#like even a member of sees gets killed off!!!!!!!

[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, but I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[hoshifighting]

the sex ''ick's'' seventeen would give

WARNINGS: it's just for fun, and it doesn't match what the members do out there—so if you don't like, dont read.

seungcheol: his damn ass clapping louder than anything else in the room. like, the rhythm is giving standing ovation, and he’s completely unaware. if you dare mention it, he’ll pretend he didn’t hear.

jeonghan: he’d spend the whole day teasing you, promising he’s gonna ruin you later, only to nut in two minutes flat or tap out ‘cause his arms are tired “ugh, it’s so hot in here,” or “my legs are cramping.”

joshua: crying after nutting. he’s suddenly sniffling, you even got startled on the first time, his body getting REALLY sensitve.

junhui: he’ll mirror your moans, badly. you moan? he mimics it, but it sounds like a parody. like, he thinks he’s harmonizing, but it’s straight-up cringe. you try to ignore it, but he just keeps going.

hoshi: fucking u fully naked, except for his damn stoompas (those ugly-ass luxury brand chunky shoes). “they give me grip,” he’d say, like he’s at a crossfit competition, not blowing your back out. the sight of those big-ass sneakers ruins the vibe every time. (illustrative photos)

wonwoo: absolutely no facial expressions. man could be balls deep in you, and his face is blank, like he’s doing math in his head. but in fact, he's just daydreaming.

woozi: soundtrack enthusiast. he’d insist on playing a playlist he made just for you, but it’s all anime OSTs. like, nothing kills the vibe faster than hearing some intense battle music while he’s thrusting.

minghao: if you’re on top, he’d start giving unsolicited feedback. “tilt your hips a little more—yeah, like that. now, slower.” thinks he’s teaching a masterclass while you’re just trying to survive on his cock.

mingyu: checking himself out mid-thrust. fixing his hair in the mirror. if you call him out with a “are you fucking me or yourself?” he’d blush “n-no, I’m focusing on you!”

seokmin: laughs during the dirtiest parts, like a full belly laugh because he’s nervous or thinks something’s funny. he just goes, “HAHAHA—ah! sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” it’s cute tho...

seungkwan: every little thing is exaggerated—he’s gasping like he’s in a soap opera, grabbing his chest like he’s about to faint. you move slightly? “oh my god, I’m gonna DIE babe!”

vernon: won’t take off his adidas tracksuit. every damn time, it’s on—jacket unzipped, pants pushed down, and he’s acting like this is perfectly normal. while you're getting dizzy almost, from the adidas long lines, and from seeing this tracksuit for the zillionth time this month. [im feeling it too personally bc my dad uses tracksuit's often 😭]

chan: overexplaining everything he’s doing. like, “okay, so now I’m gonna flip you over, and then I’ll go deeper, and—”

[tofics]

Broken - Chapter 7

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: A year has passed since Joel and Ellie have returned to Jackson when he finds you on patrol, half frozen and half burning up. Jackson takes you in and nurses you back to health, welcoming you as the newest member of their community. The more time passes, Joel realizes that you and him have more in common than he likes… Until one day, everything changes and you get a gift that he’ll never get.

Word Count: ~8k words

This chapter is very dark. Reader discretion is advised.

Warnings/tags: show canon violence, clear intentions of killing, mentions of mental melt-downs, description of (underage) SA, cursing

Chapter 7 - Shared Pain Is Still Pain

The door to the room flies open and crashes against the wall with a loud bang, making the pregnant lady jump. Joel feels remorse for a split second before he appears in his line of sight and Joel sees nothing but red again. His hands dig into the man's collar with the determined grip of a python, yanking him off his chair with ease in spite of the man's size and mass.

Neither height nor weight stand a chance against Joel's rage. He slams the asshole into the nearest wall, wishing it was made of something sturdier than wood, something more gravelly perhaps or spikey even. Out of the corner of his eye, he registers movement, but he ignores it. Although the bastard’s head connected with the surface with a loud thump, it's not enough, nor is the dazed expression in his eyes after the impact.

"You like touching on little girls, hm?" Joel's voice is as cold as ice. The steps behind him come to a sudden stop. A quick sideway glance at Tommy tells him his words have struck a cord with his little brother, just like they had with Joel when you'd spat them out.

Joel slams the asshole against the wood once more. "Hm? Like how helpless they are, yeah? You get off on that, big man?"

"Joel." Maria's voice carries through the room with authority, her unspoken command clear. Stand down. But Joel doesn't obey, nor do his hands release the pig's collar. He feels his lips quivering in disgust as he stares into the bastard's eyes. It's taking every ounce of strength he has not to put an end to this pig’s life right here, right now.

"Maria," Joel pushes out between clenched teeth. "Might wanna take her out of the room." He cocks his head at the pregnant woman without ever taking his eyes off of his target. "She don't have to see this."

Immediately, the woman starts to protest, and Joel feels a fleeting tinge of worry for her and the unborn child in her belly. Images of Sarah's mom cloud his vision, belly and ankles swollen. Stress ain't good for the baby. The doctor had put her on bedrest for the last three weeks.

Over the loud protests, Maria instructs two men to remove the now screaming lady from the room and then closes the door behind them. “Don’t - don’t hurt her-“ The man’s cut off by another violent shove against the wall. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Joel seethes. He’s grabbed the pig by his face, forcing his jaw shut by way of his fingers. They dig into the flesh with force, strong enough to leave bruises behind. “You think we’re scum like you, hm? Think we get off on hurting women like you do?” Joel’s spit lands just inches beside the scum’s ear. He has the decency to flinch, staring daggers into Joel’s face, but he keeps his trap shut.

"Joel," Maria warns again, but Joel’s grip doesn't loosen. If it did, his hands might wander straight to the man's throat instead, and he tells Maria so.

He hears her sigh behind him and then Tommy's right his side; a soothing hand on his back. "Liam's got a gun on him. He tries anything, we shoot. You can let go, brother." Tommy pats him on the back but doesn't urge him on. He knows him well.

Joel takes a couple more breaths, his face still distorted into a mask of disgust and fury. It feels like a monumental feat, but he manages to pry his fingers loose from the bastard eventually.

When he steps away, the other guy doesn't move from where Joel shoved him into the wall, just rightens himself slightly. Joel's delighted to see the man's hand come away soiled with blood after he touches it to the back of his head. It puts a grim smile on Joel's face.

He hasn't had much cause for blood-thirst as of late. Not since he rescued Ellie from the Fireflies. He became calmer after that, soothed by the safety Jackson had to offer and all that came with it. It changed him for the better, brought out more of the Joel he had been before the world had gone to shit and Sarah had been ripped from him. Her jarring loss had twisted something inside of him that only Ellie had managed to untangle. She'd made him softer in many ways, rounded out his hard and jagged edges where twenty years of brutal survival had chipped away at him.

But now that bloodlust has been rekindled inside of him, and the flames are licking up his insides, asking to be unleashed. Joel sees fire, and he wants to burn this man to the fucking ground until nothing but ashes are left of him.

As promised, Liam has his rifle trained on the man's chest. He's a good and loyal man, and Joel trusts him, but his hands are still itching to take the rifle from his hands and empty its magazine into the chest it's pointed at.

"So." Maria drags a chair over to herself and puts one leg up on the seat, her elbow casually resting on her knee.

"You wanna tell us in your own words what had one of our people react to you the way she did?"

Joel's glad to hear Maria's phrasing. One of our people. He knows Jackson's decision are run through the entire council. No one here decides anything monumental on their own, especially not the fates of potential newcomers. But he also knows that Maria's opinion carries weight with the rest of the council-members. It makes her phrasing of you as one Jackson’s own all the more meaningful.

"Go on," Joel urges when the man makes no move to open his mouth, just stares ahead blankly. His own hands are twitching, ready to beat the information out of him if necessary. Just give me a reason, Joel thinks. Lord knows he already has reason enough to beat this asshole to pulp.

Silence settles over the room. Four pairs of eyes rest on the man’s face, but he avoids all of them, just stares ahead blankly at the door he'd presumably love to leave through.

"Listen, you ain't doin' yourself any favors by not talkin," Tommy tries in what Joel recognizes as his ally-tone. "Better to hear it from you than someone else. You want a shot at livin' here? Give us your perspective."

"No way in hell we're letting that asshole stay-," Joel begins, but Tommy shuts him up with a look.

"Everybody gets their fair trial. That includes bein' heard out," his little brother chides him and Joel has to bite down on his lips to hold back a remark. Has to remind himself that this is why he wants Ellie to grow up here, and not in a QZ, with FEDRA and their sadistic version of what 'fair' means.

"He's right." Maria takes out a notepad and pen and looks at the scum expectantly, although there's no kindness in her eyes, just a neutral expression on her face. "Now let me tell you how this goes. You talk, we listen. We, that's our council. We decide things together in this town. You're gonna have a chance to tell your story to each of us individually. After that, we'll discuss your case within the council. It's in your best interest to stick to the same story. We'll all be taking notes and comparing them, so any discrepancies will be noted and followed up on. There’ll be a vote in the end about whether or not you get to stay. Any questions?"

Joel listens to Maria explain the town's prosecution process and can't help but feel like she is reading the man his rights. If you can't afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you. The wording from the old Miranda warning echoes in Joel's head, a remnant of a life that is long gone. Probably made one hell of a lawyer back in the day, he thinks and promptly feels a profound sense of pride for his sister-in-law.

Joel's head is swimming when he leaves the interrogation room two hours later. What a goddamn fucked up world we live in, he thinks as he heads out to find you.

Something like this was bound to happen, of course. Eventually, something was bound to disturb Jackson's peace. He just didn't expect it would come in the form of a rapist of all things, much less be brought in on his own damn horse. It sickens him to his stomach that him and Jeff are the ones who brought this evil into town, even if it happened unknowingly and with the best intentions.

Amber - the pregnant lady - is bound to give birth any day now, according to Jackson’s resident doctor. Joel could’ve told you as much on his own. By the looks of her swollen belly, it was clear that she’d be due soon. When him and Jeff came upon them, it had seemed like a no-brainer that they'd bring her and her husband back to Jackson with them. After all, they were a couple in need, and Jackson had both the space and resources to help.

It only occurs to Joel now that besides you, these are the first people he has brought into town. What are the odds that his second charitable act since becoming a member of Jackson could cause such a disruption?

His head is throbbing, both from what he's heard during the last two hours and a consistent worry about you. He needs to hear your version of what he's been told, but most of all, he needs to find you and make sure you're okay.

After what he witnessed not too long ago, Joel can't shake the looming worry that with the town's newest arrivals, your mental state is on the brink of a crisis and a meltdown is imminent. He just hopes he can catch you before you fall too deep.

Your visceral attack from this morning plays out in his mind again. He sees the fury in your eyes as you lunge at the man and bring a knife to his throat in a speed he did not think you were capable of. He’s sure that if he hadn't intervened, you'd have split that man open without hesitation.

Joel quickens his pace. He needs to find you.

You're showing Ellie how to bottle-feed the lambs when Joel all but bursts into the barn with a panicked look on his face. You can see the panic give away to confusion when he takes in the scene in front of him, just seconds before relief settles over his features, just a hint of suspicion remaining.

You can't blame him, of course. You know exactly what he was expecting to find, especially after he couldn’t find you at yours or his own house. It’s likely he looked there first. You would've left a note, had you been to either place before you came here, but you didn't trust yourself enough to allow yourself even the smallest of breaks.

You just walked straight across town to where you knew Ellie was working on the town’s barrier with her security crew. She seemed surprised to see you, and you could see the same hint of worry flickering in her eyes that Joel is now regarding you with. You couldn’t blame her either - it was taking all of your strength and then some to stay collected and to not fall apart at the seams.

Ellie didn’t hesitate when you asked her to come with you. You tried to keep the urgency out of your voice, to allow her the chance to stay out of your misery if she wanted to. She had already witnessed one of your meltdowns and you were hesitant to include her in another one, already feeling shameful that your legs had brought you here, to a teenager of all things, when you were a grown woman and supposed to be in charge of your own feelings. But next to Joel, she was the one who made Jackson feel like home; a faint echo of your own daughter.

You couldn’t deny that it was also worry that had driven you here and not just a need for companionship. With the personification of your worst nightmare having set foot into town, you needed to make sure that she was safe. You would sooner die than let that bastard lay a hand on her.

To Ellie’s credit, she didn’t ask beyond what was necessary. She accepted your answer of the barn as your destination without further inquiries, and didn’t even press on when you responded with “not yet” to the question of whether she should be worried.

You would have to tell her eventually, but you didn’t have the words just then. Not in the moment where he was being interrogated on the other side of town.

About what he had done.

About where she was.

About if he had lied; if she was truly still alive.

You didn’t have the strength to find the necessary words to explain yourself in a way that wouldn’t rip Ellie of whatever innocence she had left.

At the barn, you started prepping bottles and explained some of the vital factors to take note of when taking care of little lambs. Ellie listened intently, asking questions in all the right places. You loved her dearly for it. There was no hiding of the fact that you were teetering on the brink of madness, but Ellie either had enough instinct for self-preservation or your emotional needs not to question your lecture. You were almost certain that she recognized this barn excursion for what it was: an attempt at self-regulation.

As Ellie and you fed the little baby sheep, you tried your best to stay focused on the task at hand and to abandon all thoughts of the man Jackson's guards had taken into custody, but his words kept echoing in your head.

She's still alive.

You didn't allow yourself to think about what that could possibly mean, not even for a second. No lambs in the world could have saved you then, Ellie or no Ellie present.

But now, Joel is standing in the doorway of the barn, panting and visibly relieved to find you in such a 'composed' state, even though you're hanging on by a thread and your strength for self-regulation is slowly running out.

Ellie looks up when you stop talking mid-sentence about the correct way to hold a lamb's throat during feeding and notices Joel in the doorway. You feel her eyes going from Joel to you and back to Joel, and the shame for having dragged a teenager to the barn with you in an attempt to keep yourself calm washes over you once more. Here you are, at thirty-six years old, reliant on the presence of a teenager to keep yourself together.

Pathetic.

Worse than that, you can't help but wonder if Joel approves of your decision. You took Ellie out of a safe place and dragged her into your mess - again.

Something close to pain must flicker across your eyes, because Joel finally abandons his position in the doorway and strolls into the barn with an exaggerated sense of ease. It looks almost comical, the way he's trying so hard to appear calm and you wonder who he's doing it for - you or Ellie? Perhaps both. Either way, he's not fooling either of you which becomes evident when Ellie just outright comments on his funny pace. "Your foot fall asleep or something?"

Joel shoots her a glare, but Ellie just snorts, and before you know it, you're cracking up too, surprising even yourself. Emotions can be such a strange thing.

"No, I think he's just trying to be very casual so I won't be set off and go crazy, not while you're around," you say with a smile when your own laughter has subsided.

“Ah.” Ellie nods knowingly while she strokes the back of the lamb in her lap. You see her looking at you out of the corner of your eye. “Is this where I find out why I’m currently getting a free-of-charge lesson in lamb-feeding?”

Ellie's casual tone matches yours, and you suddenly find your heart filling with love, out of all the things you could be feeling right now. But you can't help it. Here you are, in the midst of hay and sheep, with the two people that somehow took you in and made Jackson a home without you ever having to ask for it in the first place. You don't know how you can ever repay them - if you can ever repay them for what they've done.

The unexpected surge of love works like a sedative and you feel your limbs growing heavy as the adrenaline slowly ebbs away. You're not calm by any means, but it finally doesn't feel like there's electricity coursing through your entire body anymore. "Because, kiddo." You sink to the hay-covered floor besides Ellie with a deep sigh and run a tired hand over your face. "Jeff and your father figure here unknowingly brought a man into town this morning that's responsible for my worst nightmare."

Joel looks like he's in pain at your words and you’re quick to point a finger at him. "You. Uh-uh. None of that. You didn't know," you say, hoping to nip whatever guilt-ridden bud is trying to take root in his head.

You beckon Joel over with a flick of your head. “C’mon.” He hesitates at first, but then walks over and kneels in the hay opposite of you and Ellie. You hand him one of your prepped bottles, then motion for him to grab hold of one of the lambs beside him. They’re all baa-ing and bleh-ing around the three of you, scrambling over themselves to get to the priced bottles. A flicker of a smile dances across Joel’s mouth.

You’ve been here for more than an hour, but you took your time, purposefully slowing down your movements in the hopes of also slowing down your heart. As a result, the lambs, used to a quick feeding, are slowly going insane.

You show Joel how to hold the lamb he’s picked, how to hold the bottle at the correct angle so the little one doesn’t swallow too much air at the same time. Ellie proudly shows off what she’s learned in her time with you and for a little while, it’s just the three of you feeding lambs, like a little wholesome family moment.

Eventually though, you have to ask.

You've avoided thinking about him as much as you could, trying to keep it together, but now you need to know.

"So. D'you kill him?"

Joel doesn’t answer right away. You see Ellie looking at him expectantly, like she has no doubt Joel could’ve killed a man just an hour ago. The thought doesn’t seem to scare her in the least.

He finally shakes his head with a look of distaste on his face. "No. Maria wouldn't let me."

Ellie snorts in response. "What'd you expect?" An unexpected grin flickers across your lips. You nod in agreement with her. "Yeah. Figured as much."

Something tightens in your chest. He's still out there. Still alive. Still breathing.

And so is your daughter. At least according to him.

“Did he say? Where…” You have to collect yourself, take a deep breath to get the words out. Prepare yourself for a no, you tell yourself. Don’t get your hopes up. But you know it’s too late for that. “Did he say where she is?”

The bottle in your hand vibrates slightly from how you’re shaking. You take deep, calculated breaths to steady yourself. Keep calm. You’ve got this. You feel the urge to scream as loud as you can.

“He did.”

The bottle in your hand squeaks as you press down on it too harsh. Milk shoots out of the top and soils the hay underneath and you’re glad you didn’t have a little one attached to the tip of it. You can feel Joel’s eyes boring into you, seizing you up, gauging your reaction. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Your vision goes blurry.

“So she’s… alive?” There’s a deep humming sound in your ear. You’re straining to hear Joel over it.

“That’s what he said.”

You slump forward, curl in on yourself. The bottle falls from your hand, spilling milk on the floor, but you don’t care. You can’t breathe, can’t hear anything over the intense buzzing in your ears. Your hands are shaking so hard you have to press them to your stomach to stop them from shaking.

She’s alive. She’s alive. My babygirl is alive.

The bottle gets picked up and is set down out of your sight. A hand appears on the back of your shoulder, stroking in soft circles, then a smaller hand appears on your lower back, mimicking the same gesture.

You try to breathe, to force air into your lungs. Alive, alive, alive. The word pounds in your head like the gong of a church’s bell, deep and strong. The rubbing on your back continues, offering a soothing counter rhythm to your erratic breathing. Slowly, the buzzing in your ears subsides. A few faint baa-s and bleeh-s reach you. The smell of hay seeps into your nose, grounding you to the floor. The rubbing on your back never seizes.

Joel’s on your left, Ellie on your right. He keeps his hand on your shoulder when you finally straighten yourself again. Ellie’s hand slips to your thigh, resting there assuringly. You would cry about the silent love you’re receiving if your brain wasn’t so occupied in the moment.

You take a deep breath, then look at Joel. His brown eyes are fixed on you, brows furrowed in concern.

“Where?,” you ask.

“He couldn’t say for sure,” Joel starts and you huff and roll your eyes. “Of course he couldn’t, cause it’s not true-“

“He couldn’t say for sure,” Joel loudly talks over you, his hand squeezing your shoulder, “but he gave enough pointers ‘bout where we could find her.”

You gnaw on the inside of your lip. You want to believe him so badly, but you don’t know how to survive if it turns out to be a lie.

“Do you believe him?”

Joel’s expression hardens. “I made it very clear he wouldn’t survive it if he lied.“

“I’m coming with!”

“Like hell you are. You’re stayin’ here.”

“Joel-“

“I said no, Ellie!” He doesn’t like raising his voice at her, not anymore. Joel and Ellie rarely fight, and when they do, he hates every second of it.

“Are you fucking kidding me!”

That girl’s got a mouth on her like a sailor, he thinks to himself. Joel pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows this argument is far from over, no matter how much he wishes she’d just listen to him and be done with it.

“Ellie, we ain’t got a clue 'bout what we’re walkin’ into. Hell, we got less of a clue than when I was takin’ you to the damn Fireflies,” he tries to reason with her. Can’t you see I’m trying to keep you safe?

“And that’s supposed to convince me to stay back? Just sit here and wait while you guys ride off into whatever danger? You can’t be serious.” Ellie’s got her arms crossed in that pissed-off stance she perfected over the years. It sometimes reminds Joel of the way Sarah would cross her arms at him. Always makes his heart ache, too.

“Babygirl, listen here, I just wanna-“ His warm approach is cut off when Ellie throws her hands in the air.

“Oh, don’t give me that. I know you wanna keep me safe. Don’t even start with that speech. I am not staying here. And asking me is downright cruel. I told you, I’d follow you wherever you wanna go. You’re my family. I’m not staying back.”

Joel doesn’t reply right away, just keeps firing clothes into his bag. He hates that she has a point.

“I’m coming with,” Ellie repeats.

Stubborn ass kid. Joel fires a pair of boxers into his backpack like they personally did him wrong and flicks his tongue. He knows asking her to stay behind while he rides out into danger is cruel, but what is he supposed to do? Chain her to the house?

“You know I’ll follow you either way. So just save all of us the trouble and take me with now.”

“You just know how to push my damn buttons, don’t cha,” Joel hisses.

“Course I do. All ninety-five of them. Now what’s it gonna be?” Ellie grins like she knows she has won. Of course she does.

“Alright, you listen to me.” Joel turns around with a sigh of defeat, a sour expression on his face. Damn that girl and her antics.

“Same rules as before. You listen to me, do as I say. No back talking, you hear me? I tell you to run, you run-“

“Yeah yeah.” She interrupts him with a smug grin. “I know. What you say goes. I know the drill.”

Joel flicks his tongue once more in annoyance. He sends her off to pack her things, then calls her back at the last second.

“One more thing.” Ellie lingers in his doorway, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

“You run it by her. This is her mission. She wants you to come, you can come. It’s up to her.”

Joel's tossing and turning in his bed. He can't find a single comfortable position, and even if he could, sleep would likely evade him anyway.

His brain is working overtime, running a hundred miles an hour. He tries to quiet his mind, to catch a couple of hours of sleep before the three of you ride out in the morning. But it's fruitless. The second he manages to put a cap on one thought, the next pops up and demands his attention, like an annoying game of whac-a-mole.

Joel grunts in frustration and sits up, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He knows sleep isn't on his side tonight.

Joel swings his legs over the side of his bed. He can't keep laying down.

He checks on Ellie first, slowly creaking her door open to catch a glimpse of her sprawled out between her sheets. It's a habit he picked up when they moved to Jackson, an echo of how he used to check on Sarah. He couldn't trust the safety at first, had to make sure that Ellie was still in her room, unharmed. Every nightmare of the Fireflies brought him to her door, night after night, sometimes more than once. Now it's just a force of habit, something he does when he can't sleep. The sight of her relaxed body has a soothing effect on him.

Downstairs, he pours himself a glass of whiskey, a luxury he doesn't grant himself often. Tonight, though, he needs one. If only just to silence his thoughts.

Joel's worried. About you, about Ellie, about riding out into a situation based on information he has no way of knowing are reliable. He fears what they might find. What you'll do if she's alive. What you'll do if she's not. How you'll react if you won't find her.

Will you leave? Leave Jackson to go look for your daughter that you were certain was dead, but has now been revealed to still be alive?

He knows he would. If it was Sarah, if there was somehow a way that she was still alive - he'd go out of his way to find her, move mountains if necessary. Not a soul could stop him if there was a chance he could hold his babygirl in his arms again. Not you, not even Ellie.

He knows this, and yet he can't stop himself from thinking that he doesn't want you to leave. It's selfish, he knows that, doesn't need to be told how incredibly selfish of a man he is to want you to stay when there's a chance that your daughter is still out there. But he can't help it. You've brought something back into his life that he never thought he'd feel again, and it's awful and selfish of him, but he doesn't want to give it up. It's too good, too sweet. He's been devoid of that kind of love for so long that he's not sure he's able to let it go, now that he's found it.

But he also knows all of this thinking is futile. Nothing is set in stone yet. For all he knows, if all goes well, you could be reunited with your daughter in a week, maybe less, depending on how soon they find the settlement.

Then again, when have things ever gone 'well' in this shit-show of a world?

Joel downs his glass of whiskey and wanders back to his bed through the dark of the house.

Only time will tell what the future holds. He only hopes you'll be in his.

Maria and Tommy had come over to Joel's to inform you of the interrogation. Ever the proactive man that he was, Joel had all but insisted for you to come home with him and Ellie. You didn't object in the least - you didn't trust yourself to be alone either. Not yet.

Ellie was lurking in the kitchen doorway, clearly unsure of whether she was welcome or not. You left the decision up to Joel, and he reluctantly agreed. "Ain't gon' be pretty, just so you know." Ellie took a seat next to you, silently squeezing your hand. Your heart ached with the love you felt for her.

"We've spoken to William at length," Maria opened. You recognized her tone as neutral. She was all business. No wonder she is a council member, you thought. "I understand that time is a valuable factor here, but we have to get your side of things first before you ride out."

You nodded. It felt like you were sitting on a pile of ants, the way you were squirming in your chair. What did he say? Where is she?

"In the name of fairness, we'd like for you to retell your experience before we share what he has said with you." Maria kept her eyes trained on you, her face a blank mask of neutrality. Tommy, however, did not quite have the same pokerface. He was leaned back in his chair the way Joel often was too, the resemblance between the two siblings showing in his stance. His arms were crossed over his chest and his lips were in a tight line, eyes trained on the table.

You nodded again. It made sense, it did. But to tell it all again, to relive it all over again... Do it for her.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. Then you began to recount the worst day of your life.

It's raining. Not just raining, but pissing down, endless buckets of water being poured out over the QZ. Just like the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. Rain, rain, and then some more rain, until half the QZ is practically swimming, brewing in a stew of piss, rubble and murky rain water that stands a couple inches tall in the streets, despite the day-workers doing their best to unclog all the drains. The pay has gone up too. You get one whole extra ration card per hour if you're willing to sift through the murky and stinking water while getting drenched from head to toe. You scoff when Hailey tells you. "Ain't that the finest deal I've ever heard of." Hailey giggles, and you ruffle through her hair affectionately.

Despite your sarcasm, you consider whether you should take up some street-work shifts. Lord knows you could use the extra rations, even if it's just six per day. You and Hailey try to live as frugal as you can, you make sure of that. Resources are limited. You know it, she knows it, everyone and their uncle knows it. Still, you try to make as much of it as you can, trading and haggling where you can to get a little something extra out of it for your little girl. Anything that you can to brighten her day, you do it. The smile on her face always pays for whatever you had to go through to get here.

Tonight is special. It's Hailey's fifteenth birthday. You've saved up for this day for weeks, traded one of your finer clothes and some ration cards for the little cupcake that you're now placing on the cracked plate in front of you. It cost about as much as three normal food rations, but you don't care. You can go hungry for a night or two if that means you get to make her birthday special.

Carefully, so as not to mess with the delicate frosting, you push a single candle into the sugary goodness. That one you didn't get through cards, nor through a trade of goods. Nope. Something as simple as this little birthday candle cost you a blowjob, of all things. Not your favorite by any means, but still bearable. At least Barry keeps himself washed, unlike some of the other FEDRA soldiers.

Hailey's eyes gleam as you bring in the lit cupcake, softly singing 'Happy Birthday'. Her smile is about as wide as her face will allow her to stretch, and she blows the candle out carefully so none of the wax drops onto the frosting.

"How'd you get this?" She looks at you in wonder, like you can do anything. Your heart swells with love and pride. "Pulled some strings," you reply with a wink and gently tug on one of her hair strands. She giggles like she's ten years younger, the sound warming your chest and erasing any memory of when you were on your knees, working hard for the birthday girl's candle. Worth it, you think. Always worth it.

The knock on the door comes late in the evening. You're laid up in bed, your daughter nestled against you as you read to her from the book you've borrowed. The words die out on your tongue as your door rattles, a fist pounding against it from the other side.

"FEDRA. Open up."

Hailey's eyes find yours in a panicked, silent question. What's happening? You run a quick hand over her hair and press a kiss to her forehead, easing her worries. "Don't worry," you mumble as the two of you scramble off of the worn out mattress on the ground. "Probably just a routine check-in," you assure her with a smile that carries more certainty than you feel on the inside.

The second you open the door boots stomp into your little safe haven. Decked out in typical FEDRA tactical wear, four men barge in, all carrying a sense of importance around them that they are known and feared for.

The QZ was supposed to be a safe haven, a shelter from the horrors of the infected and raiders. That's what it had been marketed as, a pillar of society in a now broken land. You had soon found out that it was anything but.

"Come on in, boys," you say through a smile that promises a willingness to cooperate that you do not feel. But this isn't a time to revolt. Not when Hailey is here.

One of the men grabs the door out of your hand and shuts it with force. So much for this being a quick thing, you think and your stomach thinks.

There are four armed men in your tiny apartment, along with yourself and your daughter. You will your heart to beat steadily as you cross the room to stand by her. "What can we do for you?"

"Heard a little fun fact today," one of the larger men drawls. You know him - of him, really - he's one of the leading men in charge. You don't have a clue what he's doing here, but whatever the reason, it can't be good. He takes a look around the room like he's seizing up your possessions, to see if there's anything of value around. You'd give them the shirt on your back if that meant they'd leave again peacefully.

"Yeah?" You force your voice to be calm, force the smile to remain on your face. "What's that?"

He saunters over and comes to a stop in front of Hailey. Your hand reaches for hers involuntarily. His eyes roam over her, slowly, drinking her in from top to bottom. You feel bile climbing up your throat.

The man clicks his tongue and then puts a finger under Hailey's chin, turning her face up to him. You feel her shivering beside you, squeezing your hand in a panic. Calm, you tell her in your mind. Stay calm. You yourself are anything but. You want to gauge his eyes out with the way they're roaming over your daughters face, but you keep yourself composed. Keep her safe. Keep Hailey safe. That's your only goal.

"Little birdie told me it's this pretty one's birthday today," the man drawls. Your eyes flicker over to the rest of his men and you find Barry among them, an apologetic look on his face. 'Sorry' he mouths at you and your blood runs cold in your veins. Next time you've got his dick in your mouth, you'll bite off a good chunk.

"Fifteen years old! Practically a young woman now," he coos and runs a finger over Hailey's cheek. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reaching out and smacking his hand away.

"Gotta start payin' her dues now, doesn't she."

...no. No.

"My daughter does afternoon shifts after school, just as is law," you're quick to say. "You can check, too. We've got all the paperwork." You're already scrambling to find the papers in the drawer behind you when you hear an amused chuckle.

"I'm sure everything's up to code here," the man smiles. "Ain't what we're here for, though. Pretty thing like this? She gotta pay extra. Special pretty tax we got. Ain't that right, boys?"

The men all mumble something in agreement, and anger boils in your stomach. You hate all of them, cowards that they are.

"And when I heard that we got a pretty bird turning fifteen... Well. Just had to come see it for myself. Ya sure didn't lie, Barry. She's a sight to behold." He tuts as he twirls Hailey's face from side to side, examining her like one would a piece of furniture at an auction. You look at Barry, but he avoids your gaze. You're dead, you think. You're fucking dead.

"About time you get broken in, don't you think? Hm?" You feel Hailey shaking with fear as the man lowers his face to hers. Your hand is gripping hers so hard your knuckles turn white.

"Take me."

His eyes slowly wander from Hailey's face to yours. "Take me," you repeat, the determination edged into your face. "Do with me whatever you want, but leave her out of it." Your voice has authority, but you can't deny the pleading edge in your tone. Please. Not her.

The man's lips purse like he's considering it for a moment, then claps his hands together. "Ha! Nice offer, hun, but that's just not gonna work. Now you see, young William over here-" He pulls forth the youngest of the men who stumbles forward, a shy expression on his face. He can't be much older than Hailey. "-young William here is overdue for his initiation. And nice as you may be, but you're just a bit old for the young boy here, ain't cha." The ugliest wink you ever did see is thrown your way and you feel like you might scream.

"Alright, then." The man claps his hands and all three of you flinch at the sound; you, Hailey and young William. "Let's get to it. William, show us what you got."

For a moment, time stands still as the words echo in your brain. Show us what you got. Then you're shoving Hailey behind yourself. "No. No. Take me. Not her. Take me. I'll do anything."

The man in charge flicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I heard you the first time. Pretty sure you heard me too. Ain't gonna do it. Now sit back and enjoy the show, unless you want me to put a bullet between your eyes."

The gun is pointed at you before you know it and Hailey screams behind you. "No!" She's fighting to get out from behind you, but you keep her locked in place. With a hard swallow, you pry your eyes away from the barrel of the gun and force yourself to look at the man who's pointing it at you.

"Please." Your voice wavers, thick with emotion. "Please. Don't do this. Please." You feel tears brimming in your eyes as you beg for your daughter to be spared. Not her. Not her.

You hear the cracking sound first before you feel the pain explode across your scalp. Your vision blurs for a moment and you slump forward, brought down by the force of the blow. A muffled groan presses out from between your lips as you fall to your hands and knees. There's a high pitched scream behind you, and then you're yanked forward, across the floor and onto your mattress.

The world spins as you try to straighten up. Your head feels warm and sticky where the pain is pulsating, and you see red smeared across your hand as you bring it from the top of your head to your eyes.

The screeches in front of you grow louder, calling your attention away from the blood on your hands. You narrow your eyes to see what's happening, and when your view finally sharpens again, you feel your entire body growing cold in seconds.

Hailey is being forced to bend over by Barry and the other man that you don't really know but you're sure you've seen before, her pants being pulled down towards her ankles. She's screaming, fighting, and each of her words pierce through your heart like an icy dagger. "No," you groan and crawl forward on your bed to get to her, only to be kicked back by a boot to the shoulder. You fly backwards and slam into the wall behind you, making you see stars as your head feels like it's being split open anew.

"No! No! Please! No!" Hailey's screams cut through your dazed state. You fumble to get onto your knees again, crawling forwards in what seems like slow motion. The world is still spinning and your arms threaten to give out, but you force yourself forward until you're suddenly yanked forward by your head.

"You're just dying for a front row seat, ain't ya," a voice hisses in your ear like an angry snake. You wince at the sound and try to rid yourself of the hold, but the large hands that hold your head hostage clamp down on you harsher, keeping you in place where you can only watch but not reach.

"That's right, open eyes, baby," you hear in your ear and you gag, both from the pain in your head and the sight you're being forced to watch.

With all the things you've seen, with all the things you've been through, everything shrinks in comparison to what you're seeing now. You feel like your heart is being torn apart, shredded into a million tiny pieces and you can only howl out in pain until a hand clamps down over your mouth. "Shut your damn mouth, whore."

You sob into the gloved hand as your daughters innocence is ripped from her on her fifteenth birthday. You watch and cry and wish it was you instead of her while you feel yourself dying on the inside.

Silence hung heavy in Joel's kitchen when you finished. Joel looked like he wanted to break something, whereas Ellie sat on the other side of you with a somber expression on her face. Tommy let out a breath and ran a hand over his mouth.

"Maria," he said and leaned forward til he leaned on his knees. His wife nodded, seemingly straining to keep her mask of neutrality intact. "Yeah," she replied lowly, then cleared her throat.

"N' you're telling me he's entitled to what. A fair treatment?" Joel spat the words out like they're too bitter to keep in his mouth. You could feel his eyes on you, running over your head like he was looking for the scar he now knew is hidden beneath your hair.

"He does." Maria inhaled deeply opposite you and brought order to the stack of papers she brought with her. "But fair doesn't mean unjust." Then her hand reached across the table and squeezed yours. "In light of your... experience, I would suggest to the council that we work with your testimony as I've written it down, so you don't gotta repeat yourself over and over. Would that be in your interest?"

You felt some of the tightness in your chest slowly releasing.

Maria nodded as you voiced your agreement. "Good. Please read this over to make sure I got the details right. It's important."

When Tommy and Maria were gone, Joel and Ellie sat with you as you read through your own testimony. You had to set the pages down a couple of times, and each time, they were there with hands on your back, on your thigh, intertwined with your own. They silently helped you relive your worst nightmare for the second time that night, and you didn't know how to give voice to your gratitude.

Joel protested when you got up some time after dinner and announced you'd be going home for the night. There was something wild in his eyes, worry mixed with something you couldn't quite place, and it warmed your heart to see him so worried for you. You had to assure him thrice with a hand on his cheek that you would be okay, that you would come and find him if it got too dark, and that you would be back first thing next morning.

"I'll break down your damn door if you ain't here at 6am sharp," he growled and you had no doubt that he meant it. "I know." You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Good night, Joel. I'll see you tomorrow. Night, Ellie." She waved you goodbye, and Joel brought you to his backdoor, his hand on the small of your back as he walked you there.

"You sure you'll be good by yourself," he asked again when you turned to leave. The smallest of smiles appeared on your lips.

"Yeah. I just... need some time to digest everything."

He looked at you for a moment before finally nodding. "Alright. G'night, sweetheart."

You knew he kept watching you as you walked through his backyard and then up the street, and you couldn't blame him. But you had meant what you said. You needed to be alone.

You needed the time to think about the fact that for the first time in two years, there was a chance your daughter was still alive.

"I'm coming for you, baby," you whispered to yourself as you slowly walked yourself home.

Tomorrow, you would ride out to find her. Tomorrow, you'd go and look for your babygirl.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

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[madockisser]

hi! i love ur analysis and i wanted to know ur thoughts about valerian being attracted to jude, despite the fact he calls her plain and dull. wouldn’t that technically be a lie? and how him and cardan both desired her and did a lot of the same things to her. i know he was more violent but do you think if jude hadn’t killed him they would have had potential?(im not condoning his actions or saying him and jude would be good together btw, im just genuinely curious😭)

Valerian x Jude? Why did valerian want Jude?/Valerian short analysis!

hii! Thank you so much for the ask! This ended up being really long but i wanted to answer it well bc valerian is such a strange character it’s easy to not understand his motivations and whatnot!

before i start i want to say that holly back herself in an interview thingy said that valerian is attracted to Jude the same way that misogynistic men are attracted to women.

so firstly, valerian is such a loser but anyway we must recall that he is VERY unseelie. he doesn’t care for the livelihood of humans or even the faeries around him. Even his “friends” whom he relishes in hurting. he would do the same to Jude in a relationship and he HAS.

why his attraction to Jude? he cannot lie obv but he says that she is plain looking and dull compared to the fae since that’s what he’s used to, but he’s still attracted to her.

he leers at taryns curves, so he’s sexually attracted to Jude and Taryn. He lusts for them, specifically Jude, but why?

i assume that he finds their human bodies attractive since they’re so different from faerie bodies. yk, breasts and wide hips and all.

edit: obv also because Jude is a total smokeshow 🫦👅 also her amber eyes 😍

Since he hates humans and views them as a different species and says that everything about them is disgusting and a lie, him finding himself attracted to her probably totally pissed him off.

but it’s Jude’s defensive personality that makes him REALLY want her.

Note: Taryn is pretty submissive and kneels over for valerian, cardan, nicasia, and Locke.

Valerian is a part of the gentry, he’s a spoiled brat. He gets what he wants and he does what he wants. He goes to the mortal world and controls/hurts/probably kills them and in elfhame he hurts people, and through cardans power as prince can he easily get away with it.

now Jude, does NOT let this slide. She does not allow him to get to her, even through the abuse she endured from him, she remains defiant and she strikes back at him.

note: Taryn craves their favor and wants to be one of them, while Jude wants to beat them. Taryn allows them to do with her as they please and thinks her and jude should just shut up and endure their abuse.

Let’s remember when valerian stole Jude’s pen, and madoc replaced it w a ruby studded one from his personal desk. Valerian raged and hit Jude.

Valerian seems to not be used to not only being defied, but being defied by a “species” that is disgusting and unworthy of life in his eyes.

obviously, Jude is also a part of the gentry, nonetheless the daughter of a member of the kings living council, madoc has a VERY high status in elfhame. he literally LIVES on the isles of the elfhame. He has a home there.

random lore add on: liriope (lockes mother) had a home on the isles and it is stated that she was one of the first of eldreds consorts, so i assume that madoc was one of the first of eldreds high ranks as well.

valerian on the other hand most likely isn’t from the high court itself but some neighboring court, just there to visit for school. obviously he’s noble because he attends palace school with the other favored children. but i don’t think his rank is higher madocs. Like at all

Anyway what I’m trying to say is that technically, Jude, as the generals daughter, has a higher rank than him.

And jude isn’t even a bastard. She’s a stolen child that valerian and others see as unworthy of being there.

now jude having such a powerful father is what makes the children of the gentry hesitate when wanting to inflict pain or humiliation on her. Only madocs power is keeping them from hurting her PUBLICLY.

now how does this play into why valerian is attracted to her?

because with humans, valerian gets what he wants. he glamours them and hurts them and makes them eat leaves and garbage.

but he cannot do this with Jude, which is why i think this makes him want her more. Ever heard of the saying “we all want what we cannot have?” valerian CANNOT have Jude. not just because she would never, but for every other reason(i get into this a few paragraphs down)

now pair this with the fact that CARDAN wants Jude, and i always thought that valerian noticed this, so valerian cannot have her even more so now that cardan wants her.

one of my fav moots lmk that Jude ONLY paid any attention to cardan. Cardan pissed her off the most. when Jude’s being abused by that whole group, she singles out cardan, and pretty much ignores valerian.

i imagine that valerian was so upset that she did not let him get to her, that he wanted more and more to attempt to have her. hence the violent attraction.

From his eyes, Locke and cardan want her, Locke has her, and cardan is a prince, and who doesn’t want to take from a prince? Especially a guy that LOVES hurting those around him, or anyone at all.

it’s in fae nature to compete for lovers so honestly- him knowing that Locke had her probably infuriated him, and knowing that cardan wanted her too probably made him want her more.

but what’s important to remember is that valerian had no love/didnt care for Jude. at all. unlike cardan, who lied to himself about caring for her, val did not care for her, she was just a thing to take and abuse and hurt.

because he could not break her emotionally and mentally, he wanted to even more.

now picture this: the first time he gets her alone and tries killing her (in the tower) he takes off her Rowan berries and glamours her. And he CANT. Jude cannot be glamoured. then she STABS him. i just KNOW he was absolutely crashing out.

to him, Jude becomes more and more unattainable, and this INFURIATES him. All he wants is to hurt her, that’s what he does, but he simply cannot get to her.

when he pushes her down, she gets back up again. every single time. (queen behavior)

he wanted her bc he’s a selfish, abusive, controlling asshat. she was a thing to take from cardan and Locke. he wanted to hurt her because he hated that he wanted her and couldn’t have her. he hated that he could not REALLY hurt her. even as he ACTIVELY hurt her, she would NOT let up.

i love Jude for this lol and the fact she doesn’t realize just how much she’s pissing him off is so funny. she’s too busy paying attention and hating CARDAN. (I would too babe)

anyway- bro resorted to outright hunting her down. i imagine he was so torn up that he couldn’t glamour her, he couldn’t use the ONE POWER that he had over her- and instead she STABBED HIM- that he got absolutely shitfaced and managed to climb up her window to off her.

add on(I’m sorry this is so messy): valerian says time and time again how better he is than her, how humans are worthless and useless and whatnot, but Jude just continues to prove that no matter what he says, she is not some weak human that he wants/expects her to be.

anyway, would him and Jude ever have worked? i understand WHY people ask this question, but it overall sorta upsets me anyway. (not hate toward anon at all i mean i hate seeing people ship them)

valerian is not some dark romance main lead. he DID NOT care for Jude’s well being. he wanted her dead and actively tried killing her many times.

Jude’s standards aren’t low enough to accept that sort of relationship, and Jude had nothing to gain from it seeing as she didn’t want to earn her place through marriage.

Does JUDE DUARTE, seem like the type to let such a pos in her life at all? no.

valerian was unintelligent, he was ignorant and simple minded about humans, he abused humans, he abused and tried killing Jude, hes unseelie and relishes pain and suffering above all. him and Jude would never have worked, and they never could’ve happened in the first place even if he lived.

he doesn’t even see her as his equal. she’s an entirely different species, she’s an animal to him.

and his death. He died cursing her. he died because of his hatred for her, and then he cursed her. not only did he try killing her many times, but he also tried to ruin her life completely.

meanwhile, as he was dying, Jude tried saving him, even after all those murder attempts. Jude is a good person, and he was not.

i feel like it’s an insult to even compare valerian and cardan, they’re literally complete opposites. and it’s awful to want him and Jude to work, because Jude isn’t submissive, she’s a survivor and she fights back. she never would’ve given him the light of fucking day lmao.

he didn’t deserve her, and I’m so glad he died at her hand. after he probably killed tons of humans for fun, he deserved it all. After he literally cursed her, and traumatized her, he deserved it.

Jude and cardan work so well because cardan had what valerian doesn’t. Empathy, and the capacity to actually love and understand. let’s all remember that cardan:

1. He cares for and protects Jude

2. He sees humans as equal to him/ he doesn’t see Jude as less than him, if anything he sees her as better than him throughout the whole series (which pisses him off since at first everyone around him tries making him think that humans are stupid and unworthy, until he grows away from their abuse and hate and loves her cunning and everything about her)

3. Cardan comes to understand and pity humans despite being groomed into thinking they’re unworthy and disgusting and despite the fact that he’s beaten by humans. he goes on to risking his own ass by freeing balekins human slaves.

4.he is considerate, he sends her a dress even when she hates him so the humiliation from Locke and taryns betrayal is dulled.

5.his motivations where fueled by his desire, the same as valerian, except cardan never wanted her dead

6. There’s more but I’m lazy and i think you get the point lol. Valerian sucks

anyway sorry for ranting, I’ve seen too many valerian jude shippers, they literally make no sense whatsoever, jude and valerian have absolutely nothing in common, i feel like ppl only ship them bc they like dark romance? but that’s lame, and it doesn’t belong in ya!

I’m not one to hate on peoples ships like at all, but ppl that ship them must either HATE Jude, or completely disregard her entire character. she would NEVER and she doesn’t deserve to be shipped w that inbred!

anyway thank you anon for the ask! I’m sorry for how much of a hot mess this is, i kept going back and adding things lol, but feel so free to add on 🫶🫶🫶

[hello-sweetheart]

Fame and Fortune

Do you dream of glory? Crowds of thousands all adoring beneath you. The roaring cheers echoing in the arena. Countless of small white lights held up like beacons creating a sea of waving stars all for you. Breathless exhilaration has your chest heaving, skin glistening and damn. To feel like a god: never ending, eternal.

What would you be willing to do to get it?

What are you willing to sacrifice for fame?

Who are you prepared to lose?

Could the love of millions be worth the love of one?

——

[Backstage: Corroded Coffin Global Tour-Los Angeles, Ca]

Eddie is pacing, more than just pre-show nerves numb his hands. His cigarette burns quickly, ash falling on the carpeted floor, but no amount of nicotine filled lungs will fix this. Gareth, his drummer and long time friend, is watching him pace, eyes pleading.

“Is it worth it, Eddie?

We all got what we wanted; why are we miserable? You can’t lie to me, we all feel it. I see it in everyone, even you! You haven’t been the same since—“ He receives a withering glare from the frontman and sighs, speaking softer.

“I miss mom and my little sister. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them… I’m no longer drawn in her crayon family portraits, did you know that? Does Anne even remember me, anymore?

How can you keep going like this and expect us to do the same? I’m grateful—I really am—for you. You got us where we are now, a fantasy that we never even dreamed would become reality. It was amazing, I’m glad I got to experience it all with you, but I’m tired. I’m so tired guys.

I just want to go home.”

The long drag he takes burns his throat,

“Look, we’re all tired, I get it. Really, I do, this tour has been… particularly grueling I’ll admit, but come on. This is our last show, the big finale! We’ll give them all we got and then we’ll be able to take a break to freshen up before doing what we do best: creating kick ass music.

Like always. You’ll feel better after this, we always do after the last show—“

Gareth cuts him off, his patience clearly stretched thin.

“No, Eddie, listen to me! It’s different this time. I’m happy with the money we’ve made, we all have enough to live comfortably and I’ve been thinking that, you know, it’s time to settle down. I can’t do that if I’m always working. This, the band, it doesn’t… it doesn’t make me happy anymore.”

Jeff stands and his imposing figure makes Eddie pause from wearing a path into the floor.

“He’s not the only one, man. Im sorry, but its killing me. We don’t expect you to give it up either, you can keep the band name, find new members, keep signing… But for us? We can’t keep going, man. This is the end of the line.”

‘Not him too. Fuck. Fuck!’

“No! What am I—I’ve given up too much for this, you can’t just, fucking, bail on me!” This band, playing with his friends, it’s become his entire world. He’s lost too much to get here.

“Woah, woah, hey! No one fucking told you to and you know it. We’ve always had your back no matter what, but anything you chose to do is on you. Not us. The least you could do is extend us the same fucking curtesy and respect the fact that we’re fucking done with this bullshit.”

His gaze is venom as he looks at band, Grant and ‘Freak’ silent but agreeing with the rest. They refuse to meet his gaze.

“Fine. Do whatever you want.” He turns and leaves. They’ll be starting in 15 minutes.

Fucking cowards. Ungrateful bastards.

A memory plays in his head. Brief and intrusive. The voice of someone long gone from his life rings in his mind.

“I’ve missed you, Ed. Are you done at the studio, yet? When are you coming home?”

“Steve, this is important. You know this. I’ll be pulling a few more all nighters here—this album has to be perfect, baby.”

A crackling sigh is barely audible through the phone.

“I know, I know. I’m just being selfish. I’m sorry. Miss waking up to you next to me.”

“Miss you too, baby. You’re my world you know. Love you more than anything.”

“More than music?” It’s a timid question.

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he’s the only one to laugh into the receiver.

“Right… night, Eddie.”

“Wait, Stev—“ fuck. It was only joke. Whatever, he’ll apologize tomorrow.

Right now, he has music history in the making.

[ivys-garden]

Life Series Recap: session 6.

Hey mcytblr. How are you keeping?

Well I've had Insomnia and accidentally ate half a loath of stale bread so let's distract ourselves from it all with some nice life series stuff, eh?

Todays wild card was… OK so like, this is probably the weirdest one (and also probably my least favourite but that's a me issue)

So like… every animal dies. Then new ones spawn. Then they become something random… wat

Now despite what the random signs that keep suspiciously appearing around grian say, thus isn't actually TOO dangerous. But hey that just leaves more room for these Theatre kids to drama it up in this messy soap opera of a series

So, without further dillydallying, let's look at these fools

The Final Gals (Scott, Cleo, Pearl, Impulse, Bigb, Etho)

Billy is dead. So is Grian, probably. they've got like 20 reasons to kill that lil scamp now.

Today is a full on trap day it seems! Scott is once again enabling so everyone gets their murder hats on. Impulse traps the base with pitfalls, obviously taking inspiration from Mumbo.

Bigb also gets his traps on, killing skizz in revenge and killing lizzie for no reason. Ps are we ignoring that Jimmy almost called him a son of a bitch orrrrrrrr

Oh yes, Bigb and Etho are now officially full members, and now the Bigb is a hostile mob, we can trust him again!

I mean, not too weird, they've got a Cleo. A very big brained and Dastardly Cleo. They plan to trap the wheat field with bombs. Heck they convinced Tango and martyn it already was! They also managed to acquire a cheeky Villager, so bows of death may be making a comeback.

Speaking of bigb actually, he's like even more trust worthy. It's almost scary. He refuses to betray Pearl and instantly tattles on Scar AND when lizzie coms a knocking over I.pukse trying to kill her and Impulse blames him, he fully accepts guilt no questions asked! What was in his water today, are we sure this is the same guy?

Scott does some miscellaneous chores. He fully turned the tower into a cake, which yada yada two nickels. He also goes never raiding with Cleo and makes his once per session trip to go complement Jimmy in a totally jot fruity way, Promise. Ignore how it's only his parrot Scott tried to save from that Blaze that means nothing.

Now, Pearl. She is given the task by gem

To kill gem. So she and her new murder bestie Impulse get on they're cammel and get down to mischief. Starting with creepers!

They failed miserably with creepers. Gem is a very fast rat

They go for a raid!

The wild card kills it. Dam.

They go for a spawn egg trap + a cammel nap!

The session ends before they can pull it off God dam it.

Pearl also thinks complimenting gem will get her to like her again so take that as you will. I say, knowing full well how you fuckers will take it. I see you, and so does G O D.

Oh, Pearl also acquires a very special tool that I'll mention in Etho's bit, but needless to say he gives it to Impulse and provided he does bimbo his key binds… again, he could come back from the dead…

The Family (Gem, Joel, Etho)

Joel found a bloody trial chamber. what the devils. He looted that bitch so good.

Anyway

All the cows are dead.

Also, a new watchtower? Pog? No. Its hideous. Much like gems barn, which has become a real ship of Theseus.

Speaking of Gem, she invents new and exciting ways to hate Pearl! This week: forgetting that gem ripped her eye out!

Yeah no fair how did she forget that.

Anyway, as gem is fully insane she decides the only way Pearl can make it up to her is to (checks notes) Murder her. Yep. Now, if my friend murdered me I'd probably take that negatively, but not Gem. She's itching to 1v1 pearl. Shame that Pearl is actually being cautious and thinks that trapping her is more sensible (tho maybe she should 1v1 gem since Pearl sucks at making traps. Just saying)

Speaking of traps, Gem and Etho try to kill ren! For no reason! He's their friend! It doesn't work but like, what the hell guys!?

Gem also chose to give her life to skizz…. More on how that went at 11.

The Bamboozelers (Scar, Jimmy, Lizzie)

Oh the Bamboozelers. Where do we start?

The Bam Bunker of course! Scars off hand pipe dream was fully realised this session as Jimmy and Lizzie spend all session building they're super secret bunker!... Scott manages to bimbo his way in and Scar invites Etho in… and it's not hidden at all… but hey, bunker!

And just in time too, turns out living on an open grassy mountain with plants that limit mobility during a mob spawn wild card is a bad idea. Lizzie almost died to wither had Jimmy not killed her so as to not waste her life.

I mean he did waste her life by trying to kidnap an Iron Golem but, eh.

Now looking at pay offs for last sessions events, we get anticlimax! Jimmy tries to kill gem when she offers her help in murdering people and Lizzie finds out that Ender porters fail if you died after you set them up. Whoops!

Speaking of Lizzie failing, she blows up Martyn and Ethos tower! He was supposed to get Tango as requested by skizz, but he's too smart. Lucky that martyn isn't eh?

No, when Scar wasn't being ironically killed by vex in trial chambers, or trying to make Shulker boxes for Actually no reason, or ruining traps for people, he was…. Being gaslit into thinking evokers still dropped Totems by grian. He did come up with a good idea of egg farming, but unfortunately eggs were turned off it seems, guess no big brain Scar this session.

Also for some reason Scar tries to get people to kill Pearl. Pearl has done nothing to him, but I guess that fits Pearl overall, do nothing and forgive everyone and still people want to kill you.

Oh also shears is dead. :(

Renwood (Martyn, Ren)

Oh ren. He's having a time. He's trying to be polite and friendly and make a “zoo lake” and asks why he and Martyn aren't smooching.

But at every turn this man has his life threatened by his own allies, his animals die (INCLUDING THAT BLOODY HORSE NOOOOOOO) and his homie/probably husband is killing people! What's that about?.... The shot was sick tho.

Hey, He may now have no allies or food but…. At least the lake protected them?

Idk they're probably doomed.

Martyn has some strange happenings this session. He goes skateboarding on a camel for one. He is also back to calling people humpers God damn it.

He also does make up for knocking Skizz off his stupid bad incredibly dangerous bridge by trying to lure people into the danger zone for him, but this ends about as well as every other trap done by anyone. At least he helped Grian get…revenge…

The Tuff Guys (Bdubs, Tango, Etho)

Firstly, Pancakes.

Secondly, etho doesn't know what Mt Saint Hellens is. You mean Yellowstone, Mr. Kakashi sir.

Anyway, on to things that are actually important, Bdubs finished his house!

Oh wait, I said things of importance.

Etho decides to make my life difficult by allying with 3 teams, all of which hate each other. So thanks for that, glad you died in that stupid trial chamber.

Etho ignores whatever stupid goals Leader Tango set out and instead focuses on the important thing of getting a Wolf army kitted out with armour and the less important thing of trying to get a shulker box to solve his inventory problem. That sir, is actually just a skill issue.

Now, Wardens. Where there be Wardens, there be a Tango to adopt them. Yep the Tuff Guys get a warden… for about three seconds until it gets trapped and everyone tridents it to death. This is also when “The Suprise Tool” was acquired by Pearl, a TOTEM OF UNDYING. Yeah Impulse is effectively on green now thanks to that, Thanks Gri! Impy FTW

(Ps homework for y'all is to find out who got that last hit on the Warden)

Now, I seem to remember Tango doing something to skizz… it resulted in grian taking revenge and bombing the hell out of the Tuff Towers and

Oh

Oh No, Skizzle…

The Spanner (Grian)

Let's start with grian. He is MOURNING Mumbo, even though he got bloody atomised last session he still pretends he's here. He names an Iron Golem after him, who later kills Jimmy so hooray revenge! Go Bloop!

He also goes chamber busting and continues to be besties with Scar… hey weren't they trying to kill each other not 2 sessions ago or….

He also fixes the “Spider Nest” tnt launcher so skizz doesn't blow himself up, skizz also names the tower after Mumbo in his honour.

Oh Grian also forgot to activate the wild card for like 5 minutes. Silly Goose. Hey at least it got people nice and paranoid.

Now, Skizz. He starts of great, Bombing Gem. I mean gem let him and he lost the life like 10 seconds later but he did it! He then does the stupidest thing I've seen since Skynet and builds a rickety bridge to drop TNT on tango's head. He was asking for martyn to wind charge him off.

Skizz seems to be really focused on Tango, he did ask Jimmy, Bigb & Lizzie to kill him after all.

But, well… Tango killed him. Did he thi k it would? No. But it did anyway. He tossed a wind charge up at Mumbo Tower and skizz fell. Grian didn't even have to watch to know what happened.

The Tuff Guys tried to make amends, but at that point it was too late. Also etho didn't help by talking to the wrong Grave like a Bimbo.

Grian then has a mental breakdown! And he does what people who have those in this series do and decides allying with Joel is a good idea somehow. He tries to replace the Spanners with the family. To pretend nothing happend.

It isn't working.

What will happen next? Who can say…

Me. Tango is gone next session. Mark my bloody words

More importantly tho, JIMMY HAS HIS BEST PLACEMENT (not counting real life) WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! PHOENIX BLESSING IS REAL

[diminuel]

The Rocks D. Crocodile headcanons and art got me thinking about the hilarious implications this has for the people who kind of "grew up" together. Like: Katakuri is 4ish years older than Croc; it's only known that Marco was already a member of the WBs as a 15 years old and he's only about 1 year younger than Croc; not to forget about Buggy & Shanks who got thrown into the mix by Roger; the possible overlap of Rosinante and Dragon because I can definitely see Garp voluntelling Dragon to look after Sennys boy so he can needle his friend; Mihawks past being free real estate and being only a few years younger than Croc. Like the awkwardness of these people encountering each other and just going, oh shit, that's my former "babysitter"/the weird child I got thrown with/my kind of brother lmaoo. Luffys parentage getting revealed and the people knowing Croc/Dragon just going, who allowed these people to procreate??? And together??????? No escape from them and their offspring. STINKY CHILD!MARCO REALIZING WHO RAISED ACE AND HAVING A CRISIS LMAO. The possibilities, this is so funny to me. Love your AUs and art <3

"Luffys parentage getting revealed and the people knowing Croc/Dragon just going, who allowed these people to procreate??? And together??????? No escape from them and their offspring."

X'D Yeah, that's super funny! Though I think most people don't know both Crocodile and Dragon. But those who do know the kind of explosive combination this is and really wonder how the world deserved this... And Luffy is involved in the destruction and destabilization of islands all over the Grandline X'D Who allowed this? For god's sake!

In Stinky Child AU, I don't think Marco would have known Crocodile well! The idea I have is that Crocodile joined the WBs when he was still very young, before Marco's time. And he also got kicked off the crew again before Marco joined. (Though of course if they picked up Marco very young, he might have been there!) But Marco was definitely around when WB and Crocodile fought and he might have heard just who this kid was from older crew members (even though I don't think WB realized who Crocodile was before he had already dealt some heavy damage). Though it would still be incredibly funny for Marco to have a crisis once he figures out that the person who raised Ace is someone they almost killed years ago (or his fellow cabin boy if they had been on the crew at the same time).

And yes, generally, the potential for chaos is endless! >:3

[meowsticmarvels]

constantly thinking about weird fucked up persona aus but mostly on the brain rn is p3/4 stuff. like for one a swap with the IT and SEES (like location and premise and all that) would be crazy but for reasons that I'll elaborate on in the tags it's not perfect. but what IS crazy to me and had been rotating in my brain is. the concept of SEES having shadows.

for a while I've been thinking of an au where the answer features their shadows. granted I haven't played/watched the answer but the concept is certainly really insane because the characters do have enough issues for it to be crazy. even by that time. there'd be general overarching themes of grief and loss between them all but also individual things (that some of them do mostly get over but still. this would be insane mid-game too) -- junpei's jealousy, akihiko's need to not lose anyone ever again, mitsuru's guilt and feeling like she has to make up for the kirijo group's shortcomings, etc. would be a hell of a time and I'd love to write this concept if I can thinknof things. talk to me abt ur thoughts on p3 characters having p4 esque shadows im thinking

[narugen-moved]

alright buckle up it’s time for me to spread my hoshina/mina agenda

1. mina being unserious as hell with the most serious face when it comes to hoshina (taking a picture of him being upset over losing kaiju #8)

2. “could you be the one to carve the path for me?” she specifically asked him because of his swordsmanship that every elder/senior in his life had dismissed him for citing it was an end of an era. she’s the only one who believed in him after years of being put down by everybody (even his own family)

3. devotion & loyalty & trust - do i even need to say anything they make me go crazy

i can’t add anymore pics so i’ll word dump properly in another post but wow i’m bonkers abt them 😭 something something thank you for choosing me / thank you for being someone i can rely on

[lesbiansanemi]

Was doing so good holding it together today but now that I’m laying down and trying to sleep I’m tearing up and I can feel that I’m about to burst into tears any second now

[magnusmodig]

||. Thinking quietly about Thor and his friends. How they all filled a space in him and outside of him that Thor needed fulfilled... The most obvious being in the group's battle formation, but even outside of that too.

Volstagg with his jolly nature helping Thor keep morale up, being the glue that keeps the warriors together, especially when it comes to making group compromises and hard decisions. Hogun with his straight-laced practicality , the way he'd be able to offer an outside perspective to Asgard's ways — something invaluable to Thor. Fandral for all of his apparent womanizing likely keeping up with the courts of Asgard and so Thor would be in the know in a much more close manner through what Fandral knows, and what he's able to find out in Thor's stead. And he's quite personable, in a manner much more suited to crowds than Thor... so that makes the finding of information that much easier, and quicker to relay. (Thor may be a prince, but he's also got Homeschooler Energy out the wazzoo.) Thinking about Sif and Thor being something of childhood friends... Or as close to childhood friends as someone like Thor can have, when you live in a palace your whole life and are largely confined to its walls with your tutors and your parents and your brother for company keep. But Sif would be the exception, I'd imagine, if indeed she is of noble birth the way I'd suspect it.... and Thor and Sif would have gotten along splendidly, especially once he finds out her desire to become a shield-maiden, and then that leads into learning about the Valkyrie, and of course then Thor would want Sif to be HIS Valkyrie, because of all the people who are mighty and brave and compassionate, and who would then deserve to be his esteemed commander of guard, surely why WOULDN'T it be Lady Sif?

And of course there's Loki, who completes many of Thor's loose ends and falterings in plenty of ways, but that's it's own story and its own post for a different time.

Thor picked his warriors well and he picked them wisely. There's not a single quest or mission they can't overcome because each of their strengths buoy the other's weaknesses. Together, when in sync, they're all six of them a well-oiled machine, and it's really no wonder that they, together, become "Asgard's Finest", and it's really no wonder that they were all to be Thor's council as King. (If only all of them lived...)

[botseeksbot]

food . water . vbros women being written well .

[whyismangososour]

I really don’t understand this mindset that runs in film YouTubers’ people’s heads that the biggest problem with Stranger Things is that the writers refuse to kill off main characters???? my dude it’s not their inability to kill off characters that’s the problem it’s their affinity for introducing way too many characters to the cast in the first place and then not knowing what the fuck to do with them afterwards

[babbyspinch]

my parents really are never going to change. theyre a team and im on my own. in the most literal sense

[dustgeonmeshi]

i respect people who like to see izutsumi as chilchuck's straight up adopted daughter post-canon but personally i like to see it a bit differently. like the fatherdaughterism is THERE but it remains unspoken forever. she does her own things and probably wouldn't confine herself to one spot. im sure she bounces around between all the main party members, whenever she's not on her own adventures. i find it more interesting to see their relationship as like...coming and going. she shows up at chilchuck's house or his shop at random, and stays for days at a time, and after a while they're able to fall into a routine as if it's second nature. they don't even talk all that much. their silences are comfortable. when she takes off again, he doesn't say anything sappy. he says something like "don't go eating a bunch of junk." or "don't go out of your depth and get yourself killed. this isn't the dungeon, you won't be resurrected." she hardly responds and leaves. she'll return again, maybe weeks or months later, and she'll stay for either a few hours or for a few days. and he'll appreciate the company without ever really saying it. and so it goes on

[roanofarcc]

WORTH YOUR WHILE

pairing. Tyler Owens x fem!reader

summary. as the local weather woman, you shared an interesting rivalry with your hometown storm-chaser. while you always reported on the dangerous weather from a safe distance, tyler barreled into it head-first. but things change the night of the county fair when you find yourself in the middle of a storm rather than in the safely of a newsroom. 

warnings. dramatic fluff, hurt/comfort, description of tornados, a curse word or two, description of injury, slightly inaccurate meteorological info.

word count. 2.9k || masterlist

a/n. hopping on the glen powell bandwagon bc he and daisy absolutely killed it in twisters!! feel free to send me requests for tyler, kate, and javi!

“If you keep looking at him like that your face will get stuck in a scowl, which is really bad for television,” your friend said, leaning into your side. With a roll of your eyes, you managed to pull your attention away from the self-titled ‘tornado wrangler’ who had stirred up a fuss in the line for funnel cakes. People buzzed all around him as he signed shirts and took photos, never dropping his smile that you often dreamed about smacking right off of his face. 

You had grown up alongside Tyler Owens, never as friends but as friends of friends. After you both split off for school to study meteorology, you returned to your hometown for very different reasons. Tyler started in the business of storm chasing, live streaming his adventures to people all across the internet who sensationalized the dangerous weather, and you scored a job as your hometown’s Weather Woman. Your job was to warn people about the threat of tornados while his was to drive head-on into them. 

That was where you two drew your lines in the sand when it came to each other. He thought you were scared of taking risks while you thought his thrill-seeking was stupid and would eventually get him or one of his team members hurt. Those opinions on each other's job led to you two butting heads every time you encountered one another. His mere presence was enough to annoy you, especially at your favorite event of the summer, the fair. 

“Look who it is,” Tyler’s voice sounded near you and your friend nudged your arm in the direction of it. You looked away from her just as he approached you, tipping his hat and flashing his teeth in a smile. “Didn’t know they still let you out of the newsroom these days.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest, as the air of arrogance surrounding him nearly choked you out. “Don’t you have a tornado to chase?” you asked, wanting to end the conversation before it fully started. Unfortunately, he never seemed put off by your jabs, but he was assumed by them. 

“I took the night off,” he replied. “I wanted to see if there was anything worth my while here tonight.” 

You raised your brows. “Oh really?” He nodded, smiling brightly at you. “Find anything yet?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’d be easier if she answered my phone calls.” 

Tyler disliked you a whole lot less than you disliked him. After you graduated and he started storm chasing, he tried at every given opportunity to get you to join his team. Even years later he still tried to, no matter how many times you told him the risk he was putting himself and his team in every time they barreled into a storm cell. He was relentless but you were happy where you were at. You wanted to help people when it came to severe weather, not make the storm look enticing for internet audiences. 

“I already told you, I’m not interested.” Storm chasing was a dangerous game that you had no intention of playing. Being from the Midwest, you had lived through your share of tornados. Chasing them was not in apart of your career path.

His smile faded slightly before he seemed to snap back to himself. “All I’m saying is, we could use a mind like yours out in the field.” The compliment was nice, you could admit that to yourself, but it wouldn’t win you over. He knew that too. “But suit yourself.” And with that he walked off, meeting up with the rest of his team that joined him at the fair that night. 

Your friend whistled lowly. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. 

“Do what?” 

“Say no to a man like that.” You rolled your eyes once more as the line you were in moved. As she stepped forward to order, you threw a quick glance over your shoulder in the direction Tyler had walked off in. You saw him happily chatting with his team before glancing back at you for just a moment before you returned your gaze forward.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of colorful lights, sticky heat, and enough fried food to make your stomach ache in the best possible way. Your friend left after a couple hours of roaming the prize barns and laughing at the kids screaming their heads off on the carnival rides, but you stuck around for a little longer, relishing in the sweet nostalgia the fair brought you. 

Before you had taken a couple of well-deserved days of work, you and your team had predicted a storm front moving. Later that night was supposed to bring rainfall and a thunderstorm or two popping up around the county and neighboring areas. You thought you’d have plenty of time to roam the fair for a little longer until it hit, but you noticed the shift in the weather almost immediately. The sudden uptick in wind pricked the back of your neck as the distant rumble of thunder echoed above the fair chaos. 

It was difficult to predict everything, that you had learned early on in your career. It also was hard to predict how quickly weather could change from bad to deadly. One moment you’re gazing up through the lights into the night sky, trying to gauge the incoming storm, and the next, the sirens are blaring across the fairgrounds. 

The crowd of people running in every direction made the walkways hazardous. You were knocked into and jostled around as you tried to run toward the restrooms that doubled as storm shelters. They were clear at the opposite end of the walkway, but they were your closest option. You dodged and weaved through the swarms of people, trying to stay on your feet. 

You only made it halfway to the shelter when you were stopped by the awful cries of a little girl who sat under the counter of one of the carnival games. She hugged her knees to her chest and called out for her mom, but no one who rushed by stopped. You didn’t think twice before you sidestepped the fleeing crowd and crouched down in front of the little girl. The wind picked up significantly, blowing the cheap prizes right out of the booths and sending everything flying around and knocking into people. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you raised your voice above the howl of wind and frantic people. 

“My mom!” she cried harder. “I lost her. I don’t know where she is!” 

You glanced back up at the sky. The lightning strikes illuminated the massive, dark mass moving in quickly. “Come with me, and I’ll help you find her, okay?” 

The noise all around grew louder, frightening the little girl, along with yourself, but as you outstretched your hand, she took it, and you quickly pulled her to her feet before you both took off running. The speakers urged everyone to seek shelter immediately, but you watched as people raced in the opposite direction of the shelters, probably bee-lining to cars in an awful call. They’d never out race it. 

“Charlotte!” Someone screamed and the little girl whipped her head around before she tugged hard on your hand. From behind you, the little girl’s mother appeared, immediately scooping up her daughter in her arms. “Oh my, God. Thank you!” she said, looking at you with teary eyes. 

“We have to take cover,” you told her, gently pushing her forward. “The shelter’s just up that way.” She thanked you again before she took off with her daughter in her arms. You wanted to follow, it was stupid not to when the wind gusts became more powerful, rattling everything dangerously and making it hard to think. But there were more people unsure of where to go and what to do. Groups of kids who had been dropped off for the evening stumbling frantically out of the rides and still dizzy. You stepped from the path and tried to direct people as best you could, shouting in tune with the speaker and the sirens for them to hurry into the shelter. 

It wasn’t until larger objects were plucked from the ground and tossed into the air like paper did you abandoned your aiding. The tornado screeched to life, ripping apart pieces of the show barns and rides with ease. You tried to close the distance between yourself and the shelter once more, but it wasn’t people in need that stopped you, it was a sheet of metal pried from the side of one of the food trucks. You tried to dodge the hurling objects, but the sheet came at you hard and fast. 

It sliced your shin, sending a wave of pain up through the rest of your leg. You stumbled, determined to stay upright, but the wind was too strong for your limping figure, and you toppled against the concrete, slamming your knees against the ground before you rolled over into the lousy shelter of a game’s tent somehow still standing. 

Panic started to set in as the storm raged around you, loud and monstrous. You covered your wound with your hands, unsure of where the blaring of the tornado ended and the fast-paced beat of your heart started, drumming in your ears and beating against your skull. You knew you couldn’t stay there, but leaving was just as dangerous as every attraction of the fair swirled around in the air. The cut from your leg painted your hands red and throbbed; it would only slow you down if you tried to run, creating even more of a risk. 

You didn’t know what to do. All of your life, the storms you had faced you’d always been lucky enough to find shelter in plenty of time, from the cellar in your backyard to your high school’s basement created just for such an occasion. 

Through the freight train sounding winds and your thundering heart, you heard a couple of voices that had to be close. Tearing your eyes away from the cut on your leg, you watched as another group of people sprinted down the walkway as someone yelled behind them to run. 

In all of your life, you’d never been so relieved to see Tyler Owens’s face standing just a few feet away; he hadn’t spotted you, and for a terrifying moment you thought he’d be unable to hear you yell out above the screaming storm. But somehow, he did. His head snapped in your direction, rain-coated and windblown, looking both out of sorts and in his element. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled as he ran over to you, dodging flying debris that grew larger by the minute. The second he crouched down in front of you, his eyes flickered onto your legs, and the blood seeping out between your fingers as you tried to keep pressure on the wound. 

“I thought I’d just hang out here,” you said, your sarcasm watered down by the fear clear in your teary eyes.

His brows furrowed, deep in thought for a moment as he looked between you and the distance there was still to cross to the only close shelter. Without saying a word, he peeled off his wet flannel, leaving himself in a shirt that was already nearly soaked through as the sideways rain beat down against the both of you. “I’m gonna tie this around your leg and then we’re gonna run, okay?” 

You shook your head frantically. The ache in your legs was intense and you had already lost a good amount of blood, not enough to make you woozy but you were well on your way. It felt like your heart had crawled up your throat, making it hard to breathe as panic soaked you to the bone along with the rain. Everything around you seemed to be ripped from the ground, even the anchored tent you were under was seconds away from being picked up. 

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a hold of your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “It’ll be alright. You gotta trust me, though.” The sincerity shined in his eyes, bright as the rest of the power around you flickered wickedly. With a nod of your head, you dropped your hands from your leg and let him tie the flannel around your cut. As he pulled it tight, you cried out in pain. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating until it was knotted. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and helped you up, looping an arm around your waist as you slung an arm around his shoulders. 

“Ready?” You didn’t get a chance to respond as the tent you were under was plucked from the ground, anchors and all, and flung backward into the tornado as it tore through the front entrance of the fairgrounds. Tyler took off, giving you no choice but to follow. 

You two stayed low, trying desperately to avoid the flying objects. With each step your leg burned, but Tyler’s hold on you was strong, not giving any room for you to lag behind or slip away. It felt like hours of running, but it was no more than a minute or two before you reached the shelter. The only major injury between the two of you was your leg, otherwise, you both collected a series of little cuts and bruises from your journey. 

Stumbling into the restroom, you were met with a hoard of scared fairgoers. You two managed to find a spot to slot yourself in with everyone else. He helped you lower yourself to the floor back in the corner just as the tornado was fully on top of you. You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your head. Tyler sat flushed against your side; you felt his hands rest over the top of yours as the building rattled violently. Squeezing your eyes shut, you refused to see the damage until the howl of wind subsided and people started to stir. 

Once it was over, everyone stumbled out of the shelter, getting jumbled together as police and ambulances rushed to the scene. Amongst people pushing and shoving to find their loved ones and get the hell home, you and Tyler were separated and before you could look for him, an EMT caught sight of your bloodied leg and ushered you to one of the ambulances. 

You sat on the back after the EMT stitched up your leg, looking over the torn-apart fairgrounds. Debris was littered everywhere, food trucks and carts overturned and some demolished, and rides were dislocated and strewn about in pieces. 

You clutched the bloodied flannel to your chest, shivering in the loss of adrenaline and temperature drop, and watched the sea of people until a familiar face popped into view, looking a little frantic as he stumbled through the crowd looking like he was in search of something. His eyes finally settled on you before he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached you. 

“Hi,” you greeted, smiling tiredly. 

“I was looking for you everywhere,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. “I looked away for a second and you were gone and-” You continued to smile, and he stopped himself. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Nothing,” you replied quietly before clearing your throat. “I, um, I just wanted to thank you. And I’m sorry for ruining your flannel.” You gestured to the ruined piece of clothing resting in your lap. 

Tyler was quiet for a moment, looking at the large bandage around your shin. “Don’t mention it,” he said, brushing off your thanks like he hadn’t just pretty much saved your life. “What were you doing out there anyway?” 

You sighed, feeling a creep of embarrassment up your spine. You should’ve known better but at the moment you just wanted to help people and had little regard for your own safety, until your leg was sliced open, that was. “There were people still out there, trying to figure out where to go. I was trying to help.” 

“That was stupid,” he said. “But brave. Stupidly brave, maybe.” 

“Funny. I think I’ve said the same thing about you a time for two.” 

His signature smirk slowly fell onto his lips. “Not to my face.”

“Oh, no. Never.” 

Tyler laughed, gently patting your knee, lingering for a moment before he dropped his hand back at his side. Someone called out your name, and you spotted your friend running back through the crowd. She had called you as soon as you had made it to the ambulance and told you she’d come back to take you home. 

“You should get some rest,” he said. “I’ll see you around.” As he turned around to walk away, you called out to him. 

“Tyler, wait.” He paused. “You should try calling me again. Maybe I’ll answer this time.” Breaking out in a grin, he tipped his hat in another goodbye, leaving you with a new feeling stirring inside your chest. 

Bonus! 

Hours later, after you had cleaned yourself up, you were tucked into bed, reading by the lamp light knowing sleep was probably far off after the events of the night. You didn’t expect your phone to ring that late into the night, and when you glanced at it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the caller ID, but that time it was something besides annoyance that you felt. 

You answered, discarding your book on your nightstand. “You don’t waste any time do you,” you teased. 

“What I can say,” Tyler said on the other line. “I know when I find something worth my while.”