#he is a coward and the kids with knives

[ruporas]

post ep 11

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 11: Fistful of Tacks

Bearblr Promptober Day 11: Corn Maze

Summary: Carmen's girlfriend (who he refers to as Darling) joins the kitchen crew on a trip to a corn maze and pumpkin patch that Nat organized, and Carmen is struggle bussing. (Feat. Sydney, Marcus, mentions of Tina, Richie, Eva, Nat, Pete, Nat's daughter)

Warnings: Anxiety, self-worth issues, mentions of disordered eating, mentions of nausea, mentions of panic attacks, swearing, fem reader who is a trauma surgeon (nothing gross described), she/her pronouns, mentions of The Devil (Chef David)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

11 Oct 2024

Why the fuck do people like corn mazes?

No, thank you, I don’t feel like getting lost in fucking corn with a bunch of random people for hours; I could be doing so much more with my time. It’s corn. It invades everything in the Midwest already, for what purpose would you want to intentionally seek out more of that invasion? Getting some freshly-harvested corn for grilled corn, corn chowder, creamy corn sauce with gnocchi, I’m pretty sure Marcus could make a killer sweet cornbread crumble-type thing—sure, I’ll haul my ass to the nearest fucking cornfield—

“Is that a no on the corn maze then…?”

“It’s a fuck no on the corn maze, Syd.”

—But no, I’m not doing a damned corn maze.

Syd recoiled. “Oh. Alright, okay, Jesus. Sorry for bothering you.”

Darling hugged my arm tighter and pouted. “Aw, but I did them with my grandma all the time when I was little. They were so fun.”

I covered my eyes and dug my thumb and fingers into my temples to stave off the dull ache forming in my frontal lobe. “I don’t feel like getting lost in corn.”

Syd. “You just follow the left wall, though.”

Marcus joined us at our table. “You do what now?”

“That’s how you solve mazes, you follow the left wall.”

“Huh.” His voice drew closer to my ear. “You okay, Chef?”

I nodded. Still had my palm over my face. It wasn’t the loudest it could’ve been—again, we beat a lot of families with kids, who tended to show up after 2 pm, according to the people who ran the pumpkin patch and corn maze, and Chicago decided that particular Sunday would be the respite day of hell-with-some-respite season, so it wasn’t murderously hot or humid out. Richie and Tiff were off co-parenting Eva in the pumpkin patch, so that meant I didn’t have to listen to his bullshit—though, admittedly, he was much less bullshit since his stint at Ever, even if we hit that snag after Friends and Family where I thought about launching knives at him every time he happened to be within striking distance.

Boy, am I glad I’m too much of a coward to actually act like the animal I sound like sometimes.

Nat organized something of a family and friends’ get-together to celebrate half a year of being open as a restaurant—and maybe to force us all to take a bit of a break now that we weren’t looking at a bad week potentially shuttering us. I brought it up to Darling not expecting her to jump at the prospect of meeting the whole group—should’ve known, she’s a social butterfly, and, if I was being honest, it was the primary reason I asked. So, she could help buffer in a social setting. These were people I worked with, would take a bullet for, but outside the restaurant, I had barely any social footing. And I wanted to. Have social footing, that is. Darling liked being around people, and while she never complained about me wanting our time together to be our time together, something nagged at me to at least be able to tolerate socializing.

We met up and poked around the market they had nearby for some small decorations we could put in the restaurant that fit the season. Little things that locals made by hand—a macrame wall-hanging, little ceramic pumpkins with paper florals arranged in them, some planters. The planters were Syd’s idea. Bring a bit of greenery to the four-tops. Tina was fawning over Sug and Pete’s baby while they took pictures of her first fall. Or. Something. I don’t know, I had too much on my mind and my head was killing me before we even made it to the pumpkin patch and corn maze. Darling suggested we stop for a bite to eat, sit at the covered tables to get out of the sun for a bit.

She’s smart like that.

We weren’t doing the best with our margins. I forwent being paid to make sure Syd made enough to keep her apartment, and even she was making sacrifices in her pay to make sure front-of-house didn’t get shafted. About 2 weeks ago, my apartment's stove goes, then two of the radiators do, and the landlord—an aside here: fuck landlords. I hope hell exists so landlords can burn in them with me.—anyway, the landlord is being a shit about it, so I’ve been crashing at Darling’s place. But then her range and oven also go to the shitter, like, 3 days later?

Like I said: fuck landlords.

Which means I’m on week two of having to rely on overnight oats and fucking granola bars, family, and takeout or unviable food from service that’s still at least calories, and because we’re getting this shit dialed, that usually means scraps. If any. And you’d think a motherfucker like me who got his shit kicked in when working in New York would be able to tolerate eating literally anything, but that’s the thing—I already did this shit, and it’s already fucked me up. I can’t even get it down anymore without my arms and legs exploding in goosebumps. Without seeing, hearing, feeling, smelling Empire and The Devil all over again. Half the time, I just go hungry and ignore the pangs in my stomach until I get caught up enough in work that I forget about eating, and then whoops, 14 hours have gone by and I haven’t eaten a thing and bile surges at the base of my throat and my eyes water, I can’t breathe. And I get to Darling’s place with what used to be a local favorite, and four bites in, I’m so sure I’m going to throw up because it just tastes like stomach acid and my guts are twisting into knots from anxiety anyway.

Something slid across the table in front of me, and two breaths later, the scent of grilled meat, pepper, vinegar, onions, and mustard filled my nose. My jaw stung as my mouth watered. Darling untangled an arm from around mine and rubbed across my shoulder blades.

“How about we try to eat something, hm?” she cooed.

I picked the pickles off the Chicago dog before inhaling a third of it in one bite. Goosebumps exploded under my jacket.

“Wow, how’d you do that?” Syd asked.

“How’d I do what?”

“Get him to do, uh, anything?”

“Fuck off, Syd,” I said through a mouthful of food.

She snorted into her apple cider.

“Sweetheart,” Darling warned, punctuating it by raking her fingers through my hair to get it off my forehead.

“She did not just call you ‘sweetheart.’” Syd again. I could hear her smiling.

My face flooded with warmth.

God fucking dammit.

Thankfully, Marcus spoke up. “Come on, let ‘em have it or we’re gonna torment you when you find yourself someone nice.”

“Like hell you are!”

“Oh, I’ll remember! Karma, baby!”

Syd let out a huff of a laugh. I wish I would’ve seen her face to get a better sense of how she felt about the idea of letting someone into her life. It’s strange, really, how similar yet different we were, like two clippings taken from the same tree, planted in different pots, placed in different homes. There’s this deep, unidentifiable thread of connection that I feel with her—and she feels with me, I’m sure of it because how else could she call my bullshit for what it was while still preserving the feeling of safety that eluded me everywhere else but a locked room or, sparingly, though getting more frequent, in Darling’s arms? Sort of like a family member you haven’t seen in an eternity but you know would have your back in an instant if you got into trouble. If I’d found out we were twins separated at birth, I wouldn’t question it for a second. And I doubt I’d want to protect her any differently.

She’s got that fire in her eyes that I used to see in my own when I stared into my reflection back in Copenhagen. Feels like an entire lifetime ago (Darling told me that trauma can make time feel like it’s not real, and I’m only finding more and more reason to never doubt the woman) but, back then, I did want something out of cooking that went beyond flipping Mikey the bird. It wasn’t that I wanted the best chef title or even a bullshit star, I wanted to prove something to myself. I wanted to throw a fistful of tacks back at that persistent, shitty voice in my head that kept telling me that I’d never do much, never make a thing of myself. I never did well in school, I didn’t get into college, I didn’t have any friends, I wasn't funny, I couldn’t help my mom, I couldn’t stop Sugar from going mad, I couldn’t keep up with Mikey, I couldn’t ask Claire out, I never made it past districts in wrestling—I was good for fuck all, and that stupid fucking phonograph reminding me of all the shit I couldn’t or didn’t do wouldn’t shut. The fuck. Up.

Syd’s got that fire in her eyes. Syd’s got that passion that I wanted, that I found for a brief stint before The Devil sunk his claws into me. And yeah, I could do fuck all to protect Mikey from his own demons or Sugar from mom’s, but I will glass this planet before I let it stamp out her flames. And doing it like I did? By cutting out people and burying myself neck-deep in the craft of food? Would I stand by and let her do that to herself, too?

Darling erupting into a giggle fit brought me back to the pumpkin patch.

“It looks like it’s got a big ol’ pot belly—look at it!” Syd pointed at a pumpkin with a large lump in it and did an exaggerated walk with her arms up and her cheeks puffed out. Eva giggled at her antics. Darling and I were a bit away from the others as they discussed... something about the pumpkins, I couldn’t even begin to figure out what. I glanced around, tried to get a sense of where and when I was.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Darling murmured, circling around in front of me and taking my face in her hands. “There you are. Where’d you go?”

Her hands were cool, familiar, grounding. I didn’t feel like I was boiling in my skin, which had to be a good sign, right?

“How-how long, uh...?”

She shrugged as Cousin, Eva, Tiff, Syd, and Marcus laughed again. “15 minutes, maybe.”

“Why-why didn’t you snap me out of it?”

“Well, you did eat your food. I figured it probably was a good idea not to interrupt that. And you weren’t warm. Or shaky. Or upset.” She finger-combed my hair back again. “I figured it wouldn’t be the worst thing to let you process for a bit... We gotta do something about your hair, baby.”

“Yeah, I need to get it cut.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think you need to—unless it’s bothering you. But you should put something in it.” Some strands got caught on her fingers, and I flinched at the sting. “Ope, sorry. It’s starting to get crispy on the ends.”

I eyeballed the sign pointing to the entrance of the corn maze while she picked through more knots in my hair.

She kissed my cheek. “What’cha thinking, handsome?”

“How long do you think the corn maze would take us?”

“Um. Hm.” She wrapped her arms around my waist and tucked her head under my chin. I forgot about the friends and family present and hugged her back. Kissed the top of her head. “Maybe an hour. Why?”

“I’d like to try it.” It came out like a question.

My phone dinged.

She pulled back and beamed at me. “Yeah? You sure?”

Her excitement wrenched a smile from me, too. How could I not? She was adorable.

“Yeah. Just need some quiet time.”

She took off for the maze, and I followed. Glanced at my phone to make sure it wasn’t something important.

2 messages from Sugar.

A photo of the two of us hugging, followed by a message saying, “You two are so cute. I'm proud of you, Bear.”

I stopped, glanced back at her. She was holding her daughter, giant smile on her face, in the middle of pocketing her phone. She tipped her head in the direction of the maze and mouthed “Go.”

I saved the photo to my favorites album and headed to the corn maze.

[charliedawn]

Hey, I don't see any post saying requests are closed. Please correct me it I'm wrong, and I'll resend this ask when they're open :)

I saw one of your slasher posts about an new patient who was an omega and I've been wondering how a/b/o au slashers would react to a beta new patient who they saw as their own pup?(basically everyone is a father figure to this kid lol) I love platonic fluff and you're one of the few slasher writers who write platonic stuff and I love your writing, please stay hydrated and have a good day! :D

Here you go 😁 And thank you.

Freddy Krueger:

"You and I…we gonna be best buddies."

Freddy is a beta. Meaning: no real dominance or protective instincts.

He’d basically laugh his ass off while you run around and cause havoc or eat popcorn with Pennywise while they watch.

He’d train you in the ways of 'don’t give a toss' and 'get outta my way, bitch'.

Freddy would still protect you if he sees you in real danger, but he’d be the type of cool dad who just wants to chill and walk around in flip flops.

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms would be a worry heart.

He’d worry 24/7 about you.

Have you eaten ? Have you drank ? Have you slept well ? Are you hurt ? Do you wanna play ?…

He’d cry his eyes out if he sees a scratch on you and whoever would dare cause you harm would end up beaten up.

Brahms is strong—even though he is an omega. He’d be the one to take care of you and make sure you’re perfectly safe.

Arthur Fleck:

Arthur would give you the best advice. He’s a beta—but used to be an omega. He’d have the heart without being overemotional about things.

"Don’t worry, things can look up. You just gotta wait and see."

"Be a doll and smile. Smiling will open up many doors for you."

"Do not listen to Freddy, sweetie. He is a bad influence. Matter-of-fact ? Do not listen to anyone else but me and Michael."

He would be your voice of reason in your darkest moments, but don’t ALWAYS listen to him because he is a patient for a reason…

Penny:

Overpossessive. Overprotective. Overthinking. Overdoing.

Penny would be the embodiment of "over-the-top". Doesn’t have any chill and would bite and scratch if anyone as much as looks at you the wrong way.

He can also read minds…which can be kind of a problem.

Penny *growls at a nurse* : "I DARE you to say what you want to say, coward."

He would also be very playful and play with you all day long. He’s got unending energy and would even put on shows for you.

Michael Myers:

Michael would be the only responsible one, as the Alpha of the slashers.

He’d make sure to never allow you near his knives or any sharp objects. He’d teach you self-defense. He’d also cook for you and teach you all of his skills (non-lethal)

He would also protect you but, would always use a weapon that won’t be too traumatic for your adorable self…like a baseball batt or a something else to just knock out the person who dared attack your person.

But Myers ? Myers would kill for you.

Myers has no parental instinct or remorse.

He kills because he can.

Father Paul Hill:

Father Paul—as a Beta—would protect you with his life. He always wanted to be a father and would immediately take you under his wing.

Comparing to other slashers, you could almost call him a pacifist. He would never start a fight. Never.

He would teach you and give you a proper education. He would also take care of you and give you the affection you need.

And if you get hurt ?

He’d protect you—no matter the cost.

Father Paul *covered in blood and crying* : "No…No no no…Not again. Please. Not again."

Patrick Bateman:

Patrick Bateman would teach you how to kill and get away with murder. He is a Beta himself, but always hated that title because he always saw himself as an Alpha.

He’d explain to you the human anatomy and how to chop off a body in the most efficient and effective way possible.

He would also teach you the ways of society and bureaucracy like no one else could. Patrick is very observant and dangerous. He has no empathy.

Meaning: Make sure he KEEPS liking you.

Patrick *looking at you and wondering if having a kid is worth it and how he’d do it to get rid of you before smiling and locking the thought into a very far away box at the back of his mind*

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent is an Omega. He would fight tooth and nail to protect you.

He’d also let you braid his hair and you’d draw together or do some fun artsy activities.

He’d show you how to do pottery and play with clay to make animal shapes or even human-like.

But, Vincent is in therapy and is being closely monitored and watched so he wouldn’t show you how to make wax people.

He would also be very affectionate with you and give you a lot of hugs, unlike Bo who would just pat your head and call it a day.

Jack Torrance:

"Let’s get takeout." Jack’s favourite sentence.

Jack would be a very lazy and chill kinda dad for a beta. He would take you to movies or read you a book.

He also loves food so…he’d get you pizza or nachos and you’d just settle on the couch with him and do nothing—just chilling.

He’d be the dad you go to when you don’t wanna do anything and you’re tired. He’d also be the type to live in his pajamas and tell you that it’s too early at 1pm.

You would then just sleep or he’d tell you things about his old life if he’s up for it.

He would protect you if you are in danger, but he would make sure that you don’t get into trouble in the first place cause you can’t do no wrong when you’re chilling all day…

[beanghostprincess]

I’ve been thinking about things and do you think one of the things that irks Buggy most about the damn straw hat is that not only that Roger gave it to his best friend as a sign of his faith in him while he himself never got an acknowledgment like that, not only had Shanks the GALL to give that hat away to someone else, but also because Buggy never had anything like this to remember Roger by?

Shanks got the damn hat, something that belonged to Roger and he cherished and loved, it’s basically a heirloom at this point and Buggy got… nothing. Oh of course Roger probably brought some stuff for Buggy back sometimes, gave him some knives or got him a silly shirt or something likewise when he was a teen, but Shanks was the only one of them who ever got his hands on something that belonged to Roger. Buggy emulates his old captains style sometimes, copies the big coat and the flashy outfits because he had such high admiration for this man, but by god would he have slitted throats to even have something as simple as one of his captains old bandanas to remember him by. If he ever gotten gifted an old coat by him he wouldn’t even wear the damn thing because even tough it technically has no worth, it would be the most priceless thing Buggy owns and he would fuss over it constantly.

A lone earring, a rusty knife, a coat button, something, anything! Anything would have done, but no, Shanks got to keep something of their old captain that he had loved and cherished… and Shanks gave it away without a second thought.

Its just pain station for me tonight and this sailed into my head

What happened to hello how are you 😭 Why making me cry,,, Stop,,,

But I actually think about this a lot. A lot. I adore Shanks and I doubt he even thought about it when he gave the hat to Luffy, but even if it was a bet for the future and he did it with the best of intentions, the pain Buggy must've felt seeing a complete stranger (a kid, too) wearing his captain's (dad) hat? Honestly, he already saw Shanks as a coward and a disgrace for not wanting to follow Roger's steps right away, and the fact that he gave the hat to somebody else just makes Buggy resent Shanks more for, not only not appreciating the one thing their captain left for them, but not even asking Buggy first. Lke, it'd be a ridiculous conversation because Buggy would be like "you should've told me" and Shanks would've gone like "you were the one who left", so uhh, the fight wouldn't go anywhere, really.

The point here is that I constantly think about Buggy seeing Luffy and obviously realizing he's the future and agreeing with Shanks in that aspect (reluctantly) but still seeing it as unfair that Shanks did this. Because he didn't have enough by keeping the one thing their captain left behind, but he had to give it away to somebody else as if it weren't important when Buggy didn't have anything.

Once again going into the "Roger liked Shanks better" discourse, but I'm hopeful we will get more stuff about Roger and Buggy's dynamic. I hope.... I hope...

[the-fabled-void]

So those afterdeath and colorkiller playlists sound interesting

I have one song I choose for Afterdeath, and I currently only have one for ColorKiller

Analysis under the cut!

Afterdeath

Playlist:

Song: My Love Is Sick

(same singer and album as the other)

"My love is sick

It leaks and bleeds

All over me onto my nicest shirt"

Geno's pov, both in reference to his blood/determination and to how he feels like his love would only lead to people getting hurt

"Vines without roots

Like knives in my body

And I am their puppet

Twisting ‘til I hurt"

Loving again after so long of only being trapped, either alone or with the kid who's his killer

"My love is sick

I’m running a fever so high

I peel my skin to breathe"

Geno feels like getting close to someone will harm him, he feels the way it's draining him

"Birds without cages

Find perch on my ribs and I

Stitch myself back up to keep them in"

Reaper, with wings, and kinda bird mannerisms. And Geno knowing that, no matter how much it hurts him, he's already attached. He's going to ignore anything that hurts him, and he's also so dependent on him, it's so painful when he leaves

"You’re an infection

I am keeping

No matter the sepsis

You are staying

I’d rather the wound

Than have you removed

Enough rotting for two

Killing me, keeping me high"

I think... They aren't exactly that good for each other, not 100% in this version. They're not perfect, but despite that, they're both equally attached

"My love is sick

It’s messy and wrong

But I pray for a bit of contagion

Hands without fingers

Like spoons at the source

Coat evenly

Oh, won’t you touch me?"

Perhaps Reaper is a bit more openly affectionate (not flirty pervert, just... desperate love-starved) and Geno wants to allow himself to feel this affectionate too

"You’re the cure

You’re the curse

You make it better

You make it worse

You’re my killer

And my Christ

(But I’m the one twisting the knife)"

They're both making each other better by giving each other affection and company they need, and yet they also make each other worse by giving the other something they can only get from the other

"My love is sick

It’s taken me whole

I’m simply a host to a haunting

Ghosts without corpses

Still linger in flesh

Holding on to a love they keep wanting"

They feel like their relationship to each other defines them now?

-

Okay okay, for

ColorKiller

so far it's only one song so I'm analysing that one

The situation I'm imagining is, they're in the omega timeline, they're living together there and Killer is in stage one, newly left nightmare's gang

Song: Dogbird by Madds Buckley

"Sorry that I’m scared of thunder like a dog

I know that you love rain

But I cry when something shakes the walls

Tail between my legs

I scratch while you relax

Ruffling feathers watching storm clouds pass"

Killer isn't used to this normalcy, talking to the other inhabitants, he prefers to stay away

"Hoping I’ll make you hate the thunder too

Digging in my claws will make you hate me too"

A part of Killer wants to hurt Color, just to see what happens, if he'll hate him

"I can’t stand you in my bed

You’re too gentle

I need you to hurt me back instead

I wish I could take you back to California

Where you’ve never heard of creatures like me

Little Bird won’t you fly away

Little Bird won’t you fly away"

He doesn't think he deserves being treated nicely by him or by others, he's warning him, seeing himself as a ticking time bomb

"And sorry that I roll over to my folks

It’s not that I’m ashamed

But they keep me on the leash to choke

I’m a hunting breed

And bird is all they eat

If they sniff you out, they gnash their teeth

I’m a coward scared of living outside

Even if it means I crush you at my side"

Keeping the idea of the first part to myself for a possible animatic, but the second part of that is basically, Killer is so afraid of other people, he's become dependant on Color and he's fully aware of it, but he can't help it

"I can’t stand you in my bed

You’re too gentle

I need you to hurt me back instead

I wish I could take you back to California

Where you’ve never heard of creatures like me

Little Bird won’t you fly away

Little Bird won’t you fly away"

Same thing as the first time this is sung... Unless

"When the bell rings

My mouth waters

I’m a habit

That won’t alter

I’m an instinct

Don’t you fear me?

Hunting songbirds in my sleep"

Kinda off topic, I love the first line being 'when the bell rings, my mouth waters', it's a reference to classical conditioning aka Pavlov's dog. The theory stating that if you pair something you typically don't have a reaction to (bells) with something you have a reaction to (food) enough times, you'll be reacting to the first thing (the bell) with the reacting you'd usually only react with to the second thing (mouth watering at food)

So anyway, Killer reacting to Color scolding him for something with violence or submission because he's used to getting hurt when he's scolded

Bonus, he feels like he can't control his other stages, so he describes them as more animalistic

"Sorry that I don’t treat you like I should

I only lick my wounds

Teeth bared, and snap

“You’re all that’s good”

If I chase you away

I’m back to chasing tail

Running circles after what was real

And maybe one day I’ll catch it, and I’ll cry

Wishing that little songbird was still mine"

Killer when he realizes he chased Color away thinking that's the consequences of his actions (i also have a lot of thoughts related to Color himself)

-

And that's both songs! I still have more for Afterdeath. Let me know if you want any more analysis in general

[ask-dcf]

*There is silence… in the air… Frisk looks absolutely horrified…*

*Frisk has the face of absolute trauma and fear… as this almost sounds similar to their life before they met Data… While Chara stares… and looks ready to burst*

*She gets up*

*Before she could continue they spoke once again*

”Once upon a time. There was a colony of cats. They lived in a cave. All of them black and not allowed to be apart of society. They hunted anything from bugs to tiny animals. They were so many that they even hunted bulls and humans. The worse offense, was they ate their own kind. These black cats were the most hated creatures. But they lived in a society where they believed they were above the rules of Mother Nature. One day. A gentle kitten born from this colony who’s as destined to lead this clan, was quite a coward. And so she ran from her cave. She ran and ran and fell off a cliff. When she came to she found herself on a farm. A baby goat found her and brought her to his herd. The goat herd did not know of the evil cats and lived in peace. So they took her in as their own. They taught her to leap, they taught her to bump heads, and taught her to play. However, the cat only ate grass… and she could not live off it. A hunger grew inside her, foam frothed at her mouth. She tricked the goat who saved her to go on a hill. And tell him she was dying of hunger. She said that if he let her eat him, they would be together forever. The baby goat naively believed her. And as she ate the goat, she cried out in anguish. As this hunger she blamed on her own kind. And so. She went back to her colony. And began killing every cat in the cave. The males, females, kits, even the unborn from the females in labor. The more she killed the bigger she became. Until there was no cat left. She couldn’t be satisfied. She hated them. She hated herself. And she hated the world. She left the cave in hopes the herd would take her in. But when she came back. The herd was all but dead. As the baby goat they had held a cure to a disease they had. That the farmer who tended the land was preparing. The cat now finally realized that she was cursed. Everything she touched did nothing but destroy. And so she lost herself in her anger and hate. She prowled the farm. Eating some mice she found. One of which fell in front of her. She did not care. She ate. She killed. It was all she knew now. Until a loud bang was heard upon the farm. The cursed kitten was shot. By the farmer. And so she was buried. But it is said that she still prowls on the farm. Hunting and eating. Because for her…. It was now fun to her…. Because she knew what she did… was for LOVE.”

*Chara stares. With her eye twitching*

*She looks up in horror realizing she may be next*

*Meanwhile Chara grits her teeth and her wings turn sharp like knives again. Her claws come out slowly as she scrapes the ground with them in an angry grip*

*she slashes at the two eggs but they turn to fog and reappear in the air, looking a bit different, as if puppets dangling by strings*

“There was a baby rabbit. Who was left on the porch of a human family. The mother was sick and was dying. So she left her there all alone in the rain. The humans took her in. But they had many other pets who were mean. And the children handled the pets poorly. The snake would choke the rabbit. The hamster would bite the rabbit. And the chicken would peck at the rabbit. The human kids were not smart when it came to handling the baby rabbit. Holding her by the ears. Tossing her around. And dressing her up clothing that was too tight around her. One day the family bought a goat. The rabbit was treated fairly by the goat. And so the rabbit believed foolishly that he was her father. For she did not know what love was until this goat took care of her. However. One day… the goat disappeared. As he was sold off to a farm. Leaving the rabbit all alone. The rabbit soon died as she was thrown at a wall by one of the human parents in a drunken fit of rage. The baby rabbit died crying out for her fake father to come find her. Only to never see him again. As he had died during an accident at the farm. He grew sick as the rabbits mother did. As the disease took them both. In the end. The rabbit was reunited with her mother and father. In the beyond of the void.”

*Alice couldn't quite understand it, but the story hit her personally. The way it was worded… It struck a nerve. She could feel tears streaming down her face as she absorbed the story, trying to process it all. Alice soon broke down into a heaping, sobbing mess on the ground, clutching her head. She couldn't understand why the story was effecting her this way.*

*These stories… Were clearly… about our young heroes…*

[flooftyfizzlebeans]

Not me thinking about the desperate situation that would lead to cannibalism

I'm imagining the temperature drops. Over the course of a few days, the snow on the mountain creeps downwards until the whole town is soft and blanketed. Maybe the island drifted north. Maybe it's a Snakolyte plot to save us from the hivemind. Maybe it doesn't matter.

Crops die. Bugsnax disappear. Soon the town scatters once again.

Some stay put where Filbo dependably makes a fire every day. Some try to flee to the desert, only to find the temperatures are only slightly warmer. It doesn't make up for the lack of shelter.

Lizbert and Eggabell are forgotten.

Of course Snorpy and Chandlo flee. Beffica too. They'd rather go alone than see what is inevitably going to happen.

Those that remain take refuge in Grmables barn. As the snow grows heavier, we have to huddle for warmth. Make fire indoors. It's too cold out to chop trees. My frostbitten fingers are proof enough of that. We're running low on firewood. Everyone is so hungry. Our paradise frozen before their very eyes.

Cromdo drops the salesman bit and uses all of his stock trying to keep the group alive. Shelda's meager rations keep hope in their eyes. Floofty has a few chemicals that won't kill is to burn for warmth.

But.... The morning when Floofty desperately tries to shake Shelda awake to no avail... Neither Filbo or I are strong enough to keep the fighting from breaking out.

Blows are exchanged, the shouting becomes too much. Harsh words turn to claws on flesh, blood in the deep snow. Filbo drops like a stone. I feel a paw take mine and drag me out of the town.

When I come out of my daze, Cromdo's made a fire in a cave, put a blanket over my shocked form. Hes making pine needle tea. Surprisingly, going up the mountain might save us.

"Who am I kidding? There's no hope." I sigh.

"I know, but that doesn't mean you stop fighting. Just means you change tactic." Cromdo scolds me.

"And run like cowards?" I poke the fire aimlessly. "They're dead down there. We're all dead."

"We survived because we're cowards. We'll keep surviving like cowards."

I sit with that. He pours me another cup.

"Yknow, I chose this cave because I hid some booze in here. Think Beffica took it before I could though."

I smile. The thought is nice.

I stare into the fire, replying the images in my mind. I know what I must do.

When Cromdo falls asleep, I tick him in, and leave him alone.

When he awakes the next morning, he awakes to a fantastic smell. Bacon? Hamburgers? He's never smelled anything like it before in his life.

He gets out of his cocoon of stolen blankets, catching me setting the table. One of my blankets for a tablecloth, plates from.... somewhere. Forks and knives. There's a stick in the middle I'm trying to light on fire to try and simulate a candle.

On the plates are large cuts of meat, cooked and served beautifully.

"Hey, kid? What are you-"

"Have a seat, sir."

....and he does. He sits across from me, both of us bundled up.... but keeping up the charade that it's a fancy restaurant. I see him hesitate... before taking the first bite.

"Wow, I didn't know you could cook."

"I didn't need to, until now."

We chat. We talk about our normal lives. What we did in the city. The lives we left behind for this dump. He talks about his daughter. His ex wife. I talk about the string of unlucky articles that put me on thin ice.

His hand finds mine once again. This time, it's an invitation to stay near.

We finish our dishes.

"I really... enjoyed this." He starts.

"Me too."

"So uh.... who did we just eat?"

...

"I don't think it's best to know." I say.

Cromdo thinks for a moment.

"Yeah, you're right."

We sit in silence.

His paw on mine, he leads us back to bed. We're both so tired. We lay down on the cold stone floor, wrapped in each other's arms, under all our cloth and blankets and insulation...both deciding...

not to keep the fire burning.

The sun sets.

The sun rises on an empty Snaktooth. No grumpsues. No bugsnax. No life.

Only blood and ice.

[hikennosabo]

#tristampparty day 12, episode 0: high noon at july

LAST DAY OF @tristampparty ALREADY LET'S GOOOOOO

bang, bang!! nai liking movies is such a cute little detail, (it's in the manga too!!) i don't think it gets talked about enough. he went from thinking gunslinging heroes were cool to guns being a coward's weapon...

i still can't really fully wrap my head around the higher dimension... it contains the "core" of the plants and... it's where plants pull matter and energy from...? yeah i CANNOT fathom it actually

also like. how did humans even discover how plants worked and what they could do. assuming the lore is the same as in the manga (for what lore there is in the manga...) and humans created plants. who what when where why how. humans made plants and use plants every day yet they're such a black box... uuaaaaa (steam comes out of my ears from thinking too hard)

zazie's priority lies with the planet itself and whether or not worms will be able to continue to live and thrive on it, but i wish we got to see more of what the worms need to like. actually live and survive. they have a hivemind so they can't truly "die" (i guess unless every single worm is wiped out), but what do they need to live? we see that the giant worms eat humans, but what did they eat before humans crashed on the planet? tomas? other worms? do they photosynthesize? do they need to breathe? humans use worms for food and resources, but what exactly would knives have do to the planet to make it unlivable for the worms?

the song that vash sings is... the song knives plays on his piano. in the original/98, the song that was important to vash was rem's song. here, that... may or may not be the case...? vash says the song "just comes to him," but in this scene he's forgotten rem... then again, the song isn't what helps him remember her.

there was a theory post from a while ago that posited this song is the voice, or... frequency of the plants(?) which could very well be the case. vash and knives taking that frequency and singing or playing it in a way humans can hear... rem was onto something when she called them a bridge.

i wonder how much of this scene is an actual memory. maybe vash did sing that song, and nai heard it, and they played it on the piano together. and that's why knives continues to play it in the present day.

maybe i'll go eat some rocks.

this is reminding me of... in the manga when vash escaped from the ark and knives was begging him not to go. it's... yeah, pretty much the same. different scenario, but the same.

this sequence is so gorgeous... once again i'm asking how people ever thought this anime looked bad. lmao.

BUT MY MAIN QUESTION IS THIS!!! IS THIS REALLY REM SPEAKING TO VASH HERE? we know that in trimax, ghosts kind of exist, right? like tesla appearing to the twins, wolfwood appearing to livio... is this a similar case? what's happening on the "outside" is meryl's voice reaching through to vash, right? so is this more like, meryl's presence reminds vash of rem, so this is what vash wishes he could hear from her? like is this coming from his subconscious? or... is it really the spirit of rem somehow...

i'm overthinking it. i'm overthinking it.

i wonder what rem's ghost would say to knives.

i'm obsessed with the fight that comes after. OBSESSED. screencaps don't do it justice, i love the weightiness, the camerawork, the choreography... IT'S JUST FUN TO WATCH!!!!

THE BITE HAS BEEN POSTED SO MANY TIMES BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH IT'S SO FUNNY. outside of when they were kids, this is the most they've acted like siblings this whole show and i love it.

why are his boobs so big

and then there's the wings. the wings... and their context. manga readers know. they're a symbol of, hmm... not forgiveness, but... the first step to it, maybe. the love between them. flying to safety. supporting each other. being side-by-side. right?

they're using their wings to fight each other right now, so i'm sure the plan is to hit us with the wings again at the end for maximum emotional impact. the fact that they both have one wing each makes that extremely fucking obvious, i think. (remember in the manga vash sprouted 2 wings at first, which he couldn't sustain)

I JUST LOVE THIS SHOT. IT'S SO COOL.

oh. ohhhhhhh.

it's so interesting that the angel arm comes from vash combining(?) the cube with his gun... does this mean angel arms can't manifest normally? like, do you need the cube? or does the cube just make it easier? and what about knives, can he manifest his?? like this can't be the one and only appearance of the angel arm in tristamp, right, we're gonna need it again for the fifth moon and the ark escape, right??

(assuming those events will even happen in tristamp, but fifth moon AT LEAST is like. a constant in all timelines, i feel. like how time travel stories have "nodes" that can't be changed, right? but this isn't actually that kind of story. so who knows.)

...huuuuhhhh and i just noticed vash's prosthetic arm disappears when he manifests the angel arm. umm... i'm not entire sure what that means. is it because his gate was in his left arm...?

hey where'd she get those binoculars

crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch (i'm chewing on rocks)

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH

"since when have we been so different"... kills me in so many ways, but... in episode 3 vash says that knives hasn't changed. ("since that time," he says, which i assume is referring to the flashback scene in episode 9.) and knives says right back at you. but here, vash is basically saying, who are you. you're unrecognizable to me now. that's literally what he says in the dub. and again knives says right back at you. "you haven't changed." "i could say the same of you." "who are you?" "who are you?" they're brothers. they haven't changed. they've changed so much. they know each other better than anyone else. they don't recognize each other anymore. they love each other. did they ever really know each other?

crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch.

when i first watched tristamp the significance of this all was lost on me. i didn't know any context.

i didn't know that the original trigun started with july already destroyed. i didn't know vash's original bounty. i didn't catch the insurance department mention, or who eriks was, or chronica, or what it meant that the earth fleet was going to arrive, or this being numbered "episode 0"... nothing. all of it went completely over my head. oh i knew milly though. milly is forever.

but now i'm people who know. and i think orange's decision to adapt the story like this, to make it a prequel... is fucking ballsy and cool and i respect it.

that being said, i still don't understand what zazie is talking about... and how they know this. i don't understand all the scifi technobabble with chronica at the end either... what i'm assuming is that the earth forces are keeping tabs on the higher plane(??) and/or on gate readings(?) and... were alerted to what was going on that way? does "crossing over the wall of light" just mean they're using warp drive? why can't zazie talk normally.

uagh. what a fucking journey, man, and it hasn't even begun yet. glad i got to rewatch and go a little crazy. i think the fixation is beginning to fade a little bit (it's been long enough, this is how my brain cycles through things) but the brainrot never truly goes away. girl with plant twins icon gets emotional about the plant twins once again, more at 11.

ty to @revenantghost for organizing i had fun!! :'D

[needle-noggins]

Since you are oc pilled.. what can you tell us about Fanny? I'd love to hear all about them!

OH FANNY MY BELOVED FANNY?

So. Frances Paine (Fanny Paine. pain in my fuckin' ass) is my beloved Trigun OC for a ttrpg I'm in. You have have seen me tag things as #gunsmoked; that's the game. Fanny is a thomas rancher by trade. She grew up in Hopeland. Her best friend, a girl from the orphanage named Nova, went away when they were 12. Nova got shipped off to the Eye of Michael and sent Fanny letters about how bad it was until the letters just... stopped. Fast forward 20 years. Fanny left Hopeland, starting ranching Thomases in a little town called Gunpoint. Killed her husband (backstory) when she found out he was trafficking kids for the Eye of Michael. I wrote a little thing for it.

Within the span of game.... well, Fanny has done some truly buckwild shit. First thing she did in the game was punch the mayor's boytoy so bad that the local gang burned her house down. She helped rescue another character's brother (it's amnesiac Millions fucking Knives) and in the process killed the mayor. Who ended up also being the gang leader. It was Brilliant Dynamites Neon.

Fanny in that moment became the town mayor and the leader of the Bad Lads gang. Like, okay!!?!? OKAY! After grappling with the extremely sudden new responsibility, she discovered that the neighboring town was a front for the EOM. She and her best friend, another sad cowboy named Charlie, went to fuck up the EOM base and quickly discovered they were outgunned and outmanned. It did not go well. Also, Fanny ran into her childhood friend Nova in there. Nova didn't recognize her. Come to find out Nova didn't remember her. At all. Cue Fanny panic. Fanny gets another character, a plant scientist named Aggie, to give Nova the old childhood letters. Aggie, love her dearly, decided to do this in the most unhinged way and just scatter letters around Nova's office for her to get jump-scared by emotions while doing her job. This also did not go well. I mean, it worked, but... Nova went apeshit. Murder mode angry.

Some fuckshit happens, the Eye takes over Gunpoint. Fanny and Charlie shenanigans continue (RIP Knife's beautiful tank), and they try to take back the town but Fanny gets a little too obsessed with making Nova remember her and she's on a suicide mission about it, actually. Because Nova is freaking out that she can't remember this person and is trying to kill Fanny. Fanny almost gets shot with a punisher laser just as Charlie shoots Nova, saving her life but putting Nova in grave danger. We discover Nova is part cyborg, now in a robo-coma, and it takes about a week in-game to find the parts to fix her. Fanny spends this entire time just losing her goddamn mind about it. She may be a little bit gay for Nova. Maybe. Perhaps. But absolutely obsessive.

Nova gets fixed and comes to, bounces, Fanny has a mental crisis about it but realizes she can't fix her childhood friend. Still wants to kiss her, though. But the party has got bigger plans, like saving the world, first. And she still has responsibilities to be, ya know, the town mayor and Bad Lads leader.

Fanny is an absolute idiot, chaotic as hell, with the second-highest known body count in the party (Tesla did July; hard to top that. Knife is a new man so his past crimes don't count. Wolfwood has not told us shit about himself). She wears some Orville Peck-esque Neon Cowboy shit. Her thomas is named Cash, after Johnny Cash. Her gun was her momma's and it's an ornate little thing. She thinks half of being a cowboy is about the drip (she's right). She's a coward, she can't hurt people she cares about - even when they're threatening to kill her. She means well, she's actually not half-bad at being a leader because she's compassionate, but she's impulsive and has no self-confidence. She cannot catch a fucking break. She's hopelessly in love with her childhood best friend, she blames herself for everything that happened to Nova, she thinks she failed her by not following her to the Eye at the age of 12. She's a small town girl who is finally realizing that the world is so much bigger than her small town drama, and other people have some much bigger problems. She's can be condescending and controlling, but she's also nurturing and wants to help. She's insulting and doesn't know how to comfort others, but she's loyal to the death. She just wants to save everyone. She cannot take her own damn advice. She is extremely accidentally Vash-coded. When I play her she and her goofy-ass southern accent just take over and I don't know half the shit I say. I adore her and the absolute disaster she is. She compels me SO much.

[integra1127grimmreaper]

Trying Not to Love You (Joel Miller)

Joel Miller Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Warning: swearing

Summary: Pt2 of Could Sure Use Your Company. As Joel tries his best to avoid you, the more you seem to wiggle your way into his heart. Inspired by Nickelback's - Trying Not to Love You.

Joel Miller had never thought himself a coward, yet the fact that he was avoiding you like the plague proved otherwise. It wasn't that he was afraid of you per se, it was the feelings that had laid dormant within him for years, and that you had now awoken that scared the shit out of Joel. Just when Joel thought things were going on the right path for Ellie and him after Salt Lake, in blew you like a gust of wind; singing your way into his what he thought to be frozen heart.

After having managed to dodge you for almost two weeks, Joel knew his luck was bound to run out and it seemed that moment was today.

You call to me, and I fall at your feet

How could anyone ask for more? (How could anyone ask for more?) And our time apart, like knives in my heart How could anyone ask for more? (How could anyone ask for more?)

But if there's a pill to help me forget God knows I haven't found it yet But I'm dying to God, I'm trying to

* 

"Long time no see stranger..." you greet Joel while placing a drink down on the table he was seated at.

"Uh... just been busy" Joel manages to nervously splutter out in response.

"Must be real busy if this only your second time comin' here..." you remark.

"Oh, he's been here a couple times in the last week or so" Tommy offers up, and Joel shoots him a silent glare. 

You audibly scoff, placing both hands on your hips as you raise a brow at Joel, "so, ya been avoiding me then, by coming when it ain't my shift?"

Joel's eyes widen in panic as he strangles for a response, causing you to chuckle out at his reaction.

"Relax... I'm just messing with ya..."

Joel lets out a silent breath of relief, a faint smirk passing his lips at your infectious laughter.

"Anyway... I managed to get my hands on that bass guitar" you flash him eager grin, causing Tommy to softly snicker.

 "What's so funny?" you shoot a raised brow in his direction.

"Nothing, Ma'am" Tommy stammers.

"Thought as much" you smugly remark, turning back toward Joel then.

"So, I'll bring it around to yours tomorrow then you can get accustomed to it a bit before showing the kids how it works."

Joel stares at you opened mouth at your request or rather, your statement of command.

"Ok..." was all he finally manages to say.

 "Great!" you flash him a pleased grin, turning to head back to bar.

"Looks like someone's got ya wrapped around their finger..." Tommy amusingly drawls. Joel eyes narrow in silent warning at him.

"Just sayin'..." Tommy shrugs.

"Well, don't" Joel growls out. Turning his attention back to the bar, grumbling into his drink as he stares at you. "I'm fucked."

'Cause trying not to love you only goes so far

Trying not to need you is tearing me apart Can't see the silver lining from down here on the floor And I just keep on trying but I don't know what for 'Cause trying not to love you Only makes me love you more

Only makes me love you more... 

Part3

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

6. “Not to be dramatic, but I’m back from the dead. Hope y’all missed me.” With Virgil and Remus?

Title: On a Stormy Sea of Emotion

Word-Count: 1.7k

Summary:

"Not to be dramatic, but I'm back from the dead. Surprise!" Remus shoots a pair of finger guns, droplets of blood spraying out from his finger tips, "Hope y'all missed me."

The cloaked figure, the target of his finger guns, does not move. Their facemask, elegantly carved to mimic a raven, stares Remus down apathetically.

Remus laughs, clasping his hands behind his neck as he leans against a building that makes up the alleyway of their standoff, "C'mon, old man. I clawed myself out of the grave and this is how you treat your 'beloved son, departed from the earth too soon?'"

OR: a Superhero AU featuring Jason Todd coded-Remus.

Pairing: parental dukexity

Warnings: Superhero AU, Death mentions, blood mention, vomit mention, implied self harm, pstd flashback, morally grey characters, angst with ambiguous ending

Thank you for the prompt! This infected my brain all last night and today, hope you enjoy <3

-

Killing isn't that hard of an action, really. There is a million ways to kill someone. Guns, knives, poison or the way Remus liked it--using your bare hands. It wasn't always the most effective, but when your target knocks your knife out of your hands--well, then you gotta go for the jugular.

Remus hums as he picks up his knife, examining it. The blood dripping from its blade landed on his gloves, coating it with a metallic stench. One time as a kid, he received a paper cut and out of curiosity, he stuck his finger inside his mouth to taste his own blood.

It just had a copper tangy taste, not very appetizing. But well, he's never tried someone else's blood, what if it had a different taste? Would a greedy drug lord's blood taste too greasy? Tainted by their lack of remorse and regard for the suffering and lives destroyed in their avaricious pursuit of wealth?

He is almost halfway to enacting on such an impulse, when something shifts behind him. He turns around swiftly, his knife meeting nothing but air. But there is something there, or rather someone.

Remus cackles, his eyes darting around his surroundings. There, in the shadows of the nearby dumpster. He lowers his knife, putting it away for now.

His heart clangs loudly against his ribcage as his ears began to clamor with a loud ringing noise. This moment has always been inevitable since the second he decided to remain in this hellish city.

Remus is many things, but he is not a fool nor is he a coward. He is exhilarated this moment has come at last. Not terrified.

"Hello daddy dearest," He calls out, "it's been a while."

His words are enough to draw out the cloaked figure from out of the shadows.

"Not to be dramatic, but I'm back from the dead. Surprise!" Remus shoots a pair of finger guns, droplets of blood spraying out from his finger tips, "Hope y'all missed me."

The cloaked figure, the target of his finger guns, does not move. Their facemask, elegantly carved to mimic a raven, stares Remus down apathetically.

Remus laughs, clasping his hands behind his neck as he leans against a building that makes up the alleyway of their standoff, "C'mon, old man. I clawed myself out of the grave and this is how you treat your 'beloved son, departed from the earth too soon?'"

He already knows the truth; maybe there was a time this man had regarded him as a beloved son. Back when Remus had been a quiet, subdued child, perfectly manageable and obedient. But that time had long passed.

"I know I probably should've stayed dead but you know me! I'm not great at following rules."

Virgil Storm, or in this case, "The Raven" still doesn't do anything. It is a little unnerving, actually. Remus had expected there to be harsh words thrown his way, or perhaps even be pinned into a chokehold by this point in the interaction.

The Raven doesn't kill. During his first bout at the whole being alive thing, that been a contentious point between the two. Yet, would an abomination like Remus count as a living being?

"And," Remus says abruptly, shifting his weight against the wall, "you can't kill me. You can try, but like. It won't work. I jumped off like a twenty story building--went splat! Like a bug, it was really messy, but I didn't die. Um, you can take a DNA sample to prove it's me--"

"Remus?" The Raven speaks at last, his voice garbled and gravelly from the voice modifier of the mask.

"Yeah, it's me. I mean, we both know Prince Boring doesn't have the guts to pull off a prank like this," Remus smirks, "I'm sure he's happy that I haven't been around to play screamo when I have the aux or fill his backpack with severed Barbie doll heads."

The Raven's cloaked figure starts staggering towards him. Remus moves to stand upright once more, his body tensing. He can take the punch, it'll hurt but it won't leave any bruises. Remus has done enough experimenting to know he can't be physically harmed anymore. At least not permanently in any way that matters.

But rather a punch thrown his way, the Raven's arms seize hold of him. Not around his neck, but around his body, as the Raven leans around him, his cloak wrapping around Remus like a blanket. He is...hugging Remus? What the fuck?

A cold pricking sensation hits Remus, spreading out through every inch of his body. But he does not move to resist the Raven's embrace.

"I'm sorry," His adoptive father murmurs, "I made so many mistakes, I was afraid but I shouldn't have allowed my fear to control me in the way that I did--"

"Aren't you paranoid?" Remus whispers, "What if I'm not actually Remus? What if I'm just a shapeshifter pretending to be him? Or--or something else?"

"But I know you're you. Do you really think I wouldn't have investigated the assumed grave robbery of my son's corpse?" The Raven counters, "I already have a DNA sample I collected from your confrontation with the Dragon Witch analyzed."

Of course, of course Virgil already had a DNA sample. To any sane person, this might've been a horrifying realization. But for Remus, who spent ten years under the man's roof, this was perfectly normal behavior of a man obsessive enough to run around as a nonpowered cloaked vigilante.

"Remus, you have every reason to hate me or even Roman," The voice modifier pitched upwards in an odd high tone, "but would you'd be willing to come home for at least Janus's sake?"

Remus forgets how to breathe for a moment. There are many reasons why he hasn't sought out his family. He isn't sure if he is willing to accept Virgil's apology, much less risk seeing Roman's face again. But Janus is different. He has always understood Remus in the ways the others never did.

Despite Janus being Virgil's "man in the chair" as it were, he has never operated with the same morals. Remus will never forget the time some henchmen broke into their secret hideout while Virgil and Roman had been away on a mission. Janus had not hesitated to put lead directly into their foreheads.

"I'm afraid I don't indulge in the same mercy as your father," Janus had said, tidying up the mess they'd left behind, "It is my duty to preserve the safety of those I've been sworn to protect, even if comes at the lives of others."

The Raven is a vigilante that is shrouded in mystery. There are rumors that circulate the streets that the Raven is inhuman, a being that moves swiftly and strikes without warning. Some even dare to whisper about the unfortunate ends that some of the Raven's victims have met. What they don't know is that last bit is all of Janus's doing.

It's why Remus has never understood Virgil's hypocrisy. He'll turn a blind eye to Janus's actions but Remus, roughing up a thug a little too harshly? Oh no, no, no, that was the most heinous thing Remus could ever do.

(He wonders what his adoptive father thinks of his actions not only tonight, but the past few months. Isn't this everything his father feared and more? Putting aside the whole "not being dead" thing, isn't this enough to make him irredeemable in the Raven's eyes?)

"Janus?" Remus hesitates, "would he be willing to make his tea?"

"For you, I am sure he is willing to prepare a full spread of pastries along with a pot of tea. He has...missed you a lot, Remus."

Remus's stomach rumbles. He hasn't eaten in weeks--not since he realized his body technically doesn't need food to survive. But he does need Janus's pastries. Those pastries are never a want, but a necessity.

"Okay, I'll go." Remus says, craning his neck to meet the Raven's gaze, "but only because I'm hungry."

Somehow, this causes a snort from his adoptive father. The closest thing resembling a laugh that the Raven will ever do. When he is not the Raven, and is simply Virgil--sometimes the man will actually laugh. Even so, that snort is the closest thing to a laugh that Remus has heard from the man in close to a year before his death.

Remus's legs buckle beneath him, almost bringing the Raven down with him. But it's not from the shock of the old man laughing. No, it's more likely his body protesting his week long streak of not sleeping.

It seems even though he doesn't require as much sleep as before, he still requires a certain amount of it. Or at least, that is what makes the most sense in his hazy racing thoughts.

"I've got you," Virgil whispers, his words unfettered by the voice modifier, "you're safe now."

Arms gather underneath him, as a long Kevlar cloak is draped around his wiry figure. An unwanted memory drifts to the surface; a time where his kid self demanded to be carried home and the Raven obliged without complaint. Roman had trailed after them, begging to be carried as well.

Janus had taken one look at their return (Roman clinging to Virgil's back like a baby koala while Remus was cradled in his arms) and simply raised an eyebrow. But it was clear through his stifled breathing that he found the entire thing comical.

Remus doesn't want to fall unconscious. He'll deny it, protest it with a wide grin and a cackle, that death doesn't scare him. But he is terrified of pitch black darkness.

He fears a confined undetermined space that is meant to seal him away deep in the ground. He fears wood splinters underneath his fingernails as he chokes on dirt as he continues to dig upwards, driven by an urge to survive--to break out of the ground to blessed, fresh air. He fears staring at a gravestone and just laughing until he started vomiting clods of dirt.

What if Virgil is lying about Janus? What if he decides to bury Remus again, this time in a coffin made out of titanium or reinforced concrete--dooming him to a living death?

"No," He mumbles, attempting to grasp tightly to Virgil's cloak, "I don't--"

But his eyes flutter shut against his volition, and he can only hope that they truly did miss him enough; that the words carved on his gravestone were genuine and sincere.

Remus Seagrove

20XX-20XXX

Beloved Son, Brother, Friend

Dearly Missed and Departed from the Earth too Soon

[gravedigg]

"oh god i need it / i was wrong again / take me to the river / and make me clean again" crazy lyrics that make me DIZZY. is it cool to ask how they relate to angel?

Oh yeah absolutely!

The River by Manchester Orchestra is the second song in the war segment of Angel’s playlist, and it really symbolizes a big turning point in Angels perspective, from the military ideal he had in his head to the unpleasant truth of being stationed in a volatile desert, protecting oil investments for millionaires tucked safely in their mansions thousands of miles away.

When he joined the army he was just a kid in high school and he was fed this romanticized version of what the military stood for by the people around him, especially the army recruiters and jrotc instructors at his school.

And he was excited to be deployed, really felt like he was doing something good and important. But after a few weeks of scorching heat in the deserts, of watching the slow-building tension between the coalition and Iraq’s forces, he came to realize the reality of his situation, that he wasn’t really there to protect people, he was a pawn placed to protect certain peoples investments.

But his growing distaste for his role in this conflict was in a sort of dissonance with the relationships and brotherhood he was building with the men in his squad. They bitched and moaned about the heat and the food and having to hoof it through the sand, but they were still sold into the illusion of honor and duty that the army provides.

Angel felt, in a way, that he was betraying them by doubting all of it. But despite that, I think he found himself fantasizing about ways to get himself sent home, even though it was a cowards move. I think he knew in his heart that the army wasn’t right for him and that he would get out as soon as he could.

“Cheat, wanted a way out, crack my rib, wait to die”

“Me and my brothers, we have tongues sharp as knives. I found a way out, make a noise, close your eyes.”

“I'm gonna leave you the first chance I get”

And then, as the conflict progressed into 1991 and Angel started to see the devastation of the scud missile attacks and increasing assaults, as he saw the casualties of both troops and civilians, the cold horror of war really settled on him, and he found himself seeking absolution from a God that, as he would find, had no interest in answering his prayers.

“Oh God I need it / I was wrong again / Take me to the river / And make me clean again”

[autobot2001]

Proven Wrong

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Multiple slasher movies Genre: T Warning: Killing PairingL None Description: Freddy questions Jamie claiming she senses three intruders near the slasher house.

Day 1; @ailesswhumptober; "If you cry, will go easy on you." @fictober-event; "That was good work."

"Seriously?" Freddy says. "Miles of trails in these woods, and people are approaching the house?" "Yes," Jamie answers. "You know she can sense energy," Hannibal argues. "Oh, right, a freak with powers," Freddy mocks. Everyone else believes in Jamie's powers. They all go searching for the intruders before the intruders reach the house. They all split up, going down different paths. Jamie goes with Michael.

The three intruders walk down a path and ready a clearing. They see seven other paths. "Great, we're lost," one intruder says. They see Jamie running down a path. "At least we'll have fun," another intruder says. "Oh, going to assume I'm a helpless kid, are we?" Jamie says. "You do not know who you're dealing with." She whistles. The intruders are confused, but the slashers understand it as a signal that she has found them. The three intruders watch as eight slashers run down the path they're on, reaching the clearing. "Oh fuck, they kidnapped you?!" one intruder asks Michael stands behind Jamie. His form towering over her. He puts a hand on her shoulder. Everyone sees the three boys' confused looks. "Y-you're friends with them?!" "Fuck, Roy, we shouldn't have gone too deep into the woods." "Shut up, Rex!" Roy says. "If you cry, will go easy on you," Freddy mocks. "I'm not afraid!" Roy says. Rex and the third boy remain silent. "Fools," Freddy says. Freddy shows his clawed glove, and Jason shows his matchet. Billy, Stu, Norman, and Michael show their knives. Even with two unarmed slashers and Jamie is unarmed, two of the boys are afraid. "Crap, we're dead," the third intruder says. "Stop being a coward, Trey," Roy says. Roy charges toward Jamie. While he knows she can handle the intruder, Michael's protective instincts take over. He stabs Roy in the chest. Rex and Trey panic. "Who's next?" Billy smiles. The two boys run. "Screw a game of cat and mouse," Stu says. "Jamie."

Jamie runs after the two. She quickly catches up to the two boys. They stop running, believing she can't do anything without a weapon. Roy is about to grab her when she punches him in several places. The boy falls to the ground, unable to move. Before Trey can run, he's punched several times and falls to the ground. "What did you do?" Trey asks. "I can't move!" "I think a chase would have been fun, but at least we'll be dealing with them," Freddy comments. Freddy and Jason drag the boys behind some trees, but their screams can still be heard. A few minutes later, Freddy and Jason join the others. "That was good work, Jamie," Freddy praises. "We had a little fun tonight." They all go back to the house. Jamie finds it odd Freddy praised how she sensed the three boys were around.

[moviesstoriesandbooks]

What if Chay moves on healthily because no matter the reason , Kim's actions were shitty? Ok how about if Chay goes to therapy to deal with the "murder cat leaving bodies in the bar" incident , and talks and figures out his shit with a mafia approved therapist (I'm looking right at you , the person who wrote the ff) , and she is adamant about boundaries and respect , trust and basic needs in a relationship ??

And Chay , being the good boy that he is , listens. And understands. And actively works towards bettering his mind . He understands what Kim did is wrong on many levels and also that he should never settle for less , that he should never throw himself away , or be sad over other people and their horrible behaviour.

And he rediscovers his passion for music , goes to the very same college , and focuses on his life.

Gets an internship, moves to the US , where they specifically ask him to stay because they'd love to have him full term. And he builds his own life there , Vegas and Arm keep him off the radar , and he lives his life almost normal. No involvement with the mafia on a surface level.

Porsche though , still cursing himself for undermining Chay's safety during the coup , makes him take self defence lessons. Which quickly progress to advanced defensive tatics, much to Porsche's shocked surprise. Porchay has particular penchant for throwing knives . He's been trying with axes these days , more damage and incapacitating, Chay says on facetime to a proud but worried Porsche .

Kim doesn't know about any of these. Any information he craves about Porchay would have to come from Tankhun , Kinn or Porsche , and it's not like he's on speaking terms with any of them . He could visit Tankhun and fish for gossip , but even he seemed very tight lipped about Chay and his US college life .

Had Chay asked them all to keep it quiet? Kim did try to track the transactions and Chay's daily bodyguard tail info. Even that was so heavily underground that the only thing he could be sure about was that Chay was alive . Was Chay ordering it be this way??

Till one day , Kim realises that the ever present tightness in his chest , the heartache when he hears Chay's old studio recordings , videos they filmed together and even the major family cctv footage from before he left , is all Kim has left of his love. Because yes , Kim did love Chay , and he was too much of a coward to say it openly ,to even admit to himself and now he wants to say it out loud to the entire world , but there's no one to hear it.

Meanwhile Chay only ever thinks about Kim in anger and hate over what he did , and pity for Kim's supposed reasons , but also derision at the fear those reasons were trying to hide. Only ever thinks about him when his music is on his mind , but that music no longer making the bridge towards love .

And after two years when he returns , Chay is Porchay Pichaya Kittisawad , a man who has lived content with his friends and lovers , grown into his role as the minor family heir : with eyes that could melt hearts and hands that could stop them.

Kim doesn't even get notified when Chay returns , and the news is unceremoniously dumped on him five minutes before Porchay is walking into the ballroom clad in his pristine navy suit, fluid even in his stillness , joking with Porsche and Kinn , looking every part the heir , that Kim suddenly fell short. He used to be the mysterious heir , who everyone gravitated towards. Noone was looking at him anymore. While the years made him grumpy and unapproachable , the same seemed to have bettered Chay , like the finest of wine.

He even looked different. No more the stumbling shy blushing kid , he stood tall , taller than Porsche , and was making smalltalk with the snakes who Kim had threatened for trying to monopolise the profits last month , with the air of a prince meeting his long lost distant relatives.

The more Kim watched him , the more his confidence shrunk. Maybe he could make himself known after a few guests leave.

Porchay caught his eye at that exact moment , stopped and stared , then smiled at him and raised his glass.

Kim bowed his head slightly and turned away. He had lost track of whatever conversation he was pretending to be a part of.

He had to excuse himself to the bathroom to get his bearings and there , the gilded mirror pointed out the unwelcome red dusting his cheeks. His eyes looked overly bright and he looked like he'd run a mile.

Had Porchay forgotten everything?? The silent touches , the night spend cuddling , the days spent making music together , did they mean nothing to him anymore?? Maybe he doesn't want his brothers to notice anything. Of course he definitely hasn't told anyone anything because Kim would've known from Porsche , for sure, if he had.

Maybe Porchay wanted to keep things on the down low. Maybe they'll talk after the guests leave and he'd slip back into the old comfortable familiarity. Right now ,he was anything but familiar. And it didn't feel comfortable when Porchay looked at him so casually.

There was no longer that twinkle in his eyes for Kim , that used to be only reserved for him.

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

Porchay was lounging on the couch by the kitchen , drinking juice straight out of the carton , Porsche sitting with his feet on his lap and torso supported on Kinn's when Kim entered. Tankhun was taking the other couch all to himself while paying strict attention to whatever Porsche was saying. They looked every bit the picture of family , that Kim suddenly felt like *he* was the outsider.

That he was the one who was introduced into this less than 3 years ago , and he was the one who had went away for two of them .

When his entry caught everyone's attention , tankhun patted the seat next to him and offered him a smile , which Kim returned while he lowered himself by his brother's side. He could easily fall into the conversation that resumed, about music , business , gossip they'd missed , bodyguards who joined , vegas, pete and macau and even little Venice.

After they all left tired to their rooms , Kim wondered if Chay would pay him a visit that night. He couldn't sleep till sunrise , but Chay still didn't show up.

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Imagine: Derek sacrificing himself to save you, but it backfires and you are also taken.

“DEREK NO!!!”

Growing up in Beacon Hill, being Coach’s daughter, you saw things, seeing Scott McCall one day jumping down a flight of stairs as if it was nothing, to climbing on the roof at a school dance. And of course. The sacrifices. And watching an arrow go thru your dad’s chest.. you saw a fair bit of messed up bits. when you learned about werewolves, and all the supernatural elements in your sleepy town.. instead of being terrified. Derek remembers seeing your eyes just soaking in the information he could tell you weren’t terrified. You just accepted it. And truthfully the human sacrifices, the deaths, and murders in town. Scott goes form a clumsy boy to an athletic god. His getting supernatural powers was the reasoning he was now good. That made WAY more sense!

Over the years you helped Scott, and Stiles, and were a part of the pack. Then graduation happened.. and the pack separated and you became incredibly close to Derek. I mean. It was NO secret to Anyone in Beacon hill you had a massive crush on Derek. Everyone use to tease you and Derek use to be so Kind turning you down. But It’s Funny.. once you turned 20. (And it was at 20 because the coward Derek took off for a few years the moment you turned 18) but came back with a newborn baby and you spent the majority of your time if you weren’t working helping and shamelessly flirting with Derek. You always tell Malia you had to wear him down to finally give you a chance. Derek would Never confess that he thought you were amazing the moment he met you. Partly because you were 16 when you met Derek. Derek is many things. But he refused to “rock the cradle” with you… Until you were 20.

you woke up to a typical normal day. Getting Eli out of bed as you were brushing your hair, ‘Wake up lazy bones!”

Eli just grumbled at you not wanting to be up yet. You just replied you didn’t either but he’s father refused to have lazy bones in the house. So up you were in the morning. You never expected Derek to be a morning person. If you didn’t love him so much. That would have been a huge Red flag to anyone else.. once Eli was up and going you kissed Eli’s head telling him to have a good day, and you kissed Derek goodbye. Then off you went to work.

It was such a normal morning when the Shit hit the fans. You weren’t expecting it. You weren’t expecting to see an old enemy. Your home a battle ground. You Dashed over blocking an attack On Eli as you pushed him behind you. As you lungs grabbing the knives from the counter top to defend your kid and helps Derek. You were so worried about protecting Eli that you didn’t see the Oni to your left about to Plunge the sword into you. It would of if Derek didn’t Leap over taking the blow for you. You tripped on the ground. Turning to see Derek being guilted in black Smoke as you Scremed no. As you charged over to the Oni who was holding him as he just disappeared. Before you could do a thing. You were sliced. Right in the chest. By another one as you turned seeing Malia grabbing Eli as you cried closing your eyes. And disappeared.

“Y/N?” You lifted your head slowly to see Derek tired up as you sighed a big sigh of relief. You turned to see ELi was passed out beside you. “Can you tell if Eli’s alright?” Derek asked as you nodded your head, “yea he’s fine, I can see him breathing. Oh, thank god we’re not dead yet.”

Derek smiled weakly as he spoke, “Not yet.”

“oh, I thought I was going to have to kill you.”

Derek chuckled as you looked over at him, “Death won’t separate us. I’m not done with you yet.”

Derek smiled as he spoke, “bad time to mention I was going to propose tonight? Before all this?”

You chuckled nodding your head, “Really Bad timing Hale.”

Derek grinned softly as you spoke, ‘yes- but your going to ask me again. when we aren’t being held hostage.” 

[blancheludis]

Whumptober Day 3: fingerprints

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Characters: Zuko, Hakoda, Gaang Tags: Past Child Abuse, Hurt Zuko, Protective Hakoda, H/C

Summary:

"So, what?" Chief Hakoda asks, a mocking curl to his lips. "You had a change of heart? Just like that?"

- Hakoda does not trust Zuko. Meanwhile, Zuko takes one look at Hakoda's hands and wonders how much damage he could do with them.

They both quickly learn they are wrong, but not without some hiccups along the way.

Begging will not help. Apologies have not ever made anything better. The ground is hot where it digs into Zuko's knees, where it presses against his forehead, as he prostrates himself before his father.

Why does it have to be Father? He never meant to - but he did, did he? What does he know about military strategy and troop movements? Perhaps the 41st division is made up of the worst soldiers the Fire Nation has to offer. Perhaps it is made up of people like Zuko, and the best they can do for their country is to die.

"Stop being a coward and fight," the Fire Lord says, deceptively gentle.

Zuko knows that, if he were to look up, there would be steel in his father's eyes.

"I surrender," Zuko says, as loudly as he can without shouting. They have to hear him. They have to listen. They have to -

Silence, as the Fire Lord stands before him, and Zuko cannot bear being blind to it any longer. He sits up, continues his endless string of apologies - but stops when he sees his father's face. Goosebumps raise on his arms, the skin burning hot and cold in the distinct shape of fingerprints.

No mercy will be had here, Zuko knows with sudden, painful clarity. Whether he fights or not, this was one failure too many. His father looks at him like he does so often during training, wondering not whether he should punish Zuko, but simply how. Where.

This sight of his father's dispassionate face as he reaches out to teach Zuko the meaning of suffering is burned into his memory just like the handprint into the left side of his face.

---

It is probably a stupid thing to do, to categorize threats depending on the size of their hands. Mai has small, delicate hands but is perfectly deadly with her knives. The Avatar is a child and yet supposedly the most powerful bender in the world. Toph is the best earthbender and has crushed people twice her size.

Yet, one look at Chief Hakoda's hands is enough for Zuko to make himself rare. It is polite to let them have a proper reunion on their own and they did just escape a high-security prison. Surely, nobody will mind if he sneaks away, just until his heart has settled and he can look at the Chief without danger of fainting. Surely - who is he trying to kid here? Hakoda is the Chief of an enemy tribe, whose children Zuko hurt numerous times. There is no hiding from this. But, like a coward, he tries.

---

It works for all of a day. He spends his morning meditation in his room and returns there right after training with Aang. It does not have a lock and it is hardly a secret where he could be. Yet, he almost has a heart attack when Chief Hakoda appears in his door and - does not move, blocking the only exit with his broad shoulders. His cold, blue eyes zero in on Zuko, cataloguing every flaw, every way he does not measure up.

Heat gathers in Zuko's palms, but he ruthlessly pushes it down. The last thing he needs is to seem aggressive, dangerous. The group of children might have accepted him into their midst, but Zuko knows that, as a warrior, a leader, Chief Hakoda should rectify that mistake. The Avatar trusts too quickly, and while that worked out in Zuko's favour, their entire world is at stake here.

By the time the Chief moves into the room, Zuko is not sure his body knows how to breathe anymore.

He settles down in front of Zuko within easy grabbing distance, still blocking the door.

"So," Chief Hakoda says, low and knowing, like he has already mapped out everything that makes up Zuko. "You're Prince Zuko."

His former title stings in his ears, brings with it the smell of smoke and the merciless cackling of lighting.

"Yes, sir." Zuko marvels at how calm his voice is, despite how coiled up he is inside, tense and ready to fall apart. He bows his head, briefly. "Well, I was."

Chief Hakoda hums and never once takes his eyes off Zuko. "I heard you attacked our village and then chased my children all across the world."

His hands are in broad view, lightly touching in front of him, and Zuko cannot look away from them. Fine, criss-crossing scars are layered over the knuckles. The small finger on the right hand was clearly broken at some point and healed slightly crooked but moves just as fluidly as the rest. Clearly-defined muscles go all the way up to the shoulder, just waiting to be called into action.

The Chief's hands might not be able to call forth fire, but they can break Zuko just as easily.

"I was wrong." Whatever calm Zuko had earlier is getting almost impossible to hold onto as he tracks every minute movement the Chief does.

Another hum, fingers briefly curling into fists. "My children tell me you've changed."

Perhaps it would be better to just throw himself down to the ground, see whether the Water Tribe Chief deals more graciously with surrender than the Fire Lord. Zuko's limbs are frozen in place, though, as the scars along his arms itch in warning.

"I grew up in the Fire Nation with Fire Nation teachings," he says, wondering when, exactly, explanations become excuses. "I've seen a lot more since then."

Starvation and desperation, families who lost all their children to a senseless war, orphans wandering without anything or anybody to their name, hate that spans the entire world and that has nothing to do with just causes and everything with grief.

"So, what?" Chief Hakoda asks, a mocking curl to his lips. "You had a change of heart? Just like that?"

Just, he says, as if the past three years could be summed up in one word. Three years filled with both loyalty and betrayal, death and realizations. Three years filled with a different kind of pain than Zuko is used to. All he wanted to do was go home. It just took him a while to realize that the home he built in his head was not real. Never would be, either.

Life has not yet beaten all defiance out of him, so he raises his chin and says, "Yes."

He is glad his hands are hidden behind his back so the Chief will not see them shaking. It is the truth, however, and he will not back down from that.

The Avatar still needs a firebending teacher, but he is very much aware that he is not safe. If the Chief takes offence to his presence, his children will not stop him. And why should they oppose their father, their Chief? Nobody in their right mind would.

"I guess we'll see."

---

That evening, Zuko thinks about skipping dinner. He could keep hiding away in his room and no one would probably even notice he was missing, caught up in their reunion. It has already been made clear, though, that his room is not safe. Also, Katara will be annoyed at having to keep the fires going by herself, and Toph, strangely, seems to like her nightly cup of tea.

He gets up and smooths out his clothes as if anybody here cares about wrinkles and, for the first time in a while, falls back into the calming breathing pattern Uncle taught him to use before family dinners at home.

Toph frowns at him as he comes closer, but other than that, everything seems normal. Without a word, he takes over the fires and begins to prepare tea, grounding himself in the ritual of it.

Concentrating on his breathing, Zuko's hands barely shake when he hands a cup to the Chief.

"I didn't think they taught royalty to serve tea."

Zuko inhales, holds, exhales. That is surely meant as an insult, but he can hardly tell the Chief that his time in Ba Sing Se is actually one of his fonder memories. That is not what this is about. He guesses being a tea server should be demeaning for a former prince, but he has had to do much worse things during his banishment.

Thankfully, Sokka chimes in with a story about Ba Sing Se that leaves Zuko with nothing to do but to nod occasionally - and thankfully leaves out his betrayal. That would certainly not go over well.

When he sits back down, Toph nudges him in her usual, bone-jarring way. "You okay, Sparky? Your heart rate is all over the place."

Her voice is too loud and, of course, it catches the Chief's attention, but he says nothing, so Zuko thinks it is safe to look away from him for now.

"I'm fine," he says, despite knowing Toph will spot the lie. It is nothing life-threatening, though. Not yet, at least, not until the Chief has made up his mind.

---

The Chief wants to observe training. It makes sense for a military leader to want to see how the Avatar, their greatest hope, comes along, but Zuko's stomach is doing summersaults at the very thought of having him there, watching, judging.

It is a good thing, then, that Aang must feel the pressure, too, and, for once, trains with due discipline. No complaining, no cheating on the breathing exercises, no bowing out on the fire squats. They move through the katas in synchrony and when they summon fire it is the colourful wonder Zuko has come to love. It is going better than he could have ever hoped. Of course, it could not last.

"What is that on your arms, Prince Zuko?" Hakoda asks halfway through one of the advanced sets of katas.

Zuko promptly loses his balance and does an unflattering amount of flailing to avoid falling to the ground. For a moment, he stares non-plussed at the Chief, then down at his arms. They are bare. He must have pushed up his sleeves sometime during training. Which he never thought twice about before because the group never seemed to notice anything amiss, and at home everybody knew he is a subpar firebender and therefore needed stricter encouragement to do better.

"Nothing," Zuko replies, then immediately bites his tongue. A flippant response like that would have earned him at least another few sets of burns at home. He thinks about adding a sir, but at this point it would surely make things even more disrespectful. Instead, he offers, "They're old. Back from when I was training in the palace."

Now Aang's curiosity is piqued and he bounds over, staring at Zuko's arms with his usual lack of care for personal space. "They look like fingerprints."

Zuko closes his eyes and counts to ten. Or attempts to. He barely makes it to four when the Chief speaks up.

"Should you be teaching the Avatar when you have had so many - accidents?"

"I didn't do them to myself," Zuko snaps, quickly realizing that holding his temper is a lost cause.

Instead, he concentrates on not exhaling smoke, or any other of the dozens of signs that would only prove Hakoda's assessment right. The audacity rankles him, however. What kind of firebenders have they met if they think he would burn himself with his own fire. He might not be good, but he is not that bad either. Too late, he notices that his admission only made things worse.

Next to him, Aang gasps. "Who did them, then?"

Looking at a wide-eyed kid, younger than he was when he was banished, makes Zuko's anger disappear quicker than one of Katara's terrible ice water splashes could have.

"I told you we would do training differently," he reassures in as soft a voice as he is capable of. "Nobody will burn you."

He cannot promise that once they leave the temple, of course, once they enter the palace. The Fire Lord has already proven that he has no reservations to burn children. Zuko will do his best to prepare Aang as much as possible, and when the time comes, he will stand at his side, upright, and do his part.

"But someone burned you, Prince?" the Chief asks, his voice deceptively calm. His eyes, though, are pure ice, piercing into Zuko, not giving an inch.

A terribly selfish part of Zuko's brain wishes they had never found Hakoda in the Boiling Rock.

"Some people need more encouragement to improve than others." He closes his heart against his father's voice invading his mind. Suffering will be your teacher. It worked, though. No matter his feelings about his childhood or training, Zuko did learn.

Something flickers over the Chief's face that Zuko cannot read but surely means nothing good for him.

"Who?" he asks, short and cold. "Who would dare to burn the Crown Prince?"

Who, indeed, could get away with everything he wants, every whim and every urge to be cruel? Zuko smiles blandly.

"I wasn't the Crown Prince when I began training." And later, well, everybody knew the Fire Lord favoured Azula. "Now, do you have any other questions or can we continue?"

Of course, there is more. Of course, he is not allowed to get a break. Of course, it is all right to spread his tapestry of trauma out for everyone to see. Yet, the Chief's next question still hits him like a punch in the gut. Or, well, like a flaming hand to the head.

"How did you get the burn on your face?"

Blood rushes in Zuko's ears and the phantom pain of searing heat creeps across his scarred skin. Distantly, he hears himself say, "The Avatar won't come to harm here." He is proud of himself to make it a promise and not a plea for mercy.

As the world spins, he thinks he sees Sokka jump between himself and the Chief, talking a mile a minute, none of which Zuko can hear over the roaring, and then Toph is in front of him and he lets her lead him away, away from the chaos behind him if not from the maelstrom inside him. There is no escaping that.

---

He comes back to himself with his head between his knees, the sun shining warm and welcoming on his back. Nothing burns. The pain is nothing but a distant memory. Toph is a welcome weight against his side and he barely catches the tail end of a story about some dignitaries who once visited her parents. He is sure there is some joke or moral to the story, but he simply lets her voice wash over him until he feels like he can breathe again without the smell of burning flesh in his nose.

"You back with me?" Toph asks, uncharacteristically quiet. She is knocking on the ground in a slow, evenly paced rhythm, just right to breathe along with.

"Thank you," he croaks, his throat dry and aching as if he screamed himself hoarse. Agni, he hopes he has not screamed. He can only take so much shame in one day.

Firmly settled back in the present, he notices how tense she is, ready to jump up and - do something.

"How can he just ask that?" she blurts out, suddenly, sounding at once younger and angrier than he has ever heard her.

Ah, Zuko thinks. The scar, his face. Now that he is back to himself, he is embarrassed at having a panic attack over that of all things. It is not like it is a secret. Half of the Fire Nation nobility was present when it happened. Zuko's nightmares have nothing to do with who knows about it.

"I mean, it's pretty hard to miss."

Toph hits him but without any real force. "Guess what, for me it's pretty hard to miss that you're terrified of Hakoda and I'm not going around asking you about it."

Great, why does the most perceptive person in their group also has to be the one who does not believe in mincing her words?

"You kind of just did," Zuko points out awkwardly.

She punches him again, and this time it does smart. Then, she turns serious, as much as he has ever seen her.  "Do I need to bury him?"

All Zuko can do is stare at her. It takes him long moments to understand what she means. Who she means.

"What? Toph, no." He reaches out to grab her arm, preferring to be prepared if she decides to run off. "He's Sokka and Katara's father."

"And you're afraid of him," she says as if that is somehow important. As if Zuko being not afraid is somehow a state that is both achievable and desirable. "Did he do something?"

Zuko breathes. Inhale for eight. Exhale for eight. He realizes quickly that it will not work.

"No," he says and means it, knows she can feel his sincerity. "He just -" Zuko swallows. With his voice barely above a whisper, he admits, "His hands are so big."

Toph is quiet for a long moment, then she takes his hand with hers, small and calloused, able to crush a grown man with little more than a flick of her fingers. Objectively, he knows what she is trying to show him, but all he can picture is Hakoda reaching for him, his arms, his face. He would have lost more if -

"Wait," Zuko says, his heart coming to a sudden standstill. "Did I hear Sokka yelling at the Chief?"

Toph looks taken aback at the sudden change of topic. "Yes, but -"

That is all the confirmation he needs. Zuko jumps up and runs back to the training area, heedless of the danger he wanted nothing more than to escape only minutes before. He is glad Toph got him out, of course, but not to let someone else take the fall for him, not at the expense of Sokka.

They are facing off, Sokka and Hakoda, in plain sight of everybody else. It is an eerily familiar sight. Of course, the broken expanse of the temple has nothing on the vast chambers of the Fire Nation palace, and their ragtag team is not the cheering mass of nobles gathered to see him burn. But the gist of it is the same. Zuko knows what a sentencing looks like.

Pushing forwards, Zuko skids to a halt between Sokka and Chief Hakoda, his arms held out in a placating gesture he knows will not be heard. His knees threaten to buckle, but he forces them to hold on a little longer, until Sokka is safely out of the way.

"Don't," he yells and immediately curses himself for his stupidity. Apologies might not make things better, but issuing orders will definitely make it worse. "Sokka's not at fault here. He's - good and we need him. I wronged you and I apologize for that. You can punish me, but I won't let you hurt him."

Silence falls, only punctuated by Zuko's heavy breathing. He keeps his head down, torn between wanting to show respect - too little, too late - and the desperate need to see the first blow coming. But it is not like he is going to dodge it, either way. It will hurt and he will take it, whether he knows when it is coming or not.

"Nobody will be punished," Katara cuts in, her voice shrill in a way he has never heard it. She steps up next to him, too close, and Zuko shifts automatically to put her behind him, too.

Breathless, he says, "I won't let you hurt her, either."

He does look up now and sees the horror on Chief Hakoda's face without comprehending it. He sees Aang wide-eyed and fearful but steady in an airbending stance as if ready to act if he needs to.

Slowly, very intentionally showing his intent in a way that only Uncle has ever done for Zuko, Chief Hakoda turns up his wrists and raises his arms, both a surrender and a promise.

"I won't hurt you, Prince Zuko. And I would never hurt my children. It does not matter what they do, the most important thing in my life is to keep them safe. I am sorry someone made you think otherwise." With that, he takes a step back, still with those same measured, glacially slow movements.

Zuko exhales. The fingertip-shaped scars on his arms burn, the left side of his face is in agony. He smells burnt flesh. He hears the crowd cheering. Yet, all of that is just a figment of his shame.

---

From that moment on, he is never alone. Aang wakes with him at sunrise to meditate with him without complaint. Sokka accompanies him to find firewood or bullies him into sparring sessions. Katara hovers when he minds the fires. Even Suki has taken to standing guard. And always, always, Toph is at his side the very moment his heart does so much as stumble. 

At first, he wants to tell them off, ask them whether they think he is weak. But then he thanks Sokka for handing him their bag of tea leaves and he replies with, "That's what friends are for," with the kind of intent focus that even Zuko understands means they are talking about more than tea.

And he is grateful, really, it is just that he has little experience with friendship. Every day now, he becomes more certain, though, that he wants to change that.

---

Chief Hakoda approaches Zuko in the middle of the day when most of the group is hanging around somewhere close. He makes sure Zuko sees him coming and sits down more than an arm's length away.

"Prince Zuko," he says, his voice open and careful, like one might speak to freshly hatched turtle-ducks to avoid spooking them. "I want to apologize."

And, because he is Zuko, he does his damnedest to make things worse by disrespecting the Chief again. "I'm not a Prince anymore."

Hakoda's lips twitch, but his expression stays otherwise calm. "Well, I don't feel like much of a Chief at the moment, either, considering I made someone under my care terrified of me."

It takes long, breathless seconds for the words to register in Zuko's brain. "I'm - that's not -" He trails off, utterly lost. Terror is familiar. Care is not. 

"I will not pretend to be sorry for being cautious, since you are a prince of the Fire Nation and, while I trust my children, it is my job to be careful." Few people ever explain their reasoning to Zuko when it is much easier to point out his faults. Yet, Hakoda looks at him, never wavering, never looking like what he is doing is unusual. "But I do apologize for ignoring that you are a child and deserving of care and consideration like everybody else in this camp."

This raises Zuko's indignation much quicker than the questionable matter of his royal status. "I'm not a child." 

Finally, some displeasure shows on the Chief's face. He still does not move. "I realize your life must be lacking in adults you can trust, but I swear to you, I will never consciously harm you, but will do my best to protect you as I will my own children."

Zuko wants to point out he has Uncle, but he probably does not, anymore, and perhaps it is time to stop disrespecting the Chief so blatantly, even if he has barely shown a sign that he even noticed. "I - I don't -" he begins and cuts himself off. He has absolutely no idea what is expected of him.

"That's all right, Zuko," the Chief says, dropping the title and instead saying Zuko's name with such warmth that Zuko is getting dizzy. "This is my promise to give. You don't need to do anything. I just hope that, in time, you will believe me." With that, he bows his head and gets up, going back to help Katara prepare lunch as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Zuko keeps sitting where he is, staring off into nothing, clasping his hands around his knees so he will not give into the urge to scratch at the scars on his arms.

"I'm proud of you, dad," Sokka calls, loud and cheerful, not a trace of fear in his voice.

"What a coincidence," Hakoda replies, a low, non-threatening rumble. "I'm proud of you, too, son. In fact, I'm proud of all of you." He looks at them, all of them, in turn, including Zuko.

And, yes, that is too much. With as much dignity as he can muster, Zuko gets to his feet, stammers something about training, and flees. For once, though, the warmth in his chest has nothing to do with shame or with fear. Maybe, he thinks, this is what it feels like to belong.