#i hope the remaining questions are give us more cause so far its all just stuff at least i already knew or expected

[genderqueer-miharu]

[Image description: A meme depicting a humanoid figure tapping something with a stick. They say: "C'mon, tell me something i didn't know already" and what they tap with the stick is labeled "Mikoto and Kotoko's interrogations". /End description]

How i've been feeling about the recent questions

[ickie]

♡ … TIO \ MV1 & CL16  …

pairing … max verstappen x reader x charles leclerc summary … you, max, n charles all get freaky... it really is just porn w no plot i cannot lie ... 1500+ words warnings … nsfw !!!!! pls only read if you're 18+. oral (m recieving), light spanking, dom/sub undertones, max gets off on others people pleasure hehe notes … this shit is so far from being proofread i am so sorry y'all... i feel like this is some of the worst smut i've ever written lowkey but it's okay, i just wanted to put out something that wasn't the story of us related ! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated & fill out this form to be added to my taglist ! much love <3

your hips swayed against the body behind you, sweat beading along your hairline as you moved to the beat of the song. head tilting onto the shoulder behind you, you placed a chaste kiss to charles’ jawline, grinning as his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you more firmly against him. your eyes shut as you let him move your body, a wide smile taking over your features as you got lost in the pull that charles seemed to have on you.

as your eyes opened, they met ones with a piercing shade of blue holding something in them that you couldn’t quite read. “he’s looking, charlie.” you giggled, hoping the brunette was able to hear you over the sound of the music.

charles’ head tilted up, making eye contact with his rival turned friend, one of his eyebrows quirking up as they stared each other down. you watched the exchange, feeling the adrenaline begin to pool in the pit of your stomach. max stood up at the bar, swiftly moving himself between the sea of bodies that separated him from you and charles.

“hi, maxie…” you grinned as he finally made his way to the two of you, his expression remaining unreadable. “i missed you.” you hummed, your arms making their way over his shoulders as you pulled him closer, sandwiching yourself between the two males.

“is that so?” he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes locked on charles as they seemed to communicate without even speaking.

you hummed, pushing up on your tiptoes so you could place a kiss to the corner of his mouth, giggling as you finally got his attention on you. max moved out of your grasp while charles pulled away from you, causing a pout to take over your glossed lips. “i think it’s time to leave,” the monegasque said, one of his hands finding its way to the small of your back to push you along.

“i don’t want to-” you started, eyebrows furrowing before you saw the look the two were giving you, knowing that the three of you leaving wasn’t up for debate. you huffed before crossing your arms over your chest, eyes rolling as you moved with the two of them.

the car ride to charles’s apartment was tense, you have been delegated to the back seat as the two men sat in the front, barely acting like they knew you were there. but the moment the three of you were alone, it was a completely different scene.

before charles had even been able to shut the door, max pushed you up against the wall in the foyer, plush lips finding their home in your mouth. kissing max was addicting, the way he took the lead with one of his hands threaded in your hair to keep you where he wanted you – he kissed like it was the last thing he was going to do, and it kept you craving more. his free hand trailed to your ass, kneading the flesh in his hand as you gasped into the kiss. max pulled away, nipping at your bottom lip as he did.

your eyes met the dark green of charles’, clearly not having any complaints about watching the show that you and max had just happily put on for him. “bedroom?” it was a simple question, but you quickly obliged. you didn’t miss the way charles pulled max in for a quick kiss, causing you cheeks to heat up even more than they already were.

inside the bedroom, charles couldn’t keep his hands off of you. “let’s get this dress of, mon ange.” he hummed as he kissed down your neck, deft fingers pulling at the zipper of your dress. max helped push it down your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet.

you grinned as the two men looked at your naked body, trying to suppress a giggle at the fact that you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments at all. “mon ange…” charles groaned, his head tilting back.

“dirty, dirty girl.” max shook his head, pushing you towards the bed while your cheeks flamed with heat.

with where you were on the bed, you got a prime seat watching the way charles and max worked together. their lips were entangled in a deep kiss, max’s hands working the buttons of charles’ shirt while charles palmed max through his jeans. you bit at your bottom lip, not wanting to interrupt what the two of them had going on.

the two parted so they could rid themselves of the rest of their clothes before beginning their descent on you. max pulled you towards the end of the bed, causing you to let out a little squeal. “on your hands and knees, schatz.” you followed the command with no pushback, your head towards to foot of the bed.

charles stepped in front of you, his hand working slowly over his dick before he tapped the tip against your lips. your lip parted, your eyes on his as he pushed his way into your mouth. at the same time, max moved onto the bed behind you before he landed a hard smack against one of your ass cheeks, causing you to jerk into charles’ dick.

a groan came from charles, his hand threading into your hair. he wasn’t pushing you, but the pressure of his hand was a nice presence to have. one of max’s fingers trailed down from the curve of your ass to your pussy, barely letting his finger ghost over your entrance before he came down on your clit, rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves.

you moaned onto charles causing him to buck forward, you pulled away with a gasp, tears pooling in your eyes as you looked up at him. “you’re doing so well for us, mon ange… always such a good girl, aren’t you?” one of his hands caressed your jaw before he stepped away, causing you to whine at the loss of contact.

you felt the bed dip, your head turning behind you to look. charles was slotting himself behind you, two of his fingers spreading along your pussy. he groaned at the wetness that was gathered there, lifting his fingers up towards max who willingly took them in his mouth, sucking all of your wetness off of charles’ fingers. “always taste so good…” the dutchman groaned, one of his hands resting against the curve of your ass.

charles grabbed at your hips, pulling you towards the head of the bed so there was room for max to sit in front of you. “please, charlie… need you so bad,” you whined as he ran the tip of his dick along your folds, before he slowly pushed in.

your head hung between your shoulders, moaning at the stretch of him finally entering you. he moved slowly, letting you adjust the size of him before he fully bottomed out. a gasp passed your lips as you felt his hands grab at your stomach, pushing your body up so your back was to his chest – baring your front for max. the blonde’s lips were on yours almost instantly, charles’ fingers tweaking at your nipples while you and max continued to make out. he was breathing in all the moans and gasps you were letting out before he trailed the kisses down to your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh. you were almost positive you were going to have marks by the morning.

you took one of your shaking hands, spitting into your palm before you took max in your hand working your palm over the tip of his dick and then beginning to move your hand with the speed of charles’ thrusts. “i want you to feel good, too…” you gasped; your head knocking back against charles’ shoulder.

max groaned into the curve where your shoulder and neck met, his hips meeting your hand as your eyes screwed shut. “’m close, i’m going to-” your words were cut short by the feeling of fingers pressing circles over your clit, the feeling of tightness erupting in your belly as you let out a gasp, body trembling with the force of your orgasm.

charles quickly pulled out, as you felt the warmth of his cum spread across your lower back and ass while max came across your chest. since charles was no longer holding you up, you slumped forward against max, your head resting against his shoulder as you took in a couple of deep breaths, body still shaking with the aftereffects of your orgasm.

you could faintly feel charles move, hearing the ensuite light turning on and the sound of a sink running. he came back with a wet rag, wiping it along your back before him and max moved you to lay on your back. max wiped at your chest, pressing a light kiss to your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

“you did so good for us, liefje.” max murmured, moving your body so your head was resting against a pillow.

“max… if you don’t come and cuddle me right now,” you grumbled, smiling as you felt his body slot itself behind you.

charles came back into the room – when he left, you weren’t quite too sure – with a couple glasses of water before mumbling something about hating being the little spoon. a quiet giggle came from you before he entered the bed, your arm wrapping itself around his middle and pulling him closer. as you pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, you mumbled a quiet i love you, before doing the same with max – his kiss being put to his knuckles.

[freyito]

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x ftm reader

★ summary: Gallagher has been the only one in your life to make you feel like a man. Even if you can mold and shape yourself in the Dreamscape, make yourself look and feel as Cis as you want, and yet, nothing has been able to fill the hole you feel within your very existence... aside from Gallagher. And now you can't find him. You can't find Gallagher. You can't find him.

✧ a/n: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!!! im gonna be writing a lot more x male readers and especially a lot more x ftm readers... i started this blog cause wherever i looked in whatever fandom i was in i never found many male readers... and especially barely any ftm ones... and it feels like i havent written any proper x m! reader fics in a while, soooo... we'll start here. i'll still write gn reader of course!!!! but i like lowkey haven't written much that matches my identity in a bit.

🗒 cw: ftm reader, 2.2 story spoilers, dysphoria like mad dysphoria, anxiety, depression, sensory overloard, grief (?), hurt/no comfort, proofread

✎ wc: 2.2k

The Dreamscape has been quiet lately. Even Golden Hour was quiet, silent, and whenever you looked to the sky, its brilliance had begun to dim. The Dreamflux Reef had always been quiet, too, and yet now, it was uncanny. Micah had been so aloof, answering your questions curtly, and Gallagher hadn’t even sent you a text. Every time you texted him, it never went through, as if he wasn’t in an area with service. Which was normally okay, you knew he had to be out on a job or something, but it had been a whole week and he hadn’t even come back to his bar. When you had asked anyone about Gallagher, they had given you this look like they didn’t know where your lost dog was… which isn’t exactly far from the truth, you suppose. But you could see some sort of guilt behind their eyes. And that made you uneasy.

Sure, he had gone weeks at a time without being with you, but he always sent texts, and most people knew where he was, especially the locals. His last text to you was an ‘I love you babyboy.’, which isn’t abnormal, he had a habit of texting you that specifically around five times a day. He had to drill it into your head. He always made sure you knew you were loved, especially by him. You were ‘something special’, as he said, ‘the best thing that ever happened to him’, ‘his pretty boy’, and the list goes on. But your phone remains eerily silent.

You can’t help but check it every other minute, wading through the crowds of Golden Hour, the last place you wanted to be right now. No one in Dreamflux Reef would give you a definitive answer, no one had seen him, or if they had, they gave you indecisive answers. He was out on a case, he was at the lounge, anything to get you off their backs. You had to admit, you were becoming increasingly nagging, annoying, even. But who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend had been gone a whole week with no trace of him, no communication, and you were starting to think the worst.

Golden Hour makes your head spin, looking under every literal rock you can find, getting any info you can from the most lucid strangers and even mumbling drunkards. You are desperate, any little bit of information you use. Even if they had just seen a man with brown hair or a man with hazel eyes. Of course, none lead you to Gallagher. And the Bloodhounds aren’t of any help either, they all stare at you with confused looks and some even tell you to stop playing around.

You’ve already given up, the hustle and bustle of Golden Hour making you feel even more hopeless, the feel of everyone's eyes on you, not fitting in, it all sinks in once more. You were better off putting up lost dog posters at that point. Was it possible for people to go missing in the dreamscape? You had no idea, but you were holding onto the hope that perhaps this was all some twisted nightmare that had crept into your head, but each step you took disproved that thought.

Perhaps reality will have answers, and while you feel so reluctant to wake up, to be seen once more. You had never met Gallagher out of the dreamscape, and only now did you realize what you could be getting yourself into. Perhaps he had just… left? After so many years? Surely not, right?

You return to reality, unsteady. Your body feels frail, even if you had been maintaining it properly. It feels odd to be back in reality, where suddenly how you look, how you talk, and your mannerisms all mattered. You had to act masculine, you had to shut up and walk tall, hyper aware of the eyes on you. Even if it only takes only a minute to get to the front desk, even if you know the guests will never recognize you in the dreamscape. You still can’t help but feel self-conscious, being able to hide behind the veil of the dreamscape for so long, now out in reality, feeling as if you were stripped bare for all to see. Which you weren’t, but perhaps your nerves were getting to you.

When you reach the front counter, your nerves don't abate. They only grow in size, the fear quickly creeping through your system. There was no guest named Gallagher, and you didn’t even know what room he had been staying in. They can’t tell you anything considering that you yourself aren’t the customer they are looking for. But the way they look at you just as the people in Golden Hour and Dreamflux Reef do tells you all.

Reluctantly, you make it back to your room. You don’t know if you want to go back to the Dreamscape, you’re already shook up as is. If something so dire could make you resurface from the vast, blissful ocean that was the Dreamscape, why would you go back? No sign of him for a week, reality or otherwise, and not a word from those closest to him. Do you really wish to go back? Where you know your current efforts have failed. Where that sinking feeling that you know he’s gone takes hold of you?

You stare at the dreampool for a second longer, trying your best to shove down your doubts and your fears, and sink back into the sweet allure of dreams, waking up once more in the Dreamflux Reef. You stay where you are for another minute, a place you’ve called home for several years, a place that would be filled with hearty laughter, maybe even the clinking of glasses, and smell like Gallagher’s mild cologne. That scent has dimmed recently, either because he hadn’t come home, or perhaps you were… used to it. His clothes were still strewn about on the bed, what he was going to wear the day after he had disappeared. You didn’t dare move them, not once, afraid of losing all the little things about him.

When you finally exit the house, the streets feel colder. It’s even quieter than before, and most residents look… somber. Perhaps they always looked that way, and you just didn’t know. You figure you’d try your luck with Micah again, either to get closure or just wallow with someone who was close to Gallagher, you are unsure.

You had done your best to ignore the… tower that seemed to breach out of nowhere in the Reef, despite how tall it had been and just how oddly enchanting it was. You, like many of the Penacony locals, didn’t enjoy change. To have something like that just simply grow out of the ground you knew when those Trailblazers came around was jarring. That had also been the day that Gallagher had stopped coming home, and the events that followed had made you so desperate to find him once more. This beautiful dream, torn asunder by some madman’s delusion of a grander, peaceful life. You never did like the family, you never liked Sunday.

On that note, Micah was nowhere to be seen, at least where you looked. Not all the way down in the alleys or by the train station, not in the dive bar playing pool, nowhere. You had no where but to ascend those damned stairs that faced towards a false moon. You didn’t want to, not at all. It wasn’t intimidating, but every time you lingered near it for too long, you felt uneasy. It had an air to it that spoke of danger, something that told you it ‘was not for you’. And here you were, stood in front of it and the three graves that paid homage to it.

The first step you take bathes you in a stillness unlike one you’ve ever felt. Tranquility follows as you continue to walk, the world is suddenly so quiet, the hustle and bustle of the Reef fades out, and you are left with blissful nothingness. The only sound that follows you is your steps. It isn’t so bad when you think about it, it’s comforting, in a way.

Micah is tending to the plants that surround a small little courtyard. He’s relaxed, untensed, and seems genuinely at peace. It’s been rare to see someone like that in recent days. When he hears you, he lifts his head and gives you a soft smile, one that reeks of pity, as if he knows what you are going to ask him.

“Micah–”

“I have no idea where Gallagher is,” Micah sighed, his smile faltering slightly. “Not a text, not a word.”

At this point, you knew people were lying to you. Micah’s reminder only makes you realize just how much people were. “I know that. Tell me what happened to him.”

Micah is taken aback by your blunt reaction, but easily gives in. The jig is up it seems, and he doesn’t fight back any longer. With a soft huff and slump of his shoulders, he sets aside his current task, turning his full attention towards you.

“Then we’re gonna have to sit down and talk. It’s a bit of a doozy.”

.  * 　　　 ✦     .     　⁺ 　 .

Your head spins with all the details. It’s all so confusing, Gallagher, being… fictional? The man you had fallen in love with was simply just a creation, not tangible, not real. What were you supposed to do with that information? All you had been doing for the past hour or so is staring at the wall. Your room is silent, as is all things now, dark and lonely. It’s suffocating. You feel empty, devoid of whatever was there, whatever had filled the hole in your heart, as cliche as it was.

A hollow home, a hollow heart, and not a soul to mend it. Those welcoming arms are no more, or perhaps, never were. And yet, his clothes still remain, his toothbrush and cologne and shampoo and everything else stay in the bathroom as if he were. If you spaced out long enough, you could still hear his hearty laughter, if you sink a little deeper into the pillows you can smell faint traces of his shampoo. Anything to hold onto what you love. Who you love.

You need to drown yourself in something before you lose your mind. You want to cry, and yet… you can’t. It is still all catching up to you. You wander around the house mindlessly, desperate for something to happen. Anything. But there is nothing. When you stop, there is null, a terrifying distance between you and the empty kitchen. You have to get out of here, you have to leave, this home is not yours anymore. It is simply a house.

Your feet bring you away from the Reef, finally, settling you in the Reverie. You follow a familiar path, one that you had walked on a particularly bad night, that had led you to the Dreamjolt Holstery. It was unwise of you to fall in love with the mixologist, but here you were, several years in, finding out he was quite literally made up.

Slowly, you take a seat at the bar, the lounge around you empty, dead. You have no idea where the bartender is, but you don’t care. This is the same seat you had taken that night. It was something you should’ve forgotten, really, such a minor detail that now felt all too big and meaningful to your heart. You can still remember what had torn you up, it was a particularly bad day, feeling too dysphoric, and no matter what you did, even in the Dreamscape, it had done nothing to affirm your identity more. So you sought out a drink, or a few, to wash down that bitter taste that plagued your taste buds all day. And there he was, a little disheveled as always, eyebags, gravelly voice, something about him just… washed over you as if he were a dream. Which, looking back, apparently he was. You remember fighting between two thoughts; wanting to be him, or wanting him. To be a man so… masculine, gruff, big and intimidating, something like that…

Your nostalgic daydream is broken by steps, and a figure above you. You look up, hoping that you’ll see the same scene once more, that Gallagher will shoot you a smile and a chuckle, ask you what’s got you down, but instead, it’s Siobhan. She looks down at you with a sympathetic smile, as if she knows exactly what you were thinking about. You can’t tell if you feel angry or sad, or neither. You simply push those feelings down.

“What can I get you tonight?” She asks, her voice even and calm as always.

You take a minute to think, unsure if you want something strong to keep you occupied or something that could serve as a tribute. Ultimately, you settle with…

“A glass of uh… The Big Sleep,” You can’t help but chuckle lightly at the name, even if the chuckle was devoid of joy. Siobhan doesn’t mention it, simply smiles and nods.

“... To the ghosts of the past?”

“Yeah… to the ghosts of the past.”

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[claymoresword]

I Choose Her | Chp: 20

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: y/n & draco, character death, violence, general heavy themes, fluff, y/n & hermione are endgame , events follow canon (in theory)

Note: here it is.. the final chapter ! (technically it's not over yet since we still have the epilogue, which i will try my best to get out within the next week, fingers crossed)

i also want to thank you guys so much for being here. whether you just found this fic recently or you've been here since the beginning, i hope you know i appreciate your support so much. it's the reason we even got to this point! i'm truly going to miss writing this story, more than you know. especially considering it has been apart of my life for over a year now, which is crazy! but anyway, love you guys, i hope you enjoy this one :)

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character @brocoliisscared @aki-ham @theheartwants-what-itwants

Hours since the Dark Lord and his followers had officially retreated. 

The sun was now steadily taking its position in the sky, illuminating the mortal world. Heedlessly enforcing the illusion that tragedy no longer looms over Hogwarts and all wizard-kind. 

That is, of course, as further as one could possibly get from the truth.

The atmosphere amidst the Great Hall unfailingly reminds everyone of a suffocating reality. It is thick with grief. Cold, dark and devoid of life– much like the dead that lay within it.

Hermione has yet to leave your side since you found a space to sit amongst the rubble. She continues to cling to you like a lifeline. Harry has been gone for hours, and Hermione, with a bit of coaxing, has finally stopped crying.

Ginny however remained hysterical– till her father was forced to subdue her with a Laxo charm. Still its effects wear off too quickly, and Ginny is far too vulnerable to justify repeated use. So her parents have settled with putting her to sleep instead.

She rests her head on Ron’s shoulder, blind and deaf to the destruction around her, even if only for a short while.

“Are you alright?” A foolish question, but Hermione, ever sweet and gentle, doesn't berate you for it. She nods, wordlessly slipping her arm around you before nestling her face into the crook of your neck. 

Hermione desperately seeks an escape through you and there is nothing more you wish to do than to give her just that. You want to be her helm in a sea of catastrophe, as much as she is yours.

Nothing matters anymore, only her. 

As you slip a comforting arm around your girlfriend, you take a scan of the hall, quickly regretting your decision to do so as you divert your eyes away from the row of corpses laid across the floor. 

It is then you spot a familiar face that causes your stomach twists even more, you are overcome with the sudden urge to wretch.

Draco appears just as pale and miserable as he approaches you. Gingerly taking a seat, cautious not to interrupt your embrace with Hermione. For what feels like an eternity, neither of you speak.

“I thought you left the castle with the rest of them.” You find yourself muttering, surprising Draco and especially yourself.

Hermione lifts her head, once she realizes you were not speaking to her. 

She takes notice of the platinum haired man next to you, and you feel her tense within your hold. Hermione’s expression visibly hardens, and you recognize that it would be smart to continue putting yourself in between her and Draco for the time being. 

“No, I– I couldn’t. My parents.. they were looking for me, but I– I hid.” Your best friend remarks, he is unable to keep eye contact with you. 

Guilt is ever corrosive, and it was consuming him alive. You see it in the very way Draco carries himself– so far removed from the person he once was.

Much like yourself.

It seems as though Draco is entirely expecting you to push some blame onto him. As if the destruction here today was caused solely by him. Though things are hardly as simple as that– besides, there is little reward in kicking a man when he is already down.

“At least you refused them. I know it isn’t easy.” You state. A feeble attempt to uplift him.

“Doing the right thing rarely ever is.” Hermione chimes in, as she puts her head on your shoulder once more. Her demeanor has softened, and in any regular instance, this might even fill you with joy.

“Does it even matter now? It’s too late.” Draco wallows, and a part of you wants to contend his statement, but that would also mean lying to him.

“And my mother and father– I’ve disappointed them.” He adds and now you let out a humorless chuckle. 

“We have that in common. Mine certainly aren’t going to acknowledge me as their daughter now.” You say, and your best friend almost seems comforted by the notion.

“Mine either.” Hermione quips plainly, her attempt at lighthearted banter only shatters you. 

You turn to place a lingering kiss against her forehead. Hermione accepts it as a faint smile plays on her lips, one reserved only for you.

‘As long as we stay together it'll be fine.’ You remind yourself for the dozenth time.

Draco sighs.

“There was no point to any of this.. it's all gone to shit.” He utters, exasperated, and Hermione nods in agreement.

Another chuckle slips out of you, this time from true amusement. Possibly from exhaustion or simply just a reaction to the ludicrous position you have all found yourselves in. You are sitting in what was once the Great Hall; the safest and warmest place in all of Hogwarts is now reduced to nothing but dust, piles of stone and death. 

You ought to be studying for your end of year exams, yet instead, you have been battling Death Eaters. 

People you considered friends have attempted to harm you more than once, and now it is not even certain if you would survive long enough to see nightfall.

Despite herself, Hermione begins to laugh with you. Draco only scoffs at this, he averts his gaze but you manage to catch the smile threatening to form on his face.

The moment does not last much longer as a noise in the distance abruptly steals your attention. The air in Hogwarts is no longer desolate, it has been awoken once more, and you quickly find out why.

Neville is first to rise off the floor, swiftly walking out into the courtyard. Students and teachers, reluctant but curious, follow suit. 

You leave Draco behind as you move through the crowd, Hermione quickly falls in next to you and Ron settles a few paces behind. 

Your worst fear is realized. 

They have returned, to finish what they started. 

A large army of Death Eaters approaches Hogwarts, the Dark Lord leads them at the front of the brigade. As they get closer, you notice Hagrid towering over the rest, he walks with something large in his arms.

Your face falls in horror once you make out exactly what it was he was carrying. Harry Potter, limp and lifeless. 

Hagrid held him as though he weighed no more than a feather. It is a devastating sight, but you can’t seem to look away. 

You feel the sudden urge to pinch yourself, to force yourself awake.

You are trapped in a grim nightmare, Harry cannot be dead. 

“No.” Ron utters your thoughts out loud.

Hermione is reduced to soft sobs as she turns away in distress, you feel compelled to pull her in for an embrace once more.

“Who is that, Hagrid’s carrying?” Ginny’s voice echoes through the courtyard. She is awake, only to be struck in the face with atrocity.

“Neville, who is that?” She calls, much louder and desperate.

“Harry Potter is dead!” The Dark Lord responds to her question with glee.

“No– no!” Ginny cries, but she is quickly silenced with a wave of Voldermort’s hand, he forces her to the ground.

“Silence! You stupid girl.” He bellows as Arthur frantically helps his daughter back on her feet, dragging her as far from the enemy as possible.

“Harry Potter is dead, from this day forth, you put your faith in me.” Voldermort claims and he is only met with a stunned silence.

"Harry Potter is dead!” The Dark Lord declares again in celebration turning to his followers. He laughs, maniacal and bone chilling. Death eaters soon join in, a roar of erroneous joy.

Blind rage gives Hermione the strength to finally look upon Voldermort, you release her from your grip, but maintain close proximity.

“And now is the time to declare yourself. Come forward and join us, or die.” Voldermort states, his arms outstretched– a forced gesture of welcome.

Once again, you can all only afford to stare at him in disbelief.

“Draco!” Lucius calls for his son angrily, and you only realize then that you’ve entirely lost sight of your best friend.

The crowd parts slightly, and you finally spot him at the other side of the courtyard, standing amongst Seamus, George and Dean.

“Draco.” Narcissa coaxes her son in a far gentler manner, but the distress and worry within her gaze is plain for you to see.

Draco stares at his parents for a prolonged moment and then turns to look towards you. Your breath hitches in your throat, the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he means to share the burden with you.

You manage to shake your head at him, signifying disapproval, but it seems he was not looking for advice, it was merely a look of remorse. He was just apologizing for something he was about to do.

Your shoulders slump in disappointment when Draco tears his gaze away from your own, he limps towards his parents, slowly, as if in a trance. 

“Well done, Draco, well done.” The Dark Lord embraces him stiffly for all to see, your jaw tightens when his stare lands on you.

Any fear you felt in that moment has been overshadowed by plain hot resentment.

“Y/n!” Your own father calls for you the same way, you can still feel the weight of everyone’s stare upon you as you refuse to budge.

“Y/n, come here, now.” Your mother warns, but it does nothing to convince you, if anything it has the opposite effect.

You feel Hermione’s hand slip into your own, motivating a streak of confidence.

“I am fine right where I am, mother.” You remark plainly, and you catch the way Voldermort clenches his pale gray hand into a fist for an instant before composing himself.

“Well, I must admit, y/n, I am very disappointed in you. I have no doubt your parents feel the same.” He states, and it works to gain a rise out of you.

However before you can retaliate with something reckless, Voldermort raises his wand to point it at you. “Crucio.”

The next thing you recall is the ground coming up to meet you, and trying to break your fall. A blinding pain that travels from your arm to the rest of your body.

Hermione is crouched over you as you continue to seize on the ground in sheer agony. 

“Stop it! Please, stop!” Your girlfriend's pleas fall on deaf ears.

You faintly hear Voldermort’s mocking laughter amidst your own gripes of pain. Certain you are about to faint, you clench your eyes tightly, but then, it all stops. 

Air violently floods your lungs, you feel the ground again, this time you recognize that you are laying firmly on top of it. You feel Hermione’s desperate hands clutching your body.

The Dark Lord looks upon horrified faces– he is using you as a warning. “I will say it again. Join us, else you will suffer a worse fate that y/n. So I invite you to step forward now.”

Hermione begins to help you back on your feet, but not before kissing your temple. She smoothes out your disheveled hair, a frantic effort to soothe you, or perhaps herself.

“Please tell me you're alright.” She pleads, an anguished whisper. You ignore the sharp pain still pulsating throughout your body to give Hermione some peace of mind.

“I am, I'll be fine.” You reply, taking her arm to resume your place.

Neville slips past you then, this sudden gesture is followed by a wave of gasps. 

You observed as he limped through the crowd and towards Voldermort, your brows furrowed in confusion.

Not Neville. Not him of all people. 

“I must say, I hoped for better.” Voldermort hurls the jibe, brusque and overconfident. The roar of laughter that comes from his followers only causes your scowl to deepen, it is a jarring noise, deeply unsettling.

“And who might you be, young man?” The Dark Lord asks, feigned geniality.

“Neville Longbottom.” Neville admits only for the laughter to come again. 

You shift your weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Hermione mistakes it for a sign you may collapse again so she moves closer, allowing you to lean on her; this only makes you want to weep. 

This isn't right. It was never supposed to happen like this.

“Well, Neville I am sure we can find you a place in our ranks–”

“–I'd like to say something!” Neville's voice bullies over Voldermort’s.

From the looks of it, this would nearly cost him his life, as Voldermort lifts his wand, almost like a reflex but he lowers it just as quickly.

With an air of composure, he responds, but his pretense is waning.

“Well, Neville, I am sure we are all fascinated to hear what you have to say.” Voldermort’s smile only makes him appear even more displeasing to the eye.

“It doesn't matter that Harry's gone.” Neville announces, and you instinctively look to the man in Hagrid’s arms.

This can't be the end.

Only half a heartbeat until you avert your gaze again.

“Stand down, Neville!” Seamus possesses enough gumption to warn his friend, but Neville brushes him off.

“People die everyday!” He insists.

“Friends, family..” Neville trails off.

Again, you feel compelled to keep Hermione close as you notice the way she has been pursing her lips to fight back more tears.

Ron can't seem to pull his eyes away from Hagrid, and his dead best friend.

“Yeah, we lost Harry tonight, but he's still with us, in here.” Neville continues, gesturing loosely to his chest, just above where his heart is.“So is Fred, Remus, and Tonks, all of them.”

“They didn't die in vain!” Neville shouts with a newfound confidence.

“But you will, because you're wrong!”

He challenges the Dark Lord, bold and open, and it makes you wince.

“Harry's heart did beat for us, for all of us!” He continues.

“So it's not over!” Neville exclaims, and the old hat he had been holding droops to the floor. Within it is revealed an unmistakable relic: the sword of Gryffindor.

He unsheathes the steel for all to see.

Then just as suddenly, the unthinkable happens. 

Harry slips out of Hagrid's hold, his body collapses to the ground, but he is not dead, he braces his hands on the ground before rising.

Harry Potter, alive.

“Merlin's beard..” You gape, and Hermione grasps your shoulder, then she laughs, shock and pure relief.

Harry sprints past the Dark Lord, quick, like a cat. He attempts to fish out Draco’s wand from his pocket but it slides past his fingers.

Harry isn't given the opportunity to retrieve it as he is forced to dodge the mania of curses being hurled his way. 

There is only chaos in the courtyard now as Death Eaters begin to disapparate by the dozen, abandoning their leader. 

Everyone else, desperately seeking shelter, out of the courtyard, back into the castle or elsewhere, anywhere away from harm. 

“Come on, we have to go.” Hermione drags you with her, but you turn back for a moment to watch as Draco bravely pushes past the chaos, picking up his wand, unbelievably, he tosses it back to Harry. 

“Potter!” Your best friend shouts just before you lose sight of him in the crowd. Although Harry catches the wand just in time.

“Confringo!” The Chosen One exclaims, Nagini writhes violently as the curse injures her.

The snake. You have to kill the snake.

Harry shares the sentiment as you get to the castle's doors, he falls in next to you, Ron and Hermione. “We need to kill the snake, I'll lure him into the castle.”

You merely nod in response, Harry continues to deflect the curses being hurled at the four of you.

“You'll need this.” Hermione says, retrieving the Basilisk fang from her bag.

The Dark Lord is rapidly inching closer now, fury has become him– yet he has never seemed so meek, utterly powerless.

He is losing, if he has not lost already.

Nagini is all he has left.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You anticipate it, but Hermione shoves you out of the way just in time as a mass of rubble comes crashing down from above.

You stumble, before coughing out a lung full of dust, squinting as it obstructs your vision. Hermione’s grip on your arm is the only thing tethering you to the present.

Harry bumps into you, just as disoriented. He has lost sight of Ron and worst of all, he can't see Voldermort. 

Another large crash causes you all to flinch, it didn't take long at all for the Dark Lord to find you once again.

Harry throws another curse, powerful enough that he loses his balance, the Basilisk fang unluckily slips out of his pocket, bouncing off the stairs and to the flat ground in front of you.

You reach for it, but before you can retrieve the object, the tooth disintegrates right before your eyes. 

“What–” You aren't given the chance to despair as Harry reminds you of an alternative.

“I’ll keep distracting him. Find Neville, he has the sword. Kill that snake.” He states, the sound of curses violently clashing masks his words, the Dark Lord remains oblivious to your plan, for now.

 “Let's try the Great Hall.” Hermione suggests.

“If we can even get there.” You quip, actively trying to work out a way through the rubble.

You follow after Hermione, and soon, Harry disappears through the thick wall of smoke and dust, purposefully luring Voldermort towards the Astronomy Tower.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Here, this way.” Hermione says as she steps through an opening and further down a flight of stairs.

Just when you both think you are out of danger, a noise stops you dead in your tracks.

You spot the large snake coiling around the bannister before slithering across a pile of bricks towards you.

Its hiss sends a shiver down your spine as you reach for your wand.

Hermione on the other hand, acts on pure instinct. Grabbing a piece of stone, she aims it at the snake.

It successfully clips Nagini on the side of her head, but this only succeeds in agitating the beast.

“Oh.” Hermione utters as the snake recoils, ready to attack.

You both lift your wands in preparation but the snake is hit again, this time by a larger curse that disorients it.

“Go on, I'm right behind you.” Ron emerges, 

pushing the both of you to continue on your search for the sword.

You only manage to get to the bottom of the stairs before Ron can be heard groaning in pain.

The snake had managed to trap him in its grasp, it was coiled around his body, an unsettling sight as it attempted to strangle the life out of him.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaims, chasing back up the stairs without a moment's thought.

“Stupefy!” She exclaimed, and the snake loosens its grip on Ron just enough for him to wretch free.

Hermione drags him to his feet and you can only watch in horror as the snake attempts to come at the both of them now.

“Incendio!” She tries again but the fire fizzles out as soon as it touches the beast, as if the snake was made of ice.

It is your turn to sprint up the stairs but the snake whips its head around, baring its fangs at you as warning. You halt abruptly, forced to keep a distance, grasping your wand tightly. 

Hermione shares a pleading look.

It is useless. There are three of you against Nagini, and yet you were helpless without the sword.

This is not going to work. The snake won't die. Distracting it will only mean seriously harming or even killing one of you.

Your mind reels, you frantically scan your surroundings, looking for a solution. 

Then, you are graced with a miracle. Neville appears behind you, barrelling up the stairs, panting, his face caked in dirt and dried blood. He has the sword of Gryffindor in hand.

Hermione let's out another scream that snatches your attention, the snake has attempted to come at them again, and again, Ron has now resulted in shielding your girlfriend with his own body.

You have to kill it now.

As you take another step, Nagini shifts her point of attack, now preparing to lunge towards you.

“Y/n– here!” With only seconds to spare, Neville tosses the steel in your direction. You quickly drop your wand before you manage to catch the sword by the hilt, still unaccustomed to its weight, you grasp it with two hands.

Just like handling a beater's bat, you swing it, firm and hard, slicing the beast across its body mid-air.

There is no blood, instead the snake explodes into a rain of thin black ash, it is unlike anything you have ever seen before. It is all you can look at as you let the point of the sword fall by your feet.

For a while all you can hear is the clang of metal hitting the ground and a faint ringing in your ears, muffled by the sound of your own heavy breathing. 

Neville's touch on your shoulder snaps you out of a trance. “It's over, it's done.” 

Enough sense returns to you as you shift your gaze towards Hermione. Her expression mirrors your own.

The four of you are miraculously alive, and the snake is dead.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

In the aftermath, it did not take much convincing for you to agree to join Hermione, Harry and Ron for a walk along the bridge.

Thankful for fresh air, the afternoon sun was also a welcomed feeling upon your skin, for the first time in days, it felt like you could breathe.

As Hermione struts ahead, you manage to grab ahold of her arm, forcibly tugging her closer to your own body. 

She then lets out a noise in surprise once you capture her lips with your own, but she melts into the kiss just as quickly, your hand slips to the small of her back as she opens her mouth wider to welcome your tongue.

You continue like that without care for a while, until Ron deliberately interrupts your moment by verbalizing his thoughts.

“Bloody hell, give it a rest, you two.” He remarks, but his tone lacks its usual malice as he clears a path by kicking away pieces of rubble. 

You grimace as you feel Hermione pull away from embarrassment.

“Fuck off, Weasley.” You retaliate, and for reasons unbeknownst to you, the sound of Ron's laughter makes you smile.

You part Hermione’s hair away from her neck, tilting your head slightly to leave a trail of open mouthed kisses along her neck.

She smells like sweat– but, in truth, it has never been an unpleasant scent to you. Nothing about Hermione was ever unpleasant.

Even now, sleep deprived and unwashed, she was perfect.

You notice the way Hermione trembles at the sensation of your warm mouth upon her flesh.

It only works to entice you further, but before you can kiss her again, Hermione displays some semblance of self control. 

She braces her hands on your chest, shoving you lightly. “Not here.”

With a pout you meet her gaze and she only rolls her eyes at that, before rewarding you with a quick peck on the lips. 

“We both could use a bath later.” Hermione mutters suggestively, running her fingers through your hair.

A smirk tugs on your lips at that, but before you can retort with something clever, Hermione's gaze shifts to Harry.

The Chosen One stood at the edge of the bridge, where there was once a bannister, now just a stump of concrete and marble.

Harry is observing the wand in his hand as Hermione addresses him. “How come it didn't work for him, The Elder Wand?”

“It answered to somebody else.” Harry replies, turning to look at the three of you.

“When he killed Snape, he thought the wand would become his. but the thing is, the wand never belonged to Snape.”

“It was Draco, who disarmed Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower, from that moment on, the wand answered him.” Harry explains, looking down to inspect it once more.

“Until, the other night, when I disarmed Draco at Malfoy Manor.” He continues and your eyes widen at the realization.

“So that means–” You gape, and Hermione turns to you in disbelief.

Harry nods. “It's mine.” He states, nonchalant as ever.

“What should we do with it?” Ron inquires, and Hermione merely grimaces.

“We?” She scolds.

“Ron's right, I mean, that's the Elder Wand. Most powerful in the world, with that, you'd be invisible.” You remark in support, now Hermione directs her scowl towards you, and you shrug innocently.

Although your expression twists once your gaze flits to Harry once again, he grunts as he struggles to break the wood in half.

You advanced forward to intervene, but it was too late. The wand snaps in two, like a twig. 

Harry turns around, chucking pieces of the most powerful wand in existence off the edge of the bridge.

You chase after it as far as your eyes can see before it disappears, forever.

“What the fuck–” Ron mutters under his breath in shared disbelief, yet Hermione only watches the both of you with amusement.

Then she grabs you by the collar, dragging you away from the ledge.

You are forced to follow as she falls in next to Harry, strolling back to the castle. 

Resisting the urge to confront Harry about what he had just done, you drape an arm across Hermione's shoulder, she welcomes it, intertwining your hands as you walked.

“I'm starving.” Ron remarks, trailing behind you. An effort to shift to a different, much simpler topic of conversation. 

“So am I.” Hermione replies.

“Yeah.. reckon The Three Broomsticks are still open?” You joke, and Harry is first to laugh, followed by your girlfriend and eventually, Ron.

You allow yourself a smile, it is one of relief. You relish in a careless joy you once thought you'd never get to experience again.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

hi gorgeous!! can i req pumpkin picking with jennifer and a female reader?? its not kinky but ive been needing some jen fluff! (i livee for your writing btw 🫶🫶)

ofc you can! and thank you so much, you're very sweet 🥰 (so far you're the only person who's requested for something fall/halloween themed that isn't related to kinktober believe it or not) hope you like it 💕💕

Pumpkin Patch (Jennifer Check x fem reader)

Warnings: very brief and mild swearing, Jen is implied to have already been possessed by the demon at this point but the reader doesn't know, fluff other than that <3

"What about this one?" You asked while pointing to one of the many pumpkins that dotted the massive field.

"It's not round enough," your girlfriend Jennifer critiqued, giving it a judgmental look.

Her answer didn't surprise you. It had been almost an hour since you'd arrived at the pumpkin patch, and she still hadn't found one that she liked.

"Jen, c'mon, it's starting to get cold outside," you lightly complained while zipping up your jacket. "Just pick one so we can go."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're right. The look of the pumpkin doesn't matter, it's the inside that counts," she replied in a snarky tone, placing her hands on her hips. "Which means any old pumpkin will do, even if it's fugly as hell."

You remained quiet while she spoke, pretty used to her attitude by this point. "Seriously, though. We're just going to end up carving it into a Jack-O-Lantern anyway, so why does it need to be perfect?"

She let out an aggravated huff at the question, giving you a look that said, "Are you stupid?" before responding with, "This is kind of, like, my first ever Halloween I've spent doing stupid couples activities. I just want to find one that'll be perfect."

You suddenly felt like the worst girlfriend ever. No wonder she was so deadset on having a perfect pumpkin, she didn't want her first holiday season with a partner that actually cared about her to fall short of her expectations.

"How about we walk back over this way again? Maybe you'll happen to find one that you like," you suggested in a tone that was both soft and understanding while holding your hand out for her to take.

She wanted to roll her eyes and scoff, but she could tell you were really trying your best to make her happy. "Ugh, fine."

Jennifer took your hand, lacing her warm fingers through your cold ones. You had no idea how she always managed to stay so toasty even in such freezing weather conditions, but you weren't complaining.

After what seemed like ages of searching, you were finally able to find a pumpkin that you could both agree on. It was pretty heavy for you, but she didn't even seem to break a sweat when lifting it up.

"You know, I should really be the one carrying it for you so you're not forced to do any hard work," you lightly teased, knowing full well your knees would instantly buckle under the weight.

This time she did roll her eyes, but it was more playful than anything else. "And have you break your back? Absolutely not. I'm not lugging both you and this pumpkin all the way to the emergency room because you decided you wanted to show off."

You grinned at her response, finding it amusing. Despite her aloof personality, you knew if something actually did happen to you she'd be there at an instant in order to help you.

"So how should we carve our pumpkin? Do you want to do the traditional look of a Jack-O-Lantern, or something else?"

"I don't want my pumpkin to look like it was carved by a bunch of nerds, if that's what you're asking," she said with a hair flip, the breeze catching the scent of her perfume and causing it to waft in your direction. You didn't want to sound like a creep, but god did she smell good.

"Well, we can always go online and look for a design there. Maybe Pinterest will have some cool inspos for how we should carve our pumpkin," you began before adding, "Or we could always just freehand it. I mean, if we mess it up we can always just start again with a new one."

Jennifer wasn't even listening at this point, too caught up by the melodious sound of your voice and the exicted sparkle in your eyes to pay much attention to what you were saying. She realized then it didn't even matter how the pumpkin got carved, because she was just happy she got to spend this time with you.

End notes: this was really fun to write <3 I promise I haven't forgotten about Kinktober y'all I'm working on getting a few more days done before I start posting for it again

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @theonetruepotato87 @madisonbeerssecretwife @caplanreblogsfics @certifiedwomenlover

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 66 ~ Just the Beginning

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 6.7k

In this chapter ~ The search continues as the small group ventures out to make sure what Aaron claims is true. After taking every precaution in the books, they head out at nightfall to this so-called community. But the question remains; is this really the safe haven they've been hoping for?

We all stayed relatively silent for most of the journey trying to track down the vehicles in question. But even when the others started having a discussion, I didn't pay them too much attention. My head continuously turned to watch our backs, Abraham right by my side doing the exact same thing with the gun he brought clutched tightly in his hands. I was just glad I wasn't the only one that was paranoid. Everyone else seemed like this was just a casual Sunday stroll as we approached the unfamiliar area, while the two of us seemed to be the only ones that remembered what went down only moments ago.

"How ya doing, Missy?" Abraham's voice asked suddenly.

My brows furrowed in confusion, and it took me a second to realize he was talking to me, "Missy? You do know what my name is right?" I asked genuinely.

He let out a hearty laugh, "Yeah, I do...but I just have a thing for nicknames. Makes it more interesting."

I nodded slowly in understanding, "Okay, sure...but why Missy?"

"I don't know..." he said honestly with a simple shrug, "Just kinda suits you."

That only made me more confused, but I decided to just go along with it. I never really cared much for my name, so maybe this was a bit of an upgrade. "Alright, Missy it is...but I think it's only fair that I give you a nickname too."

"Go ahead." he nodded.

I thought for a moment while my eyes scanned him, before a small smirk was brought to my face, "I think Red suits you...for obvious reasons."

He laughed again at my smartass comment, "That sounds about right...Red and Missy, seems like a good pair to me."

"I have a feeling we will be." I replied with the smallest of smiles.

He returned the gesture while snorting a little in amusement, "You still didn't answer my question."

"I'm okay..." I reassured, almost as if I was reassuring myself as well, "At least...I'm trying to be okay."

"Hey," he said seriously, "That's all anyone can ask for these days; that you're trying. I'm proud of ya." he claimed before he clapped a gentle hand on my shoulder.

A smile made its way to my face once again, wrapping an arm around him in return as our steps seemed to fall in sync, "You're a pretty great guy, you know that? I'm glad I met you." I told him honestly.

He gave my shoulder a squeeze, "I'm real glad to have met you too."

After that we walked the majority of the way side by side, our arms now wrapped protectively around each other. It was nice to know that he would have my back, and I just hoped he knew I would have his; even though it was painfully obvious he could handle himself. I mean this man is a tank and could probably break someone's nose with his fucking pinky. But still, my offer still stands. It was crazy to remember in the beginning I didn't trust him one bit, thinking he was an absolute fool for believing in something so far beyond our reach. But now here he was, offering me comfort and reassurance when I needed it the most. And I apricated that more than he even knew.

A hand being placed on my back is what caused me to turn around, seeing Michonne over my shoulder as she tried to get my attention. "You mind if I talk to her alone?" she asked the man.

He nodded and gave my shoulder another squeeze, before picking up his pace toward the others to give us some space. I watched as she fell in line with me, something clearly clouding her mind, "What's up?"

She shook her head slightly, "Look...I know you don't trust Aaron, okay? I get that." she explained, her words causing me to sigh before she even finished, "But threatening him the way you did, not taking the gun away from his head...that was a lot."

"Chonne," I said warningly, "I don't know what to believe anymore...who I can put my faith in. Taking a risk like this, especially when we have kids with us, it's something we have to be cautious of."

She nodded her head, "I know that. But there's also risks with everything we do. Like helping a priest, or taking in a girl who was with The Governor...or when you helped a crazy lady with a sword." she smirked.

I scoffed, "No, that lady wasn't crazy...she was insane."

She nudged my shoulder with a small smile, "Ha ha." she said sarcastically, "My point is...we all took a chance with a stranger at one time or another, so how is this any different?"

I kept my eyes forward at the people in front of me, pondering over the question she clearly wanted a real answer to. How was it different? It was different because he wasn't alone out here, even if it truly was just one other person. It was different because he had a whole community waiting for him to come back, and who knows how dangerous those people really were. And it was different because they had been watching us for days, possibly weeks. That fact alone made me more weary.

So that's exactly what I told her. "It's different because he's not alone, and they've been watching us for...God only knows how long."

"To see if we would be a threat." she pointed out, "To see if we were good enough people to bring back to the community, maybe they did have a good reason to keep an eye on us. We don't necessarily look friendly and approachable walking mindlessly out here with guns in our hands."

I huffed softly, "Okay, that's fair. But we've been through so much, you know that. So, I'm sorry if I wanted to be extra careful about the whole situation...I can't lose anyone else."

"You don't have to." she reassured, her hand reaching down to give mine a comforting squeeze, "Just trust me on this. We're going to be okay."

I stared at her for a moment, reading her eyes to see that there was nothing but sincerity behind them which only caused me to reluctantly nod my head in agreement. She smiled at me, and we continued to walk together, filling the silence every once and a while when it was starting to feel too quiet. Though a part of me wanted to pick up the pace, knowing in the back of my mind that Rick was counting down the seconds until we came back safely, and I myself was also just as anxious to see if Aaron was really telling the truth.

It didn't take much longer venturing down the long road before we came across a single car and an RV parked off to the side, with fallen trees blocking them from moving any further. I mentally face palmed once I saw the sight, almost wanting it to be some kind of trap just so I could've proved my point. But instead, it just left me looking like the paranoid psycho of the group right alongside Rick.

"He was telling the truth." Michonne announced.

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah we got that, Captain obvious, thank you." I muttered before nudging her and moving forward to walk next to the rest of them.

But before we were able to make it up to the vehicles to check them out, sudden rustling was heard from the bushes just to our right, causing all of us to quickly be on guard. We all collectively assumed the worst as we raised our weapons in the same direction, jumping out of our skin at the sudden noise.

"Not one step closer asshole!" Glenn called out.

But the sounds only grew louder as the figures approached, only to see it was just a couple walkers that emerged from the greenery, and we all seemed to sigh in slight relief that it wasn't more unknown people just beyond the trees.

"I got 'em." Abraham muttered as he grabbed his knife.

"We got 'em." I corrected while sending him a knowing glance, pulling out my silenced weapon as well from around my hips.

He nodded once before moving forward, easily taking down the walker that had its dead eyes targeted on him, while I killed off the one trailing farther behind the first, ripping my blade back out of its forehead.

"Quite the duo we are." I muttered as I cleaned its disgusting blood off of my blade.

"Damn right." he agreed, before cautiously followed me up to the RV to look inside.

I quickly stepped up to the door, ignoring his protests from behind me about letting him go first as I tugged the door open harshly with my gun raised. My eyes moved frantically around the place, moving down towards the other end of the narrow space to see if there was anyone inside, but was left with nothing. The only thing we managed to find were a lot of canned food items in the cabinets right above our heads.

Abraham didn't hesitate to rummage around through the stash, suddenly gasping as his fingertips brushed something towards the back. "Oh, hell yeah." he muttered as he pulled it out for me to see, reading the label to see it was chocolate pudding.

I laughed lightly with a nod in approval before we packed it back up, informing the others waiting outside that it was safe. None of us hesitated after that to pile into the vehicles to head back towards the barn, wanting everyone to know that we were all still alive.

It wasn't long before we pulled up to the destination without any problems, though we were all faced with a bunch of guns aimed in our faces the moment we stepped through the doors. But the group visibly relaxed once they saw it was just us, relieved to see we had made it back safely with seemingly no problem. One by one we brought in the many food items that were stashed away in the RV for the others to see, to which Rick quickly jumped on the opportunity to inspect every little thing. But in the end, nothing looked like it had been tampered with.

Rick then stepped forward, looking to where Aaron was now tied up, "This is ours now." he said matter-of-factly while holding up one of the cans in his grasp.

"There's more than enough." he assured.

"It ours whether or not we go to your camp." he said.

Carl made a face like he was dumbfounded, "Why wouldn't we go?" he asked suddenly.

"If he were lying, or if he wanted to hurt us; we wouldn't go. But he isn't...and he doesn't. We need this... so we're going, all of us. Somebody say something if they feel differently." Michonne spoke up.

There was a moment of silence before Daryl scoffed from beside me, "I dunno man...this barn smells like horse shit."

I nudged his side to silence him, hearing him mutter a small "ow" as he rubbed the sore spot on his arm. I was having trouble deciding if I should speak up or not when Michonne gave us the chance. He was telling the truth about the cars and the photos were actual proof that this place existed, but who knew if we were ready for this. Ready to commit to something so serious, and ready to meet a bunch of new people that may or may not be a threat.

But then I looked over at Carl holding Judith tightly in his arms and my heart instantly knew what it wanted. It wanted a safe place for everyone, but especially for these kids who deserved the whole world; and believe me I would give it to them if I could. Which is why for once in my life, I kept my mouth shut. For them.

I scanned everyone's faces around me and saw that no one seemed to be making an effort to protest and claim we shouldn't go, before my eyes landed on Rick. He looked to be deep in thought, seeing as everyone else was more than willing to explore this new opportunity, his eyes then meeting mine from among the others. The look on my face must've given him some type of reassurance because then next thing I knew, he was agreeing.

"Yeah." he muttered, "We're going."

Daryl squeezed my hip lightly when the decision was finally settled, looking up at him with the best smile I could muster. Although it was clear I wasn't fooling him in the slightest as he furrowed his brows a bit in concern, but he clearly knew that I was still weary of this place, unsure about everything as a whole. I just had to remind myself to be ready for anything, to not let my guard down for a very long time. At least not until I knew for sure that this community could keep us protected.

"So, where are we going? Where's your camp?" Rick asked.

The man looked a little unsure, "Every time I've done this, I've been behind the wheel driving recruits back. I believe you're good people, I've bet my life on it...I'm just not ready to bet my friends lives on it."

"You're not driving." I spoke up, "So if you want to get home, you'll have to tell us how."

He looked up at me with clear hesitance, but the look I gave him caused his shoulders to slump in defeat before glancing back toward Rick. "Go north or Route 16." he muttered.

Rick began marking up the map in which direction to head, circling the road in question, "And then?" I pressed.

"I'll tell you when we get there." he said calmly.

I tilted my head a little at his stubbornness before getting down to his level, "You know, for a guy who desperately wants people to trust him, you sure are being pretty vague about where you're taking us." I said lowly.

He didn't have a chance to respond before Rick spoke up, "We'll take 23 North, you'll give us directions from there."

"That's– I don't know how else to say it, that's a bad idea. We've cleared 16 it'll be faster." he assured.

"We'll take 23." Rick argued casually, "We'll leave at sundown."

Sasha spoke up from the back, "We're doing this at night?"

"Look, I know it's dangerous, but it's better than riding up to the gates during the day. If it isn't safe, we need to get out before they know we're there."

"No one is going to hurt you." Aaron slightly snapped, probably fed up with the constant accusations towards him and his friends.

"We don't know that." I clapped back, "We don't know anything about this place other than what it fucking looks like."

He shook his head at me, "I know you're trying to protect your group, but you're putting them in danger."

Rick stood to his full height and walked right up beside me, "Tell us where the camp is, we'll leave right now." he said simply.

Aaron just slowly shook his head and looked back down to the ground. I scoffed before standing back up from my hunched position while Rick addressed the others, "It's going to be a long night. Eat, and rest if you can." he nodded, before slowly walking outside to get some air.

A long night...that was a mild way of putting it.

All of us tried our best to get at least a little sleep before we headed out for the camp, but it was proven to be more difficult than we anticipated considering the amount of stress and anxiety that weighed heavily in the space. We could all feel it, how much it was affecting us. And it was safe to say no one got even a wink of rest within the few hours we sat there doing absolutely nothing.

I couldn't stop overthinking even if I tried. Daryl tried numerous times to reassure me of my worries, even trying to get me to lay beside him so I could sleep, but my mind just wouldn't stop racing. My restlessness only influenced his own as he couldn't seem to settle either. The time passed by incredibly slow while we talked with one another to try and ease the obvious worry, but it didn't help much. Nothing seemed to. Now I only wished Abraham had saved that whiskey.

The moment the sun began to dip in the sky, we all gathered our things to pack up and head out for the journey ahead. It was then Rick pulled me aside and asked if I would ride in the separate car where Aaron would be just in case things went wrong. And I agreed; anything that would help put his mind at ease. Daryl was obviously hesitant to let me go alone, but he did nonetheless, knowing that I could handle myself if need be. Even if he wasn't around to protect me.

I kept my weapons on me securely as we rounded everyone up, starting up the engines to head off once it grew dark enough to move without being spotted. And though it was a cautious idea to stay out of sight, it was proving to be more difficult to see.

My body was leant against the passenger side door while Rick drove through the night, Glenn and Aaron just in the back. Right then and there I found myself wishing I had ridden in the RV along with everyone else. Not because I suddenly felt unsafe, but because of the God awful awkward silence the filled the car. Rick was tense as he drove, gripping the steering wheel tightly, the rest of us clearly playing it safe as to not say a word at the feeling of his energy.

Out of my own boredom, I eventually reached for the glove compartment to see what was inside, pulling out a few license plates that laid comfortably inside. I flipped through the few that were in my hands, noticing that they were all from different states, each unique and colorful.

"Oh, I'm trying to get all fifty to hang them up in my house." Aaron said, glancing over my shoulder to see what I had grabbed.

I turned around to look at him, "You have your own house?"

"Mhm." he hummed with a nod of his head.

My eyes instinctively glanced back toward Rick to see I had caught his eye, having a silent exchange before I put the license plates back where I found them without a word. It didn't really surprise me anymore that he and I could just give a certain look and instantly seem to know what was going through one another's minds. I didn't know how we did it, but we did. Like twin telepathy or some freaky shit.

Though Aaron seemed to quickly catch onto it, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of us to catch the small act before quietly clearing his throat.

"So...I might be totally wrong here, but are you- are you guys...together?" he hesitantly asked.

I quickly looked back to see him gesturing between Rick and I, and we both instantly shook our heads with disapproving noises. "Oh, hell no." I muttered a little too loud.

"Hey." Rick spoke a bit offendedly.

"Oh, come on," I scoffed, "Don't get all upset, it's just...you're..." I trailed off as I looked at him, trying to find a good explanation, "You're Rick." I said simply as I gave him a pat on the shoulder.

He nodded slowly with a huff, "Alright, yeah fair enough."

Aaron chuckled a bit awkwardly whilst Glenn tried not to laugh at all at the assumption. "So...you're with someone else?" Aaron asked again, clearly just trying to make conversation.

"Yeah..." I said cautiously, "I thought it was kind of obvious."

"The guy with the crossbow?" he guessed.

I thought for a moment if I should really commit to the truth, knowing he could easily use it against me if he wanted. But realistically what could he do? His hands were currently tied behind his back as we had control of the car we were riding in; safe to say we had the upper hand. So, I simply nodded my head to confirm, not wanting to get too deep into that hole.

"He looks like the guy you would want to have around...seems protective, and...scary."

I snorted softly at his honesty, not being able to agree more as I stayed quiet once again, the car falling back into a silence that was a little less tense than before.

My gaze kept panning back over towards the side mirror, making sure I could still see Abraham following close behind us in the RV with the headlights almost blinding me every time I looked. And then that's when it hit me. When Rick was looking through the many pictures Aaron provided, I didn't recall seeing one single person in any of them.

I turned back around slowly and made eye contact with the man, "How come you didn't have any pictures of your group?"

"Oh, I took one. But the exposure wasn't right." he said casually.

My suspicion only grew as I stared at him before turning back to Rick, sharing another uneasy look, "Did you ask him the questions?" Glenn asked.

"No..." Rick sighed.

I turned back to him again, "How many walkers have you killed?"

He shook his head at me, confusion creeping onto his features as his brow furrowed, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Did I stutter? How many?" I asked again.

He shrugged, "I don't know...a lot."

"How many people have you killed?"

This was the question that most people seemed to hesitate on, and he clearly wasn't any different than the rest as he paused for a moment and thought, but didn't break my gaze. "Two." he stated.

"Why?"

"Because they tried to kill me."

I found myself nodding in understanding, seeing he looked to be telling the truth as I turned back to face the road again. His answers made sense and he didn't fumble on any of them. Maybe this could all work out.

"What the hell is this?" Rick asked suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I looked down to see some type of machine, not fully understanding what it was used for upon first glance. My brows furrowed as I picked it up to inspect it a bit better than before, my eyes slightly widening when it clicked in my mind.

"You were listening to us?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the object in my hands.

He sighed, "I already said I was watching you...so, yes I was listening too."

Rick's head snapped over to me, "This means his people could have one too. They could've heard our plan, this isn't safe!"

In the midst of all the yelling and panic, I glanced up just in time to see the sudden large group of walkers ahead on the road, "Watch out!"

"Shit!" Rick cursed, not having enough time to swerve as he started to plow right through them at an intense speed.

Blood splattered all over the windshield and I cringed at the sounds of the snarls mixed with the crunches of their decaying bones. But to my surprise, he didn't slow down or stop at any point, his foot only pushing further on the gas as we continued to hit one dead body after another.

"Rick!" I yelled.

"They were right behind us! They would've hit us, now they can get out." Rick said as he nodded behind us toward the others.

The growls never subsided as he continued to fucking send it through the herd, their blood now coating the car to the point where the headlights were now tinted red as they illuminated our surroundings. All of us flinched every time he ran over one after another, silently wondering how the hell we were going to get out of this if they just kept coming. But the numbers slowly dwindled down once we got through the worst, Rick managing to find a clearing near the grass where he harshly pulled the car over, shoving it in park before suddenly getting out. It was confirmed; he lost his damn mind.

My eyes widened as I quickly hopped out alongside him, peering at him over the car, "What the hell are you doing!?"

"I don't see them!" he yelled back as he looked behind us for the RV that had seemingly disappeared.

I followed his line of sight and noticed that I couldn't see any other set of headlights coming our way. A pit formed in my stomach at all the possibilities of what could've happened to them, and it such a short span of time.

"They had to have gotten away. Let's go circle back and find them." he announced.

I just nodded my head and got back in the vehicle, watching as he attempted to clean off the windshield from the disgusting blood and guts as much as he could before jumping back in the driver's seat. Glenn frantically handed him the map as he gave him directions on where to go, Rick nodding his head to confirm he heard as he tried to turn the key to bring the engine to life. But of course, it refused to start, only managing to sputter pathetically.

"Son of a bitch." I cursed.

"Come on!" Rick yelled as he hit the steering wheel, trying to turn the key again but was just met with clicking when the scrap of metal didn't budge.

Glenn cursed from the back as he then rushed out of the car, trying to see if he could fix whatever was happening while Rick aggressively kept turning the key over and over again. The sound of the herd was growing nearer with the more attention we drew to ourselves, opening up my door to peer out and see how much time we had before they were on our asses. The group was large and unescapable if we continued to just sit here, being at war with myself as I considered the possibility of outrunning them instead.

"We need to leave now." Aaron said with a crack of panic in his voice.

"Yeah, no shit." Rick sneered as he tried again to start it up again.

I sat back in the seat with a breath, raking my brain for anything that would help us, when a flicker of red light suddenly caught my attention from above the night sky. "Look!" I said as I pointed to the flare.

"Shit..." Aaron muttered.

Rick looked back at him, "Who did that?"

"I need to leave. This is over, let me out. I need to get out of here." he muttered frantically as he tried to exit the car with his bonded wrists.

Rick and I continued to press him for answers, but all it was doing was making his panic grow, avoiding every single one we threw at him as his sole focus was getting out of the car as fast as possible. But he quickly realized he wasn't getting anywhere on his own. It wasn't until Glenn opened up the back door to see if we saw the same flare that he did, and Aaron didn't waste the opportunity. In an instant, he kicked Glenn backward and onto the ground so he could stumble out of the car clumsily and take off toward the woods.

"Fuck no." I muttered under my breath before swiftly exiting the car to run after him.

"Rose, just leave him! We have to find our people!" Rick yelled after me.

I turned back briefly, "They saw that flare, they think we shot it! This is how we find them!" I yelled, taking out my gun before rushing through the dark forest.

I sprinted quickly through the woods, squinting to see which way he turned, but it was far too hard to tell what direction his figure turned off in. I heard heavy footsteps following behind me, seeing Rick and Glenn hot on my heels trying to catch up as I continued to move with ease. The three of us mindlessly searched, continuously watching our backs for the walkers that managed to follow behind. But apparently there was a lot more than we anticipated.

My heavy steps came to a sudden halt when a number of them had somehow surrounded us in the pitch black, leaving us with no kind of opening as we made out their figures. I aimed my gun to fire at the ones near, backing up simultaneously as they followed with every shot I gave, being drawn toward the noise. My breathing was heavy as I killed them off one by one, unaware of how much distance I was putting between me and the others. Just focusing on staying alive long enough to pinpoint them again.

Eventually once the last body fell to the ground, I whipped back to see if I could spot them, but instead I had completely lost sight of where they had gone. I listened carefully for any kind of indication of which direction they escaped, but I was only met with the sounds of my own heart racing, everything turning oddly quiet.

Though a sudden scream tore through the silence, causing me to immediately take off toward the noise. All I could think as I ran was the worst case scenario, not knowing if a walker had somehow gotten them, if they had ran into more trouble with strangers, or if someone just tripped. The possibilities were endless. But I slowed to a stop when I came across the victim, seeing Aaron pinned up against a tree as a walker was trying to grab him, pushing it away desperately with his feet while his hands were still tied.

I debated in my mind for a moment, wondering if I should just leave him to fend for himself after the stunt he just pulled moments ago. But my conscience managed to get the better of me in the end. I groaned to myself in frustration, jogging up the rest of the way to take out my knife and stab the walker in the head harshly. The moment I pulled my weapon back and the walker fell limp, his fearful eyes met my own, sputtering to try and say something. But I didn't give him the chance before I was turning him around forcefully.

"Don't make me regret this." I muttered before cutting the rope that held his wrists in a death grip, tearing it apart.

He turned back towards me and opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of gunshots from a distance cut him off and caught both of our attention, and I knew I had to follow them. "Run if you want, I don't give a shit anymore. I have better things to worry about."

"Wait." he called out just as I went to walk away, "We...we can make it together, but we can only make it together..."

I looked him over for a moment, "So, you're with me?" I asked genuinely.

He nodded shakily, seeming to be sure of himself. I gave him a nod in return, allowing myself to put my trust in him for once as I told him to keep up before we took off again. We ran side by side trying to pinpoint the noise of Glenn and Rick now calling my name and the gunfire that followed. Though it was difficult to find, everything feeling like it was bouncing off each other in every direction. But finally with the little once of luck we had left, the two of us managed to catch a glimpse of them fighting off the remaining lone walkers around the area.

I quickly ran up and aimed my weapon towards the few they hadn't gotten yet from behind, the sudden noise making the both of them whip around, relief washing over their features.

"You can tie me up again, but you have to hurry." Aaron said.

"No time." Rick grumbled, "We have to go."

We didn't need to be told twice, quickly making our way back toward the road to try and figure out where the beam of light originally came from. Rick mentioned that it was near the water tower, one that seemed to be further down the long and windy road. But none of us hesitated to pick up our pace down towards the giant thing sticking out high above the trees to find our people.

Once we were finally close enough to the structure, I began to follow the tire tracks that they had left behind. The thick black marks were only growing closer as I followed them through the small town that was nearly completely run down, tracking them all the way until we hit an alleyway. The RV was parked on the side, and I let out a single whistle, waiting for a response before any of us took another step closer through the dark and unfamiliar place.

Only seconds passed before we heard the same whistle tone calling right back to us, that being all we needed to hear to spring forward again, wanting to make sure they were all okay. The door to the bricked building right beside the RV flew open as everyone seemed to pile out at one time to make sure we were okay after the disaster that followed. I made a beeline toward Daryl the moment I spotted him, falling into his opened arms in exhaustion while letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"You alright?" he asked softly, kissing the side of my head.

I nodded slowly against his frame, "Yeah...yeah, I'm good."

I looked around to everyone else once we parted from each other, hugging whoever I could reach as I saw there wasn't a scratch on any of them. But I managed to catch out of the corner of my eye, Aaron quickly disappearing into the building they all came out of just moments ago. Like it was almost familiar to him.

I managed to sneak off and follow him hesitantly, the main space only being lit up by the moon just outside the windows, before seeing an orange light dispersing from the room around the corner. Peeking my head inside, my eyes widened as I saw Aaron fully making out with another man who was laying down on an old mattress, his foot wrapped up like he was injured. I subtly held my breath as I didn't want to intrude, obviously seeing the moment I was about to interrupt before slowly backing up to head back outside without a word.

Everyone's eyes snapped to me when the door creaked open, and I just shook my head. "We should give them a minute."

But Rick was fast to stalk up toward the door behind me, "No, let's not." he said before entering anyways despite my disguised protest.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance, "Okay." I muttered before turning to follow everyone else back inside the building.

We all piled into the small dim lit room just outside of where Rick vanished, waiting patiently as the group spread out to sit or lean against a nearby wall. Though it wasn't very long before the two men came back outside, Aaron looking more than grateful as he stared at all of us.

"Thank you." he said sincerely, "You saved Eric. I owe you, all of you. And I will make sure that debt is paid in full when we get to our community."

Oh yeah. Tell me why I completely forgot our whole agenda just because of a minor bump in the road.

"Now, I'm not sure about you but I'd rather not do any more driving tonight...maybe we can hit the road tomorrow morning." he continued.

"That sounds fine." Rick said from behind him, "But if we're staying the night here, you're sleeping over there." he pointed to a corner, far away from where Eric was staying.

Maggie stepped up, "You really think we gotta do that?"

"It's the safe play; we don't know you." Rick argued.

"The only way you're going to stop me from being with him right now is by shooting me." Aaron said, his eyes full of seriousness.

A small smirk played on my lips at his determination, but it quickly fell when I saw that Rick wasn't budging and was probably contemplating shooting him for real.

"Rick," my voice caught his attention, "Come on."

"You trust him?" he asked me.

I sighed before stepping a bit closer to close the gap between us so I could lower my voice, "They're both unarmed and one of them has a broken ankle. He's just worried about him...and I know I would be the same way if it were Daryl in there. Just take a breath."

He searched my eyes for any sign that I was unsure, "One man." I said simply, "Just like he said."

Rick exhaled heavily as he silently knew I was right; he was telling the truth from the very start. Why lie now? "Alright." he agreed, letting Aaron pass back into the room.

Everything then began to quiet down. The others managed to spread out among the small room, finding a good place to rest for the evening before we would be on the road again the first thing in the morning according to Rick. The night was peaceful. It was moments like these where I missed Beth the most, how she would sing a song that everyone fell absolutely in love with. Her soft voice echoing around the prison cells in the most beautiful way, leaving us all smiling. My back was leaning against the wall with my knees to my chest, as I fiddled with her bracelet on my wrist.

My fingers tugged at the material while my gaze was glued to the colorful yarn, only looking back up when I heard Daryl's familiar footsteps heading toward me. I smiled faintly, watching as he wordlessly handed me a bottle of water before taking a seat beside me.

I thanked him quietly and took a swing to quench my dry throat, before passing it right back to him, "What do ya think?" he asked.

I looked at him, "About what?"

"Bout the community...ya think it's as safe as it seems?" he spoke a bit hesitantly.

I shrugged, "I don't know...I hope it is. But that still doesn't mean we should completely trust it no matter how it looks. Looks can still be...deceiving."

"That's okay," he reassured, "Bein cautious is okay."

"I know..." I nodded, leaning my head back against the surface as I stared at him, "Just...know that whatever happens tomorrow...I'm still with you till the end."

A growing smile was brought to his face, nodding firmly in agreement, "You 'n me, baby." he promised in return, reaching down for my hand to leave a gentle kiss against my palm.

The following morning was nerve racking...dreadful. Leaving us on edge for what we were going to see walking into this unfamiliar place. Rick drove the small car once again, glancing down at the map every once and a while to be certain he was going the right way. My hands fidgeted anxiously in my lap once I knew we were getting closer, feeling Daryl gently intertwine our fingers to get me to calm down, even for just a moment. But he was nervous too; I could sense that clear as day even if he wouldn't admit it.

To be honest I didn't even know if he truly wanted to come here, at least not for himself. It felt as if his reasons for agreeing only matched my own, so everyone else could be protected. And nothing else mattered.

My attention was then drawn to the front as I felt Rick slow down the vehicle, seeing we had made it up to the front gates, rolling down his window to take a listen to the surroundings. I watched as his eyes shifted from stern and cold, to soft and hopeful at the sound of children laughing and people talking about behind the large walls before us. His demeanor instantly shifting.

He set a gentle hand on his son's shoulder from the passenger seat before looking back at us with the smallest of nods, shutting off the engine so we could all pile out. The remainder of the group slowly emerged from the RV as we all came to stand in front of the giant gated place before us, almost in disbelief that this somehow wasn't a dream. I chewed my lip anxiously, and automatically reached for Daryl's hand to give it a nervous squeeze.

Without taking his eyes off the gate, I felt him squeeze my hand back three times as I subtly held my breath in anticipation. All I could do in that moment was hope, which was something I thought we lost long ago. But maybe, just maybe, we didn't.

Maybe this was just the beginning.

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist ~ @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysurffering98 @mystictf @remuslittlesister

[familyagrestefanblog]

There is this ongoing thing with Adrien drawing back from kissing Marinette all the time, which at this point in "Collution" doesnt make sense anymore as him just 'backing out'. "Emotion" too brought this up already as legitimate issue Adrinette is going through that after the ending of "Adoration" every single time Adrinette tried to kiss, Adrien stopped it and even ran away.

This is a great opportunity for me to FINALLY talk about this massive subtext plot that started for real with the end of "Adoration" but up til now I didn't know from which angle I should approach an analysis post about it. This kissing detail being back and visually more elaborated on is EXACTLY what I needed!

In "Collusion" we see that Adrien's facial expression looks like as if an older order put in him is lighting up for a second preventing him from kissing her:

I mean, the shot composition is even purposfully leading your eyes towards Adrien's head with the background wall for example. It's clear who you're supposed to focus on the most.

"Emotion" already implied it through dialog but "Collusion" now pretty much proves that the one time on-screen we saw Adrien draw back from Marinette in "Emotion" wasn't merely caused by the damn phone (although this isnt the first time something weird happens with Adrien's phone this season) or an order somehow given in real time as one would assume, every single time after "Adoration" where Adrinette tried to kiss, Adrien seems to be stopped by an order Gabriel gave him after Gabriel turned Adrien into a puppet in the end scene and Marinette was so worried about if Adrien might be in danger in his home, but tried to remain hopeful:

This is something I figured for a while now. That we were supposed to feel exactly what Marinette is feeling here. She has no idea if Gabriel is doing something to Adrien and if its bad. She is the the outside person, she doesnt know whats happening in that house and she can't help Adrien once he's in it alone with his father. All she can do is hoping that there is another explaination.

Though that turns out to be wishful-thinking, because "Emotion" in fact has already told us that Gabriel did something to Adrien on this evening in "Adoration" after Adrien was forced back inside and Gabriel kept on and on twisting and using the ring while creeping backwards where WE know exactly that Adrien has just returned inside. They would have met in the foyer.

There is nothing far-fetched about a conversation having taken place once Marinette was gone and in my opinion it feels more like wishful denial to say that Gabriel 100% totally did not go to talk to his son. I mean, Adrinette was straight up about to have their first kiss right in Gabriel's view and that right after the events of "Protection", the episode right before "Adoration":

Re-enforcing to Adrien through harsher means to not be in a relationship with Marinette seems like a fitting punishment order Gabriel would pull after "Adoration's" horror show ending.

Give me a logical reason for why that wouldnt have been a realistic thing to happen? A reason that please isnt rooted in the logic of "we didnt see it when we followed Marinette's pov and therefore nothing happened". Cause I sure followed Marinette's pov and she ended this episode very alarmed and concerned.

Alarmed and concerned for a very good reason. The entirety of "Emotion" then goes on and on and ON about asking WHY Adrien is acting so weird and WHY he hasn't told Marinette about the Diamond Ball:

This question is a central theme all through the entire episode, and in the end the truth about Adrien's silence gets revealed.

Marinette herself has no idea and everyone else in this episode is also just giving their best guess of what makes the most sense for them. But that doesn't mean anybody actually got this right. And we know that because in the end Adrien outright SAYS that he didnt mention it because his father ORDERED him not to:

And then Adrien's and Gabriel's father son talk elaborates on that further from Gabriel's perspective:

I don't know what to tell you, it's right THERE. Adrien did not tell Marinette because Gabriel forbit it. It was an order Adrien couldnt go up against because it explicitly stated that Adrien is not allowed to tell Marinette specifically about the Diamond Ball. And as we saw in "Emotion" this order manifested in Adrien panicking around Marinette and lying in a way that at least somewhat still contained the truth:

I really find it upsetting when people victim-blame Adrien for not rebelling and "being brave" the way Félix and Kagami do (or even worse, compare him to Marinette who isnt a Sentihuman at all) because unlike them Adrien is not wearing his own amok AND is unfortunate enough to have both his parental figures wear them, so of course there are alot of direct interactions.

But if that one moment in "Collusin", where Adrien talks back at his father, indeed showcased Nathalie giving Adrien the means to really fight back for a moment by having laid her ring hand on Adrien's so one of his amoks would for the first time touch his skin and making it possible to nullify Gabriel's order depending on how passionately Adrien is against it, then this was a first taste of what Adrien would be like if he were given full control over himself:

Nathalie did that on purpose to protect Adrien from Gabriel and enable him to choose his own happiness as Emilie wished, which is what we saw moments before:

Adrien in "Emotion" and "Pretention" was not a 'coward', that is such disgusting victim-blaming against a person who is literally mind-controlled by their parent without even knowing it for their entire life. It's like giving Kagami shit for giving her amok back to her mother when Tomoe demands it, as if Kagami KNOWS that her ring holds her entire mental and physical autonomy. These poor children have it horrible enough being literally almost enslaved to their parents demands from the day they were born for some sort of sick purpose. Cool that Marinette doesn't have that problem at all and Félix doesn't have it anymore so THEY are able to do whatever they want, but they have no business being held as the golden standard.

This is about Kagami and Adrien who are still being taken advantage of and lied to ever since birth from the people who are supposed to love and protect them. Yes, they act weird and nerve-wreckingly sometimes and in ways that apparently dissappoints you because - of course - if you were a Sentihuman half enslaved and kept in the dark by your parent you would just choose to not have those problems, no biggie, but unfortunately Adrien and Kagami arent you.

They're weird and frustrated. Weird, frustrated, exhausted and abused little half-slaves, left in the dark and still minors so they cant escape anyway.

These things matter.

DETAILS matter.

Details like between the ending of "Adoration" and "Emotion" the episode has Marinette tell us that there was a time skip we didnt see in which Adrien has been acting very weird:

New and suspicious extremes MATTER.

Gabriel crossed a massive line by turning Adrien into a literal puppet at the end of "Adoration" seemingly for the first time from a further distance, since this seems to be the first time THIS happened in Adrien's head:

The fact alone that this was the instance where Gabriel crossed such a fundamental line is already a give-away that whatever is about to follow from Gabriel as Adrien's father from this moment onwards will be on an even more extreme layer of abusive. Which we know to be true from all the episodes afterwards.

But even if you wanna ignore all that, Marinette is then increasingly more worried about Adrien's safety in his home and everything regarding his father and has to truly face for the first time her underlying fear of "what if Gabriel isnt just a bad father?" and "What if Adrien is even being hurt in some way?" although she tried to approach it from deflecting angles until Gabriel talked to her in "Pretention".

But more and more Marinette is learning in what hellhole Adrien has been living in for all his life.

Because, you know, that is the case with highly abusive parents and its something one very likely has to face when one enteres a relationship. This is perfectly realistic, just the abuse method is fantasy. Something the show is not yet letting any of the children besides Félix know yet.

But we KNOW that Adrien is a Sentihuman at his abusive father's mercy and "Emotion" tells us that Marinette's concern at the end of "Adoration" was correct. Gabriel DID do something to Adrien but we, just like Marinette, couldnt fully see it because the biggest portion of the abuse happened behind closed doors as most abuse does. And Marinette, just like us, was left wondering what just happened to Adrien when she saw something disturbing happen to him which may stand in connection to his father.

And she, just like us, asks herself if he's even safe living with this man (no he isnt) when THIS is what happend to Adrien just being near his home and father:

And just like Marinette WE were supposed to find Adrien's silence after this concerning. Marinette read this correctly but she doesnt know yet how to properly interpret all of Adrien's types of silence and the family contexts surrounding it.

Adrien didnt tell Marinette about the Diamond Ball because Gabriel silenced his son, something that Adrien himself wouldnt properly recognize as such and only blames himself for as a failure on his part.

Who cares what the other characters' guesses are for why he didnt say anything? The only two people who truly know why Adrien didnt tell her are Adrien and Gabriel themselves because that's the abusive parent and his abused child. And that's the truth Marinette should be after. Not the one she prefers to be true and she is finally making good progress on that front.

And we can take the silencing in "Emotion" even further, because that wasn't the only time skip + silencing situation we had.

Just like in between "Adoration" and "Emotion", there is yet another significant time skip very cleverly handled - and almost hidden - between "Emotion" and "Pretention". We know that there is a time skip because once again Adrinette tells us:

Honestly, no doubt they will go back to these important time skips in season 6 or 7, there is so much important Marinette development for her love-related anxiety alone deliberately skipped before and after "Emotion" because of what it was entangled with. Not to mention everything else!

Optional rant ahead, I need to get this out of my system for a second: "Emotion" still barely makes sense and dont get me started on Félix! When do you think he fell in love with and stalked Kagami besides in the time skip? He wasnt in love with her before he found out at the diamond ball that she's like him, he probably barely made anything of her when he thought her to be a "normal human". Kagami and Marinette were not part of Felix' plan, Kagami he only just found out is a sentihuman too and therefore deserving of concideration for him, and Marinette wasnt even supposed to be there!

I swear, "Emotion" and the time skips before and afterwards are driving me crazy. I have to make a seperate post for the Felix and Amilie stuff alone and Adrien too was just plain weird in that episode with no proper explaination besides for the little amout that was required to make this work for Marinette's outsider perspective who doesnt know what's going on inside those families anyway. Félix apparently was gone for WEEKS and apparently both Adrien and Kagami knew that because they werent surprised hearing that and neither Gabriel nor Tomoe seemed to care that Amilie went off on Gabriel about it in infront of their children.

Félix was gone for weeks. Adrien knew it. And then we see Adrien immediately recognizing Félix as peacock miraculous holder even despite the magic; not being too surprised seeing Felix there transformed and AT ALL when he should be missing and is willing to go to him in a friendly enough and trusting manner despite that being weird too with no context! Félix is a completely new person who suddenly is aware that Adrien has always been a victim caught in a hellhole with Gabriel and what the fuck was that fake miraculous ring from Adrien Felix had?

Screw you, something happened there in this time skip before "Emotion" and we only got to see the tip of the ice berg! And screw this show for barely giving context for anything in "Emotion" yet because we are stuck with Marinette as main character and Adrien didnt wanted to involve her in his family shit because why would he?

*GROAN* I'm turning grey because of this damn show...

ANYWAY

What "Pretention" does very cleverly is picking up the same character goals established at the end of "Emotion" prior and starting this episode with it. But that doesnt mean at all that this is the next day. NOTHING about what Adrinette tells us about how Gabriel now breathes down their necks makes sense if this is merely the next day:

It's at the very least a couple of days and that's being VERY generous. I'm personally putting it at one week. That would mean Gabriel is being increasingly more of an ass for one school week where Adrinette has to get more and more creative (and Adrien ending up knowing when his father is busy) and at the beginning of the second Marinette has had it. One week is also a perfectly reasonable timeframe for the kids to put off talking to Gabriel and Tomoe while its also a realistic point in time where you would draw the line and motivate yourself again to finally do it.

Kagami's dialogue is the factor that very cleverly tricks the audience into thinking it can just be the next day since Kagami is "oh so much braver than Adrien who doesnt dare to talk to his father", which the episode then subverts by showing that Kagami rightfully fears her mother too and shouldnt be concidered less for it because Tomoe is an abusive hardass too who Kagami needs to be protected from as (her) child and Sentihuman who doesnt know she is one & the end of "Emotion" literally showed us Adrien talking to his father right after he told Marinette that he would try to convince him to have a heart-to-heart with her to clear up whatever he has against her:

Adrien did NOT fail to talk to his father after he said he would because we saw him do it right away. What he did "fail" to do though was mentioning towards the girls that he already talked with his father and tell them what Gabriel said - though that's understandable, Gabriel is being an irrational fuck; blaming the fiasco on Marinette when it's realistically on Félix - and to convince his father to talk to Marinette. But even for this Adrien's on-screen talk with Gabriel has the explaination for:

Did you pick up on the pattern too? That as well was an explicit order from Gabriel with the ring.

Adrien in "Pretention" didnt 'manage' to talk to his father again about him and Marinette so they can have a heart-to-heart because prior to that Gabriel forbit Adrien through an order to ever mention Marinette towards him again (and that means, since Adrinette didnt talk to Gabriel yet, Kagami in turn put off talking to her mother too)

So of course Adrien couldnt do it, which is why he went along with the only option he subconciously felt like he had left. Bringing Marinette to his father so SHE can talk to him by his side, forcing his father into a corner. Adrien unknowingly loopholed himself and out of Gabriel's order that's literally silencing him.

Details, time skips and circumstances matter.

So to bring this back to the failed Adrinette kissing in "Collution":

I'm pretty sure that from the ending of "Adoration" onwards we are now going to see a further and further escalation of ways for Gabriel to enforce his power over Adrien. Regularly just as his father (which is already bad enough) and also the ways in which Gabriel can hurt Adrien through the amok ring

- but in ways he can for now at least somewhat still hide from Nathalie, though no doubt this is going to end BADLY where even Nathalie cant help Adrien anymore as it was already established that Gabriel can absolutely do that and still cross so many more lines-

and in "Emotion" that already included silencing Adrien from letting Marinette know about the Diamond Ball and then not letting him talk about Marinette to him at all (for which I'm quite sure Nathalie touching Adrien with the amok ring in "Collution" helped Adrien break through that barrier because that WAS the first time he really talked ABOUT Marinette towards Gabriel since "Emotion" that isnt just him mentioning her name in logical situations or vaguely talking around the relationship topic like in "Pretention").

But I'm also betting that Gabriel odered Adrien to not kiss Marinette after he puppeteered Adrien back into the mansion in "Adoration" or some other variation of an official grand gesture that Adrien is in a relationship with her. Something that... yeah, DID indeed stop after "Protection", didn't it? (Ooh. That explains why the date was made such a big deal for Adrien's story through the parallels to Gabriel's and Emilie's date in the past in "Evolution"; that was the last time Adrien was able to do something like that...)

But poor Adrien of course does not know the true reason for why he's still hesitating to kiss Marinette even now in "Collusion". He must be so relieved that Marinette is reading it as him needing more time with her too to get comfortable enough to kiss. It's so rough watching all these episodes and seeing Adrien beat himself up and think so low of himself when he's literally being abused through mind-control. All I want is for Adrien to finally have his rings on his hand like Félix and Kagami get to. I just want my boy to be free :'(

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

📖🤹‍♂️🔞, pretty pleeeaasee ?

Collared But Untethered - Abner Krill/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, slowburn, slight exhibition (Belle Reve), touch-starved induced desperation, making out, sudden smut, handjobs.

Wordcount: 2970

Summary: Even with every personnel in Belle Reve questioning why you wanted him, you kept coming back for more so long as they kept letting you touch him just out of sight.

Notes: Even when I try to drabble I still can't resist the buildup cause I love him so much oop- This is the first request I've ever gotten/filled so here we gooooo :'D I hope you like it, thank you so much for sending something in 💗💗💗

You were 100% certain that everyone had caught on by now to what you two were doing, but it was hard to care when orange fabric was bunched under your hands and the sound of his poorly quieted voice was in your ear. Belle Reve was well known for its lack of care towards its residents, so at first you’d both assumed that someone would barge in at any second to tear you apart, ban you from ever returning, but you were going on your fifth visit now with no one disturbing you, so even if you weren’t as perceptive as you’d thought and they were watching on a camera you’d missed no one made it known.

You’d first seen him on TV, shakycam footage barely capturing him as he and the other prisoners briefly designated as ‘Heroes’ made quick work of the current bigger threat destroying the city, and the way his powers had lit up the area in a rainbow of colours had instantly drawn you in, made you forget all about the danger as you hid in your apartment and waited in terror for it to be over, trembling hands clasped together in front of your heaving chest as you prayed you’d be safe. He’d destroyed that threat singlehandedly the second he was sure no one else was in his way, the others chiding him in the footage as he’d closed up on himself and apologized, having forgotten their goal of taking the villain alive so he could join them in their home. 

He was so unlike anyone you’d ever seen before, a timebomb of danger wrapped up in a polka-dotted bow, hands fidgeting and head downturned nervously while the destruction of what he could do showed all along the street up to where gory remains decorated the open main road.

As the reporter took over the submitted shakycam with her own live footage, people circled the villains to thank them, albeit keeping their distance even as they reached out to shake hands, pat backs, give gifts that would definitely be confiscated as soon as they returned. No one thanked him for killing their target, everyone too afraid of the gauntlets holding back bright lights and coloured dots, worried that he’d turn them on the crowd next even as the infamous Harley Quinn herself showed off the gun she’d stolen from one of the fallen policemen to a couple kids who’d wandered up to praise her without their parents’ permission.

That wasn’t fair at all, he’d needed some thanks too.

So you’d left your apartment and hurried down to them, the fight just a couple blocks away, the still burning circles in the buildings and pavement growing in number the further you got. They were already starting to get into the armoured vehicle that brought them there by the time you’d arrived, and you didn’t know his name so you could only call past the gathered guards making sure they didn’t run before he disappeared out of sight. He turned to face you, one of his teammates elbowing him to go when it became obvious that you were there for him; he walked back down the lowered ramp to approach, looking apprehensive that you’d want to talk to him when the others were right there, so you’d extended your hand to shake his, prove that you weren’t afraid but rather thankful for his help as you reached as far as you could between the two guards keeping you at a distance for your own safety.

The moment his hand touched your own you knew that you could never let him get away again.

Visitors to Belle Reve were always heavily inspected and supervised, no one ever allowed to meet face to face for fear of what could happen to either party as well as those around them, and they made that explicitly clear to you as you passed their inspections and were ushered down the hallway to the partitioned phones. The moment you told them that you were there for the Polka-Dot Man so they knew who to get they’d hesitated, turned halfway down the hallway to look at you like you were crazy, some weird thing to be studied for wanting to see him of all people. You’d just simply shrugged and told them you wanted to thank him for the other day.

He’d never had a visitor in all his time being there, and the moment he’d seen you holding the phone opposite of his own he’d gone red in the face, a mix of embarrassment for the continued support and obvious confusion as to why you’d sought him out a second time. It was cute, and while the conversation had been short, his voice low and answers coming out in single worded sentences as he thought about what to say, it still brought butterflies to your stomach until your time was up, your final question asking for his name before you were forced to hang up.

‘Abner…’ he’d told you, like he hadn’t said it in a long time. ‘Abner Krill.’

The second time you visited you asked for permission to talk to him face to face, as his voice barely carried over the phone and he had a tendency to forget he was holding it as he talked to the desk. Request denied, but they’d think about it for the right price, it wasn’t like he was going to escape his birdcage when it kept him safe from himself, the shiny collar around his neck stopping the kaleidoscope from painting the walls in cinders. That conversation had come easier, the guards getting bored and pulling out their phones as you talked about everything and nothing at all, his words flowing a little more freely.

The third time you’d gotten your request with the handing over of a few steep bills slid under the table, Abner looking around at the room before seeing you and smiling. There was a little more space between you compared to the phones but the wall was gone, and you almost missed his questions about your life as you watched his mouth speak, hands rubbing and fidgeting on top of cold metal in his persistent nervousness. The moment you’d started talking about yourself the guard watching over you had sighed loudly in annoyance and walked out, leaving the two of you alone to both of your surprise, the camera whirring in the corner telling you that they were still watching from afar at least.

You shook his hand again when time was up, and he trembled a little less as he stood before you, your bodies dangerously close for a quick moment before the guard rushed in to put a little space between you with an utterly confounded look shot in your direction.

The fourth time you looked around to see if there were more cameras than just the one over your shoulder before he was brought in, his eyes instantly brightening in your presence as they’d recently started to do. He looked more alive, his face less sunken like he was taking better care of himself so you wouldn’t worry, and you longed to hold him as the table became a deep crevasse between you. He wasn’t chained to it this time, they didn’t care enough and he knew better, he was well trained by now, and the moment you were left alone again you’d moved your chair to the empty space on the side, a little closer but not touching, testing the waters as you shot a glance to the camera to see if this was okay.

Nothing happened. No one came. Hands rested in sight as they reached but never touched, the crevasse a little smaller as the space between turned from feet to inches, then centimeters.

When your pinkies linked together it was like a bridge formed instantly, the two of you meeting in the middle as he closed his eyes and just breathed, completely calm as his free hand ran over his arm to make sure the gauntlets were gone, make sure he wouldn’t hurt you. He was touch-starved, that much was apparent as long fingers crawled over your own to create more points of contact, Abner fully holding your hand and forgetting that you were supposed to be talking. Your heart raced as you wanted more, wanted to see what other reactions you could pull from him if just this was enough to make him lean towards you, eager to invade your personal space, or perhaps invite you to invade his.

It was a space he guarded dearly, you’d learned as much over your visits as he told you about how the other inmates treated him, your touch so gentle compared to their punches, both of your chairs sliding over the floor as you closed the gap even more. Still no one came, your eyes going to the door to make sure they weren’t watching you through the wire-meshed glass to see what would happen next but the space on the other side was empty, the camera blinking red high above you as your legs made contact, a buzz of electricity shooting up your spine.

He tried to pull away, surprised by his own brazenness, or maybe it’d been an accident since he was so much taller than you, but you refused to let him, your leg pressed into the cold table leg almost painfully as you pulled him right back. The knowledge that you wanted him close, wanted to touch him even though he could burn right through you in an instant without the collar controlling him, made his chest start to heave then, eyes searching your face for fear but finding none.

Your hand unlinked from his before sliding up his arm, feeling the way he shivered as you reached his elbow, his bicep, muscles tensing under loose fabric just out of sight, a sigh leaving his lips as your fingers carefully trailed over his collar up to his cheek. He leaned into you, slowly at first, like you might change your mind and pull away at any second, his eyes closed tight as chair legs scraped over the ground. The gap closed more and more as you stood, leaned in close enough to see the scars of his time in this place, the way his lips parted ever so slightly as he let out shaky breaths, how long his lashes were as they fluttered in anticipation of what you were going to do next.

The door opened before you could make that final leap, the men who rushed in looking just as confused to your actions instead of angry, and while they weren’t rough with you they did tease him all the way down the hallway as he tried to hide the fact that he’d wanted you in those last seconds, your face flushing as pure longing rushed right to your gut at the sight of something hidden behind shaking hands as he was led to the showers to cool off.

The fifth time you’d come in you’d stared down everyone you passed as they whispered and nodded in your direction, not caring as you headed for your visiting room, no one stopping you even as they shook their heads and questioned your life choices. They still let you wait by yourself, your heart pounding as he was brought in and the door was closed behind him, the guard locking it muttering to himself about how he didn’t get paid enough for this. Abner didn’t even get a chance to sit down as you stood up and grabbed onto his shirt, pulled him down to continue what you’d started with a chaste kiss, testing the waters as he let out a surprised noise against your mouth before it turned into a moan, his hands hovering over you as he tried to decide what to do.

‘Touch me,’ you told him as you parted for a breath, the end of the collar pressing into your own throat as he groaned and kissed you back, dry lips parting to let you in as you ran your tongue experimentally over his bottom one. His hands wandered all over you, touching whatever he could now that he knew you wanted him to, his back hitting the wall and the collar scraping against the brick as he arched against you wantonly. It was like the floodgates had been opened, touch-starved desperation making him want more before you were separated again, your body ready to follow his every command should he ask, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good before he was forced to go back to his solitude. 

You palmed him over his pants and he keened needily, hips moving to feel you more before he stopped himself with a choked whine, he was asking too much too soon, surely you couldn’t want him that badly, surely now would be the time you’d come to your senses and see him like everyone else did. You nipped at his bottom lip, got him to look at you before you glanced up at the camera; it was facing the table, the two of you probably just in frame, so you led him to the corner directly underneath it, in its blindspot as you played with the hem of his pants.

‘Do you want this?’ you whispered, voice low so anyone outside wouldn’t hear, Abner’s eyes shut tight again as he nodded his head, slowly at first and then a little quicker as you made contact against his bare stomach. He was breathing so heavily, the growing tent just under where your hand rested making you lick your lips; they were bound to stop you before it got too heated but you could at least give him this, all your fantasies from the past month coming to life as you felt hot skin under your fingertips.

He sighed and let his head fall back, hands gripping you like a vice as you touched him, and you couldn’t help but wonder when the last time anyone else had touched him like this had been, if anyone ever had; it made you a bit jealous to think about the former, of someone else making him look this way before you, so you couldn’t help but selfishly wish you were the first as you wrapped your hand around him. His knees shook, he wasn’t used to it, your name falling from his lips as he started to buck desperately into your hand. 

He was beautiful as his jaw went slack, so open with what he wanted as he held you close, your own pleasure building just from watching him come so easily undone like it was the strongest aphrodisiac. His quiet voice came in handy as he moaned out his desires, how good it felt, how he needed more, pleas to not stop sending shockwaves all the way down to your toes as the words started to cut off the closer he got. You felt your throat tighten as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, needing to taste him again as you swallowed and leaned up to capture him in a deep kiss, his tongue dancing over your own and refusing to let you get away in such a lewd way that it made your head spin.

He didn’t last long between your kisses and your hand attacking him at the same time, his hips jutting with a broken cry of pleasure into your open mouth as he came into your fist, palm gathering as much as you could for his sake. You didn’t realize you were panting as well with how turned on you were as his expression softened into one of pure bliss, a need filling your gut and making you burn with desire unlike anything you’d ever felt before as you wanted more. You pulled your hand free, mouth watering as you felt the sticky substance leak through your fingers, Abner just staring at you through half-lidded eyes as you raised your hand to your mouth, tongue darting out to taste when the door suddenly opened, two guards rushing in.

‘Alright, that’s enough of that,’ one of them said, your fist held by your side as you were pushed out of the way, Abner letting out an actual whine at not being able to return the favour before he was dragged out the door. Once he was out of sight you were led to the nearest bathroom, the guard not fooled at all by your attempted nonchalance and letting you wash up, your hand shaking as you still felt his heat against your wet skin. You wouldn’t do anything about your own situation until you were home, the guard just shaking his head as you rejoined him and followed him to the front doors, the detour allowing you a glimpse of Abner as he walked down a connecting hallway.

Despite the cuffs around his hands and the collar around his neck he looked relaxed, free, not even reacting as one of the inmates passing by tried to insult him, sharp canines biting his lip as he just stared the men down. You grinned, proud of him as you walked out of sight of him again, the highly protected doors leading to the outside world coming into view moments later. You didn’t leave right away, turning to talk over your shoulder as your escort waited impatiently for you to go, a gleam in your eye as you stared into his mask.

‘I’ll be back again next week,’ you promised, everything that came with that unsaid but understood, and he sighed before giving you a shove, everyone around you already whispering about the day’s visit as you just grinned and walked out into the warm Louisiana sun.

[monstersdownthepath]

Milestone Monster: The Oliphaunt of Jandelay

CR 30

Chaotic Neutral Titanic Outsider

Mythic Realms, pg. 58-59 (pic taken from Adventure Path: Rise of the Runelords: Sins of the Saviors, pg. 63)

Only once in all of recorded history has the Oliphaunt of Jandelay trod on soil outside its home plane, called to Golarion by a powerful archmage--one of the Runelords, no less--and used as the mother of all siege animals against his enemies. In its footprints, lakes grew and cities disappeared. Where it passed, mountains moved aside and valleys formed below it, if only to keep its back from scraping the sky. A churning storm of incredible proportions heralded its arrival and marked its departure, the weather itself seeming to fight alongside the Oliphaunt as though the grand storm saw kindred in the apocalyptic beast.

It is a titan in all but name, a monstrosity of such immense size that it appears to be a mountain from a distance. The Spindletorn, over a thousand feet tall, was created by the Runelord who sought to command the Oliphaunt to give him just enough height to look the beast in the eye. This is because the destroyer is utterly immune to all mind-affecting effects unless it can draw line of sight to the creature using them, and most creatures are simply too far beneath its notice for it to even bother separating them from the background. Even then, the caster in question must know how to naturally speak fluent Celestial or the infinitely more bizarre Jandelayan (language-cheating magic such as Tongues does not work!) AND speak loudly enough to be heard over the rumble of its footsteps and the roaring storm that surrounds it, or the Oliphaunt may ignore any attempt to subvert its will.

The feat of calling it into the world has not been replicated since, as the method of stealing the Oliphaunt from its home was lost alongside the Runelord that first performed the deed, who was either executed for his calamitous crime or destroyed by the retribution of Jandelay when it recalled its creator, slave, and guardian. When Runelord Gimmel gained command over the great beast, he thought himself unstoppable, but what he did not know was the great Guardian of Jandelay makes new saves against every effect holding it in a new plane each day, even if the effect doesn’t normally offer a save. Once it succeeds, it is pulled back into Jandelay... and everything and everyone within five miles of the beast is utterly destroyed. Every creature within the sphere is targeted with Mass Hold Monster (DC 30 Will to avoid), and then the entire 5-mile bubble is wracked with a perpetual Earthquake and Storm of Vengeance that rages for 1d12 months, assuring nothing remains but the memories of those who managed to escape.

It caused a terrifying disaster when it was present, and a worse one when it left. The armies of the Runelords could not best the beast, what hope would something as inconsequential as a group of adventurers have to best such a beast?

Quite a bit of hope, actually. In fact, I advise DMs to play with the system a little in regards to how the Oliphaunt operates, especially since the art of it remains relatively inconsistent with its implied scale. The Spindlethorn is over a thousand feet tall, yet all art of the great beast portrays it as maybe a hundred or so feet, much smaller than any of the Kaiju, which it shares much with (including the fact it’s saddled with the Massive rule). The landscape of the land it moved through is supposed to have irrevocably altered, with its footprints forming new lakes, mountains pushed aside or trod over and reduced to rubble, and entire cities wiped out just by it walking through them. It’s of impossible size and world-shaking power, far beyond anything a normal party should be able to handle were it to turn its attention on them... which is why I recommend, among other things, that the Oliphaunt’s statblock represent a small part of the beast; a section of its back or head that the party has made it to in order to break some device or magic that’s been put into place by a third party. The majority of its attacks aren’t purposeful actions, but things like incidental footsteps, swings of its trunk, thrashes of its head, the lashings of the storm that surrounds it and the backlash of the Wards of Jandelay that coat its body seeking to defend it. That last one is especially fun to imagine, as the Wards already grant it numerous defensive abilities, so why not some offense as well?

I also enjoy the potential narrative change of what its 740 HP represents. Reducing that to 0? That’s doesn’t kill it, that drives it back. It’s still the victory condition, but rather than to slay the Oliphaunt, it’s to break whatever is holding it in the plane to send it back to Jandelay without triggering the retributive destruction of the Guardian of Jandelay (and if it’s already in Jandelay and the players are somehow there too, it should be completely unassailable). The preservation of the Oliphaunt’s mystique is what I aim for with this, especially since--as written--the Oliphaunt doesn’t come back if it’s slain, which is a little odd considering what it is and what it represents.

But what does it take for a party to drive back a living apocalypse? A lot of damn effort. It has DR 20/Epic and Regeneration 35 that’s suppressed only by Acid damage from a Mythic source, and that’s just the start! The Wards of Jandelay that protect the beast raise its AC all the way up to 50, and even its touch AC is an impressive 30 despite its size. It’s also shielded by 41 SR, immune to any mind-affecting effect that comes from a creature it cannot draw line of sight to, and any attempt to get in front of it without the use of physical flight or (as Runelord Gimmel tried) climbing up and meeting the beast’s eye is thwarted by the enormous aura that surrounds it: a 500ft bubble radiating off its body in every direction that forces any creature attempting to use any form of teleportation or dimension-hopping (including but not limited to Etherealness, Shadow Walk, and Plane Shift) into, out of, or within the bubble to succeed a DC 41 Will save or the attempt fails. The Oliphaunt even shuts off Gate automatically without allowing a save unless the creator of the effect is either Mythic or an Artifact, so if you want to maneuver around in the bubble with minimal resource use, it’s going to be via actual running/flying.

... I do not actually recommend flying. Not only is this a good way to draw the Oliphaunt’s incredibly dangerous attention, but it’s also surrounded by a Weather Sphere that’s 5 miles in diameter, and inside this sphere it has complete control of the environmental conditions. It doesn’t matter the season or the setting, the Oliphaunt can create blizzards in a summer desert with nothing more than a thought. It can change the weather inside the sphere once per round as a free action, though for obvious reason it tends to stick with destructive storms (which are difficult to fly in, even with magic). Hurricane-force winds, tornadoes, and deadly lightning spring up constantly around it, harmless to the mountainous beast but devastating for everything around it. Once per round as another free action, the Oliphaunt can call down a bolt of lightning to deal 5d10 damage to anything it can see so long as its weather sphere is set to stormy, which is just a little bit more damage on top of what it can already do.

Whatever section of the Oliphaunt the players are standing on takes up an 80ft square, and though the beast has an 80ft reach, it’s also Massive, so no AoOs against a typical party anyway. Getting onto its back or head to attack it should be the plan, as fighting it from below simply shouldn’t be a viable option. Anyone trying should take the Oliphaunt’s 4d10+25 trample damage every round! Each of its other natural attacks deal 4d10+17 damage each, except for its trunk, which deals 4d8+8 damage instead. Via its stats, it has 2 slams, 4 gore attacks with its massive tusks, and a bite attack, but as per my recommendations, re-characterizing these to be lashings of the storm, the rolling and thundering of the Oliphaunt’s body, and the Wards along its form attacking any creature on it are all possible. The Wards being the aggressor especially make sense in regards to the Ruinous Tusks ability, normally allowing its gore attacks to be treated as adamantine and also automatically afflict any creature they strike with Greater Dispel Magic! which, since it can make four such attacks a round, means it shreds through buffs and defensive magic with frustrating ease and swiftness. That’s basically what creatures need at this level to overcome the buffs that high-level people slather on themselves like sunscreen, but that doesn’t change the fact it’s terrifying from the player’s perspective to have their protection AND hitpoints shredded at the same time.

Perhaps one of the few limbs of the Oliphaunt that could reasonably join in on the battle are its massive ears swatting at troublesome players (is two slams), and of course its winding trunk. The trunk deals the least damage of all its attacks, easily characterized by it simply being too big to impact a creature directly, like a gnat slipping through the holes of a fly swatter, but it carries the threat of Grabbing and constricting victims for 4d8+25 damage each round the grapple isn’t broken. Any creature grappled by the trunk (or the beast’s bite attack/imprisoned by the mystic wards) can also be drawn inside the great beast’s mouth(/constricted by the magic) to take 4d10+17 further damage every round. Unlike many creatures with Swallow Whole, cutting one’s way out of the Oliphaunt presents a secondary danger in simply falling hundreds of feet to the ground.

I find it more than a little amusing that the Oliphaunt has spell-likes, though giving up its potential full-attack to use them is silly. It can use Greater Shout at will, presumably because of its trumpeting, to deal 10d6 Sonic damage to everything in a 60ft cone and potentially stunning and deafening victims. It also can use Transmute Rock to Mud 3/day for reasons I can scarcely understand, since a single footstep has roughly the same effect as the spell upon terrain. Maybe if it needs to mire an army, rather than to destroy it? I don’t know. If the storms don’t stop an army from marching against it, I can’t imagine that a little mud will. It’s strange that it has spells with such minor effects, when compared to the destruction it can wreak simply by walking from Point A to Point B.

One of the strangest things about the Oliphaunt to me, though, is that it’s not actually a mindless beast. it has the Intelligence and Wisdom of a normal human, and even possesses enough ranks in a few Knowledge skills to give it superhuman insight into Arcana, Religion, and Planes. It has a curious amount of Diplomacy, enough to be able to sway any entity it deigns to speak to, though there’s never been a mention of it speaking to anyone. It speaks Celestial and Jandelayan, one uncommon and one unheard of, but that it can speak at all is surprising. Who has heard the Oliphaunt’s voice? What does it say, and to whom?

All of these skills aren’t being used to speak with the Watchers, who are always invisible to its senses (and who fear and worship it), their Inconspicuous ability bypassing its Ward Against Command entirely. So who exactly is it speaking to, if anyone? Who is it using its Knowledge to impress and understand? Who is it using Diplomacy to sway and Intimidate to cow, and who is it using Sense Motive to gain insight into, if not the Watchers or the Collected? It’s said the Collected fear it immensely, grow terrified when it approaches their lands, but this is understandable given its size and what it represents. If such a beast approached me, even with gentle intent, I would be a little spooked too. Maybe it’s Jandelay itself it communes with?

For all the lore it has which tells of the destruction it wreaks with its mere existence, for all the talk of it representing destruction and calamity, it did create Jandelay explicitly to preserve worlds that had been destroyed, at least in some fashion. It protects the realm and is protected by it in turn, and only when removed from its museum of lost worlds does it lash out so violently until its creation, its home, its child, calls it back and wracks the world that took it in the with terrible storms and neverending earthquakes. Elephants are gentle creatures by their nature, lashing out only when provoked, and who’s to say the same is not true for the Oliphaunt of Jandelay? The only example of its behavior ever seen on Golarion is when it was stolen from its land and controlled by a madman seeking conquest.

Perhaps it shares more than a little in common with its fellow CR 30 Colossal and unwillingly apocalyptic Leviathan.

You can read more about it here.

[bluegekk0]

Does the rest of the family know that grimm is essentially a killer for hire for lurien?

To add on to that question, how “criminal” are the people that lurien asks grimm to kill? are they actually murderers and genuine shitty people, or a are they just petty thieves that were unfortunate enough to get lurien’s attention or maybe some political opponents that lurien has marked for death?

I think they are aware, yeah. Vyrm most certainly is, and it wouldn't take Hornet long to find out either. So I do think this is something that isn't really kept a secret in the family.

Generally, I think something like this wouldn't be as big of a deal in their society as it would for us - they're noticeably more animal-like than us. Murder is, of course, frowned upon, mainly because it causes chaos within communities. Someone innocent being murdered is a big deal, it means that the community is not safe. In contrast, those who deal punishment for those crimes are seen more as protectors rather than murderers. It's definitely not a flawless mindset, if you start delving into the logic you'd probably find some holes. But it works for them more often than not.

And to the second part, I don't see Lurien sending Grimm after petty criminals. I think he'd only reserve that for those who cause actual serious problems to the city. Leaders of the criminal underground, murderers and those who committed other deplorable actions, and so on. Generally, if there's enough to warrant a "wanted: dead or alive" poster or anything of that sort, this is what Lurien considers a criminal worthy of a "more effective method". Is it a perfect logic? Far from it, there's definitely more nuance to it. But considering the post-infection state of the city, and all the shady types it attracted in its lawless state, he has more important things to worry about. His goal is to protect the city at all costs, and to drag it out of the criminal infested hole it was stuck in for the entire time it took him to gain power (which I imagine was at least a few years, he didn't become the head of the city until about 3-4 years before the current point in the timeline).

Now, would it include political targets? I think it's an interesting idea, perhaps in the future. As of now, there aren't many threats to his position, he's universally seen as a good leader in the districts where he's in power. His biggest worry is the safety in the city, the criminals still hold a lot of power over some districts of the city, and as the city's population rises, the problem remains difficult to solve. Weakening the criminal underground is his best bet for now, and Grimm does it far more effectively and discreetly than his guard.

There is definitely more to this idea that I want to explore so apologies if it's a bit nonsensical at this point. I think exploring the concept of a criminal underground holding power over parts of the city would help with making it more believable, and would explain why Lurien was desperate enough to ask Grimm for help. And on Grimm's side, it would also add another layer to his part of the agreement - aside from getting blood, he can also help make the city safer for his family, if they ever need to visit it.

Since I have more time now, I'll most likely give more attention to this in the worldbuilding section of my AU info page. I'm definitely open to feedback and suggestions about this. For now, I hope the answer was satisfying enough.

[youareunbearable]

By the good grace of Brennan Lee Mulligan I give thee this idea to play with and contemplate

Think of Feanor, if you will. Prideful, Villainous, who burns and rages and consumes and destroys and is as fleeting and lasting as his namesake, lingering like a warmth in the bones of the story after a campfire is dozed.

But just as fire is destructive, its also beneficial, needed in many cases to allow new growth to sprout forth from the ashes of those the Flames had consumed, and in turn sacrificed itself for these new sprouts.

Picture Feanor. Feanor who, in the halls, watches all the events of the First Age and seethes. He sees the so called Gods, the Valar, those who promised his father and that generation peace and prosperity and everlasting life in paradise then did nothing to uphold those promises once they came under question, he watches those very beings do NOTHING for his children, his little sprouts. He sees his eldest tortured for 30 years, only saved by the prayers and blessings of his half-nephew. 30 years Maedhros spent begging, pleading, every moment he spent away from the attentions of Melkor or Sauron in supplication to the Valar in hopes that he may be gifted death. Ignored, tossed aside like trash if it were for Nolofinwe's spawn.

His Second Son, tortured by the weight of the Music, the Song of Creation, in his heart and ears and forced to lament his crimes forevermore. Forever separated from his family, forever an ocean away, forever reminded of his guilt and crimes.

His Third, Fourth, and Fifth sons, deemed nothing more than villains, criminals and boogeymen, tales to be told to scare mortal children into staying in their beds at night. Cold blooded killers, snakes in the grass, greedy and unsympathetic.

His Sixth and Seventh sons? Discarded, forgotten and unremarkable, not memorable to the Valar and those that record their histories. Even though they were loved so dearly by those that knew them. How their loved ones fought and begged and cried and screamed to have them on their side when everything was now dark.

Picture this Feanor, who has seen how his Sons were spurred and left and discarded in favour of his Half Siblings children and descendents, to new shiny playthings in Beleriand. Picture how he would seethe at the injustice, how his kin alone are branded while the others remain sin free to the Valar, to History

Picture then, his response when the Valar offer him a redemption. For Feanor was beloved, once. He was brilliant and shiny and the Valar used to marvel and coo at his inventions and creations. How they coveted the work he put his whole soul and being into.

Imagine then, from behind the bars of his cage in Mandos Halls, how he would spit at these "Gods" and their forgiveness towards the "troubles" he caused. He would burn and loathe and hiss at these creatures that offer him a redemption, after he watched them stand by and watch as his Sons were beaten, killed, and left to rot while they tended to others.

But, we have pictured this Feanor, we know him and what he will do, and what he has seen. We know this Feanor, a narration that has survived long past the End of Middle Earth. His name and his influence reach for and wide, even of they don't know his deeds, or his story. The Feanor we picture, is alive in our minds and hearts, flickering like a little candle flame that just burns hotter with each breath we take as we keep his memory alive

Picture Feanor, immortal, and powerful, and known far better than these "Gods", these Valar. Feanor, with one loyal son still roaming the world, singing of his horrible and wondrous deeds. He would sneer up at these unfathomable beings offering him forgiveness and redemption and snarl:

"To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be Beneath You!"

[muwitch]

The Sun and The Lovers for Mr. Lucius V. Mercar >:3

ah, yesss, thank you for enabling me into my yapper era <3 answering the tarot asks with my stupido guy! It got lengthy actually, I am sorry

The Sun: What is Rook passionate about? How do they fuel that passion?

Oh boy, oh lord. I want to say THE CAUSE™ so bad, but that would be both true and false depending on the timestamp (it’s a trick question). But let’s start from something else instead and I’ll say: magic. Plain and simple.

It’s not a given you’d be passionate about magic when you live in Tevinter, because magic is to serve man, not to rule over it and engraved in everything on a domestic level. And while Luc had complicated relationships with his mentors pre-Circle and in the Circle, magic fascinates him from an early age. Its pure, raw forms, the Fade, unorthodox explorations of energy flows, magical constructs, riddles hidden in scriptures, and the list could go on and on. Is it a form of coping because his mother loved it so much? Maybe. Is he passionate about it like a nerd? Of course.

He has his itty-witty collection of rare finds and artifacts at home. He constructs artifacts and defuses relics for the Shadows, he makes his knowledge and his passion useful and by engaging with new forms of magic he keeps his passion and curiosity going for that long. And yes he likes to be an extra little shit while utilizing his own magic on the battlefield bc why not?

Also Lucius V. “Mercar” is very passionate about learning new stuff, be it knowledge or skill or person, he’s just built like that I guess. That quality doesn’t really need fuel, he finds trouble on his own without any problems. Brain remains moderately stimulated, all is well. And there there’s THE CAUSE™ and I think it’s an acquired passion or better yet one that was nurtured. It’s on and off pre-events of the game especially after Nessum, and before Minrathous falls the first time it isn’t really rekindled, but. It’s there always, despite not stemming from a noble place (or like Ashur’s case some sort of atonement through service more on that some other time), but it’s something he was dedicating a significant portion of his adult life to. He bribed and lied and did other despicable stuff for it. Led a full fledged double life for years. Was more or less set on a revolution happening (and it was not going to be pretty or bloodless or whatever). 

It took him an awful lot of time to arrive to where other in-game presented Shadow Dragons are in game aka servants of ���the people”, and only the immediate effects or results of his actions as sort of gratification are the real fuel that keeps him going, as he is, despite what he says, a very result oriented guy, who has enough long going political games at home to be satisfied with hopes and ideas alone. (Which is a foil to something I shall not discuss in this question, lol, my guy).

The Lovers: Who is your Rook's most significant relationship within the Veilguard? How do they help Rook feel seen and understood?

(laughs in Tevinter) This poor boy can’t form anything significant, I mean all of his relationships - okay not all but most - are of equal importance but serve absolutely different purposes if I dare say so.

One thing to understand about Luc is that since he’s not your average Mercar guy (not derogatory or anything, his bg is just a mess and far from what game offers, it just happened to be so), he has the tendency to have difficulties forming lasting relationships that make him seen and understood. As a matter of fact.

In Veilguard he serves a purpose from the moment it is formed, and the nature of his relationships despite forming is to be the leader and everything he is already used to by being 8 years into Shadow Dragon cause. It’s that he must mostly give, not things being given to him as sort of deep emotional comfort, especially formed that quickly during such horrid events. And early members of Veilguard turn to him for his ability to hold shit together, and they have this awkward back and forth of honesty, trauma dumping and trying to bond with each other at the early stages of Veilguard. Harding grieves, Neve hits closer to home, but has her hands full with both Veilguard and Dock Town, Bellara is on her own wave.

It changes drastically after changing Treviso, and not to drag this thing over too much I’ll say the closest thing to a good relationship Luc has is Davrin?

He is also struggling, but his struggles feel familiar and since he’s out of the whole “what was right choice to save” debacle, he’s impassive to it. He’s a reprieve, he’s actually a friend that copes with struggles of his own too, but is ready to have a man-to-man stupid talks with Luc. He takes him to touch grass. He’s the bro.

In a weird way he reminds Luc of Ashur - a calmer presence to Luc’s - yet there’s no tiptoeing around him. He takes news of Luc’s background with a grain of salt but mostly okay. He offers drinks and chopping wood as pastime activities. He never overburdens. Luc has tremendous faith in his competence and spirit, the way he is loyal to his cause to the point of ultimate sacrifice. He’s the good sort and the good example. He’s another reminder for the poor vint bastard to do better and stop moping around (as if he has time to). And they bond a lot over the course of Davrin’s quest, because Luc would know a thing or two of uncovering your own faction/nation’s dirty secrets and living with that sort of legacy on a day-to-day basis. See? Enrichment.

But there’s also Emmrich I think as second pick, who is there to remind Luc of every daddy issue he has in a way that he’s the mentor figure the latter never had? 

I mean he had mentors, a plenty, but we’re speaking Tevinter. To have someone with a gentler, almost nurturing kind of soul around is sort of soothing. With Varric gone to fill those shoes, Luc’s father presumed dead until further notice after the venatori coup, Emmrich takes over that position naturally and with sort of senior grace. He’s trying to help with different sorts of grief our stupid vint boy is going through which are plenty not even counting Varric problem, and in the cozy silence of the library, between books, fire cracking and talking about magic - it all gives Luc the semblance of normalcy to gain at least some sort of footing during the unfolding of events.

[scapegrace74-blog]

The Man from Black Water, Chapter 15

A/N  Just a short bridging chapter today that sets the stage for the final part of the story.  I think you’ll like it, because both Henry Beauchamp and Angus get a bit of what’s coming to them.

Previous chapters can be found on my AO3 page.

Henry Beauchamp spurred his horse forward, intercepting the derelict cart and its driver just as it was about to leave his property.

“Ah, ye’ve come tae see yer auld friend on his way.  Courteous as always, Henry.”  Murtagh re-arranged his tam over his oily hair and drew the back of his hand across his beard, where some of Mrs. Crook’s fine breakfast pastie still lingered.

“You’ve said enough today,” Henry growled.  “Turning Claire against me.”

“Ye misjudge the lass.  Jes as ye did her mother.”

Invoking Julia’s memory was like pouring lamp oil on the flames of Henry’s anger and he rose up tall in his saddle, hazel eyes flashing.

“Tell me,” he demanded, “once and for all, whose daughter is she?”

To his utter consternation, Murtagh began to guffaw, hitting his empty pant leg like he’d heard a good joke.

“Puir Henry Beauchamp.  All the riches in the world, but no’ a drop of wisdom tae enjoy them by.”

Murtagh slapped the reins against his old nag’s back and the old cart began to creak towards the road.  He waited until the last minute before looking over his shoulder at the now hunched figure of a broken, pathetic man.

“If ye had truly loved Julia, ye wouldna need tae ask.  Of course she’s yours!  But ye dinna deserve her.”

Without another glance behind him, Murtagh and his wagon began the long, arduous journey back up the path to the Highlands.

***

Jamie had hoped to gather his few belongings from the bunkhouse while the other stockhands were out in the fields, but luck was not with him. Angus and Rupert were inside, sharing a metal flask of something potent, despite the early hour.

“If it isna the teuchter,” Angus shouted with glee when he saw Jamie enter.   Word of Jamie’s dismissal had already spread amongst the labourers and Angus was delighted that the uppity young man was finally being cut down to size.

“Did they throw ye out o’ the big house, teuchter?” he goaded. “Bet they found out ye broke in more than that colt while we was away on muster.  Did ye have tae use yer spurs, boy?  Did she give ye a nice first ride?”

Months of indignity, disappointment and curbed temper ripped through Jamie’s restraint like an avalanche, burying any remaining patience he possessed.  The Campbells, Henry Beauchamp, his own parents dying and leaving him all alone in the world: for once, he just wanted to strike back and watch his opponent suffer a fraction of his pain.

Which is exactly what he did, far more quickly than Angus expected. He’d landed two hard right jabs before the smaller man even raised his fists.  Two more blows connected before Rupert’s strong arms grabbed him from behind, effectively pinning down his only weapons.  Angus drew his switchblade, a mad gleam in his flat eyes as he brought it towards Jamie’s throat.

“Angus!”  The deep voice came from the doorway, where Black Jack had returned to the bunkhouse in time to witness the fight.  “Drop the knife,” he commanded, his own blade held casually next to his thigh.

Angus considered his next move, trying to measure whether the sinister Black Jack was really willing to come to the aid of a green Highland whelp.

“I’ve done it before,” Black Jack answered the unspoken question with a snarl.  “And so help me, I’ll do it again.”

With a frustrated grunt, Angus tossed his knife aside and attacked Jamie with his bare fists.  Several blows forced the air out of the large man’s lungs and he twisted in an attempt to break free of Rupert’s surprisingly strong hold.  Pushing back against his captor’s solid bulk, Jamie raised both legs and kicked an onrushing Angus square in the sternum, causing him to fall backwards onto the floor with a cry.   The young Scot then loosed himself from Rupert’s grip, felled him with a solid upper-cut to the jaw, and turned on Angus where he lay groaning on the floor. His opponent raised a hand in mute entreaty.  Jamie considered stepping on the man’s throat but being wanted for murder was not going to improve his situation.  He instead landed one last solid kick to Angus’ ribs, reveling in the satisfying crunch, then stepped over his prone body and out the door.

Jamie needed to leave Netherton before any further calamity could befall him, but he had one last message to deliver.

“A man can be hard tae find in the Highlands,” he said to Black Jack, who still stood on the veranda, calmly carving a chunk of wood.  “Ye’re welcome at my croft anytime.”  The older man acknowledged him with a silent nod.

As Jamie rode Donas across the yard one last time, Claire came out of the manor house and stood on the front steps to watch him go.  Despite the ache he felt in leaving her, Jamie couldn’t help but smile, causing Claire to smile in return.  She lifted her hand in farewell, and he replied with a jaunty salute of his tam before riding swiftly away.

***

It was pitch black when a drunken Angus and Rupert stumbled into the Netherton stables, both looking considerably worse for wear.

“Ye see that colt, Rupe?” Angus slurred as they approached Hamlet’s stall.  “He’s worth a thousand pounds.   Do ye ken how much money that is?  More than we’re ever make working a lifetime for old Beauchamp, thas what.”

Angus grabbed a riding whip from a nearby peg and entered Hamlet’s stall, leaving the door open behind him.  A few sharp cracks and the young horse burst from the stall, cantered down the stone alleyway and out into the stableyard.  By the time the two men emerged from the barn, his black coat could barely be seen glistening in the moonlight as he fled down the lane towards the road.

“That’ll teach him,” Angus jeered.

“Yeah,” Rupert agreed.  “Who?”

“The teuchter, ye numpty.  Beauchamp will think he loosed the colt tae get even fer being let go.”

Satisfied with their final act of retribution, the two men staggered back to the bunkhouse.

Hamlet came to a halt where the lane met the road, looking left and right as though considering the best route to freedom.  A faint scent, friendly and familiar from hours spent being curried and spoken to gently, wafted from the north.  With a toss of his regal head, the colt turned and galloped towards the Highlands.

[sopebubbles]

Hi! I really love reading Lone Wolf but I was a little curious about the pack because it kind of seems like a lot of them don’t really like each other? I don’t want that to come off the wrong way at all btw! I more so mean I don’t really understand why they’re all together as one pack when there seems to be a lot of distrust and animosity between them (Jin thinking Yoongi wants to take his place, Yoongi thinking Namjoon would be happy to see him go, etc.). I know people have been really excited to see more of the interactions between y/n and the boys but I think that’s still so much more to understand about the other dynamics.

Yeah i get what you mean! I think the important thing is to remember that this is a long established relationship for the rest of the pack. Like, why do marriages break down after years? Because people stop communicating clearly, or things happen that cause new or exacerbate old insecurities, or things they used to be able to ignore come to the surface, or they take intimacy for granted when it isnt. But they're also in a committed relationship with people they love even if its not a burning passion like it used to be. They stick around bc thats what commitment means. Sometimes when a relationship gets like that you hold on and hope that its just a passing phase, that the small annoyance will fade. But sometimes instead they build up and cause tension and then you have to decide to live in misery or work it out. I think thats where we see the pack now.

Namjoon and Jin both have significant insecurities about their place in the pack that stem from pride. Jin thinks pack alpha is his by right and Namjoon thinks he belongs at the top right behind Jin because he was the second alpha to be there, but both feel very threatened by Yoongi when he comes along (in a way they arent by tae bc hes babyboy) and deep down they never fully got over that. That tension has always remained and is exacerbated by the possible addition of a new pack member, on top of their issues over the past year.

Yoongi isnt insensitive to all of that. He knows how they must feel, but he's also never pushed dominance over them. He's the kind to just do the things that he thinks need to be done, taking care of the pack etc. even though he's not 'in charge' and as long as he does that he's good. But even after love did develop between them, Namjoon and Jin have always felt insecure about him bc Yoongi gives off that pack alpha energy. Not talking about it for a long time bc they thought they could ignore it is how they got here. I wouldn't go so far as to call it animosity. I think hurt and insecurities are difficult things for alphas to calmly express.

But you raise a good question because at this point, Yoongi and Jimin could walk away. And maybe with the issues you raise, that would be for the best. Is it a relationship worth saving? And if it is are they willing to put in the work?

I feel like i keep getting tugged this way and that by reader response. Which is my fault and why im not a huge fan of posting as I write. Sometimes i focus on their relationships and people say im not giving enough yn. Or i focus on the yn x pack relationships and im not giving enough of the boys. Idk i guess im still looking for the right balance, but i appreciate your feeback. I know its well intentioned and I'll keep it in mind. Sorry.

[kellanved-ammanas]

Big Problem Chapter 2/5 - A Way Out

Pyro didn’t know a lot about mines but one thing he did know was that they weren’t tunnels. While some could certainly have multiple entrances or even cut clean through a mountain or whatever that wasn’t always the case. And thus taking the risk of dragging Medic – potentially with a cut off limb – deeper in the hopes an exit was down there somewhere wasn’t appealing. Even if there was, it might be a multi-hour long walk. Bad all on its own but it would also put them further away from the rest of the team who were probably looking for them by now. Their best bet was getting through the cave-in.

Naturally there the risk that the robots were still out there, waiting for them. How likely was that? … No way to know for sure but probably fairly low. Who in their right mind would wait around after a big explosion caused a cave-in to see if anyone crawled back out however many hours later? Assuming he and Medic hadn’t survived would’ve been a pretty safe conclusion to come to – it was pure luck that they had after all. Also, the rest of the team was still out there somewhere and thus should hopefully be keeping the remaining robots busy. So that was the direction Pyro was going to try to go in.

The question of how was pretty obvious upon taking stock of everything they had available to them; fireand a handful of explosive flares. Each individual flare didn’t make a huge explosion by itself but taking them apart and combing them might be enough to get them out without bringing everything else down around them.

After pacing out the entirety of the cave-in one more time to make sure he wasn’t missing anything important, he returned to sit beside Medic and told him the plan. “I’ll do it on the other side.” Medic was near one of the mine’s side walls, giving a decent amount of room to set off an explosive that shouldn’t be of much risk to him. “And maybe, I could make a smaller explosion to free you.” That would risky but as long as he was careful about where he set it off and how big it was, it should be less risky than chopping off Medic’s entire lower leg.

“Do you have enough to do that and ensure we get out?”

Pyro took a breath to say, ‘yes’ because he wanted that to be the case but well… “I don’t know. It depends on how thick the cave-in is and uh… it might be too thick to get through at all.” In which case their situation would go from bad to worse.

“Then don’t risk it. Put everything you have into getting us out.”

“But…”

“But nothing. This is the only exit we know exists so we should we should do everything we can take it if we can instead of dragging me who even knows how many miles to something that might just be a dead end. We could wait for the rest of the team to come rescue us but they don’t know we’re in here. Why would they think to look for us on the other side of a collapsed mine entrance?”

He was right because of course he was, he was almost always right. In this situation, doing everything they could to get through the cave-in was wise. On the other side were their allies and thus a ride back to base where safety and medical care would be. So… “Okay.”

With no time to waste on further deliberation, Pyro set both lighters – still with their pretty dancing flames but how much longer would the fuel in them last for? – to either side of him. Far enough apart that he would be able to see what he was doing while also mitigating the risk of blowing up the explosive while he was still working on it.

Next, he laid out everything he had. If asked to make an explosive like this in a non-emergency situation he’d have been confident in his ability to do it. But here and now, when it was life and death, he wasn’t so sure. If only he’d pushed Demo to teach him more about this kind of stuff. He’d only really wanted to learn how to make the explosive flares and everything beyond had just been for fun. When he got out of this, he’d go back to ask for more lessons in making explosives, just in case it ever came in handy again. For now though, he only had what he currently knew so, in hopes that it would be enough, he set to work.

He worked in silence, taking all but one of the flares apart to combine them into one big flare that wasn’t really a flare at all. Medic was silent too, uncharacteristic for him when he didn’t have much to do. A worrying sign but likely he was just in a lot of pain; his foot was crushed and his leg was broken so of course he wasn’t in a talkative mood. It would’ve been nice to listen to him ramble about something though, it’d make the atmosphere less heavy. But Pyro focusing solely on what he was doing was probably for the best anyway.

Thankfully, it didn’t take him too long to finish. In fact, it seemed to have been almost too easy. Something so important to get right should’ve been more difficult than that, right? Apparently not though. It wasn’t the most elegant of things and probably not the most effective of explosives either but that was to be expected given the non-ideal environment. Hopefully it would be enough though.

“Done,” he said as he looked back up at Medic. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ve been better.”

It would’ve been nice to offer him some comfort or make the situation better in some other way but… words couldn’t do much here. So instead, Pyro reached out to lightly pat his shoulder before placing the makeshift bomb on the ground for now grabbing one of the lighters. “Call if you need me,” he said as he stood up before heading off to walk along the cave-in wall again. He needed to find a place to plant his makeshift bomb.

Near the top of the rock wall would be best. Luckily, the mine’s ceiling was relatively low and the cave in was stable enough that he could clamber up and along it with relative ease even if doing so while holding the lighter in one hand made it a bit more difficult. Given that and the size of the cave in general, it didn’t take too long to find a suitable location. He was even able to pull out a few loose rocks to make a dent large enough to house it. Sadly, only a few though, as he was quickly met with a boulder that was too big to move without moving everything around it first – sadly, just plain digging out was likely not a viable option.

He left the lighter there to mark it as he slid down to head back to Medic and retrieve the makeshift bomb. Traversing the darkness between it and the little light left beside Medic was more nerve-wracking than he’d thought it’d be but thankfully it wasn’t very far.

“I just realized, I haven’t asked about you,” Medic said as Pyro reached him. “You’re not injured are you?”

“Not really.” Everything still hurt for sure but not so bad it impeded his ability to move. Though maybe that wasn’t saying much because he’d broken ribs before and hadn’t felt it was bad enough to complain about until Medic had asked why he was being a bit tender about hugs and holding things to his chest.

“That’s good at least. Really, we’re lucky to be alive. Let’s hope that luck continues.”

“It will.” Pyro didn’t know that for sure and was worried that wouldn’t be the case but it was better to at least outwardly be optimistic.

Medic’s only response was a tired sounding hum of acknowledgment.

Pyro bent down to gather up the makeshift bomb and the flare gun, the one remaining explosive flare already loaded into it. He was tempted to light a match during his trip back over to his designated bomb spot but refrained, going as fast as he dared instead. Which wasn’t very fast but relative to the distance, it got him there quick enough.

Once there, he climbed back up the wall, and pushed the bomb into the little hole he’d made, shoving it as far in as it could go. Next he moved the lighter down, just a little bit to continue to mark it without risking setting it off early. He’d have loved to leave a match and save the lighter from destruction but it wouldn’t have burned long enough to be useful. Even if he had plenty of spare lighters back at base, it still hurt to let one go but it had to be done.

He slid back down the wall. At the bottom he pulled out his box of matches. He struck one before starting to fast walk away. Its light was oh so pretty, if only he could light the whole box on fire. That would certainly produce a nice flame. But… no, he couldn’t. When they got back to base and after he’d made sure Medic would be okay he would light a big fire in the fireplace Medic had had installed in his room just for Pyro. Until then he had to be frugal and careful just in case.

As the flame burnt out, the match spent, Pyro stopped and turned back towards the wall. That should be far enough. He dropped the match and pulled out three more. After striking them all once, he placed their ends between his teeth. The acrid stench of smoke burned his nostrils, comforting in its familiarity even if the gas mask had been keeping him from the worst of it for a while now.

Putting the box away, he pulled out the flare gun, aiming at where the lighter marked the bomb to be. He’d thought about trying to make a fuse with a strip of cloth from Medic’s lab coat and whatever remaining fuel he could get from the flamethrower’s tank but that could get finicky and dangerous rather quickly. The unpredictably of such a ‘fuse’ wasn’t something he fancied messing with. Besides, this way was less trouble and quicker.

Of course, there was the downside of having only one shot at it and if he missed, that was that much more explosive power that could’ve gone into freeing them but didn’t. He wouldn’t miss though, he was too good to miss a stationary target even if his marker for it wasn’t on it exactly. Because of that though, he did spend a bit more time lining the shot up, the matches in his mouth giving him just enough light to do so. They were rapidly burning out though so… he pulled the trigger.

The flare was bright enough to hurt his eyes. He didn’t have time to do more than blink though as it apparently found its target, exploding with a pop that immediately became a loud blast. Turns out, the gas mask had been doing a decent job of muffling explosions because that was louder than Pyro was used to. Enough to be a surprise, making him flinch.

He spat out the now spent matches before looking back up, only to flinch away again. The light now didn’t just hurt his eyes, it burned. How was sunlight so bright?

But that meant his bomb had worked! They were free! … Almost anyway. Medic’s foot was still trapped under the rockfall. But they were almost free and that was worth celebrating by itself.

“We did it!” he said, still not yet able directly at the light.

“Yes,” Medic said, relief audible in his voice. “Very good job, Pyro. Now go make sure the hole is big enough for us to fit through.” A good idea! Most of Medic’s ideas were good.

Pyro waited a few more moments for his eyes to adjust further before rushing over. The hole was bigger than he’d thought it be but not as big as he would’ve liked. The fresh air on his face as he climbed up to it felt good enough that he would refrain from putting his mask back on for a little while longer even if he was even more exposed now.

He cleared it out a little more, pushing aside a few more rocks. Making it big enough for him to be able to fit through even if it would be a bit of a tight squeeze. But if he could fit than so could Medic. Though, getting him to it when he couldn’t use his legs was going to be a challenge. One for a bit later though as first, Pyro pulled himself partially out so he could look around the mine’s surrounding.

Outside was more of the abandoned mining town they’d been chased through, a pretty big one as far as abandoned mining towns went. The sun was starting to dip towards the horizon though sunset would still be a couple hours away. There were remains of the small robot army that had chased them scattered across the ground, though many more were likely under the cave-in. No ‘living’ robots though, thankfully.

Which didn’t mean they weren’t any. Especially with how close their stronghold was. It’s why the team had come here after all, hoping to take it out. Things hadn’t been looking good on that front thus likely, without him and Medic, it hadn’t happened. And thus, there were probably still robots nearby.

If any came across the cave-in and saw the hole in it would they be able to know to investigate? Maybe not but if they did and found Medic… that would be bad. If Pyro had some way to hide the entrance while he ran to get help it might be okay though. He could clog the opening with loose rubble maybe.

Pyro wriggled backwards and back inside. He then slid down and skipped back over to Medic. “Coast is clear for now and the hole is big enough to fit through,” he said as he bent down to retrieve his lighter, flipping it closed and dousing its little light before putting it back in his pocket.

“Good, good. Here’s what we’re going to do then; we need a tourniquet so you’re going to...”

“Wait,” Pyro interrupted. “The others might be nearby. They should be looking for us, right? I could run and get them. I’ll be super fast, promise, faster than Scout.. or maybe not but almost.” Running was hard with how heavy and constricting the suit was and he wasn’t a great runner in general but he could force it for Medic. “And then we could… dig you out maybe.” Demo could surely make some explosives perfectly sized to clear out most of the rubble, allowing the eight of them to dig Medic the rest of the way out. No limb severing necessary.

Medic grimaced. “If they find me like this while you’re gone, I can’t defend myself.”

“I know but they might not. They’re robots so they’re not very smart. And I’ll find a way to hide the opening just in case so we don’t have to...”

“Do not leave me alone here.”

Pyro flinched at the anger in Medic’s tone, turning his words into an almost growl. He understood it though. Anger was a good blanket for fear. He would’ve been afraid of the thought of being left alone and defenseless like that too especially so close to an enemy stronghold. And well, there was no guarantee that hiding the opening would work.

He took a deep breath before settling down on the ground next to Medic. “Okay.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Medic trailed off.

“It’s okay. I understand.” He still didn’t like it but the idea of leaving Medic alone and defenseless was also really bad. And if Medic preferred to take the risk of chopping off the limb over the risks involved in being left here alone while Pyro ran to get help, that was his decision to make.

Pyro pulled off his gloves so he could take take Medic’s hand in both of his. “Tell me what you want me to do.” He had some medical knowledge but a refresher on what all exactly would be the best way to go about this was welcome.

[gnosk]

I hope it's alright that I add my two cents, as someone who used to work in agriculture and food education. Hell's post is a really good, well-articulated response to the original asker's question; here I'm largely elaborating on stuff regarding the innate ethics and environmental impact of the agriculture industry (specifically in regards to livestock) and ways it can be improved that aren't going vegan.

(Just for transparency - I'm writing this from the perspective of farming in the US and when I'm talking about "the agriculture industry" I am talking about the agriculture industry in the US. I'm sure there's crossover/parallels with other countries, but I don't know enough to talk about them.)

It is absolutely true that the capital-M capital-I Meat Industry is godawful, for a multitude of reasons. It's bad for the animals, it's bad for the land, it's bad for the environment — if you've read this far I'm sure you already know the gory details. But the reasons that the Meat Industry is bad don't stem from some fundamental problem with raising animals for meat — they stem from gross incentives that capitalism puts in place. The system rewards profit at the expense of all other factors, so the meat industry has optimized to make a very high volume of very cheap meat very quickly. Factors like environmental impact and the quality of life of the animals simply aren't considerations for large-scale meat businesses, which is where issues arise.

However, it isn't mandatory to raise animals this way. We can do better, and we do do better, even if not at the same scale. Like Hell said, pretty much every animal we raise for agricultural purposes has been domesticated for thousands of years, to the extent that they are totally reliant on humans. If we adequately care for the animals, they live perfectly happy & healthy lives, much more so than they would if we just released them into the wild (not to mention that any animals that didn't die immediately would rapidly become invasive and cause a whole host of other problems). This doesn't happen in the greater meat industry because properly caring for animals is expensive, and at least right now, the demand for cheap meat is much higher than the demand for ethical meat.

That's not to say the demand isn't shifting — it's much easier to find cruelty free meat nowadays than it used to be — but it's shifting slowly. Because it's more expensive, most people are not able to afford to eat good, cruelty-free meat every day. I can say that I at least am willing to eat less meat if it means I'm eating meat I know is from a source that actually treats its animals as, well, animals rather than as product.

Another thing that gets people about meat is that people tend to be very squeamish about death. Even if you know an animal lived a good life, it can be a bit harrowing to know that it was killed specifically so that you could eat it. I don't necessarily want to make any blanket statements about morality here, because I know this often ties into deeply personal and even religious beliefs, but I can at least give my perspective and you can decide if you agree with it. Every animal — every living thing — is bound to die eventually, and as long as care was taken to ensure an animal was happy and healthy while it was alive, slaughtered humanely, and then its remains used with minimal waste... I don't see anything wrong with that. You could even argue it's more ethical than waiting for it to die of "natural" causes, which would be much more likely to lead to a death with suffering (e.g. sickness or being killed by a predator) and leave little to no usable remains.

Most animal products don't require the animal to literally die, though, and domesticated animals produce an overabundance of whatever it was they were bred to produce (again, as Hell discussed above), so assuming the animal is otherwise being raised humanely, zero harm comes to, say, a cow when it is being milked.

The other really major issue with our current system for large-scale animal farming is the environmental impacts — but, like with animal welfare, these impacts are a symptom of capitalist incentives, not an inherent flaw with raising animals.

Our current large-scale farming techniques are super carbon postive, meaning they put out waaaay more carbon out into the surrounding environment than they take back in — in both crops and livestock, but livestock especially. I usually see it assumed as a given that farming livestock is somehow innately carbon positive. But the thing is — it's not! Or at least, it doesn't have to be. Large-scale livestock production ends up being carbon positive because there's no mechanism to fix that carbon back into the environment, which doesn't happen in normal, balanced ecosystems... So, what if we could run a farm more like an ecosystem?

That's where regenerative agriculture comes in. The general idea of regenerative ag is to merge conservation with agriculture by farming in ways that are not just carbon-neutral, but carbon negative, typically by using techniques that mimic processses in natural ecosystems. Regenerative ag aims to reverse the adverse effects humans have on the environment, and animals are crucial for this. Animals are very good at taking carbon stored in unwanted things (e.g. weeds) and recycling it into more useful nutrients (i.e. manure). In a regenerative ag system, instead of just being released into the environment, this carbon goes back into the soil, fixing it for the next round of crops. Good crop management can then take even more carbon out of the atmosphere and sequester it back into the soil. I'm simplifying somewhat, but I hope I've made my point clear — soon, you've regenerated your topsoil, and healthier topsoil means more resilient crops, healthier crops make for healthier animals, and so on, and so forth.

Also, because you're probably wondering: yeah, indigenous wisdom is often a big part of regenerative ag! The people who have been stewards of the local land for thousands of years generally have a good understanding of how to manage that land effectively.

Also, to be clear, regenerative agriculture isn't just One Single Thing. It's more a combination of techniques with a guiding philosophy. What exactly effective regenerative ag is is going to vary wildly based on place and needs; for instance, the climate where I live is quite arid, so many of the techniques used on the farm I worked at focused on conserving water. Other places are going to have different issues and different needs. It's not a one-size-fits-all bandaid solution; regenerative practices need to be tailored very specifically, and don't scale well, which makes the entire process cost a lot more money than just monocropping and factory farming. Food produced this way is going to be more expensive as a result, which makes it unavailable to a lot of people.

There is definitely an element of class that comes into being able to make significant choices about your food. If you're below the poverty line, you probably can't afford to go vegan, muchtheless buy the expensive, cruelty-free regenerative ag milk. (Maybe vegan options have changed and are cheaper now than they used to be? But my impression is that it's nearly as expensive to be 100% vegan and still getting the right amount of calories/nutrients as it is to buy 100% local/organic/etc.). Frankly, I find it kind of screwed up that milk that's been trucked in from a factory farm on the opposite side of the country can be cheaper than the stuff from 10 miles up the road, but here we are.

I haven't even gotten into, like, worker's rights or transportation/shipping concerns or selective breeding... but I have the sense I've written enough of an essay on this for now.

But anyway, at the end of the day... we all need to eat. It's practically impossible to ensure that everything you consume is 100% Free Of Sin, not to mention incredibly expensive. Individual food senstivities and other dietary restrictions end up shaping a lot, too. Do what you can, but don't worry too much about the things you can't.

Oh, and if you have a chance to visit a farm and pet a sheep, do it. It's good for the soul.

Hi Hell, I wanted to get your thoughts on something. My friend who has been vegetarian for close to 30 years is thinking about becoming vegan. His main reason is that the pain and suffering of an animal in the large majority of the animal product industry is not worth the enjoyment he gets from cheese, milk, etc. He hypothesizes that most people are not vegan due to lack of education about the industry’s methods, and because eating meat is so normalized. I mostly agree, but something about what he’s saying makes me feel bad. Maybe because I don’t see myself ever becoming vegan, due to how much I love certain foods, but I like to think of myself as an empathetic and moral person. So I think I just feel quite selfish.

He is a very analytical and logical thinker, and says he wants to find more anti-vegan arguments before deciding for sure, but can’t seem to find many. What do you (and your followers) think? I was thinking you aren’t vegan, but I don’t actually know.

This is very much not my lane, but if you want my two cents then for me it comes down to a few things.

One: there is a basic mass of food that any human needs to consume in order to stay alive. That can be plants, it can be animals, it can be animal byproducts. For the a significant proportion of commercially produced food, there is a negative impact. It's hard to quantify; in some cases it is certainly direct, quality of life issues for animals. In other cases it's more broad environmental impact from commercial farming, or quality of life for the human laborers involved in harvesting etc. It's hard to come up with any objective measurement for harm when comparing individual animal suffering vs human quality of life vs large scale environmental issues. There's plenty of information out there on some of the vegan diet staples and how increases in farming things like quinoa have enormously detrimental effects on their native communities, if that's something your friend is not already aware.

Two: There is a degree of this that is just...unavoidable. Things eating other things is the way living creatures survive, and on a systematic level there's not a ton we individually can do to change things--and on a practical level, there's only so much you can afford to spend on food, and organic, cruelty free stuff is more expensive. There is a level of privilege in being able to choose to spend your money in that way that is not always an option for everyone.

I'm not vegan. I'm not vegetarian. I care deeply about animals, and I'm aware of what commercial husbandry looks like--it's pretty terrible. I still eat meat. I try to do so as ethically as I reasonably can.

I don't have an issue with eating other animals. It's a part of nature. To me, I see the obligation more to do our best to try to get meat (or byproducts) that have been raised as well as we can manage. Free range eggs are pretty easy to come by, if you live in the country. Same with locally made cheeses and butters, even farm fresh milk--some places have self-serve milking that allows cows to roam in pastures and then be milked at will. Price and availability will vary by where you are, but it's more and more common; as more and more people start to care about how the people and animals involved in making our food are treated, better options become more available.

It also should be noted that the animals involved in farming are almost universally completely domesticated. There's no alternative for these animals and their progeny except for life in human care. These breeds require human aid for their own health and safety, because we have been breeding them for (in many cases) thousands of years to rely on us and to develop traits that will not aid them in the wild. If everyone decided, tomorrow, to become vegan, then these animals would need to remain in human care for however many thousands of generations it would take to breed them back to the ability to survive without us, or we would have to sterilize them en mass and terminate these breeds through lack of reproduction. It is not an option to just release these farm animals into the wild. Domesticated animals require human care. Some of them, like pigeons, have gone feral when we abandoned them, but they are not like their wild cousins, and it shows.

Because of the selective breeding involved in domestion, most of these animals are producing byproducts--eggs, milk, honey, wool, etc--in quantities that they do not need. While some species have been bred to do that to their own detriment, most heritage breeds are fully capable of producing more than they need of these things, and there can be true symbiosis between these animals and their human caretakers. Some of these things they need to have removed for their own health. It's an ancient bargain--we keep them safe, and warm, and healthy, and protected, and they give us that which they have in abundance. The problem isn't the animal product, it's how it's produced commercially.

So yeah--veganism is one option, but it is, in my opinion, a narrow scope at an issue that is far more nuanced. I think it's equally ethical to aim for a diet that focuses on local, ethical farming practices--for growing crops, for caring for meat animals, for beekeeping, for chickens and sheep and whatever else we need. We've spent longer than any of us will live making these animals part of our world--discarding them and what they can give us is not going to benefit them. We just have to learn how to treat them respectfully.