#THANK YOU FOR ENABLING ME I AM SORRY THAT I NEVER SHUT UP ALSO
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tell me about orroros i would like to know
*points* tricked! Deceived! Now you fall into my trap (thank you)
Ok so. Important context around Orroros. I had a first playthrough for BG3, a half elf ranger based on a preexisting oc, where I basically fucked around for 6 hours, did everything wrong (did not. Figure out how to long rest until about 3 hours in and only found Shadowheart and Lae’zel which made combat exactly as fun as you are imagining) before I decided to scrap it all and go in fresh. Meaning I KNEW githyanki would likely have some shit early on. I was curious to see if the game would automatically make you a part of Lae’zel’s squadron/part of the githyanki that are attacking the Nautiloid. It does not. Lae’zel doesn’t seem to have a clue who you are. There are a thousand reasonable explanations for this.
I instead elected the way of complications.
So. Orroros Bor’gialyz. Is NOT githyanki. They are githzerai. The githzerai are offhand mentioned once or twice in Baldur’s Gate 3, but (at least as far as I can tell), we never see one or hear a lot of explicit reference to them outside of some flavor text. The githzerai are a distinct faction of the gith. Basically, post slave revolt with a lot of mind flayers having been wiped out, Mother Gith was full steam ahead on wanting to take the illithid empire for themselves. Another gith, Zerthimon, objected to this, saying Gith was essentially planning to replace one tyrant with herself and that the gith wouldn’t benefit from perpetual warfare. Civil war breaks out between their followers, with the two factions becoming the githyanki (or “children of Gith”) and the githzerai (“those who resist Gith”). Accounts split on how things ended up, some believe Gith defeated Zerthimon and others say he defeated her, but let her live. Ultimately, though, the githzerai wind up retreating deep into Limbo. They spend the following centuries mostly in monastic contemplation and developing their psionic abilities. Githzerai society tends to be pretty staunchly isolationist, preferring to withdraw from Astral Plane politics. However, they do keep warriors on hand and are known to send out strike forces when they believe either the mind flayers or the githyanki are mobilizing to do something severe.
Into all this drop Orroros. Orroros is a stormborn sorcerer: their powers were acquired when lightning struck their cluster of eggs, leaving them as the only survivor. This marked them pretty early on as Gith To Watch Out For: plenty of Gith have some magical ability, but by virtue of not having bloodlines in a way that matters for magic sorcerers are pretty rare. They were pulled into Limbo a little younger than would typically be allowed, largely to start preparing them for the path to becoming a zerth (in essence: a religious and political leader adept at magic, combat, and their own inborn psionics). This is where their soldier background comes in. They’ve been leading squadrons in routine missions since their teens, though its only recently they’ve been allowed outside of Limbo.
Obviously, everything going on in Baldur’s Gate pre-game was making a lot of noise. It was noticed that a lot of mindflayers and psionic activity taking place in Fae’run, as well as the fact that the githyanki were sending a LOT of dragon riders in that direction. Orroros’ team was sent to find what they could. The mission was ultimately unsuccessful and they were given the order to pull out. Orroros sent their team on ahead, lingering behind to clean up the last remnants of their presence...only to get grabbed by the Nautiloid in that exact moment.
When they next wake up they’re right next to a warrior in githyanki silver armor and the journey does not improve from there.
Githyanki and githzerai aren’t simply factions at odds: they hate each other almost as much as they hate mindflayers. And with more githyanki bearing down on the nautiloid Orroros believes that even if they managed to get the upper hand on Lae’zel they may likely be attacked by anyone who came here with her. At which point they make the panic-fueled decision to pretend to be githyanki. And just sort of. Keep doing that when they hit the ground, because god knows when they’re getting back home and they truly cannot afford to be either killed by Lae’zel or lose Lae’zel’s help if the truth comes out.
This was the rp hook I kept up for Act 1 pretty much up until the creche, that Orroros is doing their level best to pass as githyanki and ultimately. Doing a pretty miserable job at it. They’ve never directly interacted with any before, their knowledge comes from books and from githzerai accounts, most of whom tend to paint the githyanki as bloodthirsty power-mad despots all too brainwashed to realize the lich queen is marching them to their deaths. Which, yeah, Lae’zel doesn’t initially do much to unseat that, but it does mean the performance can feel extremely disjointed and cartoonish at times. Their companions definitely know they’re up to SOMETHING but none of them know enough to understand what. Lae’zel assumes its the sort of posturing a young githyanki does when they’re scared and insecure and is mostly just irritably waiting for them to drop it and get real.
This is mostly comedy right up until the Creche at which point. Shit gets uh. Very Real very quickly. I had them avoid it as long as they feasibly could while still dodging the worst suspicion. Mostly because it represented more chances for them to be outed by anyone who knew anything. This is, however, also where we get into what wound up being the ideological meat of what I wanted to do with Orroros: the idea that “here’s a race, one of them is bad and violent and the other is weird but peaceful” is usually dumb. I wanted to deep dive into a lot of the inherent complications of this shared point of collective trauma (ghaik slavery) and also the devastation of this kind of factionalism. There are a lot of the worst excesses of githyanki society that the githzerai avoid, they generally tend to be less supremacist and also have much less of a crush on the imperialist system that created them to begin with. But that isolationism creates a supremacist view of its own. The revelation I think Orroros has on actually forming a relationship with Lae’zel, seeing the creche, meeting Vlaakith, and finally understanding this other half, is that githzerai have been leaving the githyanki to rot for centuries under a different kind of master. And that maybe sucks of them a little. Lae’zel, the youths they meet in the creche, Voss, clearly none of them hatched out of the egg brainwashed and violent and evil. There were always systems of power that made them that way, and there was always more to them than the people they had to perform as.
At that point, Orroros’ directive shifts internally, from a desperate need to return home, to an understanding that the best way to serve their people might just be to make them whole again.
Some other minor background notes, because this definitely isn’t long enough:
-Mind over matter is a huge concept you run into with the githzerai, a product of a pretty heavily monastic culture as well as a species with a lot of experience being on the receiving end of psionic torment. This is mostly relevant to Orroros in terms of their relationship to pain. Part of their training involved being taught how to endure a great deal of suffering without revealing information or betraying their directives. In theory it was meant to encourage discipline and stoicism. What it actually did is cause Orroros to link pain with both their inherent value and with praise from authority figures. This was a fun thing to resurface during the Abdirak scene and became the foundation of their eventual affinity for Loviatar in general.
-Githzerai tend to be a little less hierarchical, though still pretty militarized. I extrapolated out from this a different philosophy of leadership. Where Lae’zel attempting to being in control of a situation tends to be a very top-down “I’m your C.O. so fall in line or fall behind”, Orroros tends to prioritize the furthering of the goals of the group as a way of sustaining morale. They tend to be very reluctant to voice their own opinion until everyone else has been heard out first, and focus on making things happen for the people they consider as part of their squad. This also means that they have a tendency to be very two-faced with their companions and apply inconsistent standards to them as individuals. Whatever keeps the unit moving.
-Astarion was the first to figure out that they were githzerai, largely because he could sense SOME secret and kept probing until eventually it was easier to tell him and keep him quiet than to keep dodging the question. He didn’t particularly care for a while, mostly because gith internal politics are a little niche for even his bottomless appetite for gossip. Was sort of fun to hold over their head though. They had a relatively antagonistic relationship for the first few weeks, largely because Astarion read them as uptight and boring (only 60% true) and Orroros was both devastatingly attracted to him and desperate to not be upfront with that. Astarion’s a culture shock for someone who comes from an ideological background as inherently collectivist as githzerai culture is. To their eternal horror they found that selfishness and blatant willingness to use horrible means for his own ends only made him more compelling. That and the fact that they have the same sense of humor deep down.
-For all their world weary commander attitude, they’re relatively young (barely 30, and that’s complicated by virtue of how Time Works in the Astral Plane) and also, extremely sheltered. Most of the things they know about they know about by books.
ANYWAYS. Thank you for indulging my madness I have. So many thoughts this isn’t even all of them but I figure nearly 2k words was a good stopping point.
#THANK YOU FOR ENABLING ME I AM SORRY THAT I NEVER SHUT UP ALSO#oc tag: orroros#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#bg3 tav#githyanki#long post
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I Never Stopped Loving You
I Never Stopped Loving You
Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC “Catie”
Word Count: 7700+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes: @theewokingdead is such an enabler and I love her for it! This is 100% her idea (I’ll post it at the end). I’m just doing the words!
And yes, this is my first OFC character!
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Main Masterlist
Joel Miller Masterlist
I Never Stopped Loving You Part 2>>
September 26th, 2013
2 pink lines.
2 little pink lines that will change the entire course of my life from here on out. Not just my life, but his life too.
Joel.
It’s not like we just started dating. It’s been a couple of years, but we hadn’t really brought up the idea of adding another child alongside his Sarah. And yet, here I am, staring down in disbelief at these 2 little pink lines, memories of the night that caused this from a couple weeks ago flashing before my eyes briefly before my brain starts to spiral.
Would he be happy? Mad? Leave me? Feel obligated to marry me? How will Sarah feel?
Before I can spiral more, my phone springs to life, it’s ring loud in my tiny bathroom as it vibrates across the counter. I knew from the ring it was him, but what I didn’t expect was Joel to sound so tired and frustrated.
“Hey baby.”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Is that contractor being a dick again?”
He chuckles, low and deep. “How’d you guess?”
“He’s been giving you shit for weeks. I don’t know how you deal with it.”
“Because I need the money. But I’m starting to think it may not be worth it to keep my mouth shut.”
He launches into a story about his day from hell, how the contractor is making everything take 10 times as long as it should. When he finishes, he takes a deep sigh before speaking again.
“You able to check on Sarah?”
“Yeah. She’s doing fine. Ordered a pizza. Sorry I couldn’t hang with her.”
“It’s alright. You feelin’ any better, sweetheart?”
I could tell him now, tell him that my secret suspicion of my nausea over the last several days has been confirmed, but I don’t want to tell him like this. Not over the phone, not when he’s exhausted and frustrated. I’ll tell him when I see him next.
“A little.”
A beep sounds and Joel pauses. “That’s Tommy. I’ll call him back later.”
“No, no. It’s ok, answer it. Just go home and get some sleep.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. See you tomorrow?”
“Definitely, sweetheart. Feel better.”
I feel guilty for not telling him right away, but the timing just isn’t right. Besides, this gives me some time to wrap my own head around it and figure out exactly how to tell him.
—----
Waiting was not a great idea.
I had fallen asleep at some point, but I was woken up by…is that screaming? Something is happening outside and it doesn’t sound good.
Creeping up to the window, I pull the curtains back just enough to peek outside. People are moving about the street, but something isn’t right. They’re all running from Mr. Stevens, my neighbor from several houses down. He’s running after them, but it’s not normal. No…not human. He leaps forward, jumping onto the nearest person and…shit!
I run back to my nightstand and grab my phone. The first few times I try to get a call out, it’s a busy signal. Whether the lines are cut or busy is beyond me, but I have to keep trying. My fingers tremble as I use speed dial to try to get Joel. The phone slips from my hand and clatters to the floor.
“Shit!”
I bend down and pick it up, hitting the green call button and miraculously, the call goes through. My breathing speeds up, I feel like my heart is about to pound out of my chest. I’ve never needed a call to go through more than now-
“Catie?”
“Joel?”
“Thank God. Listen, somethin’ is happening. Something with the people-”
“I know. I saw the neighbor-”
“Stay away from them-.....not right-....Sarah and I-.....”
“Joel?” The line keeps breaking up, static cutting out more than half of whatever he was trying to tell me.
“....just stay put….no lights….there soon…”
“I- ok. I’ll stay here.”
“Love you, sweethea-”
The phone cuts off and the connection dies with it. I pull the phone away from my ear and look down at the screen. My phone still has battery but over the service bars is an X. Guess they either cut the service or something happened at a tower. Either way, it’s not good.
I stay there a moment longer until more screams and glass breaking from across the street somewhere bring me harshly back to reality. I click my lamp off and head into my closet, finding the new hiking backpack I’d bought a couple weeks ago with Joel, who planned to take Sarah and I hiking soon. Be smart, Catie. It’s just like camping. What do I need realistically?
I’m no stranger to traveling, so I roll all my clothes, putting on a 3rd pair of jeans and a shirt, making sure to pack and wear thicker socks that will last longer. I also toss in a bar of soap, my waterproof matches and firestarter, some salves I had just finished making last week, and some other random items. The pack isn’t too heavy, which I’m grateful for. I grab one of Joel’s flannels and throw it on over my clothes before hoisting the backpack over one shoulder.
Quietly, I creep downstairs, ears straining to hear anything out of place. I hear nothing - well, nothing aside from the ominous noises from outside. I’m so glad that I have curtains all around my house, never wanting people to see in, especially at night. I fill my canteen with water and grab a bunch of high protein, portable snacks, tossing them in my bag and strapping the water to the side. I make up another canteen to add to the other side to balance the weight. Plus, having extra water wasn’t a bad thing. Right?
I kept my phone on me in case Joel managed to get through again. I pull it out to see if anything had changed, but nothing. It’s been at least 20 minutes since I spoke to him, but even if he had left his home right at that moment, it would still be another 5 or so minutes before he’d get here. And I’m sure he’s running into obstacles outside.
When it hits the hour mark, I become officially worried.
I know he told me to stay put, but the screams outside are lessening, which can only mean one thing. I’m not waiting around for it to be my turn.
Grabbing a pen, I scribble a quick note telling Joel to meet me at the cabin, my parent’s cabin that they had given me to use with Joel and Sarah. It’s out in the middle of nowhere but it’s self sustainable and the perfect place to hideout from…whatever is happening.
I leave the note in a conspicuous place, hoping that he’ll be able to see it. I check the knives I stored in my boot and one in a leg strap on my thigh. Initially a gag gift from my brother when I started hiking more, I learned how to use them a little, just in case. Otherwise, I have my bow-my bow!
Quickly, I head into my office closet and grab my bow and quiver of arrows, making sure I have the proper attachments for attaching them to my backpack. I pick up my keys, fingers trembling and I nearly drop them.
Then my sliding door crashes open, glass shattering everywhere, inhuman noises coming from whatever fell through it.
I don’t even bother to look, throwing open the front door and slamming it behind me, eyes scanning the yard for any threats. Thank God I have a keyless entry, the car unlocking for me and I throw my bag and bow in as I slide in the seat of my suv, slamming the door shut behind me. I fumble with the keys, trying to jam them in the ignition when I hear my front door slam against the ground. I manage to jam the key in and the engine turns over. I backup quickly out of my driveway and peel off down the street as Mr. Stevens comes out of my house, moving towards my car but quickly giving up as I drive away.
I make it about 10 blocks when I see her. My neighborhood friend Lucia, running for her life from…something who used to be a someone. No hesitation, I turn my suv, slamming into the something and sending it flying. Lucia turns and sees me, eyes wide with fear as she runs towards me as I beckon her to get in. She throws open the passenger door and screams at me to go before she even closes it behind her. I do, speeding off down the road and somehow managing to get out of the nieghborhood without road blocks or hitting anything else.
For now, I’m ignoring what I see and focusing on getting us out.
Lucia says nothing, eyes scanning the road and looking behind us to make sure everything is clear. By the grace of a higher power, we manage to make it to the back highway that will eventually bring us to my parent’s cabin. Or my cabin now, I guess.
“Luce, are you ok?”
Lucia is breathing heavy but she nods, turning her head towards me as she starts to relax slightly. “Thank you for stopping. I..I wouldn’t have made it otherwise.”
“I’m just glad I could help.”
A few moments of silence pass between us before I speak again.
“Are you hurt or..or bit? I don’t..I don’t know what-”
“No. I don’t know how but no.”
“What are they?”
Lucia takes a shaking breath and I can hear her trying to hold back tears. “I..I don’t know. They aren’t…they were people but now?”
“Yeah that’s pretty much all I saw too…oh is there anywhere I need to go or drive by for you?”
She looks away from me quickly. “I uh…no.”
“Where’s your brother?”
She was quiet for a moment. “He left on his business trip a day ago.”
Right. Japan or something.
I reach over and squeeze her hand, feeling us both shaking. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
More silence.
“What about Joel? And Sarah?”
“I uh…I was waiting for them but… I left a note telling them where to meet me.”
“Oh. I’m sure they’re fine.”
We drive for a little bit longer, Lucia messing with the radio to try and find anything that was playing. It was all just static. I take the exit I need and clear my throat.
“I’m pregnant.”
Lucia’s head snaps towards me. “You’re what?”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Great timing, huh?”
“Does Joel know?”
A sob jumps out of my throat, one I didn’t know I had. “No. I..he had a hard day at work and I figured I’d tell him tomorrow…”
“Oh, Cat. It’s ok. He…he’ll find you for sure. I know it. Buuut…until then, you have me! Wait, did you pick me up just because I’m a midwife?” I can hear the smile in her words, but she’s still not 100% certain.
“I picked you up because you needed help. And you didn’t look injured.” She laughs at my admission.
“I love your honesty, Cat.”
We chat about the pregnancy the entire way, only quieting when we reach the long, hidden drive to my cabin. We do a quick perimeter check, inside and out. Nothing and no one. The closest neighbors we have are literally miles away. We have more chances of seeing a bear than another person.
Lucia helps me unload the few things I have in the car and heads inside. We take a quick stock of all pantry items and I’m thankful that Sarah and I did so much canning the last time we were here. She had gotten slightly obsessed with the idea and was looking forward to eating it when they were ready. Water wouldn’t be an issue either as we have our own private well, no need for electricity. Which is good because that doesn’t work without the generator and we are not turning that on. It’s too noisy and would attract trouble.
Lucia and I have a low key dinner of beef sticks and some dried vegetables, chatting with each other to try and lighten the dark cloud that has crept over the world. She heads off to one of the bedrooms and I head off to mine, the one I share with Joel. Once I’m finally able to collapse in the bed, I allow myself a moment to cry, worrying about Joel and Sarah and the baby that’s currently growing inside of me. I still have hope they’ll make their way here. I have to or I’ll crumble into bits and float away on the wind.
—----
20 years later…
Lucia and I stayed in the cabin for nearly 10 years. She helped me safely bring my daughter Penelope, or “Poppy”, earthside. We raised her in the cabin, teaching her everything she needed to know about survival and life, despite her young age. This is how life is now. She’s still allowed to have kid time of course, which is why there are murals painted on nearly every corner of the cabin.
About 10 years in, Lucia, who had never given up on finding someone or a transmission on either the radio or the ham radio, finally found one talking about a settlement in Jackson, Wyoming. It would take us nearly a month to get there, let alone the danger we’d be in. The suv would never make it, having given out years ago, but luckily we had managed to make a small farm for us and that included a few horses and a couple that could pull a wagon or 2. After gathering up all the information we could on Jackson, we determined it must be a real place and put it to a vote with all of us. After the winter snows melted, we left for Jackson, packing up our entire lives, or what we could anyway, and plotting out the safest route possible. It would take us about a month, especially with the detours we were taking, but they were necessary to avoid the areas that would most likely have bandits. Or worse.
The last thing I did before I closed the door was to write a letter to Joel and Sarah, telling them where we were going. Even 10 years later, I had not given up on them.
—----
A month later, we arrived in Jackson, a few more scrapes and bruises to our name, but luckily, we hadn’t run into too much trouble.
Lucia got work right away, considering her background as an official midwife. I was hired to help with the gardening because of my immensely green thumb and knowledge of herbs, and Poppy was allowed to help with the livestock we brought, after school was done for the day. Poppy was beside herself with the idea of going to actual school, even though she knew most of what they were teaching anyway.
We all settled nicely, Lucia falling in love with a nice man on the other side of town, eventually moving in with him and starting a family of their own. Poppy made a ton of friends, finally allowed the freedom to be a kid for more than a couple of hours.
As for me?
I never really dated anyone, my heart given to Joel a long time ago. I know the likelihood of seeing him again is extremely slim, but I still have a tiny sliver of hope that he’s around. And maybe he’s heard about Jackson and will head this way. Which didn’t impact my decision to come here. Nope. Not at all.
But the biggest surprise that Jackson held for us was Tommy, Joel’s brother. He was married to Maria, the woman who started this community with her father, and lived on the farm where they kept the horses. Poppy and he got along right away, her begging for more stories about her dad and he would pretend to be annoyed but would give in every single time. She continued this ritual as she grew, eventually bringing her boyfriends with her, searching for Tommy’s approval, just like a father.
One beautiful fall day, I’m walking through the market, trading for new produce and supplies when I hear some people gossiping over lemonade at the small eatery in town. I tend to ignore gossip, never having been one for it, until the phrase “Tommy Miller’s brother” reaches my ear. I freeze, listening intently on their words, but I’m only able to make out that he was here in town.
Joel was here. In Jackson. Joel.
I turn, marching towards the small group of people that were doing the gossiping when I heart the alert - bandits were attempting to attack the dam. Growling out in frustration, I turn to run towards that side of town, slinging the rifle from around my back once I assumed my nearly hidden position on the wall. We make quick work of the bandits, especially since we are heavily fortified and secured. That doesn’t stop them from trying, though.
Once the attack is over, I search the throngs of people for Tommy, just spotting him getting on his horse and heading home. Cursing, I turn, heading towards Tommy’s house on foot, my mind now completely on Joel since the bandit attack was over. Was he still in town? Does he know I’m here? Does he know he has a daughter?
I arrive at the farm and immediately head for the barn, knowing Tommy would still be tending to his horse. Sure enough, he had just finished putting her away, locking the gate behind him.
“Tommy!”
He sighs and doesn’t look at me right away. Which tells me he knows exactly why I’m here.
“Hey, Catie.”
“Is he here?” I’m standing just a couple feet from him, arms crossed and my foot tapping slightly with nerves.
“Who?”
“Fuck you, Tommy. You know who.”
“I-”
“Tell me the truth.”
He meets my gaze for a moment before nodding. “He was.”
He was here. Joel was here, in Jackson, alive and I didn’t- wait. Did he say was?
I swallow hard, willing my tears to just wait until I’m by myself. “Is he ok?”
“Yeah. Well, I mean as much ok as we all are.”
I let out a breath of relief. He was ok. Probably a little worse for wear but he was ok.
“Did…did you tell him I’m here?”
Tommy studies me for several moments, his dark eyes bouncing between mine, as if he’s debating with himself. “I…did.”
He knows I’m here. Joel knows I’m here, alive and well and he just-
Oh.
Of course. It’s been nearly 20 years and it would be ridiculous to think the man still loved me after all this time. He didn’t even know I was still alive. He’d never even met his daughter. If he no longer cared about me, fine. But why wouldn’t he want to meet his daughter? Unless…
“Did you tell him about Poppy?”
Tommy’s entire stance is apologetic and I know his reply before his lips even part. “No.”
“What the fuck, Tommy?”
He puts his hands up in a calming manner. “It shouldn’t come from me.”
“Fuck you, Tommy! He doesn’t even know he has another daughter. He deserves to know-”
“You’re right, he does. But not from me-”
“I can’t fucking believe this. It’s been 20 years, Tommy. 20 years and he didn’t even stop to say hi? Maybe if you’d have told him about Poppy, he’d at least stayed long enough to see her.”
I poke him in the chest as hard as I can. “It’s your fault he left!”
Tommy grabs my wrist and pulls me closer, his voice lowering to just above a whisper. “He had other things to take care of.”
“What could be more important than family?”
“All of humanity.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“He had a girl with him. Maybe…14? 15?”
My heart sinks. Did he have another daughter after the clickers came? As if he could read my mind, Tommy shakes his head.
“Not his. Her name is Ellie and she’s….special.”
“That’s disgusting, Tommy.”
He gives me a look. “She was bit.”
“Bit? And you let her into Jackson?”
“And she hadn’t turned.”
I could feel my eyes grow wide. Bit? Without turning? That’s impossible.
“How do you -”
“Saw the bite myself. I’ve seen enough of ‘em to know what they look like. It’s legit.”
“Fuck,” I whisper. This is huge. Definitely bigger than me.
“Yeah… anyway, he was takin’ Ellie to the Fireflies because they can supposedly make a cure out of her blood. Or that’s the hope anyway.”
“A cure?”
“Yup. This whole mess could be put behind us.”
This…this is life changing. World changing. My 20 year long devotion to a man I was deeply in love with paled in comparison to a cure for the clickers. Tommy told me Joel still had a long way to go, but if anyone could make it, he could.
“ ‘m sorry, Cat. I wish he could’ve stayed to say hi.”
“Did…did he say anything about me?” I hate how needy I sound.
“Honestly, we didn’t really talk about you other than me mentioning you were here. The focus was Ellie.”
I nod. The focus was on the right thing.
“Do you think he’ll come back?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I doubt it. It’s a long trek and pretty dangerous. He’d be smart to just stay put, especially to take care of Ellie.”
I left the barn and headed straight home. Poppy was out with her boyfriend so I had the whole place to myself. Which gave me plenty of alone time to cry and, for the first time in 20 years, try to move on from the dream I had about starting a little family with a man I never stopped loving.
—----
Spring in Jackson is always beautiful. The colors come alive, blooming from every surface they can for miles in greeting the season change. It’s also the perfect time to start planting certain crops so they’ll be ready when it comes harvest season.
I’ve finished planting in the community garden, dirt crusted under my fingernails despite my scrubbing at the garden sink. I’ll be able to use a brush at home, but for now, I smile at the grime on my clothes. It means Jackson will have food and enough to last through winter.
Taking off my apron, I toss it into the laundry basket to be cleaned and head towards the home I share with Poppy. She doesn’t spend as much time there these days, but I can hardly blame her. She is 20 and in a pretty serious relationship. I would not be surprised if the boy popped the question any day now.
I turn onto Main Street and Mrs. NoseyPants stops me. I know it’s not her real name but it fits her better.
“Catie! How are the crops going? Jackson going to survive?”
“Mmhhmm. We should be great.” I try to step around her, but she blocks my path.
“How’s that daughter of yours? Still getting on with the Miller boy?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I hope he makes an honest woman of her before something happens.”
“Something happens?”
She looks around, as if she expects anyone to actually give a fuck about what we’re saying. “Yes. Like an out of wedlock child.”
I plaster on a fake smile. “Oh yeah. That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t like your tone, Catie.”
I open my mouth to offer some sarcastic retort about not really giving a rat’s ass what she thought of my tone, but my gaze moves over her shoulder and the crowd parts just enough for me to see him.
Joel.
Unmistakably him, despite what the last 20 years has put on his shoulders. His back is to me, but his head is turned to the side, looking at all of the houses and buildings that line Main Street. Fuck he’s still handsome.
“Are you listening to me, Catie?”
I blink but don’t take my eyes off Joel, afraid he’d disappear if I did. “Full offense Mrs. Bennett, but I don’t have time to listen to your outdated and hateful words. Have a nice day.”
I know her jaw has dropped as I scoot around her, and I know I’ll probably pay for that later, but I couldn’t care less. My eyes are fixed on him as he walks slowly, eyes still moving from house to to house, taking it all in. I’m only several feet away before someone literally walks into him, dropping the giant stack of boxes they had been carrying.
“I am so sorry sir!”
The young man stoops to try and gather up the boxes and Joel turns to face him, bending to help him gather them up and reassemble them in his arms. “Don’t worry about it.”
The boy nods and takes off. Joel’s eyes follow him, making sure he doesn’t drop them again when his gaze meets mine. Those dark eyes move right into recognition and shock, blowing wide as it finally sets in who he’s looking at.
I hesitate only a moment before I move towards him, nearly running and shoving a few people out of my way. And suddenly, I’m standing in front of him, all 5’11 and broad shouldered, just as he had been 20 years ago. More lines adorn his face, and several scars, his hair is speckled and streaked with greys, but somehow it makes him all the more attractive. My breath catches in my throat and I find myself speechless in front of the man I would’ve given anything to speak to for 20 years.
“Catie?” He chokes out my name, eyes scanning mine as if he was waiting for me to say he was mistaken. That I wasn’t who he thought I was.
A quick sob escapes me as I nod frantically. “It’s me.”
His hand, large and warm just as it always has been, comes up to cup my face, his thumb tracing my cheek, as if touching me was proving to him that I was real. And then he pulls me into his chest, hugging on to me tight, like I would disappear from his grip if he didn’t. I hug him back, crying into his broad chest, unable to believe that I was finally, finally, holding onto him.
He pushes me back slightly, only to look at my face. “You’re…you’re alive.”
I chuckle through my tears. “And so are you. I thought Tommy told you I was here?”
He nods, his dark eyes still on my face. “I thought he was makin’ shit up to try and keep me here.”
“Well that does sound like Tommy.”
Joel chuckles deeply and it sends a jolt through my body. God how I missed that sound.
“He told me you lived down this way.”
I cock my head to the side. “Were..were you looking for me?”
Pink blooms across his cheeks as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “I had to see if he was full of shit.”
“Fair point.”
We stand there, in the middle of the street just staring at each other for several minutes before I blink back to reality.
“Are you hungry? I was heading home to make something to eat and shower. I…if you want to join me?”
His eyes darken briefly and I realize too late what I said.
“I’d love to. But…”
He’s struggling with words.
“..but… what?”
He clears his throat, looking away from me for the first time. “Wouldn’t your uh…husband or boy friend or whatever be upset?”
Smiling up at him, I shake my head. “I don’t have either of those.”
His shoulder seem to slacken in relief. “Oh. ‘m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
The corners of his mouth tick upwards in a small grin and I feel like my insides are melting through my skin. How can this man still get me going after 20 years?
“Lead the way.”
I gesture down the street in the direction we’d have to go to get to my place. We don’t say much, Joel still taking in Jackson but always having one eye on me. I know we’re about to have a difficult conversation. How will he feel about Poppy? About how our life turned out? Or his? Tommy had told me about Sarah when I first came to Jackson. The hardness behind his eyes shows that he’s still dealing with the grief and I imagine he always will. It’s no easy thing to lose a child.
We arrive at my house and I unlock the door, heading inside and flipping on a light.
“You have power?” He asks.
“Mmhmm. Tommy was able to hook up a generator of sorts to the power grid. It’s heavily guarded and taken care of so no one has messed with it. He’s been talking about trying to use water or wind energy, but we need someone who knows that.”
I kick off my boots and Joel copies me, setting his down next to mine.
“Poppy? You home?” I call out, not wanting her to walk in the middle of whatever was about to take place. When I receive no reply after a few calls of her name, I shrug my shoulders in a ‘guess she’s not home’ way.
“Who’s Poppy?”
“You thirsty?” I head towards the kitchen and Joel follows, watching as I take out a pitcher of lemonade. “I also have beer. It’s…not the greatest but it’s something.”
“You make the best lemonade. I’ve been dreaming of it for years.”
I smile, turning to grab 2 glasses and putting some ice in each of them before adding the lemonade. I hand Joel his glass and his fingers briefly brush against mine. They’re rougher than before but not by much, and the jolt this light touch sends through is just as strong as it was 20 years ago.
I head back to the living area and sit on the couch, taking a sip while I motion for him to sit as well. He does, taking his own sip and I catch a nearly imperceivable moan at the back of his throat when he tastes the lemonade. I quickly shove my legs together, hoping he doesn’t notice. I try to cover by setting my glass on the coffee table and he copies me, wiping his hand on his jeans as he settles back, his body slightly shifted towards mine.
“Is Poppy your uh…girlfriend?”
I laugh this time, not at the idea of me having a girlfriend but at the look on his face while saying it. “No. No she’s-” time to tell him what you should have all those years ago “- my daughter.”
Joel nods, his eyes looking down at his hands and his shoulder slump slightly as if sad. “You- you said you didn’t have anyone.”
“I don’t.”
A knowing look passes over his eyes. “Oh. ‘m sorry for your loss.”
My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “My loss? No, Joel. Poppy is 20.”
“20…what?”
“20 years old.”
It’s his turn to look confused, as if math was passing over his vision. “She’s…20?”
“Yes.”
“So…that…that would mean when…you…” He shifts nervously in his spot on the couch, another swipe of his palms across his jean clad legs.
“Is…is she…”
“Do you remember that night? You had called me, telling me about that pain in the ass contractor you had to work with?”
Joel nods, his eyes glazed over in memory. “Yeah. I called to check on you because you couldn’t stop throwing…up…” His eyes snap to mine, and to my surprise, they were full of hope.
“I told myself it wasn’t the right time to tell you. But how the fuck would I have known that the world would end?” I chuckle nervously, fumbling as I reach got my glass to try and cover my nerves.
He lets out a puff of air. “So I have a daughter?”
My face feels warm under his intense gaze. “Yes.”
He lets out a half sob half laugh of joy, tears welling in his eyes before he tries to wipe them away with the back of his hand. “All these years I had a kid and I didn’t know. I didn’t know, Catie. I-” Another half sob half laugh escapes him and he takes a moment to compose himself, his body not used to such displays of emotion. Not anymore.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that night?”
Why didn’t I? “You sounded so stressed and worried and I didn’t want to add onto that. I was going to tell you the next time I saw you but…” but indeed.
“How long had you known?”
“That day. I had suspected for a couple of days but I had to wait until I was sure I had missed my period to test and I didn’t want to tell you and be wrong.”
“You should’ve told me, sweetheart. We could’ve done the test together.”
I chuckle darkly. “Yeah I probably should’ve done that.”
“Tommy never told me.”
“What?”
“When I was here before. He told me you were here but not that I…that I have…why the fuck wouldn’t he tell me?” Joel pushes himself up from the couch in anger, pacing back and forth across the hardwood floor. “He should’ve told me!”
“Joel, he did what he thought was right.”
He looks at me, anger flashing in his eyes. “He had no right to keep that from me. If I had known, I would’ve-”
“Not brought Ellie to the Fireflies for a chance to save humanity?”
He stops pacing, turning towards me with shock on his face. “He told you about Ellie?”
I nod, sighing. “He did.”
“And he didn’t tell me I had-have a fucking daughter? And that she was here?”
“In all fairness to Tommy, he only told me after I got pissed he didn’t mention her to you.”
Joel scoffs. “What an asshole.”
“I…I thought maybe if you knew, you would’ve…maybe you would’ve at least stayed to meet her.”
Anger leaves his body and he sits next to me on the couch, hesitantly placing his hand on my thigh. “I definitely would’ve. When he told me you were here…I was intent on seeing you. Or seeing if he was pulling shit out of his ass. But he reminded me how important my cause was and since it was time sensitive, I couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t at least have simply said hi?”
“Sweetheart, there is no ‘simply’ between us. If I’d have seen you, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.”
Tears fall from my eyes and I wipe at them furiously. “Did it work out at least?”
“Did what work out?”
“Ellie. And the Fireflies.”
Joel grows quiet for several moments. “Turns out they didn’t need her after all. Found others and couldn’t use the blood.”
He’s lying. I know he’s lying but now’s not the time to press him for more information.
“She come here with you?”
Joel nods. “I wasn’t just gonna leave her there.”
“No, no. I think that’s great. There’s a good community here. I’m sure she’ll fit right in.”
“She was already makin’ friends the moment we walked in the gate.”
A long pause passes between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s a processing silence, both of us trying to categorize and file the information we both learned from the other. When I look at him, I can tell he’s far off, thinking and brooding on things, which isn’t always a good thing.
“I wish you’d have told me that night.”
Ah.
“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“It would’ve changed everything! I would’ve grabbed Sarah and headed straight over to your place, bringing you…I don’t know, ginger ale and crackers? Whatever you wanted. We’d have stayed with you, started our family. Sarah so wanted a sibling. Especially a sister. Shit, she’d be so happy right now if she were….”
His voice tapers off but I know what he was going to say.
If she were alive.
I place my hand on his and squeeze it. “Tommy told me. I know nothing I say can make up for it, but I am so sorry Joel. I miss her terribly. I can’t imagine how it is for you.”
His mouth sets in a line, his jaw clenching, hand squeezing a little tighter on my thigh as if he’s trying to prevent himself from losing it.
“Maybe if I had known you were pregnant, and we came over, she’d still be alive.”
“Oh, Joel, no. You can’t think like that-”
“I failed her.”
He spoke so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. The guilt in his words, however, was loud enough to hear from space. I bring my other hand to the side of his face, cupping his cheek, his patchy greyish stubble poking at my fingers, and gently turn his face upwards to mine.
“You are a great man, Joel. And a hell of a father. There is no way that Sarah would ever think that you failed her in any way. She loved you so much and idolized you.”
The tears come this time, unable to hold them back any longer. I pull him to me and hug him, cradling the back of his head as he cries into my shoulder, mourning the loss of his daughter anew as he attempts to put aside the intense load of guilt he’s carried around for the last 2 decades. We stay like this for a while, my own tears mixing with his, as the light from the setting sun streaks through the curtains.
Eventually, Joel pulls back, wiping at his face with the back of his hand before he finally looks at me, his beautiful eyes puffy from tears. I’m sure mine don’t look any better.
“Sorry about that.”
“Sorry for what? Being human?”
He smiles and the room lights up with it. “You were always so good at that.”
“At what?”
“Letting me feel things. And makin’ me feel like I wasn’t a complete fuck up.”
“That’s because you aren’t.”
He scoffs, smirking at me in disbelief. “I’ve had to do some shady shit to survive, sweetheart.”
“Who hasn’t?”
“You got me there. I’m still a fuck up though. Don’t know how you didn’t see it.”
“Hhmm…” I put my finger to my chin in mock thinking. “It’s probably because I’m in love with you then.”
Joel cocks his head slightly to the side, questioning my statement. I’m not sure why, as my love for him is no secret to me.
“In love? Not was in love?”
Oh.
“I-”
The front door opens and Poppy walks in. I nearly jump out of my skin, having been completely absorbed in our conversation. Or was it more of a confession?
“Hey Mom! I’m only home to grab some clothes. Then I’m heading to Lyra’s. There’s this new girl in town, Ellie? She’s only 15 but she’s pretty cool. Oh.” Poppy had walked into the living room, her eyes, exactly like her father’s, shifting from me to Joel. I stand and Joel copies me, staying put while I walk around the couch towards Poppy.
“Mom..I didn’t know you had company. You never have company.” She thinks she’s speaking quietly but it’s not quiet enough.
“Poppy-”
“I mean, I think it’s great, but….but…” Her eyes fully take in Joel, landing on his face as she stares, her eyes slowly widening in realization. She had only seen him in the photos I was able to share with her, a few printed ones and then some on the cell phone I had refused to toss away, carting it across the country along with a charger in hopes of finding power to charge it.
“Dad?” Poppy whispers in disbelief.
Joel looks nervous, his weight shifting from foot to foot. This man has faced countless clickers, bandits, and worse, but meeting his 20 year old daughter is the thing that does him in?
God I love this man.
His hand comes up and does a little wave as he stares back at her, clearing his throat. “Hi. I’m uh… I’m Joel.”
“Dad!” Poppy drops her bag and runs, launching herself over the couch and straight into his arms, wrapping herself around him as she cries. It takes Joel a moment to recover from the intense reaction, but he wraps his arms around her and holds her, hugging her just as tight. Tears obstruct my vision and I blink quickly, trying to wipe them away so I don’t miss a moment of this meeting.
Her feet back on the floor, Poppy pulls back, her eyes raking over Joel’s face. “Was I too much?”
Joel laughs, smiling down at his daughter. “Not enough.”
She laughs and he brings his hand to her face, wiping away her tears. “I’m sorry, Poppy.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t…I didn’t know-”
She waves her hand. “Mom told me everything. You never knew I existed and then the world went to shit. It’s ok. You’re here now and that’s what matters! Wait - you are staying right?”
Joel’s eyes shift from Poppy’s to mine and I look back at him waiting for an answer myself. I want him to stay, desperately need him to stay, but I understand if he wants to leave. I never asked if he had someone waiting for him somewhere.
“I don’t wanna step on you or your mom’s toes-”
Poppy blows a raspberry. “Step away! I know mom is thrilled you’re here. And I want to get to know my dad….dad… I can finally say that! ‘Hey, this is my dad!’ ‘Have you met my dad?’ I just…I can’t believe you’re here and not….not here.”
Clever way of saying dead.
“Me too, Poppy.”
“Mom, I know I said I would meet my friends, but-” she glances back at me and then smiles, giving me a knowing wink “-but I..will be going…to meet up with…Benny. Yeah, he’s uh probably waiting. For me. So I’ll just…grab my things and leave you two…alone…”
She is so not slick, but I love her so much.
She gives me another wink before fully turning to Joel. “We can hangout and talk more?”
“I look forward to it.”
She squeals and gives him one more hug before bounding across the hall to her room and reemerging only a handful of minutes later with a backpack.
“Poppy?”
“Mom?”
“Stay for dinner at least. Then you can meet up with your friends.”
“Ugh, mom. You’re smothering me.” She has a smile while she says it, casually tossing her bag down before sitting next to Joel.
I make dinner while they talk, Poppy telling him about her life and asking him a zillion questions about his. He seems to be able to talk about Sarah now, at least a little before Poppy tactfully changes the topic. They talk throughout dinner, laughing and joking, sounds I never thought I’d hear together. Eventually, Poppy leaves to hang out with her friends, excited to tell them about her dad. As soon as the door closes, Joel turns to me.
“Who’s Benny?”
Protective dad mode activated I see. Smiling, I tell him about Benny and how he’s a good guy and about he and Poppy. He seems more relaxed after but still in protective dad mode.
“I’ll have to meet him.”
“I’m sure you won’t have the choice not to.”
Dishes cleaned up, I offer Joel a glass of whiskey and he takes it, tasting a sip before setting it down on the coffee table as he relaxes back into the couch again.
“You and Ellie have a place to stay?”
“Yeah. Tommy and Maria gave us a house. Actually, it’s not too far from here I don’t think.”
“That’s great. I’m sure Ellie will be happy to have a more permanent place to live.”
“And her own room that she can slam the door to.”
We chat for a few minutes about parenting teenage daughters and the challenges it can bring. He takes another sip of his whiskey after telling me a bit about Ellie, or what he learned about her on their long trek anyway. It’s quiet between us again, but this time, I’m warmed by the whiskey and given a slight bit of confidence.
“In love.”
“What?” Joel asks, setting his glass down.
“From before. In love. Not was.”
He turns to me fully, his eyes raking across my face trying to detect a lie and finding none.
“It’s been 20 years, sweetheart. I don’t expect anythin’-”
“It’s always been you, Joel.”
His large hand cups the back of my head and pulls me to him, his lips crashing against mine and it’s like no time has passed, my lips immediately parting for him like they were created for just this purpose. His other hand comes up to cradle the other side of my head as my fingers cling to his shirt, trying to find purchase on literally anything. I feel like I’m falling but in the most glorious way possible. While I never gave up hope that he was alive, having him here, now, 20 years later, how we both defied odds to just end up in the same community, after the world had been torn apart…
He pulls back, his nose brushing against mine. “I never stopped loving you either, sweetheart.”
My hands slide up his chest and around his neck, gripping the curls at the back of his neck and feeling him groan as he slips his tongue in my mouth again, kissing me harder than before. I feel his fingers gently brush against the exposed skin at my hips, his hands having settled there and I can’t help the moan that escapes me. Joel’s touch has always sent electricity through me, but not having had it for 20 years is a whole new level.
“I don’t mean to be presumptuous, sweetheart, but-”
“My bedroom is down the hall, second door on the right.”
He smiles against my lips, chuckling darkly. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”
—----
>>I Never Stopped Living You Part 2>>
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
Original Idea from @theewokingdead:
"I have had this idea for a long-lost love refound fic with Joel Miller swimming around in my head for a while, but I don't think I'll ever get in the headspace to write it. So enjoy what I wish I could write and hope someone will steal. Warning: mention of pregnancy in the beginning.
Imagine it's September 26, 2013. You've been dating Joel for a while and, oops, you're pregnant. You're a flurry of emotions and have no idea how or when you're going to tell him. He calls you late that night, on his way home from a hellish day at the jobsite, telling you about the prick of a contractor he's been dealing with and can't risk losing his job. When he asks if you've checked in on Sarah you tell him that she's fine and you're sorry you were feeling too ill to stay with her today. When he inquires further about your illness, you opt not to say anything, not like this, not when he's had a shit day, and instead feign that everything is okay and you'll be fine. The call is interrupted by Tommy, and you insist Joel answer his call. He offers to call you back, but you tell him to go home and get some rest, that you'll hopefully see him tomorrow.
Of course, several hours later, all hell breaks loose. You manage to get a call through to Joel, telling you to stay put, that he'll come for you, then you lose connection. Joel never finds you, but you never lose hope.
Two decades later, you're living in Jackson, having crossed paths with Tommy a year earlier when he returned to Texas, where you never strayed far from. You overhear the talk - that Tommy Miller's brother is in town - but bandits attack before you can find the source of the rumor. Later, you find Tommy as he puts a horse away in the stable, and you question if it's true, that Joel is here, and he reluctantly tells you he was. You ask if he told Joel that you're here and he says that he did. Your heart sinks - of course he wouldn't still love you after all these years, but why wouldn't he at least want to see you before he left? You ask if he told Joel about your daughter - his daughter - and Tommy says no, that it shouldn't come from his mouth. You're furious, thinking maybe Joel would've stayed in town if he had known that he has a daughter. You let Tommy have it, and eventually he tells you why Joel was in town and why he left, about Ellie and the hope to find a cure. Finally, you come to your senses, realizing there are far more important matters, and try to move on from dreaming about having a little family with a man you never stopped loving.
Months later, you're walking around town when you run into Joel. There are a million different ways the reunion could go. How would you tell him about your shared daughter? How would he feel? Would he be pissed at Tommy for knowing and not telling him when he first came to Jackson? Would he be angry you didn't tell him that night when he called, before the Outbreak? Would he have done anything differently that night had he known - things that could've changed the trajectory of his entire life? Would he wonder if it would have kept you guys together as a family? Would he wonder if it would have even kept Sarah from suffering the fate she suffered? Would he blame you for it? I just imagine it would be one big emotional reunion. How would it end? I don't know. I just love a good re-found love fic - be it happy or sad. I love angst. I love an emotional Joel. It could be fun. But I'll never get around to writing it so let's just pretend I did 😭"
General Taglist:
@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @Hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @diaryofkali @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @jadore-andor @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#tlou#tlou fanfic#tlouff#The last of us#the last of us fanfic#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal character ff#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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i did some ridiculous technical BS in pokemon again
NOTE: not only is this post a very very long infodump from yours truly, it is also specifically an infodump involving a lot of pokemon glitches and exploits. even though i don't tamper with my games and everything achieved here can be done on original hardware with no hacking or what-have-you, some people still may consider this Cheating based on their own personal standards of legitimate gameplay. i ask that you please don't try to start arguments with me about pokemon legality and just take it all as an interesting technical infodump about gen 3 pokemon okay thank you <3
SO. i decided that before pokemon bank eventually shuts down one day in the probably-not-so-distant future and makes old gen transfer impossible, i need more ribbon master pokemon (AKA a pokemon with all the ribbons it can possibly receive from its gen of origin to the most recent gen it can transfer to) from gens 3 and 4. i've been meaning to ribbon master a pokemon from gen 3 based on my favorite singer, KAF (you don't need to know anything about kaf for this story whatsoever but you should check her out LMAO) and while musing over what pokemon would suit her best, it came to me.
FARIGIRAF IS JUST KAF'S FURSONA!! the monster teeth hoodie with the eyes. even has the dangly bits. like come on it's perfect. AND girafarig is obviously available in gen 3 so i could RM a kaf girafarig and then evolve her once i got to SV. Cool! Awesome! but here's the problem. I CAN'T SETTLE FOR JUST A NORMAL GIRAFARIG. I HAVE TO GO ALL OUT!!
i started brainstorming my ideal gen 3 kaf girafarig, and came to the following conclusions:
i obviously want the girafarig to be shiny. i mean come on
i want her to be a girl for obvious reasons, and gentle nature to match her personality. just because Armor Tail is better on Farigiraf i also want it to have girafarig's second ability, Early Bird. i'm not concerned with IVs because i think random IVs add flavor and that would add more tedium than i was already dealing with
i want her to be japanese language origin since kaf is a japanese singer (i can nickname her かふ that way too!)
i want the original trainer (OT) name to be PPさん (PP-san) in reference to the person who scouted out kaf's talent in the first place - he goes by Piedpiper online and my friends and i call him PP as a joke sometimes
i want the trainer ID to be 02018 because 2018 is kaf's debut year
since girafarig only spawns in gen 3 in the ruby/sapphire/emerald safari zone, i wanted to hatch a girafarig egg in firered/leafgreen for the kanto origin, which is impossible otherwise. FRLG are also really important games to me, leafgreen being the first pokemon game i ever owned or played, so that's a bonus
now you may be looking at this entire list and being like. What the fuck. how do you intend to shiny hunt girafarig with all of these hyperspecific parameters, especially in FRLG where the everstone passing nature doesn't exist and flame body doesn't even exist to hatch eggs faster. you will be doing that long after bank shuts down. and you're intending on doing this on original hardware too??? WELL. that's where ACE and RNG manipulation comes in babey. i am GOING to attempt to make this comprehensible even if you've never touched ACE or RNG manip in your life, even tangentially, but sorry if this is a bit of a mess it's pretty technical LOL. the rest of this post is going below a cut cause it Goes Places!!
ACE and RNG manipulation explained (kinda)
first off a quick overview of ACE, ACE stands for arbitrary code execution, which is the ability to run your own (arbitrary!) code within the game. this can be set up with a series of elaborate glitches, that break open the gen 3 pokemon games into letting you run your PC box names as code, enabling you to do pretty much anything you want. to be upfront, i'm not an expert on ACE - i understand it in an overarching conceptual sense and am able to follow ACE guides just fine, but i cannot write my own ACE code, which essentially requires you to know some GBA assembly. doesn't really matter for the purpose of this story though.
you can see an example of a tiny snippet of a larger ACE code with the PC box name below. it looks like gibberish but that's because every character used in the name corresponds to a specific internal value, which when all run together, is code!
i need ACE in FRLG because resetting for, or RNG manipulating (more on that in a moment), trainer ID (and secret ID, also more on that later) is pretty much impossible. ACE will allow me to change my TID to 02018 by essentially just telling the game to do so with my PC boxes. this requires me to set up ACE in emerald first since that's the only game with a viable entrypoint, and then use emerald ACE to make glitch pokemon that can activate ACE in FRLG when traded over.
as for RNG manipulation, that's a bit more straightforward, especially if you've ever watched a speedrun of... pretty much anything with random chance in it. games with random chance are not actually fully random because computers can't really be fully random, and in the older pokemon games with unencrypted and less advanced RNG (random number generator) algorithms, this is pretty easy to exploit.
this is a heavy simplification, but whenever you encounter a wild pokemon in RSE or FRLG, the amount of frames that have passed since the game was turned on are compared to a number that was generated upon boot, called the RNG seed. if you've ever played minecraft you can compare this to world seeds - the pokemon RNG seed determines all possible wild encounters in that play session in a similar fashion as minecraft determining the infinite terrain layout. this comparison determines every aspect of an encountered pokemon; its species, nature, IVs, and so on. so, if you were able to time your wild encounter (or any other type of pokemon encounter) down to the 1/60th of a second frame, you can get the game to spit out whatever pokemon you want at you! you just need a bit of typically invisible information first - the RNG seed, and if you're RNGing a shiny, your secret ID aka SID, which is like an invisible second trainer ID generated alongside your TID that is paired up with the TID and compared against any pokemon you encounter to determine if it should be shiny or not. both of these things can be figured out without hacking or tampering with games/save files.
the most common program used for all things RNG manipulation is called pokefinder and you can see an example of it spitting out what shinies are available on hoenn's first route in the first 100000 frames of the game being on with an RNG seed of 0 and my old TID/SID combo below. it's pretty damn cool to me tbh, i love RNG manipulation and i'm way more versed on it/experienced than i am with ACE
TLDR; rng manipulation is essentially a frame perfect, speedrunning-adjacent trick to get the game to roll the RNG in your favor, including for perfect IVs or shininess. for reasons that will become clear later, this is much easier to do in emerald than any other gen 3 game, so i will be using emerald for the RNG manipulation of the girafarig egg
with ALL of that context out of the way, this was the gameplan:
play through a fresh file of japanese firered (i don't own japanese leafgreen, RIP) all the way through the postgame to unlock trading with hoenn with the name PPさん, not worrying about TID for now. the guide i was following did not have a code for changing name with ACE in japanese FRLG specifically, so i figured playing the game again real quick would be a better alternative to trying to teach myself assembly in an afternoon LOL
set up ACE in my new emerald file i completed recently
use ACE in emerald to generate the glitch pokemon needed to run ACE in FRLG and trade them over. finalize the setup process over in FRLG too
look up possible gentle, ability 2, female, and shiny egg frames, and pick one that looks good to RNG manipulate in emerald, noting its PID (an encounter-specific ID number, pretty much)
figure out what SID, when combined with a TID of 02018, will cause that egg frame to be shiny - that way when the egg is traded over and hatched in firered, it will be shiny
do the RNG in emerald, trade over the to-be-shiny egg to firered, and hatch it after changing the TID/SID with ACE appropriately!! bam female, gentle, early bird, shiny, JP origin girafarig with an OT of PPさん and a visible TID of 02018. Pog!!
to execute that gameplan would take me an entire day, though...
step 1: play through firered
ok gonna be honest this is the ONE part of this entire process that i did not play on original hardware. i wanted to get to the Cool Parts of this process so i decided to play through firered on emulator. absolutely terrible picture sorry but i do actually own japanese firered, so i could dump the game legally to my computer to use speedup in mGBA with a little device called the Joey JR which connects the cart to my computer by USB like so
after that it was pretty much a relatively normal playthrough but obviously with emulator speedup. i used solely my starter blastoise to, well, blast through the rest of the game LMAO. after just a couple of hours or so i was right before the elite four, which i completed while in the car after moving the save file back to my cartridge with the same device, since i had to leave the house to go to a doctor appointment. i tried to take pictures of me beating the game but the sun was not doing the photos any favors lol. blastoise ended up being level 76 by the end. was easy with surf and an ice beam TM from the game corner (i just bought the coins)
unfortunately beating the game isn't the only requirement for trading with the hoenn games, so i also had to complete the whole sevii islands postgame quest... which required me to have 60 registered owned entries in the pokedex, which i wasn't really doing while speeding through the game initially, so i had a lot of mons to catch. i was still out of the house at this point (and playing at normal speed lol) so i wasn't really taking pictures, but i did make a stop at the power plant to look for an electabuzz despite it being an inefficient 5% since i needed a spare anyways for my leafgreen file unrelated to this story lmao. took a pic of it since it took a while to show up. anyway soon enough the dex had 60+ entries! i've played FRLG so many times that the encounter locations are memorized in my mind... i did all of this with no googling asdfkasfd
at this point i got home and was able to do the ruby/sapphire postgame quest on emulator with speedup again, so it was pretty easy. moved the save back to cart and i was done with step 1! obviously this didn't actually take me 21 hours of playtime, that was the emulator speedup's fault loool. from here on out i didn't touch any emulators again!
step 2: set up ACE in emerald
ACE time! i've actually set up ACE in an old emerald file before but i wanted to do it again fresh. i was following a guide pretty much to a T so i'm actually going to skip over the details of some of the steps since you can read about those more in depth over at the guide i was using if you want
TLDR; you have to trade for the NPC trade pokemon, DOTS the seedot and PLUSES the plusle, then EV train DOTS a specific way. these EV values cause DOTS to turn into a glitch pokemon egg 0x0611 when corrupted with the pomeg glitch (more on that in a bit), which, when hatched, runs the PC box names as code, aka ACE! why does it work? if you really want to know, there's plenty of stuff online about it, i'm not the best person to ask haha
it's worth noting that volbeat is really annoying to capture in emerald as it's literally only available as a 1% in one patch of grass, so i caught an illumise instead and bred them until a volbeat hatched lol. was much more efficient
also lol "Take good care of DOTS!" sorry i will be corrupting your son into demonspawn that lets me wield godlike control over your universe
after getting the necessary NPC trade pokemon all ready and moving them into a specific pattern in box 2 (i cloned them with the emerald tower cloning glitch) i had to perform the pomeg glitch. this involves using a pomeg berry to decrease a pokemon's health to 0 without causing a whiteout. this is achieved by getting a pokemon with at least 8 HP EVs to 1 HP and then using the pomeg berry on it, decreasing the EVs and taking off a point of health in the process (it's slightly more steps than this but whatever). i decided to use the camerupt i had during my playthrough of the game for this purpose. just took him to fiery path to get poisoned and walked until he was on 1 HP and healed him with an antidote lol
by doing the pomeg glitch and entering a wild battle, the game gets a bit confused since all the pokemon in your party are fainted and just sends out some sort of glitch decamark pokemon. in this situation, after viewing my camerupt's summary in battle and exiting back out of the summary screen, i was able to corrupt the DOTS and PLUSES sitting in my PC by scrolling up above the usual limit of the party menu, which reaches into data used by the first two PC boxes and fucks them up, ending up with, assuming that i EV trained correctly, a glitched egg that is about to hatch in a nest ball named DOTS with pokerus. this will run ACE when hatched! (if you want more info on this corruption pomeg stuff, check out the bulbapedia article for glitzer popping. yes that's what they named it)
step 3: use emerald ACE to set up firered ACE
so once again you can find a lot more detail on this process over at the guide i was using, but the TLDR of the matter was, i needed to put a bunch of codes into my PC box names to generate a few different glitch mons. specifically, i needed a egg that would hatch into a crobat (yes, fully evolved lol) with a singular glitched out move, that when used in battle in firered, would cause ACE to happen similar to how hatching the corrupted DOTS egg causes ACE to happen in emerald. i also needed a specific buggy shiny umbreon and a very strange glitchy egg.
even though this step was mostly a lot of tedious typing on the gen 3 keyboard (+ i had to redo things once because i made a typo at one point in the process LOL) it was so much fun! the game breaks in so many ways that you would just... never see during normal gameplay and it makes for some really good pictures and whatnot
first of all, when you hatch the 0x0611 egg, it hatches into a decamark of varying colors, in the case of the picture below it's almost imperceptible because the whole sprite is just a black circle, blending in with the background (sorry for the quality on this one, it's a screencap of a video clip i took).
additionally, trying to scroll over the hatched decamark in the PC or viewing its summary screen will crash the game, so to get rid of it, it has to be moved to the front of your party in the party menu, and then you go to the PC to release it through the deposit menu. since the cursor just defaults to the first position of the party and you don't have to scroll over to it, it's possible to release it from here.
oh yes and the umbreon/other glitch egg? similarly screwy - actually after generating them, their sprites are glitched out until you reset the game, so they look like this. behold their nonsense summaries:
after i had all i needed to trade to FRLG, i cloned an extra set of them with the emerald tower glitch again just in case i messed something up and got to trading! here's me receiving them on the firered side:
and last but not least, i'm a little obsessed with the way the glitch move looks in FRLG on the hatched crobat, absolute nonsense:
i finalized setting up the FRLG ACE (check out the guide i linked earlier for more info) and put everything into their proper positions, but before i could actually execute any code... i needed to know what SID i was going for!
step 4 + 5: look up potential egg frames in emerald and find an SID
soo now for looking at potential girafarig eggs. instead of using the program pokefinder which i mentioned earlier, i used a program called pokenav egg rng tool, which is exactly what it sounds like, a tool specialized for rng manipulating eggs with the pokenav in emerald. using it, i was quickly able to generate a whole list of gentle, female, ability 2 (early bird) eggs, and i picked one that was around 1300 frames in since that made for quick resetting attempts, but not so quick that i could barely make my inputs in time. the one i picked was frame 1381. with a TID of 02018, the PID D2C5EF55 would be shiny with an SID of 14962, so i noted that for later in firered. (i figured this out using an old program called RNG Reporter which is what i'm familiar with but i don't recommend using lmao. it's the "Pandora's Box" feature of that software though if you happen to look it up)
i won't make an entire guide on how to do emerald egg RNG here because it's a lot of steps, but i might at some point because the most up to date method isn't super well documented. anyways, here's a very paraphrased version of the process (this is also assuming that you aren't dealing with "redraws", which i wasn't... like i said very paraphrased):
get a pokemon with the ability lightningrod in the front of your party (i used electrike) to make pokenav calls happen more frequently, and a pokemon with flame body or magma armor (i used slugma) to make eggs hatch faster
get a male and a female of the pokemon you want to hatch, in my case girafarig. if you were RNGing IVs, the parent's IVs would be relevant, but i am not RNGing IVs so i didn't care and just caught the first girafarig i could in the safari zone
an egg is attempted to be generated every 255 steps after the parents are deposited in the daycare together, so by timing the usage of a max repel in such a way, it's easy to save the game exactly 10 steps before an egg is generated. do this
using a timer such as eontimer, soft reset and try to take that last 10th step on your target frame. this will also trigger a pokenav call (or lack thereof) and by looking for the phone call you got in the call column of the egg rng tool and whether or not an egg generated at the daycare, you can tell what frame you hit. didn't hit your target? just soft reset and try again, calibrating the timer for your own human error. this can take a while since the timing is precise to 1/60th of a second
once you hit your target frame, woohoo you did it just take the egg and hatch it! if you're RNGing IVs you would actually save before taking the egg and then RNG the IVs separately but that's a whole different thing i'm not explaining here since i wasn't RNGing IVs
i've avoided mentioning it this entire time till now, but emerald is particularly easy to do rng manipulation in because due to a programming error, the rng seed is always 0 - all encounters are predictable and you don't have to dedicate a frame perfect input to getting the right seed, making emerald rng a matter of one frame perfect input instead of two (there ARE ways to get emerald to generate a proper rng seed but that's unrelated here). additionally, its pokenav system means you can see if you got the right egg BEFORE taking it and hatching it... doing egg RNG in any other gen 3 game is basically a death sentence due to multiple untelegraphed frame perfect inputs that have to be executed in a row, plus really long wait times due to hatching eggs on a slower bike without flame body. there's a reason i was not doing this on four island in frlg.
but yeah now i knew what egg frame i was going for and was all prepared to do the RNG, so now it was onto actually executing it all:
step 6: getting kaf girafarig babey!!
before doing the RNG manipulation in emerald, i needed to change my SID and TID in firered finally! this required me to run two different codes, one for SID and one for TID. it was actually pretty painless since the code is nearly identical for both, you just swap out the values of each ID and one character changes in one box name to decide whether you're changing TID or SID. you can find the list of codes i was referencing here.
i was saving my one allotted video clip in this post for changing the TID with the glitched crobat move though because LMAO
^ shoutout to my qpp @/spikyearr for this one i fucking chokedSKFDDSFK
anyway, after doing that i went through the process of the egg rng in emerald (unfortunately no pictures because it's kind of hard to take pics mid-rng) and actually saved before taking the egg so that i'd be able to soft reset after hatching it - i just needed to check to make sure it was gentle and everything, and then i could soft reset, take the egg again, bike around to decrease the egg cycles in emerald since hatching in firered is super slow, and then trade it off before hatching it to go be hatched in firered. i knew it wouldn't be shiny in emerald, so i wasn't concerned with that. it only took 40 or so minutes of attempts before i got her!
and then AT LAST after spending my ENTIRE DAY ON THIS SHIT (like 10x the amount of time on the ACE stuff for the TID instead of the actual RNG itself LOOOL) i just had to trade the egg to firered and hatch it and i was golden!!!!! AAAGH here she is next to my kaf plushies!!!
also a picture of her summary screen after being traded to my english leafgreen!! i am assuming this will be easier to read for most of the people reading this post LOL
THAT'S IT. POST OVER THIS WAS SO LONG. IF YOU MADE IT THROUGH MY RAMBLING GOOD JOB. I HIT THE PHOTO LIMIT HELP ME
anyways yeah i'm gonna be ribbon mastering her and idk i might post about the process as i go. not immediately though i have a platinum playthrough to finish teehee. also if any of this was interesting to you i highly recommend trying out RNG manipulation, it's a really fun way to play pokemon games! gen 5, BW specifically and not their sequels, is REALLY beginner friendly for RNG manipulation as the timing is a lot less precise. check it out, there's plenty of guides online!!
#pokemon#pokemon rse#rse#pokemon frlg#frlg#rng manipulation#arbitrary code execution#girafarig#ribbon mastering#kiki was here#kiki.txt#long post#kiki plays games
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Okay i was looking at some tags and saw yours regarding how Raphael knew to make the hammer. We're never given a timeline so it's unclear when he made it BUT in regards to how he knew about Orpheus I had a theory that's becoming more and more sound the more I think about it.
Raphael knew about the Emperor since the very start. He's showcased this when he first meets you and mentions the tadpole in your head (he's not just referring to the literal tadpole in your brain). We know he knows about the existence of the Emperor because when we meet him at Sharess' Caress, he straight up shuts us off from the Emperor. I think it's one of those things that subtly hints how powerful the likes of beings like Raphael are. And of course this means he knew about Orpheus.
Now, we've seen Raphael literally just pop into the Astral Prism on a whim after you betray the Emperor and if you didn't take his deal in Sharess' Caress or steal his hammer (not killing him essentially). So the question is "why couldn't he have just done all this himself, why bother with us if he is that powerful?"
Because the Emperor was there.
That's why he pops in the MOMENT the Emperor physically leaves that realm. The Emperor is his biggest enemy in regards to influencing you (they're both essentially opposite sides of the same coin. Both manipulate you, both want you on their side, you're super crucial to their ultimate goal/freedom. The Emperor wants to be ultimately free from the influence of the Netherbrain, Raphael wants to become the ultimate Archdevil because the one with the most power in the Hells has ultimate freedom). That's why he immediately shuts him off the moment you step foot in his room at Sharess' Caress, why every time you being up the Emperor, Raphael gets hella annoyed/very serious (and it vice versa for the Emperor, warning you adamantly not to go into the Hells because of your safety AND because his influence cannot each you there). Raphael always knew that Orpheus was there, he just couldn't risk it while the Emperor was there as he's not only an illithid but a pretty powerful one. Raphael's diaries showcased how he genuinely feared the presence and plague of the illithids and Korilla tells you that illithids "make terrible clients" (basically non of Raphael's infernal tricks can do much because they're already of a hive mind. The Emperor, not under any influence just showcases that he's MUCH more powerful and a threat than any regular illithid). Can you imagine what it would be like to have Raphael and the Emperor in a scene together? That would be amazing!
Sorry if this got incoherent. Am writing on a phone in a car rn 😂
🥺 Thank you for enabling me! I haven't had a chance to rant about Raphael and the House of Hope for a while... (AlSO I love your Raphael gifs, bless. 💞✨) I am also working but I can't resist the reply so. Messy.
The Hammer and the timeline is something I am honestly SO CURIOUS about. We know that Raphael had dreams about the impending illithid debacle, but not necessarily when... I suppose those dreams could have occurred early enough for Raphael to investigate the truth and then come up with a plan to assist with the process.
However, the very concept of Raphael dreaming about this potentially universe altering shift as a warning is so intriguing. Did this come about under divine influence? Was it because of some sort of artifact or attachment Raphael has with an ability to precognition? I imagine something like divining or altering aspects of the future would appeal to him, but it seems TOO BIG a thing to leave unmentioned behind the scenes. (Unless it was meant to be revealed with additional content, a form of excuse or method he might survive Mephistopheles. But I believe there's no intended additional content as of release so... unlikely?)
I'm assuming Raphael investigated the illithid and the Absolute and knew what Gortash was up to. He'd probably have kept tabs on him even after he "escaped". That is also curious to me, the fact that Raphael would not try to retrieve him as an asset-- since he would see the loss of any asset as an affront to his power and pride... I'm assuming they probably had some sort of deal that if Gortash left the House of Hope he'd be free, and so Raphael kept him prisoner literally thereafter? Give me backstory Larian, pls.
Perhaps the dreams were not as dramatic as Raphael presented them. Maybe they were normal dreams if he was already keeping up with the plan for the absolute and trying to figure out how to use the situation to his advantage. If he was already aware of their plans, not insane to think with his discomfort at the concept he'd essentially have nightmares when the whole scenario puts his dreams at risk. Also I'm sure the idea of an escaped asset winning his dream artifact (crown that makes you a god) would make him feel sick and furious enough to have nightmares... (do all devils dream or is that just like, a side effect of him being a cambion?)
As for the Emperor, I'm assuming you're right and Raphael was aware of the Emperor early on through those plans. Feasibly as early as the gate before the Emperor was sent to retrieve the prism? I'm iffy on how long it might take to build a hammer like that, or where Raphael got the knowledge to do so however. (Note to self, look up passage of time in the hells?? Is it linear to the prime material, or does it vary like the feywilds?)
I do wish there was more direct interaction, since as you said the two are almost different options for the same endgame. Raphael goes all cards in assuming that Tav & Co would never choose an illithid over a charming devil like himself. He suggests the "devil you know" and then goes out of his way to be more forthright and theoretically trustworthy than the Emperor who is constantly trying to keep you out of his business and focused on what he wants. Instead, Raphael invites you to his home, makes you familiar with his nature immediately. He doesn't even demand your soul for the Hammer.
Tbh the scene where he cuts off the Emperor with a snap was fascinating to me, an absolute turning point for my Tav for their relationship with the Emperor. I thought it was haunting and a reality check as to how deep they are in these machinations, between these powerful entities, just by being in the wrong place at the right time.
They're both fascinating and the same in the worst ways (depending on perspective IG) but also so different. I have a lot of feelings about the Emperor too actually! They're so fun. But yeah 100% you are right. Though I think Raphael would also hate illithid because they'd be a terrible audience. Would the Emperor appreciate his little songs and scripted plays? No. And given the nature of illithid devils have almost no reason to deal with them, unless it was strategic maybe. Theoretically, there's not a soul to be had?
I think Raphael would be annoyed trying to script encounters with the Emperor, and that whole presentation and structure is important for him. It's where he gets his confidence and sense of control, which is why he is also furious if you break your role and betray the plot of his plans. There are different paths to dealing with him and Raphael plans those encounters, but if you disrespect him by stealing the hammer he is offering so generously (for a devil) he is Done. Just like the Emperor is also very Order oriented and seeing Tav and Co as assets tbh.
I'm personally of the mind that the Emperor was the illithid that infected you and the party during/just before the attack on the nautiloid. He knew the gith would follow and he needed new "thralls" or agents to do the work he could not when he needed to keep Orpheus and also cannot truly navigate the open world as an illithid. I've seen arguments against this of course, but I don't see the Emperor as Good or Evil. The Emperor is ultimately selfish, even though he himself would rebel from the nature of the hive mind, he still looks down on those who are not evolved (non-illithids). He sees himself as even greater than other illithids, given his personal power and history and the fact that he managed to escape the elder brain. I think the Emperor turning the group Makes Sense. It doesn't change the fact that it did protect you and guide you back to the Gate... but above all things the Emperor just wants you to be good agents and do what he plans so the brain is destroyed. Not accounting for his personal curiosity at how you advance with these altered tadpoles and how different from him yet the same you can become.
Personally I think the Emperor is fascinating and his writing is good. Its interesting that the Emperor is as flexible as the player. He responds to you based off what would please or position you the way he wants. He sort of acts like the player character in that to him you're the companion and he is doing what it takes to get your Approval. And if he can't have your approval, he will struggle for your obedience. (Or so he says.) They're very similar but different.
I hadn't considered that Raphael could handle retrieving the crown himself by trying to free Orpheus on his lonesome just because... game structure tbh haha, but that's a valid point. Feasibly, you could consider that Raphael could use the hammer himself to free Orpheus... (Or send some hired entities or assets...)-- the gith have made deals with Devils before etc. And Orpheus will cooperate to keep the illithid threat at bay. However, Raphael is so theatrical I think he'd see narrative dissonance in such a choice for himself as well. The whole structure of the wayward heroes crowning him after they save the universe etc is in his wet dreams. But I can also see that considering the Emperor... it is probably smarter than Raphael, though perhaps less cunning in terms of creative plotting. They're two "masterminds", and Raphael might have feared crossing threads directly. While the Emperor killing him might just send him back to the hells.... I'm not sure if that weakens devils or if they lose anything in that exchange? Regardless I'm sure Raphael would rather avoid death, and the Emperor would probably gun for his death if at all possible given how furious it gets about Raphael's involvement.
#molinaesque#ask#bg3 Raphael#bg3 spoilers#jsjsbs sorry for the insane length on this reply i responded between tasks.... .....#thank you! 👏✨
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Hiiiii
I hope you're doing good, not good criticism aside.
Now, this chapter 🧑🍳💋 as always
There's so much to unpack good god.
The fact that Bruce forced everyone on an outing bc missy I ignore and isolate my daughter and then get mad when she goes looking for a more receptive father figure? It's so dad of him lol. Like, you're the one basically forcing your daughter to go look for love demonstrations that actually make her feel loved and not controlled, attention, understanding and quality time and then have the audacity to be mad, plan a shitty trip and then disappear. Honey, thanks for trying but you gave us absolutely nothing.
Dick mentioning how it was him and Bruce the ones to take Robin away from her says a lot about his character. I swear to god am equal parts attracted to your Richard as much as I am holding a personal Vendetta. Girl, get out of the stage please (and he's reenacting Mia's Goth "Please I'm a star!" Scream while we kick him out).
I don't feel good about being proved right like Barbara, good god, I feel so fucking bad 😭😭😭😭.
Jay bird baby, why are you out here proving me right? I don't wanna be. I need the fanon uwu coquette version of him to heal my heart. When he was I'm going back without any regard for batsis? Girl, I needed to take a deep breath and hold onto my heart pieces. Jay, Jason, my love, no. Immediately no. That was literally your only line.
Damian, and I AM biased, love you. He's so intense lmao, same boy, same. But when Nadia came? I put down my phone and punched a pillow. I could never. I'd probably die hahahahhaah
Can't hate her, she's giving enabling bad influence young aunt and I love it. Dick, you're stepping up to your nickname hun.
Also, the scene by the lake? Sorry, I literally want to slobber him up and hydrate his beautiful caramel skin with my saliva and tears cause he's so hot and then kick him in the balls and assure he doesn't have any offspring that could potentially come out as dumbassy as him. But him getting to know about Damian? Hihihihihihi I was rubbing my hands together.
This is just where my imagination went, batsis with Damian and Jon (sorry, I just love them together, they make a great pair and balance each other out). Dick's face would be so fucking funny.
Also, not him being "you shouldn't continue that". Shut up. The fact that you hurt her doesn't give you the right to assume Damian would. At least not the same way as you. And we all know he has already begun to ruin her opportunities at getting to know decent people (as Nikolai is described as) so don't act like you actually have her best interests in mind. You are so hypocritical Richard Grayson agh.
Also, Jon as always being THE knight in shining armour that he is coming to save the day. Dear heavens, can he be anymore sweethearty? Impeccable job, as always Jonathan Kent, immaculate. Clark, we salute you. Thank you for healing us and giving us a speck of hope in man kind (by this I mean actually men, not humans).
I may be a bit disillusioned with the girls. Come on sugar, please include your little sister innnnnnn. Barbara, stop being my representation in the story, I can't stand it. I just don't want to be right about the boys 😩
But it hurts so good!1!1!1!1!1!!1!1!1!
Anyways, thanks for such an amazing chapter.
Ignore people who don't appreciate it. I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
Xoxo - 🫀
Ah, you have no idea how happy it makes me that you slid in here before I shut off my anons!!!
This is totally a shitty dad trip, this is for real a thing my dad used to do when I was a kid lmao. Dick is the mooooost complicated one of them all simply because batsis is like a piece of his childhood. I mean he was in his teens when she was adopted, but she was around long enough to know him from top to bottom. Much like Bruce he's got this caged bird attachment to her haha He does think he's doing good for her by steering her away from Damian and others, but it's the kind of 'I'm sure i'm right' that just so happens to align with the fact that he wants to wait until he's good enough for her. Jon is a very very lovely guy! Clark raised a good boy, but I hope everyone remembers that they're also superheroes! And aliens, who canonically don't experience or understand the entire range of human emotions. The venn diagram is only almost a circle. The truth is, most of these boys have been shot, stabbed, torn apart, mind controlled, broken every bone both indidivually and together, murdered and brought back to life in a goo that makes you crazy, broken then put back together both correctly and incorrectly emotionally and mentally; wooooof they are not okay. But they want to be! For her! They just have to learn a hard lesson first! Bruce has set the example that your civillian life is where you cut corners and make sacrifices- which does not bode well for batsis, who is attracted to people who were raised by him haha. Not to mention, her entire existence is her civillian life. Bad luck fr! Things will get better! Remember this leads into KMM where everything is sexy and happy! Thanks as always for dropping in. As you can guess it was pretty discouraging knowing I put like 90,000 words into creating this universe as a whole and then having someone tear it down with a few hundred. I very much needed this <3333
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BE FREE IF YOU NEED TO BE.... i just got over a 2 year long breakup and i thought i would never be able to date again and that no one would like me. But thats not true!!!! You are young and you have TIME!!!!!! You should live freely!!!!!!!!!! Break up if you want.! You dont need to immediately look for a partner, you can take a break if you need to! If you really want to, you'll find another person, someone who you will love, but you dont need to! You can be single and be happy then. You can be happy....!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
this will be the third year that I'm in a relationship with them and like it's fine it was never bad like the last time I dated someone I just thought one day "so this is it, I won't get anything else" and immediately dumped him due to that (now I think that he was also using me, but if I break up now I will think the samw about the current one) but idk I didn't feel like that
it's been like 5 years between dumping the previous one and meeting the current one so like I think I know that I cannot handle being single in the sense that I will latch onto ANY guy that just exist in my vicinity like by 2020 they didn't even have to talk to me, it was just a guy that worked nearby and I never spoke to him and still managed to get obsessed and hurt myself so I handle being single very badly
maybe now that I had that stability I'm missing that need for being obsessive because he's just there, anytime I want, just like I wanted, so why am I complaining
also I'm a big baby that won't go shopping without help so I kinda need need someone to be there with me and a partner fits that role nicely
I sometimes feel like if I allowed myself to go shopping alone I'd only buy junk and alcohol so I only limit that to when I'm enabled to go shopping by someone else
and it's not that I don't love him, it's just that usually when I felt I loved someone it was just pain and unfulfilled wishes and rejection and now it's just there, again, like I wanted, I didn't even have to fight for it he just came by himself and asked me so I should be thankful but I sometimes miss it
I can't even get myself to feel this pain of obsession when he's away because he's mostly away, but he always returns so the pain just occurs VERY RARELY usually when I feel like he will leave
so maybe I do love him if it does still hurt when I feel like he will leave, but I'm worried about being indifferent, I shouldn't be but I sometimes feel like that
sometimes, I just sit there and randomly think "I hate him so much" but I never tell him that because how would I explain that I don't mean it in a way that I want him to go away but I feel I just hate him and many many times wish he would just shut up but then I'm sad when he doesn't speak and i worry i did something wrong because he stopped talking and think he must hate me
it's just, maybe it's too good, maybe I'm waiting for a disaster to happen, maybe I really did not beg enough to deserve him and he will leave any moment
especially if I continue getting worse like this
I'm sorry for rambling
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harbinger ( drabble one ft. patrick & myungdae )
He smiles knowing this is going to be the last time his dear friend will see him.
a/n: hey so remember when i said i was tempted to write patrick’s goodbye letter/audio message/note? well alex and xia enabled me ( THANK YOU SO MUCH ) and this happened fjskldj also interpretation of lee hyuk belongs to alex at @jeoseungsaja ( except i consider lee hyuk to be alex’s oc sorry these are only facts JFKLSDJF )
words: 823 words
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September 20th, 2016
*The video starts; he’s sitting at his desk with his room in the background. It’s not completely visible, but his apartment is messier than usual. There are books and folders and files strewn everywhere, some of them peeking into the camera. His bed behind him is unmade. He looks more bedraggled than usual too, with his hair messy, his skin a bit more ashen, and not to mention the bags beneath his eyes are more prominent. Like he hasn’t seen the light of day in weeks.*
*He stares back into the camera for a long moment as if to check if the video is recording. And then he glances up and coughs discreetly into his hand. Clearly, he’s not used to doing this.*
“Right…uh, so today is September 20th, 2016. It’s a Wednesday at 10:04 PM, GMT Time Zone.”
*He chuckles albeit nervously before scratching his cheek. A look up as he smiles bashfully.*
“Hello, Hyuk. Surprised to see this? Neither of us are exactly wizards when it comes to technology and I suppose it’s not quite like me, using technology when pen and paper is readily available. But I…for some reason, I wasn’t able to quite put this on paper. Forgive me- it most likely would be safer for you to receive this as a letter rather than through here. You would have said it yourself- you never know who is watching. I suppose you can double that number when it comes to using the ‘dark web’.
“I got on a tangent there. Let me get to the point. If you’re watching this, I’m going to assume the worst-case scenario has happened and I…I’m not with the living anymore.”
*Suddenly, he chuckles. It’s not forced, but it doesn’t sound jubilant either.*
“My apologies, it most likely doesn’t for you, but I guess it sounds a little silly, me saying that. Maybe I am exaggerating this; maybe I’m being unnecessarily obstinate. Maybe I’m just going to hit a dead end and all of this is going to be for nothing, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t just it let rest. I needed to see for myself if she, she was meant to-“
*He blinks rapidly and looks away from the camera for a moment. A hand scrubs at the corner of his eye.*
“…Sorry. Anyways, I know what you’re probably thinking; why didn’t I tell you? Actually if you happen to get ahold of this in any other scenario, I think I know what you would say.”
*He puts on his best Hyuk voice and though his voice sounds mock angry and it’s easy to see he’s trying not to laugh.*
“Yah- why didn’t you tell me this sooner, pabo- don’t you know that I’m a pigeon- I’m coming back whether you like it or not, we’re stuck together you know that!”
*And then he breaks his impression with a genuine laugh and shakes his head.*
“I’m sorry. I didn’t-it’s not that I didn’t want you to know, but if you found out, I have a feeling you would’ve dropped everything to come over and I know they assigned your current case because of me. You’ve already done so much for me and I’ve relied too much on it. On you. I haven’t been that great of a friend these last few months either. I’m sorry; I know I should have reached out more, been a better friend to you.
“But that’s not why I made this. I guess, I just…wanted you to have this, again, in case anything happens to me. If that does end up being the reality, please…please don’t give up. There are still a lot of good things in this world, Hyuk. A lot of good people, people worth protecting and getting to know. You’re not alone in this world. I know you’re going to probably shut yourself away for a while, grieve me for even longer- do so for as long as you need to and when you’re ready, go forward. It’s not good to hold onto things for longer than needed- that’s why I’m probably going to be considered a fool by the end of this. Don’t make the same mistakes I did, Hyuk.”
*Silence. The lamp on his desk flickers.*
“…Do one thing for me though? Drink some hot chocolate for me once in while. Make sure you do the things that make you happy- if not for yourself then because I asked you to.”
*He glances at the bottom of the screen.*
“I guess…this is getting a bit long, so I’ll end it here. I care about you. A lot, Hyuk. Please be well. Hopefully, you won’t have to watch this though and I can do all these things with you when this is over. But again, this isn’t going to be sent out unless the worst case happens to me.”
*He smiles knowing this is going to be the last time his dear friend will see him.*
“Take care, Hyuk-ah.”
*The video ends.*
.
.
.
fin.
#( writing. )#a true gentleman ( patrick. )#a knight is never without their sword ( myungdae. )#first time writing in this format so it was fun!! :D#hahaha regardless of which verse...hyuk gets to hear this one....#alex if you want to take me to court i'll go....BUT ALSO YOU'RE GOING DOWN WITH ME :'D#THANK YOU TO YOU AND XIA FOR ENABLING ME HERE JFSKLDJFLSDKJ F#not me sobbing over the fact that patrick sent this knowing that hyuk's in a place with bad reception#and therefore wouldn't receive this until the news got to him#i’m 🙃🙃🙃#myungdae five years later is just like 'famous last words this is the worst'#also if nell and alfred ever heard this#not alfred just being like '...no wonder he's on our backs YOU SENT HIM HERE D-: '#BUT ALSO ALEX!!! if any of this doesn't ring true to you regarding hyuk#pls let me know and i can change things!!#i have!! all ur memes and i am VERY EXCITED to get to them <3
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Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It
Criminal Minds x MINDHUNTER AU
Spencer Reid x Margaret Carr (OC)
Part 1: Ed Kemper.
Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.
warnings: graphic details of a real rape and murder case, like every trigger in the book, applies to this fic so read with caution (if you watch either show you're used to it, however), it's all real and did actually happen and I don't support any of it. strangers to lovers, mutual pining, flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr's daughter, her bio father is Jason Gideon
word count: 3.9K
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't having fun teaching.
He started with guest speaking, moving to special seminars a few times a year. But he wanted something more, settling for a 7-week criminal justice elective of his choosing.
Intro to Criminal Minds: why they did it. Giving Spencer an excuse to share the most intimate facts about serial offenders in a setting where no one could tell him to shut up.
14 students total signed up for the two-hour Seminar, taking place every Thursday at 11 am from September until Halloween. Over the 7 weeks, he would explain the fascinating insights of the most successful killers in the United States. Only asking that his students write about a prolific crime they find interesting by the end of term, for their full grade.
All he wanted was to read about obscure killers from around the world, from the perspective of aspiring profilers.
The first Thursday, he came prepared with his coffee a half hour before the class. He wanted to write the main points on the whiteboard in advance, nice and neatly.
To his surprise, a student was already there waiting for him. "Oh, hello,” he smiled softly.
She was sitting with a book in her hands, she pushed her glasses up her nose to look at him as he walked in. She was older than his typical student, around 35. Probably finishing up a degree or adding something to what she already had.
"Hi," she smiled at him. “Sorry, I’m early, I was visiting my mom at Quantico earlier.” She explained. "I'm not a teacher's pet or anything. Promise, I’m not even a student.”
It made him laugh slightly, correcting him like she read his mind. "It's okay, I'm Doctor Reid," he introduced himself softly.
“Margaret Carr, Peggy is also fine.”
"Pleasure to meet you," he said quickly before focusing his attention on the whiteboard.
He could feel her eyes on him the whole time he wrote, not wanting to turn around and catch her. "That's so interesting," he heard her mumble under her breath.
"Hmm?" He turned around.
"It's just that, everyday occurrences that never phase the regular person somehow cause psychopaths to kill," she read the board back to him.
"I was reading a study a while back about how psycho killers medulla oblongata is approximately 19% smaller than the average human’s. Based on the way they're nurtured as children affects if they grow up to kill. The ones that don't often end up in law enforcement and other positions of power where their psychopathic tendencies can come to play."
He was taken aback for a moment. He had never experienced a student who was like him before. Someone who just pulled facts into conversations like it was nothing.
"I read that as well," he smiled. "It is fascinating. The smallest amount of bullying and abuse from a mother or disappearance of a father figure can set them off."
"Or, on the other hand, there are people like Ted Bundy," she added. "He was well-loved and taken care of, but it went to his head. His god complex and affinity for lying led him to be incredibly charismatic and enabled his killing."
"You're very educated on this already; are you just interested in hearing me speak today?" He asked, not wanting her to leave, finding it interesting that she was there.
"Oh," she blushed. "I was going to talk to you more about it after the seminar actually."
“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you,” he felt a little giddy at the prospect.
"Thanks," she laughed. "Seriously though, I'm a big fan of your teaching style, I saw a few of your classes when my dad was teaching at the academy in 2005. It's a lot easier to remember facts if the lecturer genuinely loves what they're talking about."
"You're going to like this Seminar then. It’s basically just a way for me to get paid while unloading all the random facts I have,” he warned her with a smile.
"I know." She smiled back at him.
The rest of his students filed in slowly. By 11 am, 14 faces were staring back at him.
"Hello," he waved awkwardly. "I'm dr. Spencer Reid. For the last 12 years, I've worked with the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. Catching serial offenders across the country."
He took a deep breath, letting the nerves find their way out of him. "I've been asked time and time again who my favourite serial killer is, which is a peculiar way to phrase the question. It feels morally wrong to have a favourite in the way people do with baseball players.
"I am, however, fascinated with several serial offenders' reasoning and explanation for why they did what they did. Every single killer is different, but it all comes back to 1 thing. Do you know what that is?"
They all shook their heads. “What is your relationship with your parents like?" He asked.
Everyone in the room reacted; some students sighed, some rolled their eyes as they recalled their parents and childhoods to memory.
"When a person decides to kill, it's often never in the moment. It's in childhood. The majority of serial offender's stories start the same; their mother didn't love them, their father left. Someone at home abused them or put them down repeatedly."
"Thus, causing a hatred so primal to bubble. No matter how hard they try and fight it, the bubble always bursts. They go from fantasizing to killing in retaliation for their abuse, taking the anger out in stages."
He referred to the board. "Every killer has a stressor and a trigger—something that causes the urge to bubble and the event that causes the bubble to rupture.”
"Edmund Kemper is a fascinating example of this. He grew up with a family for the first few years of his life before his father fully abandoned them. His mother handled the situation by turning her anger onto her son; it was his fault his father left, he looked just like him, Ed was just another useless man who would never amount to anything," he emphasized the words. Hoping the class sees the effects words have on children.
"He started by cutting up dolls, stealing his sister's barbies and cutting their heads off. In his mind, he was getting out his anger and hatred for how his mother saw him. She hated men, causing him to mature with a warped idea of what women are truly like."
"His attraction to killing worsened his mother's hatred; she could tell something was wrong with him, that he didn't react to everyday situations the way he should. By the time he was ten, she was locking him in the basement for days on end, telling him he was a monster and her biggest regret."
"The change in her rage amplified his own. He hated hearing her speak. He hated the way she walked around, thinking she was better than him. That just because she was a mother and a working woman, she deserved respect and submissive’s. All he could see was a woman with a big head who needed to be humbled. This is the moment when the psychotic side of his brain blended his hatred of his mother with how good it felt to kill."
"Is that why he, you know?" Peggy cut in, running her finger along her neck as she pretended to cut her head off.
He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile, nodding. "His signature, as it's called, was decapitation. But more specifically necrophiling the severed head of his victims."
The whole class let out a disgusted noise, Peggy and Spencer making eye contact while they shrugged, it wasn't news to them.
"At age ten, he moved from barbies to cats and dogs, never leaving them around for his mother to see. While he hated her, he was also absolutely terrified of her. Breading a special type of killer. When you think of school shooters or preferential predators, what do they have in common?" He asked.
He pointed at a student in the back. "They have a specific type of victim they’re after?"
"Exactly. Most serial offenders want to go after the cause of their pain or attraction. However, Ed wasn't able to kill the source of his rage for a long time. His mother mentally abused him so intensely that he believed she was in control of him and that her opinion of him mattered. He saw her as his God, he loved her, but he also knew that he disappointed her.
"He ran away soon after to find his father. Travelling to California, only to be told he was unwanted there as well. It wasn't just his mother that his father was escaping; it was the fundamental aspect of family that he didn't want. Ed defiantly didn't want to go back to his mother after that, so he moved in with his paternal grandparents."
He kept catching the looks on Peggy's face. She knew the story already, waiting patiently to hear the words he chose to make the horrific acts seem a little more conversational.
"His grandmother was exactly like his mother. If I had to guess, his father most likely had a distaste for his own mother and thus divorced Ed's mom. Only he never grew up to be a killer, just an absent father—his absence doing to Ed what never happened to him."
"Ed killed his grandparents when he was 15. Telling the police and his therapists that they had beaten him constantly, they refused to feed him and called him names. He said he snapped from the trauma; it was self-defence."
Peggy laughed to herself, making him smile softly. "Sending him to a mental hospital instead of a juvenile facility was the worst thing they could've done for him," Spencer added.
"Why?" A student asked.
"Ed is a psychopath." He reminded them. "He doesn't feel empathy the way we do. You can admit that you feel bad for him, yes? If you understand why he killed people, it doesn't make you sick, like him, it makes you human. You see a hurt person hurting others; Ed Kemper sees himself as a new sort of God, choosing who dies, how and when."
"He was brilliant, having the exact IQ as I do," just a humblebrag, "the staff trusted him. He looked like an innocent boy, smart enough to take matters into his own hands for the betterment of his life. They gave him computer privileges, they let him work the front desk and file patient information. Giving him all the resources to learn about who he was inside and how to get away with it perfectly."
"Damn," another kid added. "When did he get out?"
"At 21.” He answered the student quickly. “Ed was interviewed by my mentor Jason Gideon, in the 70s. Where he explained that being locked up during his sexual prime, as well as the access to information, is what truly set him off more than his mother.
"He moved back in with her and his sister when he came out of the institution, immediately returning to the constant ridicule. He went from being told all the time that he was a smart and charming young man, capable of rehabilitation to a useless, no-good son, who would have been better off collecting in a condom or running down her leg."
The whole class laughed, shocked at his repetition of Ed's mother's words.
"He got his licence when he was released. And remember, this was prime time for hitchhiking in California; everyone and their mother walked the roads with a thumb in the air. It was the birth of free love and recreational marijuana usage. It was also the best hunting ground for a learning serial killer."
"He was able to pick women up, but like I said, missing his sexual prime while in an institution made him almost impotent. He didn't know how to speak to women; he had to create a fantasy in his mind every time, one that involved killing, before he could look at a woman."
"How did he get them in his car then?" A voice asked from the back.
"He was 6'9, 300lbs; he looked like a big teddy bear. And his mother was the local college administrative assistant, so the whole town knew him anyway. If Ed offered to give them a ride, it wouldn't be that bad, right?" Peggy turned around to face the class as she explained for Spencer, who just shook his head.
"He only wanted to rape the victims, originally," Spencer added. "But he couldn't. There was no release of the tension. The bubble that had been growing inside him was at its breaking point; he needed to just do it. Get it over with and move on."
"He killed 6 women in succession after that. Gaining the name "The Co-Ed Killer," well before anyone even suspected Ed Kemper," Spencer took a sip of coffee, feeling his throat start to dry as they reached the insane part.
"He was overly friendly with the cops; he wanted to get his record expunged and join the force.” Spencer finally continued. “Being told, "don't worry about your record, worry about your weight.""
"Most killers enjoy wearing a uniform for the power and talking to the police about their cases, in the hopes of gauging how smart they really are—taking pride in the fact that they are getting away with it for so long."
"He watched all the cop shows, and he read all the books. He knew that in order to get away with it, he had to do it where no one could trace it back to him. He knew he had to keep his cool and avoid looking obsessed with the case, but just curious enough to gain insight into how they thought he was doing it. It went on for years, and they had absolutely zero leads, finding headless bodies every few months before they finally received a call." He left them hanging, walking over to his sheet of paper and pretending to read it while they anticipated the catch.
"Ed always knew that he wanted to kill his mother. He just never knew when,” Spencer teased the story along. Noticing as the students fidgeted in their seats as they wondered what happened next.
“In his interview with Gideon, Ed said that he knew she would die 7 days before he killed her. He walked into her room that night to find her reading, with the audacity to ask if he wanted to come in and chat all night. Teasing him for the way he rambled to her. It was the last time she ever did that."
"It's hard to imagine his signature with the fact his second last victim was his mother," Peggy added, cringing at the thought.
"Wait," another student interjected. "Who was his last kill then if he only really wanted to kill her?"
"Remember how I said he lacked empathy?" Spencer asked. "He loved his mother in the same way a prisoner can end up loving their captor."
Peggy nods at the comparison, looking like she's never thought of it that way before, then smiling at him.
"You grow a bond through the trauma and when the only thing you've ever known is violence and hate, you don't know what to do when that's gone, it's hard to cope."
"He said he killed his mother so that she never had to know what he did. She'd never have to sit at his court hearings or be able to tell the media that she always knew he was a killer."
"His last kill was his mother's best friend," He finally answered the question.
"He didn't want his mother to be even more disappointed in him, but he also didn't want his mother's best friend to find her like that and be upset. So the obvious answer to him was to kill her too."
"What the fuck?" He heard a couple of kids say under their breath.
"Yeah," he agreed with an almost chuckle. "This is what I mean by their answers are fascinating. It makes so much sense to them; clearly, if I kill my mother, her friend will be upset, so the best answer would be to put her out of her misery as well. He sees them as objects, like a matching set. One would lose value without the other."
Everyone was silent then. The students took in all the information they had just received, staring up at him with a look of disgust mixed with wonder.
"Any questions?"
Peggy raised her hand for a change; he pointed towards her in approval. "You missed the part where he specifically took the heads from the three women before his mother and brought them back home with him. He buried them in the yard outside her bedroom window, making sure they were always looking up to her."
Spencer was amazed that she knew the details. "Yes, I guess I did."
"I always found that part particularly interesting in this case," Peggy added. "Her opinion mattered so much to him. He knew how much she loved her co-ed's and how they looked up to her so much. They'd be exactly like her. He felt trapped in a town of women who were exactly like his nightmare, and his response was to make them physically look up to her for the rest of her life."
"Exactly." Spencer smiled. "understanding how he sees the situation and how the events played out in his mind is the key in figuring out who he is."
"If you were on the case in '72 when the first victims were discovered, how would you have handled it, Dr. Reid?" A male student in the back asked in the silence between answers, taking his shot before Peggy and Spencer went any further in their discussion.
“That's a hard thing to answer, connecting evidence back then was a lot harder than it is today, if it wasn’t for men like Ed there wouldn’t really be this many answers,” Spencer said honestly.
Another student put her hand up, “what’s the worst thing he did in your opinion?”
That racked his brain, there was a handful of horrific things he did that were particularly horrific, “probably his mother's entire murder.”
“What did he do?”
Before Spencer could answer he saw Peggy open her mouth and start explaining. “He not only cut off her head and fucked her neck, but he also took her vocal cords out and shoved them down the garbage disposal. And before he called the cops, he cleaned everything up and made her look presentable because he said his mother wouldn’t want guests to see the mess.”
The class all cringed, sinking into their seats with disgust. But that didn’t stop Peggy from explaining it all further.
“He used to go to a bar all the cops went to and he would talk about his case. They would always one-up themselves and say they were close which gave him this false idea that they were on his tail and they’d find his mother soon. But when they didn’t, he called it in from a payphone and said he’d come over and explain it all. And boy did he ever, the cops said he wouldn’t shut up. And then when they put him in the cop car finally, a woman walked past him and he threw up.”
Spencer watched her with awe, the way she could call information to memory like that was beautiful. He listened to her like he’s never heard a fact before, she was so intriguing.
“Thank you for the detail,” he teased her lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up that the really gross parts get swept aside.”
The class smiled at him, he had gained their trust and attention within only 1 hour of class.
“I know you said you don’t have a favourite,” another student asked from the back. “I agree it’s weird, but who is the one you gravitate towards the most?”
“I’ve met hundreds of serial killers, I’ve read about thousands,” he explained. “I think Ed Kemper is the one I gravitate the most around because he was so willing and open to explaining why he is the way he is. Going as far as to say that the only way they could keep women safe is to give him a lobotomy. He didn’t believe there was any correcting to be done, only removal of the evil within him.”
He heard slight mumbles as everyone took in what he said. “Does anyone here have a killer or a case that interested them in learning more, or just introduced you to the chase of justice?”
Peggy put her hand up, “I personally think BTK is the scariest, most tactical, and just downright evil man to ever exist. He scares me to no end but he’s so interesting to learn about.”
“Ahh,” Spencer agreed. “Too bad you won't be here for week 3. But with that I think I’ll end the class, next week we’ll be discussing the difference between Ted Bundy and Richard Speck.” He nodded lightly, watching the majority of them close their books and had on out.
“I really enjoyed the class,” she said softly. Holding her purse in one hand, a collection of files in the other.
Spencer turned to look at her then, smiling right back. “It was a pleasure to teach alongside you.”
“What do you mean?” She teased, “it’s not like my mom and dad were the ones who did all the interviews."
“Carr,” he repeats her last name. The gears turning in his mind as he brings all the information forth.
“Your mother is Wendy Carr, she was recruited after the BTK case with Bill Tench, she’s who was behind that study you mentioned.”
“I know,” she smiled.
“Who’s your father?”
“Guess,” she looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face, pushing her glasses up slightly.
“You’re kidding? Gideon never said he had a daughter let alone a,” he stops himself before he can embarrass himself any further.
She smiled at the implication of his words, “but he’s told me all about you Dr. Reid, that’s why I'm here.”
“You need help with a case and I’m the only agent in Virginia currently,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly. Knowing it was too good to be true that she would have any interest in him in the slightest.
“No actually, I have a case I’ve been working on privately and I need some help. I asked my dad but he said you’d be able to help me the best. I agree,” she corrected him softly. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a big fan of yours. When I would sit in and watch his lectures, before he knew I was his kid, you would always step in at the best parts, adding the smallest details to the story that the average person would forget. It’s magnificent.”
He laughed slightly, tugging at his collar as she complimented him. “Thank you, you’re quite magnificent as well,” he replied with a blush and a smile
She didn’t look like Gideon, probably because she smiled so much. Like sunshine on legs, she beamed, all but blinding him with her smile as she stared at him, “do you want to get lunch and go over this case with me?”
“I’d love to.”
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Fake dating AU for the idiot Heartrender Husbands! I beg of you!
As ever, I am preposterously easy to enable, and since they will eventually make an appearance in A Phantom in Enchanting Light, I decided to write their backstory for that verse. Also, “fake dating but it’s only fake because they’re both idiots” is an Aesthetic. I love them.
Moscow, 2010
The guy is most definitely late. Fedyor got here early – probably too early, since they’re supposed to meet at eleven and he arrived by quarter past ten – but it’s now 11:08 and still no sign of him. Fedyor has claimed a corner table in the coffee shop just off Red Square with its splendid old tsarist-era décor, surrounded by the murmur of conversation and clicking laptop keys as his fellow Muscovites get on with their daily lives. The rule is fifteen minutes, yes? If Ivan Sakharov doesn’t show up in another seven, Fedyor is free to bail. But it’s been so long, and Nadia, the mutual friend responsible for this set-up, has begged Fedyor to give him a chance. And since it is understandably difficult to date as a gay man in Russia, Fedyor’s patience must be tested longer than usual. He sips his flat white and glances at the door again. Still no Ivan.
Fedyor opens his phone and checks the photo that Nadia sent him, trying to decide if this man is attractive enough to compensate for his tardiness. It’s hard to tell. It is 11:14, and he is absolutely about to pack up and leave by no later than 11:25, when a tall, grim-faced man in a red windbreaker strides in. He stops short, glances around, spots Fedyor, and powers over with such single-minded determination that Fedyor fears he’s about to be arrested. “Hello,” he says curtly. “I am Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. I believe you are waiting for me?”
“Ah – ? I am Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, yes,” he manages, offering a hand, which Ivan crushes in a Terminator grip. “It’s – nice to meet you?”
Ivan snorts, pulls out the other chair, and drapes his jacket over it, then orders a small plain coffee (black like his soul, evidently). Then he returns, sits down, and claps his hands as if he is calling a misbehaving class to attention. “Where are you from?” he barks. “How long have you lived in Moscow?!”
Fedyor continues to gape. He’s genuinely not sure if this is Ivan attempting to get to know him on speed-run, or if he’s being interrogated by a FSB agent who can’t even act for two seconds like he’s not. It’s ominously possible. Dmitry Medvedev is the president and there are hopes that there might be a social liberalization, but the Orthodox patriarchs and the far right have been increasingly agitating against Russia’s embattled LGBTQ community, and things could just as easily get worse. Is this a setup or a setup? Nadia would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation, of course, but maybe she was likewise fooled. You’d think that if this was a sting, they could have found a guy who was actually capable of pretending to be on a date, but maybe that’s the point? What the hell is going on here?
Fedyor opens his mouth, then shuts it. As a matter of fact, he is originally from Nizhny Novgorod, but moved to Moscow for university and has lived here for seven years, but if Ivan is with the FSB, he probably already knows that. Is this a trick? Is Ivan trying to match him to some police intelligence file or see if he’s a liar? Fedyor is seriously about to get up and walk out (or maybe sprint out) when Ivan, perhaps realizing that he’s blowing this to a heretofore unprecedented degree, says, “Sorry. I am from Krasnoyarsk. I enjoy rugby.”
Of course he likes rugby if he’s from Krasnoyarsk. This is a disaster. “Uh, what side?”
“Krasny Yar,” says Ivan, in the tone of a man about to stand up and belt out the fight song. “I also enjoy football. Yenisey Krasnoyarsk. Though I have begun supporting Lokomotiv since I came to Moscow. That was five years ago.”
So, he’s definitely a hooligan. Fedyor does his best to keep smiling. In the flesh, Ivan is definitely not unattractive. His hair is crisp and brown, there are glints of hazel in his eyes, and he has that hard, chiseled handsomeness that Fedyor always ends up getting suckered into. Except for the fact that he is lively, extroverted, and outgoing, likes clubbing and mingling and making friends, and this man does not appear to have ever heard of a single one of those things. What was Nadia thinking? It’s not like her to whiff this badly. Or did she have to be so circumspect in asking Ivan if he would like to meet Fedyor that, even if he’s not an undercover cop, he is in fact clueless about the true nature of this social engagement? Thinks it’s guys being pals?
“Did you have somewhere you were coming from earlier?” Fedyor asks, after another excruciating silence. “Is that why you were – ?”
“My apologies. The bus was late. I am normally very punctual.” Ivan scowls ferociously, as if the bus ever dares to do such a thing again, he will personally murder it. “What hobbies do you enjoy, Fedyor Mikhailovich?”
“I think you can call me Fedyor, yes?” They are clearly nowhere near “Fedya” and “Vanya” just yet, but “Fedyor Mikhailovich” always makes Fedyor look around warily for his grumpiest professor at MSU. He tries to think of subtle conversational gambits to find out what Ivan knows, without being obvious. Oh God, he really should just cut his losses, but something – perhaps the pathetic conviction that even a terrible date is better than no date at all – keeps him in his seat. Presuming that he does get out of here alive, he will call up Nadia straightaway and ask her many, many questions, mostly consisting of Why??! “Well,” Fedyor says at last. “I like having fun?”
“I also enjoy fun,” Ivan says, stone-faced. “I am very funny.”
Russian humor is normally extremely deadpan, to the point that Fedyor does wonder if Ivan is in fact a diabolical troll genius, but somehow he doesn’t think so. The rest of the conversation proceeds in this fashion, but by the end of an hour, Fedyor still has no idea if he has just been on a date or a trip to the gulag. Ivan gets up, administers another bone-crushing handshake, thanks him for his time, and marches out. Fedyor can practically hear the Red Army Choir thundering some patriotic anthem in his wake.
When he gets home that afternoon, Fedyor is resolved to write off the whole thing, except it was weirdly kind of not as bad as he first thought, maybe, somehow. If nothing else, he’s fascinated by this, like watching a slow-motion train crash. He takes out his phone with the intention of calling Nadia, only to see a text message from an unfamiliar number. When he opens it, it reads, Hello. Your company was agreeable today. Thank you. Perhaps we could meet again next week. Please reply yes or no. The message uses the formal styles of address, and some of the spellings are slightly old-fashioned. He has also signed it – Иван Сахаров – in case there might be some confusion with another Ivan the Terrible at Dating of Fedyor’s recent acquaintance. It is a bit like getting a text from the undertaker.
Fedyor stares at it, insanely tempted to burst out laughing, and finally, just because now he’s too curious to refuse, texts back his gracious acceptance. Still chuckling, he makes dinner, and then, as his phone pings with Ivan’s response, wonders in horror what on earth he is getting himself into.
This is how things continue for the next six weeks. Ivan and Fedyor meet up for the second time, stroll sedately around one of Moscow’s many city parks together, then part ways, and this time it’s Fedyor’s turn to ask if he would like to do it again. He isn’t sure exactly why, except that Ivan is unexpectedly easy to spend time with, and he nods in stoic approval of whatever Fedyor says. Of course, they follow the usual rules of dating which are especially important in Russia: don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about religion, don’t talk about America, don’t talk about Ukraine, don’t talk about Chechnya. From what Fedyor can glean, Ivan’s views tend to the doctrinaire, but he is surprisingly undogmatic, and willing to at least act as if he has an open mind. If he was an FSB agent, it feels like he would have busted Fedyor by now, but maybe he is waiting for him to do something unmistakably gay. That’s not it. Right?
Nadia calls, wanting to know how it’s going, and Fedyor grills her for forty minutes over whether Ivan is a law enforcement plant, a lonely guy looking for a friend, the world’s most method practical joker, or just extremely stupid. Nadia insists that he is actually very nice once you get to know him (HA, thinks Fedyor) and has no particular affection for either the ruling classes or the oligarchs. He can certainly be an acquired taste, but he is not evil.
Forced to accept it, still chickening out of asking Ivan whether he knows they’re dating, wondering if they are dating, if Ivan knows that Fedyor knows they’re dating, if Fedyor only thinks he knows that they are dating while they are not actually dating, or if Ivan thinks he knows that they’re dating while they’re… whatever the fresh-fried fuck is truly happening here, Fedyor trudges off for what has become his almost-weekly rendezvous with Ivan the-Maybe-Not-Quite-So-Terrible. They manage to have a few conversations verging on meaningful, and Fedyor has found himself telling Ivan about his family and Nizhny Novgorod and other such things. Fedyor likes to talk and Ivan likes to listen, though he breaks in now and again with a bone-dry quip. He’s still never what you would call loquacious, or easily forthcoming, but Fedyor likes that. Ivan is tough, complex, enigmatic, guarded, occasionally willing to let down his walls but only if the other person is worth it, and Fedyor finds, to his surprise, that he wants to be worth it. If this is a long-con mind game, he almost doesn’t care. (Almost.)
The problem, however, is that they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a month and a half and they haven’t gotten any closer than walking through a park, outdoors, in full view of their fellow comrades. Even the first time Fedyor takes the plunge and invites Ivan to his apartment, they sit three feet apart on the couch, watching a badly-Russian-subtitled version of Die Hard and providing critical commentary. Fedyor’s English is a lot more fluent than Ivan’s, and his middle-class family, while not exactly wealthy, is definitely better off than Ivan’s hardscrabble clan of miners and loggers in Siberia. That upbringing certainly does explain, to some degree, why Ivan is the way he is, and Fedyor wonders anxiously if Ivan views him as an insufferably posh city boy. Ivan barely finished high school and went straight to working in a Krasnoyarsk aluminum factory. He definitely did not faff around Moscow State University and attend global development seminars in Paris.
Nonetheless, despite their obvious differences, they do get along, and Fedyor is unable to deny the fact that he would, if it’s all right with everyone, like it to be more than that. Of course, finding out if Ivan knows, etc. etc., has been the paramount challenge, and there is no way to find out other than to go for it. Fedyor is 75% sure that they’ve been going steady for two months, but if it’s actually the other 25%, this is going to get awkward in a hurry. Is this essentially a fake relationship, or is it only fake because they’re both idiots?
After having duly commended his soul to God, Fedyor invites Ivan over on Saturday night. He rents a tiny flat by himself since he’s been burned on rooming with strangers, but Ivan is used to it by now, and it doesn’t feel too small with the two of them. Fedyor strains his limited culinary skills to cook supper, probably making his babushka cluck her tongue and sigh in a judgmental fashion back in Nizhny Novgorod, and they sit down and eat in silence for five minutes. Then Fedyor says, “Vanya?”
The consistent use of the diminutive has started sometime in the last few weeks, neither of them remember quite when. Ivan doesn’t correct him. “Yes?”
Fedyor clears his throat. “Do you…” He winces. “Do you… like me?”
“Yes?” Ivan says again, looking confused. “I would not have spent so much time with you if I did not, don’t you think? We are friends.”
“Yes, I know that we’re friends, but…” Fedyor looks at the ceiling. It doesn’t help, so he looks back at Ivan. “Are we… special friends?”
Ivan continues to look blank. “Are we?”
Fedyor resists the urge to tug at his collar, thinking that it’s a damn good thing that he didn’t go with his other idea of just leaning across the table and passionately kissing him. With absolutely no change of tone or expression, Ivan says, “Please explain. Special friends how?”
“Friends who want to…” Fedyor takes a deep breath. “Be… more than friends?”
“How?” Ivan orders again, ruthlessly. “Be clear, Fedya.”
“Are we maybe… boyfriends?” Fedyor’s voice squeaks on the word. “As in… we have feelings for each other that aren’t just… friendly? Like… feelings which are… romantic?”
Ivan continues to stare at him like a statue for several more seconds, and Fedyor contemplates the feasibility of tunneling directly through the floor of his apartment and running all the way to Latvia. Then at last, Ivan throws his head back and – startling Fedyor deeply – breaks into real, genuine, belly laughter, the kind that he has never heard from Ivan before. “Oh my,” he chortles, slapping the table. “Your face. You were sweating bullets.”
“WAIT, WHAT!?!” Fedyor pushes his chair back and stands up with a clatter, incandescently outraged. “Are you – were you messing with me?!!”
“Maybe a little,” Ivan says, wiping his eyes. “You know, all this time, I have not been sure if you are shy or a terrible prude. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
“God’s Mother in Heaven – ” Fedyor feels another prick of disloyalty to his babushka for swearing on the Bogomater, but some people deserve it. All inhibitions forgotten, he charges at Ivan like a runaway train, as Ivan springs out of his own chair in readiness, and starts pounding on his chest in transports of fury. “You are the worst! You are the worst person ever! For two months, what have we been doing?! I have been afraid this whole time that maybe you don’t know what’s really going on, and now – ?! You are the worst!”
Ivan catches Fedyor’s flailing arms, holds them away from him, and picks him up bodily, swinging him around and pushing him against the wall. “Maybe I am just a dumb country boy from Siberia,” he remarks, “but even I am not that stupid, Fedyor Mikhailovich.”
“I hate you,” Fedyor pants, their faces and their mouths an inch away from each other. “Get out of my apartment.”
“Mmm?” Ivan cocks an eyebrow. Then he plants both hands on either side of Fedyor’s head, leans in, and deeply, savagely captures Fedyor’s mouth with his own.
Every remaining vestige of barely rational thought in Fedyor’s head evaporates in screaming shock. He still wants to shove Ivan away, knee him in the balls, or break a chair over his head, but if he did that, he would have to stop kissing him, and he can’t do that either. He moans, Ivan’s tongue takes the opportunity to slip into his mouth, their hands clutch and claw and their legs melt out from under them, they turn away or break contact only to gulp a breath before diving back in again, and the next time Fedyor is aware of anything, they have collapsed on his kitchen floor in a wrung-out, entangled, gasping heap. Ivan says in his ear, “Do you still want me to leave, Fedya?”
“No,” Fedyor manages. “Because now, I am really going to make you suffer.”
Ivan’s smile is dark and full of promise. He pulls back, gets to his feet, and holds out a hand. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”
(Ivan doesn’t leave Fedyor’s apartment that night. He doesn’t leave it the next night either. At the end of the week, Fedyor calls up Nadia and informs her that he hates her so much, and when they do next see each other, he’ll shake her by both shoulders and then thank her for introducing him to the no-good, truly awful, very bad love of his life.)
#ivan x fedyor#heartrender husbands#henchmen deserve happiness too okay#a phantom in enchanting light#mearcatsreturns#ask#fivan ff
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Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)
Ch Rating: T
Ch WC: 2169
AO3
Chapter 7
Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.
“Lunch?”
Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”
“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”
“What if they call while I’m away?”
“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”
Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.
“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”
“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”
“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.
“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”
“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”
A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.
He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.
Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?
He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.
“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.
“Got you covered,” Varric replies.
He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.
“Hey papae!”
“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”
“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”
“I will be there soon.”
“Okie doke.”
He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.
He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.
“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.
“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”
“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”
“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”
He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.
“What’s this?” Veda asks.
Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”
“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”
“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”
“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.
“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”
She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”
“No. Just a new friend I met.”
“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”
“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”
“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”
“I don’t always look happy?”
“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”
He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”
“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.
“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.
“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”
“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”
She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”
“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“
“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”
“Very well but if you ever—“
“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”
“Yes, so long as you check with—“
“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”
“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”
“Okay. See you later, papae.”
Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.
Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.
I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉
—
“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.
“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”
“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.
Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.
“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”
Both of them shake their heads.
“It’s really odd.”
“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.
“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.
“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”
“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.
Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”
“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.
“Sometimes you both are mean.”
“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.
Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”
“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”
“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”
“What the fuck?”
“Good for him,” Han says.
Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”
“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”
“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.
Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”
“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.
“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”
“Another Lavellan huh?”
“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.
“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.
In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.
“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“
“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.
“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”
“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.
—
It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.
“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.
“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.
She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”
“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.
“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”
Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.
She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.
She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?
“Perhaps I should…”
“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.
When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.
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For the prompt thing: Andrew/Neil, trope: sickness/injury, location: violently orange yacht. Have fun! Thanks =)
Ooh definitely!
Since no AU was specified I made it kinda intentionally ambiguous.
Also, so you know, I 100% sat down to write this as a cutesy seasick/comfort w/teasing sorta fic. Then, idk, i got a lil bloodthirsty. Just a little bit, though.
Warning for mentions of blood.
---
"Are you really going to hide down here for the whole time?" Kevin's voice was both tired and annoyed, and just for that Andrew didn't even bother to acknowledge his presence, let alone his words.
Instead, he pointedly turned the page in his book as if there was no one about to bother him at all. They had been out on the water for a whole six hours. Andrew had watched the shoreline get smaller and smaller as they pulled away and when it was just a fine sketch of a line along the horizon he'd gone investigating. Which was how he'd found this hidden little nook in the storage hull or whatever the big room of supplies was in the belly of the boat.
The monstrosity was technically a yacht. Which, by definition, is a pleasure liner - a boat intended for entertainment. This "yacht" was big enough to not only carry but fully house and supply a contingent of college athletes. It was suspiciously fortified and had enough supplies stockpiled away that Andrew was beginning to wonder if he hadn't been kidnapped because it seemed just a little bit excessive for a "weekend away".
Personally, he didn't think his problems were going to go away or even be at all eased by an attempted escape via ugly boat. But he wasn't the only one with those problems. He wasn't the only one hurting. And after almost a year... well, he would grudgingly tag along, but he didn't have to participate.
The damn thing was also the most grotesque shade of claw-your-eyes-out dayglow orange that Andrew had ever seen. Which honestly was one of the reasons he'd already gone inside, as of by hiding in the deepest, darkest corner of the vessel he'd save himself a migraine.
"And Andrew? The Lady Fox has luxury suites for each of us. You can't even hide in your room? You choose to come... here?" Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Kevin give his choice of hideaways a disparaging look.
Without taking his eyes from the page, Andrew lifted one hand and offered Kevin his one-fingered opinion.
The next thing he heard was Kevin's annoyed scoff, followed by his retreating footsteps. Satisfied, Andrew snuggled down a little bit deeper into the conveniently-placed hammock he'd found already strung up when he initially explored the place. The book he was reading had a bit of a slow start, but at least three of the side-characters were interesting enough to carry him through until the plot picked up.
Except, he only got two more pages along when he heard a sudden and quite ominous thump that was accompanied by a muffled groan. The book in his hand was instantly replaced with one of the knives he kept tucked in the armbands he was never without. Some people might call Andrew paranoid for bringing weapons onto a boat where he was surrounded only by close friends and family, with a literal ocean between them and harm. Those people would probably be dead right now, gutted in their sleep by a murderous stowaway. Or maybe that thump was one of his family, being murdered by the murderous stowaway.
Maybe it was Kevin.
That thought put a spike of fear in his heart, but right in its wake came a surge of deep rage.
No. He would not allow it. He had already lost... Enough had happened. He refused to let Kevin be hurt as well.
Andrew got out of the hammock as soundlessly and gracefully as possible, searching the shadows of the only half-lit cavernous space as he inched toward the source of the sound. He kept the blade poised to attack with one hand and pulled out his cell phone with the other. Two thumb-swipes later the had the flashlight enabled.
It wasn't Kevin. Nope. Definitely not Kevin.
Not-Kevin was crumpled in a heap in front of a stack of supply crates that it looked like he'd rolled off of, thus causing the thump Andrew had heard. The groan of pain, however, was clearly not from the fall. Or, well, not just from the fall.
"Who are you?" Andrew demanded, shining the light right on the person's face. They looked like a guy, probably. Short-ish hair and made up of more angles than curves - though it was really hard to tell more than that because the blood-soaked clothes were a little bit distracting.
The injured man(?) on the floor let out a choked, broken sound that Andrew belatedly realized was a laugh. It was so rasped and mangled, he'd almost thought the stowaway was about to launch into their death-throes. Judging by the bloodstains and way the person shook and swayed precariously while trying to push up to their hands and knees, that actually might not have been that far off a guess.
Then the stowaway, the person, the man, said, "Nothing."
Andrew froze. "What did you say?"
"You asked who I was," the man said, and Andrew was sure it was a man now. Moreover, the rough edges around his voice may have been tight with pain and possibly disuse, but even without Andrew's near-perfect memory he would have knows the sharp slashes of that voice anywhere.
The man looked up and in the white glow of Andrew's phone light there was no mistaking how immeasurably blue his eyes were. Like the sky painted from an artist's favorite memory. Like the hint of eternity in a crystal sphere.
Neil smiled. His face was dotted with dried blood and marked with new scars, but the expression still somehow turned the whole world on its head to make it a softer, warmer, safer place.
Andrew wasn't sure what hit the ground first, his phone, his knife, or his knees as he skidded to the floor beside Neil, reaching for him. "Neil... Neil. Fuck. The blood. It's yours? FUCK!" He was babbling, but his own voice was distant to his ears as he touched Neil for the first time in almost a year, as he gathered him close and searched for the source of all that blood.
Shaky hands reached for him and Andrew didn't even think about batting them away. He leaned into their touch even as he turned his face toward the stairs and raised his voice to a shout: "KEVIN! AARON! SOMEONE! NOW!"
"H-hey now, Andrew. Andrew, shh, it's okay. I'm okay, it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to be away this long."
"Shut up with your fucking 'sorry's Neil, I don't want your fucking 'sorry' - I want you here and alive and not dying in my goddamn arms I am NOT doing this with you, do you hear me junkie?"
Andrew felt like his entire system was in overdrive, his mind moving too fast and his nerve ending firing off in matching cylinders. They looked for Neil for months. And when they finally got a breakthrough via that fucking miserable twat Jean Moreau, it was only to find out that Neil was likely dead.
Those hands cupped his face, and even though they trembled against his cheeks he still touched Andrew like he was holding something incredibly precious. Something that needed care and protection lest it drop or be crushed.
"I promise, Drew. I did not drag myself halfway back around the world just to die in your arms."
"Do not even attempt to give me that, Neil. That is exactly the kind of dramatic shit you would do."
"Nah," Neil protested with a rough laugh. "Definitely more Aaron's thing. He's such a petty bitch."
"Fuck you," Andrew spat out, but a bubble of what might have bene a laugh caught in his chest. There were running footsteps coming their way, thundering down the steps and into the room.
"Andrew?! Andrew what-- oh my God. Oh my God. AARON GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Kevin was still shouting as he came to land beside the two of them, and Andrew almost pulled another knife and stabbed him in the fucking eye as he reached for Neil.
In fact, he didn't even realize he had drawn a knife until Kevin jerked back so suddenly he fell on his ass.
"Jesus! Andrew it's just me. He is covered in blood he needs a hospital!"
"It's mostly not mine," Neil chimed in as Andrew struggled to rein in the half-crazed beast that had taken over the arm not holding Neil. The monster inside him was in fits, and its growl was rumbling in Andrew's throat - kept in check only by the slow stroking of Neil's fingers down his jaw.
"Mostly not yours," Kevin echoed, and even through the haze of Andrew's protective rage, he could hear how dumbfounded the other man was.
"Mhm. And I stitched myself up already."
"Stitched yourself up," said Kevin. Then he looked toward the stairs and bellowed: "AARON!"
Neil sighed and the exasperation in that sound was so fucking familiar that it knocked the beast far enough off its temper for Andrew to take control again. He took a slow breath, then another. When Neil looked up at him again, Andrew asked, "Why? How?"
Neil grimaced. The expression must have been painful, Andrew realized as he watched him - because now that he was really looking he could tell that those new scars on his face were less 'scars' and more 'barely healed torture wounds'.
All Neil said was, "It's a long story."
As Aaron finally came half-falling down the steps on wobbly sea-legs, Andrew decided he would leave it be - for now.
The important thing was that Neil was here, Neil was alive, and nothing - fucking nothing - was going to take him away again.
#asks#AFTG prompts#aftg fanfic#aftg ficlet#andreil#reunion fic#mentions of blood#andrew minyard#neil josten#i have no idea what happened dont ask me lol#ask neil - hes the troublemaker#protective andrew minyard#hurt neil josten
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•Hello again, I’m the anon who requested gender neutral s/o! Thank you so much for writing such beautifully-written story between Garou and them. I’ve ended up loving it very much it was very good read, aww big kudos for you! ❤❤
And for the next request, as the fandom still hyped about part-timer Garou, how about of the continuation of the previous story:
The s/o has a stable job already, right? And Garou realized that currently being a freeloader in s/o’s house makes him a bit guilty. So he decided to lessen the s/o’s burden by taking a part-time job.
The s/o actually don’t mind of Garou being a freeloader, but seeing Garou becomes so determinated about it the s/o can’t help but feel very proud and happy for him.
Lots of fluffy moments after both of them finished working, like cooking a simple dinner together at home, resting their tired bodies on the couch while cuddling lovingly, Garou and the s/o sharing a lot of soft kisses during it while the s/o praising Garou’s hardworking, etc.
And as it’s the continuation of “Reunited’, of course the s/o is still a gender neutral.
Thank you so much and have nice days! 💖•
I’m so happy that I finally got to this one. There were a few requests before it so I had to complete those and I also had to write for the story on AO3 (-_-;) Sorry if I made you wait too long hehe I’m glad you enjoyed the first one tho
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Reunited Part 2
Garou x GenderNeutral!Reader
You stepped through your door after returning from your 9-5 job. Your muscles and joints ached and you stretched your body in an effort to wake yourself up, the plastic bag full of groceries crinkling with every move.
"I’m home…” you softly called, unable to produce a louder noise.
You took your work shoes off along with your coat and scarf, discarding them carelessly by the door, too tired to put them away.
You heard footsteps approaching and smiled when the Garou came towards you. You walked up to him and fell into his arms. Loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, you spoke softly.
“I am so tired today. I can’t even walk straight…”
He quirked a brow. His arms slithered around your waist and he picked you up, taking the bag of groceries from you and putting it on the kitchen counter on the way the bathroom down the hall.
“Another rough day, huh?”
Garou questioned softly and you nodded yawning.
“You have no idea…”
Garou set you down onto the stable counter of your bathroom and helped you out of your office pants, sliding then down your legs. You were left in your white shirt and socks.
Garou left after fixing you a warm bath. Undressing completely, you sat yourself down in your tub, the water temperature hot enough to soothe the undeniable ache in your bones from such a hard day of deskwork.
After washing yourself and sitting in the relaxing steam for an hour, you opted to get up and leave. Garou brought you your pajamas and you slipped them on, stretching and walking out of the tiled room with a towel in your hands.
“Ya finally done…?”
Garou asked deeply, sitting on the black couch of your apartment. You sighed and plopped down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. His fingers came up to massage your sides and you leaned in closer, the two of you now laying on the couch, Garou’s head on the armrest and your body on top of his.
“Mm, this feels good…” you said, slightly drowsy.
“Yeah.”
The two of you laid in silence, the only sound coming from the T.V. opposite from the couch. Garou turned the volume down, setting the mood perfectly. His hands circled your waist, exclusively close to your derrière. His hot breath fanned your ear and you found yourself nuzzling into him even more.
Your eyes slowly shut themselves and you curled up into a comfortable position. Oh boy, this felt so…cozy.
“C'mon, why are you fallin’ asleep on me?”
Garou’s voice rang out and you instantly awoke from your drowsy state.
“Oh, um…sorry. I’m just very sleepy today.”
“Too much work these days…”
You leaned towards his cheek, connecting your lips with it. And with that you wearily stood up and spoke, “I’m just gonna go take a nap. Too tired to function…”
Garou nodded, reluctantly, and let you go. He watched you tiredly carry yourself to your bedroom and fall flat on top of the mattress, immediately falling asleep.
Garou sighed to himself and leaned back onto the armrest of the couch. This had been going on for a number of days. You come home from work, he bathes you and takes care of you, he tries to fuck you and love you but you blow him off for sleep.
It was starting to get infuriating. But why was this happening to you? Things weren’t like this the first month he was here…
In fact, a lot of things had changed since the end of the month. Your fridge used to be stacked with food, you used to have a lot more things around and most importantly, you were livelier.
It was like he turned everything around for you….
Oh, shit.
He did, didn’t he? Fuck!
You were only so tired because you worked harder to support the two of you, you bought the groceries all by yourself, you cooked for him, man he was just taking and taking.
Garou exhaled harshly on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands in a frustrated manner. He’s such an idiot…
Ok ok, think. What do you do when someone lets you freeload in their house, eat their food, lie around all day and be the laziest bum you can be?
Oh, that’s right! You get a job.
He’s made up his mind. He is going to get a job, but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna tell you that. He doesn’t need you gushing over how sweet and cute he is, not wanting to re-experience the time you teased him for trying to make a pancake. He just wanted to be nice without being called a sweetheart, c'mon!
Now, back to the matter at hand. What job can he actually get that doesn’t require any form of experience or education?
>>
You grab a packet of sweetener from the coffee drawer, tearing open the little paper on top and pouring it into the foam cup that held your recently brewed coffee. You silently stirred with the swizzle stick, observing the boring people of your office from the small break room you stood in.
Leaning against the white counter, you sipped the hot substance and sighed in contentment when it travelled down your throat. You slipped your phone out of your pocket and leisurely scrolled through the recent news articles which lined the screen, stopping to read anything important.
And so you spent the next 10 minutes of your 20 minute break just dawdling around on your phone. You threw away the small cup of coffee that had become too cold and bitter for your liking and trekked back to your office, pushing open the pristine glass doors.
Putting your phone away back into your pocket, you took a seat in your office chair, booting up your computer to get back to making spreadsheets and going over the accounts drafted for last month.
You sighed in boredom, correcting some errors made by your ex-deskmates. It feels so good to have your own office, feels so good to get away from those vermin and feels so good being their boss. Yep, getting a promotion was the best. The only down side was that you had way more work now, your underlings tend to make too many mistakes when it comes to balance sheets. You hadn’t told Garou the news yet, you wanted to do it over a cute dinner. It would be way more impactful that way.
Ah, Garou. He always made you feel better after a long day. Just seeing his cute big head relieved you of all the stress that you carried home. Not to mention the amazing feeling of his unexpectedly soft hair between your fingers as you tug and weave or the overwhelming feeling of his strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close and holding your sore body. The touch of his warm mouth on your lips, kissing and worshipping it, invading every intimate part of your form. And the way his tongue felt on your
DING!
Oh, an email from your boss? What’s this about? The she-devil up there never emailed her employees for anything good…
Subject: Executive meeting
Dear D-Wing Employee,
Good Morning. Our company, as you are aware, will be merging with a larger firm, hopefully bringing us larger and more profitable trades.
It has been brought to my attention that many of our business partners and executive directors will be hosting a meeting in the D-Wing of our establishment. It would be most appreciated if all of our D-Wing employees would be willing to postpone their work for a day to enable our higher ups and VIPs to perform the necessary actions in completing this fortunate exchange between two efficient companies, striving to bring better service to the people.
The delay of work shall last from today 10:00 A.M. to tomorrow 12:00 P.M. Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any concerns about this matter, please submit a written letter to the E-Wing, describing your issues.
Best Regards,
Senior Director, Akari Hina
Woah, so you’re basically getting the rest of the day off? And no work at all tomorrow? Hm, maybe your boss isn’t so bad after all.
Packing up and grabbing your coat, you turned off your computer and headed straight for the door, running past all of the other D-Wing employees readying themselves to leave.
>>
Garou sat in the office of a delivery firm, arms crossed and leg bouncing up and down, antsy. He eyed the man in front of him, clad in a suit and tie and looking through the 5 minute resume that Garou printed up.
“So, you’re an expert in ‘being strong’ and 'being cool’. You don’t have much experience, you’re only 18 and you created this resume by yourself?”
Garou nodded, fiddling with the edge of the gray scarf you had gifted him. Ah, another reason to get a job, give you a gift.
“So, did you pass highschool or…? Sorry, I’m confused.”
The man took off his glasses, wiping it with a little cloth that was left on his desk, waiting for an answer.
“Yeah, I left after my third year…”
Garou confirmed, and the man put his glasses back on, and intertwined his fingers on the desk between them.
“That’s good enough. It’ll do. Which department are you looking to work in? We have filing, storage, delivery and cleaning. But you look like a strong kid, storage would be perfect for you.”
Garou thought for a moment, face twisting in confusion. Filing…ugh reading. Storage, hmm not bad. Delivery isn’t hard. He refuses to clean after the slobs here.
“I’m up for anything that has heavy work, no reading or cleaning, thanks.”
He curtly informed his soon to be boss. The suited man huffed and opened up his desk drawer for a notepad.
“Sign these and we’ll get you started. Deliveries should be fine, no?”
Garou picked up a pen and signed away, paper after paper. Who knew FedEx had so many policies?
After providing enough details on the notepad and filling up all of the consent forms, Garou stood up, pushing his chair back slightly. He went to turn the knob of the little office door but was halted by the voice of the man, or should he say, his new boss.
“I’ll have my assistant bring you your uniform, also get rid of the hair. It won’t fit in the hat…”
Garou turned the knob exiting the office and strode out into the garage. A small man walked up to him with a transparent bag of clothes, hiding his face behind it. The only thing he could completely discern about the boy was his name written on the tag near his breast pocket, Ibiki.
“Here is your uniform. When you come back tomorrow, we’ll make a name tag for you.”
The cheery, blushing boy spoke, informing Garou of what he needs to do next. Taking the packet from his hands, Garou asked for a bag to put his new clothes in.
Ibiki scurried off to find a bag and retrieved an empty white one, filling it with the plastic packet.
“Thanks.”
Garou was about to walk out when he heard the kid call out to him.
“Hey Mister! You forgot to take our card. You’ll need the bosses number. See, right here. And this one’s mine!”
Ibiki pointed out the two separate cell numbers and Garou nodded. Ibiki placed a shaky hand on Garou’s shoulder and patted the spot, saying something along the lines of 'you’ll love working with us!’. Whatever, he doesn’t care, all he wanted to do was make your life a little bit easier.
>>
You had arrived home an hour ago, Garou nowhere in sight. You decided to shower and read a book while you waited for him to come home. You had already purchased lunch for the two of you on your way back, deciding that the contents in your fridge weren’t good enough to work with.
After Garou had shown up, things had turned for the better. It seemed like he brought you good luck wherever you went. You could recall the time when Garou wasn’t with you, and frankly, they weren’t the best. He made your life a lot more interesting than what it was before.
Standing up and stretching, you trailed towards your bedroom with your book in hand, opting to lay down comfortably and read. An hour and a half had passed and there was still no sign of Garou. But you had forgotten all about that. You munched on some chips in bed, flipping through the pages of your book, so immersed in it that your ears hadn’t caught the sound of your front door opening.
Garou walked into your shared home, taking off the jacket and scarf and hanging it behind the door. The bag which held his new uniform was hung in the wall closet in the living room. He washed himself up and looked around, expecting you to not be here as usual, but something caught his eye. Your work shoes! Weren’t you wearing these today?
Wait were you home…?
He looked around the house, checking each each and every room when he finally decided to check your bedroom.
Opening the door, he waltzed in, his eyes perceived you on your bed, laying on your stomach with your eyes glued to the book in your hand, potato chip hanging from your lips.
You still hadn’t noticed him in the room and he fully took advantage of that. Creeping around the edge of the bed, he stopped momentarily behind you. He licked his lips at the sight of your butt, clad in tight, black trousers. Without warning, he jumped onto you, his hips landing right on top of your ample behind, rough, trained hands gripping your hips to keep you in place.
You yelped in surprise, book flying across the bed as you jumped, or tried to, out of the way.
“W-where did you come from?!”
Your face twisted in annoyance as you asked.
“I should be asking you that. What are you doing home?”
Garou laid himself on top of you, his sharp chin resting on your head and fingers tightly grasping the mattress under you.
“I have the whole day off today! Now, will you please get off?”
Garou chuckled in excitement at your words, arms coming around to flip you over onto his chest as he turned himself over on his back.
“Never.”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, relaxing down onto him.
“So, where were you this fine morning?”
Your question had not been answered for several seconds and you asked him again.
“Garou, where did you go?”
You turned around, still obove him, your chest to his. You gave him a questioning look, gesturing him to speak.
“Out.”
You quirked a brow, expression unamused.
“I know that!”
He sat up and hugged you, his sharp nose buried between you shoulder and neck, kissing the skin.
“With a friend.”
Garou said, eyes coming up to look at you, waiting for a response.
“Oh really? You have friends?”
He nodded hesitantly, avoiding direct eye contact.
Ok then, he was being weird… But you didn’t want to pry. What he does while he’s out is his business, there’s probably nothing to worry about. Its not like he’s cheating on you or anything, no, he would never do that, he’s not that kind of man.
>>
HE’S THAT KIND OF MAN!
How could he? I-, You- How?! You were just coming home early from work. Turns out your new position didn’t require you to stay for long hours like before, so you just opted to come home. You had to take the long way around this time, passing by all of the urban workshops and postal firms because your normal road was being repaired. You passed by a FedEx warehouse and you could’ve sworn you saw silver hair and a gorgeous body, belonging to none other than Garou.
That was him for sure! Oh, when you get your hands on him…
You stomped your foot in anger at the scene unfolding before you. Garou, undressing in the wide open garage, taking off the clothes you had bought for him, to put on some drab brown and black shirt and pants. A small man hanging off from his shoulder as Garou walked to the desk to…collect something? What is that…?
The fragile looking boy next to him stopped in front of his chest and took what seemed to be a small card and clipped it to the front of Garou’s shirt. He beamed at Garou and your boyfriend turned to pick up the boxes that were strewn around the warehouse and pack them into individual trucks.
Wait a second. Was he working? Garou was working! Ohhh, of course! Yeah, you never doubted him for a second…
You strolled towards them, unknown to the two inside the dark garage, hiding behind the tall stack of boxes. Playfully walking up behind him, the small man gently tapped Garou on the shoulder. He turned around, large boxes still in hand, obscuring his vision.
“What do ya’ want now, Ibiki?!”
Garou’s sudden outburst scared the young man accompanying him, making him jump back frightened.
“The uh… b-boss wanted to umm… know if you could work overtime. Y-you’ll be payed…”
Answered the trembling voice of 'Ibiki’.
“No, I got better things waiting for me at home…”
Garou’s soft answer made you tear up somewhat, and you smiled very gently. Turning your heel, you trecked back home to wait for him. Oh, you might as well set up a surprise for him!
And so, you sneaked away, racing home to start setting up decorations for your hard working man.
>>
It was around 2:00 in the afternoon when Garou had finally walked through the front door of your shared home. He let out a relaxed sigh and carefully hung his hat behind the wooden door rack and stretched. His shows had already been discarded near the doormat as he made his way over to the bathroom, passing by the living room decorated with fairy lights and a blanket fort.
Wait a second, fairy lights and a fort?! Did he walk into the wrong house?
He came closer to the blankets sprawled across the floor, getting on his knees and picking one up to inspect it, not expecting you to be under it waiting for him.
“SURPRISE!”
You jumped out from under all of the pillows and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheeks.
“What’s all this? Yer’ home early again?”
Garou questioned, a confused expression on his handsome face.
“A surprise for you, duh…”
He smirked and coyly slid his arms under your legs, picking you up and setting you down onto his lap.
“No, really? What’s the occasion?”
You gave him a look as if saying, 'seriously?’
“Well, I was walking home from work and I couldn’t take my usual route. I walked past a few shops and I saw you…working. I was so surprised…”
Your voice got quieter as it neared the end and you awkwardly twiddled your thumbs, eyes casted downwards.
“Garou, why…why didn’t you just tell me you got a job?”
Garou let out a huff and ran his fingers through your hair. He looked deep into your eyes and cast you a cute little blush.
“W-well, I know how ya’ kinda freak out when I do…anything so I didn’t say nothin’. I just wanted to help out, ya’ get so tired after comin’ home. I ain’t gonna sit around and watch ya’ work yer’ ass off for me…”
Your fingers gently caressed his face, bringing it closer to yours.
“Garou, the reason I’m so tired after coming home is because I’m still adjusting to my new post at the office. I got promoted and I promise, once I get the hang of it, I won’t be tired at all.”
Garou’s mouth enveloped yours in a sweet exchange, hands roaming your hips.
“I’m really proud of you though…”
Garou broke into a genuine smile, no teasing smirk or smug grin. A genuine stretch of his lips.
“And what do you mean I kind of freak out? I do not!”
You pouted on his lap, crossing your arms and looking to the side.
“Ya’ just planned a surprise for me…”
You blushed and pulled his cheeks.
“Hey, this doesn’t count!”
He chuckled and smirked as you climbed off of his lap and onto the ground below.
“Now take off your clothes and get in here!”
>>
The rest of the afternoon was spent in bliss under a large warm blanket. The two of you lovingly cuddling together, watching movies and talking about Garou’s new workmates.
“So, this Ibiki kid follows me around everywhere, it’s kinda annoying to be honest.”
You laughed at his statement and pointed a finger at his chest.
“Well, he probably likes you. You are very handsome…”
He smirked and gave you a suggestive look, pulling your body closer to his under the blanket.
“Too bad I’m not available, right?”
You giggled at his response, snuggling into his warmth.
“Yes, too bad indeed…”
Giving you one last loving look, Garou kissed you passionately, his fingers caressing your cheek. Your own hand laid gently on his cheek, lips tightly locked with his.
Separating, the two of you breathed heavily and smiled.
“I love you…”
Garou softly admitted, giving you another one of his glorious genuine grins.
You happily blushed, hugging him close and whispered.
“I love you too. So much…”
And with that Garou kissed you again, feverishly, pulling the blanket above your heads, ready to take you to heaven.
It really couldn’t get better than this…
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#garou#garou x reader#garouonepunchman#opm garou#garou headcanons#gender neutral s/o#gender neutral reader#no specific pronouns#i love yous#fluff#opm fluff#garou fluff#submission
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Happy New Years to you all! I’m a bit late in writing and posting this but I wanted to take the time to properly thank everyone who follows me for sticking with me :) I know I’m not the most active when it comes to writing or even making shitposts so I hope you know it means the world to me that you enjoy my content. While just because 2020 has ended does not mean things will get automatically better, know that you have the capability of making a difference both for yourself and others. I’m proud of you for coming this far and please remember to take care of yourself when you can <3
And I’d also like to take the time to thank some individuals who have made a huge impact on my tumblr experience and have made this year better under the cut! Be warned there are many words and also sorry for any typos I wrote this at 3am :D
I’m going to start off with a few major lo$ers (joking) aka my irl friends that have tumblr
@kbh-ton, @ashr00m, @kae-and-the-lost-dragons
Okay the fact that you all follow me here is EMBARRASSING because you have to endure perceiving me from a sorta totally different perspective but surprise hi,, ily 😹 I know ⅔ of you don’t even use tumblr that often but I digress!! Thank you?? Like I’m not kidding when I say I don’t know where I would be without any of you guys. Stinky pp Paul, you’ve been here with @/sugasugawarau since the beginning-ish and have always been supportive of my absolutely stupid ideas. And my sons AKA get cucked squad, this is going to be ultra sappy but I hope you know how proud I am of the both of you (but no thanks to one of you for teaching us about nussies 😕). Thank you all for tolerating my overthinking ass as well as whenever I get high from a lack of sleep and just in general bc I’m a constant mess of a human being; you are all the best people ik stfu I don’t take criticism.
To my first ever tumblr mutual, @tendouthighs
Hi Codie!! Ik we haven’t talked a lot lately but just know that I appreciate your endless kindness and how you’re able to keep up with my smooth brain antics in dms so much. You’re so funny and I’ll treasure all the jokes and headcanons we’ve made, I hope you’re taking care and doing well heading into 2021! 💖💕
To wife Lyra @yacoka
Miss… Thank you sm for dropping by my inbox all the way back in like June/July because otherwise I don’t think I’d ever have gotten the courage to dm you LOL. It would be an understatement to say that you’re the kindest and most easygoing person I’ve met on here - I hope you know how grateful I am to have met you and read your works (and for lending me your knives and just being so?? supportive??? truly idk how you do it but ily 😣❣️)
To wife Joy @lesbians4yaku
Joy!!! I really don’t know where to start because you’re just so amazing?? And we’ve been mutuals for as long as I can remember ajdjfka I’m just,, so glad to have met you and I hope you know how much I love seeing you on the dash, whether it’s being able to marvel at the genius that is your mind whenever you make a haikyuu shitpost or reading your tags. You always make me laugh and smile and I am wishing you both of those things in 2021 bc u deserve the best, love u 🤍🤍🤍
To Arell, the sweetest soul I know @g4nyu
You have a natural talent for being able to make me both soft ™ and also laugh as freely as Tanaka and Nishinoya with your relatable quips and jokes and I adore you for it. (Also.. can we talk about how absolutely gorgeous your writing is I will nvr shut up.. also also I am here whenever u need to be enabled to rave abt any and all Haikyuu or Genshin characters <33) ily and ty for being my mutual, I feel v lucky to have u in my life 🥺
To Cal, a goddess in her own right @heyhinata
Ma’am the way ily?? You’re beautiful inside and out and I have sm fun talking to you. Being able to call you a mutual and read your works is a blessing and I’m so glad we started talking in dms ajsjfja I’ll never forget plotting smaus with you to raving abt Genshin and making fun of B*n Sh*piro, hidden muppet 😍 Wishing you the best in all that you do!
To Rae, fellow Tim Hortona enthusiast @mehreya
Hi bae I just want to start off with a big thank you. You’re such a wonderful and invigorating person to talk to and I always feel at ease talking with you, and seeing you on my dash with your interactions with others is always a light in my day. And for u I will embrace the Oikawa kinnie in me any day <33 ly and have an amazing New Years 🥰
To Ria, the absolute best and only Ria ik @kumaoi
Omg hi sexc 😍 ahdjkfka idk if you’ll see this but hey,, fun fact even if we don’t talk as much as we used to I still love u sm and I hope you’re staying healthy and happy !! Meeting you was and still is one of the best highlights of my tumblr journey and I’ll always be grateful for your existence
To Gracie, writer of all things beautiful @sneezefiction
Gracie!! I hope you’ve been doing well since the last time we talked and that you’re enjoying the New Years to the fullest <3 You were also one of my earliest mutuals and I just wanted to say thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me and for writing and sharing your works on tumblr. Sending love ! 💖
To the one and only angel, Yas @whipped-cream-writings
Yas bb we only became mutuals rather recently but I have sm love for you 🥺 Your kindness inspires me and your fics are the cutest things ever (pls,,, teach me how to write fluff ahfjfkka) Ilysm and I want to remind you that you’re so wonderful and amazing, sending you all my love for the upcoming year ahead !!
To Kay, who I will protect with my life @kayzume
Kay I don’t know how to even begin to put in words how glad I am to have met you in Lyra’s server,, you’re so sweet and you make me feel safe every time we talk. (Also THE DRAWINGS u made and shared with us,,, have I alr said ily bc ily and all that you do.) I know we haven’t chatted in a while but I’m sending you all my hugs and kithes always 💕💕💖
To mutuals I’ve interacted with some time during these months on tumblr and cherish a whole lot @taiyaaki @kageyuji @sophiawithstars @buddh-art @sa-suga @baeshijima @cherryonigiri @catharsisbabey @tris-does-stuff @tetsurolls @come-on-shitty-boys @iwas-angel @star-puff @voxamcris @azucanela @heartjime @miyafeuille @suikazura @deerixiie @hajiimes @skateme2yokohama @aliteama @yuujiya @omijime and many others but I think I hit the tagging limitajdhfka
Hi ily. You’re all such inspiring and talented individuals and while we may not interact frequently or know each other as well I wish we cld be ajfjjfa but I adore you all and I wish you an amazing New Year 🥺💖 (and if you ever want to talk, feel free to dm or smth! and I’ll try my best to be more active in popping into my mutual’s inboxes amhahshsj)
To the pillars of tumblr @sugardaddykenma @hina-wit-da-glock @nidaenk
You are all so special to me in that you are the reason I would wake up and get my butt on this hellsite and find so much fun and joy in the fandoms I enjoy - it’s not even the content you post but just,, your amazing and stellar personality and interactions with your followers and mutuals alike. Thank you for being a part of this weird space on the internet and I hope you are taking care and being kind to yourself, love u very much <33
#long post#happy new years !!#again#proud of everyone for making it here#bye i dont mean it to but that sounds so cryptic#i shld stop rambling in tags
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scarred part 2(firelord!zuko x reader)
requested by : @yepthatsame - Ahh I just read Scarred and it was so good! Do you think you do a part 2 where they meet again after years of his banishment? No worries if not!
A/N : thats such a good idea omg i cant believe i didnt think of it lmao but im so glad u enjoyed part 1 hopefully you enjoy this one too !!<3
part one
“All hail Fire Lord Zuko!”
The boy you had loved and missed, for so many years suddenly emerged right in front of your eyes. You couldn’t believe it; too stunned to notice that everyone was clapping. Tears threatened to fall as you wondered if he would remember you if you appeared before him. He seemed so different than when he left. He wasn’t vulnerable anymore, it was obvious by the way he held himself; straight back, standing tall, shoulders broad. He was a completely different person; the new Fire Lord. You were happy for him, of course. All he had ever wanted to do was serve and do his country justice, and now he is. It was just such a shock to you that after leaving you to capture the avatar, they now stood side by side, smiling genuinely at each other. It was very confusing to you, and you found yourself crying as you looked up at him.
Panicking, you frantically looked for somewhere to hide as the two began walking down the stairs to greet their guests. Suddenly, and open door into the castle caught your eye, which you dashed into, luckily without being seen. You didn’t know whether you were going to try to speak to him, you didn’t have a clue if he even remembered you.
“Can I help you?” You must have been thinking for a good while because eventually, a familiar yet very new voice called out to you. Frowning, you saw it was the Fire Lord, looking at you with confusion and concern. You tilted your head, not saying anything, just looking at him. He had more muscle than before, that was obvious. He had grown a lot taller. His hair was tied into a bun at the top of his head, instead of his signature ponytail, with baby hairs pulled out at his hairline. His eyes were a different shade of gold, they glistened and shone, even without the sunlight hitting him. You hadn’t seen his scar, and frankly, you never wanted to, but you really had no choice, frowning as you looked at it. “Um.. Are you okay?”
His words sent your mind into an emotional frenzy, and you broke down as you recalled the day he left you, falling to your knees, tears flooding down your face, sobs thick with sorrow. It took Zuko by surprise, not exactly knowing how to help. He knelt beside you and gently placed his hand on your shoulder, to which you flinched away, looking up at him. His heart ached at the sight of your tear stained face; puffy eyes, red cheeks and swollen lips. However, it wasn’t until he looked closer at your broken eyes that he saw. He saw that they were the same broken eyes , the same teary eyes that pleaded him not to leave. Gasping, he pulled you into a hug. You grunted, struggling in his grip.
“Get off!” Your voice broke as you pushed him away from you. Zuko didn’t know what to do. He thought you would be happy to see him after all these years, but then again his abrupt exit left you shattered, and he could clearly see it.
“Y/N..”
“Don’t you dare.” You glared at him, flames in your eyes. He sighed in defeat and shut his mouth, looking at you, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, Zuko sighed and opened his mouth once again.
“Y/N, please. Just let me-”
“Stop it.” You spat, venom thick on your tongue. “You think you can just leave me, your best friend, for three years, come back with the avatar as Fire Lord and I’ll forgive you? You’re stupid, Zuko.” He breathed when you said his name, sadness glossing over his eyes.
“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, you’ll never understand.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix something like this.” Zuko dodged your gaze as you tried to lock your eyes with his. “I loved you. I loved you more than anything. I was there for you, through everything. And you left me, without a care in the world. Tch. Some Fire Lord.” The harsh words, and use of past tense, caused the boy to flinch, his brows knitting together in empathy.
“Y/N-”
“Stop saying my-”
“Can you just let me talk? Please?” You were hurting, and knew you deserved some sort of an explanation, so you allowed him to continue. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Truly. I can never, ever take back what I did. It breaks my heart knowing what I did to you. And I wish I could take it back. But, I just want you to know.. I never stopped thinking about you. I loved you a-and I still do. With all of my heart. I’m s-”
“Stop saying you’re sorry.”
“You’re why I changed my path. When I left, I thought my destiny was to capture the avatar and restore my honor, and come home, to you. To my family. But my Uncle got inside my head and I began to realize that you would hate me, if I enabled my father’s sick fantasy of superiority. So I had to do something about it. And that’s why I’m here, trying to make amends for what my family had done. I am so, so sorry, Y/N. And if you could ever find it in your heart to forgive me, I would be-” Zuko was cut off by you, pulling him into a tight hug. He sighed contently, happy to finally have you back in his arms, willingly. He stroked your hair as you sobbed against his chest. You felt safe in his embrace and gently leaned into him, smiling at his warmth.
“I never stopped loving you, Y/N.” Feeling too weak to say anything, you looked up to him and cupped his cheek in your small hand, smiling wider than you had before, tears staining your pretty face. Zuko leaned into your touch and smiled back at you, using his thumbs to delicately wipe the tears from your face. He pressed a light kiss to your temple before pulling you into a hug once again. You sniffled, before opening your mouth to speak.
“I forgive you, Zuko.”
“Thank you, Y/N.”
“Zuko?”
“Yes?”
“I never stopped loving you either.” Zuko smiled at your words, slowly leaning in before touching his lips with yours. You were both equally as happy to be back in each other’s arms. You loved each other, and you were finally together again. The Fire Lord finally felt like he was truly at home again, as did you, in his embrace.
“So... ‘Fire Lord Zuko’, huh?”
my masterlist (requests open!)
A/N : guys im SO SORRY i havent written for so long and i promise im getting to the other requests but it might take me a little while and im so so sorry but im suffering such bad writers block rn and ive been so busy the last few days too but anyway im so sorry this is short i hope u like it though and i also hope you have a fantastic day ilysm<3 xo p
#avatar#aang#avatar the last airbender#avatar the legend of korra#avatar the rise of kyoshi#the legend of korra#legend of korra#the last airbender#prince zuko#zuko#zuko x reader#poor zuko#fire lord zuko#fire lord ozai#fire lord azula#atla azula#atla#sokka x reader#azula x reader#prince zuko x reader#katara x zuko#katara x jet#katara x reader#earth kingdom#ba sing se#fire natio#air nomads#northern water tribe#southern water tribe
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OKAY SO FOR THE DETAILED OC ASK MEME, gimme 1, 4, 9, 12, 18, 21, 29 and 45 for Skuggy, Buggy, Dexter and Farrow! OR JUST PICK ONE OF THEM IM SO SORRY IM FERAL I JUST SEE FUNNY OC QUESTIONS AND GO "haha what if i just *sends literally all of them*" (Mari is also an option however ik you said she's not the most developed yet however she is pretty woman and i am... i am simping respectfully /lh)
THANKS FOR ENABLING ME THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUCKING LONG I CAN FEEL IT IM SORRY ill answer it to whomever i can think of most for ig. never apologize 4 enabling my rambles
1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?
FUN FACT buggy and skuggy's last name used to be scoville. initially i just picked it from my brain bc i thought it was cool, but THEN i realized that you measure spiciness using Scoville units and i went holy FUCK!!! BC perfect. anyways i changed it to scoven to match w my friend's oc bc we made them brothers (and i like it it looks nicer :3 also coven) but a scoville was fucking amazing pun for buggy. also buggy's name is in reference of his arsonist name Firebug, and skuggy is short for serial killer buggy lol
like caonically according 2 his backstory farrow's first name used to be his last name so that's why his name is all weird. however development-wise his last name also Used to be the last name of an escort throwaway character, but i switched their names around because i didn't really like how it sounded. his old last name used to be Retner before i changed it to Farrow! so theres an alternate universe where his first name is actually retner. fuckin insane. imagine that
4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?
ough. so i don't have mari's backstory at All so sowwy in advance. the other 4 however...
all of them dont have contact w their parents anymore but for roleswap i kinda? swapped buggy and skuggy's parents. buggy's dad was the kind loving on and his mom was the shitty overburdened one, while for skuggy it was the opposite! buggy's dad fostered his love for camping and being outside and Accidentally his love for fire, his mom kinda disowned him after he burned down their family home and led to the death of his dad. understandable! he grew up with his aunt or smtng instead who was like fuckin terrified of him LMAO. his nice memories are of camping w his dad and exploring the harbor when he was living w his aunt
skuggy on the other hand was closest 2 his mom who embraced his love 4 bugs even if they were scary 2 her. his dad was a former mafioso so he was cold n jaded and just wanted him 2 focus on survival and learning to defend himself bc they lived in a trial town. when his mom was poisoned n dieded his dad just shut down and went ok, parenting's over, your turn. so um. skuggy got the short end of the roleswap stick but did end up getting outta there as soon as he turned 18 and made a liddol life 4 himself. his nice memories r of hunting for bugs in the summer
farrow did Not ever know his mother other than from what little his dad told him about her but even then his dad was a single dad, very broke, working so so much at a soul draining office job and probably a second one on top of that and raising a kid he did Not ask for, so he did not spend a lot of time with him. this is probably why he is so fucked up bc once his dad got shot due to a mafia deal gone wrong, he had 2 live on his own in the city because he was terrified of being put in some stuffy orphanage or some shit. his nice memories (if he could remember them RIP) are of befriending possums in back alleys and eating lunch in the fields after baseball practice while his dad was still alive
idk dexters backstory at all and i dont want to make it as edgy as i made it when i was 13 but lord who knows what he did to his parents. i cant decide if he even had an attachment 2 his parents so like thats where we're at
9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?
animals can sense dexters fucked up vibes and do not like him. like at all LMAO
farrow is gentle when it comes 2 animals but still gets bitten and attacked by them u_u his pets love the shit out of him tho
buggy loves animals and grabs seagulls out of the air with his bare hands and they just sit there. i dont think animals hate or love him they just tolerate him
mari actually doesnt like butterflies or bugs that much but itd be funny if butterflies were drawn to her and shes like UGH god GO AWAY
12. What is their favourite food?
i dont know any yummy japanese cuisine so i cant answer but im guessing mari likes food from her home. bc girl me too. she also has a sweet tooth but not for chocolate just specifically sugary candy
skuggy's a soup fan and likes home-cooked meals. unfortunately he can't cook that good he just makes good soup and crock pot shit
buggys sweet tooth is so potent and he like chocolate the best
18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else?
mari likes action, horror, and shitty romcoms i think. idk what else u_u buggy likes shit like animal crossing and thinks pokemon go is fun but also likes comedy and romance. he likes tv shows over movies and isnt THAT much of a pussy for horror movies especially after the whole juggy thing and will watch horror w his friends but does hate jumpscares KHJF
farrow likes loud trash garbage music and thinks reading is lame. he likes movies over tv shows because his attention span is garbage, he also likes video games like fuckin idk. call of duty. he has a nintendo switch bc mendel got it for him when he was fused because haha two people can play video games with themselves. idk what games he has. probably has a stolen xbox
21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?
skuggy and farrow both get angry very easily but farrow is easier to be verbally provoked to where he is biting and screaming than skuggy is kjfhd. skuggy gets irritated and annoyed easily and he is not afraid to yell at someone or shove them around but it will take more than it takes to get farrow to the same level yknow
mari doesnt really get pissed that much, like she is very loud spoken if you're being a dick or unfair but she isn't like. farrow level of getting pissed at ppl KJHFJKD. shes a bit impatient but isnt gonna go apeshit on u
buggy is so very patient. he will let u walk over him. he has a normal temper but if you walk over him too noticeably and he catches on to what you're doing he will chew you out
dexter gets irritated and angry as much as farrow does but he bottles it in and contains himself better than farrow does so he doesn't look fuckin insane and looks normal, but he does let it slip out in that scary angry way where if he's angry he will talk to u very calmly with a grin on his face that says "i am going to snap you in half once we get out of public eye mark my fucking words"
29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?
if you aren't skuggy's friend he will tease you. but if you're his friends he will make a mental note to not introduce that fear to u and 2 subtly keep u safe from it bc He Gets It. however if ur fear is bugs he will need more time to remember bc he automatically goes to his friend w his bugs and slips up sometimes. like OH FUCK i forgot you dont like bugs. sorry
buggy will do his absolute best to remember anyone's fears out of just Caring About Others. but if you're a bad guy or someone who's hurt someone he won't hesitate to suggest using your fears against you
oh farrow teases you even if you're his friend. but if he really actually does care about you he'll protect you. he might tease you but if its legitimately a trauma or some shit he will bite and maul and kill for you. just dont point it out he'll get embarrassed
dexter Will use it against you whether you're a friend or not. you're not immune
mari is a normal sane person. she'll tease you a little but she does remember and tries to keep u out of ur fear's way
45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?
idk how to answer this it is a hard question.....
i do know dexter sees himself as a perfectly normal composed little man whos doing so good at infiltrating the town and studying them. but to others he just looks fuckin insane
also farrow thinks he is sooo scary. and threatening. and fun and wacky and crazy silly fun. but again people just think he's insane and kinda weird and dirtygross
skuggy just thinks he's a dude. like he's just a guy he doesn't rlly matter that much. to others he is most likely not just a dude and at LEAST is a weird little dude. maybe a scary little dude. maybe a friend dude. depends who they r
mari likes 2 think she is nonthreatening and just a fun lil guy! but um. unfortunately people probably look at the 4 eyes and go ough.
THERE my essay is done holy shit this took so long hjhsjdf THANKS if u read this far idk what to say man thanks for listening to my rambles. giving u big hug
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Hello! I absolutely love all of your stories! I have a request, can you do a Starker story where Peter and his class go on a field trip to stark tower? I don’t really mind what happens there I just really want to see the ship. If you can thanks so much 💗
CHAPTER 2: BACKPACK
(Read chapter 1: Science Rules on Tumblr / AO3)
Summary: Peter is 14. Recently got his Spider powers and is no longer friends with Flash. Ned is in the picture. They go on a high school excursion and Peter is set on finding Tony to ask if he can join the Avengers. Side note: Tony is not romantically/sexually interested in Peter until chapter 3, when they are in an established relationship. Warnings: Angst. They talk about death whilst not actually mentioning it. Flash is an absolute asshole as always.
Rating: Mature (just to be sure for later on lol).
I actually had this one finished last Sunday but never got around to posting it. It isn’t edited at all, so I hope you enjoy! :P -Lien
“Mister Thompson, if you don’t take a seat this instant, it’ll be detention for you,” Mister Harrington threatens. Flash immediately presses his ass back into his seat and grins at Peter from a distance. They might resent each other now, but their infinite common interest in science, technology and Tony Stark has never faded. They don’t really talk to each other anymore and Peter is not expecting their broken friendship to ever be mended. Not with how Flash treats him these days, at least. The first cracks in their friendship appeared during their last visit to Stark Industries, when Flash became jealous of Peter for spending time with Tony. Flash’s behavior completely changed with his growing popularity at Midtown High. With regards to friendships, he ended up choosing quantity over quality. This resulted in him attempting to gain the schoolkids’ favors by bullying. Since Peter used to be his friend, he became an easy target. Peter might miss what they once had, but at least he managed to trade his friendship with Flash for an even better one. Ned Leeds enabled his geeky side and ever since the boy had helped Peter up after Flash had pushed him to the floor the first time, they became inseparable. Obviously, the school wanted to go to Avengers Tower to get them interested in pursuing careers in science and technology. Something both Ned and Peter already kind of were. As excited as everyone was to get a look inside the labs and workshops, there is a significantly higher interest in getting a glimpse of not just Tony Stark, but of any of the Avengers, now that Stark Tower has been rebirthed as Avengers Tower. However, there was another occupation that Peter also took interest in now that he had gained his Spider powers a little over half a year ago. Becoming an Avenger was his number one career dream. He’d no longer just help the little guy. He’d be able to help everyone. There’s nothing Peter wanted more than to run into Tony again like he did when they had the class trip in middle school. Maybe Peter could train under him? Learn from him? Tony would be the Master to his Padawan. He’d be an Avenger. All he needed right now was the courage to actually ask. Well, he’d have to find Tony- or any Avenger for that matter- first. … The second they set foot in the building, Peter grabs his bag and takes out the Science Rules cap that he wore as a child. He didn’t expect Tony to actually recognize him after all these years, but at least he has one point of reference he could fall back on. Security reminds him he’s not allowed to wear the cap inside, so he opts to attach it to his belt and have it hang from his hip. Flash makes an off-handed comment about it, but Peter ignores him. It still baffles Peter that Flash seems to feel no remorse for joking about the cap that he knows was Peter’s father’s. After the first two hours of the excursion Peter already starts losing hope. Most locations they go to are quite secluded and it’s not easy to get away from the security’s watchful eyes. They had to put their bags in a locker room earlier, so save for his web shooters, Peter couldn’t show Tony the suit he'd so proudly put together. If he would ever run into him. After hour three they’re finally allowed to go into the labs and actually do some tests themselves. Most of the materials they work with are quite harmless. The only thing that really could hurt them if they’re not careful is the bottle of slightly diluted bleach on their desks. At least all of the students want to make a good impression on Stark’s scientists, so they’re all on their best behavior. Everyone, but… “Whoopsies,” Flash deadpans next to Peter. The teen looks up surprised from his own workbench to see Flash, who is stationed next to him, purposefully elbow the bleach bottle. The opening up top is small, but some of the liquid still splashes out of it. Onto Peter’s hip. Peter stares at the cap that now has bleach splattered all over it and then back up at Flash who grins. “Guess it really is a one of a kind now.” Peter runs away from his spot to one of the security guards. He doesn’t trust himself to not start crying if he actually takes time to ask his question properly so all he can blurt out is: “Toilet?” The guard sees Peter’s panic and lets him out. “Uh, there’s one on the left right there.” “Th-thank-“ Water. Peter needs water right now. Needs to wash it out, even though the fabric is already lightening. Who knows, maybe he could wash it out with the tears that are forming in the corners of his eyes. He rushes and throws open the door, immediately starting the stream of water and shoving the cap under it. The further he can dilute the bleach, the better. His left hand clutches the little tag on the inside in an attempt to keep anything from spilling into it and messing up his father’s handwriting. A soft sob escapes his throat, but he’s startled to hear a urinal flush in one of the stalls. He sniffs and attempts to wipe away the tears with the elbow of his shirt. When he hears the door unlock he looks down in a half-assed attempt to focus on cleaning the cap. He bites on the inside of his cheek and clenches his jaw, feeling the presence of the man from the stall emerge. The man casually washes his hands next to Peter but his movement suddenly halts. “Peter?” Peter could recognize that voice in his sleep. His heart beats loudly in his chest and the world is spinning. He blinks before whipping his head up to lock eyes with Tony Stark. “Jeez, you’ve grown.” The man’s brows curl together at the look on Peter’s face. The boy breaks eye contact and looks forward into the mirror, only to realize his cheeks are red and his eyes are puffed. “What the hell happened?” There’s a moment of silence. Peter barely realizes that Tony recognized him. Knows him, still. Is concerned for him. Peter’s mouth opens and closes and he takes a breath before looking back down at the cap and continuing to attempt to wash out the bleach. “Bleach,” he mumbles. “Didn’t take you to be that clumsy.” “Wasn’t wearing it.” “Still.” Peter scrubs more aggressively now, tears threatening to spill again. He’s making a fool of himself and he wishes he could just disappear. “Hey,” Tony says quietly. “Hey-“ Peter’s eyes widen at a hand suddenly holding onto his lower arm. Peter’s frozen where he stands and can only watch defeated as Tony turns off the tap. Only now he feels how wet his cheeks are. When did he start crying again? “Damage’s already been done.” Tony takes the cap out of Peter’s hands and studies the lightened splotches on the front. “Don’t you think this looks cool?” He tries. “Don’t want it to look cool.” “I’m sure your dad won’t-“ Tony stops himself, knowing exactly why he shouldn’t finish his thought. He sucks at his teeth and looks away. “Sorry, how’s your mom?” Peter nearly laughs at Tony’s inability to read the room. “She was with him.” Mortified at his previous decision on how to continue the conversation, Tony takes a step back. Peter looks down at his wet hands and adds: “It’s okay.” “To be honest, no, not really. Are you taken care of?” “My aunt.” “Didn’t Richard have a brother?” Peter looks up again and grimaces, feeling like every word falling from Tony’s lips is a stab to the heart. “Fuck, I’m-“ “It’s okay.” “It’s not.” Tony shakes his head and moves closer to Peter again. “I’m sorry, kid.” The man scoffs. “I used to be better at this… Well, no actually, that’s a lie.” Peter swallows as the two just stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, neither of them sure where to go with this. The boy then clears his throat and moves to stand up straight. “I am, eh… Here on another excursion.” “High school this time, I presume? Or are you in uni already?” “Parents wanted me to have a somewhat normal childhood, so they didn’t want me to get ahead that far. My aunt honors that wish.” Peter now properly washes his hands, since his hands had started to tingle from the bleach. “Aren’t you bored out of your mind, then?” Peter raises his eyebrows and chuckles. “Maybe.” Tony’s wrist beeps and he takes a glance at his watch, sighing exasperated. He heads for the door and hands Peter the cap back on his trek. “Pete, I’m sorry, I gotta go. Give reception a call-“ No, is all Peter can think. Before he can form a rational though, he reaches out and webs Tony’s hand to the door handle, locking both of them in the bathroom. Tony stares down at the substance keeping the door shut and his hand attached to it. “What the-“ “I want to join the Avengers.” Peter is ready to hit himself in the head. That question was way too direct and now he’s really done it. Tony laughs surprised. “Oh, bother. You’re Spider-Guy?” Peter’s eyes widen. The man hadn’t said no. “Spider-Man.” “Right.” “Wait, aren’t you fourteen?” Tony asks confused. Peter’s aware his physique as Spider-Man is wildly different from what he appears as in daily life. “And a half.” “Kid, if that really is you, you need to stop before you get in over your head, okay?” Tony wants to step towards him, but is held back by the webbing. “You think I’m lying?” Peter crosses his arms offended. “Well, no, but-“ The billionaire shakes his head at the substance and scoffs. “You’re putting yourself in danger when you shouldn’t.” “I’m not stopping.” “What- are you an adrenaline junkie? Please, don’t tell me you’re doing this because of me. It’s not worth it, I promise you.” Peter stares at the wet cap in his hands. “Not everything’s about you.” He wishes he swallowed those words, but Tony seemed to be self- aware enough, taking the comment somewhat gracefully. “Then what is it about?” “Half a year ago I got these… Powers.” Peter raises his hands up to look at them and sighs. “I’m stronger and faster… And I- well…” He trails off and pulls his face together in a frown. “When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen? They happen because of you.” “As inspiring as that is, you shouldn’t be doing any of the stuff I’ve seen in those videos.” Tony’s pulls at his wrist and swears silently. “Jesus, what is this made of?” “You… Watched the videos?” “Yeah, kid, I did, now please get this stuff off me?” “Right! It usually dissolves after two to three hours, but I have a dissolver in…” Peter falls silent as he realizes that what he needs is locked away by security. “Kid,” Tony threatens. “My backpack.”
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