#i am tagging him because of the developing

[emiel-surreal]

i don't feel like putting this in tags for formatting and headache reasons, sorry in advance

as an autistic person i've always found it difficult to understand the concept of forgiveness, and i've asked people to explain it to me but never gotten an answer? most people seem to take it for granted that they know what forgiveness is, but i still don't know how it functions or what it feels like. i don't know if i've forgiven people or if i'm practicing forgiveness in my own relationships or with myself. this is in part because there are seemingly conflicting narratives that it is possible to be things like graceful and accepting of a person despite not "forgiving" them for their actions, and that's when i start to not understand the purpose or function of forgiveness. i might just be rambling, sorry.

i very much believe in the capacity for any person to improve or change, to become a person whose values are changed in such a way to not repeat past actions and to inspire new actions that would not have happened with past values. i guess my understanding of forgiveness gets muddy here. i can accept and embrace a person while not endorsing their past actions when i believe they have demonstrated meaningful and sustainable development. i guess forgiveness for me is that. accepting them without endorsing something that i believe to be now detached and not representative of them.

i think i'm just confused from how other people use the word. i don't think everyone uses it the same way. i've heard things like "i don't forgive him for that, but i still love him and i have no reason to go no contact". am i missing something when i think this sentiment somehow contradicts a lack of forgiveness? idkidk

the concept and idea of “you can always start trying to be a better person” is extremely important to me both in media and irl and i continue to be deeply deeply disturbed by the trend on this site pushing that these ideas in media are bad writing or even morally reprehensible

because theyd rather someone stay terrible or just straight up die than become a better person 

from a compassionate point of view it’s deeply distressing and from a pragmatic point of view it’s outright frustrating

it’s fucked up. 

[zae-heeyyy]

Assuage

Summary: Arthur helps you relax. Pairing: Arthur Morgan X Female!Reader Word Count: 1,269 Tags: developing relationship, very light angst, fluff, Clemens Point, high honor

an: This was an anon request. Not a lot going on here. Simple and sweet. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Assuage: to lessen the intensity of (something that pains or distresses) 

Sloshing buckets of water weighed a thousand pounds in your clammy grip as scorching heat spread like a brush fire from your stomach. This pain had been gnawing at you for weeks, and no doctor could give you a precise diagnosis or cure. Rest, eat frequently, avoid alcohol.

They didn’t know the lifestyle of a woman in the Van Der Linde Gang.

Obedience had never come easy, so last night, when Arthur offered you a swig of whiskey, his crooked smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. The golden liquid stung like hellfire going down. Still, a combination of its intoxicating effects and a new closeness to the cowboy soothed the deep-seated ache in your belly. As moonlight glimmered above the lake, you wiggled your toes in the sand and failed to stifle a yawn.

“Don’t let me keep ya’, Miss.”

“It’s no trouble, Arthur.”

When you shivered, part from the lake breeze and part from discomfort, he opened his arm like a drawbridge, inviting you into the safety of his castle. You scooted in, stiff, but when his hand found your stomach, heavy and warm like a compress, the tension drained like water bled from a moat. You didn’t move for the rest of the night, forged against his iron-like muscle.

Now, the next morning, regret was setting in. The whiskey irritated whatever beast had made its home inside of you, its claws burrowing deep. Trying to stay steady on your feet, you squeezed your eyes shut and froze. But the cramps expanded outward, turning all your muscles into stone. Before you could set them down, the buckets slipped from your fingers and crashed to the ground in a piercing clatter.

Catching the edge of a nearby table, you sucked in air through your nose, puffed out through your mouth, and futilely willed yourself invisible. But your prayers fell on deaf ears because, in another second, a pair of familiar hands sank into the padding of your hips. 

“Hey, you alright?”

“M’fine, just spilled some water.”

As you reached for the fallen buckets, the ground came at you fast. Before you ate the dirt, Arthur hauled you backward into his unmoving brick frame.

“Y’shoar as hell don’t look fine.” 

“I am, really.”

You tried to meet his unbelieving gaze earnestly, but the color drained from you as bile burned at the back of your throat. Arthur didn’t wait for another fabricated explanation before he dragged you away to the shade of his tent, grumbling. 

“Can’t be pushing yerself so hard, woman. You crazy?”

His palms clasped firmly onto your shoulders, silently commanding you to stay put as he stepped away. You sank into the fluffy cloud that was his pillow, but it brought you little comfort as you drifted aimlessly through the storm of your pain. 

His voice rumbled from the sky of the phantasmagoria you were lost in, and your mind followed the sound back to the waking world.

“You still alive?” 

You whimpered in acknowledgment, and your eyes fluttered open to find him watching you.

“There she is.” His lips formed into a soft curve as he caressed your forehead with his knuckles. “You jus’ relax. I’m gonna go talk to Dutch and keep Miss Grimshaw off your heels. Don’t go anywhere, now.” 

Your mouth parted as you tried to sit up, but he raised a brow and raised a finger, shushing you. Defeated, you swallowed and sank back down, staring up at the canvas of the tent and folding your hands over the source of your affliction. 

Time dawdled on when you were sitting still. If only some mad scientist could invent a machine that took pictures of your insides, you could finally figure out what was wrong with you and fix it. Having folks, especially Arthur, fuss over you sat almost as heavy as the pain. Yeah, you’d rest, you told yourself—just until Arthur returned. Then you’d get back to it.

And when he ducked back into the tent, you tried to swing your legs over the cot, but he caught your ankle and settled it into his lap as he sank at the foot of the bed. With a sharp glance, he tugged at the shoestring of your boot.

“Spoke to Dutch. You’re on bedrest for the next few days.” 

“But—”

With a swift pull, he removed the boot and dropped it to the ground.

“Don’t wanna hear it.”

A silent joust between your leg and Arthur’s grip ensued, and you lost quickly, pouting in your defeat. 

“Arthur, I can’t just lay here. I have to—”

“Quit yer yappin,’ and let somebody help you for a change.” 

Your other boot hit the ground, and he tucked your feet back together with assertive force, glaring at you. 

“Whatever happened to a woman listening to her man?”

Your heart burst against your ribs, and oxygen fled from your brain, leaving you dizzy and wordless.

“Mmm,” he hummed in amusement. “That finally shut you up? Thought I was gonna have t’climb up there.”

When you still didn’t say anything, only gawked at him, his hand shot to the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“M’sorry, I just thought that we—the past few weeks—I should’ve—”

Even though the contraction of your muscles made the sore spot in your abdomen ache evermore, you managed to choke out a laugh.   “You’re a fool, Arthur Morgan, a sweet, sweet fool.”

As his smile returned, his shoulders relaxed, and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“I can get behind the fool part, but I don’t know too much about bein’ sweet.”

You wanted to laugh again, but your amusement was short-lived. You hugged your arms around your midsection, frown etched deep.

“You gone to a doctor ’bout that, yet?”

Arthur had noticed, after all, despite your best efforts to hide it from him, and you hated it— hated being another burden for him to carry on his shoulders with the rest of the world. And like he was reading your mind, he rubbed your leg reassuringly. 

“You ain’t easy t’ignore. Not t’me.”

“Guess I ain’t doing a good job of hiding it.”

He shook his head and put his hand over yours on your belly.

“Don’t gotta hide anything from me, darlin. Ain’t got much, and I ain’t no doctor, but whatever you need, jus’ say the word.”

But that was just the thing—you didn’t want to say it—that you wanted to take him up on his offer to climb in bed with you.  But the fear of missing the opportunity overpowered your fear of rejection. 

“Stay, please? Just for a little while.”

Your heart plummeted when his hand left yours, but you watched as he took off his boots and joined you in the cot. He spooned you, both of you turning on your side, him rubbing soothing circles on your center.

“That help?” 

Truthfully, it didn’t make the hurt go away, but you nodded anyway because another feeling, solace, was slowly forming beside it. You shifted to face him, using your arm to support your head.

“What?” 

“Your woman,” you smiled, and he brushed your hair out of your face.

“If that’s alright wi’you, miss.”

Your eyes trailed down to his lips, and you closed the gap between you. He cupped your cheek as your lips moved in sync with each other. Sharp pain nagged at your insides, but his presence alone brought a semblance of peace to your tumultuous mind. You supposed you could spend the rest of the day like this, wrapped up in the cowboy. Dutch’s orders didn’t sound so terrible, after all.

[cuntyhunty22]

Hope again.

Paring : Jackson!oldman!joel x reader

Tags : fluff. Mention of death. Mention of K!ll!ng people. Smut. cum licking. Fingering. (This one is more chill)

Minors don't interact

Description : reader has traveled to Jackson, she has been taken in after a tragedy has happened. Reader is getting adjusted making friendships. Slight enemy to lovers. Age gap.

(No abby (let my man live and be happy) (family is around, just happy)

Idk just a little something I daydreamed about. My old man Joel deserves love.

As always there is a "soundtrack" below of songs that gave me inspiration.

~feedback is ALWAYS appreciated ~

•

The initial outbreak happened over 20 years ago... you were about 10 then.. fast forward to now.. you are 30. You have traveled all over looking for safe refuge. Your mom was the first to go.. then before you reached Jackson right outside the gate your sister died in your arms. You fought so hard to keep her alive. You were definitely the fighter out of the two of you. Better with weapons, better with Fighting people off. The savage of the two. But it was she who was the brains , the oil that made the machine work. You made this journey because you heard rumors of a safe haven out here. You were able by some will of the universe to find someone you knew before the outbreak. She found you while she was on patrol. Raiders took over your camp injuring your sister to where she eventually passed from her wounds. That was a week ago....

•

You've been staying in an extra room at your friends home, Maria mentioned your home would be ready this week. She was more than happy to take you in ,as your friend is apart of the council here in Jackson. Maria was waiting on the contractor and his team to finish one thing in the home you'd be staying in. Jackson has been good to you so far, aside from mourning the passing of your sister. You went for a walk around town just getting comfortable. You've started talking to others here hoping to develop some relationships. The apocalypse can get pretty lonely. The others your age seem pretty chill, so far Dina and Ellie have been your favorite. They were about your sisters age. So maybe that's why. Maria is incredible all about her buisness, and her family. But you still in a way feel like an outsider.. no family.. no partner.. just you.

•

"Hey I am headed to getting food with some of the others would you like to join.!?" Dina asked you. "Hey Dina! Um actually yes I would love that!" She gives you a smile. "Perfect I'm meeting up with them down at the hall I was just heading there now." The hall is probably 5 or so minutes away from where you were. "So what brought you here.?"

"Well my sister and I have been traveling, hopping from place to place. Camps, Qzs, But no where ever felt like home. After our mom passed we never stayed in one place and finally we were just ready to settle down. Have a chance at some type of normalcy. My friend who brought me in, I ran into her while she was on patrol.. she seen the raiders attacking us.. which I know you heard about. What happened and what not which brought the passing of my sister."

Dina looked at you with caring eyes. "I know I'm sorry about her."

"It's okay.. that's life I guess. People die everyday."

"Yeah but it doesn't make it any better. So just you then?"

"Just me."

Once you reached the dining hall it's full. Some people you recognized others you did not.

"Hey guys, I brought someone along. Figured she could use the company.!" Dina introduces you to the others that you haven't met yet. You chatted a bit with everyone, it was nice.. refreshing almost.

You finished up and were about to head home when you seen him. Broad shoulders, curly hair, grey through out it, big brown eyes covered by glasses.. handsome old man.. intimidating but at the same time intriguing. Dina and Ellie notice you staring.

"That's Joel." Ellie says. "He's my-"

"Parental advisor" Dina chimes in.

"Oh-.. wow.. so he's like your dad.?" You felt kinda guilty for even finding him attractive now..

"I guess so. He's just Joel." Ellie shrugs.

"Ah- okay..." you trail off hoping it wasn't as obvious as you felt you checking him out. (Hey it's the apocalypse you don't see many hot men.) "well. (You laugh slightly.) I'm gonna go..."

You go to walk away and as you do you end up running right into Joel. His body like a brick wall.. (But the heat of a man's body made you feel a way. )

"Jesus kid you gon pay attention." Joel scoffs. "Who are you? Have I met you.?"

Joel looks you up and down.

You stutter. ( unusual for you.)

"Hi yeah sorry. No we haven't met."

"Didn't think so.. what you another one we let it.. another house I gotta fix that Maria is on my ass about."

"Jesus well when you put it like that.. Joel is it?" You scoff. Because as handsome as he is. He is being a total dick. If he only knew the week you had.

"Yeah I'm Joel." He cocks his head in curiosity, wondering how you know his name.

"Well ok Joel. Good to meet you I guess." You flip him the middle finger smirking at him.

You turn to tell Ellie Dina and the others goodbye. You notice Dina whispering in Ellie's ear something as you walk away. You feel Joel's eyes on you as you make your way out the door.

Once you got back to your room, your friend told you that you would be moving into your house in the morning. In exchange for your house, you would be doing patrols and whatever else Maria needed. You offered to bartend or cook as well, it would be nice to not have to fight for a while.

•

The next morning

Today you were being moved into the house You didn't have much, but Maria made sure you were gonna be taken care of. It was small. But it was a house. Four walls. Something you haven't had in years. A room. A kitchen. A bathroom. Your friend walks you over, Maria is there to greet you.

"Hello how are you doing.?"

"Good I'm good.. thank you.. really.."

"No need, we take care of one another here. We all know what it's like to be a refuge one way or another."

Joel walks around the corner. You lock eyes. And he's even more good looking in the day light.

"This is Joel.. have you met yet.? Maria asks.

"Yeah we met yesterday." You glare at him. Hoping today maybe he will be a bit nicer. (God please be nice. You're too hot to not be.)

"By that glare you are giving him I'm assuming so."

"We met yesterday at the hall, she was having dinner with Dina and Ellie before she ran into me." Joel pipes in.

You scoff

"Yeah and I said I was sorry and then you proceeded to be a dick. "Oh YoU aRe AnOtHeR OnE.. blah blah old grumpy man mumbles"

"Joel, what did you say to her!? " Maria questions.

"All I said was. Oh she's another one I gotta fix a house for or build somethin for s'all.. ya know you been on me and I been tryin. Wasn't meant to be rude"

"It's not what you said it's how you said it Joel." Maria replies. "Everyone has a story Joel. Everyone deserves a chance. Remember when that was you."

"Yeah... anyway.. if you need anythin or somethin needs fixed.. I'm a few houses down." Joel looks at you as he leaves.

"Sorry about Joel.. he's a little hard headed.. he's been through a lot.. Tommy is his younger brother. Joel is a good man.. just takes time to get under his hard exterior."

(Oh I'd like to see under.. wait no. Bad brain. He's a dick.)

"It's fine. I get it. That's what people say about me too, my sister was the easy going.. and I was the dark and broody."

"Sounds exactly like Joel and Tommy. Anyways I'll let you get settled.. in a few days we will get you on patrol, or whatever you feel comfortable doing. Even though in my opinion I think you need a break. I don't want you trying to do anything to put yourself in jeopardy."

"Sounds good thank you again."

•

Maria and your friend leaves, now it's just you. The house is insanely quiet. Something that you aren't used to, and If it was quiet you had to be fully aware of your surroundings. But not here. Here you can relax. You go to the kitchen and see that there was a can of coffee on the counter along with a coffee pot. Coffee is hard to come by.. and so is this pot. Maria left you a note saying it was a welcome present. "Fuck yeah." You mutter to yourself. You make your self a pot.. You then have a flashback when you traded a pair of your sister's shoes for coffee and how she was pissed at you at first until you made her a cup and she forgot how much she loved coffee. You zone out for a moment until you realize you were crying, then there was a knock on your door.

"Just a minute!" You wipe your tears walking to open the door, and when you open it there he stands.

"Hello." You cock your head in curiosity on why the hell he would be here.

"Hi um.. I think I owe you an apology... wait is that coffee.?"

"It is... ummm do you want a cup.?"

(God girl what are we doin.)

"Sure."

"Come in."

Joel follows you, your back to him but you could feel his eyes. Something told you the way he was looking at you was exactly how you looked at him the night before. Joel sits down at the small table, his big broad structure almost too big to be sitting there. You pour him a cup and sit down across from him. Now you can really look at him. The grey patches in his beard, the scars, how his glasses slightly tilt forward on his nose.. and his hands.. god his hands. You sit in silence for a moment.

"You came to apologize.?" You look at him right into his eyes.

"Yeah."

"Okay go on."

"I just said I apologize kid, what do you want a whole speech."

"First off. I'm not a kid let's get that straight. Secondly. Yes or at least an explanation of what you are apologizing for." You lean back making your shirt rise slightly showing your tattoos. You happen to see Joel look.

"Eyes up here old man." You smirk.

"I uh- ok. I apologize for bein an ass. I'm just trying to get things movin and more people are comin in and I took that out on you."

"Mhmmm"

"Mhmmm is all I get.?"

"I'm sharing my coffee, and I didn't kick your ass when you checked me out just now."

"I wasn't.. you are like my kids age. I uh-"

You raise your shirt exposing your fully tattooed stomach, along with scars of your past. Joel licks his lips and lets out a soft grunt. Wiggling in his seat.

" point proven old man, and I ain't your kids age. I am 10 years older than her. You can relax about that now."

"Still a kid to me."

You chuckle.

"You are sweetheart. So that makes ya what.. 30? .. I'm 56. And I wasn't checking you out. You would know if I was."

Him saying that just made this a challenge. Sure you have been with other men.. and woman.. things get lonely.. sometimes you used your body to get things you needed. Not proud of it but you used what you had to your advantage to survive. This was something entirely different. This was a want solely because of attraction. physically. The need of it.

"I already know. I can't tell by how you shifted in your seat, how even yesterday how your eyes lingered on me a little longer than they should."

Joel sets down his empty coffee cup. Standing up

"I should get goin, go check on Ellie, see what else Maria has for me today.."

Joel walks toward your front door

"She's probably with Dina... and thought you were tired of helping."

You stand in front of the door so he can't open it yet. He stands in front of you face to face inches away from each other. Joel reaches around you to grab the door handle. Instead he falls forward pushing you against the door, your bodies touching. His lips above your ear as he pushes your hair back off your shoulder leaning in.

"Thanks for the coffee" he whispers.

You could smell the coffee and cigarettes on his breath. Not thinking your body taking over you run your hands gracefully through his hair. Joel letting out what sounded like a very quiet moan.

"You are welcome.. and I accept your apology."

You lean up opening the door. Giving him a smile.

"Let me know if you need anything okay?"

"I will Joel."

Joel leaves, you watch him walk down the road and he really does just live like maybe 4 houses away. You decided to take a walk it was mid afternoon now, and summer here in Jackson. People are out enjoying the sun. The peacefulness. You just walk..and walk.. observing everything, everyone. Being one with what's around you. In a way you needed this. Time to clear your emotions. Gain some clarity of where you are. Losing track of time or where you were even going. Not paying attention you slam right into Joel... again...

"Oh my god." You look up at him . His brown eyes looking down at you.

"Is this gonna be a habit? Am I gonna have to like wear bright fucking orange or somethin?" Joel smirks.

"Sorry I - " your eyes fill with tears "I'm sorry I wasn't here kinda lost in my own head." You wipe your eyes quickly hoping he didn't notice. (He definitely did.)

"Are you okay.?" Joel touches your arm gently, sending shivers through your whole body. At this point everyone around is watching you.

"God people are gonna think I'm a fucking nut case, I'm - I'm fine Joel. I am sorry this time for running into you. Looks like we are gonna make a habit of apologies." You laugh. "I um I'm going back home."

"You wanna get a drink, maybe you could use one? There's music tonight."

(Joel. And alcohol. Bad idea. )

"Yes I do."

•

•

Not is it every day do you see Joel miller walk into a bar with a woman.. but today wasn't every other day. The community of course whispers. Tales about him and his past.. and now same for you. Things you have done.. how you are unstable, ticking time bomb. You could say maybe you were two peas in a pod and you didn't even realize it.

"Oh my god is that tequila.?" Your eyes light up. "I fucking love tequila."

Joel calls over the bartender. "Whiskey neat.. and two shots of tequila for the lady."

"Oh lady?" You look at Joel, smirk on your face.

" I didn't call you kid" he smiles back at you.

"You didn't ... but giving me tequila well that makes me un lady like. Well hell I don't think I've ever really been a lady. That was my sister's fortè." You sigh realizing you brought your sister up. Figuring now there were going to be questions. Joel now looking at you, observing your body language. Here ya go the bartender says as she sets down the drinks. Without hesitation you take one right after the other knowing damn well that was a bad idea. 2 shots lead to 4 shots.. led to 6 shots.. led to you losing count.

•

The bar was filling up with people on this beautiful summer night. Each time someone new came in their eyes drifted to the pair in the corner throwing back shots , talking like there is no tomorrow with one another. Laughing, subtle touches. An unexpected pair.

That's when Tommy walked in.

"Hey big brother." Joel looks at him not knowing exactly what to say. At this point you have left Joel to go dance, the band was playing and you felt free, felt safe.

"Hey Tommy."

"I seen you two have gotten acquainted.?"

"Yeah somethin like that, um-" Joel struggled with his words because honestly he didn't even know how to comprehend any of this. It's been a long time since he has been on a date if that's what this was.

"It's good big brother.. you deserve some fun, you know her story right.?"

At that point of the night your complete story wasn't told, just bits and pieces.

"No" Joel looks at Tommy concerned

Tommy explains to him about how you were traveling to Jackson. The distance you traveled just you and her.. how you lost your sister. How she died in your arms.. like how Sarah died in his.. (you don't know that.) He then explained how that the next morning when Joel had patrol when they found those raiders. but some of them got away.. the one who killed your sister was one of them. He then explained the lore about you.. your ruthlessness.. how you take no prisoners.. how you are pretty much Joel..

"Hiiiii Tommy!! Where is Maria. She's so nice" (you are sluring your words)

Okay.. um I think I should go home...."

You start walking out..

"Wait let me walk you." Joel grabs your hand pulling you back.

"Goodnight big brother.. take care of the girl.." Tommy gives Joel a wink.

"Always"

•

You stumble out of the bar. I mean you don't get to drink tequila everyday, and it's been a minute since you have.

"Hey easy girl.. hold on to me"

Joel hooks your arm through his to stable you to walk.

"Soooo you save all the pretty damaged ladies.. or what." You giggle.

"No.. this is actually the first time in a very very very long time I have been out with a woman." Joel's voice gets soft as he realizes he is being vulnerable.

"Good because I don't need Savin. I'm done for." Joel stops for a second. Looks at you eyes locking.

"Tommy was right." You look at him totally confused.

"Uh okay sir take me home."

You finally reach your house. Joel opens the door getting you inside. Pours you a glass of water leading you to your bedroom. Very very much intoxicated you start taking off your clothes.

"Hey sweetheart " Joel turns the other direction. You have shed your top and jeans leaving you in a bralette and a thong.

"Oh god quit. You can look. Modesty is not my thing honey. And anyways you already looked at me earlier." Joel turns to look at you. He then really realizes how long it has been. Taking in your curves, how your breast accentuate the bralette you have on. The scars and ink on your skin and how he wants to explore every inch, hear every story. You plop down on your bed. Joel standing in your doorway. You pat the bed on the space next to you.

"Sweetheart... I don't.. maybe that's not a good idea." Joel shakes his head. Fighting between what he wants to do and what he thinks is the right thing to do.

"Oh come on old man.. what's Little ol me gonna do huh?"

Joel sighs because this is a fight he will not win. An urge too hard to fight.

"Fuck it." Joel comes over sitting on the other side of you.

"See how hard was that.." you smile ear to ear, because for the first time in a long time you are actually enjoying yourself.

"Mhm I'm pretty fucking hard.."

"Wait what?" Joel clears his throat.

"Nothing I just said it was hard."

You are lying on your side, inches between you and Joel who is sitting his back against the wall legs down the bed. His hand in the space between you. He catches you staring at his hand.

"What? Why you starin at my hand.? Are you sure you ain't a nut job.?" You push his shoulder, his hand reaching up grabbing your wrist his fingers trailing down your hand interlinking his fingers with yours.

"Are you holding my hand Joel miller?"

"Yeah.. yeah.. is that okay.?" Joel asks nervously.

"It's more than okay.." you roll over closing the space between you. Your head on his shoulder, leg crossed over his. "Is this okay.?" You ask looking up at him.

"More than okay"

"Okay..what about this.." un buttoning his buttons on his flannel sliding it off his shoulders to the floor, your hands running under the hem of his tee shirt then lifting it off.

Joel lets out a grunt. As your hands touch his bare skin. "More than okay."

You slip your leg over him, legs now on either side of him. Sitting up looking at him as his hands fondle all over your body.

"Is this okay.?" You ask as your hands touch his face leaning forward lips inches away. Joel shivers under your touch as your hands leave his face trailing down his body. For a 56 year old his body is still in impeccable shape, scars cover him.

"More than okay." He whispers as you are nose to nose now. Each other's hands exploring each other's bodies like you haven't been touched in years. (Really you haven't.. not like this)

"Kiss me then." Joel pulls back slightly just looking at you nervously.

"Sweetheart.. I- it's been-"

"Just do it Joel."

His calloused hands cup each side of your face, taking his time moving his lips towards yours, eyes never leaving yours. You inch in closing the distance.

"If it's too much it's fi-" your sentence was cut off by Joel's lips on yours. It was gentle and Warm. He pulls back for a moment before going right back in, this time the kiss was more intense, his lips moving at a slow rhythm you mirroring it. You got a bit bold sliding your tongue into his mouth and Joel happily obliged. The kisses were careful until they weren't. It was like breathing again after being underwater. It was fire and gasoline. It was like you couldn't get enough. The more you took the more you wanted. Joel's hands still on your face pulling you in even more each time he would kiss you , each time he would caress his tongue with yours. It's like he was holding on so he didn't lose you. You suck on his bottom lip making him moan into you. Running your hands through his hair, you couldn't help but notice you were grinding your hips into his. Both bottom halves of you still clothed. You in your panties and Joel in his jeans. Joel's hands leave your face trailing down your body. Eyes looking at every part of you. Taking it all in.

You lean to his ear lips grazing it.

"Is this okay.?" As you purposefully this time grind against him feeling his bulge below you.

"Um-ugh fuck sweetheart. You keep doing that I'll make a mess.. it's been years since I've been with anyone."

You stop, now looking him in the eyes.

"Then we can stop.. I don't wanna be something you regret. If it's been that long. I don't know if you have morals or whatever."

Joel chuckels

"Baby girl my morals have been gone for a long long time." He flips you over on to your back. Kissing down your jaw, making you let out a moan you have been holding back this whole time. Kissing back up your jaw slightly nibbling on your ear

"Is this okay?" He whispers.

You grab his hand leading him between your thighs to your heat hot with arousal. He gently moves them to the side, grazing his ring finger down and up.

"By how wet I am, I think it's more than okay."

Joel does this a few times still slightly hesitant with how long it's been.

"Jesus Joel.." you moan. He's barely touching you but it feels like he has taken over your whole body. Then it's like it clicks.. like riding a bike.. his manly instinct kicks in realizing he has this beautiful woman in the palm of his hands. He circles your clit with his thumb, watching you arch bucking your hips up trying to get more pressure. He slides his index finger inside while he has his thumb working on your clit. You were right about his hands, one finger is already stretching you. You pull his face to yours because you NEEDED to kiss him. You needed to consume everything of him you could. Those sweet kisses from earlier are gone and have been replaced with ones with hunger and need. Ones with heavy moans into one another as he adds another finger into you.

Joel now grunting obviously aroused by the sounds you are making as your pussy tightens around his fingers.

"Joel" you manage to choke out. Your lips still against his

"Yes" his breath heavy against you.

You unbuttoned his jeans, able to see the print of his seemingly hard cock. Joel looks down..

"Well that's been awhile since it's been like that."

You graze your nails down his chest causing him to curse under his breath. Hands leading to the top of his underwear. Joel not stopping you. You pull them down slightly, his cock falling out, hard, heavy, and huge. Your eyes glisten at the sight of pre cum on the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight not knowing where you wanted it more. Your mouth. Deep inside your pussy. Or hell even your ass. You gently wrap your hand around it making Joel's body jump. You stroke him, pulling his face to yours. You move your hand up and down, feeling him become harder each stoke. Joel couldn't contain the noises and moans leaving his body.

"Is this okay?" You stroking him, lips kissing down his jaw, down to his neck.

Joel unable to form any type of sentence besides a moan, his hands find your breast kneading them, feeling your nipples harden under his rough finger tips.

"More than okay." He finally managed to reply. Joels hands slip under the band of your bralette pulling it off of you. Throwing it to the floor. Hand's slowly making their way back toward the ache between your thighs. He pulls your panties off in a swift motion leaving you completely naked under him.

"Wanna know somethin?" You look up at Joel who's removing his pants along with his underwear.

"Yeah I do"

He looks at you in a way you only dreamed of a man looking at you.

"I think fate brought us here. I think you and I are more similar than we realize.."

He makes his way back on to the bed, spreading your legs putting himself between them.

"Is that so."

"Yes"

Joel lines himself up to your entrance, barely the tip but you can already feel the stretch. Joel hesitates for a second. Acting kinda unsure of himself until he see you wiggle under him, your body doing the begging for you.

With a gentle thrust he invades you, leaving your body shaking. In and out slowly. Both of you feeling everything of one another.

Joel looking down at you as he fills you completely full. You taking every single inch, his tip hitting that sweet spot. It was just right but still you both needed more and you didn't even know till each line was crossed. Joel's rhythm still slow and steady. Your hand trails to the top of your mound finding your clit who is begging to be touched. You begin circling it, amplifying everything by a mile. Joel notices and this does something to him, something he hasn't felt in what felt like forever. His pace picks up. Thrust after thrust after thrust. The pressure of him building. You wrap your legs around him pulling him even deeper. Your lips kissing his. Hands in his curls pulling on them everytime that spot was touched. It was like your bodies knew one another.

"Where did you come from.?" Joel speaks against your lips.

"The devil maybe." Joel thrust harder. Making you moan into him, his thumb tracing your lips you suck it gently.

"I don't think the devil is as sweet as this is."

Joel thrusts even more, your body feeling like it could either explode or spilt in half. Your stomach burns and you feel your climax building.

"Joel I- oh my god- right there."

"You what sweetheart.. look at me."

"I'm gonna - fuck."

Joel hits that spot a few more times. Your pussy clinging on every thrust. Clinching down on Joel's cock.

You unravel below him, bodies shaking. Joel pulls out and as he does cum seeps down his cock. He was so invested in your orgasm he didn't realize his was right there was well. You stare at him. At the his cum covered cock.

"Can I?" You question.

"Can you-" Joel was cut off by you licking cum off of his cock.

"Jesus fuck-" he curses grabbing your hair.

You smile back at him. Still slightly tipsy but high on what just transpired between the two of you.

"Soooooo." You trail off not knowing what to say after all that.

You lay your head on his chest, laying on one of his arms, the other arm free as Joel's hand trace the ink on your body, some tattoos covering scars, other scars on their own.

"Any of these have meaning.?"

"The scars or the tattoos." You look at him.

"Both."

"Point to one and I'll explain.."

There is a deep long scar on your rib cage covered by dark black fowers.

"This one."

That one was from the Columbus QZ. Mom was in a bad place.. people were bombing buildings. Raiders came in tried to steal the medicine she needed. That's one of my first ones.. probably one of the worst as well.. was deep as hell, I stitched myself."

Joel's eyes focused on you. Watching you speak.

"Ok this one.." points to the somewhat new scar on your chest above your heart.

"You're not gonna like this story. But I'll tell it.. I was involved with a man.. for awhile.. he said he was gonna cut my heart out.. some shit went down. He tried... didn't succeed tho."

Joel's jaw clenches at the thought of a man trying to hurt you. Tracing leaves that wrap around your ribs

"Honestly most of the tattoos were because I was bored. It was something I could go to feel pain but also relief. Therapy I guess."

"Ellie has a tattoo.. it's a moth.. " Joel cracks a smile.

"I seen.. I have a moth too actually. It's on the back of my arm." You show him.

It's beyond late now.. time has flown by.

"So um - I should probably go... it's late.. I don't know if Ellie is home. Should be up early to check on the projects.." Joel runs his hands through your hair.

"Yeahs.. yeah.. that's fine.. umm okay.."

You stutter. Not knowing what this was going to be.. was it going to be a one time thing.. was it gonna be something.. you didn't know.. a part of you wanted to know but another part knew better to get attached to people.

"Hey.. sit up and look at me for sec." Joel's tone sounding serious.

You sit up turning to face him. Both of you still naked, barring everything. Your bodies your souls.

"Yeah?" You look at him.

" I don't do these things.. well I haven't done these things in a long time..."

Your body shifts not knowing where he was going with this.

"I'm just sayin I have a kid well an Ellie.. and I have responsibilities.."

"Joel I'm not here to complicate any of that.. my life has been complicated .. and hard.. I want the opposite. I'm ready to stay in one spot for a while. Be boring for once in my life.. you don't have to explain.. this can just be what it was. Two people who just had a need to fill.."

"You're missin what I was sayin.. I didn't mean that.. I just meant if I put myself here.. it's because I wanted to be.. I wanted to do this with you.. to talk to you.. same thing with the other things in my life.. I'm too damn old to not be that way."

You look at him , slight smile forming.

"Okay." You say.

"Okay?"

"Okay I mean you know where to find me.. if you wanna see me.. if you want to talk.. if you want to pin me to this mattress again. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I have no place else.. no one else." Your eyes water realizing you never really did mention your sister.

"Tommy told me." Joel looks at you, his thumb running across your cheek. "He told me she died in your arms.. that you brought her all this way and she died right outside the gates.. I guess I didn't put two and two together because I heard about that and then the next mornin I did patrol.. "

you look at him, worry in your eyes.. but also curiosity.

"You did patrol the next morning? Did you see them.. do you know where they went.? I killed 3 of them.. but not him.. not the one who stabbed her."

Your body is now shaking.

"Hey, look at me." Joel holds your shoulders

"The ran back the other direction towards the river.. I don't know more than that.

You look at Joel. Your eyes dark.

"I'm about to ask you something serious and I want you to be honest. I've heard the words people say about you.. what you have done.." Joel's body tenses.

"I need to know.. if they come back here.. or if I ever see him.. you will let me kill him. Or you will help me kill him. Maria hasn't put me on patrol for that reason.. she's worried vengeance will take over me and I'll Go off on my own looking. Joel I have to.. if I have that chance I'm going to take it. I'm not saying I'm leaving here to go do that.. I'm saying if my path ever crosses, if that's my fate you will help me carry that out."

Joel looks at you. His eyes watering as he relates to your pain.

"You have my word."

•

Joel gets dressed to leave you, it's early morning by this point.

"Um I'll see you later yeah?" Joel asks.

"I'm sure you'll see me sometime today.. go sleep for a bit old man."

He leaves you with a kiss, as he tuck you in to your bed. You lay there for a moment taking everything In that just happened. How he makes you feel. Lost in those thoughts you eventually drift off to sleep.

•

•

You wake up finally, it's about lunch time. You are definitely hung over. "Fuck I need food." You throw on a tank top, skinny jeans and some boots and head out the door. You can't help but catch yourself looking down the street wondering exactly which one is his house and if he was home... (focus bitch. Ow my head hurts.)

You walk into town, patrol is about to head out. No one you really knew was on it.. even though you were curious what route they were on today and if there was anything connecting to the raiders. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that but here you were.. you needed a distraction.. you needed Joel. You pass the shops, the stables, finally you see him. He's standing outside those glasses on his face, his hands on his hips directing people. Do you walk by.. do you just go get food.. "fuck it."

You walk towards the job site, a house that's being fixed up, others outside as well chatting amongst one another listening to Joel give orders. You are getting closer hoping to not seem like a stalker or hell run right into him again since that's become a habit. You didn't have to try too hard because he's staring right at you.

You are feet away from him now.

"Hey sweetheart. How are ya feelin?"

Smile across Joel's face.

"Hey you. I have headache I was heading to get food. And somehow my path lead me to you." You smirk at him.

"Mhm give me 10 minutes I'll go with you."

"Okay." You couldn't help the wide ass smile that's across your face.

10 minutes go by.

"You ready?"

"Yes I am starving.. my head is killing me, I haven't drank like that in forever." Joel chuckles

"Yeah sweetheart quite a bit of tequila."

You both walk side my side, close but still distance between. It was like a line you weren't sure to cross but you both wanted to. Your hands fall at your side, Joel's hand brushed against yours and just like that your body is on fire. You keep walking and it happens again.. this time he grabs your hand pulling you behind a building. His lips crash on to yours pushing you up against the wall.

"I cant stop thinkin about ya. And then you showed up. Good god. I know it's dangerous getting attached to people but it's you I need." Joel brushes his thumb down your cheek.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since you left, it's like a part of me feels complete with you. The emptiness that I have had is gone."

He kisses you again, grabbing your hand .

"Let's get you food."

You make it to lunch. Everyone is there. Ellie, dina, Maria , and Tommy. You walk in first and Joel walks in right behind you.

You felt the eyes, heard the whispers. But neither one of you cared. You follow Joel's lead as he goes to the table with his family.

"Ellie I told you.!" Dina laughs

"Told her what?" Maria asks.

"Dina swore she caught her checking Joel out the other night." Ellie replies

"Ellie did Joel come home last night.? Or was it super late?" Tommy asks.

"Um I think it was like 6 am when I heard him but I just thought he was getting up."

"Wait Tommy you said you seen Joel at the bar last night.?" Maria asks

"Yeah he was with her."

They all look at one another.

You and Joel make it over to them.

"I um brought company, hope yall don't mind." Joel says.

Dina and Ellie look at you . And you look at them trying so hard not to laugh. Because at least Dina seen this coming.

"No not at all.. I just thought yall didn't like each other." Maria looks at both of you.

"Well we figured out we are more alike than we realized.."

"Is that so? Maria smiles.

"Yep." You and Joel reply at the same time

"Okay I'm starving .. and hungover." You sit down, and Joel sits next to you. Everyone just staring. Joel finally looks at them.

"So Joel why did you get home at 6 am." Ellie asks

You choke on your water.

"Oh I was just up.. wanted to get an early start."

"Bustedddd" Tommy laughs

You chuckle.

"Fineeeee okkkk so we were together last night.. had a bad day went for drinks,. Joel made sure I was alright. No big deal." You smile.

"Till 6 am?" Dina chuckles.

"Yes." Joel replied "fine this is why .. never mind."

You look at Joel who's frustrated in a funny way, you smile stealing a fry off his plate as you do he grabs your wrist like clockwork. His hands liger on you more than they should and just like that cats even more out of the bag.

"Well okay.. you two on patrol tomorrow.. I think I can trust her with you right Joel.?"

Maria says.

"Yep."

Everyone is finishing up heading back to either patrol or whatever else needed done.

Dina winks at you. "Good job Joel she's hot."

Ellie gives you a smile. "I'd like to join you on patrol tomorrow if that's cool.

"I'd love that actually Ellie." You wave as her and Dina leave.

"Hello again.." tommy smiles at both of you.

"Big brother... bring her over for dinner?"

"Sure thing."

Tommy leaves. Now it's just the two of you.

"Family dinner. Family patrol. Welcome to Jackson I guess.. so much for discreet." Joel laughs pulling you in for a kiss in front of everyone.

"Welcome home."

Tags : @ohhoneypascal @megangovier @pedroscurls @iknowisoundcrazy @mandaloriankait

[theboardwalkbody]

This is a snippet of the Twister imagine (also the Reader-ish OFC / Dusty thing). It is very much written quickly and a literal play-by-play of how it was unfolding in my head in real-time. So not really structured as properly as a regular fic. Part of me WANTS to flesh it out properly for a fic but I also feel that if I try to it might just never happen where if I release it this way at least SOMETHING will get put out.

Anyway, this is how I introed it in my drafts:

I am in the mood for a fluffy, summery imagine so here's something (note - it's actually just me writing out the daydream I was having earlier) (note 2 - there is absolutely hints of 'reader' and dusty crushing on each other) (And here's another note - I ended up putting a read more cut due to length, I didn't realize this would be so long also it gets VERY Dusty/FReader under the cut all hints out the window really lol You know the 'only one bed' trope? yeah it's that, except there's only one shower oops - but there's nothing explicit sorry friends):

If you're interested I'd love feedback on if you'd prefer it to be released in ANY format (as in this style being ok or actual fleshed out story) OR if you're only really interested in a fully fleshed out / polished format. Again, I'll be honest, this might be the only thing I have motivation for (and it is still taking me some time) so IDK how a more "polished" thing would go BUT I am still interested in feedback. Or if you like where it's going or whatever. I'm considering switching from F!Reader to OFC if its more polished but that's not set in stone either. All of this is a lot of scenery so far. lol

INTRO TO FIC/IMAGINE/SOMETHING BELOW:

You're in the pool, at first sitting on the bench between Haynes and Laurence; she's reading a trashy gossip magazine (she would otherwise be on her phone doing the same thing but she's not one to bring valuable electronics around the pool even if they're water resistant), and he's got a book and nearby a waterproofed go-pro. Eventually you do decide to journey off the bench and begin simply walking a circle in the shallow-end. After about twenty minutes of what is basically your attempt at water-based exercise just for the heck of it you start feeling even warmer than when you'd first gotten in so you decide to actually submerge yourself up to your neck and explore the deep end; swimming back and forth between there and the shallow end. Every so often you sing softly along with the music but not loud enough for anyone to really hear.

Off the shallow-end on the deck Jo is getting in some sun on one of the lounge chairs. She's wearing brown-tinted sunglasses that, thanks to how dark they are, anyone could easily assume she was asleep but knowing Jo she's keenly aware of what everyone's doing. On the lounge chair next to her is Melissa (because I like to imagine they could all be adults and remain friends despite all the events they been through). Melissa, like you, is wearing oversized sunglasses. She has accented her swimsuit with a large sunhat. She has a novel in hand and her work cell on the table between her and Jo's chairs next to the pitcher of iced tea that is dripping with condensation. Melissa's glass is nearly empty where Jo's sits half full next to her almost empty bottle of Twisted Tea.

Over at the gazebo Bill, Joey, and Preacher sit, each with their own bottles of beer in hand. They're having a conversation but between the music and their distance from you, the sounds of the water as you swim through it, and the shouts from the rest of the gang the only bits of their discussions you can hear are their intermittent bursts of laughter. Scattered around the tables under the metal roof were bottles and cans of different beers and sodas belonging to the men otherwise unaccounted for by the pool and in the gazebo.

On the opposite side of the pool, the farther side of the yard, the open grassy area is being utilized by the rest of the group. The volleyball net had been taken down and gently placed along the fence to make room for a game of touch football. Dusty and Beltzer VS Rabbit and Sanders. This group was particularly raucous. Laughter, shouts of playful jabs, whoops of celebration, expletive exclamations of defeat and disagreement over calls. Occasionally one of them would call over to the gazebo group demanding a referee call - often answered by Joey who was paying slightly more attention to the amateur football game than his conversation buddies but occasionally answered by Bill if the debate was getting too heated.

At some point in your playlist the new Luke Combs song, Ain't No Love in Oklahoma, comes on which gets some of the group singing along, none more so than Dusty and Beltzer, however. The sound of them shouting along the words almost drowned out the actual audio from the speakers. It made you, Haynes, and Jo crack subtle little smiles. Jo because she enjoyed seeing her group having a good time, Hayne's because she enjoyed seeing Beltzer have a good time and found his singing enjoyable, and you because you enjoyed seeing Dusty having a good time and always thought it was cute when he would get so into things and just be fully and unapologetically himself; loud, fun, goofy, sweet - all of it.

[rin-sith]

This came to me earlier, and now I am utterly obsessed: While it was clear to me that Odysseus stabbing Poseidon wasn't any kind of Vengeance, there was one act of Vengeance after all, even if inadvertent—it was Odysseus disproving Poseidon's "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" belief right in front of his very eyes. With him as the subject, even.

Think about it—the fact that Poseidon remained ruthless and insisted on punishing Odysseus was the only reason he got stabbed repeatedly. If Poseidon had been merciful, if he had accepted Odysseus' offer of forgiveness, he would've been fine. His own ruthlessness backfired so hard on him this time that I am sincerely hoping it haunts him forever.

I am actually utterly obsessed with Poseidon thinking back to Odysseus "Maybe you could learn to forgive?" on a daily, no an hourly basis. I cannot and will not lie to you that is unironically my favorite moment in the whole Vengeance saga just because of what it says about both the characters—about Odysseus for offering and Poseidon for declining (and also because Odysseus sings it in Poseidon's own motif which is just absolutely brilliant.) And this makes me love it even more.

Poseidon was going to decline, we all know that. I don't think anyone watching—even Odysseus, probably—expected him to accept. But then I'm picturing him lying there, bleeding into the stone, and, against his will, wondering whether maybe he should have. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be in pain. Maybe if he had not killed Odysseus' fleet ten years ago, he wouldn't be in pain either. Maybe this one time ruthlessness wasn't mercy upon himself—maybe this time, his one grand belief was wrong. Maybe ... it was always wrong.

Obviously, he would never admit to these thoughts, he would slap himself for having them one second later. But I simply need this self-proclaimed god of ruthlessness to be utterly haunted by that and question whether he made the right choice or no—whether he's even lived by the correct philosophy all his immortal life—and no matter what, be too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

He's trying to pretend like nothing changed, but the thoughts still remain. They pester him. They won't leave him alone. Especially every time someone—anyone—is kind to him for whatever reason, they come crashing back into him and they won't leave.

"What if my own ruthlessness hurt me that time?"

"What if ruthlessness isn't mercy upon ourselves after all?"

"What if I'm wrong?"

"What if I have always been wrong?"

The most dreadful thoughts imaginable to a god as proud and stubborn and old as Poseidon, but they're there now and he can't do anything about them. You all don't understand how much I NEED this god to jolt up in his bed at 3 am after having a dream or nightmare about something related to one of his many ruthless deeds (maybe even sinking Odysseus' fleet) and go "BUT WHAT IF I HAD LEARNED TO FORGIVE?? WHAT IF I STILL COULD??" only to immediately slap himself for it because that's absolutely ridiculous.

He is left to watch this belief shatter before his very eyes as he's clinging to the remains of it desperately, trying to keep it all from crumbling. Not because he genuinely believes he's right anymore, but because he simply cannot imagine ... does not know how to live by any other philosophy.

No matter whether it's objectively correct or not, it's the very thing that defines him. The thing he's known for. He has built his entire image around this, he cannot give it up no matter what ... at least not quickly or without help.

But as much he would seek to deny it, his core belief has now been proven wrong; he has actually lived through an instance where it was wrong, and he can do nothing to erase those memories or conclusions from his mind no matter how much he yearns to go back to simpler times.

And that was the real Vengeance, guys—possibly the biggest, most painful existential crisis of Poseidon's immortal life. I rest my case.

Although before I disappear back into the void I simply must give a shout out to @o3o-lapd-o3o (this came to me during a conversation in one of their comment sections for the glorious Friends In Higher Places AU, which is quite possibly my favorite piece of EPIC fan content that exists ...)

[marvey-sideblog]

"And it just happened to be empty?" "Something like that."

Suits 4x8 "Exposure" Mike returns to Pearson Specter and gets Harvey's old office.

[electroniccollectiondonut]

I have not been in this fandom long enough to reasonably judge others' takes however. "EPIC fans are so silly to characterize odysseus as feeling guilty for his actions don't you know he's a war criminal" is definitely a wild one. like first of all to each their own so settle down and let people enjoy things ok. and secondly making choices with a bad outcome, even knowingly and deliberately, does not exclude the possibility of feeling bad about it later. in fact it makes for a much more in depth character because then you get to explore what he does or doesn't feel guilt over, and why, and if that guilt ever edges into regret or not.

[celestialrealms]

I just noticed Mephisto matches with Barbatos (who is matchy with Diavolo) in the anniversary outfits in his SSR memory card

These three were also the only three who had half masks in the masquerade event!!!

Anyway, The Royals with Mephisto chat group when? We got one for Purgatory Hall with Raphael..... it's just fair !!

And one for Mephisto and Diavolo as well, but also one for Mephisto and Barbatos too. because you can't tell me their relationship isn't deeper than the devs portray when Mephisto has lines like this about Barbatos's room:

[cum-a-calla]

.

[se7ens-oc-heaven]

And now, time for some oc writing!! Specifically, a self-contained piece for my SwSh oc Rex. I think of this as a sort of brief, non-chronological "timeline" piece for him, showing out-of-context snapshots to sort of give a sense of his main drive in the Legendkeepers story. Hopefully you'll all enjoy, this is my first time doing a format like this but I hope it isn't too confusing!

Context: Rex is my oc who follows the Shield storyline, becoming a champion of Galar and exploring the story and events in the Crown Tundra afterwards. His best friend, Ritsu, is a "Faller" who went missing when they were children, and never came back. This follows Rex and how he handles this disappearance as he gets older.

•••

Rex was eleven years old when he first heard the news that his best friend was reported missing. He was worried, of course. He loved his friend dearly. But, in the way you do when you're eleven, he also felt a sureness of how the world worked in a way that didn't always turn out the way it by all rights should have. 

"Yeah, mum and dad have been losing their minds over it. You'd think the world was ending over here, never mind how Ritsu’s parents have been handling things," Rex said rather blithely to Hop, his neighbor and longtime friend. Ritsu's longtime friend. Hop, perched on the stone wall next to Rex, tilted his head at him, confused. 

"They said Ritsu's gone though, right? That sounds awful serious to me," he countered, concern lacing his expression. Hop, by this point, had gathered the nature of the situation well before Rex did. Rex shrugged, swinging his feet aimlessly, heels battering the old stone wall beneath him. 

"I dunno. I mean, it can't be that bad. His parents are always making a fuss if Ritsu misses so much as snack time, and you know he's aces at building super secret bases. He prolly just made a new one and didn't tell them," Rex explained, hopping off the wall with a muted 'oof'. 

"Hey, maybe next time we go visit, we should ask him if we can sleep over in it! I bet it's so cool no one would ever wanna leave, and that's why no one's seen him yet!" He added excitedly. Hop nodded, eyes brightening, the enthusiasm infectious. 

"Yeah, that'd be awesome!" 

•••

Rex was ten years old when his parents were ready to let him take on his first Pokemon. Rex had been eagerly waiting for the day. Bursting with excitement when they told him the good news. But he asked, as politely as he'd ever asked anything, that he wait a year before getting one. 

"Rex, dear, this is all you've ever talked about for so long! I don't mind, but why the change of heart?" His mother inquired, surprised. 

"I was thinking I want to wait until Ritsu can get his, so we can get ours together and they can be bestest buds just like we are!" Rex beamed. His parents exchanged fond, if somewhat anxious glances. 

"I don't have a problem with it," his dad chimed in. 

"But... Ritsu may not even want a pokemon. You know how he gets around them," he added carefully, watching his son for his response. Rex, unphased, shook his head. 

"It'll be fine! He'd feel loads better if he had one looking out for him, I know he would! And so'd his parents! I bet if they quit nagging him so much they'd all learn pokemon can be really cool too!" 

"Rex! That's no way to speak about them!" His mother scolded him with a huff. Rex merely gave a cheeky shrug. 

"It's true though!" 

•••

Rex was fifteen years old when he decided to take on the gym challenge. His parents protested his decision, but he didn't care. He was tired of them getting on his case all the time anymore. Always the same thing, nag nag nag. Ever since Ritsu had disappeared, both his mum and dad had gone insane about keeping track of Rex, holding him accountable at all times. Rex was fed up with it. 

"Ready to go, Miki?" He whispered to his Charmander, sitting on the bedroom sill next to him. Miki wagged her tail, the embers flickering in a mesmerizing fashion in the early dawn light. 

"Char!" She squeaked eagerly. Rex shushed her, brushing a fingertip down her nose gently as a tactile reminder. He grinned down at the charmander in her little red bow. 

"Alright. Let's go then, before we wake mum and dad," he murmured, gesturing with a free arm. Miki took the cue, hopping onto his shoulders, clinging for all she was worth. Rex took a final look down the wall, and - judging it clear - hauled himself down the side, keeping a solid hold on the windowsill now above him. He felt around for good footholds, inching his way down. Normally he'd have no qualms about just dropping right down into the bush below, full force. But he had to be quiet. 

Miki whimpered slightly as Rex slid a little, missing what he thought had been a good ledge. She clung tighter as he fumbled around, adjusting his handholds once he felt his legs were stable. Rex took another look down. Should be good enough, right? 

"Hold on, Miki," he whispered, and with a push he launched himself off the wall, landing on his feet below just in front of the bush. The momentum carried him into a kneel, and he rammed his knees down into the grass with a pained grunt. Oh, he'd be feeling that one later. But that was later, and this was now. And right now, he had to go meet with Hop. 

"Whew.... Alright," Rex muttered to himself, shaking off the lingering pain from his graceless landing. 

"Let's go!" 

It would be several hours before his parents discovered what happened. Rex would be long gone for Wedgehurst by then, and fresh off of what would be his first of many legendary encounters.  

•••

Rex was sixteen years old as he stared down death for the first real time. As he placed himself between Leon and Hop, the latter crying for the former to wake up, pull himself together, Death stared down at the scene before it with a blank apathy. Rex glowered up at the unfeeling hand just waiting to scoop them all up within its chilling grasp. He didn't care what it thought it was, it was out of line! 

The creature - Eternatus, presumably - thundered a hollow, alien cry, and Rex readied his pokeballs. It'd have to kill him and his team before it could get to Hop and Leon. 

•••

Rex was still sixteen years old as he tackled the chairman to the floor of the power plant. He'd never cared much for the man and his glib manner of speaking, but it had never been personal. Before now, that is. 

Now? He wanted nothing more dearly than to make the older man pay for what he did. For endangering his pokemon. For endangering Leon. For endangering Hop, and nearly putting him through another loss. For nearly putting Rex through another loss. 

Well. Rex almost wanted nothing more dearly than to make the older man pay.  

Rex was sixteen years old as the other adults hauled him off of the beaten and battered chairman, voices blending together into a thick stew of concern and shock, worry and admonishment. 

Rex was sixteen years old as he was escorted from the Hammerlocke gym, into a throng of cameras and microphones pushing and shoving greedily towards him, ready to feed. 

Rex was sixteen years old as articles scrutinizing him flew off the press and as news reporters used his name as they would that of a storm in the daily weather report. 

Rex was sixteen years old, a hero of Galar. A public figure.

Rex was sixteen years old when he became the Champion.

Rex was sixteen years old. 

•••

Rex was twelve years old, nearly thirteen, when he attended his best friend's funeral. He didn't understand why. Ritsu was still missing. Not dead. 

According to the adults, it was because there were no leads, no sign of Ritsu anywhere at any point, and so they had to assume the worst. Well, then the adults hadn't looked hard enough! That wasn't Ritsu's fault if they were bollocks at searches. They shouldn't have been giving up on him just for that. 

Rex stood amid a mass of black, holding his baby charmander close to his chest. That shouldn't be out, someone had scolded, put it back in its pokeball. 

No, Rex had said, standing firm. Miki has just as much right to be here as anyone. She wasn't hurting anything.

The adults continued to shoot him looks for the orange bundle in his black-clad arms. He let them. 

Miki had been there for him through all of this. She didn't deserve to be cooped up in some ball just because the others thought she was lesser. 

At least Hop understood. Over half of the times that Rex had looked up to see a disapproving glare sent his way, he also saw Hop giving them a hard stare of his own, inching himself in the middle of the line of sight. Rex would give an appreciative smile and Hop would hit him with a small grin of his own. 

"You don't have to handle this alone", it seemed to say. 

•••

Rex was sixteen years old as he stood next to his best friend Hop, in the midst of a panicked evacuation from the Darkest Day heralding the end of the world.

“Aaaagh, shit. How are we going to find Leon in this mess?” Hop bounced on the balls of his feet anxiously, trying to crane his neck to see past the people flooding out of the building. 

“Stay calm. If there’s one thing I’ve learned researching about Ritsu, it’s-”

“Oh, drop it about Ritsu for one damned second!” Hop swore. Rex faltered, startled. Around them, alarms blared and a cacophony of voices swarmed in all directions around them. 

Rex stared back at Hop, brows furrowed in a question he was too speechless to ask. Hop waved his arm in a sweeping motion towards everything. 

“Now’s not the time! Just look at this! We have to focus on the now, on saving my brother!”

Rex found himself protesting without fully meaning to.

“Well, yeah, obviously. I wasn’t saying otherwise. I was jus-”

“No, I know! But it’s not the same! It’s not! The same!” Hop interrupted, voice raising.

 “My bro’s still alive! Ritsu’s dead! He’s been dead, and I’ve let it go all this time that you keep blithering on about bringing him back or whatever, but now’s not the time!”

Rex fell still. Hop glared him down for a moment before it was clear no one was going to make a move otherwise. 

“Ugh, screw this! I’m going to go find Leon! Or the chairman. Or. Something!” Hop scoffed, whirling on his heel and running off into the amorphous cloud of people.

Rex hesitated. 

He had to go help too. 

His feet felt welded to the floor. 

Rex was sixteen years old as he stood, lost and alone in a crowd of people fleeing the end of the world. 

•••

Rex was sixteen, going on seventeen years old, as the wind blustered around him, stealing his heat from his bones. He paid it little mind, all attention trained on the pokemon before him, its absurdly large head bobbing around in front of him. Chief Peony likewise bobbed in the air, suspended with telekinesis Rex had wagered, expression almost peaceful as words were spoken through him. 

"I am Calyrex. I am the one known as the King of Bountiful Harvests. I have borrowed this man's body in order to thank you in person...so to speak."

The wind was surely stealing Peony's heat away. He hoped the chief could hold out a little longer. 

•••

“Hold out just a little bit longer, Ritsu.”

Rex was eleven years old, nearly twelve, as he muttered this into his palm. He sat sullenly in his room, staring out the window, grounded for the third time that month for trying to take a train - and then ultimately, a plane - to Hoenn all by himself. 

He was tired of waiting for the adults to get off their arses and find his friend! It was obvious he needed to take matters into his own hands! Not that his parents listened to a word he’d say. What would they know? 

Dejectedly, he flipped through the pages of a worn comic book issue with one hand, disinterested in the panels and words he’d read over a dozen times by now. Only one speech bubble happened to catch his eye by chance as the pages scattered past, a shout bubble belonging to a desperate hero.

“Hold out a little bit longer.”

It was a phrase used often enough, especially in his favorite comics. Seriously enough. Ritsu was fine, Rex knew he was. But it felt appropriate, somehow, to apply it to the situation. 

Hold out a little bit longer. 

Rex was eleven years old, nearly twelve, when a knock on the door distracted him from a troubling line of thinking. 

•••

“Hold on there, Rex,” Rex’s mum had laughed gaily, keying the number into the rotom phone. Rex, twelve years old, sat shoulder to shoulder with Hop, bouncing his knee in impatience as the egg before him glowed gently. 

“But dad’s going to miss it!” Rex whined. 

“He’ll still get to meet the baby pokemon that’s come out of it,” Leon reassured over the speaker. Rex had insisted everyone be present, even if it meant Hop called his brother while Rex’s mum tried - and failed - to reach his dad. 

“It’s supposed to be a charmander, right?” Hop asked his brother. 

“Could be.” 

Rex startled from his pout, and his head whipped to the phone in Hop’s lap. 

“You said it was an egg from your charizard, guaranteed!”

“I mean, who can really tell with eggs?” Leon laughed. Rex had just about wound up a retort when a telltale crack sound snapped in front of him. All eyes trained on the source. 

The egg was hatching. 

Everyone watched, spellbound, as the egg broke open in a blaze of light. A little orange lizard sprawled out from the broken shell, stretching with a tiny squeak of effort, before large aquamarine eyes turned up curiously towards Rex. 

“Hullo there,” Rex whispered, leaning closer to the tiny charmander. 

“Want to be my friend?”

•••

Rex was twenty five years old as he stood, uncertainly, in Eterna forest, an aged flute clutched in both hands. Beside him, Miki, his charizard and most faithful companion, leaned down to huff at the instrument. Rex chuckled, and stroked at her muzzle soothingly. 

“Yeah, I hear ya. ‘S now or never, huh?” 

At his other side, Calyrex nodded sagely. 

“It’s time, Rex,” they confirmed. Rex took a deep breath in. And out. Then, holding the time flute up to his lips, he began to play. 

The trio heard a noise akin to if glitter were a sound, and a delighted laugh chimed across the forest. Rex opened his eyes to see Celebi, hovering in front of him expectantly. 

“Calyrex?” Rex prompted, still nervous. Calyrex nodded. 

“Celebi is ready,” they affirmed. Rex nodded, a smile starting to spread across his lips as it sank in. 

He’d done it. 

He’d finally be bringing Ritsu home. 

Rex was twenty-five years old as he looked Celebi in the eye and said,

“Let’s do it, then. Take me back to Hisui.”

[deconstructivesurgery]

controversial post but i think i'm just too much of an actual adult to be into hlvrai shipping. none of them are kissing on the mouth. none of em.

especially not gordon and benrey. they are however the world's worst roommate. worsties, if you will. gordon gets a notification every time he looks at that uncanny shitass gamer and it says "newsflash: the worst person you know is hysterically funny sometimes" and the funny aspect is just endearing enough that it prevents him from going entirely looney tunes insane

likewise benrey looks at him through the lens of like "man my new friend I found at the end of the world alien event is fucking mean to me sometimes for no reason. this surely has nothing to do with me, benrey, because I am normal and excellent at making friends on PSN." but also he mutually just finds him fun enough that he's genuinely distraught when it turns out gordon actually fucking hates him and isn't picking up on any of his (incomprehensible) bullshit about not wanting to be an antagonist

literally tldr: why would you ever want to make their relationship into anything else when the "wow everyone else here is so strange (mildly lovingly and also with a fair amount of dread and frustration). glad I'm the only normal person here" dynamic is there and 10x funnier than any possible outcome in which neurotic gordon freeman makes out with low res security guard

and also there are literally 3 other deranged individuals ripe for you people's enjoyment. go get them.

[askaceattorney]

Dear E.M.E.W,

No, and I don't believe anyone has to share your disability to relate to them. Chief Mod Edgeworth is also Autistic and relates to my little brother, even though he has PTSD and is a man.

Papa is a man of perfection, so rest assure if I did have any mental or physical disability, he would have had me checked and diagnosed.

- Franziska von Karma

[outismm]

OUTIS send help, Doctor Who is the gift that keeps on giving 😭😭😭 i thought the Toymaker would be the end of it but folks in my Toymaker server made a few jokes about Six. and i had -no idea- about what kind of character Six is. holy FUCK i am in LOVE with this pompous, arrogant asshole 😖💖💖💖💖 he's so cute!!!!! so abrasive!!!! so......PASSIONATE!!!!!! i didn't know he was such a freak!!!! yes yes yes please do rewatch his era because i'm doing it for the first time and having a blast 😂💖

yes,,,, YYYYEEESSSSS. This is perhaps the best development that could have happened. I need you to know how quickly I scrambled downstairs like some sort of Ghoul to try and find the old boxsets and AUGHE!!!!

I FORGOT WHAT AN ABSOLUTE CHARACTER HE IS!!!

He's got such an incredible amount of drama and charisma and wild-eyed charm inside of him, I can't believe how this man has slipped to the back of my mind for so long. Even outside of his borderline regeneration-induced-mania during his first storyline, he's just. such a delight. Colin Baker is having the time of his life delivering every line, and you can TELL

Look at him - what's not to love?

Also, this isn't directly related to our dear multicoloured man, but - thank you for giving me an excuse to Stare Affectionately at Classic Who! There are so many of those delightful quirks and silly set-pieces you can only really find in early 70s-80s sci-fi, sprinkled all throughout, I just,,, ah <3333 it has been so long

OKIE IM RAMBLING BUT >:) EHEHE I cannot wait to see you slip further and further into Doctor Who Fevers. Come yell with/at me anytime, I love seeing ppl experience Classic Who and all the wonderfully wild things it has to offer

[fideidefenswhore]

teenage dream (2023), olivia rodrigo / the spanish princess (2020) / the private lives of the tudors, tracy borman (2016) / the six queens of henry viii (2016) / the vaux passional / the six wives of henry viii (2001) / the lovers who changed history (2014) / blood, sex & royalty (2022) / blood, sex & royalty (2022), gif @fabledenigma / the cross (2014) 

[hazeism]

I understand you Demerzel treating Cleon I like a little poppet is the most fun ever. many tentative and shifting designs.

[livehexmoments]

SO...Here it is. My biggest fanfic yet and for the hex...focusing on a character that had less than 5 minutes of screentime (and died :( ) and here i am shipping him with the revenge hungry bartender and cold hearted groonda (ill come up with a good title for it later) I enjoyed writing and rewriting this fic even though it was painful to get through at times. Is it the best it can be? Probably not FWEGRWEGH Some general cws for character death, mention of nsfw (nothing explicitly shown, but it is implied/mentioned), and drinking/someone getting drunk (lemme know if i missed any!!)

Also no joke, this is 11,100 words and in google docs, it amounts to 29 pages. This is pretty long and splitting up into chapters just didnt feel right so it’s all underneath the “Keep reading”. If you are not prepared to read through the entire thing, i understand completely and hope you have a nice day wherever you are <3. If so, I do hope you enjoy it !! :)!

Rootbeer Tender. 

Personally, Jay never heard of the game until he overheard a bunch of Groondas talk about it. From what he gathered, the game itself was said to be like a janky arcade game that played like it was made by a toddler. The only reason why a bunch of Gameworks employees go there (other than for a job) is because of a quaint little tavern that serves the best root beer around. Jay, finding himself curious, decided to go to the bar himself to see if it held up to that standard. What else was he doing other than cleaning? He could use a nice root beer. The forest loomed over him as he approached the inn. Although the inn looked welcoming, the jankiness and unpolished look made him feel a bit out of place. The lights were dimmed and the moon hung in the woods, omitting an eerie glow. Jay knew it was late and they were probably closed, but this was his only time off. He had to at least try a rootbeer. But as soon as he got to the door, he felt himself getting cold feet. They probably were closed, so why bother whoever’s working there now? As he turned to walk back to the base, he heard the door open behind him. 

Jay turns around to see what looked to be the barkeep, holding the door open with a warm smile. Peering from behind his legs was this weird looking…Groonda? Jay couldn’t tell, but it was hunched over with an annoyed expression on its face. Jay looked anxious as he stuttered,

“Oh I’m terribly sorry. I-I was just- Well, I was just leaving so I’ll come back tomorrow when you’re open-”

The barkeep interrupted, “Leave? After you came all the way from the base? I don’t mind pouring one more glass.”

Jay grinned nervously. While the barkeep’s kindness was something he can appreciate, the idea of making these two work overtime for him? Well that was just rude in Jay’s opinion. 

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but really I should get going. You both look like you need some sleep.” Jay stuttered out as he tried to walk off. Apparently, the barkeep was having none of it and took a step forward to grab Jay by the shoulders with one arm. Jay’s face flushed as the bartender started to lead him into the tavern. 

“Nonsense! Come right in, take a seat, please!” The barkeep paused his movements to look at the smaller man who Jay swore was giving him a dirty look. “Jeremiah, would you mind fetching another barrel from the basement?” The barkeep asked with a warm smile on his face.

Jeremiah nods wordlessly and he heads down into the basement.

Meanwhile, The bartender leads Jay to a stool and he sits down. Jay takes the moment to look around the inn while the bartender gets a glass ready. It was homey. The gramophone in the corner of the room was playing a song that Jay will have stuck in his head for days. The sudden voice of the bartender interrupted his musings,

“So mister, how do you take your rootbeer?” Jay looked over to him. Jeremiah was already back (Jay swore he didn’t hear him come back) and was setting up a barrel on the far side of the room. The bartender was looking at him with a patient smile. Jay quickly glanced away, not used to anyone showing him such patience or kindness.

“I never had a rootbeer before.” He nervously said, rubbing the back of his head.

The bartender looks surprised. “Never had a root beer?!” He exclaimed in shock. Jay nodded, still looking away from him. The barkeep hummed and quickly went over to the barrel. “Well, I’ll just make the First Timer’s special.” 

Before Jay can even ask what that is, he watches in awe as the barkeep makes his drink so fast that by time he slides it over for Jay to catch, Jay misses and the drink falls on the floor. The loud glass shattering makes Jay winces as he fearfully looks over to the bartender who was just staring at him. 

“I-I’m so so sorry! I’ll clean it myself or I can just leave if you want-” His apologies were interrupted by the barkeep laughing loudly. His face flushes in embarrassment as he gets up from his seat to leave. The bartender slows down his laughing to motion Jay to sit back down.

“Oh you’re fine! It was just an accident, no need to be embarrassed. It’s my fault anyway. I keep forgetting sometimes not all my customers are familiar with my game.” The barkeep said sheepishly as he made another drink. Jay sits back down hesitantly, still looking at the mess.

“Do you still want me to clean it?”

“Hm? Oh, of course not! Jeremiah will take care of it.”

Right on cue, Jeremiah is already sweeping up the glass. Jay frowns, looking at the annoyed and tired expression on his face with sympathy. He recalled those late nights where some idiots decided to make a big mess at 2 am and Irving had forced Jay to stay overtime to clean it, making the same expression as Jeremiah’s. The bartender turns around with the remade drink in hand, only to find his patron was helping Jeremiah with the mess, using a nearby mop to clean up the drink. It was a welcome surprise to see Jeremiah seemingly having a conversation with a customer, especially one so skittish and anxious as Jay. Their conversation gets interrupted by the barkeep.

“What game are you from?” The barkeep asked curiously as he put Jay’s drink down where he sat. Both of them looked at him. 

“Well…I’m just the janitor at the Gameworks base, sir. I wasn’t created from a game initially.” Jay stated, finishing up his cleaning and handing the mop to Jeremiah to put away. He sat down at his seat.

“Really? Well, I’m shocked.” The barkeep sounded genuine. He pulled up a stool from behind him to sit across from Jay. “And here I thought all characters were made for some type of game.”

“That’s kind of true? I mean, we all get used for games eventually. But in the meantime, some characters just work around the base. I-I have a friend who’s just a mechanic. She just makes sure things work right in games and anywhere else.” Jay took a sip of his drink. His eyes widened as the sweet flavor of the root beer covered his taste buds. He takes another sip, this time a bit longer, just to savor it. The barkeep chuckles at the sight of it, glad that he was able to satisfy another customer. 

“So? Was it good?”

“Better than good! This is the sweetest drink I’ve ever had in my life. Probably the best root beer I’ve ever had too, and it’s my first time drinking one.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it!” The barkeep says with a proud grin. “You know, I just realized we never even properly introduced ourselves.”

“Oh- uh, my bad, I-”

“Friend, don’t worry about it! My name is Rootbeer Reginald, but please just call me Reggie. The little guy over there,” he pointed towards Jeremiah, who was putting away the mop and cleaning supplies. “His name is Jeremiah, that’s my janitor.” 

Jay tilted his head a bit at Reggie, who looked at him with a smile.

“...Your first name is Rootbeer?”

The smile faltered a bit as Reggie laughed nervously.

“No, not really. It’s just what I’m called. The only thing I serve in this tavern is root beer, you know?”

“Yes, but…You just said your name is “Rootbeer Reginald” so excuse me if I find it hard to believe you. Also, it sounds like something Lionel would make up for a character name.” Jay snickered watching the bartender’s face flushed in embarrassment and annoyance. 

“Well! It doesn’t matter because I insist you just call me Reggie. Enough about my name, what’s yours?”

“Jay.”

“Jay…that’s a nice name.” The barkeep holds his hand towards Jay, who shakes it. 

“It’s better than having RootBeer as a first name.” Jay says in a jokey tone, feeling the little root beer in his system. He expects Reggie to get furious, but is a bit shocked to see him look annoyed but still smiling. 

“Oh knock it off! At least I have a last name.”

“Which is also a first name..”

Reginald and Jay laugh together at the absurdity of it. As the night goes on, Jay finds himself becoming more comfortable. Reginald was a great conversationalist, listening to Jay with a warm smile. Jeremiah wasn’t too bad either. The little guy was sitting with them, quietly listening along and only talking unless spoken to. Jay made a mental note to maybe get to know him better when he came to the tavern again.

...

As Jay finished his drink, he felt a bit sad that he had to leave. If he wasn’t there by sunrise, Irving would kill him. 

“Again, I’m sorry I came here so late. I hope I didn’t screw up your sleep schedule or anything.” Jay watched as Reggie waved him off, finishing his cleaning and putting the stool back.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I forgot how nice it is just to have some company. Not to say you’re not good company, Jeremiah!” Reggie laughs as Jeremiah rolls his eyes. Jay laughs along, a warm smile on his usually depressed face. As he waved goodbye to them and bid them good night, Jay was sure this wouldn’t be the last he would see of them.

“I hate Irving so much. Oh ‘mir, I wish I can just get reassigned to your game so I wouldn’t have to deal with his fucking BULLSHIT!!” Jay yelled as he gulped down his fifth drink. Reggie sighed as he cleaned a dirty glass and watched Jay, feeling sorry for the guy.

“Language, Jay.” Jeremiah said in a monotone voice, taking a seat on the bar next to Jay. 

Jay was clearly shitfaced, having drank about 5 root beers in one go. His face was flushed red with his hair looking messed up. When he finished, he slammed the glass on the bar, almost breaking it. 

“Sorry, sorry, I-I’m just so tired. I don’t understand how you two can stand the asshole. Bossing us around, treating us like garbage, he doesn’t care. He never did.” Jay hiccuped, tears running down his face as he choked back drunken sobs. Jeremiah rubbed his back to comfort him. Reggie took the glass away from Jay, cleaning it already.

“Can-Can I have another?”

“No. I’m cutting you off, Jay. As a friend, I will not allow you to die of root beer poisoning.” Reggie puts the now cleaned glass away and walks over to the other side of the bar, sitting next to Jay on the other side. “And I think Irving…I think he’s just stressed. He has a lot on his plate and I’m sure he cares. I don’t think it’s right he’s taking it out on you though, but I can talk to him about it. He visits sometimes.”

Reggie’s smile fades as Jay turns to look straight at him. 

“You don’t- You just don’t- What the hell is wrong with you?! Can’t you comprehend that Irving doesn’t like us?” Jay laughs a bit manically as Reggie frowns. Jeremiah behind him growls a bit, becoming defensive. 

“Reginald just sees the good in people, Jay. Nothing wrong with that.”

“But you of all people should know! I…”

Jay looks at both of them, and suddenly grabs their hands. 

“I just want what’s best for you two. You’re the only friends I have and I’m terrified of ending up alone.” As Jay is saying this, he is glancing back and forth at Reggie and Jeremiah, gripping their hands tighter. While Jeremiah looks confused with his face red, Reggie smiles gently and rubs Jay’s knuckles. 

“Your concern is appreciated, Jay. I assure you that I’m not mad, you’re drunk and stressed and sometimes you gotta let it out! I know I do that sometimes.” Reggie laughs softly. Jay can feel Jeremiah squeeze his hand a bit. “But Jeremiah and I aren’t going anywhere. You’re our friend, Jay. You’ll always have a place here at the inn. Anytime. Maybe I’ll convince Irving to let you work here. I could always use more help around here. Certainly would lessen the load, right Jeremiah?”

Jeremiah spoke up, “Yes. It would be nice to have a second pair of hands around.” 

Jay sniffled as he stood up from his chair, a shaky and bittersweet smile on his face.

“Thank you. I mean it, truely, thank you. I have- I have to leave. See you tomorrow?” 

Reggie noticed how much he wobbled as he stood and looked at him concerned.

“Are you sure you can even make it back? I’m happy to let you sleep in the cabin for the night.”

“I’m fineee, better than fine. I feel great. You two always make me feel better. With your kindness and…no nonsense attitude.” Jay giggles at that for some reason. He notices how he was still holding their hands, clearly not letting go. But instead of just letting go and apologizing like he normally would, his drunken mind decided to embrace the homoerotic nature of it all and kiss their cheeks instead. Letting go of their hands, he walks out of the tavern, yelling good night to them and saying he loves them while laughing. What Jay didn’t see was their flushed faces and sudden realization that maybe their friendship wasn’t so platonic afterall. 

...

Several years have passed since that night.

Jay sighed as he cleaned the floor of the temple, staring at the reflection of the shiny clean floor.

He didn’t know why his mind decided to drift back to his memories of the inn. Hearing the songs on the gramophone, the smell of rootbeer, and the laughter of the barkeep after Jay told him a joke.

He really did miss Reggie. His warm smile. How he always knew what to say and what advice to give. How he would so gently put his hand on Jay’s shoulder after crying and complaining about a long day of work.

Even Jeremiah, for as creepy and cold the little guy could be, there was something in there. They both could relate to the horrid treatment they faced at the hands of Gamefuna (especially in regards to Irving). There were moments, Jay recalled, where Jeremiah would let down his cold exterior to reveal a much softer side of him. One that would grab your hand and never let go. One who concerns himself over every little thing, worries over your safety and well being and-

Jay’s eyes widened at his sudden realization. He was in love with them, wasn’t he? Was he that repressed he couldn’t acknowledge it? Why did he hesitate for so long? If he had just confessed sooner, if he just wasn't a coward, would things be different? Would he not feel so alone anymore?

The truth is, Jay thought as his hands began to tremble a bit, that it wouldn’t have mattered. They vanished long before Jay could even rationalize his true feelings towards them. Apparently moved to a different game but he didn’t believe that. Not after Irving told him with an almost relieved and cruel face. And what difference would it make if he told? It wouldn’t have lasted, in fact it would have made everything worse. Imagine confessing the two people who made him the happiest in the world and they accepted him, or rejected him in a soft way. Jay knows for a fact Reggie is far too kind to reject someone coldly. It’s not like him to be cruel. Jeremiah would go along with whatever Reggie would say, so maybe he had a shot. Who knows but the point is it would always be the same fate. Happiness then nothing. 

There was no stopping Rootbeer Tender’s shut down, complete erasure from Lionel’s portfolio. Why? Because he was the first, the less polished game? What a sick joke. All of Lionel’s games were unpolished travesties, Rootbeer Tender was no different. The game…no, not just the game. Reggie and Jeremiah did not deserve whatever Irving did to them. Jay should have been there. He could have tried to prevent it. Even if he couldn’t, he could have given one more goodbye, he could have-

Jay’s thoughts halted when he saw droplets of water on the floor. He shakily touched his face to feel some wetness on his cheeks. He was crying. He quickly started to wipe his eyes and sniff up his snot when he heard the door opening. Thankfully it wasn’t Chandrelle, but the great sage doing his routine checks. The sage stopped in front of Jay.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just allergies.”

“Ah, I see.”

The sage quickly looked around to make sure everything was in order and walked away to the door. All the while, Jay’s memories of the inn and the two owners he adored kept haunting him. All he can do is mop the same spot, over and over, lost in the images of happier days and the regrets he had. A voice suddenly spoke up, it was the sage.

“Jay?”

“Hm?”

“...You missed a spot near the altar.”

And with that the Sage left and closed the door. Jay threw his mop on the floor and softly sobbed in his hands, standing alone in the temple.

...

It was almost ironic how much Lazarus reminded Jay of himself that day. Crying alone in the temple where no one would hear him, wishing to go back to the days of old. Yet never realizing how the past was not much better than the present. Jay watched Lazarus from the slightly opened door of his room, softly sobbing in his hands and trembling as every sob choked out of his throat. He didn’t mean to stumble upon such a private moment. He was just trying to get away from Junior, who had been arguing with him all day about wanting to handle the explosives (which Jay knows from experience, will only end in disaster). 

As he was heading to his own room, he heard the sobs and had to peek in. As much as Jay would want to comfort him, he knew better. Lazarus was a very private person. Rarely expressing any emotion other than a depressed frown and emotionless eyes. He never let anyone in his room nor did he talk about how he felt about things, just went along with whatever Jay or Junior said. It concerned Jay how loyal and unquestioning Lazarus could be, but supposed it was because of his days as a knight. It was hard to recode an entire character after all, or at least he heard Irving complain about it one time. Still, Jay decided to softly sigh and attempt to leave him alone. 

Unfortunately, the door creaked just loud enough and opened only enough for Lazarus to stop and look up at Jay. Jay could see his horrified face staring at him, silently pleading with him not to tell and leave. At this moment, Jay could have walked up to him and comforted him, telling him that it’s all going to be okay, they’ll get out eventually. But what good would lying do? He wasn’t even sure Lazarus’s plan of going to that “Six Pint Inn'' would even work. However, as much as Jay’s instincts told him to walk away and avoid an awkward confrontation, staring at the poor ex-knight with sickly pale green skin and red eyes made him realize that taking the coward’s path was a horrible option. So he opted to compromise. 

Slowly entering the room, he pulled out a clean rag from his armor (he always carried one or two around to clean the blood from his suit) and handed it to Lazarus. He softly sighed as Lazarus took the rag with an unreadable expression. 

“If you ever need to talk, uh, about anything, I’ll listen. I won’t tell Junior anything, it’s none of his business.” There was an awkward pause. Lazarus simply stared at him and Jay had to look away, turning around to head out the room. Before Jay can leave, he heard Lazarus speak up softly.

“Thank you. You’re a good man, Jay.” 

Jay glanced at Lazarus, who he noticed was giving a small smile as he wiped his eyes. Jay smiled back at him and nodded, leaving the room. It was a small gesture, but it was enough. Mir’, Jay hoped it was enough. 

...

Walking through the forest path felt familiar to Jay. Following behind Lazarus, he couldn’t help but to look around, desperately trying to remember if he had ever walked down this path. The storm raging on didn’t help with this process. As the thunder boomed and lightning cracked down from the sky, his thought process stopped and he jumped a little. Junior, who was walking beside him, laughed.

“Aw, what’s the matter? You’re scared of a little storm?”

“No! I was just startled, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Junior said with a smug smirk.

Lazarus barely turned around to engage in their shenanigans. He gave a small glance before motioning them to pick up the pace. Jay frowned at this. He always worried about Lazarus. Poor guy was never the same after what happened in Secrets of Legendaria. 

After a bit of walking, Lazarus stopped in front of the inn.

“..We’re here.”

While Junior was complaining about how small the inn actually was and Lazarus was knocking on the door, Jay’s eyes widened in realization. 

This was Rootbeer Tender. It had to be. He turned to his right to see the cabin, a few paces away. There was no mistaking it. That was Reggie’s cabin, clearly seeing better days, but still intact. Could this mean that he’s…alive? Was he truly replaced by someone else?

Lazarus’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Jay!” He turned to look at him.

“Come on, the door’s open.” “...Right.”

Jay took a deep breath and adjusted his helmet. He entered the inn.

The place was far different to what he remembered of it. The rows of bars were gone, replaced with only one in the center of the room. The most striking change was the giant mirror behind the bar. But it was disgusting, the dust made it impossible to see a clear reflection. He noticed even more little details, like the vending machine on the far right of the room, and even a door that leads to what looked to be a kitchen. A kitchen was the strangest thing to Jay. He remembered how bad Reggie’s cooking was, even if the man himself would never admit it was. Speaking of Reggie, he did notice the portrait of him and Jeremiah. Jay would never say it outloud but he couldn’t help it, the portrait just reminded him of how handsome Reggie was (and Jeremiah, but he couldn’t get a good look at him. He almost laughed to see how the photo cut him off due to his height).

Lazarus and Junior were already making themselves known. Junior walks over to Weasel Kid, interrupting an one sided conversation between him and the weird old man in survivor gear. Jay watched as Junior said something so funny apparently it made the kid laugh. Out of all people, he did not expect to see Weasel Kid end up here. Lazarus was sitting on the stool, talking to someone he couldn’t see from where he was standing. So he glanced around to see if anyone else was here.

He saw what looked like a fighting character. Jay had to think for a moment to remember the fighter’s name. Bryce, Jay remembered, that was his name. He remembered his one fight with Steambot Willy. He never got the chance to really talk to him during that fight or when he saw Bryce walking around base. But from the memories of Bryce waving to him every time they acknowledged each other’s existence, he always seemed nice enough. He looked to be talking quietly to Chandrelle. So that’s what happened to them, Jay thought to himself. He can see why Lazarus was so adamant on going here. Chandrelle looked about the same as Jay remembered. He’s almost grateful that she hasn't recognized him or Junior yet. Junior especially, remembering that talk with Lazarus and him confessing what she did to Moji. Jay never understood why Lazarus would still see any good in her, but Jay supposes that being her swordsman has something to do with it. 

Jay finally decides to stop standing in the entrance, as his feet were starting to hurt and he didn’t want to draw any attention to himself. He took a seat next to where Bryce and Chandrelle were standing, keeping his back turned to them to watch Lazarus talk to the bartender. The bartender was-

. . .

Jay’s eyes widened as he recognized him. Rootbeer Regianld himself. For Mir’s sake, what happened to him? He looked much older than Jay could ever have imagined, with wrinkles on his face and dark shadows under his eyes. He was supposed to be a year or two younger than Jay. They joked about that a lot. His hair was receding a bit and he noticed the wheelchair Reggie was sitting in. Jay looked at the portrait on the wall and back at the barkeep, wondering why the years were seemingly so cruel to him. Jay hoped to whatever creator was behind the screen that Jeremiah didn’t look much worse. Jay’s thoughts were interrupted by Junior’s impatient yelling.

“JAY! Man, what the hell is wrong with you?!”

Jay realized that all eyes were on him. The confused stares of patrons, Lazarus’s concerned stare, Junior’s frustrated look, and Reggie’s emotionless face made Jay more and more uncomfortable. Jay shook his head and stood straighter.

“S-Sorry, what were you saying?”

Reginald spoke up and Jay noticed how much rougher his voice sounded.

“I was saying that you three are needed in the attic. Take the elevator. Weasel Kid will be there to guide you, isn’t that right?”

“Whatever.”

Jay followed the three onto the elevator. There was a moment before the elevator moved where he and Reggie locked eyes. Neither one broke it as the elevator slowly moved up. It was clear that Reginald recognized him yet Jay can sense a disbelief in his face as well. The thoughts stuck with Jay, long after the elevator reached the 2nd floor and the group followed Weasel to the attic.

...

Jay never recalled the old inn even having an attic, let alone a second floor. His way up to the attic was filled with him looking around the decor and rooms the place had. Reginald and Jeremiah never had good taste in decoration, let alone ones that fit, but for what it was, it was decent. Though, Jay probably would have done a better job. He was grateful that the way up was an awkward silence, although Junior and Weasel would mutter amongst themselves, discussing whatever that didn’t concern Jay. It was when they reached the attic that Jay came across another familiar face. Although he was in robes and his face was hidden, Jay had no doubts that it was Jeremiah. There weren’t a lot of small, hunched over people with a robe such as his that Jay knew. As Jeremiah turned around to face them, he noticed a small patch on the robe. Did something happen to him..? Those thoughts would have to wait as Jeremiah spoke,

“Ah…So you finally arrived. Early, I might add. I thought we agreed to debrief tomorrow, Lazarus?”

“The sooner, the better. I want to get this over with.” There was a small pause as Jeremiah let out a pleased hum.

“I understand. I think you made a good call. Now, let us go over the plan.”

Jeremiah unceremoniously took off the robe. He looked pretty much the same as he used to, only with a similar patch on his suit. Jay breathed a small sigh of relief. He didn’t know how he would react if Jeremiah looked as bad as Reggie did. As everyone gathered around the table, Jay noticed how he stared at him for a brief second only to start discussing the plan like nothing happened.

It seemed like a good plan. Everyone does their part, they steal the artifact, get out, then bomb the base and everyone inside. Irving would die (maybe? He didn’t sound so sure about it) and they would be back at the inn safely. Weasel would find his own way and sneak into the sewers, carrying the bomb and blowing up column A when the time was right. Junior would clear out any soldiers to prevent a flank, Lazarus would help when necessary, and Jay was in charge of disarming the security system. Due to Lazarus’s insistence on doing the debriefing early, it only made sense to enact the plan that early morning. While the plan seemed self explanatory, Jay couldn’t help but to have a bad feeling about it. Those feelings only worsened when Jeremiah started to discuss the disclaimers. 

For one, there was no backing out. It was either you’re in or not, and if anyone makes an attempt to leave, they would die. By Jeremiah’s hands or any other brave soul willing to do it. He also made clear that this plan was not flawless. There was a likelihood that any of them could die during the operation. Jay wasn’t surprised to see Lazarus agree to all of this so quickly. No hesitation as he nods and shakes Jeremiah’s hand. Jay admits that Lazarus was someone who would rather be dead than to be sent on another mission again. Jay couldn’t help but to agree, even if he was absolutely terrified of dying. Junior was on board with this whole plan as well. Of course, he probably ignored the warnings and just wanted to cause as much damage to Gameworks as possible. Jay heard Junior loudly tease Weasel Kid to “not fuck this up and kill everyone” as the two were leaving for the elevator. Jay was about to follow them and Lazarus out, but heard Jeremiah call out for him.

“Hang on. You, Jay, I need to discuss something with you.”

Lazarus glanced back at Jay who shrugged and motioned to go on without him.

Jay returned to the table, sitting across from Jeremiah who was staring at him intently. There was an awkward silence. 

“So, it’s been a while.” Jay broke the silence while wringing his hands together. Jeremiah took a deep breath, his age was becoming apparent as Jay saw how tired the man really looked.

“Yes. It has. What are you doing here?”

Jay shrugged and responded, “I was resigned to this game.” He paused for a second, realizing it wasn’t 100% true, so he rephased it. “Well, it was more of me wanting to be in it for the excitement.” Jay let out a bitter laugh.

Jeremiah looked surprised. “Out of all games, you chose this one? You’re a janitor, Jay. Not a soldier.”

“I’m beginning to realize that.”

There is another pause. Jay looked away from Jeremiah, content with staring at the ground. He didn’t want him to see how he was almost crying. 

“I thought you both died. I mourned for you two.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“What happened to you and Reggie?”

Jeremiah started to tap his clawed finger on the table, a bit of a pained look on his face.

“I..I wish not to discuss it without Reginald’s consent.”

“I see. Well, it’s good to see you’re both alive and well. I should get going.”

As Jay was about to get up and leave this awkward situation, Jeremiah stopped him, this time grabbing his arm quickly.

“I did not say that this discussion was over, Jay.”

“What is it you want to discuss?”

“The plan. I want you to make sure you’re in.”

That made Jay look back at Jeremiah. He laughed awkwardly, becoming nervous under Jeremiah’s stern stare.

“I…I don’t think I should be a part of it. There’s no room for cowards and well, I haven’t changed in that regard.”

“Jay. You were never a coward.”

“I find that very hard to believe.” Jeremiah looked a bit frustrated. He climbed on top of the table to gently grab Jay’s shoulders.

“Listen to me. You are not a coward. In fact, we-...I need you for this plan. You’re the only other person with only knowledge of the base and its systems. I promise you will be safe so long as you follow everything to a tee, I’ll make sure of it.”

A sudden static noise from Jeremiah’s pocket interrupts the conversation. As he excuses himself and answers, Jay reflects on what Jeremiah told him. While it was nice to hear Jeremiah be so confident about him, his self doubt was already asking why that was. He was a coward, plenty of times he ran away from a fight when his comrades were doing all the fighting. Even back then, he was too afraid of rejection to even- 

No, Jay grimaced and shaked his head as he shook the thought out of his head. He stopped his thoughts from wandering any further when he saw Jeremiah put the device back in his pocket and looked at Jay.

“That was Reginald. He requests that you spend the night with us in the cabin.”

Jay furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why?”

“It’s far too dangerous to fly in this weather. The others already have their rooms, but we have a miscalculation in how many people we would have to room. Besides, Reggie insists you come to the cabin. He would like to speak with you as well.” All of a sudden, Jeremiah grabbed his hand, which flustered Jay. His hand was freezing, it felt like he was holding a corpse’s hand more than a living person’s. “It’s nothing bad. It would be better than sleeping outside and it will be just us. Like old times.” Jeremiah said in a soft tone, softly smiling at Jay. Jay had seen Jerry smile genuinely before yet this one felt a bit forced. But Jay didn’t seem to care. In the moment, seeing Jeremiah’s smile only flustered him more as old feelings started to come back.

“...Alright.” Jay reluctantly said after glancing back and forth at the ground and Jeremiah’s face.

With that, Jeremiah leads him to the secret elevator and they head down to the lobby, which was completely empty. Jay noticed as they exited the inn that Jeremiah never let go of his hand, content with leading him to the cabin. The warm lights of its inside softly shining in the distance contrasted with the dread Jay felt in his stomach. 

...

When Jay entered the cabin, it looked pretty much the same as it used to. Although there were some little details that looked new to Jay, it all felt familiar to him which was comforting. Yet, the presence of Reggie staring at the blank computer screen made the atmosphere more ominous. When Jeremiah came in and shut the door behind them, he turned to look at the two, wheeling his chair around to face them fully. The squeaking of the wheels made Jay cringe. Reggie stared for a moment, specifically at Jay, before giving him a small smile.

“Well I’ll be. It really is you. How have you been?”

Reggie’s smile and tone just felt wrong to Jay. It just didn’t feel…genuine. That’s what Reggie always was: Genuine. “I’ve been worse…What about you? Have you been doing alright?”

“Not at all!” Reggie gave a sharp and bitter laugh. Jay frowned at his response, realizing with seeing him in the wheelchair how dumb the question really sounded. Reginald continued, “Oh, I haven’t been alright in a long, long time. Neither of us have been. Isn’t that right Jeremiah?”

Jay almost forgot Jeremiah was there for how silent he was. Jeremiah climbed onto the arm of the wheelchair and clung onto it like a hawk with a trainer. 

“Yes. It has been a difficult time for us.”

Jay looked at both of them with sympathy. There was an awkward silence between the three of them. 

“But enough of this pity talk. It’s far too depressing for this reunion. Afterall, it’s been so long since the three of us got to be together like this! Would you mind grabbing those drinks behind you for us? And pull up a chair! Relax for a while! It’ll be just like old times.” Reggie broke the silence with a cheery tone and grin, gesturing towards the lone chair and table with glasses filled behind Jay. Jay took the chair and placed it in front of Reggie and Jeremiah. When he did sit down in front of them, passing the drinks along and taking his own, there was still an uncomfortable tension between them all. This didn’t feel like “old times”. Old times would be them laughing at jokes they made and complaining about their jobs. The old times would have Jay listening to Reggie and Jeremiah talk to each other, engrossed in their own conversation. Jay never minded. He knew how dedicated the two were to each other. He always felt grateful that they chose him to be a witness to their closer and more intimate moments. But the attention was all on him now and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Jay took small sips of his drink as he watched the other two across from him looked as uncomfortable as he was. 

“So… How come you’re in a wheelchair?” The moment Jay asked that question, Reggie frowned and he clenched the wheelchair’s arm.

“I’d rather not discuss it.” 

“Reggie. I know it sounds like a sensitive topic-”

“If you know, then why are we discussing it?” Reggie forced a smile when saying that. For some reason, that forced smile was Jay’s final straw. Jay huffed in frustration.

“Because I thought, for all these years, that you two died. The least you can do is tell me what happened.”

“Again, I’d rather not. I’m sorry that our disappearance concerned you so much, however-” Jay suddenly interrupted Reggie in a fit of anger, shouting at them.  

“Concerned?! I was more than concerned about you. I mourned for you. I cared so much about you two. Honestly, you two were the only friends I had. I just want to know what’s going on. This whole plan and…everything, it’s not like you two.”

Jay grabbed Reggie’s hand. Reggie flinched, which was concerning to Jay. But his attention was on him and not Jeremiah.

“No matter what you tell me, it will never leave this cabin. I promise you.” Jay grabs Jeremiah’s hand as well. Cold and small as it always was, yet his grip was tight. He can feel Jeremiah’s sharp nails dig into his skin. He ignored the pain and continued to push, “So can you two please tell me what happened to the old Reggie and Jeremiah? What changed?”

Reginald took a deep breath, glancing over to Jeremiah who was matching his tired expression. He stared into Jay’s concerned eyes, gripping his hand tightly.

“...Lionel did this to me.” Reggie confessed with a serious tone, not breaking eye contact with Jay. Jay couldn’t help but look confused. Lionel was a jerk, sure, but to this degree?

“Lionel? But-”

“He wanted this, Jay. He wanted me gone, but didn’t want any blood on his hands. So he sent Irving to do the dirty work of getting rid of me. I couldn’t believe it myself. Why would he want to get rid of me? He loved rootbeer and most importantly, he loved me. Or so I thought.” Jay noticed how Reginald was slightly shaking as he spoke. His hand was on his face, looking like he was desperately trying to keep composure. Jeremiah was already by his side, using his other arm to wrap around Reggie’s shoulders (or at least as far as his short arms can reach). Jay kept quiet, intently listening as he continued to hold their hands. Reggie continued,

“I refused to leave and well… I suppose Irving “respected” that decision.” He gestured towards his legs, letting out a bitter laugh. Jay’s eyes widen in horror as he puts the pieces together. It wasn’t out of character for Irving to be cruel, but this? This was on a whole other level. Reggie treated Irving with nothing but kindness and this is what he gets? It made Jay’s stomach turn. 

“Have you ever felt betrayal, Jay?” Reginald asked Jay who snapped out of his angered thoughts.

“I-I don’t think so.” 

“It’s the most painful feeling you will ever experience. Far worse than any physical torment, especially when your legs get broken into tiny bits of bones that stick out like knives. You lay on the floor, writhing in pain, thinking “Why would they do this to me? Was I not good enough? Was it my fault?”. And it is their fault, not mine! Never mine! I loved him! It’s all their fault. IT’S ALL HIS FAULT-” 

As Reggie begins to yell in anger, he stops when he feels Jeremiah squeeze his shoulder, looking upset. He takes a deep breath as Jeremiah continues for him. “Lionel wanted to look like a game dev prodigy in the eyes of the unsuspecting public. Super Weasel Kid being his first game looks better than Rootbeer Tender. Such mediocrity being praised, it sickens me. How can a game like that excuse the denial of our existence? For our suffering? Can you even fathom such a thing?” Jeremiah said all of that with such venom, Jay almost wondered why Weasel Kid was even allowed in the inn. He continued, “Irving. For what he did to Reginald, he must suffer.”

“Ah, Jeremiah,” Reginald interrupted gently, “We are getting a bit ahead of ourselves.” “Wh-What does that mean? Is that what this whole plan is about? To get revenge on Irving?” Jay asked, slowly putting together the pieces. Reginald only gave Jay a dry smile. 

“Ah. Well, you are about half right. I want Irving and Lionel dead.”

Jay let go of both of their hands, his face morphing into shock and horror. He stared at both of them in disbelief.

“Dead? You want them dead? That’s-” Jay laughs at how absurd it sounded. “Reggie, that’s nearly impossible. Lionel is on the other side of the screen! And Irving well-”

“Jay, I know this. That’s what this whole plan is for! Do you take me as a fool?” Reggie accused Jay with a bitter tone. Jay couldn’t help but to think if this really was Rootbeer Reggie and Jeremiah, his janitor. They certainly weren’t acting like them. The Jeremiah he knew was cold, but not malicious and hateful like the one in front of him. And the Reggie he knew was kind. Someone who would forgive too easily and always had a bright smile on his face. The man in front of him was not him, he was just someone with a similar face worn on like a distorted mask. His eyes filled with grief and darkness and the forced smiles he gave only made Jay more and more uncomfortable. 

“I-I don’t- of course not, Reggie, but, this- I mean-” Jay kept stuttering as he fell under the pressure of their intense stares. He was almost grateful that Reggie interrupted him.

“There will be a ritual performed using the Artifact. It will be performed once all the necessary participants have been retrieved.”

“Participants?”

“I have been collecting those who have been wronged by Lionel and Irving,” Jeremiah answered. “For the ritual to work, it requires six player characters, the blessing of a human player, and the Artifact.”

“The Hex…” Reggie said with a manic grin. “The Hex will allow us access to the real world. Once then, I will kill Lionel myself and this will all be over. I can finally be at peace.” 

“And…And what about Irving? How do you plan on going about that?”

Jeremiah, who was silent throughout Reggie’s explanation, spoke up, “The explosion from the bomb should be enough to kill him.” 

“And if it doesn’t?”

There was an awkward silence between them as Jeremiah and Reggie glanced at each other.

“We did not account for that.” Jeremiah awkwardly confessed, clearing his throat.

“But!” Reggie said loudly before Jay can panickally question how they could possibly miss accounting for a failed murder attempt on the guy who can order their deletion in seconds. “I’m sure that will not be an issue. The plan has made it this far, there is no way it will fail now. Things have fallen into place far too much for it to fail now.”

“Ah, but of course, there is just one thing that is a bit of a concern to this operation.”

“And what’s that?”

“You. It’s you.”

“How am I a concern? I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone about this. And Jeremiah must have told you that I want nothing to do with the breaking in.” Jeremiah and Reggie glanced at each other. It looked like they knew something that Jay didn’t, which made Jay squirm in his seat.

“Ah, well, that’s the issue. You’re the only person I trust with handling security.”

“Reggie, you can’t be serious. I can’t do it. I’m not going to do it. I’m sorry Reginald, and-and Jeremiah, but no! I’m too scared to do it.”

As Jay got up from his seat, Reggie grabbed his arm tightly, hurting Jay a little. 

“Jay. Please. I need you to do this. I…I know there’s a chance you won’t make it out alive, I won’t lie. But I swear to you, it’s a small chance. I wouldn’t be here begging you if I knew you wouldn’t survive.” 

Jay refused to look at them. Every instinct in Jay was telling him to run. They were going to send on a dangerous mission with a guarantee that he could very well die. Was it really worth it to escape Vicious Galaxy? Even more so, was it worth it for…them? 

...

Images of better days flashed in Jay’s head as did the old feelings he desperately avoided. As much as he didn’t want to die and would rather be a coward, he found that he just didn’t have it in him. He found himself glancing at the untouched drinks, still by their chairs. 

He remembered when Reginald told him that he didn’t even like drinking rootbeer. 

“Really?! You’re telling me that whole job, which is just making and serving rootbeer, the establishment you work at, hell! Even your name!! And you don’t even like to drink it?” The voice of a younger Jay played in his mind. He heard Reginald laugh as did Jeremiah’s soft chuckle.

“Nope!” The younger and cheerier voice of Reginald admitted. “I was never a fan of anything sweet. That’s Jeremiah. I have more of a sour tooth. In fact, I can eat a whole lemon and not pucker once.”

“You’re just screwing with me, Reggie.”

“I swear, I’m not! Give me a lemon, I’ll prove it right now.”

Jay chuckled at the serious tone Reggie had.

“But seriously, I have to ask: If you don’t like drinking it, why do you make it? Is it because you’re forced to?”

“Forced? Oh, I’m not forced to do it.” He remembered how Reggie paused for a second. “Well, maybe a little,” He said with a light laugh. “But I don’t mind. You know why, Jay? Because it makes Lionel happy. It makes my patrons happy. And it makes you happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

...

Before Jay can even process it, his mind shifted to another scene. It was a small moment with just him and Jeremiah. Reginald wasn’t there when Jay arrived late that night, apparently having gone through a busy day and retiring for the night. Jeremiah stayed behind, having cleaned everything and was patiently waiting for Jay’s arrival. In retrospect, Jay always appreciated the moments when it was just them alone. Jay always felt like he never knew Jeremiah as well as he did with Reginald. The little guy was just someone who didn’t share much about himself and always seemed cold and distant. So as the two had some rootbeer Reggie left behind for them to share, they talked quietly amongst themselves. But this stood out to Jay because of one simple question:

“Why do you listen to Reginald?”

Jeremiah looked at Jay oddly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, and I’m not saying he’s like Irving or a bad boss, but…Jeremiah, if Reginald told you to jump off a bridge, would you?”

“Of course.” Jeremiah answered with no hesitation. 

“See! Exactly what I mean! You take every word that man says like it’s a commandment. Why?” 

“I love him.”

There was an awkward silence between them. Jay remembered how a bit crushed he was hearing that. He was just gaining some attraction towards them and hearing that just felt like any chance he had was thrown out the window. It never made him want to leave, strangely enough, but only increased his want of becoming closer. He heard Jeremiah continue, “Your example of the bridge was misleading. Reginald would never ask that of me. He would never make me do anything that would lead me to unavoidable pain or death. I would volunteer that on my own volition if it is needed. Wouldn’t you do the same for someone you care about?”

...

The two memories lingered as he snapped back into the present. Reggie’s hand was still gripping his arm and he could hear Jeremiah talking in the background. Jay shakily sighs, finally making up his mind and already regretting it. However, he wasn’t doing it for him. 

It was for them.

“...I’ll do it.” Jay felt his voice quiver as Reggie’s tight grip disappeared and he sat back down on the chair. He looked at Reggie and Jeremiah, both of which looked a bit surprised.

“You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you.” Reggie’s gentle tone and soft voice made Jay’s heart skip a beat. It didn’t help that Jeremiah had reached out to hold his hand tenderly. Jay knew for a fact going on this mission would be one of his biggest regrets, he might not even make it out alive for mir’s sake. Still, he justified his decision by the relief and joy it brought to the two people he loved.

Reginald reached down for his neglected drink as did Jeremiah, both of them raising the drinks for a toast. Jay quickly grabbed his, realizing what was going on. Reggie cleared his throat, “A toast for us and for the plan. My revenge will finally be brought to fruition. And it’s thanks to you two.” Jay clinked his glass with them and took a drink. It was as sweet as he remembered. He almost laughed at seeing Reggie trying to hide his disgust at the sweet taste, only taking a small drink. It seemed time had flown by so quickly as the three were talking and laughing like they used to. Jay had even challenged Reggie to an arm wrestle, bragging a bit about how he certainly got stronger from being in Vicious Galaxy. Even though Jay lost, to see the two look happy and chatting amongst themselves like old times made it all worth it. But the panic soon kicked in as he recalled that he would be leaving in the morning. Most likely not returning at all. Reggie and Jeremiah sensed Jay’s dread radiating off of him, stopping their conversation to look concerned at him. 

“Jay? Are you alright?” Reggie asked with a worried tone. Jay looked at them frightfully, his mind becoming frenzied. Yet, there was one thing he knew he had to do.

“I-Look. I know you keep telling me that it’s going to go fine tomorrow and I’ll come back safe, but I just can’t believe that. And so if this is my last night alive, then I can’t take this to my grave.”

“What are you talking about, Jay?” Jeremiah asked in a cautious tone, becoming a bit apprehensive at Jay’s panicked state. Jay took a shaky breath, kneeling in front of the wheelchair on the floor. He barely made eye contact with either of them. He put his hand on Reggie’s knee.

“I love you. Oh ‘Mir, I love you both so much.” Jay felt wetness on his cheeks and his throat tightening but he kept going. “I have for years. If I only knew how little time we had together, I would have gotten over this sooner. I’m such a coward.

And if you don’t love me back, if either of you don’t, that’s fine. I can accept that. Hate me if you want even. I only wish for this to not be my last regret. And-..Also-, I mean-”

“Jay.” Reggie’s voice suddenly interrupts Jay's confession. He hesitantly looks up at them, expecting rejection from both. What Jay did not expect was to feel the gentle touch of two very different hands on both of his cheeks. A gloved one that was warm and a small cold one with his nails slightly poking him. Both staring at him lovingly. Jay’s face turned as red as his nose. 

“We would never hate you. In fact, I speak for Jeremiah and myself that we felt the same way towards for as long as you have.” Reginald whispered while caressing his face. As much as Jay felt his heart soar and he wanted so badly to burst in joy, Jay couldn’t help but to question that last part.

“I..Wait. Did-Did you two know? This whole time?!”

“Weeellll…” Reginald laughed awkwardly while Jeremiah looked away, clearly a bit embarrassed. “Jeremiah suspected. He did mention it to me a couple times but I wasn’t sure if it was the right call to bring it up. You can be, uh, a little skittish, like a cat.”

“So. You’re calling me a “skittish cat”?” Jay asked.

“Don’t be embarrassed, we’re not taunting you, just stating the truth. You’re our skittish cat, afterall.” Jeremiah teased with a grin, lightly pinching Jay’s cheek. Jay, on the other hand, looked unimpressed and sighed loudly as the other two chuckled.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Jay looked annoyed as the other two calmed their laughter down.

Reginald glanced at the clock hanging by his bed. “Well, I see that it’s rather late. You both have to leave very early so I suggest we start heading to bed.” Reginald paused, glancing at Jeremiah who nodded. “Unless, you have other ideas?” 

Jay looked at him, a bit puzzled on what he meant. “Um, excuse me?”

“Oh you know.”

“I…I don’t know. What other ideas?”

Jeremiah sighs loudly, looking impatient as Reginald couldn’t help but to snicker a little.

“Intercourse, Jay. We are subtly asking if you would like to have sexual intercourse with us.”

“Oh..OH!” Jay’s face became hot and red as a tomato and he looked down, refusing to make eye contact. “I-I-I don’t- Are you sure? It just feels so sudden, not to say I don’t want to! I do, but-”

“Jay, Jay! We wouldn’t have asked if we weren’t sure. As much as I don’t want to say it or entertain the idea,” Reggie sighed. “If this is truly your last night alive, wouldn’t you want to make the most of it?” 

“I agree with Reginald.” Jeremiah piped in. “We want you. I want you.” 

Jay mulled over this for a moment. And perhaps it was some of the rootbeer in his system or the acceptance that death was already waiting on his doorstep, but for once in his entire existence, he ignored his inner voice telling him to run. Oh no, he was not running from this.

He instead picked up Reginald and Jeremiah, holding them in his arms. He may have lost an arm wrestling match, he most certainly was much stronger than he was in the past. But as soon as he did that, his adrenaline wore off for a second as he realized what he was doing.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I should have-”

“No, no, no! You’re fine.” Reginald said, looking flustered for once. Jeremiah was silent, but moved so suddenly to grab Jay’s face and kiss him passionately. He winced a sharp tooth and managed to knick his lip but as Jeremiah pulled away, Reginald immediately pulled Jay in to kiss him, leaving him breathless. His helmet clattered to the floor as he started to walk towards the bed, his two lovers never letting up on their constant affection towards him. 

...

It was the only good memory that flashed to his head as the world slowed around him. He had his back turned from his comrades. He couldn’t bear to see Lazarus’s or Jeremiah’s face as he heard Junior pump his shotgun. He wasn’t mad at Junior, far from it. Jay knew the kid was only doing what they agreed to. It was Jay who let his cowardice control him, putting Lazarus’s life at risk while he did the easy work of just sitting and waiting. Why did he even agree to this? For love? What kind of love was this? Was he really risking everything for the vengeance of the shadow of a man he once knew? Why didn’t Jeremiah stop this?

. . .

Why didn’t he stop this? He knew it was part of the agreement, but surely Jeremiah could have prevented it? Bended the rules a little? Jay didn’t want his final thoughts to be this, to be blaming his now lovers for his mistakes. Yet, it felt right doing so. If he had just said no and backed out, he would have been fine. Maybe stuck in Vicious Galaxy or even died at another person’s hands, but oh mir’, anything was better than dying from cowardice, by your own teammate’s hands. Jay shut his eyes. 

“Oh ‘Mir… I should have stayed as a janitor.” He could feel his voice tremble as he spoke his final words. “It was safe. It was-”

The last thing Jay heard was a loud bang and everything went to black.

...

The remaining three watched as Jay’s body hit the ground facedown with a thud. A small puddle of blood forming underneath. Jeremiah was at least thankful he didn’t have to see his face. Junior reloaded his gun, seemingly not that phased on the murder he just committed.

“No time for cowards, right boss?” He asked Jeremiah, who had snapped out of staring at the body to look at Junior. He cleared his throat,

“Unfortunately,” He made the mistake of glancing back at Jay’s corpse, grimacing a bit. “It had to be done.” 

Jeremiah turned his attention towards Lazarus who was looking at him with utter grief in his face. He heard about how Jay and him got along. Jeremiah couldn’t help but sympathize with the poor man, who he heard quietly whisper to Jay.

“Goodbye, Jay…”

As much as Jeremiah would like to stay a little longer, to at least say his own goodbye or bury a grave, they had no time to waste. They already wasted enough.

“The Artifact awaits. Let’s go.” Jeremiah pressed on, already walking in the base with Junior following right behind him. He didn’t turn back. Grief was merely a setback. Reginald would get his revenge, Jeremiah would make sure of it.

...

Reginald woke up to the sound of floorboards breaking, panicked shouts from his patrons, and a loud bang from the basement. He sighed tiredly, a little upset he had been rudely awakened from his impromptu nap. He didn’t sleep last night, how could he? Well, not only because of…what they did last night (he still felt a bit sore) but also from a persistent feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Regret.

He stared at Jay’s sleeping face for the entire night. When morning came, Reggie pretended to be asleep, not wanting to say goodbye for what could be the very last time he sees him. He heard his wheelchair being pushed to his bedside. He felt a cold chill on head, as he usually did in the mornings. Then, he felt warm lips gently kiss the same spot, feeling the hot air from his mouth linger only for a little bit and disappearing. He didn’t get up until an hour later, when the sun was about to rise and he could smell the pancakes Bryce was making from the inn. 

He shook off the memory, rubbing his eyes out of tiredness. What was he doing?

Ah, yes, he was making sure the props were set and ready. He was just about to start putting the photos into their frames for Jeremiah to hang up. 

Speaking of Jeremiah, he heard the door unlock from inside the secret room. He paused when he saw Reggie.

“...You look exhausted.”

“Hm, yes, I didn’t get much sleep last night. Did everything go as planned?” Reggie asked while sorting through the photos.

“Yes…” Jeremiah paused. He sighed tiredly as he explained. “Mostly. Irving did not die in the explosion. But everything else went exactly as planned. We even freed her. She’s waiting in the basement.”

“Irving won’t be a problem. I already have an idea of how we can get rid of him. Did Lazarus and Weasel make it out?”

Jeremiah nods, taking off his armor. “Yep. They made it out fine. Lazarus and Weasel Kid are already en route with the Artifact as we speak.”

Reggie couldn’t help but to grin excitedly. “Excellent. All we need is one more player character and the finishing touches to our game, and it will all come together.” He turned to look at Jeremiah with a smile. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Jeremiah walked over to Reggie. He simply grabbed his arm and kissed his hand, slowly intertwining his own with Reggie’s.

“Anything for you. I want to see them both suffer.”

Reggie smiled softly, patting Jeremiah’s head. His smile faded as he remembered about them.

“...And the other two. What happened to them?”

Jeremiah stopped and Reggie could see the remorse in his eyes as he gripped onto his hand.

“Junior died in the explosion, crushed by the debris. Poor child was simply unlucky.”

“And Jay?”

“...” Jeremiah went silent. Reggie’s mood and tone darkened. “Jeremiah. What happened to Jay?”

Jeremiah shakily sighed. Reggie was almost surprised at how sorrowful Jeremiah looked.

“Jay…He did his part well. But apparently, Lazarus did all the killing for him. He only managed to get the security down. By the time we were at the main gate, he got cold feet. He knew what we had agreed to. He died by Junior’s hands. One shotgun blast was all it took.”

Silence. Reginald’s face became unreadable as he processed the news. Jeremiah only held on tighter, leaning against his arm.

“I…I can’t say I did not expect it to happen. We both knew neither one was gonna make it, but I did expect a bit of a more…grander death.” 

“Reggie, I mean no offense or disrespect, but that would be asking too much of him. But he admitted to being…”a coward”. That’s brave enough for him.”

“Hm, I suppose.” Reggie looked back down at the photos and frames blankly. He pulled the photo of Jay and put it in the frame. He handed it and the rest of the photos and frames to Jeremiah.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I need these in frames and hanged. I would like you to put Jay’s by the kitchen door instead of our original spot.”

Jeremiah nodded, taking what Reggie had given him. “Of course. Anything else?”

“No, no. I would like to just be alone for a moment.”

“Very well, then.” 

Before Jeremiah could walk out the door, Reggie stopped him.

“Oh, and one more thing: I urge you to take some time for yourself when you’re done. Please. You look like you need it.”

Jeremiah was silent as he listened. He didn’t even respond, just left the room after Reggie was done talking. 

Reginald sat back in his wheelchair, staring at one of the static screens of the monitors. He felt tears come to his eyes as he let them fall, scowling at the reflection of himself. This was not his fault. Jay’s death was not his fault. He kept telling himself that as more tears came down. This was the fault of Irving and Lionel. They started this, they did this to them, and they were going to pay. Lionel wanted this, Irving’s words taunted in his head, fueling his anger and hatred further. Lionel wants this. Lionel-

“...Jay?”

He suddenly was snapped out of his thoughts by Lazarus’s voice crackling through the speakers. He looked at the lobby’s monitor, seeing Lazarus stare at the recently hanged portrait of Jay. His shocked face shifted into one of mourning.

“He was a good man…” He whispered to himself, believing no one else was listening. “Maybe even the best of us.” 

Reggie watched as he went to his usual spot with Rust, talking to him like nothing happened. Reginald wiped his eyes, letting a quiet laugh to himself. While Jay did die like a coward as he always was, at the very least he was liked…even loved. As Reggie left the room and went out the kitchen, wheeling himself behind the bar, he couldn’t help but to glance at the portrait, staring at it for a few moments.

Lazarus was right. He was the best among them all. As much as a scaredy cat he could be, panicking over the littlest of things and straying away from fights or confrontations, he had a good heart. More heart than Reginald or Jeremiah could ever have. Maybe that’s why letting him go, while feeling awful, wasn’t so hard to do.

Jay had hope. Far too much in Reggie’s eyes. It reminded him of his younger self, so desperate to believe that there was good in people. So easy to control and break.

It had killed them both.