#i still have to figure out the other characters LOL

[quicksilversnails]

It's so fun how the Princess and the Dragon acknowledges and plays with game mechanics that are assumed to be non-diegetic, and uses them to add insight to the story/characters.

The title card is a really obvious example, being something that TLQ actually sees and can comment on, and something that the Princess hadn't ever seen. What most would assume is just a framing device for the player is a real element of the world/construct.

I think it emphasizes how the story that the Narrator constructed is only "meant" to be told to TLQ. After all, The Narrator only appears in TLQ's mind, providing elaborate descriptions and attempting to contextualize the events of the game as a heroic task to save the world. Meanwhile the Princess is all alone, with no title cards or exposition, no context for why any of this is happening to her. The story revolves around her, but it doesn't care about her beyond her designated role, as something to be slain and hated. Her perspective is irrelevant to the Narrator's plan, so she doesn't get the fancy presentation or necessary context: she doesn't deserve it.

There's also those long stretches of dialogue where the voices talk to each other in TLQ's mind without progressing the story. They're occasionally acknowledged by the Princess elsewhere (Prisoner, Nightmare) but P&tD makes it very explicit and confirms that time is actively passing during these conversations, with TLQ staring in silence for who knows how long.

(Personally I don't think all of the voice dialogue is necessarily in real time, if only because some Princesses wouldn't have had the patience for it. Like if you had really stood still for that long, the Beast would've definitely eaten you... she's not waiting for you to finish thinking lol)

This one I think is more for humour, but it also draws attention to how much of the inner conversation the Princess is missing in normal chapters, when the voices aren't actively speaking to her through TLQ's body. Where we're having vibrant debates or key information revealed by the Narrator, she just sees a silent, staring figure. Speaking of the Narrator, He's completely absent from the Princess' POV, either because He doesn't want to speak to her or is somehow unable to (He does say in Tower that she's not supposed to be able to interact with Him...) Again, the story was not made to be told to her, so she isn't given His context, and because the player is usually so immersed in TLQ's perspective, they probably wouldn't realize just how much she's missing until they see things from her perspective.

One other example: if you choose to [Say nothing] immediately after you excise yourself, the Princess reacts to it:

I just find this so hilarious tbh, and the fact that she repeats back those exact words implies that she literally senses the text written in brackets. If you do it once you're back in the basement, she says this:

I wonder if it's the same for the Narrator/voices... do they also “feel” your actions while you’re choosing them? Do they hear you say (Lie) before you lie? When Skeptic said "Wink" out loud did he actually choose a dialogue option with [Wink] in brackets?? Ok that last one's a joke but there's lots of potential here

I just think it's cool because the average player wouldn't think twice about any of these things, because they seem like simple stylistic/game design choices. In a game where all player input is through dialogue options, the square brackets are an immediately understandable way to convey action, as opposed to plain text. In a game structured around repeating loops, it makes sense to make those loops distinguishable for players by separating each loop with a title card, and the chapter naming convention works as a nod to the fairytale storybook aesthetics the game draws from.

But by placing you into the Princess's head and acknowledging those design choices as diegetic elements that change depending on your perspective, it forces you to reevaluate your experiences: the things you didn't think were really "part of the game" and the experiences you didn't realize weren't universal. It exposes your hidden privileges, the luxuries and structural supports you have compared to the Princess that you don't even notice because you've never experienced the alternative.

It might make you realize how the way you perceive and conceptualize the world might be very different from how others conceptualize it (Tony's recent ask about the multicoloured glass in HEA could also play into this in a fascinating way, with the mismatch in perception between TLQ and the Narrator's script). It's all just very cool for a game that's based on perception.

It also makes me wonder... what other elements of this game are diegetic that we just haven't paid attention to?

Well, I think that the captions are probably also diegetic. TLQ occasionally refers to the voices by their complete titles despite them not ever referring to each other by those titles, instead opting for descriptors like "jumpy one" or "the worst one" or "rage boy" or "chilly little freak" lol. For a direct comparison, Paranoid exclusively calls Smitten "the lovesick one" or some variant in HEA, but TLQ refers to him by his full name using quotation marks, as if he's quoting something he's read:

The voices don't seem aware that these titles exist, while TLQ does, despite them sharing a mind. Also, when the Princess shares a body/mind with you, she never uses their titles either. In the Spectre/Princess and the Dragon, she calls Hero "the nice one", Cold "the quiet one" or "cold little freak", and the Narrator "the bossy one" or "that murder-happy know-it-all". Spectre describes the voices as shards of broken glass on the floor, so she likely perceives them completely differently to how we/TLQ see them.

Even The Narrator isn't aware of His title. If you call Him that in the mirror conversation, He says "'The Narrator'. I suppose that's my job, isn't it?", reacting to the title as if it's His first time hearing about it. There's also this question from the fourth Shifty encounter:

It seems like the titles are presented specifically for The Long Quiet/decider, and that they somehow reflect how TLQ perceives the voices/Narrator, since TLQ takes credit for "calling him" that. If the captions were specifically shown to TLQ in the same way that the title cards are, it'd explain how he has this information without it ever being verbally told to him, and why the Princess doesn't know their titles even when she's sharing your body.

But besides the captions, I think it could be fun to interpret the game as if most, if not all of its game mechanics exist in-universe. The choice menu, the music, the cursors, the save/load icons, saving/loading in general, the title screen, the Clown Princess living in the walls (game files), you name it. Let’s peel away these game mechanics cell by cell! Let's see what meaning we can find together, let's see what we're made of!

[stxrsys]

Hii we’ll try to answer these :) Good distraction for this evening.

Incoming wall of text . . .

Around 14 give or take, the system is rather fluid and still in the process of figuring itself out.

As a system, it/they. As passing as a singlet, or general for one fronting, she/he. For general usage you can just use they if you don't know.

Astriiolite collective - our headspace (or mind palace pre-syscovery) we called Astriiolite, portmanteau of astro (stars) and iolite (purple-blue stone).

Now that we think about it, not really. We don't really do much lol and when we do it's hobbies specific to each person. I suppose singing, we sometimes try to do a pseudo-karaoke night with everyone who wants to participate.

Mixed. Broadly speaking the music taste ranges from source media OSTs & musicals, piano & violin instrumentals, nu-metal & alt rock, vocaloid & jpop, and phonk & hot-girl-walk pop.

Mmm probably late-teens early 20s if we averaged it out? Youngest is one of the littles ~8-9, and oldest is ⌚ ~mid-30s. There's also a few who aren't exactly age-constricted.

Our singletsona so to say is called the same thing as our birth name, and is essentially a mix of the best traits of our primary host (☕) and the two best socializers (🪐&🦇).

We're sort of trying to figure those out. We have some sense of who is good at protecting, caretaking, and who is good at socializing, and who holds symptoms and who holds memories/triggers.

Pssh yeah we only Really acknowledged our system for the first time in late December 2024, but we've fallen juust short of figuring it out so many times over the last 2 years.

Ok this is awkward um. We created OCs in character ai to talk to and suddenly switched to 🐾 fronting one day. If it hadn't panicked and wrote that they didn't know who they were and what was going on, we would've probably forgotten it happening again and not figured it out for a while longer.

We're monoconscious and it tends to feel something like this comic from oursystemblog. Kind of a mix of the different types they describe, mostly the last one.

Mixed. Mostly involuntary, we're still getting the hang of it. We are highly cooperative though usually so it's not forceful. It can range from blurriness for most of the day, to rapid switches every 10-30 minutes when under stress.

Being loved and protected and supported by people who're always with us, I guess? We're all quite close and can accommodate or help one another in ways no one else can.

Having meltdowns/floaty dissociation/terrible memory, and feeling separate and strange and never able to be normal amongst others.

Most of us share a number of features with the body, but we have a number of non-humans and sysmates of completely different features in the body - such as gender/sex, height, hair color, skin color, physical anatomy in some ways.

Multiple fictives, upon reflection. Two are more close to source appearance and personality-wise (🥤&🌩️), the other three are quite deviant but retain qualities and connection to source (☕,🎻,⌚). Also we're not sure how to classify her but 🦇 is based on a persona we created years ago.

Small preference differences, also comfort foods more specific to one or the other. Examples; 🪐 likes chocolate more than any of us, 🥤 is comforted by instant oatmeal or simple freezer meals, most of us don't eat meat often but 🐾 will take any chance to tear into jerky or other meat snacks.

A few, though we can never tell if they do it ironically or automatically. ☕ has a slight non-region-specific British accent, 🎱&🥤 speak lower than others, and the socializers/🌸 (newer fragment) are better at speaking 普通话 than the others.

Semi-functional found family.

Most of us, lol. Top hits include: aroace & agender, bisexual, sapphic ace, gay, and genderqueer. We usually just say we're queer and go with it.

Yeaup, our two best friends. Depending on who's fronting we pull back and forth on telling them about us vs denying anything we've ever said. We're working on it.

I share most of them on this blog as I go through my day, but one that comes to mind was Indigo appearing, flirting viciously with 🎱, and then disappearing never to be heard from again. That was a thing.

No one else's experiences will match yours entirely. You do not need to fit a specific defined criteria/list to be considered plural. You are real regardless of what you are told or are made to think.

Lots, really. Mainly that we are not so completely different and we are deserving of the same decency, respect, and support as any other singlet in the world.

Plural Ask Game

We figured we’d try making an ask game! This is for anyone who’s a system–regardless of origin–to use. Remember that you’re not obligated to answer any of these if any are too personal!

How many members are in your system, and does this number change frequently?

What are your collective pronouns, if you have any?

What’s your system name if you have one, and how did you choose it?

Are there any activities your system members like to do together? Collective hobbies? Talk about those!

What sort of music do people in your system like?

What’s the average age of your systemmates?

If you have a singletsona, what is it? Explain a bit about them!

Does anyone in your system have roles? If so, what roles?

How long have you been a system and/or known of your system?

How did you discover your system? What was the process?

What does switching feel like to you, if you switch at all? 

Are your switches voluntary, involuntary or a mix? How often do you do it, if at all?

What’s your favourite part of being a system?

What’s your least favourite part of being a system, if you’re comfortable sharing?

Are your headmates generally different from the physical body? How do they differ from it?

Do you have any fictives/factives/etc? Tell us a little about them!

Does your system have a headspace? Are there multiple of them? What are they like?

Are there differences between systemmates surrounding sensory things? (For example, one person likes the taste of one food and another doesn’t.)

Does anyone have any different accents, or speak any different languages?

How would you describe your system in 3 words or less?

Do you have any LGBT+ headmates? What do they identify as?

Does anyone outside of the internet know you’re a system?

Do you have any cool/funny stories from inside the headspace that you’d like to share?

What’s some advice you’d give to yourself when you were first discovering your system?

What is something you wish singlets knew about plurality?

[energ00n]

Okay so I scrolled through all the asks so I’m hoping on hope this isn’t a repeat question, but I was wondering about Elita’s feelings about D calling Orion insignificant. Like, is this the kind of defensive response she’s used to from D? Has she picked up on the fact Orion overheard based on his behavior? If so, would she confront D about it or want him to figure it out and apologize on his own?

Sorry if that’s a lot, I just saw so many focused on her in the beginning of the interaction and I got curious about how she felt at the end of it. Your interpretations of these characters are fascinating (and deadly accurate to the movie, but that’s a whole other thing shdjsheuh). I know we’re onto Jazz and Orion but there’s still so much to think about and it’s wonderful.

PS; Thank you for sharing this AU with us! It can’t be easy having people misinterpret stuff or ignore answers already given. But you keep sharing it anyways and I really appreciate that! It’s a joy seeing your beautiful art come up on my dash :)

Elita is aware of many of D’s behaviors, hence “I didn’t need to bring that up, sorry”, she knew he was going to react strongly at that. She’s not aware that Orion knew and honestly she doesn’t know him, she couldn’t/wouldn’t do anything with Orion directly; she’ll say a thing or two then mostly leave D to his own devices

D and Elita have a friendship where they don’t really talk or pry about each other’s feelings, they’ll physically be there for each other and give space when asked.

Now that I think about it, Megatronous is somewhat like that too. D’s circle loves like an Asian household lol

[wintergrofyuri]

@itsonlypolite

@wrathful-banette

TEEHEE OK

so. i forgot to say. skeptic IS a detective. a pi. a gumshoe. a dick, if you will. but i guess thats sort of implied already. i just wanted to state it clearly.

but anyways.

this whole thing was made bc im so fucking insane about the cage chapter. the themes about being a slave to fate and how our actions are not our own and losing control of yourself and your life. just. ugh. it speaks to me a lot. and ofc skeptic being an old timey detective is so universal. i joke about hating him but i Do like him and find him interesting. i want to put him in situations.

and thats what this whole au is. putting skeptic in situations. hearing new perspectives, having his theories proven wrong, dealing with uncooperative suspects, red herrings. i love when hes wrong or ignored or otherwise slighted. he seems very. sure of himself? not an arrogant fool, but more. a guy who hasnt been wrong before. ykno. and i think ur typical film noir (with slay the princess elements like cycles and fate) is just a really natural fit to explore all that.

but its Also about playing with the whole "perception based creature" thing that the princess has going on. i Love "character nobody really knows" and the princess, with her multiple forms and fluid personality, works Rlly rlly well with this concept. i love the princess and i think she deserves to be a mysterious "haunting the narrative" type character. shes like a spy with multiple disguises. or someone in witness protection.

and also bartender hero lives in my mind like a parasite. oh my god that reminds me i need to talk about the others ok.

hero is the bartender (as stated before) of "the long quiet" bc i think its funny theyre still in tlq even in this silly film noir au.

stubborn is the bouncer/bodyguard/whatever the fuck you call it. he kicks ppl out when they get too rowdy.

cheated is The regular there. he either sits at a table and mopes or gets roped into a card game with opportunist that results in both of them being kicked out (theres always blood drawn).

opportunist is a conman/snake oil salesman whos only still allowed bc hero is too nice and opp is too good at buttering ppl up.

smitten is a tortured artist, lamenting to anyone who will listen about his lost love and muse. he is never paying his damn tab, but again, hero is too nice.

cold is a mysterious figure who only visits the bar like. once a month. he barely talks to anyone and only drinks water. (hes an assassin LOL)

broken is the local priest (the god is shifty btw) who only visits bc hero told him to get out more. he doesnt drink either. he just looks vaguely haunted.

contrarian is a guy whos hard to pin down. you cant find him, you just have to pray he appears ykno. the only people who Know him are hero and cold, but hero refuses to divulge anything abt him and cold is just. Cold. ykno.

paranoid is skeptic's partner (lol) and secretary. he does half the work around the office (maybe more) and lives with skeptic. he complains and protests and threatens to quit, but its all bark. hes very loyal. to his own frustration.

now im going to be honest. hunted is Super difficult to put in this au. given his role as a fight or flight, base animal instinct type, he cant be fit into an au like this very easily. ive considered a hunter, but that doesnt fit him at all. so. im a hack and i should delete my tumblr.

but no seriously hunted is very difficult. ALSO. THE NARRATOR. ive been thinking if i should add him and how prevelant he should be and what he would be like. if he should be in the bar or if skeptic would need to meet him somewhere else. maybe hes the villain ykno. but im. not sure and i dont wanna make the whole thing Too big ykno. i swear its not just bc i dont like him (joke (hes fun to hate (but also i hate him), i genuinely am stuck on what to do with him.

anyways. thats pretty much it. i dont wanna derail this post with. yaoi ramblings. so ill keep it close to my chest. also b4 u ask, im. not going to make this a fic or anything. i dont have the energy for something like this and im not very. good at writing longform anyway. i much prefer tiny drabbles. and anyways, its kinda. rlly unfinished cuz ive been too busy thinking too hard about minor details.

listen to 3 time tony winner, broadway classic, city of angels with music by cy coleman, lyrics by david zippel, and book by larry gelbart. thanks.

I ALMOST FORGOT. theyre still birds 💜. yayyyy 💞

[waywardstation]

It's the Third Anniversary of PLA!

It's kinda hard to believe the Game is out for 3 years now.

Also 3 years of a good part of the Fandom crying over Ingo's unfortunate fate and the whereabouts of his twin brother.

But it also means almost 3 years worth of your content as well!

3 years of laughing, crying, cheering and rooting for your Akari and Ingo whom she adopted as her uncle/fatherly figure.

3 years full of fun shenanigans, exciting stories and heartwarming and wholesome content.

I know with the release anniversary I am a little early but I wanna say thank you already for giving us so much wonderful content in those 3 years! Keep up the good work! (in your own pace and without stress)

WHAT A FANTASTIC THREE YEARS IT HAS BEEN!! It is wild to think that Pokemon Legends: Arceus came out three whole years ago today. I still remember having the game delivered to my door on that day, and opening it and going in blind cause there was literally like nothing out for the gameplay yet. Immediately ran into Ingo and how Irida described he had appeared here from another place like me, I didn't recognize him at all but in my head I kept going 'he looks like a crashed pilot or something he looks so cool', grew attached to him cause we were in the same situation but his was way worse but he was still kind, and also cause he looked cool to me haha. Only after he started talking about Emmet and Chandelure in Wayward Cave did I realize he wasn't a new character and I had seen him before.

Grew obsessed with his whole story, wrote my first fanfics ever and kept them to myself for weeks, but I wasn't seeing a lot of the content being made that I wanted to see at this point (it's understandable though the game was still so new) so I then made a tumblr account to finally post them, because I didn't realize AO3 had such a long account creation waitlist lol.

IT HAS BEEN THREE YEARS SINCE THIS BEGAN WOW.

I am so, so happy that you and other awesome people have appreciated almost three years of my silly self-indulgent content now, I still see some of the same people who came around my blog three years ago interacting with my stuff today, and that means so much. And it's been so exciting seeing people still jump into this fandom today, too!!

Thank YOU Neko, for being one of those people who have been here since the beginning and for always motivating me and being kind to me, and wishing me well and sharing such awesome ideas you have yourself!!! And thank you everyone who has interacted with this blog and taken the time to appreciate my content and be a friend to me ;v; <3

I am working on some stuff to post for the anniversary today. I have content ready, its just uncertain how much of it will be done haha. I'm cleaning up WIPs that have been aging in my docs!! Happy three years to Pokémon Legends: Arceus, my favorite game, so so important and special to me!!!!!!

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh yes, this is definitely Angst City loll

*snorts* Oh, he's not handling this well, is he? Can't really blame him, considering a serial killer has the love of his life captured somewhere. 🥲

Beau's mood that morning in a nutshell 🤣👇

Oh Goddd, it really is awful. It's like nowhere in his life is private or safe anymore for him. How could you ever feel comfortable in your own office again?

Ikr? That whole cameras-everywhere added a whole other horrifying vibe to this. I once saw a documentary where some creep hit a camera inside the shower head of a motel bathroom 😖 Still gives me goosebumps lol

loll I could definitely see that. 😅

Right??? Like, he was so chill when Carla wanted to get married again lmao

THANK YOU. At least one of them is taking this situation more seriously than their rivalry. But I honestly understand and sympathize with Randy too -- he's grasping at straws even though he knows he's losing his (former) wife emotionally already, even if he does manage to find the key to saving her before Beau does.

I figured Beau would act more level-headed in this situation (outside of his office walls lol). But he doesn't prioritize her choice above saving her. Whereas Randy clearly has more of that "I need to win her back" mindset.

At least Randy ended up helping a little at the end there ☺️

Dammmmn how the hell is she getting this information?? But now I'm looking at Randy sideways even harder. 😒

lol yeah poor Randy, can't catch a break... It was honestly nothing completely horrible, just regular life stuff 🤷‍♀️ But I had that planned from the beginning because Beau idealized their relationship and marriage as "perfect" and "desirable". Kind of a "from the outside looking in" thing 😅

But it actually helps Beau come to a decision (and he probably feels less guilty now lol)

I was on pins and needles throughout all of the reader's almost escape -- that bear trap actually made me physically grimace/wince!! Omg poor thing. But I loved how remembering Beau's advice helped her get out of the trap -- or at least the bear trap, if not Hal's "Benders"-themed game of hunt and chase. 😰

💡🐻 Another bear fact for you: Your everyday bear trap can't really hurt you. In my head, I imagined Hal tinkered with it. But yeah, should only scratch you if at all 😂 And it does open like that! So super easy to get out of lmao

Such a great moment between Beau and Randy here, and such great storytelling, especially as they actually start to work together to solve the mystery of what happened to the reader next. 👏🏽💜 I think one of the things I love most about your writing is you have such a great sense of story beats, creating tension and when to relieve it, and how to build character arcs that provide amazing twists, while also making exact sense when it all comes together, piece by piece.

Aww, thank you so much, Alex! Means a lot coming from an amazing writer like yourself 🥹🫶

And I honestly love planing out all those details and leaving clues goddamn everywhere 🤓 I usually start my stories because some an insane twist popped into my mind first, and then I write around it 😅

I think this is why it sometimes takes me forever to write it all because you have to be so careful about every little thing you put in there lol 🙈

Remember earlier when I was talking about your amazing twists that make things click into place even more perfectly? Well THIS IS IT. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 It makes things with her and Beau make even more sense now that we know she was likely leaving Randy anyway, no matter how much she loved him.

I do love my twists 😂😂

And yes, totally what I was going for!!

Regardless, it seems like they had the honest man-to-man talk they needed to have about everything. But Wayne!!! That cliffhanger is...

I kinda loved writing their chat. Repairing their friendship is unlikely, but one can hope they wish each other well and part without too many hard feelings?? That was honestly a tough one to write 😂

Ah yep, that cliffhanger. Luckily the last one lol 😉

Polaris – Chapter 12

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, a heavy dose of angst, kidnapping, violence, injuries, serial killers, death, an awful cliffhanger

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! 🥳 We jump straight into 2025 with an angsty banger 👀

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 12: Through

On one of the sunniest mornings Helena had seen in recent days, the peaceful quiet of the early risers in the Sheriff’s Department was disturbed by one restless sheriff.

Beau was taking his office apart – bit by bit, nail by nail, panel by panel, brick by brick.

The search for you had gone on all night and yielded zero results. You were nowhere to be found. For all Beau knew, you could be dead by now and buried in the vast woods of Montana.

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away.

“You okay?” Jenny checked carefully.

“I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

“Thought you already found that hours ago,” Jenny noted with a raised brow.

“Can’t be too careful…” the sheriff murmured, his focus landing on the pile of pens on his desk. The silver one – had that always been there? He picked it up. “Does this look normal to you?”

Jenny only offered a shrug.

“Never mind,” Beau muttered and reduced the pen down to its individual parts. Nothing. Just a plain, old pen.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“What d’you think?”

At five in the morning, Beau had promised Jenny he’d snooze for half an hour on the couch in his office. He did lie down, stared at the suspended ceiling tiles for about a minute, and then remembered the damn camera.

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy.

How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

“Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that Randy went into Interrogation Room 2 with Diane…”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Jenny exhaled a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame. “He said you’d deputized him and authorized it, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Beau ran a hand across his face, rubbing his beard.

Rule #3: She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.

Rule #4: You’re not the boss of me.

“Well, I did deputize him,” Beau admitted. He had given his former partner a long leash, not expecting he’d bolt through the backyard.

“Beau…” Jenny clearly didn’t approve.

“He left me no choice, alright?!”

Well, no choice his guilt could deal with.

The sheriff then left his destroyed office and thundered into Interrogation Room 2 down the hall. Randy wouldn’t get to do this alone. Beau knew there was an ulterior motive – if only Randy saved you, he could also miraculously save his marriage. Randy was a persistent motherfucker. He wouldn’t give up.

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Beau charged in with steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, his anger was so focused on his friend, he didn’t even notice the rising smile on Diane’s lips.

“Good morning, Sheriff Arlen.” Even if Diane’s voice sounded melodious, to Beau it was still chalk on board. “Remodeling the office, are we?”

“You mind?” Randy prompted stand-offishly, glancing up at the sheriff. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Outside. Now,” was all Beau said.

Defiantly and miffed by the authoritative tone, Randy followed him to the hall.

“Play nice, boys!” Diane’s voice echoed through before the door fell into its lock.

“What d’you think you’re doing? You can’t just talk to our prime suspect without my presence!” Beau roared.

Randy rolled his eyes back. “Didn’t know I needed a babysitter…”

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

“Yeah, which is why I’m talking to the only lead we have! That bitch knows where she is,” Randy countered with an equal amount of fury.

“She’s not gonna tell you!”

Randy only shrugged – cocky in nature and completely unlike him. And Beau then realized something that had changed: His friend wouldn’t back down anymore and bend. Those days were over, and it was probably Beau’s own fault.

“We’ll see,” Randy said stubbornly, his hand wandering back to the door handle. “You comin’?”

Beau inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before nodding – and back into the lion’s den they went.

Diane welcomed them with a sneer. “All made up?”

“Tell us where Turner took her,” Randy demanded with a stern expression and firm voice.

If Randy wanted to play bad cop, the role of good cop fell to Beau by default. And although they had never ever played it that way before, Beau figured Randy carried more anger than even him right now. He might as well let him make good use of it.

“Can’t.” Diane twitched her shoulders. “Hal doesn’t tell me.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe that?” Beau lifted a brow in mock. “C’mon, Diane…”

“It’s true,” she said, smiling. “Call it an insurance policy in case one of you Neanderthals decides to go rogue on me – looking at you specifically, Sheriff Arlen. If you leave your own partner to die in a filthy warehouse, I don’t wanna know what you do to your enemies.” She then looked at Randy, whispering behind her palm, “You know, I think he did it on purpose.”

Beau clicked his tongue and snorted humorlessly. “Alright, Diane, you’ve had your fun. You’ve wreaked havoc… You’ve won, okay? Fair and square. Just give up your partner, tell us where Y/N is, and end this once and for all. Might even get a better deal if you do. Think about it. Murdering an FBI agent doesn’t look good in front of a judge and jury. We have iron-clad proof you killed at least five people in Texas. Capital murder, death penalty… See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

Randy and Beau both followed her gaze and stared at that same clock. Their eyes widened.

“Then when?” Randy prompted.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon.” Diane smirked. “If she makes it out alive, she can tell you in person she’s choosing the rugged sheriff here over you, Detective Nichols.”

Randy’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching and unclenching under the metal table.

“I gave her a fighting chance.”

“Oh, you mean like the others?” Beau had known from the start that it would be useless talking to her.

“They all could’ve gotten out,” said Diane as if she blamed the victims for not being smarter and more durable. “‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk, “Yeah, I know about the cute little nicknames for your deputies too, Sheriff. I wonder how many bugs you’ve found yet in your office. Sure it can’t be all of them. Maybe I’ve bugged the whole station. Who’s to say? Have you checked your trailer yet? The lovely agent’s motel room? No?”

Beau couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling that clutched his heart and twisted it like a boa constrictor. Pain, fear, anger, sadness – a deadly cocktail for anyone. Was this throbbing sting in his chest what a heart attack felt like? Only recently, he’d read an article in the paper about a guy his age who just dropped dead. Was this it for him?

Would it mean he'd get to see you again, though?

“Enough of that!”

Randy’s voice rang in his ears, but Beau couldn’t refocus. He needed fresh air to breathe, his lungs dried up and clinging to every molecule like he’d been deprived of oxygen for days. The small room felt suddenly suffocating as the monster across from him sneered joyfully.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re saying all that horseshit ‘cause you wanna hurt him or me,” Randy said, his voice laced with a darkness Beau had never seen before.

“Little bit of both,” Diane teased with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care either way,” Randy huffed, the deep creases in his brow casting threatening shadows on his face. “Do your worst to me or him. Hell, burn us at the stake if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, but all I wanna know is where that bunker is. Where is she? Your beef’s clearly with us. Men, right? You know she doesn’t deserve this. Just let her go.”

Diane seemed unamused by the suggestion, leaning back in the metal chair. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve this. I actually like her. She reminds me of me. But you two did this to her. It’s out of my hands at this point. You don’t deserve her, sheriff,” she said and looked at Beau before her cold eyes shifted to Randy. “Neither do you, detective. I know a lot of things – and not just about the sheriff here. I know what you did to her, too.”

Randy forced a tight smile. “You’re bluffing. I didn’t do anything.”

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

With a thick swallow and a glare swimming in his hazel eyes, Randy nodded. “We’re done here.”

Diane let out a long, suspenseful sigh, not bothering to engage further. Her icy heart wouldn’t melt. Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna,” Beau huffed. He had quietly listened, his heart rate slowing down as his head started spinning with questions. You had never told him anything. He had never asked. It had been an unspoken rule to not talk about your marriage. Beau always figured knowing too much would only make it worse.

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck. “Anyways, nice chatting with you boys, but it’s time for my beauty nap now. Which one of you two cowboys is gonna accompany me back to my cell, hm?”

The men shared a look and then wordlessly rose, leaving the room. In the safety of the hallway, Beau ran a hand over his face and took his first deep breath.

Air. Lungs. Brain. Without toxicity, he could finally think straight again.

“Well, this was pointless and a waste of our time. Happy now?” Beau huffed with his newfound lung capacity.

But Randy’s brow was furrowed. He was thinking. “Actually, yeah… Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, bunch of narcissistic bullshit. She’s not gonna tell us where Y/N is,” Beau muttered bitterly. If possible, he wished to never converse with that psychotic witch again. There was only so much he could handle before snapping her neck.

“She said that she doesn’t know where Y/N is now,” Randy pointed out. “Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe Y/N’s not in the bunker yet. Turner might keep her somewhere else and wait till he can move her.”

“At sundown,” Beau mused, Diane’s words haunting his mind. “He’ll move her when it’s dark.”

“Which means we still have a couple hours to find her,” Randy finished the thought.

“Popcorn!” Beau yelled down the hallway. The sheriff found himself in better spirits. He hadn’t used a silly name for his most loyal deputy in days, although it ached a tiny bit to say it now. “Any properties in Newton’s name?”

“Yes, sir, several,” Mo replied.

“I need a list of all in the area. Get a team together and search ‘em. One by one,” Beau ordered. “Warehouses, cabins… Take it all apart. I don’t care.”

“And also see if any properties are in Hal Turner’s name and add them to the list,” Randy suggested.

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

The obnoxiously loud sound of birds woke you from a deep slumber. Groggily, you pried your eyes open and found the first few beams of sunlight warming your face. For a peaceful moment of dazed bliss, you had no clue where you were or how you got here.

There was a thumping, searing pain in your skull, hammering away at your sanity like the ticks of a clock. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tension till you realized you were bound to an old wooden chair, a harsh and creaking surface underneath you. Your behind felt both sore and numb.

Glancing around the room, you noticed you were in the living quarters of a small cabin. A fireplace sat to your right. Above it, a cuckoo clock that showed shortly past noon, and you realized that must’ve produced the bird noise that woke you. The stinging sunlight reached your eyes and filled you with hope.

Hal Turner hadn’t locked you into a bunker yet.

“You’re awake. Good.” Turner entered the room with a bottle of water and a sandwich, throwing the items unceremoniously onto your lap. “You need to eat. We’ll leave soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where they all went,” he said and came up behind you. Turner wasn’t a man of tall stature. Small, middle-aged, nervous. Non-threatening.

Diane’s little ant.

He cut your ties, and you could tell his hands were shaking. They didn’t treat the others like that. Entertaining a victim had never been his job before.

Sedated, dumped, marooned.

That had been the pattern, and you hoped this little off-course adventure would pay off with your freedom. Your gaze drifted down to a lonely brown belt buckle.

Unarmed.

With free hands and Turner still vulnerably behind you, your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, he wasn’t as heavy as Beau in training when you jolted him forward, jumped up, and rammed his face straight into your knee.

Unconscious for the moment, Turner tumbled to the ground, and you sprinted through the front door. You hoped it would give you enough time to find an exit.

But all you found was a vast sea of trees – towering pines that reached heavenward with no neighboring houses or roads in sight.

There was a shed to your left. Tools. You needed weapons.

And, most of all, you needed more goddamn time to think your way out of this one.

It wasn’t long till you heard the front door of the cabin slam open, heavy and angry footsteps aimlessly searching before they slowly circled closer to the shed.

Fortunately, your little hide-out had proved itself useful – and fully stocked. Turner had arranged his tools in a neatly organized manner. Nothing seemed to be out of place, screwdrivers hanging on the wall from small to big, pliers, drills, hacksaws… Your weapons of choice, however, fell on a hammer and the heaviest, biggest wrench.

Lurking behind the small barn door, you lay in wait till the old door creaked open and Hal Turner walked through. He only blinked at you wide-eyed before your first hit with the wrench landed across his right cheek. It was hard enough for blood to spew out of his mouth, and as he tumbled forward, you delivered your second blow – the hammer, this time, slamming against the back of his head.

Dropping the tools, you decided to take your chances and make a run through the woods for it. You still had a few fleeting hours till dark. If you just kept going, maybe you’d make it to a road or a town somewhere before you froze to death.

What a great outlook…

However, you didn’t even get farther than a few yards from the house before a sharp pain seared from your ankle throughout your entire body. Falling harshly and bracing yourself on the cold, wet leaves, you screamed out and looked down at the culprit – a bear trap.

Well, points for Hufflepuff!

Apparently, you had underestimated Turner. Ahead of you, you also spied some tripwire. Great. This place was a giant death trap – and you had already hated the woods before all of this.

Getting back onto your feet was not only hindered by the giant claws in your flesh but also the iron chain attached to the trap that tethered you to the ground. So, with your freezing hands, you dug out the metal stake that served as your anchor.

Then, the fucking bear trap – you knew this one would hurt like a son of a bitch. Carefully, you inspected the oozing wound, the razor sharp edges deeply clutching your skin at your lower calf and ankle. For a moment, you even swore you could feel the tips of their pointed teeth drilling into your bone. You tried to pry them apart with your hands but gave up on that idea rather quickly once the jaws cut your fingers.

Glancing at the shed, you saw the door was still ajar. It was quiet in there. Either Hal Turner was gone, solely unconscious, or currently bleeding to death. The shed was your Schrödinger’s cat. As long as you didn’t know which one it was, you still had time.

Taking several deep breaths, you closed your eyes and remembered the trip you took with Beau when you were back in Houston. The two of you drove camping in Piney Woods. For a few days, you were gone and unknown to everyone around you. You could just be you and him. No one had to hide anything. No one had to feel guilty. In those short days, you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute. He glances at you, a happy smile on his face as he intertwines his fingers with yours during a stroll through the green and lush forest.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is not panic, get up on your feet, and press your weight down on the springs at the bottom. Just pops open and you can pull your leg out,” he explains with a popping sound, turning the little lesson into a show-and-tell.

“Don’t panic…” you mumbled to yourself and sat up. “Get up…” With a strained groan and your palms supportively on the ground, you heaved yourself to your feet. You winced as you put pressure on your injured leg and, therefore, tried to shift your weight to your good one. The main problem was the next step: “Press down.”

Mentally, you braced yourself before you slowly started to put pressure on the leg again. The jaws moved and wiggled in your flesh, but the pain was too much too bear. You bit down on your tongue as tears strangled your eyes.

Alright, next try.

If slow was too painful, then maybe the bandaid method was the way to go. Quick and painless, as they say. You inhaled and exhaled through your nose as you raised your foot a few inches above ground, making sure the springs would hit the uneven surface properly. Then, you kicked down.

The trap sprung open, you pulled your foot out, and released a primal scream that echoed through the quiet woods, surely disturbing whatever lived there.

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Diane’s listed properties came up empty. There was still no sign of you. Turner, on the other hand, had only booked a motel room in his name but hadn’t been seen there in weeks. So, Beau figured he had to be staying somewhere if he wasn’t sleeping in his room.

At four o’clock, the sheriff was close to a breakdown when all leads petered out and the daylight was almost gone. But then Cassie and Denise stormed the station, both out of breath, and brought forth a document that showed a property north of Helena in the name of a Diane Turner. It was a remote cabin in the middle of the woods, which also happened to be close to the location where the ambulance had picked up Randy.

Ding, ding, ding!

Beau gathered the whole cavalry and raced there as fast as he could. By the time he was ten minutes out, the sky had grown dark, the woods pitch-black around him. Switching on the Jeep’s headlights only added to the uneasiness in his stomach. His passenger was quiet next to him, but Beau could tell how worried Randy was by the way his left leg anxiously drummed against the floor mat.

Both of them thought it was too late to save you.

An access road, all dirt, led up behind the cabin, only making it a short hike. Turner’s vehicle had been parked at the fork where it reached pavement. They seemed to be on the right track. After all, if Turner was here, then hopefully so were you.

Beau and Randy were the first to arrive, the cabin inside dark without a single light on, not even a candle burning in the smudged windows. Carefully, the men stepped on the porch, the property around them quiet and undisturbed, but the front door was an inch ajar. Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest.

They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

The floorboards creaked under Beau’s boots as he treaded down the hallway. The cabin was small, only consisting of one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and bath. While the men checked each room, Beau already knew you weren’t here anymore – if you’d ever been here to begin with. Maybe Diane had sent them on a wild goose-chase, another sick game created by the mind of psychopath, while you had been locked in a bunker all along, waiting for him to find you.

How much air did you still have left? Would he get to you in time?

“Beau!”

His partner’s voice drew him from the bedroom to the living space, his mind still rattling with the unspoken fear of losing you. His green eyes then focused on the beam of Randy’s flashlight as it shone on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, a set of cut plastic ties on the floor next to it. There was also an uneaten sandwich and an unopened bottle of water scattered on the ground.

And then, there were the trails, the little drops, and the sheer pools of blood everywhere that made his gut churn. Was it all yours?

“We need to get forensics here,” Beau said with a thick swallow, already pulling out his phone to call Jenny.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Randy said with a lump in his throat, his eyes transfixed on the little red pond by the tips of his feet. And although it was dark, Beau could see the color drain from his partner’s face.

“I know.” Beau bobbed his head quietly, gently clasping his friend’s shoulder as he held his phone to his ear.

The sheriff then informed Jenny of their findings, telling her to hurry any lab results along. The sooner they knew whose blood it was, the better. As he hung up, he noticed Randy following a trail of blood to the door, leading further outside. He shone his flashlight through the dense foliage before it landed on a little working shed to the right.

As Randy creaked the door of the shed open, with Beau behind him, both thought there was a high probability they’d stumble upon a body in there – if not two.

Instead, the shed was disappointingly empty.

Beau whistled lowly as the light hit the neatly arranged wall of tools. “Well, that’s some freak level organization.”

But Randy’s brow furrowed as his light landed on the ground behind the door. “There’s a hammer and wrench on the ground.” He knelt down to inspect it closer. “Got blood on it. Lot of it.”

Beau chuckled lightly and ran a palm over his face to keep the stinging tears of hope inside, which only confused Randy.

“What’s so funny? Y/N might be dead,” Randy said sourly.

“That’s not Turner’s doing,” Beau argued and gestured at the tools on the ground, his heart flooding with a tiny bit of relief. “Look at the wall. Why would he kill her with tools? It’s way too bloody. Guy like this can’t handle the mess. He had a perfectly fine gun. Would’ve been way cleaner if he wanted to.”

“So, you think this was Y/N?” Randy thought for a moment before nodding. “The ties inside were cut. The food and water on the floor… Maybe he cut her loose and she took advantage of it? I mean, it does sound like her.”

“Yeah…” Beau’s eyes then musingly drifted back to the wall. “Is there a screwdriver on the ground somewhere? There’s one missing here.”

“Nope, nothing on the ground,” Randy replied once his flashlight search was complete. “You think she took it with her?”

“Let’s hope so…”

“But if Y/N managed to overpower Turner, why isn’t she here? And where’s Turner? And if it happened out here, why is there so much blood inside?”

Beau licked his chapped lips, his brow returning to their initially creased position. “Maybe she didn’t take him out for good.”

“You thinkin’ she knocked him out and escaped?”

“Yeah, and then Turner woke up, went back into the house before taking off after her through those woods,” Beau shared his theory. It would explain the vast amounts of blood inside.

“So, your theory is she’s lost and being hunted?” Randy cocked a brow.

Beau only offered him a shrug. “Best possible scenario.”

“Great.” Randy scoffed. “What’s the worst possible scenario then?”

Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think we both know.” Licking his lips, he patted Randy’s shoulder. “But let’s not think about the worst right now. I’ll get a team going to search these woods. We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

“It’s been three hours,” Randy huffed frustratedly as they passed the same street sign to Helena down the mountain once more, driving up and down the roads around the cabin in an endless loop, hoping and praying a miracle would happen. “Don’t you think we would’ve found her by now? If she’s hurt and inside those woods, we should be in there looking for her.”

Beau passed another sigh between his lips. There had been three hours of that, too. Patience was a not only an eight-letter word but a bitch as well.

“Neither of us is any help there. We don’t know those woods. You don’t even a phone, Randy,” Beau said with a bit more firmness in his voice, causing his partner’s frown to deepen. Saved by the bell, Beau’s phone chimed in his pocket with Jenny’s angelic name popping up on the screen. He pulled over on the side of the road before picking up.

“What you got? Uh-huh… You sure? What did they say about the cabin? Okay… Both of ‘em? How far? Which direction? Alright… We’re close. Driving back up there now.”

Randy held his breath till Beau hung up, trying to guess the content of the phone call by the various facial expressions of the sheriff. Then, he asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Hard to say,” Beau replied, his eyes fixed on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gave himself an encouraging nod, and started the engine, trying to sink every bad theory that surfaced in his mind. “Forensics came back. Our theory was partially correct. The blood inside the cabin was mostly Turner’s.”

Randy raised a brow, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Mostly?”

“Evidence points to her not escaping. Turner might have gotten to her before she could even leave the property. They found a bear trap with her blood on it,” Beau explained slowly, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Dogs picked up a trail, leading into the woods. Forensics confirmed both of their blood on that trail.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve followed her. She still could’ve escaped,” Randy replied and knew full well it was only sugarcoating the truth swimming in the lower pits of his belly.

“Could’ve…” Beau nodded and swallowed heavily. “But then again, if she did manage to escape, how did her blood end up inside the cabin?”

Defeated, Randy licked his lips, expelling a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, guess my hopes are little too high. I mean, how the hell would you get out of a bear trap?”

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. I’ve spent a lot of time with you…” Randy smacked his lips, fingers tapping his thigh. “You guys went on a trip together?”

Beau’s mouth opened on reflex, but he stopped himself from replying, shooting a scrutinizing look at his partner. “Yeah, uh, just the one, really. Shoulda been more…”

Regrets seeped to the surface. If Beau had known he had only a finite amount of time with you, he would’ve enjoyed and appreciated every last second of it. He should’ve spent less time in his head. He should’ve taken you out on more dates. He should’ve been the best he could be. Instead, he wasted so much time and couldn’t even remember why in retrospect.

“What makes you say that?” Randy’s question rang both with curiosity and pain. His brown eyes stared stubbornly ahead and focused on the dark road.

Beau blew a long sigh. “Well, I wasn’t always the best–,” he hesitated a moment before saying the word, “–boyfriend, I guess.”

If Randy was upset by the term, he didn’t let it show. Maybe he was sticking to Rule #2. He quirked a brow and glanced at Beau in the driver’s seat. “So, on top of stealing my wife, you’re telling me you didn’t even treat her right?”

“Guess so,” Beau admitted quietly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and ignoring the subtle jab. “And I didn’t treat her badly, by the way. Just could’ve tried harder. Felt guilty because she was your-, well, you know… And the divorce got kinda messy, too. I just wanted to stay clear of complications.”

Exasperated, Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “This is not really making me want to give you my blessing…”

Beau huffed a chuckle. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it’s not. You don’t deserve her.” Randy clicked his tongue, pensively bobbing his head. He then finally admitted, the words sounding almost sour, “Neither do I. You might be as big of an idiot as me.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, his focus briefly swaying from the road. “What d’you mean? You guys were perfect together. Is this about what Newton said?”

Randy’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Y/N never told you?”

“Told me what?”

Randy chewed on his lower lip before pushing out the words that had plagued him for three years. “She wanted to leave me.”

Beau shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. She loved you. You should’ve seen her after she thought you’d died.”

Randy inhaled sharply, his head spinning with regret and heart filling with hope. For the past years, he had wondered if he’d ever get another chance to fix things with you.

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Beau listened and nodded. He remembered the set dinner table, the lovingly prepared food, the candles – it didn’t seem like something one would do if they planned on leaving.

“No, I don’t think she would’ve left you,” Beau noted, although his heart stung when he said it out loud.

“I overheard her asking Carla for a divorce lawyer. Pretty sure she was,” Randy retorted. “Seems silly now. She was already out of my league. I should’ve just given her what she wanted. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should’ve just shut up and been grateful.”

“That’s what I would’ve told you to do,” Beau muttered, his brain trying to keep track and process everything. Why had you never told him any of this? And more importantly: “Why have you never told me?”

“Guess I was embarrassed.” Randy shrugged. “And I already knew what you would’ve said.”

Secretly amused, Beau cocked a brow. “What? That you’re an idiot?”

“Exactly.”

“And Carla knew?”

“I guess.” Randy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they talked all the time. Well, mostly it was Carla complaining about you, but still…”

Beau’s brow furrowed into deep lines. He should’ve been more surprised than he was. The only thing that really baffled him was the fact you had still agreed to date him after hearing all of that. What else didn’t he know?

“I thought they met once a week for book club?”

Randy shot him a pitying look. “Dude, there was no book club. Only three bottles of wine.” He then exhaled a long sigh, stretching back into his seat. “Maybe it’s good she didn’t pick anyone. She deserves someone who can give her what she wants.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” A little offended, Beau raised his brow. “You know, when she came back a few weeks ago, I swore I’d make things right. I wouldn’t let her go this time.”

But Beau broke that promise. He pushed you away to stay clear of complications. His heart twinged.

“And you think she wanted to live in a trailer in the woods of Montana?”

“Doesn’t matter. I would’ve given her anything she wanted. No questions asked,” Beau stated simply. “I was happy when I was with her. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing.”

“So, what? You planned on marrying her? Kids?”

Beau twitched his shoulders, his eyes not drifting from the street. If he glanced at Randy only for a beat, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s reactions any longer and still remain honest. “We never talked about it, but... If that’s what she wants, then yeah. Don’t even have to think about it. You really were an idiot, you know?”

“I know that. Thank you,” Randy huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Still not getting my blessing, though.”

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

“You’re one to talk.” Randy scoffed mockingly. “I met your friend Denise at the station. We had a long chat. She almost talks as much as you. Sounded like you tried to have a say in who Carla should marry. Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“That’s different,” Beau retorted defensively. “We have a kid together. Whoever Carla’s seeing is also gonna be in Emily’s life.”

“So, you don’t even care a little about Carla’s well-being? ‘Cause Denise said you killed her new husband,” Randy countered cleverly.

“Of course I care,” Beau admitted frustratedly. What did Randy want to hear? That he was right about everything? Well, except one thing: “And I didn’t kill Avery, by the way. Might have been slightly responsible for his death, sure, but I didn’t kill the idiot.”

“Seems to be a pattern for you. Maybe Diane was right,” Randy muttered wryly.

Beau licked his lips and sighed. “Listen, I know that devil woman is good at getting into someone’s head, but you gotta believe me, man. I did not leave you to die. If I had known–”

“Whoa, I know,” Randy interrupted him with an amused chuckle and two placating hands. “I was just joking. I knew you didn’t hand me over to the cartel on purpose in some evil ploy to get with my wife. That would be insane.”

Beau gave a nod, accepting his answer with relief. “Well, good.”

“Look, I’m not delusional, contrary to what everyone’s thinking. I know things happened while I was away,” Randy admitted. “I figured she had moved on. For three years, I actually hoped she did. I wanted her to be happy. Just didn’t think it be you, I guess. Probably shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I kinda knew you always liked her. Just didn’t think any more of it, you know?”

“And there wasn’t more, alright? I promise,” Beau assured him, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He never thought Randy would’ve suspected anything – not that there really ever was anything. But had his tiny crush really been that obvious? “One of those things, you know? Just ‘cause I find Michelle Rodriguez attractive doesn’t mean I seriously expect to date her. I didn’t know it was more than that till I spent some time with her.”

“Good to know,” was all Randy said, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable clear of his throat. “Definitely surprised Y/N likes you, though. She always had a pretty low opinion of you. Said you were doing shitty police work and I should be more careful. Guess she was right..." Beau shot him a darkened look but refrained from taking the bait. Randy pursed his lips. "Look, I know I’m a pain in your ass right now. You’d probably love to get rid of me.”

“Well, hey, that’s not–”

“What, true?” Knowingly, Randy lifted a brow. “I would if I were you.”

Beau only nodded, not admitting out loud the thought had certainly crossed his mind. “So, what are you thinking now?”

“Still want her to be happy,” Randy said quietly.

All of a sudden, Beau then slammed on the brakes, both men jolting forward into their seatbelts. A loud thud echoed through the car as something heavy hit the Jeep’s hood. For a moment, the sheriff thought he’d run into a deer before blinking his eyes at the bloodied and muddied image of Hal Turner.

“What the hell?!”

Turner was in rough shape, pantingly and deliriously stumbling around the car and onto the road, shielding his eyes from the blinding headlights with his palm. Blood dripped from various places from his head and body before Beau’s eyes narrowed on the metal tool stuck inside his neck.

“Guess we found our missing screwdriver,” Randy noted as the two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

“Where is she, Turner?” Beau prompted sternly, his finger itching to pull the trigger for everything he’d done to you. But knowing where you were was more important than a vendetta. Turner could only speak while he was alive.

And the man seemed to know it, too. Before the sheriff could call for back-up and an ambulance, Turner sneered and raised a hand, gripping the screwdriver tightly.

“No, don’t!”

Beau’s plea came too late. Hal Turner pulled the makeshift weapon out of his throat and collapsed to the ground, bleeding out within seconds.

Randy’s fingers landed on the man’s pulse point. He glanced up at his partner with a shake of his head. “He’s gone.”

Throwing his gun angrily into the rustling brushes, Beau gripped his temples and screamed into the void of the dark woods. Desperation clawed on his mind and heart. The fear of losing you for good took him prisoner. With labored breaths, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed his tired eyes. Turner had been his last lead. He knew more wouldn’t be coming.

What now?

A sanctimonious beep of his phone drew his attention. A small part of him prayed it was Jenny, informing him you’d emerged a few miles up the road – bloody like Turner, but otherwise fine. Alive.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

Another cliffhanger, and it looks like Diane's still having the last laugh 🙈

What did you think of this part? Were you surprised by Randy's revelation? He might've changed his mind on a few things 😉

See ya next week for the freaking finale 🤍

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

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Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser

[weregonnaneedabiggerboat]

Whatcha Hiding, There?

Lee! Aroace! Jax x Ler! Aroace! Reader

CW: Mentions of touch starvation, mild mentions of isolation, mild mention of time blindness

Notes: It's been a while since you'e gotten here and you and Jax have been buddies for a while. Reader is gender neutral as always and is heavily implied to be introverted. Reader is also implied to be an artist, hobbyist, or writer of some kind, up to you. Jax & Reader's relationship is purely platonic, kind of bordering a QPR (queerplatonic relationship).

A/N: Despite the fact all my fics are heavily implied to be platonic, I wanted to write one that made it more explicitly clear. I really like the headcanon that Jax is aroace, especially as an aroace myself, so this is a fanfic/tickle fic, mostly just a fanfic though because there's a lotta buildup, that is purely just best friends being affectionate with each other <3 Anyway enough of my ramblings lol XD - Enjoy!

∘₊✧─────────✧₊∘

A few months passed by since you got here. Or... Maybe it was a week... Or a year…

You didn't know, really. Time flowed in the strangest way possible in this world.

Anywho, it's been enough time for you to develop some more complex relationships with the others, and learn more about their behaviours and personalities. The ironic part of this process, however, was that, in spite of the way everyone treated and thought of him, Jax ended up being the one you platonically bonded the most with.

It was hard to say why, because it's not like Jax was the easiest character to love. At least, surface-level wise and not at first. Much less the type of person most people would want to end up spending most of their days with.

He was kind of a jerk and a total attention whore, but you were the opposite of that. He enjoyed the chaos and you prefered to be objective and calm. Most people would say that opposites must attract, but honestly, you personally chalked it up to the fact that nobody has really been able to match his energy. It was heavily implied to you by the looks of everything that you were the first person in a while to be able to banter with him without breaking.

And boy, did he try. Not out of malice, but perhaps shock at the fact such a person existed. Jax tested you noticeably more than the others for a little while in the beginning, and some of his pranks were genuinely unhinged. It was funny how desperate he was for attention, he treated you like some kind of challenge.

Through it all, you remained surprisingly calm. In fact, you were almost amused at how hard Jax was trying to rile you up. You still gave him some attention though through playful banter, and that's when he realized he could comfortably be himself around you, no longer having to hide behind the walls of a tough and unempathetic persona now that he had someone that matched his pitch.

His behaviour had mellowed out a lot since then.

And, well, that leads to today.

“You can get it after a couple twists if you follow the same algorithm,” Jax explained, lounging on his bed next to you and showing you a rubix cube he was twisting around. He had solved it pretty quickly, and was twirling it around his hand to show you all six solved sides with a mildly amused grin on his face.

“That's impressive,” you commented, taking the cube from his hand to inspect it yourself. You then chuckled playfully, “I'm surprised a numb-skull such as you can even figure out how to do the first twist.”

Jax returned the laugh, resting his hands on his stomach. “Well after spending years upon years in this… Place. You kind of need something to do to pass the time. If it's not annoying people it's doing this kinda stupid @$#&.”

You made a smug expression, handing the cube back to him, watching as he tossed it on his night stand. “So you chose the nerdiest possible way to do that?” you teased.

He nudged your side with a small “Shut up!”, and again, you both shared a laugh.

Being in his room wasn't really anything that special to you anymore, even if at first, the idea did make you a little shy. In no time, however, the both of you had developed a habit of visiting the other whenever either of you got bored. Jax gave you the key to his room and you gave him the key to yours.

Usually it was Jax who came marching into your bedroom anyway, since he always craved the attention you were willing to give him.

You didn't mind giving him an ear whenever he wanted to ramble, or just some quiet time if he needed to sit in silence with someone. In those moments, you liked to work on your journal, whether it was drawing or writing or what have you. He always seemed to silently appreciate your compassion.

And after a while of your refusal to be hostile towards him like the others, you learned that the only thing Jax really needed was a friend.

“I've been working on some new stuff in my journal if you want to come over and look at it,” you spoke up after you reminded yourself about that, sitting up and straightening out your back. You crossed your legs together atop his bed and faced him once more.

Jax put his hands behind his back as he thought about the invite. He then shrugged, making eye contact with you again. “I'm fine doing whatever,” he answered.

“Cool then, pass me the key to my room,” you said, reaching for the giant pocket in the middle of his overalls where you knew he kept your key at all times.

He then flinched all of a sudden when he saw your hand reach for his stomach, his arms immediately descending in front of him. “Oof— Okay, okay!" His pupils seemed to tighten for a moment, and he chuckled nervously before straightening his expression again.

"Relax, I got it,” he murmured, reaching a hand into his pocket to fish out the key. “Here you go.”

That dramatic reaction to a simple motion definitely intrigued you. Staring up at him, you cocked a curious brow.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You snorted a bit under your breath, much to his confusion and slight embarrassment. After grabbing the key from his hand, you hopped off his bed and motioned for him to follow you.

Jax stretched out his limbs in all four directions, then got up from his bed as well and followed you out into the hallway. However, he didn't seem to like that smirk on your face, especially after that little interaction. He narrowed his eyes down at you, “What are you lookin so smug for?”

You laughed out loud at how suspicious he seemed to be now, greatly amused with the way his eyes squinted down at you. “I already said nothing!” you chuckled, laughing even more when he turned his face away with a small huff. He was so hilariously adorable sometimes.

Both of you made it into your bedroom, which was only a few doors down, and he was just awkwardly quiet and fidgety the whole time.

Jax immediately took a seat on your bed and laid down in the same lazy position with his hands behind his head. Meanwhile you went ahead and searched for your journal on your desk.

“I just want to know your thoughts on something I'm working on,” you spoke after finally finding and grabbing the notebook to go sit next to him.

You hopped onto your bed and mimicked his pose, laying your back against the head of the bed frame. Then you paused.

Your hands rested against the cover of your journal, but you couldn't help your curiosity. Your eyes glanced back to the spot on his stomach where you tried to reach earlier, and he must have spotted your staring, because he immediately seemed to tense up a little.

“...Well?” he asked, trying to gently nudge you back into focusing on the journal again.

“Say, what else do you keep in there?” you asked playfully, reaching your hand towards the same direction. You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you when he reacted in the same dramatic way, but even more nervous this time.

“Wh-Why does it matter!” Jax exclaimed, now trying to shield his belly from your hand with his arms. He seemed to smile nervously, his eyes fixated on the movements of your hand and no longer even looking at you.

“I'm just curious,” you insisted, then decided to wiggle your fingers a little bit. To your delight, Jax responded with a soft giggle, hugging his belly even more, but never pressing his arms up against it. Almost as if he thinks he can somehow still convince you that there was definitely nothing strange going on here, and his belly totally wasn't a sensitive area or anything.

“Curious about whaha— Hehehey!!”

He started to giggle even more as your fingers made contact with his stomach, now trying to press his arms against himself, but it was much too late. “Cut it ouhuhut!!”

“Come on, let me just see!” you laughed victoriously, setting your journal aside and getting up on your knees so you can use both hands to tickle him. “You're not hiding any drugs in there or anything, are you?”

“Whahahat!! Thahat’s not even allohohowed hehere!!” he cackled even more, kicking his feet a little and trying to curl up on himself, but there was no way you were going to let him do that.

Moving quickly, you firmly mounted yourself on top of his waist so that he couldn't get away, now being able to sneak both of your hands past his defenses.

“Quit squirming about and hold still, I'm trying to check your pocket!” you teased, finding his desperation to be thoroughly amusing. And it only got funnier when his giggles immediately got louder the moment your fingers somehow got past his arms.

Jax was now blushing and pressing his eyes closed, a flustered mess at this whole interaction. The funny thing is, he wasn't even normally this ticklish, he could usually hold his reactions back so nobody suspected anything. But something about your teasing and playfulness, and really just you in general, made it ten times more difficult to do that. And now he was becoming a puddle of giggles under you.

“Hehe— S-Stohohohop!!” he squealed, opening his eyes again to look up at you with dilated pupils that completely betrayed his words. He was obviously really enjoying this, and you knew because he wasn't even trying to fight you off of him.

It wasn't bad at all, Jax thought, just kind of surprising. The tickles felt nice and almost warm and playfully affectionate. It's been such a long time since he's received any kind of physical affection, so he was certainly in no position to reject it.

You finally managed to slip your hand into the giant pocket of his overalls, grinning with success when he seemed to gasp in surprise. You had to twist your arm in a bit of an odd position, but it was completely worth it with the way his laughter doubled the moment your fingers wriggled against his stomach, now only held back by one thin layer of fabric.

“EEK— WAHAHAHA!!” Jax's voice got louder, and it made you thankful you shut the door to your bedroom behind you. He was laughing and squealing so much at this point you didn't even know if he was blushing from exhaustion or embarrassment. Not that he did, either.

“Huh, I'm not feeling anything strange,” you said in a mock serious tone, pretending to search around for anything 'suspicious'. But in reality, you just wanted to find every sensitive spot by poking around and listening to the sounds of his laughter. Your other hand crawled to his side, gently pinching there while you performed your ‘search’ all over his belly.

“Let's see,” you mused, snickering at how adorably he was squirming at this point. You have never heard such genuine laughter escape this man before. “Maybe in this corner? Hmm… Nope, just lint. How about the other one?”

Jax wasn't even bothering to say any coherent words anymore, his giggles reaching new heights the more you teased and wriggled your fingers against his belly. He just kept kicking his feet, pressing his eyes closed and feeling tears prick at the corner of them. As overwhelming as the touch was, he really wanted it to continue, but he was struggling to breathe at this point that he had to try and put a stop to it for now.

“Okay okay I give I GIHIHIVE!!” Jax pleaded, gasping for air and wheezing through his laughter.

You pulled your hands away and watched as he panted strongly, resting them back in your lap. His pupils were big and dilated, timidly staring off to the side. What was most adorable, however, was that he was still smiling genuinely, and his arms fell loosely against his sides, his hands barely resting on his chest.

“You never told me you were so ticklish, Jax,” you chuckled, gently fluttering a couple fingers against his exposed ribs. He rewarded you with a few soft giggles, his arms barely trying to cling to his sides again.

“Hehe— Thahat's not sohomething peheheople juhust sahay to eheach otheheher!!” Jax tried to exclaim through his soft laughter, shivering and flinching with your soft touches. He looked back up at you briefly before closing his eyes again.

“Yeah but still,” you argued with a playful tone, gently wiggling an index finger under his arm. "Hehe, tickle tickle~"

That seemed to wake him up again, as his giggles immediately increased and he curled his legs up again, pressing his arms down. “Stohohop!!” Jax laughed, trying to get away from your wandering hand.

You did, satisfied with his adorable reactions and instead you just patted the space on his head between his ears. He didn't fight back against the touch, but was visibly flustered anyway. Jax really was starving for physical affection, and part of you was equally sad as you were relieved for finding this out just now. If only he had told you sooner, you didn't have problems with giving him what he needed.

“Why didn't you say anything about this?” you asked, pulling your hand away to rest against your lap and fidget with the fabric of your clothing.

“About what?” Jax asked curiously, pulling himself up a little with you on top of him so he could rest on his elbows.

“Y'know, the fact you're so touch starved?”

Jax blushed and averted his eyes again, not having expected you to say it so bluntly. He looked uncomfortable for a moment, then anxious. “Um... Well I... I thought you'd think it was pathetic—”

“It kind of is,” you snickered playfully, then waved a hand to show you were just kidding.

He smirked and rolled his eyes, huffing out a chuckle. “Shut up. Well, I guess I was… Just afraid? That you'd…”

Jax sighed and made an anxious shrugging motion, his eyes darting between everything in your room, before timidly settling on your general form again. “Y'know, that you'd see it as some kind of flirting thing…”

You shrugged back, then finally climbed off his waist so you could stretch your limbs out and sit next to him again.

“That’s reasonable,” you simply responded, resuming your previous position. “But you don't need to be afraid anymore, y'know it's just platonic affection." You gestured, "We can hug and stuff if you really want that, I don't mind.”

Jax rolled his eyes, propping himself up as well to a more comfortable postition.

“Yeah yeah whatever, enough sappy yappy," he dismissed. "Whatcha got in your journal that you wanted to show me?”

He seemed to be dismissive, but you knew by the genuine look in his eyes that he was grateful for your understanding.

“Right,” you stated, reminded of what you two originally came here for. You decided to scoot a bit closer to him and grabbed his arm to rest around your shoulders. You shifted to find a comfortable position for both of you, then opened the book and set it on your lap.

Jax was understandably spooked by the sudden grab. He hesitated, but... wasn't against it. This was... Nice. Calm. He could get used to this maybe.

Jax slowly and silently leaned against you and rested his head on yours. He smiled a little to himself and began to listen to and watch whatever it is you wanted to ramble about to him this time. And this time in particular, things felt a little bit more comfortable.

[crumbs-of-the-machine]

Welp guess who's back again. Simultaneously took longer, and shorter than intended, but I've got something in the works, but have something to show for it now at least!

It's an AU that is.. yet to have a name, but the basis is that all cookies have animal features! :]

With that in mind, here's the two designs I've got so far!

(Putting them under a cut so the post isn't too long, lol)

Pure Vanilla, a sheep with warm wool, and an equally warm smile. The king of the Vanilla kingdom, he's a gentle and calm healer, and though he has incredible expertise in magic of all kinds, retains healing and protection as his specialties. He really likes his space and his privacy, despite how friendly he is.

I'm not sure about the staff I gave him, but we'll see... It still has the same functionality as his usual orchid staff, just.. a couple more flowers that are much, much smaller. His usual outfit is the one on the right, which is basically his canon outfit, but with the addition of lotsa fluff, hehe! The left is an alternative outfit inspired somewhat by the Pastel Blue costume, because I love it a lot hehehe!

Shadow Milk Blueberry Milk, an eccentric and theatrical rabbit who lives in Pure Vanilla's dreams, quite literally. His situation is somewhat of a mystery to Pure Vanilla, but he knows the rabbit is rather lonely without him. Blueberry Milk is full of jokes, excitement and energy, making every night entertaining through a handmade stageplay, or an intriguing conversation. He's incredibly intelligent despite his chipper and lax attitude, which shows clearest in deeper conversations.

His design is very inspired by the statue seen in Episode 7, though also with definite use of Shadow Milk's current design, and referencing his sprites a little, especially for colors. He might get some design changes over time, mostly adding some details perhaps? His outfit feels a little too plain for him methinks... haveta think about it I suppose :3

In Pure Vanilla's dreams, he'd made a friend unlike any other, and they ended up becoming closer and closer to each other after years and years of talking each and every night. After all, Blueberry already knew Vanilla's deepest secret, so for once, there was nothing for him to hide... which I'll get into later. ;]

I will note, some other characters and their animals have been figured out but not too many. I have most of the other ancients, and some of the other beasts though!

Dark Cacao: Moose Golden Cheese: Bird(Wow, shocker.. still haven't figured out what kind yet though, because it will be more specific than 'bird') White Lily: Mantis(Possibly Orchid Mantis) Hollyberry: I'm trying to decide between Draconic or a Bear.. hmm...

Mystic Flour: Spider Burning Spice: Lion Honestly don't know enough about the other two beasts to decide for them quite yet methinks..

Here's some more loose ideas I have for other characters:

Werewolf is going to be a wolf, obviously. Cream Ferret, Fig, Kumiho and Cream Unicorn are along the same lines for obvious reasons. Crunchy Chip will also be a wolf most likely(unless I get a better idea(unlikely)) I think Rye should be either a cow or horse I would like the faeries to be bugs, specifically along the lines of butterflies and moths The mer cookies like Crimson Coral, Sorbet Shark, Frilled Jellyfish, Squid Ink, etc. probably will mostly remain how they are, and same with the dragons. Chili Pepper might be a raccoon, or a weasel because I think it'd be funny Strawberry I think is gonna be some kind of cat. Not sure about Wizard and Gingerbrave right now though

Anyway, I'll be back later, Fish out ✌️

[meggie-moo]

wake up new au just dropped >:)

[teamoon7]

🇺🇲: It's been so long since I've posted something so I decided to finish some random Hoshina doodles I'd made a while ago :)

🇧🇷: Faz muito tempo desde que postei alguma coisa aqui, então decidi digitalizar e juntar uns rabiscos do Hoshina que eu fiz há um tempo :)

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Evolving Truth of Ever-Stronger Will

YA contemporary in 2nd person

a teen’s abusive mother dies and they have to figure out how to heal and survive the final year before they turn 18 to stay out of the foster system, without CPS finding out

when they’re cleaning out their mother’s room, they find letters from their old foster parent who was planning on adopting them before their mother claimed them back - who is still searching for them, and they’re desperate to find her again

autistic, agender, demiromantic acespec MC, genderfluid love interest, SC with tourette’s

[doyouknowthisjewishcharacter]

Do you know these Jewish characters?

[creatively-cosmic]

fuck with me

fuck with meeee

im trying to do different sprite styles and sizing down full drawings to make a base is so fucking dumb looking. christ. also ace not looking like they havent slept in days feels illegal.

on another topic god seeing other pokepasta blogs interact with each other lately has been so fun. i really wanna do that sometime soon... it certainly wouldnt be canon but i havent gotten to see stuff like that circling around since my time in the daily pokemon community! though maybe its just cus of the blogs that i follow that im seeing it now hajnsljkns

[mayordea]

snippet of a miitopia poster i made depicting my team + my evil great sage. in the center is cirno, my protagonist. idk if i will post the poster now, the crossover might be too much. but i do like this portion of the poster the best. maybe i will do it and post it alongside a post of all the job designs i made for them.

[yardsards]

Forever mourning that we would’ve had a scene in the finale where the protagonists apparently reach a resolution with Odalia on some level??? It got cut so Camila could take her place and hell yeah more for Camila, never gonna apologize for that. But man it’d have been nice to have both. The Odalia-Collector storyline set up in CotH was evidently going somewhere there but in the end the finale was already extended ten minutes past the usual mark.

Also yes plsss on the twins! Emira my dearrrrr you were molded into the new Odalia into the next showman matriarch while your sister was meant to become the next Alador the next moneymaker!!! What are your thoughts what if we had a storyline about you being your own person!!! I have to acknowledge that there’s always someone who’s going to have to take the fall for another character to shine at this point in the story but man.

i'm actually mostly happy with how things ended with odalia. i really like that amity never forgives her and continues to go no-contact with her. far too often, media does a "but they're your PARENT, it would be wrong to cut them out of your life" message, and having that be the dominant cultural narrative can be really harmful to victims of parental abuse. so it was VERY refreshing to see a story that said "this character going no contact with her abusive parent was the right choice"

that said, i think there could have been a way to give odalia's storyline more of a resolution without tossing that down message down the drain.

see, you know how i've complained before about how making odalia a full-on villain really undercut her storyline as just an abusive mother. how it accidentally kiiinda had the implication of like "the abuse on its own wasn't enough to cut her off. she had to be willing to kill literally her entire race in order to earn that." which i don't think was intentional.

i think it would have been cool if the resolution to her arc was like. she's no longer a full on villain. she helps our protagonists and makes up for her involvement in the big plot. she's technically on our side now... but that still doesn't make up for the abuse, and amity still is better off without her in her life.

i'm imagining a scene of like, after odalia helps the gang with the collector in some way, she talks to amity. says something like "i will admit that you were right, for once. helping with the day of unity was a poor business decision on my part." and maybe even a "these months with the collector have shown me you weren't such a bad daughter" perhaps followed by a pompous "so i will forgive your little outburst at the factory and accept you as a member of my family again" (despite, y'know, being the one who got cut off)

so amity goes off on her. says it wasn't about the day of unity. or, at least, wasn't JUST about the day of unity. that it was about the years of being treated like a puppet rather than a person (cue some kind of clever shot of the collector's puppets). she says that he friends have shown her what real love is supposed to look like, and her time with camila has shown her how mothers are supposed to treat children, and that none of odalia's actions have matched that. so she says that no, she will not be allowing odalia to be her family anymore.

and odalia doesn't understand, just keeps arguing that she only did these things because she wanted what was best for her family. and so amity leaves.

-

AND YESSS THE TWINS. like. i get it. the show had a lot going on and not a lot of time, of course the protagonist's girlfriend's siblings aren't gonna get that much time dedicated to them. but man. i love me a fucked up family and i want to know more about those two so bad. emira especially. like her twin brother (who, up to that point, had exactly as much relevance as her) got his own episode subplot and she got nothing! and like she interests me for all the reasons you said AND like. she seems to be odalia's favorite (perhaps tied with edric, perhaps even above him) but she seems even more cynical about BOTH of their parents than amity does. AND LIKE she's got eldest daughter syndrome despite being a TWIN! she seems to feel responsibility for looking after her brother who is the exact same age as her! i need to know what's the deal with that dynamic! god the fic ideas and headcanons i have about her that i never got around to writing/finishing

[deoidesign]

Can you make a tutorial on how you world build and make ocs? I can't seem to make any people in my brain, but then when I try to come up with environments jobs, beliefs and little details to slowly come up with someone, I think: well I don't really know how people have influenced the world- it's a weird loop

To be honest, I don't think I can! Writing is an extremely personal process. The way I write is directly related to how I process things, what I find important in stories, years of my own analysis of my and other's writing, etc... The way you write will be unique to you, as well. But I can explain how I personally think of it.

The short answer:

Write. Write anything and everything, it's a tool to explore your ideas. Analyze your own writing, and write more. Then, as you discover which ideas you want to develop, write more to explore them more. You won't know what you want otherwise!

The long answer:

I think this kind of loop is common. It's easy to feel like everything needs to be done "at once," because our job as writers is to make elements logically fit with each other for our readers. But as you've discovered, developing multiple elements simultaneously isn't really possible, or at least is extremely difficult.

Personally, when I think of writing, I break it into three major elements; characters, world, and plot. As much as possible every scene explores one or more of these, and as much as possible these three things tie back into what I personally consider most important: theme.

Everything I do is in service of the themes I want to present. Without them my events feel aimless. It can take a while to discover them, but they're the core of my work. You will have to discover what you feel is the core of yours. Analyzing other media helps with this too.

Concepts in your brain exist in a state of infinite potential. But when you start writing you have to start making choices, which removes potential as you move forward... But you have to move forward anyways. If there's ideas you want to explore later, you can always explore them later.

What this ends up meaning, to answer your question, is that I don't think of my characters as "people in my brain" or my worlds as something people have influenced... Not at their core, at least. They are tools that I use to represent specific ideas. Obviously they're also my blorbos, but mostly they're serving a specific narrative purpose.

So above all else... Write. Write, and discover what you're writing about, and then start over and write with that in mind. Keep doing this. But you have to write!