#all i know is it's not canon with the main games and i never had any interest in it before

[goldenwitherphoenix13]

Throwing in my two pence here. This might get a little extensive and confusing, since I'm not great with words, so bear with me and trust me, ok?

First pence goes to this. Small thing on this being a non scripted series, yes, this is very true. None of the "curses" and stuff are planned, any references are usualy just thrown in for fun because the creators love watching us make our own stories and art, and Martyns lore is mostly his own AU that isn't connected to the main series.

But fandoms love making their own interpretations of stories, like Martyn does. It's why I have no problem with the "blessings and curses" of each participant. It's just the fan interpretations of funny coincidencs. The AUs we make. The fan content, artwork and stories, we make with the sturdy base of the life series. Jimmy and Martyn love reacting to fan made content, angsty or silly. They are loving it for the craft that it is! But they aren't canon, and never will be. Both sides know this. Scott's blessing won't always work, Grians widow curse won't always happen, and Jimmy's canary curse won't always play out quite the same as others expect it to do. Speaking of...

Time for that second penny. My interpretation of the Canary curse.

To me, the canary curse was NEVER about Jimmy being out first. It was NEVER about how he is bad at minecraft. It was NEVER about his permadeath being the the first one every time.

It was always about the chaos that came afterwards.

He wasn't cursed to die first, he was just the catalyst of disaster. When players would start to die left, right and center. It was a moment in every series where the red names would stack up and start to kill more and more, because now that a player had fallen, a sense of desperation falls across everyone. Dying first 4 times was just an unfortunate coincidence.

Jimmy is not awful at the game, he has some good skills. We can talk about that in a bit though.

The Canary in the coalmine might sometimes die to warn the coal miners of the poisons, but their silence without death speaks the exact same message.

Jimmy isn't cursed to die. Jimmy is blessed with a warning to everyone else that the end ic coming and discord wii be upon them soon.

And that warning is just his silence, through life and death.

He does not need to die for the Canary curse to come calling. Not to him. But to everyone.

Chucking in one extra penny, I would like to say that I very much think he can win. Genuinly, not having a laugh, not mocking it, and i'm not listening to anyone else. Session 3 gave me a scare, and i started doubting it, but i told myself (and Jimmy in chat) that i believe, and I was right to. Session 4 was amazing for him.

Jimmy is not bad at the game by any means. He can just be very unlucky. Events don't always line up for him so he ends up looking more incompetent than he is.

But when they do, well, just look at his 1v3 in dodgebolt and how he won the tournament for the crown in empires season 1, and remember how he spent the majority of Last life on YELLOW. And even episode 4 of wild life with how well he did in that session. I'm not saying he's the greatest minecraft player of all time because he does have his moments of lacking braincells like we all get, but he has got some skills. He just likes to mess about a bit to make things a little more entertaining for his viewers, he plays with his viewers in mind, but when he locks in, he very much locks in. And I love it.

I do still think he can win a life series. If not this one, maybe another one in the future. But I think he can do it. And if only one person in this universe believes that, then I am that one person.

Right, sorry if anything came off rude, im not the best at phrasing stuff so i might of misworded somethings here and there by accident. Again sorry if i did. I'm not here to change opinions, just to share my own. I'll leave now.

cries because everybody in this fandom sees the thought of Jimmy winning as a laughable impossibility and even people who say they're rooting for him only mean it as a joke and whenever you mention that he's doing good people have to let you know that it won't last long and inevitably he will die first because of some stupid self-fulfilling prophecy that got turned into my least favorite fanon ever. why can't he just be like a player who has a chance just like everyone else does. have you stopped to consider WHY he dies first so often? it's not a curse. this isn't a scripted series. it's because he's incredibly pacifistic and because people generally don't want to help him because they consider him a weak player. both of these things have been done away with this season, he has a taste for blood and an ally who is both incredibly underrated in his strength and has said he would never betray him. jimmy has as much a chance as anyone else.

[lissa612]

It’s sorta crazy how a stupid TV show has been able to trigger my anxiety so bad, but it makes sense when I consider all I had been using my hyper fixation on it to distract myself from. Alas, my anxiety has brought back my insomnia which means I wake up sometime between 1am and 2:30am every morning and just MIGHT start feeling ready to fall asleep against around 5…When my alarm goes off to get ready for work.

But it leaves me a lot of time for random pondering. And this morning got me thinking of one thing that either pisses me off or gives me hope (I guess I’ll know eventually…)

They didn’t need a character like Tommy for Buck’s bi (? Maybe - That actually hasn’t truly been confirmed in canon 🙄) awakening.

This is going to sound a lot like some of the anti-Tommy talking points, but please stay with me.

It really COULD have been any good looking, cool guy who did it. Imagine Johnny, a 40yo adrenaline junkie sport type that Buck and Eddie meet during a big emergency the way they met Ali. Now unlike Ali, Johnny keeps it together during the emergency and like Ali helps them save himself and others. Could even make him a military man. Now they could leave this emergency all having one another’s numbers and something along the lines of 7x04 still could have happened.

Buck calls Johnny to see his fun exciting job/hobby, but Johnny is pulled away when Eddie shows up for them to go do something they’d already planned. Buck isn’t complaining to Maddie about Eddie spending all this time with the new guy, but it’s not the cool pilot she already knows about but the cool free climber or whatever they met on a call. The same conclusions are still met with the conversation. Maybe the basketball game isn’t strictly first responders…Chim doesn’t have quite the same idea what’s going on since he really doesn’t know this guy, but he gets that Buck only asked him to the game because Eddie was bringing his new friend. Things still go badly for Eddie’s ankle and Johnny comes to the loft to apologize. There’s no talk about the 118 family, of course, but perhaps some other vulnerability about friendships and a kiss. There’s a date that still goes to hell. There’s coming out to Maddie and Eddie. There’s the coffee meet up. They could still have Buck go balls to the wall and invite him to the wedding despite him only really know Buck and Eddie. Johnny wouldn’t go to the bachelor party and maybe he comes to the hospital, maybe he doesn’t.

Their relationship does what Buck’s relationships do when there isn’t much connecting the person to his teammates or the plots of the show. Bobby can only say that Buck seems happy and settled…He can’t pass judgment on a person he doesn’t know. And they go through the dramas of the 118 together until something triggers a desire for a big move forward for Buck…And the same sort of break up happens.

It’s sad. It’s probably still a bit offensive. But there was never any loss to what could have been brought to the show overall by the departure of Buck’s latest partner, even if he was new in some ways.

But that’s not what happened.

They decided to bring in an established character that could be molded into what they wanted. A firefighter. Better yet, a firefighter PILOT on a show about firefighting that could use some fresh emergency plot ideas. A character with history in the house that holds Buck’s family. With Chim and with Hen and even with Bobby if it’s not nearly as much since Bobby wasn’t his open hearted self back when Tommy was there. And Tommy wasn’t either.

So you have this character who is compatible with the job. He can make for interesting storylines outside of relationship ones. There isn’t going to be a lame break up because the job is dangerous. There isn’t going to be a betrayal based on their mutual prioritizing of work since they would both understand how the work needs priority. You have things you can explore putting the character in pairings with practically every other main and have it make sense.

All that potential by choosing to go with this character that fits so well to just NOT do any of it.

That’s the real loss I am feeling as a fan of the show from the beginning.

And yeah, I shipped BuckTommy and I had hopes for things I wanted to see between them because Buck is my favorite character and I love seeing him shine. I’m heartbroken by his heart being broken. I’m heartbroken because I saw all this potential that I assumed professional storytellers would also see and not squander. That assumption left me blindsided when it seemed they did squander it.

And everyone saying it was written on the wall - It wasn’t. Yes, Buck’s relationships always fail. That’s how things work - Relationships fail until one WORKS. And this one seemed like it should work. Unless you are watching through goggles telling you without a doubt Buck’s endgame lays elsewhere, there was no warning that this is what would happen at the 6 month mark of the relationship.

And it seems like a really dumb thing to do, to let go of such an interesting tool you have available to you as a storyteller. You didn’t have to make the character such an asset to you and the story.

Maybe I’m jumping the gun and they do have plans for possible stories in the future. Awkward emergencies with the 118 and 217 on a scene together for some reason that will use some of that potential. So maybe there is some reason to hope.

Or maybe it is just wasted. And I’m pissed as a fan of the show and as someone who feels emotionally whiplashed by 8x05 and 8x06.

I guess we’ll see. I refuse get my hopes up. Perhaps I’ll watch the show live tonight…Depends if being up at 2am means I’m exhausted by 6:30pm again today (I was only able to force myself to stay awake until 8pm last night). I’ll watch eventually regardless. But I’m probably back to watching the show the way I did before and how I currently watch Ghosts and Tracker…When I remember the show, I’ll binge what I missed. Or I’ll turn it on if I remember during the timeslot. It’s no longer must see TV for me that I will make plans around.

Anyway, done rambling…

[heatmiiiiser]

Ggrrr I wish disenchantment was better. I binged it all because I'm sick somebody talk to me about this.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Different anon, but Road to Survival retconned some things about TFS. For example, when Louis voted, he wanted both to stay compared to the original game, and RTS follows the captured Violet route. I don't remember how it ended, but yeah, they changed some things.

.......hang on, this confuses me

So I don't play Road to Survival, I've never played it, I don't know shit about it... so you could tell me anything [bullshit or not] about it and I'd be like "wow neat that's cool :D" none the wiser.

But okay, if they retconned Louis' vote and made him more openly on Clementine and AJ's side during this point to possibly avoid people being pissy with him, did they also retcon Violet being upset after being captured? Because I can tell you Violet being angry and attacking Clementine when you let her get captured made people pissy, myself included.

[fujii-draws]

@s1nn0hh THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN FOR THE UNWELL TAGS I WILL NOW ELABORATE ON IN MY OWN TAGS

Ultimatum

[silkentine]

All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”

Design Notes and other opining below the cut:

For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.

He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL

If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.

Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL

For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.

I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.

It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!

[littledovesnow]

a growing family pt. 2

a/n: yay for part 2!! read part one here

word count: 1.8k

warnings: pregnancy, pretty canon-level violence and stuff i think. also i'm sorry in advance about this part <3

-----

"Now, Mr. Snow, you and your wife leave tomorrow for your District Tour." Lucky Flickerman spoke into microphone, eyes bouncing between Coriolanus and you.

Coriolanus nodded, not quite sure where this was going. He was briefed on the. main topics that Flickerman would go over during the interview and this was not one of them.

"Is there any worry about the twins? Congratulations, by the way! Twins! How lucky are you!"

You smiled, patting your husband's hand to signal that you would answer this question.

"Thank you, Lucky," you started, sweet smile on your face. "I've been in conversation with my medical team, and we've all come to an agreement that it's quite safe for me to travel with Coriolanus and the rest of his cabinet. I'm not due for another couple of months, anyway."

Coriolanus smiled at you, voicing his answer, as well. "We've also spoken to the OB/GYN, and she will be joining us on the latter half of the tour. We hope she can just enjoy the travel, not needed for any medical emergencies."

Lucky nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Now, Coriolanus, you've mentioned in some changes to the Hunger Games in the coming years. We've had questions coming in from watchers, but first, a few words from our generous sponsors."

The red light went off on top of the cameras, and you let the superficial smile fall from your face, hand going to rub your lower back.

"Your back still hurt, love?" Coriolanus asked, noticing your discomfort.

"I think our kids are going to be soccer professional, Coryo." You grumbled, one of the twins had been kicking mercilessly for a few weeks.

Coriolanus chuckled, removing your hand, using his palm to massage the area. "Well, you can tell them off when they're out here."

Lucky, who had been observing the couple from his spot on the seat across from them, wore a smile. "One thing that my wife asked I do when she was pregnant with Caesar was massage her back every night. Sometimes she still makes me do it."

You smiled at the TV host, humming. "Not a bad idea. Coryo, I think I know what your next job will be."

Coriolanus snorted, hand still massaging your back. "Anything for the mother of my children."

-----

The train car you were currently seated in was more luxurious than you remembered, seats having been upholstered from your last trip out of the Capitol.

You looked away from the mountain ranges decorating the horizon when the door opened, Coriolanus entering.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, coming to sit in the seat across from you, moving your feet from the seat to his lap.

Humming, you leant your head back as he began massaging them. "Better now. What was that meeting for? I thought you had travel days free."

Coriolanus pondered over how to answer, not wanting to tell you he had just had some rebels executed for a potential threat in Six. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

Opening an eye to look at him, you could read the man like an open book. "How many were there?"

There was a beat of silence before Coriolanus spoke up.

"Four. Would have been three but some things you can't avoid."

You didn't reply, simply wiggling your foot when Coriolanus' hands stopped massaging the arch of your foot.

He laughed, resuming the action as you two watched the mountain ranges and nature outside of the train.

-----

You yawned, staring at the ceiling of the Crane's hotel in District Three. It was nearing one in the morning, and you had gotten a sum total of about two and a half hours since you and Coriolanus crawled into the bed.

Moving as quietly as you could, you rose from the bed, waiting a beat to see if Coriolanus woke up.

His rather loud snore told you he was still off dreaming, something you were thankful for. He had a lot on his shoulders, and you didn't want to add onto the never-ending pile of worry and stress with the upcoming election.

Moving to the bathroom, you softly closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. The twins had been keeping you up at night more frequently, and your OB/GYN said it was just because while they were starting to get a regular sleep pattern, they couldn't tell day from night and often slept during the day.

When you opened the door, you frowned when you saw your husband sitting up in the bed, cheek still indented from the creases in the pillow.

"What are you doing up?" He asked, voice hoarse from sleep.

Rubbing one hand across your ever-growing bump, sleepily blinking at the man across from you. "Your children are wide awake, it seems."

Coriolanus smiled, patting the spot you had previously occupied. "Come here, I'll rub your back."

With the promise of that, you made your way back into the bed, stuffing one of the many pillows on the bed between your knees.

"Oh, well hello, little one."

You looked at where Coriolanus was staring at your bump, tiny foot barely visible. "Oh that's the most disturbing thing I think I've ever seen."

"Don't say that!" Coriolanus chided, though there was a smile on his face. "That's your child in there!"

"Coryo, you shouldn't be able to see their hands from outside!" You laughed, even though your OB/GYN said it was very possible to start to see little hands and feet as there became less and less free space.

Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your hairline, rubbing the place where the foot was. "Hi, babies. Please let your mother sleep, she needs to help me win over the hearts of Panem."

Rolling your eyes, you moved Coriolanus' hand to your back, letting your head fall back against a pillow. "Rub my back."

"Yes dear."

-----

Hand clasped tightly in Coriolanus' you two followed the Peacekeepers to the barracks to meet with the district's mayor and Commanding Peacekeeper.

You two had won the hearts over a majority of each District you've visited, but as you two traveled farther from the Capitol, you knew it would be more difficult and the chance of threats and rebels increased.

The number of Peacekeepers surrounding you two had grown within each stop, Coriolanus wanting to make sure nothing happened to his wife and mother of his children, his heirs.

"Mr. and Mrs. Snow, we're very pleased you two could be here!" The mayor smiled, shaking both of your hands.

You returned the sentiment, eyes locked on the plush-looking chair behind him. "Is it alright if I sit? My feet are killing me."

The mayor, who seemed to have just realized how large your bump had grown, nodded quickly, gesturing to the chair you had pointed to.

Coriolanus stood behind you, one hand smoothing your hair as he and the mayor discussed the afternoon's speeches and tour around the main hub.

"Will you be joining us, Mrs. Snow?"

"No, she's been feeling a little more tired." Coriolanus replied before you could speak up.

The mayor frowned, seemingly disappointed.

"Is there a problem?" You asked, feeling Coriolanus' hand still at the nape of your neck.

"Well, the children here have been so excited to meet you, but I'm sure seeing Mr. Snow will be just as fine."

Coriolanus knew you had a soft spot for children, how they still saw the best in everything. "Love, you barely slept last night. It's safer if you rest."

"Coryo, it won't be too long. And besides, we have a couple travel days I can catch up on sleep."

You ignored your husband's deep frown, instead smiling at the mayor. "We can't possibly let the kids down, can we?"

The mayor clapped happily, rising from his seat. "Well then, shall we go?"

You stood from the chair with some help from your husband, who placed a hand on your lower back, unable to keep his hands off of you.

"You're a spoiled brat, you know that?" He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"And you love me for it." You replied, sharp smile on your face.

-----

Coriolanus watched as you followed a few of the schoolchildren around the classroom, letting them explain the backgrounds of their various posters and projects.

"She's going to be a wonderful mother." The mayor spoke, standing next to Coriolanus.

He nodded, watching you kneel down to listen more to a rather small girl, your eyes focused on her entirely. "She already is."

"Mr. Snow, Mayor, we're going to be late if we don't head for the town square now."

Nodding, Coriolanus walked over to your side, kneeling down next to you and the young girl. "Hi, love. Mind introducing me to your friend?"

You looked at your husband, and then at the young girl. "Coryo, meet Clementine. Her friends call her Clemmie."

Coriolanus saw the twinkle in your eye as you looked back at the girl. "It's lovely to meet you, Clemmie. You know, Mrs. Snow and I have a friend named Clemmie."

"Really?" Little Clementine asked, eyes wide.

Nodding, Coriolanus helped you stand up straight. "We do, but don't worry, we can have two Clemmies. Now, I do have to steal Mrs. Snow now, we have to go to town square."

Clementine pouted, but nodded. "It was nice to meet you!"

"You, too, Clemmie! Good luck with your new brother!" You smiled, squeezing Coriolanus' hand as the two of you followed some Peacekeepers out of the school and down to the town square and stage.

You've only seen the stage on television for the Reaping Ceremonies, it looked larger on screen. "She was so sweet, Coryo. She was telling me how her mother looked like me and now she has a little brother."

Coriolanus smiled, thumb rubbing your hand. "That's very sweet. I'm sure you made her ent-"

A loud explosion cut Coriolanus off, Peacekeepers immediately springing into action, separating the two of you to get you both to safety.

There were a few more explosions around the stage, sending debris and dirt in the air.

"Coryo!" You called, trying to wriggle out of the Peacekeepers' grip and find your husband.

You coughed as you inhaled smoke, eyes wide to spot Coriolanus. "Let me go! I need to find Coriolanus!"

"Ma'am, you need to come with us! We have orders to bring both you and Mr. Snow to a safe room, please cooperate."

You had a disdain for the Peacekeeper who spoke to you rather harshly, feeling his hands tighten their grip on your bicep.

Stumbling a few times, you had finally made it to the small bunker, heart hammering when you saw Coriolanus and the mayor already in there, dirt on both of their faces and clothing.

"Love," Coriolanus sighed in relief, though it was short-lived as he ran his eyes over your body. "Love, you're bleeding."

-----

a/n: oh how i love a good cliff-hanger

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Mind Games (2)

Direct cntinuation to Mind games (til we lose control) (takes place before lost time)

Ben/Soldier Boy X Supe!Fem!reader

Summary: Herogasm proves to be a disaster for everyone involved, but at least you and Ben still have each other at the end of the night. Takes places during the Herogasm episode but like I did my own shit

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it mfs), p in v, shower sex (pls don't try to recreate this, SB has super strength, your man does not, you might break sum), oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, dom!Soldier Boy, praising kink, Ben calls her mean things a lot (but she likes it), choking, hair pulling, spitting, Soldier Boy cause mf is a warning on his own, typical canonical violence for this show, no use of y/n, Violet isn't her real name, just a nickname.

WC: 6.9k I'm so sorry

A/N: WHAT DID I TELL YALL MFSSS. Took me 2 years to revisit it but yk what it's fine cause every year is Soldier Boy's year. So yeah here we are. I will warn yall im not too good at writing action/fight scenes, like it made sense in my head but idk if that image translated well into the scene. I only know how to write smut im sorry. But to my Ben/Jensen girlie's, this is for you. I'll see yall in hell <3

Gif is not mine I found it on Pinterest

Universe masterlist | I no longer have a tag list so if you'd like to keep up with updates follow @midnightreadinglibrary

Fucking Herogasm. Christ, you didn't remember the last time you were here. Funny, the last time you went to a Herogasm party it was coincidentally with Ben. And it was in fact the last one you ever went to. It never felt right to go back without him. 

"Fuckin' Herogasm," Butcher laughed and shook his head, glancing back at you with intrigue, "You ever been Violet?" 

Your lips curled up a bit and you licked your lips slowly, glancing at Ben for a second before you found two pairs of curious eyes on you. 

"Yeah, every year for like ten years." You responded, and you were met with a look of disbelief from Hughie, and even Butcher had a slight glint of surprise in his eyes. Perhaps they didn't take you as the orgy, drugs and depravity type of supe, not that you blame them, that never truly was your idea of fun. But you weren’t entirely innocent either. "I'm serious. You can ask Ben if you don't believe me." 

Both men gave Ben a long glance and he laughed, shrugging at you. 

"She ain’t lying, I took her to her first one, in 74' was it? Should've seen her, such a pretty doe-eyed lil’ thing, with a face like hers she fooled everyone." 

"Oh, yeah, you showed innocent little me all the ropes. It was very educational." You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the small grin on your face, and Ben had one of his own. 

For a moment you forgot neither of the other two men quite understood whatever was going between you and Ben, so you missed the uncomfortable look on their faces. 

"Oh, I showed you a hell of a lot more than just the ropes, sweetheart." 

"And I'll show you both the barrel of a gun if I have to endure another second of your trip down erotic memory lane. Can we focus here?" Butcher groaned, looking both annoyed and disturbed by your relationship, like a parent who was tired of keeping his two horny teenagers in line. 

You exchanged a look with Ben, eyes big and lips pursed as you tried not to laugh and you gave him a look of having just been scolded. He simply rolled his eyes and half paid attention to Hughie and Butcher as they went back and forth about who was going in first. 

You, as always, just stood there and observed, absentmindedly twirling your knife between your fingers as you listened to them agree that Hughie should go in first so you could be in and out as quickly as possible. In between your own priorities, Ben being the main one, you had almost forgotten why you were here in the first place. Despite the fact that you were picking off Payback's members one by one, you quickly realized this wasn't for you, or Ben and his plot for revenge. No, it was about Butcher getting his. And the two of you were simply there to make it happen. 

You had begun to wonder if this was all there was to it, a means to an end, and in reality neither you or Ben had much of a chance to make it out this revenge mission alive. But if there was something you knew for sure, it was that you would die before you let anything happen to Ben again. Deep down, you hoped he would do the same for you. 

"I'm gonna go check the area before we go in, make sure there aren't any surprises." Butcher announced after a minute or two of waiting, Hughie not being back yet. He started walking, but not before turning to glance at you both with narrowed eyes, "And you two behave, last time I left you cunts alone you broke a bathroom." 

You did a mocking salute to him and snorted when he rolled his eyes at you, grumbling something you didn't quite hear as he began to walk away. He was out of your sight pretty quickly and you could already feel Ben's intense gaze burn on your face. You ignored it at first, but when he stood in front of you, eyes never leaving you, you had no choice but to look at him. You stopped your fidgeting and you looked up at him expectantly as you leaned back against a tree.

"I don't need to read your mind to know you want to tell me something, what's up?" 

"What you said back at the motel, did you mean it?" He questioned, leaning close to your face as he placed a hand beside your head. You stared at him for a second, trying to dig in your mind for whatever it was that he meant. You found his green eyes and you realized. 

Ah. The three fucking words. 

"Seriously Ben?" You groaned, your head falling to the side with annoyance, but more of all you wanted to avoid his gaze, avoid the shame of having confessed your deepest feelings, knowing feelings wasn't something either of you ever talked about let alone ever admitted to. Because feelings meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant weakness. And weakness wasn't something either of you would ever admit to.

He grabbed your chin, grip tight as he forced you to look at him, "Did you? ‘Cause I meant what I said, all of it." 

Your face softened and your lips slightly curved into a tiny smile. You never wanted to search his mind without his permission, it was like a line you never liked to cross, but you didn't need to this time. Just by looking into his eyes you always knew. You could tell a lot by looking into someone’s eyes. You searched his eyes for any kind of deceit or even manipulation, but you didn't find any. You knew what he meant, and coming from him, it meant everything. 

"Yeah," You sighed softly, "I meant what I said." 

"Good." His pink lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he squeezed your face and leaned down, capturing your lips into his own. It was slower, no rushed and desperate touches like before, but he still kissed you hard. There was nothing gentle about it, but was there ever anything gentle about him? 

His tongue slipped into your mouth as he dropped his hand, resting it on the column of your neck. He pressed his armored chest against yours, pretty much pinning you against the tree. His mouth was so skilled, like he knew exactly how to take your breath away in seconds, he knew you that well. You would never allow a man to have this much control over you. But it was always different with him. Your hands found his long strands as you explored his mouth, and you pulled hard. You felt him groan against your mouth and he squeezed your neck in response. You gasped, the sound quickly fading into a soft moan. He pulled back and watched with amusement the look of pure ecstasy on your face as he squeezed your throat. 

"You fucking slut, you still get off to me hurting you, don't you?" He bit his lip as he released your throat, thumb brushing over the skin he knew would bruise, just like everybody else's, even if it was for a little bit. 

You inhaled deeply, the short lack of airflow making you dizzy, but in the most delicious way possible. You opened your eyes, finding his green ones and god you wished nothing but to just ditch the mission and go somewhere where he could take you, over and over again. 

"Are we here to get revenge or are we here to get your dick wet? ‘Cause I'm getting some real mixed signals here." You mumbled, breath heavy and he chuckled. He leaned down, pressing his lips to your jaw before he moved them to your ear. 

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard I'm gonna break a hell of a lot more than just a mirror." He coaxed. The way he spoke in your ear made you rub your thighs together and the pool forming in your panties was impossible to ignore. It was embarrassing how quickly he could pull you apart and do with you what he pleased. "When we get back. Now pull yourself together, we're on a mission." 

And just like that he was standing a few feet away from you. He was looking behind his shoulder, almost as if he could hear someone. And of course, just in time for you to somewhat regain your composure, Butcher came back. Though it wasn't before you locked eyes with Ben one more time as you tried to control your breathing, and the cocky bastard winked at you, lips curled into a shit eating grin before Butcher actually approached you both. 

This motherfucker. 

"All clear. The twins are in there. You shouldn't have a problem going in," He said to Ben, but then looked at you, "You, though, you might get some attention. Pretty girl, dressed in black leather and strapped with knives, that's some BDSM shit if I've seen one." 

"Okay and?" You frowned, now standing by both men.

"Just stay close to him, people might recognize you and approach you. Do what you can to keep a low profile. You might have to get your hands a bit dirty." He looked between you and Ben. You stared at him with a small frown at first, but when he raised his eyebrows at you, you quickly realized what he meant. 

"Wouldn't be the first time." Ben commented with a chuckle when he caught on. You looked at him, slightly unimpressed by his lack of discretion but you simply rolled your eyes. 

Butcher sighed heavily, clearly done with your antics by then and he simply motioned you off with an unimpressed expression, "Off you go, ya dirty cunts." 

"Looks like you might get your dick wet after all." You commented to Ben as you both headed off to the house. 

He chuckled, shooting you a glance as you stood in front of the door. You were both eager to get this over with, you more than him. It was one thing for him to be able to face the assholes that betrayed him, and you were happy to do it with him. But the idea of being around dozens of supes, in an environment where there were no rules, no respect and no boundaries, made you uneasy. You didn't know if you could handle that many voices all at once. It had been a long time since you had been around other Supes, let alone that many, and you had made that decision for a reason. 

Almost as if he could feel the anxiety radiate from you, you felt a large hand fill your own. Confused, you looked down and saw he had intertwined his fingers with your own. "There's nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart, it wouldn't be the first time we do this." 

"I haven't been around other supes since…" You inhaled deeply, your throat slightly closing up at the memory. The last time you stepped foot at Vought Tower, when you realized you couldn't do it anymore. Ben looked at you, eyebrows slightly knitted into a frown, "It's been a long time is all." 

"Just stay by my side, nobody will lay a hand on you. I'll always protect you, remember?" He gave your hand a slight squeeze and the calm yet assertive ring in his voice made you feel almost at ease. Almost. 

You stayed silent, needing all your energy and focus to keep the dozens of voices beginning to infiltrate your mind one by one. The sound of Ben speaking as a very naked man opened the door sounded far, distant, you didn't catch much of what they said. You only knew to move when you felt Ben tug you along. Now the sound of your racing heart was almost as loud as the voices. So fucking many people here. So many Supes. So many voices. All at once. It was deafening. It disgusted you, to have to hear every passing thought these depraved beings had. You didn’t realize you started digging your blunt nails into Ben’s gloves.

It didn’t hurt, but your enhanced strength definitely made him feel the tightening grip of your shaking hands. He stopped and looked at you with a twisted frown.

“The fuck is wrong with you now? You look like you saw your father.” 

You eyes snapped up to find him looking back at you with both confusion, and his version of concern. You opened your mouth but you could only stammer but no words actually came out. You couldn’t think. It was so loud. Your lip quivered ever so slightly as you felt your chest start to grow heavy. Ben saw the look on your face, the way your eyes were frantically looking around the room, your jaw wound up so tight he thought you’d break it. The last time he saw you like this was when you first joined Payback and didn’t have full control of your abilities. 

“Stop that, right now.” He gripped your shoulders hard, really fucking hard, enough to make you shift your focus on him for a moment. You looked at him with wide eyes. “Hey, I need you to focus. Get your head under control. I need you to have my back here, okay?”

“I… I don’t.. I can’t get them to stop. They won’t stop.” You said, so close to being on the verge of tears. “There’s so many, I can’t get them to shut the fuck up. I--” 

“Hey,” He shook you ever so slightly, leaning in close to your face. “The fuck did I just say? Get. yourself. Together. You used to tune ‘em out, remember? So tune them out.” 

You breathed in, your chest rising as you tried to drown out the noise, focus on his face, on his voice. But you couldn’t. You hadn’t been around this many people in nearly a decade.

“I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t be here. I’m sorry.” You shook your head frantically and tried to slip out of his grip but he didn’t let you. 

“I need you here. Just—hey,” he grabbed your jaw, looking out of the corner of his eyes to make sure you weren’t bringing in too much attention before he met your teary eyes. “Just look at me. I’m right here. Remember you used to tune everyone else out and only focus on my voice, hm? Focus on my thoughts, okay? It’s just you and me, fuck everyone else.” 

You stared at him, the green in his eyes seeming more and more green the longer you looked. You even saw a ring yellow in there. His voice. His thoughts, they had always calmed you, centered you. The voices grew more and more distant the longer you looked at him. You listened to his voice as his thoughts became your own. Until only the sound of his voice was in your head. Your breath was shaky as you closed your eyes, a laugh of relief leaving your lips.

He held your face for a little longer, his deep frown less harsh as he watched your face slowly visibly relax and the tension left your body.

“Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” You exhaled deeply and nodded at him, feeling like you were slowly regaining control of yourself. “Let’s go find the terror twins.” 

You walked around this house for what felt like hours. But it didn’t help that you were being stopped every five minutes by every naked Supe you walked by. Ben was anything but amused.

“I swear to fucking Christ if one more of these slimy jizz-covered fuck faces asks you to use your knives on them I will actually shove my shield up their ass.” Ben grumbled with a look of disgust on his face.

“They’d probably like that.” You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at the death glare he shot you.

“Eat shit.” You actually snorted this time, and you were full on giggling when he started mumbling curses at you as he walked off. 

You ultimately decided splitting up was probably the way to go, the house was way too big and had too many rooms, you’d find the twins quicker if you each went your own way. Ben was reluctant at first, a bit apprehensive to leave you on your own after you almost broke down earlier. But you reassured him you were fine and perfectly capable of going on your own. You ultimately realized you made the right choice. You didn’t know exactly when or how but out of nowhere you heard a loud blast in the next room and you were launched right through a wall from the blast. Pain immediately started shooting through your body at the impact. You were a Supe, sure, but you weren’t Soldier Boy, you weren’t fucking invincible. You bled and you felt pain like any human. 

It took you a good minute to understand what the actual fuck had just happened. And when you did, you almost forgot about the throbbing pain going through your body. You pushed yourself up to your feet, stumbling and holding on to walls as you dragged yourself through the rubble and burned bodies. Your jaw slightly fell open at the sight of this much mayhem. You didn’t believe in God, but fuck were you praying to a higher power for Ben to be okay. 

You managed to stay on your feet despite the pain. It would go away eventually, in a day or so, but the first few hours were brutal. Still you pushed through, determined to find Ben. You stumbled into a hallway, the walls were falling apart and chunks of cement were all around the floor. But what caught your attention was the sight that fucking American flag and blonde head of hair you had grown to despise. Your heart stopped, you were frozen. You held your breath as you realized fucking Homelander was here. And he currently had Ben pinned to a wall.

This was such a bad fucking idea. You could die a very agonizing death. A bad idea indeed. 

Adrenaline kicked in, you sprinted and with a bit of momentum you landed on Homelander’s shoulders. You were surprised he didn’t hear you coming.You were thankful he was preoccupied with Ben. Your nails dug into the side of his temples and you used all of the energy and power you had coursing through your veins, and sent that straight to his brain.

You weren’t sure if it would even tickle. You tried using your shock powers on Ben once, a long time ago, just to test out how it worked on Supes with enhanced strength, he said it felt like being electrocuted. And right about now you were praying Homelander felt something, enough to stun him at least. You could kill an average Supe if you used enough power, but you weren’t so sure if you were strong enough.

You held on, but you were struggling, commanding your body to release this much energy was mentally exhausting but the sound of Homelander groaning in pain made you smile the slightest bit. The shocks of electricity weren’t going to kill him, but it sure did hurt, and it stunned him. Nobody’s brain was invisible afterall. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it motherfucker? Your body may be indestructible but your mind can only take so much before it breaks.” You spat. Sparks were coming from your fingers as your eyes flashed bright purple. “It’s fucked when its you being held down against your will, huh?”

He screamed, stumbling around as he attempted to grab at you, but this wasn’t the first time you tried to fry someone’s brain off while on their shoulders. You gasped when you saw his laser eyes go off as he screamed, leaving indents on the wall. This split second of distraction was enough to make your focus falter, and it gave Homelander the opportunity to find a grip on you. You cried in pain when he grabbed your ankle and tossed you off. 

You landed fucking hard, it knocked the air right out of your lungs. You coughed as you attempted to get up, but Homelander was grabbing you and pulling you up by your neck before you could blink. He held you up in the air as he levitated so you couldn’t find a way to escape. He held you at arm’s length so you couldn’t reach him, either. The way his empty, ice cold eyes stared you down with evil glee as you gasped for air was terrifying. 

“I always knew you were a fucking bitch. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance. Matter of fact, I’ll do that right now.” Your eyes widened when his eyes gleamed bright red. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Ben behind Homelander, with a grin as he grabbed Homelander’s cape and pulled down, and he pulled really fucking hard. Your body collided with the ground roughly, landing on your side with a pained cry. But you still saw Ben throw Homelander around by his cape, and had you not been mere seconds away from death, you would have laughed at the comedic irony. You were in and out of consciousness, an aura surrounding your vision. But in between your delirium you could see Butcher and Hughie had arrived, and the three of them were taking on Homelander. It wasn’t long before the three of them had Homelander pinned down. You could feel yourself fade, your muscles give out and your mind shut off. You hadn’t used that much power since you were in Payback. 

You heard indistinct voices and shouting before everything went black. 

“The fuck are you waitin’ for? Blast this cunt!” Butcher shouted and Ben grunted.

“I can’t! Just—Fuck.” His eyes found you in the corner, bloodied and passed out. You couldn’t run away and you wouldn’t survive the blast, he knew that. “You—kid, take her, and get out here. Now!”

“No fucking way!” Hughie shouted back, and Ben felt the urge to blast him instead. 

“Do what he says, take the fuckin’ girl and go!” Butcher shouted at Hughie, catching on to what Ben was trying to do. But before any of them could do anything, Homelander blasted his lasers, screaming as he overpowered the three of them while they were distracted. And just like that he was gone. 

The three men sat in silence, in defeat. They had a chance and they blew it. Ben knew it was mostly his fault, he shouldn’t have hesitated. But he refused to ever let you get hurt. In silent anger he glared at both of them and he stood and walked over to your passed out body. He clenched his jaw as he picked your limp body and carried you. He made eye contact with Butcher and Hughie and it took all of his power not to shoot both of them in the face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your whole body ached, and your head was founding. It was unbearable. You winced in pain as you began to peel layers of clothes off your body. God it fucking hurt. You closed your eyes as you attempted to hold back tears, only snapping back into reality when you felt Ben trace his fingers over your back. He noted every bruise and every cut. He knew they would heal, sure but it still made him seethe with anger. 

“What the fuck were you thinkin’, taking on Homelander like that? Did all the fucking pills you take for your psychosis fry all of your neurons or what?” He was so angry, and he never was exactly kind with his words. You always knew that, but it still hurt when he talked to you that way, especially when you had only been trying to help him. 

Your back was turned to him, so he couldn't see the hurt frown on your face but he did notice you huff at him and move away from his touch, refusing to look at him. 

“Okay.. Hey, no. I didn’t.. I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck.” He bit his tongue, squeezing his eyes shut with regret of his choice of words. You kept your back to him as you continued to undress. He groaned. “You would have died. And it would have been on me. I couldn’t live with that, is all.” 

“Well, I was passed out so it would have been a quick death, if that's of any consolation to you.” You answered shortly as you stripped down to your underwear. You don't think he understood that you stopped caring whether you lived or died a long time ago. 

“Okay, could you not be a bitch for two seconds?” He sighed, already annoyed by your attitude. 

“No. If you want a girl who doesn't talk back to you, go find Countess. Oh, wait, you can't ‘cause she sold you to the Russians. Guess you're stuck with me.” You answered with even more spitefulness, just to tick him off a little bit more. You didn't need to read his mind to know he was beyond pissed. You weren't exactly in a colorful mood, either. Your back was still turned to him as you tossed your bloodied gear in a corner. 

He breathed in deeply, pitching the bridge of his nose, “Violet, look at me when I'm talking to you.” 

You turned around with exasperation, your eyes open wide with a ‘what’ expression as you motioned your hands around passive-aggressively. 

“I didn't mean what I said. I know you were trying to help me… And I know that you can't always control your powers. I sometimes can't deal with my own head, I can't imagine having to deal with everybody else's.” Ben wasn't one to apologize. He was actually allergic to the words I'm sorry. You knew that. But you knew he at least tried to apologize using other words. So you listened. You knew he was having a hard time, too. “But I'm not really one to talk. I think I'm the one that's fucked in the head.” 

Your lips slightly parted at his words and you looked at him with a tiny bit of sadness. You never asked him details of what happened to him. Sure, you could look, but you never wanted to dig through his mind without his permission. He'd tell you if he really wanted to. But you didn't need to know everything to understand that what he went through messed him up. And it messed him up a lot. What happened at Herogasm was proof of that. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened at Herogasm? Don't make me look through your head, I don't want to.” You sighed softly, ultimately giving in, like you always did. Your delicate fingers dragged over his vest as you absentmindedly began to take off his gear. 

Ben stayed silent for a long time. He didn't think he even knew what happened. You were down to the last layer of the top part of his suit by the time he opened his mouth. 

“I blacked out. I don't.. I don't know what the fuck happened. I was talking to the fuck twins and then nothing. Next thing I remember is the burned bodies and the place was all fucked up.” He breathed out a little unevenly, a frown knitted deep on his face. He looked down at you when you stayed silent. “I didn't mean to. You believe that, right?” 

You did. But did he? 

“Of course I believe you.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, hands flat on his chest. He brought one of his hands to the back of your hair, holding your head in place. After a few seconds, you hummed, parting your lips slightly. “Can I ask you a question?” 

He nodded. 

“Why didn't you kill Homelander? You had a shot. Why didn't you take it? You would have done the whole fucking world a favor.” 

Ben stared at you with confusion. Did you really not get it? Were you that clueless or was he just that bad at showing his devotion for you? Probably the latter. 

“You saw what my blast did to the house. You wouldn't have survived that. I should have, I know, Butcher won't stop fucking reminding me. But he has nothing left to lose. Can't kill two girlfriends in the same week, y'know?” 

Your mouth fell open with indignation and you shoved at his chest, but deep down you felt warm at the fact that he chose you over his mission, for once. You still pretended to be angry at him, though. “Fucking prick.” 

He brought his lips to your jaw, leaving blunt kisses and you pretend to hate it. But the smile on your face was inevitable. 

“Wanna shower now or what?” He eventually said. That was the reason you were in the bathroom after all. 

You nodded. You could use the hot water on your bruised skin. You finished stripping, Ben just watched you with a perverted grin and smacked your ass before he stripped himself. 

He got in first, turning on the water and letting it run until steam began to fill the small space. He knew you liked it boiling hot. He didn't mind. You got in and immediately went under the shower head. You moaned in relief, the hot water running down your tense muscles, alleviating the soreness on your body. Ben watched you with a surprising amount of patience as he stood behind you. He leaned down and pressed his soft lips behind your neck, licking along the skin before he moved down your neck to your shoulder. He rested his hands on your hips, squeezing the skin as lightly as he could. You had enough bruises for one day. 

“I'm gonna take care of you tonight, m’kay?” He mumbled against your skin before he made you turn around. 

He crashed his lips against yours, rough fingers gripping your jaw as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You whined, already craving more. When he kissed you like this, you just couldn't help yourself. 

“Need you, please.” You were breathless against his lips, your blunt nails digging into his chest desperately. He gave your bottom lip a small tug as he pulled away. 

He made you stand in front of him, his back to the shower wall as he slowly sank to his knees. Your eyes followed him longingly.

“C'mere.” He pulled you towards him, his eyes were full of greed as he made eye contact with you while he directed you to rest one of your feet on his shoulder. 

His eyes stayed locked with yours as leaned forward and licked a long stripe from your hole up to your clit. He wrapped his lips around the bud and sucked. You gasped, instantly pressing your hand against the damp wall to keep yourself up. Your mouth fell open in delight as he dragged his tongue around your sensitive clit. 

“O-Oh. Shit. Shit, Ben.” You whined softly, your free hand falling to his wet hair. He held your hip with one hand, steady vice grip holding you in place as he pushed his tongue into your hole. You swore the cry you let out was heard in the entire apartment. “Oh, my God. Fuck. That feels so good.” 

Ben hummed in approval as you wrapped your fingers around his hair and held his face against you. As if he would go anywhere. He happily kept his mouth on you, head moving up and down as he worked you with his tongue, his nose brushing your clit with every movement of his head. To say that you were so close was an understatement. You could feel your leg start to give out under you the longer you felt that heat build in your stomach. Ben was more than happy to assist you with that, too. His free hand grabbed the underside of your thigh and forced you further against his mouth until your leg was dangling over his shoulder. His other hand stayed on your hip, vice grip holding you upright effortlessly. 

His tongue found your clit one more time, and the emptiness it left was replaced by two long fingers pushing into your cunt. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open in a silent cry. You leaned your forehead against the tile as you dug your nails into his scalp. Fuck, you didn't remember the last time a man ate you out, let alone ate you out like this. It felt so good you wanted to cry, you didn't even remember the pain in your body, all you could feel was pleasure. 

“Feels good, doesn't it sweetheart?” He spat into your clit as he fucked you with his fingers. If the shower hadn't been running the lewd sound of his fingers dragging in and out of your wet hole would've been so loud. But he could still hear it, and fuck did he love it. He took a second to look up at you. Such a pretty little thing when you were so close. “Oh, you wanna come don't you? Mhmm, yeah, you do. C'mon, gimme what I want. I know you can do it.” 

His tongue was back on your clit, he licked harsh stripes as he slipped his thick fingers in and out of your cunt with urgency. The sounds of him licking and sucking on your clit were almost as filthy as the sounds coming out of your mouth. His fingers fucked you without mercy, there was not a single thing gentle about his touch. It was rough and relentless. Just like he was. And it had you seeing fucking white before you even realized. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, lips parting in a silent cry as you held his face against you. But it wasn't like he'd go anywhere, if anything he kept his tongue on your swollen clit and his fingers never stopped. Tears formed in your eyes as your thighs shuddered. And when he didn't stop you were pulling at the ends of his hair to pull him off you. He groaned at this. Quite unhappy to be leaving the warm place between your thighs. 

“I wasn't done.” He looked up at you with a frown. You took in a deep breath, blowing out a small laugh as you grabbed at his face, weakly attempting to pull him back up.

“You can be down there all you want later, I just..” You swallowed hard, somewhat regaining your composure as he stood up to his full height. You pulled him down by his face and kissed him, and you kissed him fucking hard. And the taste of yourself still left on his tongue made you need him even more. “Just need you, okay?” 

“Need me where?” He grabbed your jaw, fingers sprawled out over your throat as he held your face back. He stared you down, malicious eyes full of greed as he waited for your answer. And he wouldn't give you anything until you did.

“Inside me.” You muttered through gritted teeth, almost delirious as you rubbed your thighs together with anticipation. He didn't look satisfied. You breathed in deeply, the aching need between your legs unbearable. “Need your cock, inside me, right now, Ben.” 

He lifted his eyebrows up in satisfaction and gave you a simple hum before he switched positions with you, without a word pressing your front against the shower wall. 

“I fuck you once and you're already acting like a pathetic whore? Okay. But you better fucking take my cock like the good fuck doll you've always been, hm?” He kicked your legs apart with his knee, his back pressing you further into the wall as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance. You took a deep breath. “Yeah, you're gonna take this cock like a good lil’ fuck doll.” 

You gasped when he pushed himself inside with a snap of his hips, but it quickly turned into a moan when he pushed himself to the hilt, hips rutting against your ass. You dug your nails into nothing as you closed your eyes, taking in the delicious feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls.

“What a tight fucking cunt.” He grunted, gripping your hips, not wasting any time. He barely gave you time to adjust. “So fucking wet. Just for me, huh?” 

You were nodding against the wall instantly, pushing your ass back against him as he fucked you without mercy. You felt his lips on your shoulder as he leaned over you. The lewd sound of slapping skin was drowned out by the shower running but you could hear it clear as fucking day. 

“Yes! Mhmm feels so good.” You moaned softly, mindlessly reaching behind you to touch him, any part of him. Your fingers found his beard as you ran your hand over his face desperate to feel him, then you found his hair, and you latched on for dear life as he drilled into you. 

“Yeah? Like how my cock feels in your guts? You missed it, didn't you?” He pressed the side of his face into your head, allowing himself to close his eyes and soak the feeling of your nails on his scalp, he could even feel the faintest bit of electricity shooting through your fingers. He fucking loved it. 

“Yes! God yes.” You couldn't even describe how much. 

Ben smirked at this as he wrapped his arm over your chest and his fingers found your throat. He forced your head back, making you look at him. 

“Open your mouth,” He ordered, he held his finger to your pulse as he felt the fast rate of your heartbeat. You did as he said, and with a huff he spat in your mouth. “Slut. Swallow it.” 

How he could so easily break you down to nothing and treat you like no other man could, truly was beyond your understanding. But your mind didn't have to understand it. Your body just did it. You felt a pool of wetness seep through you at the damn near animalistic groan that rumbled in his throat. 

“You're such a good fucking girl.” He spat, pressing his lips against yours in a messy filthy kiss. You could barely keep your mouth open, not with the way he was so determined to make you fall apart for him. “You're my good fucking girl.” 

“I want to come. Please I—fuck.”  Your words were broken as your whole body burned up, and it wasn't from the hot water. 

“Of course, you do. It just feels so good, doesn't it?” He squeezed your throat harder, only choked out sounds could leave your mouth as he slipped his other hand to your swollen clit and rubbed harsh circles. 

Your orgasm hit you so hard you didn't realize it until you were shaking violently, your eyes rolled back into your head as you fucked yourself on his cock. Not that he ever stopped. He moaned loudly at the feeling of your wetness seeping on him. The wet sound of his cock slapping against your cunt made him want to come, too. 

“Fuck. Fucking Christ Violet. C'mon, make me come. Fuck yourself on my cock just like that. Be a good fuck doll for me, that's it.” His hand left your throat to pull at your hair. He dug his fingers deep into your scalp as his face fell on your shoulder. With a deep grunt he held you down on him. “Fucking take it, that's it, girl. Just like that. Fuck.” 

You could feel your mixed releases slip down your thigh. You sighed deeply, allowing yourself to close your eyes in ecstasy as he pressed his lips to your jaw. You hummed softly, reaching behind you to run your fingers through your hair. 

“I never want to leave this cunt. Feels so fucking good.” He muttered against your skin. 

You laughed softly, eyes still closed, you breathed heavily, “You're gonna have to eventually.” 

“Like fuck I am.” 

Both of his hands were on your hips and he turned you around. You whimpered softly at the emptiness he left you, but it was quickly replaced by choked out gasp when he grabbed both of your thighs and effortlessly hoisted you up around his waist. Your back was pressed against the tile wall and he slipped his cock inside you without a warning.

“Ben—” 

“You wanted my cock inside you? Well you better fucking take all of it. Every fucking inch ‘til I say so. You want it, don't you?” He spat, already fucking into you like you were nothing more than a toy. He held you up by your thighs as he kept them wide open so he could take as much as he wanted. And that he did. “Of course you do, this cunt is all mine to with as I fucking want. That ain't never gonna change.” 

What a long fucking night you were going to have. But you'd take a million of this over another day without him in your life. And this? This was all you ever wanted. You didn't need anything else, just him.

[davosmymaster]

No Time To Die

TAGS AND WARNINGS - +18, Minors DNI, no explicit smut but sexual themes, whump, a lot of angst, blood, graphic wounds and procedures (?) probably not medically accurate, could be almost gore if you squint, hurt/comfort, two dorks in love, canon-typical violence, near-death experiences. Not based on the game, I don’t know anything about the game and I don’t want spoilers please.

PAIRINGS - Joel Miller x fem!reader

WORD COUNT -  9.6k.

SUMMARY - The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.

A/N - I honestly don’t know what this is. I tried to look for angsty and whumpy fics and couldn’t find any that hit the spot just right; so I wrote my own. This story is set in some time between 2010 and 2020, or so. Bill and Frank are still very much alive. The only warning apart the amount of blood in this, it’s my own knowledge of the English language.

'Breathe'

 With a shiver, you try to comply with your own command. The action itself confuses you, and you don't know where exactly in your mind that thought came from; or why. All you know is that a moment ago you were nothing, absolutely nothing, not even human. You forgot your own existence in a still ocean made of black thick ink. The ink is now backtracking, though, but the remnants of it stay in your foggy mind, clouding it as your consciousness comes back in waves.

 Waking up from a dream is easy, you just come back into yourself from a nice trip to your own imagination. Regaining consciousness, however, is a little more difficult. Instead of going somewhere, you go inwards into yourself. Your overworked mind, already tired and busy with keeping you alive, doesn't care much about bringing you to any other place so you can die peacefully. No. And the awakening is not as it should be either.

Coming back into yourself is your body crawling its way to the land of the living, with your flesh drenched in tears, blood and sweat; and nails digging firmly into the dirt. At least that's how it feels as you go back and forth between the two worlds, rocked violently by the waves threatening to drown you in its heavy never-ending dream.

 You wake up tired, and cold. The first sense that returns is touch; and with it, a pulsing pain radiates from under the right side of your collarbone and all the way down to your chest and back. The —obvious— wound is warmer than the rest of your body. It's like you've grown a second heart right at the borders of the wound; it throbs relentlessly. The second is taste. Your mouth tastes like salt and melted butter; despite not having eaten either in at least three days. Around the dryness of your tongue you feel a sticky liquid swirling around in your mouth, plastered to your gums.

 Whatever it is, you cough it out of your mouth. The old blackened blood splatters on the wooden planks below your mouth. Then, a second later, you feel a sprawled hand on your back; and the rest of your consciousness returns with it.

 He calls your name. And he, whose presence you'd have recognized even blindfolded, even miles away from there, doesn't appear in your mind for a few seconds. But even half-conscious and at death's gates, his name leaves your mouth with a sigh of relief.

 Joel.

 "I'm here," he says, his palm now pressing a bit harder into your back, trying to comfort you somehow. If you had been fully aware, you'd have been embarrassed at the relieved groan that had escaped your lips while saying his name. "How are you feeling?"

 His voice sounds less muffled now, but the pulsing pain intensifies the closer you are to the surface. A second groan escapes your mouth as the warmth under your collarbone becomes impossible to ignore.

 "I know, I know" he says.

 Your eyes flutter open. From your point of view there's not much to see except torn wallpaper, your blood stains, and the shadow of a window. You're on the floor, your cheek pressed against the dusty carpet, your body very still laying on them, and Joel rubbing your back.

 The room is dark. His fingers enter your field of vision, they dip on the wet blood stains and turn around so Joel can see the sticky fluid staining his fingers. He takes a breath, a gasp, really.

 "Goddamnit," he mutters under his breath. His hand stops rubbing your back, and as black stains crawl from the corners of your vision, trying to take you under the waves again, he talks to you:

 "I need to turn you around..." he says with a gentle voice. It's like the icing on top of a sour and burnt cake; he's trying to sound caring, but that doesn't change the fact that it's going to hurt like a bitch. "You hear me?" he says, and his voice breaks for a second. Your ears ring, the next thing he says your brain doesn't process it, your vision has been clouded by darkness again...

 A scream tores your throat as a shooting pain lights your body on fire. It feels like lightning going through your backbone. Suddenly, the waves are very far away and you're feeling way too conscious for your liking. Despite your pain, Joel is still as careful as he can as he lays you on the floor, now facing the ceiling instead.

 The throbbing pain continues, and you blink to get rid of the tears that distort Joel's face. His hand wipes the tears from your face.

 "I know," he says. He has a crease between his seemingly angry eyebrows that you had never seen before.

 Both hands are roaming your ribs now, before you can even say anything. His warm hands give you shivers as he touches your naked skin. The pain is so unbearable that all you can do to mitigate it is hold your breath. If you could move, you'd be right now curled on the floor like a pretzel. You are not crying anymore, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't close.

 "Can you breathe?" he asks then, when he doesn't find any cracks in your ribs by touch alone. You don't respond because you can't find your own voice, and he sounds desperate at this point. "You coughed blood, I need to know if any of your lungs are collapsing."

 "It-it hurts..." you wheeze, your eyes tightly shut. For a split second, you wish you were back to being nothing. Being nothing sounds way better than having a gunshot wound in your chest. The bandages, tight over your bones and shoulder, don't mitigate the pain either. If anything, they worsen it. It feels like a tight sock over a painful pustule on your heel.

 Worst part is you know all this pain is for nothing; you know you won't make it. If you go back to the QZ, you will be executed. If not, there's nobody to help you except Joel. But even if there were doctors or hospitals, you highly doubted you could find the necessary tools to extract a bullet and stitch the wound. That is, if you manage not to die of blood loss.

 "Where?" Joel asks. Even beyond all this concern and well-hidden panic, he seems to cling to an ounce of hope. "Tell me where it hurts."

 Your fingers gently trace your skin until they reach the area under your collarbone, and you sign to your back too. There's a bandage there, but nothing else, and that's when you notice you don't have a shirt on, just your blood-soaked bra.

 "Is it bad?"

 "Not that bad. The bullet went through," he said. That explains the pain on both sides of your body; you have a literal hole in your chest. "And it clotted soon enough to stop the bleeding, but you lost too much blood anyway... Anywhere else?"

 Your whole body hurts and this abandoned house suddenly feels like penance, but you don't want to scare him further, so you shake your head no very slowly.

 "Alright," he mumbles. Joel nods once, and it looks like he is reassuring himself. His eyes betray him, he looks like he is very far away from here, very buried under all the scenes playing on his mind; but despite his stillness, his lower lip quivers.

 You can't move your right arm at all, but with the other hand, your fingers lightly touch his knuckles still resting on your stomach. He winces, and your fingers are wet with his blood too. He must have beaten to death whoever shot you, that you are certain about.

 Your voice, little more than a weak breath, whispers:

 "I-I want you to do it."

 The crease between his eyebrows deepens. He seems confused rather than angry; the reaction you were hoping for. You take a breath to repeat your own words, but he squeezes your hand.

 "Don't," he says.

 "Joel..."

 "Don't even think about it," he snarls. "You are perfectly fine, don't be dramatic."

 You don't know what hurts more; his pain or yours, but his denial makes your eyes wet with tears again. This is already hard, but he is making it even harder. All he will achieve by trying to keep you alive is either prolonging his pain or getting himself killed. You both know this is no world for the injured and the sick, not out of the QZ, at least. And in most cases, not inside either.

 All you ask of him is to not leave you for the infected to find. Is that too much to ask?

 You want to insist, but you know he won't have it. Joel has lost so much already that the thought of losing what little left he has is not even going to cross his mind. Not until it's too late, at least. Also, you don't want your last moments with him to be a fight. You are tired of fighting, of swimming against the current. You just want to let go for once, give in to the external forces, close your eyes and peacefully breathe.

 What's more, you should have already known that he wouldn't do you that favor. He is too selfish for that.

 He pats your cheeks gently with his large hands, and your eyes, already rolling back into your skull, get focused on him again with a few blinks. You breathe slowly, trying to focus on him, on the world around you slowly twisting and turning.

 "...that's it," he says, it doesn't sound like his first sentence, so you guess he's been talking to you before. When you look back at him, his breathing is shallow, and you know he is trying to take a hold of himself too, trying not to give in to panic. "Good girl, that's it. Keep your eyes on me."

 Exhausted and hurting as you are, keeping your eyes open it's like asking you not to drop a weight that you cannot, in fact, handle; but you try nonetheless. It's your fault, really, for letting yourself go, for trying to give up on your fight earlier than you should. Joel is here trying to keep you alive, mending all your broken ends and stitching them together —he has always been good at that— while you're just trying to give up on him ��you are really good at that too—.

 Giving up on Joel has been one of the hardest things you've ever had to do; and now you're letting him go for the last time. Part of you is glad you don't have to keep watching how he chooses Theresa over and over again. You are even relieved that fate —or whatever there is out there— is forcing you out of the equation. After all, you would never have given up fully on him.

 He refuses to kill you, what he doesn't know is that you've been dead for a long while now. Him being your executioner would be the kindest act he could have with you, the most intimate thing you'd ever share; your last moments. You want it to be him, you want him to free you from this torment.

 He refuses, though; and it feels like a punch to the pit of your stomach. You shiver.

 He gets up from his place on the floor, where you are lying just over the carpet. You follow him with your eyes and see a fire cracking up in a fucked-up chimney. He stokes the fire, throws some more wood on it and then comes back to you, covering you with his jacket, the very same jacket you had on before he turned you around. It's warm, his, and you have to stop yourself from sinking your nose into the collar.

 "I had to take off your shirt to patch you up," he says, but he doesn't say sorry. Ever. So you guess it's his way of apologizing.

 You simply nod, aware that you had wished for this very moment to happen many times before. You had dreamt of his rough hands over your naked flesh, caressing the sides of your body. You had dreamt of him watching you with those chocolate eyes as you took your shirt off, deep black pupils spreading over the brown as he watched the lace fall like a helpless witness.

 But now the bra was covered in blood and he was watching you anywhere but the lace. He had a frightened and concerned look on his face, rather than aroused. A look that would have made you feel guilty and ashamed if it had happened in the other scenario. And instead of undressing you, he was covering your body with his jacket as if you were his child.

 "What's wrong?" he is asking now, instead of whispering 'I want you' and it hurts all the same to know he's not ever going to say it, and that Tess now will have all those words for however long their lives are.

 You guess they were made for each other. And it makes all the sense, really, no one like Joel would ever look at you twice. You were grateful that he even allowed you to be his friend.

 "Nothing," you respond.

 It's always 'nothing' when it comes to Joel. It's always that nothing whenever he notices you are under the weather. It's always nothing when you are hurt, when someone tries to rob you and they leave an angry black eye on your face. It's always nothing; and he never believes you.

 "I don't make promises, you know that," he says, taking your left hand in his. "but you will be fine, I swear."

 You don't know what to say, how to explain that you are not scared of death, that you are just scared of not seeing him again. But you can't, so you say nothing and just nod.

 Does he want to hurt himself? Okay. You can't do much while lying on the floor anyway.

 After that, both of you stay silent. Joel seems to be avoiding looking at you. His eyes are stuck in the fire creaking in the chimney, but they are too restless to be present and conscious of the yellow and orange haze.

 Your palm lands on his thigh, your fingers gently brushing the denim. You want to comfort him somehow, but, at the same time, you are scared he will reject your touch and reassurance. That's all you can do for him: no words, no further touching, just a featherlight touch that indicates you are still present. There, with him.

 "I thought we couldn't make a fire."

 "Don't be dumb. The windows are all broken, it's winter and you are in shock. How else would you heat up?"

 "Got it. You're not in a talking mood," you huff. "Alright."

 Silence settles between both of you. However, one of his big, rough hands travels to where your fingertips are gently brushing his thigh. At the touch, even if you don't want to let go, your fingers begin to back off. He's not in a good mood, and you seem to be pushing his boundaries a little too much. Except that, instead of letting you go, he catches your hand in his and puts it back over his jean. This time, it's him who brushes his thumb over your knuckles.

 For a minute, the only sound in the living room are both your breathing patterns, the flames licking the air and the wind rushing through the broken windows.

 "I'm sorry..." you start. And immediately, his brown eyes are all over you again. Your voice sounds exhausted, more than you'd have liked. "...I fucked up the mission. I know-"

 "You haven't fucked up anything," he interrupts. That's Joel, all stoic, swallowing his feelings and denying everything that it is not up to his standards. "Would you mind to just rest-"

 Your eyes well with tears.

 "Joel, for once... Just for once, don't lecture me, don't ignore what I'm trying to say just because you don't want to hear it," you tell him. Then, he thankfully presses his lips together in a pained grimace, but stays silent nonetheless. "I fucked up the mission getting injured. I know it isn't my fault, but it doesn't matter whose fault it is. If you wanna go on without me, I won't blame you."

 His fingers are now squeezing yours, but you know he is not even conscious of that. He leans in a little, his cheeks now reddened in anger. He looks like he is about to spit on your face.

 "I'm not leaving you anywhere," he says. He looks offended that you even thought he was capable of that. "You and I are gonna get to Lincoln, either if you like it or not. There, Bill and Frank will help you. We have traded all kinds of things with them, and I know they are very well supplied."

 "Why would they help me?"

 "They are not just people we trade with," he says. His fingertips brush a strand of hair out of your face. "I know they will."

 "What if they changed their minds?"

 His pupils lock into your own, his jawline swells as he grits his teeth.

 "I'm persistent."

 The mission was supposed to be an easy one. Walk out of the QZ undetected, walk fifteen miles to the town of Lincoln, just outside Boston, get our things and come back. Our cargo were the two last spools of aluminum that Joel had promised to trade with them and two packets of seeds. Theirs? Two pounds of rolling tobacco and a gun. Tess couldn't make it, she had appointments with other smugglers, probably the ones who snuck the drugs in; which was more than half of their business. If it wasn't that important, she wouldn't have stayed in the QZ for anything in the world. But Bill and Frank were also important, and Joel couldn't go alone.

 The two of you should be home by now, and you wondered if Tess was regretting her decision of asking you to go with him. Last night you had both snuck out of the Boston QZ; and it usually didn't take more than six hours to get to Lincoln. But just outside the city you had bumped into raiders; and a stray bullet had hit you. Now you were stranded in a small cabin lost in the woods, about seven miles away from Lincoln; and unable to walk a single step.

 And to top it all off, Joel was enraged and neurotic.

 Still with the same expression, he takes your wrist and squeezes two fingers into it. Even if you had preferred him not to, knowing that your heartbeat got wild whenever he was around. You let him check on you, hoping that if your symptoms got better he would let you have a quick nap. Your nervousness, however, doesn't improve despite your efforts of trying to calm yourself down.

 "Since when are you a doctor?"

 He lets your wrist go, then gets back on his feet and gets his rifle.

 "You should rest. You'lll need it," he says, now heading to the entrance. He's gonna be standing on guard all night, you are sure of that. "We're leaving tomorrow morning."

 That is when you lose it. You can't believe he is that blind, that caught up in his own world.

 "I know in your perfect fantasy this is just a scratch, but I truly can't move, Joel. Even laying here awake is hard. How am I supposed to follow...? Joel!"

 But he's out of the house before you even finish the sentence.

  [***]

  Joel doesn't keep his word.

 A few hours later, not even near dawn yet, you get pulled back from a dream. Your eyes take a few minutes to register your surroundings; again. And the memories gallop back to your mind in a rush; accompanied by the burning and piercing pain on the upper right side of your chest. Your eyes shut tight, and you inhale a shallow breath. Even breathing hurts.

 "We need to go," Joel whispers. His voice sounds muffled, especially over the sound of your beating heart. "C'mon, wake up."

 He is once again rocking you rather than shaking you awake. Just to be able to fall asleep you had rolled back into your chest, cheek once again firmly pressed against that twenty-year-old dusty carpet. When he came back from checking the perimeter, not even five minutes after your argument, he placed his backpack right under your stomach so your right side was elevated. You wouldn't have been able to fall asleep if it wasn't for that. The pain was maddening, atrociously painful. Joel had found you gritting your teeth even in your sleep.

 He had said you'd leave the next day, but you felt like not even minutes had passed.

 "Morning," you complained, half a grunt accompanying your words. Joel shook you gently again when he saw you relax a second time, and your voice came back. "Y-you said...mor-"

 "I know what I said but we can't wait any longer," he answered. "I'm gonna sit you up."

 Fear pumped enough adrenaline into your system to wake you up. The ache from before rushed back into your mind, and your 'please' and 'wait' left your mouth like a prayer.

 "I can do it," you said, but it sounded more like begging than an affirmation.

 "I know you can," he lied. As your eyes opened and you saw his expression —eyes focused on you, trembling hands, half of his face hidden in the shadows, the other half gently licked by the orange-like haze of the dying fire— you understood that you had to be in a really bad condition for him to look at you that way, and feel the need to lie to make you feel better. But then, a second right after that, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes fluttered between your face and the surface of his jacket over your shoulders. His stoic mask was back on. "I'm just gonna help you, okay? But you do it."

 He did not, in fact, let you do it.

 You had managed to lift yourself barely an inch over the carpet, using all the strength left in your healthy arm, when both his hands curled around your side and pulled you up to his chest. Clenching your jaw, you allowed him to drag you a few feet back and into a seating position against the wall; your whole weight over the left side of your body.

 "Don't lean on the other side, your shoulder blade is broken."

 "Oh..." you almost chuckled. "Great."

 For a second, Joel looks at you as if you were completely insane. He reaches for his backpack, crouching on the place where you were lying just seconds prior. Then takes his flask and doubts when passing it on.

 "I'm not that desperate for water," you respond, reaching for the flask and drinking a gulp of the liquid. You swallow despite the soreness in your throat. "Next thing you'll do is spit food into my mouth."

 "Not even getting shot shuts your fucking mouth, does it?" he says, grossed out at your comment. However, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Relaxing him has a calming effect on you too.

 You try to pass him the flask again, but he refuses.

 "No," he says. "Drink it all. You'll need it."

 You look at him with narrowed eyes, confused. It's hard to keep a single thought in your head other than the throbbing pain in your chest and back, but you still try. Rather than asking him how you are supposed to walk seven miles, with the aluminum and his pack, you try to approach the matter another way.

 "What's the plan?"

 He takes a deep breath.

 "You're not gonna like it," he says, his deep voice almost slurring the words. It's barely a whisper. He looks into your eyes, then. "I'm gonna carry you."

 "What?"

 "You heard me."

 There's not an ounce of doubt in his eyes. Joel has that look of determination, the one you only really see when he has his eyes set on something really fucking important for him; most times that includes his own brother or not talking about the times before the outbreak. And with that look on his face, you know there's nothing you could possibly say or do to make him reconsider his own words. He's stubborn like that.

 You still try.

 "It's seven miles, Joel..." you tell him on a thready voice, a whisper. And Joel sighs through his nose —as if he had forgotten. "And we have to carry..."

 "We leave everything here," he says. "Come back for it later."

 "They won't let us in empty-handed."

 "You don't know them."

 For Joel to be so certain about it, certain enough as to put both your life and his on the hands of strangers; you understand that their relationship goes beyond trading. Joel had told you about them, about their situation and the first time Tess and him had shared dinner with Bill and Frank. Still, you were suspicious of them, and you thought that he was too; up until now, at least.

 "It's still seven miles," you tell him, and you know him, you know he's about to stop talking to you and leave the room if you don't, at least, partly give in to his reasoning. "...are you sure you wanna do it?"

 His pleading brown eyes engulf you, then, with an emotion he had never showed before. His gaze diverts for a second to your wound, to the bandages that, as you look at them, you find they are once again covered in blood. They are soaked in it, the skin surrounding it has a large black bruise —internal bleeding, you guess. And when you try to take a full deep breath, you find yourself unable to, at least not at full capacity.

 The understanding hits you, then. You don't have much time left.

 "I don't have any other choice," Joel says, but what he means is 'I don't want to lose you'.

 "Okay."

 Not even a full second has passed from your reluctant acceptance, but he is already on his feet. Joel walks to the only table in the room, takes your gun and puts it in his hip, right inside the jean. The only other thing he takes apart from ammo is another set of bandages —and he silently thanks whatever it is out there that he put those there a month ago—. He doesn't have anything to clean the wound, though; and one of his biggest fears is that it might already be infected. Even bandaged it looks bad.

 He approaches you, crouches down so he is facing the wound.

 "I'm going to tighten the bandage, and I have to keep the pressure," he says, loosening the knot. His fingers are once again stained with you blood, and he has to fight the images of him pressing on your wound from a few hours ago, when he had found you and, with trembling hands, had tried to stop the bleeding coming out in waves. He looks at you, trying to forget the awful picture of your eyes closed, your body limp on the ground. "Bite something."

 You reach for the sleeve of his jacket, the one hanging from your shoulders; and put the padded cuff of his jacket into your mouth.

 Joel doesn't give you a warning; and you're not sure if that's a good or bad thing, either. He presses the heel of his hand right over the covered hole in your chest, with such strength that you wonder if he will end up breaking your clavicle in half. As he presses your body against the wall, you can almost feel the cracked bones in your back smashing against each other.

 Needless to say, the pain is blinding. The view of the room, the feeling of his heat around you, the scent of him under your nose... all gone in a matter of seconds. Your vision turns white, all your senses stop functioning. Over the scream that falls from your lips, muffled by the jacket, you hear him say:

 "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

 He lets go, and your vision immediately darkens, the shadows flowing from the corners of the room quick to reach you. With your last grip on reality you feel yourself melting against the wall, slowly slipping to the side. Joel catches you before you hit the floor.

 Cold water is what brings you back. Your breathing quickens at the coldness of it, and the next thing you feel are his wet hands palming your cheeks, throwing water from his flask all over your face.

 "C'mon," he mumbles. "I need you awake."

 Your eyes flutter open, your whole body relaxed now that he's not applying pressure; but alert enough that your unfocused eyes make a single shape out of him.

 While coming back into yourself, Joel does not have any time to lose. He takes his jacket over your shoulders and slips your left arm inside the sleeve, the other, where the wound is, he decides to leave it as it is; and buttons it over your chest so you're not exposed.

 "You good?"

 In any other situation you'd have said some joke, or just something to piss him off. But as of right now, nothing comes to your clouded mind; and even if something did come, you're too exhausted to even do the mental effort to say it. So you just nod.

 "Okay," he nods too, talking to himself inside his head, then takes your face in his hands and looks into your eyes. "You're fine, you hear me? I'm gonna carry you and you're gonna be on my back; so I need you talking all the damn time, alright?

 You nod again.

 "Starting now."

 "Y-yes... okay."

 "Good," he says. His hand crawls to the back of your neck, and he joins both your foreheads. He takes quick breaths. He's terrified when he whispers. "You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you."

 "Y-you... are?"

 "Mm-hmm," he says. And as his words settle into your brain, you feel your chest warm. When you open your eyes and he separates, there's a tear on his cheek, but he's quick to wipe it off. "I'm gonna open the front door."

 It's just an excuse, you both know it, but neither dares to say anything. None of you wants to talk about the elephant in the room, the fact that your chances are slim even if this works.

 Joel returns quickly, with his lashes wet and reddened eyes. It makes you speechless, to know that all this effort and tears are for you. You'd have never, in a million years, thought you'd ever see Joel Miller cry; let alone for you. He had always been so quiet, so detached from everyone, even from Tess.

 Without a word, his hands get hooked on the underside of your thighs. He lifts you up, seemingly effortlessly, and your inner thighs surround his hips. You take a deep breath, again —or at least try to— as you try not to blush and show those feelings you buried long ago. This is not the time, nor the place; so you allow your head to follow his range of motion; forwards. Soon, your nose is pressed against the lapels of his denim shirt. With your good arm, you grab one of his broad shoulders. The other falls limp, and even that little movement hurts like hell.

 He freezes, his shoulders now stiff under your hand. His beard grazes your jaw as he tries to look at you, so still in his arms.

 "You okay?"

 "Yeah..."

 Better than okay, you want to respond. Better than I've been in a long time. But you don't.

 He leaves you on the table, on the edge, with your legs dangling.  His eyes waver for a second as he leaves you there, his hands squeeze your knees in such a brief movement that you wonder if he was even conscious of that. He looks like he wants to say something, but he can't think of what, so he turns around and bends his knees a little to get you to a good height.

 "I need you to push yourself up with your good arm," he instructs. "and keep the other still, okay?"

 "Okay," you respond, fighting the urge to just nod instead.

 Not even following his instructions to a t saves you from the pain. The effort, even with your arm limp in the air, makes your body shudder and an agonizing stab runs through your whole spine. The scream that tores from the depths of your throat is so intense that Joel hesitates to put you back on the table, his back trembles for a second as his body shivers in distress. But, in the end, he has you in the air with a good hold.

 He waits, but doesn't hear anything except shallow breaths, doesn't feel anything but the weight of your head over his shoulder.

 "You with me?" he asks. He is seconds away from aborting the mission.

 "Y-yeah..."

 Your arm surrounds his neck loosely. Your fist is closed tightly, grabbing the other shoulder, and he wishes he could touch you, give you some kind of comfort, but he can't let go from his grip under your knees.

 Joel does not have the privilege of time, every second is precious, so not even giving it a try, he starts walking as if you weighted nothing. He crosses the front door and the freezing cold wind of the East Coast cuts your cheeks. If he notices —and you know that he has, wearing just his shirt in the middle of the night— he doesn't react.

 "Remember what I told you?" he asks.

 In less than a minute he has crossed the space from the cabin to the highway, where you were surprised by raiders. You look around, see the bodies of five men sprawled on the floor; lifeless, drowning in a pool of their own blood. One of them has his face mauled to nothing. The sight is so sickening —or maybe you are getting so ill— that a sudden dizziness takes hold of your shivering body.

 "Hey..."

 "I'm sorry..." you start, teeth chattering from the cold. "I'm sorry I screamed into your ear earlier."

 A sound, half a relieved sigh and half a chuckle, leaves his mouth.

 "I'm half deaf from that ear anyway."

 A light chuckle falls from your lips too. Joel keeps walking west through the highway, and you keep yourself desperately clinging to him for dear life. The moon is your only other companion; without her, you both would be completely blind in the darkness of the night.

  [***]

  Joel probably hadn't thought about the possibility of taking breaks along the way. That's why, fourty-five minutes later, and under a beautiful sunrise of orange tones, he's struggling to keep going. His knees are screaming for him to stop, his biceps and hands tired of walking with a person's weight over his shoulders. And for the first time in years he remembers the times before the outbreak, when he was capable of lifting and moving huge pieces of furniture; often times on his own, other times with just Tommy.

 He might have overestimated his own strength, assuming he was as strong as before. But it seems that not only his mental health has deteriorated after Sarah's death, no. All of him has become older and darker and more broken since then. He hardly recognizes himself in the mirror anymore.

 "Joel?"

 "Yeah..." he gasps, out of air. "Sorry, I got distracted. You were saying...?"

 It is in moments like this that he hates not to be that same person he was before. He wonders if he is, finally, paying for his past sins, for all the people, infected or not, that he has killed.

It is unfair, the fact that you're paying for his piper.

 "You should stop for a while," you tell him, your voice low like a whisper. The warm air from your mouth slithers across his skin, up his neck, over his ear, and almost sends a shiver down his spine.

 "No."

 "Joel..." you huff. Before speaking again, you take a big gulp of air. "We are not getting anywhere if you don't take breaks. You'll just wear yourself off before we reach the halfway mark."

 His mind refuses to agree, but it's as if his body takes a relieved breath when he hears the words. Little by little, his body starts to listen to you before his mind does. His thighs are screaming, sore from the pain of exertion; and before he acknowledges, even, his body has stopped moving.

 "Okay," he gasps, quick tired breaths quickly entering and leaving his lungs. "...but just a minute, we don't have time for this bullshit."

 "Okay," you say, in the same tone he used earlier with you; when he lied and said he knew you could sit up on your own. "Just a minute."

 He pulls to the side of the road, and with the last of his strength he kneels down and tries to lay you on the ground as carefully as possible. You fall on your ass on the wet ground, but at least you don't hurt yourself on the spot. He asks you for the millionth time in the last twenty-four hours if you are okay.

 "I think I'm doing better than you," you respond, but your voice is so exhausted that Joel would love to just lay next to you and lull you to sleep.

 He turns around, his whole weight sitting on the grass as he takes gulps of oxygen. His eyes shut tightly, he wipes off a tear of sweat from his temple and looks at you.

 Wide-open eyes stare back at you, but just for a split second. He gets closer, his thumb brushing the shoulder of the brown jacket, his brown jacket. His eyes pierce yours.

 "Are you sure?"

 "That bad do I look?"

 Joel doesn't look at you, not at your face getting paler by the second or the dark circles under your eyes, or your hair now dishevelled. He sees you on his memories and can barely recognize you; your skin and eyes always glowing under the sun, your hair always perfectly done. Your job was often to act as an HR for their clients, and very rarely took actual FEDRA jobs that stained your hands; you weren't like Joel, you didn't care about rations or money or whatever.

 Expert fingers gently tug at the buttons, unbuttoning them so he could take a look to the wound. He had barely a glimpse of it when your fingers stopped his hands. Joel looks at you with those puppy eyes, as if you were about to faint in the next second.

 "If you wanted to see me naked you didn't have to wait until I got shot, you know?"

 You had said it in a playful manner, kidding, as a joke; but he saw beyond that. Part of you had only expected him to laugh, the other was dying —not pun intended— for him to kiss you. You'd have never said it if you weren't in this position, you'd have never gotten in between Joel and Tess.

 However, he didn't laugh, didn't make any funny remark. The way he looked at you, from under his eyebrows, lit a spark of hope somewhere inside you. Deep, deeper than your conscious mind would have ever reached. Joel didn't say anything, not even chuckled. His eyes came back to the wound, and uncovered the full sight of it.

 He had to fight a shocked gasp. His eyes fluttered, while holding his breath, between your own face and the wound. The bandage was still soaked in blood, that he had expected, but not the large bruise growing into your neck; or your right hand slightly paler than the other. He lifted, with trembling fingers, a corner of the bandage, and his action caused a trickle of dark blood to gush out, as if he had crushed a piece of watermelon between his fingers and it was now running down his arm. He looked below, inside his jacket, and saw a trail of blood that landed right into your navel.

 This time, it was impossible for him not to react. Not only his face, but also his body. He tried to get back on his two feet again, but before he finished the action, your fist closed around his wrist.

 "Joel..." he heard you call.

 "We need to go, now."

 Pressing your lips in a sad smile, you pulled him to the ground and he sat, mesmerised on that face he had only yet seen once; that time when he got too drunk on a Friday night and told you about Sarah at three in the morning. He felt his pulse quicken, his heart beating at the ends of his fingertips.

 "It's okay," you told him. Your gentle touch brushed his palm, danced around over his tan skin. "You can rest."

 Joel felt like he was in a fever dream. The setting certainly felt like it. You hadn't left the Boston QZ in a long while, and he had never pictured you out of those big silver walls either. He had not agreed to Tess' idea either, the dangers beyond the walls were almost impossible to escape. Still, Tess and him knew the city, they could get out fairly easily, had done that for a couple years to share stories over dinner with Bill and Frank. And Joel had loved the idea of seeing you sitting at that dinner table next to him, surrounded by a garden full of flowers, going through the dresses in the boutique that Tess had sworn you'd love.

 He had not signed up for this.

 "We need to go, please..." he tried a second time, but you just shook your head. He understood, somehow, what you meant.

 "A minute won't make a difference," you told him. In reality, you wanted to tell him that you'd be dead when he got the both of you to Lincoln, anyway. "If you are tired we will never get there."

 Useless and powerless as he felt, his only option was waiting. He took your hand, intertwined his fingers with yours and took a deep breath. You had never seen him so upset.

 "What are you so scared of?"

 At your words, his lower lip quivered slightly; it would almost have gone unnoticed if it wasn't because you had been watching him attentively for so many years. He looked at you, eyes barely half open, from under his eyelashes.

 "You're very important to me," he said. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, he seemed to be even more breathless than he was before. Joel had a hard time admitting his feelings, even to himself. "I don't know if you understand to what extent you're important to me."

 "I know..." you answered, nodding, your hand squeezed his for a second, trying to give him strength. "But you have Tess home, and your brother loves you... It will hurt for a while..."

 "Shut. Up."

 His eyes were tightly shut when he said it. It was a metaphor, almost, the way his eyes were closed not just to the physical world, but to the whole situation too that he couldn't escape from.

 The tip of your tongue wetted your lips.

 "What I'm trying to say is... it will pass..."

 His chest heaved, his gaps the only sound that filled the space between the two of you. And you continued:

 "People die all the time, Joel; and most times we can't do anything about it."

 His body rushed at you, his hands locked perfectly on both your cheeks, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finally in place.

 "Not you, you hear me? Not you," he almost growled, his face a mixture of anger, determination, and grief. "Never you. You're not allowed to leave me. I will never forgive you."

 There was something hidden between the lines, something Joel wasn't saying. It was something you had denied yourself for a long time, for years, something you had insisted on not seeing because you didn't want to see it. Because, deep down, you were afraid that Joel would never love you back, that he would break your heart, that the only good man you'd ever known inside the walls of the Boston QZ would also be the one to abandon you to your luck.

 Joel had been your family for so long, and you had unconsciously protected yourself from seeing him as something else. But now there it was, clearly, latent in his confession. Your punishment for years of silence was now time, or rather, the lack of it.

 "I'm not giving up," he said. "and I need you not to give up either."

 He's close. His hot breath smells sweet -so instinctively Joel- and it's all around your face. His flesh is warm over the freezing skin of your cheeks. His body around you is shelter, is home.

 Joel is soon leaning in. He's all erratic breathing, rapid heartbeat and trembling hands; and as you close your eyes to allow his presence to swallow you like a black hole, he closes his eyes too.

 He doesn't let go, not just yet. He breathes in into your quick breaths the same way you revel in his.

 "I need an answer," he whispers over your mouth.

 "I won't, either."

 At first it's like a collision. He kisses you angrily for a split second, demanding and impatient; then, once he knows this is really happening, once he does understand that this is —finally— not a dream, he relaxes into your touch, your fingers delineating his jawline, caressing the beard there.

 He's quick, quicker than you'd have expected him to be; definitely quicker then he would have liked. He separates, then; and looks down at his jacket and the drops of blood staining the insides of it. It's not enough blood to send you into shock again, but it means part of the wound is ripping. You need stitches, not just a couple of bandages.

 "Enough resting then," he says.

   [***]

 Seven miles is usually nothing for Joel. In the first few months trading with Bill and Frank, Tess and him usually walked the fifteen miles that separated the city and the town at least twice a month. But this is all the more difficult, not just carrying you there, but knowing that he is running out of time.

 And you seem hellbent on making the journey even more difficult.

 "So...Tess?"

 "Pass."

 You huff, and the warm air sends a shiver down his spine; but he says nothing.

 "Okay."

 Your voice sounds so disappointed that he feels a pang of guilt. You know him better than to insist, and he knows that too. The guilt increases, though; and now he's inhaling a big gulp of air while still walking as fast as he possibly can without hurting his own knees.

 "We fucked a few times, before," he says. "but that doesn't mean anything. She's my colleague. That's all."

 If he was better with words, and feelings, he could say that he didn't feel anything for her. He could say that their hookups were nothing, just a fun thing they used to do before, before he realized that the one who he really wanted was you. A few months back he had realized that it never actually satisfied him, that those moments with Tess weren't as fun and innocent as they seemed to be before. They had talked about it, of course. He didn't want to play with her feelings, and that had been the end of it. She was just as fine without him, anyway.

 "I thought you two were dating."

 "If selling drugs for a living is what you call dating, then yes."

 Without even looking at you, he knew you were smiling, he could almost feel your lips stretching over his shirt.

 "I..." you said, then he heard you take another deep breath before talking again. "I'm sorry I asked you," another breath. "I... ran out of things to say."

 His brow furrowed in confusion.

 "You can say anything," he says. "Anything you really like, even a story."

 Anything just to know you're there...

 "Well..." you started. Then, a wheezing noise filled the air, followed by a gasp. "I... liked rock music-" silence. "...back in the day."

 "You okay?"

 Your fist tightened around his shoulder, your forehead pressing against his trapezius. He heard that wheezing sound again, followed by a pant. His hands squeezed harder the tender flesh under her knees.

 Joel tried to look at her, but all he could see from his peripheral vision was the top of her head and one eye tightly closed. His throat turned into knots.

 "Baby..." that was the most gentle tone you had ever heard coming from his mouth. "C'mon baby. Hold on, we're almost there."

 His whole body felt paralyzed, and he had to force himself to keep walking.

 What he didn't know was that your lungs were burning. They felt like a pair of balloons squeezing against your ribs, trying to expand beyond its cage. And it made all the pain in your back, from the shot, double as painful. The air you tried to swallow so bad, sounded like a whistle, like the breeze through an almost closed window. You were suffocating.

 "Talk to me, c'mon."

 With a painful drag of air, you complied.

 "I can't..." your fist tightened around the fabric of his shirt. "I can't."

 "Goddamnit..." he was panicking now. "Okay, that's okay baby. Just hold on to me, don't let go."

 Unable to do anything else, you just nodded as best you could and kept on holding on to him. His eyes desperately looked for signs of the town, and far away, in the distance, the row of trees ended; and he walked faster, hoping that Bill had already seen the both of you through the cameras.

 "J-Joel"

 You struggled to find air, and, therefore, the words.

 "Easy, easy" he said. "Just a bit more. You can do it, I know you can."

 His words lingered in the air, unanswered, not even him fully believed them. Joel was starting to feel his own shirt wet with blood from your wound. The feeling made him sick, his own imagination as he pictured what Bill was watching through the cameras, made it all a hundred times worse.

 He kept hearing the panting, the wheezing, becoming more desperate by the second. He realized, with horror, that you were suffocating righ there, on his back; from a collapsing lung, he guessed.

 He shouted Bill's name as he saw the fence that separated them from the town. Joel wasn't sure if he could hear him, but tried anyway.

 He felt your grip on his shirt hesitate, and he had to fight the instinct to squeeze your hand; if he had done it, you'd have fallen from his own grip. He heard you try and say his name.

 "Save it," he responded, even if it came out not as reassuring as he would have liked. "Don't try to talk."

 Before he reached the fence, it was already opening. Bill came out running, yelling something that he was too distracted to distinguish, Frank came behind him. Joel felt his knees wobble once through the gate. And now kneeling on the floor, he called your name, tried to turn his head to take a glimpse of you.

 "You did it. We're here."

 He noticed, then, that everything seemed all too silent. Everything that happened after that, happened very quickly. The hand that had been gripping his shirt slipped, limp over his shoulder.

 His mind disconnected, completely unaware of the other two people approaching. He released you with all the care that a person could have had, and his arms immediately caught you in an embrace. The sight of your closed eyes made him panic, and not having even checked your pulse, he buried his face into your neck and sobbed.

 Trails of blood ran through his forearms, and he threw up all the words that passed through his mind; a string of 'please stay' and 'I'm sorry'.

 "Joel," Frank struggled with him, fingers digging into his shoulder. "Joel you have to let go. Let us help her."

 He was too far gone, so much so that once your body hit the floor, Frank didn't allow him to touch you again. He sobbed, and, for a second, Bill saw himself in him. He would have never thought he would see Joel in this state, but yet there he was. He kept pressure on the wound, and saw himself in Joel, and Frank in you; and promised he would never let this happen to the two of them.

 Never.

  [***]

  The sun comes out the next morning. As it always does, as it always has. Orange light and blue skies illuminate the room, the clouds shine a different color; and Joel blinks; absolutely exhausted, devastated.

 His body is heavy, even if he's not holding any of his weight. He's sitting on the cold tiles, on the floor, his sore knees and thighs in the space under the bed, his head lying on the mattress, his whole body is bent over and it feels like jelly. His eyes are the only thing moving, they look at the window and see the night sky turn into daylight.

 Joel couldn't possibly say that he slept in that position; because he didn't actually sleep. He hasn't had a second of sleep since you got shot two days ago. Lying on the bed, is you, dormant; and his thumb draws circles on the back of you hand even if he's not paying attention to it. It comforts him to a degree, at least.

 Suddenly, pretty much everything has lost its meaning. Frank opens the door an hour later, almost tripping with the tray of food and water that he left the night before for Joel. He hasn't touched any of it. In fact, he forgot about it, but if it bothers him, Frank doesn't say anything. He takes it in his hands so he can take it to the kitchen downstairs.

 "We played 'I will survive' in the radio" he whispers before leaving. "It's a 70s song, but Tess will get the meaning."

 "Thank you," he mutters, his mouth pasty from barely speaking in the last twenty-four hours. Funnily enough, the only word he's said to them is 'thank you'.

 "You're welcome, Joel," he says. After a few seconds, waiting, he makes a dissatisfied sound. Frank approaches Joel, his palm squeezing his shoulder. "You should eat something, at least. Is there anything you want?"

 Joel looks at him, lifting his cheek from the mattress for the first time. His eyes are blood-shot and black circles adorn his eyes.

 "Coffee."

 "Not coffee, you need sleep."

 He huffs, his eyes lost in the window again. Frank, knowing he won't get anything from him again, vanishes behind the door and into the kitchen. He will bring him warm food later, hoping the smell will make him eat something despite his unwillingness to listen to any signal of hunger from his own body.

 A few moments later, your hand slips from his. As he loses your touch, a pang hits the pit of his stomach. But then, as he lifts from the mattress again, your fingertips lightly touch his chin, your thumb lovingly brushing his beard.

 "Baby?"

 Maybe he lost his sense of time, because he didn't expect you to wake up yet. In any case, when he sees your eyes open he practically pounces on the bed. He sits on the edge, and swallows the image of you looking at him.

 "Morning."

 He smiles at your words, feels his strength coming back into his body.

 "You're here," he says.

 Even beaten up as you look, he thinks you are gorgeous. Your face has regained its usual color, the bruising is coming down, changing colors little by little, the wound is stitched and bandaged, and the blood flow seems to reach your fingertips normally once again. Joel has no idea how Bill fixed the collapsing lung, he had said something about medical knowledge being necessary in the field too, but he hadn't paid attention. He doesn't care about the details, though. He just cares that you're safe and sound, and despite the close call, that has seemed to be the end result to this whole dilemma.

 There's no blood in sight, not even in the bandages. Frank had washed the blood from your hair the day before, and Joel had helped with the rest. He wished he could have you like this everyday: happy, clean, safe...

 In the last few hours Joel had discovered he was jealous. He wished he had a town like Lincoln all to himself, just so he could see you picking flowers in the front garden.

 "I'm here," you told him. The words felt like strawberries in his mouth. "and I'm not giving up on you."

 He released a breath he didn't know he was holding, leaned in for both your foreheads to meet, and kissed you.

[junesilk]

hiii just saw you were a new account and decided to drop by 🙉 loving the account btww

as for a suggestion, how about some kurapika dating head canons? thank you🫶

DATING HEADCANONS

aka: how the hxh main 4 act in a relationship!

characters: kurapika, leorio, killua, gon

gn!reader

kurapika—

The way your relationship started was a slow ordeal. And by that, I mean, it was a gradual shift from friendship to something… more.

You fell first, but he fell harder type of relationship.

It took him a while to realize that what he felt was love, but when he did, he was quick to act.

Sitting you down and having an adult conversation about how he felt was how he confessed.

He’s a soft lover, and protective of you. It can feel a little overbearing at times, but really he’s just trying to keep you safe.

Not the most physical out of the four, but he often has his hand on your waist or holding yours.

It would have been a while into your relationship when he finally relayed what had happened to him as a child, with his clan & all.

He’s very open about everything about himself to you after that. You’d ask him to tell you stories about his family, and he would gladly oblige, avoiding sensitive topics.

His hands would be combing through your hair as you laid your head on his lap, looking up at him as he quietly told you about his mother. His other hand would be tangled in yours, drawing little circles on the back of your hand.

He lives for those hushed moments with you, tangled in sheets as he memorizes the details of your face, just talking about anything and everything that comes to mind.

leorio—

He’s a very sexual lover in my opinion, so you’d have to be okay with that before being in a relationship with him.

He’d probably confess his love to you on a whim, probably when you’re least expecting it. He fell first and harder, that’s just the way he is.

Genuinely thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and he treats you like it too.

Takes you on romantic, candlelit dinners at least once a month. An allotted day, in which he makes sure you’re free from work or any distractions, for the two of you to get dressed up and go out.

He’d be insistent that he needed to be in your arms in order to go to sleep. He claims he can’t sleep without you, but you’d occasionally find him with his head on his desk, glasses lazily strewn aside while soft snores leave his lips.

Loves it when you tie his tie. He knows how to do it himself, yes, this is true. But when your hands diligently and softly pull the fabric together around his neck, he falls even deeper in love with you.

Listens to jazz music. I will die on this hill. Pulls you into his arms when you’re trying to make dinner, and sways with you to the sound of the song playing in the background.

killua—

His favorite pastime is being with you, playing videos games. It doesn’t matter what, even better if it’s some low-quality game for duos. It’s endearing how competitive he gets, jokingly betting that he could finish the game so much faster than you could.

His fashion sense infects your fashion sense, and before long, you’re wearing his clothes. Loves when the two of you wear matching outfits, or even just similar styles. Out in public, at home, wherever you are.

Dates with him usually reside in arcades, malls, or wherever you like to go. He never lets you pay for anything, insisting that it’s nothing, even if the sum is well into the thousands.

Sharing earbuds with him is also one of his favorite things to do. You two have a shared playlist of all of the songs you like. After a few months, you notice how he has begun adding songs he thinks you’d like, and you had been adding songs you think he would like.

Buy him candy, and he will serve his heart to you on a platter. The first time you bought him those beloved chocolate robots he had loved so much, he seriously considered marrying you. Only to be dismayed when he realized that people his age shouldn’t be getting married.

He’s very sarcastic. You’ll have to put up with some downright sassy responses if you want to be in a relationship with him.

Prefers texting over calling if you’re long distance.

gon—

He radiates energy and loves to be doing something at all hours of the day. This can be good or bad depending on the type of person you are, as he adores going on hikes and traveling with you.

Likes it when you brush his hair. He doesn’t know what exactly about it he likes, but he finds himself leaning in to your touch when you card your fingers over his scalp.

Picnic dates for life. Just being outdoors with food and his partner, he could die of happiness.

Wears earth-toned clothing. You find yourself stealing his tank tops most often, because he always buys pure cotton clothes. They’re just comfier, he argues, and not at allll because he loves how they cling to your scent after you wear them.

Isn’t on his phone very much. You’ll text him asking what you think you should wear that day, and he might respond two days later with an answer. It’s frustrating sometimes, but being with him is like a breath of fresh air from such an online world.

Always loses at board games. No matter what game, from Monopoly to Life, he just can’t fully grasp the rules. Hey, at least that means you always win.

His body naturally runs really warm, so you’ll wake up in the mornings find all of the blankets are on the floor. You don’t really need them when you’re stuck to him like legos when you’re cuddling at night.

guys…….. two weeks turned into an entire month and a half IM SORRRYYYY. anyways i keep getting requests for singular characters and i always turn it in to requests for all four because honestly there’s not enough content out there for characters like leorio and gon and they deserve love too.

as always, likes and reblogs appreciated but not necessary!

[blindseer0]

Who Is Jenna and What is Her Route About?

(Reposted from Twitter)

Jenna’s Route is a highlight for many: arguably the happiest ending and the one most people recommend playing last. It’s also controversial, not just because Jenna is one of the more polarizing characters, but because people feel it doesn't focus enough on her.

I’ve seen multiple people comment that they still didn’t really know who Jenna was after playing her route. That kind of makes sense, since it has a large focus on Leo, which I think distracts people from what is going on with Jenna.

It doesn’t help that she is canonically the most enigmatic and guarded character, with Chase even commenting that he feels like there is extra meaning to what she says but he’s not smart enough to figure it out. So, who is Jenna and what is the point of her route?

Thankfully, the game has Flynn tell us exactly what each route is about. Carl’s is about his anxiety, fear of the future, and lack of confidence in himself. Leo’s is about his obsession with the past, inability to move forward, and projecting all of that onto Chase.

What about Jenna’s? Flynn’s comments to her are arguably the cruelest, and he even says as much. We know Jenna’s family were abusive towards her and that she had good reason to leave and never come back. Flynn knows this, he and Leo dealt with her family the most and its implied that after Leo and Chase started dating he was left to help her by himself. He never has anything positive to say about any of her family and seems to despise all of them. Why would he care about what happens to them or her relationship with them? The answer is, he doesn’t.

Flynn isn’t talking about how Jenna treats her biological family, he’s talking about her found family, our main characters. As he points out, Carl and Leo are both in very dark places (and we see him trying to help both of them, in his own way) and could really use her help.

Chase, who went to Pueblo on Jenna’s advice, seems lost and unsure of what to do with his life. Jenna’s on the same campus as him, and they’ve hardly talked. To be clear, Jenna isn’t obligated to sort their shit out, but it’s easy to see why Flynn thinks she abandoned them.

Flynn also accuses her of thinking she’s better than them because she left Echo, and he’s absolutely right. Why do I think that? Let’s look at everyone’s reactions to Sydney’s death. In Carl’s Route, Leo talks about how everyone changed after that.

Carl became more anxious and depressed, Leo became overprotective, Flynn became bitter, and TJ was obviously keeping a traumatizing secret. So, what about Jenna? What did she “learn” from Sydney’s death? Jenna learned that if you stay in Echo, it will FUCKING KILL YOU.

Jenna saw what the town did to her family, how it killed her brother, Sydney and countless others and she decided to leave before it killed her as well. We see her try to convince Chase, Carl, and even Leo to leave Echo, because she thinks the town will ruin them if they don’t.

That’s why she shows disdain towards Janice for still working at the diner and to various other people, because it’s obvious to her that the town breaks people and if they were smarter they would know they should leave; if they were stronger or just tried harder they could leave.

Jenna tells Chase as much, that the difference between her and Jeremy was “temperament”. Her “nature” was strong enough to overcome her “nurture”. She talks about how Heather “made herself a victim”, which is in contrast to Jenna, who does her best to not talk about her abuse.

Jenna needs to believe that she got out of Echo through sheer force of will; that she is better, tougher than everyone who stayed, because if that wasn’t the reason, what does that mean for everyone still there? What does it mean for her family? For her?

And the reason she shows disdain towards Flynn is not only because he’s still in Echo, but because he knows the truth of the lie Jenna tells herself: she didn’t survive Echo because of her temperament, she survived Echo because of her friends, her found family.

To get her good ending, you have Chase tell her “We kept each other sane”; we’re supposed to understand that “we” isn’t just Chase and Jenna, it’s all of them. Chase even says he could have become like Jeremy and Clint if he didn’t have Jenna, Leo, and the rest of the group.

Deep down, Jenna knows this. Before the temperament line she says that it was falling in with Clint that made Jeremy the (awful) person he is; that if things had been different, he, or she, could have been different.

In Jenna’s route Leo expresses a similar sentiment, saying he should have been there for Micha, should have introduced him to the group, that if he had, maybe things would have turned out better for the bat. In Route 65 he says that his friends are why he didn’t turn out like the people at the party.

That’s why Jenna’s good ending is what it is. You, as Chase, convince her that people can change, can be better, and that they can help each other survive, that you don’t have to do it on your own. Jenna talks Heather down because she realizes she could have been like Heather, if not for her found family keeping her sane and supporting her through the worst parts of her life.

(This is also LITERALLY true, in that she could not have physically left Echo if one of her friends, Chase, hadn't given her a ride out of town.)

It’s also why the Socketman is so prominent in the route; it’s what helped her survive her abusive childhood until she could meet Chase, Leo, and everyone else.

(I have another thread I could write about Jenna, Flynn and the Socketman, but this has already gone on too long.)

That’s why she doesn’t actually talk to Jeremy, another common complaint. Jeremy makes his choice when he sells her, and the people she cares most about, out to Brian. It’s not him she needs to talk to, it’s them. Her route is the only one where they’re all together at the end.

Jenna is a tough, talented person, and it wasn’t just luck that got her out of Echo and where she is; she put in the work. But admitting that she was lucky, that her found family, for all their flaws were, and are, still there for her, that there was some good in the hellhole that is Echo, that’s what allows her to save the people in the town, to save Heather, and leads to (arguably) the happiest ending in Echo. That’s why I love the writing for Jenna and her route so much. There’s so much under the surface and so many layers to explore.

(You, obviously, don’t have to agree with all or any of what I’ve said here, and I’d love people to tell me what they think or if I’m full of shit. I just wanted to put my thoughts out there, since I’ve seen people talking about it, and give another way to look at things.)

(I wanted to write a thread about Leo and Conservatism, but to write that I needed to write a thread about Leo, Jenna and College in Echo, and to write THAT I needed to explore Jenna’s character and what motivates her. Let me know if you would want to read either of those.)

[mysteriousauthor448]

What if Class of 09 Flipside was made by a Woman?

I liked Class of 09. I liked it's snappy dialogue, I liked it's social commentary of high school and women's experiences with creepy men and adulthood, I liked how it gave such a compelling main character where you know she's awful yet acknowledge that she has her reasons without justification. I like Class of 09, both the original and re-up. What I don't like though, is Class of 09: The Flipside.

Setting my personal disgust with the feet routes and the 'Palestinian slave trade' comment aside, the writing in Flipside just is completely different from the last 2. Instead of focusing on the biting social commentary of the woman experience, it instead prioritizes shock value with only some form of substance (e.g, jecka seeing nicole's suicide, jeffrey's death, the ending messages apart from the creator) And you know what else sucks? We never actually got to explore Jecka properly of who she is as a character, her relationships with her family, friends, former friends...Sure, we get doses of her life like her dad which does do what the game promised: Change how we saw the Class of 09 story before. We now understand why Jecka was terrified of the cop's yelling, not only because an powerful authority abusing his power but also experienced it before. See, this was the stuff I expected from Flipside. This was what the game should've prioritised in. Instead, it seemed like the creator would rather showcase his fetishes and spite people that don't like him or the game. From that there on, I keep thinking to myself: 'you know, this game would've been better had a woman wrote this.' But can they?

I'm a woman experienced high school before, even tried to fit the class of 09 writing style on my characters in my own personal time. Given how a lot of class of 09 fans are disappointed with the new game and I want to get into writing publically, I figure that I be the one to rewrite Class of 09 The Flipside in hopes of re-capturing the essence of the first two games alongside the game's intentions itself. Even though it's still in development, I've already outlined the routes/endings so far for you all to get a peek:

Route 1/Ending 1 - Invasion of MySpace: The foot route will be replaced by Jecka taking and making videos/pictures in order to make money after being fired from her job. Think of it like a late 2000s or early 2010s version of OnlyFans. This would help remain the social commentaries of men’s creepy behaviour to women alongside how their safety is affected. There’ll be an option of whether to go to the creepy man’s house or go home. If she goes home, she finds Nicole giving her dad a handjob with a dead expression. It ends with Jecka killing herself and implies that Nicole followed her too (not half naked though, just in regular clothes cuz I'm not a freak unlike someone)

Ending 2 - MurderSpace: If Jecka chose to go to the creepy man’s home, she gets murdered and placed like a doll in the man’s basement. 

Route 2/Ending 6 - Breaking the Wounded Heart: Jecka finds herself to work with Karen and Ari at Dominos. Overtime, they start to form a bond and Jecka herself starts to mature and finds Nicole to be unbearable. Jecka finally breaks off her friendship with Nicole and cuts forward to the future where Jecka currently lives a peaceful yet boring life, reflecting on the past with Nicole, wondering if she’s really better off without Nicole because while she’s now in a stable life without the chaos, it's the chaos that entertained her: Nicole entertained her. And now it’s all gone. But in the end, it suggests that things are much better with Nicole gone as it cuts to a phone beeping and Jecka looking down at it with a smile while Ari is by her side. Yes, this is the route where Jeckari is canon. I know this sounds too sweet for Class of 09 but I want it to still match the vibe with it being less shocking but more real in a way. Something too realistically depressing but still mundane. This is what I planned to be the saddest but best outcome of the game. The most real I should say. 

Ending 5 - Was it all worth it?: If Jecka chooses Nicole over her new friends, it ends with her and Nicole being homeless smoking drugs in an abandoned forest with Jecka reflecting on whether or not she made a good choice with Nicole before commenting on needing a Xanax to distract her from the regret and pain. 

Route 3/Ending 3 - Fuck Men!: Jecka gets into a relationship with a presumably kind-hearted gentleman. Nicole tries to warn her but Jecka won’t listen. She then is coerced by the man into doing sexual favours for his economic gain, making her become a sex trafficked victim.

Route 4/Ending 4 - Drunk Drive Delivery: Same route where Ari dies but instead the ending changed to Jecka being arrested for 6 months where the ending monologue would showcase her conflicted in anger and regret. Plus, it plays more to the idea of Jecka ‘dying at 21’ logic with being forced to work: adult party culture: that kind of thing. 

I'd be happy to hear any feedback or/and ideas for this rewrite.

[pomefioredove]

anyway I'm only thinking about this because I really like different origin explanations for yuu

(not as a theory, more like a "wouldn't this be cool?" thing)

canon yuu as we know them is our symbolic alice, right? the game is called twisted wonderland, the first dorm they deal with is heartslabyul, and similarly to alice in the disney movie and original book, they're a small, effeminate person lost in a world they don't understand, where they're in constant danger and never taken seriously

but I also really like the idea of villain!yuu

for this concept to work, though, it couldn't be a Disney villain whose already in TWST. no Frollo, no Maleficent, none of that. but it also has to be a villain who's different from the others. Yuu is our main character, after all, and it would be strange to have them be a run-of-the-mill villain, like... say, Captain Hook. it just wouldn't make sense

so they would have to be a villain that's quite different from the others, and they would have to be a villain who isn't well known in Twisted Wonderland. so, no "Righteous Judge" or "Great Seven" equivalent

they would have to have been forgotten. abandoned by history

now, we know that the Great Seven are remembered as heroes, but even minor characters have their folk tales and admirers, so being a niche villain isn't a good enough excuse. this villain would have to have been bad. worse than Frollo, worse than the Evil Queen, worse than Maleficent. someone so terrible that there were no survivors left to write them as a hero. someone so terrible that other mages had to cover them up

(I read a pretty neat theory about there having been an eighth member of the great seven who was eventually written over, which I'll link¹ later since I found it AS I was writing this, and the op and I had the same idea!)

but the theory essentially states that NRC originally had eight dorms, with Ramshackle being the forgotten dorm

in TWST canon, Ramshackle is based on the Mickey Mouse cartoons of the 30s (Lonesome Ghosts in particular) but it wouldn't be unrealistic to say that, if it had been an eighth dorm that was abandoned, especially if it was a very old one, it would have gone through centuries of renovations, just to fall out of use around the Victorian-equivalent era

then there's Yuu

and there are the questions: if they were a twisted villain, why do they have no magic? where did they come from? why are they here? and how do they have their memories, if they're from Twisted Wonderland?

I'll do one at a time:

!. The Question of Memory

canon Yuu is really interesting because they're so... well... Yuu. they're implied to have many talents, perhaps more than a normal person should have at their supposed age, they're strong, smart, and "less innocent than they seem", as Malleus said

but if Yuu was from Twisted Wonderland, then why do they have memories of home?

well... what if they were lying?

bear with me. now, maybe they could remember their past, and are withholding it, or (and this makes more sense to me), they don't remember their past and are pretending they do. why? because they have snippets of memory of who they once were, and they don't want anyone else to see them as that person. for any number of reasons

they could also just be confused and lost and trying to piece together their past, and is hoping that Crowley being able to send them back "home" will restore their full memory

okay, but what if "home" doesn't exist as they remember it?

Yuu is known to have "visions" of the past/future (which I will come back to), and it's likely that the only thing they remember about their "home" is the visions they have of it. the "home" they see is a place that no longer exists. and, as it was once ruled by a villain so evil that the world did everything they could to cover it up, there's no mention of it in history books. that's why Crowley can't find their home on a map or in a book

2. The Question of Magic

Yuu is canonically magicless. or so we're told

the Dark Mirror basically says that they have "nothing" in their soul. they can't cast spells or wield a magic pen

but they also have visions of the past, can connect with other realms, and aren't fucking dead, even after being hurt so many times, which, to me, can be explained by magic

Yuu has magic. they just can't use it

something could be blocking their magic pool, or they could have just forgotten how to use it (via the memory loss), or their magic manifests in other ways

I do really want to talk about Yuu's strength, though. I've had discussions about this before, because Yuu, despite being called small/weak by the other characters, is ridiculously powerful

here's the big thing: they don't die

six overblots, the prologue in the mine, book 6, glomas, playful land, the many in-school fights, the hypothermic conditions at Ramshackle, and Yuu is still healthy and alive

hell, they've probably been poisoned at least once. being friends with Kalim, Vil's overblot, and Lilia's cooking are all strong contenders

and they are. STILL. ALIVE!

maybe their magic isn't casting fireball. maybe it's something deeper. darker. maybe Yuu can't die

because Yuu is already dead.

3. How?

how Yuu even ended up in Twisted Wonderland is (supposedly) a mystery. at least, I don't think it's been explained yet...?

I'm gonna say it's not. for the sake of my essay

they don't know how they got here, and supposedly have no memory of the moments leading up to their arrival. where did they come from? why are they here? and how?

what if, bear with me, Yuu was dead. Yuu was dead, and something brought them back

the "world" they came from, the reason why their memories are so cloudy and vague, was actually the underworld

now Yuu is this undead thing, who was once an incredibly powerful mage, but whose magic is now being entirely used to keep them breathing and walking. so they can't be casting lightning bolt

(it would also be cool if Yuu had overblotted in a past life and that's what killed them but that's not a part of this essay)

being undead would explain how nothing kills them, why they can't properly wield magic (it's more like magic is wielding them, tbh), and why the Dark Mirror thought they had no soul

HOW they were brought back to the mortal world, I can't decide. there's so many good options- Crowley did some very illegal necromancy shit, Grim accidentally triggered something at NRC, or perhaps Yuu in their state of decay, used all their remaining magic to revive themselves, sacrificing their magic pool and their memories in the process. the latter being my favorite. Yuu necromancer

4. ...And Consequence

as we all know, shit gets weird at NRC after Yuu enrolls. I've seen a lot of REALLY fun theories about why this is, here's mine:

Yuu, being the absolute power source that they are, being associated with death and disaster and necromancy, is indirectly causing the blots by leaking so much fucking magic into their environment that it's making the more powerful mages like 10x more likely to overblot

that's it. they just attract death and destruction to them

5. Final Remarks

there are other little things I think would make this make sense. why aren't they afraid of Malleus (or, like anything)? because they're worse. much worse. and even though they can't remember everything, they know that

but the name! Yuu! that's not connected to any villains!

BUT IT IS, because "Yuu" is not their real name. it's supposed to sound like "you" because they made it up on the spot. it's almost as if... names are a source of weakness to powerful mages... and they're withholding theirs because they remember that

Grim could either be some rando Twisted Wonderland thing or he could be the source of their visions. I haven't quite decided yet

Malleus once says that Yuu is "not as innocent as they seem", which would make me wonder if he knows something the others don't. or if Lilia does. or even Silver. Briar Valley is medieval in many ways, and if anyone would keep record of a villain so evil and powerful that the rest of history buried them entirely, it would be Briar Valley

if Yuu did have an overblot, it would be bad. Idia Shroud bad. Malleus Draconia bad. worse, even, if Yuu is an experienced necromancer and can induce (and possibly manipulate) blot

6. The End

let me TLDR this: this Yuu is not "Yuu", but an ancient and powerful mage who necromancied themself back to life and ended up at NRC with a clouded memory of their past life. the ~figure~ they're based on was so horrible and destructive that they were intentionally forgotten, written over by the few survivors of their evil. this figure being so ancient that they are older than Briar Valley, so ancient that Yuu has visions of a "home" that hasn't existed in thousands of years

Yuu has a strong association with death and undeath, a means into seeing the past, present and future, and into connecting with other worlds. their home, their history, their ruler was forgotten, written over because it was so bad it couldn't be associated with anything but death and destruction

basically, what if Yuu wasn't Alice.

what if Yuu was The Horned King?

1 https://www.tumblr.com/valy-gc/746674187452792832?source=share

[transmascaraa]

Hi! I've currently been into Ga ming recently since he's released and your works for him are really cute 💗💗 so I was wondering if I can maybe request him, Bennett, tighnari, cyno, and Scaramouche (if you write for them ofc!) with a always nauseous and overheating reader?

I've been going through that for a long while now and it kinda adds onto not really eating all the time because of being afraid to throw up when it happens, sometimes feeling like a burden for having a different body temperature than most and feeling like it's just a problem, not being able to wear clothes I really want to because of how hot I may get, the possibility of passing out whenever and the embarrassment I get from that, ect 😭

I hope your day is well, and that hopefully you have a fun time writing this if you decide to 💗🫶

multiple characters headcannons!

how are they with overheating!reader?

characters: gaming, bennett, tighnari, cyno, wanderer x gn!reader

author's note: i love this idea so much😭 i'm not somebody that's overheating easily, but i still get hot faster than others, it's the main reason i hate summer and love winter👍 but i think i can understand people who suffer from overheating. i once almost passed out a few months ago and it's either that i felt sorry for this one dog, or because of sunstroke. either way, i'm glad to do this request, because i really like it<3

Gaming

-he would be prepared ALL THE TIME. it's true. it's canon, i'm the mole on his neck.

-anyways, he would always have one of your t-shirts in his bag. he learnt how to do cpr and what to do IF you pass you. he reassured you that it was okay. that you having a warmer body temperature wasn't something you should be embarrassed of.

-in his eyes, he found the good in that whole problem.

-winter, you're not all the cold in winter, while he... freezes, despite being pyro.

-he's there with you, always ready for anything, encouraging you to eat.

-he also always has a cold drink in his bag, it might come in handy for you...

-either way, he wouldn't mind it. he just wants to help you. he sees nothing wrong with you.

-but he avoids teasing you that much, what if you get too hot and feel nauseous?

-he doesn't want that. instead, he knows when to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bennett

-he's clumsy, and everyone knows that. but he does try his best to help. he WANTS to help.

-when you feel nauseous, he starts panicking a bit but tries to keep a more calm composure to not make it even harder for you.

-he knows how to treat you. he's trying his best, please, thank him.

-he asked lisa about how to help a nauseous person, and he listened closely.

-sometimes, he rants to razor about you, but not about your overheating problem, but about how strong you were. how brave you were.

-how he admired you.

-and when with you, he tries to tell you all of those same things, but he ends up blushing too much, and just telling you to "paint it over".

-but at rare times, when he makes you feel hotter by telling you such sweet praises, he apologizes immediately, and tries to cool you down.

-he's trying, he really is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tighnari

-he has everything with him. if gaming had everything you needed, tighnari has 2 times more of them. what if you run out of cold water? what if the first shirt he brought with him was still making you hot? he even has an ice pack with him.

-he's like a mom. anything you need, he has it. he would take great care of you, making sure you're alright.

-if you're nauseous, don't worry! he has the medicide. you're allergic to something? you'll never see it again.

-if you're ever close to passing out, he knows exactly what to do, so you shouldn't worry all that much, because you have him.

-others, and even maybe you, might see him as overprotective, or overreacting, but he just says that "it's for your own good" and carries on with taking your mind off of things by talking to you about aranaras.

-he may be a bit strict, but it really is jsut because he cares for you. he wants the best for you, and hopes that he can be the one to help you get to there.

-i could talk about him for ages but i think you get the point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cyno

-i'm virtually sighing right now. he would care for you, yes, do anything for you, do anything you want him to.

-he'll bring you anything and everything you need.

-he had anything you need with him, but if you run out of anything, he's thinking of a solution to stop that.

-in all seriousness, he'll skip anything and everything for you.

-yes, he does bore you with his horrible jokes no matter what, but if he sees that he's too annoying, he'll stop.

-if you're about to pass out, he's either gonna keep his composure and help you or just...

-call tighnari because he's panicking a bit too much.

-he avoids bringing you to the desert with him, completely, at all costs.

-he wants to to be okay, and reassures you when you have trouble eating.

-he's like a dad, the opposite of tighnari. he may not have anything you need at ALL times, but he always comes up with a solution.

-and he loves choosing outfits for you, and he gets hot easily too, that's why he doesn't wear much clothing himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanderer

-uhhh he's complicated. he'll never show any interest in helping you, but deep down he so fucking worried about you. he would take your body heat if he could. he would splash you with ice-cold water if you wanted to.

-but he'd mask it with saying "weak."

-you know him good enough tho, he cares about you more than anyone else.

-you know he'd sacrifice anything and everything to help you.

-he literally forces you to eat.

-he has everything you need with him, and does his best to help you. if he runs out of something, he'll call nahida.

-nahida plays a huge part in this too, but you don't know.

-he secretly talks to nahida to teach him about overheating more. so he knows how to help. he asks her any question he has, and the almost immediately memorizes it. he needs to know how to help you. so, if you ever almost pass out, he'd just be telling you to shut up while trying to help, but on the inside, it's a mess, really.

-he doesn't want you in pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i actually really like this one

HELP MY LAST MULTI-CHARACTER ONE GOT ALMOST 400 NOTES I'M GOING CRAZY

either way, i hope you like this one, anon! and that you i potrayed overheating good enough😭

[terezis]

ok here's the hot goss from the nycc taz gn panel

i don't actually know whether or not it was recorded/ if they're going to put it online so here is my summary. also if i miss anything and u were there pls feel free to chime in. spoilers obviously!!!

got eight new preview pages (four two-page spreads), not the pages on the macmillan website!!!

ok i will tell u about those pages but the main thing discussed at the panel was how they went about adapting this arc into gn form. the actual time spent in wonderland has been trimmed a lot bc they had to think about what was actually important to the narrative as they are building to story and song.

basically in planning out the suffering game they also really had to decide what the rest of the series would look like, bc whatever they include now is seeding the stuff that's going to happen later.

cam is not in this book. it was implied there's less wheel spins. rowan/ash/sterling get much less screen time

almost half of this book is lunar interlude stuff (pre and post suffering game, INCLUDING REUNION TOUR!!! no word on where it ends but they made it clear that a LOT of thought went into what to include and where to end it, and what that would mean for the next book)

ok so about those preview pages

first one was post-taakitz date with kravitz sensing a lich and the umbra staff shooting at him <3 <3 <3

i thought they were going to show us the preview pages that were on macmillan so when i saw kravitz i was so shook

second spread was magnus visiting the voidfish, which now happens right before they leave for wonderland; the whole beginning of tsg from magnus trying to talk to pringles to him kidnapping those guards to the chimera fight was cut LOL bc it never really got… addressed again in the podcast

angus comes to get him for the mission but magnus has been going Through It (outright stated, they were like. he found out he's a red robe. he would probably not be handling it well. he has eyebags now. LOL) and snaps at angus when angus presses him on what's wrong.

more angus content, he will be investigating what's going on at the bureau more (his scene w magnus ties into this)

same for lucretia! more content/ stuff for her to do

third spread was merle w his kids getting saved by the red robe, is at a carnival instead of a random street this time LOL

last one was the boys arriving just outside of wonderland

wonderland looks fuckign cool

what else… oh confirmed like eighty panels of bare ass naked magnus after he gets his body back. so i think we really are getting the full reunion tour this book???

ALSO NAKED BARRY COVERED IN SLIME. WHEN HE GETS OUT OF THE POD. CONFIRMED. CANON. LOL

omg ALSO!!! ben (editor) said he campaigned REALLY HARD to have the umbra staff break during the suffering game, freeing lup early, bc he really wanted more time with her, but griffin campaigned really hard NOT to do this, and in doing so his arguments solved a lot of other problems they had been having at the time LOL

travis is the fans' champion when the others get too edit-happy. he's the one who has a good idea of what moments are important to the readers so he's like hey… too far. don't cut that. and then they don't

justin leaves great notes and when they couldn't figure stuff out ben would often say "no it's fine justin will solve this." and he ALWAYS DID

this was news to justin

??? i think that's all the main points honestly i'm v picky about adaptations but overall i feel like these are good changes that make sense when translating the podcast to gn

that said i do hope taako still gets a washing machine dropped on him <3 do this for me carey <3

[lynaferns]

FNAF Steampunk AU

That I never finished because I couldn't figure out what was going to be the story and character dynamics, and the role of each character, and yeah… I also spend many days writing, rewriting and changing thing, I didn't even get to finish the first draft and I got artblock.

I think my problem in the first place was that I wanted to make this AU stick to canon. A mistake, I know lmao. Later I thought of just making up most of the things but having to rewrite what I had already done dismotivated me.

So I thought of at least showing this character height chart I made a year ago. And maybe, idk, some of the wips that I never finished.

Maybe some notes and interactions I wrote under a cut.

If you ever want to ask me about what I had planned for this AU go ahead! Some main things about this story are:

All of the events of the story happens in a week (or so).

Gregory acts a little more scared than what is shown in the game.

DCAs arms can stretch up to 100 ft (30 m). He bends them to write or make shapes in the air.

Sun has some nowlege in animatronic repairs and maintenance due to being abandonent, having to repair himself.

Vanessa/Vanny have a biger role than in the game.

Burntrap also apeared more.

All animatronics are equiped with dart guns (for safety!). There are some places that require to leave the dart guns behind to continu.

Pizza is scuare (this is not important, I just felt like adding it).

Also, first idea and some doodles.

Edit: Now Cassie is in the AU

Gregory gets to escape to the locker rooms leaving Chica behind him. While searching for an exit Gregory gets surprised by Sun who was searching for him, and out of fright takes out the camera and flashes his bad eye damaging him for a few seconds.

Sun- "you were carring an object capable of blinding animatronics with you and you didn't use it against Chica to escape?!"

Gregory- "I didn't remember! I was more focused on running than taking a camera out of my pocket!"

Sun-pointing at himself with his hands- "And you had to remember when you saw ME?!"

Monty grabs Moon by the neck and throws him like a stick doing a spinning motion on the air, Roxy chases after him. She comes back carrying Moon with her mouth.

Freddy has an existential crisis by seeing endos. Moon is there awkwardly watching him. He gives him a pat on the back.

The auxiliary arm of the protective cylinder is broken, Gregory has to repair Sun manually. Trying to put his face plate back the nose falls off and Gregory nervously catches it juggling. They look between each others and the nose.

Sun-"..." "Gregory"

Gregory-"..."

Sun-"come on, say it"

Gregory-"..." "Got your nose~"

Vanessa is explaining something to the group. Moon is behind her copying her movements. The others are trying not to laugh. She notices and throws a flashlight at Moon.

They divide in groups. Moon gets on Monty's backs like a gremlin.

Moon-"go gator boy"

Monty-"I hate you"

One last, this is a whole scene that needs a bit of context. The current team members are Gregory, Freddy, Sun/Moon. They have figured out that the safe mode prevents animatronics from acting weird/hostile (found out the hard way in an encounter with moon and a fuse box). Though Moon seems not to attack Gregory anymore they wanted to test it with the rest of the band and found Chica, some things happened, they left her in her room in sleep mode and went to roxy raceway. This begins when they head to the west arcade to repair the service bot's head and on their way they encounter Chica out of the sleep mode but more normal.

(Forgive my poor writing, this was more of a script)

The four of them stare at each other until one decides to react.

Sun–”HELLLLO” Chica– holding her left arm–”A- Hiii, umm” Freddy– “He-hello Chica! What got you here??” Chica– “I-uh…patrol? I- think?? There… There is a child lost in the pizzaplex and we were, like- told to go find him, remember?” “Actually, wait, why are you out of your room? I thought maintenance put you on lock down- And what is the Daycare attendant doing out of the Daycare? it’s not the end of the hour yet- Oh!”–she just saw Gregory behind Freedys legs–”hey! you got the kid-”–flashback of the garbage compactor–”GET HIM”–she points at him with a dart gun– Sun–gets in the way–”WOAH WOAH WOW easy there!” Freddy–”Chica- wait! It’s ok he’s with us” Chica–”T-that-that kid is a menace! He- we should-HAVE to take him to the officer Vanessa–” Gregory–*gasp * Freddy & Sun– “NO!” Chica–”????wha-?

Freddy– “We must not take him to her.” Chica- “You guys kidding?” “These are literal-plain-instructions that you are- just-” “That kid threw me through the garbage compactor!” Gregory–”You tried to kill me!” Chica–”what?! No! I couldn’t do that, that’s against my programming!” Sun–”Uuumm, about that miss-” Chica–”YOU”–points at Sun with the gun– Sun–”?!” Chica–”You were there too!” “You have been with this kid all this time!” Sun–hands up-”Iwastryingtostophim” Freddy–”Chica, calm down, I know what this looks like but-” Sun–”OHMYGOSHWAITGUYS, she’s not hostile!” Chica–”wha-?” Freddy–”what…?” Gregory–”what??” “She’s literally pointing at us with a gun” Sun–standing next to Chica, pointing at her while looking at Freddy and Gregory–”I just noticed! her behavior changed-!” Chica–redirects the gun to re-target him–”you’re getting too close” Sun–ignores that–”She’s back to normal! That means the safe mode worked, we can use this!”

Chica–”What are you talking about?” Freddy–”You’re right! That’s a relief” “right Gregory?” Gregory–”...Yyyyyeah? I guess, yeah” Chica–”seriously, what do you all mean?” Freddy–”Well, It’s a little long story-” Sun–”And we will explain it to you!” “BUT not now, we are in a rush!” “To repair this bot-head so Gregory can ride the racecar” Chica–”...” “‘you serious?” Sun–”yep!” “Say, Gregory! You still want to ride?” Gregory–”uh-yeah” Sun–”Then let’s go!” “TO THE WEST ARCADE!”–grabs Freddy and Gregory and takes them there–”You can come if you want~!” Chica–”...” “OH- GOLLY, WELL” “I guess I’ll just go with you even though I don’t understand what is happening! And no one is going to give me an explanation!” Freddy–”-I promise that I’ll give you a wide explanation once we are done with all this… But in a more private place”

There are actually a couple more of scenes before this one (and after) but I'm not very confident of showing those (or any actually but I don't want this to be buried in my documents and forgoten because I really want to at least make a decent story)

Also, I know that the canon heights for the animatronics are like 6 ft but I prefered my height variety headcanons. Maaaaaybe they are a little too tall looking at it now that I look at it again but, eh.