#alone by myself again

[cyrille-leclair-de-fontaine]

Sleep doesn't come easily, but Cyrille is undoubtably exhausted, so it does draw him down in fits and starts. When he finally slips into deep sleep, he feels heavy, weighted down as if by some other force. He blinks open his eyes, taking in whatever surroundings Chero has decided to let him see.

The area around looks like a.. very overgrown garden. If there was a roof, it was entirely black and far too high to even dream of reaching. Literally. There were vines all over the place, and some of them shift away at Cyrille’s presence. 

"Chero?" He turns around, gaze skittering across the greenery. "I'm here. You said you'd talk."

“Yeah, I’m back here. Can’t really move right now, so you’re gonna have to come here. Don’t get eaten by sundew.” A voice calls.

"Sundew?" Cyrille starts cautiously towards the voice, keeping a wary eye out. This place feels oddly more… real than even his most recent dreams. "Can you ever say things clearly?"

“They’re orange plants with little white stem things on them. They’re carnivores. They will eat you if they can reach you.” A laugh. “Also, no. It’s been a standing issue for ages now!”

Okay, avoid getting close to the orange plants. Got it.

Carefully making his way through the dense foliage, he keeps looking around for the source of the voice. "...where are you?"

“Near the only real wall in this place. Just keep walking towards my voice and then I think you’re good.” A pause. “Oh! And also listen out for a hissing noise. And maybe small wisps of smoke.”

"...why." After a second he spots a wall through the densely packed leaves, changing his path slightly.

“You’ll see in a bit. It isn’t as bad as it looks. And sounds.”

He finally reaches the wall, looking around for Chero. Or anyone at all, since he doesn't really know what he looks like…

“Up here, blondie.”

No ceiling means the top of the wall is actually reachable- and climbable, when you have multiple arms. The hissing noise gets louder as Chero jumps off the wall and lands next to Cyrille. He had scratched the wall with one of his hands as he had fallen to make sure he didn’t break his leg or something.

Casually tightening the bow in his hair, he smiles at Cyrille. “Hey. Welcome to basically hell.”

Cyrille crosses his arms, unimpressed. "I'm here. Can you tell me what I want to know, now?"

“Yeah, yeah. Give the chains a moment to catch up.” He gestures vaguely at the sky.

As if he jinxed it, chains quickly appeared on his four wrists, ankles, and neck. The smoke and the hissing noise seemed to be coming from the ankles and neck. Oddly enough, the chains were made of glass- the ones that were hissing, that is. The other four were made of some glowing white material.

“Speak of the devils. Okay, we can talk business now.”

"You said there's a way to wake him up faster. What is it?"

“Oh! Right, I did say that.” His smile stretches the tiniest bit. “There are a various amount of options. One could be you breaking me out of these fuckers.” He taps his chin. “Even if you don’t like that, all the others are considerably worse.”

"Just list them out for me."

“Okay, let me think.”

He silently counts in his head for a moment, his fingers raising with each number.

“You could take his place, somehow find a way to get my core back, kill Scara- which I’m sure you won’t do. You would rather end yourself than even harm him.” He rolls his eyes. “What else.. you could give me a bit of your spirit so I can break out myself, but that’ll cut your lifespan by a bit. And then there’s killing me. Which would be a problem for everyone, because if I explode Scara might too. Might. I’m not sure.”

Cyrille is quiet for a long moment, grimacing as he turns the options over in his head. Chero was right about them all being unappealing… But for Scara? Then something Chero said catches his attention. "Get your core back?"

“Yeah! That’s the thing he stole from me in the first place- well, one of them.” He stares at his hands for a moment. “Whatever. Anyways, yes- he currently has it on him and it’s part of the reason why he kept coughing up blood last dream. Cause he was activating a part of magic that I don’t even use anymore.”

"How would I even get it? Is it on him physically, or would I need to share a dream with him again and convince him to give it to me…?"

“You’d have to catch him in a dream again, convince him that he actually has it because I’m not sure he even fully knows, and then you kinda gotta just stab your hand into his chest and pull it out.” Chero shrugs. “Although, after what happened last dream.. he may be avoiding you for a little bit. He was crying a lot more than usual this time when I started bothering him.”

"...because I'm a fucking idiot, yeah." He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "And hypothetically, how hard would it be to break those chains? Because that sounds like the only other acceptable option."

“The ones on my neck and ankles are glass, so you can probably just hit them and they’ll break. These ones though-” He holds out his four hands. “Are uh- I actually don’t even know what they are. But if I can’t break them now, I could probably break them if I had my magic back.”

He shrugs again and leans against the wall. “There’s also the option of waiting it out. For either the chains to erode because they no longer have Rhea as a power source, or for me to die.”

"And who knows how long that will take…" He considers the non-glass restraints with narrowed eyes. "I could probably break the glass, at least… Then I guess I just have to sleep enough for Scara and I to meet up and… try to convince him."

“That works! And you get to take a bit of whatever anger you may have out, so that’s another bonus.” Guess - have to —- — — a bit —---. “I would say be careful, but I doubt any glass is gonna get stuck in your skin.”

"Yeah, yeah." Cyrille reaches down to grab a rock, hefting it. "Hold still. I'm going to try and deal with the cuffs themselves so you don't have them hanging off you and… smoking."

“Whatever gets these things off.” He shrugs again, but then remains still.

Kneeling down and hooking a hand through the gap between skin and glass, Cyrille doesn't hesitate to bring the rock down, shattering it into glittering pieces. He repeats the process with the other ankle, then stands, regarding the collar thoughtfully. "...if I miss, don't be pissed at me."

“Eh, I probably won’t feel it.” He shakes out his feet, making sure he doesn’t wince at the shards of glass that decided to stick themselves directly into his ankles. He’ll deal with that later.

Shrugging, Cyrille grabs the collar and brings the rock down again. It only cracks the one side, so he hits the other side too, and it falls into two pieces on the ground.

Cyrille tosses the rock over his shoulder. "There. Wake me up now, I think I need to talk with Scara's brother before I try to catch Scara in a dream… Don't want him waking me up because he thinks I'm sleeping too much."

Chero rubs his neck, then nods at Cyrille. “Sure, sure. But wanna know something funny?”

"...what."

He smiles again. “I don’t think you thought of the possibility that I’d stop Scara from reaching you.”

And without waiting for a response, there’s a large flash of light, and Cyrille is thrown out of the realm with Chero’s laugh echoing all around.

Cyrille jolts up in bed, breathing hard, then buries his face in his hands. Why is he a fucking idiot…

Did he just make everything worse?

[doydoune]

something something about mentors and cycles and mentors and cycles

[fuumiku]

It was Maid Day today yesterday a week ago so I got struck by inspiration to draw the worsties, and it ran away from me into a whole AU where they’re coworkers at a maid cafe. She’s a med student & this is just a part time job, and this is his depression job while he gets his life back together. He needs something he can be workaholic about to forget what it’s like having a personal life and personal issues. He’s actually the accountant, but the new hire janitor (Izutsumi) doesn’t show up for half her shifts and is a sloppy worker, so he gets the extra work of doing her job on top of his because he’s undervalued and overworked. Of course, janitors also have an uniform to keep the aesthetic cohesion as they go about cleaning the place, of course.

Senshi’s the part time cook you only see slivers off, he’s kind and warm when you do see him and have a chat but most shifts he’s in and out the kitchen without a trace. Laios and Falin are regulars because Falin and Marcille are besties & in the same med school, Laios accompanies Falin as she visits her friend at work and gets hooked on the food. Chilchuck has to remind Marcille to work instead of chatting with Falin for an hour, and next thing he knows she’s distracting him from work too. That’s it that’s the AU. Inspired by this idol AU fanart a bit <3

This was not meant to be birthday gift but well…… Happy bday Chil!!!

Read from left to right

[hollytree33]

“Not much farther now.”

Wanted to try my hand at a mock screenshot study of Shivana! This is of the night before she reached the Temple of Sacred Ashes, before a much longer journey begins (she did not dress for the weather)

[fucklife101]

I don’t feel anything anymore, I’m so exhausted. I just want to be gone.

[gojoest]

threesome with sukugo . . .

[mewguca]

POTS is acting up again so I project on my fave to cope once again

(it's my fault for not taking care of my health properly but hyperventilating because I decided to Stand Up And Walk is still rather annoying and unpleasant)

[welcometogrouchland]

It's mostly the fault of poor editorial practices that B&R is so heavily misaligned continuity-wise w/ the main batman book. But walk with me for a minute:

You are Damian Wayne. You are 14 years old and have had one of the worst years of your life last year. Which is saying a lot.

Your brother, one of the people you were closest to, got shot in the head and forgot who you were. Your best friend went to space for a week and came back 3/4 years older than you, taking away your previously established dynamic and leaving you to have to bond all over again w/ a new one. You may or may not have gone wayyy too far with your new superhero team, who now all hate you, because you fucked up big time*

And worst of all, when you do try to do the right thing, you end up forced to watch Alfred, a father figure to you, the only one at your birthday that year, the person who has been so patient, loving and trusting with you, even when you probably didnt deserve it...die. you watch him die, and feel it's all your fault.

And your dad never corrects you on that last point. So you run away.

First to your mom who can tell something's up with you, she knows you don't give up that easy, you decide not to stay with her because you remembered how actually, neither of your parents are good at communicating with you despite their best efforts, so now you're 14 and flying solo.

And you do fly solo. For a while. Make new friends, new enemies. You think you're better off for it. You've got your best friend and your brother back. They're not around as much. It's fine.

And eventually your dad tells you that it's not your fault that Alfred died. Bit late but it's appreciated. Really. There's a bit of a hiccup where you get possessed by a demon and wage war against your father but after that, all in all, you two are...together again.

You start to think maybe you want to give him another chance, for the two of you to be father and son.

And in a change of pace, it works out! It's going good, mostly. He insists you go to highschool, you resist, feel like he wants you to be something that you're not (wants you to be normal), but eventually you acquiesce for your own reasons. He cheers you on at soccer and nosies around at your fundraising events with the other parents and gives you a stern talking to about your choice of girlfriend. Because he cares.

Except all the while this is going on, your dad is currently having his brain slowly taken over by an evil version of himself that he created and every time you look away he's slowly tearing your family apart (your brothers are just barely keeping it together. The ones who didn't get lobotmized that is Jesus Christ). You keep taking his side in these conflicts, for whatever reason. Maybe because he promised it would be different this time, and it isn't** and you're going to stick with him until he keeps his word for once.

But at the end of the day?

It's like your brother says. You're not the one who saves him. Broadly speaking, you've made things worse and needed others to come save you. And what else is Robin really for? You thought it was about redemption and teamwork but guess you're wrong. It's about saving your self destructive, apparently two-faced and erratic father. And you can't even do that right.

* TT (2016) by Adam Glass is a racist ooc mess, but unfortunately it's still canon so I'm referencing here, though like a lot of works authors clearly wish weren't canon but are, it's been subsequently glossed over. Win? Maybe? Or not?

** again Zdarky's characterization of Damian is so outdated as to be ooc, and considering the way he constantly and explicitly uses it to illustrate Tim's strengths as robin, I'd argue there's. Also implications there. But the batshit insanity of the main batbook compared to B&R rn is crucial for this post, so I'm attempting to justify it. This time..

[buttercupshands]

MHA didn't create some miracle way of helping others. It was never promised to be this way. And when it came to villains...

Spoilers for manga all the way to chapter 423.

The only way to get anything in life in MHA was to be born "normal" like everyone else and that way of thinking never left Izuku with Toga getting the same treatment she did before from everyone from her family to her "normal" classmates. It was Ochako who helped Toga even if just a little by lifting the weight of all the feelings that Toga had.

She couldn't save Toga the way one could save a civilian by saving them from harm. If it worked that way Dabi would've saved Toga even before Ochako could apologize for failing to notice Toga. She was so lazer focused on saving everyone else, that she was just another villain to stop, not a human.

Even if by the end of it Ochako helped Toga to deal with her grief, acceptance as it was wasn't something possible when a quirk makes you want to drink someone's blood from jealousy.

We got a bittersweet ending with Toga, in which she probably died from blood loss just like her double did in MVA. If it wasn't for Twice she would've died back then.

Giving away her blood for Ochako wasn't a redemption or a way to save Toga in the end, more as it was her being true to herself until the very end.

Just like Twice chose to stay with the League even if Hawks offered him a way to survive that battle. He refused and died protecting his friends who accepted him instead of choosing to betray them and accept Hawks' offer.

After Twice's death... It was a matter of time that more 'active' LoV members would join him as well. As sad as it is, we now can return to Izuku.

Who, after his time OFA-AFO quirk space, now wanted to help a "crying boy" he saw in Tenko just as before with Katsuki in chapter 1. He didn't forgive Tomura and didn't excuse the way he chose to solve his problems.

It didn't mean that Tomura would survive in their battle, even if Izuku didn't see killing others as a way to solve problems. He didn't understand Tomura, but he still wanted to try, and try he did.

The rest of this post was nothing more than a contextual prologue to understand that it's not the first time a hero failed to save a villain and in Twice's case we know that he died and his death was the reason Toga started thinking about her own possible death and Dabi finally revealed himself as Toya.

The goal of saving a "crying boy" never was an end-goal for Izuku in the Final arc, since helping Tomura deal with his feelings just left him hollow with a goal that clashed with Izuku's. As being a hero for villains meant destroying the world for them to help them live freely.

But that was before AFO resurfaced.

Sadly after that Tomura who was talking about making his own choices for a while now stopped doing that. Even if he still had a goal of helping villains and only villains, Tomura was almost gone. And his goals were now unreachable.

Izuku helped Nana who in turn kept Tomura from fading away entirely. In MHA there were countless situations where Izuku's help affected people by helping a different person to keep hope, All-Might being the first one and Nana being the last one at the moment.

Hollow after Izuku helped him to get rid of his hatred Tomura could do the only thing he did - accept the situation as it was.

Accepting AFO as his Sensei, accepting Stain's ideals and Overhaul's deal was the way he solved his problems. Just like Izuku had a problem of understanding something outside of his norm, Tomura was accepting too many things, which lead to his downfall after accepting AFO's quirk.

Just like Twice could've given up everything that he had for his friends so did Tomura.

With Izuku helping as much as he could let Tomura to finally rest as he wasn't really living ever since waking up in the hospital. With his body now affected by AFO's wishes instead of his own until the end.

In a way Izuku didn't succeed in his wish for Tomura to stop ever since PLF war arc. As he "kept fighting to destroy" no matter how hard Izuku tried to stop him.

The only thing he succeeded in was changing Tomura's mind about himself, instead of viewing himself as a monster he accepted that he was a human just like Izuku said. A "crying boy" who couldn't really destroy Izuku's hands in the end.

For a group of Villains who weren't supposed to get profiles of their own at the start of the series, League is slowly fading as the most memorable group that there was in MHA, getting backstories, their own Villain themed arc all the while being as human as anyone else.

As sad as their story is they were not "unlucky", they didn't need a happy false ending where they would need to change to be normal - they chose to live this way and they lived it to it's fullest.

[lilybug-02]

Wait so how do you know for sure the sprite is Ralsei? No hate, I do believe you haha, but I too am a lore scientist and I wanna know your evidence. Does it show up in-game? I could definitely believe that I saw it in-game and forgot about it :P

YES. Finding legitimate sprites directly from Toby Fox games can be surprisingly difficult. There are so many fan-made character sprites, that it can be hard to differentiate from the real ones!

Guess how many are NOT fan-made? .....only one 🗿

...(please don't question why google is in italian)

Official Websites like Spriters Resource (Ralsei's Offical Sprite Sheet) are very helpful in this regard :)

They may even include unused file graphics. Like this unused face of Ralsei.

Sprite legitimacy is a big rabbit hole that I personally don't have enough knowlege on :( ((BUT OH MY GOSH The internet is notorious for reposting fan-spriteworks without sourcing. It can be really hard to find the original artist.))

It's also HILARIOUS how many people have redone Ralsei's sprite. It is quite obvious from my Ralsei poll and through his mass of fan-redesigns, that many people in the Deltarune community REALLY LOVE his Chapter 1 sprite more.

Ralsei sprite fan-art is amazing and I personally want to mod it into my game bc it looks so good. Below I have some really cool fan-sprites I found and the artists who made them!

Left (Ralsei Ch 2 redesign- metr0nix727), Middle (Ralsei based off Ch 1- larituca), Left (Full Ralsei Chapter 2 Sprite sheet with Hat- artist unknown**)

**this sprite sheet was submitted through Sprites Resource but I traced it back to TaxeisNotOkay, who I presume to be the original artist. I could not find any other information regarding the full sprite sheet, so feel free to correct or inform me if you find anything!

Looking back at Ralsei's Chapter 2 head sprites..... they just don't look as good as they could in my opinion. I dont like them :(...uhhh NO HATE OF COURSE!!..ahklasdkflansdf I'll go jump in this hole now.

[cyrille-leclair-de-fontaine]

He watches out his small window as the sun sets and the sky dims, sighing. Seems like Wanderer still needs some time...

Putting his finished work aside, Cyrille stretches out on the couch. He's spent enough nights out here, another one couldn't hurt...

———————————————————————

Cyrille stands with crossed arms, eyes narrowed at Scara. "I'm dreaming about you again."

Scaramouche raises an eyebrow at Cyrille, smiling a bit. “You’re more aware than last time. Good for you then.”

"Prove it."

“..what?”

"Prove that I'm not just dreaming you. Like you said last time. Prove you're not just a figment of my desperate  imagination."

Scaramouche sighs. “Of course you’d say something like that. How exactly am I supposed to do that?”

Tapping the side of his arm, Cyrille thinks for a moment. What is something the real Scara wouldn't do… "...let me pick you up."

Scaramouche’s smile is quick to fade, and he scowls instead. “That—really? Out of everything–"

There was a lot more grumbling that wasn’t really understandable, but, for the sake of magic bullshit, Scara sighed.

“Fine. Come here then.”

Cyrille raises an eyebrow. "Should be the other way around, shouldn't it?"

He holds out his arms, but doesn't take a step.

“If I still had my physical body I swear to god Cyrille. You’d be–" ...nope. Not finishing that sentence. 

Groaning, Scaramouche reluctantly takes steps towards Cyrille until he’s right in front of the other. “I shouldn’t have to do more than that.”

Still squinting suspiciously, Cyrille doesn't bother hesitating before scooping him up, shifting him slightly in his arms to better balance his weight. "...I didn't expect you to actually agree. So…" 

He turns his head to the side, suddenly realizing that oh, he has the real Scaramouche in his arms. "Ah… you said something last time about Chero?"

As embarrassing as it is, he's not passing up this opportunity. Scara carried him all the time in the waking world, it's his turn.

Scaramouche, still scowling, grumbles a bit more before directly responding to Cyrille. “...Yeah. So I may or may not have made him a little too mad, and then in return he basically indirectly killed me.”

All the color washes out of Cyrille's face. "...killed? You… you're dead?"

“...Okay maybe I shouldn’t have phrased it like that. But how the fuck else am I supposed to describe it? My soul or whatever is separated from my body, which basically makes me a ‘ghost’.” Scaramouche crosses his arms, still partially annoyed. “But... nevermind, actually.”

"You're not dead," Cycrille says firmly, eyes darkening despite his expression falling to stillness. "You're not. Your Vision still is lit up… you're not dead yet."

Scaramouche raises an eyebrow again, but doesn’t say anymore on that topic. “Anyways, I’ve been stuck hovering around the apartment. Since I ‘accidentally’ took a bit of Chero’s power, I can jump into your dreams sometimes.”

Cyrille holds him closer, refusing to put him down. "...how do we get you back?"

“Yeah... about that. I don’t fucking know.” Scaramouche nonchalantly shrugs. 

"...you don't know." Cyrille takes a slow, shuddering breath. "Okay. Okay…"

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve been trying. But it’s either I don’t have enough power, or only Chero can do it. Jumping into your dreams already has enough side effects anyways!” Scaramouche rubs his forehead, subconsciously leaning into Cyrille’s shoulder.

"...side effects?" He looks up sharply. "What side effects?"

“...did not mean to say that. Stupid brain.” Scaramouche rubs his forehead again. “But it’s nothing too severe—and it varies each time. Ranges from delusions to physical pain.”

Cyrille is quiet for a moment, looking past Scara into nothing. "How do we find Chero?"

“Oh, I know where he is. I just can’t get to where he is.”

"You can't, but what about me? Or Wanderer?"

Scaramouche hesitates. 

“I’d rather not have you two risk it. It’s... I can’t really describe too much to you without you lecturing me, but it’s just not safe.” 

Cyrille finally sets Scaramouche back on his feet, just so he can turn his back. "So it's fine for you to experience the backlash, but we aren't allowed to help? You wanted me to tell Wanderer that Chero is behind this, but he can't help get you back?"

“I wanted you to tell him so you two can stop making me want to fucking cry! It’s hard enough having to watch you two do- whatever the hell you two have been doing!” Scaramouche shuts his eyes for a bit, taking a deep breath. “The backlash is bad. I do not want you two to get hurt. Is that more understandable for you?”

Cyrille rounds on him, hands clenched into fists. "This already fucking hurts! You weren't even here for a week before you're in a coma again, you bastard!" He grabs a handful of his collar to pull his face down. "You keep leaving me, fucker! How else am I supposed to react? I'm worried the hell out of my mind for you constantly and there's never a damn thing I can do to help you! Is it because I'm too weak to defend myself? Because I'm some fucking cripple? What the hell do you expect from me? To roll over and let you take all the hits?"

Scaramouche can’t even stop the tears from falling this time. “I’m trying my hardest, okay? I’m trying to be nice so people can stop KILLING ME. But no matter what the fuck I do, this world has a way to fuck me over. It’s something new every time.” He pauses to take another deep breath, though it doesn’t actually do anything. “You’ve helped me far more than you give yourself credit for. Even if you weren’t crippled, I wouldn’t let you help me. You know why? Because it’s going to get you fucking killed.

“Remember those anons who said I was ‘cursed’? Well they were fucking right. Every time I have allowed myself to care for someone- to love someone, it has ended in nothing but misery. Hinadori died. Niwa died. Wanderer suffered for weeks. And now you! I have caused you so much pain and I’m not even trying to hurt you. I’d never hurt you. I love you too much to do that to you.”

Tightening his grip on Scara's collar, Cyrille presses his forehead against his chest. "Fucker." His voice is soft, hoarse even. "If you're cursed, so am I! Everyone… everyone I've ever cared about has died or abused me for their own sick gain… I thought, surely you, who at least was honest in your distaste at the beginning… who is strong enough not to die unless killed and even then not easily… surely it was safe to let myself care about you?"

He thumps his head more firmly against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to try and hold back tears, though he can't prevent his voice from choking up. "But again… I'm losing you again… I can't stand to just watch it happen, Scara. I don't think I'd survive losing you."

Scaramouche laughs through his own sobs, hugging Cyrille close. “Then I guess we’re both fucked, huh?”

Scaramouche attempts to take another deep breath, but ends up coughing instead. Another stupid side effect. As long as he kept taking deep breaths, it should be fine, right? It won’t be like the first time.

At the cough, Cyrille is immediately on alert, lifting his head and reaching to hold Scara's face, looking him over frantically. "What's wrong? Is this the backlash? Have… have you been here too long? Do I need to wake up?"

“It’s.. fine. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” Scaramouche coughs a second time. He doesn’t sound like he believes his own words.

"It's not fine, you are literally unconscious on my living room floor!"

“Okay, fair, but nothing will happen to my body out there. I only experience the pain here—or when I’m wandering the house. So it’s fine.”

A third cough.

"...you're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" Cyrille pushes himself away, looking around. "How do I wake up? You need a break."

Scaramouche coughs into his fist. When he pulls his hand away, there’s a red stain. “...yeah, I agree with you on that one. I might actually fucking die this time.” He sighs. “The last two times you woke up was because you got scared, I think. Either dream up something to scare you awake or try to force yourself up.”

"Well I'm fucking terrified already, and I'm still dreaming!" He starts to pace, frustration bringing more tears to his eyes that he has to hold back. "Fuck, can you leave while I'm still asleep? Am I hurting you by not waking up?"

Scaramouche closes his eyes for a bit, having to stop breathing for a while before he goes into a coughing fit. “Yes and no. I’m choosing to stay here, but I’m only stuck because you’re willing me to be here. I think.” Another cough. “As long as you want me here, I’m stuck. Even if you don’t want me to literally fall over and die, part of you doesn’t want me to go.”

Cyrille grabs his hair and tugs it, continuing to pace. "Fuck. I… what the fuck am I supposed to do, then? Of course I want you here, but I don't if it's only going to hurt you! Kill you even…" He pulls harder, then releases his grip to whirl around and face Scara again. "Hit me."

“...what?”

"Hit me. Maybe it'll wake me up… or make me mad enough briefly to not want you here. Hit me!"

“But what if it doesn’t even work? Then I would’ve hit you for nothing and it’ll stay in my conscience forever!” 

"If it doesn't work I'll deserve it anyway!" He clenches his fists, head down, whole body trembling with tension. "Just fucking hit me, goddamnit!"

Oh fuck, Scaramouche’s gonna start crying again. This is giving him a terrible headache.

“I can’t!” Scaramouche yells, mimicking Cyrille’s earlier action by grabbing his own hair. “I can’t, Cyrille. It doesn’t matter what I try. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

Cyrille turns away again, hunching in on himself and covering his face. "Why are you even here?" he murmurs. "If we can't do anything…"

Scaramouche really can’t respond—he’s on the verge of sinking into another hallucination that’s slowly forming. Forcing himself to calm the fuck down, he shakes out his hand.

“I just wanted to talk to you again. That’s all.”

"...maybe it would be better if you didn't. If you're only hurting yourself by being here… by being with me…"

Just like that, color starts to drain out of the dream and the edges start to fray, fading as Cyrille looks… so far away, suddenly. So small.

"I can't be the reason I lose someone else."

[pettyprocrastination]

whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!

this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!

warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her. 

So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak. 

You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work 

you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then 

nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place. 

On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after

it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him. 

but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening. 

its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail. 

Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn

its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench. 

there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency. 

when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-

all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river

Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay 

“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.” 

he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself. 

but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything

its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found. 

Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there. 

Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames. 

“We’re gonna find her, but not there.” 

So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did. 

He became a smuggler because of it. 

Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way. 

But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course. 

The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him. 

But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles 

“You think she would have wanted this for you?” 

the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence. 

“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.” 

All he can do is nod. 

It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit. 

It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live. 

Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago. 

its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo” 

when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them. 

Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands. 

He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face. 

Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity. 

“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?” 

Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be. 

But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.

“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.” 

Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again. 

“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.” 

He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples. 

“One.” 

The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun. 

“Two”

Wait. No, they both do.

“Three.” 

Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins. 

“Four.” 

Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet. 

Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?” 

Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless. 

Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.

When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same. 

She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head. 

“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”

He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun. 

“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?” 

[hyperionwitch-art]

Did you think I was done posting art today?? Let's officially ring in 2024 with the Terrible Kids! This time in Ald Ruhn, enjoying some delicious sauced meat on flatbread.

Tev/Dren Masterpost

[ineed-to-sleep]

*me immediately after going through a terrifying and traumatic experience* haha yeah I guess it was rough but I'm fine now like I'm totally chill. It was kinda funny actually if you think about it

[fucklife101]

I feel so unbelievably alone.

[astralhope]

Utopia protecting and worrying about Astral