#Like genuinely not at all but for safety sake

[factorialsotherfandoms]

I am now as close to certain as I can be without being an admin or knowing the plot that there will not be egg related consequences (at least in safety of eggs terms) to the base defence game today. We could talk about it making no sense when the admins want players to play, but I'm actually going to raise you what happened to Blue Team egg. This is almost entirely talking from a meta/OC perspective. Obviously IC there's still the threat and IC interactions will still work according to that until proven one way or another.

Pure Meta - Green attacked, and drove the egg to low health. They however very specifically did not kill it. When Blue gave up the egg was removed by the admins. Why do I say this means no consequences for the eggs we know and love? Because depending on your interpretation the admins either killed the blue egg or made it immune by removing it from the game while it still had health. Either way, the admins - not the players - would have sealed the fate of Chayanne and Leo. Which like... the admins would have respected the intent not to kill but also leave the option until the very end if it were going to have non-player repercussions. Just in case Green came back to finish it off for easy extra points. Just in case Red chose the easy target first. But no Blue decided to step out of the game and so their points were removed from the field as nobody to defend it, leaving victory to be decided by if Red and Green found and attacked each other's eggs. If there were going to be consequences for Chayanne and Leo the blue egg would have been left as bait until the end and so the players still sealed the fate.

Meta-IC overlap - When there was the announcement "blue team egg has been removed from the game", all of the teams genuinely thought this meant someone had destroyed it. Red blamed Green, Green blamed Cellbit, Blue blamed Red because they saw Green leave. The phrasing made it sound like, well, when a chess piece is removed from the board, rather than when an actual living being is killed. With the belief that the blue egg had been removed by player action, not admin action, and this phrasing the logical conclusion is that killing is irrelevant. Notably when Philza killed the Green Team egg it said killed instead, but the use of the word killed there was a surprise - because it wasn't what happened to the other one. The use of removed vs killed is massive in terms of perception of if something is alive or not and the potential consequences - for an extremely depressing irl example look at war propaganda and how the people of the other side are dehumanised so as to make the civilian population swallow the bloodshed.

I do not and cannot know if Red would have acted differently had the phrasing been different or had this not happened, but... an unintended miscommunication by the admins IS something that any self-respecting gamerunner should give players allowances for in terms of consequences. Admin-given consequences, that is - the other players can react how they like (though God the fact only some people are playing this IC makes it a fucking mess). Its like when spawncamping was banned but green and blue made a deal which involved what might have been spawncamping, and also the Rivers getting killed. Because the admins didn't define their terminology they didn't punish people for it (as far as I can tell), they just clarified the rules.

Also just putting all this work in then punishing players for playing the game is stupid.

Have some faith in the admins, but even if you don't, have some logic there about it.

(Also, aside, but thanks to the build contests Red still would have won even if Green had killed Blue's egg, because different starting values. It's entirely possible the admins credited Green for the kill given the meta only point, but I'm not enough of a numbers brain to work it out)

[fissions-chips]

Evil Tim AU where the horror doesn’t come from Tim being an unspeakably, brutally violent man (he has people for that), particularly towards Jon, but where the horror comes from how quietly and completely he manages to take over the man’s life by taking advantage of a bad situation.

Tim being less of a stereotypically abusive partner in favor of Jon looking up one day to find that every one of his allies has been ruthlessly killed, his penthouse no longer looks like it’s his, he no longer has any of his former power- and, try as he might, he can’t remember when things became this way.

[mxdotpng]

the zestiria anime fixes and also messes up many things at the exact same time its actually kind of impressive i have to salute them for it

[genderqueerdykes]

if you genuinely believe that trans men and cis men are enemies and need to be pitted against each other: you drank the terf juice.

if you believe that pre transition or never transition transfems "look too threatening" or "too cishet" or "unsafe for other queers to be around": you drank the terf juice.

if you misgender butch trans women and multigender transfem lesbians and remove them from lesbian spaces: you drank the terf juice.

if you police transfems and call them "loud," "aggressive," "mean," or "rude," just because they have deep voices or high testosterone bodies: you drank the terf juice.

if you genuinely believe that all men and mascs need to be barred from entry into non binary, lesbian, and other queer spaces: you drank the terf juice.

if you genuinely believe all cishet men are inherently queerphobic, evil, and dangerous to be around: you drank the terf juice.

if you genuinely believe trans and cis men are inherently violent and dangerous because they're men: you drank the terf juice.

if you genuinely believe that cis-passing trans men aren't queer and/or don't belong in queer spaces because they look and sound "too cis" or 'threatening': you drank the terf juice.

if you genuinely believe that anyone who is AMAB and/or has a penis is inherently violent: you drank the terf juice.

if you genuinely believe it's okay to profile strangers to assume they're cis or het (or ANYTHING): you drank the terf juice.

literally ALL of these things are terf ideologies and actions. in order to accept ourselves and be accepted, we must accept that just like how our identities are not inherently violent- neither are cis and het folks'.

blaming cis mens' gender instead of their actions and behaviors for their dangerous and queerphobic actions removes the responsibility from the individual man. that was one man who did something wrong.

hold that individual person accountable for their actions and leave their gender and/or birth sex out of it- they're irrelevant to the situation.

making trans women, intersex trans women, transfems, nonbinary people, genderqueer people, etc. uncomfortable by policing how they look and sound is not the way to go. policing transfems and preventing them from queer spaces is not the way to go. policing trans men and mascs and preventing them from entering spaces they belong in is not the way to go.

excluding queer men and mascs from the communities they rightfully belong in isn't helping anyone. cis gay men need community. cis asexual men need community. cis aromantic men need community. cis polyamorous men need community. genderqueer, non binary, and gnc cis men need community. cis bisexual/mspec men need community. trans women who are also men need community. trans men need community. intersex men need community. the list goes on.

community means working together, not fragmenting ourselves off into the tiniest micro pockets imaginable for the sake of "Safety". running afraid from every. single. man and masc you encounter will not keep you safe- femmes and women are capable of abuse. we cannot fall into this "woman good man bad" trap. being afraid of a group of people wholesale doesn't help you heal from whatever trauma you have. it's going to keep you scared for the rest of your life. it's best to move on and stop judging strangers for features they can't help or didn't ask for.

[technoturian]

Regardless of my feelings about the BoS as a whole in the Fallout series, Maximus as a character exceeded all my expectations.

Maximus, honestly, to me, was the most nuanced and best acted character in the series. His situations were fantastical and yet the way he reacted to it all was so grounded. He was like a prestige drama character in a series full of cartoons. Don't get me wrong, I like the cartoons. Fallout leans heavily into parody and it's totally on brand. But Maximus' entire emotional arc was so understated and I really appreciated it.

He isn't a very vocal OR excessively emotive character because he knows being vulnerable hurts him. He shapes himself to that idealized memory of the knight in the armor even as he doesn't seem to really understand or care for the beliefs behind the armor. He's failing his classes as an aspirant. When talking of the BoS beliefs, he throws in a "or whatever". That part of it doesn't matter to him. The armor IS his belief system.

His whole story is about the cycle of violence and toxicity. The bullies who beat him. The abuse he endures. He wants power so that he can escape it but once he gets that chance he's doomed to perpetuate it, because that power is coming from the system. It's tainted. Deep down he doesn't want revenge, he doesn't even want power for power's sake, he wants safety. And he wants to be the hero from his memory, he wants the strength to save himself from this cycle.

And yet, he just keeps making he wrong choices. Over and over and over. He can't get out of it.

And then Lucy throws him a lifeline. And it takes someone from outside of the cycle to break through. And then he makes the choice to do the right thing even though it means making himself weaker, making himself less safe. He chooses to do the right thing for the first time in the show. And it means finally letting go of his dream, the armor.

And he sees a light at the end of the tunnel. He thinks his reward is going to be Vault 33, he's going to be safe and happy with someone who cares about him and makes him feel like a real, good person.

And by the end of the series, he's trapped in the cycle again.

There is just something so delicious about someone getting everything they wanted at the start and being miserable about it. There's something so REAL about wanting to be something but every instinct makes you sabotage yourself every step of the way.

And the thing is, he had all of these little moments of genuineness, selfishness, pettiness, virtue, I genuinely didn't know what he was going to do for most of the show. I thought he might turn on Lucy at some point. I honestly, truly thought he had sabotaged Dane even though Dane was his only friend. He is so morally hard to pin down because he's so full of life's little hypocrisies. His ideals and his feelings are in conflict so much and he doesn't have to look anguished for you to understand that. You just see it in his resigned stares, in his hesitance and his ultimate actions.

I just... I really loved Maximus. Bravo to Aaron Moten.

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby [part 3]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD and in this fic the reader isn't a big fan of adam so qwq apologies adam lovers!! nothing against him at all!]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. alastor attends the court but doesn't do much but watch the mess happen tbh qwq sorries. )

(oh and every flashback that will be in almost every chapter will be out of order! but will always include what age the reader was in at the time of that memory!)

(tags: @wildfire153 @nevermorekisses @corvidae-00 @d0nutsaur @baalzie @luujjvi )

It is the day of the court meeting.

You have never been so glad in the entirety of your afterlife that you made so many good connections to higher angels throughout all your years in heaven.

You managed to convince one of your close friends that usually attended these kinds of court meetings to bring you along as a sort of 'extra advisor', an outside opinion of sorts.. with the exception of not speaking out and interrupting the court while it's ongoing and if you need anything to be said to tell it to them and they'll speak out for you.

Apparently this meeting was entirely set up so that the princess of hell could present a hotel as a second chance for sinners who genuinely wish to better themselves and to go to heaven. Personally you thought that hell was simply their punishment to live through due to their sins, they had their chances. But then again you couldn't imagine what hell was like to those who murdered or committed sins they didn't intend to for the sake of their safety and others.. so a part of you understood where she was coming from as well.

Although.. you genuinely hoped she wouldn't use Alastor as an example since he most definitely doesn't regret a single crime he's done on earth.

You followed your friend inside the court room, taking a seat beside them as you looked down below where Charlie Morningstar and the manager of her hotel, who you know found out is named Vaggie, were prepping to present their cause. Suspiciously, Alastor seemed to be running late since the courthouse seemed to be lacking his presence for these few short moments.. which you weren't exactly sure if that was good or bad.

Once everyone was seated and all was quiet that's when the infamous Adam came and flew in, god you hated that man. You questioned how someone like him could be in a high position in heaven with how many things he's done it just peeved you off.. but you never bothered to verbally question it since you didn't want to find out if mortal souls can be fallen as well since for all you knew only higher angels like the seraphims could become fallen.

Ah, and finally Alastor appeared by means of traveling by shadow.. several members of the court hushing and murmuring after seeing the power that particular sinner seemed to have. Unlike them, you only let out a huff of air through your nose as your skin began to grow cold.. feeling nervous at how the court is reacting to your father even if none of them knew of that big fact just yet. Alastor then set himself beside Charlie on her right hand-side, Vaggie on her left.

Once Adam let out his usual annoying comments that you mentally muted out, that's when Sera finally began the meeting.

Guess you're right on time, Alastor.

"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into the heavenly realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel." she spoke, voice full of reason and seemed very professional. She then gave the rest of the court's attention to the princess. "Princess Morningstar?"

The poor girl seemed nervous and Adam's presence didn't seem to help much either. With a sigh she began as well "Thank you, Seraphim."

You felt bad for the girl, the pressure she must be under. She didn't seem evil to you at all.. in fact with what you heard of her so far she more or less seemed to fit in with Heaven quite well. Oh poor thing.

She cleared her throat, "Webster's dictionary defines redemption as--"

"Objection! Lame and unoriginal."

Hearing Adam's voice made you want to scream.

Oh and so did Alastor's right after.

"Oh here now, no need to be so rude." Alastor's voice interrupted, his tone seemingly playful yet serious "How may we even present our case if you won't even let us explain hmm? Now that's no fair."

Adam scoffed, "Pfft! And why even are you here smiley? Don't tell me something as fucked-up looking as you is gonna be the princess's piece of proof for this shitty hotel, aren't you just another sick fuck?" Laughed the man, an ego bigger than heaven itself.

"I am Alastor, host of the hotel and a sort of co-founder of it as well! I can assure you the Princess's cause and ideas, as bizarre as they seem, seem to be developing quite well!

Now if you'll let us continue, we can at least show you the progress of it so far." The deer demon pointed his hand towards Charlie to give the attention to her once more.

Sera let out a sigh and stepped in to let Charlie continue, with the exception of no further dictionary references.

You sighed feeling frustrated, can't they just let her speak and present herself the way she wants to?

The poor girl seemed to skip through several note cards, Adam continuing to nag her about evidence and yada yada. While he complained your eyes landed on Alastor, your father seemingly annoyed and intrigued by this annoying guy as well.

The few words passed around seemed to deafen on you as you stared at him, trying to see what could he be plotting. Was he to use this hotel as a means to cover something, to bring in more victims, to cause more pain? You were unsure.. he seemed to nice about it. Alastor noticed your prying eyes and side eyed you back as well with that shit-eating grin, making you immediately look away back towards the princess to listen to her once again.

"Angel Dust." she exclaimed.

"Oh yeah. The porn demon! He's totally worth being redeemed." Adam's sarcastic comments and actions only made you see him as childish. You never really interacted with him one on one before since you never needed to but you have seen and heard several things.. you didn't think he deserved to be up here.

"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into heaven?" Adam seemed flabbergasted by her comment, almost stuck on what to say with how many filler words he uses.

You then put your finger under your chin in thought, 'Good question.. what does it take?' you thought up your own deeds, sacrificing your life for another, your everyday general selflessness, you remember always helping others that needed it and always defended your father from people who saw him as nothing but dirt. To you, getting into heaven takes pure selflessness.

Adam sent a golden paper towards Vaggie, her voice announcing what is says. "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man.. Are you fucking serious?"

Alastor interrupted right after " I do believe theres a few more things after that if I do so recall.."

Adam practically ignored him and started boasting about himself again. You could've sworn a migraine was to come onto you. Alastor definetly wanted to let out more witty comments but knew he had to behave on this particular day as well. He felt annoyed but his relaxed attitude and smile never let that slip out for a second, he looked perfectly composed.

Your friend, the court member, gently nudged on your arm as a way to ask you if you're okay without verbally saying it since apparently you have been sighing and huffing constantly when annoyed or simply reacting to something.

"Oh.. sorry.." you mumbled towards them, they whispered that it's okay right after.

"Let's fucking see then." Adam snapped his fingers as Charlie proudly presented Exhibit A. Everyone seemed to watch with interest, you with slight doubt and hope for the best.

------(sorry besties we gotta time skip a bit more into the song portion of the court qwq I don't know what else to write heeere im sorryyyyy)-------------------------

The evidence was nothing but clear, his Angel Dust fellow was truly making progress to redemption, it was clear through actions! Maybe there really is serious hope for him after all.

So why was Sera and Adam so adamant in not going further in this?

Your thinking only amplified when the court around you also asked the same thing, about why this soul isn't in heaven then.

It wasn't until the Princess started questioning them as well where Sera was stopping the questioning.

Emily started singing and her words slowly impacted you and as you lingered on it that it made you look down and gaze down at your father once more, his expression relaxed and now more focused on how the situation is playing our rather than helping out.

Alastor was here for the entertainment and laughs, and this man knew that it was just going to get better from here now.

-------------(passing through the song cuz honestly im unsure of what else to add but I just know alastor is watching this shit show go down and maybe try to defend charlie but in a half-assed sort of way.. love the man.)----------------------

Sera's voiced echoed across the court, finalizing her final verdict which made your legs threaten to get back up from your seat again. "I'm sorry.. but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed."

Nono its not fair, not every sinner down there is evil theres still a few that have potential to be here! The evidence was clear! Progress can be made!..

And to imagine all the sinners they've killed up to now.

Adam cackled and boasted more, threatening the trio to attack their hotel first.

Alastor took this to heart and decided to act a bit irrationally, activating his powers as his shadow grew bigger as a way to threaten him back. The two girls begging him to stop knowing that this will only anger the angels more.

"Whoa--p lucky for you I'm not in the mood to fight right now, bye bye fuckers!" With a cackle Adam opened a large yellow portal which slowly sucked Vaggie and Charlie in as they begged not to leave. Alastor on he other hand dug his heels onto the ground and his tentacles kept him on the floor strong and using his microphone cane as extra security to not fall over from how strong the portal was trying to suck him in.

"Geez you just don't give up do you, fuckin' radio freak." Adam's comment made Lute grab her weapon that appeared in her grasp when she extended her hand out, raising it up to strike Alastor that was already struggling a bit to stay in place.

Sera exclaimed with Emily and the entire court gasping, "Adam that's--"

"ENOUGH!" you exclaimed, jumping down and leaping out of your seat to stand in between Alastor and Lute, become a barrier.

Lute scoffed "Get out of the way, you aren't even supposed to be in here"

"Killing him would just make you as bad as any other sinner down there."

She snarled at your comment, resisting the urge to strike you instead.

You turned around to face Alastor with a pitiful look on your face "Get out of here, go home. You're making this worse than it has to." You took a steps closer to him yet tried to stay put so that the portal doesn't suck you in as well. "Leave, dad." you gave him a smile, as if this is the last time you're going to see him ever again. "Resisting heaven in this way will only make this dangerous for you and me. Go."

Alastor's eyes narrowed at you, taking a glance at Adam behind you who was flipping him off before giving his attention back to his little dove.

Without any words he made his powers relax, the tentacles slowly uncurling from his ankles and he went into the portal with a menacing grin look to the court as if indirectly saying that this won't be the last of him.

With the portal finally closed you then let out a sigh, Adam laughing his ass off. "Seems like you got a shitty case of daddy issues huh! You came from that prick's ballsack too?? Did you cheat your way up here or something?"

'I'm adopted dipshit, could say the same thing about you though' your thoughts were then interrupted by Sera scolding Adam who then calmed down and flew off himself away with Lute beside him, so did the rest of the other court angels.

You turned to look back up at her too, an obvious look of disappointment adorning her face for being in a place you weren't even meant to be in the first place.

"_____." her voice made you feel small, "I will discuss with you later about the.. decisions you took today, but now theres more important things coming towards our way. Your apparent father... being a good example of what we need to protect ourselves from." She then proceeded to turn to Emily, talking to her in her own gentle way.

You sighed in defeat, although you didn't see Alastor do anything terrible he almost was about to do something he could have possibly regretted.

You flew yourself out of the court room to the entrance of the courthouse, deciding to walk by foot to blow off some steam.

The extermination was set to happen in a month, that'd give you enough time to prepare..

Nonono-- you can't actually be thinking to go to hell in disguise, help the princess, defend her against the angels in another disguise so the angels don't recognize you then go back home like it's nothing.

Right?

Oh god you were crazy enough to do all that huh. Even when the stakes of winning aren't high at all? When you could die?

Well, dying seems better than living in a hypocritical heaven that was more unfair and unkind as it seemed. Yes you love your friends and your people but.. how could the higher ups be alright with so much massacre and murder at their command, they were just like Alastor to you if anything.

You understood Charlie's cause and are willing to stand up for it.

You didn't want to become a fallen if it was possible.. but you couldn't sit here and do nothing.

You may or may not also be doing this to keep your dad safe, even though unbeknownst to you he was one of the strongest overlords in hell and was powerful as fuck, you would excuse this 'care' you have for him by saying you just want him to serve his eternal punishment for his crimes and not have the second easy way out.

"Fine. Let's get to work."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alastor was currently holding you by the hand as you both walked back to your home. It was an aggressively rainy day in New Orleans with the raindrops falling like hail, various people running or walking through the rain. You and Alastor were just strolling through with him holding up an umbrella to give you both some kind of shelter.

With you being your two year old self you couldn't help but to playfully kick the water on the ground, it irked Alastor a bit but didn't say much until you then decided to jump on a big puddle to make a huge splash.

"Now _____, I hope I don't have to ask you one more time after this. No jumping on puddles so aggressively, at least only when you're playing but right now we are getting home dear. We mustn't have you catch a cold so soon." He spoke sternly, giving you a smile to make you not feel as if he's mad at you.. at least not entirely.

"Sowy.. " you spoke, your intended word coming out differently than you intended at first but Alastor understood your baby yapping just fine.

"Good girl, just don't do it as much now."

Then you stopped doing it but you still enjoyed watching the ripples in the water.

Once you two got home Alastor took his large coat off and set it on his coat hanger, placing the umbrella in a cane holder and and kneeled down to your level to then take your own rain coat and softer coat off and hung them as well, guess just maybe he seemed to care more than he led on with how he double coated you to stay warm.

He then took off your little rain boots as well and set them beside the door, after that you then immediately skedaddled away with a smile on your face to your room. Alastor sighed as he then went to remove his shoes and set them beside the door, exchanging them for cozy slippers that were waiting for him next to your rain boots as well.. thing is you ran off before he was able to have you put on your own matching pair of fluffy slippers for the cold.

He grabbed them for you as he then headed to you room to find you, assuming you were playing he expected a mess but instead you bumped right into his legs! He looked down and saw that you covered yourself in one of your warmest blankets that he recently bought you for the raining season.

"____, dear you're dragging it on the floor." He sighed a little before picking you up and covering you well with the blanket "Let's head over now, we have some music on the radio to listen to for the rest of the day."

He walked over to the living room and set you down on the sofa. This time as you were set down he also covered the blanket around you even more.. basically turning you into a baby burrito so you'd stay extra warm. He then turned on the radio to play some more classical and softer jazzy tunes before grabbing a newspaper he set down that early morning, setting himself beside you and continuing where he left off.

Despite being trapped in the warmth you couldn't help notice something weird, odd, even to you as a toddler. "Papa.." you babbled.

"Yes, dear?" he spoke with his eyes still glued on the words on the page.

"Red..red." you continued on, wiggling an arm out to touch the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"Hm?.." he hummed as he slowly went to look at what you were pointing.

Oh..

Right, yes, red.

"Ah.. yes.. I must've bumped into paint dear don't worry about it. " he gave you a gentle pat on the head before hastily setting the paper back down again and walking over and around the sofa to head to his room "Be a good girl and stay right where you are, I'll be right back." he exclaimed while leaving.

He let out a long sigh as he then aggressively opened his closet doors to change out of his bloodied dress shirt with a large red hand print smeared on his arm sleeve.

How did he not notice that.. that was too close. You wouldn't understand but he could only hope that no other person saw it.

No one better have saw it.

You were still in your blanket cocoon, too comfortable to move out of it. Hearing the tunes only made you relax even more, oh how you loved it.. the sound of rain even made the experience better to you somehow.

"Blabla.. bleh.. pluh.." you babbled in a sing song way from all the music you listen to. You then proceeded to get bored.. easily.

You wiggled your way out of the blanket to then grab the paper that Alastor left, staring at the front page of it.

Of course you couldn't read for shit, but it's good you couldn't since it's front headline is definitely- something..

'BREAKING NEWS: LOCAL POLICE HAVE FOUND EIGHT MORE BODIES IN LOCAL RIVER BANK. COULD THIS BE NEW ORLEAN'S NEWEST BOOGEYMAN AT WORK?'

"_____, don't touch papa's things sweetheart." Alastor popped out of nowhere and gently tugged the newspaper form your tiny hands. "you can barley read as well, don't tell me you want to start reading the news at your little age." He sat beside you, his signature smile shining as always.

In the end, you snuggled closer to him and slowly felt asleep on him as he continued on reading and relaxing now.

Half an hour passed and he finished reading the paper, enjoying a few parts here and there about it. He closed the thin pages to then look down at you leaning on his side sleeping and huddled in your blanket, in peace.

Ah, how cute. He never was a huge fan of kids, in fact he would've given you away long ago at this age.

But it's small moments like these that made him want to keep you longer, the small and peaceful ones, the ones where you two bonded over things you two enjoyed equally. It's gotten to the point where almost couldn't imagine life without his daughter in it.

Oh god, he's grown soft.

This isn't him, it couldn't be. He's heartless, lacks empathy.. he really does.

But when it comes to you it's like it reverses even for a few moments.

His smile widened as he then gently grazed your head with the back of his hand to avoid waking you up.

He started to mumble to himself, "You see.. a boy would have been the son of another family, but you ______ Altruist.. shall be mine." He spoke softly, a sight to behold from Alastor who is known for anything except soft.

Oh but you were his little girl, his daughter, not by blood but unfortunately he accidentally let himself get attached and now he is proudly your father.

He won't ever admit it, even if threatened with death, but he'll always know that in his sick and dark soul his baby girl was his light. This is why he decided to never let you know about this part of himself that he indulged in without shame.

If only his mother were to see him now, she'd be so proud of Alastor that he has at least made a proper human connection. That he's given her a granddaughter.

Oh if only, only she were here now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(thank you for reading everyone! sorry if this chapter seemed a bit lazy or smth qwq I was mostly unsure of how to have alastor and the reader pop in here in there throughout the trial since I wanted to stay true to the show as well but we’ll get more of them very soon!

most likely there will be two more parts after this and it’ll be wrapped up! i will not promise an entirely happy ending for al and his kid tho😭 still deciding on it)

[halemerry]

So there’s understandably a lot out there examining the painful/emotional parts of this season, but I just wanted to take a second to acknowledge something really important that is a bit... maybe not lighter in tone but something worth celebrating.

Because like, even if he seems a bit directionless and frustrated, Crowley actually is pretty happy this season?

He’s making progress. He’s letting himself have things he wouldn’t have ever before - even if it's not exactly the thing he wants the most. He's letting himself be himself. He's not censoring instincts and impulses to nearly the same degree and it's actually pretty remarkable.

Like, okay, yes, Crowley is pretty lost now that he exists outside the toxic structure he has been operating under for millenia. And, yes his safety net with Aziraphale and the structure they operate in has also crumbled a bit because so much of that structure was built around what they were and weren’t allowed to safely do within the toxic structure. But, I actually do think this season does a lot to show that even if this struggle is very real and has consequences that aren’t all objectively good, freeing himself from that structure is a net good.

He smiles more. He laughs more. He sprawls more. He seems generally more physically relaxed and comfortable trusting his instincts without having to check everything he’s doing or saying against Hell. And this state of existence isn’t dependent on Aziraphale being present either. It’s just him being him and becoming comfortable with what that means.

And it wasn't a snap your fingers bam you're better situation either. It takes work and time to break old instincts. I mean, years have passed and we’re still struggling to let anyone say that we are nice. But significantly his instinct isn’t to snarl or physically lash out. It’s to roll his eyes or half heartedly object or maybe throw in a light growl for old times sake. And, sometimes, the instinct is to grin like a self satisfied loon as you contradict the nice human who implied you were nice.

Crowley is now in a place where his impulses to be kind are things he’s allowed to give into now and, even if he’s doing so under a veneer of snark and sneer, he is letting himself do that. He’s making sure the people around him are caring for ducks properly. He’s admitting he was worried about Aziraphale and cooing at his own car. He’s apologizing for accidentally locking people into coffee shops and openly helping them get out without even stopping to think about how maybe doing so might clue them in that he’s not quite what he seems. He's helping Shax learn her way around earth, even when she’s actively working against him and Aziraphale.

Even when interacting with Jim, who brings out the most of Crowley’s negative reactions and masks, his instincts are just as often to be gentle as they are to be angry. So long as Jim isn’t actively setting off alarm bells in Crowley’s head Crowley is so patient with him. He explains gravity unprompted and proceeds to include Jim in on his planning to get Nina and Maggie together. After his initial explosion at Jim’s presence the next two are immediately followed up by him getting upset and then backing off of Jim. He starts to threaten Jim when he’s reminded Aziraphale is in danger and then nearly immediately backs off of that, acknowledging there’s no point in it. And then, of course, after he nearly talks Jim into jumping out a window and pressures him into extracting more information from his brain he feels guilty enough to then offer Jim an act of care and service. It's such a stark difference from the guy we see even this season needing to put a layer between himself and anything good he does by either denying thanks outright or putting the blame on being under some influence.

And it’s startling how much we see him smile this season and how many different versions of that we get. From the genuine delight on his face when he thinks Operation Lovebird is working to the pleased little smirk he gives Aziraphale through the window when he watches him bring order to the arguing angels and demons in his shop, to the little smile of familiarity when he wonders what happened to Mr Dalrymple - Crowley smiles a lot compared to the first season. And it doesn't matter where he is either. He has a delightful time in Heaven, snickering and grinning to himself nearly the entire time he's prancing around there. And that’s not even getting into his dorky little snort laugh that pops up a few times throughout the season.

And I just. It’s so nice that this show doesn’t want to deny that what Aziraphale and Crowley are doing is hard but also that it doesn’t want to wallow in that struggle either. It never wants to frame that what they earned at the end of season 1 has doomed them but it isn't afraid to show the speed bumps that the system they were in is causing them on their way to happily ever after. They’re allowed to be happy. They're allowed to struggle with getting there. This is allowed to be a good thing for them, even if it sometimes takes work.

[emoangel44]

The thing I've always loved most about aa4 is how much darker the tone is than the rest of the series in a way that isn't just edgy for the sake of it, but subverts your expectations from the original 3 games in a really interesting way. The trilogy was built upon the trust Phoenix had in others, and it was something we as players could almost always feel certain in. AA4 flips this on its head and makes it so Apollo effectively can't trust anyone but himself.

Your mentor, who the in the trilogy was a paragon of wisdom you could always turn to no matter what, gets revealed to be the culprit and sent to jail in the first trial and by the end of the game his list of crimes has stacked high but you still have so few answers on why he did any of it.

Your boss, the goofy protagonist of the trilogy, is now inexplicably a washed-up, disgraced, cheating poker player with an implied drinking problem who seemingly found a new hobby in evidence forgery and jury rigging.

He has a codependent relationship with his daughter, your assistant, who usually is a completely innocent and hapless victim of circumstance. She sees herself as the provider for the house and will help her father cheat at poker, or forge evidence, or guilt trip the poor attorney they knowingly screwed of out of a job into working for them for dirt cheap.

The detective, the only other returning main character, a previous assistant, is completely changed since we last saw her. In the trilogy she was chipper and bright despite the hardships she faced, and now she's unfriendly and burned out, turned bitter by the world. The scene we're first properly introduced to her in Apollo genuinely spends several minutes thinking his boss is making him bribe her with cocaine.

Every single defendant is a criminal guilty of something other than what they're charged for. Each case centers around an underground black-market poker ring, a mafia family and medical malpractice, a smuggling ring, and a family of forgers and an incredibly shady troupe of magicians. The one thing all of these people have in common is that none of them will tell you literally anything about what's happening, half of them clearly reveling in being as big of cryptic assholes as possible.

The only person who doesn't fit this description is, for once, the prosecutor. Usually your biggest obstacle and the most morally corrupt of the main cast, he's the only person who's both 100% on the side of truth and on the same page as you for the entire game. He's just as clueless as you, being used nothing more than a chess piece just like you are.

But the truly masterful thing about AA4 is how morally grey it is. These characters aren't just one note villains. They're not even villains at all. Most of them aren't even malicious.

Your boss, for all the low levels he stoops to, is underneath it all the same guy he's always been, doing everything he can to bring a criminal to justice and protect his family. Your assistant is a sweet girl who truly cares about you, she's just prioritizing herself and her fathers safety before anything else. The detective is the same passionate and kind woman under everything else. The rest of the defendants are genuinely well-meaning young people who got involved in shady stuff they didn't fully understand.

The game is filled with good people trying to make the best of bad circumstances. The game has just as many fun moments as the original trilogy. For all it's rough appearance, the game has a similar heart. For every unanswered question or unrighted wrong, there's a smile or a hope for a better future. For every bad action, there's usually someone trying their best behind it. The game is melancholic and dark, but isn't afraid to let good shine through. It knows there's no shadows without the light.

[lenaellsi]

if you take "I can make a difference" at face value you simply must also consider "you're the bad guys.” like they are both vital aspects of aziraphale's decision. the problem is not just aziraphale's attempt to lead a corrupt system, it is also his continued belief in the superiority of heaven and angels over hell and demons. that's why crowley was so hurt. it's not just a miscommunication, or a disagreement on the practicalities of changing hearts and minds in heaven--it is a fundamental misunderstanding of morality and of crowley as a person. if crowley had asked aziraphale to come to hell to help fix it and protect the earth, he would not have gone. he says so. it’s not just about safety, or reform. it is about being Good.

and all of this happens because aziraphale is not just motivated by fear and love: he is also motivated by shame. he is insecure in his identity as an angel and a Good Guy, and both his alienation from heaven and his relationship with crowley have always aggravated this insecurity. it’s why shax’s mockery hit him so hard, and why he’s so susceptible to manipulation from the metatron. he desperately wants to be taken seriously and treated with respect and to have power and be an uncomplicated Good Guy, and that is just as much of a motivating factor in his decision as his desire to protect humanity and crowley.

and re: “appoint you to be an angel”: I know people want to insist that aziraphale has never wanted to change anything about crowley, but I’m sorry, I just don’t think that’s true. over and over in season 2 aziraphale demonstrates a desire to sand the rough edges off people and things for the sake of the Greater Good, without consideration for the free will or complex emotions of others. obviously this tendency culminates in the ball, where he exerts control over all of the humans to make everything perfect for maggie and nina, and in doing so, infringes on their autonomy and nina’s (crowley’s narrative mirror!) capacity to feel her own anger and sadness. and he has never liked that crowley is a demon. in his mind, the problem has always been that crowley was put in the wrong category, not that the entire system of dividing people and angels into Good and Bad is ridiculous. that’s the exact lesson he needs to learn.

and yes, his intentions are good, absolutely. I don’t think aziraphale ever acts out of malice, and I do think he genuinely wants the best for the people around him, particularly crowley. after all, if crowley is accepted as an angel again, as aziraphale has always secretly considered him to be, their relationship can (in his mind) finally stop being so fraught with danger and conflict. (the other side of that, of course, is that aziraphale can also stop being so ashamed for loving someone who is supposed to be Bad, and everything in his life will make sense again, the way it hasn’t since he met that star maker who got so upset about god’s plan.)

but that’s not who crowley is, and it never has been. even before he fell, crowley’s recklessness and relentless questions made aziraphale uncomfortable. their relationship has never been safe or easy, and in wanting to make it so, aziraphale is demonstrating a desire to change the parts of crowley that led to his fall, whether he intends to or not.

I’m rambling, but the point is: the insistence on reframing this moment as a purely selfless, calculated, self-sacrificing decision by aziraphale to protect crowley and the world ignores the uglier parts of the things he said in order to make their eventual reconciliation less complicated, and it’s really frustrating to me. crowley is in fact right to be upset by what he said, and it’s not just a misunderstanding that can be fixed with aziraphale saying “I was only trying to protect you!” and another kiss. it’s a culmination of all of the double think aziraphale has been doing in order to preserve his vision of heaven as The Source Of Truth And Light And Good since before the beginning of time, and it’s time for him to finally unpack it.

(and because every post on the final fifteen needs a disclaimer: aziraphale is trying his best and has an incredible amount of love in his heart and wants so badly to do good and ALSO the things he says, does, and believes can be incredibly hurtful and destructive. all of these things can be true.)

[annabelle--cane]

there is this fascinating thing that comes out in some branches of tma discourse that reveals a kind of fucky mindset that a lot of people have, and it's the idea that if an action is justified then all of its negative outcomes can be written off as negligible, or the vice versa, that if something had negative outcomes then it couldn't have been justified. I see this a lot in georgie discourse, where people can't seem to hold at once in their heads that it is completely within a person's rights to cut off a friend for the sake of their own safety and it can (and most likely will) really suck for that friend and make them feel done wrong by and abandoned while leaving them worse off with less support. the core weirdness of that awful melanie take was the idea that she didn't have the right to be traumatized or feel upset at jon for the bullet surgery because there was no other way, which is a take so antithetical to everything tma tries to express and to, like, the everyday realities of real life that it genuinely boggles my mind. really How do you end up thinking like that. I want to know.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfic prompt: Ravio and Legend have the weirdest relationship in the entire chain and it literally is the equivalent of a girl who had a perfect dream partner and then afterwards just settled for the least likely weirdo to abandon her

Like Legend definitively has no idea what a standard relationship is

It is either perfect or messy as hell with lots of issues from both sides

the chain talks about romance during a quiet moment (only the older ones over alcohol)

Time speaks about Malon and how much he loves her

Sky is not passing the opportunity to talk about Zelda

Twilight is talking about how a girl he loved left him and how he had to accept that she had left him for the safety of Hyrule

Warriors talks about some dates he had with some random women and doesn’t pass the chance to slander Cia for being a weird creep

And then Legend's turn starts

And he tells them the abridged story about how he met Ravio (because he will start crying if he has to talk about Marin)

But does it so poorly that everyone now thinks that Legend is in a relationship with a living, breathing red flag

Because who breaks into other peoples houses sets up a shop and scams you in your own god damn house

Then has the audacity to steal the weapons you were forced to rent from you if you get injured

And just rerent them to YOU

And then married you less then a month later to get a legal way to stay in Hyrule as an immigrant

And still is squatting at your house with their illegal weapons selling gig

And the only reason why you are not reporting on this madness is because you know for certain that he won’t leave you as your first lover did

Like afterwards the chain contemplated absolutely everything legend has ever done

Because his preservation skills on their adventure are not human

But he apparently sees nothing wrong with that relationship he has

Warriors already knew Ravio and his already low opinion on the scammer just dropped to below hell itself

Because no matter how much they argue Legend is his annoying younger brother who he won’t let down by letting him continue that mess of a relationship

Because Warriors knows how utterly awful such people can be and only barely escaped such a relationship himself with Cia

And now their new argument topic is about how awful Ravio seems and While Warriors is determined to make Legend see the truth about his supposedly terrible relationship

Legend not noticing that Warriors is serious about an argument for once accidentally makes it worse

Warriors: Do you think that he won't leave you if you go on adventures

Legend : he definitely won’t leave my house so no worries about that one

Warriors: ….?

Legend : I have high standards afterall

Warriors *genuinely concerned*: those are not standards that is basic decency what the actual…!?,?,”?!

Legend : he won’t even sell my stuff if he is feeling nice ,because he is a good boyfriend

Warriors: LINK WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THAT IS NOT FINE AT ALL

Legend : he also has never hurt me for no good reason so stop being hypocritical about it for no god damn reason (talking about that one time when Ravio had to slap him out of shock or when he did his stitches or similar necessary pain)

Warriors: WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK !!?!?!?,!!!?!

Legend : it didn’t even hurt that much honestly it was just a slight sting if anything

And by that point Warriors was ready to execute somebody because his brother truly says everything like it is something nice of his partner

Spoiler it was not Legend

Twilight joined as well when Legend told him how much Ravio likes bunnies and how it probably keeps their entire relationship together

Because that is just wrong to diminish someone’s abilities into just that one thing ( Legend should stop with the self depriveing jokes for his husband’s sake )

By the time the chain was in Legend's Hyrule again everyone was out for blood

[artbyblastweave]

Frederick Sinclair is a really interesting foil to Mr. House. I mean you start digging into this and it's just parallel after parallel after parallel. Start at the high level. House sinks inordinate amounts of resources into saving the city of Las Vegas - not the people, but the city- from nuclear destruction; as long as the stage endures, he can get anyone to wear the costumes. Sinclair sets up an entirely new "community" totally off-the-grid for the sake of protecting one woman, plasters that place with her likeness. House is a visionary with a 200-year action plan to rebuild society in his image, bootstrap space exploration, and construct an interplanetary empire; Sinclair sank everything he had into building the most secure facility possible for a woman who he knew was terminally ill anyway, just to ensure that her last few years lived in the aftermath of the nuclear apocalypse would be as comfortable as possible- there's a fundamental pessimism baked into what he was doing. Both House and Sinclair relied heavily on automated defensive systems and cutting-edge, esoteric technologies to accomplish their ends, but House built his power base on proprietary robotics and computing technology, much of which he personally designed- an outgrowth of his policy of never widening his circle any more than he absolutely has to. Sinclair, in his naive techno-optimism, outsourced his utopia, grabbing flashy third-party technologies like a kid in a candy store- opening a backdoor for the Think Tank to poison his city and ultimately getting everyone at the Gala Event killed when the holograms malfunctioned and went berserk.

Their management styles are inverse. House allows countless abuses to occur under his aegis because he subscribes to a libertarian-when-convenient philosophy where he doesn't much care what the little people do as long as he gets his cut and they don't rock the boat too much- a hands-off approach that fosters resentment amongst his subordinates, lets the White Gloves and Omertas get up to untold levels of fuckery while Freeside languishes and Benny conspires against him. Sinclair, by contrast, had a sincerely-held utopian-straight-edge safety-first micromanagement approach built into the very bones of the casino, he appeared to genuinely give a shit about the safety of the construction crew on the villa, and he was well-liked by nearly everyone who had any direct contact with him- and yet untold horrors also went down under his aegis, because his myopic focus on building the vault for Vera let Dean Domino and the Think Tank run circles around him, good intentions be damned. Their respective interpersonal dispassion and obsession are on display in how they react to betrayal. House's tone never rises above exasperation when it comes time to clean house of Benny, the Omerta Leadership and the White gloves; he treats them as problems to be solved, gears that are slightly out of alignment; By contrast, when Sinclair learns that Dean and Vera have been playing him, he channels the monomaniacal energy he previously directed towards protecting Vera towards the goal of building the perfect poetic-ironic death trap for her and Dean.

There are some other parallels in their personal lives. For one thing they both trusted a pastiche of a 40s lounge singer a lot more than they should have. They both tried to digitize, immortalize their girlfriends- and the discrepancy in how they went about it is telling. House's recreation of Jane isn't terribly robust, and in terms of House's overall project she's an afterthought. She's more a sock-puppet than a person, a sanded-down copy of a woman who died forever-and-a-half ago, forever agreeable, never saying no. Convenient. Only the most superficial visual elements preserved- an illustration of her face on a robotic chassis. Sinclair was obsessive in recreating Vera, preserving her likeness. It's all over the villa, her hologram is everywhere, her voice is everywhere. The terminal in the lightwave lab in Old World Blues reveals that he was still obsessed with getting her hologram right even after the love curdled into hate. All of it a monument to the real woman, and yet in all of it the real woman is still lost, buried under the mythologized projection. He didn't respect the real person enough to let her know that she was dying. A total failure of preservation from the opposite direction. (Except in the suites, where you can hear her very authentic dying pleas.)

You find both of them in their basements. House only looks a little better than Sinclair, but he's got much more of a voice in the narrative. He took steps to make sure he'd be around to tell you what he thinks about everything, fine-tuned the voice with which he speaks to the world, the face he presents. It matters to him that he gets to tell his own story. We find out a lot about House, from House; but for the kind of figure that he is, a shocking amount of what we learn about Sinclair comes from other people, people who knew him or wrote about him. The only image of him you can find is a downplayed element of a larger mosaic. The two documents you find that're written from his perspective have been buried for 200 years, and they're yards from his corpse. And the more recent of the two is an apology. I mean admittedly at the point where he wrote that apology Sinclair was personally turbofucked regardless. If the cloud didn't get him the holograms would have, or the radiation, or, or, or. You can read some level of ego into what he did in the face of that. But however futile it was, he died in the specific way that he did because he recognized that he'd done something awful, and he was trying everything he could think of to correct it. Somehow I find it very hard to imagine House doing either of those things- admitting fault or putting skin of his own in the game to make it right.

[girlrotterr]

HEADLINES☆

Bodyguard!ellie x Model!reader  Summary: After gaining more popularity in the public eye, your manager decided to hire you a bodyguard. Usually, you wouldn’t care, but this particular bodyguard, Ellie, is a cold and stubborn one, always controlling your decisions. Tonight, a big party is being thrown, but knowing Ellie, she won’t let you go. You can persuade her...right? a/n: hello angelss!! I wanted to try something different for this fic! lmk what you angels think! Had sm fun with this one <3 (especially with the dynamic!)

You sighed, frustrated with Ellie's determination. It wasn't the first time you had tried to convince her to let you attend social events. Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms.

"Ellie, come onn! I get it, you're here to protect me, but I can take care of myself too. This party is crucial for my image, and you know how important that is in my line of work," you argued, attempting to convince her. 

She narrowed her eyes, "Your image won't matter if something happens to you. You can't trust those people, and I won't let you jeopardize your safety just for the sake of appearances."

You tried a different tactic, softening your tone. "Look, I appreciate what you do, I really do!. But I need to live a little, experience things.! Besides, it's not healthy to be cooped up all the time. Let me go, Ellie, just this once!” 

Her expression remained serious, and she shook her head. "No, it's not happening. I've seen how these events turn out, and I won't let you become another headline. My responsibility is to protect you, even from yourself."

You threw your hands up in frustration. "I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions, even if they turn out mistakes."

She stayed silent for a moment, her gaze intense. "I can't let you take unnecessary risks. It's my job to keep you safe, and I won't compromise on that."

"But I got all dolled up!" you say, gesturing towards your outfit.

A smirk crept onto Ellie's face as she looked you up and down. She admired the effort you had put into your appearance, her gaze lingering for a moment. 

You had come to know Ellie's strict professionalism quite well, but there was another side to her that occasionally surfaced — a genuine appreciation for your presence. You had caught her stealing glances, subtly tracing the lines of your figure. She silently acknowledged the aura you radiated. 

When she got lost in those moments, captivated by you, it didn't escape your notice. You had become a distraction from her duties, something that seemed to drive her fucking crazy. The protector allowing herself a vulnerable moment, drawn in by you.

"Hmm... Well, I might allow it," she finally accepted, a hint of amusement in her voice, "Only if you behave well."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine, fine. I'll be on my best behavior, I promise!”

Ellie maintained her composed demeanor, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Don't make me regret this. I'll be watching, and if anything seems off, you're out of there."

You nodded, pleased with the compromise. "Deal!"

Heading towards the door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. Stepping out of the house, ellie followed closely, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a hint of nervousness, ensuring your safety remained her top priority.

fuck. The sight of Ellie in her sleek suit sent shivers down your spine, it always gave her a menacing look. 

"Hey~, with that black suit, you look like my date," you said cheekily, a playful glint in your eyes as you teased her. You loved getting under her skin. 

Ellie looked at you suspiciously, a faint blush tinting her cheeks "I'm not your date," she stated firmly, attempting to brush off your comment.

"Aww man," you exclaimed, unable to contain your giggles at her seriousness.

She rolled her eyes, hiding a hint of happiness behind her sternness. "Keep acting like that, and I'll forget the deal," she replied, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. It was her turn to be the tease now.

"Harsh!" you exclaimed, grinning as you playfully moved closer to her. 

"You're such a brat, you know that?" she said with a playful smirk.

You gasped, exaggerating your shock. "Am not!"

"Then stop acting like one," she shot back, her eyes scanning your body.

You grinned, playfully striding towards your baby pink beetle. "Not until you drop the bossy act."

Opening the car door, you hopped inside. The seats plush and adorned with soft pink cushions, the air filled with the sweet scent of strawberries.

You started the car and began driving, the engine humming as the vehicle glided through the streets. Ellie stared out the window, lost in her thoughts and taking in the passing neighborhood. The quietness of the car started feeling a bit awkward.

Sensing the silence, you reached into your purse, rummaging around until you found your favorite CD. With a grin, you popped it into the player, and your favorite song immediately filled the car with noise.

"AHH!! LOVEE THIS SONG!!" you shrieked and laughed with excitement. The energy of the music lifted the mood, filling the car with a sense of liveliness. Ellie couldn't help but crack a small smile, finding your genuine joy contagious. She smirked as she listened to the music, not exactly to her taste but enjoying the rhythm.

You started dancing in your seat, unable to contain your excitement. With a grin, you rolled down the windows, letting the wind whip through the car as you drove a little faster, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

Ellie chuckled at your antics, but her enjoyment turned to mild concern when she noticed the speed increasing.

"C-calm down. There's no need to drive so fast," she warned, her tone laced with caution.

"Ughh!! You’re a buzzkill!" you exclaimed, sticking your head out of the window, the music blaring even louder now, practically vibrating the entire car. 

"Hey! Enough seriously! " Ellie started to protest, but her words were lost in the rush of the wind and the pulsating beat of the music. 

"Ellie! Take the fucking wheel!" you suddenly exclaimed, thrusting your hands out of the window along with your head, bending your body over the window ledge. You were sexy and unstoppable, the wind blowing perfectly against your face and hair.

Ellie, although taken aback, tried not to panic. In a swift move, she grabbed the wheel, taking control of the car and attempting to steer it. The rush of wind and the blaring music was chaotic yet exhilarating. This wasn't an unusual occurrence for her; she was used to your careless and rebellious behavior. However, it always managed to take her by surprise.

You stopped and took the wheel once again, closing the windows and slowing down as Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. "We're here!" you giggled excitedly, undoing your seatbelt and hopping out of the car, with Ellie following behind you.

Approaching the grand mansion, you marveled at its luxury. It stood tall and stunning, illuminated by soft lights against the night sky. Beautiful gardens surrounded it completely.

You walked towards the entrance, excitement building with each step. As you opened the door, you were suddenly greeted by a woman.

"You made it!" she exclaimed.

“I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" you responded.

The lady, still smiling, welcomed you inside with a gesture. “Come on in!” she exclaimed, holding the door open.

As you entered, you turned and waved for Ellie to come along.

Ellie followed behind you. As she looked around, her amazement grew. The party inside was anything but average. The upbeat music filled the air as people danced energetically, drinks flowed freely, and couples were intimately occupied on couches and stairs. She even noticed some people snorting drugs in the bathroom.

Turning towards Ellie, you leaned in and whispered, "Psst, a secret! I didn't even know that lady..."

Ellie laughed softly at your secret. "Really? She seemed to know you, though," she replied.

“I mean, my face is practically everywhere!”

"It must be weird, though. Having people recognizing you and praising you for your beauty. It's quite a big responsibility, isn't it?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Do you sometimes feel overwhelmed by the attention?"

“No, I get the fascination,” you replied, walking over to grab a soda.

"It's pretty funny how unfazed you are," she replied with a smile. “I have to admit, it’s fucking admirable.”

“Aw, don't flirt with me so obviously now,” you teased, grinning as you took a sip of your soda.

Ellie felt her cheeks flush at your remark, catching her off guard. "It's fucking hard not to," she replied, unable to take her gaze away from yours.

“You listen well; you dropped the bossy act,” you teased, playfully bumping your shoulder into hers.

“Fucking try me,” Ellie scoffed, leaning into your ear.

"I'm too busy dancing!" you said, playfully walking away from Ellie.

Approaching a woman who had clearly been checking you out since you entered. With a confident smile, you asked her if she wanted to dance, and she eagerly agreed. Taking her hand, you led her to the dance floor.

As Ellie observed, jealousy played across her face. She had never seen you dance, and she had to admit, she fucking loved it. It was hard for her not to envy the woman dancing with you. Despite being your bodyguard, she found herself unable to tear her eyes away. She wanted to fucking savor it.

The woman continued to get closer to you, too close for Ellie. She felt her anger rise, clenching her fists tightly, nails digging into her palms. She turned her head from side to side, attempting to release the tension building up. Suddenly you pulled the woman in for a kiss, a smile spreading across your face.

Ellie's jaw tightened.

You handed the woman a piece of paper containing your phone number before walking away, heading towards Ellie with exhaustion in your steps.

“Ugh, I need water!!” you exclaimed, your legs giving out from dancing.

"You seem pretty tired," she remarked, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, she's been eyeing me the moment I walked in!” you exclaimed, taking a seat on a nearby stool. “I thought I'd give her a chance, and she did not disappoint.”

"Do you just give anyone a chance when they look at you with desire?" she questioned sternly, her tone cold. The jealousy was consuming her, and she was struggling to keep her emotions in check.

“Why does it matter to you?” you asked, genuinely surprised that she cared.

Ellie had to admit, you were right. She was just your bodyguard; it shouldn’t matter to her.

Suddenly, the woman approached you, handing you a beer. "Sorry for exhausting you, princess," she said, only fueling Ellie's jealousy further.

"Princess...? What the fuck," Ellie replied, her anger building up.

The woman looked at Ellie with confusion and scoffed. "And you are..?"

Ellie felt her stomach sink as she met the woman's gaze with a cold, sharp glare. "I'm her bodyguard," she stated firmly, her tone conveying her authority. "It's my job to make sure nothing happens to her. And from what I've seen, you're getting way too close for my liking."

The woman chuckled arrogantly. "Yeah? Well, I don't give a fuck," she replied, smirking as she put her arm around your shoulder.

Ellie had reached her limit. The audacity of this fucking woman,

"Don’t fucking touch my client," Ellie threatened coldly, maintaining a sharp look.

Unfazed, the woman put her beer down aggressively. "What're you going to do?!?" she challenged, now getting closer to Ellie. She was testing limits and crossing lines, pushing Ellie to the edge.

"Hey! Stop it!" you exclaimed, stepping in between Ellie and the woman. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Causing unnecessary shit."

Bothered, the woman picked up her beer and threw it at you, the liquid soaking your hair and dress. "Fucking bitch.." she muttered angrily, beginning to walk away. 

You stood there, now with beer dripping from you, frustration and disbelief on your face. 

You let out a scoff, your frustration boiling as you lunged at the woman. Your anger fueled your movements as you tackled her to the ground, pinning her beneath you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you unleashed a blow of punches, each blow landing with force on her face. The sound of your fists meeting her bloodied nose, the woman grunting in pain. She had no fucking chance. 

Ellie watched the scene before her, her eyes widening as she witnessed. 

The people at the party even began crowding around, watching and recording with excitement. The situation had spiraled out of control. With the woman's face bloodied and bruised, her right eye swollen shut, you smudged your face with hers, rubbing the beer she had thrown at you onto her face.

“cunt.”  You muttered, finally standing up, your knuckles completely stained in red.

You began walking towards the door, the crowd following right behind you. Ellie, still standing near the door, was fucking stunned. Completely speechless. 

You opened the door and headed towards your car. Fastening your seatbelt, you yelled out the window, "ELLIE, GET THE FUCK IN HERE!!" 

Ellie jolted as she quickly made her way to the car. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment from the crowd's whispers and stares. You swerved, aligning the passenger seat with the main entrance. Lowering the window, it allowed ellie to jump into the seat through it. However, not giving her time to fully get in, you accelerated quickly with half of her body still hanging outside. 

“wait, wait, wait!!” Ellie exclaimed loudly, her eyes shut tight as she desperately gripped onto the seat. “You’re fucking crazy!!” she yelled. 

You were definitely making the headlines again. 

[yurozo]

resident evil headcanons (restaurant au)

characters: leon, chris, jill, claire, rebecca, ada, luis, carlos, wesker. a/n: this was created as a joke between me and my friends that completely spiralled out of control. maybe the stupidest au i've ever created. wesker and friends hit me up if you wanna use this warnings: vulgar language. sorry, i'm canadian, we swear a lot here.

chris redfield (bartender): he's one of the first hires, and has been working as the head bartender forever. he absolutely loves to lowkey trauma dump on customers unknowingly, only to shake the mixer after just to avoid the awkward silence. the owner has had to move the tv's out of the way of the bar because chris will only look at the screen and fuck up every single drink during a big game. refuses leon everytime he tries to come up to the bar for drinks. he knows when it's him, leon always tries to input it in the system as a customer order for a table that isn't occupied, but he always orders his whiskey in a very specific way that outs him. chris will pour it out in front of him to make a point. he eventually had to make a memo about not letting leon take drinks from the bar anymore. to customers, he is every older woman's wet dream. he knows that flexing his biceps will rake him in more tips, so he does it often. also does it when women are being hit on by creepy men to scare them away. the night that he wears tight turtlenecks are his big paycheck days. chris will never admit that he likes when people squeeze his arms. chris is the guy that everyone has a crush on when they first start working there, it's basically an initiation rite at this point. he's the friendliest one of the bunch and gives wholesome big bro vibes and it makes him absolutely irresistible to new hires. (x reader) if you're working alongside chris in the bar, prepare to constantly run into him. he's a massive guy, and maneuvering around a little bar with that hunk is near impossible without a couple collisions. after a while, he's learned to put a gentle hand on your back whenever he has to move behind you, all for the sake of "workplace safety". he loves to sneak food from the kitchen and share it with you, but this man eats like a horse. like the chefs are genuinely surprised on how much food this man can physically fit inside his body, but he will always leave a portion for you. it takes him a long time to make a move because he's afraid of ruining your friendship and workplace relationship. leon kennedy (server): he got hired a little after everyone else, and got put onto the waitstaff because of his looks. however, this man is super awkward with patrons despite being super popular with older women. he's always getting propositions to get set up with someone's daughter and he always unknowingly shoots them down. (customer: "you're really cute, leon: "ok.") he always makes little jokes to lighten the mood and it is an instant vibe killer. the only people who like them are the old ladies who think he's cute, and dads who genuinely think he's funny.

as for the whiskey incident, leon has tried multiple times to pretend being a bartender when chris is on break to sneak himself a drink. he claims that it makes him better at serving, but three broken trays and countless shattered glasses say otherwise.

leon does have kind of a blank expression when patrons try and get him to cut them deals or do stuff for them. he will immediately go back and scream by himself in the freezer after a difficult customer interaction. has cried silently in the freezer after food got in his hair. (x reader) leon always smells like american crew hair pomade, and always showers himself in cologne on shifts he knows he's working with you. you smiled at him one time in the middle of a rush and he had to sit on the curb to collect himself. leon has a horrible tendency to get distracted whenever you're in his general vicinity, and will completely ignore customers whenever you walk by with literal hearts in his eyes. he's one of the fastest people to make a move, mostly because he lacks any form of subtlety. he always offers to drive you home, always offers to take you out to dinner after work like you already don't work in food service, and always keeps something in his bag for you. he loves to lowkey fuck with you on shifts, like putting an ice cube down your shirt to make you pay attention to him. jill valentine (hostess):

another og worker, and the most no-nonsense of them all, especially with customers. if the wait time is thirty minutes, then you're waiting thirty goddamn minutes. she does not care who you supposedly know. she has gotten a couple writeups for visibly rolling her eyes when large parties come in without a reservation. jill demands a break every thirty minutes to sit with chris on the curb while he smokes a cigarette. she calls it her mental health breaks.

pointedly does not listen to leon when he asks her to stop seating people in her section. her favourite past-time is to seat all the old women obsessed with him at his tables to watch him flounder. also gives leon's number out to people who try and hit on her at the job. she's also the only person who can scare the owner, so jill gets away with a lot more than most people. her and carlos often hang out after shifts to drink beer and play pool. her and claire have regular girls nights where jill's convinced into facemasks and terrible movies that only have a one star rating on whatever pirated movie website claire pays for. (x reader) every attempt you make to ask her on a date goes completely over her head. it's only at chris' intervention that she finally gets the hint and takes you out to dinner. she ends up having her own shelf of stuff at your apartment within a week, and she's more than happy to drive you to work everyday. if you have a pet, prepare for jill to come over to spoil it rotten and feign ignorance when you confront her about it. another victim of the 'takes extra long to get ready on shifts you work together'. she knows you like her arms, so she's wearing short sleeves or tanks whenever she has the opportunity, and silently preens in your attention. carlos, (line cook):

without a doubt, the line cooks are the vibe bringers of the restaurant. carlos always takes a hit off his dab pen before coming in, because he claims it makes his cooking taste better. he always gives food to the female servers at any given opportunity, and pretends to not know what the male servers are talking about when they bring it up. (is the reason for 90% of the memos regarding workplace behaviour).

carlos always smells like old spice and food, and there is almost nothing that could break his good mood during a shift. he really is just happy to be there. he's very particular on how the freezer is organized, but loved to label the items wrong to piss off the others (spinch). his mother taught him how to cook, so he has a dedicated dish named after her. carlos always comps her meals when she comes in and doesn't tell anybody about it.

as for the other employees, carlos torments them. he loves to play his own music in the kitchen but has a wildly inappropriate taste for work music. chris banned him from the speaker officially after only playing doja cat for three hours. however, him and luis love to carpool and play brazilian funk with all the windows rolled down at max volume. those two are not allowed to work together too much. he also has a mobile game rivalry with leon, so anytime carlos is missing from the kitchen, you'll find him in the bathroom on his phone. just follow the shitty iphone game music.

(x reader) in all honesty, carlos is the man that's hooked up with the most employees. the mans charm is undeniable. but he has a particular soft spot when it comes to you-- you get to taste-test every dish, there's always a nice cold glass of water waiting for you, and carlos will take the fall for every fuckup at your table. he'll introduce you to his mom when she comes in, but is secretly terrified at how well the two of you get along. don't even get him started on bringing his siblings into the place, he would never hear the end of it. carlos received another memo after engaging in too much pda at work after the two of you got together.

claire redfield (waitress):

one of the main reasons for all the positive google reviews. it's not that she's naturally a super bubbly person, but claire knows how to turn it on and off when her shift starts. jill puts most of the families in her section since claire has a natural gift with kids. however, she is extremely biased when it comes to the food. her face always tells you exactly what she thinks of a dish.

since chris is always within eyesight of her, whenever difficult customers give her problems, she loves to sic chris on them. even just having him stand behind her is enough to give her leverage over someone trying to haggle on a bill. and with carlos' willingness to give food to pretty girls, she never goes hungry during a shift. the girl has her whole shift figured out on a system. she also knows exactly when the lull in service is going to be so she can take extended bathroom breaks.

out of everyone, she's the one to organize after-work hangouts, whether by putting gentle reminders into the group chat, or straight up bullying people to come (ie. jill). everyone always knows when she pulls up from the sound of her engine, but she refuses to let anyone on it. especially luis or leon, for insurance reasons.

(x reader) this girl has the uncanny ability to know what you need, and when you need it. forgot an iced tea for table 20? it's already in her hand on the way. it's her nice little way of showing what a good girlfriend she would be, that she can anticipate your needs. for every group hangout, you are the first person she texts and the primary benefactor of the tips she makes. claire is a no bullshit kind of woman, and when she wants you, you will know. she'll always ask you to hang out, always compliment how you look, tell you constantly how good you are at your job. maybe she'll let you ride behind her on the motorcycle just for the excuse of having your arms around your waist, and does that hot thing where she rubs your arms with her thumb at red lights.

rebecca chambers (head waitress):

dear old rebecca, truly the glue holding everything together. she's incredibly sweet to customers, and to most of the employees. the only reason the floor runs properly is her by the book attitude and highly perceptive personality. nothing is getting by rebecca. she's leon's number two nemesis for being able to drink on the job, and chris' number one nemesis for smoking outside. this woman has the nose of a bloodhound when someone is about to do something stupid.

despite her appearance, everyone is afraid to make her angry. she's lost her shit a total of one time, but it was enough for everyone to be on their best behaviour. she does have a tendency to make passive aggressive comments with such a sickly sweet smile on her face, that you won't even realize she insulted you until long after she's walked away.

least favourite part of the job? she is a hit with old men. they can never leave her alone. second least favourite part? finding ways to sneak vitamins into certain employees food so they can live to see another day. the way that some of the others operate is enough to give her grey hairs.

(x reader) rebecca is intelligent and ambitious, and more than willing to make sacrifices when it comes to you. she's more than happy to take the fall on a screwup if it gets you out of it, wanting nothing more than your smile in return. her main tactic of getting to know you is inviting you over to watch movies, inconspicuously of course, so she can ask you questions over the whole thing. overall, she's an acts of service girl, but is much more subtle about it than claire is. you need a meal prep plan? she's your woman. she wants nothing more than to take care of you, to make your life as easygoing as possible. but the true way to her heart is any form of baked goods. if you make a habit of bringing her pastries before a shift, she's putty in your hands.

ada wong, (head chef):

this woman, god help her, has the hardest job out of them all. not only does she have to babysit her two line cooks, but she's also responsible for cleaning up all the fuckups the waitstaff make. her saving grace is the fact that everyone else is terrified of her, creating a wide berth every time she picks up a knife. everyone can always hear her scolding carlos in the kitchen, who just brushes it off with a laugh.

despite the chaos of a kitchen, ada has the impeccable ability to never get food on herself. even after the dinner rush there is not a single hair out of place, looking just as perfect as when she started. every ingredient is measured precisely, every fda standard met and upheld-- pretty much the counterforce to carlos and luis. secretly, she loves when carlos has control of the speaker, but she would rather die than admit it.

the second an overcomplicated modification comes in, the temperature of the kitchen immediately drops. why the hell does she pore over a menu just for some middle-aged man to think he knows better than her? despite her no-nonsense attitude, she does secretly love fucking with leon. only luis knows about her secret tinder account that she catfished leon on with some fake woman in romania.

(x reader) ada is a woman in tune with herself, in tune with what and who she wants. the second she gets attached, she will display clear favouritism. every new recipe she tries is given to you for taste-testing, claiming that you will always give her the truth. it's a lie, she just like seeing the grin on your face when you enjoy it. if anyone asks her about it, she will vehemently deny it, claiming that you're the only one competent enough at your job. her asking you out is more of a demand than it is a question: this place, this time, wear that dress you know i like. she's not huge fan of pda at the workplace, but she'll always give you that look that screams, just wait until i get my hands on you later.

luis sera (line cook):

this man does not operate on a recipe, he operates on la pasion. really, it just means the foods always a tad spicier than it should be. he also sings obnoxiously loud in the kitchen, to the point that patrons can hear it if they're seated close enough. this man obeys ada for the most part, but he's honestly never touched a measuring cup in his life. he'll stop pouring when his ancestors tell him to stop pouring. however he has the uncanny ability to know exactly when meat is within three degrees of whatever temp they need it cooked to.

the waitstaff either love him or hate him. luis playfully flirts with everyone in his line of sight. who could blame him? he's stuck in a kitchen all day and everyone at this restaurant is unbearably attractive. mostly, he just likes seeing their reactions. leon adamantly begs claire to fetch his plates from the kitchen for him, because luis calls him prince charming every time, and leon hates it.

there's a rumour going around that he got drunk after a shift and made out with another employee, but no one knows who it is. there's a restaurant-wide betting pool on potential victims. also, since luis is the only person who knows about the catfish incident, he loves to ask leon innocuous question while feigning innocence about the whole thing. he's just really invested in his love life, he swears.

(x reader) if you think the flirting is bad towards leon, just wait until he catches an eyeful of you. it is a nonstop barrage of witty compliments, offers to go dancing (or clubbing), and pick-up lines that were definitely picked up off the internet. he's a suave guy, don't get me wrong, but he most definitely gets too many of his ideas from old romance novels. at some point he gives up, telling you straight that he wants to take you out, for reals, and cook you a nice home-cooked meal. maybe some wine. maybe more, if you'll let him. luis is another person who displays clear favouritism, and tries to convince ada into naming a dish after you. it has a horribly cheesy name, but it tastes wonderful and he loves shooting you a wink every time you see him making it (he always makes that dish more carefully than any of the others).

wesker (manager):

this man bought the damn place in a last ditch attempt to save himself from bankruptcy, and unknowingly entangled himself into the lives of the dumbest twenty year olds he's ever met in his life. the only person that he kind of tolerates is ada, because she runs that kitchen like it's the military, and he can respect how batshit terrifying she is. he has a particular vendetta against chris for reasons he can't name, but since chris brings in a lot of money, he can't really refuse. he mostly gets that frustration out by pinning things on chris that leon most definitely did.

he's rarely seen on the actual floor, usually just hanging in the back on the computer doing whatever the fuck he does. (he's playing farmville, but no one knows it's him because of a pseudonym. he also does not know how to turn the music off so if you stand at the right position outside the door you can hear it.)

when he is seen out on the floor, he's wearing the most obnoxious sunglasses and leather jacket known to man, and stalks around the bar to watch for mistakes. you know you fucked up around wesker when there's a sneer on his face. the place almost got robbed once, and wesker threw a punch so fast that everyone stopped trying to piss him off after that.

(x reader) truthfully, he doesn't act too much different around you. it takes months to catch onto the little quirks that show his softness-- just a slight ease in his eyebrow, a softer pitch when addressing you directly. he'll still chew you out for mistakes, but he forgets about it long before he'll let anyone else slide. if things did eventually progress between the two of you, that manager's office is staying locked.

thank y'all for reading! this ended up being way longer than i thought it was going to be lol.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

you're a mean one, mr. miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and ellie decide the solution to joel's grinch-like approach to the holidays lies in finding him the perfect gift

warnings: jackson era, grumpy old man!joel, significant other!reader, fluff, mild angst, gift giving, christmas at the miller's, so many polaroids

word count: 3.8k

12 days of pedro masterlist - ty to @hellishjoel for organizing this project <3

The Miller household always gets a little tense around the holidays. When the days shorten and snow begins to fall, Joel throws himself into patrols and plans for winter-proofing Jackson, and it's all he'll talk about for months. It's obvious he does it on purpose. 

Christmas is basically an unspoken no-no under his roof, and there might as well be a swear jar for the word if his reaction is any indication. He refuses to acknowledge it and only tolerates the day itself because he knows it makes you and Ellie happy. 

You just wish it made him happy, too. You know it used to. Every year, Tommy regales stories about their Christmases in Austin as kids, and later with Sarah. Joel loved Christmas. 

They used to visit the tree farm, pick the tallest, fullest tree they could fit in their living room, and decorate it the very same day. Their attic and even parts of their garage were home to lights and tinsel in every color you could think of, and ornaments Sarah brought home from art classes and the yearly holiday fair at school.

All of that changed after the outbreak. It wasn't just her passing that did it. It wasn't even the threat of death or worse lurking around every corner. It was time. 

Joel just got used to life without it. After 22 years of missed holidays, he decided he didn't actually miss them at all. He couldn't afford to spare precious resources or energy on anything that wasn't necessary for survival. But that isn't the point of Christmas, is it? 

You celebrate your loved ones and their joy. You celebrate life. Here in Jackson, he finally has all of that, but if Joel is anything, he's a stubborn man set in his ways. You can tell he's still resistant to the idea because he genuinely believes there are better uses for his time.

You can also tell he's afraid to let his guard down. You just haven't figured out a way to show him he doesn't have to be. No one's safety is guaranteed in the world you live in, but you're protected now. And that responsibility isn't solely on him anymore.

If you could give him anything for Christmas this year, it would be peace. One day, even just a few hours of tensionless shoulders and a wrinkle-free brow would be a gift for all of you. He deserves to enjoy something merry and cheerful again, just for the sake of it.  

So, you ask the person who knows him best in the world for help.

"What do we think about getting Joel a Christmas gift this year?"

Ellie glances up from her guitar with the most incredulous look you've ever seen on her face. 

"Depends. Do you have a death wish?" she jokes, draping her arm over her instrument so she's sitting more comfortably. She's settling in—you both know this is about to be a painful conversation.

"No, but—," you sigh, leaning against the door behind you. It's still chilled, even through your coat, from when you barged into the shed and interrupted her practice. "I don't know. He wouldn't make that big of a deal, would he? It doesn't have to be anything flashy, just something small. Something nice."

"So, you wanna get Joel something nice for a holiday he hates? That makes total sense," she says, rolling her eyes.

You don't appreciate the sarcasm, but you expected it. She knows as well as you do that Joel won't be thrilled by the gesture, if he even accepts it.

"El, come on. I could really use your help here," you try to appeal to the part of her that usually can't say no to you, and thankfully she's starting to cave. "If there's anyone who can come up with a present Joel will actually like, it's you."

She sighs. Her fingers drum an arrhythmic beat on the wood grain while she thinks, a habit she must've picked up from Joel.

"Look, Joel's not really a 'thing' kinda guy," she replies, and she's probably right. He's never been the kind of guy who has physical attachments. "When's the last time he actually gave a shit when something broke or got lost? Even his watch is broken."

"Yeah, but that's different. You know it's different," you counter softly. But you can see the point she's trying to make. "Okay, so we don't get him a 'thing'."

She nods, waiting for you to offer another idea, but you're even more stumped than you were when you got here. 

"Maybe you can draw him something?" you grimace, grasping at straws now.

"His house is full of shit I've drawn," she deadpans. "Plus, I thought this was an us gift. That sounds like a 'me doing all the work' gift."

You let out a frustrated groan, and your head thunks dully against the door. You knew this wasn't going to be an easy task, but you thought it would at least be possible. Joel's a complicated man—it's one of the things you love most about him—but his wants and needs are surprisingly simple. 

He loves a home-cooked meal, especially meat and potatoes. He enjoys cold beers with Tommy on the porch during the summer and walking Ellie through complicated picking patterns when she's stuck on a song. He likes relaxing on the couch and watching old Westerns or cheesy action movies, and craves your body, soft and pliant, under his after a frustrating day on patrol.

But you want this to mean more than any of that. A special something that goes beyond the norm to loosen some of the springs that keep him wound up tight and constantly in motion. 

You glance around Ellie's space as your hope begins to dwindle, and the corkboard above her bed catches your eye. It's always been there, covered in doodled-on scrap paper and photos of her family and friends, and you're positive you've seen it hundreds of times since you've been in Jackson. But this time, it gives you an idea. The idea.

"That Polaroid camera you found in Eugene's basement—the one in the library. Does it work?"

Ellie's brows furrow at your sudden question. She clearly didn't expect it, but you're hoping she'll be on board once she finally catches on.

"Uhh, yeah, Cat and I were messing around with it the other day. Worked pretty well for us," she replies hesitantly, pointing at the entertainment console next to you. "It's next to the PlayStation."

Humming in response, you squat in front of the shelf to inspect it. It's in great condition, even better than you expected. Even the flash button lights up and whirs just like you remember. 

Before she can protest, you whip around and snap an extremely candid, brightly lit photo of her. If the look on her face is the same one you just caught on film, then you're already off to a great start.

"Dude, what the fuck? What was that for?" she groans in annoyance, blinking the bright spots out of her vision.  

"A scrapbook," you grin. "For Joel."

She's still glaring at you as she rubs her eyes, but she bites back whatever retort she was about to say. You watch her expectantly as she chews on the idea, relief blooming in your chest when she finally nods.

"I guess that could work," she says slowly, still thinking over the logistics in her head. But then she frowns. "When exactly did you plan on taking all those photos? Not to be a downer, but Christmas is in like, a week."

Damn, she's right again. It'll be hell in a handbasket to fill an entire scrapbook in that amount of time, and even if you manage it, it'll be a half-assed attempt at best.

No, if you're going to do this, then you're going to do it right. No rushed or slapstick presents for the man who already hates Christmas—Joel deserves better than that.

"What if we let Joel do his bah-humbug thing one last time? That's probably his idea of a perfect gift, anyway. Then next year, it'll be this," you hand her the fully-developed Polaroid.

It shows Ellie hugging the guitar Joel made for her, but there's no sign of the shocked annoyance that followed the camera flash. Instead, she's smiling. She has that rare, unguarded expression on her face, the one reserved only for people she trusts. It's a tender moment of peace, forever frozen in time.

She looks up at you, and you can see it in her eyes. She gets it, now.

"You do realize it's still a 'thing' present though, right?" she interjects playfully, and you have to resist the urge to grab the wood polishing cloth on the table next to you and swat her with it.

"Yeah, but it's a sappy thing. Admit it, Joel's a huge sap and you know it. You said it yourself, his house is basically a glorified fridge with your art magnetized to the walls."

She rolls her eyes again, but you can see the smile tugging at her lips. She knows it's true.

"So, you'll help me?" you ask, daring to hope that she'll agree.

"As long as you don't pull this shit again, I'll do whatever you want," she lifts the Polaroid, shooting you a dirty, but affectionate look before handing it back to you.

A grin breaks out across your face, and you bolt across the room to hug her awkwardly around the instrument still sitting in her lap. She places it down so she can wrap her arms around you properly. 

Physical affection has never really been Ellie's thing but if you catch her at the right moment on the right day, you might get lucky. Today, you do.

"So, when do we get started?" she asks, pulling away.

"Right now," you reply, unable to contain your excitement. For the first time in over two decades, Joel Miller might actually have a merry Christmas, and that's something to celebrate. 

"Now?" she gapes at you, looking over her shoulder longingly at her guitar as you drag her out of the shed. She barely has enough time to grab a coat before you're out in the cold with nothing but each other, a camera, and a plan.

"Now." 

ONE YEAR LATER

Jackson in the spring is one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen, even among your memories of the world pre-outbreak. Snow remains on the mountain peaks in the distance, but the foliage below blooms with the promise of warmer weather. Somehow, you managed to capture it all—fresh flowers in the shop windows, friends and neighbors shedding their coats and congregating in the streets, and the post-winter excitement that spreads more and more with each sunny day. 

You hid the stack of photographs in an empty jumbo box of tampons in the hall closet, positive they’d be safe from Joel’s prying eyes while you and Ellie continued your mission.

In the summer, two new foals were born, and Ellie and Maria spent almost every day at the stables to help out where they could. They even named them—Shimmer was Maria’s choice, and Ellie named the other Callus just to piss off Joel. Not only did it work, but it resulted in some of the cutest pictures of the season. 

Joel and Tommy built a porch swing for Maria and their rambunctious toddler and spent countless balmy nights drinking Tommy's extra-strength whiskey and shooting the shit. They even broke out their guitars every so often and managed to bully Ellie into playing with them once or twice. You caught that on camera, too. 

Slowly but surely, the memory box filled up, and the photos were transferred to a scrapbook you and Ellie made yourselves—with a little local help. One of the school teachers happened to be a former librarian with a bookbinding hobby, and graciously gave you a treasure trove of old, tattered books that were perfect for your project. 

By autumn, everything was falling into place. Ellie adorned those pages with painted leaves in shades of red, orange, and yellow to complement the photos you took at the town’s annual Harvest Festival and Thanksgiving potluck. You hopped around from booth to booth, table to table, and thanked your lucky stars that Eugene was a hoarder and held onto every pack of film he found over the years.

Now, it's the night before Christmas and you have a single shot left. One last photo intended for the final page, but you can’t think of anything you haven’t already documented. Looking around Tommy’s living room, there are plenty of moments you’d love to capture, and yet none of them feel like the moment. 

How the Grinch Stole Christmas plays in the background while you sit on their couch, curled into Joel’s side with Ellie’s head on your lap, but you’re barely paying attention, still lost in your thoughts. Joel isn’t paying attention, either—he was unsurprisingly averse to the movie to begin with—so when you don’t laugh along with everyone else at the Grinch’s antics, he immediately knows something’s up. He kisses your temple, careful not to jostle Ellie.

“What’s got you so in your head you’re not even laughin’ at Jim Carrey? I thought you loved this movie,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. His familiar Southern twang somehow warms you up more than the fireplace crackling next to the television. 

“I do. I think I’m just getting a little sleepy, is all,” you reply softly, sagging into him. “Winter dance prep sucked this week. It’s like everyone conveniently forgot they volunteered to help.”

He nods, mumbling an apology into your hair.

“Guess that makes sense. All that runnin’ around you’ve been doing with that camera of yours probably ain’t helpin’ either,” he says offhandedly, and your brows furrow in response.

It’s not the first time he’s mentioned your sudden interest in photography, but with his gift sitting less than 10 feet away under Tommy and Maria’s Christmas tree, it seems more than a little suspicious. You catch Ellie glancing up at you in your peripheral, and you meet her gaze as discreetly as you can.

“Yeah, maybe,” you laugh it off, hoping it doesn’t sound as tense to Joel’s ears as it does to yours.

“What are you doin’ with all of those photos anyway? I swear, you take ‘em and then they disappear into thin air,” he presses on, none the wiser.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you joke, shaking your head as if that’ll shake off all of his incoming questions. But it doesn’t work nearly as well as you hoped.

“Y’know, I was wonderin’ that myself,” Tommy interjects from the recliner to your right. “You’ve been takin’ photo after photo for almost a year, and I don’t think I’ve seen a single one.”

Maria scoffs next to him, coming to the rescue before you’re forced to come up with a believable explanation. 

“Mind your own damn business,” she smacks him in the chest, then shoots you a sympathetic look. 

You asked for her help not long after you and Ellie started planning Joel’s gift, so she knows how important this is. The last thing she’s going to do is let her husband’s need to stir the pot ruin it. But Tommy’s not the type of guy to give in that easily.

“I’m just sayin’, might be nice take a look at ‘em. You probably got some good ones of the kids in there, ‘specially from birthdays and holidays—,” he manages to get out before Ellie cuts him off.

“Can you guys have this conversation somewhere else? Some of us are actually trying to watch the movie,” she sits up from her spot on your lap to glare in his direction. 

Then, Tommy abruptly stands like something just occurred to him and strides across the room to the mantle above the fireplace—right where you set the camera down earlier. Your heart leaps into your throat. 

“Hold up. This thing’s still got one shot left, don’t it?” he asks excitedly, and you’re not sure how to shut him down without drawing too much attention to yourself or sounding mildly hysterical.

“Well, yeah, but—“

“Oh shit, s’got a timer and everythin’,” he continues, fiddling with its limited settings. He turns back towards the rest of the group and holds up the camera with a grin. “C’mon, everybody get together. We’re takin’ our first official Christmas card photo.”

“But, Tommy—,” you try again, but you’re drowned out by Joel’s sad attempt to leave the room.

“Look, I said I’d watch the movie, but I sure as hell didn’t agree to take a damn Christmas photo,” he grumbles, moving to stand, but you latch onto his flannel before he gets too far. He softens at your downtrodden expression and settles back in.

“Just to be clear, m’doin this for her, not for you,” he amends his previous statement gruffly, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You kiss his cheek gratefully, and Ellie pretends to gag as she shuffles to sit between your legs.

“Whatever you say, big brother. All you gotta do is sit there and look pretty. Think you can handle that?” Tommy teases him, making one final adjustment to the camera's placement. “Alright y’all, here we go.”

He sets the timer, then runs to the couch, squishing into the only available spot between Maria and an armrest. Everyone huddles together with varying levels of smiles and grimaces on their faces while you wait for the camera to go off. Except, it doesn't.

“Wait, how long did you set the timer for?” you peer around Maria to see Tommy looking genuinely dumbfounded.

“…Does it not just go 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, shoot?” he asks sheepishly.

"Oh my god, are you kidding me?" Ellie groans, leaning back against you, and the entire couch bursts out laughing. 

And in that moment, the flash goes off.

Yeah, this is the one.

The photo in your hands feels like the culmination of every memory you made and preserved in the past year. Five faces—and one tiny sleeping one—look up at you, fully developed and as happy as you've ever seen them.

Tommy and Maria sit side by side with their son in her lap, their heads thrown back in laughter. Next to them, Ellie sits between your legs, mid-knee slap, as you cackle with your chin resting on top of her head.

And then there's Joel, grinning from ear to ear as he looks on at the family he's fought so hard to protect. The family that's safe and sound, and enjoying an ordinarily special day, just for the sake of it. You can only hope that a book full of photos and everything it represents will be enough to convince him once and for all that it's the truth.

As you slide the final Polaroid into place, Joel sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"What's all this?" he watches curiously as you close the book and swipe your hand lovingly across the cover. Then, you pick it up and turn in his embrace, leaning back against the kitchen counter. 

"A gift," you reply carefully, hugging it to your chest. 

You glance over to where Ellie's still sitting in the living room, but she shakes her head and offers you a small smile, her delicate way of telling you that you're on your own. You take a deep breath before continuing.

"It's a Christmas present from me and Ellie," you explain, hoping to convey even a fraction of what this means to you. "Look, we know this isn’t necessarily your favorite day, but...we still wanted to do something nice for you."

He nods, his expression frustratingly unreadable. But then he does something unexpected.

"Y'gonna keep huggin' it or are you gonna show it to me?" he drawls jokingly, and your brows shoot up in shock.

"You wanna see it?" 

His face falls, and you immediately feel terrible at the brief wave of hurt that crosses his features. You didn't mean to sound so surprised, but you didn't anticipate this easy acceptance.

"'Course I do. The two of you spent a whole year workin' on this thing, why wouldn't I?"

That grin you know he loves lights up your entire face, and you turn to place his gift back on the counter. Flipping to the first page, you step aside and let him explore it for himself.

He takes in each moment of each season slowly, running his fingers across Ellie's doodles between photos and in the margins. Spring is framed by butterflies that you're somehow just realizing are painted in all of Sarah's favorite colors. 

Ellie added so many painstaking details you'd never talked about. You're not even sure how she knew something like that, but you're grateful it's there. Joel notices it too, and reaches down to take your hand, gripping it tightly for the rest of the book. 

He's silent as flips through summer and fall, and when he finally reaches winter, you feel him begin to tremble beside you. 

The last page sits open in front of you, the photo from earlier flanked on either side by notes from you and Ellie. As he reads, then rereads them, you can see the cogs turning. He's starting to understand why you did this—and how something as simple as a photograph isn't just a look back on a life well-lived. It's a reminder to keep living.

“This is…,” his brows furrow as he tries to find the words to express the conflicting thoughts racing through his head.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything," is what he ultimately settles on, but when he looks up at you, his eyes are wet. You immediately drop his hand to cup his cheeks.

"You didn't need to. I have everything I've ever wanted right here," you tell him gently, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. 

You glance over at the familiar faces in the living room, the same ones looking up at you from the page below, and he follows your gaze. The tension in his body begins to bleed away the longer he watches them, and you learn the wrinkle in his brow isn't actually the permanent fixture it always seemed to be.

He reaches up to cover one of your hands with his own, and you can feel his heart racing through his fingertips. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is the moment it happens. If his heart grew three sizes bigger today, and if he's finally ready to give himself the gift of peace.

“Merry Christmas, Joel Miller," you whisper, kissing him deeply as the sweet voice of Cindy Lou Who brings the movie credits rolling in the distance to a close.

thanks for reading and happy holidays!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[psiherer]

Okay, I don't usually explain my art, I like to make it self contained, but here I just wanted to talk nonsense

I didn't look up anything on this ship cause I wanted to do my own unbiased take, so I would genuinely appreciate if someone added appropriate tags I'm missing (edit: thanks added the name to tags)

So… I looked up the lore and the timeline, and it's all just vague enough for it to be possible for Spearmaster to survive until Hunter's campaign. So, old Spearmaster design! Maybe in this scenario they got sent by SRS to help Hunter out, or maybe they just went on their last journey and randomly met Hunter, Idk, but it kinda works and it makes me happy

I like the amount of connections to be drawn between them. Both are messengers for their iterators, both are combat-oriented, but don't feel inherently violent, both seem to value their mission over their own safety and comfort… It seems to me like they'd bond, and teach each other to value themselves, since both seem to sacrifice a lot for the sake of others

I also like the idea that Spearmaster wouldn't require as much sleep as a regular slugcat, so Hunter would try and keep himsef awake for extended periods of time, not wanting to be a liability, and Spearmaster would try to care for him when they notice it

I dunno, two weathered, hurt, kind warriors supporting eachother on their last journey is a really warm scenario to me, so enjoy I guess