#and also his death is only really vaguely implied

[thatmoththoth]

A fanfic for this Jon!distortion AU inspired by @jimsandfruit . This is just the prologue and I plan on adding more too this. Feedback and questions are greatly appreciated.

(Seriously tho this concept has so much potential)

Trigger Warning: the following story contains derealisation, dissasociation and a whole bunch of mental fuckery

Spoiler warning: potential spoilers for season 1-3 of the magnus archives. (And a lot of speculation and headcannons concerning the contents of the stated seasons)

Prologue

Jonathan Sims had just finished taking the poor disoriented Helen’s statement, and she was about to leave. Jon noticed that the door she was about to leave through was not always there. It was painted an ivory colour with a round purple doorknob which contrasted starkly with the dark stained wooden doors with silver handle knobs of the archive. “W-wait Helen!” he cried out, but it was too late, she had already gone through the door, and with hesitation, she turned her head to look at him thick with dread before the door slammed shut with a thud. For a long moment all he could do was stare at the door in disbelief. He needed to save her.

He stood up out of his chair and ran through the door to try and save her. Suddenly there was a strange headache inducing laughter echoing behind him before the door shut behind him.

He didn’t look back to see if the door was still there. Knowing what he knew from Helen’s statement about this place he was sure that he needn’t bother. Besides, he had to find her and couldn’t afford to waste any time. He ran through the hallways looking for her, seeking any trace of her, trying to get to her before this “micheal ” got to her first. There was no sign of her anywhere. He hadn’t run into a single other person in these halls despite having been here searching for hours. Still, like the stubborn fool he was, he pushed forwards.

He saw movement from the corner of his eye. Was it Helen, had he finally found her? He whipped around to look behind him but was instead greeted by that awful laughter.

Micheal.

“Oh Archivist… you really shouldn’t have come here.” that stupid grin was plastered on his stupid face.

“Where is she, Micheal!” he yelled with frustration, gritting his teeth as Micheals name was ushered from his lips. Jon didn’t have time for Micheals games.

“She is somewhere. Archivist, she's already long gone as far as it concerns you or I” laughter echoed through the twisted hallways. “It's already quite impossible for you two to ever reach, I’ve made quite sure of that.'' The contorted, twisting movements of Micheals body gave Jon a splitting headache.

“I wouldn't be too sure of that.” Jon responded with a spiteful tone, and Micheal laughed like it was some sort of joke. The laughter faded, and just like that he was gone. With much frustration Jon slammed his fist against the blue wallpaper, which was yellow before but was now red. His eye caught a piece of paper on the floor. It was yellow with age and had clearly seen quite a large amount of abuse. He walked to it and picked it up. He smoothed out the scrunched up paper and looked at the squiggly nonsensical lines that made perfect sense within these halls. It was a map. He had to follow it. Even if he wasn't sure where it led, there was still a certain air of importance in following it. It was the only sliver of hope he had left in finding Helen.

His eyes had a glint of hope as he began to follow the map. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew that it was taking him to some final destination, or that it was supposed to take him anywhere at all, but in these contorted and twisted halls it seemed to be the only tangible thing he had. He hoped the destination it led to was Helen, but deep inside his heart he knew that wasn’t true.

How long had he been here now? His mouth felt dry, from not drinking anything for who knows how long. Even so, something inside him knew this place wouldn’t let him die of natural causes. Fuzz began to creep into the corners of his mind.

To distract himself he started to say the directions out loud to no one in particular. For how long he did this he did not know.

“Left, left, Left, straight, through the window, break the mirror, down the stairs, right, right right……” the words were beginning to melt together as he spoke. He came to a realisation that he didn’t fully have the energy to comprehend the weight of. He couldn’t for the life of him remember his own name. Was it Charles? Wait no it started with J. James? Jack? Jonathan? Jim? They all seemed completely foreign to him. He couldn’t remember.

His eyes were zoned out, no longer frantically looking for answers like they almost always did. He was lost in his own head. He looked back at the map, it didn’t feel real as he held it in his hands. It was his only anchor in this messed up place, and even that couldn’t keep him grounded against the strong currents of the Sea of Dissociation, where each wave brought foreign things from another beyond onto his ship.

—-- He had aimlessly followed the map without thought for what felt like weeks. Finally it seemed he had reached his destination, the path had ended. All that lay in front of him was a mirror, he picked it up off the wall and looked into it. He recognised the face, it was supposed to be him, Jon. That was his name, right? But it wasn’t him. It was an eerie feeling looking into that mirror. Like looking at a doppelganger. He looked at where the mirror once was. There was a hole that stretched on for what felt like forever. He looked into the tunnel and saw something at the end. It was too far away to make out.

So he, like one did before, crawled through that tunnel. With each passing moment as he made it through that tunnel he could feel himself moving back further and further into his own head. Time faded away and became all but an illusion. As he got closer a sound got louder. It was like that of a beating heart. When he was almost to the end the sound was almost deafening, but still he pushed through. It was far too late to turn back now. When the end was finally reached he saw it in all its clarity.

It was the beating heart of the distortion. It sang to him, it called for him. He reached out and held it. It was a strange feeling to be holding such an impossible object. It was like every paradox was solved within it with yet another paradox. It didn’t look like a heart, not really, but he just knew in that dream-like manner of knowing, that it was the heart, the centre of it all.

He felt a tearing sense of agony go through him as his who was torn completely from his what. It was like he was torn apart and reassembled over and over again. He let out a pained cry of sheer and utter pain despite having no physical ability to scream as his body was forcefully twisted and contorted. His scream, and one other, could be heard all throughout the hallways. The distortion became Jon, and Jonanthan Sims became the distortion.

It was then that he remembered something he had all but forgotten. Helen. He needed to save helen. He ran through a door that was not there before. Jon called out for Helen and he heard her call back. He let out a sigh of relief. When he turned a corner he felt something run into him. It was Helen.

“Oh good heavens! Are you alright Helen?” Jon said worriedly..

“M-Michael? Get away from me!” she exclaimed, looking up at him with fright, not seeming to register the distortion's new identity.

“I’m not Micheal. It’s me, Jon” the mention of his own name felt wrong on his tongue.

Helen’s eyes cleared enough for her to fully take in what she was seeing. “J-Jon? But how? Why are you that… thing…?” her breathing slowly began to steady.

“I’ll explain when we get out here. This place isn’t good for you Helen.“ A door appeared next to them, and Jon picked Helen up with an ease he was not used to. When they were out of the room and back into Jon’s office he set her down. His office looked different from when he was here last. Dust had thickly layered on every surface it could, and everything had been put neatly away.

“... so are you going to tell me what happened Jon?” Helen’s tone was confused yet stern.

“Well, I went in after you, and I uh… ended up taking a shift in identity. Micheal is gone. permanently. I was him, but now I’m Jon, The Distortion.” Helen gave him a confused glare. “I’m not making sense am I?” Helen shook her head. “Well it makes perfect sense to me.” he mumbled, folding his arms and looking to the side with mild defiance. He couldn’t seem to explain it in words people could understand. “I’m sorry it took so long to save you.” He let out a exhausted sigh. -”I-I just don’t know where to go from here.” he sat in his chair, struggling to fit in it comfortably. “You should just go home and try to forget this all ever happened Helen. One more thing, please don’t tell anyone about what happened to me, or mention that I was ever in there. It’ll be what’s best for both of us.”

“Ok… Goodbye Jon…” Helen said, very confused but feeling as if she now owed something to Jon for saving her. Helen left the room and Jon was left to ponder.

What was he going to do now? He couldn’t just continue work as normal, no not when he’s been missing for who knows how long and and especially not when he looked like this. How were Tim, Sasha, and Martin going to react? Sasha… he remembered something, something from before he was Jon and from when he was Micheal. The real Sasha was dead. His friend was gone. Did the others know that she had been replaced? A pang of sadness washed over him. She had died and he hadn’t even noticed. He began to feel sorry for Tim for putting him at the top of his suspect list.

Suddenly his phone rang. He debated on whether or not to answer it, before eventually hitting the answer button and holding it to his ear with long fingers.. “Hello?”

“Jon, we need to talk.” It was Elias. He didn’t sound too pleased.

“Hello Elias…” he paused, remembering from michaels past what his boss was. “You want to talk to me about my recent… changes… yes?” there was a slight shakiness to his voice

Elias let out a sigh. “Come to my office. Now.” there was a certain finality to his voice. Jon thought for a moment.

“Why should I?”

“I had a feeling you would be difficult. Let me phrase it differently. Come to my office, or I kill Tim.” that shut Jon up very quickly. There was a beep as he hung up the phone. The time was long after hours. He put his phone in his pocket before he cautiously made his way to Elias’s office. Jon took a deep breath before going through the door of his boss’s office.

“So, what do you want from me Elias?”

“You have no idea how much your little show of heroics has cost me, Jon. I can’t get a new Archivist because you're still alive… and still the Archivist.”

“So what do you want from me then?” Even though he could now easily overpower Elias if it came down to it, at least physically, he was still terrified of the man, even more so now that he remembers what he did to Gertrude.

“I want you to keep working in the archive as normal. I told everyone you had gone missing and were presumed dead, assuming you wouldn’t end up returning. I’ll tell them you had a bad encounter with the paranormal, and that they shouldn’t pester you about it. Please just try your best to act relatively normal or so help me.”

“I suppose I could do that.” he didn’t want to, but it wasn’t like Elias was giving him much choice in the matter.

“Great, now please leave my office. you're giving me a headache.” He said in annoyed tone as he gestured towards the door

“Gladly.” Jon responded spitefully, before leaving, and heading back to his house.

Elias’s plans had been shattered, leaving him to put the pieces back together as best he could.

[sanguinesmi1e]

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 (you're here)

Full fic on Ao3

Art of LBM

Pt. 4: An Unexp-ectoed Party (not on Ao3 yet)

Constantine was quietly freaking out. He couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that the ghost who had turned itself into a cute little tatzelwurm to avoid answering questions might be something far beyond his capabilities to deal with. Everything it said and did suggested it was way outside his scope of experience. While Tim used a shoelace to play with it like a rambunctious kitten, John mentally catalogued the things that threatened to give him a panic attack:

Before the ghost even arrived, the blinding power flowing through his spell array nearly knocked him flat. It had felt like being swatted in the eyeballs by an eldritch god.

The ghost appeared in human form, fully alive, before being transformed by the summoning magic. John had only ever heard whispers of legends about a being who could do such a thing. The legends were vague and grandiose, but some epithets included The One Who Walks Between, He Who Straddles Life and Death, Twilight Walker, Shroud Danger Child, and The Halver. 

The ghost could not only see his soul at a glance, it could perceive all the damage he had done making deals with demons.

The ghost implied it was on casual, friendly terms with the Ancient of Time aka Chronos, Kala, Father Time, etc. And that it had altered the timeline at least once already.

It could age. Despite what the ghost said, only Neverborn should be able to age. The dead were static, and given the death that he could feel sustaining the portal, this ghost had definitely died.

It was brilliant enough to pinpoint a weakness and successfully distract Tim by transforming into a shape that could manipulate his protective instincts. John did not want to admit that he also felt protective of the cute little blighter.

It had hopped out of the summoning circle as if it were just chalk scribbles, despite John working in some of his most powerful containment spells as a matter of what he had thought was excessive precaution.

Shite, the list had already reached seven items. The tatzelwurm (had Drake really just named the thing Little Baby Man?) glared at him and called him “Gross!” 

“Seriously!? This cloaking spell should be more than sufficient.” John grumbled. “Did it really have no effect?” If so, that was gonna be item number eight.

Little Baby Man tilted his head. “It worked.” Then he huffed with amusement. 

Thank fuck for small blessings. 

A quickly muttered spell turned his burning cigarette into a makeshift sort of laser pointer, and Constantine distracted Little Baby Man while he tried to think of what to do next.

“Hey kid, this is a problem.” He kept his voice low, and watched to see if the tatzelwurm appeared to pay any attention to him. It dedicated all its attention to the glowing dot, and ignored the two men.

“I assume this isn’t the normal direction your interrogations go.” Drake wound his shoelace around his hand and pocketed it. “It’s certainly a first for me.”

“Ditto, in so many ways.”

“Any idea what to do now?”

“We should probably return him where he came from, and wait for Zatanna to get back from wherever she’s disappeared to now.” John would really like a second opinion. He would also like to dump this mess in someone else’s lap and be on his way. 

Although to be fair, watching the tatzelwurm careen around after his lazer dot was actually pretty fun. Not that he’d ever admit it. Still, the creature was done answering questions and John wasn’t prepared to bind the thing because he didn’t think he’d need to pack the tools to bind an eldritch god when Batman called him to do a “quick consult.”

Danny couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. The CEO person played with him! He did feel a bit bad for hurting his foot, but it was difficult to dwell on regrets or worries when he could attack the string instead. And now there was a red dot to chase! It was very fast and sneaky, but he was faster and sneakier.

Is this what Paulina felt like when she wished herself to be a giant chibi version of herself to be loved and worshipped by everyone? Because he felt adorable. And fierce. He was going to kill that red dot so hard when he finally sunk his claws in it!

Frustratingly, it seemed to also have intangibility powers. Well, Danny knew what to do about that! He concentrated ectoplasm into his paw and bapped it down hard on the dot. This scorched the floor a bit, but when he lifted his paw, the red dot was skewered on one of his claws. It tried to tug away, but he clung tight. Apparently its size belied its strength, because it started to drag him across the floor. 

Danny tried to release the dot, but his claw was firmly snagged, so he resigned himself to being dragged back into the chalk circle. He tingled a bit as he crossed the perimeter, but it wasn’t a bad sensation, just a little odd. Then a portal opened up and pulled him through the water filled tube snake toy sensation in reverse and ugh! Just as bad the second time, if not worse.

The spell spat him out in human form under the Specter Speeder. Or rather, it ejected him at speed so he smacked into the bottom of the Speeder before falling back to the ground with a heavy thud. Thankfully he didn’t crack his head against the concrete, but he still couldn’t stifle a pained groan.

A firm hand wrapped around Danny’s ankle and dragged him out, and he found himself staring up at Drake and Constantine for the third time that day.

“Uh, hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I have some explaining to do.”

Being able to create ghost portals would come in real handy right about now. Maybe he should just commit some arson and let these two deal with escaping the basement on their own.

[codenamesazanka]

the thing is. Shigaraki dies with literally like three people left in the world to mourn him. Shigaraki dies without a body and a proper funeral or burial. Shigaraki dies leaving nothing - no possessions, no photographs, nothing but last words to his friend that must be given by his killer.

Yeah, Shigaraki killed people, but I just feel like. Those people still have a number of family and friends to mourn them. Those people likely left behind something to remember them by. Shigaraki has barely anything like that, largely because a villain (that no Hero saved him from) made sure of that, and the sheer unfairness of that hurts.

Shigaraki dies because the guy who said he wanted to save him (his inner child) directly contributes to his death - his supposed savior is also his killer. Because in a hero-saturated society, no one noticed a missing Shimura Tenko for 15 fucking years. All Might takes down organized crime and AFO's empire and never knew AFO's cultivated children existed.

Shigaraki dies because Deku, the Hero who says he wants to try "saving" Shigaraki/The Crying Child, tells at most 3 living people (Uraraka - "I can't ignore what I saw"; implied to have told Gran Torino his plan, to which Gran says 'killing is salvation'; maybe All Might, but we never see even a hint of this), and no one else. Plans with no one else. Stays silent when Gran advises him to kill Shigaraki, when Heroes draw up plans for a SKY COFFIN DEATH ARENA, when Heroes strategize about how AFO is a better opponent to face, implying the possession victim should stay possessed.

Deku talks about not ignoring the Crying Child inside of Shigaraki, wanting to save that Crying Little Boy, but then you realize he never even approaches the idea of saving Shigaraki from AFO's fucking possession. Never tries to save Shigaraki from AFO, the immediate priority - only saving Shigaraki from his own self-loathing, essentially putting the blame on Shigaraki himself. At best maybe saving the Crying Child has the vague, inherent idea of freeing Shigaraki from the possession, but in the end, it's really Shigaraki who breaks free of it on his own, with help from his League.

Shigaraki dies, and Deku now gets sympathy for feeling guilt about killing him, because isn't that so gracious of him? For thinking about his dangerous, deranged enemy? For promising not to forget the guy he half-heartedly claimed to want to save, and then only half-succeeded? For acknowledging his own failure? The greatest Hero.

Shigaraki dies in such an unjust way. But we're supposed to applaud Deku for his efforts in contributing to this death.

*as always, substitute how much blame you want to give Horikoshi for writing Deku so badly in Act 3, though imo Deku's been a shithead since Chapter 1

[roosterr]

murphy's law

a/n: ive had this idea in my head for a while so i decided to dump it out of my brain for all of you to enjoy. somewhat inspired by lunarvicar's amazing wonderful fic to the flame i really love her writing so check it out yo also i haven't written anything in years so cut me some slack :')

pairing: captain john price x gn!reader

summary: when a simple mission goes south, you get left behind in the confusion. you just can't seem to catch a break.

no use of y/n, callsign is 'vantage'

no physical description, but reader is (very) vaguely implied to be shorter than price

warnings: descriptions of injury (nothing too graphic), canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, minor character death, i don't know how the military works lmao, lots of swearing bc i can't help myself

word count: 8.6k

read it on ao3 here

✹✹✹

it was a straightforward mission; in and out, grab what you need, and you'd be home in time for dinner. nothing you hadn't handled before.

ghost and price were on overwatch; the lieutenant was positioned with his rifle on a rooftop across the street, whilst the captain stayed in the suv with a laptop to keep an eye on the surveillance cameras around the exterior of the building.

you'd had your eyes on this intel for months now, biding your time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. your opening had finally arrived, and with all that time spent planning, it was going so well.

that should have been the first red flag.

the second, more apparent, warning sign was that anything you found as you, gaz, and soap swept the building was either something you already knew, or irrelevant. how was that possible? the location of this facility was a heavily guarded secret, you'd fought tooth and nail to find it; why spend so much effort hiding something which had such little value?

you'd ventured to the second floor, up the damp stairwell and further into the eerily quiet building. there must be something worth hiding here, you just had to find it. you certainly weren't planning on going home empty handed.

you paused your movement into the dark, staring down the empty corridor through the sights of your gun. you felt your stomach turn, and swallow down the sick taste of bile in your throat. for everything you'd done to get here…

it was going so… well.

bringing your hand to the radio on your chest, you don't bother to calm the shake in your voice before speaking.

"does this feel off to anyone–"

you're cut off by price's shouting, a twinge of panic in his voice you aren't used to hearing from him.

"fuck– it's an ambush! get out of there, now!"

you're about to respond, when you hear gunshots from below you. soap and gaz were downstairs, where the hostiles were pouring into the building, and you were on your own upstairs.

the shots from ghost's rifle make your ears ring, even from across the street.

"vantage, get yer arse down here, there's too many of 'em!" soap's yelling brings you out of your haze, and you can't find the energy to respond as you take off running, back to the stairs you came up. "shit– man down! gaz is hit! they're coming up, vantage!"

you just about register what he said when the door to the stairway bursts open only a few metres ahead of you. diving into the nearest open room, you narrowly avoid a bullet to the gut, and slam the door shut behind you.

shit. fuck. fucking shit.

you counted at least four hostiles up here, and with gaz injured, soap would most likely be dragging him back to the suv you all arrived in, where price was waiting, which meant…

you really were alone.

well, ghost was out there, but he was a man of self preservation. he wouldn't risk coming in here to save you. not when you were this fucked.

your chest felt tight, now, and you could hear the enemies shouting on the other side of the wall. come on, you plead with yourself, do something!

snapping your head to look around the room you'd trapped yourself in, your eyes linger on the filing cabinets lining the wall next to you. you can drag them over here, barricade the door. 

prolong your survival, or delay the inevitable.

you hadn't noticed how hard your nails were digging into your palms until you went to grip the cabinet. the half-moon divots stung against the cool metal as you heaved it in front of the door.

now the hostiles are outside, rattling the wall with their attempts to kick the door down.

you drag another one, for safe measure. you pray they'll be heavy enough.

through the blood rushing in your ears, you can just about make out price's voice.

"vantage, answer me dammit! what is your bloody status!"

"i'm good– i'm good," you manage to get out between pants, never once taking your eyes off the door. willing your heartbeat to slow down. "not injured, just– stuck in a room upstairs."

"that doesn't sound good to me."

it all went quiet when he spoke to you. at first you thought it was just because your focus had shifted– because it was him– but it really was quiet now.

"yeah, i… they're– wait, they're not at the door anymore, they…"

hold on.

what?

"ghost, you got eyes? what's happenin' over there?" there's a sense of urgency to your captain's voice, and for a single selfish moment, you think he might be worried for you beyond that of a just soldier. your frenzied mind lingers on that thought.

the gruff voice of ghost brings you back to reality,

"they're setting charges– vantage, you need to find a way out."

charges. explosives.

all you can muster is a half-hearted, "shit…"

deep down, you know that isn't going to happen. you wouldn't have time to run down the stairs, and even if you did you'd only be walking right into their bullets. there's nothing they can do to help. and you think, deep down, they know that too.

this is it, then, you think to yourself, am i really going to die like this?

and for another fleeting moment, you're filled with regret that you would never get to see john's face again. all the stolen glances, lingering touches, inside jokes; none of it would ever amount to anything. would he remember you? would he even come back for your dog tags?

the tightness is back in your heart, but it's different this time.

your eyes still don't leave the door as your back hits the wall. the faint moonlight gives the room a soft glow, serene, and your heart sinks further into your stomach.

the moonlight;

the window, the outside.

not an ideal escape route, but these were hardly ideal circumstances.

you didn't waste a second with hesitation and backed up for a running start. you thank every deity you can think of that you always insisted on wearing a helmet.

this was going to hurt, but it was better than the alternative.

"van, you have to get out, please!" you're not even sure who's talking in your ear anymore, but you know who you want it to be.

for him, you think to yourself, i have to make it back to him.

with a deep breath, you take off into a sprint, tucking your head into your elbow and diving shoulder first through the glass.

as you free fall out the second storey window, you think you hear john calling your name, your real name, and you think you feel a flutter in your chest. it was almost peaceful.

and then you hit the ground.

with a thump and a sickening crack, you rolled unceremoniously and ended up on your side, in the snowy alleyway behind the building you were just trapped in; the building that was about to be demolished. your elbow muffled your pained cry.

right, explosives, the reason you jumped to begin with.

your teammates are still going berserk in your ear, yelling at each other or you or both, but you can't bring yourself to respond. you could answer them once you were a safe distance away– and when you could breathe without heaving. as you stand, swaying on your feet, you feel your ribs shift in a way they definitely aren't supposed to, filling you once again with the innate urge to vomit.

but you swallow that down; it'll have to wait, you need to get as far away as possible, now.

your hands braced your broken ribs– and you notice, then, that your shoulder is killing you too– as you stumble down another alley, leading away from the building. you slip and almost fall on the untouched snow, but somehow manage to catch yourself. in the back of your mind, you notice you lost your rifle at some point. you'd have to survive with just your pistol.

for a moment, you almost felt that you'd gotten away, that you'd made the perfect escape.

of course, it was too perfect.

the charges finally went off. you were thrown forward, and despite your helmet, everything went black.

✹✹✹

your ribs flared with agony at the ragged breath you took, blinking your eyes open as consciousness returned to you. darkness swarmed your vision, contrasting the pure white of the snow that was slowly freezing your extremities, and you fought with every bit of self-restraint you had not to cry. your eyes stung anyway.

how long were you out? you were still in the alley, and you hadn't been found by anyone yet, so it couldn't have been long. i need to move, is the only thought swirling in your head. with what little strength you could muster, you rolled yourself onto your back to look at the ruins behind you.

dust filled the air and coated everything in sight, obscuring your vision almost fully; but what you could make out, was the lights from your enemy's guns as they swept the rubble.

looking for you, presumably.

shit shit shit.

you had god knows how many broken ribs, your shoulder was fucked, and now your vision was swimming, and to top it all off you could barely hear yourself think over the violent ringing in your ears. this night just kept getting better and better.

it took everything in you not to scream at the agony as you dragged yourself behind a fallen dumpster, sitting up against the cold brick of the building behind you in an attempt to catch your breath.

in. out. in. out.

in.

out.

every move had your bones creaking in protest, the longer you sat here the more you felt every little cut and bruise and shard of glass littering your body. the dust in the air tickled your throat and threatened to make you cough up a lung, spots in your vision danced like fireflies, luring you back into the clutches of sleep.

no… i can't rest yet, you urged yourself to fight your drooping eyelids, i have to get back to the suv… they're waiting… for me…

the crunch of debris under heavy boots snaps you back to the present.

someone was approaching.

the optimist in you wanted to believe it was price, coming to rescue you. but you couldn't take that chance. your hand grips the pistol on your hip, drawing it out slowly to make as little noise as possible.

the shadowed figure came stumbling into view. your arm straightened to aim at their unprotected head, eyes wide and breathing laboured.

the man– the boy– locked eyes with you, flinging himself backwards to the wall opposite you with his hands held high.

your expression hardened. he was your enemy. his uniform made that clear. for a moment, neither of you moved, you weren't even sure if he was breathing anymore. like two wild animals, locked in a staredown, each of you waiting for the other to make the first move. which one of you was the hunter, and which one was the prey?

shooting him will draw his comrades over here. sparing him means he can call them over himself. a lose-lose.

lost in your internal debate as you stare at him, you vaguely notice his hand lowering to his belt, and in a moment of panic, your heart clenches in time with your finger to deliver a shot right between his eyes.

his body slid down the wall, a perfect mirror of your own as the life fades from his expression.

shit. again.

his friends must’ve heard that. with renewed, adrenaline fueled vigour, you scramble across the alley, and begin rifling through the packs on his chest and belt.

a twinge of guilt fills you as you notice his empty holsters. he wasn't even armed.

shaking your head, you find what you're looking for; a morphine shot. at least, that's what it looked like, the words on the label were swimming with the concussion you surely had. it would have to do.

you take the syringe carefully, and stick the end into the muscle of your thigh, through a rip in your pants you hadn't noticed before, and inject the solution. it would take a minute to kick in, but hopefully the painkiller would help you at least make it back to the suv where your team was waiting.

where price was waiting. god you hoped they were okay, him especially, though he was probably in the least danger of you all. what you wouldn't give to have stayed in the car with him.

pocketing the empty syringe, you spare another glance at the boy's face. his wide, lifeless eyes. the pack he was reaching for. the same one you found the morphine in.

he… was going to help you. and you'd killed him.

oh god. the realisation has your stomach turning for the third time that day.

you pressed his eyes shut and pushed yourself to stand. as you trudge your way to the far end of the alley, you keep your eyes forward. there wasn't time to linger.

with a deep breath, you steel yourself and begin to make your way through the cold, abandoned streets of the small town. the suv wasn't far, only a couple blocks away. it wouldn't take you long to get there, even with your injuries.

somewhere in the distance, you could hear terrified screaming, presumably the residents who were forced awake by the sound of the explosion.

now that the ringing had died down, you realise that you hadn't heard your teammates in a while. absent-mindedly, you bring a hand up to press the comms, and you almost start talking before you feel the plastic crunch under your fingers.

"oh for fucks sake."

of fucking course your radio was broken. it must have been crushed when you were flung forward by the explosion.

brilliant.

whatever, the suv would be in your sight soon anyway, you don't need it.

the cover of night made it significantly easier to hobble through the streets unseen, thanks to your all black gear. the enemy were still hovering around the destroyed building, but at least that meant they thought you were buried under there. hopefully they would stay distracted long enough for you to make it back.

god, fuck, you really couldn't wait to get back to base. you desperately needed a shower hot enough to melt your skin to scrub off all the dirt and blood from your body. the morphine had started to kick in now, but you still felt your ribs shift unnaturally with every heavy step. you'd definitely need a few weeks off to recover from this one, and you’d probably get an earful from the captain. you’d kill to hear his voice right now, even if he was yelling at you for being an idiot.

only a little further. then you’d be back with the safety of your team, with this godforsaken place in the rear view mirror. with the promise of being able to rest, your limbs seemed to grow heavier as the exhaustion finally made its way into your bones.

except, when you turn the final corner, you freeze, an ice-cold dread sweeping through your veins.

the car was gone.

it wasn’t there.

they weren’t there.

there was a stretch of tarmac that fresh snow just beginning to fall had yet to cover, tire-tracks that showed the u-turn the suv had done, blood on the snow from– you assume– gaz, empty bullet casings from the fight they put up.

but no suv.

no teammates.

no john.

no. no, no no no. they couldn’t have left you. that wasn’t how you did things in the 141. it was no man left behind, you knew that. maybe they’re just circling the area, you rationalised, desperately trying to calm your ragged breathing, yeah, they went to look for me. they wouldn’t leave me behind.

but they weren't here.

and as you followed the tire-tracks down the street, they didn’t go back into the town. they made a straight line, directly to the dirt track leading into the wilderness, clear as day in the snow. back the way you had all gotten here earlier that night.

your knees dampen from the snow, the painkiller in your system keeping you from feeling the impact. when did you fall over? there was no attempt to stop the searing hot tears this time as they ran through the dirt caked to your face. your throat constricted, lifting a hand to your mouth to muffle your hyperventilating.

they were gone.

long gone, without you.

they really had left you behind.

a mumble from somewhere to your left interrupts your breakdown. grief morphs into blinding rage for a split second; can i get a fucking break? you swing your arm still holding the pistol to point at whoever was watching you, twisting your abdomen in a way that has you gritting your teeth.

a woman, clutching her young son, shielding his eyes and ears from you.

you lower your gun. that’s not a mistake you’ll make twice. catching her eyes, you gesture for her to be quiet, which is quickly met with her frantic nodding.

it reminds you, you’re still not safe here. you were supposed to be, but hey, it looks like plans change. no man left behind– what a load of horseshit. you push yourself onto shaky legs, you only had a few hours until the morphine wore off, and you needed to be out of here before that happened. as fast as you could possibly muster, you begin to stumble towards the dirt track that disappears into the treeline, following the slowly disappearing tire-tracks.

✹✹✹

you managed to make it into the woods faster than you expected, and you found a fallen tree slightly off the path to take shelter behind while you licked your wounds. literal and metaphorical.

this was unbelievable. how could they leave you like that? if they’d only taken the time to do a quick lap of the building, they would’ve found you laying face down in the snow, and this whole mess could have been avoided. where were they off to in such a hurry anyway? it’s not like you guys had found anything sensitive. 

oh, wait. gaz was shot. that had briefly slipped your mind. perhaps you were being a little selfish by getting so worked up by this, but then again, for all they knew you could have been in the same condition– or worse. they…

your breath hitched. and not from your injuries.

they thought you were dead. that would make sense, in the chaos of everything, and amidst your panic, you didn’t really do a good job keeping up with answering your comms. still though, you were definitely going to rip them all a new one when you got back; or maybe it would be the other way around.

either way, you couldn’t sit here and dwell on it all night. you needed to make it to the safehouse before they flew back to base. if you missed them this time, you really were well and truly fucked.

✹✹✹

"i've gotta be at least half-way by now," you lament, flopping down against another tree with a grunt in an attempt to calm the burning in your legs and chest. the morphine had worn off about a few hours ago, and you were finally feeling all the bleeding wounds you'd ignored before. nothing lethal, you hoped, aside from your shoulder, ribs, and splitting headache, it was mostly just a lot of glass in your skin.

when you left the town, it must have been just past midnight, and at this pace it would be well after morning before you made it back. you could just about see the first signs of dawn poking through the cloud layer.

the snow had gotten heavier, casting a haze over the horizon, but it hadn't escalated into a storm yet. even under all your gear, the cold was starting to bite at your limbs. your lack of gloves was a decision you were coming to regret; if you lost any fingers because of this you really were going to kill price.

"fuck, he thinks i'm dead…" you groan as you stare up at the sky. snowflakes catch in your eyelashes and threaten to freeze the tears as they well up in your eyes. was he as distraught as you currently were, you wonder? was he even moved at all, or were you just another soldier, just more paperwork he had to fill out?

being in love with your captain was so, so difficult. a mistake, most would say, and you used to tell yourself the same thing. but after knowing him, seeing the vulnerable parts of him he keeps closely guarded, you can't bring yourself to care. seeing his expression when you gifted him the cigars you bought for him, learning his favourite drink when you all went out after missions, trading stories over paperwork in his office late at night. even after everything you've been through together, you know, in your heart, he doesn't feel the same; he's your superior, you're his sergeant, and he is nothing if not an honest man. it can never work between you two. but despite it all, the only regret you have as you sit bleeding in the snow, is that you never told him how you felt.

please, don't leave me here… 

in the back of your mind, you know they wouldn't go home without at least id-ing your body, but you were so shaken by the ongoing near death experience that your train of thought wasn't making much sense anymore.

the distant whirr of a helicopter snapped you back to reality. maybe it was… no, the 141 didn't have a helicopter here, which could only mean it was a hostile one. fucking fantastic. where you were slumped was right at the edge of the road, with very little cover from above. you needed to move further off the path, under the protection of the forest canopy.

with a laboured grunt, you pulled yourself back onto your feet, using the tree behind you as a crutch until you could catch your breath again. the helicopter was getting nearer now, close enough that you could almost make out the spotlight through the falling snow.

a brief jog was all you could manage to get away from the road. the snow wasn't deep enough to leave tracks that would be noticeable from the air, not through the shade of darkness. you still as the helicopter passes overhead. there's no change in its course, and you huff a breath of relief. at least you wouldn't have to try and outrun a chopper.

you watch the helicopter's silhouette fade into the night sky. there was nothing to do but carry on. you needed to get to the safehouse.

this was going to be a long night.

✹✹✹

hours, it had been hours since you first set off, so long in fact that it was essentially daytime. the sun hadn't fully risen, casting the world in a dim light that was just dark enough to keep you tripping over roots and holes in the ground.

the snow had let up a while ago, but the overcast clouds had stayed, the perfect match to your steadily declining mood. you thought you felt like shit earlier? if only you could have predicted how much worse it would get. you were acclimated to the pain by now, it reduced to a constant throbbing where your bones were broken. perhaps the icy temperature around you was numbing your injuries; it was either that or the shock.

ahead, you recognised a set of worn tire-tracks making a hard turn through a gap in the forest. there was no way of knowing it was the right way, but a spark of optimism ignites in your chest. maybe you were finally getting close. you just had to pray that your sense of direction was good enough to be leading you in the right direction.

you were right on top of the tracks now, and upon closer inspection, the pattern of the treads might just match the ones on the suv; you've had to fix that damn car so many times you'd know it in your sleep. they were messy, the snow making it hard to pick out, but you needed the hope right now.

this had to be them.

you go to continue down the clear path, to follow where your team had gone, but your luck just doesn't improve.

the mud slides under your foot, catching your ankle and toppling you in your attempt to struggle through. the breath is forced from your lungs as you impact the ground. you cry out through gritted teeth, feeling the strain of your muscles twisting far further than they're supposed to.

pain strikes through your ankle like lightning. drawing a breath is almost impossible from the pressure of your ribs. as you fight to sit up, the mud fights to drag you back down like quicksand.

fuck. another injury to slow you down.

muddy snow covers you from head to toe, the stabbing pain in your shoulder coming back in full force.

was that a car? the low rumbling from the direction you came from drew your attention, and you faintly see beams of headlights through the darkness. you momentarily forgot about your injuries, a frenzied panic making your blood run cold. another patrol. i need to go.

then, as you struggle to get up and out of sight, you feel a concerning pop from your kneecap, and you don't even have to look to know it's dislocated.

but there was no time to check the damage, you had to hide, now, or the truck would reach you and you'd have a lot more problems on your hands. you scramble onto your hands and knees, and yank your ankle free of the wet mud, practically throwing yourself behind the undergrowth just in time for the truck to round the bend.

your ribs are displaced again, injecting fresh pain into the shuddering breath you took, on top of your newly twisted ankle and dislocated kneecap bent uncomfortably beneath you.

it's a miracle you were able to keep quiet as the vehicle passed by.

by some stroke of luck, or just divine stupidity, your enemies drive straight past the space in the trees and your hiding spot. the headlights cast ominous shadows as they cruise by, but they didn't see you.

struggling to your feet once again, this time you give the muddy path a wide berth as you make your way deeper into the forest.

✹✹✹

one foot in front of the other. dragging your injured leg behind you. cradling your broken ribs.

just keep going.

limping through the mud took every resource your body had left, the effort of keeping upright was almost more than you could take.

how much longer could you possibly go, before you can't get back up again?

you couldn't lose hope.

ahead of you, a break in the sea of trees.

just one foot in front of the other. that's all you need. it's all you can do.

closer, stepping out into the open, squinting against the sun.

against the pale light of the morning sky, you see a dark shape. a building? you couldn't tell, you could only pray it was the warehouse you'd been longing for.

one foot in front of the other.

closer still, despite the bone-deep exhaustion in every limb. you could make it out now, the rusted metal siding and fresh tire-tracks in the mud. you were right there.

you taste the salt before you realise you're crying. 

almost,

somewhere between the agony, you hear yourself think,

still too early to celebrate.

your heart stutters. they were here, they had to be.

they had to be.

one foot in front of the other.

closer again, you focus on the keypad beside the door. your ankle twists uncomfortably as it drags along the gravel.

the handle became your crutch as you mustered the energy to lift your arm to enter the code.

seeing double, vision swaying as the edges fade.

a distant beep. a red light turning to green.

the handle turns under your weight, and the door swings open.

you find the floor coming up fast.

voices are all around you.

you give in to unconsciousness.

✹✹✹

the distinct hospital smell is what rouses you from your deep, dreamless sleep. hands prod at your busted ribs, drawing a scratchy groan from your dry throat. you grab the wrist of whoever is there as you fight to open your eyes.

"sergeant vantage?" they call out to you, and you realise with a disappointed sigh that it's the medic and not your captain. you open your eyes fully and see her standing above you with a clipboard in one hand. apart from her, you're alone in the medical wing. she notices you looking around, and looks down at the clipboard as she continues,  "glad to see you finally awake. your teammate gaz got off pretty lucky, the bullet went clean through his leg. you on the other hand, i'm impressed you made it back at all."

your ankle is in a boot and elevated on some pillows, and you can feel your knee is tightly bandaged under the blankets. an ache starts to form in your shoulder at the effort of holding your arm up.

"vantage, i need you to let go of my wrist." she says, and after an awkward pause you free her from your hold.

"sorry doc…" you mumble, bringing both hands up to your face and observing the tiny cuts littering your skin. you let them flop down to your sides again, but the aching doesn't subside.

"how are you feeling?" she breaks the momentary quiet, setting her clipboard down on the table next to your bed, "want me to get you anything?"

"i'd kill for some water…" you wheeze, the dehydration was catching up to you.

"alright, i'll be right back," the doctor affirms, making her way to the door. she turns back to look you in the eyes with a stern expression before she leaves, "please don't go anywhere."

and with that, the door clicks shut and you're left truly alone with your thoughts again.

your bones creak as you push yourself to sit up, your movements sluggish still with exhaustion, and you're reminded of just how badly you were hurt. everything aches, and it feels as though you'd been asleep for years.

gaz was okay, that's a relief. a little insulting that he got shot and was still in better condition than you, but whatever.

you look around the room for something, anything, to take your mind off the pain, and your eyes eventually land on the table beside you. a few cards sat on top, all with some variation of get well soon on the front, along with a small vase of flowers. you pick up the card closest to you and open it to read the scratchy handwriting inside.

'i swear you could survive a nuke, you're like a cockroach! get better soon, lots of love, soap! xxxxx'

what a charmer soap was. you chuckle at his lighthearted message, he always did try to keep your spirits up in times like these. as you place the card back where it was, your gaze is drawn to the empty chair next to your bed. there was a thin blanket folded over the back, probably left by whoever was last sitting there.

your mind begins to wander; how long were you out? your teammates clearly visited, does that mean price did too? you feel your stomach flutter at the thought of him worrying for you, watching over you as you recover. and if he fell asleep at your bedside? the heart monitor might call the doctor back if this train of thought continues. but then again, you doubted he'd be that forward, he would most likely be buried in paperwork like he usually is after a mission. and the mission you just came back from would require more paperwork than most.

because they… left you behind. that's right. you had to walk yourself back to the safehouse on all your injuries. who knows how long you were walking for but it must have been at least ten hours, considering the sun had risen by the time you got there. the butterflies were swiftly melted by the hot anger rising within you.

you were going to give him a piece of your mind, just like you promised.

all thoughts of the pain you were feeling are out of your head as you fling the blanket off your lower body. you grip your injured leg and lift it over the edge of the bed, swinging your other leg to plant both feet on the floor.

just as you were about to pull yourself up to stand, the door opens again and the medic walks in with your water bottle in her hand. she stops, an icy look in her eyes as she observes what you're doing.

you look back at her, debating whether you should give it up and lay back down, but your anger quickly wins over. the heart monitor picks up again as you work yourself up.

"i swear to god, if you don't sit back down right now," she makes her way over, setting the water down on the table you were using as a crutch. you meet her eyes indignantly, and go to step around her anyway. "no! you need to rest!" the doc puts her hands on your shoulders, and she stops your movement embarrassingly easily.

"fuck that," you croak, your voice still hoarse, "where's captain shithead? i need a word."

she maneuvers you back into sitting on the edge of the bed, and hands you the water. you keep your sour expression, but still drink half the bottle in one go.

"i assume you mean captain price? he's in his office, hasn't come out since you all got back." she takes the bottle from you when you're done, setting it down again, before moving to take the iv out of your arm. if she feels your glare, she doesn't acknowledge it. "whatever it is, it can wait."

"yeah right, i got a few strong words for him, and he is gonna hear 'em."

the doc hesitates as she works.

"i don't know exactly what happened out there, but i think you should know… that he hasn't visited you," she speaks softly, watching your angry expression fall. "your other teammates did, i even saw ghost sneaking out of here one night, but you didn't hear that from me."

silence overcame the small room again as her words sunk in. he left you for dead, and now he was avoiding you? even ghost visited you, and you'd barely had a single conversation with him. your heart feels tight again, the same way it did when you were trapped in that building.

"how long was i out?" your voice is low, almost a whisper.

"two days."

you should have listened to all the people who told you loving him was a bad idea. you'd almost died, and he still didn't visit you? that stung. god, you haven't even been awake an hour and you already want to throw up.

i guess i really don't mean that much to him, huh?

you think back to the night before the mission, when you'd sat with john while he did paperwork. at first, he tried to convince you to get some sleep, 

"you wanna be well rested, love."

but you stayed anyway, saying that you'd just sleep on the flight. you would rather spend your nights of insomnia with him anyway.

the two of you had talked for hours that night, about anything that came to mind. it was the early hours of the morning when you finally retreated back to your own quarters. he'd insisted on seeing you back, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night and your room was in the next building over. the way he'd lingered by your door as you said goodnight, you really thought he was going to kiss you then. but he didn't, and you went to sleep with a heavy feeling of disappointment that persevered into the next day.

"i'm sorry vantage." the medic sets something down on the end of the bed, and you turn to look. a pile of your clothes. "i know how you soldiers are, you're gonna get up as soon as i leave no matter what i say, so i'd rather you not walk around in a hospital gown."

she was right.

"...thanks, doc."

despite the overwhelming pain in your heart, you were still about to rip into price.

✹✹✹

you limp out of the infirmary after dressing yourself as quickly as your injuries would allow, which is to say, not very fast. thankfully there weren't any stairs between here and your captain's office, you definitely wouldn't be able to make it up them with your crutch.

the sun was already setting, a pink hue filling the sky as you pushed open the doors of the medical wing. you tried to think as little as possible as you made your way steadily across the courtyard. it would only upset you, and you desperately wanted to be pissed at him. you wouldn't– couldn't– let price see how hurt you were, he probably didn't care anyway. he was just your captain, after all, realistically there was no reason for you to be this upset.

but you were, and the few people you encountered in the corridors could see it written on your face, staying well out of your way as you shuffled past them.

as you stared at the closed door of john's office, your anger wavered. despite the ache in your heart, you considered for a moment that perhaps you were being dramatic. he was your captain, you were just one of his soldiers. it made perfect sense that he'd prioritise the lives of three others over yours alone.

it was his job, and he did it well.

you love john, of course you do, and that's why you're so affected by that fact. maybe you were letting your selfishness get the better of you. honestly, you didn't have a real reason to believe he felt the same way about you. everyone on task force 141 was close, that's the way things are, you couldn't confidently say he treated you differently.

but he was smart. he had to know how you felt, had at least had to know that you don't go out of your way for your other teammates as much as you do for him.

then again, even ghost had visited you while you were out, and you considered yourself much closer to price than him. so maybe he hated you now, he'd finally gotten tired of your poor decision making skills. it was the reason you were in this situation to begin with.

you were just about to abandon the idea of laying into him when price's voice sounded through the door.

"whoever's standin' out there, hurry up and come in, or piss off." he sounded exhausted, his tone blunt with annoyance. it wasn't unusual for him to get like that, especially whilst buried in mind-numbingly boring paperwork, but you could feel something else under the surface of his sharp tone.

well, there goes your last chance to run. you took a moment to steel yourself, to remember that you were in fact angry at him, and open the door with the harshest look you can muster.

he didn't look up as you let the door close behind you, keeping his nose buried in whatever report he was currently scribbling on. his hat was discarded on the desk next to him, and the hand in his hair was keeping it the messiest you'd ever seen it. you breathe in deeply through your nose.

"oh you'd love to get rid of me that easily, wouldn't you?" you spit, coming to stand in the middle of the room.

john's head snaps forward at the sound of your voice, the hand in his hair dropping to his desk, allowing you to finally get a good look at him. his eyes were wide and tired, you could tell the bags under them were darker than the last time you'd looked him in the face.

"vantage…" he spoke with something almost like disbelief, like he couldn't fathom that you were really in front of him. the hard lines of his face soften as his eyes meet yours, and then even further when his gaze falls to your crutch and boot.

fuck, how were you supposed to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that? you channel every ounce of bottled up frustration you have before his blue eyes consume you.

"well unfortunately, i am still alive. not that you give a shit; you got a restraining order on the infirmary or something?"

he murmurs your name– your real name, and as he rises to stand, his eyes don't leave yours for a second.

fuuuuuck.

"what? you leave me for dead, now the cats got your tongue?" you hiss at him, but you can feel the venom leaving your words with every second. the way his expression falls ever so slightly has you regretting what you were saying. you came in here needing to hurt him the way he hurt you, but you were quickly losing your nerve.

"don't do that…" he was almost pleading, as he made his way around his desk to stand in front of you, his piles of paperwork long forgotten. he goes to grasp your elbow, but you pull back before he can touch you. 

"sorry if you've already filled out my death certificate, i'd hate to cause you any more headaches." there was little fight left in your voice now, as you stared each other down in the middle of his office.

in the pause, john screws his eyes shut, turning his head to the side, before fixing you with a hard stare.

"don't. you know i would never've left you if i had any other choice!" it's not anger when he raises his voice, it's desperation; trying to convince himself as well as you. he takes another step towards you, toe to toe now as you lock eyes.

"do i know that? because from where i'm standing, it looks like you couldn't get far enough away from me," you can't help the way your voice cracks, nor can you disguise the hurt when you continue, "even fucking ghost visited me, but not you…"

another beat of silence.

"i couldn't…" john mumbled, eyes showing his mind was somewhere else. your chest tightened; every trace of anger was gone, replaced with the heartache you'd gotten so familiar with when it came to him.

"correct me if i'm wrong, but i really thought you cared." you try to take a step back, put some distance between the two of you, but he grabs your upper arm– successfully this time– to stop you going anywhere. it takes an impressive amount of restraint not to melt at his touch.

"of course i fuckin' care!" he growls, tugging you marginally closer.

your eyes hardened again; of course he did, just not in the way you wanted him to.

you jab your finger into his chest as you speak, your expression sour. "well you could've fooled–"

he grabs your hand as he cuts you off, and you can see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his face turning sharp again.

"bloody hell, just shut up! it killed me to leave without you, y'know that? if it weren't for simon i would've sent 'em back without me! i waited, as long as i could," he wasn't shouting, but you went quiet as if he was, any retaliation you thought of dying on your tongue. john let out a heavy sigh before he continued, "but you didn't come. you were stuck in that building, and then when it went up in fuckin' smoke, what was i supposed to think? i– we called out to you so many times, but you never responded."

the silence between you was heavy. deep down, you had already assumed everything he was telling you, but to actually hear it from his mouth had you choking up in his grasp.

"i…" you tried to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn't come. despite your best efforts, the tears welling up in your eyes were close to spilling over as your gaze fell to the floor.

john sighed again, softer this time, and using the hand on your arm he brought you into his chest, letting go of your hand with his other and wrapping it securely around your back.

you rest your cheek against his chest, bringing your own arms up around his torso, and revelled in the feeling of his embrace. listening to his elevated heartbeat, you wondered if he could feel just how hard yours was beating too.

"when you came crashin' through that door the next mornin', alive, i swear i've never been so relieved. but then you wouldn't wake up, and you were covered in so much blood… i…" his voice breaks, actually breaks, and you try to lift your head to look at him, but his hand on your arm moves up and presses into the back of your head, holding you tight against him. "...i was fuckin' terrified, love." he whispered.

"... why didn't you visit me?" the question you'd been meaning to ask all along, the real reason you had been upset at him.

you feel him press his lips into the top of your head, gently rocking you both where you stand. the crutch falls from your arm, but neither of you make any move to retrieve it.

"i couldn't. i couldn't face you, layin' in that hospital bed, hooked up to all them machines… knowin' it was my fault…"

"Hey, you know it wasn’t…" you murmur with disapproval; as much as you hate to admit it, you dug yourself into that hole.

"fuck, i'm– so fucking sorry love,"

"don't apologise… please, you did what you had to," you lift your head, and you can look him in the face again. his eyes were slightly red; if your heartstrings were pulled anymore they'd surely break. "plus, i was never really mad at you anyway."

he huffs out a small chuckle, his breath fanning over your face, the crease in his brow melting away as your eyes meet, "well ain't that a relief?"

"i thought you were pissed at me, and that's why you didn't visit…" you clear your throat and avoid his gaze, "i mean, i did lock myself in a building full of hostiles… not my finest moment,"

"no. as stupid as you are sometimes, i could never be angry at you." 

"that is a relief."

a quiet overcomes the two of you, standing in eachothers arms as the evening sun casts the room in an orange glow. you wanted to stay like this for the rest of time, but it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the voice in the back of your head that said this was inappropriate. the way he was talking, holding you, had your hopes high, just like that night before the mission. the one where you went to bed disappointed. it didn't help that you were expecting the let-down now, if anything it only made your heart sink even lower.

you notice that, exactly like you, john was staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. you tilt your head, wordlessly urging him to tell you what's going on. he sighs, scanning the multitude of cuts and scrapes that litter your face, "i promise you, i will never let anything like that happen again, alright?"

"i believe you." you smile softly, and you do; of course you do, you'd trust him with your life. it wasn't something you'd admit out loud, but you would do just about anything if he asked you to.

"i swear, i'm not lettin' you outta my sight." the look on his face has you squirming is his grasp, under the intense gaze he pinned you with.

"alright, i get it," you chuckle, your face heating up at the implication. this was doing nothing for the enormous crush you were harbouring. shuffling backwards slightly, you put enough space between you that you can comfortably rest your hands on his chest.

"i don't think you do, love," you feel his chest rumble as he speaks, and his gaze becomes serious, "i coulda' lost you. i thought i did. fuck, when soap and gaz came outta there without you? i thought my heart'd stopped… i just– i…"

it was rare to see your captain so lost for words. you feel his heart beat faster under your fingertips, the distant look in his eyes giving away the internal debate he was surely having.

"john?"

"if i'm out of order, say the word and we can forget all about this, but vantage…" his voice was low, and you felt your cheeks heat up to a boiling point as he cradled your face with one hand and leaned in closer, chest to chest again. the anticipation and the proximity might just make you sick. "you mean the world to me, i don't know what i'd do with myself if i lost you."

was that… what you thought it was? it sounded an awful lot like a confession, and you really really wanted it to be, but… was it too good to be true?

the lack of a response from you had john pulling back with an uncharacteristic cough that radiated embarrassment. he let go of your face, hovering next to your cheek as if he couldn't bear to let go, and you frown at the absence of his warmth.

"just ignore me, i shouldn't've–" he begins to back-pedel, going to move away from you before you cut him off.

"no!" you exclaim, with a bit more panic than you intended, and grasp his shirt in your fists to keep him close. "i get it, i really do. i- i care about you too, probably a lot more than a teammate should." your face heats up at the admission, and he lights up with surprise. "i think i always have."

slowly, he moves his hand back to its place cupping your jaw, searching your eyes for any signs that he was misinterpreting your response. when he found none, he smiled at you so genuinely you doubted anyone had ever been so sincere towards you.

"yeah?" he murmurs, the slight disbelief gone from his expression but still present in his voice.

"yes, john," you mirror his tone, bringing a hand up to hold the back of his neck. his skin burned hot under your touch.

"well thank god for that," his voice is barely a whisper now, as he draws your lips closer to his. the air separating you felt thick enough to be cut.

you let your eyes fall closed, and with a small burst of confidence, you lean forward and close the final distance between the two of you. he kisses you so tenderly, with so much emotion, it makes your head spin. you sigh into him, tilting your head and pressing yourself impossibly closer, revelling in the feeling of being in his arms at last. all your many months of pining had led up to this moment, and you felt like your heart might just burst. regretfully, you find yourself needing to break away for air, and to your delight he follows your lips as you pull back.

"maybe i should get injured more often, if this is what i get," you breathe, a dazed smile on your face as both your eyes flutter open, and his chest rumbles under your hand with a deep chuckle.

"you better not; i'll have your head if you do, love."

✹✹✹

[violenteconomics]

title: with all my heart

^

a/n: a short and bitter little sebek fic i busted out last night. not my usual style at all, but i hope you like it, all the same.

takes place some time after book 7.

^

CONTENT WARNING: implied major character death, terminal heart condition, all the Diafam feels.

If any of this triggers you, please feel free to go eat something, drink water, and take a nap.

^

Even though Sebek was only sixteen, the doctor hadn’t bothered to sugarcoat her words. They were simplified for him, but her tone was clinical and unfeeling. For someone who had an alarming amount of stuffed animals and cheery, obviously-for-kids posters in her office, it was obvious that Dr Stuffins’ specialty was in cardiology rather than pediatrics. 

He’d sat down in front of her desk, and the first thing she did was ask, “Your brothers wouldn’t be here right now, would they? The pink-haired one and the really tall one.” she added, when her first question provoked no recognition.

Sebek hiked his shoulders up in shock and shook his head wildly. “NO! No, no, of course not! I-I mean— no, they’re not here, and they’re not my—”

She tilted her head, unbothered by his sheer volume. “Oh, I’m sorry. Your friends, then?”

“They’re—” Sebek cut himself off as he realized he had no good way to word it. Lilia and Malleus weren’t his family, but he wouldn’t go so far as to call them his friends, either. He shuddered with how arrogant the mere thought of it sounded. To think someone as lowly as him could…

“Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter,” she sighed, “as long as they’re not here. I doubt they’d take whatever I have to say very well.”

For somebody who's seen the prince of Briar Valley up close and personal, Dr Stuffins seemed largely unfazed by the idea of him raining hellfire upon her. She only shook her head and exhaled irritably, as if the great Malleus Draconia were just another pouty child yanking on her pristine white uniform with his grubby fingers. If there weren’t other things Sebek needed to worry about, he would’ve gotten offended on Malleus’ behalf.

Sebek crossed his arms and his ankles. “So what is it you had to say, doctor? You promised a solution to Silver’s condition, did you not?”

Dr Stuffins nodded. “I did, but I think you need a little context first…”

He narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”

She took a deep breath, suddenly looking nervous for the first time since he’d met her. “As you already know, Mr Silver’s current state is the result of being surrounded by an extraordinary amount of blot for an extended period of time. And as I understand it, your friend was also using his signature spell the whole time as well, correct?”

“You would be correct.”

Dr Stuffins put a hand to her throat as she cleared her throat. Maybe she was choking on the dense scent of detergent that seemed to plague this hospital, or maybe it was just the raw verocity of Sebek’s glare. His slitted pupils tended to unnerve other species, especially if he stared without blinking for a long time. “Well, since you and your peers were quite literally unable to wake up, Silver’s signature spell went a little farther beyond his means. But again, because he couldn’t awaken, he also couldn’t overblot… externally, anyway.”

“Overblot”. Sebek would never be able to stop the shivers he got from hearing that word. But somehow, having those last two words tacked onto it made his anxiety increase tenfold. “Externally?”

“Studies have been few, but it has been proven that internal overblots are indeed possible,” she said, suddenly pointing to a blob on the diagram. Sebek knew nothing about human biology, but he vaguely recognized the odd shape as a heart. “Without a place to go, the blot directs itself to the nearest source of magic, also known as the heart. I’ll spare you the details, but I think you can tell where I’m going with this.”

As soon as the word “heart” left her mouth, Sebek’s own came to a stop and dropped into his stomach. While a part of him knew patience was a virtue, the other part of him that was still 16-years-old wanted her to hurry it up already. Anything that could make it so Silver would squeeze back when Sebek went to hold his hand, just like he used to do when they were younger, and Sebek didn’t have to worry about things like class or species or status.

Sebek gripped the fabric of his pants tightly. He came here every morning with his school uniform on, hoping this would be the morning that Silver awoke, and Sebek would be able to yell at him for being such a heavy sleeper, Silver would apologize, and then they’d head to school like nothing happened.

But of course life can’t be so easy.

“There’s no surgery or spell in existence that can get rid of the blot once it's reached this stage,” she continued, pointing to another diagram, uncaring of Sebek’s obvious plight, “but there is a solution.”

Sebek raised his head. “What is it?”

Despite having trucked along smoothly up until now, she hesitated.

Sebek’s mind flashed to Malleus’ head slumped over his desk, no longer the proud prince he paraded around as, not even turning his head at the sounds of the other students mocking and jeering at him. 

He thought of Lilia preparing a completely inedible breakfast every morning, setting out plates of rock-hard pancakes for four, knowing full-well he was setting a table for only three. 

He remembered bumping into Kalim on his way to class, the heir’s smile lasting for a good three seconds before he burst into tears. 

He felt an involuntary growl escape him. “I don’t care how impossible it is. I will do whatever it takes.”

Dr Stuffins looked initially taken aback by his intensity, but her gaze hardens seconds later.

“I see.” she says simply. “Very well, then. Let’s get down to it.”

^

Silver’s room was a sight to behold, that was for certain. As it should be, just like he deserved, but Sebek couldn't help but wonder if it was all a bit too much. He could forgive the machinery and the plastic mask attached to Silver’s face, but the rest of it…

Silver was a modest person at heart, but over the past few weeks, this room had become extremely flashy. All of the posters and magazine clippings that now made up the wallpaper are of popular bands and models Sebek was pretty sure Silver’s never heard of before. Fresh bouquets of flowers, stuffed animals, and balloons of every color were crammed onto the right side of the wall, making just enough room on the left side for visitors and Silver’s doctors. Some of it was from random students of Night Raven College that knew him — the roses, for instance, were probably Riddle’s doing — but if Sebek was being honest with himself, most of it was probably from Kalim.

Despite the huge amount of stuff, Silver’s bedside table was bare except for a photograph of him, Lilia, and Malleus, taken when Silver was around eight or so. Sebek was actually there when they took the photo, but like almost all of Silver’s childhood photographs, he was told to stand to the side while Lilia aimed his camera at his golden children. Not that Sebek begrudged him for it, of course.

It’s unfortunate, then, that Sebek was left wishing he’d been more insistent. If he’d known their time together would only last 16 years, he would’ve asked to stand by his side in more pictures. Just one last memory, just a few more seconds…

But no. Those times were long gone now.

Sebek brushed Silver’s hair out of the way, fighting back tears — he wanted to etch every last detail of his face into his memory, and he couldn't do that if his vision was blurry. In a moment of weakness, he leaned down and presses his ear against Silver’s chest, feeling it rising and falling unsteadily, and listening to the comforting sound of his heart straining to pulse.

Typical Silver. A fighter until the very end.

It seemed like hours passed that way — just him and Silver in a room filled with teddy-bears.

You and I, Silver, he thought, closing his eyes, even if you sleep for a hundred years.

Before he could let the comforting sound of Silver’s heartbeat lull him to sleep, he heard the sound of the door opening, and his eyes snapped wide open. He turned to see Dr Stuffins standing there, clipboard in arm, with a grave look on her face.

“Mr Zigvolt?” she says. “It’s time.”

Sebek took one last look at Silver. Maybe he wished Silver would wake up right then and tell him everything was going to be alright. Maybe he was clinging onto the hope that Silver would just “get better”, like Lilia always said.

But if there was a way to cross that bridge, with even a one-in-one-thousand possibility of improvement…

“Alright.” Sebek replies, slowly getting up from his chair.

Dr Stuffins cleared her throat. “I’ll run you through the procedures as much as you need me to.” Then, as if her initial pity wasn’t enough, she added, “I… really do wish there had been another way. I know how difficult this must be.”

…Difficult?

Sebek scoffed. “It's much easier than you think, doctor.”

^

For Silver, waking up was a fuzzy process. He couldn’t tell you what was reality and what was just his imagination, though he’s fairly certain the sharp pains he felt all over him were authentic. 

With the little control he had over his body, Silver slowly looked around his room. It was filled with a haphazard arrangement of balloons, stuffed animals, flowers, and posters, but Silver was more taken with the button embedded in the wall right beside his bed. Above the button were the words “Call for Assistance”.

Silver was pretty sure being confused counted as being in need of assistance, so with great effort, he rolled onto his side and pressed the button with a shaky finger.

Suddenly, he heard running from just down the hallway. The door slammed open, and in an instant, several nurses were fussing around him.

“Hello…?” he greeted groggily, before one of them shushed him.

“He’s good.” he heard one of them say, his voice grave despite the positive-sounding announcement. “Call his emergency contacts.”

Silver couldn’t tell you how much time passed after them. To him, it seemed he nearly blinked, and then Father and Malleus were in his room. He smiled when he saw them smiling down at him, but whatever happiness he was building crumbled fast. Silver looked around his room, as he noticed how quiet it was. “Where’s… Sebek?”

Malleus sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure. He came by my door last night saying he had somewhere to be.”

“That boy.” Lilia shook his head with a fond yet tired smile.

Father looks completely exhausted, in fact. Silver tries not to let guilt get to him as he realizes it’s because of him. 

Father reaches into the pocket of the school jacket dangling over his shoulders. “But speaking of letters, he gave this to me a few days ago, for when you woke up.”

Even Malleus looked surprised. “He did? What does it say?”

“Hmhmm… I don’t know. He told me it was a surprise! He wanted Silver to be the first to read it.”

Silver took the paper cautiously. Sebek wasn’t a big fan of surprises, much less giving them, but there was no reason to assume he’d lie to Father’s face so blatantly.

He opened it, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and began to read.

^

Silver,

If you’re reading this, that means I, and the other doctors, have succeeded. And if you’re reading this once more for some odd reason, I advise you to look away if you’re searching for the motivations behind my actions. Firstly because nobody needs you to drive yourself mad over a piece of paper, and secondly because you should already know my rationale after 16 years of knowing each other, idiot. 

You’re probably wondering where I am, despite the fact you have much else to think about, and an excruciatingly long road of recovery ahead of you. I would ask you why, but I already know the answer: you’re simply and endlessly kind. This would be a perfect time to inform you (again) that your affinity to worry about others who don’t deserve it is going to get you in trouble some day, but I only have so much time to pen this letter, so I will spare you the spiel.

To be blunt — since I know no other ways of conveying myself — you were nigh-on unfixable, Silver.

The blot was clogging up your heart quickly, and everyone was certain you would perish. Using magic to heal you would only cause the blot to grow out of control and kill you within seconds. If the hospital had made an attempt to get it out manually, you’d either die during the surgery, or you’d have to spend the rest of your life being unable to use magic without suffering a heart attack. You’d have to stop attending Night Raven College in that case, and furthermore, you’d have to quit being Malleus’ knight.

The only solution that was left was a heart transplant, but there were few options. Different blood types, different age ranges, different species, a million other reasons why they didn’t have a single heart donation you could use.

But that’s when one of the doctors meekly approached me, and told me that I may carry the only compatible heart in all of Sage’s Island. We are similar in age, and although I am only half-human, I am human enough that we can share the same blood type. I will not disclose the name of the doctor who relayed this information to me, for I do not wish upon them whatever Underworld you might drag them to. Their only job was to keep you alive, not coddle me with false promises.

The important thing is that I could help you. I could grant you a life where you would never have to worry about blot ever again. Given such a proposal, how could I refuse? You may not understand, the kind yet very stupid soul that you are, but then again, you were not there in the days after you were admitted to this awful place.

You may ask who authorized my decision. I am still a minor at the time of writing, and my parents obviously would’ve objected vehemently. They don’t know you the way I do, so I knew they would never understand if I told them. With any luck, they still don’t know, but I have sent them a letter that should reach them in a week’s time after your surgery.

I am not an official vassal of His Majesty, but I am still legally a knight under his care. Therefore, I have certain… rights, shall we say, given to me by the crown.

I was able to exercise these rights to get the doctors to overlook my age, and consequently, my need for parental consent as far as risky surgeries were concerned. That may displease you to hear, and I’m sure that as soon as you are able, you will demand legal reforms from the current reigning Queen Draconia. I beg you to reconsider if so, and if you choose to disregard my advice, I only pray that you do not make a fool out of yourself in the process. 

Now we are done with the matters of your heart. For my own sake, I hope you will listen to the matters of mine now.

All of my possessions go to my family. My portrait of Malleus, my books, my toothbrushes, any money I had, everything. Not because I think they will have any particular use for them, but because I highly doubt anybody else will. They also have my endless gratitude and love, for I doubt it was easy to raise such a difficult child.

I have already written letters to my friends, as well. I wasn't certain how to ensure they received them whilst also hiding the truth of their contents from everyone, so I decided to hide them. A bit of a childish thing to do, but it only felt appropriate. Inscribed in invisible ink on this letter are the clues to find them, so I trust you to relay the hints, but also not to try and solve them yourself. For you are kind and stupid, but I am not, and the freshmen are my friends.

I’m afraid to say that I leave Master Malleus and Master Lilia with nothing except my deepest sorrows. No matter what the rules say, I know that I was stretching them as far as they would go when I invoked them to make my decision. 

Then there is you, Silver — disappointing, clumsy, lovely Silver. 

I agonized over what I should leave you, but then I realized that I shouldn’t treat your inheritance like compensation. Compensation requires me regretting what I have done, and I am unashamed to say that I do not, and probably never will, even up until my dying breaths. 

Sometimes, I like to toy with the idea that I had different, less pathetic reasons for giving my heart away to you. That I was looking out for the school’s best interests by preserving one of the most promising images it has seen in over a century. Or perhaps, I was just tired of waking up to a silent breakfast, and coming back to an even quieter dinner. Occasionally, I even like to think that I’m just egotistical enough that I merely want everyone to see me, even if they’re looking at you.

But no — none of that is true, and I know it. I am selfish to the core, and also a coward. It is safe to say that I just couldn’t stand the idea of going on without you, so I am now forcing you to go on without me.

To that end, I fear I can only leave you with one thing. One final bit of comfort, though I doubt it will do you much good.

I love you, Silver Vanrouge. My friend, my brother-in-arms, my most precious person.

I imagine my final thought will be of the first time you held my hand.

Yours, forever and always,

Sebek Zigvolt

[object-show-analysis]

Hi there! I’ve been really wanting to answer this one. The exact motives of cobs’ call aren’t clear yet. Theres a lot we can speculate on. It could have something to do with the aliens, for example. But nothing we know concretely. I can answer your second question very easily though. The fact that he’s calling now is influenced by a very simple thing: Cobs has Toilet.

It’s something we pretty much know, but that has been very intentionally vague. II episode 14 ended with the shot of MePhone X approaching Toilet while he was all alone on the beach.

This is a scene a lot of people have been very nervous about for years now but never got any closure on. We were expecting to finally get answers when ii episode 15 dropped, and we just didn’t. Never once is he shown, nor is his current situation talked about. The only thing that we get is Cobs calling.

It was very clear to me immediately that Toilet had to be related to the reason Cobs was calling. We had heard absolutely nothing about him and last we saw him, he was face to face with one of Cobs’ creations. MePhone never got any sort of notification for him, so if we are to assume he has a MeLife set up for toilet (something I’ve been skeptical about in the past, but I think is pretty easy to assume now given how death was talked about in the last episode. Even someone that everyone hated Had to be brought back to life, and it was considered ridiculous and cruel to even consider not bringing her back to life. So I think we can say pretty certainly that MePhone wouldn’t just not have a MeLife set up for toilet just because he didn’t like him. Also if there was going to be something as dramatic as toilet being perma dead like Dough, the fact that he doesn’t have a MeLife probably would have been mentioned by now) we know that toilet can’t be dead.

This means he Must be in Cobs’ custody. It’s the only possibility other than MePhoneX just letting toilet go, which wouldn’t make any sense either

Today’s trailer for episode 16 solidified this for me, when we hear a conversation between MePhone and MePad that goes like this:

MePhone: “this is it. We can’t escape him this time. You have to help”

MePad: “We no longer work together”

MePhone: “then… don’t do it for Me.”

With an emphasis on “me” that implies there’s someone Else MePad would do this for. I do believe the sentence here is going to be “don’t do it for me. do it for toilet.” I can’t fathom anyone else it could be about. All signs point to Cobs having Toilet within his custody and using him as some sort of motive to get to MePhone. So I would say That is definitely why Cobs has chosen to call now of all times. He finally has something that he can use against MePhone and MePad.

I’m Very excited to see how this plays out. And very excited to see Toilet again!!! I hope this helps :)

[aceissomunster]

Clearing up misconceptions and such about Tim Drake for all you non-comic reading fic-writers and people that just don’t know. Mostly chronologically

Under the cut, cause this is gonna get long ,,

While Tim isn’t my favorite batfamily member, or even robin in particular, he is the one whose comics i’ve read the most of and know the most about.

If i’m wrong about any of this, please let me know!

- Tim’s parents weren’t especially abusive. they were neglectful, as in leaving him with the nannies and sending him off to boarding schools when they were out of the country, which was frequently. also, they did love him. i don’t even know where people got the idea that they didn’t.

- Tim did not stalk the bats, until he noticed Batman’s grief-driven violence and decided to follow, photograph, and gather evidence

- he also didn’t just go up to Bruce and ask to be Robin, he actually tracked down Dick Grayson to the circus and tried to convince him to come back to being Robin. Dick drove him to the manor, and then found out Tim’s whole story.

then Alfred let him down into the cave, Batman and Nightwing got captured by Two-Face, and Alfred practically threw the Robin costume at him and they went to save Batman and Nightwing. THEN Tim told Bruce that he was Robin. (— A Lonely Place of Dying, Tim’s 13)

- Before even becoming Robin fully, Tim’s parents were kidnapped and held for ransom in Haiti by a man called the “Obeah Man” (“Obeah” translates roughly to black magic, I’m pretty sure). Batman finds them by following the people that were going to pay the ransom, and they were being kept in some underground place? I’m not sure, but it was really really hot. There’s a pitcher of water, and Janet drinks it, and Jack starts drinking it, and Janet dies near-instantly, and Batman smacks the water out of Jack’s hands but Jack still ends up completely paralyzed and put into a coma. (— Rite of Passage)

- Fun fact: Janet’s funeral was Christmas eve

- it’s only after his mother’s death and father’s hospitalization that he goes to Paris (keep in mind, Batman did not force him to go, Tim wanted to!) to train under Rahul Lama, and then with Lady Shiva. (Robin mini 1)

- he doesn’t actually get trained by Shiva in the run, but it’s vaguely implied

- Fun fact: Tim actually kills Lady Shiva once (i forget what the storyline’s called, but it’s somewhere in Robin 52-55 ish)

- OH YEAH, Jason Todd was NOT Tim’s Robin. Tim Drake has been Dick Grayson’s #1 fanboy since the circus. He could not care less about Jason

- Fun fact: early in his Robin career, he hallucinated Dick and Jason as Robin (even though Dick was very alive) giving him advice

- He had friends outside of YJ. Like his best friend Sebastian Ives, his friend Callie, his (ex) girlfriend Ariana Dzerchenko, and a good bit more.

- he started dating Steph as Robin while dating Ariana as Tim, but Ari and Tim broke up like the day after Steph and Tim got together (not because of Steph, Ari didn’t know Tim was Robin, but because of other stuff that happened. go read Robin.)

- fun fact: Tim actually didn’t have contingency plans for Young Justice/the Titans, because he actually trusts them, unlike his mentor. (this is mentioned sometime in Young Justice 1998, but I don’t remember the issue)

- Tim’s 16 (not 14 or whatever THOSE tim stans try to say) and on the Teen Titans, when the fabled and constantly over-exaggerated “Titan’s Tower incident” occurs. Tim is fully suited up in the Robin suit, he puts up a good fight with Jason (who is in an adult-sized Robin costume, by the way) until he gets knocked out. This fight leaves no lasting injuries on Tim. (Teen Titans (2003) #29)

- the whole Jason slitting his throat thing happens in a different comic. (Batman: Hush, i’m pretty sure, correct me if i’m wrong)

- Tim also kicks Jason in the nuts the next time he sees him, so there’s not really any hard feelings there.

- Tim’s dad finds out he’s Robin and makes him quit, and Steph becomes Robin. Then Steph dies and Tim’s school gets shot up and he becomes Robin again.

- Tim leaves Jack alone at their home to go find the man sent to kill him. While he’s gone, the man (Captain Boomerang) kills Jack. (— Identity Crisis #5)

- after Jack dies, Bruce offers to adopt Tim and Tim turns him down and creates a fake uncle. Batman finds out the uncle is fake, commends him on his good job of making a fake uncle, and helps him make it better. Bruce later offers again to adopt Tim and he accepts. Damian literally shows up like the very issue after this in Batman

- Kon dies, then Bart dies a bit after. And, not to hate on yall TimKon shippers out there, but he also planned to clone Bart, and also in TT03 like 50-53ish, when him and the other Titans run into their future evil selves again, their Superman (Kon) and Flash (Bart) are clones.

- All those deaths happen relatively close together and in that order, I think, when Tim’s 16-17. But comic timelines are weird, like how Tim was 15 when the Quake hit and for the year-long duration of No Man’s Land (from New Year’s to New Year’s), he stays 15.

- When Bruce “dies” and Dick (Batman) makes Damian Robin. Damian needs guidance, and Dick wants him and Tim to be equals. Dick had good intentions and did the right thing! He just didn’t have the best execution.

- When Tim finds the painting and tells Dick about it, Dick DOES NOT THREATEN TO SEND HIM TO ARKHAM. He, reasonably (considering all the losses Tim has just faced) assumes Tim needs mental help and grief counseling, and recommends him a therapist in Metropolis.

- Tim decides to just go find evidence that Bruce isn’t dead by himself, and steals the Red Robin suit and runs off without even telling Alfred (Red Robin)

- Ra’s al Ghul sends people to kill Tim at first, but Tim obviously doesn’t die and breaks Pru’s nose twice. Eventually and reluctantly, Tim accepts the League’s help and resources.

- Tim finds his best piece of evidence in a cave in the desert with Pru, Z, and Owens. right after leaving the cave, an assassin attacks them, killing Z and Owens, slitting Pru’s throat, and stabbing Tim. Tim, ACTIVELY BLEEDING OUT, brings himself and Pru to the car they used to get there, drives to a hotel, CLIMBS UP THE BUILDING TO ONE OF THE TOP FLOORS WITH PRU WHILE THEY ARE BOTH BLEEDING OUT, and passes out on the bed, where Tam Fox (sent by Lucius to go find Tim) finds them. and so do a bunch of ninjas.

- Tim had to have his spleen removed because it was kebabed with a sword and was going to rupture. Ra’s also does NOT keep it in a jar.

- during the whole LOA part of RR, Ra’s is NOT preying on Tim. there is NO ROMANCE THERE. (no offense if you see it or think it’s implied, but to me it’s just really not?) its just RESPECT.

- with the whole bases exploding thing, its because the Council of Spiders was there and also he just doesn’t like the LOA. he gave them like 15 seconds to get out, obviously all the assassins managed to get out of the massive, complex bases in 15 seconds. (comic logic: if it’s not specified that it did kill them, then it didn’t.)

- the whole “Damian cutting Tim’s line” is also very exaggerated. Damian did it because of Tim’s “Hit List” and because Damian was on it. and Tim fell a few feet, caught himself, then fought Damian (neither won because Dick broke it up because they were literally right in front of THE alley.)

- not really a timeline thing, but in general, tim is VERY against murder. Part of the reason for this is Batman’s morals, which he built his own around, sure. But I think an even BIGGER part of his moral code is just to not become evil future gun Batman. And evil future gun Batman has no qualms against murder, he even killed Damian.

that’s pretty much the main stuff i wanted to touch on. LMK if i should add anything else or if i got anything wrong, thanks!!

No hate if u use the fanon stuff btw, i just know that a lot of people don’t read the comics and don’t know the actual information.

If you want pictures of some of these events from the comics, just lmk and I’ll provide

[oswildin]

Debated making this, but oh well, here we are…

I rewatched the Loki series.

Going to add here quickly that I have been a fan of Loki since 2012/2013, and I personally relate to his character for a multitude of reasons.

Now, I enjoy the series, but I wish they made it more character focused than they had. I do feel like they prioritised story in terms of making it fit the next phase over exploring and expanding on Loki’s character to some degree (a lot of it was surface level).

For example, I would’ve loved to have seen:

Exploring Loki’s Jotun heritage, even if it was a variant of him in the void that embraced it, dropped his aesir form, a conversation between Loki and his Jotun variant as they explain why they chose to embrace it, giving a different view to maybe how our Loki sees himself/the Jotuns. If ‘What If’ could have a frost giant Loki variant, why couldn’t the show?

Expanding upon what happened to Loki during that year after his fall from the Bifrost. The reason for this is self explanatory really, it would add more lore/depth to his experiences/actions during the Avengers. Maybe address the trauma he has from it.

Loki fighting with his so-called ‘desire’ for a throne more. By this I mean, I felt he flipped pretty quickly from his plan to overthrow the time keepers to just following along with Sylvie - which is fine, but I kinda thought there would be more push back from him. I get it was a life or death situation and Loki’s whole thing is ‘survival’, but it would’ve added to their dynamic and the fact the writers clearly wanted to push how Sylvie was different to other Loki’s.

Exploring Sylvie’s backstory more. It really did feel like it was an afterthought, which is a shame. I suppose they left it ambiguous for certain reasons, but I think they should’ve had more flashback scenes of what Sylvie could remember. I think it would’ve helped people understand and relate to her more. (I do love her though).

Actually showed Loki’s gender fluidity & shapeshifting ability more. Again, self explanatory really & important to his character, plus the whole implied only ‘woman variant’ thing with Sylvie should’ve not been a thing, like at all.

They should’ve given Loki more time to process everything. This show really should’ve had 8 episodes each season, I get that’s not the writers fault, likely Disney/marvel’s doing. Perhaps then the shift in his character wouldn’t have felt so jarring, especially considering he’s 2012 Loki. I do agree they wrote him as if he was Ragnarok!Loki, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it just felt jarring considering the last we saw of this Loki was Avengers. But then I could also argue that maybe he thought ‘what’s the point of it’ because the TVA know everything about him, but I digress.

Used Sylvie more in S2. It did feel like they didn’t quite know what to do with her, her and Loki clearly just needed to sit and discuss the citadel fight, but the closest thing we got is in EP3 where Sylvie says ‘this is all rather familiar, isn’t it?’, referencing their different/opposing opinions on the TVA/He Who Remains. And also maybe the pie room scene, but it’s very vague/not directly addressed.

Explored the fact that Mobius is not a good guy more. Because, he isn’t. And that’s okay. To me, the whole point of the show is based on Loki’s quote of ‘no one good is ever truly good, and no one bad is ever truly bad’, and whilst they do reference Mobius’ own morally grey actions/traits, they don’t particularly make it clear and most just see him as this ‘happy go lucky old man who likes pie and loves Loki variants’. In fact, I actually really liked the scene where Sylvie confronts him - which is a very unpopular opinion to have it seems, lol.

Delved into the psychology of Loki further than surface level/what we already know about him. Yes, we know he’s the God of Mischief. Yes, we know he isn’t evil. Yes, we know he is redeemable. Yes, we know he’s cunning, manipulative and selfish. We get that he projects this ‘illusion’ of himself, but it was only really mentioned in S1 EP1, maybe slightly EP2, before it’s never really mentioned again. I suppose S2 does this to a degree with the bar scene and EP5 of S1 in the time cell with Sif - also I think they tried to take the narcissist angle from the pov that it’s because of his low self-esteem as to why he needs validation and it’s a defence mechanism, but they didn’t particularly make that clear and made it seem like he just thinks highly of himself.

I know it seems like I have a lot of issues with the show, and I do, but I still enjoyed it. It’s okay to be critical of a piece of media and still enjoy it.

I do prefer S2 to S1, mostly because I prefer the direction they took it in and whilst I, of course, wanted better for Loki, I can’t deny S2 EP6 is a stunning finale. I sobbed so hard during the ending and still feel the grief that I actually lost someone I knew personally. But I also have hope that this means Loki is now a main player in the next phase (am I delusional? Maybe).

I enjoyed the dynamics, the back and forth/chemistry, the story was interesting, the set & costume design, the acting, the directing/colour grading, the music (Natalie Holt, you are genius), the emotions, the fun, the characters…

So this is not a hate post by any means, I will once again state, I enjoyed the show. But, I do have issues with it, and that’s okay too.

Please, dni if you’re just going to be argumentative or confrontational. I also don’t want to hear that just because I enjoyed the show that I’m ‘not a real fan’ lmao. I’m sorry, but I’ve been a Loki stan for over a decade, and I will not have someone tell me I’m not a real fan because of a piece of fictional media. Also, please do not mention anything regarding ships on this post, I do not care for it because it always ends up in arguments and I am a multishipper so I don’t tend to fight for any side. Thank you! :) /gen

[butchdykekondraki]

its time for scp required reading... TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

please for the love of god heed the fucking warnings im so serious . like as much as i want to keep the tone of this post jokey and funny you NEED to heed the warnings on these

ok with that out of the way. read about my blorbos boy

''incident 239-b clef-kondraki'' (general warning for violence and blood/gore) - this one fucks. thats all i have to say about it

''technical issues'' - this one's funny + im biased because i fucking love pat the tech guy

''routine psychological evaluations by doctor glass'' - again i have personal bias about this (<- simon glass enjoyer + host is a glass introj) + this ones funny + if you're more into the fanon versions of the foundation staff this is right up your alley

''tradition'' - halloween party fun :-)

''dr cimmerian hits reply all'' - this is exactly what it sounds like i don't now what to tell you

''stupid cupid / stupid cupid: stop picking on me!'' - my house my rules read about cimmerian and his boytoy

''hawaiian shirts'' - clef fucking Breaks. thats all i can say about this without exploding into viscera

''help me my (love for) my daughter was born too still'' (general warning for mentions of child death) - i have personal bias about this (<- #1 agatha rights enjoyer) but this tale is So Good in general and a super interesting look at how agatha perceives herself and her work/life balance

''so leave yourself alone.'' (warning for graphic depictions of vomit and attempted suicide) - REALLY really really good look at clef kind of dropping his cruel persona and iris' mental health struggles regarding the foundation

''yesterday'' (warning for violence and implied/reference suicide. kind of.) - :-( <- this is the only way i can express my emotions about this tale. anyway it's really good and an interesting way of showing clefs relationships with people

''an apple a day...'' - REALLY good look at how dr glass is as a person and how he acts with people + this entire tale fucks SEVERELY

''personal log of dr gears / personal log of █████ 'iceberg' ████'' - good example of how gears and iceberg both format their documents / how they speak + its vaguely gearsberg + this gives a look at how gears and iceberg met. read the gearsberg tale boy

''portraits of your father'' (warning for graphic alcoholism, suicide, survivors guilt, and blood/gore) - super good look at draven and his relationship with his father, and kondraki's alcoholism, and also talloran is there. also three cheers for dravoran

''life's cold'' - most normal day iceberg has at this fuckass foundation + this is a good look at how iceberg acts and thinks

''fond memories'' (warning for death and body horror) - draven proposes! Draven proposes.

''scp-3999'' (warning for bugs, paranoia, death, body horror, sexual assault/rape, unreality, self harm, and depictions of bodily mutilation) - unironically this one fucks me up so bad its so fucking good dude. go read about james talloran RIGHT NOW

''i stared into the face of everything and nothing and made it back alive'' - this one also fucks me up so bad like i dont even have anything to say. read about talloran and draven RIGHT NOW

''you are at the center of everything that happens to you'' - james talloran talks to himself. kind of.

''a suicide note'' (warning for mentions of rape, child murder, survivors guilt, and suicide) - interesting look at clefs thoughts on him and his work

''date night'' - objectum win! dr alto clef is objectoromantic AND objectosexual! <- that should tell you all you need to know about this one

''scp-4231 / montauk house'' (warnings for graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, child abuse/neglect, murder, domestic violence, verbal/physical abuse and survivor's guilt) - absolutely gut-wrenching look at alto clef/francis wojciechoski and why he's so fucked up. uh genuinely do read the warnings on this one because when i say graphic i am not exaggerating. all of these things are explored in detail and are genuinely triggering so.

''okay, that's enough, let's get you home'' (warnings for some dubious make-out sessions, (mentioned) suicide, implications of rape/sexual assault, and vomit) - shameless moldhouse plug sorry not sorry. HIGHLY recommend reading this and it's other parts in their entirety because it genuinely drives me up the fucking wall it is So good. i will sing moldhouses praises until my throat goes out. read moldhouse Now

''duke 'till dawn'' - bpd king!!!!! anyway i dont have a lot of thoughts on this its just really good. also i didnt know dracula was an actual scp until i read this which is kind of funny to me

''rights' birthday party'' - my house my rules you're going to read about agatha rights whether you like it or not

''sex at a frigid temperature'' - again, my house my rules. read the depressing gearsberg tale, boy.

''7 things that new level 3 researchers should know'' - i dont have any thoughts on this i just think this one has really cool formatting

''home is where i want to be'' - no greater thoughts this is just really neat i think. also kiryu labs is in it and im biased as fuck

''gentle wings flutter quietly in the dark'' - read about zyn kiryu NOW

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

How would the others feel/react to karkat and eridan being moirails?

Or tav and gamzee being moirails? or kanaya and aradia being moirails! (I don't remember if you had mentioned them in your re-write) or equius being the auspistise of dave and tavros??

idk I like to explore the relationships and feelings of the characters

haha i'll save erikar for last because it's the funniest one

Kanaya and Aradia are pretty much a no-brainer to people - they're both fairly calm and collected already, so while they are serving to curb each others' worst tendencies (Aradia's recklessness and Kanaya's willingness to stop caring about people she doesn't like), they're really chill and overall not a wholly unexpected development once Kanaya's moirallegiance with Vriska falls through. they're girl best friends. girl married. they confer with each other about who to kill. when they finally do agree on murdering someone's ass Watch Out. Since neither of them particularly need the moirallegiance - it helps, but it's never going to be an emergency measure for the two of them, unlike the other highbloods - it's kind of deemphasized for them both, and they tend to gravitate more towards their flushed partners. also, do yall think about how kanaya fights the undead and aradia communes with ghosts. the spooky wlw vibes

gamzee and tavros, meanwhlie, garners a kind of "oh god, of COURSE it's those two" response. They rank among the two most disliked members of the team, with Tavros's blatant weakness a mirror to many other characters, who have insecurities about being weak - and with Gamzee's facade as the super chill clown at odds with their society's insistence on death, murder, and violence. However, finding true acceptance in Tavros, Gamzee would probably drop the act, which ironically lets him make more genuine connections and friendships with the rest of the team; meanwhile, having the super scary clown by Tavros's side makes Tavros much more comfortable with standing up for himself and asserting his own independence, because if he doesn't, gamzee will probably start killing people talking to gamzee makes him feel braver because gamzee genuinely believes in him and likes him.

dave/tavros/equius is just treated by the rest of the team as Extremely Funny. Dave's friends won't stop giving him shit over it. however, tavros and equius keep getting people who go "nice work" and "congrats man" because a stable and healthy auspicetism like they have is super rare. dave is in hell

pale erikar is definitely one of those things where, once it DOES happen, everyone around them is like "oh god, it was so obvious all along." like, the people on their team were vaguely aware that the two of them were buddies, but Karkat was always privately embarrassed by how often he talked to eridan (canonically, All The Time), and nobody fucking listens to eridan anyway, so for the longest time, their friend group kind of shrugged and assumed they were platonic friends, and any weird vibes they might've picked up to the contrary were just Karkat and his vascillatory too-many-feelings nonsense because he's got such a big bleeding pusher.

In fact, the only person on the team who seems to notice they've got a pale something-something going on is gamzee, but gamzee has a palecrush on karkat so he's deliberately not telling anyone and trying to keep them apart lmao. feferi like unironically notices that eridan and karkat talk so much that eridan has nothing left to talk about with his actual moirail, but doesn't connect the dots that eridan is having an emotional affair (i'm sorry feferi you deserve better HAHAHA)

once it DOES happen, there's kind of a vibe of "wait, really, karkat? THAT guy?" because their relationship - on the outside - reads as incredibly non-traditional. it's implied that insults and death threats are, like, just how they regularly talk to each other (after karkat threatens eridan's life and thrashes him verbally, eridan goes "haha i can always count on you for some good ironic banter, nobody else gets our sense of humor ^w^"), and karkat can basically calm eridan down just by saying hello, whereas eridan keeps karkat calm by saying the most bizarre, hostile, unempathetic shit anyone's ever heard (imagine the "are you like, legit sad?" post). they both have MASSIVE insecurities about appearing weak to other people, so all of their feelings jam stuff happens so far out of the public eye that people genuinely think it never happens at all.

the only thing, publicly, that changes about how they already hang out with each other is that sometimes they'll make out... which you are generally not supposed to do with your moirail. actually everybody on the meteor (besides the humans that don't Get It) are like bro... you two are NASTY. more of karkat's vascillatory, cant-keep-his-quads straight nonsense. Eridan's down for anything as long as he's getting attention, so he's a pretty enthusiastic partner, but then afterwards he's always like "this is why you can't get a concupiscent date :///// you keep doing shit like this w/ your moirail. you have problems"

like that's one of the funniest things about pale erikar imo... it's that 90% of the time it's KARKAT who needs calming down. eridan's always on the verge of a murderous breakdown, but what that means is that he's also really good at hanging on without breaking, and it's actually super rare that he needs to be pulled back from flying off the handle (esp. as compared to sober!gamzee and equius). karkat, meanwhile, is always on a hair fucking trigger, so the biggest change the friend group sees is actually in karkat, who's so much more chill to be around now that his insecurities about weakness are being patched by having the team's ultra-strong sea dweller at his beck and call. and like, yeah, having karkat as his buddy makes eridan much less desperate for companionship with other people, which makes him more tolerable, but he still mostly sucks to be around, he's just less in-your-face about it. so people put up with the grossness of the vascillatory stuff, and cringe of it being ERIDAN of all people, because they're like, well, he's making karkat happy.

[adachimoe]

Adachi's fixation on Mayumi

In a previous post, I talked about how the game is vague about why Adachi is at the Amagi ryokan, and how I believe it's implying he was stalking Mayumi, and that he hadn't actually been assigned to guard her. I still believe that, but, what exactly about her was Adachi so fixated on that he felt compelled to do this in the first place?

Normally, one would probably just go, "Adachi is an incel" and that's supposed to serve as an explanation for both why he liked her and why he killed her. But painting over everything about him as "Adachi is an incel" feels really reductionist.

When Adachi calls out to Mayumi at the ryokan, he asks her to come to the lobby and begins by asking her about the affair. This scene actually has some significance in how Katsura Hashino re-interpreted the mythology of Izanagi and Izanami for Persona 4: In his mind, Izanagi going to Yomi to verify if Izanami was dead or not represented a desire to seek out the truth; death is when you "quit thinking". Adachi mirrors this, going to the Amagi's (his Yomi), and verifying information about Mayumi (his Izanami).

And when Adachi asks her, he presents it in a way that says, he is on her side. His phrasing here is notable: The affair - it's not true, right? And it shows what he wants to believe too, because he doesn't want to believe that she was in an affair with a married man.

After all, he probably saw her on the Midnight Channel before and has it in his brain that she's his "soulmate". Heck, even when you find him in the TV World, he's ranting about her not being single:

It's parasocial and it's creepy. God I wish he'd talk about me that way.

But, I think it's in how he presented himself as "taking her side" that we can figure out why he was so fixated on her. If Adachi comes in assuming that Mayumi was not really having an affair with Namatame, then that means that her losing her job at the station, her being forced to hole herself up in the ryokan, the media circus surrounding her, etc... Then that would make her a victim in all of this: Someone who has been thrown under the bus and is being treated unfairly. And by her former media contemporaries, nonetheless.

Funny enough, as it would happen, there is a character in the story who feels they are a victim who has been treated unfairly and fell from grace at their workplace, and sees their current situation as punishment from their coworkers...

...aaand it's Adachi.

It feels quite probable to me that part of why Adachi fixated so hard on Mayumi is because he basically looked at her situation and thought, "Oh, she's just like me, frfr". Dude really headcanoned that her affair wasn't even real.

We aren't really shown what happens with Adachi and the Midnight Channel after he comes into town. We know that he had seen it before he talked to Mayumi, as he was aware he could touch the TV, just unaware that a whole body could go in. And with Mayumi's scandal being in the news and media, and her being on people's minds, we know she appeared on it during Namatame's flashbacks.

I think Adachi got it in his mind that even though she was this otherwise out of of reach person for him, being a celebrity and all, she too was a victim of sorts, and what he saw as a common point between them (we don't actually know why he got transferred lol) could have led to a blossoming relationship. Like they were meant to be together, as he probably saw her as his soulmate on the Midnight Channel. Oh, what a coincidence for her to go through this big media scandal when around the same time that he transfers into Inaba. Clearly it was fate.

Really, he's fucking delusional. It's great.

Although, I do wonder if this also says something about him. While he talks big in his Golden Social Link about only going after insanely beautiful women, he isn't actually portrayed in the narrative as trying to hit on women or ask them out regularly. While he has his preferences, perhaps he only tries to seriously pursue women who are broken or downtrodden in someway--like it's less chance of getting rejected.

[yellowocaballero]

i see you reblogging aa, is this a sign an ace attorney fic is on the horizon 👀

I resign myself to the fact that any reblogging spree of one work inevitably results in people in my inbox asking if I'm currently writing fanfic about it. I can't complain, because the answer is usually yes absolutely of course I am.

I will say that the Great Phoenix Wright Trilogy Playthrough Of 2024 was this summer! It was very much a tether to sanity and I'm very grateful towards @lazuliquetzal for letting me watch her play and for making the experience so much fun. A very intricate bedrock of lore/in-jokes developed. Edgeworth thinks he discovered homosexuality and younger sister figures are mandatory in a court of law. We found it extremely well-written, very funny, and really interesting in character dynamics. I also got her to play Ghost Trick, which was awesome as usual. We're currently both obsessing about different things - and my fanfic to-do list is already VERY long - so no fanfic is actually in the works right now.

Of course I've already written some, who do you take me for. I wrote this just for us, so it's unfinished and rife with our in-jokes, but somewhat shockingly it probably has the densest joke-to-word ratio that I've ever written. Sometimes I want to continue writing something, but I look at it and I'm like, 'This is too good. I can't keep up this level of good. I can't reach this high again'. The short fanfic - sourced from our recurring jokes/efforts to figure out [SPOILERS FOR ACEATT3] how blind Godot is exactly, and what I would have found the most interesting - is, believe it or not, too good to keep writing.

Zany fanfic and spoilers for Ace Attorney 3 under the cut.

           As it turned out, there was a prosecutor’s lounge.

           Like a lot of Phoenix’s least favorite facts, it was both obvious in retrospect and deeply disturbing. The defendant’s lounge had an obvious purpose: confer with your client, beg them to tell you simple facts that would determine if they were sentenced to death via electric chair, let your coworkers blow off steam by making fun of you. Gumshoe is useful at the least useful second. None of these banal and extraordinarily stressful events had anything to do with a prosecutor.

           That was why Edgeworth had always wandered into the defendant’s lounge and made vague yet affectionate threats at Phoenix. If he had his own sterile room to stand around awkwardly, he surely would have done so. This felt so obvious it ought to have gone without saying. There couldn’t, like, actually be a real lounge. That would imply a lot of things about Edgeworth’s choices. 

As a result, when Gumshoe tossed Phoenix the updated coroner’s report and asked him to run it to the prosecutor’s lounge, Phoenix’s first instinct was to contemplate suicide. His only remaining link to sanity was the knowledge that running Gumshoe’s errands to an imaginary room was better than the alternative of staying here.

           Much better. Gumshoe was looking at Maggey, Maggey was refusing to look at Gumshoe, Phoenix wanted to be nowhere near any of this, and he was taking the out. Gumshoe might as well have asked him to go check if his refrigerator was running. Call him a mechanic, because he grabbed both Maya and Pearl and high-tailed it out of there.

           He had to ask for directions three different times before he even found the place. It was a place that could be found. In real life. Phoenix better go catch his fucking refrigerator!

It was also right next door to the defendant’s lounge. Had this really been here the entire time? Could Phoenix have been wandering into Edgeworth’s lobby and making vague yet affectionate threats at him? He could have even stood in front of the door and blocked Edgeworth’s ritualistic escape from his feelings. His was a life of missed opportunities.

           “I bet they have free coffee,” Maya said grimly. “I bet they have tacos.”

           “With free avocados,” Phoenix intoned. “As much as they want. Maybe caviar.”

           Pearl blasted her large and doleful eyes up at Nick. “Why don’t you put avocados on the tacos you make for us? I love them…”

           Poverty, but he couldn’t tell her that. Nick settled for patting her on the head. “Avocados are as immoral as the prosecutors themselves, Pearly. It’s a matter of ethics.”

           “Ethics are so overrated,” Maya said mournfully, kicking the doors open. “Let’s go evil, Nick. For the sake of the children.”

           The cops inside did not appreciate Maya’s dynamic entry, but nobody ever did. Disappointingly, the prosecutor’s lounge was identical to the defendant’s one – down to the cops, cheap sofa, and ugly-ass art. The only difference was – son of a bitch, they did have coffee!

           Entirely possible that Godot refused to step foot inside the courthouse unless they installed a coffee machine. But it was the principle of the thing, goddamn it! Nobody ever cared about Phoenix’s hunger strikes!

           Potentially entirely due to coffee, Godot was sitting on the scratchy sofa with his head tilted back and one earbud in his ear. Its cord snaked onto the cushions of the couch, attacked to some small black media player. Was he awake? Was he asleep? Was he dead? If they were really quiet, would he sleep through the trial and leave Phoenix to win by default –

           “They have a chartreuse board!” Maya screeched. “Those rat bastards!”

           Pearl gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Is that sushi? Free sushi!? I love sushi!”

           “Get my purse, Pearl-chan! Grab much as you can!”

           “So it’s hereditary,” Godot growled. Phoenix winced, instinctively checking for coffee cups in his vicinity. The familiar cheap coffee table seemingly only had one, but on closer look Nick could tell that they were carefully stacked into each other. How tidy! “How did you even know this place existed, Trite?”

           One of these days Phoenix was going to start pronouncing his name “guh-dot”. That would show him. He hadn’t mustered the courage yet, but one of these days! “How could I not know it existed?” Poker face, Phoenix. Look condescending. Evoke Edgeworth. Show him what’s what. Literally nobody else you know is scared of him, therefore you are not scared of him, we are manifesting absolute zen in the face of the tallest man Phoenix had ever met in his life. He was sitting down. This shouldn’t be hard. “It’s right next to the defendant’s lounge, how could we miss it?”

           “Is that so?” Godot slowly leaned forward, like a great beast awakening from a mighty slumber. His movements were stiff and disjointed, like a fat bear waking from hibernation. “The spotlight of truth must be like a floodlight to the most enlightened defense lawyers. Illuminating all. Hiding nothing. But shadows cling to the undersides of society, and true darkness lurking underneath the charcuterie board –“

           “I have the updated coroner’s report,” Phoenix said, flapping the envelope loosely. “Gumshoe wanted you to have the other copy.”

           “Yeah, give it here.”

           “If the charcuterie board is evil don’t tell me.” Maya was plowing through a hunk of goat cheese like a rabid coyote. “I don’t wanna know. None of my business. Put the wasabi in my coin purse, Pearl-chan.”

           There was something inherently evil about having a cheeseboard at the workplace, but the legal system couldn’t get much worse. Godot didn’t stand up from the couch – he just thrust out a hand, making shockingly childish little grabby hands, forcing Phoenix to cross the entire room and put it in his hands. Pearl ran up to Phoenix and helpfully smeared wasabi on his hand.

           Godot took the coroner’s report and dropped it on the table. He leaned back, reaffixing his earbud in his ear. “Charmed. Clean us out of the nori, girls, it’s Payne’s favorite and I want him to experience suffering.”

           Pearl helpfully tugged at Phoenix’s sleeve, dying it a light green. If he lost this case because the judge thought he smelled bad… “Can you pour me the last of the coffee, Mr. Nick? I wanna be a big girl and do it for me but the big jug is too heavy.”

           “Are you kidding? You’re way too young for coffee.” The last thing they needed was a nine year old bouncing off the walls. In a courtroom. During a murder case. Phoenix turned to Godot, who was biting his tongue and barely restraining himself from cursing out a nine year old. Was that blood? “You’ll want to take a look at that, Mr. Godot. There’s a new piece of evidence that could change everything.”

           “Save the dramatics for the courtroom.” Godot leaned back again, waving his hand absently. Yeah, that was definitely blood on his yellowed teeth. Phoenix had to admire the restraint. “What’s this new tidbit that’s so important, then?”

           Was he everyone’s errand boy? “The report’s right there, read it yourself.”

           “Seems like I was correct in pegging you as the lazy type, Trite. Look at you refusing to do a simple task.”

           Pearl made an ‘ooo’ing noise behind her hands. Maya broke a cracker in half, giving her the smaller piece. “Don’t say that world, Pearl-chan.”

           “What wo –“

           “You can’t insult me into doing the most basic aspect of your job. You read it.”

           “I’m a busy man. I’m hard at work actually making justice.” But he was sleeping?! “Defense attorneys clearly have nothing better to do than eat our precious cheeses. Show me that you can do the most basic element of the job.”

           Talk about a turnabout! This man had cranked the hostility meter up towards eleven and broke the knob off. Francizka had spent most of a year almost gnawing his face off, but she had never made Phoenix feel so specially hated. “Sorry, Godot, I’m not falling for it. But you’ll definitely want to read the report yourself. It has essential information for the trial in literally five minutes.”

           “If it’s so important than why did we give it to him at all?” Maya garbled, spewing pita chips everywhere. “We could have hid it and won this case!”

           “Because that’s unethical –“

           “You never let anything go! You and your silly ethics –“

           “Silly?!”

           Godot leaned forward and swept his hand over the table with incredibly unnecessary drama. He swept the folder into his hands, yanking the crumpled police report out. He ostentatiously snapped the paper and held it up to his visor, reading it closely. He nodded several times. He even hummed once.

           Finally, Godot straightened and tossed the report on the table. “Boring! So much for crucial evidence. You’re looking at the shadows in the cave and calling them innocent of heinous crimes, Mr. Trite. Turn away from illusions and overcome your cowardice by entering the deepest depths of Plato’s cave, facing your inner demons and reckoning with the truth of –“

           “Boring?” Phoenix cried. “The window for the potential time of the murder is completely different than we thought? And I’m the one living in a fantasy land?”

           Godot stared at him. “Really?” Phoenix made a garbled noise of outrage. Godot ignored him. “What’s the new window, then?”

           “Read it yourself!”

           “Hm.” Godot angled his head to the side, facing away from Phoenix. “Hey, little girl. I bet you can’t read.”

           Going for the throat?! Pearl clearly didn’t know whether or not to puff herself up in indignation or start crying. “I am such a good reader!!!!”

           “Really? Prove it.” Godot picked up the crumpled page and wave it at her. “Or are you a liar?”

           “Being a liar is for bad girls! I am a very good girl!” Pearl reached up on her tip-toes and nabbed the paper out of Godot’s hands. She scanned the page seriously, eyebrows furrowed. “Here! Right here! The new time of death is –“

           “Are you making a nine year old read a coroner’s report?!”

           Maya slurped slivers of ginger with pitying eyes. “She channels the dead, Nick.”

           “And that’s the time,” Pearl finished smugly. Phoenix hadn’t even heard her say it. She held out the papers to Godot again, who ignored her. “Now you know the time, because I am such a good reader.”

           “You’re a diamond in the rough, kid,” Godot told her seriously. “Never let these dullards dull your shine.”

           “My name’s not Diamond,” Pearl informed him, equally seriously. “It is Pearl Fey. Don’t feel bad. It’s a very common mistake.”

           “I don’t make mistakes, kid. I’m just one step ahead of reality. Count on it.”

           “You don’t have to be prideful, Mr. Godot.” Pearl smiled brightly and encouragingly at him, as if she was trying to connive a pit bull into a doing a trick. “It’s okay if you aren’t a good reader. Or if you aren’t a good speller. I’m a bad speller but that doesn’t make me a bad reader. Being a bad speller has nothing to do with being a good reader. I am a piece of decisive evidence about that.”

           Maya looked grimly at Phoenix, who was contemplating suicide again. “We’re ruined her vocabulary.”

           “We let her sit in during murder cases, Maya.”

           “And it’s ruined her vocabulary.”

           “What’s ruined your brain?”

           “Do you need me to read more things for you?” Pearl asked sweetly. “I like practicing my reading. I’m always practicing with Mr. Nick’s court records. They’re lots of fun and very educational. I can read ‘five counts of manslaughter’ very well. Do you want to see me spell it?”

           Godot looked at Maya. He looked at the coffee table, where the papers were not. He looked contemplative, maybe. Finally, he said, “How are you at serving coffee?”

           “If the jug is medium sized I can be very good at it!”

           “You’re hired.”

           Alright, that was enough. Phoenix had a lot of responsibilities, but his responsibility to Maya and Pearl came before every single one. That conviction had been put to test during that awful Engarde case. Phoenix almost sacrificed his integrity as a lawyer for Maya’s sake - he was not going to lose it now!

           “Absolutely not,” Phoenix said. It didn’t matter how insanely tall this guy was. Phoenix was taking a stand - right here, right now. Granted, the stand would go to his shoulder, but it was the conviction that counted! “Child labor is against the law, and her legal guardian does not give consent for this.” Phoenix made dangerous eyes at a cowed Maya, just to reaffirm that her legal guardian was not giving consent. “Don’t you have your own co-counsel? Make them do your chores, and stop stealing mine!”

           “I wasn’t planning on paying her,” Godot said affably. “That’s a violation of child labor laws, you know.”

           Maya appeared to be seriously considering his proposal. Which shouldn’t have been a big deal, but please refer back to the legal guardian wrinkle in this case. “I don’t know, Nick. Don’t you think it’s time Pearl flew out from underneath your shadow? It’s not exactly as if you pay me either.”

           “You’ll get paid when you do something helpful that gets me paid,” Phoenix said instantly. Maya glumly accepted this reality. “There’s no paycheck in moral support, Maya. Godot can use his own co-counsel –“

           “I don’t have a co-counsel,” Godot said. “Do I look like I’ve received an ounce of moral support in the last four years? Of kindness? Hell has no comradeship.”

           Phoenix flapped a hand. “Yeah, whatever. Your plucky imouto, co-counsel, whatever. Just get her to do it.”

           For the first time, Godot actually gave him a baffled look. Maybe. It was insanely hard to tell. “What would I do with a – younger sister, is it?”

           Everybody froze. You could have heard a penny drop. Maya and Pearl’s eyes practically goggled out of their heads.

           Godot just stood there, ignoring Pearl and Maya but clearly unsettled by the silence. “Cream and sugar undercuts the delectable bitterness of the black coffee. A life without siblings is a satisfyingly dark roast.”

           Slowly, Phoenix said, “I’m sorry. You’re a lawyer with no plucky female sidekick?”

           “I’ve had kouhai,” Godot said defensively. “I have a certain talent for mentorship –“

           “Mentorship? What makes you think you’re qualified to give any sort of mentorship? You’re a rookie!” Phoenix said the word ‘rookie’ like how Edgeworth said ‘polyester’, which was deeply satisfying. “And haven’t you lost every case you’ve ever taken?”

           Maya looked close to tears. “No wonder he’s such an awful lawyer…he doesn’t have a single imouto.”

           “Is that the ‘hell’ Mr. Godot talks about?” Pearl asked, voice wavering. “A world with no women?”

           “You’re projecting,” Godot snapped. “Just because you’re surrounded by teenage girls all day doesn’t mean any other lawyer is obligated to do the same.”

           “Any good lawyer. Why do you think Edgeworth has an imouto.” The thought of Edgeworth with no Franciska to hone his…edge…how sad. “And Franciska has Edgeworth as an imouto. This is law one-oh-one, Godot.” Phoenix propped his hands on his hips, grinning. “Hah! No wonder you can’t beat me! You don’t know the first thing about law, do you?”

           “And he can’t read,” Maya said sadly. “Maybe Mr. Godot isn’t exaggerating when he tells us how sad and pathetic he is…”

           “You thought he was exaggerating?”

           The tragic sight of the thoroughly baffled man clearly tugged at Pearl’s heartstrings, but she quickly found her resolve too. She rolled up her sleeves, as if they were at the office and she was ready to attack Phoenix’s toilet with a scrub brush. Once she had almost fallen in. “That does it! If Mr. Godot doesn’t have an imouto, then I’ll - ”

           “Nope. His problem, not ours.” Frankly, Phoenix was just trash talking a little. If you pretended Edgeworth and Franciska didn’t exist – impossible for Phoenix, but he could stretch his imagination – then Godot was a pretty good lawyer. To be a pretty good lawyer without the massive handicap of no young girl…Phoenix better stop giving the competition a hand like this. “Come on, the security guard’s started glaring at us again. It’s definitely time to start the trial.”

           “Your face will freeze like that, you know,” Pearl seriously told the security guard. He didn’t visibly react to her words at all. Maybe Pearl was onto something… “Mr. Nick, I have a duty to my fellow man -”

           “You can practice your reading with picture books, like a normal kid.” Pearl indignantly opened her mouth, doubtlessly about to launch into a meandering and breathless rant about her favorite Newberry Award winning children’s book author. “In English, not Japanese. Reading in English is your problem. At this rate you’re going to know how to read legalese and nothing else.” Phoenix yanked open the door, shepherding both girls out. Maya quickly stuffed more California rolls in her sleeve. “Bad enough Maya’s neglecting – Jesus Christ!”

           “You can’t give me a hard time about that,” Maya said reproachfully. “I’m Shinto.”

           Obviously, goddamn Gumshoe was at the door, one fist raised and clearly about to knock. His fist fell at the exact moment that Phoenix opened the door, and Phoenix only barely avoided a royal smack on the head by via Gumshoe’s meaty fist. He really couldn’t afford another concussion at this rate! CTE was a very serious brain disorder!

           “Mr. Wright! Hey, I thought I’d find you here! Right underneath my fist too! How’s that for some detective work, huh!” Gumshoe laughed uproariously, as if his crush wasn’t about to board her kayak and start doing the death row. And as if he hadn’t told Phoenix to go here. “Well, enough playing around! It’s time to get back to it! There’s no excuse for slacking off when Maggey’s life is on the line, you know!”

           “You’re the one who sent me on an errand!” Phoenix snapped. He shut the door tightly behind him. The last thing he needed was Godot adding his two cents. Or, knowing his wordiness, his two dollars. And change. “Did you forget telling me to give Godot the coroner’s report? It was five minutes ago!”

           “What? Why would I do that?” Gumshoe paused a second, creaky and rusty gears churning in his brain. Maya made demonstrative kissy noises. “Oh, yeah! Did you read it out to him?”

           Phoenix was going to have a fucking aneurysm. “Is there some reason why Prosecutor Godot is incapable of doing his own work? I’m already doing half the prosecutor’s job in the courtroom anyway!”

           “Some reason? Uh, yeah.” Gumshoe scratched the back of his neck, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s not exactly as if he can read the thing, you know.”

           “Oh my god,” Maya whispered, “he really can’t read.”

           Pearl’s eyes were brimming with tears. “A lawyer who can’t read…he’s so brave!”

           “Brave is one word for it,” Phoenix said flatly. How could he have ever been scared of this guy? No imouto, no literacy…the only thing impressive about him was how he’d even gotten this far. “It’s not my problem if Godot dropped out of fourth grade. He’s giving me enough problems, tell him to solve his own.”

           For some reason, Gumshoe outright glared at Phoenix. Phoenix was getting used to his misplaced ire over Xirneohp, but what did Maggey have to do with this? If anything, he should be thanking Phoenix for refusing to help the competition. “That’s out of line, pal! Haven’t you heard of basic human decency?”

           “In a courtroom? No.”

           “He’s got you there,” Maya said wisely. “When Nick’s putting the ‘Nick’ in ‘panicked’, then he can do some pretty sketchy stuff –“

           “And you call me the narc?!”

           “The courtroom doesn’t matter.” Gumshoe was still scowling at Phoenix. Of course it’s only Phoenix who gets treated like this. Edgeworth insults Gumshoe all day and he’s still his biggest fan. “I told you specifically to read out the autopsy report so Prosecutor Godot could record it into his PDA. Then he always labels it with that funny little label maker of his. You gotta get your ears cleaned out, pal.”

           Phoenix turned to Maya and Pearl, silently pleading for backup. Gumshoe was making Phoenix doubt his own sanity. Normally he just made Phoenix think he was losing it.

           But Maya just looked tragically disappointed in him. “Nick…you didn’t even let Godot label it with his funny little label maker?”

           Desperately, Phoenix rounded on Pearl. He was ready to fake tears. But Pearl just looked ready to whale on him with her little fists. “How could you, Mr. Nick? I didn’t get to see Mr. Godot’s cassette recorder! I’ve always wanted to touch one!”

           “Ah, Prosecutor Godot’s things are always super fun to touch!” At least Gumshoe looked sufficiently cheered up. “His bumpy labels make no sense to me, but I think they’re super cool. Like a secret code or something. But Prosecutor Godot always dumps coffee on my head when I mess around with them…makes me put ‘em back in order, then he says I’m doing it wrong, and…I won’t say I miss the whip, but prosecutors can be so rough sometimes.”

           Wait. Hold on a minute. Several different small pieces clicked into place, and Phoenix’s familiar trusty intuition began to churn its gears. Phoenix raised one finger, and Gumshoe instinctively ducked. “Detective…that label maker wouldn’t happen to be a Braille label maker, would it?”

           Gumshoe brightened, nodding voraciously. Then he apparently remembered he was angry at Phoenix, and started scowling instead. “Yeah, that’s what he called it! And I’ve just caught ya in a contradiction, pal! You said I didn’t tell you about the bumpy label maker. But you obviously knew what it was, didn’t you? You really were lacking human decency on purpose, weren’t you!”

           Cool. Phoenix wished he was dead.

  Both girls looked at Phoenix immediately, correctly deducing the return of his consistent suicidality but uncertain of the cause. Phoenix pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. “Braille is an alphabet for the blind. You read it by feeling little bumps with your fingers. Apparently Prosecutor Godot is some level of blind. And apparently nobody saw fit to tell us this.”

“Did we gotta?” Gumshoe asked blankly. “Mr. Godot doesn’t like talking about it.”

“Yes, you gotta! Now I look like some kind of - you know!”

Sure enough, Maya was giving him the most judgmental look he’d ever seen. Her face when full-ass adult Maximillian admitted that he had asked a sixteen year old to marry him was nothing in comparison. “You were bullying the blind, Nick? I can’t believe you!”

What was it, bully Phoenix for something that was not his fault week? “It’s his fault for not saying anything -”

“Victim blaming?!”

“I thought he was just being an as - jerk again! It’s not exactly out of character!”

“Ableism,” Maya denounced. Phoenix drooped. “I can’t believe it. I expected better from you, Nick.”

“I’m literally ADHD, don’t give me this -”

“Who isn’t autistic?” Maya said frankly. “That doesn’t count.”

“Plenty of people in this world are neurotypical, Maya.” 

He’d had to explain this multiple times. Sometimes she even made him doubt himself. It wasn’t as if he knew neurotypical people. The people in Phoenix’s life either knew they were neurodivergent or thought that normal people were the freak. Most fell into the later category. Unfortunately. Lana wasn’t winning sister of the year, but Ema’s diagnosis and Ritalin prescription was probably his sole link to sanity during that case. Phoenix had a conspiracy theory that Gumshoe plus Ritalin would produce a shockingly competent person. Like everybody else on the prosecutor’s side, he had no idea.

There was no way Edgeworth knew he was autistic, but Phoenix was softening him up for the revelation. He had to take it slow. Couldn’t afford for him to run off to the Philippines to find himself and then come home acting as if he invented autism. Again. Like he did with homosexuality. Shut up about the German discotheques, Edgeworth!

“Mr. Godot is blind?” Pearl gasped. Horrifically, Phoenix was relieved that she knew what blind people were. “Is that why he couldn’t read? And you made fun of him! That’s bullying, Mr. Nick!”

This was a thousand times worse coming from Pearl. “I wouldn’t say I made fun of him,” Phoenix said evasively. “If anything, I really think he’s been bullying me.” This did not impress Maya and Pearl, who somehow only looked more disappointed in him. Phoenix began to sweat. “I got nothing against the disabled, guys. They’re - like, they’re fine! Some of my best friends are -”

“Autism doesn’t count,” Maya said frostily. “You’ll never get your Disability Awareness and Inclusion Girl Scout badge at this rate, Nick.”

“I - am I a nine year old girl now? Seriously?”

Pearl straightened, eyes widening. “I’m a nine year old girl!” Phoenix gestured towards her, emphasizing the handful of differences between them. Gumshoe nodded vigorously. “Can I get a disability aware badge? I’m aware of disabled people!” Left unsaid: unlike Phoenix, apparently. Yet another difference between him and nine year old girls.

“You aren’t a Girl Scout,” Phoenix said, exhausted. “If that’s something you’re interested in, we can sign you up -”

“Girl Scouts! That’s a great idea. I was a Girl Scout way back when. It was awfully rewarding.” Gumshoe gave Pearl a big thumbs up, as if he hadn’t casually dropped the most insane bomb of all time and promptly moved on. “You’re probably overqualified for the Legal Expert and Fortune Teller badges. You could really make it!”

That was it. They had lost her. Pearl rolled her sleeves up, puffing out her chest with pride, and before Phoenix could react she had already turned around and pushed the lobby doors open. They swung open with a theatrical flair, revealing -

Godot, just on the other side of the doors. Judging by his somewhat harried look and unbalanced stance, he had also just barely managed to avoid door-to-face impact. Or, more likely, door-to-visor impact. 

Pearl either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She jabbed a finger at Godot, who still seemed dazed from the unintentional assault. “I’m taking your case, Mr. Godot! I’ll be your co-counsel! I’ll find you innocent of all charges - um, not that!”

“I lost all innocence a long time ago,” Godot said darkly. He pushed past them, flagrantly brushing off everybody. “If you wish to scout for something, scout for that. It ought to distract you from standing around and wasting time with meaningless gossip.”

Phoenix winced. He didn’t seem very happy. But he never really did - cheerful and amused, frequently, but almost never actually happy. “Uh, hey, man. I’m really sorry about - in my defense, you were actively hiding it -”

“Classic defense attorney,” Maya announced. “Always defending himself!”

“Mr. Edgeworth says that the attorney who represents himself has a fool for a client,” Pearl said helpfully, blissfully unaware of that one time Phoenix had to defend himself against a murder charge. Edgeworth had known. Obviously. 

“Save your pity, Trite. Save it for the courtroom. So you can pity yourself.” Godot held up one hand, not even bothering to aim it in Phoenix’s direction. “Out of all of your victims, of course you would pity yourself the most.”

“Dude,” Phoenix said, “did I, like, ghost you the morning after or something? I’m sorry about it, but becoming a lawyer because I didn’t text you back is a little weird.”

“A little weird?” Gumshoe said, baffled. “That’s a crazy accusation, Wright. Who would become a whole lawyer because of a guy?” Phoenix looked at the ceiling. Godot coughed. “I don’t like the sound of that cough, pal.”

“For whom does the bell toll, Detective?” Godot said. Maya looked actively distressed as she attempted and failed to decipher what the fuck he meant by that. “I’ll see you all in court. Prepare yourselves. I don’t intend on losing to the likes of you.”

He turned on his heel, striding down the hallway and escaping them all as quickly as possible. Pearl gasped, and she immediately let go of Maya’s hand so she could set off barrelling down the hallway. “Hold on! Wait for me, Mr. Godot!”

Godot didn’t look back. But he did slow until Pearl caught up, and when she shoved her little hand in his large one he didn’t pull away. 

Gumshoe scratched his chin. Maya squinted at the departing duo, obviously wondering how Godot knew where to take a left turn at the hallway. Phoenix made a mental note of it too. For a blind guy, he was really familiar with the courthouse…which meant that Phoenix’s mistake was perfectly reasonable! Anybody would make it! “Just double checkin’. You two are actually cool with sending off a little girl with the sketchiest grown man ever? Completely unsupervised and stuff?”

What, seriously? Phoenix and Maya glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you can’t trust your coworkers,” Maya intoned seriously, “you can’t trust anybody. Nobody’s more trustworthy than a real lawyer.”

“And Edgeworth recommended him,” Phoenix pointed out. “Good enough for me. The state of California would never have certified him as a defense attorney if he wasn’t trustworthy.”

“That doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about the law to dispute it,” Gumshoe said cheerfully, displaying a chain of logic that had proven extremely convenient for Phoenix over the years. Maya had once tricked Gumshoe into letting them into a crime scene by pretending that there was a legal holiday once a year where every law and police procedure was inverted. “Don’t we got a trial to hit, anyway?”

“Shit!”

Pearl’s inaugural performance as the prosecution’s co-counsel/imouto went off without a hitch. Phoenix couldn’t be prouder of her efforts. She played her part perfectly: from the well-timed timed motivational encouragements to tension-relieving funny quips, she was a natural. Her only experience co-counseling with Phoenix had been very stressful for her, so Phoenix was happy to see her shine with confidence. Pearl Fey was truly suited for villainy.

She even went above and beyond into the role of personal assistant imouto. She carefully managed the presented evidence, holding up the right photograph or blood-stained object for the purview of the court. Pearl read out any written reports, described the evidence that Phoenix presented, and reported on any notable body language. Phoenix wasn’t sure if Godot knowing that ‘the Defense looks like you ate the last onigiri he was saving for lunch…’ was remotely helpful, but it was cute. Godot better realize how lucky he was to have such a top-quality imouto at his side today. It confused the judge, but what didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” the judge said, as Pearl carefully withdrew a generic white coffee mug from a large box underneath the table. Seemingly…filled with more mugs.  “Doesn’t that little girl belong to the Defense?”

“The Defense is loaning her out today,” Phoenix said seriously. Pearl began wrangling a coffee pot the size of her head. “Don’t worry, it’s not a conflict of interest.”

“I see!” Pearl carefully tipped the large pot into the white mug. It spilled everywhere, but coffee was poured. “And what is a ‘conflict of interest’?”

“Obscure old legal term. Don’t worry about it.” Pearl reached over the table and attempted to slide the mug towards Godot, as the unlucky draftee from the audience always did. He just pointed at a random pot in the crowd and told somebody that they were in charge of his coffee today. Terribly unorganized way to do things. 

“Watch it, you senile old man. The Defense is distracting you with outdated legal concepts. Focus on the most important aspect of this case!” Why was only the prosecution allowed to insult the judge! Why were they the only ones allowed to get away with that! Seriously unfair! As if Phoenix didn’t want to strangle the judge with his own two hands too?!

The mug scooted forward a little, but barely moved. Pearl scowled and tried again, sliding the mug forward a few inches and sloshing coffee over the side again. Pearl huffed in frustration before carefully cupping her hand around the mug and pushing it forward as she walked down the table. 

Godot cupped his hand on the table and let Pearl push the cup into his hand. Then he slammed the table, throwing his head back and chugging the entire mug of steaming hot coffee in one go. He slammed the mug back on the table. Pearl carefully retrieved it. 

“The fact that the old man and this fake Frenchman saw the accused put poison in the cup!” Godot announced. “That’s one fact that can’t be denied! Not by a reliable witness!”

Pearl clapped. Godot patted her on the head. Phoenix groaned.

Phoenix got his way - as usual - by the skin of his teeth - as usual. He was going to have a heart attack before he was thirty at this rate. Phoenix and Maya waited in the courtroom lobby for almost fifteen minutes before Pearl finally came running up to them. She was beaming, cheeks flushed red with pride. 

“Great job out there today, Pearl!” Maya cheered, clapping her hands. Yeah - a little too good. Godot’s performance in court was way smoother than last time. Maybe he was just getting his sea legs, but Phoenix never underestimated the power of young girls pursuing merit badges. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Nuh-uh! Mr. Godot said he’s gonna take me out for ice cream!” Pearl thrust her hand out, shining the biggest, wettest gaze directly into his eyes. “Can I have money for ice cream, Nick? Please?”

“Typically speaking, when you take people out for food, you’re the one paying,” Phoenix said flatly. “Mr. Godot’s on a prosecutor’s salary and I’m representing a waitress. He can pay.” 

“Mr. Godot doesn’t get paid,” Pearl said frankly. “He said he does it for the love of the game.”

This was somehow the most surprising thing he’d heard all day and completely predictable. 

Maya frowned, tilting her head. It was a gesture he’d seen in Mia a thousand times. Even after all this time, Maya still hurt him in those little ways. “Prosecutors get paid by the government. How do you legally work for the government and not get paid?”

“Maybe he’s a volunteer?” Phoenix suggested. “People volunteer at places, right? Like…in zoos?”

“That makes sense!” Maya said brightly, clapping her hands together. “Zoos, a court of law…what’s the difference, right?”

“After we’re done with it, not much.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t meet the parrot,” Pearl said, crushed by the immovable weight of the world’s injustices. “I wanted to make friends. We have so much in common.”

Maya sympathetically patted Pearl’s back. “You do! You’re both so good at imitating voices! Maybe one day Phoenix can cross-examine you too, huh?”

Nope. No. No way! “Not happening. I’ve accused every imouto I’ve ever had of murder on the stand. Pearl’s merciless enough, we can’t take that chance. She wouldn’t make it a day in prison.” 

“Sounds like a you problem,” Maya said, unimpressed. “Godot would never accuse an imouto of murder. He’s a bro like that.”

“He’s a prosecutor, it’s not his job -”

“Apparently being a prosecutor isn’t his job either.”

“You’d make an unemployed man pay for my ice cream?” Pearl demanded. “For shame, Mr. Phoenix Wright!”

Phoenix sighed and pulled out his wallet. He didn’t know why he wasted time pretending this wasn’t going to happen. Pity he wasn’t in the habit of accepting the inevitable. His life would be a lot easier.

[messrmoonyy]

- you sunshine, you temptress

Tess Servopoulos x Female reader

Request- already in like Jackson, and so Ellie and Joel live together but Tess doesn’t. They’re new in town so they’re still not used to the whole nice civilized thing, but the reader is her nice neighbor who wears her down. She plants stuff and even like cooks for tess. But she’s not a wimp either, very skilled with guns and stuff. Just a fic where they meet and like reader takes care of Tess. Smut too if you want

A/N- I took this request and ran with it. It took me a long ass time I apologise but I do really like how this turned out. It became far more angsty than I’m sure you wanted it to be but. Here we are. I wanted to explore an idea that Tess didn’t like Jackson and took time to adjust, didn’t really like reader as well. Tess leaning to adjust and love and be loved. Also in transferring this over none of my italics saved and I could’nt be fucked to go back through this again and add them back lmao

Warnings- 18+ | tess is quite low for the majority of this, canon compliant discussions of death and violence, vague/ implied smut (wc- 13.2k )

Tess masterlist | AO3 - Tess requests are open but not currently top priority

SPRING

Tess didn’t like Jackson. Not at first. The drastic change from Boston to the nomadic lifestyle she had been living with Ellie and Joel as they crossed the country had been difficult enough. But to then transfer to something so wildly different from both of those things? Yeah. It took some getting used to.

She didn’t quite know what she had been expecting really. Maybe something like Boston but without the soldiers. Small pockets of people doing their own things to get by, together for safety but nothing much else. Not the working, thriving town she had walked into. Not the cleanliness, the stores, the diner, the hot water- that apparently was only a little temperamental in the colder months compared to year round like Boston- and clean clothes. Jobs. Families. Farming. She felt like she was in an alternate dimension.

She didn’t like the way everyone was so… cheerful. Which was a weird thing to say, but it was true. Because it threw her off.

She had developed her own bubble of happiness with Joel and Ellie over the months. They laughed together at Ellie’s shitty jokes, shared in her joy when she found a can of ravioli she liked. But would be stoney faced in an instant to protect each other. Joel and Ellie she loved like family, they were her family. She was used to warm smiles from them, a desire to be near her and talk to her. She wasn’t used to it from others.

Other people were scared of her. They moved out of her way and they did as she asked. They kept their heads down in case they upset her and they didn’t cross her path. But not in Jackson. No.

They smiled at her in the street, asked her how she was, said good morning.

And it spooked her. She didn’t like it. And she hated that she didn’t. That she had become so hardened that genuine kindness scared her. Because no one was kind anymore. No one showed care unless they wanted something else in return.

So she didn’t know how to take it. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the new found trust people had in her, their ease at having her around. To her surprise Joel didn’t seem to be struggling as much. He had Tommy back after all and that seemed to be easing his discomfort. Ellie was fitting in… kinda. Her colourful vocabulary and brashness had put some of the kids off at first. But they seemed to be warming to her now.

So it was just her. Trapped in some odd isolated headspace where she didn’t quite know what to do. She didn’t mention it to Joel, didn’t want to interfere with him and Tommy as they rebuilt their relationship again. Maria had tried to pull Tess into things more, and Tess liked her. Maria didn’t take shit, she had power and was in charge. People respected her. And she didn’t let Tess mope around for too long either.

But even Maria couldn’t quite pull her out of that disconnected state completely.

Part of her felt she was being ungrateful. She was alive and as safe as anyone could possibly hope to be in the current climate. Joel was alive. Ellie was alive. She was alive. But there was just… something.

Maybe a sick part of her missed it. Missed Boston. But then again maybe it wasn’t so sick. She hadn’t liked Boston really. But spending so long in one place would always make it hard to leave behind. Even the things she had so often complained about. She found she couldn’t even sleep on her new bed, Jackson having been looked after for so long that the mattress was actually still soft. She was too used to the lumpy one in the zone, and sleeping on the ground for months.

She’d been sleeping on the couch since she’d arrived. If she even managed to sleep at all, unable to fall asleep on the soft sheets and bed.

She missed her power too. Got tetchy when she thought about who was running operations back in the zone now. Who was living in her and Joel’s apartment, had they found their stash? Who was selling her shit and walking around like she had? She had to remind herself she shouldn’t care. That wasn’t her life anymore. It never would be again. Boston was a distant memory she needed to put to rest.

But it was difficult.

The new house felt too big. The town too clean. The people too nice. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with herself. She mildly regretted living separately from Joel. Just out of… familiarity. She wasn’t used to such an open space to herself. Even before the outbreak the house she had shared with her husband and son hadn’t been so big. And she had had two other bodies to fill the space.

In Boston that tiny apartment she had had Joel to fill the gaps.

But she knew she couldn’t impose on him any longer. Joel was handsome and mellowing. He would no doubt find someone in town… and she couldn’t be the one to stand in the way of that. Especially seeing as she herself had no desire to go there. Their relationship had always been purely platonic and she had no intention of changing that.

So when Maria had asked, she had taken her own place. Ellie had taken the garage. They all had their own space. But those two seemed far better at living in it than she was.

It had taken that stark shift though for her to realise that maybe she simply wasn’t made for being alone. She had met her husband in college. They had moved in together immediately after, and had their son young. Then she’d fallen into the group heading for Boston, met Joel… she’d never really been alone.

Though she also wasn’t particularly doing anything to change that either. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Back in Boston she’d get lonely from time to time, would go out and pick someone up with ease. Now? She didn’t know where that confidence had gone.

She felt people looking at her when she ventured out. She knew she wasn’t exactly unattractive, she knew people liked to look. But she had no desire to pursue. She didn’t even entertain them for a second. And they all grew bored of trying and moved on.

Everyone was friendly enough, but some kept their distance when they realised she wasn’t the… happiest of people. But one person didn’t let the permanent frown glued to Tess’ face deter them.

You.

You lived across the street from her, would wave hello every morning when Tess ventured out to find out what tasks Maria had to keep her busy for the day. You’d smile. You’d say hello. You even left her things on the porch.

And you liked flowers.

She gathered that pretty quickly. The window boxes were full, potted bushes and blooms littered your porch and edge of the dirt path street. It made her own place look incredibly dull. But maybe that was fitting.

She’d never been one for flowers. So expensive for them to just sit and wilt away in a vase, to be left with nothing but some crisped petals and dead stems within a week. So amongst the sandwiches and pies left at her door, the odd flowering embellishments she knew came from you.

A lot of people in town left stuff for her and Joel, to welcome them. To give them things they needed. She didn’t like accepting any of it. She didn’t like the feeling of… owing people. Feeling like they would have a hold over her, that they had given her a new jacket so now she owed them something. That you had left her a pie so now you were owed something too.

So she left the majority of it exactly where it was placed on the porch, Maria being the one to bring them inside for her.

“ You are gonna attract every damn animal in town if you keep leaving this stuff on your porch Tess “ Maria used as a greeting when Tess opened the door one morning, seeing the woman standing there with what seemed to be a loaf in her hands “ and wasting food? Really? Especially this? Now this looks delicious. Still warm too “ Tess scoffed but before she could speak she heard your voice.

“ Good morning Maria! Good morning Tess! “ she looked over Maria’s shoulder to see you jogging down your porch steps and waving, thankfully turning to walk into town rather than try and start a conversation

“ morning hun “ Maria responded with a smile, glancing over to Tess when she ignored you as she always did.

“ what? “ Maria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in the way she so often did when she was at her wits end. Usually with Ellie and Joel’s bickering.

“ I’ve told you a million times. We all get along here. It’s a small town Tess, you can’t have grudges. Or.. at least public ones. I have a few secret ones myself “ Tess sighed and stepped back to let Maria inside, who only sighed too when she eyed the blanket on the couch “ you’re still sleeping on the couch? “

Tess brushed her off and grabbed her boots from by the door, sitting down to pull them on. She could already sense another of Maria’s lectures brewing, and the headache pulsing behind her temples made her hope she’d hold off on it.

“ I just fell asleep there I was… reading “ Maria did not seem even remotely convinced and walked through to place the bread down in the kitchen.

“ And what’s with the silent treatment with the doll across the street? “

“ she’s too… happy “ Maria laughed and shook her head

“ She's harmless. She’s kind “

“ she’s fuckin annoying “ Maria’s eyebrows flew up and she gave a small laugh again

“ Theresa “ it sounded almost scolding. Tess scoffed at that “ you sound like Ellie “ Tess scoffed again. Fucking Ellie?

“ calling me a kid now Maria? “

“ yeah. Cause you’re acting like one “ she sighed and stood with her hands on her hips, the way that told anyone nearby that she meant business. To shut the fuck up and listen to her “ you’re here now. And you need to stop isolating yourself “ she walked over to her and placed a hand to her arm, a gentle comforting squeeze “ I know it’s hard. I do. But you have to try “

She knew she did. She was just stubborn and stuck in her ways. And you really were… peppy. One of those people that seemed constantly in a good mood, seeing the world through rose tinted glasses and trying to spread your joy.

Tess’ own glasses had smashed a long long time ago. And she saw no reason for the amount of joy you seemed to hold.

“ I’m trying “

“ Try harder then “ Maria said before folding her arms and tilting her head a little as she watched her “ what’s going on with you? “ Tess stood up again and ran a hand through her hair, wishing she knew. Wishing she had the words to explain.

But how could she? How could she tell Maria that she wanted to go home? She wanted Boston back. That she felt out of place in Jackson and had never felt as lonely as she did in her entire life.

“ I’m fine. I’m just tired. Shall we go? “ Maria didn’t seem convinced but nodded, following her outside.

It was a nice day. Spring was in full swing now, in the weeks between Salt Lake City and settling into town the chill of winter had finally disappeared. She could see daffodils sprouting in the window boxes of your house. Her own were barron.

“ I’ve put you on farming rotation today. Sounds good? “ she nodded “ okay. It’s easy enough. Pot things, label things, pull things. It’s quite therapeutic “ she’d be the judge of that one.

She followed Maria around to the greenhouses, watching how people greeted her and smiled when they saw her. She didn’t know whether she was jealous or annoyed.

“ okay. Greenhouse 4, shouldn’t take more than a couple hours. When you’ve finished in there come find me if you want to help out some more. Okay? "She followed where Maria was pointing and stopped when she spotted someone already inside greenhouse 4.

“ are you fuckin kidding me Maria“

You.

Maria smiled and squeezed her shoulders, leaning close to her ear

“ Be nice “ Tess scoffed and turned to try and beg her to assign her anywhere else but there, but Maria was already walking off.

“ Maria- “

“ be. Nice! “

“ fuck “ she gave a frustrated huff and headed into the greenhouse, you turned around at the sound with that usual beaming smile on your face. She didn’t have the energy for this today. Didn’t have the energy for you.

“ Oh hi. I didn’t know I was paired with you today “ she stood not really knowing what she was supposed to do, annoyance practically steaming out of her ears “ you wanna get that side and I’ll continue with this side? Seeds are in that bag there, compost and soil is there, tools in the crate under the table. Okay? “

She gave a small nod and headed for the crate of tools, pulling out a small trowel and grabbing a pot. But she found her hands refusing to move. Simply staring down at the equipment in her hands. It felt like a weight was pushing down on her shoulders, crushing her chest, turning all of her muscles to lead.

“ I thought Maria would’ve had you trained up for patrols by now “ you said lightly, the sound of your trowel filling another pot “ from what I’ve heard your pretty handy with a gun “

What had you heard?

“ yeah “ she said, almost having to force herself to reply “ soon… they don’t like new people straight on patrol “ her hands still wouldn’t move.

“ figures. You could always ask her to put you on my regular route at first if you like. It’s one of the busier ones, you seem a little stressed. And well blowing the head off a clicker might be beneficial “ you laughed as you said it but quite frankly she felt you were right.

She didn’t like being unarmed. Adults in town were allowed to own their own weapons but weren’t to bring them out of their house unless they were heading on patrol. Her back pocket felt too empty without her gun there. Her fingers itched to hold it, if only for the familiarity of the metal on her fingers.

“ or why don’t you see if she’ll assign you on the hunting crew? Shooting rabbits isn’t exactly as fun as putting down clickers but. You know it’s something “ you seemed fully convinced that the answer to Tess’ supposed stress was killing something one way or another.

What had you heard about her? Who had been talking?

“ right “ she still hadn’t potted a single seed, some unmoving crushing sense of dread still heavy on her shoulders.

She didn’t know why the weight of her problems was weighing her down so heavily in the last few days. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just adjust to Jackson. Why was she feeling more anxious and depressed in the safest possible place she could be, than when she had been living under the looming threat of being murdered everyday?

No normal person's mind worked that way. No normal decent person craved the life she had once had. The familiarity back at least. She felt sick.

You were humming a song to yourself now. It felt irrationally loud in her ears. She could hear Maria’s voice in her head too. Telling her to try. To try be nice. Try to mingle.

“ thank you. For the bread “ she said in an attempt at conversation. She’d known it was you that had left it. Had seen the sprig of some kind of flower tucked into the cloth it was wrapped in. Obviously you “ but I don’t need charity “

“ it’s not charity “ you said, the sound of your tools stilling “ it’s a gift. I don’t know… welcome to town gesture that’s all “

“ Whatever it was. I don’t need it “ maybe this wasn’t exactly nice. But it needed to be said “ you can take it back if you want. I haven’t touched it “

“ alright “ she didn’t have to look at you to know your face would be reminiscent of a kicked puppy “ keep the lavender though. It’s calming… it’ll help you sleep” she turned around to look at you then. How did you know she wasn’t sleeping?

“ how- “

“ I came from a QZ myself, I spent years after that roaming. I know it takes time to adjust Tess. I barely slept a wink when I first got here… paranoid an infected was gonna jump me in my sleep or FEDRA was gonna come arrest me cause they suspected me of rebel activity… silly I know but. Our brains are hardwired into survival mode and it takes some time to shake it off “

It sounded genuinely sincere. Caring. She barely knew you and yet you seemed as though you actually wanted to help her. It made her skin prickle.

“ yeah. Well. I’m not you “ she turned back around as if to resume her previous activity. Though she had still not potted a single seed.

“ That's very clear “ even annoyed you sounded remotely cheerful still. Like no malice truly laced your words.

What was she doing here? The world was a hell hole, it was full of shitty people all doing shitty things. And there she was planting fucking carrots. In some odd altercation with you about her behaviour.

“ Tess? Everything okay? "Your hand falling on her shoulder shocked her into reality. She stepped away from your touch, moving so quickly it was as if you’d burnt her, heading for the door. She felt like she was suffocating she needed to get out “ Tess? “

“ I- I have to go “ you hurried out after her and she took a deep breath of the fresh air trying to calm herself. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t skittish and scared. She didn’t get anxious and erratic. She didn’t recognise herself anymore.

“ Can I do anything? I can get Maria or-“

“ look. I know you mean well. But I don’t need… any of this. I don’t need you thinking you’re helping all of the time “ her words were harsh and as much as you annoyed her, it was like looking at a kicked puppy “ just. Stop “

She turned away from you and headed straight for home. Home. Home that felt nothing like the word.

She felt ungrateful. People were sleeping out in the woods or in derelict buildings basically waiting to be attacked by infected. And she had a house. Warmth. Safety. But she couldn’t shake the feelings and she hated it.

She closed the town out behind her, closing the door and leaning against it to catch her breath. Why was this all so difficult for her? Why was she so incapable of adjusting to some kind of regular society again?

She debated talking to Joel. If anyone in town understood her it was him. Joel knew her inside out, could talk to her with just a look, knew what she was going to do before she did it. But he was settling in fine. He wasn’t struggling like she was. She didn’t want to weigh him down with that when he finally seemed so light.

She hid away for the rest of the day, almost expecting Maria to come and drag her back out again. But she didn’t to her relief. She had her peace and quiet to mope. To wallow in her own stupid sadness and isolation.

Until the evening.

She sighed when there was a knock on the door, probably Ellie ready to go charging around the room rambling off every piece of information about her day with an amused Joel in tow. Though she actually wouldn’t mind that.

But it wasn’t Ellie. Or Joel.

“ hey “

“ I thought- “

“ I know. Look. I just wanted to come and tell you I was sorry if I offended you or something. You just… you seemed like you needed a friend and I wanted to help “ she could tell you genuinely meant it. That you truly were one of those people that was just… nice. Good. Even after the past two decades that had twisted and warped so many others, herself included, you had somehow remained what she assumed was the same.

“ well I don’t… need any help “ you gave a small nod but didn’t immediately leave, shuffling a little awkwardly on the spot “ anything else? “

“ I noticed. I noticed you don’t have anything in the window boxes. I have some spare seeds… flowers can really help brighten the place up. I find that on sad days it’s always a little bit nicer to look at a flower than an empty box “ she opened her mouth to decline, to tell you she didn’t want you in her way. But you seemed to anticipate it “ you won’t even have to see me. Or talk to me. I can do it when you’re not home or if you are I can… I can just knock so you know I’m there. So you can wait for me to leave or- it’s just an idea “

She figured that in the long run giving you something to do that you might take as being helpful, might actually make you leave her alone a little more. And so, ever so slightly reluctantly, she sighed and nodded.

“ fine “ the smile on your face after that almost made her want to smile too. Almost. So kind. So genuine. So… bright.

“ yeah? Okay. Do you have any preferences? Or allergies? Colours maybe- “ she lifted a hand in a silent request for you to shut up.

Be nice.

She closed her eyes for a moment and gave a steady sigh, forcing some attempt at a smile onto her face.

“ anything. Anything is fine “ you gave a nod and turned slightly before pausing. You seemed to debate something for a moment before delving into your pocket and pulling out a small jar of something that looked like jam.

“ I know… I know you said you didn’t want- it goes real nice with the bread “ she waited a second before taking it from your hands. You said nothing else, just gave her a small nod of a goodbye and headed down the steps and across the street.

That evening she ate bread with the jam. It was annoyingly good.

———————————

You’d appeared the next morning to plant the seeds. And then you tended to them everyday. Watering them and doing god knows what to the soil. You would let her know you were there each time, a small knock on the door that you didn’t even mind if she didn’t answer. Just letting her know you were out there. Just as you’d said.

And as time passed she found herself answering it from time to time. Just poking her head around the door to see what you were doing, always there with your small watering can and a smile.

And that was okay. You were okay. Nothing else in her life felt right at that moment. But having a new constant did. And she had to admit that even when she woke up on the couch, rubbing at her sore neck, seeing the sprouts through the window almost made her crack a smile. Almost.

SUMMER

As the cold completely shifted from Jackson’s air she found that not even the warmth could truly raise her mood completely. Everyone in town seemed far more cheery, like the sun had some odd healing ability to make everyone more joyful after the bitter winter and the final week of spring which had been nothing but solid rain fall.

Though Tess, begrudgingly enough, found that her own joys still only stemmed from her family. But also from you. As much as she refused to admit it, she’d found herself looking forward to your small knocks on her door each morning, or on mornings where she left early for patrol she found herself almost hoping you’d be on the porch with your watering can and your smile.

Which she didn’t exactly understand or care to understand either. In fact she blatantly ignored the voices in her head warning that she was going soft. That she was beginning to almost look at you as some kind of friend.

She opened the door more often than not now, even made attempts to ask you about the flowers or ask about your day. You never probed her about herself which she liked. You didn’t pry. You let her be. You let her keep her walls fiercely guarded without so much as a complaint. And she kind of hated the fact that made her like you a little more.

And that morning was no different to the rest now, you had knocked and she had gone out to say hello. Had offered you tea and you had accepted as you so often did.

Her night had been filled with bad dreams. And she had feared that it would send her into another one of those days. Where she wanted to do nothing but hide and mope. But she had forced herself to go outside. At least to say hello.

Annoyingly to her, Maria had been right. And she lived there now. And that meant she had to try. She had to try adjust. Fit in. Be… nice.

She still felt wary around you. Maybe even more so because of how she was beginning to sort of like you. Or maybe tolerate was the better word. She told herself it was anyway. But she had been in Jackson a few months at this point. And after a few months your joy and happiness was bound to wear her down. Even if she was reluctant about it.

“ you know if you take good enough care of these they’ll bloom next spring too “ you said as she hovered by the door watching you “ it takes time and care though. Pretty things but strong enough to survive the winter if they’re tended too correctly “ your eyes flitted up to her for a moment as you said it and she felt the statement were a little more loaded than just being about the flowers.

“ I’ll leave that up to you “ you smiled warmly and looked back down at the plants.

“ here’s hoping “

Tess watched you carefully, still unsure exactly how to pinpoint what she was feeling. She was beginning to like having you around. But also your joy drove her insane. You were annoying. So unbelievably annoying with your bright smile and desire to care.

And yet… you had managed to be the one to coax her out of the house. Yes it was only to her porch but it was still out. You had given her something to almost look forward to each day.

She didn’t like it.

“ oh shit “ she blinked a couple of times to drag herself out of her head to see blood in her peripheral, dripping between your fingers and between the floorboards of the porch.

“ what did you- “

“ fucking sheers they slipped I. Look, it's fine it’s just a cut… You got a bandage or something? “ Tess nodded and glanced towards her door. She realised how bad it would seem to keep you out on the porch. To just leave you there whilst she went looking. But also the thought of you in her home…

“ yeah. Do you wanna… come in? Wanna wash it or something “ part of her almost wished you’d say no, but the relief on your face made her regret the thought instantly

“ thanks Tess “ she headed straight for the kitchen. Not even looking to see if you were behind her, rummaging around in a cupboard for her box of medical supplies.

“ wash it. The sink “ she murmured, watching you carefully from the corner of her eye as you headed for the sink beside her, cupping your hand in some attempt to not drip blood onto the tiles. She looked at your bloody hands, ignoring the guilt rising in her chest at the fact you had injured yourself doing something for her, and reached out for you. She held your cut hand in her palm, leading it carefully under the water. She could feel you watching her, eyes almost burning into her skin as she gently washed away the blood and the soil.

She focussed on the pink swirls twisting down the drain rather than looking at you.

She didn’t like it. Didn’t like how you put her on edge. She didn’t want to go delving into why exactly that was either. Why in the space of 6 months she had gone from despising your very existence, to having you in her home because you’d hurt yourself tending to her flowers. It was a lot to try and process all in one go.

“ Marias always laughing at me “ you said as she turned off the water “ says I’m one of the best snipers in town yet I’m clumsy as shit with anything else. Can shoot a clicker miles off but can’t handle a pair of gardening shears? Idiot “

Maria had told her all about your impressive skills out on patrols. She was yet to see them for herself though, Maria hadn’t paired you together yet. Thankfully. Though she couldn’t lie that curiosity on the matter was strong. She’d always had some morbid fascination with the nicest of people that were able to kill like it was second nature.

A silent chaos raging behind a gentle smile.

“ guns more important than sheers “

“ well that depends on the situation don’t you think? Gun won’t help clip the weeds “

She bandaged your hand silently with the care and tenderness that few saw from her, wrapping it up and admiring her work for a second.

She stood back when she was done not exactly knowing what to say anymore. And she hated it. Despised it. Tess always knew what to say. She was always one step ahead of everyone in the room, but she faltered when it came to you. And she didn’t know why. Or what power you seemed to hold over her as of late. Was it your kindness? Was it the simple fact that you had never shown her nothing but care and respect since day one and she just didn’t know how to accept it? Maybe.

She wandered if you noticed how she looked out of place in her own home. Surrounded by so many things that she had no connection to. Objects that weren’t hers, placed into a house that had once been lived in by others. Loved by others.

Like so many others she had gotten used to not getting attached to materialistic things. She could see you glancing around, how you could probably see that from the way the place looked so… bare. Unloved by her. Un- lived in by her. That you probably figured it out pretty quickly.

You were watching her intently as you wandered the kitchen and she didn’t like it, she didn’t like the way you made her feel like a prey animal ready to dart any moment. That wasn’t her. She wasn’t prey. She wasn’t the hunted. She was the hunter. She was the one with the upper hand.

But not with you. Not with you and your unyielding kindness and desire to know her.

So she turned around and started packing away the medical box slowly and carefully. Just to give her hands something to do.

“ why are you so afraid of me? “ you asked suddenly and she turned around with a confused look on her face. Afraid of you? Why would she possibly be afraid of someone like you.

“ what are you talking about? “

“ you’re afraid. You won’t let me in. You barely even let me be your friend. You keep trying to scare me away with being so… miserable. You have to let people in Tess… and I think it’s because you’re scared yourself I- “

“ I’m not afraid of you “ She said immediately. Her heckles raised at the intrusion. And at the confusion for your sudden lack of ability to not interfere “ are you afraid of me? “ she asked, her voice calm. And low and steady. Intimidating. The way she spoke to people in Boston who were pissing her off and she needed to remind them who she was. Her eyes had not left you for even a second. They were burning into you. Calculated. Smart. Intense.

Some desperate attempt and desire to keep you out. To make you back off. Even if it meant missing those morning knocks and tea on the porch. She couldn’t let you in. She wouldn’t.

But you weren’t afraid of her. You never had been. She could tell. You were stubborn. So unbearably kind but stubborn. Stubborn in the way you had kept up your daily visits even when she wouldn’t answer her door, in the way you still waved at her before she even spoke to you. So stubborn in the way you were standing your ground before her.

“ no. I know I should be. I know what you did. But I’m not “ she folded her arms across her chest, quirking a brow. Who had you been talking to? What could you possibly know. So you hadn’t been refraining from asking her questions all along, you’d been getting your information else where. She was almost impressed. It was smart. Calculated even.

At this point she wouldn’t be surprised if you’d cut yourself on purpose to get inside and make her talk.

“ oh? Oh you know what I did? “

“ someone in town… was gossiping I- everyone’s done bad things “ you said with a shrug.

“ what do you know? “ she advanced on you then. Slowly. Crossing the room to where you stood by the wall. You didn’t move. You held your ground.

“ a lot “

“ tell me “ she wanted to hear you say it. To confirm if what you knew was true. But also because maybe some sick part of her needed reminding what she had once been capable of. Of what she had been before she had become that misery of a human whose only joys came from her pseudo kid and the woman who planted flowers for her.

“ all the people you killed. Tortured “ your voice had dropped to almost a whisper as she stood in front of you. But you still didn’t look scared. And she couldn’t decide how that made her feel. Annoyed? Because she clearly didn’t hold the fear inducing powers she once had. Or… relieved? That she had finally come across someone that took what she had done and dusted it under the rug. Accepted it and moved on.

“ and it doesn’t scare you? “

“ you must’ve had your reasons “ there was a heavy tension hanging in the air, she could feel it thickly between you. Soon enough one of you would choke “ I know what you did. I don’t care. You can’t scare me away Tess “ at this point she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to.

No one had challenged her like that. No one like you anyway. No one so… sweet.

Her old self would’ve laughed. Would’ve laughed in your face and thrown you out. But then again. Her old self would’ve laughed at what she had become too.

Things had changed. And she needed to accept it.

“ stop trying to scare me off “ to her surprise you reached up, your hand gentle on her face. She recoiled at first. As if your fingers were steeped in acid and you’d blistered her skin with your touch. But you waited a moment and did it again. And she froze, unsure of what you were doing or how she was supposed to react to it “ I want to be your friend. Let me. You don’t have to scare every single person that wants to care for you away. If anything you damn well need it “

She didn’t know what to say. Stood there like she was made of stone with your gentle hand on her cheek, your face full of nothing but warmth and affection for her. She felt like a deer in headlights.

“ you don’t know what I need “ she finally spoke, taking a single step back so that your hand fell away. Though she was certain she could still feel it. A kind touch was so unfamiliar to her, so rare that it lingered in her skin “ you know nothing about me “

“ I know enough “ so stubborn. So unwilling to take no for an answer or let yourself be pushed away. She kind of liked it. Liked the challenge “ you have to let people in. Let me in. I know how you feel- “

“ how could you possibly know how I feel “ she almost spat “ you’ve lived here. Comfortable and safe “ you gave a small laugh at that

“ not always “ she didn’t know why she had assumed you had been there so long, maybe because you were so… settled. Adapted “ spent two years captured by a bunch of slavers before I even set foot in Jackson. I’m not some sheltered little girl born into comfort Tess “ she took a step back, eyes narrowing as she tried to asses the new information presented to her.

She knew about slavers. Had been taken by them herself at one point. But two years? She had been there two days, in a tiny camp as they prepared to move her to their main base before she’d managed to get away. Those two days had been hell. She couldn’t imagine two years.

Maybe she had underestimated you after all.

But before she could answer you properly there was another knock to her door.

“ only me! “ Maria’s voice sounded as she entered the house, opening her mouth to say something else but stopping when she saw you stood there. She looked violently overjoyed “ oh! I’m sorry. Didn’t know you had company “ it must have been an odd sight to walk into. Tess as stoney faced as ever and you practically gazing at her.

“ sorry I- “

“ did you need something? “ Tess asked

“ lunch, the whole family. Good haul from the hunting crew today “ family. Her family. As dysfunctional as it was she very much wanted to escape the current situation and see them “ but if you’re busy- “

“ no. I’m not. She was just leaving “ she glanced over at you as you gave a small nod and a smile, quietly excusing yourself and heading for the door.

“ just. Think about what I said Tess? I’ll see you tomorrow “

She didn’t hear the end of that for the entirety of lunch. Maria not usually one to pry. But knowing very much that Ellie and Tommy would. Casually mentioning it and… that was that.

Ellie seemed particularly delighted. Looking at her in a way that she recognised from her own childhood when she realised liking girls wasn’t just a her thing. That she wasn’t the only one. But Tess didn’t probe. Though she was happy in the knowledge Ellie would come to her if she needed.

“ y’know I think it’s real nice “ Joel said to her when she stepped outside stating she needed a little air “ she’s softenin you “ Tess scoffed and folded her arms across her chest

“ you have no idea what you’re talking about. She’s a neighbour. And she looks after the flowers. She’s a pain in my ass”

“ baby steps Tess “ she glanced over at him and he was giving her that look that said he knew something was going on inside her head “ you leave the house more now “

“ to my porch and back “ she mumbled not entirely wanting to get into that conversation. She was not in the mood to discuss her long hours trapped inside her house. And her head.

“ baby. Steps “ she sighed and ran a hand over her face. She was tired.

“ she wants to be my friend “ it sounded so unbelievably juvenile to say out loud. She almost regretted saying it

“ and… you don’t want that? “

“ no “ she said maybe a little too quickly

“ right “ she could feel him watching her, trying to read her as he so often did. The way only two people who had been together for so long could do “ I don’t think I believe that “

“ I’m not asking you to “ he sighed again, used to her stubbornness. Her bad moods.

“ you are allowed to have friends Tess. And… more than that. I don’t know what that girls intentions are, I don’t pretend to know how your mind works either. But if you really didn’t like her then why are you still lettin her around? Tess I know would’ve told her to fuck off and threatened her for good measure for even tryna talk to you if you didn’t like her “

“ you’re talking shit “ he laughed and shrugged

“ you’re proving my point. Tess. Just do something. If you want her? Go get her. Tess I know would. And if not? Tell her to leave you be. Cause this mood you’re in… it’s not nice to see “

“ ‘ the Tess you know’ “ she muttered under breath. She didn’t feel like that Tess anymore.

By the time she walked home she couldn’t tell if she was more annoyed by the entire situation or relieved by it because somehow Joel of all people had begun to put things into perspective for her.

Maybe it was both.

Though the annoyance was slightly winning out. She wasn’t soft. She didn’t like the implications that you were softening her. She was stronger than that. Stronger than you. She hadn’t pushed you away because Maria said she needed to be nice. That’s why.

It was.

Wasn’t it?

She felt a sudden desperate need to prove to herself that what she was thinking was correct. And not Joel.

She was not soft. She was in control.

She didn’t quite know what it was that compelled her feet to head up your porch steps rather than her own. Knocking on the door before she’d even fully come to a halt.

Waiting impatiently for you to answer, looking a little surprised to see her when you did appear.

She pushed past the threshold, watching you take a step back in mild confusion at her sudden intrusion, cupping your face in both her hands and kissing you. You stumbled for barely half a second, kissing her back with a muffled moan and your fingers wrapping around her wrists.

The confidence she was used to felt far more present in your space, in the four walls of your home rather than her own.

She pressed you up against the closest wall, kissing you like her life depended on it. Far more in control than she was a few hours earlier. Than she had been in a while.

And this was it. This was the familiarity she had craved wasn’t it? This was the power she had been missing, the ability to take what she wanted when she wanted it. Even when she wasn’t entirely sure it was what she wanted.

So why didn’t it feel the same. Why did it not even slightly fill the void in her chest.

You were breathing heavily as she pulled away to catch her own breath, a joyful almost dopey smile on your face. You looked so incredibly beautiful. Sweet.

She’d break you. She would. She knew she would. It was a vicious awful cycle. Anyone she got close to got hurt. Friend or… more. It would all end the same way.

“ this won’t end well “ she said quietly, not entirely meaning to say it out loud. The words escaping her as she watched you, someone so beautiful and kind didn’t belong with someone like her.

Someone who had not let the awful things that happened to them twist them into something unrecognisable. In the way that Tess had.

It would be a mess.

“ maybe not “ you answered, voice just as quiet “ but did you ever stop to think that maybe it will be okay? “

“ no “ you laughed softly, head leaning back against the wall and your eyes falling closed for a moment. She wished she could have such a carefree look. She didn’t think her face even knew how to relax into such an expression.

“ have a little faith “

AUTUMN

It had been over 20 years since her life had completely fallen apart. And a lot could happen in 20 years. A lot had happened. Tess was good at having bad shit happen and then burying it so deep down that she didn’t have to think about it. She was good at having a blank face when inside she was screaming. But in the end, one person could only hide so much stuff for so long. Eventually it would spill. And every now and again it did.

And when it did? It was suffocating.

It struck her out of no where. She never saw it coming.

Sometimes it almost scared her. Scared her that the stuff she had done wasn’t even the worst of what kept her up at night. She had no remorse for the people she had killed. Tortured. Those bodies and those sounds. They didn’t haunt her. The stuff that had come before that had damaged her beyond repair.

The first few years had been the worst. Before FEDRA had full control, before any rules were in full effect. When everyone ran rampant, when people looted and murdered because they felt like it. When groups formed and did whatever they wanted. To who they wanted. When Tess had been alone. Had left her home with nothing but the clothes on her back and ran. And ran. And by some miracle survived.

That time before Joel. Before the entirety of the group making their way up to Boston.

Tess didn’t get scared. She wasn’t afraid of things. But she had been back then. She had been so afraid.

So utterly powerless and out of control.

She tried to see the positives as ridiculous as it sounded. Tried to twist the shitty things that had happened. The shitty things that she had done. She had done them to survive. And maybe that scared her even more. That she felt justified in her actions.

That she could think back to certain people she had tortured. Killed. Ambushed. And justify it. Not feel as though she had done the wrong thing at all.

And that she would do it all again if she needed to.

She would throw herself in front of trucks feigning an injury. Just a poor, defenceless woman. Beg for help only for Joel and the others to spring from the bushes and take everything they had. She’d kill every man and woman that got in the way of her rise in the smuggling ring. She’d tortured ever last piece of information out of those fuckers who had taken Ellie. Murdered every. Last. Firefly. In that hospital.

All again. A million times over.

But her humanity was still in her somewhere. Buried deep down but there. And when it reared its head it was ugly. Filled with words to make her feel like the worst person alive. Fill her ears with the strangled cries of her son. The sickening sound of the blood that pooled in her husband’s throat.

It made her feel numb. Like she was floating. No longer in her body and desperately trying to claw her way back down to it.

“ Tess? “ she was too lost to react. Too deep inside her own head to even turn around and look at you. But she knew that voice. The voice that had become as familiar as Maria’s. Ellie’s. Joels “ Tess what are you doing it’s freezing out here “ your voice was soft compared to the voices that were screeching inside her head, soothing. Gentle. Quieter yet somehow speaking over the screaming ones.

Your hands fell onto her arm and she flinched, shifting away from your touch.

“ hey. Sorry “ you said softly, hands raised in some kind of surrender “ won’t touch you again “ the voices were still shouting at her, but a little further off now. Like she was on one side of the room and they were on the other. And wasn’t that interesting. Where in the past only Joel had been able to coax her back to reality. Ground her. Now you had. And she had known you far less “ can I sit? “ she gave a small nod and you sat down, leaving a small gap between you both.

Things between the two of you had been a little different as of late.

You hadn’t kissed since that day she’d barged through your front door and re established that she was very much the one holding the reins. But she was letting herself be lighter. Trying her hardest to open up to you. To go into town more. Smile back at people. And it was hard. And slow going. But she was getting there.

Baby steps. Like Joel had said.

“ I’m gonna go get a blanket okay? It’s so cold “ she listened as you went inside, returning a few moments later.

“ why are you here? “ she asked as you sat down beside her again, wrapping the blanket around you both.

“ I was out on late patrol. I saw the light on… was gonna come see why you were still up. Have a chat or something… you didn’t answer so I just poked my head inside and I saw the back door was open“

She gave a small nod and continued staring out at the backyard. She hadn’t really done much to it. But there was a rope swinging attached to the large tree at the bottom now. Ellie loved it.

“ do you need to talk? About anything? “ you asked quietly “ it’s what friends are for you know. Talking “

“ I’ve never been very good at friends “ you gave a small laugh and nodded

“ yeah. I figured that one out myself “ you shuffled a little closer to her, nudging her leg with yours “ you must’ve had friends at some point “

The ones that truly stuck in her mind were Bill and Frank. Frank would’ve loved you she realised very quickly. You were so alike. So happy. Made to see the positive in absolutely every single thing. Yet becoming friends with Frank had been far easier than becoming friends with you.

She’d been different back then.

“ I had. I had friends “ she started, realising in that moment that she had never actually spoken about Bill and Frank since they’d died. Her and Joel had done as they always had and refused to talk about it. Let it settle and weigh heavy until it began to dissipate on its own “ they lived a few miles out of Boston. Met them over the radio “

“ they weren’t in a zone? “

“ no. Bill… fuckin crazy been planning for doomsday his whole life. Had the whole town mapped out and wired up “ she actually cracked a small smile thinking about it “ Frank though. I think. I think he’s the closest thing to a friend I really had “

She missed him. She missed them both. And missing Bill was something she never thought she’d feel, even if he was more open to her company than Joel’s.

You listened diligently as she spoke about Lincoln. Dinners in the garden and Bills stash of supplies, the awkwardness that always lingered between Bill and Joel. The bi monthly drop offs that had started increasing in distance as Frank got sicker and Bill got older. And then finding them with Ellie. The silent moment she had taken in the garden to cry for her lost friends whilst Ellie showered and Joel fixed the car.

“ they sound like amazing people “ she shrugged and glanced over at you for a moment. And maybe it was silly of her to take so long to realise it. But maybe she had a friend in you, maybe more than that. Maybe she had done all along and had been too blinded by her own self loathing and moping around to truly notice it.

It was the early hours of the morning and there you were, sat on her porch steps in the dark. Listening to her talk. Comforting her. And she realised that you were exactly what she needed. In that moment and every other moment to follow. Your compassion and your calming force of a personality. The way you cared…. Loved even. Your stubbornness. Your loyalty.

“ thank you “ she said quietly “ for being here “ you looked up at her and smiled. That warm, sweet smile that made even the coldest of days feel mild. Tess was all sharp edges and bitter words, someone so soft should be keeping a safe distance to ensure they didn’t get cut. But you weren’t afraid. You never had been “ for everything “ she didn’t want to elaborate and you didnt make her.

She reached forward to cup your face in her hand, thumb tracing over your cheekbone. You understood her in a way it had taken Joel 20 years to. Some odd force of nature that wiggled your way through the cracks in her heavily guarded walls.

Her eyes drifted down to your lips. Remembering the hard, forceful kiss you had shared that one time before. The kind she was used to. The kind she was good at. She wasn’t very good at being tender and caring. Kissing and all that lead from it had long since been something she did out of care and love. It was a means to an end. A release. A way to remind herself she was human.

But it didn’t have to be that way anymore.

“ you gonna kiss me or not? “ you whispered. And it made her lips twitch into a smile.

Tess had kissed a lot of people in her time. And if she was perfectly honest she wasn’t entirely a fan. Kisses were not like how the movies or books portrayed them most of the time. Uncoordinated or clumsy, too much teeth or tongue. She didn’t care much for kissing.

But kissing you was different. Kissing you was like a shot of adrenaline straight into her veins. It was the closest she felt she could come to understanding why Joel had been so hooked on pills before Ellie. It was addictive.

But something had changed now. Some locked gate inside of her had finally clicked open and you had seized the opportunity to slip your way inside. And she surprised herself with the realisation that it actually didn’t seem all that terrifying now, having you there. Having those feelings and thoughts.

Of course there was still… something. But it was less so.

Holding your face in her hand, your willingness to let her lead and melt into her. With every soft and gentle movement of her lips against yours she felt herself slipping. Like when the winter storms would hit Boston and her worn down boots couldn’t find grip on the icy paths.

But this slip wouldn’t end with her falling flat on her ass and nursing a bruised leg. You were keeping her tethered. Your fingers that were looped around her wrist, your hair that was tickling her face.

It made her feel startlingly real. Alive. Present. Present in a moment in a way she hadn’t done all day, she’d spent the day drifting. Some far off place in her head where her demons scrambled over her and suffocated the air out of her lungs. But she was breathing fine now, breathing in air that was yours, breathing as if you were her air.

She kissed you until her jaw started to ache, not sure how long it had been or how many quick seconds apart to catch her breath there had been. But when she finally did let you go the fog that had been blinding her all day seemed to have disappeared. Everything felt as though she were looking through glasses that had just had the lenses cleaned.

Sharper. Clearer.

“ it’s really fuckin cold “ she murmured, causing a giggle to bubble past your lips.

“ yeah. It’s freezing “ you didn’t seem even mildly pissed that that had been her first words after practically kissing your face off. Instead you both silently seemed to agree to go inside, collapsing onto her couch and kissing some more.

Something had shifted after that. Had changed after she’d woken up the following morning on the couch with you.

She actively chose to be around you, even more so than she had been. Spent enough time with you that people began to murmur about it. But she found she no longer cared.

There was still an odd weight looming in her chest, one she was certain may never actually go away. But it was far lighter than it had been.

WINTER

Tess had always preferred winter to summer. Especially after Boston. She hated those sticky summer days. Especially in that apartment that was freezing in winter but a sauna in the summer, no comfortable in between. Days when she felt like the heat was suffocating her and every drop of water she drank sweated its way out of her within the minute.

Winter felt so much… fresher. She liked the snow and the opportunities to wrap up and be warm on her own terms.

Some people found it bleak. But she rather enjoyed it.

You seemed to like it too. Because you could use the cold weather as an excuse to be close to her. And it felt nice. To have you there, to have you wanting to be near her. Even if she was beginning to believe you were forgetting your gloves on purpose now so she would hold your hand.

The arrival of the winter months had brought along the silent confirmation that you two were… something now. Dating didn’t feel right. That word didn’t feel like it belonged in the world anymore. And there had been no real discussions of the matter, mostly due to her own refusal to mention it. And ‘girlfriend’… it felt a little juvenile. Even if was Ellie teasing her every fucking day that you were in fact her girlfriend now.

Jackson was starting to feel more like somewhere she could begin to call home. Riding back through the gates with Joel, watching them close behind her but not feeling that feeling of imprisonment anymore. Not feeling as trapped as the walls in Boston, but finally feeling safe.

She walked into the Bison, happy to find it slightly less crowded than it could be. She walked over to the bar, smiling at the guy stood drying off a glass

“ hey… she here? “ something in her still prickled with an odd sense of anxiety that she didn’t need to ask for you by name now. That they all knew who she meant. That Tess would not venture into the bison alone for anyone else, and that you would never be leaving with anyone else but her.

But she pushed it aside.

“ yeah she’s out the back. I’ll grab her “ she waited patiently as he disappeared through the door, glancing around with some still deep rooted fear that someone was watching her. She didn’t think she’d ever shake that. But she had to remind herself that no one there was after her. No one there was watching her to find her weakness and abuse it.

“ hey you “ you appeared through the door a few moments later and you greeted with that beaming smile of yours, looking at her as if she were the singular source of joy in your life. You leant over the bar and she met you half way, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. It was the kind of kiss that was… familiar. The kind two people in love shared without thought, something as simple and regular as breathing.

“ having fun? “

“ oh yeah. Making sandwiches, riveting stuff “ she watched you wipe your hands off on a towel before slipping your way out from behind the bar “ but I’d really like to go home now “ Tess nodded and offered you her arm without needing to be asked, your hands slipping into their usual place and huddling close against her.

It was getting chillier out, the sky had taken on that odd yellowy state that signalled impending snow. The kind of day that back in Boston would’ve been some forewarning of an impending low ration season. But there was no such thing in Jackson.

You spoke about your shift in the bison as you walked and Tess listened diligently, all the while silently musing over you asking to go home. And very much heading with Tess towards hers.

But. You stayed over more often than not now. Your things were starting to intermingle with her own, the space that had previously felt so barren and so disconnected from herself… now felt almost like a home.

There were some of Ellie’s drawings tacked to the fridge, her talent alone making the space seem a little more lived in. A few pictures had been framed now too and dotted about the place. Tess, Joel and Ellie over for dinner at Tommy and Maria’s. Another of Ellie pulling a stupid face with Joel looking slightly amused at her side. One of you and her, you beaming at the camera as she looked at you. Maria had taken that one much to Tess’ original dismay. But she was quite thankful for it now.

That was the first piece of you that had made its way into her home.

You had a toothbrush in her bathroom now. A spare jacket on the hooks by the door. A small box of gardening tools by the front door. A hand knitted blanket across the back of her couch.

You were in the air even. The air wafted of the flowers you adored wherever you went, you filled the place she had only ever referred to as a house into home.

And sometimes it almost made her want to laugh. Laugh at herself for what she had become. Tess didn’t take things slow like this. Tess didn’t let her space be invaded by someone else. Tess didn’t have feelings or let herself… love.

Which was exactly what she was feeling more and more these days. Which was completely and utterly terrifying but she found she was just letting it happen. Because she could. And because she was allowed to.

She wasn’t old Tess anymore. If anything she was beginning to feel as though she was slowly becoming more and more like the version of herself that had existed before an apocalypse had destroyed the world. The kind of woman that did date and did take things slow. That had girlfriends or boyfriends and wasn’t scared. Was care free and happy.

And maybe that was more scary than the fear she had felt at losing the version of herself that had developed over 20 years of hell.

She was beginning to think that nothing would ever be without fear these days. But she was working on it. And it was lessening.

And you becoming a permanent fixture in her house was part of that.

Quite often the nights ended exactly as they currently were too. With you walking home together, cuddling up together on the couch to escape the chill of winter.

And making out until she forgot how to breathe.

It had not been more than that. She hadn’t allowed herself to let it be. Had happily let you sit in her lap or let you pull her down over you and sink into the couch cushions. But she never let it progress.

She didn’t truly think about why and you had never asked it of her either. Until tonight.

“ why are you holding back? “ you whispered, pulling back from her slightly. Still close enough that she could feel your breath against her lips.

Why was she holding back?

Because you weren’t some random girl she picked up in the zone because she was bored and lonely. Because until you, sex had become something with little feeling. Something to do because she needed some human contact that wasn’t Joel stitching up a stab wound.

And it was funny, really, when she thought about why she was holding back. Why as much as she may have wanted to, as much as the old her would’ve gone and gotten what she wanted months ago… she hadn’t.

Because it hadn’t felt right. Hadn’t been the time. You deserved more than that. You deserved more than a quick, meaningless fuck off somewhere secluded because she wanted to feel like a human being again. No, you deserved more.

Maybe you still did. She couldn’t figure it out yet.

But what she did know, was if now was not the time then she would wait. She would wait a million and one lifetimes. As much as she knew the short serotonin boost would breathe some life into her for a few hours again… she would endure. Because when she really thought about it, that wasn’t what she wanted really.

She wanted you. Of course she did. Needed you. In every single sense of the phrase. You had been a shiny little light in her darkness, you had prevailed and endured her bitterness to discover something sweet hiding beneath.

And so you deserved the best. Deserved every ounce of love and compassion Tess could find deep within herself.

“ where’d you go? Hm? “ you whispered softly, fingers trailing along the side of her face and tucking an unruly strand of her greying hair behind her ear “ you seem… else where “

“ just thinkin “ your touch was gentle, fingertips somehow still smooth and soft. So different to hers, calloused from years of fighting and doing shitty jobs in the QZ. She felt too rough for you. Too sharp around the edges. Like her hold on you alone could shatter you.

She knew in reality you weren’t delicate. She had watched you shoot like a trained marksmen. Had seen you jump on clickers and stab them until you face was splattered in blood. Chop firewood for town like it was nothing. You were strong. Capable. And yet she felt like she could bruise you like a peach just by looking at you wrong. She was no stranger to your strengths, your capabilities. Yet to her? She felt she could always see you as breakable.

Fine China. Soft fruit. The petals of the flowers you cared so much about.

Soft and pure and delicate. Not made to be touched by the rough and ready hands of the likes of her

And yet…

“ thinking about me? “ you said it with a small laugh, half joking. Half hoping. She gave you a small smile, a small nod.

“ of course “ it came out so quiet she wasn’t even sure she’d really said it right away. But your warm smile told her she had. And you’d heard. And even now, even in that moment, she still took a moment to be amazed at that smile. Amazed that it was because of her. You were smiling because she was thinking of you. You were on her mind. And you liked that.

Her hands twitched slightly at their place on your waist. Almost involuntarily. Like they were trying to make her move, go ahead. Do… something.

You looked down for a second before letting go of your gentle hold of her face, sliding your hands along her arms and trailing your fingers over her wrists.

“ I’m not going to break “ you picked up her hands, moving them down to brush over your ass, your thighs “ you can touch me “ she was afraid she’d do something stupid like blush. So she kissed you again, gently tugging you close by her soft hold on your thighs.

Your hands slid back up her arms, over her shoulders, up to hold the back of her neck, your fingertips slipping under the collar of her shirt. Everything about you was soft. Precise and purposeful. She could practically feel the desire radiating out of your fingers. But also the care.

She hadnt been touched like that in… a while. Touched in a way that conveyed love. A way that was gentle. Caring. Deliberate and slow. Like you wanted to take your time, in a way akin to how you had behaved since you had met her. You wanted to know her. To understand her. To peel back the layers she kept pulling on to keep you out.

And maybe a part of her would always want to keep you out, deep down. Fear of the unknown. Fear of a vulnerability she was still learning to adjust to.

But she was adjusting. Had been. And it felt right now. Felt right having the soft weight of you on her thighs, having your gentle fingers rid her of her sweater. Felt the shame of her equally as raging desire dissipate.

It was okay. She was okay.

She watched your deft fingers carefully unbutton your plaid shirt, one that now she thought about it looked remarkably like one of hers. When had you taken that she wondered.

She let her hands slip over the bare skin of your waist, disappearing under the soft worn cotton of your- her? - shirt. There was a scar along your ribs, the kind that had been there a while. No longer angry and red but faded and soft. She ran her thumb across it.

“ chains “ you said, answering her unasked question.

“ the slavers? “ she murmured, still tracing her thumb over the long stretch of scarred skin. You hummed a reply, your eyes watching her intently

“ plenty of permanent reminders of those fuckers on me “ it still baffled her how you had endured such cruelty and appeared on the other side as gentle as you were. She wanted to track those fuckers down. Torture every single last one that had even looked at you wrong. And reserve a special place in hell for the ones who had left their permanent marks.

She leant forward, dipping her head and pressing her lips to the scar. Your chest deflated in a soft sigh as she did, ghosting her lips over the skin in some feeble attempt to replace the pain with care. Your fingers laced into her hair, silently urging her to kiss you some more. And she did. She kissed up your chest, breath stuttering embarrassingly as her cheek brushed against the cotton covered swell of your chest as she pressed kisses to your sternum.

Everything about you was soft.

She inhaled deeply, your skin smelt of that familiar scent of being outdoors. As if winter air had been bottled and sprayed across your skin like perfume. Something so usually mundane and common place, yet intoxicating on you.

She kissed up your neck, skin in flames with every single soft sigh it caused you to let out.

“ can… can I.. “ you said in between kisses, hands now fumbling with the button of her jeans.

“ not here “ she murmured, pulling away from your lips slightly reluctantly “ you deserve better than the fuckin couch “ that made you smile, head titling to the side inquisitively.

“ well aren’t you just a lady “ Tess scoffed, patting your leg gently to urge you to stand up

“ lady? You must be thinkin of someone else “ you seemed reluctant to stop kissing her, grabbing her multiple times on the way out of the lounge. Including a long pause on the stairs where she almost regretted suggesting you move. And seriously debated just letting the entire thing play out right there on the staircase.

She’d never really been one for kissing. But with you she couldn’t stop. She was obsessed. A woman possessed. And she was taking her time.

But she remained on track. Leading you into her bedroom and the bed she had barely slept in.

She sat down on the edge, watching you as you closed the door before turning to her. Leaning back against it for a moment.

You were truly something. Stood there in your jeans and your bra. Your mismatched socks and your ruffled hair. Lips kiss swollen and eyes watching her intently.

“ c’mere “ she said quietly, gesturing you over with a tilt of her head. You wandered over, coming to a stop in front of her and reaching out to cup her face gently “ you’re so fuckin beautiful you know “ she said, not entirely intending to say it out loud and rather just think it. But the blush that crept across your cheeks made her glad she had said it.

“ you think? “ she hummed a reply, her fingers trailing up and down the backs of your thighs.

She didn’t know what it was about having you there in that room. Her room. Alone. It felt so incredibly intimate. In fact the entire night had. She’d never taken such… time. Time to explore and to appreciate, to admire. And now to have you in bedroom, a room she had barely been able to step foot in alone since arriving in town. But felt almost at ease with you there.

It was a lot to attempt to process all at once. And so she decided not to. That it wasn’t the time to send herself spiralling into yet another pit of despair and dread, she focussed all her attention back to you.

“ you’re sweet “

“ I’m not sweet I’m honest “ you smiled again at that. In reality she was not an honest person. She was deceitful and not to be trusted by anyone but Joel. But you trusted her. And she was honest with you.

She was. You truly were beautiful. And she felt a fool that it had taken her as long as it had to stop and really look at you. Had spent so long despising your presence rather than admiring you from day one.

She slipped her hands further up your legs, cupping the denim clad flesh of your ass and pushing you forward slightly. You took the hint, stepping over her legs and placing yourself back in her lap. Your arms looped loosely around her neck.

She couldn’t resist diving forward, lips against your neck and teeth grazing your soft skin in a way that made the most delicious sounds leave your lips.

“ oh, Tess “ your fingers tugged lightly at her hair as she continued her gentle assault, hands wandering and desperate to touch as much of you as she could. “ I can’t take much more of this teasing “ you whispered after a few moments, tugging at her hair to make her raise her head.

Her fingers ghosted over the blooming marks on your skin. Blossoming spots of red and purple, marks of a gentle cruelty that had sent the most beautiful look of bliss to overcome your face. Yet another mark of possession on your skin, but not of chains and binds this time…. Of hatred. But of teeth. Of lips. Of desire.

Possession through the deep rooted need to keep you as her own, but simply to hold. To protect. To love.

“ Tess “ she wouldn’t make you wait any longer. She wanted to keep touching, to commit every single inch of you to memory. But she figured that she’d have plenty of opportunities to do so.

And she would give you anything you asked of her. So she would not make you wait.

Through a desire blurred haze she manoeuvred you to lay down, a blur of clothing making its way to the floor and soft moans as her hands ventured downwards.

“ no no keep looking at me “ she said, her voice as quiet as it had been since you’d lead her up those stairs, coaxing your head up from where you were hiding with her free hand “ that’s it I wanna see you “ you slipped a hand to the nape of her neck, pulling her down to press your forehead against hers with a small nod, lips parted slightly as she moved her fingers in soft circles.

She lost track of time. Of all straight forward thinking. The seconds and the minutes all blurring into a moonlit haze of body parts in her mind. She took her time, breaking you down and unwinding every single knot under your skin.

Nothing else existed outside the four walls of that room, just you and her. The soft lewd sounds of her fingers between your legs, your quiet whimpers and gasps into her mouth, the rustle of the sheets beneath you as you arched and writhed beneath her.

There was something incredible about having you there, foreheads pressed together as she hovered over you, something so… romantic. How your hands held onto her, fingertips warm like they were branding her skin. Isolated in that room in a newer way than she had been used to.

And when she finally brought you to your long awaited climax, she watched you intently. Admiring the beautiful way your face moved and contorted in pleasure, watching your lips part and your legs tremble.

You returned the favour once you’d regained your regular breathing pattern. Pushing her onto her back and leading a trail of soft kisses down her chest and her stomach, settling between her legs and sending her eyes falling into the back of her head.

Her back arching off the mattress and her hand twisting into your hair, relishing in a bliss she hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time.

And then you lay there together. A comfortable silence enveloping the room, only disturbed by the occasional kiss or soft sigh.

Tess’ fingers played gently with your hair, inevitably lulling you into sleep. And she took the time to think.

She realised that in the time she had lived there it was her first night actually sleeping in her bed. She glanced down at where you were sound asleep on her chest, the weight and warmth of you pressed against her keeping away any anxious thoughts that wanted to creep into her mind.

And she didn’t want to escape downstairs, didn’t want to run. To push you away and tell you to leave. That sleeping together was far more intimate to her than any form of sex act could be.

The thoughts didn’t come.

It had taken her meeting you to finally come to terms with what her life was now. And the things that she had done. That in the current climate there were really no good or bad people. Just human beings trying to survive. Do whatever it took to live to see another day. Doing unspeakable things to get by and trying to convince themselves afterwards that they had done the right thing. That they had had no choice.

And that was okay. She was coming to peace with that. She would never fully forget, but neither would anyone else. But that was okay. Because as long as she had you by her side, she was quite content in the knowledge that she could handle it.

That then come spring those flowers you had planted would bloom again and she would let her fears die with the frost.

Everything would be okay.

[jess-the-vampire]

I genuinely don't understand the gripes a few people have with how Belos was handled in the finale. "Dont just brush him off as being evil" Well, why the fuck not? Dude wasnt born evil but he purposefully chose destruction and death at every possible opportunity for 400+ years. Nothing about his backstory would have made any impact on the characters affected, because its not an excuse, its not even an explanation! Caleb had the same childhood and he loved the Boiling isles. Eat boots Belos.

Ok, buckle up cause this is gonna be a long one, we gotta have a chat about Belos as a character, because there's been so many takes about this i keep seeing about " he never accepted the isles the way luz did" and "He had 400 years to change and he never took the took the offer", because it just seems like the fandom wants to kinda ignore a lot of the nuance about his situation and why it's not that simple?

and i'm for sure certain it's because the fandom is obviously already pretty biased against him since he's the villain, and what he does to the main characters as well as represents.

And that's fine, obviously he becomes a pretty bad person, no one is obligated to like him and it's ok to feel uncomfortable given the character he is.

But i think a lot of these issues as to why people have such mixed opinions about the finale has a lot to do directly with the fact the show DID keep his backstory as vague as they did, when if they had gone into it i think we would've had less of this discourse.

Now none of this is me excusing him obviously, but the fandom is very adamant to just not allow him to have depth either, when....he's allowed to be irredeemable and have depth at the same time. He's meant to be a very human villain, a character that could happen to anyone under the right circumstances

So not exploring that depth, why it got how it did, and how things like it can be prevented is a flaw within the show and among a lot of fans.

And to be fair, the show does not HAVE to do it, but the show also clearly wrote his character to have a lot of implied depth whether people like it or not, him coming from a very real religious group alone and making him a foil to luz has turned what could of been a very one note villain into one with a lot of layers to his villainy.

And if the show wants to make belos a very one note villian, no depth, they could of very easily done this by just cutting out details like his love and care for his brother, or just make make him want to destroy witches simply because he decided on his own they were worth destroying.

But that's not exactly what they've presented belos as being.

The show thrives in having characters who aren't just simple nor cookie cutter.

Hunter isn't just some cocky sidekick, he's an abused teenager who craves love and affection, and is willing to go high and low to earn it, terrified to be thrown away and replaced and constantly is forced into a mold just to get the affection he craves. He's highly sheltered and isolated just because his father figure doesn't want him to be his own person since that wasn't what he was created for

King isn't just a tiny little brat who craves power, he's a child whose been lied to about his past, and he wanted nothing more then to be taken seriously and feel a sense of belonging. He believes that he wants power, but finds out he really only wanted to be treated like anyone else, and that he's far happier with a family that loves and cares about him rather then being a powerful demon king.

Lilith isn't just a self important antagonist who wants to force eda to do what she wants, she grew up close to her sister and wanting to be by her side well into the future, but felt a sense of inadequacy in comparison to eda. The pressures of the coven system and need to win against her sister made her make a drastic choice she regrets and she wants nothing more then to fix it and make everything the ideal fantasy they grew up wanting to have together. She's also a large nerd, craves the attention of higher figures since her own mother used to put all the attention on eda, and changed her appearance just so people would take her seriously.

And the show does this with most of it's cast, obvi there's the exception like tibbles and even bosha who don't have too much to them, but they're also very minor antagonists and there's still stuff you can pick up on.

Belos however is the main antagonist, everything that happens in the show, happens because of him, his entire backstory is basically why the plot of the show happens.

Not just that, but also caleb and evelyn, if it weren't for the drama between these three, there would be no show.

And people are WELL aware these three aren't the main leads, they aren't going to be the main focus of most episodes and obviously the show was going to end in the favor of the main characters.

But

the story the show tells between these three ties very strongly into the ones with the leads too. We are given at least enough details to notice parallels between stuff that happens with characters like luz, and characters like philip.

We know philip and luz grew up in gravesfield, we know there were outcasts there, and they had one family member they relied on to support them there. They ended up in the demon realm, they both learned magic, and they both are strongly motivated by their beliefs regarding the isles.

So there's a lot they share in common, which makes it really easy to take a look at philip and say "Well it's his fault for not being like luz and accepting the isles like she did".

But, there's a lot of differences here

Luz grew up with fantasy, with magic stories about witches and heroes and demons. Philip grew up in a 1600s puritan village which demonized this stuff, he was a young child growing up being told this stuff was evil and he was taught to fight against it.

Luz felt odd for her interests and out there personality but at worst she felt isolated and misunderstood, she didn't like her mom's efforts to change her to be "Normal". Philip actually conformed to gravesfield, caleb clearly encouraging his brother to do so, just so both of them could fit in with the town. Had they not conformed at best they'd be isolated, but at worst they'd be dead.

Camilia is an adult who eventually opens up and talks to luz about how it was wrong to try and change her to be "Normal", that she herself hid her own interests to do so.

Caleb, was a child, he did not have any open conversations with his younger brother. Caleb hid evelyn and his interests with witches from philip and then on top of this, left philip behind.

You could absolutely say the fact caleb didn't talk to philip is pure speculation, and not confirmed at all. That all of this could be summed up to unreliable narrators.

But we know caleb left for the isles before philip did, we know it took time for philip to find him again (because his beard grew out), we know caleb had a wife who seems to be pregnant, that he was introducing philip to (Implying he not only hasn't seen philip in awhile, but that eve and philip have never met to caleb) and all of that alone feeds into the fact caleb left him behind to start another life. This is all shown in his memories alone, stuff we can't chalk up to unreliable narrators.

So the most logical conclusion to come to is caleb left philip to start a new family, we don't have a lot of details as to if caleb ever planned to return, if caleb had good reasons to do what he did, or much about his mindset.

But we have enough to know Philip loved and looked up to caleb, that he relied on caleb, and caleb lied and left him.

There is again, reason to tie this back to camila and luz.

but this is not a child leaving a parent behind, this is a parental figure leaving a child behind.

This is what i mean by the issue being lack of clear answers, people claim caleb left when philip was an adult, but we actually have no confirmed evidence for this. We have enough of philip's memories to know 2 things, that he was still a teenager when caleb was meeting evelyn, and he was an adult when he arrived.

You could argue philip was an adult by the time caleb left, but it's so vauge you can also argue caleb left when philip was a child and philip didn't figure out his way to the demon realm till adulthood and there's not enough proof to go one way or another.

now titan dad says philip had no genuine reasons for his actions, that he did this all for glory, but as steve put it back in OTWAT, the titan is just a guy.

And given the collector situation, he can make mistakes and screw up just like anyone else.

Titan dad only sees what he can see and make observations based on what he sees. He saw a human come to the isles with a bias already against witches, who ended up killing his brother, who claimed to come here to save others and that's all he's going to see philip as being. Someone who wants to save others but just hurts them instead.

He has no reason to know what philip grew up under, nor does he have reason to know philip and caleb's story before they arrived. There's no denying philip did love caleb, and that they were close, but that caleb leaving him behind for witches drove them apart.

I think the problem ppl even have with what titan dad says is purely because the fans take it at face value, because let's be honest, most fans will believe the objective heroes for what they assume over the villians. And since the show again, leaves philip's story vauge, and never puts it in the main focus, people will just assume what titan dad says must be the truth.

Like yes, you can pick up on these details if you are paying attention, but most people won't do that, so a lot of fans will listen to the god telling them what philip's motivations are coming from rather then put together the sense of betrayal from caleb that hurt philip that most of the evidence is actually pointing to.

philip had no parents, and had no one but caleb as far as we can tell, and then caleb left him too, like he didn't want him anymore.

And he left him in a bigoted town, alone.

the damage this could of done if he was a child is pretty darn bad, and for philip to assume this happened because of a witch means reinforcing everything he's been taught about witches.

Caleb lied about his changes, so when caleb sees him again, caleb seems to be a different person, which does fit with what philip says to luz about the isles "Brainwashing people".

tho you can argue that that's not the truth, that philip knows caleb did it on purpose and killed him for betraying him, cause of how he blames him in episodes like FTF.

But again, this is the result of leaving things vague, because either situation is plausible.

it's plausible philip never intended to kill caleb at all and he died as the result of trying to protect eve because the show says he was trying to target evelyn to save caleb, and it's plausible he died on purpose out of philip's rage for caleb leaving him. Because guess what? That means caleb had the means to go see him and could've seen him but made the choice NOT to, so yeah, that's pretty heartbreaking.

again, this also comes into play regarding Philips's guilt.

People objectively keep saying philip HAS no guilt regarding caleb, but we have evidence for both guilt and non guilt.

Now, sure, his portrait of dead caleb implies philip is not guilty for his death based on his expression after the fact. We also have the fact philip shows distain towards the grimwalkers, that he never outright expresses he feels bad to anyone.

But, we also have caleb's death being treated as one of philip's worst memories in KT that he objectively recalls in horror, he says he "Tried" to save caleb in FTF, which implies he wanted to save him and that he's mad he didn't manage to do so. The grimwalkers and caleb could be seen as ghosts, but also as hallucinations, and if you are seeing them as the latter then it makes sense he'd be seeing them out of some level of guilt towards having them killed.

If the show had these details explained more fully, it would be easy to either deem belos as being a murderous dick with no remorse who thinks killing was the right thing, or as a guilt ridded stubborn murderer who wants to not acknowledge he was wrong and screwed up.

it's why people are split, because you could objectively choose to see him both ways and the ending will affect you differently depending on what you picked up on.

But now let's talk about philip not changing, because people have bashed him for not doing so in the 400 years he's been there and that he had opportunities to do so but didn't.

And i think this is half right, half wrong.

Philip came to the isles with biases, he basically grew up in a cult, he came in thinking he was traveling into hell to go find caleb. Caleb encouraged his hatred, and then his hatred got further pushed when caleb seemed to be kidnapped, and then further pushed when he was surrounded by nothing but bigots.

So this man was already on a bad foot compared to luz, who was here to live out the fantasy books she grew up on, and objectively would have no reason to hate or fear witches nearly as much.

And we do know while the BI can be compassionate, it also has it's issues, even luz faced discrimination for being human herself while on the isles. Being powerless there is well, not great, it's why luz had to figure out her own way to do things alongside everyone else.

And the Bi ARE dangerous, especially for humans, so it's at least understandable philip is not going to just show up and look past the flesh eating plants, the evil weather, and the lack of anything he can even objectively eat.

Now philip could of considered things outside of his bias, and made the effort to try and look at things from a new perspective. But we also have to acknowledge that it's not easy to come out of this long time brainwashing either, and that it takes time and help to do so.

And philip, didn't seem to have that.

Yes, caleb grew up the same way, but not only was he older, which already set him up to question things more. But he had evelyn, he had someone to challenge him and his views and change his mind.

Philp, doesn't have that, there is no confirmation anyone ever really chose to challenge his views or make him realize he was following a lie.

Caleb could of but caleb left.

All we see is philip, isolated, following the beliefs he was taught and being hostile to witches, and witches rightfully being hostile back, which just further is feeding into his bias.

You can assume philip had chances to change but didn't, but there's no real strong evidence of that being offered to him either. That any witch ever tried to make him question anything.

It's pure speculation.

Now Philip is a stubborn ass dude for sure, so yeah, we can claim he just simply didn't want to consider it.

But people are claiming Philip was shown help that he didn't take and that's just not true. We never see anyone asking him to do the right thing or making him question things, at least not compassionately.

no one to our knowledge ever did challenge him, or did reach out to him, not even in the show itself.

Luz is rightfully hostile towards him even when trying to challenge him, hunter does attempt to try and come up with helpful ideas but he would silence himself if his uncle didn't like it (Not to mention the existing fact that he is supposed to be a caleb replacement so his existence comes from philip not wanting him to change or question things philip thinks caleb should not), and well....collector giving him a hug isn't gonna do anything at that point to stop him from thinking the worst of the isles.

This is partially because belos has the power in scenes, that if he hears what he doesn't want to hear he can quickly silence the individual and ignore it.

He's basically put in situations where no one is challenging him and if they are, they're usually doing it with distain and he's responding like a dick right back.

So maybe not much could of been done when belos has become emperor, outside of some rare occurrences where he has no choice but to listen or if he was challenged by someone he respected and would be less willing to hurt. Maybe he's too far gone to back out now and has too much power to even allow himself to consider what anyone had to say, even if they did do it kindly and wouldn't face his wrath.

but he was only emperor for 50 years too.

So ok, what about before that?

Well, yeah, maybe there were chances he could of been, but that's a period of time we only see so much of, and none of it shows one way or the other that Philip was offered the chance to improve.

I think had we gotten a scene of philip being offered a chance to do good, to consider things, that he knew he was wrong and still rejected it, it would back up this whole "Philip made the choice to not get better" thing people claim.

but truth is, it's speculation, we don't know.

A guy who spent his life buying into where he grew up and came in with biases that became a cycle of him being terrible and witches reinforcing what he thought isn't just suddenly going to change his mind and be nice now on a whim unless those biases are challenged in a way he can't deny.

it's on him for not considering looking on things outside of his bias for sure, but people seem to think doing that is simple and easy and it's really not.

Philip had no evelyn, he was left with no one but his bias and stubborn mind.

It's like king said back in hollow mind " People don't want to believe they've been following the wrong person their whole lives", and philip didn't have a luz like hunter did to help him realize how wrong he really was.

Instead it got worse and worse.

This is why philip feels real, because this can happen to people, that they can grow up with hate and never receive the help they needed to pull them out of the mindset. So they get worse, they become worse people.

and we can argue philip didn't deserve the chance to get better, but you'll never know if you don't try and we don't know if anyone did try before he was too far gone.

to think all of this could of been avoided if caleb actually spoke to his brother and gave him the chance to change...

Tying this all back to the beginning-

Philip's story ties into luz, they are foils in a lot of ways, but people need to remember they have differences outside of luz being a good person and philip being a bad person. Those differences make them into the people they are.

That luz was set up to love the isles in a way philip was set up to come in with a bias against it.

That it is not as simple as "Philip should of just got better" given what happened to him and the lack of help he had.

That philip never really is objectively shown to be offered genuine chances to reconsider his views on the show as much as people keep claiming so, and it's mostly all assumption at this point.

That so much of this argument over whether he's one way or the other could of been fixed if the show hadn't kept things vague.

By doing so, it leaves a lot for interpretation about him and therefore means people will have different views on what he thinks and feels and therefore will have different views on how his death should of been handled.

Caleb and philip tie into camila and luz, they tie into the clawthrone sisters, they are the basis for the plot of the series, they tie into hunter and the themes of being understood and being honest about yourself and conformity and it is no wonder people care about them.

It is incredibly valid if anyone expecting this story, that tied into the plot so hard ,as well as the themes, was upset it felt unexplained or dropped in the finale.

Especially since the fandom, with an obvious hatred for belos, responded to it by treating titan dad's word as god and simplifies philip's story completely despite everything i just mentioned here.

It is perfectly fine if you are not someone who cares about belos, but the people who do are perfectly allowed to be bothered that the show itself kept the complexity vague and not addressed and none of it mattered when it came to how his arc ended.

And that the only person who properly gives a personal opinion of what he thinks his motives are, simplifies him to being evil, and the fandom roles with that and the show never tries to do much to prove otherwise despite the evidence.

because this is a fascinating story about how conformity and bigotry can drive two close brothers apart and it feels like a story the show should of at least dedicated more of an episode to.

Especially since there's no clear idea if we'll ever get extra toh content to really tie any of this up.

Again, none of this excuses belos/philip for what he did, does, or tries to do, no amount of his life being screwed over and people treating him bad and not reaching out to him will ever excuse the fact he went so far.

But let's also just, not pretend it was an easy fix either, that someone can just....stop believing what they believe with the drop of a hat.

Especially given how this can reflect real people who are made into people like this.

He is nuanced, and people are attached to this villain for good reasons.

Nothing is simple about him, and it's just a product of how the show has handled his character.

[aihoshiino]

Oshi no Ko 145: A Story Without 「アイ」

The question of how exactly Aqua and Ruby were reborn is something that floats around vaguely in the early stages of the Oshi no Ko, teased as a mystery that will exist in the background as opposed to one actively pursued for resolution. My theory is that this element of the story was likely more prominent in the version of Oshi no Ko that was originally conceptualized (i.e, the one that did not involve Ai's death) but the abrupt change to the story's dramatic tone and intensity pushed it into the background. As it stands, Aqua's wishy-washy statement that he'll figure it out once he's done enjoying Baby Mode about matches the weight this is given is the narrative, at least to begin with.

Even with the turn in tone and focus the manga takes, we do ultimately circle back to addressing and answering this question via the presence of Crow Girl/Tsukuyomi who seems to be the one responsible for facilitating their reincarnation in some way or another. Admittedly, this reveal in 145 comes a bit abruptly and the implied motivations it ascribes to Tsukuyomi don't… really line up with the things she says and does prior to the Movie Arc. But what really left me a little cold with this reveal is that it does not involve Ai whatsoever. Her name and even her image are not even once mentioned, not even in passing by GRSR.

This made me feel pretty uncomfortable for a variety of reasons I'll get into later but it wasn't until I started going through the manga to look more into how the reincarnation had been discussed before that I realized just why this felt so jarring - it simply wasn't consistent with what came beforehand. While the current explanation excludes Ai entirely, prior discussion of GRSR's reincarnation centers her to an equal and opposite degree.

Both Gorou and Sarina are thinking of Ai as they die, with both of them also (even if only symbolically) hearing her voice in their final moments. Gorou hears her singing as his ringtone plays and Ruby says Ai was "singing in [her] head" up to the very end. Ai's face is implicitly the first thing either of them see after being reborn and Aqua even speculates, as his first guess as to the nature of their rebirth, that it was this strength of feeling all focused on specifically Ai that caused it to happen.

Not only that, but Ai is even centered in the "fake" story of their rebirth that the twins sell Miyako to get her on board.

Perception of this bit in the fandom seems to vary from "it's just a joke" to "Jokes Are The Deepest Lore" and beyond. I myself don't put a massive amount of weight on it. However, in discussions where this is taken even semi-seriously as foreshadowing then it is flatly disingenuous to cherrypick the AQRB crumbs while not giving the same weight to the (imo, equally loaded) implication that Gorou and Sarina were reborn as Ai's children because she herself was favoured by the gods.

As the murder mystery elements of the story take prominence, this question is left unanswered but resurfaces towards the end of the Private arc with the arrival of Tsukuyomi. Here, too, we see Ai being centered as a key figure in Gorou and Sarina's reincarnation - the chapter is even named 'Mother and Mother', in reference to both of Aqua's mothers for each of his lives.

Most tellingly of all to me, however, is Tsukuyomi's appearance at the end of the chapter. Literally her first speaking line is commenting on how kind the gods must be to bring the Hoshinos together - describing them as (paraphrased) two motherless children and a childless mother and ascribing a great deal of weight to their togetherness.

Even if you disagree that the manga is centering Ai in this context, it is undeniable that the togetherness of the Hoshinos as a trio and specifically as a mother and children is what Tsukuyomi is highlighting as being meaningful here.

We even see a repeat of this in chapter 118 and her first on-screen conversation with Aqua.

I've seen people take this to mean, in the context of future chapter hindsight, that she is claiming the 'meaning' of his rebirth is his connection to Ruby. But if you go back and follow the thread that leads to this mic drop... it's a conversation that's about Ai. And specifically, Aqua is told to consider what it means that his soul was reborn in that body (emphasis mine): i.e, what does it mean that he was reborn specifically as Ai Hoshino's son?

With all this laid out, I really don't think it's a stretch to say that Ai, both as an idol and a person, is treated as a more or less equal part of the GRSR -> AQRB reincarnation as the two people being reborn. Which, like… she should be! She's their mother. But when we do finally get around to concretely answering this question..

Zip. Zilch. Nada. It had nothing to do with her. The closest we get to an acknowledgement that she even exists full stop is her goofy ass bunny mascot's face on (presumably) Sarina's snowman.

As I've said before, the basic beats of this as an answer to 'why reincarnation' are not inherently bad or unworkable. An animal repaying human kindness in some supernatural way is a tale as old as tales and given the ways in which Oshi no Ko plays around with mythological and folkloric ideas, making the reincarnation the result of a Tsuru no Ongaeshi-esque repayment of selfless kindness suits it quite well. The issue here is not one of an inherently broken idea, but flawed execution.

If this is the final word on the hows and whys of Gorou and Sarina's reincarnation - and I feel more or less settled that it is - then Ai has been entirely excluded from the birth of her own children. The sheer amount of weight placed on her role, specifically, as Aqua and Ruby's mother has vanished because after all the build up of why? the answer seems to be just that she happened to be pregnant.

I don't think I need to overexplain why it feels gross for Ai to be reduced to a convenient walking uterus in this regard. This was the element of this answer that made me so uncomfortable when from the get go: Ai's arc is so overwhelmingly about her being denied the right to agency over her own body and sexuality and her giving birth to Aqua and Ruby is, in part, a reclamation of it. It wasn't just an act of love performed for her children but also one for herself - she risked everything in order to give herself the family she had longed for her entire life.

If this incongruity was intentional, I think I would be interested in it as an element of Ai's tragedy - the idea that even the birth of her own children was hijacked by forces beyond her control and warped into something that existed to serve her fans. But I really don't get the sense that this was considered at all and honestly… that's kind of equally sad.

I was wordvomiting a much less articulate version of all the above in the Oshi no Brainrot Discord server and @penguinkyun said a few things that I think really nailed the heart of the issue here:

"theres barely anything of ai here when shes such a central character […] removing ai's own emotional stake in the matter and rounding it up to "crow girl felt bad for gorou and sarina because they helped her that one time and then reincarnated them" just…doesnt hold the same impact."

This is, I think, key to what made this reveal fall so flat for me and highlights this chapter's place in a much broader trend of Ai's place in the twins' lives being downplayed and favour of amping up the intensity of the GRSR relationship. To once again quote Lace because I think she sums it up quite neatly:

"[...] akasaka is absolutely ramping up the soap operaness of grsr with ai as collateral."

And that just kind of bums me out. :(

[ph0enix-12]

Ichorverse - Chapter 1

~ Everlasting will of protection ~

Welcome to my greatest project. I am so very proud of this one, and i am happy to finally share it ^^. Please keep in mind that english is not my first language- and i promise chapters will get much lighter after the prologue. (cross-posted on Ao3)

CW: Slavery(non sexual), implied abuse, stavation, implied animal consumption

. Chapter 2 ->

He never remembered much of his life, even now, he still has problems with his memory, remembering even small things is hard thanks to injury to his head. A giant crack across most of his head that, of course, he didn’t recall when he got it.

His senses are what helped remember most of his life.

Far too clearly, he recalls the stink of death, the mold that grew on the walls, the dried blood on the whips and the rust of the chains that frayed under his fingers

He didn’t keep anything else from his early life,he always had only vague and fleeting feelings to latch on. Maybe he had a family once, maybe back when his skull wasn’t broken, but the result of trying to remember “the before” are splitting migraines, like his head is getting open all over again.

Pain also helped him remember. Like the pain collar around his neck that chained him to the wall of his cell. The pain around his wrists, where shackles dug into his bone as if to fuse with it. The pain of the cold and dirty floor that pricked himself sore back as he tried to rest.

Maybe he was allowed out sometimes?

He thought so at least, but all he seemed to keep from those times were the heavy weights that were strapped to his shoulders to carry. Maybe he was given crates, or stones, or some other material, but like everything else, he didn’t remember clearly, he simply carried what he was given in the direction shouts came from without really reminiscing about it.

The first thing he recalled clearly was a rat..a cute little fellow as hungry as he was that scurried around the cells when he rummaged up enough bravery to look for scraps.

During the first few encounters, the little guy had been cautious, watching him from far away as he tried to give him some crumbs from the stale bread he was given sometimes, scurrying closer only to grab them and run as fast as his little paws could take him.

With time, the cute fellow approached the trapped skeleton more often as he ate what little food he was given daily, which he always tried to give the small mouse somehow, even if it wasn’t a proper meal for them.

Sometimes, the skeleton would only be given peels, to keep him at bay and tired. It was pathetic, and he didn’t understand the reason for such small rations, or why he was kept away from other slaves. He was locked in a small cell to the very back of one of the hallways, he would thankfully never fully realize the real reason for such a thing.

He was being left for dead.

With each day, he was given less and less food and yet he still tried to share with the small mouse that visited him, but he was tired, he was tired and his bones felt like lead pulled down by gravity and the heavy chains that held him captive.

He didn't understand why.

He didn’t know that he was being left because they couldn't sell him fast enough. He didn’t realize they were letting him die.

If he had the strength to, he would have been angry. But his vision was clouded and his bones sore.

…It all culminated one particular day…or maybe it was night? He didn't know..it’s all still a blur for him.

The small fellow came to visit again, holding a small crumb of bread toward him.

The little one, who the skeleton had come to cherish so much, held in his little paws the piece like the skeleton himself had done many days.

And then the little buddy was no more.

To this day…he doesn’t know what happened.

The small one was sitting right in front of him..and now the crumb was discarded to the side, and the little fellow laid unmoving.

He looked down at his bloodied hands confused as blood spilled down his teeth and down to his chin.

There were loud noises outside his cell, like stomps of heavy armored boots, but all was muffled and confused..he felt flesh between his teeth and droplets of blood running down his sore throat, refreshing it like water would do.

Even if he didn’t understand his actions, he cried, tears he hadn't felt in a long time ran down his face. He only knew that the little fellow wasn’t going to get up anymore…“by the great crown of Reaper-” was the first thing he was able to make out from a pained and soft voice outside of his cell.

The captive skeleton turned to look at the voice that came from a strange man.

The man looked at him with a sad expression from behind the bars, holding onto one of them to look down at the prisoner.

He simply stared at the man unmoving and quiet like he always was.

The man stood before the bars that kept him in, staring at the chains that bound him to the walls.

He was small, a third of the size the prisoner was, but he still looked imponent and powerful, an old golden scar ran on one side of his face.

The skeleton couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but the way his deep seafoam eye grazed over him, almost made it seem like he was looking for something.

Then he suddenly opened the cell.

The captive skeleton tensed up, his instincts screamed at him, adrenaline rushing in his mana lines immediately once the man stepped into the cage. He heard him say something along the lines of a reassurance as he carefully approached him while showing his hands. But it didn’t matter at that moment, the captive was terrified.

Once the man was close enough, the skeleton leaped at him, biting down on his forearm.

He bit down hard on it. He was scared and his mind was clouded but he still heard his groan of pain and saw his golden blood spilled down onto the dirty floor.

Guards of his tried to approach, but he yelled back at them, ordering not to come close.

The captive skeleton didn't care, he still held his forearm in his maw..

As the adrenaline started to die down, he heard him speak finally.

“It’s alright…I know you must be scared…it’s okay” he spoke between his teeth and his voice trembled as he gently moved his free hand to the slave's back, “I startled you by approaching, didn’t I? I am sorry”

He slowly relaxed as he started to finally understand what he was saying. He felt his hand stroking his back as he kneeled down on the ground, almost hugging the slave as his teeth bore into his forearm, letting blood drip down in golden flocks.

He kept speaking softly, apologizing for scaring him …he was nice, and slowly, the jaw with a vice grip on him released his arm. The slave felt a small prick on his neck and he finally passed out in the man's arms.

———————

When he woke up again, he felt softness under his head first and his fingers grazed over a blanket that was wrapped around him. Was he in bed?

It was a struggle at first, but he was finally able to open his eye after a lot of tries.

He was, indeed, laying down in a bed.

The slave slowly ran the blanket between my fingers, it was a very nice ‘cottony’ material. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was.

The room looked like an infirmary, it was luminous thanks to the large window beside the bed he laid in, giving him a full view of the garden outside. He figured he was on the third floor of whatever place he had been taken to.

The sun was peeking behind the horizon and night was falling judging by the colors of the sky.

He looked around the other side of the room and he froze when he saw the man he had bitten sitting on a chair beside his bed. The captive skeleton calmed down when he realized the man was sleeping soundly.

He had dark circles under his eye and his forearm where he had been bitten was wrapped in bandages. He studied the man, he didn’t look relaxed even in his sleep, he held a rag in his hand tightly and he was slumped in the chair. Had he been awake all night?

His eye fell on his wrapped arm and he felt his soul tightened up…even if he had bitten him, he now had no chains on himself, his scars were wrapped and he was in a comfortable bed. The skeleton didn’t understand why, beasts like him that bit were discarded and never seen again..and yet, here he was alive and relatively well.

The man stirred and made a small noise, like cats do when first waking up. His gaze shot to the man in alarm, his eye was blown wide as he slowly woke.

The man noticed he was awake, almost relieved, “ah..there you are. How do you feel?” He stirred in his seat, fixing up his posture, “is there anything you need?” He kept asking with a patient and kind tone , his eye roaming over the sheets to check the skeleton without moving.

His throat felt tight and his voice came out raspy as he started to shed tears, “I….sorry-“ he wanted to apologize, but his vocal cords burned, “I..bit- i….sorry-“ his voice was barely a whisper, but he was thankful the man heard him.

His features softened, “there is no need to apologize..I simply startled you-“ his words didn’t hit him right away, he kept crying desperately, sobbing as he tried to breathe between hiccups. “So- rry..” he sobbed again.

The king’s hand moved to his skull, gently petting away from his old injury. “Please don’t cry, there is nothing to apologize for” the skeleton slowly calmed down, shutting his mouth as tears ran down his face. He moved the rag in his other hand to wipe away the tears, “do not weep, I beg you” he looked at me with pitiful eye still, like he had done when he was in his cell.

“My name is Nightmare. Could you tell me yours?”

His name? He didn’t remember his real name, did he even have a name? “H-Horror. My name…is Horror” he spoke weakly, that was what he was called a couple of times, he figured maybe that was his name then.

He smiled again, gently petting the skeleton, “It is nice to meet you then, Horror” he tucked in his blankets and he got up, “are you hungry, Horror?” He was making it a point to use his name for some reason.

Horror’s eye widened at the mention of food. Horror nodded uncertainty and Nightmare smiled. “For now, you will have a light diet, but I am sure you will soon eat anything you wish” he brought out a plate full of nutritious food for his and the skeleton’s mouth watered.

A bowl of hot porridge stood at the edge of the tray, next to it layed a scrambled egg, a couple of pieces of toast, juicy fruits and fresh vegetables. He settled down the tray and helped the skeleton sit up against the pillows, “there we go, dig right in” he smiled at him as he handed him the food.

He could only stare at it. It smelled like the greatest feast on earth and yet he couldn't move.

He remembered just then that the handlers loved to flaunt their food to them, the punishment for trying to sneak a bite was often a sound flogging to the back. The king stood beside me as he stared at the food…the man- Nightmare, seemed safe, but fear locked up his joints.

He sat beside Horror, gently taking the toast from the plate and decorating it with the scrambled egg. “Would you be more comfortable if we ate together?” He leaned the toast and egg toward him, “go on, no need to hesitate”

Horror trembled, but he still leaned in, following his order.

He took a small nibble out of the corner of the toast before looking at him uncertain again, his expression changed only to smile at Horror. He took a small bite as well before passing the bread to the freed slave again. He felt relieved to see him eat as well and so he took a bigger bite of both toast and egg.

The toast was nicely roasted on some walnut wood from what he could tell and the scrambled egg was soft and garnished with high quality herbs. He made a soft groan as he tasted the parcel on my tongue, it was the most divine thing he had ever tasted.

He took another hungry bite, and then another, and then yet another until the toast was no more. Nightmare smiled at him, handing Horror the spoon for the porridge.

He ate that as well, without hesitation this time.

The entire thing was finished, he made sure not to leave a crumb…but now he felt bad, looking sadly at the man beside him since he hadn’t left anything for him other than fruit, he simply smiled again.

“I am glad you enjoyed that, it’s good that you have an appetite” Nightmare petted him gently, “please do not worry. I promise I will eat as well now, but you need to rest” he nodded, all he wanted was for Nightmare to eat too now.

The king gently tucked him in again, making sure he was comfortable. “Rest now, I will come back to visit you soon” .

Horror looked up at the ceiling above once Nightmare shut the door behind himself. He didn’t know what would happen next, but for once, he wasn’t scared.