel clenches his jaw, and Ellie replies, “Yeah, got close enough. It’s crawling with Infected.” He hums in agreement, “Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be, you can’t go there no more.” Joel doesn’t give up and asks, “So you haven’t heard the name, ‘Tommy’?”

“Nope.” He simply says and Ellie questions, “What about the Fireflies?” Florence replies this time, “We get those in the summer.” The young girl frowns, “Not the bugs, the people.” Cluelessly the woman asks, “There are firefly people?” Her husband chuckles and Joel's frown grows deeper, creating harsh lines on his forehead, “You got any advice on the best way west?” The senior man doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah. Go east. But you never go past the river here.” He then points to a specific location on the map, the blue stream that flows across the paper, “Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked, brave and a little naive, the kind wise Florence replies, “Death. We never see who’s out there but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some infected, some not.” She turns to look at Joel, “If your brother is west of the river, he’s gone.” You lift your eyes to the man next to you, Joel has his eyebrows pinched, his gaze distant, and the lines by the side of his mouth are evident. Your heart sinks at the chance that the elderly couple might be right. “You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie softly says and the woman answers, “Scared him.” Her husband chuckles and Joel scrambles to get out of there, not saying a single word, he’s grabbing the map and packs up the rest of his things.

You and Ellie are quick to follow after him as she comments, “You don’t seriously believe them.” Joel’s footsteps are loud with every crunch of snow, “They’ve lived here a long time.” He turns and you do too to see Ellie grab a rabbit, “Put that back.” Ellie doesn’t listen and swings the dead rabbit behind her back, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the fireflies.” Joel unexpectedly stops walking, and you can hear his breathing become labored as he places his hand on the wooden fence, you angle your head to the right in confusion and concern.

Joel only hears muffled echoes as the ringing in his ears overpowers his senses, “Joel? Are you okay?” You softly ask and there is no response, you hear Ellie begin to worry as well and lines begin to form across your forehead. “Shut up.” His voice was barely audible as he places his hand on his chest. You jerk back, but you try to decode what was happening. Ellie then asks him, “Holy shit. Are you dying?” He shakes his head in response, “I’m okay.” But the world seems to spin around him, his vision feels blurry and the weightlessness he feels is unsettling, unable to process the news he had just heard and the possible chance his brother is no longer alive. The further he goes West, the more his paternal empathy is starting to merge Ellie and Sarah into one.

Yours and Ellie’s voices merge into one large echo as you both try and make sure he’s alright. “I’m fine.” You both don’t buy it, “No, no, but are you? Because just a reminder that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.” Ellie said, referring to both of you, which seemingly brings Joel grounded remembering he is now a caretaker and guardian to the both of you, he turns to you as he assures, “I said I’m fine. It’s just the… cold air all of a sudden.”

You don’t buy it one bit but you don’t want to diagnose him immediately so you keep silent and listen to Ellie speak as she marches on forward while ducking under the wooden fence, “All right, uh… let’s go and find Tommy and, and the Fireflies.” Joel grunts and looks at you and you avert your eyes from him, quickly following Ellie.

“It’s gonna be easy,” Ellie said, stumbling a little but marching on, “All we have to do is cross the River of Death.”

All the bruises seem to surface like mud beneath the snow, your feet dug into the snow, a small thin path of footprints lay behind me, telling me where you have come from, but not where you are going. The winds were cold, almost freezing your skin with a simple touch. The icy winds blew against your jacket, the fabric keeping you warm, enough to feel comfortable but not to keep your cold thoughts away. You knew about Jackson, but you weren’t entirely sure where exactly the town was. You silently hope Tommy was fine and nothing had changed.

You gazed around the land, nothing but unending snow and ice, almost a hint that this land had gotten incredibly secluded through the years. After the trees reached the sky, children laughed and played, and the sounds of birds chirping in the woods woke me up from my long rest. It was almost as if the world itself was a part of you, but now that everything has turned frigid and awful, you hardly recognize it.

You see a river stream to your left, Ellie stops to look at it and rolls her eyes as she sarcastically says, “The River of Death. Scary.” Joel sighs, “Don’t start. It’s too close to dark. There’s some caves along the river. We’ll set up camp there, cross in the mornin’.” Ellie smiles, “Good. I’m starving. Should’ve stolen two rabbits.” You ruffle her hair a little bit and Joel replies, “We can get our own rabbits.”

Ellie excitedly asks as she looks up at Joel, “You gonna teach me how? You taught Birdie.” You bite back a smile from the memory, his entire firm body was behind you, hands on either side of you, the ghost of his breath as he whispered instructions creating a trail of goosebumps. If you were being honest, you were very close to kissing him, but you were too afraid to mess it all up, to ask if he felt it too, and continued to wait for him to be ready. “Just keep movin’.” Joel dismisses her and the girl sighs in frustration and exhaustion. You look to Joel, your eyes gazing into his brown ones, hoping that if you stare long enough you could magically read his mind, then turned to trail after Ellie.

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – NIGHT

Your campfire appeared to echo the starlight and bounced off the walls of the small cave as if the flames so close and so distant had so very much to say to one another. It crackled and spat before hissing into life. Its lambent light stole away the velvet-black shadows dancing on the wall. As that dry, withered stump slowly releases years and years of energy soaked up from the sun, the air, and the ground around it, outcome bright lights, whispering hisses, sizzling pops, and a thick, intoxicating smell of musky smoke and pine needles.

You sit atop a large rock by the edge with Ellie, both of your heads are tilted up, black heavens are the perfect stage upon which the brightest of hues dance. You could watch the aurora lights for infinity and always see that it is new, a unique moment and beauty in all of existence. Rays of light fall from the sky, making drapes that stretch across the sky. And they are reminiscent of fluttering drapes or curtains in the wind. There is also a violet and a crimson trim at the bottom and top ends. Sometimes the hues are blended together and braided into one another. New beams of light streaming down from space cause the curtains to vanish and reappear.

Joel looks up to find you both whispering and giggling, you are pointing up at the sky and moving excitedly as you explained the glow from the stars and the infinite rays of light creating waves in the cold midnight sky. He watches Ellie lean her head on your shoulder and you gently rub her back, eventually giving her a light squeeze as a form of a side hug. He brings his fingers to his lips, and a shrill attention-grabbing pierces through the air, both of you swiftly turn your attention to Joel who says, “Come down from there. You’re both gonna break your necks.”

You and Ellie make your way down the high rock, and both of you walk to Joel who was sipping from his flask. Ellie curiously asks Joel, “Ahh… Can I have some?” He shakes his head at her, “No.” The fourteen-year-old whines, “What? Just to warm up. C’mon.” Joel looks at you, and you were surprised he wanted your input or permission. You simply nodded, letting him give the metal flask to Ellie which she receives with a bright smile, she raises it in thanks and takes a large sip. Her face twists into a sour expression, her eyes shut for a brief moment while her eyebrows meet in the middle, “Yep… still gross.” Ellie hands it back to Joel and he asks if you want some to which you respond with a shake of your head. She lets out a little cough and Joel quietly sips from his flask.

“So, I’ve been thinking. Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.” Ellie says and you watch Joel shift his eyes a bit, trying to figure out where this is heading, “Okay?” Ellie raises her eyebrows as she asks aloud, “Then what? Like, what do we do?” Joel raises his defenses, trying to keep the invisible bricks intact steady, “Oh, it’s ‘we’?” Unintentionally you sigh loudly in exasperation, looking at Joel with your eyelids heavy, you nervously lick the bottom of your lip and cling to your patience as it slowly slips through your fingers like sand. Ellie also sighs and reforms her question, “Okay, fine. Whatever. You. Her. You both can do anything you want. Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel clears his throat, “It’s never been an option. Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch.” Ellie encourages him to continue, “Cool. What kind?” He replies while he smugly looks at Ellie “Sheep. I would raise sheep. They’re quiet… do what they’re told.” Ellie rolls her eyes and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Okay. So, just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic.” You smile at the thought of him living a domesticated life, no more danger or violence, just simple and safe. Joel hesitates a little before asking Ellie, “And what about you? Where are you gonna go?”

She raises her head high, looking up at the full midnight moon glimmering bright along with the twinkling stars, “It’s probably cause I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean, and ahead of you, there’s a wall. Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?” You create creases beneath your eyes as you smile widely, having a pretty good guess as to who. You and Joel say the same thing at the same time, “Sally Ride.” Ellie grins, “Sally fuckin’ Ride! Best astronaut name ever. How about you Birdie?” You blink twice, “What?” She raises an eyebrow, “What are you gonna do when after I save the world? Are you gonna try to go back to your world or whatever?”

You've trusted and refused every compass you've followed, and the same is true of an ever-changing concept of right. You wrap your arms around your middle, and your shoulders rise and fall as you breathe, “Um… I actually haven’t thought about that. I don’t know.” She looks at you with confusion and questions “Don’t you want to go back home?” Her inquiry causes you to shrink into yourself a little more, not wanting to answer, craving to distance yourself from Joel and Ellie’s gaze. You swallow nervously and look down at your worn-out boots, “I… Maybe. It might take a long time before I could figure out something. But to be honest Ellie, I never felt… at home there. So many things that I had before, but they don't matter to me now.”

Then it becomes quiet for a bit, you watch Ellie blink a couple of times, the crackling bright glow of the orange fire illuminating on side of her face, as she begins to question the future before her, she couldn’t help but wonder, “It’ll work, right? The vaccine?” Joel looks down unsure, “It’s a little late to start wonderin’.”

“I tried, with Sam,” Ellie says as she doesn’t bring her eyes to either of you, your eyes soften at her admittance, none of you have talked about what had happened, not wanting to dwell on the past too much, but to hear her finally bring it up giving you a sense of pride, for her to have the courage to speak about something so traumatic. Joel continued the conversation by asking her what she meant, “Tried what?” She still couldn’t bring herself to look at either of you, choosing to gaze into the campfire, “I knew he was infected. I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know, I know, it was stupid. But I… I wanted to save him.” Joel softly says, the wind carrying his words into the night, “Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that. Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but… she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.” Ellie doesn’t say anything as she nods and he takes a large gulp from his flask, throwing his head back as he does.

The fire crackles loudly, but Ellie’s voice could be heard as she asked, “You wanna take first watch or second?” Joel grunts out, “I’ll do both. Get some sleep.” You opened your mouth to dispute him, saying that you could do the first watch but he doesn’t let you get a single syllable in as he narrows his eyes at you, “No.” You huff in annoyance and say nothing. You and Ellie get up to go deeper into the cave as Joel says to the both of you while grabbing his rifle, “Dream of… going home to sheep ranches on the moon.” Ellie gives him another nod, “I will.”

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – EARLY MORNING

The snow forest feels to the rest of the world like a gift waiting to be opened. Upon the ascent of the daylight, the wilderness is so bitter cold. It exudes a clean aura that invites the soul to pause for a minute and allow the sight to permeate the soul. You live in the moment, the past is always gone, and each day is something new, a stepping stone into a future you dream of even in the cold. The last of the morning stars were blinking out tragically above you. They glowed like bling-silver grains of sand in the early sky. It was a sight to see as their bejeweled splendor faded into nothingness. A ghostly, orb-white winter moon lingered there, eerily similar to a faint strobe light. A halo of brilliant golden encircled its waning brilliance. The sky around it was a vast sheet of grate-grey, with a plum-purple hue near the horizon.

You woke up a bit earlier than usual, and you found Joel passed out, laying on his side and using his jacket as a pillow. You could hear the birds squawking from above the trees, and see the campfire had dimmed. Quietly, you pushed yourself up and grabbed the rifle he had left beside him. You did the usual checks to ensure the safety of everyone, and to see if there were any tracks or unwanted animals lurking around. So far, luckily, you three were safe for the time being.

You made your way back to the cave, finding Ellie alert and awake. She looks at Joel and then back at you, and you raise your finger to your lips, indicating that she should let Joel rest and be quiet. The young girl nods in understanding, silently walking towards you, the both of you taking watch. You let Ellie practice what Joel had taught her and let her hold the rifle in the meantime. And she did everything perfectly.

As time passed and the sun began to rise from the east, you hear Joel mumble in his sleep. You tuned your ears to his whimpers and mumbling, catching the words, “Supposed to be me… Supposed to…” You frown in understanding and worry, you had your fair share of nightmares fueled by guilt. Joel startles awake, gasping for air as he pushes himself up frantically searching for his rifle, only to find you and Ellie standing guard. Ellie couldn’t help herself as she quips, “Still mumbling in your sleep. Birdie and I woke up early. You were passed out, so we both took second watch.”

Joel’s fury sprang to life as he stood up, “You gotta wake me up if that happens. Both of you can’t do things like this.” You felt a flash of irritation as you say to him, “But we can… ‘cause we just did.” He’s quiet for a moment, caught off guard by your reaction, then he speaks, “I’m responsible for both of you, okay?” Ellie is quick to throw back, “Then don’t fall asleep.” She began to recount detail and instruction Joel had given her before when he taught her while you proudly smirk at him, “What can I say, man? I’m a natural.” Joel grouchily nods, “Uh-huh.” And gestures to her to give him back the rifle, he nods at her in approval this time, “You wake me up next time.” Ellie rolls her eyes and smiles sarcastically, “Yes, sir. But you should know that Birdie woke up before me.”

Your eyes widen at her, “Ellie, don’t throw me under the bus!” She chuckles at you as Joel gives you a pointed look and you raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to try and argue, instead he just shakes his head, “Let’s get goin’.”

The cold air stung your cheeks and you pulled your scarf up closer to your face. As you looked around you took notice of the white blanket of snow covering the trees, ground, and mountains. The smell of damp pine trees made the air feel fresh and clean. The world around you was frozen in a glaring white quiet. Nothing made a sound, nothing moved, nothing sang. Winter's slavering teeth have vanished. Its piercing winds had stripped the trees of their final leaves, leaving them naked and brooding in a harsh world. They were groaning beneath the weight of the snow, encased in their medical coats. A great limb would occasionally groan, shatter, and collapse. It sounded like an explosion went off in the jungle. Apart from that, the woodland was engulfed in an eerie stillness. There was no morning chorus, sound symphony, or avian orchestra. The entire globe was encased in a dome of quiet. Winter's lethal grasp has strangled and suffocated all life on the planet. Snowflakes fluttered down on the three of you, sylph-like in their airy quiet. They glinted like crushed diamond dust as they landed. A shimmering winter scape of white and silver.

The sudden gunshot disrupted the peace of the forest, and the startled geese began to honk and fly off into the distance, Joel waits for a bit to ensure it was safe to cross the bridge, Ellie observes, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does, “The River of Death. Still no people.” Joel grumbles out, “Fine.” Then proceeds to stand up, and walk to the entrance of the bridge as you and Ellie closely follow him from behind.

As you continue to make your way across the bridge, Ellie tries to whistle like Joel, however, no high pitch sound comes out, just puffs of air. Joel turns around in confusion, and Ellie’s reply is muffled by her fingers, “I’m learning how to whistle.” And Joel looks at her incredulously, “You don’t know how to whistle?” She retorts, “Does it sound like I know how to whistle?” He says the obvious, “No.” You laugh, letting yourself enjoy the little moments of peace with the two. “Seriously, though, how the fuck do you do that?” Ellie asks walking a little bit ahead and you walking side-by-side with Joel, he harrumphs, “Talent.” And you lightly smack his arm at his response, and you swore you saw him give you a small smile, Ellie mutters, “Whatever. You should teach me how to hunt.”

“Huh.” Joel states, and Ellie mocks him, “‘Huh’. Like. ‘She’s a girl. She can’t handle it.’” Joel speaks as he trudges through the snow, “You can handle the shootin’. Not so sure about the dressin’.” Ellie sighs, “What’s the dressin’?” You and Joel walk a little bit past her and he replies, “The part where you take the guts out.” And your nose scrunches up at the thought while Ellie says, “Oh, yeah. Why do they call it dressing? It’s like you should call it undressing ‘cause it is. It’s like… undressing from the inside.” She paused for a bit to catch her breath before saying, “Still interested, though.”

The sound of water rushing fills your ears as you waddled through the snow, stumbling upon a large structure. Dams were mechanical temples that harnessed the victorious powers of water, power, and terrestrial fertility for human advantage. “Dam.” Ellie said, and you rolled your eyes in amusement while Joel tells her, “You’re no Will Livingston.” She quickly throws back at him, “Yeah, yeah, but who is? So that made electricity?” Referencing the Dam in front of them, Joel mutters, “Yeah. Don’t ask me. I don’t have a clue.” Ellie laughs, “You know, you could’ve just made something up. I would’ve believed you.” Joel answers, “Ask Birdie, she’s practically a walking encyclopedia.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or amazed at the fact you know what an encyclopedia is.” You quip at him with a smirk and his lip quirks up in a small smirk at you, and his eyes twinkle with mischief and desire as his pupils slightly darken, “Smartass.” You winked at him, “You like it.”

“Damn right.” He said with his eyes unwavering from yours, and you felt every atom in your body spark to life. Joel’s heavy breathing stirred the tiny hairs on your neck, sending a shiver into every cell of your body. Ellie disrupted you both as she makes a disgusted groan, “If the two of you are done flirting can we please keep moving?” The heat of embarrassment rushed into your face, leaving you speechless as you decide to break away from his stare and keep marching forward.

“Look at that river. It’s crazy blue.” Ellie said then was immediately quiet after, somewhere between then and now irony slipped its way into her vocabulary, laughter became an anecdote for guilt, sacrifice grew to be a band name for shame and unnecessary death became a nightmare that rode her piggyback. At this point, the thought suddenly struck her, “Hey, Joel, Birdie… what if this is the River of Death?”

Joel grabs the map from his jacket pocket and unfolds it, checking to see if Ellie was right. The cold wind harshly bit into your skin as you three stared at the crystal blue river. At first, you couldn’t see them, but you could hear them—the snapping of twigs, the crunch of snow, and the clopping sound of horse hoofs. There were more than one, more than three, and they were closing in. Joel tried to grab you and Ellie to run, but they were too quick, and organized, and had you surrounded in seconds with their guns and rifles pointed at you. “Get behind me,” Joel said, slightly pushing both of you behind his tall frame. You all raised your hands up, and showed no sign of aggression, Joel shouts, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble. We’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the gun,” the harsh voice ordered in front of you, Joel does as he’s told and so do you. “Both of you… take five steps back.” the man says, and Joel tries to reason with him, “How ‘bout we just talk this through?” And the unknown man unrelentingly replies, “How ‘bout you shut the fuck up?” Joel's shoulders tense, “Okay, easy.” He turns to both of you, Ellie has her eyes wide open and mouth slightly parted, her hands slightly quivering and you trying to steady your breathing, “You’ll both be okay.”

You follow the orders given to you and take five steps back and you hear the man ask, “You been near Infected?” And Joel replies, “There’s no Infected out here.” He doesn’t buy it one bit and retorts, “The hell there ain’t.” He whistles and you hear a short, abrupt vocalization, relatively loud and high-pitched, changes in frequency, the bark of an excited dog, “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

The black large dog continues to bark and its handler removes his leash, he prances over to Joel, sniffing him up and down, jumps up to place his paws on his stomach, looks at him then whines, not finding any indication of the virus. The dog walks back over to his handler for a treat while Joel’s Texan accent becomes heavy, “Like I said… we’ll just move on.” The man still has his rifle pointed at you as he sits atop his horse, he nods over in your and Ellie’s direction, “Now both of them.”

Your heart drops, and you hear Ellie’s breathing become shaky. The flip in your stomach takes over all of your senses, you are frozen and unmoving as you watch the dog crouch lowly and growl at you and Ellie. Joel turns back to glance at you both and you’re worriedly looking at him. He turns around, not bringing himself to watch, the world becomes quiet, the silent ringing returns, and his lungs are clawing for air. It brings him back to that moment when the world took her away, his Sarah, the powerlessness and helplessness feeling that had followed him over the past twenty years. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders that faithful day.

The sound of a high-pitched bark brings him back to the present, he hears you and Ellie giggle and turns to find you and her completely fine, happily rubbing and petting the dog as the creature licks and wags its tail. The man whistles and the dog is called away, you and Ellie stand up from the snow and hear the leader say, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?” Joel quickly replies, “I’m just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.” A beautiful woman, whose skin was as rich and deep as any stately home mahogany, exclaims, “Ho!” And walks her horse forward, “What’s your name?” He answers breathlessly, “Joel.” And his name became the key, the password, and the answer, for them to escort you into their town.

You three were given and allowed to ride your own horses, the cold wind rushing past me. The sun’s rays of light are covered by the darkness of the clouds. Hooves, galloping along the plush white snow, the loud clopping and crunch fill your ears as you hold onto the reins. In the distance, you see a large wooden wall with a giant gate, men and women stationed on top, ready to shoot any intruders. One of the men raises a red bandana, a signal to one of the guards on watch.

The large gate opens for all of you, the horses begin to trot at a normal pace as you take in the sight of Jackson. Underneath you are fluffy, cold snow. The sounds of slush fill your ears. You watch as the misty fog escapes your mouth anytime you take a breath. Every time you inhale a frigid prickle enters your lungs and every time you exhale the heat from your breath warms your lips. Around you are naked trees covered in powder-white snow, glistening in the daylight. The town is neatly arranged, and it felt comfortable and safe. You spot the Tipsy Bison on the right, a location you recognized, then bring your eyes to observe the people around you. A thriving and collaborative community, stable enough to provide and care for the elderly and children.

You continue on forward, spotting Tommy on top of the scaffolding, helping with construction work. You angle your head to look at Joel as he shouts at the top of his lungs, “Tommy!” His brother stops what he’s doing to look at Joel, then he proceeds to run down the steps leading up to the scaffolding, Joel urgently dismounts from his horse, and the people around town watch as the two brothers reunite, a large impactful hug from the both of them, secure and firm. Their shoulders move up and down as the two laugh loudly, finally, all of the pieces align and the balance is clearly defined, he sighs and settles down for the first time.

Tommy smiles as he asks his older brother, “What the fuck are you doin’ here?” Joel looks at you and Ellie for a second before back to Tommy, replying, “I came here to save you.” Joel begins to laugh again, his chuckle a melody you’ve rarely heard before, a sound you keep in your back pocket just in case.

You bring your gaze to Ellie, whose expression is mixed and jealous, sensing that she’s now a bit less important in Joel’s life. You look back at the two brothers, turning down the volume of your heart, the massive table of countless dominos, all lined up and weaving in and out of each other, every relationship and decision in every piece of domino, subconsciously shrinking the row of dominos the best you can. Eliminating your opinions or wants and desires, convincing yourself that this will be simple by just focusing on the needs of everyone else but yourself. The only form of control you’ve had looks like empathy to understand all sides.

MESS HALL, JACKSON COUNTY, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The mess hall was large, warm, and inviting. The indistinct chatter fills the giant wooden cabin, lightbulbs twinkling from above, and dining tables lined up neatly. Ellie was sat in between you and Joel, she is scarfing down her food, eagerly eating everything that was on her plate and so was Joel. You were meekly eating, trying to not draw attention to yourself, as you quietly chewed on your potatoes. “There’s more if you need it.” And you soon come to realize that this must be Maria, the way Tommy’s body language is drawn and pulled close to her, you smile when you hear Joel reply politely, “Thank you, ma’am.” And you also offer your thanks to her and she nods in your direction in acknowledgment. Joel cuts into his food as he says, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.” Ellie pipes in, “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal. This is fuckin’ amazing.” You wince in second-hand embarrassment and so does Joel, he turns to Maria, “Sorry. Ellie… let’s mind our manners.” Tommy smirks knowingly. At one moment, another girl furtively looks at Ellie, until Ellie loudly says “What?!” and scares her off. Joel’s lips turn down and his eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What’s wrong with you?” Ellie doesn’t relent, “What about her manners?”

“She was just curious. Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.” Maria points out and Ellie nods, “Right… well, maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.” Maria shakes her head, “They also aren’t armed.” The young brave girl glares at her in response, Tommy decides to step in, “You know what? Uh… I think maybe ya’ll got a little off on the wrong foot.” Ellie raises her tone and points out, “She was gonna have our guys kill us.” Joel gives her a pointed look, an indication for her to stop being disrespectful but Tommy calmly responds, “Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place. But it’s all bark. We’re just trying to scare off those who might wanna try us is all.” Ellie nonchalantly says, “Well you got a couple of ninety-year-olds who shitting themselves out there.” You and Joel chastise her quickly, “Ellie.” But she doesn’t care, “They say that you leave dead bodies around?” Maria doesn’t deny the ugly truth, “Those are the people who tried us.” Tommy adds, “A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad.” Maria narrows her eyes at Joel as she comments, “Not always, at least.” You feel your anger flare up from your chest as you grip your knife tighter, glaring at Maria for suggesting such a thing.

Joel swallows down his food and his shame, “Ma’am… we’re grateful for your hospitality and all. But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.” You place an elbow on the table, using your hand to hide your face in embarrassment as you squirm in your chair, you hear Tommy clear his throat, “Well um…” You peek past your hand and watch him grab Maria’s hand, spotting the wedding band on his left ring finger, “Maria is family, actually.” Ellie blinks in surprise as she says, “Oh, shit! Congrats.” You bring your eyes to Joel’s unmoving figure, frozen in shock from the sudden news as his breathing becomes unsteady, Ellie softly whispers to him, “Joel, say congrats.” The all-too-familiar cold tone is unmistakable as he grits his teeth to say, “Congrats.” There’s an awkward silence between the two parties, and you take a large gulp of your water and Tommy offers, “How ‘bout a tour.” You nod as you’re the first one to get up from your chair, not liking the possibility of conflict between the two brothers, “Yes, please.”

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The town had a large plaza, and a giant vibrant Christmas tree in the center, Maria spoke as she walked, and the rest of you followed, “We settled here about seven years ago. Just a handful of us back then.” She points out a section of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.” Joel warily looks around, “And you said Infected?” Tommy nods, “Yeah, but usually in smaller colonies, wandered off from the cities. All this open country out there… it’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from half a mile out.”

“Can you teach me how?” Ellie asks and Joel is quick to respond for him, “No, he can’t. How do you keep this place quiet?” Maria replies, “Carefully. Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.” Joel stares at his brother and Tommy shrinks away from his pointed look, you listen to Maria as she explains the purpose of each building, “House of worship, multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as a jail, not that we’ve needed it.” Joel looks to one of the electric poles, “And you draw power from the dam?” Maria confirms his suspicion, nodding, “Got that workin’ a couple years ago. After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters… lights.” Ellie shakes her head, seemingly impressed, “This place actually fuckin’ works.”

The group makes their way to the farm, and a herd of sheep passes by, and Ellie points it out as she smiles at him, “Hey, Joel, check it. Baa.” Ellie playfully swings her arms back and forth as she asks Maria, “Are you, like, in charge?” She looks at Tommy for a bit before replying, “No one person’s in charge. I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving three hundred people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.” Tommy picks off where she left off, “Everything you see in our town… greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership,” to which Joel replies, "So, uh, communism." Tommy's knee-jerk reaction is, "Nah. Nah, it ain't like that." His discomfort with the term pulls from over a century of distortion of the fundamental principles of communism. “It is that, literally. This is a commune. We're communists," Maria states modestly, to which Tommy’s discomfort at the thought causes him to stagger a bit, to which you offer, “I can try and explain it later.” Tommy nods in thanks and you give him a reassuring smile.

“No way!” Ellie exclaims as she makes her way to the stables, Maria trails behind her and you follow the two ladies, “That’s our newest one. Couple months old. You wanna pet her?” Ellie’s smile is as bright as the sun and her teeth as white as the snow beneath you, wide and happy, “Yeah, what’s her name?” Ellie asks to which Maria replies, “Shimmer.” Your smile falters a bit, recognizing the name from the second game, but you shake it off, not wanting to keep looking into the future. “Shimmer you’re so beautiful,” Ellie says as she pets the pony gently, completely enamored by her beauty and gentle grace. Maria turns to Tommy and discusses the possible sleeping arrangement, “Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes. We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.” Her husband nods in agreement, “Yeah. It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since the ‘03, but it’s got the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.” Ellie carelessly remarks, “Oh, trust me, we have been.”

Joel has his eyes narrowed and annoyed, “We’ve been doin’ fine.” You get the slight feeling he’s being defensive, and Maria looks at you and Ellie, and tells her husband, “Well I’ll take her and Ellie over there if you two wanna catch up.” Tommy then looks to his older brother for approval and Joel nods, “Yeah. Okay.” You and Ellie whip your head to face Joel, slightly unnerved and fearful of the unknown, and potentially Joel pushing you both away. “Joel.” Ellie says and he brushes her off as he walks away, “You’ll be fine.” Maria asks the both of you, “Shall we?” And having no choice but to follow her you both nod, “Uh, yeah.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The warm hot shower soothes your skin as you wash off the grime and dirt of the last few months. At some point, you had decided to sit down in the bathtub of the shower, letting the water hit your skin freely, your eyes distant and gaze unsteady as you watch the steam of the shower move to the light. You hug your knees close to your chest, rest your chin on your knees, and finally let yourself go.

The haze takes over your vision, a sculpture of water and unsettled dust, and your exhausted mind only wants to be carried home. So you fight with the concept of grace while attempting to hold everything in place. You were so full of life that you could barely hold it in. You were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering. Your questions ricochet like broken satellites. How did your bodies, born to heal, become so prone to die? Your nights have grown so long and now you beg for sound advice, time has been ruthless and unkind, every turn in the corner of the maze only to be faced with a dead end, the trapdoors you couldn’t see, and the lives that were lost to your journey to Jackson. You felt so vulnerable and fragile, the fact that the foundation of society was shaken to its core due to the pandemic, governments, families, and lives as you know them, will never be the same again. As life replayed, you hear the voice in the back of your mind proclaim, to let the brokenness be felt until you reach the other side.

The sting in your eyes as the tears escape from your eyes, allows for the cold embrace of the depression you’ve kept hidden and at bay for so long. Sometimes you pretend you are evergreen and keep your cards close to your chest. But this time you allow yourself the reprieve, as you quietly sob into your hands and gasp for air now and then, letting every little fracture of you shatter out loud. Wondering if your messes mattered and if all the chaos counted as you felt empty-handed. You had set sail along the universe's ocean of the unknown with cheap wood and tried to patch up every leak that you could until the blame grew too heavy.

You reflected on the world that you were unintentionally placed in, presenting the world through a different lens, a world that turned hostile and dangerous. But a story that explored how nevertheless you can still find love and meaning, the longing for human connections, and how willing you are to sacrifice everything to safeguard the people you love.

You hadn’t planned on it, the greater weight of the truth settling inside of you. Fundamental resilience and a built-in resistance, and against your judgment, prevent you from completely surrendering yourself from truly giving up on being human. You open your eyes and slowly rise to your feet, placing your palm on the wall, you blink and try to look past the undefined and fragile promise at the light at the end of the tunnel. You nod, shakily you breathe, and whisper to no one in particular, “I guess that’s how it goes.”

After the mental breakdown in the shower, you stepped out of the bathroom fresh and felt a little bit lighter. You lift your chin a little higher and open your eyes a little wider despite the puffiness in your eyes. You are wrapped in a towel, and as you make your way to the foot of the bed, you find fresh clean clothes to wear and a menstrual cup. You smile at the thoughtful gift and find a note, that reads ‘I’m just across the street. Come by when you’re done.’

You get dressed and make your way down the hall to Ellie’s room, you knock on her door and call for her, “Ellie? You there?” When no reply came, you slowly opened the door to find her gone and after investigating a little bit, you see a similar note from Maria. You figured she had already gone over. You leave her room and walk across the street to Maria’s house, knocking on the door and Ellie opening the door for you. You smile at her as you walk inside, appreciating the warmth already provided by the fireplace.

You take a good look at the living room, yellow curtains by the window, a messy coffee table with an unsolved crossword, and a large cozy couch facing the fireplace as it crackles and roars. Your eyes catch the small blackboard sitting on top of the fireplace with two candles on each side. Ellie walks over to it and you follow closely behind her as she stares up at the two names. Kevin and Sarah, with the dates, that they were born and taken away too soon from this world.

You let out an uneven exhale and feel your frown deepen, as the flashbacks of Joel’s life come back to you in a blur. The scream for mercy, watching him tear apart with each cry and wail from his hoarse voice. The day the world ended was the same day his world ended. Something broken that cannot be fixed. You both turn your heads to the sound of the back door opening, Maria enters bringing the cold wind with her until she closes the door behind her, “Oh, good. Just traded for these two. Go ahead, try it on.” She hands Ellie a deep purple long coat while yours is A sophisticated medium gray with the barest hint of violet. The young girl comments as she wears her purple puffer coat, “It’s, uh, super fuckin’ purple.” You bend down a little to help Ellie with her coat, fixing the collar and the lining, Maria nods, “Eggplant. It fits?” Ellie replies, “Yeah.” Maria continues to fuss over her as you put on your coat, “Shoes aren’t too big?” She answers, “Uh, no. Where’s our other stuff?” Maria lifts her shoulders, “Rag pile. Did you both get the thing I left you?” You merely nod while Ellie bluntly replies, “Yeah. Weirdest gift ever.” Maria nods in agreement but says, “But useful. Who’s been cutting your hair?”

“Uh, world-class salons,” Ellie says plainly and it earns a laugh from you and Maria, “Let me get my scissors.” Ellie’s mouth opens to protest but Maria doesn’t let her argue, “Trim. That’s all. Just the ends, I promise. And her too, she’ll go first so you can see that you have nothing to worry about.” Referring to you as she walks to the kitchen. You ruffle Ellie’s hair and whisper to her, “Just let her,” to which she sighs and takes a seat on one of the dining table chairs.

The trim was much needed. Maria had cut your hair in the style you wanted with such precision and skill. You happily thanked her with a polite smile, sat down on one of the other chairs, and let Ellie go next, of course, Ellie being the curious kid she is, begins to interrogate Maria, “So, this was, like, your job back then or something?” The sharp snips of scissors fill the silence for a bit before she answers, “No, I was an Assitant District Attorney out of Omaha, Nebraska. I put the bad guys in jail. I always liked doing hair though. Maybe it was a mom thing.”

“Damn, that’s pretty impressive.” You said and she gives you her thanks and asks, “What did you do for work?” Your smile falters, “Um, I used to be a researcher, a Quantum physicist.” The quiet was nice for a moment before she comments, “You both were looking at the little memorial Tommy made?” Ellie answers for the both of you, “Uh, yeah.” She stumbles on her words, “I’m- I’m sorry about your kids.” Your nails dig into your palm and listen to Maria reply, “It’s okay. And kid. Just Kevin. Sarah was Joel’s daughter.”The heavy silence that follows tells Maria that Ellie didn’t know that before, and you find it harder to breathe, “Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay. I guess that explains him a little,” Ellie says and she brings her eyes to you, “Did you know?” You squirm, the feeling of deja vu from when you first heard those words from Joel, the accusatory glance, and the betrayal in her eyes. “Yes,” You said and she scoffs at you, “Why? Why didn’t you say anything?” You pull back and raise your eyebrows at her, “You and I both know that was never my story to tell or share. No amount of knowledge will ever excuse the fact that I can never talk about what happened without Joel’s explicit consent.” Ellie resigns from her lashing out and nods at you with understanding, and you simply sighed. Maria chimes in, “Look, I’m not gonna ask you what you both are doing with him.”

“Good.” You and Ellie say at the same time, quickly protective of Joel but Maria continues with her statement, “But there are clearly things you both don’t know about Joel.” You glare at Maria while the teen remains typically testy, “Oh, like how he used to kill people? We know about that.” Ellie rebukes with vigor and impresses Maria with it somewhat, “So then you understand my concern.” Ellie’s anger flares, “He doesn’t do that anymore.” And Maria is quick to question, “He stopped killing people?”

“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?” she asks to which Maria’s lips form a thin line, “Tommy was following Joel. The way you both are.” Seemingly sees Joel as a bad influence, someone who pulls people into his orbit and leaves harm in his wake. “Well, maybe, we’re smarter than Tommy. No offense.” Ellie states and you sense distrust in Maria, “You are definitely smart. Both of you. You would have made a hell of a lawyer, Ellie.” The woman says as she puts away her scissors and stands in front of you and Ellie, “There’s a whole lot you’re not telling me.” None of you answer, to which Maria nods, “Good. Therein lies the point. Be careful who you put your faith in,” she warns you and Ellie. “The only people who can betray us… are the ones we trust.” Ellie clearly resents the advice and Maria’s distrust of Joel, perhaps because she senses there’s a good reason for it and none of you want to admit it.

“You understand?” Maria asks and you both hum in acknowledgment. “Now come on.” She says as she walks to remove the towel around Ellie’s shoulders, “Grab your super fuckin’ eggplant coat.” You allow yourself to laugh at the callback and get up from your own seat, shuffling to put on your gray coat to which you hear Ellie ask, “Where are we going?” Maria smiles, “The movies.” Ellie sighs and ties her hair back, while you say, “I’m actually gonna go for a walk. Get familiar with the surroundings. You okay to go by yourself, Ellie?” The brave teen nods, “Mhm. I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Tell me what you think of the movies later, okay?” You say and she smiles and agrees, “Okay.” You tuck your hands in the pockets of your coat, yelling a thank you and goodbye to Maria as you headed outside to the cold winter of Jackson.

MAIN STREET

JACKSON, WYOMING – SUNSET

You tried your best to help around as much as you could with the stables and the children, doing some work to pass the time. The clouds collected again around sunset, bringing an earlier night, and the snow began to fall straight and slowly from a sky devoid of wind, in a gentle universal dispersion more perplexing than the morning's blasts. It appeared to be a part of the growing darkness, the cold night itself falling on you layer by layer.

The amber glow of the string lights, the burn barrels doing their best to keep parts of the area warm, the steam following the wind but the bright glow of the fire emitting from inside shine through. Most people at this hour have already decided to go to the dining hall to watch the rest of the movie, but you continued to wander around the empty main street of Jackson.

The world is an outline of shapes you used to know, hidden in plain sight. The drapes suddenly pulled back slowly, as though pulling a ribbon. You've been distracted, but you're no longer trapped in the static. Despite the fact that your hands are prone to trial and error, you cross your fingers for anything to hold. Here in the shadows of letting go, you can't help but wish for a brighter future. You spot Ellie from a distance, her figure crouched down as she eavesdrops through the door of a nearby workshop. You tilt your head and quietly walk towards her, to which she still turns her head to you, lifting her finger on her lips indicating to be quiet. You decide to follow her request and crouch next to her, hearing Tommy and Joel quietly conversing with each other.

Joel started, “It was Marlene. She hired us to smuggle her to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kid. It was her dyin’ wish. What the hell was I supposed to do? We made it as far as K.C., and then… You know she saved my life there… from another kid. Birdie got hurt too… Five years ago, I would’ve destroyed him. But she had to shoot him to save me. Fourteen years old. Because I was too slow and too fuckin’ deaf to hear him comin’.” You shudder at the reminder and the two of you listened as Joel broke, bit by bit, his voice started to quiver, “And Birdie had to protect Ellie 'cause I asked her to… and she didn’t even have the experience or skill that I had… I saw… I saw a man kill his own brother… to save her, while I just watched. And today I thought that dog was gonna tear both of ‘em apart because it smelled somethin’ on them.”

“And all I did was stand there. I couldn’t… move. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just… I was so afraid.” Joel’s breathing was ragged as he spoke, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios, “You think I can handle things, but… I’m not who I was. I’m weak.” He believes he bears little resemblance to the man he once was or could become. No action hero, he admits to being far less capable of recognizing and reacting to threats than he used to be, and to sometimes being paralyzed by fear. You slowly start to feel your eyes sting again as you hear the tremble in his voice, the brokenness you’re all too familiar with, “Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and… my heart… feels like it’s stopped. And I have dreams. Every night.”

“What kinda dreams?” Tommy asks, and you listen to the triggered tripwire every time he breathes, the tremble in his voice gives you that he was beginning to cry, “I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just know that when I wake up… I’ve lost somethin’.” You allow your own tears to fall, covering your mouth to cover your whimpers as you listen to him admit, “I’m failin’ in my sleep. That’s all I do. It’s all I’ve ever done is fail them again and again.” Tommy states, “You want me to take them.” And Joel continues to cry as he says, “I’m just gonna get them killed. I know it. I have to leave them.” Tommy tries to call his name to calm him, “Joel.”

“I mean, it’s why you took off on me, right? To make up for the things we did?” Joel asks with a clear glaze in his eyes, he begs his younger brother, “Well, here’s your chance to bring your kid into a better world. You’re younger than me. You’re still strong. You said it yourself, you’ll come back. You have to take her. You have to give Birdie… that sweet, smark, and kind girl, a chance to live a life here. A normal life here. Please.”

You take Tommy’s silence as agreement and the tears fall from your cheeks as you try to muffle your cries. Joel breathes, “And you can’t tell anyone, not even Maria. Tommy, you’re the only one I trust. If anyone else sees those bites on her, on them both, what’s under their skin… they’ll shoot them. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. I swear.”

“I’ll take her out at dawn.” You hear Tommy say and Joel sigh of relief. You feel Ellie tug your coat sleeve, indicating you need to leave before they realized you had heard the entire conversation.

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – NIGHT

None of you spoke as the two of you walk into the night, heading back to the temporary house that they had provided. You opened the door for Ellie and she ran straight up to her room, while you walked up the steps to the master bedroom. You quietly shut your door sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, you sniffed and try to will yourself to stop crying. You stared blankly at the floor as you swung your feet, patiently waiting and deciding what to do next.

The options you had were limited to figuring out how to get back to your previous observable universe or facing the truth about how you felt for Joel and your fondness for Ellie as if she were your own daughter. This meant admitting that you also needed to discuss what you wanted with Joel. To wake up and wage war with this gravity that has been holding you back for almost all of your life, the epiphany of finding so much worth fighting for, and either way all the lines of dominos will fall and cascade.

You were too in your head to hear the shouting from across the hall, the argument between Joel and Ellie, a crucial turning point in the central relationship. You hear the bits and pieces of their yelling and arguing, “You have no idea what loss is,” is a pretty awful thing for him to say. And in both, she tells him that everyone she’s ever cared about has either died or left her, “Everyone—fucking except for you. So don’t tell me that I would be safer with someone else because the truth is that I would just be more scared.” Joel’s painful response, “You’re right, you’re not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” You flinch at that, “Now, come dawn… we’re goin’ our separate ways.” Then you hear the loud slamming of the door of Ellie’s room, and your own frown deepens, you feel your heart race, as if you feel the climb of the track of the rollercoaster, building you up and then taking you back. It’s a while before Joel decides to go to the bedroom, he had decided to sit in the living room to remember Sarah one last time before letting her go.

You anticipate Joel’s footsteps, the thud of each step, and hear your door open. Joel finds you sitting at the edge of the bed, hunched over, your hands shaking in your lap as you try and hold yourself together. The quiet dim glow of the yellow lamp by the bedside table illuminates your features. You don’t look at him as he calls your name, you choose to look at the floor, he tries again, softer, “Birdie…” You only blink in response, the only indication that you heard him at all, you hear him step a little closer to you, “How much did you hear?” In a barely audible response, you shakily whisper, “All of it.”

Joel began, “Birdie… it’s for the best if we–” You cut him off before he could even finish, sharply turning your head at him as you stood up, “Joel I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.” He feels breathless as he registers what you said, “What?” You blink back the tears and try to look him in the eye, a little more alive as you let the scale tip and feel all of it rushing through you like a restless river stream, you feel your chest expand as you breathe and say, “If you don’t want me… if you don’t feel anything for me. Just say it and tell me now and I’ll figure out how to get back home on my own. ‘Cause I can’t keep going like this… dancing around you and pretending I don’t have feelings for you.”

You shake your head, “I’ve spent my whole life asking and searching for the impossible and none of it made any sense to me… And then I… I found you and Ellie. For the first time, I felt whole.” Your hand clenches near your chest as you utter, “Was I just delusional or imagining things? ‘Cause all of this… push and pull is hurting me. Do you even want me?” Joel steps a little closer as he says, “Yes.” And you look up at him and take one step back, “Then… why? And don’t you fucking dare make it an age-gap excuse or I will kick you in the balls Miller.”

He stumbles over his words, “I’m afraid. I’m so, so, afraid Birdie. That I could fail to protect you, Sweet Girl. The light that you give, the kindness you’ve shown, I’m scared I might taint it. Take away something so good in this world. You deserve so much more than what I could give.” Your face pinches in frustration and tears fall down your face, your cheeks warm and eyes puffy from all the sobbing, “Don’t I get a say?” And he’s quick to tell you, “Of course you do.” You scoff and angrily wipe your eyes. You pause and take a good look at the man in front of you, it's a fire and a goddamn blaze in the dark and he started it, you say from across the room, “Then let me choose you, Joel. Please, please, don’t leave me here.” He’s quiet as he takes in your words, and you continue, it’s uncomfortable but right, you say, “I don’t care about what was written about in your history. In the end, I want more than the life that I choose, and I want it to be with you.”

The silence that fills the room is one of heaviness and anticipation. The churning fear that pours out of you, and the inheritance you did not seek or ask for. You watch as Joel breathes heavily at your confession, taking his time to process what you said and felt for him. Someone who he deemed no longer worthy of receiving love. Slowly, you show him who he is and who he could be, and try to initiate the heart, bringing himself to let it open up properly. All of a sudden, you changed his mind and pulled back the curtains a little at a time.

You were on a frequency, the perfect opposite of him. Though he never needed any proof to trust the heart that beats inside of you. He can't keep his head from spinning out of control, but he will try to breathe ‘til it becomes muscle memory. He’s only steady on his knees, but maybe with you, he’ll one day stand on his own two feet. To struggle gracefully and let the scaffolding inside of him be strong enough to hold his tired body up once more.

He licks his bottom lip out of nervousness, and directly looks you in the eye, “I want you, Birdie.” You feel the rush of heat through your body, and stutter, “W-What?” His gaze darkens as he looks at you with need and desire, seemingly made up his mind to just give in, to let himself want and need you. “I said, I want you Birdie. Will you be mine?” He takes a step closer to you and you stay frozen, eventually, he’s towering over your frame, his eyes so dark you can no longer see the honey-brown eyes you were familiar with. You can’t help it. You’re drawn in by the force and pressure of the tempest building in those damnable eyes. Your heart is loud as a drumline, the thumping noise and heat in your ears as you feel the magnetic pull into his warmth, you feel his breath against your lips as you whisper, “Yes.”

That’s all it took, and with slow deliberation looks at you up and down. His inspection seems to last for hours, though it must take only seconds. The air between you crackles, and you want to move toward him, to close the gap between you. But you stay rooted to the spot, waiting for him. He lingers for a moment on your lips before finally lifting his head to meet your eyes, and his lips meet yours. You didn’t grow up, we grew in, like ivy wrapping, molding each other into perfect yins and yangs. You kissed with mouths open, breathing his exhale into your inhale. You could have survived underwater or outer space, breathing only the breath you traded.

You felt his warm rough large hands bring one hand to your waist and the other to cup the side of your cheek as he kissed you. You felt the tickle of his facial hair on your cheek, and each breath and groan vibrated throughout your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers rhythmically through his salt-and-pepper hair. Happily sighing breathlessly as he continues to kiss you dizzy. Like a whiskey, you can feel it he hits so strong but tastes so sweet.

The rush and thrill consumed you, the slick wetness between your thighs and his hands moving to cup and grab at your ass causing you to gasp in pleasure, to which Joel decides to pull your bodies closer ‘til no space lies in between. His presence was too powerful, his scent too all-consuming. It crowded your lungs, filling them with clean earthiness and rich spices. When you were around him, it was easy to lose myself, no matter how upset you were.

When he carefully dropped himself to the ground, the movement was both proud and obedient. His breath brushed over your skin. “Do you want this?” His fingers ran down the back of your leg, leaving a path of heat in their wake. Your thoughts were jumbled, but you had enough sense to realize this wasn't about sex. It was all about being vulnerable. It was a landmark event disguised as insignificant and distilled into one phrase. “Yes.” That was both demand and submission, a groan and a gasp. Joel exhaled. He carried you to the plush bed in the center of the room, appreciating everything you could give him. Clothes were quickly removed, and he stripped you down to your barest form while he kept his boxers on, an evident hard-on showing but choosing to take care of you first.

His palms burned as they parted your thighs. He’d barely touched you, and you were already on fire. You tipped your head back, drowning in arousal, heat, and lust and the reverence of his touch as he kissed his way up your thigh. His stubble rasped against your skin and sent tiny shocks of pleasure down your spine. As he separated your thighs, his palms seared. He hadn't even touched you yet, but you were still immediately burning. As he nibbled his way up your thigh, you threw your head back, reveling in pleasure, heat, lust, and the devotion of his touch.

“I'm sorry I offended you…” A gentle kiss at the fine line where your thigh meets your leg and persistent heat. “For attempting to drive you away…” Your underwear was removed and tossed to the side as he softly stroked your clit with his tongue. When he dragged your clit into his lips and sucked, his abrasive words mingled with your scream. Your body arched away from the bed. He began to worship you with his lips, hands, and tongue as your hands dug into his hair and you could barely hang on. Joel was rigid but beckoning. Delicate but sinful. You felt a new rush of pure sensation with every movement. Your chest and the base of your spine are both under pressure at the same time. You were soaring high solely on passion and desire, out of breath. He backed away and lightly touched your delicate clit with his teeth. He inserted two fingers into you and plunged and curled them as you wilted carelessly.

Your body was familiar to him. Knew precisely what you wanted, how to operate it like a well-tuned guitar, and even what buttons to press and where to press them. He stroked your G-spot while simultaneously pressing his thumb into your clit. When Joel stood up, his chest heaving, the strain was dizzying as your orgasms ripped through you and your moans were still echoing in the air. He gently kissed your lips as he leaned forward on top of you, bracing his hands on each side of your head.

When you kissed him and cherished the flavor of the kiss, leisurely threads of need twisted inside you. Like desperation flavored with desire and soothed with compassion, robust and rich. You explored and licked the inside of his mouth as you panted. He moaned in hunger and want, “Birdie…” Your hands roamed, your hearts pounding in sync and your kisses growing in intensity until the heat became too much to bear.

He took off his boxers and you flipped both of you over with the help of gravity, and you gradually sank into him, taking him in, inch by inch until he was buried deep inside of you. Hitting deeper, and tasting sweeter. You rocked against Joel as his hands held onto your hips. A delightful pressure swelled inside of you, rising higher and higher until your head was distorted with lust. Sweat misted your skin. Moans filled the air. He was certainly straining to hold back, but he made no move to take control as you both experienced toe-curling orgasms at the same time. When Joel brought you down for a kiss, the second, smaller climax that the overpowering intimacy of the moment had triggered was still reverberating through you.

Your eyes are half-lidded as you pull away from the kiss and look at Joel, who’s heavily panting, breathless, and in awe of you. Joel flips you both over, and your back hits the mattress. He kisses you again, still, inside of you, you are still sensitive from your previous orgasm and cry out, “I can’t…” He pants and groans, “Yes you can sweet girl. You can do it. One more for me Birdie.” He’s hitting deeper and quicker as you try to squirm away from him but all he does is pin you down, grabbing your hands to lock them above your head, causing you to scream and cry out in pleasure. “You’re doing so well. You’re such a good girl.” He praises, and everything feels and sounds amplified, every thrust his hips make, the sounds of slick wet skin slapping together, each grunt and moan mixing and blending between you both finally brings you and him over the edge. He pulls out and paints your stomach while you clench and moan throughout your release.

He folds over atop you, his weight is a welcoming feeling, like a large protective blanket. You’re running your fingers through his hair as he continues to catch his breath and you hum happily, “You good cowboy or do you need a wheelchair?” He grunts, “Haven’t done that in a while. Cut the man some slack.” You laugh loudly and kiss the side of his forehead and he sighs with contentment. After a while, he rolls off of you, pulling you closer to his side, peppering your neck and cheek with kisses, “I’m goin’ to get a clean towel to clean us up.” You nod as he gets up, walks over to the bathroom, comes back with a clean rag, and wipes off the slick between your thighs and stomach.

He sets the cloth aside and climbs back in bed with you, tossing the blanket over both of your bodies, gripping your hips, and pulling you close. You kiss him again, just because you can and both of you are smiling widely at each other. You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you place your forehead on top of his, and Joel grumbles, “I should have pulled out earlier.” To which you yawn, “I have an IUD, it’ll expire in ten years.” Joel’s mouth opens, “You have a… oh right.” You laugh, “Yep. So I can keep riding you, my cowboy.” He smacks your ass and kisses you again as you yelp in surprise, “Keep talkin’ like that and we’re not gonna get any sleep tonight.” You roll your eyes in response but smile up at him.

The quiet between you two is comforting and allows you to rest your eyes, no awkwardness, just a blistering moment of peace. The night sky once ruled your imagination and you used to turn the dials with careful calculation. After a while, you thought you'd never find him and convinced yourself that you would never find him.

Then suddenly, he saw you through telescopes and calculations, the far was pulled so near. You opened your eyes to find yourself under his warm gaze, trying to memorize every feature as if you were constellations in the night sky. But the looming threat that hangs over you makes an appearance in the dark corner of the back of your mind, you whisper, “Joel.” He hums in acknowledgment and you continue, “You should give Ellie a choice. She also has every right to choose too.” He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs agreeing, “Yeah… Been thinking about it a while ago before you jumped my bones.” You smack his shoulder, “I did not!” To which he kisses you breathlessly, “I’ll give her the choice tomorrow.” You nod and cup the side of his face and he says to you so quietly, “We have a long way to go.” To which your eyes softened and kissed the tip of his nose, “Yes, but look how far we’ve come.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – EARLY MORNING

In the morning you don’t say it as both of you wake up to your bodies closely tangled with each other. His heavy arms are wrapped around your waist and his legs are inserted with yours as he kisses the back of your neck. Continuing to worship your entire being. You both had woken up early, sharing the water in the shower, to which you had both agreed you needed to save water, but it was just an excuse to keep touching each other.

By the time you both got out of the hot shower, you both got dressed and made your way to the stables. The chirping of birds brings you to smile at yourself as you brush your horse, preparing to leave. “You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie asks the both of you, causing you to look away from the task and tilt your head and smirk as Joel replies, “No. We came here to steal the horses and go.” To which Tommy says, “I woulda given you them.” And Joel replies with, “I know,” He sniffs and walks to Ellie before continuing, “Anyway… that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess… you deserve a choice. I still think you’d be better off with Tommy…” It’s no surprise that Ellie shoves her bag at Joel, “Let’s go.” He blinks and you laugh as he answers, “Okay.”

Both of you exit the stables with your horses, Joel helps Ellie mount his horse and you mount your own horse. “General direction?” Joel asks his brother, “Head southeast til you hit I-25. It’s right off the interstate. Shouldn’t be hard to miss.” He nods at Tommy before they both pull each other into a hug. They pull away and Tommy says, “There’s a place for you here… All three of you.” Joel gruffly says, “Countin’ on it.” And he spots Tommy’s rifle swung across his shoulder, “Can I borrow that?” Tommy nods, “Yeah.” But Joel continues to talk, “‘Cause Maria took mine.” Tommy throws him a look, “I already said yes, Joel. Adios, big brother.”

The large wooden gate’s latch is lifted open as your two horses trot through the snow. Exiting the safe, gated, community of Jackson. Your journey continues through the wilderness of Wyoming. The cold chilly air creates goosebumps at the back of your neck as you ride your horse past the tall emerald-green trees.

After a couple of hours of riding, Joel decides to teach Ellie how to shoot with the rifle. The sound of loud gunshots rings out as Ellie misses the main target. She sighs and Joel comments, “Wide right. You’re flinchin’.” You stand behind the two, enjoying the view of Joel and Ellie having some time together. Ellie shakes her head at him, denying, “The target’s too small.” Joel harrumphs at her, “I made it bigger than I should’ve. Eject the cartridge.” She does as she is told, and said, “I am not flinching.” Joel hums, “Mm-mhm.” Ellie doesn’t let up, “The rifle just sucks.”

“Okay, give it,” Joel said and Ellie gives it to him and whines, “It doesn’t aim right.” Joel only hums again, “Mm-hmm.” And Ellie frowns as she lifts her binoculars, “You’ll see.” They swap places and Joel grunts as he adjusts the rifle, “A deep breath in, slow breath out.” The girl sighs and Joel glances behind him to look at you, “You squeeze the trigger like you love it.” Your face warms at the memory of what happened last night and what he could be insinuating. You try to hide your smile, he winks at you and then looks to the scope, his voice getting deeper, “Gentle… steady… nice and slow.” Ellie drops her binoculars and groans, “You gonna shoot this thing or get Birdie pregnant? ‘Cause holy shit you guys were loud.” You choke on air at the same time Joel looks at Ellie shamelessly before looking back at the scope with his finger on the trigger. Ellie shakes her head, continuing to be in denial, “It isn’t gonna work. It doesn’t aim right.” A gunshot rings out, and it's a perfect headshot. “You dick.” Ellie says while Joel just smirks smugly and turns to look at you, “Birdie would know.” You throw your head and hands up in exasperation, “I fuckin’ can’t with you two.”

Wind bustled through the branches of the trees, making the leaves howl in their symphony. The horses trot through the snow, as the three of you make your way to the University of Eastern Colorado. The silence is no longer present, only filled by Ellie’s questions and Joel's answers. You occasionally input your own thoughts and ideas, correcting Joel when needed, but otherwise, you let yourself watch them form a connection that Joel was so afraid of.

“So the way they ran stuff in Jackson, was how things used to be?” Ellie asked, and Joel replies, “No. The country was too big for that. Back then, there were basically two main ways of lookin’ at things. Some people wanted to own everything. And some people didn’t want anyone to own anything at all.” Ellie hums, “Which one were you?” And you hear Joel reply, “Neither. I just did my job.” To which you chuckled, knowing that Joel has always tried to stay neutral in anything, it’s more efficient that way.

“Which was… building?” Ellie asks, and Joel confirms her guess, “That’s right. Houses, stores, that kinda thing. We were called ‘contractors’.” The teen mocks his voice, trying to deepen it, “The contractor. That’s pretty cool.” Joel smiles, his lips quirking a bit to the right, “Yeah. We were cool. Everybody loved contractors.” You rolled your eyes at Joel, letting him off the hook and not wanting to correct him at all.

The days go by and you three have been closer than ever. Joel and Ellie discuss the basics and rules of football while you hum to yourself the new song stuck in your head. Enjoying the sight of Joel and Ellie laughing and smiling over mundane topics, feeling your heart more full than ever before. A part of you that had been missing so long, a family you didn’t even know existed, a family you now found.

Further down the road, you pass by the sign indicating to take the I-25. “Well, how ‘bout that? Made it in five days.” Ellie adds, “Easy days. I don’t know what Tommy was so afraid of.” Joel’s mouth curls downwards, “Still time to find out.” To which Ellie mimics his baritone voice, “Still time to find out,” she then creepily whispers, “The Contractorrrr.”

The horses snort and huff as its hooves clop and trot on the pavement of the road. You make your way to the entrance of the deserted university, Ellie says aloud, “Home of the Big Horns. What does that mean?” And you answer, “It was their team mascot. It’s a kind of sheep.” Ellie smiles up at Joel, “Oh, see? One step closer to your dream. Don’t see any Fireflies, though.” He forms a hypothesis, “They’re probably in the middle. Safer.” He nods and leads, “This way.”

Joel has his rifle ready with one hand on the reins. The campus is eerily empty and quiet as your horses trot on the grounds. “So these places… people would live here and, like, what? Got to classes and stuff?” And you nod, “Yup. Sometimes even do research, like me.” She points out, “Even though they were adults.” Yours and Joel’s voices blended together as he answered, “Sort of adults.” While you said, “They were fake adulting.”

“I think it was just as much about partying and findin’ themselves as anythin’ else. Figuring what they wanted to do with their lives.” Joel plainly puts, and Ellie chuckles, “What they wanted to do with their lives.” To your happy surprise, your ears perk up when Joel says, “So I’ve been thinkin’.” You and Ellie urge him to continue, “I don’t want a sheep ranch, actually. I mean, if the deal is I can do anything?” And Ellie nods, “That’s the deal.” He faces the road ahead with a gaze so soft you barely recognized him, “Well… when I was a kid, I wanted to be a singer.” Ellie laughs while you smile widely at him, teeth showing and cheeks pinched upwards, the kid says, “Shut up.” While you say, “Come on Cowboy, let’s hear it. Serenade me.”

“No, you’re both already laughin’.” He grumpily replies, his eyebrows knitted together, and both you and Ellie protest, “Well, you’re singing for me later. I’m gonna save the fuckin’ world, man. It’s the least you could do for me.” Joel relents, “Fair enough. Birdie, what about you? Have you changed your dream yet?”

You smiled at the two people you’d gotten close with over the past few months, the unlikely bond you now were a part of, “I have everything I need right here, what else would I need to dream about?” you said. The two of them looked at you, wide-eyed and breathless at your statement. How funny it is to think, we only notice light when darkness crashes against it. The melody you carry is the strength while they come undone and the aftermath that makes them new.

Content with your answer, you trot forward with your horse and you three stumble upon a troop of monkeys that presumably escaped from a lab, Ellie exclaims excitedly, “Are those monkeys?” The troop proceeds to run away as Joel says, “Must be from the old labs.” The young girl laughs, “Look at them go.” Joel glances at her and asks, “First time seein’ a monkey?” Ellie parrots as a reply, “First time seein’ a monkey.”

“Lookit.” Joel points out to spot a Firefly symbol, “Here we go.” Ellie says, and your head in the direction of the research lab. As you arrive at what looks to be the entrance to the lab, “Guard stations.” Ellie states and Joel hums, “Mhm. No guards.” Ellie is unnerved and wary, she asks to take out her gun, and Joel allows it.

You dismount your horse and tie it to the tree, Joel and Ellie do the same. You arm yourselves as you walk inside the lab. The sound of your footsteps echoes in the deserted building, you look to the ground to see documents and masks littering the concrete floor. “There were definitely doctors here,” Ellie says looking at the test tubes and you spot a brown file on top of the metal trolly. You lift the cover of the folder, peeking at the papers, your eyes skimming over the words while lifting up the yellow sheet of paper, “This is a packing list. They moved out of here.” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow, “They just left?”

And on cue you hear the sound of metal clanging from upstairs, your heads whip up in the direction of the noise, and Ellie remarks, “Maybe not all of them.” Joel takes the lead as you make your way up the stairs, hearing the clanging sound getting louder. Joel finds the specific door to where the noises were coming from, and he readies his pistol, slowly pushing the door open, slightly creaking as it does, to be followed by a high-pitched screech.

Two monkeys hop out of the room through the window, screeching at you for disturbing them. You all lower your weapons and survey the area. You snort at the fact it was so anti-climactic for nothing, Joel utters, “Well… at least it ain’t Clickers.” And Ellie mumbles, “Yeah, no Fireflies either. Maybe in all that research, they turned into fuckin’ monkeys.” You and Joel sense her disappointment, her need for reformation, and ways she could be better in her mind.

You look through the medical equipment and research notes, trying to look for clues to where the group of researchers transferred. Joel approaches the large wooden corkboard, a map of the United States is on display along with notes pasted on the side. You and Ellie walk up next to Joel to analyze the pins pushed in the lines that trace along the roads leading to the center. “That’s where they went?” Ellie said, pointing out St. Mary's Hospital, located in Salt Lake City, Utah. Joel nods, “All the pins lead there. Maybe gettin’ ahead of the weather… better facilities? I don’t know.” The joy in you vanishes against your will. The light goes out and your heart goes still, and just like that, you believe in ghosts.

But then, the trio hears voices. Looking out the window, Joel sees four men armed with weapons, they were raiders. You were weighed down by dread, the flutter of fear in your stomach causes your palms to sweat and tremble. You needed to get out of here and fast. Joel quietly tells you both, “Out the back.” You run down the steps and find the back door, your guns are drawn as you stealthily make it back to your horses, staying ever vigilant. You’re a few steps away from your horses, Joel turns to you both asking in a hushed tone, “Ready?” And you both nod, “Yeah.”

You run to your own horse while Ellie and Joel untie theirs. Something caught your eye in your peripheral vision, a blur of a shadow, and you turn to see a man carrying a baseball bat, lifting it while running at Joel. Ellie screams his name out while you ran towards the attacker, the baseball bat breaks as he tries to hit you but instead strikes a tree. You didn’t think, you just acted, protecting the two people who kept you safe for the majority of your journey. Shoving him with as much force as you could, the raider hits the tree, and Joel comes to your aid, grabbing the raider to break the man’s neck.

You didn’t even realize it until Joel had turned around, in the struggle, the sharp wooden hilt of the bat is stuck inside his abdomen, blood seeping out through the jacket. Ellie’s eyes grow wide in horror and Joel looks down, and grunts as he pulls out the sharp hilt of the bat, you scream, “No, don’t!” But you were too late, and Ellie yells your name, “Birdie you’re also bleeding!” You look down at your own abdomen to find a large slash across it, the maroon blood dripping on the freshly fallen snow, you direct Ellie, “Get Joel on the horse now. We need to leave before…” You hear yelling from a distance and you aim and shoot at the raiders with one hand as the other clutches your stomach while Ellie helps Joel up and back onto the horse.

You use all the strength that you have and pull yourself up to your horse, following Ellie as she shoots them back with you, she yells, “Get back!” And you three were in time to get away from all the other raiders coming. After a few minutes, you three have managed to make it to a safe distance from the attackers, “They’re not following us, I think we’re safe.” Joel doesn’t reply, and Ellie voices her concern as her voice rises as she says yours and Joel’s name.

He’s the first one to collapse from his horse, and you go toppling down as well. You feel the plush landing of the pile of snow, Ellie immediately comes both to your sides, and she says in distress, “Fuck! Shit, no, no no.” The cold weather mixed with the blood loss you were both dealing with were not the best conditions for either of you. “Joel, Birdie, open your eyes come on.” You bring your tired eyes to the girls and cough out to Ellie, “Place pressure on his abdomen and drag him using his sleeping bag, the rope, and the horse Leave me here and find someplace warm.” Ellie can feel her eyes sting and her vision goes blurry, it feels like bittersweet poetry. You softly grab your hand, “Listen to me. Ellie.” She tries to shake her head but you gritted your teeth, the adrenaline had begun to fade and you were beginning to feel the sharp pain across your stomach, you grunt and squeeze her soft small hands, “Ellie, remember what I asked you to promise? Go. Please, save him.”

It had been a campfire night out in the woods at the university and Joel had fallen asleep again during watch. You had both been talking about mundane things, to your hobbies and what you missed about home, to ask about what her life was like in FEDRA school, at one point you realized that there would be a difficult decision to make and that you needed to prepare her just in case it might occur. You didn’t memorize everything from the game, but you knew damn well there would be a possibility that you and Joel might get injured and Ellie would have to choose.

You grab her hand, abruptly stopping her from her previous sentence, and look her in the eye, “Ellie. There will be a time when you have to choose between me and Joel. In the event we both get badly injured, you need to save Joel, no questions asked.” The teen tries to protest but you silence her, leaving no room for argument, “Joel will protect you better than I ever could, we both know that. You need him more than me, I’ve been alone for almost all of my life… this is nothing new, but you… you are something so special. You must choose Joel for your sake, do you understand?” Ellie’s lips form a thin line, and stubbornly she shakes her head, “No. I’ll save you both. Just you watch.” Your eyes soften at her naiveness and hope, “You can’t save everyone, Ellie. So, I know it’s unfair to ask you this, but I need you to promise me to save him when it comes down to it.” Her eyes begin to water as she reluctantly tells you, “Okay.”

In a voice so broken and vulnerable, you hear Ellie whisper into the cold air as she puts pressure on Joel’s wound and looks at both of you, “I can’t fuckin’ do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel, Birdie.” You give her a small smile, “Ellie, sometimes, just getting up and carrying on is brave and magnificent. Keep going, Ellie.” She sniffs and she lets tears slip down her cheeks, you keep smiling as you use the rest of your strength to lift your hand to cup her cheek, wiping away the tears, “It’s okay. It’s okay, Ellie. This was where I was meant to be. Thank you, Ellie, remember that you are loved.”

You feel your vision begins to fade and drop your hand from Ellie’s cheek, letting your head rest on the plush snow, no longer looking at the teen, you tearily look up to feel the snowflakes gently fall on your face. You distantly hear Ellie drag Joel and tie him up on the sleeping bag as a makeshift sled. Your eyelids begin to feel heavy and start to droop, you turn your head to see Joel struggling to open his eyes, seeing your freezing, bleeding-out body staining the white cold snow. Joel cries out your name, pleading, “Birdie. Wait. No. Please…”

You look up at the bright gray sky, blinking and slowly beginning to only hear muffled sounds. Your horse decides to rest next to you, knowing what was about to happen, cuddling your bleeding-out body, and staying with you til the end. You decide that this was the best way to go, protecting and shielding the people you loved as much as you could. So you hum carols softly, as sweet as you know, a prayer that our burdens will lift as you go.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

AGAIN MY BAD FOR THE HUGGGEEE DELAY – I 1000% blame the jet lag since I just flew out to somewhere on the East Coast! Sorry, ya’ll! T^T (Also the fuckin 5 hours of sleep, I am running on fumes rn)

YAY YOU KISSED AND SLEPT TOGETHER WOW GOOD JOB

UR OFFICIALLY HIS GIRL *confetti*

Holy fucking shit that was sO HARD TO WRITE

OKAY NOT BECAUSE I WAS UNCOMFY WRITING IT CHILL– its um, cuz, miss gorl here has never been properly kissed or um had a boyfriend lol so take a freaking guess to why

So writing a romance scene reALLY REALLY TESTED MY KNOWLEDGE, PATIENCE, AND HECKING ALL THE ROMANCE BOOKS I’VE READ PLEASE I WAS CLAWING MY WAY THROUGH THE ENTIRE TIME

I hope it wasn’t too awful or unrealistic :,))

HORRAY FOR FINALLY FACING YOUR FEAR AND VOICING OUT UR NEEDS AND WANTS GOOD JOB HERE HAVE A COOKIE

FUCK JOEL GOT STABBED MF

YOU ALSO GOT INJURED?? AGAIN?? WTF IS WRONG WITH U *bonk* ARE U DEAD OH NO? WTH!?!?1

ALSO MF PEDRO PASCAL IF I EVER MEET YOU I MIGHT HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN IN FRONT OF YOU AFTER YOU DESCRIBED PTSD SO WELL WTF– ahem, I have PTSD and I’ve never seen me represented properly in any television series or movies. It’s always (usually) war veterans yk (CALM DOWN— CHILL PRETTY VALID AND PRETTY DAMN FUCKIN TRAUMATIC) But as someone who has PTSD and yk hasn’t been to a literal war it’s a bit harder to connect or relate to it (im not fucking whining, I’m just telling you my experience with PTSD) But the way Pedro showed it— fuck man. It was like staring at a mirror. My own brokeness represented in one episode. I felt so seen for the first time.

BUT THIS ONE, MF PEDRO U DESERVE ALL THE AWARDS

yay for Maria and Tommy! Such cuties congrats on the baby!!

someone should probably help me find a boyfriend— idk i Need research for smut :DD (this is a joke please don’t)

This chapter was wAYYYU more personal and intimate to write about. I just needed to do this right for my sake and others.

Sorry for the delay! The smut part was a little bit intimidating to write since yk I have zero experience with it LMAO

Thank you for sticking with me and I look forward to all of your comments and feedback! It gives me an idea if im doing this right and opportunity to connect with all of you! I LOVE YOU GUYS SOSOS MUCH AND OFF TO EP 7 I GO AHHHHH

Grace

#uneven odds joel miller #unevenodds #uneven odds #unevenoddstaglist #alternate universe #joel miller masterlist #joel miller x poc!reader #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joelmiller #joel miller x reader au #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader tlou #joel miller x modern reader #tlouhbo #tlou series #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou au

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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 6 months

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pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader

content warnings: none really for this chapter, mentions of anxiety & depression

word count: 2.5k

find chapters 1-3 RIGHT HERE on: wattpad

summary of book: Jean Kirstein has no interest in girls. He'd tried dating and found himself often bored before the end of the evening. Competing for captain of The University of Trost's lacrosse team, there is no shortage of women available to him but he'd rather be on the field. Unfortunately for him, it's the off season. (Y/N), however, found herself feigning ignorance about her desire to love deeply and be loved even deeper. After her first day at college, her hopes for the school year diminished greatly until she grew to know Jean.

summary of chapter: It’s (Y/N)’s first day at the University of Trost. Having gone through most of highschool keeping to herself, she suspects that college will be just the same. However, she runs into an old friend and discovers that college may not be as easy to avoid people in. (Y/N) begins to suspect she’s going to have a long year at college, thanks to her picking what would be the worst seat in psych class.

note: this is going to be a slow burn with many chapters, i am hoping for at least 30. although this is a jean fic, i will be potentially exploring a connie plot line. this story will contain topics of mental health/illnesses, suicide/death, grief, violence, drugs & alcohol, sex and other sensitive subjects. i will do my best to give you a warning ahead of time.

_____________________________________

of lilacs & lacrosse

chapter 1.) first day

I'd say the funny thing is that I'd say I'd never given too much thought about how I'd fall in love, but that would be too much of an easy lie to spot. Love was all around me. It was in the movies, the songs, it was on the train and in the grocery store. I was frustrated when it didn't come to me in highschool, when a mysterious, pale man hadn't approached me, like the media had taught me. Where was my love and was it worth the wait?

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I've known these people since middle school, of course not every single one of them, but the ones that mattered, I'd known them. Hell, I'd even been friends with them at some point. Why was it so hard now? Was it the fear of saying something silly or more simply, the fear of being less than enough? More than enough?

These thoughts kept me up the entire night before the first day of college. I'd woken up in sweats, in screams even. I told myself, college would be no different than highschool and I'd be alright.

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Beep, beep, beep.

That's it, it's time.

I yawn, my ears pissed off from hearing the never relenting alarm of my phone. Panic filled me.

Why?

I've been settled into my dorm for quite some time, it was nothing special but nothing to be ashamed of either. I pull the blankets off of me and swing my legs over the edge of my bed, which seemed to not want to let go of me, but very well could have been my own reluctance wanting to keep me in place. My bare feet hit the ground and I inhale.

It's just an 8 a/m class, (y/n). Just an 8 a/m. No matter the first day or not.

I tiptoe across the cold, hardwood floor. Opening my closet, I'm surprised at the lack of options for my first day of college, even though I was the one who had done the lack of college shopping. I wasn't going to complain, I'm not the type of person who cared so much about clothing and having the newest things. I was okay wearing clothes from highschool. It's not like anybody would actually notice. A simple outfit would do for the day. A black t-shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and nothing more, except for a hair tie to keep half of my mess up. And shoes, of course shoes. My black and white converse sat on the floor, under my massive collection of black clothes. Pick me, they called. I grab my sneakers and bundle my clothes under my arm, shutting the closet doors behind me. I slip my choices over me and look in my bedroom mirror. Smoothing out non-existent wrinkles, I can't help but let my mind think. My eyes meet my own.

Was I afraid? Was I confident? Would anyone else be able to tell?

Stop it, (y/n.) You'll get nowhere, I tell myself abruptly.

My clothes are satisfactory enough. There is nobody I need to impress today and I'm okay with that. I'm not looking to make friends, just looking to make it through one class. I look at myself in the mirror, tugging my hands over places I'd hope nobody would look at. My steps to the bathroom are as sad as I'd imagined they'd be last night, trying not to make any sound although I'm the only one who could hear. Makeup bags sit on the white bathroom sink with various beauty products strewn about. I grab my go-to bag and unzip. My fingers fumble in the makeup bag on the counter. Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.

What if they don't like you?

Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.

Who's they, (y/n)? You don't actually really know anybody. Besides, I thought you weren't looking to impress anybody and you were just fine with that.

Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.

My hands tremble with the mascara wand.

"Fuck, shit." My lips part before I know. Dots of black cloud my eyes. In the mirror, I frown. I bite my lip, I'd already fucked up with nobody around. I feel a growing black cloud in my brain.

No big deal, (y/n). Clean it up, it's alright.

I grab a q-tip, quickly turn on the faucet and wet it under the water. I begin to blur away my mistakes. I bring the q-tip up to my face, relentlessly poking at the lingering black marks upon my face.

Go away, go away, I'll be late, I plead.

Eventually, the gods oblige to my demands. My eyelashes, and myself, are happy. My fingers find themselves once again fumbling in my makeup bag for a probably expired foundation. Even though I don't remember the last time I had actually gone and bought foundation, I don't have the heart to check the date, but there's no way I'm going to my classes on the first day without any face makeup. I pour a bit of my foundation on the back of my hand to warm it up before applying it straight to my face. I dip my beauty blender into the cream and bring it to my face. I'm staring straight into the mirror.

Who is this? It's me, idiot. It's always been me. Stop thinking.

I tune out the rest of my thoughts before I finish my foundation. I place the container back into my bag, and dig around for my eyebrow brush. Not like I actually do anything to my eyebrows, but somehow brushing them out creates a false sense of security.

Brush your eyebrows, (y/n), nothing bad will happen today. Oh please, brush your eyebrows (y/n), you've saved the world from eternal damnation.

My eyebrows are clean, sleek, and saving the world from an intergalactic attack. Eyebrow brush back in the bag, I search for my lip gloss. It was nearly a clear, transparent lip gloss but hey if it made my lips shiny, someone was bound to notice, right?

Right.

I'm looking in the mirror, I'm satisfied. My lip gloss is good and the shade of black my shirt is, well, black. No time to reflect on that. I head out of my bathroom, which I am grateful for the fact there's nobody to share it with. I'd somehow gotten lucky finding a cheap apartment I could afford without having a roommate and didn't have to settle for a college dormitory. This, however, did have its downsides. The place is quiet and I find myself staring. My kitchen is missing a sense of home. I shake away the fact and think about what I want for breakfast.

Pancakes? Eggs? Both? Nothing? Oatmeal?

There's no use. I hate the kitchen. I don't want to make anything for myself. I don't want to use any of my good, hard earned money for breakfast. I grab my black Jansport backpack that I purposely left on the counter last night. I would have forgotten it if I left it in my room but I can always count on myself to have a good old fashioned kitchen crisis. I stand in my kitchen, looking around.

I hate this.

I grit my teeth, unsure of how to be a person without anybody else around me. I made the heavy decision that heading out the front door is best for me. My steps to the door are heavy, unchanging and solid. I shut the door to my apartment. The hallway is cold and unforgiving of crimes I've never committed.

I'm sorry, college apartment, I'll never do it again.

Another thing I had gotten extremely lucky with regarding my apartment, was that I could walk to the campus in under ten minutes, five if I decide to really put some pep in my step. Outside my building, the leaves are still green and wanting to hold onto the summer. I stand under the overhang and pull out my phone from my pocket.. The weather app tells me it's 79 degrees, which is typical for the beginning of September in Trost. Maybe even a bit cooler. I pull some earbuds out of the mesh bindings on the side of my backpack. Untangling them is a challenge but the bigger challenge is deciding what to listen to.

[play: To All Of You- Syd Matters]

The campus is bigger than I expected. Maybe it would have been smart to have come by earlier and taken a look. The main building looks like a museum, it's built of brick and there are students everywhere I look. Most people are smiling and walking with a friend. I take everything in as I walk. There's a girl with purple hair sitting at a green metal picnic table, the kind that had holes and people would get their fingers stuck in. Her fingers are free as she dances a pencil across a black notebook. The leaves are blowing and I try not to think about the fact that nobody else is thinking about me. The grass is very green and for that, I am thankful. Nothing is dead. My steps are silent to me as I near the entrance. A boy walks in before me. He is wearing a black sweatshirt with the number nine in white on it. I cannot see his face and he doesn't look back to see mine. He does not hold the door for me. Upon reaching the door, I am cruelly reminded that nobody waits for you. I am alone. The door handle is cold in my grasp. My first and only class today is psychology, because who doesn't love their brain being fucked with at 8 am?

Nostalgia hits my nose when I step inside. It's cooler than it was outside and the lockers are blue. The floor is tiled and white with gray specks underneath my black shoes. Students are leaning against lockers, some people are completely frozen in time and others are bustling. I scurry to the side of the hallway to stay out of the way. I pull my phone out and look at my lock screen that I had previously set to a screenshot of an email reminder from my teacher. My psych class was on the first floor in one of the lecture halls. The time at the top of my phone reads 7:50. I put it back in my pocket and make my way down the hallway. I am able to find the room quite easily.

Nobody stands out to me as I pass through the doorway. It seems to be mostly carbon copies of the same brainless girls who would spew about how they'd change the world with their non-existing compassion. My eyes flicker across the room, trying to find a spot that would be the least painful to sit in. I don't want to sit completely alone in the back but I don't want to sit directly next to anybody either. I found a seat in the somewhat crowded room. It was towards the back but closer to the middle section and it was an aisle seat, closest to the wall with nobody occupying the seat next to it. A girl with brown hair sat just next to the empty seat. I wonder if she made the same game plan as me. I walk up the steps to my seat and sit. Quickly, I turn my head, wanting to see who is sitting with me. I can't see her face. Her head is tilted down and her phone is resting on the desk. She is focused on whatever it is she's doing. I turn my head back and take my headphones out of my ears then unplug them from my phone. 7:59. The professor was not here yet.

"Y/n?"

My head instinctively whips to the right, completely startled. My eyes zooming across the features of the person who called my name.

God, who knows me here? And who was it that remembers me?

Her skin is sun-kissed tan, or maybe it was natural. Blurts of freckles were clinging to her slim cheeks and small, pointy nose. Her hair is brown and brushed out of her face into a ponytail, a few pieces escaping the clutch of the loose hair tie. Eyelashes dark and the bags under them too. I have to peel my eyes away from her face. She's wearing a baggy black shirt and jean shorts. My eyes travel back upwards to look at hers. That's when I recognized her.

"Oh my god, Ymir?" She smiles and tilts her head at me.

"It only took you about, hm..." She looks down at an invisible watch on her wrist. "Thirty minutes."

Ymir and I were friends when we were younger. Actually, we were really close. She was even my first kiss. We used to be inseparable but I grew up and she grew mean. It was when highschool came around that I began to hate being around. She was just cruel to me, to herself, and to others. It was draining to even just exist in her cesspool of hate. Ymir could be sweet when she had wanted to be but it was rare to receive any love or support. However, when she loved me, she really loved me. She'd hold me so tight I was afraid I'd shatter but without her arms around me, I'd have shattered anyway. It was sophomore year when she had met a girl. Meeting Historia was the complete end of us. We weren't in love or anything simple of the sort, but it would have been nice of her to think about me first, or think of me at all.

"I'm so sorry, you surprised me, that's all." I hope my eyes aren't as wide as I think they are. A smirk still lingers on her face. She really was beautiful even after all these years. Ymir put her arms behind her head and stretched a bit. There was a tattoo of a triangle right above the inside of her elbow. I wonder what that meant.

Was it just a triangle? Maybe she had a matching one with Historia. Side note, I completely forgot her and I have matching shitty tattoos, just little stars by our ankles. We'd always wanted to go to a shop together to get professional ones but Ymir's garage was as classy as it got.

"How've you been?"

"Ah, (y/n.) I knew you'd be here, I bet your brainy ass is already psycho-analyzing me." She put her arms on the table in front of us.

Would she ever stop smiling?

"Why are you here? And I've been good, thanks for asking." I don't know if I'm making a playful joke or being snarky.

"I wouldn't mind learning a few tricks to get into people's heads. Besides, this class looked the most entertaining and you're here, so it must be my lucky day." She slides into the seat next to me. She leaned in close to me. "Are you wearing makeup?" This was going to be the longest class of my life.

click here to continue reading

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 10 months

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hello lovely, this is re: sex witch stuff. do you have any advice for figuring out whether what's up with you is an a-spec thing or a depression thing?

context being: I've suspected I'm somewhere on the asexuality spectrum because I don't usually get *attracted* attracted to people unless I've gotten to know them somewhat. but at the same time, I've been depressed since I was a young teen and in the past few years, my libido has definitely gone down and I usually only get horny around my period. part of it is probably the meds and the fact that I'm Exhausted all the time (being in uni and having to be an adult doesn't help lol). I'm 23 and still a virgin, but I do get the sense that I would enjoy casual sex or an FWB situation. the other thing is - I do enjoy my own company, and I know I'm probably not in the best place to be in a relationship, but at the same time I'm a little lonely and would love to be in that long-term relationship stage of things yk? but I have no great desire to be actively dating (lack of energy also factors into this), and hookups are not a big thing in my culture so sex kind of goes with dating. which is why I still can't figure out whether this is more of an a-spec thing or depression + mild social anxiety thing :/

I'm the last anon about aspec vs depression thing. forgot if I mentioned it or not but I'm 23F, bi (I think. I tend to use queer. never actually been on a date with a girl before) and cis so there isn't any major gender or sexuality issues complicating things. I do have some body insecurities which may play into it (was naturally quite slim and then I lost more weight in the past 2 years due to meds which means my boobs are even smaller than before) but overall i think I'm fairly body neutral at this point 🤷‍♀️

hi anon,

I'm going to say something that I worry has the chance to come across as condescending and I want you to know that that's not my intent at all. I'm not trying to downplay your curiosity or exploration of self, or the mental health experiences that you've had. you're the predominant expert on yourself, and you can feel free to disregard all of this.

having said that:

what you're describing doesn't sound like it's solely a depression thing or necessarily an asexual thing at all. it sounds like being a busy 23 year old with a lot on their plate and having more pressing things to focus on than sex, even though sex sounds kind of nice. that's very normal for lots of people whether they're asexual or not, and it's actually great to hear that you're aware that you're not in the best place for a relationship and that you're already comfortable in your own company. it may not be the most fun thing, but being self-aware and able to be happy on your own are both important skills to cultivate.

you definitely could be asexual! I'm not denying that! but just chilling sex-free while you're busy and stressed and tired with uni and other things isn't hard proof, especially when it sounds like sex is something you think would be fun and desired for you if it were a better fit for your life right now.

some further reading that may be helpful:

The Sex Myth (Rachel Hills) - one of the very first sex books I read back in my baby sex witch days; a helpful reveal that most people are, on average, not having as much sex as they claim or want to be having

Come As You Are (Emily Nagoski) - neat insights from Dr. Nagoski about the ways that stress and other factors fuck with cis womens' sex drive and sexuality (and how to approach that with grace and self-compassion)

Ace (Angela Chen) - a phenomenal look at the experience of asexuality by an asexual writer, which may be helpful in determining if asexuality feels like the right label for your experiences

#sex edventures 2023

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joannerowling · 8 months

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(spoilers for The Running Grave) What did you think of Charlotte's character arc now that it has ended? I haven't seen much discussions of it but personally I think the chapter about her suicide was one of the most well written parts of the book. Strike's thought process afterwards, and his character development, really struck me too. Something I really love is that Jo's books are always more about how to survive death than they are about death itself. You see that all the time in both CS and HP, grief is an important part in all of those books. Everytime there's a scene dealing with grief, that's when her writing never fails to go straight to my heart. I'm thinking about Harry's reaction to Sirius' death in Dumbledore's office, or the way he learns and talks about his parents, Cedric, Sirius; about how Strike remembers his mother, etc. These moments are so moving. And in HP, she takes this even further, as the story is not about death but about literally surviving death (Harry surviving Avada Kedavra in book 1; Harry making peace with his own death in book 7 (that moment right after he watched Snape's memories and he's lying on Dumbledore's office's floor and it dawns on him he is meant to die, I think that's a very underrated HP moment)). Then you also have the fact that CS is just as much about the suspects/the characters who grieve than the victims/the characters who die. I think her approach to death, grief, surviving, is very interesting.

And also, the message behind Charlotte's suicide, that you can't help people that want to be saved, reminded me of the way the house elf liberation plotline was explored in HP and I thought it interesting to see that's the kind of messages Jo put in both her series.

Not to mention the social message behind it. When Strike thought that her death was a sort of "relief" because he won't ever again die of anxiety wondering how Charlotte is doing, because he should have seen it coming, because it was very likely to end like that -- god, as someone who has had relatives dying after following a self-destructive path, I felt that. It is incredibly depressing yet so realistic and Jo's awareness of those issues is beyond what I typically see in any other sort of media.

Anyway, I had many, many thoughts about that, sorry I rambled!

Thank you for your message (i'm keeping part 2 for a different response, since this one's getting long already!)

I was also really moved by Charlotte's death, specifically the deceptive lack of fanfare that makes it look almost anticlimatic at first glance. She kills herself, predictably for a character who has been presented as passively or actively suicidal from her introduction. Her death doesn't happen at the end and isn't relevant to the case. And yet it echoes one central theme of the book: self-destruction, which is what you do when you join a cult (it's a destruction of the individual). This is also hugely important in Strike's character journey, since TRG is the book where he rises above his most self-destructive impulses. Worth noting that Charlotte dies smack in the middle of the book too (ch. 64), so "central" is to be taken quite literally there.

It's almost as if Charlotte survived so far because Strike kept clinging to self-sabotaging impulses, and she could sense that. But as he truly has a new determination to move on and become a person who acts responsibly towards his own needs and the needs of others, she can no longer hold on to existence. There's both symbolism and realism there - we often talk about men committing murder-suicide on their ex-wife/girlfriend when they realise they no longer have any power over them; Charlotte doesn't go so far but the harm she attempts as her last gesture (the letter blaming him) is no less intentional.

I would just nuance the parallel you're making between Charlotte and the Elves situation in HP. The Elves are not beyond rescuing, they just need to be treated with respect, and that's the lesson Hermione learns from that subplot, not that she makes a mistake trying to change things. Whereas Strike does have to learn not only that he couldn't save Charlotte, but also, her happiness is not his responsibility, and playing hero to mentally ill women is a terrible coping mechanism for his issues in general.

#replies #anon #cs #trg #trg spoilers #cormoran strike #charlotte campbell

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autumnsvoice87 · 16 days

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Check Point- Disabled

And facing Childhood Trauma

So in January, I got another psychological assessment done. I have Adhd, Autism, Cptsd, depression and anxiety. I wanted an updated one for the fight for disability services. I also have been in severe chronic pain since late august of 2023. It is due to a herniated disk pressing on the nerves. I have not worked since then. I also have mostly only worked part-time when I was working. I am Disabled.

I am going after SSDI and have a disability lawyer. My mother got SSI for me as a child up until I was about a teenager. For my fight with disability I asked my mother if she had those past documents. She found them and gave them to me. I figured it would be helpful.

I discovered a few things. I found an assessment from my school district from 99 that my teachers and mother noticed or suspected at least that I was on the adhd index. Also in another assessment done by the state, the main reason why I got SSI as a child because I showed some kind of developmental disorder that they labeled a personality disorder. I also had childhood depression. Now I grew up in the late 80s and 90s.

There may not have been many services for adhd and autism and women/girls went under the radar because our symptoms presented differently. It's possible my mother never read the documents in full. However, finding these made me so angry.

I was angry that she never did anything about it. I never received therapy or any special services other than speech therapy for my hearing issues. On top of it, mental/emotional abuse and physical abuse.

"You're so silly no wonder you don't have any friends"

"You're so slow....speed up"

"Don't be stupid"

"Don't talk back to me in that tone or you'll get spanked" *confused child here...what tone?*

Being punished for being annoying. My mother wrote down in the assessment I'd say one word over and over again. And it would annoy everyone.

"You're so childish. You need to grow up" um....the documents said I had a developmental disorder.

Me-"mom, I think there's something wrong with me."

Mom- "There's nothing wrong with you. It's all in your head."

The list can go on and on. I try not to think too much about these things. It made me angry at first, but I also now feel like crying. My mother was my first bully.

I also have been grieving due to suddenly finding myself physically disabled as well. I have been feeling like a part of my life is now over. It isn't what you think, though. I had many dreams squashed.

I've had many ideas on how to make it in this world financially and make my mark on the world. Being unable to work and realizing how dysfunctional I've been due to my adhd. Having ideas and projects that sit around collecting dust, having little to no energy to do anything. Motivation is hard unless I am in hyperfocus mode.

I have been sleeping most of the day because pain meds make me sleepy. My antidepressants also made me sleepy since I had to up the dose. I has at one point went into suicide ideation mode. Feeling like I would rather be dead than to feel this pain every day. Some days are better than others but not by much. Hence, there is a higher dose in meds.

I also realized I had internalized ablesm. Things I've thought about myself are based on the societal expectations of productivity, and I finally saw how people looked down on disabled people because of how I looked down on myself. I had many Ableist thoughts about myself that I had to let go of.

My therapist made me realize that just because I'm disabled doesn't mean I'm less than or not worthy of compassion and love. Several times, I've felt bad about myself because I am not physically able to do the things I used to do. Just because I'm disabled doesn't mean I'm worthless and a waste of space. My past bullies including my mom have always made me feel less than.

Setting myself free from this bullshit feels liberating. However, I notice it is still very much a part of society, and it is frustrating as hell 😑.

Also showers and taking care of oneself is so exauhsting...

There's so many feelings... some I don't even know how to express adequately. 😕

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spencerrscardigans · 3 months

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─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

blog introduction!

hello! finally, after a long time of wanting to, i finally decided to make a blog! as i am still planning and putting everything together, i thought that i may as well post an introduction post!

my main focus for this blog likely will be for writing some original work and mainly fanfic writing, talking about and analyzing literature (i may make a separate blog for this), and chronic illness/disability content!

my inspiration to create this came from my longtime longing to write and share my own work as i have been an avid reader, especially of fanfics, and i have many, many, ideas living in my head. i originally started planning out a few (a lot) of multi chapter stories, both fanfics and original work/ideas, and i had everything planned out thoroughly, however since i had never committed to writing something to that extent, i thought where best to start than with one-shots and short stories!

besides the writing, i also was inspired to post about and make content about chronic illness and disability as it is something that i live with and is a big part of my life, and when i first started my “journey” of learning how to live with these things, i felt very alone and craved to have somewhere where i could relate and feel less alone in my experiences, so my hope with this blog is to be a place and resource to do such a thing that i, and likely many others would seek out.

about the person behind the blog!

you can call me mae, and my pronouns are she/her! i am seventeen years old, and in the future, i would love to peruse research, with my main goal/dream being to go to medical school to become a doctor!

i am chronically ill, and have (unofficial diagnosis) hypermobile-ehlers danlos syndrome (hEDS), postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS), and due to what we think was caused by prolonged physical pain and emotional trauma, i have developed central sensitization and fibromyalgia, which is a neurological disorder that essentially means my central nervous system amplifies and sends incorrect signals to my body.

i am neurodivergent, and have adhd, and i also highly suspect that i am autistic, however i am unable to get a diagnosis. i also struggle with mental illnesses, and have depression, anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder, anorexia (in recovery!), and cptsd.

despite being sick, i have always been highly ambitious, and (when my health permits/permitted it) i have picked up many hobbies and interests! some of these hobbies/interests include sports, and i played soccer for years, did badminton at school for a little while, went to a basketball camp (which i did not like), and my current sport being riding horses, though i had to temporarily pause until my health allows it again, but when i can handle it i will definitely be getting back into riding! i have also picked up and attempted to learn a few instruments, some being with my schools band, and others i picked up on my own, including clarinet, saxophone (tried both tenor and alto, but preferred and more so stuck to tenor), piano, and guitar!

i also love reading, educating myself on pretty much anything i possibly can, but especially science related things, writing, poetry, baking, gardening, photography, knitting (attempting to) and crocheting, sewing, and would also love to get into pottery!

i am a huge animal lover! in my life, i have had hamsters, guinea pigs, a bunny, and dogs! and now currently i have 3 adorable rats, and i also have a cat who is my pride and joy lol. in the future if my lifestyle permits it, i would love to have more animals, and would also love to rescue and foster!

i love listening to music, with some (but not limited to) of my favourite artists being david bowie, the smiths, hozier, taylor swift, phoebe bridgers, tv girl, mac demarco, mitski, and big thief! (inspo for some of my writing)

some of my favourite tv shows, movies, books and general fandoms i am in include (in no particular order) the walking dead, fleabag, all the bright places, criminal minds, bones, the last of us, dead poets society, harry potter, house, greys anatomy, and stranger things.

plans i have for my writing

i have many, many, writing ideas, especially for fanfics and one-shots (will often include themes of chronic illness and mental health), and some of (but not limited to) the characters i will be writing (platonic and romantic) for include:

(for marvel) peter parker (mainly tom holland and andrew garfield’s spider-man’s), pietro maximoff, bucky barnes, matt murdock, stephen strange, natasha romanoff, loki, bruce banner, and tony stark

(for twd) daryl dixon, rick grimes, maggie greene/rhee, glenn rhee, carl grimes, rosita espinosa

(for tlou) joel miller, ellie williams

(for criminal minds) spencer reid, aaron hotchner, emily prentiss, derek morgan

(for harry potter) fred and george weasley, remus lupin, sirius black, james potter

(stranger things) steve harrington, eddie munson, robin buckly

there is probably many characters missing from my list above, which is why i will be creating a separate post that will go more into detail about the characters i plan on writing for. i will also be creating a separate post that goes more in detail about the types of writing that i will do, and the types that i will not write, and will include a link for requests.

as my writing/blog progresses, i will be making a navigation post that will have links to important information like my blog rules, masterlists and etcetera, but i thought that i might as well include some info here so you know what to expect!

#intro post #introduction #introductory post #meet the blogger #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #marvel #bucky barnes #matt murdock #peter parker #spiderman #the walking dead #daryl dixon #criminal minds #spencer reid #chronically ill #chronic illness #chronic pain

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nonbinaryhatboxghost · 10 months

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8:00am. I successfully socialized for a while last night. Had some good Korean BBQ, caught up with some folks I haven't seen in a month or so, then I went home.

I'm going to try and write a longer entry here because I've been doing these brief scattershot posts that almost certainly don't convey a positive mental state. Which, to be fair, is accurate.

I'm not at my best lately. I've had difficulty finding energy for things outside of work because my new position (I've been in this position for almost three months and yet it still feels new) takes a lot out of me. I'm dealing with constant questions/clarifications from co-workers on a specific project that I was assigned to be the new expert on, I'm dealing with more consistent interactions with upper management, I'm staring at multiple computer monitors for hours every day (I have blue light glasses, so that helps a little), and while I'm no longer isolated in a screening room for 8 hours a day, I'm still working in a windowless room.

I have a retail therapy problem. I've definitely already talked about this, but I love physical media. I've been collecting CDs since I was in elementary school, DVDs and Blu-rays for almost as long, and lockdown finally made me cave and start collecting vinyl. And the thing about physical media, particularly vinyl these days, is that there is always a new thing to acquire that's only going to be available "for a limited time." So my already collecting-happy self goes into overdrive trying to acquire whatever new shiny disc relevant to my interests is about to be released. Today it was pre-ordering the Best Buy 4K SteelBook release of (the incredible) Prey and the mail-order exclusive "They Live" Blue with White Splatter variant of John Carpenter and co.'s upcoming album Anthology II (Movie Themes 1976-1988).

Now, do I genuinely want and enjoy these things? Hell yes. I was floored by how good Prey was, and I am still shocked that Disney has decided to start releasing some of their streaming titles on physical media. I am also a huge fan of John Carpenter, and own almost all of his music in one form or another.

But these are also not solutions to my current, to be honest almost-always-present problem: I feel isolated.

I have full brain servings of depression and anxiety. I became aware of the former maybe a decade ago, and discovered the latter was a bigger problem than I thought after I had my first(?) panic attack at work a few years ago. I've been in therapy since 2016, I've taken meds since 2018. I am doing better than I was, but despite all of the progress that I logically know that I've made, I feel stuck.

I've tried asking for help outside of therapy, but part of the problem is that despite being someone who wants/needs more attention and affection from folks, I have an instinct to isolate myself in order to not burden others with my problems. I've been fighting that instinct to mixed success. I suspect that I've isolated myself in this regard for so long that now a lot of folks don't really think of or invite me to hang because they're possibly under the impression that I don't want to interact with them. Or maybe it's the standard people growing apart thing. Or (and here is what the depression monster tells me) they find me boring/depressing/annoying/pathetic/etc.

Another thing is that I'm newly polyamorous. I'm currently seeing one person, who has needed to take some time for themself for a variety of reasons. I understand and respect that, even though I wish I could do something to help outside of leaving them alone for the time being. I also miss them. Part of the point of polyamory is not putting all of one's emotional eggs into one basket, and I'm always open to new connections. But with how I'm doing lately, I'm getting trapped in this vicious cycle of wanting to connect with someone because I want connection/attention/affection, then feeling guilty for wanting that and worrying that I only want connection/attention/affection as a distraction from how not well I'm doing, then my brain tells me that I shouldn't be with anyone until I've sorted all of my own stuff out and around and around it goes.

I'm a person, I have problems, and I don't want to put all those problems on another person. I once said to current partner that "my loneliness is not your responsibility." I still feel that way. But I also can't find a consistent solution or solutions to this loneliness.

I'm a very simple nerd. I like hanging out and chatting with folks, and I'm not opposed to going out and doing activities. But I don't really do things like bar-hopping or going to nightclubs. I'm very shy and don't really know what social space I'd be most comfortable in. Dating apps make me uncomfortable, and years ago when I was actively using them I had nothing but bad experiences. There's a local arcade bar that I go to for karaoke sometimes, which has been nice, but not really a space for making new friends.

I just don't know how to initiate hangs outside of movie nights. And despite watching movies with folks sincerely being one of my love languages, I know that can't be the only way I spend time with people. I'm open to new stuff, I just need help with the new stuff.

I'm looking into taking piano lessons for the first time since I was in 4th grade. I left the chorus I was part of a while ago, so I would like a new consistent music-related thing/structure in my life.

I have a close friend visiting next month and I'm really looking forward to seeing them.

I know that at some point next year I'll be traveling to wherever The Kingcast is hosting their next big event, and possibly with another friend who has recently gotten into King (and who has rapidly overtaken me in the number of King books they've read).

I'm hopefully remote-hanging with someone this week that I haven't gotten to hang with in a while.

And yeah, I have a 4K disc arriving in the mail today (The Nightmare Before Christmas).

I'm trying. I just wish I was getting better faster.

#personal

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belatedbday69 · 2 years

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FOLKS IM WRITING BKDK AGAIN

Homecoming

Rated: T 3/12 7.7k so far

Whoever said time heals all wounds hasn't met Midoriya Izuku. When Katsuki returns to Musutafu after many years, Izuku is forced to confront the elephant in the room of his heart, the ache he's carried for so long he forgot it was there.

They're pro-heroes, like 25. Izuku's POV. It's the fake relationship trope! It'll be angsty and fun and it will definitely have a happy ending :) CW for anxiety and some depression but nothing too intense. Here's the beginning:

Izuku doesn’t go out drinking often. He likes to have fun with his friends, but when he’s around tons of people he gets a little freaked out. His body goes on high alert as if he’s waiting for something, or someone, as if the dull mood lighting hides things in the shadow it provides. People’s faces look weird to him. He finds himself doing double-takes at the strangers on the edges of his vision. He becomes agitated when he notices the alcohol hacking away at his senses, messing with his reflexes.

It can’t be too bad, though, because he’s out again tonight with the crew; Mina, Denki, Hanta, Tsuyu, and Ochako. Their agencies collaborated on a case last year and ever since then, they’ve stayed a close-knit group. It’s been almost seven years now since they graduated from UA, and most of the rest of their class has taken on projects in other cities or moved altogether. That’s another reason Izuku comes out; he misses his classmates. Not that he misses being seventeen, hell no. But as the years pass he feels more and more disconnected from that time of his life, as if it were all some bizarre dream. Part of that dream, in particular, is impossible to think about, and even thinking about thinking about it makes his stomach drop.

“Are you okay?” Tsuyu asks, her brow furrowed in concern. She waves her hand in front of Izuku’s face, her eyes wide. “Hey, Izuku?” Ochako pulls her in to whisper in her ear.

“Yeah? Hey Tsu. I’m okay.” He shakes himself out of his reverie and focuses his eyes again on the people sitting on the black leather couch in front of him. Mina, Denki, and Hanta bicker about something stupid, Izuku can tell by the way Mina has to hold back laughter every time Denki speaks, but she doesn’t shut him up like he’s being offensive. Hanta watches on, displaying different exaggerated expressions, interjecting every so often to perform a one-liner and receive a slap on the arm.

“Wait, and then what did you say?” Mina asks Denki.

“If I flip this coin, what are the chances of me giving you head?”

“Oh my God.” Mina throws her head back, cackling. “Are you serious?”

“You’re a menace to society, man,” Hanta says before giving a not-so-sly fist bump to Denki.

“You’re embarrassing is what you are. I don’t know if I can be seen with you anymore.” She turns away, her arms folded, clearly faking mad.

“Aw, c’mon Min, don’t act like you wouldn’t melt faster than ice cream if Eijirou said that to you.”

Her jaw drops. She whips her head around. “What did you just say to me?”

Denki leans back, a satisfied look on his face. “You heard me.”

“First of all, no I wouldn’t. Secondly, it’s the fact that Eiji would never say that to me that's precisely the reason why I like him. Idiot.”

Denki says something back, but Izuku can’t hear it over Hanta’s laughter. Whatever he says makes Mina stop laughing immediately. She blushes, then sits up to casually glance around the room. The sudden shift in mood gives Izuku a bad feeling. He’s about to ask what they said when Ochako leans over Tsuyu to get his attention.

“Hey, Deku.” She hands him a cup. “Have some water.”

“Oh, thanks!” He’s happy to drink it, though he suspects Ochako gave it to him because she thinks he needs a break from the drink. He doesn’t think he’s drunk, but the way his whole body buzzes in anticipation kind of feels like a high, so it’d be best if he lay off the soju, anyway.

#bkdk #bakudeku #bkdk fic #bakugou katsuki x midoriya izuku #thank you love you #my writing

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reaganingridleys · 2 years

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some breagan headcanons because im bored lol

Reagan was never really the type to get into anybody for looks, after all she’s mostly grown up with older people and it would be exhausting to find someone her type when she doesn’t really know who she is, let alone anybody her damn age. Which leads onto the fact that she had a relationship all the way back in college, however that doesn’t mean it would have been her first and Last (this is a Breagan blog after all lol). She’s more used to getting to know a person rather than having to deal with physical attraction, and it was definitely a bit burdensome to her since she’d used to say she liked someone just because it would give her attention, the same kind of attention she got from the Rafe episode. In the end she knew better than that and decided that she’s better off with someone who is Actually put together, even if that means with herself in the meantime. Which is fine.

Brett takes things at face value. Being made self-aware at a super young age, surrounded by the people that abandoned him later on in life made him understand himself to an unhealthy degree, but when it came to relationships it just made him sad, insecure and anxious because he doesn’t know if he’s making his partners happy enough. He doesn’t know if he’s good enough and it was practically drilled into his brain that he will Never deserve the good things that happen to him. (Fake it ‘til you make it guys, that’s what I do all the time! WOOO! - Brett, definitely)

Brett has callouses in his hands due to weightlifting. Anytime he gets nervous he tends to pick at it until the skin just rrrrips,

Technically canon, but Brett plays guitar. He plays very good guitar.

Reagan’s one of those people that takes pens and disassembles them only to bring them back together later on.

They both have restless hands. They both constantly need to be having their hands on something and when they don’t have Things they have each other, so you could see them holding hands, slapping each other’s, coming up with new handshake combos and Brett braiding her hair, Reagan playing with his tie.

They’re also really affectionate, and touchstarved. They’re not very PDA-y, although they still kiss in front of people and lean against each other but that’s mostly been it (especially because everyone teases them about it.) Surprisingly, in private, Reagan is the one who initiates contact and while it’s on the more, uh, safer side, Brett always asks permission to touch her especially since his touches get soooo Very There and Reagan’s always like (shudders) yes PLEASE and BOOM accidental begging kink lol

Brett is the least suspecting person you would consider horny. But BUTBUTBUT Think About it. Pent up depression and anger? Check. All sense of anxiety and rage all bundled into working out? Literally the STRESS of having to be working at Cognito Inc.? SHEESH this man would be a beast in bed. A very good and patient one too.

Reagan is also pretty much on the same boat as him, she just makes outlets for herself until they no longer work out in her favor. Fortunately for her, if learning to deal with emotions has done anything she could finally express it by having to ride Brett until the both of them are spent to hell and back. They could go for hours because FUCK sleep, man.

They makeout a lot. Like, one kiss isn’t enough it HAS to have gradual kisses.

Brett puts his hand on Reagan’s thigh, keeps it hanging by her hip whenever she’s standing up and he’s sitting down. He loves kissing her scarred hands and knuckles and occasionally steals a kiss from the back of her neck when they walk together.

Reagan likes cuter things, she’s the type to nibble on Brett’s ear, hold pinkies with him as they walk together, or even so much as tuck her face into his neck like a little cat.

#brett head #inside job #breagan #brett hand #reagan ridley

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harfanfare · 3 years

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Pomegranate Rule || Idia Shroud x Reader

Obligatory pair work with someone you like very much on a school project and have a chance to fall for each other more? - cliché.

The difference with Idia was that he kidnapped his project partner.

Idia leaned out from behind the column, whispering words of encouragement and summoning up the plan of this meeting he compiled at yesterday’s evening. He practised this conversation all night in front of the mirror, but as soon as he gained confidence, he forgot the text and desperately searched for the next line in the script.

There was a faint blush on his pale cheeks. Not from the sun, not from the fatigue, but nervousness. He hadn't left his room for someone in a long time, and what he was about to do required from him new social skills...

…to ask you to be his project partner, that’s it.

Ortho stood right next to Idia, leaning out from behind his older brother's silhouette and shifting his gaze once at the courtyard, once at him.

Idia cuffed his fingers on the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

Ortho's presence helped him a lot to keep on the promise he made to himself: today he will actually talk to you not on the phone, but face-to-face and suggest that you could do Sir Crewel’s project together.

He knew that you didn’t have a pair, since Grim went off where he could bug Adeuce combo, and even if he didn’t, you two would be counted as one student. But, to at least make some progress, you were picking up leaves you suspected to be just right for the experiment.

With each bush, you were getting closer and closer to the column behind which Idia was hiding, and he knew that if he won’t hurry with his proposal, someone will enter the square, dispatch the last pieces of Idia's courage and disperse you, and take you away.

For example someone like Epel and Jack, who have just entered the courtyard using the entrance on the opposite side.

This coincidence seemed to Idia to be as unfortunate as if all the forces of the world wanted to stop him from what he was planning and yet to validate his theory that it was not worth ever leave his room. On the other hand, since he was already here, and it took him a good few dozen attempts to motivate himself, he could not lose this unstarted game.

Idia, in an act of desperation, rushed towards you, hoping that the first-graders would not notice you.

You both keel over into the bushes as Jack and Epel headed towards you.

"Jack Howl, Epel Felmier!" Ortho greeted them, distracting all possible attention from the bushes that had just been approached by two people, both unaware of what was going on. "How is your project going? What topic did you choose?”

"Ortho-kun! What are you doing here?” Epel replied, coming closer to the young Shroud.

As Ortho distracted them with a conversation, Idia had an intimidating thought: what would happen if they saw your two in the bushes? He was madly blushing at the scenarios that created in his head. He put his hand on your lips—he was afraid that you would say anything that would attract unwanted attention—he slipped with you through the empty corridors to the dorm of Ignihyde.

…He forgot to explain what he was doing, and it likely looked like him committing a crime, but nothing will happen if he explains everything in his room, right...?

You were able to ask Idia what was he doing, once he closed the doors. Till then, on every question you asked he hissed “Sheesh! Do you want us to be found?!” and “P-please! Let us get to headquarters where I will… explain the mission…”.

Soon enough, you found yourself in his room; electronics was the main source of light, and the screens glowed bright blue around them. Although you didn't see any exposed windows or lamps lit to illuminate the room, everything was clearly visible.

There was a mess there, a mixture of the cardboard disorder that prevails after moving a house and the chaos of a man whose constantly working on something, desk always cluttered with papers, pens and documents.

You were sure you would stand on some lost Lego block or pin if you put your foot behind the bed where Idia has set you down.

“So, Idia,” you started. “…What exactly I am doing in your room?”

"Uh, well...” he stuttered, trying to remember the speech from yesterday's practices. “I wish I would know what you're doing here... I mean- I know why I brought you here. I wanted to ask you something. Ask, yes.”

"Ask? About what?” you didn't mention that you can ask outside of your own room, and you wasn’t going to correct that.

Idia tried to explain the whole situation. He skipped the preparation process, his speeches and ideas, he didn’t even mention the project, so all he said was hard-to-understand, abstract justification from the current situation.

He said, at least, that he came up with the idea to take you somewhere further away, where there were no people, as first-grades entered the courtyard.

“So I'm here by accident?" you asked after listening to Idia, slightly cocking your head at the side. “I don't understand…”

“It was an accident. A bit,” he wanted to loudly groan at his helplessness but finally bit his tongue. “I didn't want you here. I mean, I wanted to, but I didn't plan on it. I mean- Aah, it’s so hard to explain!”

You waited in silence, only nodding, letting him take his time.

"Sorry, I just... I feel weird talking to you...” Idia admitted, lowering his head.

The definition of Idia’s "weirdness" was different from yours.

When you heard that he was calling you strange, you felt a pang in your heart. Really? After so many months of acquaintance and quite frequent texting on the phone, when finally there was one of those few moments when you could talk face-to-face, he says it's awkward?

The "weirdness" of that feeling in Idia was something he could not explain easily: the joy of talking to you, anxiety that he would say something wrong, an uncertainty that you would change your mind and stop talking to him, excitement because he knew how interesting person you are and the frustration for every accurate, teasing comment…

"Oh, I see," you tried not to sound depressing. "So let me leave.”

"No, wait, that's not what I meant..!”

Oh, no. Idia’ plan went downhill again.

Idia jumped to a drawer and started looking for something in it, digging through notebooks, cables and lost items.

“...Don't worry, Idia, we can end this conversation on the phone... or something.”

“No, no, no, wait, please!” discreetly took out a round metal box before he dashed to you, blocking the only way out, heavy equipment surrounding you that now seemed to be an impassable wall.

"Uh?"

He took the hard candy from the container he took from the shelf, though he did it so subtly, forcing himself to stare at you and keep your gaze from tearing away from him, so you couldn’t notice candy in his hand.

They were pomegranate drops that had been presented to him as a funny joke from a student who knew that a box, just like its contents, was enchanted by Vil's unique magic: whoever tasted them will not be able to move more than twenty meters from the place the fruit drop was eaten.

Haha, because you know, the members of Ignihyde don't go outside and won't even notice they were cursed.

Idia was sure that even Vil did not know that the candies had fallen into his hands.

"Huh? What are you-“

As soon as you opened your mouth, Idia pressed fruit drop up to your lips and covered them with his hand, in case you tried to spit it out. His movements became very mechanical and heavy, probably most of his muscles were strained. Because of that, you also couldn't push him away.

He only stepped out of your way you once swallowed the candy.

And so you were bound by a spell that you discovered the moment Idia let you towards the door. You stopped more than a meter from them, unable to even grasp the doorknob.

You swung your hand a few times as if not believing that none of your movements was moving you forward.

“Idia. I know we should talk, but by cutting me off from the door?”

Surprise with this solution, Idia's embarrassed smile, dripping sweat from the stress he felt, and a sudden dose of delicious sugar made you burst into laughter.

“This. Is. Great.” You accented each word, becoming more and more amused with each one as if you had just heard the best joke of the era. “Is it the fault of those drops?”

Idia, surprised by your reaction, finally relaxed. Your sudden, inexplicable outburst, hearty laugh calmed him down a lot. He even came to the conclusion that he really likes the way you laugh.

Ortho soon entered the room. You two shortened the story and explained that you probably have to stay here for the night.

"Oh, so nii-san finally asked you to do a project with him?"

“Project...?” you repeated. Then you turned your head to Idia and smirked at him. “So that was what it was for?”

He answered you with a shrug as if last day Idia didn’t have any thoughts screaming “Project!” and that followed by “[Name]!”.

However, Ortho said it for him.

Idia, of course, tried to stop him, but Ortho knew how much time his brother spent just planning to talk to you. A wave of shame flooded Idia as you listened to Ortho's words with interest. And maybe with a pinch of delight spilling over your heart—Idia did so much for you! You could feel the flush on your face and a smile spread across your lips every time you heard about Idia's efforts.

Soon after, after the excitement of this conversation had died down and you thanked Idia for his planning efforts, a package of cookies and biscuits was opened. You couldn't go to the cafeteria to eat anything, and even ordinary snacks from school vending machines taste better in pleasant company, right?

“We haven't had many opportunities to talk like that, have we?"

You took a sip of the warm tea Idia had made—it was incredibly bitter but chilled enough not to burn your tongue—and watched the screen where Idia was working.

He pushed himself away from writing some codes with some slowness, but he didn't look at you.

“You're right...”

After a pause, he started speaking again, this time in a whisper, but you heard him very clearly.

"I've always admired you, [Name]-shi..." he said, pressing his knees against his chest. “Talking to so many different people and solving their problems... I often find it tedious and self-righteous to interfere in the affairs of others, however…. Everything you do always ends well. I-I couldn't do that.”

“I should be saying it!” You said after a moment of silence as if you were processing words you completely didn't suspect him of. “You deal with electronics like a professional. Wait, you are the professional! How many programming languages have you already mastered? How many devices have you already created? You have a wonderful talent and... even your brother little is proof of it.”

You both looked at Ortho connected to specialized equipment. "CHARGING" was displayed on the screen, and by minutes the numbers were close to 100%.

Idia didn't smile at your words—instead he seemed incredibly focused. With each passing second, he had a more and more sincere expression of pleasant frustration, which was also reflected in his long hair behind which he tried to hide his face.

He couldn't even answer and just nodded.

"And... I have to confess to something," you began after another minute of pleasant silence, which you felt sorry to interrupt. "If you previously seemed quite average to me, maybe even a little pale-faced, now I know that you are special."

These words were already his limit. He couldn't take his eyes off you, forgot how to breathe, forgot how to blink, and his lungs refused to cooperate.

His heart crashed for good after your next words.

"So... if you please," you got up and smiled at him. “Idia Shroud, will you do me this honour and become my project partner?”

"The curse already faded.”

You could reach the door and go to the farthest corners of the room. You could leave.

The project has been completed. With the light help of Ortho, who also wanted to contribute to the project, by two in the morning, you finished doing experiments, writing out data, conclusions and completing them with graphic documentation.

And then you played games for the next three hours; each game was digital and very engaging—it wasn't for Ortho, you and Idia wouldn't fall asleep even for a minute. Even when you went to bed—and there was a whole five-minute debate about where you were going to sleep—you talked in whispers about everything and nothing until one of you fell asleep.

Even if the attachment to Vil's magic was gone, you couldn't deny that you became attached to a certain blue-haired boy who followed the last lines of your conclusions with his golden eyes.

It was really fun.

He and Ortho probably would have done this project faster, but the collaboration of the three—you, Ortho and Idia—seemed so pleasant that if he could, he would do it once again. Even if that meant another research about hyper-difficult projects Crewel liked to torture his students with.

"I will come again," you said as suddenly as if you were reading his mind. He flinched at those words, and your tone of voice changed to a more biting tone. “You don't have to kidnap me this time.”

"I d-didn't..." he tried to deny but was stuck on the next words. “...Really? Will you really come here?”

“Your charm bound me more than candy, I can promise you,” you gave him one last smile before you closed the door behind you and rushed through the corridor with a strange, blissful feeling, looking forward to your next project.

So did he.

#I liked writing it a lot hahah #Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x reader #twst idia #twst idia shroud #twst idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland idia

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ghost-pasta · 3 years

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the ultimate enemy,,, is having trauma with super powers.

I’ve got a steaming hot and spicy dp x spn crossover idea here. it's TUE plot adjacent (but Jazz survives because not enough Jazz in spn crossovers. let her be blunt to the Winchester brothers guys common, she'd totally call 'em out at some point come on)

(yeah but listen, makes no sense that Danny didn't end up in aunt Alicia's custody, legally speaking. so at first i was thinking of a TUE au that diverges from that where he does end up with Aunt Alicia. then someone said "Danny in a flannel vibes" (paraphrasing) and my brain went like: "..... flannels,,,,,,,,, spn crossover vibes........") anyway

- details below the cut -

so basically, Jazz still gets hurt and Danny's with her whenever he can get away with it while she's recovering. (they're all each other got now). and Aunt alicia gets them set up at her house. (first Danny temporarily, then once Jazz is released from hospital, they both move in fully)

Vlad:

- moved to the Fentons home to keep an eye on their portal so it doesn't get taken by the government or something. he's left in a house with remnants of a family he wanted to steal and now it's all gone and he's left gradually working through regrettings and griefs. - Danny initially leaves all his NASA memorabilia there because he's not much in the headspace to care about any of it. but Vlad sends his telescope over. the action being appreciated, maybe more than Danny wants to accept, or more so ever admit to Vlad.

Aunt Alicia (Walker):

notices Danny's kinda "weird" in a supernatural way in the time during Jazz's hospitalization and after. (only so many frozen, glowing, or chard bits of wood one goes through before it's really suspicious.) - (and one exploded tree) Alicia: "how'd that happen? couldn't have been lightning, sky's clear" Danny: "idk, cosmic happenstance i guess" Alicia: "..... alright i guess" - Anyway so they end up taking a trip to visit a good friend of hers that she visits thrice a year (it's bobby singer, they're best friends because i said so) and there's no way she's leaving mentally and emotionally unstable teens at her house when she wants to go - (gonna figure out what's up with Danny. most likely ghost related, but she don't know how. wants to talk it over with bobby to see what he thinks. if Danny's just hiding ghostly powers from “ecto-contamination” or something then that's whatever. but if he's being hurt by these abilities, or if it isn't that at all, she'd like to know. but not letting Danny know she's onto him, having an emotionally unstable traumatized depressed teen get flighty is a terrible idea.)

Jazz:

Danny almost lost her too, on top of his best friends being gone. and her overprotective sibling vibes would skyrocket but Danny's also would so what happens is they're really attached at the hip for a few months. eventually graduating to being on either sides of a room without making either of them nervous. (if one leaves a room tho then there's a little more anxiety until they get back. - Jazz gets lost into studying again, even more than before unless danny needs attention from her. what ends up happening is they're leaning on each other or are generally in each others presence while she studies. Jazz implores danny to get a hobby, or maybe get back into stars and things. he's not really up to much tho, doing chores or errands for aunt Alicia keeps him busy whenever she gives him something to do. - (when Danny first started living with Alicia, she figured chopping wood was good enough therapy for now) - - the first night they settle in (they share a room, but they're clingy enough that it works), Jazz tells Danny she knows. about him and the ghost powers. about it all. and wanted to wait for him to come to her,,, but... and Danny clings to her and they both cry a bit. (a lot) - Jazz suspects Alicia might be onto them but since Alicia hasn't done anything then Jazz will wait until Alicia being onto them feels actually risky.

The Killing Event:

- making it a gas leak explosion instead of a nasty sauce explosion is what I'm going with. (to make it hurt more, them being there to celebrate Danny acing a test rather than talk about him possibly cheating is a thing i can and am doing) - Lancer also survives the event this time. he was Jazz's ride there probably. Lancer is very close to how his students are doing academically, he'd want to congratulate Danny too.) He keeps in touch with Danny through aunt Alicia, as do tuckers parents. - (Sam's parents connect with tuckers parents about it more than with Alicia. they don't blame Danny because that would be cruel, he's just a kid. but they're just less connected to him in general. they knew him as Sam's problem friend before.)

And That’s It! (like, for interacting with the Winchester brothers (+an angel) I've just got a vague sense of shenanigans and Danny hating Crowley.) (I think I’ll put other fun ideas I like putting in spn crossovers. like Danny kinda seeing Castiel’s wings past his vessel. and Cas being able to tell Danny’s soul is attached to his body like it’s supposed to be,,,,, but in a super weird way. think “what the soul doin?” but in the voice of (”what the dog doin?”)) (on Danny hating Crowley, in this i feel like all Crowley would have to do is show up and Danny has animosity at first sight. at first vibe presence)

#danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #aunt alicia #alicia walker #tue #dp xover #supernatural #dp x spn #my thoughts #tue adjacent

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crippledpunks · 3 years

Note

Could you do a post on what fibro is and what signs someone should look for if they suspect they have it? I don’t know much about firbo other than Google’s vague symptom list. I would rather hear it from someone who has it anyways. Hope you have a great day!

thank you for coming to me, i appreciate it! i really do!

fibro is a difficult thing to figure out if you have or not- when asking your doctors about it, they try to rule out everything else it could possibly be first before considering fibro. doctors will test for things like lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, other kinds of arthritis, sleep apnea, narcolepsy, and many other things.

finally when all these things are ruled out, you're considered for the fibromyalgia diagnosis. i received mine in 2016, after doing a lot of tests. i knew i had it from the start, because the symptoms are so specific. not everyone has access to all of this medical care, and i know a lot of you don't have the time to go through all of this testing for a clinical diagnosis.

if you suspect you may have fibromyalgia, these are the most important symptoms to consider:

1.) overall, widespread pain and tender points on your body. people with fibro experience an overall, widespread pain that can't be explained by anything else, however, we also experience specific tender points. these are points on specific points of your body that are painful to the touch, and often ambiently radiate pain outward into the surrounding areas. it's the skin, muscle, and other tissues that are in pain, not the joints, but they can cause pain to radiate into the joint areas.

here is a diagram of where these points are on the body:

you don't have to experience all of them. i personally experience most of them.

2.) fatigue that can't be explained by something else, that is persistent, and doesn't improve with sleep. not feeling rested after sleep was what lead me to seek care, because no matter how much i improved my sleep hygiene, my fatigue never lessened or went away. i even got tested for sleep apnea, and that came back negative.

3.) "brain fog", also known as "fibro fog". this is exactly what it sounds like- an extreme fogginess in your cognition that makes it difficult to function. i was experiencing this fog very badly when i was first seeking diagnosis. it comes and goes, some days i feel better, other days it's like my head is full of cotton, or like someone is in there running a fog machine.

4.) chronic migraines and consistent headaches that usually don't improve with sleep and often highly resistant to medication. i have a low- to mid-grade headache every single day. migraines are extremely common with me, even on days where, again, i've slept well. these headaches are crippling and always have been. i've been medicated for migraines since i was 15 years old.

5.) restless legs, joint stiffness, morning stiffness, and swelling and tingling in the hands and feet and aren't explained by anything else. the random swelling and tingling in my hands and feet used to stress me out because i was afraid it was related to my heart, but it's always completely random and goes away pretty abruptly.

fibromyalgia is also highly co-morbid with conditions such as post traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, depression, chronic fatigue syndrome, irritable bowel syndrome, and postural tachycardia syndrome.

i hope this was what you were looking for!

#fibromyalgia #actually disabled #fibromyalgia culture #fibro #fibro fog #fibro pain #fibro warrior #cripple punk #asks #answers

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robin-the-enby · 2 years

Text

Two birds on a wire

Pairing: Tokoyami Fumikage x reader

Summary: You've been struggling for a long time. And every time the nasty thoughts return, it's as bad as before, if not worse. Luckilly, Tokoyami is your grounding rock, but...How long would he continue to be there?

Warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts, abadonment issues, intrusive thoughts (I think, let me know if there's anything else)

A/N: This is based on the song "Two birds" by Regina Spektor. I've tried like 4 times to write this and every time it has left me emotionally drained, but it still wasn't what I wanted. So here I go again. Hopefully for the last time...

Two birds on a wire One tries to fly away And the other Watches him close from that wire He says he wants to as well But he is a liar

You couldn't imagine that this would be the rest of your life. You suspected you were depressed since you were, how old, twelve? The unbearable waves of sadness that left you on the floor like a miserable heap of meat were a good enough piece of evidence. But you had to wait nearly four years for your parents to admit that there was something wrong. Four miserable years before you got a diagnose.

It wasn't anything spectacular, you told yourself. Just depression and anxiety. You were sure that more than half of the population had experienced it at this point. You thought that after convincing your parents to let you get treatement everything would get better. That you would get rid of the monster that loomed over your head, tantalizing you and striking when you least expected it.

But it had only gotten worse.

I'll believe it all There's nothing I won't understand I'll believe it all I won't let go of your hand

You felt like you couldn't complain too much tho. Sure, your parents showed clear signs of emotional neglect towards you, but hey, it could've been worse right? They weren't perfect, but they tried. And they loved you. Maybe not in a way you might have needed, but it was something.

Your friends were caring too. They asked you how you were and always let you know that they're there for you. Even those who didn't talk to you that much. And in return, they showed you their trust by confiding in you.

So why did you still want to leave them all so badly?

Two birds on a wire One says c'mon And the other says I'm tired

When it came to you and Tokoyami, you didn't know who approached who first. Maybe it was Dark shadow that brought you together for all you knew. But you were grateful for him. You felt like you could truly be yourself around him. Your relationship was that of a kind, where you didn't need to hide anything from each other or be scared of what the other might think. He was the kind of guy who appreciated everything strange and well, you had many of strange traits and thoughts to supply him with.

Whatever strange idea for a date you had, he went along with it. You wanted to dance in the rain? Count him in. You wanted to go yell at the full moon? Sure. Go to the deepest, darkest part of the forest to look for faeries? Sign him up. He loved your dreamy nature, the way you were so aligned with nature and so in awe of the same things that he was.

The sky is overcast And I'm sorry One more or one less Nobody's worried

Of course, you both had your fair share of pain to shoulder. But together, your burdens felt just a tad lighter. His pro hero work left him scarred, because not every time he could save everyone and he always beat himself up over every lost innocent person. You suspected every hero did that. But still, he only became better and better with time. He worked on himself every day, trying to be better than the day before and you admired him for that.

But you? Well, you were kind of lost. Sometimes life was good and sometimes it was shit. But Tokoyami always stayed with you, devoted as much time to you as he could. His patience was something you admired as well. And yet, you felt stuck. You didn't feel like you were moving anywhere. Sure, you were doing what you loved for a living, but you weren't...growing. Truth to be told, you still felt trapped by your emotions as if you were still twelve.

And now, when you were an adult, you still didn't have anything figured out. And you couldn't figure anything out. Because you didn't have the time to focus on yourself, to truly think about your life. For a while you convinced yourself that it was good that you didn't have any time to think, because whenever you did, it always ended up bad for you.

I'll believe it all There's nothing I won't understand I'll believe it all I won't let go of your hand

You tried your damn best to stay functioning. But whenever there wan't anything to do, you could feel the heavy thoughts and feelings creeping up on you and suddenly you felt as if you were walking on thin ice. One bad move and the ground beneath you would collapse and you'd be thrown into the cold water with no bottom.

You felt helpless. First it affected your sleep schedule. You lay beside unaware Tokoyami, who was out cold basically as soon as his head hit the pillow, while you contemplated your importance in this world. It baffled you, really. After all the years you've dealt with depression you would think that it wouldn't phase you so much and yet anytime you would have an episode, it seemed worse than the one before.

It wasn't long before Tokoyami started noticing the dark bags under your eyes. He knew of your struggles, nearly as much as you yourself. So there was no point in hiding it from him. You told him you're very probably entering another episode and he was understanding as always. Oh how you admired him. After all the times you've fallen down, he pulled you back up. Tokoyami assured you that you could talk to him whenever you wanted to, that he was there for you.

My light, he called you. You weren't so sure about that. More like his burden. Did you really deserve such an amazing guy like Tokoyami? The always composed and serious, but caring and understanding guy that never treated a soul wrong? You were seriously starting to doubt it.

Two birds of a feather Say that they're always gonna stay together But one's never going to let go of that wire He says that he will But he's just a liar

"Can I talk to you?" you asked your boyfriend. Ashamed. That's how you felt and you knew he saw it on your face as well. Still, he faced you with a smile and you felt a sudden wave of irritation course through you.

"Of course my light." Tokoyami said, patting the spot beside him on the couch. You slowly walked over, still trying to figure out why did you feel so annoyed all of a sudden. Sensing your hesitation, Tokoyami started "Is it bad?" You could only nod. He sighed "I've noticed it. You can always talk to me about these things, but you know that, don't you?" You nodded again and finally spoke up "I know. And I appreciate everything you do for me, it's just..." Tokoyami perked up at that, his attention on you and you only. "I guess I feel guilty. You do so much for me Fumi. And I feel like I'm...not doing...anything, really. I try to be there for you as much as I can, but no matter what I do, it doesn't outweigh the times you had to be there for me. It feels like I need someone's help constantly, like a small kid. It just feels so wrong that I can't take care of myself." you stopped. Tokoyami frowned "Darling...Just because I don't need as much help as you do does not make you any less of a good partner to me." he said, trying to reassure you.

Two birds on a wire One tries to fly away And the other Watches him close from that wire He says he wants to as well But he is a liar

"I know! I know all that! But I don't feel like that! I'm so scared Fumi..." you mewled. He looked at you with worry, his eyes holding a question he didn't even need to ask you, before your mouth opened again "You are so incredible, you do so much for so many and I...I feel like a leech. I feel so selfish and helpless. And the worst part is I don't know what to do about it! And I'm terrified that one day you and everyone around me will one day realize just how much I hold you back and you all will just...leave."

Tokoyami frowned, deep in thought. He understood your fear, it wasn't irrational at all. And that was scary. Because he didn't know how to comfort you. "That won't happen (Y/N). Even if everyone else left, I would stay by your side. Because you know what? This all will pass and you'll be fine again." he raised his hand to shush you when he saw you wanted to protest "Because any time I see your beautiful smile, plus if it's directed at me, I...I realize it's worth it. Every second I spend worrying about you is worth it. Just keep smiling at me, for me, hell keep smiling for no reason at nothing in particular and it'll be worth it the same amount. Because I love you my light."

Two birds on a wire One tries to fly away And the other...

Such a confession was rare for this broody man, but you appreciated it. Even if you couldn't show it right now. Even if you weren't entirely convinced and probably would never be. But he was here right now, you realized as he lovingly pressed his forehead to the side of your head. And so you decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #mha #mha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #tokoyami fumikage

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starscreamloki · 3 years

Text

Follow the Blind

Chapter Sixteen

Warnings: Whump, torture, angst, Loki is a mess, panic attacks, mentions of suicide, depression, violence, PTSD.

Words: 8630

Summary: (Loki’s POV, Third POV, Loki centered) Loki falls from the Bifrost, but instead of landing in Thanos’ clutches, he lands on earth and falls into the hands HYDRA. Years later the Avengers stumble across him and decide to take him in.

A/N: Yes, it’s been an eternity since I updated this fic. Sorry, but not sorry. Hope you still enjoy it anyway. :-)

Previous chapter

----

“Come on, Loki, we've got a surprise for you!” Steve said enthusiastically.

Every muscle in his body pulled taut, and warily he sought out the other man with his energy reading. A ‘surprise’ according to them didn’t necessarily mean a surprise he’d like. HYDRA had sometimes used that excuse as well and the ending had only been painful for him.

“We’re not gonna hurt you. Come on,” Steve urged, but his tone indicated he had caught the wariness Loki felt.

“Tell me, what is this surprise?” Loki asked, anxiety already nipping at his ankles.

“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”

“In that regard I shall decline your offer.”

A sigh escaped the other. “If you don’t like it, you’re free to leave. Otherwise I’m asking you to trust us.”

“Free to leave the scene, or free to leave altogether?” Loki asked.

“You are free to leave altogether, but you know how that went last time.”

Loki flinched, the memories burned all too well in his mind. Yet, the other didn’t deny him his freedom, but it still felt as if he couldn’t leave if he desired so. Was that due to them, or were these shackles of his own making?

“Just… have a little faith and give us a chance,” Steve pushed, sounding tired. “It’ll be me and Clint.”

Take a leap of faith.

Was this to be his new mantra?

All the possible outcomes of this surprise flitted through Loki’s mind, most of them rather nefarious. Yet, he couldn’t deny he was curious and could use a change of scenery.

The passed days had become quite a drag and had come and gone without Loki truly noticing. Not much eventful had happened. Sometimes Natasha came to collect him for training. Bucky stopped by to silently watch TV in his room (Loki suspected the Shadow needed an escape of some sorts from time to time). And the others regularly came to check upon him, or bring him food. Other than that, nothing happened. Nobody pressed him. Nobody forced him.

Nothing.

He also began to believe that these Humans, Avengers as they called themselves, maybe weren’t part of HYDRA. Yet, he still wasn’t sure, but the evidence began to speak in their favour.

Loki would've gone mad due to sheer boredom, hadn't it been for his special books. Tony had received and set up the printer, and Loki was devouring books as if he had to catch up. Which he, obviously, had.

When Loki didn’t give an indication he was coming along, Steve decided to meet him halfway. “When was the last time you went outside?”

For a heartbeat Loki was silent until he reluctantly admitted, “I cannot remember.”

“We can, and it has been weeks. Come on.”

Loki could feel his anxiety rising, but he unfolded himself from the couch anyway, pushing past his fears. Tautly he nodded - an indication as good as any he would join.

“Put on something warm,” Steve advised.

With his brows furrowed, Loki complied nonetheless, magicking a fur cloak.

Steve made a small sound of surprise. “It’s actually pretty amazing you can do that.”

Loki shrugged.

They made their way down the hallway and into the elevator which brought them to ground level and they arrived in the foyer of the building.

It was just like he remembered, when he had tried to escape the first time. The place was teeming with people, and many of these people greeted them. Well, they mostly greeted Steve, calling him Captain, but Loki could feel their greetings extended to him as well.

Nervousness was eating him alive and, hidden between his back and cloak, he was fumbling with his hands.

Then they were outside, and after a couple of steps Loki could hear something crunch beneath his boots. The moment he stopped dead in his tracks to investigate, something hit his chest, shattering on impact and cold briefly graced his jaw.

“Clint!” Steve exclaimed chastisting.

Loki’s heart was suddenly racing, the anxious beast prowling its cage, but reason overruled fear. It was obvious what had hit him, and the Humans didn’t know what they were in for.

He sought out Clint’s form, his face a feigned mix of fear and anger. The ruse worked.

“Shit,” Clint mumbled and he began to backpaddle. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have done that. Please, don-”

His pleading got interrupted as something hit him in the back and a mischievous smile curled Loki’s lips.

Clint’s aura showed confusion, but it quickly turned to resolve, mixed with mirth and anticipation.

Before Loki was well aware, snowballs were flying through the air.

For all his blindness, his aim wasn’t off, and neither was his ability to dodge the frosted missiles. But Loki wasn’t playing fair, and Clint and Steve kept reminding him of that. The Humans were limited to using their hands, but Loki could create dozens at the time with his magic, drawing fake complaints from them. They were pretty apt at dodging his snowballs themselves.

For the first time in years, Loki laughed. Genuinely, mirthful, mischievous and for a moment, free of sorrow.

***

Worn down, Loki sat on the couch of his cell. It had become his new favorite spot instead of his bed. It reminded him of a luxurious sofa he had once owned when living on Asgard. Any other memories regarding the matter were vague.

After his snowball fight with Clint and Steve, they had something called hot cocoa. It reminded him of the delicious, sweet chocolate paste they brought him once in a while. And the sweet, soft topping had been nothing short of a delight which perfectly matched the hot beverage.

Now he was tired, but it didn’t tarnish the happiness he felt.

It had been a nice surprise indeed.

There was a knock on his door, followed by someone opening it. “Loki?” Sam asked.

“Yes?” He sounded more agitated than he felt.

“Do you need anything?”

Loki shook his head. He just wanted to sleep.

Normally when he was asked if he needed something and he denied them, they’d swiftly leave, but this time Sam lingered in the doorway. It was aggravating and Loki’s exhaustion made him snap. “What?”

“I uh- haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I have never seen you before,” Loki countered without thought.

“Yeah…” Sam trailed, obviously put off. “Can we talk?”

Loki shrugged. He wasn’t particularly happy to do so, but he was too tired to put up a futile fight over such a small matter.

Sam stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“Look, I’m sorry I lost sight of you. I never should have left you alone.”

“As my appointed guardian, you failed your job indeed,” Loki pointed out.

“I know,” Sam admitted softly.

Loki’s head whipped into the man’s direction, his blind eyes squeezed to slits with suspicion. “Riddle me this,” he began mistrustfully. “You claim you are not HYDRA, and this might be true. But if you were my appointed guardian, then how does this not make you HYDRA?”

There was a moment of silence before Sam answered, sounding small. “Steve asked me to keep an eye on you when you left.”

“So my supposed given freedom was a lie after all,” Loki bit nasty.

“No, not like that!” Sam exclaimed urgently. “You were, are, free. But the Avengers just simply asked me to keep an eye on you to see if you could get by on your own considering what happened the time before that. Just to keep you from trouble and I-” Sam took a sharp intake of breath, “-I failed you.”

Anger, suspicion, disbelief, scorn; Loki didn’t know what he exactly felt, but everything about this revelation was fishy.

If Sam wasn’t HYDRA, and had done as the Avengers had asked, they never had truly set him free. If Sam was HYDRA, he had done exactly what he was supposed to, and his mission wasn’t finished yet (or had changed course), meaning Loki still wasn’t out of the woods. What if the Avengers were true, but Sam was HYDRA and tried to infiltrate?

There was a lie somewhere caught in this reasoning, but he had trouble pinpointing it. Blame it on his tiredness or something else, Loki knew not. But he knew one thing: he was furious.

The door opened once more, and Loki could feel Steve entering. He didn’t know whether he was saved from Sam, or if Sam got saved from him, but the tension was tangible enough that Steve noticed immediately. “Everything okay?”

“I should leave,” Sam mumbled.

“You should,” Loki snidely agreed.

When Sam passed Steve, Loki could see the auras of both men flash and clash, something unspoken and unseen passing between them.

Steve lingered for another couple of seconds, not saying a word, before he left as well.

***

“You did what!” Steve exclaimed.

Sam had just told him what had passed between him and Loki, and defensively he said, “I wasn’t gonna lie to him!”

“No, but we can’t afford this setback either!” Steve was extremely displeased, if not downright pissed off.

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry. It’s just-” Sam lifted and dropped one shoulder. “-He kinda scares me. He’s changed so much and he’s no longer the broken man I remember. Which is good, but it… He’s powerful, and you know it. He’s Thor’s brother and therefore a God or Demigod or whatever, and that’s frightening.”

Sam wasn’t one to be fearful quickly. Steve had seen him many times dive head on into situations which were less than favorable for them, but he understood where the fear came from. Diving towards one’s death was one thing, but Loki’s twisted mind, severely damaged by HYDRA, was another. HYDRA had shown that there were worse things than death. Who knew what tricks Loki would pull?

Bucky hadn’t been free from HYDRA’s grasp either, so why would Loki be?

When Steve spoke, he was calmer than before. “Yes, and he’s going to be more frightening if we shame his trust, lie to him, and pull stunts like these.”

“Oh, so you were going to tell him?” Sam asked, peeved.

“Eventually, yes. When the time was right.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t think there’d ever be a right time.”

“Maybe…” Steve trailed and then he sighed. “Fine, what happened, happened. We just have to pick up the broken pieces again.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

Steve nodded. “I know you are, and you’re forgiven, of course.”

***

“Loki, you're distracted,” Natasha said as she booped his nose after breaking through his defences.

He didn't like the playful touch, but he was grateful she hadn't punched him instead.

“I have had enough,” Loki retorted roughly and magicked his weapons away.

Before he could turn to leave, she grabbed his arm to halt him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Unhand me,” he replied calmly, but his anxiety was already rising.

She did as he demanded, but her aura made it clear she wasn't ready with this conversation, yet. “Loki, if something is bothering you, you can share it with us. You know that, right?”

“Can I?” he asked rhetorically.

“You still don't trust us?”

“You once again ask a question to which you well know the answer.”

“If not, then why do you train with me?” she asked, walking to the side of the room to fetch their water bottles.

Loki was grateful for the space she created between them. His anxiety didn’t worsen, but it didn’t lessen either. After trying to swallow the lump in his throat, he shrugged and answered, “There is a difference between you, and them.”

The gratification in Natasha’s aura was almost tangible, and Loki was quick to temper her mirth. “Do not flatter yourself. You are, just like them, still one of my captors.”

“Ah, but you trust me more than the others.”

Normally Loki’s former statement would have evoked a discussion or a rise out of one of these Humans. They would insist he wasn’t their prisoner, but Natasha let it slide (this time). In favor of what? Loki wondered. Conversation?

“I would say it is not a matter of trust,” he retorted, sounding slightly haughty.

Resignation quickly replaced the joy in her aura, and it was a good thing Loki was used to her throwing the bottle without warning. He was perfectly able to catch it, even though her throw had been harsher than normal.

Even more so, with his energy reading - which was now fully enhanced by his Seidr - he could easily discern the energy of the water, and even the minor amount of energy in the plastic.

“Still there’s something on your mind,” she pressed.

Loki unscrewed the cap of his bottle and took a sip. “Am I obliged to share?”

Natasha sighed exasperated. “How many more times do I have to tell you we’re not going to force you to answer.”

A little smile played on his lips. “At least once more, Milady Natasha. As always.”

And probably a thousand times more, but he held his tongue. He wasn’t sure if she would catch the reference, but it was definitely time Bucky would start watching TV in his own room. Or cell. Or whatever it was to him.

Natasha didn’t answer and thus Loki pressed. “Let me ask you the same question in return. Do you trust me?” Natasha’s aura shifted, but she didn’t respond immediately, thus Loki said, “Precisely, you do not.”

“You didn’t even give me the time to answer that,” she said calmly, but Loki caught the annoyance in her voice.

“You did not answer immediately because you doubted the truth of the confirmation you were about to give.”

“Well, I do trust you.”

“But you truly do not,” Loki stated with a wry smile. “Do not lie to me, Natasha. If I am not allowed to lie, then neither are you.”

Suddenly Natasha’s aura shifted to confusion, and the confusement bled through in her voice. “Who said you aren’t allowed to lie? You are, after all, the God of Lies.”

That statement - the title he had once borne - made him inhale sharply and he was unable to keep the frustration and sadness he felt regarding the matter from his face.

The door to their training room opened and Loki recognized the Shadow’s aura. Yet, Natasha distracted him with her sharp wits, and even though the window of opportunity was small, she took it nonetheless. “You don’t believe that anymore, do you?”

Loki didn’t answer.

She had him cornered with her words, not to mention he was doubting to speak up with Bucky in the room.

“When was the last time you told a lie, Loki?” she pressed.

His teeth clamped down on each other, the crease between his brows one of frustration and anger. He wanted to snap.

He shouldn’t.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had lied. He had done it so often in the past that it had become a subconscious action. HYDRA had well beaten it out of him, and now he couldn’t even remember what his last lie had been.

Doubt filled him to the core, and instead of using words at which he should be so apt to answer, Loki chose to walk away.

***

The reason for Loki’s distraction during his training session with Natasha had been because his mind was occupied with the creation of a new spell.

He still hadn’t made peace with his blindness, and he doubted if he ever would. But he suspected he would be forced to if he failed.

Tony had given him an option to read, and next to reading for entertainment, Loki had also been doing research. Every book that even had a shrapnel of information about witchcraft was printed and devoured.

He didn’t make notes because he couldn’t, but luckily he needn’t either. If he wanted, J.A.R.V.I.S. could probably note whatever he was saying and print it for later reference, but Loki didn't trust the A.I., nor any of these people for that matter.

Yesterday, Sam had proven that once again.

Now that a Soulforge wasn’t an option, he was trying to fabricate a spell to cure his blindness. And his knowledge about a Soulforge and its mechanics, combined with his knowledge about Seidr, should suffice and prove fruitful.

Still, he was a long way from his attempt.

The base of the spell was built upon a blindness spell - a simple piece of magic in and on itself. It would be as simple (and complicated) as just reversing the mechanics. Yet, a blindness hex was often temporary and this one had to last for thousands of years.

Thus, after he had taken a shower, he set to work again, making mental notes and rereading some passages in his books.

And so the days drifted by in the same drag as before.

Yet, the beast of anxiety seemed to shrink. Vivid memories that once haunted and taunted him on an hourly basis, hadn’t tormented him for days, save for the occasional feeling, sound or smell he couldn’t place.

Loki also found that he was slightly happier, and the moments where he felt lethargic were shorter opposed to days on end as once had been the case.

Maybe, just maybe, these Avengers weren’t part of HYDRA and maybe they truly just wanted to help him.

***

“Sir, you are expected in the common room,” J.A.R.V.I.S. suddenly piped up.

“Expected?” Loki asked, his eyebrows inched towards his hairline.

“Yes. I’m afraid it’s mandatory.”

Loki was silent, clenching his jaw. “I was under the assumption I am free in my decisions.”

“You are. But it’s Christmas, a non-negotiable social obligation.”

Every muscle in his body suddenly pulled taut, his breathing shallow and the beast of anxiety immediately escaped its cage. A dread almost akin to despair, settled in his stomach and it made him nauseous.

“I believe it is known to you as Yule,” J.A.R.V.I.S. added.

“I am familiar with Christmas,” Loki grated out between clenched teeth, his voice wavering. “Non-negotiable or not, I decline.”

“They’re quite hellbent on celebrating it with you, and they already feared you’d decline. Therefore they instructed me to tell you that if you don’t come to them, they’ll come to you. And in my opinion, Sir, your room is too small for such a crowd.”

The Norns be damned, Loki thought bitterly. There was no way he would get off the hook.

He could stubbornly ignore it, magically seal his door and deny them access, but he had a feeling it would come back to him. No. It was better to meet them on his terms - if he had any say in that matter.

“Fifteen minutes,” he mumbled, ending the discussion which was actually an extortion.

Loki used his fifteen minutes to calm himself down and he tried to batter the anxiety back in its cage. He managed, marginally. At least he wasn’t nauseous anymore.

Also, he performed a series of quick spells. Nothing grand, but some basic protection and warding hexes. If needed, he would be protected for some time without having drained himself in advance for a possible fight.

Once he felt he could move without shaking or throwing up, he walked to the door, but J.A.R.V.I.S. stopped him dead in his tracks. “Uhm, Sir. I hate to break it. But it’s Midgardian custom to dress nicely for this celebration.”

Loki was perplexed. “What?”

“Well, not everyone agrees with this tradition, and even though all the Avengers said they wouldn’t dress fancy, all of them still donned their best attires.”

It made sense. None of them had ever complained about what he was and wasn’t wearing, but as far as he knew, Christmas was a celebration nonetheless.

The request reminded him of grand feasts and celebrations on Asgard, from which there was one almost every week. Loki had owned dozens of outfits for every occasion imaginable and looking your best - especially if you were a Prince - was expected.

Melancholically, Loki lost himself in the memories of what once had been. But the request simultaneously evoked excitement. He longed to wear something nice instead of this simple, itchy shirt and trousers.

Would he be able to regain a shred of his former self or feel some joy if he wore a nice attire? There was only one way to find out, and it took (once again) a leap of faith.

With his Seidr he magicked a different attire; a green tunic decorated with golden details at the hem of the sleeves and neck. On top of that a sleeveless, leather black coat which came to his knees, decorated with intricate plaitings, some golden details on the rims and a golden buckle to fasten it. And to finish it off, green trousers tucked into black, calf-high, leather boots.

It wasn’t as fancy as he could magic or as he once had owned, but he was sure this looked good without the ability to see himself in a mirror.

And it felt good.

Still anxious, but with the smallest of smiles on his lips, he opened the door, and this time he wasn’t stopped. A strange feeling of excitement mixed with pure dread swiveled through him as he made his way to the desired room.

Once he reached the destined floor and the elevator doors slit open, he was met with a very sweet scent. Loki opened the door to the common room and the scent of pine-trees got added to it, assaulting his nose trills.

Pinetrees…

A memory tried to take root, but Tony demanded his attention, leaving him with only the feeling of the memory.

“Loki!” he exclaimed happily. “Looking sharp. Glad you're here.”

“I did not have a choice in the matter,” he retorted smally, the nail of his thumb running over the pad of his index finger. He could feel goosebumps running over his spine.

His senses were running in overdrive. Every person in the room, every little speck of dust that so much as moved, he could sense it. Small conversations between the attendants all reached his ears and were quickly processed and assessed to determine if someone was a threat. And that sweet taste that was heavily in this room had already settled on his tongue.

There weren't a lot of people present in regard to the huge festivity J.A.R.V.I.S. had made it sound. Just… All of his tormentors. Not even a plus one.

“Yeah. But we're glad to have you. There's a buffet over there,” the man rambled, indicating something Loki couldn't see. “Have anything you like. Steve made some eggnog, there's punch too, but be careful with that one. Natasha made it. It ah- It packs quite a punch.” Tony chuckled.

“Hey!” Natasha exclaimed peeved, but she left it at that.

“I swear, there's an entire bottle of vodka in there,” Tony whispered loudly and giggled.

Loki forced a small smile and before he could check himself he quipped, “And by the smell of your breath, you do not seem to mind.”

It hadn't been an amusing remark, but Tony laughed as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Definitely drunk, or well on his way.

Loki could feel that Bucky made their way to them, and once he had joined he said, “Well, Tony. Maybe you could fetch me a glass.”

Apparently he wasn’t the only one on high alert.

Tony scuffed away, mumbling something intangible to do as Bucky had suggested.

“Figured you needed saving. He's been at it since noon,” Bucky explained without having been asked.

Loki nodded, his tongue glued to his pallette and he couldn't suppress a shudder or two.

Then, just as quick as the other had joined, Bucky was gone.

Loki didn't want to do anything more than leave, and he debated with himself what would be a proper amount of time to stay to satisfy them, but short enough for him to not go crazy. Thirty minutes? An hour?

Sadly, his idea got shattered and the man at the top of the hierarchy rounded everyone up in the seating area for gift exchange.

This wasn't going to be done within an hour, Loki suspected.

Tony had quite a mind about how he wanted to go about this - he would give the first gift, and the receiver would open it. Then that person would grab the next gift and give it to the person it was intended for, who would unwrap it, and so on.

Natasha came up next to Loki, pushing a plate with food and cutlery on his lap, and a glass with something in his hand.

However, Loki wasn't hungry at all. His anxiety made sure of that and the smell of food on top of the sweet scent which lingered in the room made him nauseous again. The drink, however, smelled sweet and alluring and he dared a sip. Yet, his body disagreed and he could feel his stomach churning.

Conversation and laughter piped up around him, gifts getting exchanged, but he was hardly paying attention, let alone joining a conversation. This really wasn’t the occasion for him to be mirthful and enjoy.

“Loki!”

He snapped out of his mulling as someone happily exclaimed his name.

“This one's for you,” Bruce said, walking to him and handing over the item while someone pulled the plate from his lap.

Loki was unable to keep the shock he felt from his face. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t… he wouldn’t-

“What? You thought we wouldn’t get you any presents?” Tony asked jokingly. “There’s more than one.”

Within a heartbeat Loki could feel all color drain from his face, the gift shaking in his hands as it was beyond his control.

“Come on, open it,” Clint urged.

With trembling hands Loki found a ribbon to undo, and he felt around for the opening of the package. He found a lid. After taking a deep breath and expecting the worst, he opened it.

Tears were biting the back of his eyes and he could feel bile rise in the back of his throat. Carefully he stuck his hand into the box to free its contents - something soft and obviously made from fabric graced his fingers.

“Well? What is it?” Clint asked impatiently.

Words failed to get past Loki’s constricted throat, fear eating him alive and almost enabling him to take the content out.

“Oh, that’s a nice coat,” Bruce said as Loki held up the item, willing his hands to stop trembling, but utterly failing at it.

“Yeah. Figured he could use one to blend in more. Instead of a cloak,” Steve remarked, betraying the gift was his.

“I do not want this,” Loki said with a creaking voice, barely able to get the words out.

“Ungrateful much,” Clint mumbled softly.

The remark made Loki flinch.

“Why not?” someone asked.

Simultaneously, Steve said, “Because you hadn’t expected it and didn’t get any of us something? That’s okay.”

“I- I-” Loki hackled, trying to swallow the bile and bite the tears back.

His ears were ringing and his entire being screamed to flee. It didn’t matter where, which direction, or how, and he simultaneously longed for the chair in which he was seated to swallow him whole.

“If you wish to return a favor, I’d like some extra training with you some time,” Natasha offered.

The idea to exchange for a service instead of a touchable gift got quickly picked up by the others, and like a spreading wildfire the Humans listed favors they would like in return.

“I’d love to have you by my side in the lab for half a day,” said Tony.

“Another shot at proving myself to you,” offered Sam.

“A story,” Clint said pointedly.

“Story?�� asked Natasha.

Clint directed his attention to Loki. “You’re a thousand years old, you must have good stories. And I'm willing to listen.”

“Oh, I’d like a story too,” Bruce said enthusiastically.

The entire conversation had gone so fast, Loki’s mind was spinning. He was scared due to reasons they couldn’t phantom and he was shaking heavily, shivers running over his spine continuously. He was also angry, confused, and downright at a loss.

Their attention had settled on him, he could feel it, and they obviously expected a story right here and now.

Loki could only think of one.

When he wanted to speak, his voice skipped, a pathetic sound resonating in the back of his throat. But nobody pressed him, nobody seemed to mind, and after he had swallowed a couple of times (the lump was far from gone, but the bile had stopped burning his throat) and he had bit back his tears to a point where they wouldn’t fall after the first word, he was able to begin his story, albeit it was with a cracked voice.

“I am familiar with the exchange of gift giving on this holiday. HYDRA did it too.” He paused to swallow and he took a deep breath to muster up some courage. “Three times they celebrated as well, involving me.”

“Three? It’s annually. You were there for five years,” Clint pointed out.

Loki flinched. From what he understood Clint more often spoke before he had thought about his words and its effects.

Natasha was there to save him from an explanation, though it scared him how she knew. “They keep their prisoners off balance by not conforming to the rhythms of night and day. Two days may pass, and a prisoner might think it’s been only half a day, never seeing daylight, never giving an indication of the time. If they’d done it every year, it would give an indication of time.”

“Correct.” Loki nodded, feeling, and sounding, ridiculously small. “The first time it was Christmas, they notified me in what I assumed was the morning. They promised me, in the spirits of this festivity, that I would get a gift at the end of the day if I…” His blind eyes went down to his lap and he tried to breathe. He hated this word, but there was no other way to describe it. “-behaved. They had promised me a hot shower as a gift, opposed to an icy hose down as usual.”

Loki could feel how he was the center of attention, their auras riddled with curiosity pressing down on him. It frightened him. Still, he pressed on. “And thus I did comply with their demands. I cannot remember what they did that day, or maybe I can. Maybe it’s a memory from another time. I know not.”

The words tumbled from his lips, and Loki found he was distancing himself from the story as if he hadn’t been the subject. It made his voice waver less, and the shaking began to diminish as well, but in exchange his voice had gone almost monotone, save for a hint of sadness.

“They were true to their word, and after they were done with-” He shook his head and didn’t elaborate. A faint memory of agony flashed through his mind, but it was only the feeling of pain which truly stuck.

“Eventually they took me to the tiled area. They warned me it could be cold at first, but it would change. Of course, the water hurt my eyes, the acid which they administered earlier, activating. But they hadn’t lied. The water got warmer, indeed, and for a moment it felt nice. Yet, it didn’t stop there, and soon the water had reached a boiling point which burned my skin.

“Extremely fast healing has its perks, but I had discovered far sooner that it also had its downside. In this case as well, especially since they were interested in the workings of it.”

He took a steading breath and he could hear Clint swear under his breath. Loki still had their full attention, but where their auras had been filled with mirthful curiosity, it had now turned to horrific curiosity.

“The second time they promised me food. By then I knew better from the previous time, but I also remember I had not been given anything to eat in quite some time. Meals were always erratic, but they had starved me quite effectively. I was hungry and it hampered with the shred of strength I had left. Thus I, foolishly, complied again.”

“Let me guess, you didn’t get any food?” Tony asked sourly, his voice betraying he probably didn’t want to hear the answer.

“Oh, I did. An entire buffet at that. If only the food hadn’t been poisoned and they wouldn’t let me leave until I had taken a bite of everything and they had done their so-called research.

“The third time-”

“No! Enough,” Bruce interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

Slowly, Loki let out a shuddering breath and it was only now he discovered his fingers were dug deeply into the armrests of his chair. Memories swiveled in his mind, making him shiver on occasion.

“Is that why you don’t want the gifts?” Steve asked. “You fear there’s a catch?”

Loki couldn’t find his words anymore and resorted to a small nod instead to confirm.

Suddenly Bucky spoke up. “You’re lying.”

The acquisition had been so unexpected that Loki’s head snapped up to seek out Bucky’s form, a sudden anger enabling him to speak again. “Do you think I am still capable of lying?” he snidely asked.

Bucky’s answer was cold. “I think you are.”

Loki scoffed.

“And as an exchange, I want you to tell me a lie to prove my point,” Bucky said.

“If I tell you a lie now, you would know I am lying.”

“How about that game?” Tony mused, interrupting their conversation. “Two truths and a lie?”

“How do you know which one is the lie?” Bucky asked sourly.

“I might be able to assist with that,” J.A.R.V.I.S. interjected. “I would know if he’s lying.”

“Are you up for this, Loki?” Natasha asked, obviously concerned.

Loki couldn’t deny he wasn’t afraid, but he also desired to try it. Where this desire stemmed from, he knew not, but the anger still swiveled in a dark pit in his stomach. Or maybe it was curiosity. Just to see if he could regain a sliver of his former self. He didn’t question how J.A.R.V.I.S. would know he was lying - that was for another time.

He nodded his agreement and held his index finger up in the air. “One. Time passes differently in every realm. When the Bifrost opened I went back to Asgard for one day, whilst only one second passed here Midgard.”

The anger which still coursed through his veins smothered his anxiety greatly, but he couldn’t prevent himself from fidgeting with his free hand while he laid out his options.

Another finger was added to his raised hand, indicating the second option. “Two. I am not blind, I just alter my appearance to get your compassion, and gain what I need.

“Three.” Loki said, adding another finger to his count. “The story I just told is indeed a lie.” Then he added, “J.A.R.V.I.S., do not tell them.”

It was suddenly so silent, one could hear a pin drop. Their auras were riddled with shock, and Loki could hear them breath heavily.

“The latter is preposterous as you’re trying to refute it,” Bruce pointed out.

Stiffly, Loki inclined his head, but didn’t betray anything.

Then, without warning, a ruckus of discussion erupted, all the Humans talking at the same time, theories going back and forth.

Loki was well aware of the ramifications he would eventually face with what he had just done. And no matter from which angle one would look at it, he would have to explain two truths about which he had previously lied. The anger which had bolstered his courage was slowly eaten by his anxiety, and he was quickly beating himself up about why he had done this.

How could he have been so stupid to be lured into this trap?

Eventually the Humans settled, but they were divided on the matter. It was also very clear they were angry with him, and Loki couldn’t fault them for that.

“Which one is it?” Bruce asked, a strange mix of curiosity, weariness and disbelief in his aura.

“J.A.R.V.I.S.?” Loki prompted, wanting to know if the A.I. had picked up correctly.

“All three options were a lie, sir,” was the answer.

Loki nodded. “Correct.”

After a heartbeat of silence the Humans spoke up, once again, all at the same time, stating their disbelief.

“This wasn’t the point of the game! Why would you do that?” Tony exclaimed loudest.

Loki decided to just let them have their shouting match, wild conspiracies and accusations, whilst he tried to calm his nerves until he was given the opportunity to speak. Yet, when he got that opportunity, Bucky beat him to it with the correct conclusion. “Cause he wanted to test if he could.”

J.A.R.V.I.S. then decided to speak up. “And Loki’s story is true.”

The new discussion which erupted was less loud, but still intense. Yet, one person didn’t participate, and hadn’t done so before.

Loki focused on Bucky’s aura. It was hard to read; the man could hide his feelings extremely well. Apparently he noticed the attention, and said, “I knew you could do it.”

There was obvious gratification in the Shadow’s tone and then things fell into place.

Bucky had simply pushed a button and set something in motion that allowed Loki to prove himself to himself. Bucky never believed Loki had lied about the story, he just wanted Loki to lie and excel at it, simply to show him he was still able.

A gift which couldn’t be wrapped with a fancy ribbon.

***

After the dust had somewhat settled, Tony decided it was time to take a break. They would get back to unpacking gifts later.

Loki wasn’t opposed, and he wasn’t the only one who needed a breather.

Nicely enough, the common room had its own balcony. The few times he’d been in the room he had been propped into a corner or against a wall, never bothering to scout the layout or set a foot more into the space than needed.

But now he was out on the balcony, the wind biting as the weather was cold. Loki hardly felt it. He was leaning on the railing, staring at a night and city he couldn’t see.

He heard footsteps behind him, but didn’t bother to turn around or acknowledge the presence of the other. Granted, the situation wasn’t ideal because if someone had malicious intent they could push him off the balcony, but he figured they would rather let him die slowly and painfully than end him quickly.

And thus far they had had every opportunity to kill him, yet, none of these Humans had.

Maybe they truly weren’t part of HYDRA and were they Avengers as they claimed - whatever the rights and obligations were that came with that title.

The person took up residence next to him and greeted, “Hey.”

It was Clint.

An awkward silence settled between them. Loki was well aware that the other wanted to speak with him, or to him, but didn’t know where to start. Thus Loki decided to break the ice, even though he was reluctant to have a conversation. “You do not like your gift?”

“I- ah… It definitely wasn’t what I’d expected,” came the doubtful reply.

“Ungrateful much,” Loki said, using Clint’s earlier words. He could feel how the other’s aura flared with bluster, and Loki turned his head, a small smile on his lips and he winked.

The small chuckle that followed was more nervous relief than actual mirth. “It explained a lot though,” Clint said carefully.

“Undeniably,” Loki agreed.

“Was that why you told it? So you wouldn’t have to explain why you’ve been on edge all evening?”

“Perhaps,” Loki mused. “Perhaps I did to create an opportunity to depart from this obligation.” His blind eyes went back to the nightsky he couldn’t see. “I never have had trouble with telling a story, no matter how fastly wild. Whether it was truthful or a lie, no matter how many people were giving me their attention. However, when you asked and put me on the spot…” He trailed and shook his head again.

“Well, whatever your reason, you shocked us enough,” Clint said wryly. “And we’re reluctant to give you your other presents. Let alone that Bruce still wants to receive his story.”

Loki’s lips slightly curled and he chuckled - something from which he couldn’t remember when he had done it last. “I have more interesting and less harrowing stories, yet I cannot promise they are happy.”

“How come?” Clint asked seriously.

Loki fell silent, the nail of his thumb running over the pad of his index finger as he debated if he should answer. When he did, deciding to take another leap of faith, his tone was serious as well. “Because I cannot remember happy ones.”

“None at all?” Clint asked, perplexed. “I mean, my childhood memories are far from great, but at least I got a couple of happy ones.”

Loki turned to the other, his brows slightly furrowed and he slowly nodded. “I might have them, but I suspect they have been altered.”

“The fuck did they do to you?” Clint murmured, sorrow in his voice.

When Loki answered, he sounded dreamy and far away. “A lot of things you cannot even imagine or should desire to know.”

It was the first time Loki admitted out loud that which had befallen him wasn’t alright. It was the first time he dared to admit it to himself, and that notion, the fact that nobody deserved to be put through such torture as he had been put through, brought tears to his eyes.

Are you sure you did not deserve it? The snide voice in the back of his mind asked.

Clint was hovering next to him, obviously at a loss at what to do with the situation. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Loki didn’t move, frozen to the spot as he tried to push the emotional pain and melancholy away. It was of no use. At the end of this conversation they were expected inside, back to their merry gift unwrapping.

Yet, he felt a little less frightened towards that prospect. Thus far the worst thing that had happened had come from himself, not these Humans. And after every leap of faith he had pushed himself to make, he hadn’t been disappointed with the outcome. Maybe they truly deserved the benefit of the doubt. And maybe all there was to the remainder of the evening was gift unwrapping. No pain, no punishment, no experiments, no torture. Just sharing mirth, an opportunity to eat and even have a conversation without devastating consequences.

If all that could be true, Loki didn’t even want the presents which were intended for him.

Had he truly no joyful memory of a festivity on Asgard? He remembered Thor and his friends laughing, smiles lighting their faces and eyes, but why did it feel like they were laughing at him, and not with him? Why did every shrap of a memory where someone showed mirth in his presence evoked a feeling of being mocked?

Thor who ridiculed him for his insufficient ability to fight.

A scolding from his father after he had shown something he was proud of.

The look of disappointment on his mother’s face after he had created a minor spell for the first time.

Discomfort akin to pain in his upper arm demanded attention and Loki pulled himself back to the present. He was shaking and discovered Clint had grabbed his arm, digging his fingers into his flesh a little too harsh.

“Hey, you with me?” Clint asked, sounding urgent and worried.

Loki roughly pulled his arm free of the grasp and with a raspy voice he said, “I am well.”

He could feel the superficial relief in Clint’s aura, but the other wasn’t reassured. And jokingly he said, “You really are a good liar.”

Loki forced a smile on his face. “So I have been told.”

“Let’s head back inside. I bet Tony’s eating himself up because he hasn’t opened a single present. Guy is as impatient as a child.”

“Is he even sober enough to notice?” Loki deadpanned, drawing a chuckle from Clint.

“He is.”

The remainder of the evening went by without much incident. All the Avengers (but mostly Bruce) had made clear that they well understood why Loki hated the festivity. Yet, they still asked him to trust them and assured him nothing bad was going to happen. But they also fully understood if he wanted to leave.

Loki had agreed to stay, taking another leap of faith. He wondered how many leaps of faith he could take before it would come back around.

At least he felt less anxious and he managed to eat something, albeit it wasn’t much.

He received some useful presents - some of which probably looked beautiful as well, judging by the patterns he could feel on the dagger’s handle he had gotten from Natasha.

They didn’t ask him to tell another story, and when the presents were unwrapped he even dared a small conversation with Steve.

Still, he left the festivity early (he wasn’t the only one as Bucky took the opportunity his departure created to leave as well) because he was tired. Definitely not a lie.

Now as he was thinking about the evening whilst lying on his bed, Loki found that it hadn't been that bad or displeasing. One might even say he had slightly enjoyed himself.

***

It was the day after Christmas and Loki had been reading the entire day. Yesterday he had been gifted another book by Tony and the topic was interesting enough to devour the words hours on end.

Contrary to the past weeks, today nobody had come to ask him if he needed anything. Bucky had come by twice to almost literally dump food on his table and leave again. He was obviously in a sour mood, and as far as Loki could pinpoint the auras of the other residents of the building, some of them were dealing with the aftereffects of the eggnog and punch.

Loki didn’t mind and time trickled by without him actually noticing.

“Loki, dinner is ready.” J.A.R.V.I.S. announced, breaking the silence.

Even though the Humans brought him his every meal, every so often J.A.R.V.I.S. alerted him when dinner was ready - a request for him to join the Avengers. Never once had he accepted the invitation, and out of habit was about to decline this one as well when he suddenly changed his mind.

Yesterday evening hadn’t been awful and maybe he should give it a try.

It wasn’t a celebration, but Loki didn’t feel like he could join looking like he did, and thus he magicked something more proper for the evening.

He was still nervous. What if yesterday's affair was vastly different from what was yet to come? What if he was mistaken and this leap of faith would come back around to him?

The elevator dinged, heralding his arrival at the destined floor, and taking a deep breath to muster some courage, Loki stepped out.

His arrival in the common room was immediately noticed and Clint said happily, “Look who’s here.”

“Don’t scare him away,” said Tony, trying for airily, but miserably failing as Loki caught the weariness in voice.

Doubtingly, he stood in the doorway. This had been a stupid idea. It wasn’t too late to turn around and run back to his cell.

“Loki, over here,” Clint beckoned him.

Now it was too late.

With a sigh to steady himself, Loki moved through the room until he had found the couch with the spot reserved for him. Tentatively he sat down, the fingers of his left hand fumbling with each other. He could smell the food and he knew exactly what he was going to receive as sustenance this evening. It was an old time favorite of these Humans, yet, Loki knew not why.

“Here.” Clint, who was sitting next to him, pushed a lukewarm box in his hands. “We’re having-”

“-pizza,” Loki finished for him, nodding. He dug a piece of the food out of its box and took a small bite. His appetite had faded the moment he had set foot into the room, but out of courtesy (and because he really needed sustenance) he ate.

He could feel how Bruce settled his attention on him and not soon thereafter he asked, “How did you know?”

Loki’s brows furrowed. Wasn’t it obvious? “I can smell it.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” Sam asked. “I’ve seen you walking around and training with Nat, you never walk into anything. How do you do that? The seeing without seeing? You’re still blind, right?”

Still nibbling on his slice of pizza, Loki thoughtfully nodded. How was he ever going to explain this to these non-magic users? And Humans on top of that! Did he even want to explain? It felt slightly intrusive. Yet, he could feel they were genuinely interested and not out to mock him.

“I ah-” he began, trying to find the right words. “I am able to detect your aura, therefore I know where you are. The same can be applied to inanimate objects.”

“So you can see us?” Clint asked.

Loki shook his head. “No, I am able to see your energy, not-”

“So my soul?”

“An interesting theory,” Loki replied, his interest piqued at the prospect of a philosophical conversation. “I do not know if it is your soul or just energy from your existence. Many have speculated about this question, yet none have come to a conclusion because nobody has ever seen a soul. Therefore-” he got interrupted, again, by Clint and he felt his eye twitch with irritation.

“So you have no clue what I look like?”

Thus far an intelligent conversation…

“Slightly,” he answered, irritated. “I am able to detect you are wearing fabrics and have two knives in your boots, yet, what color any of those are I know not.” He could feel Clint blanch and Loki dryly added, “I can also detect you are feeling shocked.”

“So you can basically read the energy of almost everything,” asked Steve, “and with that information you know where something or someone is, what it is or how they feel, and whatnot, on top of highly honed senses?”

Finally someone who understood it! “Yes,” Loki confirmed. “To an extent where I can hear an insect outside and am aware of every person inside this building and outside of it.”

This time it was Tony who blanched and he asked with a wavering voice, “Hear and feel everything?”

But Loki hardly heard him, his brows furrowing. When he had made the statement he could sense everything in and outside of the building, he had subconsciously done so, and he felt something in the air outside. Not a weather element, but the anticipated atmosphere of-

Suddenly, the windows around them shattered with an ear deafening sound. The air filled itself with sounds of more glass breaking, weapons firing, furniture crashing and people shouting. One voice - from whom Loki didn’t know it belonged to - could be heard over all the noise and it filled him to the brim with fear and hatred.

“HYDRA!”

---

Next Chapter

A/N: I thrive on comments <3

#Loki #Loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki whump #loki angst #the avengers #avengers fanfic #loki is a mess

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midnightsconspiracy · 3 years

Text

Office Romance?

Office Romance? - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: It's Mouse’s first day in the 21st district. Jay introduces him to the whole team, except you who seems to always be out until you finally meet at Molly’s and completely hit it off

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2193

Requested: Nope but my requests are currently open

A/N: This is my first time writing for Mouse and the longest fic I’ve written, so hopefully everyone likes it! :)

Masterlist

It was Mouse’s first day in Intelligence, it was finally the day that he was going to turn his life around. No longer living in sketchy areas and gaining felonies but instead becoming a legit member of society and working for a reputable institution, the Chicago police department. He had been recommended to the boss by his friend and former military buddy Jay Halstead, who unlike himself, had managed to get a proper holding in society after being discharged from the Rangers. This was finally his chance to show Jay and everyone else who cares about him that he could do something else good with his life and that he was more than just his time in the military.

Meeting Jay outside the district, the two men embrace in a warm hug, briefing saying their hellos and reminiscing on old times before they ascended the stairs. They pasted Sergeant Platt, Jay giving her a small hello in which she ignored and Mouse, despite having only met her once, gave her a polite smile. Punching in the passcode alongside his handprint, he unlocked the door climbing the second set of stairs up to the place he would call ‘home’ for hopefully years to come. Reaching the top Jay paused, Mouse quick to follow his actions.

“Guys this is Mouse, Mouse this is the Unit. That’s Dawson, Lindsay, Olinsky, Atwater, Nadia, and Sergeant Voight’s in his office.” The people in the room all averted their gaze from their own individual work, with Voight even exiting his office to greet him as well, to greet the newest member of the team, all presenting him with a momentary smile, short greeting, or handshake.

“Oh and Y/LN and Ruzek are currently out chasing up a lead right now but should be back soon,” Jay quickly followed up, trying to familiarise his buddy up with as much as possible to make him as comfortable as he could, knowing mouse struggled with rejoining society.

“Ok-k, well it's good meeting everyone, and I hope I can be of assistance to you all,” he mumbled out nervously, he admired Jay and Voight for giving him this opportunity but it still didn’t stop the feelings that they had a level of superiority over him due to their jobs. Taking him downstairs to his own tech room, he prompted Mouse to take a look around to get accustomed to his surroundings.

“What do you think buddy?

“I think it will do the job just fine,” he smiled back to jay reassuring him that he could do this.

“Ok, well if you’re all good I’ve got work to do myself,” Jay announced before turning and leaving Mouse to his own devices, finally leaving him to prove himself worthy.

—————

Mouse’s day was hectic, to say the least. Members of the team were constantly in and out of the tech room or calling him, getting him to give them vital information as quickly as he possibly could. But he thrived in the conditions present, what previously was extreme anxiety when he first entered turned into adrenaline. He hadn’t experienced such a high-intensity situation since his time at the Rangers, but he loved it. The Rangers was the place he felt most at home and alive, but the ‘accident’ had caused him to be honourably discharged. He wanted to be back in Afghanistan with Jay and his other military buddies desperately, feeling as though he had a place there, that he was actually contributing something good to the world, but this would do for the time, this was the best thing for him right now.

From what he could figure out, the unit was dealing with a human trafficking case in which multiple girls were found dead by the Docks, thrown into a container, and starved to death. Pulling up the names of multiple different men, he stared into their eyes as the pictures came up on his screen and felt no remorse for them as he heard each man be dragged into the cage one by one. The team managed to successfully find lead after lead, deciding to either all roll out together or keep sending Ruzek and Y/LN out. It was already about halfway through the day and Mouse still had not met the said people, only occasionally hearing their voices or being told to send them the information he was finding.

—————

As the day further progressed things started to flatline, leads found previously being a bust and nobody seeming to find anything worthwhile. The whole team worked tireless upstairs as Mouse found them the material they needed downstairs. Finally, after an hour of absolutely nothing, Dawson managed to get vital information from a CI and so a feasible lead was afoot. As the others were gearing up and getting ready to finally make some arrests, Jay popped his head into Mouse’s tech cave.

“Mouse I need you to send me the information on Spencer Phillips ASAP,” he was just about to walk out when he turned his head slightly to utter a few final words to his friend,

“And good job buddy, we really appreciate it.” Mouse smiled as he looked up the information for Jay, maybe he was going something good for the world, especially if his dearest friend thought so.

—————

The lead had been successful and two arrests of notable people in a human trafficking ring were arrested. The case was not fully closed, the organisation still up and running, but the perpetrators of the murders were put away to never see a day in the sun again. That was enough for Voight to warrant the members of his team a break to go home, rest and in the younger detective's case visit the local bar, Molly’s. Coming back up to the main room Jay greeted Mouse, patting him on the back for a job well done, he had underestimated his friend, thinking that he may struggle with his job just as he had coped with his anxiety and PTSD after coming back from the Middle East. Walking further into the room Mouse finally got to see the infamous man who had manage to evade his line of sight for the whole working day, Adam Ruzek. Approaching him he finally got to introduce himself.

“Hi, it's nice to finally meet you”

“Yeah, you too Mouse, I feel like I’ve been swept off my feet the whole day, you coming to Molly’s”

“I wasn’t planning to but sure why not?” Mouse had a vague idea of what Molly’s was, Jay sometimes talking about the bar run by first responders, but he was excited to finally see it for himself. Turning to Jay, who was packing his stuff up at his desk, he assumed he would want to go to the bar alongside the rest of the team,

“Molly’s then?” He smirked knowing Jay would never turn him or drinking down,

“Of course.” Leaving the district together, the two guys headed in the direction of the bar relieved to finally get away from work and have some downtime. Unbeknown to them you were in the changing room with Kim chatting away, excited to go for a drink and ready to go upstairs to meet the new tech guy. Little did you know you would be very disappointed when you did so.

—————

Arriving at the bar the men settled into the unit's usual booth at the back of the bar, flagging down Hermann to get two beers so that they could finally unwind from a long day of stressful events.

“The rest of the team should be here shortly, but how was your first day buddy, tell me all,” Jay asked hoping that his friend liked the position so that he could work towards becoming an outstanding member of the community and chuffed that he was working alongside his best friend once more.

“It was good man, I don’t really know what else to say about it. Um..I finally felt as if I was doing something with myself, I felt that adrenaline I missed from the Rangers, but I miss it, the thrill, the relationships, everything really Jay.” Jay sighed not knowing what to say, annoyed at his friend for missing it, he had spent so long trying to pull Mouse out of that bad place, a constant cycle of anxiety, depression, and PTSD, that it hurt him that he wanted to go back. The tense situation was interrupted by the rest of the team arriving, taking up the rest of the room in the booth with Erin snuggling up to Jay and Adam getting up to buy a round for the table. All the usual suspects were there enjoying themselves, except one, you.

You had gone home to shower and get out of your work clothes before making your way to meet the rest of the team for some rest and relaxation, maybe nestling a few beers throughout the night. Making your way into the bar, you passed members of firehouse 51, making small talk with them before moving towards Hermann to get yourself an alcoholic beverage. Thanking him you turned to walk over to your unit's table, spotting an unfamiliar figure in the corner of the booth next to jay, which you could assume was the new tech guy Mouse.

“Christ Y/LN where have you been?” Your partner Adam boomed, already a little tipsy from the two beers he had consumed.

“Sorry I had to go home first, wanted to freshen up,” you smiled amused at how much of a lightweight Adam really was, despite claiming otherwise.

“Y/N this is Mouse, I don’t think you’ve met yet,” Jay interrupted you, drawing your attention away to introduce you to the nervous man beside him. Looking him dead in the eyes, you noticed how attractive he was, you had just presumed that Mouse would be less than average looking considering his measly nickname, but no, the man in front of you was undeniably handsome with a charming smile and deep blue eyes.

“Hi, it's nice to meet you, sorry I didn’t meet you earlier, seems like we were both at the wrong place at the wrong time,” you gave a shy smile, sitting down next to Kevin trying to look confident despite the nervousness you felt inside.

“I-its good to meet you to Y/N, seems like the universe is not in our favour huh?” He stuttered equally as nervous, for what you assumed was first-time jitters, but little did you know it was because he found you equally as attractive.

——————

Throughout the night you continued talking with all members of your unit but especially Mouse. You felt naturally drawn to him, not just because of your attraction but also the stories he told that fascinated you, some from his days in the rangers and other ones from his childhood. By the end of the night, you too had managed to move to sit next to each other, with the members of your unit seeing you hit it off immediately and so pushed you together hoping for another office romance. Completely enamoured by him, you didn’t even notice that the other people in the bar were starting to trickle out slowly and Hermann’s last order was thirty minutes ago. Finally noticing your surroundings after the bartender had called your name and told you it was closing time, you checked your watch noticing the late time. Turning to Mouse you smiled and softly spoke about the revelation,

“I didn’t even realise how late it was, maybe we should get out of here, wait wait! Not like that, well unless you want you.” Noticing what you had said, you shyly smiled hoping he wouldn’t think you were too weird.

“That sounds good,” he cheekily smirked moving out of the booth, allowing you to get out too and heading towards the doors of the bar, saying a brief goodnight to Hermann on your way out. You walked down the street together to where your cars were parked, going at a slow pace, trying to extend your time together for as long as possible. Locating your car you stood next to it as you went to say your goodbyes to the handsome man in front of you.

“Thank you for keeping me company tonight, I really enjoyed it”

“Yeah me too, but I was hoping we could do it again sometime, just you and me?” Completely taken aback you stuttered to think of your response, you weren’t not thrilled about it at all, just completely surprised that he liked you as you did him.

“I’d love to Mouse, give me your phone,” handing you his phone you put your number in, silently hoping he would be one of those guys that actually use your number instead of ignoring it completely. Proceeding to hand it back, you both stood in silence not knowing what to say. But in this situation, no words were needed, only actions. So when he leaned in to place his lips, you gladly reciprocated the affection, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. Little did you know this would lead to a lifetime of desire and devotion.

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #greg gerwitz #greg gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz imagines #greg mouse gerwitz

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