#i wish we could work together to ensure human safety and survival

[holy-rarepairs-batman]

.

[kayleezra]

Thoroughfare// Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Word Count: 7891

Warnings: Spoilers for the beginning of the game/ episode 1 of the series (character death), swearing and lots of it

Summary: Fic based on the song Thoroughfare by Ethel Cain (please listen to it). First-person POV. Reader and Joel have known each other since childhood but are separate post-outbreak. What happens when they’re reunited and old feelings resurface with the prospect of exploring the West. 

A/N: so I edited this like once but in the spirit of the new episode dropping early today I wanted to post this! Let me know of any errors and/or tags/warnings please and thank you!!!! 

Being alone after the fall of civilization wasn’t the plan, but given the selfishness and brutality of the new world, it was necessary. It was a dog-eat-dog world, even a human-eat-human world. Most survivors I encountered wanted to take everything I had, even if all I had was the skin on my back. Even long-standing groups imploded on themselves at one point or another. It was lonely but safer, no one to turn on you, trade you, or use you. I hadn’t started alone, on the day of the outbreak I was at Joel’s, it was his birthday and even though he worked I ensured there was a hot meal and cake for him no matter how late he got home. Everything went wrong so fast, we lost Sarah and everyone was fending for themselves, not that I blame them. For a while, it was just Joel, Tommy and me, until things got messy. We were ambushed by a group and separated, I haven’t seen either of them since, survival got in the way of finding them. 

I hate not knowing how they’re doing, I grew up with the brothers, I’ve known them for as long as I can remember. Joel and Tommy were hard workers, they were always trying to support themselves and each other. When Joel told me he was going to be a dad I was shocked, he and Amelia had been dating for a couple of years but we were in high school, and I knew it was going to be hard on the both of them. But I was also excited, I’ve always wanted to be an aunt! So I put together a baby shower for Amelia, collected clothing for their soon-to-be daughter and even managed to get them a crib. I was happy for Joel, he always talked about having a family, and wanting that mushy romantic domestic life. I did always harbour a crush on him and wish I could fulfill that for him but was happy nonetheless, he deserved it. They got married after high school at 22, but it was first and young love, it was never meant to last. By 28 he and Amelia had divorced, it was as amicable as possible. They harboured no hard feelings, they both grew and matured and understood it was for the best. 

Now, I’m somewhere out east alone. I find some rocks and trees that can provide my resting body coverage and make myself comfortable for the night. I’m calm, or as calm as I can be. Still on edge and alert for any unwelcome surprises but there's only so long I can go without sleep. I never really set up camp, unless necessary, I never wanted to notify others of my whereabouts, I learnt that the hard way. A lonely traveller is an easy prey for any group of 2 or more.

Exhaustion is what lulls me to sleep, the moment I lay down I’m aware of how tired and sore my body is but I don’t have time to care as I’m pulled into a state of half-consciousness

A low groan, almost a growl, rings through my ears, immediately putting me on high alert. My heart is racing at the sudden prospect of danger, it’s unlikely that one lonely infected has travelled near me. Pulling my pistol from my pocket, I prepare to take out a few infected and escape as soon as possible. My ears strain with the effort of trying to hear anything but it’s pretty quiet. I don’t let my guard down, just because I can’t hear them doesn’t mean they’ve left. Then heavy repetitive footsteps, getting closer. I switch the safety off, I’m about to reveal myself when my brain stops me. These footsteps are too consistent, there’s no fumbling around or fast changes in direction. I strain my ears again, there’s no wheezing or the sound of wet breath that accompanies the spores in the infected’s lungs. They’re human, seemingly alone, which makes people very desperate. I’m conflicted if I take them by surprise or wait them out, taking a human life who hasn’t yet wronged you isn’t easy. But do I want to wait for them to potentially wrong me? The decision is made for me when they painfully fall to the ground next to me. They are a man, with eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted. I run my eyes along him quickly, he’s well equipped but his hands are busy clutching his blood-soaked side. His eyes shoot open, and like I’ve been wounded by his gaze I, “Joel!?!”

His movements stop and his eyes shoot to mine, shocked silence engulfs the two of us. Then I remember he’s injured. 

“Let me help you,” I say giving him a hand and bringing him into the nook that was my resting place mere moments ago. 

He sits propped up, “you wanna tell me what happened and what I’m dealing with?”

“Bullet wound. Ran into a couple of hunters.”

“How far from here?” I ask while digging for medical supplies in my backpack, worried the hunters may still be looking for him.

“You don’t have to worry about them no more. They were scouting the highway.”

“Got it. What kind of medical supplies do you got?”

“Nothin’”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Christ, alright. Okay, I’m gonna lift your shirt and have a look.”

Lifting his tattered green plaid shirt reveals a bloody mess. 

“I’m going to clean the area a bit to see what the damage is, this will probably hurt.”

He nods. Wiping the excess blood and grime gives me good news.

“You sir, are a very lucky man. It’s only a graze. It’s a pretty clean wound which ensured minimal bleeding, the edges are clean. As far as bullet wounds go, this one is a beaut. I’ll clean and bandage it, and then… we’ve got some catching up to do.”

I clean his wound in silence and as the adrenaline leaves his body he becomes lethargic.

“Gotta be honest, I thought you were dead,” Joel mumbles lowly.

“Well, I probably should be. But I thought the same of you. Tommy?”

“Alive as well as I know, he’s got a camp out in Wyoming.”

“West from here,” I add. I don’t know what happened that caused the two to split and I don’t push it. 

“Stay here, I’m going to see what I can raid off those bodies you left on the highway.”

I attempted to get up but am stopped by Joel's hand on my arm.

“You ain’t leaving me are ya?” “I’d never leave you, Joel,” I say a bit more sincerely than I intended but in his exhausted state, he’s likely to forget about it. 

I’m careful on the dark highway, Joel says I didn’t have to worry about the group of hunters but you can never be too sure. Turns out, the hunters were desperate because they had nearly nothing of use on them, even their weapons were looking worse for wear, and they likely wouldn’t have made it another winter as they were. However, one had something that was of more value to you than anything else they could’ve harboured together, a transfer pump. On a highway filled with abandoned cars, we’re guaranteed to get something working and a full tank of gas. 

I make my way back to Joel, he’s barely alert but has enough in him to point his gun at me upon arrival. Raising my hands in defence I reassure him that it’s just me. 

“Rest up, I’ll keep watch. You get busy healing.”

Joel lets out an entertained scoff before allowing exhaustion to take over. 

As the sun begins to rise, its rays wake Joel. He seems slightly confused at first but relaxes when he sees me and remembers last night's events.

“How’re you feeling?” “Pretty good, all things considered,” he says while lifting his shirt and looking at his bandaged wound. The bandage is still clean of any blood or any other excrements which is a good sign. 

“Good because we’ve got a mission.”

“Oh yeah, what's that?” His rough voice asks.

“Getting one of them cars out there to work.”

“Then we better get going.”

We pick a truck that seems to be in order besides a few parts and the fact that it’s blocked in by other cars. 

“You ever fix up a car before? Because you were never a car person before.” Joel asks.

“Nope, and I’m still not but I spent time with a group that did and I learnt enough to escape them so I’m more qualified now. You?”

Joel shakes his head, seemingly thinking of something rather than answering my question. 

God isn’t real, that much is clear given the current state of the world but I might have a guardian angel because, after a few hours, Joel and I are able to get a truck running. We then spend some time pushing other cars out of the way before we’re able to drive. I’m tired, I haven’t slept in days, I was supposed to take a night's rest when Joel stumbled upon me but he needed it more than me and now that things are going to plan my body begins giving out. I look at Joel in the driver's seat, “where are we going?”

“How about West? We go further East and the coast will make some unforgiving winters. Plus, Tommy’s out West.”

“West it is.”

Once he gets us off the crowded highway, he speaks up.

“Get some rest, you need it.”

I smile, “Yeah… I missed you too,” then prop myself against the window and close my eyes. 

I’m softly awoken by Joel's sturdy hand on my thigh and his deep hushed voice, “C’mon baby, let's get some rest.”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, my neck and shoulders sore from the odd position they found themselves in. Joel makes his way to and opens my door, wraps his arm around my waist and leads me out of the truck and towards a long, 2-story building. 

“Where are we?” I ask gruffly.

“An abandoned motel. I’ve already scouted it out, it’s safe.”

I’d normally yell at him for doing something as stupid as clearing a building alone when he has help but I’m too tired. So I lean into Joel and allow him to lead me to a room. Inside is a dingy mattress with some threadbare pillows and blankets, our bags are already stashed under the beaten-up desk, Joel prepped the room before bringing me in, that caring bastard. Joel sits me down on the bed, I fight slumber while watching Joel push random furniture in front of the door and draw the musty curtains over the boarded-up window. Someone was clearly here before us and made it their safe space, I try not to think about what happened to them. 

Joel makes his way to me, I can see a small smile on his face, trying to hide the amusement he’s getting from me fighting to stay awake.

“Lay down, baby. We’re safe.”

I do as he says and Joel sits at the foot of the bed, taking my feet into his lap. He begins to carefully remove my shoes. Suddenly I can keep my eyes open with some ease and I watch him, his steady hands and caring face. My chest fills with a warm radiating love, I haven't seen a man with such soft emotions in his eyes in years. Joel hasn’t been consumed by anger, he’s still human, still a good man. It was touching to see given that most of us were left in a world where there was no one else to leave and no one else to love. Looking at Joel I felt some peace, I didn’t care where we were or where we were going, as long as I was with him. 

Finally, Joel gets up and joins me in bed, he keeps a respectable distance but in my sleepy state, I have the confidence to inch my way against him, spooning him while resting my forehead in between his shoulder blades. I fall asleep with my arms and thoughts filled with my southern sunshine. 

We spend a few days resting before continuing our travels West to Tommy, which sounds like paradise from Joel’s description. 

“How much longer of travelling d we have ahead of us?” “Probably no more than 3 days, we’re close.” “Why’d we stop if were so close?” “Needed the rest, plus there are so cars here that we’ll take the gas from.”

I nod, half believing him. 3 days is nothing it seems odd that he stopped for multiple days for 3 days of travel. Unless the next 3 days are hell…

“Do you know something I don’t?” I ask.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Resting multiple days for 3 days of travel? What’s up ahead that I don’t know about?”

“I hope nothin’”

“But there was something?”

“No, look I just- I thought we could use the rest, you’re complicatin’ it”

I’m still skeptical but I let it go. Joel’s being weird, sure we were tired, we always were but you had to trudge on to survive. 

“Let’s go,” he says while getting up and grabbing his things to leave. 

Joel hands me my backpack, I let out a quiet ‘thanks’ shy under his direct gaze. 

“We’ve got some gas to steal,” I say while we leave, distracting myself. I hear Joel let out a scoff to cover his laugh. A smile takes over my face in pride knowing I can still make the man laugh, a laugh I’d kill to hear more often. When we step out of the motel, the morning sun is warm and welcoming. I feel… new. I’m not one for ‘signs from the universe’ but the sunrise and its accompanying warmth gave me this sense that this was a new beginning and that things are going to be okay. I stop to bask in it, letting the sun warm my face and seep into my bones. Joel stops beside me and when I look to him he’s also taken by the sunrise. He looks almost at peace, like in this brief moment the war in his head, heartbreak from his past, and the worry of tomorrow, have all quieted down, allowing him a moment of enjoyment. He looks so pretty. The moment ends and Joel looks at me, catching me staring. 

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, I just- You look-.” I take a breath, trying to collect myself while my mind swarms with thousands of things I want to say to him. “I’m just… really happy to have found you again.”

I’m too scared to allow him to respond or even react because I’m already walking away, “c’mon we’re getting gas, remember?”

Joel spends 20 hours driving, he's tired and fighting sleep. 

“Joel let me drive, I promise not to crash and I’ll wake you if we die.”

He smiles, glancing at me, “you know where we’re going?”

Shit. “No…”

Joel laughs at my realization.

“We’ll show me on a map! Then I’ll follow that.” I explain excitedly.

“Aren’t you ‘map blind’ as you always put it?”

Just then, Joel and I are years younger, pre-outbreak young. We’re each other's rocks, constantly teasing one another while never letting the other fall.

“You remember that?”

“Course I do, you couldn’t read that damn map even if there was a ‘you’re here’ sticker on it. You gawked at that thing like I handed you an old scripture in hieroglyphics.”

Joel looks young, the recounting of that story releasing the constant stress in his face and body. 

“You had it upside down.”

I can’t help but laugh, I did have it upside down. And even in an apocalypse, I am still map blind. However, Joel remembering such a trivial moment in our time together in our past life has me astounded. In a world where life, as you know it is flipped upside down and your daughter is taken from you while still in your arms… it’s hard to imagine those moments still taking up space in his memory. 

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” “I don't know because there's so much happening all the time and there's other things that are more worthy of being remembered.”

Joel's face falls, his eyes follow suit, looking at the ground. My name falls from his mouth like a whispered prayer, scared that if it can be heard by the human ear it’ll be tainted. “I held onto every memory of you because sometimes… sometimes it’s one of the few things that keeps me going. I treasured our time together then but now? Now, I hold onto those memories because they remind me of who I was, they ground me, and remind me of how there was so much good in the world.”

He stops but there are still words that are stuck on his tongue, “I thought I lost you for good. Tommy and I- we looked for you but you know how it goes. I accepted that you- that you were no longer a part of this cold and selfish world and yet… here you are. And you still have that warm smile, you’ve kept the damned sense of humour and you’re just as snarky, if not more so, than before.”

My eyes are hot with tears, not the usual tears of loss or frustration or hopelessness but tears of love. I love this man. I loved him then and I love him now and I don’t know if anything could ever change that. I quickly wipe a defiant tear as if he wouldn’t see it. My overwhelming emotions leave me unable to speak, so I don’t, instead, I take his hand in mine. I hold him like a loving partner holding their sick lover's hand to provide comfort, I hold him like my life depended on it, I hold him like he’s my everything because he is. 

“You’re one sappy son of a bitch, Joel Miler,” I say quietly.

His chest rumbles with a low chuckle, and his warm thumb smooths over my hand. I relish in the moment of intimacy. Loving intimacy is harder to come by than kindness in this world even in something as small as hand-holding. I think it is more likely that I read a map correctly than I come in contact with regular loving intimacy. Everyone is touch starved and yet no one is willing to be vulnerable enough to provide that touch because people are too selfish for it to be a safe and wholesome act, because one that is often abused and adulterated.

“Only for you, darlin’”

“Well then let’s pull over so you can get some sleep,” I then bring his hand to my lips and give him a small kiss. 

Joel hides us in some foliage, trying to ensure we don’t stick out like easy prey out in the open. We fold the back seats and do our best to make the musty upholstery comfortable, not that it’s the worst place either of us has slept. The sun will rise in a couple hours and in dead spaces like this? That signals a sort of quiet. Most hunters move at night in these areas, trying to catch innocents off guard while they’re trying to rest. Travellers move as fast as they can in the night thinking danger will be asleep. The world is a free-for-all but when the sun sets? It becomes a war against you and every other thing, living or not. 

“I’ll keep watch, you rest,” I tell Joel.

“Ain’t you tired?”

“I got some sleep in the car, plus if I really need it, I can sleep when we’re on the road again.”

I sit myself up against the back of the driver's seat, placing different clothing items in my lap, “come on, I promise not to fall asleep,” I tell Joel, gesturing to the makeshift pillow I’ve made with my lap and clothing. 

Wordlessly Joel situates himself, laying on his back with his head in my lap, groaning when his body relaxes and he becomes aware of the tired and sore muscles within his body. Something is missing… 

“Oh,” I begin ruffling through my bag, “here,” I pull a blanket from my bag and place it over Joel’s body. The blanket is worn out but it’s more for the comfort of having than it is for warmth. A soft, barely audible ‘thank you’ escapes Joel.

With the man's eyes closed I selfishly stare, taking in his face. Theres more lines than there were before which I expect after 20 years but they’re not where I want them to be. Instead of crow's feet from a smile reaching his eyes he has wrinkles between his brows from having them furrowed too often.  In place of smile lines, he has frown lines, lines that tell a story of a resilient man living a hard life. Even with his eyes closed he still holds the face of a hardened man. His hair and facial hair are peppered with grey and even in a world s dirty as this I can’t help but run my hands through it. At first, Joel tenses, a reflex nearly everyone has developed to stay alive. But when his mind reminds him it is the hand of the person whose lap he rests his head in, he relaxes. Joel not only relaxes to post-outbreak Joel but, after a few moments, to pre-outbreak Joel. All the lines and wrinkles in his face soften, he doesn’t look young like you often hear, but he looks calmer. In my lap is a man whose gone through hell and back and is finally letting a couple walls down after decades of hardship, he almost looks relieved.  His hair tells me the same thing as his face, caked with dirt and oil and tangled from years of neglect and unrelenting weather, he’s a man who’s been stretched far too thin. I continue running my fingers through his hair during the hours that he sleeps no matter how ‘gross’ it is because the truth is, my fingers are just as covered with the survival of this world. In this musty truck with our unwashed bodies and difficult pasts, things almost feel normal, the birds sing and rise with the sun and I can almost imagine we’re on Joel’s old tattered couch, having stayed up late to watch a movie only to have one of us pass out before the climax. 

Unfortunately, the man only sleeps a handful of hours, it’s not even mid-day when he wakes. Although it’s probably the longest he’s slept in a while and the first time he’s woken up peacefully, not in a panic or with an impending task looming over his head. Joel is pulled from his slumber not because he’s well rested but because our minds are never completely at rest, we don’t have time to be so vulnerable for so long. His eyes, still filled with sleep, look for mine immediately, like he knows rationally I’m still here because his head is still in a warm lap but he’s scared that it’s an illusion and he’ll break that illusion when he opens his eyes and doesn’t find mine. When the illusion doesn’t disappear, I speak up, “Morning, southern sunshine.”

“Southern sunshine?”

“Yeah, 'cause you’re from Texas and… you always brighten my day,” I shrug. An amused scoff escapes him while he sits up, blocking me from seeing his face.

“You, my dear, are too sweet for me.”

“Why? Can’t handle it?” I tease.

“Don’t deserve it,” his voice is a little lower with those words, they’re filled with doubt.

“Well, that’s ain’t true. You deserved it then and you deserve it now more than ever. I might not know the horrors that haunt your past in between then and now, but… I know Joel Miller and he’s more deserving of someone's unyielding love and affection more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

He looks over his shoulder at me, face heavy with a mix of disbelief and self-hatred: a look he shouldn’t hold. My brows crease with worry and sadness, I slowly place my hand on his cheek like he’s a scared animal that might run if I move too fast. Instead, he leans into it for a moment before taking my wrist in his hand and pulling my palm to his lips where he kisses me. Still holding my hand between the two of us he gives me a small smile. Not a happy or grateful smile but a doleful one, one that says ‘this can’t continue, we have to keep going, there’s no time for us’. So, silently that's what we do, we get back on the road and continue West.

The remaining drive is relatively quiet, a mix of comfortable and awkward silence, like sometimes we don’t what to do with ourselves regarding the idea or possibility of us. Then it dawns on me, after years of not knowing I’ll (hopefully) get to see Tommy. I’m not sure if I sigh or mumble or if there’s just a shift in the air but Joel turns to me, then back at the road and back at me pensively. 

“What’s wrong?”

I take s deep breath, “I’ll get to see Tommy,” my voice is soft like if I say it too decisively I’d jinx it. Joel hums in response.

Holy fucking shit. The outbreak took nearly everything from everyone, but two of my loved ones were still alive and I’m about to be reunited with both of them. People I love unconditionally, that I spent days with together, people I lost for years and grieved, are alive and returning to my life. I’m overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, I’m ecstatic to see them again, I’ve been given a second life with them, and I love them and want them back in my life. My heart is filled with happiness and loves but my chest is heavy with fear. I’m scared, scared of how our relationship has changed, scared of how different the past has changed us, scared to lose them again. My body is hot like it’s overworked with the flood of emotions, and they’re just boiling to the surface. Slow tears reluctantly sting my face.

“Hey hey hey hey hey, what’s going on?” Joel asks confused.

I snap my head towards him with fearful eyes, like a deer looking at the driver that’s about to hit them, “I’m not ready!”

“What do you mean ‘you’re not ready’?”

That question opens the floodgate to the storm that is in my mind.

“I’ve been alone for years. Years! I’m completely independent, I don’t need anyone and I tricked myself into believing that I don’t want anyone.  And-and-and we’ve all changed, we’ve all done things we thought impossible for us before, and we’ve all done things that haunt us. What if- what if that’s changed us so much that the person I know from before is dead and someone new is occupying the body I’m familiar with? I want things to be how they were but they’re not going to be and I don’t know what that means. And we’ve lived different lives now that-…”

“Do you hate me?”

Joel interrupts and shocks me, “wha- no, why on earth would you think that?!”

“Well, you seem so worried that things will be so different we won’t be able to be a family like we once were. Yet, here are the two of us…” 

Closer than ever.

He doesn’t finish the sentence like he’s unsure of the right words to use. Neither of us explicitly acknowledging what’s between us.

“Things are different. They have to be. We’ve all lost so much, including pieces of our old selves, but, I know that I still love you… and Tommy… but don’t tell him I told you that.”

I laugh at Joel’s brotherly love but my mind raves with how he stopped with me, like adding Tommy was an afterthought.

I didn't realize Joel rested his warm hand on my thigh until he gives it a squeeze, I don’t know how long it’s been there but I welcome the comfort as it calms the sea within me.

“Right…” I take hold of his hand kissing it as I did before and keeping it in my grasp. There are a few moments of silence as Joel allows me to calm down.

“Tommy’s gonna lose his damn mind when he sees you.”

The two of us can’t help but laugh not so much at Joel's comment but at the rarity of it all, what are the odds we would find each other again.

We drive over a small hill, revealing a fenced civilization in the lowland.

“Hooollly shit…” I breathe, “it’s a whole city…”

“Sure is. Guess he didn’t do too bad.”

I let out an incredulous laugh, “they have electricity?”

“Yup.”

“Hot water?” “Mhmm.”

I fall silent in disbelief and overwhelming joy, “I haven’t had a proper shower in… years.” “I can tell,” Joel jokes.

I shove his arm, “watch it southern sunshine, you’re pretty ripe too.”

Joel chuckles. 

At the gates we’re asked who we are, Joel explains but they’re still skeptical. 

“Just get Tommy,” Joel says.

“Tommy’s busy.”

Joel scoffs, and mumbles a ‘busy my ass’ to himself. 

“Alright then get Maria, she’ll have questions anyway.”

“I don-”

“Boy, do you want me to have to explain to her how you refused to get her and made a big fuss outta something that should’ve been finished already?” The man behind the gate disappears, likely to get this Maria.

“Who’s Mari-”

I’m cut off by a woman shouting in a calm yet authoritative voice, “LET HIM IN!” 

When my eyes land on the woman I see she's waving us in motioning for the others to open the gates. As we wait for the gate to open, I nod towards the woman, “Maria?”

“Yup.”

“I like her.”

Again Joel chuckles, “You ain’t even met her yet.” “True but I like her, I can feel it.”

“Well, you ain’t wrong. You’ll definitely get on with her,” I smile at Joel’s words while he pauses, “which is what I’m worried about,” he finishes. 

Maria gives us a quick motion telling Joel where to park, when the truck's engine stops filling my ears I realize how nervous I am again. Joel grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze, “C’mon don’t you want that shower? You certainly need it.”

He hopes out of the truck before I can berate him. I make my way around the vehicle next to Joel.

“Been a while,” Maria opens. 

“Yeah, I know. Trying to stay alive seems to take up most of my time,” he shrugs. 

“And you?” she asks me. 

“Oh-”

“This-,” Joel attempts to answer but Maria stops him, “I didn’t ask you.”

Joel stops and almost visibly cowers, his head downcast like a kid in trouble. 

When my name leaves my lips a look of shock passes over Maria’s face.

“Well I’ll be damned, Tommy might just shit himself.” Joel and I chuckle but mine’s more in confusion. “Y-you know of me?” “Pfft, course I do. You kept these two idiots alive before shit hit the fan.”

At that, I let out a genuine chuckle. 

“Tommy’s on patrol so let me get yall settled til then.” She begins walking and we follow.

We were welcomed so fast it goes against everything I’ve come to learn in the last few years. I lean towards Joel whispering, “are they not going to check if we’re infected?” “Generally? Yes, they would. But given that it's me and you? They trust us. Plus last I checked we haven’t been bitten, so what’re you worryin’ for?”

At that, I shrug, it's just instinct to be weary of everyone all the time. 

Maria brings us to a house, not a completely run-down house, not a building that will suffice as a shelter for a short period, but an uninhabited home.  

“Get cleaned up and by then Tommy should be back. Meet at ours for 3?” Maria asks, although I get the sense she’s not really asking. 

Joel nods. 

“There are some clothes in the hallway closet, have at em’ wouldn’t make sense for yall to shower and get back into dirty clothes. “

“Thank you, Maria,” I cut in. 

“Of course. Can’t wait to see Tommy’s face,” and with that, she turns off the porch and leaves us. 

Joel closes the door and begins dropping his things, “go on and shower, just don’t use all the hot water, yeah?”

‘First of all, if I’m getting into a running shower with hot water… not only am I using it all but I might just cause a drought. Second, why don’t you join me?” All confidence I had prior to making the offer is gone and I’m left wondering why the hell I opened my big mouth like that. Joel clears his throat, “I- uh-”

“I didn’t mean- just like- the water is warm and then no one has to fight and water conservation and all that and I-”

I’m too busy babbling to realize that Joel is watching me with an amused smirk before letting out a chuckle that brings me back to earth. 

“I know what you meant darlin’, I was gonna say I’d like that.”

“Oh…”

“C’mon we’ve got some warm water and real soap calling our names,” he says while leading the way.

I’m surprised he said yes. I mean throughout our journey here we’ve shared some affectionate moments, even before the outbreak we did. But the Joel I knew then was pretty closed off and pales in comparison to the Joel I met a few months ago. We beat around the bush, never explicitly mentioning what we’re doing or what we may be. I know with his divorce, the loss of Sarah and just who Joel is that he doesn’t come by commitment and intimacy easily. The outbreak has changed us all and for Joel that meant protecting his heart a little more than before in fear of how the world may strip him of what he loves again. So… I don’t push him, I love him however he’ll let me and accept whatever he’s willing to give me because I know the Joel inside his rugged exterior and he’s worth waiting for. I let him lead us upstairs to the bathroom, the calmness and security of the house brings back a domestic Joel that I’ve missed. Joel starts the shower before leaning over me, “Why don’t you get a head start and I’ll go get us some clothes,” then he leans in and kisses my cheek and all I can do is nod in adoration. 

While Joel leaves to get us the clothes, I strip off my grimy ones and get into the stream of hot water. I groan escapes my lips as the hot water cascades down my body, already cleaning better than the attempts I’ve made over the years. My muscles yearn for the relaxation and healing that comes with its warmth. The cleanliness of the water makes me aware of how dirty I am and feel. I reach for the bar of soap, lifting it to my nose and smelling the notes of lemon and mint, someone here has worked hard to make these bars. I begin to lather my body in the velvety luxury, the steam of the shower accentuating the soap's scent. I’m so caught up in myself I don’t realize Joel’s returned until he’s joining me in the shower. He presses himself against my back and wraps his arms around my waist. We close our eyes savouring the moment that almost replicates something that could have been before the outbreak. I turn us around so Joel can be in the stream of water. While facing me with his hands on my waist, I take some shampoo in my hands and begin emulsifying it in his hair. I massage his scalp for a while, lifting the stubborn dirt while relaxing him, using my nails I give him some light scratches, refreshing the follicles and gifting the nerves a tingling sensation. A few groans escape him when I reach particular points but this moment is nothing but pure. I drop my hands from his head, keeping them on his shoulders. When Joel tilts his head back into the stream of water I return my hands to the base of his scalp slowly massaging the soapy water from it. Throughout this, his eyes remain closed in blissful indulgence. 

When his hair is clean, he turns us around and washes my hair. My arms remain wrapped around his shoulders while his hands make careful movements, his face softens and his eyes remain lovingly trained on my hair. He spends some extra time lathering, just playing with my soaped-up hair. When I tilt my head into the stream of water he kisses my forehead, I open my eyes to find his looking into mine tenderly. We freeze for a moment, both scared to make the next move. 

“Tell me I can kiss you,” I whisper.

A corner of his lips quirk upwards, “Anytime darlin’,” he says while leaning in and joining our lips together. The kiss isn’t lewd or filled with sexual tension but filled with fearful love. Love that can appear so quiet but wreaks havoc inside the individual, a cyclone of fear that your love may leave, move on or end up entangled in a worse fate. Love that hurts the beholder with its overwhelming size, that one may bust at the seams at any moment because their body just can’t contain it. We spend time so wrapped up in each other, so much said without a word being spoken, that the water begins to lose its warmth. 

“Go get dressed, I’ll finish up and join you,” Joel utters in a hushed tone. 

I nod and peck his lips once more before reluctantly leaving him. 

In the bedroom, I find warm clothes: sweatpants that aren’t tattered, they still have the soft fluffy cotton on the inside; a large t-shirt that doesn’t have more than the necessary 4 holes; and a woolly cardigan that isn’t holding so much moisture that it’s its own breeding ground for mould and bacteria. 

When Joel comes out and dresses, it’s time for us to make our way to Maria and Tommy’s. I’m still nervous, my stomach is twisted in excitement and anxiety. When we arrive on the porch I suddenly feel uplifted. “Wait! You open the door and I’ll stay hidden before revealing myself, don’t tell him anything!”

Joel chuckles, “you really do wanna give the man a heart attack.”

I press myself against the house behind the screen door, Joel knocks and inside we hear his muddled voice, “Who the hell is that?”

Maria doesn’t say anything or if she does we don’t hear it. Then the door opens and a heavy silence drops before Tommy speaks, “Son of a bitch, who let this old fuck in!”

The brothers embrace one another and then I make my way around the door, “If you’re that shocked to see him wait till you realize that I’m here too.”

Tommy's eyes widen, for a split second I think they’ll pop. He, in brotherly fashion, quickly removes himself from Joel and pushes him aside. 

“This ain’t real,” he says while standing in front of me.

“I can hit you if you’d like, if not to convince you then for old time's sake?”

“Oh my god,” Tommy says while laughing in disbelief. He tightly wraps his arms around me, when he lets go his hands remain gripping my shoulders looking at me like he had to double-check if things were true. 

“Holy shit…”

I laugh and see Maria leaning in the doorway with a smile on her lips, I return the gesture. 

“Well… aren’t you going to let us in or keep us out here on the porch like some stays?” I tease. 

The evening passes fast, turns out we had a lot of catching up to fit in in the few hours that was dinner. Everyone has a smile on their face and exited disbelief in their eyes. When dinner is finished I get up to help Maria, which she attempts to decline. “Maria, c’mon? You welcomed us, gave me some of the best clothes I’ve worn in years along with a hot shower and filled our stomachs with delicious food. I wasn’t asking.”

My authoritativeness seems to impress and please her as she just gives me a smile and walks into the kitchen. 

“We’ll let the boys catch up on whatever it is those two get up to,” Maria yells from the kitchen.

I laugh and join her, “You heard the woman, go on, get!”

The Miller brothers leave to sit outside on the porch while Maria and I fall into easy conversation about ourselves and how we found ourselves in the Miller's lives. 

“So how long have you and Joel been together?” “Oh- it’s not- we’re not-”

Maria laughs as I stumble to find the right words, “Okay so Mr. Scared of commitment hasn’t officially labelled it. But, you’re together. So, how long?”

“Oh…uh… I don’t know, we were reunited a few months ago but-”

Maria chuckles, “Oh my dear, you really are blind aren’t you?” “What?”

“I don’t mean when you reunited or when did you guys start being more affectionate or anything like that. I mean, how long have the two of you been in love?” I’m dumbfounded, what does she know that I don’t?

“That man has been in love with you forever. Now I’m not basing this off the fact that he looks at you like he’s afraid to let you go even for a second or the fact that his entire demeanour lightens when he looks at you. Even Tommy knows, he watched you two lovebirds beat around the bush for years I think you referred to you two as ‘a couple of love-sick puppies’. You’ve been in love before the outbreak, yes?” “Yes,” I shyly admit. 

“And Joel has loved you for just as long if not longer. You may not see it but it’s true and in this world, we don’t have time to deny ourselves of any love we may have a chance at. Don’t let him believe he can go about this world as a lone wolf forever.”

~~~ JOEL’S POV ~~~ 

The sun is setting, taking its warmth with it. Tommy and I sit in silence, not because there’s nothing to say but because we’ve got so much to say and don’t know where to start. Both of us sipping our respective drinks. “Can’t believe they’re alive… or that we’ve all been reunited,” Tommy says.

“You and me both.”

“You better not blow this again,” Tommy said while taking a sip from his glass.

“What d’ya mean?”

Tommy scoffs, “You might be my older brother but you really are an idiot. Don’t let them get away again, we don’t normally get second chances in this life. You’ve been handed a second chance on a fucking silver platter. I love you but if you fuck this up?” Tommy finishes with a scoff. 

There’s a heavy silence for a few moments before Tommy presses on.

“You love them.”

“Is that supposed to be a question?” “No, you do love them. I ain’t asking. I want you to accept it and, for the love of god, admit it.”

“ I don’t kn-” “Oh cut the shit, Joel. You’ve been in love for years, before this damn virus. I watched the two of you act like a damn couple but then have these moments of… weird, awkwardness as if you’ve just realized what you’ve done and are like ‘oh yeah we’re not actually together better backtrack a bit’. I mean for fucks sake just admit it, tell them, be together.”

I sigh. I know I love them and that I’m in love with them, but admitting it opens me to the possibility of losing them and I’ve lost too many to want to open myself to that hurt again. But he’s right, I’ve been given another chance. The apocalypse separated us and has nearly liked us dozens of times but then we were accidentally reunited. I’ve spent months with them, sharing close proximity and moments of loving affection. How can I be so stupid, in closing myself off I nearly lost them while trying to avoid just that. 

“Fuck…” I murmur.

“Go on, go get them.”

I quickly get up, entering the house with urgency. 

~~~ YOUR POV ~~~    

The front door opens with a sense of urgency. Maria and I turn towards the sound and heavy boots bring Joel in. 

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Can I uh, steal them?” Joel asks Maria.

She smiles and pops a hip out, leaning against the counter, “it’s about time,” Maria nods me towards him.

I join him and while we’re leaving out the front door Tommy enters the house, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder. Joel has a nervous air around him and he grabs my arm and urgently takes me onto the porch. When the door closes I speak out.

“Joel what the hell are you-”

I stopped when Joel grabs my face in his hands and kisses me. This kiss is urgent, filled with a passion of gratitude and unease. When we release Joel doesn’t pull away far.

“Joel what-”

“I need you to know something,” he interrupts quickly, he takes a breath and continues in a slower calmer manner, “I’ve spent so much time with you, shared so many memories with you, and you might not be my love but honestly? I doubt it. I love you. I’ve always loved you, you’re my family and I’m no longer going to push you away in fear of losing you because I’ll lose you by doing that. I’d rather fear losing you, having loved you rather than losing you anyways and wondering what could have been.”

“Oh Joel,” I say with a soft sigh, “You think I would have agreed to get in the damn pick-up with you with nothing but what was on us and some dumb luck if I didn’t love you?”

Joel smiles, “Hey, do you want to explore the west with me?” he ends by motioning between us and with a teasing tone.

“I’ve spent a lot of time without love and a lot of time with you, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to explore the two together.”

We share a small kiss, “it only took an apocalypse for us to get together,” I laugh.

“That might be true but I’m happy we got here.”

“Me too… We don’t actually have to go West, right? Like that was a metaphor,”

Joel laughs at me, “Yeah baby, I mean I’m happy as long as we’re together but if you don’t want to stay-”

“No, no. I want to stay. We’re staying.” “Good.”

We watch the last bit of the sunset in each other's arms. We don’t know what tomorrow holds but we’ll figure that out and we’ll do it together. 

Taglist: ​​@spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @writer-darling @avengetheunnatural @louderfortheback @Currentobsessionrabbithole

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[ladylvck]

"Ladies and gentleman...welcome to our little party!"

The atmosphere was lively, filled with talking and the soft chinking of fragile champagne glasses. Beautiful people mingling together in some of their best and glamorous outfits. Most quieted down when Puck took the stage with a grand sweep of his arms and a characteristic Chesire cat grin.

"Are you having a lovely evening?" he asked, to the answer of a few good natured and polite cheers. "The grand event is about to start soon, are you excited? Once I again, I am Admin Puck, your master of ceremonies for our fourth annual Hunt!"

Extensive underground facilities ensured no one could butt in; only those with invitations were allowed in. Any interlopers or uninvited plus ones had their minds wiped by a Psychic Pokemon and the offending invitee also summarily punished, though this rarely happened after the first few who did were made examples of.

For all their glitz and glamour, the members of the Lady Luck Lounges were still hardcore criminals, after all.

On stage came down a screen from the ceiling. There was static for a moment before images showed up. Eight people in total showed up on different feeds, bound, gagged and blindfolded. Some were still knocked out, others were struggling and screaming uselessly against their gags -- yet all who gathered did not seem perturbed, actually there were scattered chuckles and remarks of 'oh, that one's feisty!'

Puck took the time to introduce each 'contestant'. Other criminals they rounded up on their own and a few actually 'volunteered' by members of the audience; people who would not be missed if they went missing. Yet all were carefully selected by Puck, for maximum ;fun' as he liked to put it.

The Hunt was a yearly event he held for the criminal underground where lives were put on the line. Those able to pay the hefty price (and signing a waiver) would be allowed to hunt and chase down the contestants within a time limit. It was a riveting game of cat and mouse where the hunters usually came out on top, getting the thrill of being able to hurt, kill and main to their heart's content in a 'safe' environment. In the underground Lounge facility there would be no sudden raids or police presence or hope for someone to come and save the contestants.

And the people soon to be running for their lives, scrambling to grab what they could to survive, disregarding the others in a bid to survive along rather than working together? Well, survivors get the chance of a lifetime: a new life. A fresh start. A new identity, if only they can survive after the last second ticks. The only rule for them was to stay alive. Whatever else they decided was up to them, which made for a much more fun game.

The hunting grounds was a simulated forest area with equipment scattered throughout...along with traps. Those wishing to become hunters would have immediate access to whatever they'd like from a prepared arsenal. It was amazing to see what people picked out, at times.

Puck spoke with gusto, like a reality TV show host might, about people trying to win a prize. He made jokes, tickling his audience about the bad habits of one contestant, before moving onto the faults of another. Make it so there should be no guilt -- these were absolute scum after all and this is their trial by fire, speaking out to the hearts of those who were here while touting a 'noble' heart.

How fun the contradictions of humanity, while staring in the face of cruelty.

"...And of course, the rest of you can take your seats and watch from the safety of this reception hall. If you would like to make bets, we of course have our professional bookies ready to accommodate your little vice -- I hear contestant #6 has some very interesting odds. Why not bet on him? I hear he's a former Rocket!"

And with the last warnings given ("Don't forget to pick up a bullet proof jacket, hunters! Safety first!"), Puck bowed one last time before announcing to his audience and over the speakers inside the cells housing this year's prey,

"Let the hunt begin!"

[rainbowywitch]

I am motaz a nurse from Gaza .. married to fedaa a pediatrician .. father of 3 lovely children ..

writing to you these words with tearing eye and a heavy heart ..

it is not easy for me to ask for help from other but being a father of these lovely kids makes me very responsible for their safety and protection so i have to do any thing to keep them safe ..

we lost every thing because of this violent war !

Life here became unaffordale and unsafe for any human ..

please please help me carry my children to safety ..

i wish my words could explain even little abit of what i am carring in my heart

Please donate if you can and share widely 🆘🆘 1100 SEK = 100 dollars each (55 sek =5$) will make a difference🙏🍉 be the one who saves us

Vetted by 90-ghost

https://gofund.me/98315a59

My name is Mohamed Jadalhaq, and I currently reside in Sweden. I am reaching out to you today with a sincere plea for assistance. I have initiated a fundraising campaign with the goal of facilitating the safe departure of my brother's family from Gaza to Egypt or any other country where they can find refuge and ensure their safety. The current situation now is quoted from the hadith of my brother Motaz Hello! My name is Motaz Jad Al-Haq, and I am a nurse from Gaza. I am married to Fedaa Al-Nadi, a pediatrician, and together we have three beautiful children: Mohammed (9 years), Omar (7 years), and Nima (4 years). I am reaching out to you with a heartfelt plea for assistance, not just for my family but for the many others facing similar hardships in our region. Since October 7th, the war in Gaza has had a devastating impact on our lives. Our home has been destroyed, our jobs are lost, and everything we once had has been reduced to rubble. Each day, my wife and I volunteer at a local hospital, trying to provide care to the injured and alleviate their suffering. Despite our tireless efforts, neither of us receives any salary, and we are left to live in dire conditions. We have been displaced multiple times, and we now face the daily struggle of securing basic necessities like food and clean water. The reality of our situation is heartbreaking. Every day, we wake up not knowing how we will manage to feed our children or provide them with clean water. This constant anxiety and fear weigh heavily on us, making every day a battle for survival. In addition to our personal struggles, my brother Mohamed Jadalhaq, who resides in Sweden, has initiated a fundraising campaign to help facilitate the safe departure of my family from Gaza. The situation here has deteriorated to the point where finding a safe haven has become a matter of utmost urgency. My brother’s campaign aims to raise funds necessary for us to leave Gaza and find refuge in a safer country, such as Egypt. The estimated cost for this escape is $5000 per adult and $2500 per child. The funds will be used to cover travel expenses and basic living costs in Egypt until we can rebuild our lives away from the ongoing conflict. Throughout this crisis, our family has shown remarkable resilience. Despite the destruction and emotional toll, we continue to support our community in any way we can. My wife, Fedaa, faces immense psychological pressure as she works tirelessly to provide medical care to children in need. My role as a nurse has also been challenging, but we remain committed to helping those affected by the war. We kindly ask for your support to make this journey possible. Your donations, no matter how small, can make a significant difference. They can provide us with a meal, a clean water bottle, or a moment of safety in these difficult times. Each contribution brings hope and alleviates our suffering, giving us strength to face another day. Please consider donating to this cause and sharing our campaign with your friends and family. Your generosity can offer us the opportunity to escape this turmoil and find a more secure environment where we can begin to rebuild our lives. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your kindness and support. Your compassion can truly transform our lives and bring us hope for a brighter future. Warm regards, Motaz Jad Al-Haq

[lunarsilkscreen]

Mercantiles and Capitalism (or why capitals rely so heavily on socialism)

I'm going to frame this as a non-historically accurate story on mercantiles. I know I do that for everything. But I feel the need to explain that the overall sentiment in trying to convey is easier than being 100% factually accurate.

When humans started farming, we eventually started trading the things that we grew, including the tools used to farm easier and quicker. This is where the government comes into play. We needed a way to ensure disputes were settled, and that people were paid in something if something they made or grew was taken. Or fending off wild animals. Or any number of things that come out when you get enough people together.

Basically, farming and everything that supported farming, were how humans survived. And food and the tools to grow that food were currency. Until we started mining minerals to use as monetary currency to represent the trade and storage of value to use where we needed it. Petty cash.

You can't eat money, it has no other use besides an intermediary between purchasing and selling goods. But we as people, also used money as ornamentation. Jewelery, which represents a store of wealth, and could be sold off when times got hard.

Or stolen, by people who times were hard for. But in a small enough community, with customized unique jewelry, it was probably pretty clear who you stole it from. (📍)

Tribes built thriving cities, and then these cities saw that other cities had other goods to trade. So the mercantiles were created. Merchandise you couldn't get without leaving town on a journey had a high value between cities.

But again, when times get hard for somebody. Or it's more valuable to steal from somebody than do the work... (📍)

And so the mercantiles needed protections and support from their own government, and the government in the next city over. And in some cases, insurance, should their valuables be lost in transit.

And the government's role started including communicating with other cities, and creating connecting roadways, and taking on the costs of mercenaries that would be used to protect caravans. To make trading between cities cheaper, easier, and accessible to individuals.

This line of government support is what's behind the basis of socialism. Without Socialism, Capitalism is inaccessible, because it encourages fighting and theft between groups. (📍)

As cities grew and thrived from trade, we get to city-states, states, and countries. And you can see as the needed government size grows. All to encourage capitalist pursuits. Making it more affordable and accessible to the individuals who wish to participate.

And, in return, the individuals also get a voice in how their governments are run, so that they may raise issues that need addressing. Without the voice of the individuals, there can be no government. Without government, there is no socialism, and without Socialism, there can be no trade, risk taking, or capitalism.

Everytime that Capitalism has failed, everytime the technological advancement was hindered, has always been when the individuals rights were taken away. Slavery, for example, has a long history of "generating" money by owning other people. And, had the south won the civil war, would've put a halt in the industrial resolution in the U.S. (📍)

Every time individual rights are on the chopping block, or every time they're ignored for profit, we see halt in technological advancement and growth. And every time we see it resume is whenever there's war where the stakes are individual rights. As in Germany with the Jews. Or the U.S. with the Japanese, and later the Muslims.

This is an unquestionable fact: That individuals rights need protection, because when we don't have them, human progress stops.

Without Socialism, we don't have Capitalism, and without real capitalism, the real ability for an individual to take a risk, without a safety net so they can try again, from the bottom if they must, we have no technological advancement.

Stagnation occurs, and people rely on manipulating levers, like corporate Lobbyists, patents and copyrights held far longer than a single humans life span, inaccessible property, and manipulation of the stock market. They all hinder the risk individuals can take, and thus hinder humanity as a whole.

Today, we need the Government to do two things. Bring our cultures together, and protect individual rights. There will always be disputes, and that's why we need individual voices to be heard by the governments of the world, because what we have isn't currently profitable for anybody.

But what is profitable, is taking rights away from individuals. (📍)

[eltares]

Obey me fanfic idea / prompt / mini

Feel free to use this in any way you want.

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

Barbatos had difficulty supressing a sigh. This was not how he hoped his evening would go: leaning over the map of Devildom with a red marker and with the future human exchange student at his side. The initial plan was to have both human students be guarded by high ranking demons, however Solomon had claimed to be powerful enough, and adult enough, as to not to need a babysitter. Neither Barbatos, nor Lucifer could find a good enough counter argument, so here Barbatos was: marking areas of Devildom as off-limits to humans in general, and Solomon in particular. Solomon had already signed a waiver stating that Devildom held no responsibility over his impending death, as Solomon refused security personnel to attend to him. He had also agreed to live in the same dorm as the angel students, who would be the first to claim that anything that might befall the human would be Lord Diavolo’s fault. Barbatos held a silent hope that the angels would keep an eye out for the human. Not all demons supported Lord Diavolo and his insane plan to draw the three realms closer together. And there was no easier way to prevent it from happening than having one of the exchange students be killed or severely injured. Lord Diavolo had personally guaranteed the safety of all exchange students, and it was Barbatos’s task to bring that into reality. Perhaps he should make a pact with this human after all, so he can be summoned if the human meets any danger.

The human was talking excitedly about everything he had hoped to learn in Devildom, and which required access to places beyond RAD. Barbatos was barely listening. The human's request came not from curriousity or enthousiasm about the exchange program. Barbatos might have been ancient. But so was the art of intelligence gathering. Even if it was not for his powers, Barbatos would not be as foolish as to assume that anyone else would be sharing Lord Diavolo's belief that the exchange students would participate in the programm to make friends. It was his oversight that Lord Diavolo still had this optimism and naivity about him, something that would need to be fixed before young master actually accends the throne. But there was still plenty of time to correct that.

The door flew open, cutting the MIA agent's words short (MIA = Mage Intelligence Agency):

- "Barbatos, we have a problem". Lucifer entered the room, barely sparing Solomon a glance. There was no need to hide the problem from the humans, as they would find out in due time anyway. So Lucifer continued without asking Solomon to leave the room: - "The second student Heavens are sending is underage. We cannot respobsibly let him participate in some of the classes. I have re-arranged the class schedule (again!) to push those classes to the end of the day, however this would mean that Luke is left unattended for several hours a day"

Lucifer handed over student file to Barbatos and gracefully sat down in a chair. The past few weeks of trying to arange everything for the exchange program took a heavy toll on him, and he suspected that this was just a start. The other human student will be guarded by him and his brothers, and would live in the same dorm. And while he could delegate the interaction with the human to his brothers, there was still a lot of work to be done to ensure that the human would survive the entire year. Lucifer did not want to think what would happen if he would fail. Lord Diavolo could ever be so friendly and claiming to wish to be friends with Lucifer, but that would not change the fact that it would take a single command from the Prince for Lucifer and his brothers to lose their home in Devildom. He, a former angel, a former enemy, was only allowed to stay in Devildom because the Prince wished so. Lucifer's pride would never allow him to forget that. It really did not help that his brothers were often acting in ways that could potentially offend Lord Diavolo. Lately, migraine had become Lucifer's eternal companion. He had allowed himself to briefly close his eyes while Barbatos was contemplating the angel's file. - “This is indeed quite troublesome”, Barbatos spoke softly: - “perhaps we can offer extra curricular activities, or find a way to keep him busy while Simeon and Solomon attend the other classes. Do you perhaps know what he likes?”  -”No, he was born after I left the Heavens, so we have never met”, replied Lucifer. Then he sighed a deep sigh of a man about to do something he will most likely regret later. Lucifer really did not want anyone to know that he had a communication channel with the only angel who had always looked out for him. Treason could be assumed for far less than this. But he was certain that Barbatos knew. After all, it was the butler’s job to know. Only fools thought of Barbatos as a mere butler, and Lucifer was not one of them. Perhaps it was time to come out clean and show some trust. Lucifer took out his DDD and dialed Simeon, putting the call on loud speaker. - “Lucifer, is everything alright? You never actually call”, Simeon sounded very worried. Lucifer remembered that he had, indeed, only exchanged short texts with Simeon and quickly replied to ease the angel’s worry: - “Yes Simeon, everything is fine. You are on loud speaker, Barbatos can hear you as well”, Lucifer choose not to mention Solomon for it would be odd for the human to arrive to Devildom before the other exchange students. Under the crimson glare promising all rounds of hell, Solomon quickly nodded his agreement to stay quiet. -”We ran into a small issue however. Due to his delicate age, it would be ill advised for Luke to attend some of the classes. So we were wondering if he had any interests or hobbies that we could offer to him instead”, Lucifer continued. -”Ah, I see. I’m sorry, I had not thought of that.”, Simeon’s gentle appologetic tone betrayed a hint of emberassement: - “Luke is really passionate about baking.”  -”We can defintly work with that. Would it be acceptable to you if I were to take Luke to the Castle for baking lessons after his regular classes? I could pick him up from RAD, and teach him Devildom recipies until you are ready to take him home. The dorm you will be staying at is a short walk from the Castle”, Barbatos joined the conversation. -”Barbatos?”, they had not talked often enough for Simeon to recognize his voice. -”That is correct”, Barbatos replied. -”Yes, I’m sure that Luke will be very happy to be able to take baking classes in Devildom. Thank you, this is a wonderful idea”. The sound of a door hitting the wall demonstrated that Celestial realm was also not free of beings who just barged into other people’s rooms. Barbatos shot a glance at Lucifer, who pretended that it was not him who forgot to knock just awhile ago. -”Simeon!!!” an excited voice rang out. -”I have learned the Purge of Light spell! Now these demons will not be of any danger to us!”  Lucifer quietly raised his eyebrows. Barbatos flashed a cheery smile. Solomon had to bite his lip to prevent himself from laughting. -”Luke, while I applaud your study efforts, I ask you to loudly scream for help if anything were to happen during our stay in Devildom”, Simeon’s voice was serious yet soothing. -”I’m not a child to call for help!”, the other youthfull voice sounded indignant. - “This is a diplomatic mission Luke, so in case of danger, I myself will be screaming for help. We do not want to be accused of attacking Devildom inhabitants, do we?”, Simeon had unlimited patience. -”Will you?”, Luke sounded shocked. -”Yes, I will” replied Simeon. The click sound indicated that Simeon had finally ended the call. Amused silence filled the room. -”Well well.... breaking someone’s worldview like that”, Lucifer was the first to speak.  -”Those were some amazing childcare skills. Is Simeon a Teacher?”, asked amused Solomon. -”No. Intelligence gathering agent”, Lucifer replied curtly, shooting Solomon an unreadable stare.  “Just like you”. The words were never spoken, yet Solomon could feel them linger in the room. He was grateful for years of martial arts practices that allowed him to control his body and supress a shiver. Solomon smiled. This year will be interesting, to say the least.

---------

part 2

[nikakistos]

The mindset of Eren Yeager: The reason he rumbled the World

The topic I will be analyzing this time is Eren Yeager’s decisions and motivations in the final arc of the series. Many words have been said about our main protagonist, especially after his appearance in the final chapter, which made many question him and his actions. Given the dialogue between him and Armin it is not really hard to understand why. Isayama’s word choices have confused many fans. So, here I am. Trying to explain to the best of my ability what was going through Eren’s mind. Of course, I might be wrong. There have been many interpretations of the character after all, not to mention that Isayama will be releasing a character book the next month, which might explain things better. But, seeing as I will be in the army at the time, I figured I should write this now and compare my view to Isayama’s later on.

To begin with, we have to answer a very important question. What was Eren wish and what kind of life did he want to live? This question can easily be answered just by looking at Mikasa and Armin, Eren’s two most beloved people. These two represent what Eren wants out of life. Armin is responsible for Eren’s desire to be free. The outside world for Eren is freedom. Mikasa on the other hand represents Eren’s desire to be loved. She is his home to return to. You see, these two desires perfectly correspond with the visions Eren shared with his two friends in the paths. He used the paths to see with Armin all the places from Armin’s book that they imagined back when they were kids and he used the paths to live with Mikasa the life they never had the chance to live in the real world. Eren himself says he doesn’t want to die. He wants to live with Mikasa and everyone else. This is the kind of life he wants.

  But he couldn’t. And it wasn’t because of some supernatural force that guided his own actions and prohibited him from making another decision. No. It was because of his personality and the circumstances he found himself in. After Eren saw the future his attitude changed. He was by far more silent and sad than usual. He saw himself committing mass-genocide. He also learnt that the world was not what he imagined it to be. Eren wanted the world to be just like Armin’s book described. Empty of humans, but full of beautiful places. However, between himself and his dream stood enemies. Countless people who had never seen them, all wishing them dead.  The outside world had betrayed his expectations. For him, all these people that stood between him and his dream were just like the walls in Paradis. An obstacle. This is why, despite knowing that the Rumbling went against the justice he was supposedly fighting for, he decided to complete it. Deep down, he hated this world and he wanted to burn it down. This is in part due to his idea of freedom. For Eren, freedom is living your life the way you want it to, without ever taking orders from anyone. Doing whatever you want. This is why he was surprised by Levi’s follower attitude towards Erwin. With all his strength, he expected Levi to be the freest person in the legion. A world that continued to chain him down and disappoint him was something Eren could not tolerate. And when he got the power, he just wanted to erase it. He was free to do so.  It is no coincidence that the panel of his father saying to him “you are free” appears at the same time that Eren reveals his desire to destroy the world. This burning desire of his to erase the world contradicts his view on people being special because they were born in it. If this world makes people special just because they were born in it, then why the fuck would you completely destroy it Eren? Well, that’s exactly the point. Eren’s though process is entirely irrational. That’s true for all humans to a degree. Our deepest and darkest desires are irrational. The part of Eren that wanted to bring the Apocalypse, just because the world wasn’t like he wanted it to be is exactly that. Eren had to choose between what was just and what made him feel free. He chose the latter.

Moving on to the more rational side of his motivations for doing the Rumbling. That is the safety of his friends and his island. Eren genuinely cared for all of his friends. Mikasa and Armin were special, but he also cared for Historia, Jean, Connie, Sasha etc. He even cared for fucking Floch. And, obviously he cared for the island that he was raised in. He couldn’t just let the world annihilate them. This is like, the core of his ideology. If you fight, you might survive. If you just roll over, then you get fucked. Eren is not the type to get fucked. However, this did not mean that Eren wouldn’t opt for a different solution if a better option presented itself. After all, he did appear in the speech given by the Organization that protected the rights of the Eldians. The first problem here is that when Eren saw the memories of the future he had just 8 years left to live. Zeke had 5. Eren was displeased with this lack of time. The second problem was that he was stuck with a hilariously incompetent leadership. The leadership of Paradis failed spectacularly in finding a good solution and wasted half of Eren’s remaining lifespan. At the rate the Survey Corps were progressing, Zeke would have died and without him they wouldn’t be able to use the Founding Titan at all.  Additionally, none of the solutions they tried to find were exactly great. The 50 Y.P. required the sacrifice of Historia and her line, without ensuring with 100% certainty the eternal existence of Eldia. Since Eren cared about Historia and the island, he couldn’t accept such a proposal. The rest of the Survey Corps felt the same way. Hizuru on the other hand didn’t help them at all and Hange’s plan to approach the Organization that wanted to protect the rights of the Eldians failed spectacularly. Eren was left out of options.

The biggest turn off for him though was the revelation of Zeke’s real plan. When Yelena learnt that the SC would visit Marley she approached Eren and told him all about Zeke’s euthanasia and how to contact him. From this point on, Eren really had no other option left to save Paradis. If the meeting with the Eldian Rights Organization were to fail then he would have no choice but using Zeke’s blood, especially given his brother’s limited lifespan. He would never get another chance to visit Marley, nor was it certain that Zeke and he would manage to make contact. Worst case scenario, Zeke dies before meeting Eren, Colt gets the Beast, the Global Alliance attacks Paradis and they get fucked. Or, the SC somehow manage to find a serum to turn Historia into a dumb Titan, have Mikasa and Levi alongside Eren restrain her and use the Rumbling anyway, while also having sacrificed Historia.

  Things might have been different if Eren had actually decided to talk about the future he saw. Knowing what would happen if they didn’t try hard enough, might have made the Corps work harder. Of course, Eren just couldn’t predict the outcome of such a decision, so he decided to stay quiet, since, as established above, deep down he wanted to destroy the world.

Eren’s decision in the end came down to this: either he destroys the world or he says “fuck all” and elopes with Mikasa. He loved her enough to abandon everything and live his last few years peacefully with her. His dream about the outside world, Armin, Historia, Paradis, he was ready to turn his back to all of them just so he could selfishly survive with Mikasa. However, both he and Mikasa are incredibly shy people who can’t quite express their feelings easily. So, instead of telling her that he was in love with her, he left it all to her. To top it all off, he framed the question in such a way, that gave her the chance to pick an easy answer, without risking rejection. Then they got interrupted and the rest is history. He said fuck it and accepted his fate.

Attack on Titan’s world does operate under a fixed timeline. Destiny exists. Ever since Ymir became a titan up to Mikasa killing Eren was predetermined. They were meant to happen, exactly as they happened. However, the reason for that is not entirely supernatural. It is just that the personalities of each and every major character led to the result we saw. It is entirely because Eren cared about his friends and because he dreamt of freedom that he chose to rumble the world. It is his and Mikasa’s shyness that robbed them of a future together. Ymir had nothing to do with all that. It wasn’t Ymir who made the Santa Titan dumb enough to not bite Eren properly, nor was she the one who made the Azumabito clan greedy as hell or the Marleyans imperialists.

Eren knew what he would do and this of course played a major role in his decisions. But nobody forced him to do it. And, more than anything, he also knew why. Deep down, he knew. Eren decided Rumble the world, because he wanted his friends and island to be safe and because he hated the world. Eren accepted his fate, because he was left with no choice that he liked, time was running out and because Mikasa didn’t give him the right answer. The result? 80% of humanity dead, some of his friends dead, the ones who survived are mostly well, with Mikasa being the saddest one. The world is slowly marching to war, with the Yeagerists having regrouped and Armin and the co are trying to prevent this. The island’s survival is by no means guaranteed.

  Was it all for nothing? I don’t think so. Eren saved Paradis for some time, giving the chance to Armin to save humanity. After all, he did tell him so himself. Eren believed that with the Rumbling leaving the world in the state we saw, Armin would be able to find a solution. The series seems to imply that this is what will eventually happen.

In the end, Eren acted just like himself. Just like he told Falco. His reasons are not that complicated. He kept moving forward, because he was seeing something beyond this hell. We know now what that something was. His actions make total sense. It is just that his deep desire to end the world is rooted in his own childish view of freedom and of the world. In a story about children who need to become adults, Eren remained a child. His two friends on the other hand didn’t. Armin accepted his role as the Commander of the Survey Corps and despite the world not being what he wanted it to be, still fought to protect it from the person he once wished to explore this earth with. Mikasa accepted her role as a guardian of humanity and not Eren’s, like she believed herself to be, and despite wanting to share her life with Eren, she killed him. Eren saved Mikasa and Armin. This is his legacy. A world without titans.

[many-gay-magpies]

NO LITERALLY WHO DECIDED JINO WAS THE TALLEST. JAKE MAY NOT BE SHORT BUT HOON AND NIKI MAKE HIM LOOK TEENY

bro. no bc i feel SO CONFLICTED abt things like the cuttoon bc while i ADORE this whole “sooha and the boys growing up together pre-orphanage” concept i am ALSO a sucker for a victorian-era orphanage for “precocious children” that was really just a hideout spot for the seven vampire kids. like the aesthetics of given-taken with the old film and the outfits and just the general Vibe of a victorian orphanage is like CRACK to me i just wish i knew how to properly work in sooha. for the guys it makes sense that they were vampire kids in the 1800s and just . survived till decelis, but for sooha that makes no sense bc she’s still human and i’m UPSET ABT IT. well tbh if hybe wants to pull the “princess in her past life” bullshit my idea for now will be “she grew up w the boys in her past life but was killed by [insert whatever here] right around their kidnapping and now that’s why she can’t remember them either but feels a ~past life connection~”

NO YEAH SOLON SHION AND JINO ITS SO CUTE I LOVE IT SM. imagine the gossip at decelis abt solon- “he’s so reserved, i think he’s kind of cold and arrogant” “but do you see him with his brothers? i’m sure he’s got a secret sweet romantic side!” “*dreamy sigh* what do i have to do to see that side of him?” JDJSBDD HED HATE IT SM HED RATHER KEEP THE REPUTATION OF A JERK THAN HAVE ALL THE GIRLS SWOONING

PFFFT THE LOOK ON KHAN’S FACE WOULD BE SO FUNNY JUST LIKE “o-oh… man i’m so sorry we didn’t know you went through all that… shit i look like an asshole rn dont i?”

- vrvr anon

jino is short in my soul. or at least short compared to his tallass brothers but one thing's for sure he is NOT the tallest that dude is average height at best. plus i like the concept of buff short men anyway.

NO REALLY IM. SO INTERNALLY MAD AND CONFLICTED ABOUT THAT LIKE. i like the storyline of sooha growing up with the boys too much to let go of it in this au (because that pack dynamic is so SWEET to me i love it so much). and yeah if i go the easy route ill just say she died and then got reincarnated later on but,, if the powers were given to them via genetic engineering i dont think theyd pass over into the new body with her soul so. theres that.

altho if you want a taste of the real mental gymnastics my brain resorts too when trying to justify keeping a story/plotline in, allow me to treat you to this truly absurd idea of mine: so. what if the orphanage made multiple generations of these genetically engineered-superpowered people? like, there have been multiple "batches" of them and each new "batch" improves upon something the last one got wrong. sooha's mom could be one of the kids from the previous generation—maybe she's the only one of them that survived, somehow, and the orphanage has been keeping tabs on her to see how she develops and continue the experiments with HER children (maybe to see how superpowered kids that come from a superpowered mom would differ compared to the kids with normal moms). this could also explain how sooha is able to use her powers without damaging her body, because her mother's dna passed down the info about how to protect from/withstand the powers better. the story goes pretty much the same as we've discussed, sooha's mom manages to protect sooha from the orphanage by pretending she was killed by her powers. but instead of just hiding out NORMALLY, sooha's mom uses her OWN long-forgotten powers to ensure her daughter's safety... maybe her powers involve time and time manipulation, and (either directly after the kidnapping or after chris is killed) she locks both she and her daughter away in a time-bubble of sorts, where they stay frozen as the rest of the world moves on around them. if they stay in there long enough, maybe the orphanage eventually figures they just died, and stops looking for them. i dont really know how the logistics would WORK exactly but its a thought, and as a bonus it conjures up the very funny mental image of sooha's mom in some secluded cottage in the woods, settling down for a very VERY long nap with her daughter, clicking a button in her brain like "hey siri, set alarm for uhhhhhhhhhh a thousand years from now-" (and maybe that contributes some to sooha's hazy memories of her childhood, because time manipulation can be a real bitch to the psyche)

LMAO YEAH SOLON. the gossip around school would be so funny tho, like "tsundere with a secret soft side" is EXACTLY the kind of shit that a bunch of teenage girls would be swooning over. and now im just imagining a day where one of the brothers is hurt or feeling down or something and a random student passes by to see solon (gasp) being ACTUALLY AFFECTIONATE for once! and solon sees the student gaping and hes just like SHITSHITSHIT ive been discovered and then he punches his brother to make sure the situation doesnt look too chummy.

that kind of awkward interaction is so painful and yet so funny to me i love it. khan would be SO AWKWARD and feel SO BAD it would be great hsjfhfjfjf like "ohhh im. shit im an asshole arent i" BRILLIANT

[hualianff]

Take Us Back (To Where We Hoped) 《ao3》

Samidare – Yasuharu Takanashi

They lay sprawled on the hood of the dirtied, run-down truck; backs pressed up to the scratched surface of the windshield and hands settled close enough for their pinkies to touch. The sun hung low in the sky, saturating the smog-muddled atmosphere a blazing blood-orange. A slight breeze tickled Hua Cheng’s cheeks and caressed his shoulders.

In different circumstances, the sunset would be considered beautiful. Sublime. Romantic, even. But the sky reminded Hua Cheng of cataclysmic explosions and rampant fires, unstoppable in their destruction. Rotting buildings and heaps of crumbled debris in the distance also took much of the charm away. As far as the horizon floated–an unreachable painting reserved for vibrant, passionate souls–no other human being lingered in sight.

No one else to enjoy the tranquil summer evening.

No one else but them.

“I wish I had a camera,” Xie Lian suddenly said after minutes of silence. His eyes trained on the scenery in front of them, shining with a heavenly glow. Hua Cheng turned his head to fully look at his boyfriend, listening intently. “This view is too pretty not to take a photo.”

“I can go in and ask if anyone has found one since the last stock run,” Hua Cheng offered immediately, shifting from his sitting position. He prepared to slide off the hood the moment Xie Lian nodded his assent. After all, Xie Lian only has to voice his needs and Hua Cheng will do everything in his power to ensure they are met.

However, Xie Lian shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. He moved his hand to the right, sneaking it under Hua Cheng’s palm to intertwine their fingers.

“That won’t be necessary, San Lang,” Xie Lian said. “I was merely thinking out loud.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t be any longer than one minute,” Hua Cheng assured, enjoying the pressure of Xie Lian’s palm glued to his own. Their skin was a bit dry. Heavily calloused. Pale. But the skin-to-skin contact spread warmth up Hua Cheng’s arm and through the rest of his body.

His heart fiercely pounded against his ribcage.

“I’m sure. I’d rather just sit with you and watch the sun go down.”

Hua Cheng hummed in acknowledgment.

“Very well. But only until we can barely see-”

“-the peak of the tallest tower. Yes, I knowww,” Xie Lian pouted, scooting in closer to the younger man. “But this is our alone time, when I get San Lang all to myself.”

Hua Cheng’s visible eye lowered with understanding. It was true. As of two years ago, this was their temporary utopia from the unfathomable horrors of reality. The government downplayed the severity of the outbreak for as long as it could until the disease spiraled out of control. A new wave of monsters with different builds and appetites rose to the top of the food chain; humans became their designated vessels.

Or food.

The survivor group’s general rule was that everyone must be indoors as soon as the tallest structure faded into the shadows. Come nightfall is when the deadliest creatures roam the dilapidated Earth–their hunting grounds. For the most part, it’s an effective tell-tale sign they have learned along the way. Survival of the craziest indeed.

The life Hua Cheng lived before everything turned to Hell-fucking-shit was nothing but a distant past. The orphanage, the street hustle, the university he somehow managed to graduate from. Yet, a few people from this distant past remained in Hua Cheng’s life now.

He Xuan, the fucker he defended from a gang of lowlifes back in his teen years who has since then stuck to Hua Cheng’s side like a pesky magnet. (They still repel each other, somehow…)

Yin Yu, the classmate Hua Cheng was paired up with for a two-semester course, then later became his co-worker at the campus library.

And lastly, his boyfriend, Xie Lian, who he met in his final year of university, in the exact library Hua Cheng spent as many hours working as Xie Lian spent studying. Aimless business major with a poor upbringing meets promising graduate student with a tendency to put others first.

Naturally, they were drawn to each other.

“San Lang, can you please hold me?” Xie Lian asked, hope evident in his tone.

Pulled out of his reverie, Hua Cheng smiled down softly at the older man. He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple before rearranging their position until Xie Lian was settled with his back cushioned against Hua Cheng’s chest. Hua Cheng looped his arms around Xie Lian’s waist, their worn-out clothes further wrinkling as two bodies mold together.

Xie Lian sighed in content. He wiggled in Hua Cheng’s hold for a few seconds–his little happy dance. Gazing back at the stretch of barren land, Xie Lian quietly spoke up, voice a little strained.

“San Lang, can I ask you something?”

Hua Cheng channeled all his energy to hearing Xie Lian’s words and feeling his solid form weigh comfortingly upon his heart.

“Gege can ask me anything.”

If it were physically possible, Hua Cheng would never let him go.

***

Hua Cheng feels himself being shoved out of the way before he hears the piercing, nonhuman screech of an infected. He barely catches himself on his hands and knees, blood pumping through his veins like shards of ice.

“Shit!” Mu Qing curses up ahead, having turned around where he was leading the two other men. He whips his gun out and aims to shoot the creature, but Hua Cheng is quicker.

Hua Cheng leaps up from the ground and sprints to where Xie Lian wrestles with a two-headed, green-skinned mutant, foaming at both mouths as it pins Xie Lian down. Xie Lian grunts as he repeatedly stabs the infected in the chest, neck, and face, but the monster doesn't show any signs of backing off.

Using the momentum from his powerful steps, Hua Cheng draws his dominant leg back. Xie Lian freezes, sensing the impending attack. Hua Cheng puts all his strength into that one goodman kick, sending one of the heads flying a couple of meters away. He then shoves the creature off of Xie Lian, smashing his foot down on its skull.

Stomp! Stomp! STOMP!

Black liquid gushes out of the creature’s ears, nose and mouth. For every attempt it tries to fight back, Hua Cheng delivers another blow, this time to its deformed body that is a result of the Hellish disease. The sounds of bones cracking and flesh squishing do not deter him. Neither do the cries of pain. If anything, it infuriates Hua Cheng even more.

He does not hear the faint shout of “San Lang!” from his worried lover.

STOMP! POW! CRACK!

When the second head separates from the body, Hua Cheng merely grits his teeth, hands closing into rock-hard fists. The concave head wobbles pitifully in the dirt. Satisfaction burns in Hua Cheng’s gut.

Until he spots splotches of scarlet where the monster’s mouth had fallen open.

Fuck.

Hua Cheng spins on his heel to run to Xie Lian’s side. However, Mu Qing has already helped Xie Lian up, now supporting the other man as they enter an abandoned convenience store a street away.

Hua Cheng follows after, running the fastest he’s ever run in his life.

His heart threatens to burst open his numb, worthless chest.

***

“No.”

Xie Lian noticeably tensed in between Hua Cheng’s legs. Hua Cheng never told him no unless it was something that jeopardized his safety. But this wasn’t a potentially risky plan Xie Lian brought up.

It was the worst-case scenario.

“We are not discussing this right now,” Hua Cheng growled out.

“If not now, then when?” Xie Lian questioned, a bit exasperated but not surprised by the reaction. Behind him, Hua Cheng doesn’t say anything, but his nose brushed along Xie Lian’s hair as he shook head in objection.

“San Lang, please, just listen-” Xie Lian insisted, grabbing onto Hua Cheng’s wrist. The bold, red lines of his tattoo of Xie Lian’s name scream at him to stop. “We should be prepared for this-”

“Gege-”

“-because there’s no guarantee that it won’t happen.”

“Like Hell I would even let it happen,” Hua Cheng snarled with a certain nastiness Xie Lian didn’t hear often. While it was not entirely directed at him, Xie Lian couldn’t help but be upset that he had dampened the mood and worked his boyfriend up regardless.

Xie Lian frowned as he looked over his shoulder. Though he hated the possibility, he seriously needed Hua Cheng’s confirmation on this matter. Said man wouldn’t meet his eye, choosing to bury his face into the older man’s neck instead.

“San Lang…”

“Xie Lian…”

Xie Lian abruptly exhaled a hot breath of air, not wanting to drag this out any longer. With a lump the size of a golf ball lodged in his throat, Xie Lian resolutely repeated his request.

“Please, San Lang. Promise me this.”

Hua Cheng hugged Xie Lian tighter.

“If I get bitten, I want you to kill me. Kill me before I turn.”

[merlinbingo]

First up, I just want to say wow! Not sure what I was expecting when I started this, but you guys have just been amazing.

Over the course of January, we’ve had 126 sign-ups! Of those, 21 people have already created a whopping 43 fills, and one of you has even got a bingo!

All fills created in January (GMT) have been reblogged, and all badges earned in January have been sent out. If you think we’ve missed you, please reach out!

We’ve got a lot of fills to round up, so they’re all hidden below the cut and sorted by ship and then by rating.

Take a look, take heed of the tags/warnings/ratings (including those where the creator has decided to use the 'Not rated' and 'Choose not to use archive warnings' options - these works could contain anything at all, so please practice self-care when deciding whether or not to click on that link!) and make sure you leave these wonderful creators some love!

Gen/No ship

In a Year, in a Season, in a Moment. by BardsBeBardin924 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: A short series of short poems. Four characters, four seasons. Explorations of love and pain. Just the human things.

The Danger Of Frog Catching by Simoneleona & blueclaw7 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: When Elyan heard of the frog catching adventures of his friend, he immediately wanted to do so himself. It is nothing new that Gwen is busy when Elyan wants to do something.

cat!Merlin by unmarkedinlife Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Court Sorcerer Merlin is still cute transformed into a cat.

No Sword in Our Lake by BardsBeBardin924 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: A fragmented Camelot reels in the immediate aftermath of the battle at Camlann. Queens, Knights, and Sorcerers come together to fight through their grief to do the one thing they know: live, and live, and live some more, for those who are no longer able.

Running by donttouchtheneednoggle Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary:

Burning by donttouchtheneednoggle Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary:

Immortal by donttouchtheneednoggle Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary:

Merlin/Freya

Freylin Avalon AU by camelotsheart Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Freya and Arthur have a conversation about Merlin in Avalon.

Merlin/Gwaine

Drowning by donttouchtheneednoggle Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary:

Arthur/Gwaine

Jealousy, Turning Saints Into The Sea by fxndom-hoe Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine is flirtatious by nature. Arthur gets jealous easily. What a fun mix.

Arthur/Lancelot

Servant by donttouchtheneednoggle Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary:

Arthur/Mithian

Brief Encounters by Fluffypotatey Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Two different times, Mithian can remember meeting Arthur. Now she is to marry him. She wonders if he even remembers her.

Merlin/Arthur

Take my hand, wreck my plans by heartsocold Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur doesn't know how to be affectionate but for Merlin he'll try.

But first, skin care. by heartsocold Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin and Arthur are bloggers who are introduced to the world of skin care.

Hopelessly devoted (to you) by Stardustwrites17 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: When Arthur and Merlin visit Queen Elena's castle, their stay gets prolonged by un unexpected storm.

when the truth comes out by heartsocold Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: When a vengeful sorcerer kidnaps Arthur, Merlin will do anything to keep him safe. Even if that means revealing his magic.

I Miss Your Smile by QueenoftheBritons Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Once magic is made legal and Merlin is appointed Court Sorcerer, he thinks things should change rather quickly. Unfortunately, even now people will fool and take advantage.

Humans Are Annoying, Their Mating Practices Even More So by tehfanglyfish Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: After waiting for Merlin and Arthur to confess their obvious love for one another, Kilgharrah gets annoyed and takes matters into his own hands. Or rather paws. Or feet. Or whatever.

Secrets of a Lifetime by huniths-muse Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur notices that his son has a very distinctive birthmark. Turns out, Merlin has one too.

standing in a timeless dream by Emma, or ItsAWonderfulLife on ao3 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: For the “space” prompt - Merthur domesticity sharing the same living space and getting ready for bed.

standing in a timeless time by Emma, or ItsAWonderfulLife on ao3 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Domesticity and occupying each other's space getting ready for bed.

he'll know me crazy, soothe me daily, better yet, he wouldn't care by Emma, or ItsAWonderfulLife Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur and Merlin have kids and they're single parents and barely functioning humans.

Battered and Wrecked, I Come to You First by queerofthedagger Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Life has a habit of throwing challenges at anyone. Some are almost mundane, like surviving finals or breaking your wrist in a bike crash. Others are much harder, like standing up to your father and making your own path. All of them, though, are easier to bear if you have someone who sticks with you through hell or highwater.

I'd give you all the years of my life by Emma, or ItsAWonderfulLife on AO3 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Hanahaki prompt - Merthur journey to find some magical people who may be able to cure Arthur's 'condition'. They're idiots as usual.

The Issue of Knighthood by evaelisaa Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Arthur offers Merlin knighthood (he has his reasons), but Merlin declines (he also has his reasons).

I'm already gone (chapter title is 'wish we had more time') by Emma, or ItsAWonderfulLife on AO3 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Chapter summary: Merlin reminisces, and makes a wish. Story summary: I watched Wonder Woman 1984 and decided to make it Merthur so y'all can suffer with me.

Chapter title: 'anything you want' by Emma, or ItsAWonderfulLife on AO3 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Chapter 2 of fic 'I'm already gone' - Merlin makes tea and toast and is just grumpy on main with his cat mug, Ralph. Someone might be coming back at the end of this chapter. Merlin Bingo Square #C5 - Slice of Life.

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown by emma.freeman313 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Ostracise: to exclude, by general consent, from society, friendship, conversation, privileges, etc.

Heavy is the heart that loves the crown by emma.freeman313 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Duty of care: a moral or legal obligation to ensure the safety or well-being of others. Servitude: the state of being a slave or completely subject to someone more powerful. Devotion: love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person or activity. Love: indefinable.

to ash and dust by TheDragon Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: They used to be different, the dreams; they've changed over the years. The person condemning him to death used to be nothing more than an expressionless, vacant face attached to a man's body; yet when he moved to Camelot it became Uther: his face red with rage and veins throbbing at his temple and the side of his neck.

fireworks by Emma, ItsAWonderfulLife Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Arthur gets acquainted with the new world. Something continues to be wrong with Merlin's magic. The plague spreads to other continents. Basically just Arthur being a space nerd.

the beauty in what is by ItsAWonderfulLife (Emma) Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Arthur's POV for this one folks. The Winter Solstice comes to Avalon, and to Glastonbury. Merlin thinks he's good at keeping secrets but Arthur has another informant.

truth by ItsAWonderfulLife (Emma) Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: The big sad chapter. Arthur has to go back, because they have to save the world. The death is very much temporary though I promise I require happy endings always.

in the winter night sky, ships are sailing by ItsAWonderfulLife Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin and Arthur are happy with their relationship. They're madly in love, and have no need for sex. The rest of the world doesn't really seem to understand, but that's okay.

don't tell me what to do by ItsAWonderfulLife Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur's last name is PenDRAGON.

Kisses and Kingdoms - Royal Merlin by Emma, emma.freeman313 on Spotify Rating: Mature Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: The playlist tells the tale of Merlin being born as a druid prince and his parents celebrating (Daughter), for he symbolises a new hope for magic users everywhere. He spends his youth carefree and wild in the druidic realm and amongst nature (Pierre), but eventually leaves for Camelot (From Eden) to negotiate peace treaties with the new king once Uther passes, where he meets King Arthur and is instantly enamoured (ocean eyes). He is delighted to discover Arthur is lovely and wants peace as much as he does, and they work together, but he falls in love with him, and, believing Arthur to be in love with Gwen, grows extremely sad (I couldn't be more in love) and flees to the woods. Arthur rides after him, catching up to him to inform him he's an idiot, Gwen's married to Morgana, and that he's hopelessly in love with Merlin (Can't help falling in love). Merlin is overwhelmed with emotion and proposes to Arthur (Marry Me), binding them with druidic love runes for marriage. They rule over a prosperous and thriving combined Camelot/foresty kingdom of love and acceptance at such a young age, still intimidated by the responsibilities they face and still dealing with some TraumaTM on Arthur's part but grateful to have each other (Young God).

Falsely Accused by johnlock-and-merthur-4ever Rating: Mature Ao3 warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: Arthur is out on a hunt when Aredian arrives. Aredian accuses Merlin of being a sorcerer and things go downhill. (Or uphill depending on who you are)

some of us love you Achilles, it's not much but there's proof by ItsAWonderfulLife Rating: Mature Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Merlin Bingo #G5 'Illnesses' - After a fight with Merlin, Arthur flees to the only place in the city he can breathe. Morgana helps him talk about his feelings. MASSIVE TW FOR MENTION OF SUICIDE AND DEPRESSION. Nobody dies. Happy ending. Sad fic.

Go for It (Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt) by nuttersinc / Leandra (ao3) Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: Underage Summary: Merlin is definitely not in love with his soon-to-be stepbrother Arthur. In fact, they have trouble being civil to each other. Their animosity doesn’t keep Merlin from misappropriating Arthur’s shirt for a guilt-tripped wank though.

Reflecting Ecstasy by MerthurAllure Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur fingers Merlin in front of a mirror so he can watch

You Give Me Fever by slantedknitting Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur is a history teacher who just wants to live his life in peace. Morgana is the frontwoman of a successful band, and she bursts back into Arthur’s life after a two-year estrangement. As Arthur wades cautiously back into his sister’s life, he meets the band’s new drummer, Merlin. Merlin is charming and clever and, per Morgana’s decree, off limits to Arthur. Now Arthur has to decide if he wants to appease his sister or go after what (who) he really wants.

protective merlin by bananichu Rating: Not rated Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: its a drawing

the violet sheds (Ch. 2) by unmarkedinlife Rating: Not rated Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: After Arthur discovers Agravaine's treachery, he follows Merlin and Gwaine to Chemary. The revelations that follow will change everything.

[otp-armada]

"Bellarke doesn't make sense," they say. They say because Clarke hasn't done anything that resembles romantic gestures toward Bellamy. 

Conceding to march to her possible death in exchange for Roan sparing Bellamy's life. Obstinately fighting against Bellamy's stubborn wishes to remain outside the Ark while Praimfaya burns to the world to ashes. Shattering her soul by choosing 100 people to live and writing his name on the list, because he must survive. She can't have it any other way. Relinquishing 50 of those spots to Azgeda when Bellamy is captured and threatened, and Roan calls her bluff. Desperation driving her to the extreme to ensure the survival of the human race, yet unable to kill Bellamy to keep the bunker closed and the grounders from possibly killing Skaikru. Leaving the guaranteed safety of the fort to stay by Bellamy's side on the brink of global cataclysm. The bittersweet yet soft head and heart exchange she prompted. The hesitation in her last remark before imploring him to hurry. 

4x13 ends six years and seven days post-Praimfaya with Clarke radioing Bellamy on the Ring. An activity she performs daily for six years. In any six years of my adult life, my only daily consistencies have been limited to breathing, eating, and sleeping. This girl is devoted enough to send her equivalent of love letters into the emptiness of space for 2,199 days. Season 5 opens with her trying to survive by herself in an apocalyptic wasteland. She spends her journey narrating to him her unvarnished struggles during the most traumatic experience of her young life to date. Her despondency. Her loneliness. Her agony. Her desperation. Her small victories. Her discovered treasures. Her determination. Her doubt. Her guilt. Her defeat. Her morbid self-reflection. Her relief and contentment. Her happiness. Her admission of missing him. She shares all of it with only him. Only he is permitted to know her to this depth. Not any of her other people on the Ring. Not any of her people in the bunker, a group including her mother. Not a spiritual communion to the great, big love of her life Lxa, situated on her throne in the high heavens and waiting for her trophy wife, for Clarke to stay connected to her dearly departed. Isn't that the sort of behavior that might occur by a bereft widow? 

After finding an oasis to rest and call home, even after discovering a companion to build a life with, she continues with her radio calls. It doesn't matter that he never received her communications. The importance of the gesture- the intimacy of sharing her life and thoughts with him while he was gone- remains the same. The magnitude of her devotion to him made clearer through the absence of a single responding utterance. 

She lovingly tells Madi stories of Bellamy as her hero. Gazing warmly, hopefully up at the stars as if she longs for her vision to cut through an endless pitch-black sky and find dark curls and freckled constellations from thousands of miles away.

"Bellarke doesn't make sense," they say. They say because post-Praimfaya ended with an established B/E.

As Clarke looks up at the stars, questioning if she'll see Bellamy again, we transition to our first glimpse of Bellamy after six years, forlornly looking down on Earth to the very spot of green where he is unaware of who is yearning for him to return to her. Contrary to Clarke, who is covered in warm firelight when thinking of him, he is colored in cold, muted greys and blue, no speck of warm hue. (The rhyming scheme was unintentional, but hey, I'm going with it.) Behind him, his family is sparring, but he's distant from them. He's trapped within this tin can, his arms folded, his body taut, not facing the view on the other side of the glass, but still enraptured by the sight of his home below.  

We see what changes to the characters and their dynamics have taken place until, at long last, we uproariously cheer as Bellamy & Co. find a way to return to Earth, the sole event we've been anticipating for eleven months, to the point we could feel it at our fingertips, jittery and tingly. Bellarke reunion!! He's going to know she's alive! Yes! Finally!! Break out the champagne! We're celebrating, dammit! It's going to be so damn emotional! Authors start crafting mental fanfics. People are bouncing off the walls like bright, errant fireworks, unable to sit still. I can't believe it's finally happening...what do you think it's going to be like? Will he run to her? Will he be stunned and speechless? Will they sob uncontrollably?!? They'll be clutching the life out of each other! Another Bellarke hug!! The very best hug!!! They're never going to let the other out of their sight again! He's going to meet Madi! Mom, dad, and adopted preteen make three!!! There's no way they're not getting together after this!! He just got her back after six years of thinking she was dead!! The reunion's not going to happen this episode, but maybe next week, when do you think? You mean we have to wait seven days before----

B e c h o.

We stood on the precipice of what we agonized and crawled through for eleven excruciating months, only for an anvil to drop, and our heads to be clubbed. Our bodies fell through the floor, descending lower and lower with immense haste, to take up residence in the seventh circle of hell. 

Do you think the framing of these events wasn't intentional?

Do you think the powers that be behind the creation of that calamitous bombshell for our protagonist, intended for us to root for B/E? 

By us, I'm not restricting the effect of the blow to Bellarke shippers. The entire audience, casual and fandom alike, shippers and non-shippers, was meant to await this reunion. We were all meant to feel devastated by this revelation. 

If they didn't want to invoke in us feelings of support for B/E at their inception, how in the name of all things holy is a purported B/E endgame your conclusion? 

"B/E doesn't make any sense," they say, "when last we saw them, she was his enemy. Nothing more, nothing less."

Do I think their pre-Praimfaya status as antagonists rendered it impossible for B/E to have a convincing love story or sexual relationship?

I think, if Jason were so inclined, we could have gotten flashback Ring rendezvous of secret trysts between Bellamy and a googly-eyed, blonde-wig-wearing broomstick designated Clarke 2.0. So no, I don't consider B/E a deviation inherently outside the realm of romantic possibility. Jason is an artist, and this show is his canvas. He can give life to almost any whim he'd like in his work of fiction. Not only that, but B/E is also hardly the first pairing in this series modeled by the enemies-to-lovers trope.

"Bellarke doesn't make sense, they'd say, "absent any concrete evidence alluding to a romantic relationship." "Seven years running, and not a trace of romantic love," they'd conclude. 

Remind me, what was B/E's sublime prologue into coupling up again?

Furiously choking the life out of an enemy in a fit of rage two episodes before revealing her as his new girlfriend evidently can be considered by some an adequate precursor to a sensational romantic relationship. But endangering Earthkru's lives by risking the wrath of two societies in refusing to let Clarke die, pumping her heart for her to stay alive while begging her to fight so she can come back to him, cannot be. 

Either this show is quite the oddity, or it’s fandom's periodic knee-jerk, ass-backwards, charming zeal at play. 

The lack of rising development is all the more reason why B/E's grand unveiling demanded perfection. Instead, our first insight into their union is overshadowed by Clarke and the impending Bellarke reunion. B/E isn't central enough to the narrative to warrant focus that would put to rest any discord of illegitimacy. But you know which pair of the two is concentrated on for seven seasons now? Three guesses... 

But don't despair. Fandom has decreed, by its own appraisal, the shorthand of kissing and sex has rectified the discrepancy of a complete absence of pertinent on-screen development.

"It's not ideal storytelling," they say, "to exclude B/E's development. But The 100 has historically been a plot-driven, fast-paced, contained drama. It has always evaded expanding on character dynamics to fans' satisfaction.”

The writers have done more to present Josephine and Gabriel as soulmates with less airtime than B/E ever had in total. They don't lack the skill or time to fortify B/E in anyone's mind as the central romance. Jason made a conscious choice not to. Why would he? Does he think the endgame love story of the show's deuteragonist doesn't merit attention to detail by the writing? Or does it seem more likely, it was never his intention for B/E to cross the finish line?

And, for a plot-driven, fast-paced, contained drama, they sure have an awful knack for finding the time to showcase Clarke's kicked puppy reactions to an embracing B/E. We've had three thus far. One for science, one for emphasis, and one to say, "Do you people get it now?"

"Bellarke doesn't make any sense," they say, "if they wanted each other, they'd have gotten together by now." 

A long time ago, someone stated, "Lovers are supposed to do that you know and if they don’t do that it means their relationship isn’t romantic if sexual intercourse isn’t added." 

And to that, I posed the question, "Where exactly is it written that "if a pairing is not made canon by season [insert arbitrarily chosen number here], it will never be made canon, period?" Was I just absent from fandom class that day and skipped to the lesson on slow-burn ships?" We are going into the final season, and I stand by this question today as I did then. Bellarke could refrain from physical expressions of love and candid confessions to season 17, and their journey could continue to exemplify a love story. Because the absence of either one doesn't preclude two people from falling in love. Nor does the inclusion of either one necessitate two people falling in love. 

"Bellarke doesn't make any sense," they say. They say because Bellamy is her dearly beloved, but platonic, best friend.

Well, you've got me there. I'm stumped. How can it be possible for friendship and romantic love to behave as anything but mutually exclusive concepts? It's not as if friendship can be contorted to serve as a foundation for love.

 The cornerstones of strong friendships include trust, care, support, devotion, and many other features of a similar nature. Love- deep and genuine love, that is- involves frequent kissing and passionate, vigorous sex. The wilder the display, the stronger the pairing. The dozens of couples, love interests, and sexual liaisons before B/E who have kissed and had sex before dying must not have first consulted the manual for proper protocol.

And the inverse? Once two people fall in love, they cannot fall back to say, a familial connection. No, no, no. Such a regression would be the work of a tragic, reprehensible flaw in the cogs of the universe. Speak nothing of it.

"It doesn't make sense for B/E to break up," they say, "when B/E has stayed together for two seasons sans any indication Bellamy loves Clarke more than Echo, enough to want to leave his loving girlfriend."

How many times has Bellamy tried and failed to honor his commitment to Echo? How many weak attempts are met with a corresponding scene of Bellamy shifting his attention to the girl he tells himself to get over?

Echo leaves for Shallow Valley, his focus immediately turns onto persuading Clarke not to leave his side. He symbolically chooses Echo in the fireside scene by touching her sword. Yet, he looks at his girlfriend for the first time since their separation with the most aloof expression unsuitable for the occasion. No hope to be found anywhere. They share a brief reunion hug, no time for intimacy. He is reunited with Clarke and casts a nervous glance at Echo when bombarded with Clarke's appreciative gaze. Still no time for intimacy between B/E before a decade-long nap, but time can be carved out for a warm, flirty Bellarke reconciliation, complete with intensive heart eyes. No inspired, emotionally wrought, double sunlit embraces for B/E. If Bellamy is going to look out of a window at his future home, he'll either be by himself or snuggling Clarke into his side. There's no place for Echo in the lock of his arms anymore, only room for flanking him in the way loyal lieutenants tend to do. His girlfriend glances over at him as their exploratory team roughly plummets to new territory, and he does the same at Clarke. B/E reconnects lakeside, him asking for a swim with her and leaning into her arms at a campfire. He sits by her side on a swing set, amidst talk of moving their people into an abandoned village. And it's all well and good for B/E, right? They're presenting the front of a happy, unified couple. 

Until...Clarke walks away behind his sight, and he leaves Echo's side to seek Clarke's missing presence where the flirting and warm gazes and near confessions are kicked into overdrive. He calls Echo to hear his latest discovery, then proceeds to ignore the hell out of her, communicating exclusively to his co-leader. He stares wistfully at Clarke dancing with her new flavor of the night, cannot stop doing so even while excoriating Echo for her stoicism, expressing his frustration at her inability to fulfill his emotional needs. 

He recommits to Echo, as Clarke is kidnapped and her body is stolen, with nary a transition, suggesting we are meant to link the two incidents together. For all his resolve to face the future with Echo, he spends the whole of the next episode with a wary eye on Clarke, to the point that he is the first to realize Clarke is not herself. In the ensuing arc ranging from 6x05 to 6x11, approximately half of the season, what was B/E, again? Was that a thing concurrently happening with Bellamy's Operation: Save My Clarke? Because I seem to be able to recall only Bellarke goodness. Oh, my mistake, there was the consoling hug which, oddly enough, did nothing to soothe him. As evidenced by his choice to grieve alone. No girlfriend he wanted close by for comfort, knowing clear as day she couldn't provide it if she tried. Not with who he just lost. 

B/E gets another brief reunion hug, the majority of which is spent with him peering at Clarke. The show saw that hug and raised us an Austenesque-quality counterpart that would do Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy proud. 

"B/E endgame is the only sensible outcome," they say, "they love each other so much."

I don't contend they don't love each other. But we are shown two people determined but incapable of snuffing their deep-rooted feelings out of noble propriety, and most importantly, out of needless fear of unrequited love. And another two people who sought- and failed- to keep grasping the wisps of a gentle relationship slipping out of their hands since they left their comfortable space bubble. For anyone in this conundrum to be happy, the only natural course of action is for the latter to call it quits. The writing has been on the wall for too long.

Maybe a single Bellarke scene plucked out of the lineup can be interpreted on its own as platonic buddies being platonic buddies. But when all those individual moments are woven together, what forms is an ornate tapestry with a pattern so vivid, any inane rhetoric involving a hint of the word "platonic" is little more than ludicrous anti drivel transparently cooked up by those wishing a different endgame.

I hope you've enjoyed my second long-winded rant, @sometimesrosy, @jeanie205, @travllingbunny. One born of a teaching moment in which I learn for the umpteenth time it's best to steer clear of Twitter.

[musicanddancingthroughlife]

Necromancer - Shklance

Dudessss. If ya’ll are still here for stories, you’re literally the best humans. I think it’s been months, what with mental health issues followed by the corona (because of course I would be “essential personnel” and of course they increased our weekly hours to over 50) followed by the start of the semester, but I’ve been working on this off and on for a few weeks now, as well as some original stuff. So if you guys are interested in my original works, lemme know and I’ll post some of it. Who knows maybe it’ll motivate me to actually finish one of my books.

Also, this is super rough, so be nice to me. I’m playing around with some ideas here, so feedback is appreciated, and let me know if you want more of this au cause I haven’t decided anything with it yet.

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

           Here’s the thing. The gods are real. Or at least someone’s gods. Or maybe they’re just god-like? Anyway, some clarification. Everyone agrees that these aren’t like any of the gods we recognize. They don’t quite match any of our religions (and boy did that infuriate Lance’s grandmother), and they weren’t like Zeus, or Anubis, or Odin, or any others we know of from legends. In fact, they’re more like the monsters of myths.

             And even further, they’re absolute dicks.

             With all their incredible power, they thought it would be prudent to impart some of their stupid gifts to us mere mortals, and in the process, they ruined Lance’s life.

             See, only a small percentage of humans were given a gift. Most of them were young adults, some teenagers. Supposedly some children will manifest as they mature, but the short of it was, Lance was the only one in his family to get one. Most of his family tried to be understanding and sympathetic about it, but some were jealous, others wary, and all of them were making Lance feel more alone than ever before.

              At least his best friend kinda understood. He’d been blessed by the shifter-god (as in god-who-can-shift, not god-that-shifters-worship). A fairly common gift by now, but still a useful one. Not to mention how cool it was. But, Hunk’s girlfriend Shay had been blessed, too, and was currently in attendance at the new Supernatural school with Hunk and Lance. Since the first day, the perfect couple had easily been able to make friends with the other students in their sections, even their dorms. Most still startled around Lance, but he was becoming used to that. One of these exceptions was a girl named Pidge. Well, her name was actually Katie, but she preferred to go by Pidge. She and her brother were geniuses, so they were great with Hunk and Shay, and tolerant of Lance, but he’d take what he could get.

              Besides, Pidge and her brother Matt – technopaths – were almost impossible to mock, because they were actually childhood – best – friends with Lance’s roommates, the hotshot vampire powerhouse couple of the school. Usually, students were grouped by their gift; in the dorm, they were for their comfort and safety. So far, the three of them were the exception. Of course, because the gods apparently hated Lance, he was one of those, because he was one of the only non-vamps in the dorms. Due to the nature of their existence, people naturally sough to avoid vampires, and they responded by forming their own nests, once again, carefully excluding Lance. Because even at a school of freaks, weirdos, and the powerful, Lance was of the worst.

              Lance was a necromancer.

              A surprise to his family and to Hunk, because they always referred to him as a sunshine boy, always commented on his happy, goofy nature and attitude. Even with the dark nature of the gift, Lance remained his cheerful self – for the most part – for the first few months, but the constant abuse and isolation was starting to wear on him, and Lance knew it. He just couldn’t tell if he cared. No one else did, right? His old friends were having the time of their lives. Even Hunk had yet to see past the mask Lance had taken on. All the other students were content to ignore or mock him, and even Lotor, the only other necromancer at the school, was enjoying the process of crushing Lance, both in the classroom and out. Lance was barely surviving.

              And honestly, he probably wouldn’t be if it weren’t for his roommates. As fuckin’ weird as they were, even for vampires they had been kinder and more aware of Lance and his challenges than anyone else lately. When Lance was too drained physically and emotionally to go down for dinner, Keith brough t tray of food up to him, full of only human food and none of the blood the vampires included in their meals. And Lance hadn’t missed how Shiro sometimes was there to help Lance to and from classes, cheerfully carrying on a very one-sided conversation and effectively ensuring that Lance didn’t feel alone all the time. And even when they were alone in their dorm room studying, both of them did their level best to keep Lance included in their discussions. They refused to let him hide in his bedroom, which he had all to himself, as the previously assigned roommate refused to live with a necromancer. Instead, they dragged him out to the common room to study and then watch movies with them. Literally, Keith dragged him kicking and screaming that first time.

              Sometimes, Lance wished that they weren’t so determined to draw him out and be his friend. Like now, for example.

Sometimes, Shiro will announce a mandatory movie night and sleepover – seriously, having primarily nocturnal roommates was weird – and Lance always tried to duck into his room. Or sneak back out once they were wholly engaged in whatever movie they chose.

“Lance,” Shiro spoke with utter calm, but Lance froze as if he’d been threatened. While Shiro didn’t look up from his movie, Keith did, making direct contact with Lance, who bit his lip and glanced at the den and then looked back at Keith. Keith raised an eyebrow. “Bat got your tongue, Lance?”

              It took him a minute, but Lance found his voice. Not that it was gonna do him any good. “Ummm… I just… have some homework to finish, so…”

              “That would mean that when you said you were done at dinner, you lied,” Keith observed. Shiro reached for the remote. “Pull it out here, then, I have some reading I could do, too.”

              Lance looked horrified at the thought of ruining their plans. He floundered, “No! Uh, you don’t have to do that! I can study on my own, it’s fine!” But Shiro was grabbing their books now, Keith watching Lance carefully. “Okay! Fine! I don’t have any homework!”

              Shiro brightened immediately. “Good! Then c’mere so we can finish the movie; I wanna see how it ends!” How the hell could this giant, terrifying creature of the night be such a pup???

              Lance managed a weak smile at the sight, “Well, I’ve already seen it, so I’ll probably just go to bed, but you guys should definitely stay and watch!” He shot a wary look at Keith, who was shaking his head.

              “Lance, you’re just as nocturnal as we are. Nearly all your classes are at night. And you’re a night owl, anyway. So what’s the big deal?”

              “Don’t you guys ever get sick of it?” Lance finally burst out.

              Shiro and Keith looked at him cautiously. “What are you talking about, Lance?”

              “Come on, Shiro, look at me! The Reaper and all that bull, there’s no way you guys actually want to spend time with me! And even if you did, don’t you ever want just some time with Keith? Well, I’m trying to give that to you, except you guys won’t let me just leave so that I can leave you to it, and oh my God you probably hate me so much for taking up so much of your time, and I can’t believe I did this to you I’m so sorry, I-I just, I can’t, ugh, just let me—” But before Lance could dart for the door, Keith caught hold of his wrist, his own abilities coming in handy to keep ahold of Lance, even as the pictures on the walls and lamps rattled dangerously as Lance’s own powers spiked, black fog seeping out from beneath him. Lance’s eyes were tightly squeezed shut, and Shiro was careful as he approached and put a hand on Lance’s arm.

              “Lance. We like spending time with you, promise.”

              But Lance just shook his head, sobs now wracking his whole body. Keith let out a soft noise, drawing Lance close enough that he could wrap him up in a hug. Shiro enveloped them both, wrapping his arms around Keith’s back, and protecting Lance’s back as he did so. This close, Shiro didn’t need heightened senses to hear Keith whispering reassurances in Lance’s ear, and Shiro let himself join, knowing from past experience that the way his chest “rumbled” would help to soothe Lance further, and soon enough, Lance was swaying as his exhaustion hit him. Keith and Shiro worked together to maneuver Lance down the hall and into their own bed. They knew that this wasn’t going to solve all of their problems, but at least they could be there for their brilliant, bright boy tonight.

[damienthepious]

Going Through Changes, Ripping Out Pages (chapter 4)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ao3] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, (uhhhhh sorta), Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (WE WILL GET THERE…… EVENTUALLY)

Summary: Lord Arum wakes to discover that some things have changed while he slept. Namely, there is a human in his bed.

Chapter Summary: Two conversations, and a little investigation.

~

Damien isn't far, when Rilla finds him again. He’s standing out in the hall near the kitchen, and-

And the Keep has wrapped steady vines around his shoulders, clinging lightly and blooming in soft yellows and blues. Damien has his eyes closed, his expression motionless but tense, his lips tight together as Rilla comes close.

"Damien," she says gently. He probably hears her coming, but she knows how deeply he can get caught up in his own head. He sighs at her voice, clinging to the Keep's vines in turn, but he doesn't open his eyes just yet. "Are you-"

She doesn't quite finish the thought. Are you alright? Stupid question, obviously. Neither of them are. None of them. Damien's lip pulls to the side, a weak sort of grimace, and she steps closer. The Keep makes room, shifting some vines to brush her shoulders as well, a gentle curtain around the both of them as she pulls Damien into a tight hug.

"Rilla," he murmurs. He presses his face into her neck, inhaling sharply and holding her in return. "I… I am sorry I left in such a state. It was- I should not have-I shouldn't have faltered. I couldn't-"

"It's okay, Damien. I know. He- he was being cruel on purpose but you know he doesn't really think that. He couldn't have known it would hurt you like-"

"I know," Damien murmurs, drooping further to rest his forehead against her shoulder. "Of course he doesn't know that those particular cruelties would affect me. A rather cold comfort, I'm afraid, considering that his lack of knowledge is entirely the issue."

Rilla sighs, because obviously Damien is right. The fact that he could hurt them like that by accident- it almost stings worse than if the cut were deliberate. "I sent him to cool off in his workshop," she says softly, and Damien's lip curls into something wry, something that isn't quite a smile.

"I'm sure he was quite amenable to instruction, hm?" he drawls.

Rilla bites back a bitter laugh. "Obviously. I-" she pauses. "I don't know what to do now," she says, only recognizing the feeling as she voices it. "Shit."

It's Damien's turn to tighten his arms, holding her more securely with a quiet, sympathetic noise. The Keep shifts around both of them, humming low and brushing soft leaves over their shoulders, and Rilla looks up, raising an eyebrow.

"What, do you have an idea?" she asks, and she has less than zero clue how the Keep could answer her in a way she can understand, but- "I'm not willing to rule out anything at this point."

The Keep pauses, and then it sings, unsure but hopeful, and pulls open a portal.

Damien and Rilla meet each other's eyes, concern and hope and doubt and pain passing quick and quiet between them, and then Damien takes a steadying breath, takes Rilla's hand, and they both step through.

~

Arum steps into his workshop, the portal disappears behind him, and then he simply closes his eyes and clenches his hands and breathes, until he begins to feel less panicked, less uncertain.

He is too agitated to realize, for quite a few minutes, that he should have been much less agreeable to allowing the little knight to bolt off into his Keep unsupervised, and that doctor as well. When he barks out an irritated question regarding their whereabouts, however, the Keep calmly informs him that the herbalist has just now found the knight, that they are currently in a corridor near the kitchen, simply- talking.

Plotting, he thinks darkly, and then he scowls.

"If you say so," he mutters, and then after a long moment he sighs. "If they will be remaining here until this little mystery is unraveled… well. See that their biological needs are met, at least. Wouldn't do to have them starving before I entirely understand their part in this."

The Keep hums lightly, pointedly, and Arum growls.

"I do not care what sorts of meals they prefer."

The Keep hums again.

"No, I do not."

The Keep says nothing for a moment, and then it gives a very, very gentle trill.

"Well I do not currently, then!" he snarls, throwing two hands in the air emphatically. "What have they done? What did they do to pull you to their side above mine? Are we not two parts of the same whole? I exist to protect you- you are my sole reason for existing- why should either of us care about a pair of interloping humans?"

The Keep pauses, and then sings one short, gentle phrase.

Arum's frill presses tight to his neck, and then he attempts to scoff, folding his arms over his chest in a way that feels unfortunately uncertain.

"... ridiculous," he breathes. "Why should that matter? And- and it is absurd to suggest that they would have enough of a grip on me to effect- to make me- ridiculous."

It sings again, the same short phrase.

"I am-" he snaps his teeth together. "I am already-" he hisses low, feeling his tail thrashing uncomfortably. "It does not matter. What is the value of happiness, Keep? In what way does it serve to ensure your safety?"

The Keep does not sing in response, this time, but Arum can feel the sorrow that pulses through it in its silence.

"See?" he says after a moment, his voice stilted. "You can provide no answer to that, can you? Ridiculous. All of this is absurd. The only thing that matters- the only thing that matters is our survival. These humans are nothing but a threat to that."

The Keep remains silent, and Arum can feel that it is pulling its attention back, retreating from the conversation.

Arum attempts to consider this a victory. Arum resists the impulse to call the Keep's attention back. Arum pretends that the idea of being left entirely alone at this moment does not fill him with-

It does not matter. He sighs, turning his body away, ending the conversation on his own terms, despite the fact that the Keep surrounds him, despite the fact that the Keep chose to fade from attention first.

At last Arum brings his focus to his surroundings, observing his workshop, and he narrows his eyes in confusion as he does.

The experiments he has been working on are gone. Every one of them has disappeared from the space, replaced by newer creatures and tools that he does not recognize. Not only that, but the space- it has been widened slightly as his bedroom was, grown outward to accommodate wider workspaces, more tools.

Arum narrows his eyes even further, realizing that this space, as it currently exists, is meant to have room for two.

Some of the projects appear to be the ordinary fare, new traps and creatures with modifications to help protect themselves and the swamp, but beside them appear to be experiments of decidedly medical intent, and others besides those he cannot seem to determine a reason for in the least. They are magical in nature, of course, but he can see little else from which to glean their purpose.

There is a third pair of fireproof gloves beside his own set of four, now. Slimmer, smaller, carefully stitched. He stares at them for a long moment, an uncomfortable ticking in his throat.

Everything is out of place. Everything.

… He would not even have noticed the scraps of torn parchment shoved unceremoniously into the fireplace, if the colorful splash of the wax seal did not catch his eye. Catch his eye, and then stick there.

Even torn in half, Arum knows the seal of the Senate by sight.

It takes perhaps a half an hour to pull together enough of the scraps that he can reconstruct the letter, at least to the point where it is mostly legible, and his hands are utterly ruined with ash by the time he achieves his goal.

Some is still fragmented. If there were a greeting or a signature they have burned or been torn away, and though Arum can see frequent scatterings of words like Universe and Will and bits and pieces of aggressive posturing, the one paragraph he has managed to restore is edifying enough that he does not feel the need to continue scrabbling through the hearth.

It is the Will of the Universe that the monster collective does as it pleases. The Senate does our utmost to uphold this Will, and it is to our pleasure that the human infection be eradicated. By failing to destroy a growing number of humans - chief among them a healer of their kind, and a monster-killer - you defy the Will of the Senate, and by extension the Will of the Universe itself. You are going destroy them. The Senate assures you, Lord Arum, that it will be your Will to do so. A monster may only defy its nature for so long, and the human infection will destroy you, if you do not destroy your own small infection first.

Arum can see the holes on either side of the parchment, where his own claws must have dug in before he tore the page entirely asunder. His own claws fit neatly in those spaces, and part of him wishes to tear it all asunder yet again, if only for the letter's smug, self-important tone.

Evidence, he thinks vaguely, and the word comes in the little human's confident voice. Mention of a healer and a monster-killer, the doctor and the knight- the letter shredded and half-burned in the hearth- barely legible even after wasting half an hour in the effort-

If this is part of some enormous lie… it would be a nearly impossibly elaborate one.

Arum looks at the small pair of gloves again. He smooths over the torn edges of the letter from the Senate.

The growth within his greenhouse corroborates the timeline the Keep and the humans claim, the year he has lost. A year of making room in his home for these creatures. A year of dulling the sharpness of his claws, a year of experiments he no longer knows, a year of, apparently, deceiving and defying the Senate.

You are going to destroy them.

Arum feels his frill shiver at his neck.

it will be your Will to do so.

Arum's mind churns, confusion and frustration and fear, and he digs his claw into the wax of the Senate's seal. Their words certainly sound like the threat of a curse, to Arum's ears. And if it truly was the Senate who stole a year from him-

(The memory is gone. Utter blankness. Did he truly, honestly risk the safety of his Keep? Did he truly dig his heels in to earn the Senate's ire?)

He needs to speak with the humans again.

[->]

[rainbowywitch]

I am motaz a nurse from Gaza .. married to fedaa a pediatrician .. father of 3 lovely children ..

writing to you these words with tearing eye and a heavy heart ..

it is not easy for me to ask for help from other but being a father of these lovely kids makes me very responsible for their safety and protection so i have to do any thing to keep them safe ..

we lost every thing because of this violent war !

Life here became unaffordale and unsafe for any human ..

please please help me carry my children to safety ..

i wish my words could explain even little abit of what i am carring in my heart

Please donate if you can and share widely 🆘🆘 1100 SEK = 100 dollars each (55 sek =5$) will make a difference🙏🍉 be the one who saves us

Vetted by 90-ghost

My name is Mohamed Jadalhaq, and I currently reside in Sweden. I am reaching out to you today with a sincere plea for assistance. I have initiated a fundraising campaign with the goal of facilitating the safe departure of my brother's family from Gaza to Egypt or any other country where they can find refuge and ensure their safety. The current situation now is quoted from the hadith of my brother Motaz Hello! My name is Motaz Jad Al-Haq, and I am a nurse from Gaza. I am married to Fedaa Al-Nadi, a pediatrician, and together we have three beautiful children: Mohammed (9 years), Omar (7 years), and Nima (4 years). I am reaching out to you with a heartfelt plea for assistance, not just for my family but for the many others facing similar hardships in our region. Since October 7th, the war in Gaza has had a devastating impact on our lives. Our home has been destroyed, our jobs are lost, and everything we once had has been reduced to rubble. Each day, my wife and I volunteer at a local hospital, trying to provide care to the injured and alleviate their suffering. Despite our tireless efforts, neither of us receives any salary, and we are left to live in dire conditions. We have been displaced multiple times, and we now face the daily struggle of securing basic necessities like food and clean water. The reality of our situation is heartbreaking. Every day, we wake up not knowing how we will manage to feed our children or provide them with clean water. This constant anxiety and fear weigh heavily on us, making every day a battle for survival. In addition to our personal struggles, my brother Mohamed Jadalhaq, who resides in Sweden, has initiated a fundraising campaign to help facilitate the safe departure of my family from Gaza. The situation here has deteriorated to the point where finding a safe haven has become a matter of utmost urgency. My brother’s campaign aims to raise funds necessary for us to leave Gaza and find refuge in a safer country, such as Egypt. The estimated cost for this escape is $5000 per adult and $2500 per child. The funds will be used to cover travel expenses and basic living costs in Egypt until we can rebuild our lives away from the ongoing conflict. Throughout this crisis, our family has shown remarkable resilience. Despite the destruction and emotional toll, we continue to support our community in any way we can. My wife, Fedaa, faces immense psychological pressure as she works tirelessly to provide medical care to children in need. My role as a nurse has also been challenging, but we remain committed to helping those affected by the war. We kindly ask for your support to make this journey possible. Your donations, no matter how small, can make a significant difference. They can provide us with a meal, a clean water bottle, or a moment of safety in these difficult times. Each contribution brings hope and alleviates our suffering, giving us strength to face another day. Please consider donating to this cause and sharing our campaign with your friends and family. Your generosity can offer us the opportunity to escape this turmoil and find a more secure environment where we can begin to rebuild our lives. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your kindness and support. Your compassion can truly transform our lives and bring us hope for a brighter future. Warm regards, Motaz Jad Al-Haq

[kentuckywrites]

Imperium: Cauldros

Ego semper amo. (I will always love you.)

The Beacon was one of several points that led directly to the planet’s heart. The continent it resided in had been overtaken by industrialization, turned into a burning hellscape. He couldn’t remember what it looked like before the fire consumed it, but the planet did. The image was shared between them. He would mourn the loss of life, but deep in the fire there was new life blooming. Deep in the Beacon would be where the planet created its new form, its very own life. 

The climb up to the Beacon’s highest point was a daunting task. His two legs carried him up the entire way, but screamed in fatigue during the latter half of the trip. The heat of the continent was getting under his skin, making him uncomfortable. But he reminded himself that he was here with a purpose. 

Today, the planet would no longer be a voice in his head, but a companion to walk alongside. As he stood before the gaping mouth of the Beacon, he held a number of flora in his arms, the ingredients he would add to the planet’s new form. He stole a few breaths before the planet spoke, the air hot and humid.

“Are you ready?”

“More than we will ever be,” He replied, unable to contain the anticipation that laced his voice. 

“Good. Throw what you have gathered into the Beacon.”

He did so without hesitation. The flora crumpled into the lava below, and in seconds ether began to form, began to rise into the air. The ground rumbled beneath his feet, but he was not scared. The scene before him was too mesmerizing, too pivotal to ignore.

Some of the lights began to condense and press into each other, creating a larger mass. He watched as legs began to take shape, arms, a torso, a head. The planet hummed softly, a sign that things were going well.

“You chose many of your offerings from Noct’ikai-lysium and Siy’valis-um, I see.”

“We wished for you to take inspiration from their light,” He explained, “From the energy that they harbor. They were hand picked from some of your highest locations, where the stars kissed each and every one at night.”

“The stars, you say?...I have an idea.”

As the body was taking fruition - a humanoid, certainly modeled after the humans that had crash landed not long ago - the planet mumbled directions to itself.

“This form will have fair skin and black hair, a contrast of light and dark found in Siy’valis-um. Their eyes...their eyes will be full of stars.”

The body’s face then turned to him, and he was met with wide, indigo eyes. They were pupiless and unblinking, but they held an unspeakable universe within them, an otherworldly hint that only he and the planet could understand. 

“Pong’netai-opta,” He breathed.

The planet chuckled.

“This would be considered an abnormality to the human race, but in this state, I cannot help but -”

The ground quivered again, but this time it was accompanied by what could only be described as a shock wave. The Beacon fluctuated, pulsating as the ether in the air flickered. 

The planet gasped. 

It was in pain.

“Where did my power go?”

He felt his heart ache, his stomach do somersaults inside his body. The planet, his beloved planet, was hurting. He didn’t know what to do, if he could do anything. The body they had created together suddenly threw itself from the sky and down back into the Beacon, ether trailing behind it. He cried out, and in sync, the planet screamed.

And then, the Beacon was tamed, and the ground grew still. He stared down at the Beacon, all remnants of ether gone without a trace.

“Are you there?”

His question went unanswered, but the silence gave the only answer he needed.

“Recover, dear friend. If your body did not form, then call upon us as you need. We love you.”

And he walked down the Beacon, his head heavy with regrets. Despite what he’d said, he felt a sense of relief. He was alone once more, but at least now he had a purpose to serve, a reason to keep living.

If the planet’s form survived, he would find it. If not, he knew what it wanted to achieve. He would be the one to help humanity survive.

~

No words were spoken on the flight to Cauldros. Elma and Lin didn’t ask Pongo where he had been, didn’t ask for clarification on what had happened during those long three months. Neither did L, to be fair, but at least he could pick up some of the clues and piece them together. Perhaps Elma and Lin had done the same.

Pongo had mentioned how drilling for miranium had weakened the planet, how Mira couldn’t communicate with most of its creations now. It was a sentient force, one that connected every living being that inhabited its surface, even L. Being spoken to was a rare occurrence, but feeling its power within him, its will? That was not a foreign sensation. It was akin to the Orpheans and their Ovah, a gut feeling inside his stomach, his heart, his mind - but in the end Mira was its own life force, not a virus, and it communicated through its miranium. 

And over the months after Pongo’s disappearance, there had been a number of cases regarding broken mining probes. Some had even disappeared from their positions. BLADE was startled about the whole ordeal; L recalled how Kirsty seemed abnormally panicked about it. It was hard not to be concerned, given how probes weren’t just the source of their miranium, but provided crucial data for BLADE by researching their surrounding area. BLADE had come to rely on the probes so much that they didn’t have a backup plan, and as a result the economy took a tumble. L hadn’t gotten that many customers at his store, nor any BLADEs requesting to use the augment machine. It was dismal, to say the least, especially after three months of never finding the culprit.

But, given what Mira wanted - what Mira would kill humanity for - the reasoning became clear. 

L’s hands clutched the controls of his Skell, his gaze intense as Mount M’Gando grew closer on the horizon. He’d been scared of this, of Pongo following in his footsteps, becoming a weapon for the planet’s devices. But this was different, he had to concede. At least Mira had told Pongo its plan. At least they were working together towards the same goal from the start. L could only pray that things didn’t turn out like it had for him. 

“Mount M’Gando, the Beacon of Mira,” Pongo’s voice echoed over the intercom, full of awe. “It is one of three entryways to the heart of the planet, but only this one can return me completely.”

“I assume your plan was to fall into the volcano, and the heat would disintegrate your body back into its original state?” Elma asked, a question that came across as more cold and morbid than L anticipated. 

“Exactly! It should be painless, but ah...well, I have never done this before, so I am not certain!” 

“You sound too excited for a suicide mission,” Lin said.

Pongo paused. “This will save Mira and all its inhabitants. I find it hard to be sad or scared about that.”

L opened his mouth, the makings of a complaint forming on his lips, but words escaped him. Pongo was a stubborn man. No amount of convincing could change his mind on what would benefit the human race, the indigens of Mira, all life he had grown to love and care for. 

It was admirable, almost to a fault. 

Time seemed to quicken, and with the blink of an eye L had landed his Skell next to Lin’s on the top of Mount M’Gando. Pongo and Elma exited their Skells first, followed by Lin. L hesitated, taking a deep breath before climbing out to greet the stifling Cauldros air. The warmth of the volcano abused his skin, smoke and ash and fire attacking all his senses. It was a companion to the stress he was trying to swallow down. At least the others would be able to attribute his sweat and heightened nerves to the heat.

Elma pulled out her comm device, and from the screen L could make out a new message. She scanned over it before addressing Pongo. “Vandham just informed me that Pharsis may be closer to escaping than they originally believed. He’s given me an estimate of two hours until she breaks free.”

Pongo didn’t respond. He had inched closer to the edge of the volcano’s mouth, staring down at the lava below. He was faced away from L, but he knew what his best friend was thinking. His silence spoke a thousand words, a tale of love and hurt. They were both sad that his story had to end so soon.

“So...this is it,” Lin said, her voice wavering as she tried to sound strong, “Do you really want to go through with this? Maybe we can find another way…”

“No.” Pongo’s fists curled at his sides, “This is the fastest way to ensure your safety. My death will reconnect the Endbringer to Mira, and she will fortify the prison the Everqueen is sealed in.”

“We could still fly to Noctilum!” She cried, “Maybe it would recognize you and you could -”

“Lin.”

Finally Pongo turned, and L’s eyes widened as he saw tears in his eyes. “I promise, everything will be okay. One life for millions - how could I decline?”

“Don’t you DARE.”

L was surprised to hear himself say that, and judging by the others’ looks, they shared the sentiment. But he couldn’t stop himself from continuing. “We understand the weights you are trying to shoulder, but we know you too well, we know you believe your life does not compare to any others!”

“L’Cirufe, please, this is not about that!” Pongo choked on a sob, “I refuse to watch you all die when there is something I can do to stop this!!”

“Don’t forgive our selfishness, but we would rather witness the world’s destruction than to lose you!! Have you failed to understand just how wide our love is for you?!”

There was a pause as L’s confession sank into Pongo’s heart, clung to his soul. L almost didn’t register Elma’s hand on his upper arm, too short to reach his shoulder. Lin switched her gaze between L and Pongo too many times to count, shivering despite the heat.

“We know, L’Cirufe.”

L squinted, and he saw that Pongo’s eyes had turned white. They’d flashed white that fateful day in the city, his body spasming as he fought for control, but now he was collected, free of pain. L stepped forward, and Elma stayed behind. He walked past a frightened and conflicted Lin until he was a mere foot away from Pongo - or rather, Mira.

“He has fond memories of your time together,” Mira said, solemn and wistful though the memories he spoke of weren’t his own, “And it is because of those memories that he wants to do this. You...you mean a lot to him, just as you did to me. And once he returns to me, you and the life I have created will be free of this evil. He wants that for you more than anything.”

“You must be Mira,” Elma came up behind L, standing by his right side. Through all that had happened, she remained calm, though this close L started to hear her voice shake. “You’re certain that this is the quickest way to stop Pharsis from escaping?”

Mira nodded. “It is.”

“And this will kill Pongo.”

“...It will destroy this body. I can preserve his memories and recreate a new body for him once I have regained more strength.”

“For that, you’ll need more miranium,” Lin said, approaching from L’s left, “We can do that! I can pull some strings and get some of the arms manufacturers to pull their probes.”

“I can also put in a good word with HQ,” Elma grinned softly as the new information dawned on her. “Rest assured, we’ll do what we can to help you. After all, you’ve helped us for so long without reward...it’s only reasonable to do the same in return.”

Mira wiped away some of Pongo’s tears with a gentle hand before extending it to shake. “Thank you...thank you both.”

In a twist of events, Elma didn’t take Mira’s hand. Instead, she rushed forward, embracing him in a tight hug. Lin did the same, and Mira’s hands wrapped around them both, Lin’s sobs muffled by the raging volcano. It was only after a few moments, only when Mira looked up and his eyes returned to Pongo’s indigo, only when he extended a hand for L to join, that he hugged them all and shook with the fever of his bottled emotions. 

The hug ended too soon. The three stepped away from the one, but Pongo kept his gaze on them, his smile betraying his eyes. “So...this is goodbye, for now.”

“When you get back, you owe me a hot chocolate,” Lin managed to grin, wiping away her tears with a sniffle.

“A hot chocolate, and the biggest, bestest hug,” Pongo added on.

“It’s hard to say goodbye, but I’ll remain hopeful for your speedy return,” Elma said, and L saw that she was crying too, though her tears were silent and refined. They shone like crystals, the light of the volcano reflecting off of them like stars in a vast sea. 

Pongo reached out to L, and their hands entwined. His hands were much smaller than L’s, a collection of skin and sturdy fabric. The parts of his skin that he could feel were slightly calloused, but they held onto L with such a soft and delicate strength. It was a power only Pongo could manage, and they remained a pillar for L’s shaking palms.

“I am sorry for how we left things in Oblivia,” Pongo whispered, “Even in my shock, you did not deserve that sort of treatment. And I am sorry I will not be able to make that up to you, at least not for a while.”

“Perhaps you can owe us a hot chocolate as well,” L said.

“I owe you so much more than that, L’Cirufe.”

Pongo pulled L’s arms downwards until they were at Pongo’s eye level. Staring into Pongo’s eyes, L saw the world, the night sky made bright and beautiful and contained within a single soul. He got lost within them, and he only found his way back when Pongo’s lips met his own. It was a gentle kiss, mimicking how his hands had taken L’s. Now he knew for certain that Pongo was his world, no, his universe. He was every star and asteroid and all of the galaxies that they comprised. He was infinite, so full of possibilities and brimming with life. 

He couldn’t let go. Not like this.

And so the kiss ended, and Pongo stepped back. With a final squeeze of L’s hands, his lips parsed open, finding the perfect words to end a perfect moment.

“Promise me that you will continue to live, and to bring life.”

L could only nod. How come words failed him when they came so easily to Pongo? When his hands let go, L suddenly went cold. This was it. 

Pongo turned towards the volcano once again, and with one deep breath, he stepped into the open air, his body plummeting down into the lava below. Lin gasped, and Elma clutched the young Outfitter as she weeped. L was frozen in place. Watching. Waiting.

Minutes passed. It felt like hours, to L. But eventually the ground began to shake, and lava exploded upwards not in a show of reds and oranges, but in wisps of blues and greens. He discovered it was ether when it kissed his skin, when he felt rejuvenated and whole. It rained down on them all like the energy mist of Sylvalum, and in the distance, L saw the lights of the Telethia’s wings. It roared shortly after, having reached its destination. L watched as it circled the Noctilucent Sphere, the prison of Pharsis the Everqueen, but beyond that the small details were uncertain. When the ground returned to its normal state, when the Telethia gave its final screech before heading back in the direction of Noctilum, Elma’s comm device started ringing. She took it out, and Lin and L crowded around, praying that whatever they were about to hear was good news.

“The Telethia came around, and now the sphere’s gone quiet. Crisis averted, for now. What’d you guys do?”

Vandham’s tone was confused, but the proclamation was a much needed relief. Elma quickly told him, “We’ll brief you on the details when we’re back in the city. For now, let’s celebrate our success.”

She put her comm device away, and then spoke to Lin and L again. “Let’s go home.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. But L couldn’t help but stay behind for a moment as it fully sunk in that Pongo’s Skell wouldn’t be returning with them to NLA. He made a silent promise to return for it before the three entered their Skells and began their flight home.

~

Secretary Nagi and Vandham were informed of Pongo’s sacrifice. Elma had told them not to mourn, for if time was kind and their efforts fruitful, he would return home soon. They weren’t told why or how, simply that his sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.

Life continued as normal. L’s shop took precedence in his life, and business boomed, especially after some new environmentally friendly technology found its way into his hands. Jejebba ran errands most the time, leaving L to man the shop alone most days, but sometimes a familiar face would pop by. Sometimes it was Elma, having a day off from BLADE duties to stand by and chat during quiet moments. Sometimes it was Lin, who brought along new inventions and materials to market to potential buyers. Sometimes it was Mia, who more often than not stuck around for idle conversation rather than to buy anything he had to offer. Every friend who came by, regardless of their intent, was appreciated.

L fell into routine again, throwing himself into his work. Sometimes he mixed things up by joining BLADEs for a field mission or two, but those were rare treats. Besides, the city life was exciting enough, especially after the events involving Pharsis. He gave himself a day to mourn, and distracted himself enough that his grief faded into the background. 

The nights gave him time to think, time to stew in his memories of those long and painful months. There were nights he cried himself to sleep, though he would never mention that to his friends. There were nights that an indigo-eyed Interceptor plagued his dreams, promising him that he’d be home soon. There were nights were L believed it, and there were nights that L didn’t.

But he never forgot. It would disservice Pongo’s memory, Pongo’s life, Pongo’s wishes. 

And so he pressed on. A day came that was like most others, a busy weekend full of profits. Jejebba was with him today, convincing a potential customer to buy some strange replica of a red and blue geometric sword. It reminded L of Lin’s hairpins, and he wondered for a moment how she was doing. She hadn’t stopped by in a while, probably busy with her division duties. His thoughts about his friends consumed him as he fiddled with some extra supplies behind his tent, and he almost didn’t catch the audible gasps and murmurs of excitement outside. Curious, he finished up his organizing and poked his head around the corner of his tent.

There were a decent amount of people around his shop, so L initially thought that Jejebba had done a damn good job of presenting some knick-knack to them. But they weren’t focused on the Manon. No, they were focused on another human standing among the crowd, and that man was staring at L with slightly creased indigo eyes, holding a styrofoam cup in his hand. L had to do a double take, then a triple take. 

“I know I said I owe you more than a hot chocolate,” Pongo said, “But I figured it could be a good start.”

And from there, the rest was history, mapped out in their hearts like the constellations of Mira’s night sky.

[featherwurm]

(A chimera patrols the horizon - from a dream I had the other night.)

The Walker and the Dreamer

The Walker lives in a ruined world. Humanity has only survived in tight and highly militarized cells where they can eek a living out in highly protected fortresses and caves.  It is a grim world with little joy and even less love.  In the vast wastes the Chimeras patrol – immense and a jarringly intense affront to the senses, they are bright, patchwork colorful, and loud.  They render the earth behind them into senseless muck, and the sky into a grim gray fog.  All around them life suffers and perishes.

The Walker has had a fairly typical life one one born into low stature here.  She was raised in a cold off-handed way, and works odd jobs to get by.  Life, from the outside, seems grim, but here is plain and straightforward.  Wake, work, eat, sleep, and hope to never be caught out in the open by horrors or abused by those with guns and status.  But there is a day where she awakens in unfamiliar surroundings, somewhere surprisingly clinical for the grim and gritty world in which she lives, and finds beside her a tablet with a set of instructions to follow.

-

An entire universe aware the Dreamer walks through her lucid dream.  This one is incredibly bright and vivid, even for a dream and even for one experienced in consciousness through dreams.  A strange and beautiful marketplace meets her, full of the strangest of wares.  There are things that seem to be made for her, though simple in craft, destined for her hand.  There are pieces of memories, hints of desires, and many many simple wants.  It is chaos, but in the haze of dreaming filled with love and peace and joy.

In this dreamscape she encounters eight people she recognizes from her own life.  Of course this is all just dreaming – her dreaming.  They enjoy the market and each other's company.  

As the days pass, she has more and more dreams in this vein, and the nine of them come to realize their dreams have perhaps become blended, none can say, and none wish to ask too much about it, for there is so much life in their time together in dreaming that they will enjoy it for themselves alone.

-

The Walker follows her instructions, strange though they seem.  Safety and stability in her world are so rare that even this strange situation seems to be relief from a dangerous and insecure life.  In her clinical hell she wanders its maze-like corridors, retrieving items and placing others where dictated.  Some of the halls are clean and well kept, others are ruinous and miserable to traverse.  She only rarely encounters others, and they are distant to her, paying her little heed.  She is equipped with very little, but is always given tools needed for her task, and finds somewhere safe to rest in between demands.

She cannot place where she is or who commands her, but it seems something governmental and experimental. Those she encounters wear face shields or gas masks, she cannot identify them but her face is clear to them.  She seems very alien in this world and she rapidly begins to grow tired of the command and the mystery.  

Day after day she has done as told, but today – today she runs.

-

For the dreamer the shared dream begins to change and become very strange.  Where once it was bright and unique it begins to seem more and more mundane.  The shop's wares become more conventional.  They are certainly still interesting, but they are now much more familiar to the waking world than to dreams. They had seemed so personal, but have begun to seem mass-manufactured.  Where there was once rich memory there is now only weak nostalgia.  Price tags have begun to appear, shopkeepers, once mysterious and aloof are now barkers and buskers.  It is so little a change but it all feels so wrong.  All of the dreamers notice it, but feel helpless to alter it.

-

The Walker flees through hallways and corridors, and those figures that once seemed so aloof have now become hostile.  They shout commands, they plead for cooperation, they demand obedience – but she has had enough and seeks an escape. Strangely, as she runs she finds there is no door she cannot open, nothing is locked before her, even when before she had felt caged. She cannot seem to find a lock in this strange and seemingly unending maze.

-

The Dreamer meets once again with her eight companions and their dreamscape is a sorry thing, riddled with the mundane and the banal.  They take lunch together, surrounded by their purchased wares, the same as the would in the real world. Still they try to make the most of their time together, and they fail to notice in their lively conversation that a tenth has joined them at the table at which they are seated.  It worms their way into their conversation and at last, holding their attention at a table full of many goods it asks in a commanding voice

“What here is most desirable?”

This invites more conversation, brisk and friendly, but it grows divisive and argumentative.  The nine friends debate the merits of all around them, but, at last they concede there is once piece of art at the table they would all value most highly for themselves.

And with that the world is drained around them, while the color and light and sound remain the same, they are suddenly dulled as though drained of all vitality and meaning.  The tenth at the table, takes the prize for itself, seemingly pleased that it has found what it desires, and left the world surrounding it gray and meaningless.  Nothing has changed, and yet all sense of meaning in craft and execution – all feeling good or ill is gone.

The dreamer is shocked, this is not her world, there is still enough in her to find horror at how everything has drained away.  While her friends seem only to vaguely mourn, she tries to summon the worth and value of even the most mundane of their treasures so that they may have some richness.  It is difficult alone but she argues

“Everything has value... has merit.”

Her friends look to her for this guidance, and it strengthens her.  Color begins to flicker around her.

“Value is only in the eye of the beholder, and we are all different.”

“Yes!” Another chimes in “and it's arbitrary nature is human!”

Others chime in and around them the world flicks back to life, and even the mundanites seem to peel off. Around them the world changes back to dreaming as this figure shrinks away and screams.  It drops is prize, and seems to suffer the effects the re-constructing dream around it, shriveling it into some tiny form.

-

The Walker is pinned by her assailants against a wall.  Despite cleverness, speed, and luck on her side, it would seem that has all run out.  

“It is for your own good”

“It is for all OUR own good” they say, these masked people (or are they creatures?) say.

She focuses on the wall behind her. Some of the doors in her way had been stuck when she tried them first, but if she willed them, they would open.  She pushes, it could be open.  She feels it shift.  She falls.  She is on the other side and can sense their anger and horror – but she has not entered another room, she falls into a void of starlight and shadow.

She falls and falls and falls, and at last lands hard on a table of nine friends who have just seemed to endure something great and terrible together.  

The dreamer helps her to her feet – she is unharmed but deeply confused.   The companions are all gathered about something – a small broken thing, faintly smoking with an iridescent shimmer.  She too, is drawn to it, but upon seeing it draws back in horror.

“That is a CHIMERA!”

The others look to her in confusion. She is white with horror, but the thing itself is very small and very dead.

This world knows nothing of the Chimeras and the horrors they have written over the world of the Walker, and she and the Dreamer have much to discuss.

It will take the two of them a long journey to save the Walker's world, and ensure the Dreamer's does not have the same fate.

-

In the late 21st century, mega-corporations enlisted the help of their lap dog government to develop a new technology aimed at marketing to people in their dreams.  Through the misuse of this technology, which devastated the mind and broke down the barrier between the real and the dream, strange and dangerous creatures came forth with a desire to own all things of 'value' in the world for their own.  If they could not have these things, they would destroy them.  If they could have them, then nothing else mattered and they would destroy everything around them anyway.  These are the Chimeras which now haunt and destroy the waking world of the Walker, and threaten the stability of the world of the Dreamer.

The Walker has the ability to bodily walk through any reality – fully realized there is no barrier to her between sleep and waking, and between universes and realities. She cannot act upon them but as one person.  For that she needs the Dreamer.

The Dreamer has the ability to alter both her own dreams and the dreams of others – fully realized she can create, destroy, inspire, and repair the damages that have been done to the universes of these people.  She needs the Walker to get there.

There is much on their shoulders, and they will be proven through terrible trials.