#i had to pick the most painful route possible

[snkts]

🛏️ - A dream that made your character want to go back to sleep so they could continue the dream 😈

He is running.

To where, from what, he does not know - but he is running far, and running fast. There is no end in sight. No walls. No bars. No chains. Just an eternal forest. Trees stretch giant and looming around him. The stars stretch over the forest, poking through the canopy, an endless sea of black covered with crystals like fresh-spilled sugar. It's reflected almost perfectly in the fresh snow that is dusting the ground, falling until it crunches under his feet. It all melts into a blur past him because he is running. He is running.

He is running...

But he is not running alone.

The stars gleam in the air around him, reflected in the dark eyes of his family. His pack. They flow out of the trees and run with him, and they are alive and happy and free. He glances to the side and sees lolling tongues and pricked ears. They brace their paws on the ground and lunge.

He is no longer running, because he is swarmed by his pack. They yip and bark joyfully, pushing wet tongues and cold noses against his face and he has to push them aside just for the space to breathe. He is laughing. He turns and buries his face in the closest ruff he can find, inhaling the scent of the wild. Their teeth scrape playfully at his skin, and they are running again, and he climbs to his feet and runs too. The oldest among them throws her head back to howl, and the rest of the pack joins in. He breathes in deep, fills his lungs-

"Hey, wild man!" A sudden voice startles him awake. He blinks in the low light of the early dawn, sniffs to clear his nose. The shackles rattle as he sits up. Another kick from the stage hand and the cart rocks. He blinks again, bleary.

"Y'know what time it is?" The stage hand flashes a gap-toothed grin. "That's right - it's almost showtime!"

...

No. He didn't want to. He was tired. He didn't want to be seen. (Wanted to go back to that dream, back to his pack, his family-)

His nerves light up in blue-white agony and he jolts upright with a startled snarl.

"That's more like it!" The stagehand crows. Through blurred eyes, he sees the stagehand leaning on some sort of box. He knew that box. He hated that box.

"Hey, Mitchel - boss said not to break his new toy! We want our beastie on his feet for the show!" Another voice. The stagehand rolls his eyes and groans.

"Always spoilin' my fun..." The stagehand mutters and walks off.

He watches the stagehand go and slowly, gingerly, crouches back down, bunching into the corner of the cage. The bars are cold. The floor is coated in a spiderweb of wires and metal and he does not understand. He is tired, but his heart is racing, keeping him up when all he wants to do is sleep. To be with his pack again, even in dreams. He cannot sleep. All he can do is crouch and wait for the spectators to arrive, wait for whatever the Ringmaster has planned.

And even though he can see the trees through the bars, the forest has never been so far away.

[kafus]

how i caught entei in leafgreen in the most ridiculous way possible

SO last week i started a pokemon leafgreen file on my childhood cart i've had since my 5th birthday, and one my goals ended up being getting every owned dex entry possible in JUST the one copy of leafgreen without connecting to any other game… and i did. except i forgot one. ENTEI!!

like probably a lot of you reading this i COMPLETELY forgot that one of the johto roaming beasts is in every copy of FRLG. i never even caught any of them as a kid. which roamer you get is based on your starter (squirtle = raikou, bulbasaur = entei, charmander = suicune) and i happened to pick bulbasaur so my roamer was entei. it does actually ROAM in kanto, aka whenever you change locations, the pokemon moves to a new route. obviously this is a pain in the ass, but it gets even more painful because roamers can flee from the battle and they will the instant you encounter them. you get the chance to throw one ball or use one move and that's it… so like in most pokemon games, you would use a trapping move like mean look to keep the roamer in the battle and turn it into a normal legendary encounter, right? HAHA WRONG

raikou and entei are affected by the ROAMER ROAR BUG in FRLG, which means if they use roar to escape the battle (yes, even in mean look, it doesn't stop roar from working) they just disappear from the game. permanently. forever. you can never capture it. suicune is not affected by this because it doesn't have roar, but my roamer was entei, so uh. the odds were stacked against me. did i want to repetitively encounter the roamer over and over, never trapping it, just throwing one ball each time? or did i want to set up a mean look pokemon only to have to soft reset every time entei used roar? neither option sounded fun and i was going to just give up and master ball it despite REALLY wanting it in a luxury ball like all the other kanto legendaries i had already caught… UNTIL!

i am a moderator of the ribbon master discord (a different pokemon challenge) and i was just sorta liveposting my thought process about this annoying roamer when gen 3 rng manipulation extraordinaire ddeeffgg crashes into the chat and suggests this fucking bonkers idea. and his bonkers idea is galaxy brain LET ME EXPLAIN

ariados is available in leafgreen's post game by catching spinarak in pattern bush, and of course electrode is a fairly common kanto pokemon. ariados gets access to spider web, which is basically just mean look with a different name (and i completely forgot it existed), it traps the opponent in the battle. but IMPORTANTLY, it ALSO gets access to BATON PASS… which, in gen 3, passes the trapping effect! usually if you were to use spider web and swap out ariados, the opponent would no longer be trapped, but baton pass solves that! and then electrode has the ability soundproof which prevents roar from working, and it even gets thunder wave (paralysis) and sonicboom (consistent 20 damage with no chance of accidental crits) to assist in easier capture of entei! nice!! awesome!! but getting this setup in order is the most ridiculous shit i've ever done in leafgreen

PROBLEM #1: ariados gets baton pass through egg move. in gen 3, egg moves are only passed down by the father and not the mother, so i had to grab a male ledyba, grind it to a high enough level to learn baton pass, then grab a female spinarak and breed them together. unfortunately this means my ariados would be level 1 and i'd have to train it up quite a bit, which leads into my next problem…

PROBLEM #2: ariados is SLOWWW. its base speed is a measly 40 compared to entei's whopping 100! ariados needs to outspeed entei to use spider web first turn so entei can't just run away! i would have to get ariados to a very high level to outspeed entei, grinding all the way from level 1. the one plus side is that the roamers in FRLG are bugged to always have a 0 IV in defense, special attack, special defense, and speed, which means unless entei has a +speed nature, its speed would always be a predictable and relatively low 105 at level 50, which is what it's encountered at. so i had to get an ariados with a speed of 106 or higher.

to get around both these problems as efficiently as possible, while breeding spinarak, i bred quite a few to get one with a +speed nature, and ended up with a jolly spinarak. everstone doesn't work in FRLG unfortunately, so the nature was completely random each time. soon my DAUGHTER WAS BORN after like 2-3 hours of breeding because FRLG eggs are SLOOOW and i was being stubborn about the nature, which i was getting unlucky on LOL

then i maxed out her speed EVs real quick by fighting picnicker susie on route 13 over and over, who gives 12 speed EVs per battle, 24 with the macho brace, which i was using. this was just to make sure i would reach 106+ speed as fast as possible. then i grinded her levels by repetitively fighting the two trainers right outside the weird chansey dance guy's house in sevault canyon on seven island, right above tanoby ruins. using the vs seeker on them is the best grinding spot in the game since they give 20k experience per fighting both of them and there's a healing spot Right There. i was using exp share and leading with my level 100 jolteon named Egg who i adore with all my heart. ariados, now named koolaid, ended up crossing the speed threshold at level 62! yes this took a while lmao

as for electrode, i wanted one at as high of a level as possible so i hopefully wouldn't have to grind levels. i lucked out as electrode is found at a whopping level 64 in cerulean cave's bottom floor. a 5% encounter rate but as i had already caught numerous 5%s for the pokedex, i didn't really care. however it DOES have explosion and i'd rather not have the electrode explode on me before i could catch it which would then send me on a wild goose chase for ANOTHER 5% electrode… so i grabbed the random level 24 poliwhirl with the damp ability, which prevents explosion from working, out of my PC, and gave it a smoke ball from the celadon game corner so i could lead with her and easily run from each encounter that Wasn't Electrode.

now you may be wondering how i was going to handle capturing electrode once i was actually in the battle because SURELY it would just use thunderbolt or something and instantly murder my poliwhirl. however funnily enough electrode only has two attacking moves at level 64, swift and explosion. explosion obviously doesn't work, and swift is a physical attack in gen 3 due to all normal type moves being physical, this was before the physical/special split in gen 4. electrode's physical attack stat is a garbage 50 and swift only has a base power of 60 so i honestly wasn't concerned. and best of all, poliwhirl gets the move hypnosis, so i could easily put electrode to sleep and start chucking ultra balls… and the smoke ball ended up being useless because i somehow ran into electrode first try what the fuck LOL

anyways i named them gatorade to match with koolaid. truly the dream entei capturing team. i didn't even feel the need to grind any levels on gatorade, level 64 was more than enough, so i just slapped the two moves i wanted on them - thunder wave through the one-use tutor in silph co, and sonicboom through the move reminder on two island, costing me two tinymushrooms which i thankfully already had and did not have to go out of my way to grind.

however the hours worth of prep ISN'T DONE YET! because uhh…

PROBLEM #3: ariados has to be above entei's level to outspeed it (yes, even if it had a 31 IV in speed AND a speed boosting nature AND maximum speed EVs, it still wouldn't be enough at level 50), which means the repel trick can't be used to encounter it. tracking down the roamer is practically impossible without using repels to cancel out all other wild pokemon, and in gen 3, unlike later gens, you can't put a fainted pokemon in the front of the party for the repel trick instead. and if i DON'T lead with ariados, entei will run away when i try to swap into it. SO i decided i would have to run into entei once first through the repel trick method, which marks it as "seen" in the pokedex, and then i would track its location through the pokedex to encounter it while leading with ariados.

to accomplish this, i simply ran in and out of the building on route 16, going in and out of the grass in the process, which would constantly be randomizing entei's location until it happened to randomize onto route 16. i caught a staryu with illuminate as an ability to raise the chance of entei appearing, which does work while staryu is fainted (wouldn't want to go in and out of the grass while entei was on route 16 without encountering it!) and otherwise led with my level 50 magmar that was on my elite four team named Torch for the repel trick.

i bought a whopping 100 max repels for this task but i ended up getting entei within just a few lol. torch was holding the smoke ball just to be able to run away safely without any shenanigans!

and now entei was in the pokedex and able to be tracked that way!

however, there was still ONE more problem...

PROBLEM #4: luxury balls are a pain in the ASS to get in this game! they can't be bought from any shop. the only way to repeatedly get luxury balls in FRLG is to show a pokemon to selphy, a rich girl who lives in resort gorgeous on five island.

i will mostly skim over this because it's boring, but TLDR i had to continuously talk to her, fly back to the pokemon center, get the pokemon she wanted to see out of the PC because the step limit is 250 before she gets sick of waiting which is like nothing (i already had a living dex of every mon obtainable in leafgreen otherwise so this wasn't hard), surf to her, then spam A through dialogue with her butler in which i had a 70% chance of receiving a luxury ball. i did this over 40 times until i had 30 luxury balls, and sold off all the nuggets and other items she gave me. good lord this took a while

and now with ALL of that setup i was FINALLY ready to capture entei in a luxury ball. this took me literally all day and i was really excited. to consistently encounter entei, i saved in cerulean city and tracked it in the pokedex from there, opening it over and over after changing to any of the four routes connected to the city, and moving to an adjacent route from entei's location when it was close in the hopes of walking onto the same route it moved to when i did. i was following a map made by hangarofroam, he has a video tutorial on how to shiny hunt the FRLG roamers and encounter them as quickly as possible, and i highly recommend looking it up if you want to capture these roamers yourself, but tldr this is the map i was using:

and once i encountered entei i was finally able to use the strategy i had prepped so long to do... and it worked without a hitch!! entei can't try to use roar first turn because it wastes a turn trying to flee, which is prevented by ariados outspeeding and using spider web... then if it tries to use roar the next turn, i've already switched into electrode to block it with soundproof. so from there it's just a matter of whittling down entei's HP to the red with swift/sonicboom and paralyzing it with thunder wave, then tossing luxury balls until success!

and i GOT IT after 3 encounter attempts and 73 luxury balls thrown. and FINALLY i have all 171 national dex entries possible in a single copy of leafgreen with no connection to other games, and all the legendaries are in fancy ass luxury balls. i am winning.

this was ridiculous. please be proud of my accomplishments. i've had this file for less than 2 weeks and i already have over 70 hours of gameplay in it after doing all this AAAAA

also barely related but look at Egg my jolteon he had like no purpose in this story but i took a pic of him in front of entei before going on to capture entei because i love him so much pleas

thanks for coming to my fucking ted talk i am SOOO normal about pokemonsdfjkfds (joke)

[clownsuu]

Just a lil doodles smhhhh

cw: mentions of violence and distress. Also weapons-

This is probably a good time to mention everyone’s jobs since I keep forgetting to mention it JDHDGDH

Wally: Da Boss (yeah no shid) he isn’t that merciful of a boss- can be very brutal with how relentless he can be and is a bit of a (non sus) sadistic a s s sometimes. Usually is playfully humorous initially, but can quickly go sour if he feels ever so slightly ticked. Preferred weapon: his eyes and his arms.

Barnaby: Body guard, boss’s left hand man, usually the one who talks for the boss. Sometimes he’s even seen as the “unofficial” boss of the whole group (which he likes to humor sometimes) but in the end he is possibly the most loyal out of everyone to Wally (man’s best friend after all). Preferred weapon is “da biggest gun we got!!!”

Howdy: Butler, bartender, boss’s right hand man. Will do basically everything anyone says (who’s part of the family) without question, however he will always take the Boss’s requests as main priority over the others. This will often keep him awake and exhausted, and a few new stitches to add to his collection. He has the lowest ability to think freely. Preferred weapon: Ice pick

Julie: Hitman A, interrogator, mad scientist really. Killing isn’t really too much of her thing, she prefers methodical planning and slow suffering with the use of chemicals and even random substances she can get her lil paws on. She’s not afraid to use anyone as a test subject, even if it’s her own members. preferred weapon: tranquilizers

Sally: Hitman B, intimidator, c h a o s. Almost the complete opposite to Julie. Absolutely chaotic and adores violent bloodshed to a point it’s theatrical. Usually is called if they don’t really need a clean kill. Can often be seen dancing and listening to music while on the job, often says it helps her focus (nobody really argues with it). Preferred weapon: anything blunt and/or violently loud (tasers, rocket launchers, fireworks) (sally is banned from using rocket launchers)

Poppy: Medic, crime scene cleanup, voice of reason, sometimes chef. She does ok when it comes to clean ups and stuff, however she has panic attacks and gets terrified when ever she hears screams of pain/torture, and freezes. Typically Howdy is there to help her snap out of it and help her complete her work, if not do her work for her. Everyone, even including the boss, is there to support her when she’s distressed (everyone would hug her except Wally. He does not like being touched unless it’s Howdy or Barnaby). Preferred weapon: n/a

Eddie: Messenger, delivery pick up/drop off, handler of the goods. He usually goes by himself, however after an incident where he lost his arm from a deal gone wrong, he is now required to leave with at least one of the hitmen (typically Sally). Very often does he get hurt in these trips and is usually always saved by Sally. Absolutely adores Frank for always trying to find the safest routes for him and wishes they had time together alone. Preferred weapon: a simple revolver

Frank: In charge of ordering goods, making contacts, being a voice of reason, basically just a manager. The most stressed member of the group. Rarely is he seen outside of the headquarters unless it’s to talk to well known individuals. He doesn’t usually talk to anyone besides Howdy (ranting at the bar about people), Eddie (telling him what he needs to get next), and Julie (normal convos and her asking him to order new chemicals for her next project). Every time Frank thinks he has an intimate moment together alone with Eddie, out of the blue Eddie would just randomly talk about how much he loves the family and how Wally is so amazing. The next day Frank asks him about it, it seems Eddie doesn’t remember what happened yesterday. Frank has the highest ability to think freely. Preferred weapon: a simple glock.

Home: Voice of reason. Preferred weapon: Wally

[loriache]

do you ever think about how delgal never blamed the winged lion for what happened to thistle?

I'll preface this by saying that he certainly COULD have done. most of the arguments that delgal had with thistle about returning the golden kingdom are off-page, and he doesn't seem to have relayed a lot of detail to yaad about how he understood thistle's behaviour.

however.

what we can infer, i think, is that if delgal blamed anything for thistle's increasingly erratic behaviour, it was the influence of "black magic" and power.

the winged lion is the golden kingdom's guardian deity, and that is how they understand it up to the present - including yaad. the prophecy that convinced delgal to leave the dungeon (which i assume the winged lion intended to use to attract another, more easily controllable, dungeon lord) is likely to be part of a long campaign the lion made of deliberately isolating thistle from the people of the golden kingdon and presenting itself as the victim.

we see that the lion is convincing, and keeps a facade of concern for thistle long past the point that it has any chance of winning him over - i don't have any doubt it was easy to present this narrative to the kingdom's people, including delgal.

but isn't it incredibly sad to think that the person who thistle trusted most in the world and did all of this for was unable to see the true victim, between him and the winged lion?

we see that very shortly upon becoming the dungeon lord, both marcille and laios become lost in their desires. this is standard.

Laios is only able to get through to marcille because he sees the root of her pain, and understands that ...

...the dungeon's power is evil.

thistle isn't acting rationally from the very beginning, but it is possible to reach him - if delgal could understand where his desire and his fear stemmed from, and that the winged lion is evil.

Thistle at least seems to know that the winged lion isn't to be trusted. Thus why he sealed it in the book. perhaps he picked up on what it was doing, manipulating the kingdom's people and him both.

But if he ever said that the winged lion was dangerous, not to be trusted, to delgal, he wasn't believed. to delgal, thistle sealed and misused the power of the golden kingdom's guardian deity. As a student of ancient magic, I believe thistle understands that isn't what the demon is - or at least not all of what it is - even if he doesn't know the details of why it's so dangerous, or that it can devour his desires. But as an 'outsider' to the golden kingdom, despite his (unofficial, i'm sure) adoption, and the fact he's been there most of his life, I doubt his saying so would be received well by the kingdom's people.

As far as we know delgal also doesn't understand the fear that is driving thistle's refusal to let the dungeon go -- the need to be useful that he instilled.

Even if he doesn't really realise, he is talking to a, at most, 15-16 year old in relative human years, and putting the responsibility for the kingdom on him - it's no wonder this is a weight that Thistle isn't able to let go of. Especially if this is how he attempts to persuade him:

It doesn't get to the root of why he asked thistle to do this to begin with - the fear of death. It's just "hasn't it been long enough, people want to leave." Well, if they leave, they will die - thistle's right about that! The only way to get him to accept that is what Yaad eventually does on his behalf at the end of the manga.

To admit that he was wrong to ask to begin with. To ask Thistle to accept loss and death. To accept it himself, truly.

Without doing that, there's no way he'd ever get through to him. So the route he takes - running away from thistle, begging that someone kill the "lunatic magician" - might be the last resort of a desperate man who blamed himself for what happened to his brother. But it's also something he does because he can't understand Thistle, and can't see his pain for what it is or his relationship with the Winged Lion for what it is.

The way that the lion manipulates others' perception to make him the victim and thistle the - well, the 'lunatic', the unstable villain and captor - really evokes DARVO to me. the demon as a metaphor for an abusive relationship. like.... look at this extra:

and it makes me sad that no-one realised what was going on until it was too late for thistle.

[evilminji]

Hey Minji! A thought for your Star Wars things!

Who ever said the SI-OC was the only one to get dumped in SW? Just. A Creche that has several Reincarnations/Transmigrants.

Oh? My god? Just... the FIRST thing that popped into my head? Was the image of one of those "we are so Unbelievably Overworked We No Longer Fear You Nor Death" Sort of office workers/team of workers(nonspecific)?

Just... fuckin EVERYBODY knows Star Wars. Not everybody focused on the same PART of it, but the DO know it. So OBVIOUSLY? The Force decided it should bring in an A Team.

It Did Not ASK the A Team.

They are... like? 4. And sitting in a soft foam, brightly colored Creche, in their lil Jedi rompers, all sitting in a circle, looking at each other like... ( -_-) (-_- ) you too, huh?

Yeeeeeep. (God does Jerry want a cigarette. Jerry gave them up in his 20s. But he's KINDA GOING THROUGH IT, okay?!) (Sarah is hyperventilating in the corner. Her KIDS! Oh GOD. Her KIDS! She was on the way to pick them up from SOCCOR PRACTICE!!!)

Just? This whole ass team of "yeah, we know the LORE, but buddy, pal, we had LIVES! What the FUCK. Star Wars was a HOBBY!" Type adults? No one is happy and everyone wants to choke the metaphysical concept of The Force with their itty, bitty lil baby hands.

They may RIOT.

And like? Do to sheer NUMBERS? They make up ALMOST a full Creche?

Almost.

There is like... one? Maybe two? Actual Jedi Babies™ in their group? It's A Team... plus our collective children. Whom we parent. The MOST baby of babies. Also the spokesperson when they want to fool anyone into thinking they're "normal".

I want Jerry to have a fake cigarette. He's looked up death sticks and like FUCK is he putting that shit in his body, but dear LORD are the oral fixation and mental effects of a past addiction still both real, and a pain in the ASS.

If you try and TAKE his fake ass, hand made, bespoke not-a-cigarette from his itty bitty lil baby hands? He will take your KNEES. These FUCKERS won't even let him have COFFEE. Let him HAVE THIS. *hisses from the walls*

I want them to be ☆~Nightmare Children~☆

They have the power of The Force, various past life skills, an uninterrupted access to the galaxy's BIGGEST LIBRARY, close proximity to FAR too many senator AND their living spaces, and? An actual negative number of fucks to give. They can take shifts. Tag team. Be creepy, horrible, terrible, God awful nightmare creatures climbing out from your WALLS.

Somehow they keep escaping.

Down through the lower temple as they examine the hidden tunnels and escape routes. Through the vents. Forcing other jedi to become VERY familiar with where those pathways are. Sure hope THAT won't someday save your lives! Ya ungrateful, "you're grounded, stop sneaking out younglings" BASTARDS! So rude!!

The camp out in the Corrie Gaurd office. Bring the babies.

Here, you seem stressed, random gaurd. Hold a Jedi Baby. They radiate sunshine and good vibes. Are literally the Anti-Old-Man-Sith. We brought caffeine and food from the temple. Are willing to follow you around like "adorable ducklings" on patrol under the excuse that we're "training" for when we get our own soilders.

Sure is INCONVENIENT for all these asshole senators to has a witness, huh?

You gaurd my back, I'll gaurd yours. And if a certain long neck trips near the stairs? You didn't see SHIT. I'm BABY. How could I POSSIBLY have the control to do that? Now excuse me... we need to practice our "we Jedi Children can stare into your SOOOOOULS, we See All Your Sins." Wide Eyed Unblinking Predator Stare.

(O.O) (O.O) (O.O)

[russellsppttemplates]

https://br.pinterest.com/pin/426082814766919130/

Hello, since Carlos and Carlos Sr. recreated that photo when Jr. removed his appendix, could you do a Carlos blurb where he and the reader leave Clara for a while with Carlos' parents because they are busy with the reader's appointment to see how the twins are doing during her pregnancy, where Carlos Sr. recreates with her one of his photos from where Jr. was little with the newspaper talking about his victory in rally and then Reyes sends them this photo

Cw: reader's pregnant

"Papa and Mama are going to see how the twins are doing, okay? So you'll stay with abuelo and abuela, okay?", Carlos checked with Clara as you spoke to Reyes.

"And then you'll come pick me up?", your daughter asked, "or will I spend the night here?".

"Abuela said she would make dinner for us tonight, so after the appointments, me and mama will come back here and then we'll all go home together", Carlos clarified.

"Okay", the little girl smiled, "say hi to the babies for me!", she hugged Carlos one last time before she ran up to you, "I love you, mama", she hugged your legs.

While you waited for the doctor to call you, the twins started kicking, "put your hand here", you smiled, guiding your husband's hand to the spot where one of the boys was kicking.

"Is it more painful now that there's two of them?", Carlos quesioned.

"Right now it's okay, I imagine it will be harder when they're closer to term", you shrugged your shoulders, "you and your guys managed to put two babies in me, and now you're worried?", you joked.

"I'm always thinking about you and making sure you're all fine, amor", Carlos admitted, "I never quite understood what my father meant until I became a father - I always want the best for you and I hate the thought of you being in pain or uncomfortable", he sighed, "I can assume being pregnant is not the most comfortable thing, so I want to help as much as possible - even if I was the one getting two babies", he smiled.

"It's not the most comfortable, there are some bad days, but I like being pregnant", you assured, "not in a kink type of way before you go down that route, but because I know I'm the babies first home and that they're comfy in there", you rubbed your bump before you got a notification from your mother in-law.

The photo showed, on one side, a young Carlos and his father reading a newspaper about his win, and on the other, a modern recreation of it with Clara holding a tablet with a digital version of the newspaper article reporting about his latest victory.

The shop was out of the physical copies of the newspaper so we had to get creative!

Showing Carlos, the smile on your husband's face was the biggest, "I'm so happy we get to raise the kids with our families nearby", he kissed your temple.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[amazinglyashy]

Frostbite - Prologue [Ch. 1]

Read on Ao3 Pairings: Foreseer Zayne x Reader Summary: In the Creatio Protocore, you would find an extension on the life you had all but given up on until recently. In you, the Foreseer would find a life worth living for once in his immortality. And together, you would find just how lovely and just how cruel fate could be. Tags: N/SFW, Hurt/Comfort. Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Canon Divergence, Abuse, Domestic Violence, Chronic Illness Notes: A slightly divergent retelling of Zayne's time as Foreseer and the myths and memories that flow with it. Chapters uploaded as frequently as I can. Chapter wordcount: 1,445

Prologue - You

Freezing- that would be a good word to use to describe how you were feeling right now. It was the dead of winter, with the wind howling as it bit across the rose color of your cheeks, making you wonder how long it would be before you became a frozen icicle yourself, much akin to the ones hanging down low from the trees. The nature around you was breathtakingly beautiful, you wouldn’t deny that- the trees nearly black in color from the wet of their wood in the snow coating them, the stark contrast of black and white mixed with the pale blue of ice taking form along the branches- if you had more time, you would stop and enjoy it. Maybe start a fire to add some warm oranges and red to the canvas before you while you admired the view. But you didn’t have such time, nor luxury at this moment. 

You couldn’t tell if the ground beneath you feeling like a glacier was a bad omen or not. In most cases, the danger of slipping on the tightly packed snow would be at the forefront of your mind, but right now, it was a comforting sign that the road you were traversing was commonly used. It meant if you got stuck up here, you could find help fairly easily, possibly even before freezing to death. 

Well, until you had to fork away from the main road and take a much less common way to get to your destination. 

The route you were currently using was one that branched off several times in its length, commonly leading to local villages or nearby cities for tradesmen and artisan to go and sell their wares. Farmers would also utilize the main roadway when transporting livestock or their crops in imposing wagons, though their wheels would have much difficulty on the ice and sleet that had formed since autumn had turned to winter. Their trips were far and fewer in between, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist until spring. 

You had the lingering thought of hopefully passing a hunter somewhere along your route. You had brought some coin just in case, hoping to talk them out of a catch they may have on hand in exchange, so that you could have a bite to eat later once you were making the trip back down the mountain, huddled around a makeshift fire as you waited out the evening. 

That would be to say, if you were able to make it back down the mountain at all.

Quietly, as if on instinct, you reached up to clutch your chest as you felt a slight tendril of pain throb across your bosom. You needed to be careful, and pick up the pace. The frozen wind howling around you was dangerous for your condition, and you didn’t need to experience an aggressive flare up in the middle of an unforgiving mountain. Not when you were this close to a possible salvation. 

The area ahead of you cleared, and you could see an olden wood sign with markers and text burnt into the grain, covered in snow, but clean enough to read. You approached the gray wood that complimented the white contrast of snow surrounding it, making out a few small, nearby villages whose names you recognized from day trips the summers before now. The roadway you were on split off into three different directions, snaking to locations nearby and further away. Two of the options had paths similar to the one you had just come from- packed down snow slick with footsteps and wheel markings, the travel route being utilized faster than fresh snowfall could cover it. It was alright to walk in, with nails cobbled into the soles of your shoes to prevent a fall. Both paths promised common traffic. But the third option was quite the opposite. 

It was nearly completely powder, only packed down from more snow landing down on top of it. It looked more akin to a small, sudden cliff rising above the other pathways, like a two-foot tall wall challenging you to dare take a step onto it, not knowing if what lie beneath it was solid ground, or covered underbrush. 

Obviously, it was the one you were meant to take.

Of course, the state it’s in makes perfect sense , you thought to yourself, stepping forward to begin carefully trekking the thick climate. After all, when was the last time an official royal envoy had been sent to the Tower of Thorns anyway? Most people didn’t make it a daily habit to go and see the Foreseer. The fear of angering him or the god Astra Himself usually too much for most to bear, even in exchange for the possibility of finding out a future prophecy that greedily pertained to themselves. And the ones who didn’t fear the concept were simply too stupid to have fear of the godly and divine in the first place. You had definitely heard talk in the taverns, wild men drunk on too much ale, spilling their tales and woe about friends or cohorts going missing after a brazen trip to the tower in the mountain. Usually, it was someone who had been down on their luck, searching for a prophecy that promised better fortune in the near future. But occasionally, it was someone who wanted to grasp one of the Foreseer’s many treasures, the coin fetched for such items would be immense enough to live on for years to come, simply because of his divine name. 

That very same tavern talk was what had led you to this very moment- trudging your way as the stony spire slowly came into view, your lungs burning with every freezing breath you took. 

Yes, those who didn’t fear the Foreseer or Astra were out of their right minds, and the ones who even humored the thought of stealing something holy for their own benefit were even worse. But you were finding it harder and harder to mock them, even simply in the depths of your own mind, due to what was bringing you here today.

The Creatio Protocore. 

It was a divine relic, supposedly nestled in the center of the scepter the Foreseer used in most of his magics, knots of wood and metal curling around it as it hovered in place. It could reign destruction- leveling parts of the mountain, taking lives without an ounce of mercy from the wielder, Astra’s cruel sword and emissary, and freezing to death anyone who may speak out of line. But there were two sides to this coin- with the Creatio Protocore also capable of more than simple miracles. It could bestow life upon rot, and will tranquility on the lands surrounding. Both sides were tales you had been told, sure, but you knew the words bore some weight. You had read the scripture from the royals before and their envoys, and how the Foreseer would act when they were in his presence. 

The Creatio Protocore would be able to cure you- the ailment that scarred deeply across your chest- you just knew it. 

Not much was known about Cryoarsis, except that there were no known cures nestled among the browned, stained pages that spoke of the few known cases. And when you said few, you meant few. The amount of known cases could be counted on both hands, and missing a few fingers at that. The cases happened so infrequently, the information that spoke of the disease could be considered even rarer than the disease itself. Your deductions had found that the only possible cure would be nothing short of divine intervention. A rare miracle bestowed upon you by the gods themselves. A rare miracle taking shape, could be considered the Creatio Protocore, the main source of power for the Foreseer, and a blessing from Astra in physical form. 

So, blindly- on the basis of some tavern banter you had heard a few weeks ago and the writings you had read up on after- you were lifting your knees to your chest as you trudged your way up the last length of the mountainside you would need to reach the Tower of Thorns. The human will to live was a mighty thing, you were finding. And you knew yours was mightier than most. It hadn’t always been, but recent events transpiring had done well to change your mind, and now your only goal was to find- and take- the Creatio Protocore to cure your Cryoarsis. Even if it killed you.

Besides, you would die anyway without it. What did you have to lose, trying to go toe to toe with a demigod?

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

Idea inspired by this art!

tags: sorcerer!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, au is kind of medieval, mentions of men grabbing reader out of home, burning at the stake, reader is mistaken as a witch but she is a prophetess, it’s giving castlevania x howls moving castle vibes, Satoru is a bit cocky but we love him (might do a pt 2?)

There’s a nice cottage outside the city, 15 minutes away by foot, you live in a home with your mother and brother (your father actually passed from a brutal cold three years ago, leaving you to tend to the home and seek work). It started off as a necessity, advising the horse racing, chicken fighting gamblers on what animal to place your bets on. your reply? intuition. that chicken has sturdy legs, that horse has agile movements. excuses that granted you money for the time being, for your gifts. an ability passed down by the women of your family though yours outweighed the abilities of your mother, so you remained unadvised. using your intuition to get by the day.

Word gets around that a young lady such as yourself is not married. 19, 20, 21, and now 22– you’re questioned behind your back by your neighbors at how you could possibly remain unmarried. It had been 6 months since men started disappearing in your route by your home, reportedly last seen by the lake not far from your home.

You had been labeled as an unmarried bloodsucking siren, a cursed demon who takes the bodies of young men, and although all that is false, it does not help your case that you’ve remained indoors most of your life and the fact that you’ve advised others in the world of gambling.

You were a sinner, sentenced by the court, but before that happened, a large storm broke 7 days before the fated event.

It was windy, dark, and rainy that your mother had frantically put everything away. “I’ll get the lights from the back shed!” you called, putting on a coat, a second for safe measures. the rain pours hard that it overcomes the splish splash sounds of your feet. When you’re walking towards the fence to the main road, and into the back of your home, you catch a man. wet, crouched, and seemingly pained from all the walking he did. the nearest town by foot was over an hour away, and waking in this weather surely meant he could catch a cold.

“I am sorry to burden you, miss...” the voice calls, head hooded from your eyes, “but is there any shelter I can rest for the night? I... I don’t have any-“

“It’s fine,” you speak, soft and understanding before you pull him gently by the arm, “come follow me,” and you lead him to your shed, making a bed of hay for him before you’ve taken your first coat and placed it over the hay for him to use as a blanket or mattress. the man behind you stands silent as you pull out to light a candle for him, turning to him, “it’s not much,” you say, “but you can stay here. It’s better than spending the night outside, right?” with not another word, you hand him the candle and grab the supplies you were originally here for. “stay here, I’ll be right back.” you direct softly, shortly before leaving the shed. at home, you take out a bowl and serve some leftover stew and some bread that you would have eaten in the morning, opting to give it to someone who could have needed it more than you.

“there’s some stew in here,” you say, handing the man a bowl and bread with your other hand. it’s at this moment you notice how unbelievably pale his hands are, almost like the statues outside the cathedrals. it almost leaves you speechless, and he notes. “Thank you, miss...?”

you give him your name without much thought. finishing your arrangements in the shed before you turn to him. “feel free to stay the night, or until the rain has settled. whatever will facilitate your journey, sir...?”

“Go-“ suddenly, he’s surprised that his bread has slipped past his fingers until you’re on your knees picking it up quicker than he can. It isn’t until you look up that your eyes meet his, a breathtakingly striking pair of azure eyes, bluer than any water or sky you’ve dreamed of, it leaves you silent. “Thank you,” he whispers softly, and the sound of his ragged voice reminds you where and what you’re doing. suddenly shy and remembering you’re a maiden, you’re quickly at your feet wishing him a Goodnight without another word, closing the door behind you.

He’s gone the next morning.

Several days pass and the talk of you around town grow more and more. you’ve asked your mother to keep your brother inside so as to protect him, but on the evening of the 7th day you’re harshly pulled from your home, leaving your mother with teary eyes as you’re feeling like the life out of you is being squeezed out with the way so many men manhandle you. pulling you, shoving you, shouting insults, you’re suddenly the main talk of the town as they expose you on the streets calling you horrible names: whore, slut, demon, murderer, and more. the names don’t cut as deep as the memory of being pulled away from your home.

“Burn the witch!” Cry out many, and you’re roughly shoved against a stake before rope is tied around your midsection, burning roughly against your soft skin it hurts. the town mayor gives a speech, then the priest calls your execution necessary for the good of humanity, blaming you for the deaths of over 12 men in a 6 month course. mother’s shout at you and men renounce your existence as worse than satan himself.

everyone wants you dead. and suddenly, the fire runs around you.

“God,” you call out, “please let these people see past their mistakes! you of all people know I didn’t do anything! please save my mother and brother from this fate! please spare their eyes from this shame, this torment they will carry- and please make my end as quick as possible so that I can look after them.” a long moment passes as your head is now dropped low, not long before you hear a chuckle.

“Well, that’s certainly not the type of monologue I’d expect from you.” calls a voice. he tilts your chin up to face him after your silence. you don’t know if you’re hallucinating, the fire is bound to burn you any second and your lungs burn. in front of you stands a man. tall, handsome, and pale. white hair and pink lips like the kind you’d see in paintings. and his eyes? they strike a familiarity you’ve seen before.

the man before you grins, and you can’t help but put your whole faith, even your idea of god on him as he looks at you with such admiration.

“So you’re the girl they call a witch, huh?”

amusement crosses his eyes. and yet again they are breathtaking, finer than any blue mosaic you’ve seen. possibly holier than any church you’ve stepped foot in.

“I’m not a witch, I... I’m a visionary,” you reply, trying not to grow dizzy from the fire around you. when you turn to look elsewhere, no one seems to acknowledge the man in front of you. were you hallucinating?

“So you’re another one of the freaks, huh?” He says, eyes laced with interest. “That’s why they have you here. even when you didn’t murder all those men.”

“I didn’t,” your coughing takes him by surprise and he remembers how sensitive humans can be, “I... I didn’t hurt anyone,”

“I believe you,” he says, lowly. “Tell you what. I’ll save you from this fire, and in return you can help me find out what on earth became of these men. put an end to this. deal?”

you nod, not remembering what happens moments later as the man wraps you in his arms, making you drown into a deep sleep before he kisses the crown of your head. the fire erupts and sparks behind you both as you both rise like shooting stats, terrifying the townspeople behind.

“From now on, you’ll live a life free of torment,” whispers the sorcerer, bringing you into the comfort of his cave.

[jupiter-soups]

guess I should've known from the look on your face

part one of begging for you to take my hand. part two here

pairing: joel miller x f!reader, friends -> enemies -> lovers (kinda)

summary: your tempestous relationship with joel was put to the test after a fuck up on patrol that left you embarrassed and overly defensive. despite every urge to exacerbate the problem, you tried your best to make the most of the situation and get along....mostly.

word count: 7.5k

Despite the ear-splitting gnashing of teeth next to your face and the painful clawing at the raw skin of your décolletage, you couldn’t help that in the back of your mind all you could think was: You fucking moron, you’re going to die in the most embarrasing way possible. Even fear seemed to have left you, as you struggled in the choking grip of the runner in front of you that was desperately trying to sink its teeth into the soft flesh of your neck. All that remained was adrenaline, humiliation, and the sinking feeling that if you were to meet your demise in this moment, it would be Joel Miller, of all people, that found your torn apart frame on the floor. Joel Miller, who had expressly warned you to stay where you were until he returned from checking the back of the building for intruders. Joel Miller, who somehow always made you feel like an incompetent child. 

When you had first approached the roadside gas station and small bait shop that was the destination for your current patrol route, both of you had slowed down and pulled out your weapons at the sight of a beat up pick up truck haphazardly parked across the verge separating the gas pumps from the road. This was new, not having been reported by the previous patrol duo. Joel quickly assumed the position of the team leader.

“Stay here. I’ll check the back entrance,” Joel muttered as quietly as he could, still ensuring that he could be heard over the whistling wind from the snow that had been picking up speed since you first departed from the Jackson gates. As the snow crunched under his boots with each receding step, you were seething. 

The audacity of this man who had spent the last ten months ignoring you to immediately try and give you orders, you brooded silently. You weren’t even supposed to be here, for God’s sake. It was the unfortunate result of poor scheduling over the Christmas holidays, as well as the skilled persuasion by your closest friend, Maria, that you were even stuck on this patrol to begin with. Sure, it was one of the shorter journeys for patrol pairs, one that only required travel on foot, but that was still a miserable three hours with Joel Miller. Three whole hours of curt answers and second-guessing your decisions. So, the instant he was out of sight, you tucked away your gun into your waistband and folded your arms across your chest, rubbing your ungloved hands against the sides of your arms to try and create some warmth.

The natural instinct in you to piss him off outweighed any logic that you’d previously believed you’d been in abundance of, as you made that decision to ignore his instructions so flippantly as soon as he had turned his back to you. Besides, the truck was clearly empty, the store shutters were undisturbed, and there were no tracks to be seen in the snow that had persistently been coating the floor for days now.

The irritation that only Joel Miller seemed to inspire had clearly blinded you to your next bad decision, as you spotted something through the windshield of the truck. A perfectly intact Spider-Man bobblehead, right there for the taking on the dashboard. Ellie would love that. You exhaled hot air into your icy hands to warm them up as you plodded along to the car, already picturing the teens’ excited face at the impromptu gift. The next few moments seemed to pass in bullet time as you heard it within seconds of leaning into the enclosed space of the front seat. The wind was no longer able to muffle the pained guttural groans.

Grotesque and dripping with congealed blood was an emaciated looking runner, face sunken in and ghoulish. It practically scampered up towards you from the floor of the backseat, moving in jerky convulsions while its teeth bit at the empty air in anticipation. You jumped back from where you had been leaning into the car, arm outstretched for the bobblehead, and your heel promptly made contact with a patch of ice. Your ass hit the ground, shooting a sharp pain through your tailbone that you had no choice but to ignore as you attempted to scramble back up to your feet. 

The runner dove head first out from the backseat, the snapping of its jaw seeming to lead its body faster than any of its limbs, giving you the opportunity to send a hard kick directly into its head. Stumbling back up, you were able to grab the handle of your trusty switchblade in the few seconds it took for the beast to reorient itself. 

With a quick dart forward, you plunged the knife into the closest spot that would have any sort of impact on its mobility: its kneecap. At least some of your survival instincts were still in place. You made sure to wrench the knife from side to side, a visceral squelching sound being emitted from the tearing ligaments. In a different life the sound probably would have turned your stomach, but now you were just flooded with gratitude that you actually remembered to sharpen the old blade before leaving.

“Jooooeellll!” You felt the scream for help rip out of your throat, and immediately regretted it despite the dire situation. He would not exactly be thrilled at your blatant disregard for his instructions.

The continued effort to stumble back while avoiding any more patches of ice was proving to be successful, until you felt your back slam painfully against the cold metal store shutters behind you. Fuck. You had miscalculated your distance and had nowhere to turn, despite the monster hobbling towards you being slowed down by its new injury. These creatures didn’t feel pain, so regardless of the fact that you could see the white of bone jutting out from the torn flesh of its knee, it continued to progress forward.

Desperately trying to lift your knife from your side while holding the full weight of the beast back with one arm, you were unable to stop yourself from thinking about what Joel would think of you for your mistakes. The blustery air did nothing to cool the heat in your cheeks as you continued to struggle, hating yourself for even thinking of someone like Joel in the face of literal death.

As you were beginning to lose hope, arms shaking from the effort of holding the runner back, strong hands suddenly appeared from behind its shoulders to drag it straight to the ground. You heard a sickening pop as the partially torn leg finally gave out after being heaved backwards at such a strange angle. You were practically hyperventilating, finally feeling time speed up again as you watched Joel take his boot and slam it into the head of the runner, over and over and over again, until all that was left was a puddle of viscera under his foot. The creature was clearly fresh, still more human than mushroom, and pieces of bone and brain matter decorated the floor. You stared, unable to tear your eyes away from the haunting sight. 

Joel was breathing heavily as he finally ceased his brutalisation of the corpse, seemingly having decided that what was left of the zombie would probably not be able to get back up. He slowly looked over at you, undisguised rage clouding his handsome features, and he clamped his jaw shut.  Any embarrassment that you were still feeling morphed into pure, unbridled shame under the weight of his disdainful look.

“I told you one fucking thing.” Is all he deigned to say. You were glad as you could barely hear him over the pounding in your ears, anyway.

Refusing to give you a second look, he shifted the entirety of his attention to unlocking and lifting the metal roller blocking the door, making it apparent to you that there had been no other threat in the area.

Something like anger and sadness both bubbled up in you simultaneously, and you kept your eyes trained on the ground as you walked to avoid giving him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. As he locked the door behind you both and began looking around the store shelves for something, you pressed your freezing fingers against your face as subtly as you could, trying to physically cool off the burning sensation in your cheeks. 

You weren’t a child. You weren’t an idiot. The judgement of this man should not have been hurting you as much as it was, but as much as you insisted that you hated him, some semblance of respect and even care for the man still existed deep within you.

A quick glance up to where he was standing reminded you of something that you had somehow spotted outside, despite the carnage. His boots. Green laces. You were the one to find them for him, ten months ago.

His incessant muttering and pacing were really starting to piss you off. Fine, you made a mistake. Fine, you technically could have died. You were already mortified because of it. Did he really have to keep exhaling so dramatically and making as much noise as possible with each empty crate he moved in his not-so-subtle attempt at finding the supplies that he should definitely know the location of? All you wanted was for him to cease his incessant pacing around the dusty shelves, especially since he started to make deliberate eye contact with you over them to send you withering glares.

“Are you done?” You found yourself asking sarcastically from where you were perched on the long disconnected chest freezer pushed against the right wall. You had been fidgeting restlessly with your fingers since you took your seat, trying to calm the slight shake in your hands from the leftover adrenaline.

He lifted his head up from where he now stood, flipping through the worn pages of the log book on the counter. As annoyed as you were, it was hard to deny the way something in your chest still jumped with each brief moment of eye contact.

“Excuse me?” He asked with an exasperated tone, almost as if each word he spoke was physically exhausting him.

“I said,” You finally hopped down from where you were sitting and watching him sulk, and slowly started to take a few cautious steps towards him. A loud creak reverberated out from the rickety old wooden floorboards with each step as you closed the distance between the two of you.

“Are you done? You know, with the whole I'm Joel Miller, I’ve never made a mistake in my life act.” You drawled with an exaggerated Texan accent in your poor imitation of him, feeling emboldened by his increasingly frustrated look. “I fucked up, I know that. You can go right ahead and relax, you’ve already made it very clear that you disapprove.”

He straightened up in one swift movement and threw the pen down against the counter, hands coming down to rest on his hips. Suddenly you felt like a child about to be reprimanded by a teacher.

“Y'know, you’re bein’ awful ungrateful for someone that I could’ve just left there to die.”

It was so typical of him to insinuate that you weren’t as capable or strong as he was, despite the fact that when Joel first arrived in Jackson, you had been the one to show him the ropes. That is, of course, before Joel summarily decided that he no longer wanted to take instruction from you.

It had been a long ten months since that day, and your relationship had become practically non-existent, if not tense and uncomfortable in the few situations you were still forced to interact in. The bond you had built with Ellie meant that there were many days that you had to see him during mornings when you promised to walk her to the schoolhouse. Joel would be sure to give you a polite nod, his Southern manners enduring regardless of the change in your relationship, to which you would roll your eyes or just simply ignore him.

Maria, your closest friend in Jackson, would regularly invite you to dinner with her and Tommy, usually choosing not to warn you that the older Miller brother would be making an appearance. It would take all of your strength to suppress the urge to cuss Joel out at the slightest infraction, knowing that Tommy would be disappointed at how quickly your friendship had disintegrated. 

Truthfully, you were well aware of just how petty and immature you were being. You just couldn’t help yourself when you thought about how good things had been before he made his choice to rebuff you. Your friendship had been easy, and caring, and you had even started to feel…things that you hadn’t ever felt for someone before. Pettiness made it easier to shove those feelings away, even if you knew it wasn’t exactly helping your case that you were definitely, totally, unaffected by his rejection.

You had reached the cracked acrylic counter separating you, and you tried to ignore the way his gaze remained trained onto your face as you approached. The quiet anger was visible in his eyes, like he couldn’t even believe your defensiveness when it was so obvious that you were in the wrong. You slammed a fist straight down on the counter, effectively shutting down the part of your brain that would always lose focus at the mere sight of his deep, brown eyes, angry or otherwise. The sharp pain radiating through your hand acted as the physical reminder you needed to keep your anger burning for him to see, rather than letting it falter under the power of his eyes studying you.

“Please,” you rolled your eyes dramatically, “I had the situation firmly under control. I mean, thank you, obviously, it’s not like swooping in like that didn’t help, but don’t act like I wasn’t a second away from killing that thing myself.”

Joel continued to watch you with an incredulous expression across his face, before he chose to merely scoff in response. 

“Whatever you say, doll," he said in that low, dismissive tone that you were well acquainted with, before picking the pen back up to continue writing his note in the logbook. 

The trait you had grown to hate the most in him was his dismissiveness. As if you weren’t even worthy of his anger, like you were just an incompetent child that he could be done with whenever he chose. It was a trait that was apparently reserved just for you. No matter what you would say to push his buttons, to even get a negative reaction from him, his response was to shut you down and not engage. It exasperated you that that hurt more than if he just yelled at you.

“God, you are the fucking worst, Miller. I’m not just saying anything, alright? I think most people would agree that it was an accurate assessment of the situation. What, do I need to be so fucking touched by your heroism that I’m on my knees with gratitude?” You paused before starting to stammer as you realised the unintended double meaning of what you just said. He clearly also heard the innuendo, if the tightened grip on the pen in his fist was any indication. “I-I mean, like, you’re not a God or…whatever… where I would need to beg for forgiveness at your feet! I fucked up, and you helped, but I would have been fine either way!”

His face betrayed no emotions, just letting you rant at him. You were running out of steam quickly from his lack of response, and your mouth grew dry as you realised that he really had no intentions of participating in your little outburst. It left you, as always, to be the one making a fool of themselves. 

“Well, say something!” You insisted, shoving the book out from under his hand, in an attempt to get him to look up from where he was staring. “Say what you really think of me Miller, say why you always have to make me feel like I’m a fuck up.”

He finally moved to slowly close the logbook and place it back under the counter where it belonged, letting you stand there with your chest heaving in anger that was probably disproportionate to the situation. Joel finally looked back down at your face.

Something in his eyes took you off guard. It felt different to how he had ever looked at you before, almost heavy. In your peripheral vision you could see his hand shift across the counter top, gently tracing his index finger across one of the cracks in the acrylic while his eyes slowly scanned over your facial features. They finally settled on your eyes, and you could tell that any trace of visible anger you had in your face had faded away in anticipation for what he was about to say.

‘You could have died. Y’know that right?’ His tone seemed somehow defeated for even having to say the words.

You shifted on your feet uncomfortably as his eyes remained locked on yours, as if he was trying to make you understand something he was saying, something deeper than just the few words he had used. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your slightly torn shirt as you looked for words. Why did he seem almost…hurt at the thought of something happening to you? Anger or even disappointment would have been explainable, but this was indecipherable to you.

A loud crack echoed through the room suddenly, as some debris outside clanged against metal shutters from the wind. The spell was broken, as you both jumped in place at the disturbance. You decided to take the opportunity to take a small, stabilising, step back.

The only conclusion that you were able to come to about his statement was that he felt guilty. Maybe he thought that you were under his responsibility while you patrolled together, and that he somehow failed? You immediately balked at the thought of Joel somehow feeling responsible for you, as if he thought you couldn’t handle it outside of the walls by yourself.

“I know that I could have died”’ You swallowed bitterly. 

You tap the hand still on the counter against the grimy plastic a few times, deliberating whether you should add something else but deciding against it at the last second.

And yet, as you finally walked past him into the staff room at the back of the store, it slipped out anyway.

“As if that would even matter to you.”

Pushing open the door with some effort, thanks to the rusted hinges, you were greeted with the sight of the supplies that Joel had been working oh-so-diligently at finding, sitting in plain sight on one of two metal storage shelves. The old ham radio that was the reason for you entering the room sat on the small table that took up the corner of the room. 

Before reaching to grab the mic, you paused for a second and leaned back against the shut door, taking in a few deep, calming breaths that evaded you earlier. You hated how easily he was able to bring you to anger, how quickly your face would burn with indignation while he was able to remain as unaffected as always. Whatever you had done to inspire this distaste for you must have been unforgivable, given how it seemed to persist enough that he wouldn’t even be able to spend the effort to argue with you. 

As you gathered yourself you couldn’t stop your thoughts from drifting back to your somewhat brief, yet impactful friendship with Joel.

He had shown up just over a year ago, Ellie in tow, and you had immediately accepted them with open arms. You were one of the lucky ones, finding Jackson with your two siblings while you were still in your mid twenties. Having almost ten years of safety and community was enviable to many of those who showed up in Jackson. It was your awareness of this fact that encouraged you to work harder and longer hours than the vast majority of those tasked with the safety of Jackson. It was the least you could do, after all,  and if you were able to do anything that would spare the added trauma for those that had barely scraped their way into safety, you would do so with a smile. 

Joel and Ellie weren’t the first to arrive at the gates  hardened and traumatised at the brutality beyond the gates, and you pitied them. It didn’t come from a place of patronization. They were both clearly strong, physically and emotionally, for surviving what they had. But watching the weary look in their eyes at the comforts you had begun to take for granted had you wishing that the world had been kinder to them. 

By the end of the first week, Tommy insisted that you take Joel on as a patrol partner. He felt that Joel making a friend could soften him up a bit, maybe even break down a couple of the walls that locked out everyone but Tommy and Ellie. Besides, he teased Joel, who else was patient enough to teach an old man like him the proper way to do things? 

You soon found yourself spending all of your spare time with him and Ellie. Between instructing Joel about how to most effectively utilise their horses when facing small groups of raiders, to lounging on their couch as Ellie demanded that he let her get a tattoo for the millionth time, the two became fixtures in your life. As always, Joel’s answer would be a firm not until you’re eighteen to which Ellie would stomp off to the garage, leaving you both chuckling in her wake. 

Joel appeared to like your presence. The one-word answers he had given you at the start or your relationship quickly shifted into full conversations. He always furrowed his brow with put-on disapproval when you tried to teach him your lesson of the week, before, like clockwork, admitting that your methods weren’t too shabby. He even regularly took your advice when it came to Ellie, valuing your input that Ellie was old enough to rebel a little bit. 

Ellie had been so grateful when he finally allowed her to resume hanging out with her new friends following the weed incident, that she gave both of you a huge bear hug. The smile gracing Joel’s face for the rest of the day made your knees feel weak, especially whenever he directed it at you in gratitude for your advice. The embarrassed laugh that followed when you teased him about his own teenage years, courtesy of a drunk Tommy babbling at you one evening, resulted in you needing to grip onto the kitchen counter next to you for strength. 

The third month of your friendship brought with it disapproving shakes of the head from Maria everytime she caught you looking at him for a second too long. You would promptly shrug and make a confused face to indicate that she was the one being weird for even implying that you might have been getting attached.

Family dinners and boozy evenings in the Tipsy Bison continued on a regular basis. Joel was still himself. Gruff and slightly mean towards anyone that wasn’t Ellie or Tommy, but he would laugh at your jokes. Really laugh, in a way that made warmth radiate through your chest and into your fingertips. The elbow nudges that Tommy would give to you in response were a lot less accusatory than Maria’s looks, merely appreciating that Joel had somebody to make him laugh. Ellie had been the one to change him, letting Joel give himself permission to feel joy again, but damn if it didn’t make Tommy relieved to see Joel allow himself that with other people too.

Whenever you would find small things outside the wall that you thought he could use, he would accept with a small smile, rather than immediately rejecting it with a short “I have everythin’ I need.”

Even on days that he wouldn’t be on patrol with you, you would find him at the stables, just coincidentally with an extra thermos of coffee in hand despite his insistence that he just had to check in with the stable workers.

It was these small moments that made you realise that you were falling for him. As much as you wanted to shy away from those feelings, wanting to avoid the potential awkwardness of rejection, you had almost convinced yourself that he was starting to feel the same way. There was something about the way his hand lingered when he boosted you onto your horse, or when he would wrap an arm around you for warmth the second you dared to shiver in his presence.

This delusion came crashing down one summer evening five months into your friendship, as you entered the Tipsy Bison and were immediately pulled aside by Tommy, before you even had a chance to raise a hand in a wave at the table where Joel sat with Ellie and her friend, Cat. Tommy quietly explained to you in the corner of the room that you were no longer patrolling with Joel, effective immediately. He grimaced at your attempt at protest, and even more so when you asked when he was going to tell Joel. The immediate suspicion at this reaction was quickly confirmed when you looked over Tommy’s shoulder at Joel, who was watching the pair of you intently before quickly shifting to look back at the teens sitting in front of him. His face said it all. This was his choice.

You decided to let Tommy off the hook with a quiet, “I understand,” before stalking out of the bar, shoving past the multiplying crowd that tried to funnel inside. 

After a few days of trying and failing to catch him alone between shifts on patrol, you were finally able to grab Joel by the arm and physically pull him aside on his porch as he tried to enter his home late one evening. His refusal to even look at you acted as the fuel you needed to begin your aggressive diatribe.

‘What the fuck, Joel?” You asked, unable to stop your leg from bouncing while you stood. 

“Did you need something?” Was his curt response, face hard and so deeply unlike the way he would typically look at you.

“Why did you want to switch partners? Did I do something wrong?” The wobble in your voice betrayed the hurt you had tried to tuck away inside of you, and you suddenly felt incredibly silly for confronting him. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me? I was having dinner with you and Ellie literally the night before. And you’ve been avoiding me since then.” 

He seemed to think through his response carefully before speaking. The warm brown eyes that you were accustomed to were almost black, and his brows were tightly furrowed as he spoke. “Thought it’d be easier to get Tommy to pass the message along. He’s always been the more cordial type. Didn’ think it needed to be a whole thing.” 

He started to unlock his front door, back turning to you as he continued.

“I jus’ felt that things were getting a little too cosy over here. I know what I need to know when patrolling, and I sure as hell don’t need any more hand holding from someone who’s barely known a life that wasn’ all…soft and easy.”

The door opened to the dark hallway and he stepped in and grabbed something from the console table by the door. It was your purple fleece blanket, the one that you, Joel, and Ellie had been sitting under just a few nights ago while watching one of Joel’s favourite westerns. He shoved it towards your hands. “There, been meanin’ to get that back to you. No need to drag this out any longer.”

Your jaw clenched as you stared at the blanket, quickly snatching it from him as the embarrassment flooded your body. How could you have let yourself think that he actually wanted you here with him? 

“Y’know what, Joel. Fuck you.” You said with a sniff. You quickly turned and walked away, refusing to give him an opportunity to respond. 

After throwing the soft blanket in the coat closet of your home haphazardly, you decided to head straight to the Bison for a strong drink. The first good looking man with brown eyes and broad shoulders that you saw ended up taking you home, in the first of your many attempts to extricate your feelings from Joel.

A scraping noise from the other room brought you back, reminding you that you had a task at hand, and with a click of the button on the small handheld mic, you spoke.

“Jackson, this is the bait and tackle shop, checking in.” While you waited for a response from Jackson, you sat on an old stool and angrily picked at the loose threads hanging from the ripped hem of your shirt. Stupid Miller, making you feel inferior and indebted to him. Not even giving you the decency of fighting with you. 

At least a conversation with Alfred, the kindly old man who took the late shift for the radio office in Jackson, always made you feel better. His old war stories of encrypting and sending radio signals got you through many lonely evenings at the Tipsy Bison, and he had become sort of a grandpa-like figure to you.

“Hey there, birdie, we hear ya.” You heard some paper moving, as he shuffled through to find the appropriate area map. “Snow’s getting pretty bad out here, it’s looking like you’re going to need to buckle down and wait it out for the morning. It’ll be a longer walk than usual with the way the wind is whipping up the snow.” No, no, nope. Not happening.

You bolted up and leaned over the table with the radio, as if it was possible that you had merely heard him wrong and getting closer to the speaker would fix things. 

“No, Alf, it’ll be fine, I can’t stay here overnight with-’’ You cut yourself off, suddenly aware of how loud you were talking and let out a long suffering sigh. “It’s just. The snow’s not that bad, we’ll probably be fine walking back.”

Alfred makes some deliberation noises, unnecessarily keeping his mic on the whole time as if he thought it would make you feel better that he was actually considering it, before finally responding.

“I don’t know, kid…I would feel guilty if you froze to death out there. I know you don’t get along too well with that Miller boy.” Alfred hesitates once again, before sighing. “I’m sorry, dove, I can’t let you walk in this weather.”

You groaned dramatically into the microphone, rubbing your spare hand across your eyes wearily. With a quick peek at the shut door in front of you to check for shadows through the frosted glass that might indicate that Joel is listening, you lowered your tone to what seemed like a sufficiently quiet level, and continued. 

“I just. I fu-”  you paused, remembering the old man's dislike for sailor talk. “I made a mistake. Everything's fine, no one is hurt! Just. He's doing that thing where he makes me feel like an idiot. And it just sucks because it’s like I proved him and his stupid doubts about me right. I hate when he’s right.”

“Birdie, you know that you're not an idiot. You do the same job as him, and I can tell you from experience that you don't call back to Jackson with any more issues on the road than he does. Who cares what that silly boy thinks about you? More importantly, are you going to let it get in the way of doing a good job?”

You let a small smile pass onto your face. He knew you well, and your bruised ego for the earlier mishap was already painful enough without adding any more unprofessionalism into the mix. People in Jackson relied on you, and you wouldn’t let a man who clearly didn’t think about you more than he needed to to get into your head.

“You’re right, Alf. If you say we need to hang out here overnight, we can do that.” You made sure to shake off any remaining angst that had uncharacteristically been plaguing you since you first got given this job, and tried to become the person that people in Jackson knew you as. “Just to confirm, we will be utilising the emergency supplies here, so please note down that the food, water, and oil for the lamps will need replenishing by the next pair out.”

You could practically hear the smile on the old man’s face, “Will do, dove. Good night. Don’t kill each other.”

After placing the receiver back in place you take in a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. The herculean task of thanking Miller sincerely and being amicable for the rest of the evening was daunting. It practically made you shudder, but you would be lying if you didn’t acknowledge that there was a part of you excited at the prospect. You missed him, as absurd as that was given your history.

With an armful of sleeping bags, a lamp, a couple of pouches of jerky, and a glass bottle labelled ‘Pete’s- Hands off!’ you exited the staff room, trying to appear as confident as you would be on a typical, Joel-less day. You plopped the items down on the counter unceremoniously, looking up to find him now sitting on an old camping chair in the darkness. Barely any moonlight made it through the thin gaps of the shutters, so you focused your attention on lighting the lamp, ignoring the weight of his stare on your form as you did so.

“Heads up,” you called out a moment later, quickly grabbing and tossing a pouch of jerky at him. The trajectory of the throw was mostly aimed towards his hands, but you did use a careless flick of the wrist that would have absolutely resulted in it smacking against his body if his reflexes weren’t annoyingly good for his age.

The lit lamp that you placed on the floor between you and Joel brought the room into a softer state, and you could see that the earlier anger on Joel’s face had at least partially subsided. You dragged an old crate that once held fishing lures and flipped it, sitting down to his left hand side, before opening your own pouch of jerky and digging into the stale meat. 

"So," You began hesitantly, lifting your eyes from the floor to where he sat, feeling a pang of an emotion you didn’t want to identify when you found him already looking at you. "I guess I just wanted to say thank you. Properly. For saving me, or whatever. I shouldn’t have approached the car without backup."

If it hadn’t been so awkward, you probably would have been laughing at his incredulous face, eyebrows lifted upwards in shock at your sudden attempt at sincere appreciation. When it became clear that you weren’t waiting to attack again, he finally spoke up.

"It’s alright. Could have happened to anyone, I suppose." He seems almost unsettled at your sudden shift in attitude, but also doesn’t seem to want to provoke you again.

You bit back any part of you that wanted to emphasise that it really could have happened to anyone, even with experience, and instead focused on chewing the tough meat. It was surprising to say the least, when Joel was the first one to speak again. 

"Why did you, though? Tommy say something about needing another vehicle?" Joel’s tone was hesitant, as if he felt he shouldn’t be continuing the conversation any further. 

"Oh. Um. No, I wasn’t going to check on the car. I just saw a bobblehead on the dash. Spider-Man. I thought Ellie might have liked it." Your eyes narrowed as you looked at Joel, expecting him to start on you again. What you didn’t expect was the short laugh that followed. It was nice, and you couldn’t help the small smile in return at your own expense.

"Spider-Man, huh? What a reason to risk getting bit." He passed you the final stick of jerky from the pouch he was holding as he spoke. A peace offering. With a wipe of his hands against his jeans, he continued. "Y’all are still close, aren’t you?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

Your leg bounced at the use of the term ‘still.’ As in, despite everything between us. You batted that thought away quickly. The friendship between you and Joel had crashed and burned after he decided that he couldn’t work with you anymore, but Ellie had only seemed to latch on tighter. Whenever you pointed out that he didn’t seem to think you were worth getting to know, Ellie would roll her eyes at you.

"Yeah, I guess we are. Is that a problem?" You said while shifting in your seat, knowing that he probably would be well within his rights to tell you to stay away from his child. "Because I can tell you right now that despite her insistence, I’ve refused to teach her how to throw knives, at least not until she turns sixteen-" 

"What? No. Should I be concerned?" He cut you off with a concerned look on his face.

Realising that you may have just given Ellie up, you fake a laugh that Joel could have believed if he hadn’t heard your real laugh so many times before.

"No, of course not. That was just a hypothetical." He continued to stare you down, resulting in you giving in more quickly than you were proud of. "Don’t….tell her I told you that."

He gave you an actual laugh at your desperate plea, a sound you hadn’t heard for almost a year. That familiar warmth in your chest and fingertips returned at the sound, and you found yourself chuckling too. Thoughts of all of the times that he would begrudgingly break when you teased him, despite insisting that you weren’t funny rushed through your mind. And how he would threaten to sic Ellie on you whenever you teased him for his achy knees. And how tight your chest would feel when he would look at you over from on his horse while you rode beside each other. As if…No. Nope. Those memories had been securely tucked away in the back of your mind for months now, and you sure as hell were not going to let them out after a year of getting nothing from him. 

You forced the smile off of your face in an instant and stood up somewhat abruptly.

"I-uh, found something in the supplies!" The broad grin you plastered on was an attempt at masking your strange behaviour, but, frankly, a smile from you aimed at Joel was strange enough in of itself. 

Joel watched as you grabbed the glass bottle and lifted it into the air with a little shake to show it off.

"It’s fucking cold in here. This’ll warm us right up!" You said as you uncorked the bottle and immediately tossed back a healthy swig of the mysterious clear liquid. Yep, definitely moonshine. And yes, definitely strong.

A couple of drinks in, and things had already become so much easier between you two. Not only were you both warmer, in spite of the blizzard on your doorstep that was making your breath visible in the air, but you were both laughing freely. 

"And then, he takes the shot and the bullet whizzes by, easily fifteen feet from the deer! The way that smug look dropped off of his stupid face…" You trailed off, cheeks slightly reddened from the alcohol that was far stronger than even the typical homemade stuff back at the Tipsy Bison. Whoever brewed this batch clearly anticipated the need for the strongest shit possible in a bottle small enough to fit in an emergency supply cache, and for that you were appreciative. 

You were sitting on the floor,, one knee up and your back against one of the empty shelves that once held fishing rods. The crate you had been sitting on now held your winter coat, inadvisably discarded due to the sudden heat you felt. Joel sat back in his chair, a far sight more relaxed than he was a mere hour ago. He was chuckling at your mockery of Emmett, your current patrol partner who was definitely a beginner at hunting.

Joel’s shadows danced across the dark room as he lightly shook from the laughter, illuminated by the cheap oil lamp that sat in front of you, and you watched with a dazed grin. His presence used to be a comforting one for you, and seeing his shape fill up a room again made you feel strangely at peace. With the gift of alcohol in your system, it was easy to ignore the painful familiarity that came from being with him like this. You bring your chin over to rest on your raised knee as you look up at him while he speaks.

"That boy definitely has too big of a mouth for his own good. I heard him out in the Bison a week or so ago, going off at a couple of the other guys about how he’s always pullin’ all these different ladies." He shook his head in disapproval while bringing the bottle back up to his lips, taking a generous drink.

"Oh yeah? He say anything about me?" You couldn’t help yourself from asking with a teasing grin. Just the previous week you had to turn Emmett down after he insisted that he could show you a good time. He was a handsome young man, but his age and his use of the term ‘older ladies’ when describing his type made it clear that he would be too annoying to even spend one night with. Besides, you were only in your early thirties, and the thought of being with someone that considered that ‘older' made you physically cringe.

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You into him? I didn’ take you for the type that would want a…pretty boy." He says derisively while picking at the label on the bottle.

You were momentarily distracted by the flex of his calloused fingers against the bottle before snapping out of it to respond, "Eh, I guess you don’t know me that well, then do you, Miller?"

His fingers froze in place and he looked at you humorlessly, causing you to awkwardly laugh and acquiesce "Nah, of course not. He just keeps pulling stupid shit to try and impress me. I had to finally put my foot down the other day and tell him that him wasting ammo on trick shots wasn’t gonna let him into my pants."

Joel let out a small breath that sounded sort of like a laugh but not quite, as he resumed picking at the crumbling label and confirming "I s’pose that means you aren't the cougar he was seeing, then?"

A dramatic gasp escaped your lips. "That son of a bitch! Oh, I am going to give him hell next week. No wonder his little buddies have been givin’ me weird looks recently."

Joel laughed for real that time and you were unable to help yourself from relaxing back against the shelf at the sweet sound.

"I don't know why they would partner you with someone like that," he chuckled, reaching over to finally pass you the bottle that he had been holding. 

As you grabbed the bottle, your fingers briefly brushed and you sensed him tense slightly. This action, combined with his previous statement, made your stomach feel weird. The alcohol bypassed the part of your brain that was screaming at you to shut up, things are going well! and you found yourself saying, "Well, I guess they did that so I could teach him a coupl‘a things. Some people benefit from a little hand holding, I guess." 

You trained your stare into Joel’s eyes, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction at the way his face fell at you directly addressing how you were once partners.

Quiet taps of your fingernail against the side of the cool glass bottle resting in your hand fill the room while he seems to look for words. Something about your statement caught him off guard, as if he somehow didn’t think that you would remember or care about his words. Realising this unsettled him, and you revelled in the glimpse of vulnerability that appeared across his face. 

"I s’pose that makes sense." He finally acknowledged, looking deeply uncomfortable at the way you continued to stare at him bitterly.

"I guess it does."

A few more beats passed in silence as you waited with bated breath for anything, an acknowledgment, an apology, hell, even another insulting explanation for his choices, anything, but it didn’t come. You let out a quiet sigh, placing the bottle on the floor as you stood and dusted off your pants.

"I think I’m gonna call it a night, Joel."

He nodded without a word, eyes remaining stuck at the point on the ground where you had been sitting. Rather than waste your time waiting for anything else from him, you turned and grabbed one of the thin sleeping bags that sat on the counter, walking over to the side of the room furthest from where Joel was still sitting and rolling it out in one quick move. 

Now that you were far away from the heat he naturally seemed to radiate, the cold suddenly felt a lot more biting against your skin. You crawled into the sleeping bag, rolling to face the wall and pressing your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to just fall asleep and get this confusing evening over with. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was a quiet, defeated sigh from the opposite side of the room.

a/n: nobody look at me rn okay, i'm juST TRYING SOMETHING OUT!!!!! okay. well. this the first fic i've written and it's looking like it's gonna be 3 parts. please give me any kind of feedback!!!

also a huge collosal thank you to @sinsofsummers for helping me SO MUCH and generally being the most incredible human angel creature to walk the earth with endless patience

[thelocal-shifter-kai]

Sebastian crack fic

Heya! Really hope you enjoy this fic. I'd say it's pretty funny, have fun reading!

You've started to forget when the first time you explored the blacksite was, or when you even started working for UrbanShade.. or why you started working for them.. When was the last time you died? You seemed to lose track, the memories just keep blurring together.

But there are some pros, on most of your runs and all of your returns you would see and talk to sebastian!

You and him were somewhat friends? At least that's what you thought. With the amount of times you died he would chat with you a bit, you and him could hold up a good conversation for awhile. He'd laugh at you. You'd laugh at him, you guys would banter and just have fun.

Though during one of your runs you found.. something very interesting and odd, no matter what happened, what routes you took, how fast or slow…. You had never seen something like this from the outside world. A fucking air fryer, where on earth did this come from? How did it get here? So many questions were going through your head. Your main question was how did this get here, God probably doesn't know where.

And neither do you.

Next to it you found some gold. A mini-fridge next to the air fryer. You might've found food in the blacksite! You eagerly open the mini-fridge as you seem to find diamonds. Food. You actually found a normal frozen package of food in the blacksite! You pick it up and look at what glorious type of food it might be… and its fish sticks.

The irony is almost painful. Emphasis on almost. The fact you're friends with Sebastian doesn't matter right now when you cook them in the air fryer. This is food, he out of all people would take this chance just as you are.

It felt like forever for them to cook but when it was done and you opened the air fryer it smelled like heaven, even if you didn't like fish before. You burn yourself getting some normal food out of the airfryer and trying to eat them, this was heaven, you were at the pearly gates of heaven eating these.

At least it was heaven compared to this hellish place you've been in for god knows how long. You've died so many times, but.. with this. You feel like you're not stuck here, like you're still in the outside world. Like before you were trapped in this hell.

You do eat most of the fish sticks but this heaven pack had a lot of them, you did cook them all. While putting the rest of them back in the bag you get a terrible great idea! Why not trade these to sebastian for an item? You didn't actually plan on doing that but you thought it would be a funny idea!

Going through the rooms you see that familiar vent break open as sebastian calls you in.

He greets you as normal, seemingly not noticing the heavenly smell of the food. He turns on his light for the shop, smiling at you. “Hello.. good to see you’re back, in need any items?” His tone is neutral but you can tell he's genuinely happy to see you. Sadly, what you're planning on doing to him might ruin that happiness.

You have a lot of research but you're gonna see what happens if you try to bribe him with food. You may not have his file but you know he's been here for a long time, who knows when he's last eaten?

“Why.. why would I want fish sticks instead of research???” His confusion just keeps growing, with a hint of sarcasm slowly building up.

You start to ask as confusion etches itself on Sebastian's face. “Could I buy something with fish sticks?” the confusion just sets in more as the silence is loud, after what feels like hours he just stares at you with utter confusion in his voice. “I'm sorry, what did you just say?” Poor sebastian is just completely confused. He doesn't know what to say. You hand him the bag, he opens it, looks inside for a minute, he just stares at you again, possibly even more confused. Somehow.

Unfortunately he steals the rest of your fish sticks and asks you “How on earth did you find and cook fish sticks!? How did you find normal food in the blacksite??” You start to explain and his confusion just seems to grow, in fact.. You've never seen... So much confusion on anything, ever.

“So.. let me get this straight. You some random expendable somehow found an air fryer and a mini-fridge, just to open the mini-fridge and find fish sticks. You somehow cooked them, you came here and tried to bribe me with fish sticks?? And you thought that would work??” He stares at you desperately waiting for an answer

“kinda??” as you say that he face-palms “Why would you do that when we've already established that RESEARCH is what you buy my items with.” his voice tells you that he thinks you're an absolute idiot.

“Not really, I thought it would be funny, to be honest it kinda was” you just caused him to have another face-palm. This annoyed you, because he refuses to give you back your fish sticks.

Sebastian picks you up like a mother cat would their kitten, but with his hand and it's the back of your uniform. “You'll what. I am a giant mutant fish with a shotgun. What are you going to do to me? There is quite literally nothing you can do.”

You manage to get yourself out of his grasp and while he realizes that you aren't in his hand anymore you have to be fast, so you quickly get up to grab a flash beacon from his tail and shoot him to make sebastian let go of his food.. you then shoot him with the flash beacon “GUAGH” he pulls out his shotgun and shoots you.

You don't get a file document from sebastian, although it wouldn't take a genius to know who killed you. All sebastian tells you is.. “I warned you..”

Next thing you remember is waking up back in your bed, of the UrbanShade prison. You get up knowing you'll have to get ready for your next run. Memories coming back about how you were killed by sebastian over fish sticks.

You really can't tell if it was a stupid dream or sebastian really killed you over fish sticks.

At least you'll be able to go back to the blacksite and get your answers. Let's hope sebastian will talk to you and answer your question.

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Peace Offerings Pt. 16

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: As they make their way back to Jackson, the Reader and Joel make a discovery that sparks a desperate hope in Reader and causes them to stray from their original plans to return to their haven.

Chapter Warnings: pitfall trap, claustrophobia, blood, mentions of stab wounds. (A pretty tame chapter ;))

Masterlist

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

Part Sixteen

It wasn’t without pain or sorrow, but Joel and I were making good time on our travels back to Jackson. He’d stopped trying to fill the empty space with distracting dialogue, but he showed he cared in other ways. Since he understood why I could no longer stomach it, he took the jerky for himself and harvested berries and roots for me to fill up on, along with the bread Tommy had snuck us. He handed me our shared canteen every once in a while, making sure I was hydrated, and other small things like that. One thing I appreciated more than anything was that he never asked me how I was doing. I hated that question even before tragedy struck. No one wanted to hear the real answer and always expected you to say “good how are you?” I obviously wasn’t good, so Joel knew there was no point.

I was walking inatentively behind Joel when my foot kicked something hard and a melodic sound rang out. I looked down to see a blue, metal canteen at my feet. My stomach squeezed when I realized how familiar it was. I dropped down to pick it up and turned it around in my hands. The lump in my throat grew larger when I read the name scribbled onto it. 

Matthew Doe

My hands quivered as I stared at the memorabilia, questioning if it was real. Joel had noticed I wasn’t behind him by now and was standing there, trying to be as patient as possible. “What’s that?” he ased as he made his way towards me. “It’s…” I gulped and held the bottle up to him, “It’s Matthew’s canteen.” 

His face dropped as his eyes wandered over the sloppily written signature. “It was his from scouts in high school. Must’ve kept it.” I observed. Joel’s face was now twisted into a puzzled look. “What?” I questioned. He stared at the bottle, looked around us, and then took the map Tommy had given him out of his backpack. “We’re taking an obscure route back. Definitely not one that the watch would take out this way. It’s strange that we’d find his stuff out here if he was… if he died back there.” He thought aloud. “What are you saying?” I asked as a hopeful feeling bubbled through my chest. He breathed deeply and pressed his lips together. Definitely deciding whether to tell me this information or not. “Joel,” I pushed, standing up and grabbing the his hands which were still wrapped around the canteen. He took another breath, “I don’t think he really died at David’s.” My hands were still ontop of his and they tightened around them with anticipation. “So you’re saying…” I began to speak, but he cut me off, “I’m not saying he’s alive, but I think he at least managed to escape.” I stepped away, suddenly feeling a second wind of hope. “I have to find him.” I breathed. My name left Joel’s mouth cautiously, “Let’s be realistic.” I turned to him, “Joel, he could still be alive. I have to find him.” I said again as I began to desperately search for footsteps in the snow. “If you won’t go, I’ll go by myself.” I demanded. He sighed and didn’t answer me for a moment. I gave up and continued to search, pretending not to care whether or not he followed me. “We can look for him if you promise to not get your hopes up. I can’t see you like that again.” Joel blurted from behind me. My eyes met his pitiful ones and I nodded, “I promise. Come on.” 

I was lying. I most definitely had my hopes up. The possibility of Matthew still being alive was the one thing I needed to keep going. Of course it would destroy me all over again to find out he really was dead, but I would be a fool to not take the chance that he could be out there somewhere. 

About 20 feet away, footsteps began to appear in the snow. They manifested in patches of untouched snow. It was like puting together a puzzle piece, but the line of prints was somewhat straight. “Seems like he knew where he was going.” I said aloud as I kept my head trained towards the ground. “That’s because there were two people.” Joel said, pointing out the fact that there were a total four footprints next to each other in each track. “So others in his group survived?” I asked. “Maybe.” Joel shrugged. I felt a smile creep its way to my lips, but I couldn’t let Joel see my optimism and swallowed it down. 

After 30 minutes of following tracks, I felt Joel’s hand wrap around my arm and yank me back forcefully. I glared at him, but he pointed to a barely visible piece of string pulled tought between two trees. “Tripwire.” He grunted, “We’re in someone’s territory. Stay behind me from now on.” I nodded and followed his demand, never letting a distance larger than three feet come between us. 

Joel kept his eyes forward and I kept mine on the ground, looking for tracks along with any more booby traps. The coast was clear until Joel stopped in his tracks, causing me to slam into the back of him. He reached a hand around to steady me. His response being on the opposite end of the spectrum from when we first started our journey. There was no gruff “Watch where you’re going.” No scowl of disapproval. Just a gentle, protective hand curling around my waist. My hands clung to his back at the first sign of trouble and I reluctantly removed them from his warm, muscular form. “What is it?” I asked as I peeked around him. “S’a pitfall trap.” He informed me. The tone of his voice was low. It usually dipped further into the bass clef when he was concerned. “Don’t think these people are gonna be very friendly. You sure you want to get involved here?” His stare was intense as he questioned me. I swallowed hard and nodded, “We’ve gotten through worse before, I’m sure.” He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows before turning around and cautiously feeling out each step to make his way around the trap. I followed behind him, though not as close as before. 

Clearly not close enough. After my next step the ground gave out from under me and I tumbled down into the pit, landing hard on my back. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs and I gasped desperately for air as I sat up on my elbows. Joel immediately leaned over the edge, sheer panic spread across his face as his arm was stretched out towards me. “Shit. Grab on, quick!” He urged. The world felt like it was spinning as I peeled myself off of the ground. I used the wall to keep me upright as I moved to where his hand was outstretched. I reached up as high as I could, even stood on my toes and tried to climb the wall a bit, but the distance between us was still too wide. I heard Joel curse under his breath before standing up and turning to walk away. “Are you going to leave me here?” I asked shrinkedly. “No, I’m not going to leave you here. I’m going to find something for you to grab onto.”  He said it like I was stupid. I sighed and slapped my hands over my face. He was angry at me again. Unlike just minutes ago, we were moving backwards.

Suddenly, I heard a gun cocking and I moved to press myself against the wall and as out of sight as possible. My first instinct was to call for Joel, but I didn’t want to make noise on the small chance that I hadn’t been discovered yet. I was wrong. I stared up at the wide opening of the hole and made eye contact with what looked to be a 10 year old kid. “H-hi.” I said cautiously. “Lucy, get over here.” Another voice called out. It was a man’s. “But daddy, there’s a lady!” She called out. I stood there awkwardly, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. I could only imagine that Joel was looking the opposite. “Yes, honey but there’s a man right here with a gun pointed at us. Stay still.” He said in a soft, informative voice. I heard the safety of the gun being clicked back on and the man breathed, “Thank you.”  My throat tightened when I realized why Joel had put the gun down. It was a little girl.

“I’m John, and this is my daughter, Lucy. I’m unarmed and pose very little threat to you so I appreciate the fact that your gun is pointed at the ground right now.” Joel had no response to the man’s spiel except for a gruff, “Get her out of there.” I rolled my eyes at his lack of manners during this negotiation. “I will, sir, as soon as you drop your weapon and step away from it.” There was a long, silent pause before I heard a muted thump and the sound of Joel’s boots crunching in the snow. The top of his head disappeared from view as he stepped away. I hadn’t realized how much comfort the mere sight of him brought me until it was gone. Once close to frostbite, my palms became slick with sweat. 

After what seemed like the longest minute of my life, a rope ladder dropped down in front of me and I wasted no time scrambling up it. When I reached the last rung, Joel grabbed onto my arm and hoisted me up the rest of the way. “Thank you.” I breathed as I studied my captors. 

 The man was younger than Joel but older than me. No older than 45. He had light brown hair and brown eyes, unlike his daughter who donned blonde curls and crystal blue eyes. She was staring at me with the brightest smile I’d seen in years. “Hi, Lucy.” I said politely. “Hi.” She said excitedly and asked, “What’s your name?” I told her my name, much to Joel’s dismay, but he stood there with a glimmer in his eye as he watched the little girl and I’s exchange. 

“So uh, I assume you guys will be on your way now.” The man said awkwardly. He was desperately trying to seem tough, but his softer side was unmistakable. “Actually,” I blurted before Joel could speak, “We’re looking for someone.” The man’s eyebrows raised. “You are?” He asked. “We have a man! He’s tall and has hair like mine and he’s pretty like you!” The little girl squealed. “Lucy,” her dad reprimanded gently before turning back to Joel and I, “We did have a man stumble onto our property a couple of days ago. He was in real bad shape, had a gash from a cleaver in his chest. Would that be him?” Lucy chimed in again, “He sleeps a lot.” Her dad shot her another look, but gave up on trying to get her to quiet down. 

I almost broke down in tears right then and there. There was no mistaking that it was Matthew. The words weren’t able to leave my mouth so I helplessly looked to Joel who nodded and said, “That might be him.” I swallowed and breathed, “Can we see him?” The man pressed his lips together and thought for a moment before answering.“I guess I can’t say no, can I?” He chuckled awkwardly as his eye shifted between Joel and I.  I stared at him with a blank face that said “No, you cannot.”  He understood my expression. “Well, you two seem like nice people, but before we head back I’m going to need you to hand over all of your weapons. You’ll get ‘em back when you leave. I promise.” My eyes shifted to Joel knowing he’d absolutely hate this idea. 

His eyes flashed with worry, but they softened when they shifted between the girl and I. “Alright.” He sighed as he dropped to the ground to rummage through his bag. I stood there alongside Lucy and watched him pile guns and knives onto the ground. I, too, wondered where he’d gotten all of that from because we most definitely did not leave Jackson that heavyhanded. 

Once the man was in possession of (supposedly) all of Joel and I’s weapons, he began to lead us back to the house. “It’s about a mile through the woods here, and then there’s a small pathway to the house. There are still traps so keep your eyes and ears peeled for my warnings.” The man explained as if he was a tour guide. 

Joel and I had fallen behind the man and his daughter a bit. “You okay? That was a hard fall.” He whispered. “Yeah, surprisingly. Just a little sore.” I croaked. He nodded and looked ahead again. “Joel?” I said, reaching for his hand, “Thank you for doing this.” He wrapped his fingers around my palm and squeezed a bit, “‘Course.” By the way he was looking at me, I swore he was about to lean down and kiss me, but our heads were both jolted ahead by Lucy’s tiny, yet loud voice. “Are you guys married? My mommy and daddy are married and that means they can have babies. They only had one baby and it’s me!.” I almost giggled at her innocence, but the awkwardness of her question turned my cheeks red. I didn’t know what Joel and I were, but we were most certainly not married. “Lucy, that is none of your business. Keep on ahead now, honey.” Her dad said as he shot us an apologetic look. I smiled at him and Joel remained expressionless. The rest of the walk to the house was silent as Lucy became occupied with questioning her dad up ahead. 

My hand was still latched onto Joel’s and it squeezed with anticipation as we started up the stone path to the house. My feet dug further into the ground as we reached the stairs. My anticipation quickly turned to anxiety as I realized I was either getting close to devastation or a miracle. Joel noticed my slowing of pace and squeezed my hand again. “S’okay. I’ve got you.” He whispered. I followed him up the steps and stepped across the threshold of the house. “Honey?” The man called, “We’ve, uh- We’ve got visitors.” A beautiful blonde hair, blue eyed woman shuffled out of the kitchen with a concerned look on her face. Her eyes met Joel’s first and then quickly jotted to mine. She smiled, “Hello.” I smiled and nodded, my throat was too swollen to speak. “They think the man in the back room may be her brother.” John explained. Her face fell and she nodded slightly, “Oh. Okay. He’s sleeping now, but I’m sure you’d still like to see him, right?” She asked me. I nodded again. She held out her hand and I replaced mine from Joel’s to hers. 

The hallway she led me down seemed to feel twice as long due to my anxiousness. She finally stopped infront of a wooden door and knocked lightly. There was no response. Her hand wrapped around the doorknob and cracked it open a bit before gazing in. I tried to peek in over her head but nearly fell when the door opened all of the way. The skinny, gray man laying in the bed slowly moved his head towards the door, his eyes squinting from the light. I could barely see him through my welling eyes, but I knew it was Matthew. I rushed to kneel next to his bed and avoided touching him in case of any injuries. “Matthew.” I breathed. His eyebrows twisted in confusion, “Sis?” He choked. I nodded. “Holy shit,” He reached over and wrapped his arms around me the best that he could, “You found me.” I laid my head onto his chest and breathed deeply for a moment. “I thought you were…” I couldn’t say it, but he cut me off anyway, “I almost was, if it hadn’t been for these folks.” I turned to the woman who was standing in the doorway. “Thank you for saving him.” I sobbed. She nodded and smiled before disappearing back into the hallway.  “How the hell did you find me?” He asked in awe. “Well, they sent a group of us out after you’d been missing for a while. There were two raider attacks and then long story short, I met David.” I explained. His face dropped and his eyes darkened at the mention of the evil man. “He didn’t-” He began to ask, but I shook my head, “No, he’s taken care of now.” He nodded and his chest fell as he let out a breath, “You did that all by yourself, sis? Badass.” He said before coughing a little. He was still incredibly weak. “Not necessarily…” I said quietly, “There was a group of us too. I mean, yes, I killed David by myself because we all got separated for a bit. It’s just Joel and I now.” I saw his jaw clench ever so slightly. Despite our many conversations, I could still sense Matthew’s disapproval of Joel and I’s… situation. “The same thing happened to us.” He said quietly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” I breathed, changing the subject quickly. “I’m getting there.” He said before peeling off the blankets to reveal a blood-soaked bandage stretching across his chest. My stomach folded in half as I eyed it, and he quickly covered it again with the blankets. “I’ll be okay, sis. I promise.” He said as he cupped my now ghost white cheek into his cold hand. I nodded. “I’m glad you’re okay too.” He whispered. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

Taglist:

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[contentment-of-cats]

The Intimacy of Debility

Though Thrawn is nearing sixty Coruscant-standard years, he has never really thought about age. His body and mind are sound, both work without intervention, and he goes about his life much as he did in his twenties. Yes, he has taken wounds, been ill, but recovered. It's something of a grim joke that had he returned to Coruscant for that long, long talk that he would likely be the terminal opposite of alive.

Or worse.

As he lies in the medical bed, he catalogs his progress from 'let me die from this' to 'how do I get out of here?'

The answer is Pyrondi who has sliced her bed snitch and is removing her leads. He catches her eyes through the transparisteel partition.

Take me with you, Thrawn signs to her in the gestures used by stormtroopers.

Affirm, she signs back.

He doesn't know why the medics thought that leaving 'Pyro' naked aside from a blanket would forestall an escape attempt. Her culture does not have body taboos, and she has only observed them out of politeness to the dominant gender-segregated culture. She sits up, wraps the blanket around her hips, and comes to his bedside with a datapad. He no longer asks where it came from. Pyrondi seems to have a great many stashed in surprising locations. There are times when he considers the most unlikely probability that his WSO is pulling them out of another dimension altogether.

"How?" he asks.

"I divert my telemetry to another patient's readout that's a close match."

Once she's merged the telemetry, Thrawn takes off his leads and sits up, wrapping the blanket similarly around his hips. His culture doesn't have body taboos any more than Pyrondi's, so keeping him bare as birth isn't going to work with him, either. "Have you considered the escape route?"

"The ductwork. They have lifts, ladders, and stairs just like the main corridors." The ventilation systems for an ISD have to carry a lot of air mix and maintenance routinely drives a landspeeder down the wider ones. "We'll be exposed once we leave the system just before the scrubber complex at the foot of the tower, but can pick up the main airway to bridge officers country."

She's Human-warm as she sits next to him to show the plan. It's a good plan, and they might just make it. Anything is better than staying here. Pyrondi goes in first, she's not as tight a squeeze into the capillary as he is even if he has lost muscle mass in recovery. There are a few times that he has to shed the blanket, wiggle through, and then recover himself. It's not a question of being taboo so much as it is the impropriety of a Grand Admiral being naked with a similarly naked subordinate whether or not there are 'goings on' going on.

They discuss the possibility that they may have overestimated their ability and endurance as they park briefly on a ladder.

"Almost at the scrubber complex." Pyrondi checks her datapad. "It's night phase, we have some cover."

Thrawn looks over her shoulder at the screen, and is concerned to see a slight tremor. Blinking his third eyelid into place, he can see pain response in her infrared. "Can you make it?"

"I can, sir. I just..." She swallows and looks away.

"I understand." So many of her shipkin lost. "Is there a lift to get us to our deck?"

"Yes, sir. It's a prayer bead style. You have to step in while it's moving."

He's dealing with a head injury, healing bones, torn flesh, and torsion injuries. Pyrondi has spaceburn, shrapnel wounds, and pulmonary trauma. All wounded things seek a den. He can pick her up and carry her into the lift with him if he must. She is small for a Human, a match for Eli. Surely he can still do that?

The memory burns and Thrawn mentally flinches away from it.

Not now.

Pyrondi removes the vent cover, then both of them slip out, replace it and run barefoot around the scrubber complex, looking for the tower access. For this section of their escape, she wraps the towel over one shoulder and in doing so, gives her legs less encumbrance. Thrawn emulates and both run as quickly as their conditions will allow. There are more pauses than he would wish for himself before they reach the shaft that brings the cleaned air mix to the command tower. The cover pried off and replaced, both rest inside the duct before continuing to the strange lift.

It is aptly named, with lift compartments following one another like prayer beans in the hand of a religious. One must jump in, hold on, then jump out - or gather courage at the terminus and try again.

"The key is jumping in just before the rising floor of the lift becomes level with the deck. When we arrive at our deck, we jump out and down." They have many decks to refine their exit strategy on the slow, ancient fashioned lift.

They wobble on landing, but as Thrawn reminds Pyrondi any landing you can get up and walk away from is a good one. They are on the deck for bridge officers and instead of using the main corridor, Pyrondi shimmies down three smaller ducts leading to officer's quarters and stamps open the vent cover over her bed. It's a soft landing, and Thrawn lands in a nest of blankets, bolsters, and pillows. He closes his eyes, unable to move for long moments. The bedding shifts and he hears Pyrondi closing the cover, then she sinks down next to him. When Thrawn opens his eyes, she's crumpled, eyes closed but breathing steady. In infrared, he still sees indications of pain, but fading from the cool blue of shock. Without thinking, he reaches out and strokes a cheekbone with the back of his hand.

"Pyrondi, I am not going to ask how you know the vents and ductwork so well. You are my senior weapons officer, not my senior life support systems officer."

Pyrondi's lips curve in a slow smile. "Since you will not ask, I will not tell you."

Humans.

He helps her to sit up, and then she helps him to sit up. Thrawn is reluctant to give up her company.

"I'll get you some sleep pants. Agral didn't pack everything when he went on leave."

"It's appreciated, Lieutenant. May I use your 'fresher?"

"Of course, sir."

He does and comes out smelling like Pyrondi's hair and bath products. Right now the water system is working, but not the regular cleaning spray. The blow-dry is down, so manual towels have to do. The clothes cleaner works, so the blankets and towel go in there. Agral is close to Thrawn's height, but not his mass, nonetheless the loose sleep pants are soft and comfortable. Pyrondi comes out with her long hair damp and combed, but looking exhausted.

"They'll find us sooner or later, so lets catch up on sleep." Thrawn yearns for that soft nest of a bed. "You'll behave, sir. I know."

A little of that impish humor comes through. Thrawn, however is not too sure. Pyrondi is Interesting, and his attraction comes from that. He moves to Pyrondi can arrange the bed to her liking.

"They will find us, but I am concerned for you. Your reputation."

To his surprise, she pats his cheek. "Compared to what they usually have to say about me, it would likely be pretty mild. Come on, sir. Hop in."

He doesn't hop, but slides in and sinks into the bed. Humans want softness and dark for their eight hours of sleep, while Chiss brains sleep alternating hemispheres. When healthy, that is, and he is manifestly not. Pyrondi folds half of quilt over him. He can't say why he thinks of Rentor, just from being folded into a quilt and Pyrondi folding herself into one similarly. Bed sharing, but chaste in message. The bed has a warmer underneath, and is so soft that his wounds don't hurt from pressure. Pyrondi lies down, the quilt up to her chin. He's warm, and comfortable, and safe-

No other thoughts cross his mind for some time.

~

He has no idea how she does it. Only a crazy person or engineer (same difference) would crawl into the ductwork, but here he is. Commodore Marinith, standing in Pyrondi's sitting room, looking in the doorway at a sleeping, still badly injured weapons officer. And behind her, a blue arm looped over her waist, spooned around her is his next nightmare. Thrawn, who has been two breaths from death for weeks, spooned around Pyrondi and out like a light. Well, honestly, throwing Marinith into bed with a pretty lady would make him want to live, too.

He leaves them be, lets the medics know where they are and to keep them on the ding and dent list. It's going to be a long ride home. They'll need their rest.

[sparkplug02]

I remember a post where someone said that Batman isn’t adopting orphans to turn them from children into vigilantes so they’ll end up like him (a hero), but that he’s adopting orphans to turn them from vigilantes into children so they’ll end up like him (not a villain). I think the point was that most of the Batkids were already on a path that could potentially lead to crime and villainy by the time Bruce got to them, so taking them under his wing and mentoring them kept them from losing their way. Can’t find the post again, but I feel like reprocessing it by rephrasing it for myself.

You can’t make choices for people, but people have to have the choice in the first place. If you don’t have the resources and the support to harness your pain and suffering and channel it into something productive and honorable, it has the potential to become something much worse. If you don’t have the means to heal, then healing isn’t going to happen. In the case of Gotham, ‘something much worse’ appears to happen on a semi-regular basis and results in a new member joining Gotham’s Rogue gallery.

I’m a firm believer that once Bruce realized the best way to keep crime down was to intercept the would-be-Rogues before they arrived at the point of violence, Wayne Enterprises started pouring as much into Gotham’s welfare and societal infrastructure as waynely possible. The existing Rogue gallery is kept at bay through cooperation with Gotham PD, trying and failing to make Arkham Asylum effective, and being the Batman. They will die, not by Batman’s hand but one way or another, eventually. What if Bruce could starve out the violence and the crime? What if those who made their choice and refuse to change their ways bear the consequences of their actions, grow old, and no one picks up the slack behind them? What if people see that, BECAUSE Batman refuses to kill and forces the villains to face the music rather than escape through a quick death, villainy isn’t the answer and doesn’t fix anything? All villainy earns you is a punch in the face and a trip to jail or an understaffed asylum. If you want your life to get better, you have to find another way because crime clearly won’t work. Sure, this would never deter everyone, but it might bring the numbers down just enough to make a difference.

And then Bruce finds these kids. Kids who are alone or hurt or stubborn or scared and for one reason or another, Al even at their young age, they’re already at risk of choosing the route of villainy. They have the reasons, they have the motivation, they have the skill. Bruce looks around and sees that no one else is stepping up to intervene.

So he redirects them. He establishes himself as their primary authority figure (just as Alfred did for him, whether he had the same mentality as Bruce or not) and lays the no-killing rule on thick. He trains them and makes them better than the villains that already are and the villains that will be and the villains they might have become without him. He gives them a place to call home, if they so choose. He lets them be kids, he lets them be HIS kids, and slowly the family builds over time. He gives them a choice to reject villainy and he makes it enticing. He makes heroism look a little more fun, he makes it seem a little bit easier, and he makes them a little bit braver.

They make their own choices. Not all of them adhere to the no-killing rule the way Bruce does. Not all of them stay home and dwell in Wayne Manor full time. Not all of them even stay in Gotham.

But they don’t become villains. With very few exceptions, the Batman rarely stands against his kids. Whatever they are, it’s miles away from what they might have been without Bruce. It made a difference. The danger Bruce saw when he met each kid did not come to pass.

[animatorweirdo]

When the Dragons Fly (book 2)

After returning to your village, you tried to urge everyone to prepare and flee, but of course, desperation and false hope ended up fulfilling the worst scenario from your dream.

Chapter 17

Warnings: mentions of the war, dead people, mourning, desperation, reader trying hard to keep everyone safe, Aelon worried about Maedhros, comfort, arguing, snapping at people, orc attack, violence, houses getting burned, getting burned, trying to save Eweniel's parents, and burning everything.

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

The whole village was in mourning. 

After you returned with Mika, Helena was surprised yet glad to see him, and then everyone came around you as you shared how the battle had come to a devastating loss with Mika confirming everything you two had witnessed. The people reacted with sorrow and some even with denial, thinking you two had shared a cruel joke, unfortunately for them, it was no joke when the village men did not return the next day. 

Some of the people became more complicit when you urged them to prepare and flee toward the south since the orcs were sure to march and invade after such a victory, but some hoped to remain and wait for possible survivors. It was false hope because you saw how Hadar and the rest of the village men were swallowed in the battle. There was a low chance they were ever coming back. 

A day has passed since the battle that has now come to be known as the Niraneth Arnoediad, or the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. 

Only a few of the village men who left came back. Their return brought a little joy, but then they shared how legions of orcs were marching out of Angband, ready to conquer all of northern Belerian now that the Noldor were defeated. 

It only made you anxious and put more effort into making the people leave sooner, but unfortunately, some of the villagers still wanted to stay despite the news the surviving men had brought. 

Since some of the villagers needed time to pack their things and prepare for a long journey, you spent the time looking through the maps, searching for a suitable route that would lead you safely to the southern lands. Luckily, you found a route that led through the mountains and took you to Himlad, from there you could continue toward east Beleriand and find a new home. 

After most of the preparations were finished, you and Aelon went to the mountains to clean and pack up the things in the stable. You were filled with anxiety and felt frustrated by the people’s stubbornness to stay despite the dangers, so you silently complained about it. 

"They could be here any moment, yet those people still insist on waiting for possible survivors," you murmured while saddling Balearia. Aelon was packing most of the food in baskets. 

"I can understand the pain of losing people, but this is false hope. They should take this more seriously. It is a wonder the orcs haven't found us already. Our village might be hidden, but it's only a matter of time before we are found and pillaged from everything,” you said after tightening the straps on your saddle. 

Aelon watched as you picked up one of the baskets and dropped the food to the floor, allowing Aegar, Viserya, and Smoke to eat to their heart’s content since you did not have enough room to take everything in the stable. 

"(Name). Did Nelyo make it out of the battle?" Aelon asked, breaking the silence. 

"It was a bit difficult to see, but he escaped with the rest of his forces at the end of the battle,” you answered. 

"I hope he's okay," Aelon mumbled quietly. 

You looked at him as he quietly tightened the ropes around the baskets. The frustration you felt subsided when you saw silent worry in his eyes. 

"I'm sure he's okay. He is a capable warrior," you stated. 

“What will happen now that we have to run away?” Aelon questioned, looking at you. 

“We will most likely have to find a new home, for us and our dragons. It will be difficult as there are fewer mountains in the south and we will most likely be seen when we fly,” you explained. “But everything will be alright, as long as we get on the road in time,” you added, trying to sound assuring. 

“Will we ever see Nelyo again?” Aelon asked.

You thought about it for a moment before answering. 

“We have to focus on getting ourselves on the road first. But once we find a new home and survive through the winter, we can try to go looking for him,” you said.

“With such a defeat, I do not think he will try to remain in Himring, especially when Morgoth is sending all his forces to take over the north,” you explained.

“Help me pack up the food. The sooner we’re done, the faster we can leave,” you said as you two then spent the day cleaning up the table, getting everything ready for a long journey. 

When night fell, the village remained awake. Some people feared an orc attack and hurriedly continued packing their belongings. Most villagers were ready to depart, gathering on the outskirts of the village, prepared to follow the road leading to the nearest town. However, to your frustration, some still wished to stay, either to wait for survivors or under the delusion that the village was hidden enough to keep you all safe from the orcs. 

You were currently engaged in a heated argument with the village chief and the remaining villagers who insisted on staying another day.

“We have already wasted enough time waiting for survivors. We can’t waste another day, we need to leave for the town tonight. The dark lord’s orcs could be here any minute. It's only a miracle that they haven’t found us already,” you argued with the people. 

“But they haven’t found us yet. We could stay safe in the village,” someone said. 

“They’re most likely busy claiming the most important locations of the north, then they will wash over the rest of the land for its resources. This village will not remain hidden forever. If we do not go now, we will be trapped here,” you argued. 

“But my son or husband haven’t still returned. What if they are alive and can’t find us if we leave?” someone said. 

“They are most likely already dead. It will be suicide if we wait another day for people who might never return. We have to prioritize our safety first,” you said. 

Aelon watched with Eweniel as you kept arguing with the people. 

"It’s getting hectic,” Eweniel stated as the two sat on the steps of your porch. Helena, Mika, and their mother talked behind them, checking all the necessities for the journey. Dwenn was waiting by a carriage with his horses, helping Eda load the boxes and other items.

Aelon looked around and noticed Eweniel’s parents were not outside. 

“Where are your parents?” he questioned. 

“They’re inside our house. They wanted to discuss a few things and my mother wanted to rest her eyes. The fear and the stress are starting to take a toll on her,” Eweniel explained. 

Aelon then recalled the dream he had shared with you, where everything burned, and orcs ran rampant throughout the village, causing havoc and death.

“You know, I had a dream where our entire village was engulfed in flames,” Aelon revealed. “There were orcs everywhere, and even your house was on fire,” he explained.

“Now that’s grim. What could it mean?” Eweniel remarked.

“(Name) actually saw it too. Since the battle was lost, it might have been a premonition of what might come next, especially if we don’t leave soon,” Aelon answered. 

“Well, let’s hope it won’t come to pass. But your sister seems serious about having us leave as soon as possible. Look, even Figwitt has packed his things and come to the side of the village with Greeny in his hands,” Eweniel pointed at Figwitt, who was sitting on a rock with a bag next to him and Greeny on his lap. 

Aelon held his hand on his sword, thinking about the possible danger. His mind then returned to Nelyo, or Maedhros as his real name was after you told him. He could not help but feel worried for himself and the things to come. He hoped that this time the dream would not come true. 

With you, the arguing bore no fruit. 

“I'm telling you, we should leave now while we still have the chance. Staying here any longer will only bring death and suffering,” you insisted.

“It’s our families' lives we're talking about. We can't just abandon them and leave them to return to an empty village,” the woman countered.

“Even if someone did return, there wouldn't be a village left for them to come back to,” you argued.

“I think you're being too paranoid. We'd still be in danger if we left,” someone interjected, causing you to slowly lose patience.

“Enough! Enough!” the village chief declared before you could continue arguing.

“We are in possible danger, and we have already waited for a few days for people to return,” he explained, and you felt relieved.

“Chief, you can’t possibly consider abandoning our home and those who might still return,” the woman exclaimed.

“As much as it pains me to say it, we can’t stay here. We have no means to defend ourselves, so our best chance is to leave. But to give those who might still be alive time, I will wait until morning. After that, we will begin our journey to the south,” he explained, and you looked at him with a frown.

“Chief… we do not have time until morning. These creatures do not rest during the night. This is literally a perfect chance for them to attack,” you said.

“We have been blessed two days without an attack, and I hear your concern. That’s why we will leave at the crack of dawn. We might still be lucky to stay not attacked till morning,” he tried to assure you. 

“Luck will only get us so far. This is false hope. I saw how all the people were massacred in that battle. The chances for them to survive something like that are literally zero. Even if they are alive, they have most likely been turned into the dark lord’s thralls,” you explained.

The woman you argued with shook her head and glared at you. “Can you stop with your constant paranoia? The decision has been made,” she said.

“Now, listen here…” you started, but then all of you were disrupted by the sound of a woman’s scream.

Everyone in the village looked toward the way where the woman’s scream came from with confusion and fright, and then the roof of a house was set on fire. 

“They’re already here…” you uttered. 

A pack of warg-riding orcs emerged from the shadows. Their mocking laughter filled the air as they rained flaming arrows upon the houses, setting them ablaze.

The villagers began screaming and running away from the orcs, but some were swiftly killed by those who rode upon wargs and shot down by arrows. 

Aelon shot up when he saw the orcs, pulling out his sword in fear. 

The members of the Watchmen began shooting back at the orcs and the warriors Hadar left behind tried to fight back, but without proper preparation, they were swiftly outnumbered and killed one by one. 

You swiftly unsheathed your sword and killed two of the coming orcs. You then slashed down on a warg rider that lunged at you, killing the warg and causing the rider to fall. You then quickly plunged your sword into the rider’s chest, killing the orc on the spot. 

You glanced toward the village chief and the people who argued with you. “Go! Get everyone out of here!” you ordered and they began running toward the woods. 

You looked toward the Watchmen and whoever was defending the village. 

"Archers, fall back to the left and right flanks! Aim the wargs and their riders!" you bellowed, rallying the attention of those wielding bows. "Swordsmen, protect the fleeing villagers at all costs!" you directed toward those armed with swords.

"Spearmen with shields, assemble with me! Form a defensive line!" you commanded, swiftly organizing the defenders into position.

Aelon quickly blocked an attack from an incoming orc, and after deflecting the sword away, he plunged the sword into the orc’s chest, spilling blood on his blade and shaking as the orc fell dead on the ground. He stared at the corpse with shaking hands. It was the first time he had ever taken a creature’s life. 

“Come on!” Helena yelled as she helped her mother and brother on Dwenn’s wagon. Dwenn prepared to drive away as Eda and other villagers came on board. “Aelon! Ewe! Get on we need to go!” Helena hastened as they waited for them. 

“My mom and dad! They’re still inside!” Eweniel yelled as her house was set on fire. 

On the front of the attack, the archers began shooting all the wargs and warg riders, while those who held a shield and spear came to you. "Shields to the front, form a solid line!" you ordered, and the defenders with shields swiftly positioned themselves in front of you, ready to meet the oncoming orcs.

“Spears be ready!” you said as a pack of warg riders came charging at you. 

“Wait!” you said as you waited for them to get closer.

When the orcs were about to jump over the line, you gave the order. “Spears up!” you yelled and all the spear men then raised their weapons, making the wargs jump down on the sharp ends. The wargs yelped as they were pierced by the spears, bleeding and causing their riders to fall to the ground. You and a few swordsmen quickly killed the riders before they could get up. 

Orcs began charging against the line, pushing with ferocious force, but all the shieldsmen pushed back, holding the line. All the spearmen quickly poked their spears over the shields, trying to kill as many orcs as possible. 

“Keep the line, do not let them pass till everyone has escaped,” you yelled as you assessed the situation. 

More orcs were coming out of the woods, orcs, wargs, and even a few trolls. It seemed Morgoth was releasing all his creatures upon Beleriand after his victory. The line would hold them back for a while, but soon it would be crushed. It was no good. You needed to summon Baleria to burn them down so you had time to escape. 

“(Name)! ” Aelon called out to you. 

You looked toward your brother and saw him and Eweniel standing in front of her burning house. “Help! Eweniel’s parents are trapped inside!” he yelled. 

You turned toward the men. “Keep the line. Kill everything that tries to come through!” you yelled as you then ran toward your brother and Eweniel’s burning house. 

“Please do something! They’re still inside!” Eweniel cried as her house was slowly crumbling. You heard coughing coming from inside. 

“Stay here!” you said as you ran inside the house. 

You covered your mouth to prevent yourself from inhaling the smoke. You looked around the burning house, the heat flaring against your skin.

“Earil! Alen!” you called out to Eweniel’s parents. 

“(Name)... here…” you heard Eweniel’s mother call out to you. 

You walked through the smoke and came to a room, where you found both Eweniel’s parents crushed under a burning wooden beam. Eweniel’s father lay motionless beneath the burning wood. He was dead because he was burning, but Eweniel’s mother was still alive, coughing and having suffered several burns. 

“Don’t worry I help you out of here,” you said as you tried to pick the wooden beam off her. Unfortunately, it was heavier than you thought and you struggled to lift it enough to pull her out. 

“No! (Name)! Just go!” Eweniel’s mother coughed as you failed to pick the wooden beam off her. You tried again but then yelled when you felt searing pain through your hands. 

You looked down at your hands and saw the burning wooden beam had burned through your gloves, causing red spots to form on your skin. 

“There’s no time! (Name) just leave me! “ Eweniel’s mother pleaded. You backed away when the roof seemed it was about to collapse. 

“(Name)! Take care of Eweniel! Take care of our daughter!” Eweniel’s mother said as the roof began to fall above you. 

“Now go!” she said and then you ran out of the house. 

You managed to leave just in time before the whole house collapsed, crushing everything beneath them. 

“Mom! Dad!” Eweniel cried when she saw you didn’t come back with them. 

You looked toward the line and saw the men being slowly overwhelmed. 

“Aelon! Take Eweniel and go!” you ordered. 

Aelon dragged the crying Eweniel. She struggled little and the two ran to Dwenn’s wagon who still waited for them. When they got on, Dwenn quickly snapped the reins, forcing the horses to pull the wagon into the woods along with the other escaping villagers. 

After making sure they were out of sight, you looked toward the mountains and reached out to Baleria through your bond, telling her to fly down and burn the orcs. 

Baleria stomped as she came to the edge of the cliff. She raised her wings and plunged down from the cliff, gliding toward you and the burning village. 

When you saw her incoming shadow in the distance and saw no more escaping villagers, you looked toward the remaining defenders. 

“Retreat! Run for the woods!” you yelled. 

The archers, swordsmen, and everyone began retreating, running as fast as they could away from the orcs and the wargs. You waited for each of them to run into the forest and when the orcs began coming after you. Baleria flew down and released a torrent of fire upon them and all that was still in the village. 

The orcs screamed and the wargs howled in pain as they burned alive. Baleria flew around the village and released her breath upon the next wave of enemies that came out of the forest.

You watched as the village burned in a sea of flames. The tree Aelon and his friends usually met under to play games fell to the ground as it burned, Helena’s and the rest of your neighbor's houses collapsed in flames, and now you saw how even your house for the past years burned and collapsed.  

Your heart ached painfully by the sight, but the attack had now come to a halt and the orcs didn’t try chasing after you. 

You reached through your bond to tell Baleria to return to the mountain after she is done, to wait for your further orders before disappearing into the forest to reunite with the rest of the survivors.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn​ @kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain

[ckret2]

One thing I've been wondering. Is Bill's psychic vision like Garnets future vision from Steven Universe where he can see possible futures or can he just predict the future 100% accurately?

You've already learned he can see possible futures. Chapter 34:

"Got it," Bill squeaked. He pointed toward Mabel's bed. "But I can see a dozen futures that end with our brains splattered across Mabel's dolls. I do not want to fight power tools."

And Chapter 42, the most recent chapter:

He often got to the stairs and saw his body crumpled on the landing fifteen seconds in the future. If the damage wasn't too severe, sometimes he just resigned himself to the bruises and stepped off the ledge. Had to get downstairs somehow, after all.

But sometimes the future held a broken leg, or an unconscious heap, or a lot of blood. When that happened, sometimes he'd shuffle his footing a bit until the future looked less painful and then try descending. Sometimes he'd creep down to the last safe step and then look for a less fatal route the rest of the way down.

These are two cases of him seeing possible futures, and avoiding them when he doesn't like them.

But he doesn't see futures the way Garnet does.

I've said this every single time his future sight comes up, but: he literally sees what's happening in the future, in the place it's going to happen, physically, with his eyeballs. He isn't receiving visions or premonitions. If a dog's walking across the street in five minutes, if Bill looks at the street he'll see the dog walking across it.

But he's always only seeing the array of possible futures, with the most likely futures being easiest to see. If he's playing rock-paper-scissors with someone, and there's an 80% chance they'll pick scissors, a 10% chance they'll pick rock, and a 10% chance they'll pick paper, then when he looks at their hand he'll very clearly be able to see it forming scissors and sorta blurrily see a faint rock and faint paper. Based on that, he'll know about the other possible futures but it's obvious they're probably picking scissors, and he'll choose rock.

So there's still 1-in-10 odds he'll actually end up in the universe where his opponent chose paper and he loses; but 80% of the time, he's cheated his way to victory.

[hello-nichya-here]

Is cannibalism morally wrong?

Before anything, let me just say: Please don't eat people.

Now, the answer to that question is "Usually, yes - according to MOST people's ideal of what morality even is today."

Obviously any sane person today will tell you that eating human flesh after killing or mutilating someone is bad, but while the cannibalism would be a form of/motivation for the violence and definitely be used as proof of "This person needs to be locked up forever or sentenced to death" in any trial, you'd be surprised to hear that not every country would consider it, by itself, a crime.

In my country, Brazil, cannibalism is not illegal, though there are laws about what one can or cannot do with a corpse that very much do not include "use it for a snack." But there is one obvious loophole: there are indigenous tribes in the amazon that no one is allowed to contact, and some of them practice cannibalism in one way or another.

Even countries in which cannibalism is a crime often give the "criminals" a pass if it was a case of "We were desperated and stranded with no food and there were dead bodies around." And once again, if instead of just eating the flesh of people that died naturally, they had KILLED these people to then eat them, no mercy would be granted. "Desperate times, desperate measures" only goes so far.

Most human beings fully see "human" as a separate category from anything else in nature. That's why experiments on animals are commonplace, but the very words "experiments on humans" have a really fucked up connotation. Why NO ONE has a problem with plants being eaten and most people are okay with eating animals.

And even then, it's no coincidence that animals are still seen more as "living things" than plants, even if we know both are alive. Animals move around, have what we can easily tell are body parts (head, limbs, eyes, mouth, etc) and clearly experience not only pain but fear, sadness, joy, and emotional attachment to other animals, to humans, to objects, etc. They are more simmilar to us, and can interact with us, so we still see killing them as taking a life, which we don't really think of when we do something like picking a flower, even if the result is the same.

Even for someone who eats meat without any guilt, the rule is still clear: if it's human (or "human enough") then it isn't food, and to break that rule means that something is VERY wrong with you. That's why we have mythical creatures like vampires - they look human, but they're secretly some strange kind of Other, a monster, a threat, and the proof of it is that their survival depends on drinking human blood.

And back to laws about how to handle dead bodies for a second, because there's a noticeable pattern in most societies: they either preserve the bodies or get rid of them in a ceremonial way. Mumification, funeral pyre, burial - anything to reinforce "That's a person." That's why people do things like dive after someone dies at sea to bring the body to the family, or why even atheists who believe there's no such thing as souls and that when people die they truly are gone will still visit the graves of their loved ones, or keep their ashes.

We see dead bodies as what's left of an individual, not something that needs to be disposed of before it rots, so most people are disturbed by things like mass graves or cannibalism because we see it as disrespect or straight up violence - which is why in those cases of "forced to eat dead bodies" the people in these situations tend to struggle to accept taking that route, often feel a ton of guilt, and avoid eating their own relatives and friends if possible.

But notice I said MOST people are disturbed by cannibalism? Well, time for to use my own country as exemple again because for many indigenous tribes here, cannibalism WAS the ceremonial way to handle the body. They weren't just "meat", they were a shell where the soul of that person was trapped in, so to eat them would not only free their spirit, but also make it "live on" with the tribe. That's why they were HORRIFIED by things like christian funerals - they saw it as cursing someone to be buried "alive", trapped in a rotting body.

And even in the tribes that did things like eat their enemies, it wasn't out of sadism or disrespect - quite the contrary. They believed that by eating them, they were gaining their strength and becoming part of their tribe. They even had their own form of "cannibalism taboo" because of it, since they saw eating a member of their own tribe(s) as an abomination because they'd be "stealing the strength" of one of their own.

These tribes only ever stopped these rites both because they were forced and, for the obvious "cannibalism can literally kill you depending on the state the body you ate was in."

Even christianity is not completely aversed to the idea that, by eating human flesh, a part of that human lives on in whoever ate them. The same church that had missionaries trying to make the natives stop eating their dead has a whole ritual of metaphorical cannibalism, with the followers of Christ eating his "body" (bread) and drinking his "blood" (wine).

The myths, and especially the fictional stories, about vampires have also toyed with that idea, mainly with regards to the connection between sex and the violence commited by the monster. Hence vampires luring their prey, their bites sometimes being referred as a "kiss", and them turning their victims (usually by making the human drink vampire blood before being killed).

Most people today by be completely aversed to cannibalism actually happening, but it's not hard at all to find romanticized versions of it that basically cannibalism in all but name.

And, believe it or not, there are cases in which people do defend real cannibals. The infamous german case of Armin Meiwess killing and eating a man, with the victims consent (and "sharing the meal" with them before the actua death) was so completely outside any kind of normal circumstance that people still debate whether or not he should have gone to prison at all - especially because he allowed the victim to go back home when he regreted agreeing to it, but the man came back of his own free will, and there's video evidence of it all.

(Before anybody asks, yes, I still say Armin Meiwess being arrested was the right call, but I can understand the legal nightmare and the sheer "what in the hell?" factor of it all. Again, please don't eat people)

There's also a more "ethical" (if it was indeed real) case of a dutch TV show in the two hosts had small pieces of their flesh surgically removed, had them fried and ate "each other". Even if it wasn't fake, they haven't commited a crime or harmed anybody in any way since they were willing participants AND not mutilated or killed - yet there was still outrage, once again, purely on the sense of "Humans don't eat humans" being a societal rule that doesn't get to be broken that easily without push-back.

So there you have it. Cannibalism is morally wrong both for logical, ethical reasons (aka the human suffering in most of the cases) AND purely emotional ones (aka humans prefer the species to be seen as more than just walking meat that hasn't gotten to the butcher's shop yet). For the third time: please don't eat people.