#self hate so strong it bleed through to others

[shoeboxeater]

vent piece that turned out good so im posting it, thog dont caare 💯🔥‼️

[unabashednightmarepizza]

Imagine Neuvillette having a cheeky lover, who just enjoys his reactions and lives for making him loose his cool.

He was just so damn cool and powerful, a power to beckon with. Neuvillette was a strong pillar of Fontaine, a protector many looked up to. Even with his stone cold face that didn't give anything away at first glance and caused many men and women's heart to throb, you knew for the better.

Neuvillette was indeed a cutie whenever he got embrassed from your ministrations and hid his red face from all world, mainly you, whenever he had a chance.

This time wasn't any exception as Neuvillette was huddled inside his office, doing paperwork. One might think that this was what he liked doing most of the times by how almost a pleasant face he wore and frequent it was becoming.

But he couldn't have been more bored than he was right at this moment.

As he wrote down his notes and signed the documents, he couldn't help but think back to how lovely and absolutely breathtaking you looked at the morning.

As the true being he was, The Hydro Dragon... who opened up his heart and soul for you to embrace, who was accepted as who he is without a question.

The sunlight was slowly hitting your body and face just in the right way while you laid on his bed peacefully, chest rising up and down with one arm tucked under the soft pillow and the other curled next to your chest. A soft and small smile was on your lips, lightening up his dimmed soul as you laid facing him, making him be able to trace the soft contours of your face with his clawed hand, hair blanketing his scaled torso and your arms...

And how easy it was for you to accept him, as if it was second nature.

Thanks to how he and his kind was perceived, cold and harsh with no care for humans, he had deprieved of himself the beauty of touch. He refused to have that when he didn't deserve love, in his opinion.

How could someone even love a creature like him? Powerless, thought to be dead and even weak but still a danger nonetheless... Who could stay for him in his toughest times when even he didn't understand what he was feeling or thinking?

Therefore, he devoted himself to a long and eternal life of solidarity. He was fully convinced that this was all he could get, and even he was shocked at how the human mind can easily overpower their own self.

Another magnificient mystery of the universe, he would often say and think to himself at the dead of the night while staring into his own reflection and long tail.

Well, these were all before you came and broke everything he thought was right.

Quite literally actually.

"Monsieur Neuvillette, I'm so sorry! I wasn't actually looking where I was going-" you hurriedly tried to gather all the paper that fell on the marble floor from the hands of none other than Neuvillette, the Chief Justice. You absolutely hated, even loathed being in a hurry. It always made you loose track of what you did or said, which resulted in chaos and a life time of embarrassment.

Such as right now.

"It's quite alright, dear Y/N... Are you okay?'" As the gentleman he is, Neuvillette only gave you a worried look, also bending down to help you and prevent you from piercing your knees from the glass shards on the ground as a result of you two's collision. You didn't even realise the glasses you were holding was indeed broken, too occupied with making sure he was okay and not to loose your mind by how much more handsome he looked up close-

"Am-Am I okay? Monsieur, I dropped almost all the cups on you- Oh my! Are you hurt anywhere? Are you bleeding? Come, we need to immediately look for any injury, one of the shards could have pierced you!"

Just as he was about to tell you that it was fine, you didn't have to worry so much, enough to come close to crying and he wasn't hurt at all, a shard pierced his finger through his gloves, making him hiss and almost jump away from you...

Whiiich resulted in a horrified reaction from you.

"Oh the Archons... I'm gonna die. Please hurry, let me treat them!" You mumbled in a daze, quickly pulling yourself together as you took a hold of his hand and made him sit down on one of the chairs outside his office, as if he would faint from a simple scratch. All the while, Neuvillette was in a deep shock at how things turned out as he sat there with his palm facing up, staring at you as only a wisp of your form was visible to eye by how fast you were moving.

He didn't understand why you, even if he had a "crush" on you for the longest time as Furina and Navia often told him, would dote on him and openly show worry. He was a strong individual, apart from being the literal Hydro Sovereign who had all of his powers back, and he definetly didn't need to be coddled like a little kid even if you two were getting closer and closer each day-

"This might sting a bit, but I'll try to be gentle..." You frowned sadly as if the thought alone was enough to make you cry, already feeling bad enough for possibly ruining his busy day with your clumsiness.

And his expressionless face as he stared up at you did nothing to help your nerves.

Neuvillette could feel his gaze on you had become softer, much more gentle as he gazed at your careful hands more. The feeling was foreign to him but not unwelcomed, the pleasant and soft warmth in his heart pulled a small smile out of him which was a rarity by itself. Many would argue that he never smiled or showed any emotions, a man unmoveable and cold as the highest peak of Liyue itself...

Well, you begged to differ right at this moment.

"Why do you care about me so much?" He didn't really mean to sound so rude and harsh with his question, but it was the affect of being by himself all these time, with having only himself to care and patch his wounds.

Even as small as a scratch like the one on his finger.

But it seemed his tone didn't really scare you, as a confused look settled upon your face, brows scrunched together and head tilted to the left.

A frequent thing you did which he finds to be very adorable.

"Why wouldn't I? You deserve to be cared for..." You knew there was a deeper meaning behind his question, his eyes filling with silent tears as a confused gaze settled. Hands fiddling together as he lowered his eyes and gnawed on his soft but slightly chapped lips, probably as a result of his habit of biting on it. He was being slightly vulnerable more than usual, something he had just started to do with you after months of pestering him and convincing him that you meant no threat.

But still, it was cute.... He was cute.

And it brought a different kind of bravery to you, a power that pulled you towards him by his hands, shocking both him and yourself as you rubbed his knuckles softly. Neuvillette's eyes widened noticably, shaking in your hold as the warmth you had slowly got absorbed by his greedy heart and soul that had been all alone by itselves.

Perhaps everyone was right about his feelings of you that he tried to hide, that you were such a sweet and kind person that suited him the best and obviously loved him back.

"Life might not have been kind to you before, Mr.Neuvillette... However, I hope that we were all able to change it even a little bit and that you feel loved and happy." You softly say with a closed-eye smile, head tilted to the side and he knew... He knew you said them whole-heartedly, without any hint of malice or I'll will.

Ba-dump...

All his life, Neuvillette only knew harshness and loneliness. Never once was he ever cared for, coddled up or worried over. He had never seen someone as selfless as you are, as kind as you are and also as persistent as you with a soft and pure heart, and even more pure soul.

Often times, people avoided him at all costs and he too avoided them as long as he didn't have a job to get done with them.

But not you.

You were stubborn to see past that cold mask he had put over his face, the stoic and uncaring mask he had on so that he didn't get attached to anyone deeply and got hurt in the end. You always stuck with him throughout the day, asking him questions or just simply sitting there as he tried to noncholantly answer them with a thundering heart.

You knew the sweets he loved, how he liked his tea and even readied the water he loved before he started working and made sure the container was full.

But none of the sweet gestures would be as meaningful as the one you just did: Openly tell him that you love him and care for him.

Maybe he was being delusional, blinded by his growing feelings for you and having to keep them locked inside himself, but there was one certain thing he knew as he looked up to your precious jewels...

He wasn't. You trully loved him for him, wished to make him happy and wipe that frown away and just make him see the happiness this world could offer... And maybe, you might have muttered your confession under your breath but he couldn't have heard it... Right?

But now, as the cloudy feeling of the questions that was caused by his own insecurities were washed away, there was a much more important question as you waited anxiously in front of him for his reaction and he sweated awkwardly...

What kind of date was the best one to confess to you?

He sighed out tiredly, already planning if anyone would notice him sneaking out of his office, even with his tall posture, at how appealing the thought of being with you, even with how often you teased him with your silly comments and reactions, sounded so nice.

Oh how he wished you were here, he already felt guilty leaving the warm bed you shared because of these papers that absoultely meant nothing and all the stupid people he would have to-

"My love, are you busy? Shall I come in?"

You were trully an angel sent to just him and only him.

Neuvilette's face noticeably softened at the timid voice he heard behind his office door, following soon after a soft knock as his feet already took him to the source. He quickly gave you a kiss on your forehead as soon as he opened the door, his rich perfume filling your nose as a dopey smile stretched your face and you reciproceted with a fond kiss on his lips.

Just being two sickly in love people.

After some time with basking in each other's presence, he sighed out with a half relief and half tiredness as he nuzzled his nose deeper into your neck, his arms thightening around your smaller frame.

"You need not ask, never, love... You are always welcomed, my dear."

You let him lead you to the sofa in his office with a wide smile, where you usually laid after picking up a book and read it while Neuvillette did his job- though you often got distracted by how handsome and absolutely ethereal he looked, how peaceful he seemed after years of stress.

But today, he was different.

His back was more rigid and tense than normal, his eyes were scrunched up more frequently and he sighed almost angrily at any given time so much so that you were worried his dragonic features would come out.

And even his precious water cup alongside its container, one which would always be full to the top, was empty and he never for once tried to grab it.

Yep, it seems he is very irritated and on a knife's edge today...

So, as the amazing significant other you are, you saw the troubled and disheveled state he was in and couldn't help but want to fix it as soon as possible.

And what better way is there than being the cheerful and teasing one you were? That side pulled many reactions out of him after all, and would surely cheer hım up as well!

"Neuvi~"

He immediately lifted his head to look at you with a dumbfounded yet curious look, a smile so bright on his face at just hearing his nickname out of your lips, with the voice he adored the most. He could already feel a little bit of the exhaustion slipping out of his body, his quil on his hand was slowly put aside as his whole attention was turned to you and you only.

"Yes, my dear? What is it-" he said with a soft smile, voice barely covering his happiness but soon trailed off when you got up from your position on the couch, shutting the book you definetly didn't even read a word from and stood in front of his desk with a playful smile.

Oh... Oh! Not this time, he was exhausted and he definetly wouldn't be able to uphold his serious face-

But oh boy, he didn't expect to hear what came out next as his whole face reddened in embarrasment.

"According to the judgement of Oratrice Mecanique D'analyse Cardinale, you have been found guilty..."

You leant over the table teasingly without a care, arching your back more and tilting your head to look down at his piercing yet soft amethyst eyes that widened upon hearing your imitation of his usual commanding voice when he declared the decision of that machine, already anticipating what else you planned with this-this... This flustering and heart picking, breathtaking act of absolute love and playfulness.

"...of being cute~"

Oh how nice it was seeing that redness coating his cheeks...

Neuvillette, to be quite honest, was left slacked jawed, shocked to his core and absoultely flabbergasted with his jaw on the floor. Never in his long and eternal life, did he ever think that his line and the Oratrice itself would be used... To flirt with him.

But he loved it. He loved it so much, his heart beated hard and the air in his lungs were knocked out because it was you.

You, who had stolen his soul and heart all for yourself to never give up on it. You, who had a heart of golden and soul as soft as the Silk Flowers of Liyue.

You, who he called his partner and would continue calling that forever.

You, whom he was ready to sacrifice the world for.

But he didn't realize he had been too silent, enough to make you worry and drop the facade sooner than you anticipated as you looked at him from each side.

"Neuvi? Are you okay? I didn't say something out of li-" you worriedly asked with a hand over his arm, the shocked and frozen expression of his face making you take action, ready to cool him down because the redness that was steadily going towards a purple face couldn't just be normal.

But your lover only smiled like a fool and shook his head, taking a hold of your hand that was smoothing down his hair and rubbing his nape for comfort and laid a kiss on it, before bringing it close to his face.

"Sorry, my love... Your loving eyes had just taken all my words away."

Damn him and his charming words...

You giggled shyly, desperately trying to hide your cheeks from him to save yourself from the embarrasment. Your eyes landed on his inviting lap, all cozy and soft embrace as you slowly pushed him back to straddle him easily, loving and wanting to feel his arms around your frame as your heart was filled with unconditional love that often poured down from the confines of your heart.

All the while, his eyes never left yours as he watched you with dilated pupils, mouth open in awe as you moved around to find a much more comfortable position.

He promised to lay the universe before your feet if you wanted so, after all.

"So, my words didn't even affect you?"

You asked cutely, a hint of disappointment behind your voice as your hand played with the hair he often pushed aside and not clipped back as per your request. Even though he got flustered each time you stroked his hair and he remembered the reasoning you gave him why you wished him to do so, he wasn't going to deny you of anything.

On the other hand, your excuse of "It just gives you another kind of vibe... which makes me want to make out with you." did certain things to him... Which could be often seen on his pants-

"No..?" He hesitantly asked with a raised brow, earning a giggle from you as you pointed to his chest with equally flushed cheeks.

"Then why is your heart beating so hard?"

"It has been that way ever since I met you, my lovely spouse. It's so full of you that I can hardly call it my own."

He flushed suddenly, burying his face to your neck with a groan as he laid open mouthed kisses to divert your attention from the sudden surge of love and shyness he felt from what you said. Nuzzling his face closer to yours, he couldn't help but agree that this cheekiness you only had with him was the best part of his day and life.

Only he got to receive this, it was something only he had and no one else did.

Well, damn the smooth talker...

You could only shake your head in fake disappointment with a loving smile, bonking his head softly with yours in an affectionate move as you tutted at him and kissed the corner of his mouth with a burning face, giving all your love and energy to the tired man and showing how much you liked his words.

"You are such a silly dragon... And as much as I love you, it doesn't mean I won't tease you about this later. For now though? Let's cuddle, you can read those damn papers later."

He trully was a silly dragon deeply in love.

He chuckled under his breath at how much closer you nuzzled to him while pushing the papers away, as if you wanted to become one with his body. Nodding his head as he laid back with you on his lap, a hand rubbing up and down your back, he sighed out in bliss and left his work unfinished for the day, yet another new thing he did after he had gotten together with you.

Just as always, you were right.

And he could live with that, forever, if he had the chance.

[inhuman-obey-me]

Barbatos and 23?

Barbatos + 23 | "Cellar Door" - Spiritbox

cw: mentions of Lesson 16/MC death

"Have you ever seen your own dead body before?"

If you had been aiming to catch Barbatos off-guard for once, you may have just succeeded. The demon nearly chokes on his tea, causing him to mutter an "excuse me" before clearing his throat as he regains his composure.

He pats his lips with a napkin, looking at you with both curiosity and understanding. "I assume there is something weighing on your mind?"

"Mm." You find yourself gazing out the large castle window, the moonlight bathing the Devildom foliage. Despite all the time that has passed, there are nights you find yourself there again, staring at your own mangled body at the bottom of the stairs. How, for a moment, two of you existed in one space — one just resurrected, the other at death's door. "…So, have you?"

"…I have." Barbatos leans back in his seat, gaze still fixed on you. "More than once. The benefit of being able to see through space and time, I suppose."

"Right. I guess you get used to it. Or maybe it didn't jar you much in the first place." There is hint of resentment in your voice, a tightness in your chest as you turn back to meet those dark eyes of his. Maybe bringing this up was a bad idea. Why did you think the demon with control over space-time could ever feel the same way as you?

"I wouldn't say that." Barbatos taps a finger on the table, a sign that he was trying to form his words carefully. "I wasn't always the calm and reassured demon you see before you. I used to be quite an arrogant fool, in fact. I have made mistakes, grave ones."

You remember him speaking before of atonement, a past he was determined to rectify.

With some apprehension, he slowly reaches his hand out to cover your own. His voice is soft as he asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I thought I was over it." The words leave your lips before you can even think, as if Barbatos' simple question unlocked something deep within your soul, breaking bindings that had long buried despair. "But I'm not. After all of this time, I still think about it. I went to the past, I was killed, I was … I was brought back to life only to see another version of myself, to see me … bleeding and mangled and dead." Your voice wavers, but you're determined to hold on. Fingers curls into your palm, nails digging into flesh. "And you … you said you just. Changed the timeline. Collapsed it, made it that this was the real one, that I was the one and only me. But am I? Or," a shaky breath, "… did I just slip into another version of myself? Did a part of me really die back then?" Your voice strains. "I have so many questions, and I'm afraid to know the answers to any of them!"

Barbatos is quiet at first, though his hand still covers yours. His expression is unreadable and distant, and you again wonder if he can understand at all. What was one death to a timeless being?

"My first encounter with death, of my own death…is something I will never forget." He squeezes your hand gently, meeting your gaze. "I … won't speak in detail of it, but it was harrowing. The first time I truly came face-to-face with consequences for my own actions." He shakes his head with a somber chuckle. "Would you believe that I still didn't learn my lesson? Yet, despite all the deaths of self I have either seen through visions or came to encounter personally thereafter, it is the one I remember most vividly."

Barbatos moves now to be next to you, taking both of your hands in his. "My dear, I apologize for the role I played in all of this, and I'm not sure if I can provide all the answers you seek. But I can tell you that you are not alone. Time and space are tricky things, and what you went through is something that would break most. But here you are, still standing strong. " His features soften. "And, there is one thing I know for certain. One answer I can provide."

"What?" You hate how your voice cracks, but you lean in closer to Barbatos' warmth.

"There will always be parts of ourselves that die and are reborn. Such is the nature of the universe." He squeezes your hands again. "But you are very much you. You are meant to be here, and that will never change."

[kitagenre]

achilles' heel | hoshina x f!reader

synopsis: the vice-captain has always been invisible, the perfect adjective for someone who is in a job where people come and go.

warning: language! (aside from that there's none... i think)

a/n: just very self-indulgent ! i hope my hoshina gurlies will love this 🤞🏼🥰🤍

"What's the situation in Tachikawa?"

"Not good. The amount of Yojus is continuously increasing," Konomi reported, "Shinomiya is helping a ton right now. But, this will be really, really bad if you don't go here immediately, Vice-Captain,"

Out of all the days, he had to go to the headquarters today for the monthly briefing with the general. Out of all the days, he thought in disbelief. He should've taken that unsettling feeling of seeing the squad, and you, smiling at each other this morning before he and Mina went.

"How many more minutes?" Mina asked the officer who was preparing for the special transportation that they would use to go back to Tachikawa base.

"30 minutes, Captain—"

"Make it ten," Sochiro says with finality.

"Vice-Captain Hoshina, that will be impossible to do—" Maybe it's a combination of fear, anxiety, and desperation, but in the blink of an eye, Sochiro grabs the collar of the officer in front of him, "Make it ten."

"Hoshina." Mina calls his name, making him stop. Holding onto Sochiro's shoulder, Mina prompted him to step back from the officer, "Please make it as fast as you can. We cannot waste more time."

"R-Roger!"

"Calm down, Vice-Captain," Mina spoke again, "They will be fine. Our officers are strong."

He knows that. He knows that more than anyone. He trained those officers with his own hands and pushed them every day to their limits. He's the one who guided them from the very beginning. But there's this... fear... that he cannot explain. And he hates himself for that.

Soshiro knows better than anyone that attachments should not be fostered in this line of work. They have a job with no certainty of tomorrow. People come and go all the time. As someone who has been here for the past years, gained and lost comrades in every mission, Soshiro thinks that he'll be smart enough to not fall in love with anyone. But that day... was just different.

When you walked into the exam room and he first saw you on the screen from the operations room, your hair was a little messy but in a pretty way, you were smiling at everyone, and you were so happy to get that 7% combat power for the first time. You were the most gentle in that batch, aside from being the most beautiful, and something about you messed with his brain.

It's like you wore your empathy like a weapon.

The first time he interacted with you alone was after your first mission. Soshiro got injured after saving an officer. He doesn't usually get injured with small-fry Kaijus, besides, he's one of the strongest in the Defense Force, but the timing was off and the only thing he wants is to save that officer. You did the first aid for his bleeding arm and continuously checked on him after that.

Soshiro couldn't explain it. He just woke up one day without the walls he hardly built up and found himself scared of losing you. He found himself secretly pursuing you inside the base. Giving you small gifts like it's a mission. Leaving just because flowers, mostly peonies, whenever he can drop by that flower shop near the Hoshina mansion. Leaving you notes with a smile on his face because the whole dorm is wiretapped. Requesting day-offs that coincide with yours. Soshiro was confused, but he was happy.

He shuts his eyes. How fucking selfish of him to only think of you right now, right?

"Let's go, Hoshina. They are ready."

Reports are continuously done through their earpieces. He can only listen. As long as he can still hear your name in action. Please, you have to hold on. Just until they are back to the base.

"Fortitude 9! A daikaiju just appeared! Shinomiya and ___ are facing it right now!"

Shivers went down his spine, and a wave of anger laced his voice as he shouted, "Tell them to back off! Are they fucking crazy?!"

You are not dumb. You are one of the most improved officers. But Fortitude 9 is just too much for your current stats. Hell, it's even too much for Kikoru right now who is much more advanced than you when it comes to skills.

"Hoshina." Mina calls him again, "Trust our officers."

"But—"

"They are not weaklings," Mina says.

You surely aren't. But he is, he admits in his mind. When it comes to you, he is.

The ride to Tachikawa base is agonizing.

When they reached the base, the fire caused by the raid was already gobbling up the buildings. Immediately, Sochiro went straight to the location of the Daikaiju and found you and Kikoru in an awful situation. You're down and unconscious after colliding with a wall.

Kikoru is still okay, but both of you need to go now.

"Vice-Captain!"

"Get out of here, Shinomiya." He commanded.

Kikoru stood up, wanting to get you out of the situation too, but Soshiro noticed her foot injury, "Get out! Now!"

"Vice-Captain, __ is still—"

"Worry about yourself." He says. It's an order. Kikoru knows.

He is a hypocrite. Because the first thing he did was to get the Kaiju away from where you're lying down as much as possible, "I am definitely going to kill you, disgusting piece of shit."

All his life, Soshiro was undermined. He's not good enough. He's not strong enough. His katana will never make a difference. He won't be able to save other people with it. But he did. He became Vice-Captain. Ashiro trusted him. His officers believe in him. But if he won't be able to save you today, then maybe they are right.

"Do you know who that girl is, you ugly fucker?" Sochiro asked the monster in front of him, "Someone you shouldn't touch because I'll definitely tear you to pieces if you do. Go to fucking hell now."

Kaijus has always angered Sochiro. But, the level of rage he has right now is just different and even Mina was shocked. They gave them no time to attack using big weapons as Sochiro went for the core of the Daikaju on his own.

They seized the Kaiju's body in possession for further studies and potential help that it could give the Defense Force. With blood on his forehead, Sochiro sprinted towards you after the kaiju was down. Pulling you close to his arms. You have a heartbeat, but very very injured. He still sighs in relief. As long as there's a heartbeat, "__," he calls for you faintly.

Broken ribs. A head concussion. Damaged weapons and suit maxed out. You really did your best out there. But you're still not a hero. You will never be. You just did your best because you know that he will come. There's no way he won't.

Thanks to the advanced technology of the Defense Force, your recovery was much faster. The Tachikawa base is under renovation after the huge damage and you were transferred to the care of Division 1 in the meantime, along with Kikoru and the hottest name in the force right now, Kafka Hibino.

Kikoru told you everything that happened. It turned out that Kafka is Kaiju No. 8 and he revealed himself to the force to protect everyone in Tachikawa. Captain Ashiro and Vice-Captain Hoshina thought that the Kaiju was officially down after Hoshina went to you, turns out that the raid is planned out more than the Defense Force expected. You weren't surprised though. You trust your comrades that much.

"Think you can start training tomorrow again?" Captain Narumi asks you.

"Yes, Captain." You feel fine and normal.

"Good," Gen smirked, "I don't give special treatments. Start showing me what you actually got. I am very, very curious."

"Captain," you gathered every courage left to address him.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry for asking you but I don't know anyone else here to ask, but is Vice-Captain Hoshina okay?"

Gen's face was painted with astonishment upon hearing your question. You are just wondering... it's not like he needs to answer it. You wrote him a text the moment you got your phone but he never responded. It's also not like he needs to reply, he probably has a lot of things to do after all that damage. But, you're just so worried.

"Do you think I give a fuck about that bowl-cut dude?" Narumi chuckles. Wow, he's really immature, you thought, "If you're asking if he's still alive, unfortunately, yes."

You concluded that you wouldn't get a decent answer from Narumi so you just saluted and went out of his office. When morning came, you were finally out again in the field. But since you're still adjusting, you stick with an exercise routine that you usually do before combat training. And honestly, even if you want to spar with Narumi, you feel like you'll just mess it up.

You can't stop thinking about Sochiro.

But weeks passed after your recovery and you're still waiting to hear from him that you're now pissed. You do not have an excuse anymore and Gen is already forcing you to spar with him. So, you did.

"That's all you got?" Narumi chuckles, pinning you on the ground, "You're overrated."

"What?" Your eyebrows furrowed at him as you kicked his stomach to get out of his grip. But Narumi is strong, there's a reason he's the Captain of Division 1.

"Your Vice-Captain praised you so much," he chuckled.

"Your fault, you believed him." You smirked. Just hearing the word Vice-Captain pissed you off, "Let go of me now."

"Don't wanna," Narumi smirks again.

"What? I'm gonna—"

"Captain Narumi," you were cut off by a voice you longed to hear for weeks. Gen's smile went wider at the sight of Sochiro. This son of a bitch. He knows Sochiro is coming and he's doing this to piss him off. You finally kicked him out of you.

"Well, well, how are you, Hoshina?" Narumi's mocking him.

"Good," he answered, "The meeting will start in minutes, Captain Narumi."

"Too bad I'm busy sparring with my officer,"

"I'm sure Officer __ can wait for you." Your eyes darted to Sochiro. His coldness sent shivers down your spine. The frustration and confusion crawled in your system once again. You haven't seen each other for weeks and this is how he treats you? Like who the fuck cares if Narumi's here? Does he want to be a professional gentleman now?

Or... maybe he's just done with you. Maybe the rumors are right. The Vice-Captain is never serious when it comes to his relationships. Now that you're not under his wing, he's already done. Maybe that's it, then?

Narumi doesn't really have a choice so he stood up and went with Sochiro to go to the meeting, leaving you alone in the training room. Just in time for dinner, you went with Kikoru and Kafka.

"Vice-Captain is here, have you seen him?" Kikoru asked. You nodded quietly.

After dinner, you changed to a pair of sleepwear. Don't get it wrong, you love Division 1. But you just really want to go back to Tachikawa.

Unable to sleep, you stayed looking at the window from your room. You're in the same position when the raid happened. You remembered thinking about what's really between you and Sochiro. Maybe you got the answer you want now.

"How are you?" You almost jumped out of shock as you hear his voice. Sochiro stands beside the door, "The door is unlocked. I'm sorry."

You looked away from him— tearing up. Wow, he's here, but does that make up for the days he ghosted you? This asshole. Maybe Narumi should really punch him in the gut.

"If Narumi is forcing you to train, tell me—"

"Shut up."

"I'm sorry, baby,"

Oh, how you hate this man. He knows exactly what to do. He knows exactly how to get you over and over again.

"I hate you so much," you looked at him.

To you, Sochiro is like the stars. Before entering the Defense Force, everyone admired Mina Ashiro. But you were different. You admired the Vice-Captain who is mostly not seen. He saved you once when you were a civilian. He saved you over and over again when you were a cadet, and he still continued to save you when you became an officer.

"Not a single response to my messages? Not a single letter? Do you know how worried I am? Do you know how much I thought that you're blaming yourself for what happened when that's not—" In the blink of an eye, Sochiro envelopes your small figure to his arms.

"I'm sorry,"

"If you're done with me, you can just tell me." You removed yourself from his embrace.

"Done with you?"

"Isn't that the reason why, Vice-Captain Hoshina?" You asked him, "You're probably—"

"You scared the fuck out of me that I got scared even more because I never felt that way before. I was terrified, that I have to take a step back," He spoke, "Tell me why would you face a Daikaiju like that? You have nothing to lose? You're not scared?"

"I am an officer of the Defense Force, Vice-Captain. That is my duty—"

"Fuck that." He hissed, "What about me?"

"What about you?" You asked in confusion. Sochiro is never the type to curse his duty. He loves his job. He fought for this job.

"I can't lose you."

"Sochiro..."

"For years, I fought for the Defense Force thinking I have nothing to lose. Death never scared me. But when I saw you lying down, unconscious, I feel like being punched in the gut a million times, __." Seeing him lose his composure is new to you, "This is so wrong because I have a duty to fulfill and so are you and it's unfair for the Defense Force that we took an oath for, but I just can't... lose you..."

"Sochiro..." you held his face, "You won't lose me just because of that. I am not weak."

"I know." He gave you a weak smile, "But I am... when it comes to you. You're my Achilles' heel."

The great Vice-Captain Sochiro Hoshina is confessing that you make his knees tremble in fear, something not even the biggest Kaiju can do. He envelopes you in his warmth and places a soft kiss on your forehead, "I love you too damn much."

[get-rammed]

The idea for this AU comes from the games, but mostly follows after Shadow Generations with some modifications, hence the AU part. It's mostly self indulgent since he's always been my favorite, and I saw an excuse to draw body horror :}

Will contain spoilers for Shadow/Sonic Generations. But whomp whomp, more information for my version of Shadow/the basis of this AU below.

So the main idea for this AU is that Shadow didn't lose his Doom Powers after he defeated Black Doom. He overcame his violent angry nature to remain a morally grey good guy. Who just happens to have sick ass extra powers now. I am unfortunately a sucker for "I was born to be bad, and I do the wrong thing sometimes, but I want to be good and I'm trying my best."

Another large change for this AU is designs and heights. They're super powered aliens. Let em be a lil bit bigger. Plus that's just kind of what I specialize in :')

--

When Black Doom and the Time Eater were defeated, it caused various rifts to be left open with nobody to close them. Which in turn allows anomalies into Shadow and Co.'s world. They can range from simple items (pens, cups, occasionally buildings, things of that nature), to lost and confused people/animals/what have you, to large dangerous beings from other worlds and timelines.

Sometimes the things that comes through the portal, don't want to go back through it, so that's where Shadow found his purpose. He gets to fight and devour the anomalies that won't go home :)

Shadow uses his Doom Morph to consume dangerous anomalies, absorbing their energy in the process. When he's in this form, he's far more reactive and hostile. So they have to clear the area before deploying him. There a handful of people he won't outright attack even in this form, but Rouge is one of the few who can calm him down if he starts to slip too far into the darkness. Because I am a sucker for their friendship :')

There are a number of agencies and world governments who call upon Shadow now for help. Basically if they send Shadow after you, you're not surviving. In a way he does absolutely hate becoming an attack dog for all these agencies, but he also knows he's the only one (sometimes with help) who can stop some of these anomalies.

That being said, if he doesn't agree an anomaly is dangerous, he will not fight as strongly or destroy them. He still maintains his idea of what's right and wrong. It's Shadow, he's not going to blindly follow orders.

--

Shadow has become a little more open after finally getting to properly grieve the loss of his family. Finally got to process everything. He's still standoffish and slow to trust, but he's at least willing to try to trust more people.

--

With his Doom Powers remaining, he has to constantly fight the urges to commit to the chaos and violence he was born for. Most times it just gives him a headache to fight back mentally. But when the urges are very strong, he has to fight the internal war much harder. Which is where he ends up with bloody noses.

The bloody noses can happen suddenly, and be rather aggressive. In the cases of bloody noses, he'll chaos snap out of the room and try to find somewhere quiet and dark until his internals heal themsleves.

It's basically a case of his blood pressure spiking insanely fast and bursting a bunch of delicate vessels in his nose. Also the idea of the darkness inside of him just kinda. Chewing away at him metaphorically and physically.

He's had enough time to figure out what sets him off, but occasionally random things trigger a nose bleed. This has forced him to be more delicate with how he responds to things, but also has forced him to be a bit more open about what's wrong with him.

The bloody noses also help act as a power balance thing so Shadow isn't just all powerful all the time. If he's not careful, he can go too far and hurt innocent people. Which he'd rather not do. It's an indicator of sorts that he's leaning too far in the wrong direction and he needs to check himself.

Lack of inhibitor rings. With the retention of the Doom Powers, Shadow has more going on internally to help balance his chaos energy. More in tune with himself, but not fully connected if that makes sense. Not wearing some of his inhibitor rings allows him greater access to the Doom Powers at all times.

It also happens that if he wears his wrist rings, they limit too much energy and he becomes sluggish and tired. He now requires more energy to function, and all 4 inhibitor rings limit too much.

He keeps the ones on his ankles on as he does still need some kind of a blocker so he doesn't burn himself out. Only having 2 on is a good balance so he can function and fight.

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part IX (act I)

Word count: 11,504 Warnings: Blood/injury, violence, death, animal death, temporary dismemberment, dissociation, self-deprecating thoughts (not really, Jimmy’s just a listener and doesn’t know it), strong language, fictional racism/xenophobia, panic attacks Summary: The Double Lifers have successfully thwarted the invasion by Hels Tek, but not unscathed. Now that Tango’s been outed as Bravo’s doppelgänger, the remaining threads are starting to unravel, and Jimmy suddenly finds himself fighting to save Tango from his own inner demons. Can their love survive the fallout?

A/N: This took a ridiculously long time to write and got way longer than I’d originally intended so uhhh happy belated holidays? There’s a lot in this one that I’m excited to show y’all so I really hope u enjoy it, pls reblog/comment if u do, it means a lot.

Also this chapter has been split into two parts bc Tumblr is a hoe with a paragraph limit, link to the second half at the end. And as always, this is part of a series, so the previous chapters can be found on my au directory here. - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part IX (act I) - no tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony

~*~

Somewhere in Double Life, a player kneels in a bloody wheat field.

Jimmy’s senses are flooded with iron. He’s regenerated enough health that his nose isn’t actively bleeding anymore, but he’s sure it’s still all over his face. As he finally pulls away from Tango, he realizes he’s smeared plenty of it on Tango’s shoulder. The blood on Tango’s chin and claws hasn’t fully dried yet, either. And through his slightly parted mouth, Jimmy can see it’s stained his teeth.

(Did you see what he did back there?)

(He was like an animal.)

(How long do you think he’s been keeping that in?)

Jimmy pushes the thoughts away. Focus on the here and now.

To be fair, though, the ‘here and now’ is a horrible place. The ranch is burning behind them. His eyes are burning from the tears and the smoke in the air. His throat feels tight and scratchy. He’s physically and emotionally exhausted, the weight of it dragging him down, sinking into the trampled soil beneath him. The singed edges of his wings are still stinging, but it’s an easily forgotten pain among everything else.

Jimmy hates crying. Especially in public. Really, nothing makes him feel more useless and pathetic than crying. But he has to admit, he’s at least a little calmer and more clear-headed. Now that he’s cried himself out, his awareness is gradually returning to the conversation going on around him.

“What in’a world was that about?!” Bdubs cries out, sounding absolutely flabbergasted.

“Yeah, who were those guys, anyway?” Etho asks, knitting his brows together. “How’d they get here?”

Joel makes a distressed noise. “They shouldn’t be able to open a portal here, this is a private world!”

“I know, I know, okay,” Grian gripes, “I’m workin’ on it. Hang on-”

“And what was all that nonsense about doggelpangers?” Scar pauses. “Uh, dop- doppabang-”

“Doppelgängers?” Cleo calls over wryly.

Scar hangs his head. “Dang it. Yes, that.”

“I dunno, but what if they come back?” Joel asks nervously. “What should we do?”

Isn’t that the question?

Jimmy takes quick stock of his surroundings. Grian is standing a little way’s off from Jimmy’s huddle, head bent down as he furiously scrolls through his communicator, the screen reflecting in his tinted glasses. Scar is hovering next to Grian, peering keenly over his shoulder, his bow held limply at his side. Both of them look a little roughed up from the battle, but alright for the time being.

Etho, still crouched at the spot where Bravo died, is searching through the dropped items. Joel is pacing in front of the broken portal frame and casting anxious glances at it, one hand gripping his sword while the other rakes through his hair, antennae twitching with agitation. There are a few scrapes and gashes between them- mostly superficial and likely to heal on their own.

Pearl’s wolf pack has been considerably thinned out- something Jimmy notes with a pang of guilt- but there’s still plenty of them milling about the place. With blood-matted fur and tucked tails, it’s clear they took a beating. Pearl herself must’ve gone, from the way they sniff and look around aimlessly, giving plaintive yips and whines. Scott is conspicuously absent as well, another hint as to the bonded pair’s fate. Jimmy’s sure they’ll be along soon.

Bigb and Ren are also nowhere to be seen- likely more casualties of the battle. Ren makes for a rather large target when in wolf mode; he probably drew a lot of enemy fire. And of course, Bigb would’ve gone with him. Box is quite a way from the ranch, Jimmy recalls, so it’ll take them a few minutes to get back.

Martyn is busy mining up the rest of the portal frame, seeming none the worse for wear. Cleo sits a couple yards away, one leg stretched out in front of her. The other one has been chopped clean off at the knee, and is clenched in their hand- but wait, it does that sometimes, Jimmy reminds himself before he can panic. The detached limb isn’t even bleeding, and she’s already pulling some string from her inventory to stitch it back on, seeming more inconvenienced than anything else.

Bdubs, across the field, looks no more beat-up than he always does. He’s fussing over his horse, snatching up stray bits of wheat to heal as it struggles to get its legs under it. Impulse’s horse, devoid of rider, has wandered off towards the barn- perhaps hearing the other horses inside. Impulse himself is crouched beside Jimmy and Tango, his golden eyes intently studying the collar that’s been locked around Tango’s neck.

Tango is still completely silent. He doesn’t move or give any indication that he’s at all mentally present, just kneeling idly in the dirt, expression blank, eyes distant. Nothing but static through their soul bond. He doesn’t seem to be seriously injured- most of the blood stains aren’t his. That realization isn’t as relieving as Jimmy wants it to be.

Grian clears his throat. “Right. First thing’s first, are we all still here?” he asks, scanning his communicator. “No one went through the portal?”

“Nah, all good,” Martyn calls over his shoulder as the final obsidian block pops onto the ground.

Etho has his communicator pulled up too. “Yeah, uh, just looks like Scott and Pearl got killed,” he reports. “Ren and Bigb, too. I’ll shoot ‘em a message, see if they’re alright.”

“Right, okay.” Grian chews his lip, wings ruffling. “And all the other fellas are gone?”

Etho nods. “Yep.”

“Okay-”

“G,” Scar cuts in, tugging on Grian’s sleeve, “you gotta respawn before that injury sets in.”

Grian shrugs him off. Only now does Jimmy realize he’s holding one of his wings closer to his body than the others, the one that took an arrow during the fight. “Gimme a second-”

”Um, guys?” Martyn says suddenly, pointing at the ranch. “Fire tick is on, yeah?”

Grian looks up at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Hoo boy. Yeah, we need’ta get a ditch around the ranch, okay, or else the whole forest’ll go.” He casts a sidelong look at Jimmy, expression apologetic. “Tim, do you mind…?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “No,” he says hoarsely, “no, no, by all means. Whatever you need to… oh gosh, it’s all gonna go. It’s gone, isn’t it? It’s-” His voice breaks, and he quickly looks away, fresh tears welling in his eyes.

It wasn’t much, the ranch.

Only two floors- three counting the basement- and a bit tight on space. It wasn’t the most impressive build, not by a long shot. Certainly not when compared to the other builds on this world. It was something that would’ve taken two actually competent builders nothing more than a dedicated afternoon to put together. Plainly decorated, and comprised mostly of wood and stone variants. Nothing that’s particularly hard to obtain. And in all honesty, it was just a starter base; they were going to outgrow it sooner or later, anyways.

But it was theirs. 

It was the scorch marks in the wood from Tango’s blaze rods, in the moments where his emotions got away from him. It was the rocking chair where Jimmy liked to do his embroidery, when he needed to unwind after a busy day. It was the auto-sorting storage room that Tango spent weeks fine-tuning. It was the small but cozy living room that Jimmy decorated with potted flowers. It was the kitchen that always smelled faintly of charcoal, and the wool rug in the foyer that came from their own sheep, and the bedroom that they shared with an east-facing window to let them watch the sunrise together, on the rare days when Tango was awake early enough to see it.

The ranch is burning, and there’s nothing Jimmy can do about it.

(Great. Gonna start crying again, are you?)

(What exactly is that going to accomplish?)

(Man up! Don’t be so pathetic.)

A gentle hand on Jimmy’s shoulder makes him look up. Martyn is there, sympathy glimmering in his eye. “We’ll save what we can,” he promises.

Jimmy manages a grateful smile, blinking away his tears. “Thanks.”

Martyn nods before straightening back up. “Etho, Joel, you got water buckets on ya?”

“Oh, yeah.” Etho puts his communicator away as he and Joel start toward the ranch, buckets in hand. “Yeah, here, let’s make an infinite source..”

“Right. I’ll get the ditch started, then,” Cleo chimes in, rising to their feet now that both legs are once again intact.

Grian makes an appreciative noise, still tapping away at his communicator. “Okay, so that’s done-”

“Grian,” Scar says again, more insistently. “You gotta-”

“Hang on!” Grian huffs. He looks up to meet Jimmy’s gaze. “Okay, so uh, I can’t ban them… but what I’m gonna do is lock the world down,” he explains, taking a few steps over. “No one goes in or out… not even through a backdoor portal. This is just a temporary solution, but it should do the trick for now.”

Relief washes over Jimmy. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

(Good thing Grian is here to clean up your mess, huh?)

“Hey, guys?” Impulse speaks up, making Jimmy startle. “Um, Tango… he’s not lookin’ so good.”

That’s putting it kindly. Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Right. We should prob’ly get him inside, um…” He trails off as he instinctively looks at the ranch, which is on fire.

Right.

Impulse gives him a comforting look. “C’mon, you guys can crash at our place.” He rises to his feet, calling out, “Bdubs, would you bring the horses over?”

“Yeah, gimme a sec,” Bdubs shouts back. He’s finally gotten his horse standing again, glancing around for Impulse’s. “C’mere, stupid- hey! No, don’t wander off…”

“You finished, Grian?” Scar asks impatiently, notching an arrow.

“Okay, okay, hang on…” Grian presses a couple more buttons before putting his communicator away. “There, it’s done. Now, I’m gonna do some diggin’ and see what I can find out about this. But, um…” His gaze sweeps over Tango, expression pinched. “As soon as Tango is up for it… we all need to have a serious chat, okay?”

The wording immediately puts Jimmy off. He can feel his feathers bristling, his wings flaring out almost unconsciously to block Tango from view. “Wh- hey, this wasn’t his fault!” he protests.

Grian holds his hands up. “Ey, I know, I know,” he says lightly. His lower wings sweep out and flatten into a sort of fan as he crouches; an appeasing gesture. “None of us think that, okay? But clearly those guys came here for him, so we need’ta figure out why and how if we’re gonna figure out how to stop it from happenin’ again. Alright?”

Jimmy takes a breath, letting his feathers smooth over again. “Right. You’re right, sorry,” he mumbles.

(Wow, so defensive.)

(Like you could protect him, anyways.)

(Have you no faith in your own friends?)

Grian glances at Impulse. “You got them, Impulse?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Impulse assures him.

Scar draws back his bow. “Any day now, Grian…”

“Okay.” Grian turns around with an exasperated sigh. “Alright, Scar-”

He disappears in a puff of respawn smoke. Scar immediately follows him, his bow clattering to the ground amidst the shower of other items.

Impulse exhales in what might’ve been a laugh, if he didn’t sound so tired. He turns to Jimmy. “Can you stand?” he asks, holding out his hand.

(Look, they all think you’re weak, too!)

Jimmy feels himself flush. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, his tone short. Ignoring Impulse’s hand, he struggles to his feet unaided, wings flapping about to help keep his balance.

And then he feels incredibly silly about it. These are his friends, for goodness sakes.

“Thanks,” Jimmy adds, to soften it. “But Tango, I dunno if he… I mean, normally I’d carry him, but right now, I think- I think I’d drop him,” he confesses. Already, the effort of just standing on his own is starting to fatigue him.

Impulse just nods, a knowing look in his eye. “Yeah, no problem.” Slowly, he crouches down next to Tango again. “Hey, Tango, buddy?” he calls softly. “Can you hear me? It’s Impulse. I’m gonna pick you up now, if that’s okay?”

Tango doesn’t respond. Carefully, Impulse gathers Tango into his arms in a cradle hold- which Tango doesn’t react to besides curling in on himself a little more. His breathing quickens for a few seconds before he settles down again.

“Sorry,” Impulse whispers.

Jimmy swallows. He’s never known Tango to be so quiet, so still. It’s incredibly disturbing to see. And gosh, he knows Tango’s pale, but right now he looks about as white as quartz.

The events of this afternoon were a lot for anyone to handle. Jimmy’s still only working with bits and pieces, of course. He knows that Tango originally came from a terrible world called Hels, escaped from that creepy scientist guy Dr. Atlas, and has been hiding out on Hermitcraft ever since. So it’s not surprising that Tango got a nasty shock when his past suddenly came knocking at his door- literally, in Bravo’s case.

But Jimmy also knows that Tango is quite tough. He’s not the type to shut down in the face of hardship- in fact, he’ll often go the opposite direction, with manic bursts of frantic energy. So for a reaction this extreme… either that collar they put on him is having a more drastic effect than Jimmy realized, or there’s something more to the story he isn’t aware of.

Before the collar dampened their soul bond, the fear Jimmy felt from Tango had been damn near overwhelming. What could those Hels players have done to him to elicit such a strong reaction? Jimmy dreads to think of it.

The sound of hoofbeats pulls Jimmy out of his musings.

“Here I am!” Bdubs announces loudly, leading a horse by each hand. “Got the hawsies all ready t’go- oh, hey, waugh- what happened to him?” he gasps, his horrified gaze falling on Tango, wide eyes going even wider. “Wha’ th- is he okay?!”

Impulse gives him a tired smile. “Bdubs, I know we’re outside right now, but indoor voice, please? I’ll explain later.”

“Oh, okay!” Bdubs immediately drops into a stage whisper, ducking his head sheepishly. “Right, right, right, right, right, sorry.” He eyes Tango nervously for another moment. “Jeeze, they really… okay, okay, okay, right. Let’s go.”

With an appreciative look, Impulse moves beside one of the horses. Shifting his hold on Tango, he hikes one foot up into the stirrup and swings onto the horse’s back, forked tail lashing through the air.

Bdubs follows suit, climbing onto his own horse before glancing down at Jimmy. “Uh- you wanna ride wi’ me, Jimmy?” he asks, still whispering.

“That’d be great, thanks,” Jimmy says gratefully. Just the thought of walking or flying to their base makes him feel like all his bones have turned to slime.

His own attempt to get on the horse doesn’t go anywhere near as smoothly. With someone else already in the saddle, it’s a clumsy maneuver, his flailing wings more of a hindrance than anything. In the end, Bdubs grabs the back of Jimmy’s shirt and helps haul him up. That only makes Jimmy feel worse. Bdubs is so much smaller than him, how did he manage that?

“Okay…” Bdubs glances over his shoulder as Jimmy gets settled. “You alright back there?”

“Yep, yep, I’m good,” Jimmy says quickly. He clears his throat. “Can we- can we get goin’?” He’s anxious to leave this depressing scene behind and get Tango someplace calmer.

Bdubs nods. “Okay. Uh- hang on tight, and you’d better keep those wings folded or else you- you’ll be blown right off’a this thing!” He turns to Impulse. “We go now!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Impulse urges his horse forward, and Bdubs swiftly follows.

The horses gallop away from the ranch.

Jimmy does as he’s told, leaning forward to put his arms around Bdubs’s shoulders and tucking his wings tightly against his back. The jostling of the horse’s stride isn’t kind to his aching muscles and bones, but he’s not about to complain. Right now he feels completely out of sorts- like a stranger in his own skin.

As exhausted as his body is, his mind is absolutely racing. He can’t stop thinking about what Bravo said, that Tango was to blame for his being in Hels. And Tango hadn’t really denied it.

From what Jimmy can recall from today’s chaotic events, Tango used to be in Hels, and then a portal appeared. He went through it to Hermitcraft, and somehow, that got Bravo sent to Hels. That seems to be the conclusion they’ve come to. And Tango didn’t know about it at first, but he’s known about it for a couple years at this point, and said nothing.

(How selfish of him.)

But it wasn’t Tango’s fault! He didn’t intentionally send Bravo there, and he only kept his knowledge secret because he was afraid he’d get sent back himself if he revealed the truth. That’s… really upsetting. If Tango didn’t trust the Hermits enough to tell them, after spending nearly a decade getting to know them, it’s no wonder he didn’t tell Jimmy.

Has Tango spent this whole time feeling like a fugitive in his own home?

And what is Hels, really? What kind of world doesn’t allow portal travel in and out? The way they’d spoken about it, it almost seemed like a prison. But created by who? And why?

What exactly is a Hels player? What does a ‘doppelgänger’ entail, exactly? Because if Tango is supposed to be an evil version of Bravo, Jimmy is clearly missing something, ‘cause he doesn’t buy that for a second.

Do all players have a Hels counterpart? Does Jimmy? Oh, now there’s a disturbing thought. Is there another Jimmy running around in a prison world somewhere, locked away from the rest of the universe?

Now that he’s aware of the possibility, he isn’t sure this is something he can just forget about.

But he knows his questions will have to wait. Tango is hardly in the condition to be discussing any of this- getting him recovered from his shock is Jimmy’s first priority. He’s about to ask how far away they are when two figures appear in the distance.

It’s Scott and Pearl, on the way back from their respawns. Pearl is preoccupied, intensely scanning her communicator as she walks. But Scott spots them immediately, nudging Pearl with his elbow and lifting a hand to wave them over.

Impulse glances over his shoulder at Bdubs and Jimmy. “Guess we’d better go see what they want,” he says as he steers his horse towards the pair, Bdubs following suit.

Pearl looks up at their approach. Her respawn must’ve taken care of any injuries she sustained from the battle, because she seems like her usual red-eyed self. But there’s an unmistakable air of anxiety about her- one that Scott seems to share, based on his terse expression.

“Impulse!” Pearl shouts, as soon as she’s within proximity hearing range. “You seen Tilly ‘round?”

Impulse eases his horse to a stop. “Oh, uh- she’s the one with the dyed collar, right?” he asks, knitting his brows together. “Yeah, yeah I’m pretty sure she was back at the wheat field.” 

Pearl exhales heavily. “Oh, thank goodness. I- I lost so many dogs, I wasn’t sure…” She puts her communicator away, looking them up and down. “So uh, is everyone alright? Are… you guys alright?” she asks uncertainly, quirking a brow.

“We’re fine,” Impulse assures her easily. He jerks his head back in the direction they came from. “The others are dealing with the ranch right now, it’s uh… it’s a pretty big fire, I’m sure they’d appreciate some help.”

Pearl follows his gaze, eyes widening at the plume of smoke still visible above the trees. “Oh gosh, yeah, we’d better get goin’, then.”

“You alright, Timmy?” Scott speaks up suddenly. 

“Huh?” Jimmy startles at being addressed. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Mmm.” Scott doesn’t look convinced, his sharp eyes studying Jimmy’s face before flicking over to Tango. “Is Tango alright? Where’d tha’ thing on his neck come from?”

Jimmy’s heart jolts. “Um…” He isn’t sure how much he should be sharing with the others, while Tango’s incapacitated like this.

Luckily for him, Impulse cuts in. “Don’t worry,” he says gently, “we’ve got it covered. You guys go check in with the others, okay?”

It’s not a very subtle hint, but Scott allows it. “Alriiiight,” he drawls, holding his hands up. “Just remember you’ve got help if y’want it.”

“I appreciate it,” Impulse hums, but Jimmy catches the flash of relief in his eyes as he turns his horse away.

“Yeah, ‘preciate ya!” Bdubs echoes as they ride off.

They ride in silence for a few moments, until they’re out of proximity range, before Impulse clears his throat. “I just think Tango would appreciate some privacy right now,” he explains quietly. “You know everyone else- they’d all want to help and see if he’s okay, but a big group would probably freak him out.”

“Ah.” Jimmy nods. “Good thinkin’.”

(Gee, Impulse is really taking charge, huh?)

(You’re basically useless.)

(He would’ve been a way better soulmate for Tango than you.)

The thoughts make Jimmy flinch. He hasn’t often felt insecure in his relationship with Tango, despite having known him for a much shorter time than the Hermits. But right now, his general lack of knowledge and experience in how best to help Tango has become glaringly obvious.

Thankfully, before he can spend any more time feeling sorry for himself, Impulse and Bdubs’s house finally comes into view.

They’ve added another floor since Jimmy was last here. Floor-to-ceiling windows made of light gray panes curl around one side of the building, continuing with the sleek mid-century modern design. The front yard has received some landscaping as well; a wide, circular path that frames a small cluster of custom trees and shrubbery before leading to the dark oak door, framed by neat flower beds on either side.

As they come up on the house, Impulse and Bdubs turn their horses along a branch of path that veers off from the main circle, taking them towards a small structure built against the house’s side. Made only out of diorite wall posts and a flat, deepslate tiled roof, it creates sort of an overhang, divided into two compartments with warped stem fence posts. Its purpose quickly becomes obvious as Bdubs hops off his horse and pulls a lead from his inventory, leashing his horse to one of the posts.

Jimmy swings his leg around to slide off the horse, dropping onto the ground with an ungraceful grunt. In the stall beside them, Impulse has carefully dismounted from his own steed, still cradling Tango in his arms.

The longer Jimmy looks, the more his chest aches with longing. So he looks away.

“Alright, let’s get inside.” Impulse’s voice is soft. He turns back towards the front of the house. “This way.”

Bdubs finishes hitching the other horse to its post. “Right behind ya!” he chirps. He pats Jimmy on the arm as he passes- an encouraging, or perhaps comforting, gesture.

Either way, Jimmy appreciates it. He knows Bdubs tends to diffuse tense situations with humor, or by maintaining an energetic demeanor. It might be mistaken as inconsiderate, in some situations, but he seems to know where the line is. Genuinely, Jimmy thinks he’d feel worse if Bdubs was suddenly walking on eggshells around him.

Pity is a suitor that won’t take a hint, no matter how many times Jimmy turns it away.

He follows Impulse and Bdubs around the front of the house. Bdubs has already scrambled ahead to open the door for Impulse, whose arms are, of course, full of Tango. He ushers Jimmy in after them with a wide sweep of his arm.

They’ve moved their bedroom upstairs at some point, it seems. The main floor is now a dedicated living space with a modest kitchen in the back, overlooked by a loft from the second floor. An L-shaped lounge made of quartz stairs is built into the conversation pit occupying the center of the room, surrounding a small fireplace. The glass panes encasing it go all the way up to the ceiling, but the sight of fire makes Jimmy flinch anyways- which he immediately kicks himself for.

(Jeeze, man, get a grip! What if Tango saw that?)

If Impulse and Bdubs noticed, they don’t comment on it. Impulse silently leads the way up a spiral quartz slab staircase, which opens up into the loft. Bdubs’s interior work is clearly showing here, with cozy seating nestled beside a custom bookshelf-console unit. Straight ahead past the loft is a short hallway with a couple doors on either side.

Impulse stops at the first one on the right. “We got a spare room here,” he says, nodding his head at the door.

“Not finished yet!” Bdubs adds hastily, though still making an effort to keep his voice low. “Or uh, heugh- furnished. I’m gonna- I was gonna do the interior, I swear.”

Somehow, the fact that Bdubs is concerned Jimmy will judge his lackluster interior decoration- despite everything else going on right now- makes Jimmy crack a smile. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers, ey?” he jokes.

“Oh, very freaking funny!” Bdubs huffs, but he’s grinning, too. He opens the door for them, and Jimmy lets Impulse carry Tango inside before following.

The room is, as expected, fairly bare bones. Quartz walls and a dark oak floor carry over the mid-century modern theme from the exterior, but there’s no furniture other than a double-wide cyan bed against the wall. A couple of haphazardly-placed torches on the walls provide the room’s only lighting.

“No windows yet, either,” Bdubs mutters, clicking his tongue as his critical gaze sweeps over the room. “I need ta- I- I still gotta figure out how to place ‘em, with the exterior wall and stuff.”

“It’s alright,” Jimmy assures him. Windows would make him feel a bit too exposed right now, if he’s being honest.

Impulse carefully sets Tango down on the bed. “Okay, Tango, here we are.” He straightens up, running a hand through his hair as he exhales heavily.

Bdubs crosses quickly-but-quietly over to Impulse, wrapping him in a hug. “You okay, sweetie?” he asks softly.

Impulse smiles down at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry.”

“Okay.” Bdubs goes up on his toes to kiss Impulse’s cheek- and even so, he barely makes it. “I’m gonna go check on our boys, then, and see if the others need help with th- with the uh, the ranch. D’you- is there anything you want me to tell ‘em?”

“Yeah,” Impulse says thoughtfully, “maybe just let them know that we’d like to give Tango and Jimmy some privacy right now? We’ll let them know if we need anything, and we’ll chat more once everything’s calmed down.”

“Right, okay.” Bdubs glances at Jimmy. “That- is that good? For you?”

Jimmy is taken aback by the amount of consideration he’s being given. “Oh yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

“Alright.” Bdubs casts one final look at Tango, trying but failing to hide his worry from those big eyes of his. “Alright, I- I’ll be back in a little.” 

He slips out the door, leaving them alone.

Before an awkward silence can descend, Impulse clears his throat. “So uh, looks like someone got you pretty good,” he says, gesturing to his face.

“Huh?” Confused, Jimmy brings a hand to his face- only to jerk away as his fingers brush against his nose. Now that he’s actually paying attention, there’s a dull ache of pain radiating down the bridge of his nose, and underneath the still-sticky blood, he can feel a prominent bump where there wasn’t one before.

“Oh, right,” he murmurs. “Forgot about that.”

“Yeah, looks broken,” Impulse says sympathetically. “Need a respawn?”

Jimmy pauses. It’s difficult to tell when an injury will result in lasting damage- no one’s really cracked that particular scientific riddle yet. But generally, it’s understood that the sooner the respawn, the better the outcome. That’s why things like creeper explosions hardly ever leave a mark, since the death is usually instant.

More so, superficial wounds tend to be less likely to scar than deeper, more structural wounds. A simple gash will almost always go away after respawning- if it hasn’t already healed on its own- but things like broken bones can linger in the form of scars, joint deformities, and chronic pain. If he’s being smart, he really should get a quick respawn in, just to be sure.

But they’re on the Double Life world, and right now, his life isn’t just his own.

Jimmy looks Tango over. None of his wounds are serious enough to warrant a respawn, he only got a little scuffed up in the initial attack. In his current state, it’d probably do more harm than good.

“No,” Jimmy decides, “I… I can’t do that to him, not right now. He’s disoriented as it is.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Besides, I think it’s just the cartilage. Either it’ll heal on my next respawn, or it won’t, and it’ll just match the rest of my face.”

Impulse doesn’t laugh at the self-deprecating joke, simply offering a sad smile. “Alright. I’ll see if Martyn can bring some healing potions by once they finish up at the ranch, I’m pretty sure he’s got a brewing set-up.”

Jimmy’s throat tightens. “Right, thanks…” He smoothes a hand over the bed’s cover, setting his spawn anyways, before he eases himself onto the mattress. “Tango…?” he ventures. “Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

Tango has yet to move at all from where Impulse deposited him, back against the wall with his knees tucked to his chest, arms limp at his sides. He doesn’t acknowledge Jimmy at all- which isn’t anything malicious on his part, of course, but god does it hurt.

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy tries again. “Hey, Tango? It’s me, it’s Jimmy.” He puts a gentle hand on Tango’s shoulder, watching him all the while for any sign that he’ll startle or panic. “It’s over, you’re safe now. Are- are you hurt anywhere? Do you need anythin’?”

Still nothing. Somewhere behind Jimmy, Impulse makes a noncommittal noise. “Jimmy, buddy, I don’t think that’s gonna work right now…”

Jimmy ignores him. “Please, Tango,” he pleads, feeling his eyes sting, “can you just…” Idly, he lifts his other hand to wipe some of the blood off Tango’s chin. “Can you look at me?”

Unexpectedly, that gets Tango’s attention. He lifts his face almost robotically to look at Jimmy, eyes and expression still devastatingly blank.

The sudden movement startles Jimmy, his hand jerking back. And as it does, Tango lets his head drop back down.

An image flashes in Jimmy’s mind; Atlas, the doctor with the blood red gloves, grabbing Tango by the chin and tilting his head up.

(Oh, that’s messed up.)

(You’ve really done it, now.)

(Brilliant, just brilliant.)

Jimmy’s stomach turns. He scrambles back, away from Tango, his heart starting to pound. “Sorry,” he whispers, even though Tango gives no indication that he’s hearing it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

A hand lands on his shoulder, making him jump. Impulse gives him an understanding look. “I… think he just needs some time to come out of it,” he says quietly. “Y’know, alone. When he shuts down like this, there’s really nothing to do but wait.”

Jimmy finds his voice again. “Wait, you’ve seen it before?” he asks, creasing his brows together.

Impulse winces. “A couple times, yeah.”

“Oh.” Jimmy swallows, glancing back at Tango. “I dunno, I- I don’t wanna just leave him like this…”

“We can stay right outside,” Impulse says reassuringly, folding his arms. “It’s just… when he gets like this, I’m not sure he’s fully processing what’s going on. It’s like a defense mechanism. So he’s not gonna come out of it until he feels safe, and um… well…”

It’s not hard to catch his meaning. Jimmy bristles. “What, are you- are you sayin’ he doesn’t feel safe with me?” he snaps, which is so unfair because Impulse has been so helpful and so kind and he’s actually sort of right, but Jimmy can’t help it.

Impulse holds his gaze. “Not if he doesn’t recognize you.”

That sobers Jimmy a little, his wings sagging. “Oh. Oh, yeah, good point. You’re right.” Ducking his head, he swings his legs off the side of the bed and rises to his feet. “I guess he’ll be okay in here,” he relents. “But um, can we- would you mind if we put out the lights? It’s just…”

“Tango feels safer in the dark,” Impulse finishes, realization dawning in his eyes. “Good call.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy fidgets with his hands as Impulse collects the torches.

(Wow, he really knows Tango, huh?)

(Thank god someone knows what to do.)

(What exactly are you even here for?)

With the room now sufficiently darkened, Impulse holds the door open for Jimmy. Jimmy gives Tango a final look-over, his blank face now lit by the dim glow of his dampened blaze rods.

“We’ll be right outside if you need us, Tango,” Jimmy says in parting.

Tango remains silent as Impulse closes the door behind them.

As soon as they’re back in the hallway, all of Jimmy’s fatigue seems to hit him at once. He sways where he stands, shoulder bumping against the wall- the dull pain is easily ignored in favor of the black spots dancing across his vision. He squeezes his eyes shut, biting back a groan.

Fortunately, Impulse is there to steady him. “Woah, easy there.” He quickly guides Jimmy over to the loft to sit down. “Just breathe, okay?”

Jimmy takes a few slow, deep breaths- in through the nose, out through the mouth. When he opens his eyes again, the room is no longer spinning around him, so that’s a plus.

“Here,” Impulse presses something into Jimmy’s hand, “you must’ve worked up some hunger.”

It’s a golden carrot. “Thanks,” Jimmy murmurs, immediately starting to nibble on it. He probably does have food on him, somewhere in his inventory- cooked steak, most likely- but the extra saturation helps.

Seemingly satisfied that Jimmy isn’t going to pass out, Impulse sits down in the chair next to him. “How you feelin’?”

“Better, thanks,” Jimmy murmurs, shifting to fold his wings a bit more comfortably. He feels awkward and just… so out of place here. And Impulse is a nice guy, sure, but it’s a little embarrassing to have to be taken care of like a child. If it weren’t for Tango’s sake, he probably wouldn’t have accepted Impulse’s offer of help in the first place.

“Good.” Impulse looks him up and down, brows pinching together. “Jeeze, they really did a number on you. I’m sorry we weren’t there sooner, chat was chaos and we thought they’d be at spawn ‘til we saw your SOS.”

That comforts Jimmy a little. At least he managed to do something right. “It’s alright, not your fault,” he assures Impulse. “I mean, if you guys hadn’t come when you did…”

“Yeah.” Impulse nods solemnly. “That, uh… would’ve been pretty bad.”

Jimmy studies Impulse for a moment. Now that they have a second, there’s a question that’s been nagging at him. “So…” he starts, “how much did you hear, of what Bravo said?”

“Eh, bits and pieces.” Impulse shrugs. “Something about Tango being an evil doppelgänger from Hels.”

He says it so casually, like he’s talking about the weather. Jimmy’s stomach cinches. “Impulse…” he says carefully. “Did you… did you know?”

“What?” Impulse looks at him in surprise. “Oh, that Tango was from Hels? No. No, I never knew anything about before he came to Hermitcraft. But you know, I always kinda knew there was something… not great in his past. I mean, there were signs. I just figured he’d come from an anarchy server or something.” He knits his brows together. “I guess you… never saw what he was like, when he was still new, huh?”

Jimmy frowns. “Wha’d’you mean?”

Impulse makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s not my place to get into all that. But let’s just say… he’s come a long way since then. So um, looking back, it kinda makes sense.”

“So then…” Jimmy hesitates. “D’you believe what Bravo was saying? About what Hels are like?”

Impulse actually laughs- though not unkindly. “Oh, no, not by a long shot,” he assures Jimmy. “Don’t worry about that. I mean, there are players who think non-humans are bad, right? Like, there are still public servers out there that’ll ban Cleo soon as she joins, just for being a zombie.” He shrugs a shoulder, his forked tail idly flicking through the air. “Or me, for being a demon.”

“Oh.” Jimmy blinks, feeling stupid. “Right. It’s… so easy to forget, sometimes, that some folks still feel that way.”

Impulse tilts his head. “Well, not when you have to live it,” he says lightly.

“Oh. Oh!” Jimmy smacks his forehead. “No, no, right, of course,” he adds hastily, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it’s easy for you specifically to forget. Just, in general, I guess. ‘Cause most players don’t have that problem with avians- I mean, sometimes they think some of our traits are weird, sure, but uh- but it’s not the same thing, cause we aren’t hostile mob hybrids. Obviously. And- and none of my friends feel that way, either, so I just…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m not makin’ a lotta sense.”

Impulse gives him a gracious smile. “It’s okay, I know what you mean.” He leans back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. “I’ve gotten so used to Hermitcraft, sometimes it catches me by surprise when I travel to public servers and people act scared, or… distrustful of me. And that’s without even seeing me in ‘full demon’ mode. So uh, even though I don’t know anything about this Hels world, I don’t believe that just being from there would automatically make someone evil. I know Tango better than that.”

Jimmy’s throat tightens. “Right…”

Now it’s Impulse’s turn to give him a sideways look. “... you don’t believe what Bravo said, do you?” he asks, voice low.

“What?” Jimmy blanches. Despite himself, he feels his wings puff up with indignation. “Gosh no, no, that’s- not in a million years, mate, it’s utter nonsense!”

“Alright, alright, sorry,” Impulse chuckles, holding his hands up. “I didn’t think you would. But you know, I just had to make sure.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy sighs, letting his feathers smooth down again. “You’re a good friend, Impulse,” he says, glancing away. “Seems like you know what to do, here. He’s gonna need that.”

“He’s gonna need you.” 

That makes Jimmy look up. “What?” 

Impulse’s expression softens. “I’ve known Tango a while, now, and even though there’s been plenty of fun and good times over the years… this is the first time I’ve seen him truly content. Like, he just seems at peace in a way I’ve never seen before. You do more for him than you’ll ever know- probably ‘cause he’s too scared to tell you.” There’s a knowing glint in his golden eyes. “Emotional vulnerability, uh, isn’t exactly his strong suit.”

A bittersweet smile tugs at Jimmy’s mouth. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Impulse claps him on the shoulder. “We’re gonna figure it out, okay? You guys aren’t alone in this.”

Warmth blooms in Jimmy’s chest. “Thank you, Impulse,” he says softly, “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Impulse returns his smile before sitting back in his chair. “Now, how about you get some rest?”

Jimmy’s heart jolts. “Wh- no, wait,” he protests, “I’m not gonna leave-”

“You can stay right here!” Impulse assures him easily. “Just close your eyes and rest a bit. I’ll keep an eye out, and wake you up as soon as Tango comes to, okay? But right now, frankly, you look exhausted. And I’m sure you’ll wanna be well-rested for whenever Tango’s ready to talk about stuff.”

“Ah…” Chewing his lip, Jimmy glances over at the door to the spare room- mere steps away.

Since he forewent a respawn, he has to admit some shut-eye would be quite welcome at the moment. The immediate danger has passed. And right now, there’s nothing he can do to help Tango but give him some time. Might as well spend that time resting.

“I… suppose you’re right,” he relents finally. “But you gotta promise you’ll wake me if anythin’ happens, alright?”

Impulse nods. “I promise.”

“Right, then.” Jimmy settles into his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He fights back a yawn. “Thanks again. I- I mean it though… any little thing…”

“I know, I know.” Impulse waves him off. “Don’t worry.”

“Famous last words,” Jimmy quips, closing his eyes.

Impulse huffs a laugh but says nothing else.

Silence settles over the room, filled only by Impulse’s steady breathing and the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of him typing away on his communicator. He’s probably updating the others on the situation, so Jimmy can rest easy. He’s considerate like that.

Jimmy would’ve thought it’d be hard to fall asleep. This chair isn’t exactly built for it, and as lovely as Impulse and Bdubs’s home is, it’s not the ranch.

The loss is still fresh. He already knows it’s gonna hit him even harder in the coming days. But for right now, the post-adrenaline exhaustion is finally sinking in, and before he knows it, he’s drifted off into the inky blackness.

~*~

A gentle hand on Jimmy’s shoulder startles him awake.

“Jimmy,” Impulse whispers, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness, “wake up.”

It must’ve been quite a deep, dreamless sleep, because while it seems to Jimmy that he only just closed his eyes, he can clearly see through the window that it’s been at least several hours. The sun has long since set; a half moon is rising in the night sky. That’s alright with Jimmy- he was afraid he’d have nightmares.

Rubbing his eyes, Jimmy squints at Impulse. “What’s goin’ on? Everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Impulse scratches the back of his head. “I uh, I just heard a thud in Tango’s room so I went to check on him and- he’s fine, don’t worry!” he adds quickly, as Jimmy bolts upright. “He’s fine, he’s up, but he still seems kinda disoriented? Like, he’s conscious, but when I tried to go in… I guess I look a bit too intimidating,” he taps one of the curved horns poking out from his hair, “‘cause he growled at me.”

“Growled?” Jimmy repeats, raising his eyebrows.

(Well, that’s promising.)

(Round two!)

(Here we go…)

“Yeah.” Impulse gives a sad smile. “So um, I think you should go try and talk to him, if you’re up for it.”

“Oh.” Jimmy blinks. “Oh, right, of course.” He rises to his feet, shaking off residual soreness from his awkward sleeping position.

Impulse pulls a lantern from his inventory and holds it out to Jimmy. “Give a shout if you need anything.”

Jimmy takes the lantern. “Right, thanks.” Steeling himself, he creeps over to the spare room, knocking lightly on the door- which is slightly ajar. “Tango…?” he calls softly, poking his head into the room. “You okay?”

The bed is empty, covers strewn in disarray. Tango is crouched in the corner farthest from the door, his back pressed against the wall. Hunched over and breathing hard, he stares at Jimmy, his blood-stained face lit by the faint glow of his blaze rods. His pupils are dilated again, lips curled back to show his teeth. There’s no recognition in his expression at all.

(You cannot sleep, there are monsters nearby.)

Jimmy swallows. His heart starts to pound. “Tango,” he starts tentatively, holding the lantern up so his face is clearly illuminated as he steps forward, “it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Tango makes a blaze noise deep in his throat; a haunting, hollow sort of growl. It’s unmistakably a warning.

Jimmy hesitates, wings shuffling uncertainly. How to get through to him? General reassurances don’t seem to be working. He needs to remind Tango of where he is, to convince him that he’s safe- in a way that only Jimmy would know.

He takes a breath. “Hey, rancher.”

Tango falls silent. Surprise flickers across his features, mouth parting, gaze sharpening. For a moment he just stares, motionless. Then he squints.

“... Jimmy?”

Oh, Jimmy could cry. “Yes, there we go!” he says encouragingly. “It’s me, it’s Jimmy. You okay, Tango?”

Tango’s breath hitches. He takes a single, careful step forward- then he halfs runs, half stumbles towards Jimmy.

Jimmy rushes to meet him, catching Tango before he falls. “Oh jeeze, okay…” Setting the lantern down on the bed, he lowers them to the floor, shifting so he can wrap Tango in his arms. “It’s alright, it’s alright…”

“Jimmy, thank god.” Tango clings to him just as tightly, face buried in Jimmy’s shirt. His claws dig into Jimmy’s skin just shy of being painful. “I- I woke up,” he gasps, “and the quartz- I thought I was…” He pulls away enough to scan Jimmy’s face, eyes wide and frightened. “Where are we? What- how long has it been?”

Jimmy knits his brows together. “Uh- we’re at Impulse and Bdubs’s place, and it’s been… several hours, I think? Half a day?”

“God.” A shudder runs through Tango. “That- that really happened, didn’t it?” He starts to breathe faster, his voice straining into that faint upper pitch that Jimmy’s come to associate with panic. “Oh god, I- I- I don’t- hhh, I c- can’t…”

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Jimmy soothes, rubbing circles on Tango’s back. “I’m here, you’re safe. It’s over. Just breathe.”

They stay like that for a while, Tango curled against Jimmy as he rides out the worst of it. He shakes violently, eyes squeezed shut, breath hitching as he tries to get control of it again. Jimmy’s heart aches for him- he wishes there was something more he could do to help.

But he knows from experience that just being here is enough.

It’s not terribly infrequent for Tango to have nightmares. Sometimes he simply startles awake at night, apologizes for waking Jimmy up, and goes back to sleep. If Jimmy asks about it the next morning, he brushes it off as nothing; just silly nonsense nightmares, the kind that are terrifying at the time but seem utterly ridiculous in the light of day. Nothing more than that.

And all this time, Jimmy believed him.

(What a fool.)

Jimmy’s only ever seen a couple nightmares cause a reaction as severe as this. The shaking, the shortness of breath, the panic. What helped in the past was simply holding Tango- offering a few reassurances, but mostly silent comfort. And of course, Tango never wanted to talk about those nightmares, and Jimmy didn’t want to push too hard. He’d figured that Tango would talk to him about it when he was ready.

(Fool me once, shame on you…)

Gradually, Tango calms down. His tremors cease, and his breathing starts to grow deeper. He’s still holding onto Jimmy, but it’s less desperate, now. More familiar. Jimmy curls his wings around them, as if providing another barrier, another layer of security.

After Tango’s been still and quiet for a few moments, Jimmy softly breaks the silence. “How much d’you remember?”

Tango takes a shaky breath. “All of it,” he whispers. “E- everything, I was- it was like I- I was watching everything happen to someone else, like I was outside my body…” He looks up to meet Jimmy’s gaze, eyes brimming with tears. “Jimmy, I- I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Jimmy frowns. “Tango, what on earth are you apologizing for?”

Abruptly, Tango pulls away. “I burned you,” he grits out.

“No, you-” Jimmy almost grabs him by the arm, but then thinks better of it. “That wasn’t your fault.”

Tango stares at him incredulously. “Wha’ th- what do you mean? Of course it was!” He rakes his claws through his hair. “I- I lost control, I set the ranch on fire, and you got burned.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Jimmy argues. “You didn’t do it on purpose, you were just defending yourself.”

“Doesn’t matter!” Tango throws his hands up. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten burned, true or false?”

(True!)

(He’s got a point…)

(Why are you arguing this?)

Jimmy doesn’t answer. “Look,” he says instead, “honestly, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine!”

“Well, you don’t look fine!” Tango says bluntly. Distress flashes across his face as he looks Jimmy up and down. “Your poor wings- and oh, your face! What, did- we didn’t respawn?”

Jimmy ducks his head. “I didn’t wanna put you through that,” he explains, wincing.

He can actually see the guilt in Tango’s eyes intensify. “Ohhh no,” he breathes, dismayed. “You- why did you…” Shaking his head, he fixes Jimmy with a firm look. “Okay, you- you need to respawn, now.”

“It’s not important,” Jimmy replies, just as stubbornly. He holds a hand out, beseeching. “Tango, please, I- I’ve been worried outta my mind about you. So much happened- ”

“I’m fine,” Tango says shortly.

“No, you’re not,” Jimmy insists, working hard not to raise his voice. “I mean, honestly, I- I don’t even know what that thing ‘round your neck is doin’!”

Tango shuts his mouth with a sharp click and glances away. 

That sobers Jimmy instantly. Tentatively, he scooches a bit closer to Tango. His eyes trace the collar- it’s so deceptively simple, so innocuous at first glance. Just a ring of smooth, flat iron. But clearly, there’s a lot more going on; a single red light above the keyhole hints at a mechanism hidden within.

“Do you… know what it is?” Jimmy ventures, giving Tango a searching look.

Tango’s jaw tightens. “It’s wither rose.”

Jimmy blinks, taken aback. “What? But… we aren’t withering, we aren’t takin’ damage-”

“It’s not…” Tango makes a noncommittal noise, waving a hand in an aborted gesture. “They’ve modified it, somehow, I dunno. It- it’s not the full effect. All it’s doin’ is dampening my fire.”

“And our soulbond,” Jimmy realizes, his stomach sinking. “After he put it on you, I- I couldn’t feel your emotions anymore. It’s just… numb.”

Tango’s face is grim. “That’s what wither rose does,” he says lowly.

The certainty in his voice is… somewhat concerning. Sure, any player who’s been ‘round the block will have learned what it feels like to be withered, at some point or another. But due to the tedious and somewhat risky nature of obtaining the roses by way of a wither farm, most players don’t regularly encounter them. And as far as aesthetics are concerned, they aren’t the most appealing flower, so when they are farmed, they’re mostly used for mass-producing black dye or as the killing method in a mob farm. Not as decor or landscaping, where a player might actually touch the rose and be subjected to the wither effect.

Personally, Jimmy can’t remember the last time he touched a wither rose, as a player who doesn’t make a habit of farming withers or even taking on the boss fight. But the tone of Tango’s voice right now is the tone of someone who is horribly familiar with the sensation.

“Tango…?” Jimmy prompts quietly. “Is there… somethin’ I should know?”

Tango swallows. He’s avoiding Jimmy’s eyes. “I… I don’t wanna talk about it,” he whispers hoarsely. “Not right now?”

It’s almost a plea, and Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Okay. That’s okay,” he says gently, forcing down his disappointment; this isn’t about him. He rises to his feet, holding out his hand to Tango. “Here, come on, let’s… let’s get up on the bed, alright? It’s late, you need some proper rest.”

Tango hesitates, though he accepts Jimmy’s offered hand to help him up. “You need to respawn…”

“It can wait,” Jimmy says easily. He tries for a grin. “Honestly, I- I already knew I wasn’t exactly easy on the eyes, but I didn’t think it was that bad…”

“No,” Tango says quickly, “no, you’re not-” He makes a frustrated noise. “Your wings.”

Jimmy softens. “They’re just feathers. They’ll grow back.”

Sure, it might take a while if his follicles have been badly damaged, and his wings won’t be a pretty sight once all the burned feathers fall out. But most of his flight feathers are still intact, so in terms of places to get burned, it could’ve been much worse.

Tango huffs a breath, clearly still upset with himself. But he doesn’t protest further as Jimmy eases onto the bed, gently pulling Tango with him. After collecting the lantern so the room is properly dark again, Jimmy nestles under the covers, sweeping a wing out to lightly gather Tango beside him.

Tango settles against him, and it’s then that Jimmy realizes he isn’t as warm as he used to be.

He’s not cold, not by any means. But Tango has always run a bit hotter than the average player- a blaze hybrid trait that Jimmy’s quite fond of. It was the whole reason they first shared a bed, back in the early days of the world, and inadvertently plunged their relationship into new, terrifying depths. If it wasn’t for that moment, they likely would’ve danced around the issue for far longer, and been robbed of many precious days of happiness together. So even on warm nights, Jimmy will still cuddle up beside Tango. Even if he has to kick all the blankets off.

But with the collar dampening Tango’s fire, he’s been robbed of that, as well.

Jimmy swallows the lump in his throat and puts an arm around Tango, who curls into his side, head resting on his shoulder. Having Tango so close is immediately comforting. God, to think of how close he came to losing this, to never holding Tango again… 

It’s scary. It’s incredibly scary. There are few things in the universe that can really, truly cause lasting harm to a player. Injuries can heal upon respawn, death isn’t permanent- except for worlds where it is, then they just respawn on a different world and start again. But if those Hels people had succeeded in taking Tango through that hacked portal, into some isolated prison world that Jimmy has no way of finding… he’s afraid that would’ve destroyed him.

Jimmy turns his head to press a kiss onto Tango’s forehead, right between the dimmed blaze rods hovering around his temples. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Tango whispers back.

The room grows silent. Jimmy stares up at the dark ceiling. His earlier tiredness has up and left him, his mind racing, plagued by thoughts of what might’ve been. It’s all he can do to reassure himself that it’s over, that Tango’s safe and still here with him.

That for once, he was lucky.

(For how long, though?)

He isn’t trying to stay awake. And he isn’t pretending to be asleep, either, just laying quietly with his thoughts. But at some point Tango must think he’s nodded off, because only then does he start to cry.

It’s a quiet sound. Just the sharp inhale and exhale of breath. Jimmy might not have even known he was crying if it wasn’t for the way his shoulders shake, and the sudden dampness seeping into Jimmy’s shirt. 

It takes all of Jimmy’s willpower not to console Tango, to hold him tighter and offer hushed reassurances. There’s a reason Tango waited until he thought Jimmy was asleep- he’s very much the kind of person who prefers to show emotion on his own terms. If he knew Jimmy was awake to witness this, he’d completely shut down again. And he needs this.

So Jimmy pushes down his own emotions and does nothing as his soulmate cries, trying not to move or start crying himself as the guilt for being so useless eats him alive.

(Sweet dreams…)

~*~

Morning comes, eventually.

At least, as far as Jimmy can tell by his internal clock. The room he wakes up to is still fairly dark- just a slim beam of light coming in from the hallway through the cracked door. Impulse must’ve done that to better keep an ear out for them overnight. Thoughtful guy. Tango is sleeping deeply next to Jimmy, and the sight is quite comforting.

It seems they’ve kept with their usual sleeping habits, even without a sunrise to greet them.

Carefully, without jostling Tango, Jimmy pulls up his inventory to grab his communicator. He can’t recall hearing it go off, but he wants to make sure there isn’t anything that urgently requires his attention. He’s surprised, however, to find a potion of healing; Impulse must’ve slipped it to him while he was sleeping.

A smile tugs at Jimmy’s lips. He’s long since regenerated his health, but the potion ought to help with his lingering injury. He downs the potion quickly, grimacing at the cloyingly sweet note of melon. It doesn’t take long for a cooling sensation to settle over his broken nose. When he gently probes at it, he can feel it’s still a little crooked, but at least the pain is gone.

Putting the empty bottle away, Jimmy digs out his communicator, squinting against the blue light. No one’s used chat lately or sent him any whispers- it seems they’re taking the request for privacy quite seriously. But there is the backlog from yesterday waiting for him. It takes him a minute just to scroll back to where it all began.

Bravo joined the game.

<Grian> ey??

AtlasSyn joined the game.

Tyrannicide joined the game.

Phantonym joined the game.

<Grian> EYY????

Helfyre_004 joined the game.

<PearlescentMoon> Ummm?

<Renthedog> What the heck??

CRIMETIME joined the game.

t3rr0r_b1te joined the game.

EbonyHelmentia joined the game.

baddomen666 joined the game.

<InTheLittleWood> WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!?

staluggmite joined the game.

PwrPlayz joined the game.

<PearlescentMoon> Hello??

XxSLAYERxX joined the game.

Vexed2theMax joined the game.

ApexGamer98 joined the game.

<Smajor1995> wait how is this happening

<PearlescentMoon> Raid?? D:

SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.

ne’er_do_hels joined the game.

<Grian> i don;t know??

Jaffu joined the game.

<Grian> theres no one at spawn???

<Etho> woah!

<SolidarityGaming> SOS RSNCH

<Smajor1995> oh no

<Renthedog> What??

<Smallishbeans> rsnch lol

<GoodTimeWithScar> G come pick me up

Tyrannicide was slain by Tango.

staluggmite was slain by Tango.

Phantonym was slain by Tango.

<InTheLittleWood> Wait WHAT?!?!?!?!?!

<Smallishbeans> NO WAY

<BdoubleO100> OHHHHHHH

<Grian> EVERYONE TO RANCH

<ZombieCleo> what is happening???

staluggmite joined the game.

Tyrannicide joined the game.

<Smajor1995> omw cleo

Phantonym joined the game.

<impulseSV> Etho, Joel, our place?

<Renthedog> BigB where you at??

<bigbst4tz2> coming

SheHelsSeaHels was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

EbonyHelmentia was shot by Smajor1995.

XxSLAYERxX was slain by impulseSV.

CRIMETIME was slain by Wolf.

t3rr0r_b1t3 was slain by Renthedog.

Jaffu was doomed to fall by ZombieCleo.

SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.

ne’er_do_hels was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

Tyrannicide was slain by Renthedog.

XxSLAYERxX joined the game.

EbonyHelmentia joined the game.

CRIMETIME joined the game.

Phantonym was slain by Etho.

t3rr0r_b1t3 joined the game.

ne’er_do_hels joined the game.

XxSLAYERxX was slain by Wolf.

Jaffu joined the game.

Helfyre_004 was slain by Renthedog.

Vexed2theMax was slain by bigbst4tz2.

Tyrannicide joined the game.

XxSLAYERxX joined the game.

Jaffu was slain by Renthedog.

SheHelsSeaHels was slain by Wolf.

bigbst4tz2 was shot by AtlasSyn.

Renthedog died.

Phantonym joined the game.

baddomen666 was slain by Wolf.

SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.

Jaffu joined the game.

PwrPlayz was slain by InTheLittleWood.

Helfyre_004 joined the game.

Vexed2theMax joined the game.

staluggmite was slain by Smallishbeans.

Helfyre_004 was shot by Smajor1995.

EbonyHelmentia was slain by Wolf.

PwrPlayz joined the game.

ApexGamer98 was slain by PearlescentMoon.

baddomen666 joined the game.

PwrPlayz was slain by Wolf.

Jaffu was slain by Wolf.

baddomen666 was shot by Smajor1995.

EbonyHelmentia joined the game.

Vexed2theMax was slain by InTheLittleWood.

PearlescentMoon was shot by AtlasSyn.

Smajor1995 died.

Helfyre_004 joined the game.

ApexGamer98 joined the game.

SheHelsSeaHels was slain by Wolf.

ne’er_do_hels was slain by Wolf.

baddomen666 joined the game.

Vexed2theMax joined the game.

Helfyre_004 was slain by Wolf.

baddomen666 was slain by impulseSV.

CRIMETIME was slain by Smallishbeans.

Phantonym was slain by Wolf.

Vexed2theMax was slain by Wolf.

t3rr0r_b1t3 was slain by Wolf.

ApexGamer98 was slain by BdoubleO100.

Tyrannicide was slain by Wolf.

EbonyHelmentia was slain by Wolf.

AtlasSyn left the game.

XxSLAYERxX was slain by Wolf.

Bravo was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]

GoodTimeWithScar died.

Jimmy doesn’t know how long he spends looking at chat, reading it over and over again as he tries to make sense of it. All those Hels players came here with the express purpose of kidnapping Tango. But why? Dr. Atlas had said something about ‘getting back to work’ and a farm design, but what does that even mean? 

Speaking of that doctor fella, he seems to have been the only one to get kills on the Double Lifers- the rest of them must’ve been preoccupied with Pearl’s wolves. Gosh, to think what her chat must look like…

But that’s something worth noting. Atlas didn’t waste his time with wolves, he went for Pearl and Bigb. He must’ve realized the wolves were Pearl’s and targeted her because of it. And the fact he went for Bigb instead of Ren, who was racking up the most kills... that means he was able to put together that they were soulbound, and he used that to get rid of the threat more easily.

Out of these Hels players, Atlas is clearly the one to watch out for.

Well, him and Bravo, of course. Though Bravo technically isn’t a Hels, if Jimmy’s understood it properly. But he’s certainly just as cruel and bloodthirsty as those other guys were, and he’s got it out for Tango the most. Jimmy can’t recall the last time he saw such hate in a player’s eyes, for any reason. And this is the guy claiming he should’ve been Jimmy’s soulmate? Unbelievable.

As if Jimmy would ever go for such a dense, hateful, entitled piece of-

“Honey,” Tango says suddenly, sitting up on his elbows, “you okay?”

Jimmy jolts in surprise; he must’ve been looking quite cross with his communicator. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he assures Tango softly, offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry if I woke you.”

It’s difficult to make out details in the scarce light from the hallway, but Tango looks much improved from yesterday. Even underneath the dried blood, the warmth has returned to his skin, replacing that sickly, pale pallor. His red eyes are sharp and alert- that’s a huge relief, as well.

“No, no, you’re good!” Tango says brightly. He leans over to press a kiss to Jimmy’s cheek. “Sleep alright?”

His tone throws Jimmy for a moment. Someone’s feeling better. Blinking, Jimmy puts his comm away. “I did, yeah,” he answers uncertainly. “You?”

“Yep!” Tango smiles at him; it seems a bit forced. “I uh- I’m all rest-ificated and ready to start the day. So, what I- well, I- I guess our first order of business, we should go take a look at the ranch, right, see what the damage is? Then we can do some resource gathering and start rebuilding, so we aren’t crashing at Impulse and Bdubs’s place forever.”

Jimmy pauses for a moment to process the words. “Umm… are you sure?” he asks tentatively. “I mean, we can go look at it if you want, but uh, are you- we should really focus on getting that collar off you first, don’t you think?”

Tango shrugs. He isn’t quite meeting Jimmy’s eyes. “Doesn’t bother me. Besides, we don’t have the key.”

Jimmy knits his brows together. “So what, we just... let it alone? Move on?”

Tango huffs a laugh- it sounds a bit faint. “Yeah, yeah exactly.” 

(What an abrupt change of character!)

(Lying again, it seems…)

(How suspicious.)

Okay, this is definitely strange behavior. Considering everything that happened yesterday, Jimmy would’ve expected Tango to still be physically and emotionally wrecked. But instead, he seems rather keen to just move on, like everything’s normal- 

Ah. Of course. Jimmy doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

“Tango...” he starts, “I don’t think-”

“Good morning!” Impulse hums as he pokes his head through the cracked door. “How we doin’, guys?”

Curse his timing. Tango, of course, immediately takes advantage of the distraction.

“Oh, hey Impy!” he says cheerfully. “Hey uh, sorry about earlier. You know, I uh, I was a little confused, and uh… you know...” He pulls a face; overdramatized. He’s trying to make light of it.

Impulse seems to share the same realization as Jimmy. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says easily, though he keeps his tone in a lower register- more serious. Not feeding into the fake energy. “No hard feelings. Here, I brought some food.”

Tango takes the offered food without even a second of hesitation; a stack of golden carrots. “Of course. Thank you, thank you.” He quickly starts crunching on one, conveniently busying himself so he doesn’t have to say anything else.

Oh well, at least he’s eating. Jimmy gives Impulse a tired smile. “Hey, Impulse. Thanks again for lettin’ us crash here.”

Impulse returns his smile. “Yeah, of course, no problem. So um, I’ve just got a bit of an update for you guys.” He sits down at the end of the bed, expression sobering. “The ranch situation is under control, they managed to get the fire out before it spread to anything else nearby. So your pastures, barns, and fields are safe. All your animals, too.”

It’s easy enough to pick up on what he’s left out. “But the ranch itself is gone, isn’t it?” Jimmy says quietly.

Impulse nods. “I’m sorry. Most of what’s left is just the stone. I think the basement is pretty intact, too, but everything else…”

“Yep.” Tango, finished with his carrot, shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, I figured. That’s what we get for building with wood, even though I’m super flammable and stuff.”

Jimmy gives him a sympathetic look. “It’ll be okay-”

“So,” Tango interrupts, avoiding Jimmy’s gaze as he gives Impulse an intent look, “uh- anything else?”

(Ouch! Testy…)

Impulse rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Grian wants to know if you guys are up for a chat. Nothing bad,” he adds quickly, “he’s just trying to figure out a solution and we’re just a little in the dark about everything. You can stick to the basics; if there’s something you aren’t comfortable telling us, that’s fine-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tango assures him. Despite his grin, there’s a hard edge to his voice. “Let’s do it. Call everyone up, we’ll have a nice chat at spawn or something. Let’s- let’s get goin’.”

Impulse pauses. “Well, if you want, we can have just Grian come over...”

Tango huffs. “No, why- let’s just get everyone on the same page, okay? Get it all over with at once.” He spreads his hands. “No point in delaying, or- or having to explain the same thing over and over again, right? I mean, everyone’s stuck here ‘til Grian lifts the lockdown, I- I’m sure they’ll wanna know why.”

Jimmy exchanges a look with Impulse. “I… I suppose,” he says hesitantly. “But are you sure you’re-”

“Yeah,” Tango says, “yeah, it’s fine.” 

Impulse purses his lips, clearly fighting not to let his frustration show. 

The sentiment is one that Jimmy shares. It’s obvious Tango is trying to downplay everything- and if that’s his way of coping, fine. But it really throws a wrench into the works when moving forward requires actually addressing what happened, and having an in-depth conversation about it. And this doesn’t bode well for long-term; they can’t just pretend everything’s normal, no matter how much Tango might wish it. 

“Okay, I’ll let him know.” Impulse rises to his feet. “The bathroom’s at the end of the hallway if you guys wanted to wash up.”

Tango actually makes a face at that, dropping the facade for a moment. He really doesn’t like water. “Wash up..?”

Impulse winces. “You’re um. Still covered in dried blood.”

(I was wondering when he’d realize that…)

Tango blinks. “Oh. Oh, right, of course.” Absently, he reaches a hand up to scratch at his chin. “I should probably wash that off, yeah. I mean, everyone knows I’m a vicious monster but I don’t have to look it, right?” he laughs.

Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Hey, Tango…”

“No,” Impulse protests, “that’s not-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tango says shortly. “Thanks, Impulse.”

“Alright.” Impulse lets the matter drop, turning to leave. “Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

As soon as Impulse is gone, Jimmy turns to Tango. “Hey, so-”

But Tango has already hopped out of bed and crossed to the door, calling, “Hang on, be right back!” over his shoulder.

Down the hall, Jimmy hears the bathroom door open and close. He sighs.

This is gonna be a fun conversation.

~*~

CONTINUED IN PART IX, ACT II

[simplysparrow14]

Pikelan is probably the most complex CR ship and more people need to realize that instead of branding it as the "haha funny gnomes" ship.

because the entirely of Pikelan revolves around Scanlan, a very charismatic bard who flirts with literally everyone around him but is head-over-heels in love with his cleric friend but is tragically dogshit at expressing it so he resorts to doing crude bits and gags that ultimatly mask who he truly is.

And then you have Pike, a cleric brimming with self-confidence, who absolutely loves Scanlan for who he is, but is constantly getting mixed signals, because on one hand, he's constantly doing crude jokes and flirting with every person he sets his sights on (even so far as going after his unknown daughter) but on another, he tenderly holds her while she's bleeding and he's constantly at her side during battle and even tends to her emaciated brother for her and it's beautiful to watch, but the moment, the moment she brings it up, he reverts back to his crass personality and it just leaves her reeling about who he truly is.

And then we get to Bards Lament, and Scanlan, after tip-toeing around his true emotions for so long, finally snaps and lets everything he's been feeling (all the pain, and self-loathing manifested as anger towards everyone else, because even in his darkest moment, he's still so dogshit at expressing it for what it truly is) and Pike, who's been wrestling with these mixed signals, finally gets his true feelings on what he feels, calling her magic weird, hating that the same magic that has kept him alive and safe for so long brought him back to his sad existence, hating her for doing it. In the end, Scanlan leaves, just as Pike left the first time and the second time. And Pike stays behind, watching as he heads towards somewhere where she cant follow, abandoning the team and her and grog and everything they've built for themselves. She loves him, and him leaving brings her to that point.

The two are split apart, and despite the anger and hurt, the need for connection with each other is so strong. Scanlan reveals that he dident fully leave Taldorei at first, that he was only 20 miles away in another town entirely, listening to Pike's earing conversations. And eventually, when Scanlan is on another continent, he finds a temple of the Everlight (or just simply begins talking to Everlight) and prays, prays for guidance on finding forgiveness for what he said and did. He's deeply in love with pike, and still is, going to her god for answers to his problems, the quickest connection to Pike that he has between one giant ocean and a continent.

And Pike, despite holding a very rightful disdain for what he said to her, keeps him up to date, informs him of her happenings with the people of Whitestone. She should fucking hate his guts and yet the person she wants to speak to at the end of her day is a bard who (for all she knows) threw his earing away and traveled to some far off place, forever gone from Vox Machina, from her. Yet she keeps speaking.

They switch roles, with Scanlan becoming the quiet solitary one seeking forgiveness for his actions and Pike becoming the people oriented one.

When they reunite, it's tense and sad and angry. So many things said in anger and hurt and they don't really know where to step in the case that something, anything might send them back to that angry, angry place. And suddenly their back at the same place they were before, before the fight.

Pike is, again, trying so hard to sift through the mixed signals he's giving because he's being Scanlan again! Charming bard, essential party member, more confident than he's ever been! but now he's standing near the back and holding his hands and apologizing with a soft voice that she hasn't heard in over a year and a half and rebuilding the bridges he's burned and she doesn't know what to think!

And Scanlan is giving an honest effort at trying to fix what he's broken. He's working harder than ever, he's apologizing. He tries very hard to have conversations with people and fixing what he can. But, again, he's Scanlan, who is less dogshit at expressing what he feels, but still pretty dogshit none the less, and now he's a crime boss and still a beloved bard, but he's also surrounded by the friends, some of them he loves so dearly and he's trying, he's trying so hard

Eventually, everything is forgiven and in the end, Pike and Scanlan come to term with themselves and each other. Pike comes to terms with knowing that Scanlan is a complex person, a broken person just trying to figure his way through this world, just as she had done.

in the end, Pike becomes the person Scanlan feels the most free to be around, one where he doesn't have to put on the mask of a performer, where he can just be Scanlan the gnome instead of Scanlan, bard extraordinaire. and Pike comes to terms with knowing that Scanlan is a complex person, a broken person just trying to figure his way through this world, just as she had done before.

and together, they are beautiful reflection of each other.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - epilogue

you know you never stood a chance series

epilogue: maybe light a candle

series masterlist | prev chapter 

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Joel hasn't come home yet. (this takes place about three years after the end of the main story.)

Warnings: established relationship, angst, christmas in the apocalypse, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2, mentions of breastfeeding (not as a fetish), found family, poor communication, oral (f receiving), postpartum depression, possibly violating child labor laws by using a baby as a plot device, pls remember I am playing fast and loose with both canon and the timelines lol

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Christmas Eve.

Or, at least, according to the council. You’re not sure if anyone is really sure what the date is anymore.

But for all intents and purposes, maybe it’s Christmas Eve. The holiday is a thin, moth-bitten version of its former self, but you’ve never been the holly-jolly or the religious sort, so Christmas Lite suits you just fine.

Maria had invited you and Lulu to the mess hall for a big meal and activities for the kids. It was less of an invitation than an expectation, but you stayed home anyway.

And maybe it wasn’t fair. Maybe she wanted you there for the same reason you didn’t want to be there. She’s fucking tough, maybe the strongest person you know, but she has to be feeling Tommy’s absence today, too. It isn’t Aléjandra’s first Christmas, but likely the first one she’ll remember, which is worse.

But it’s more than it just being Lulu’s first Christmas. It’s that Maria had made a point of telling you that Ellie would be there.

You prepare to watch her leave for the night. The light pours in the window when she opens the shed door, and you know she can see your shadow haunting the living room.

You want Ellie to meet her sister. You dream of it nearly every night. But there’s no way in hell you’re doing it without Joel. It’d break his heart. You like to think she knows, at least. Someone (probably Tommy) had to have told her.

So when she climbs the steps instead of walking past, you freeze. Her knuckles rap against the wood, and you close your eyes. You can’t. You need to, but you can’t.

“Maria asked me to remind you that you promised to come by tonight,” she calls through the door.

She knows you can hear her. She knows you choose not to respond (but she doesn’t know you bite your lip so hard to resist that it bleeds).

It would be wrong. But the ache is so strong you’re convinced it must be a physical wound.

She leaves.

“There goes Ellie,” you tell the baby, as you always do. “She’s got places to be, but she loves you very much.” The guilt of keeping them apart makes you nauseous.

Maybe it isn’t true yet, but you think it is. You think, despite everything, despite the anger she harbors for Joel (and a fragment of that for you), that she already loves her sister. Even if she’s only the shadow of a sister spied through dark windows and across the street.

You wonder if she knows her name. Tommy had started the whole “Lulu” thing, and though it had grown on you now, it made you suspect he hadn’t thought to mention she had a real, full name.

Luna Luann. Luna, for Ellie, and Luann for Joel’s favorite tía, the one who smuggled them chewing gum and taught Joel his strong right hook when the other kids were picking on Tommy.

You’d take this secret to the grave, but you hated the name Luann. But when he brought up the suggestion, he had talked about her for nearly twenty minutes, and so you love the woman despite her name, just for the way she brought a little more of Joel out.

You thought they’d be home by Christmas. You’re trying not to worry, but worrying’s one of the things you’re good at. It doesn’t help that you’re still struggling. You’ve been told it’s normal, but these last two weeks with Joel gone have been so hard.

She’s cutting a tooth (her very first), and you can barely catch a break. You sleep when she sleeps, but it’s never enough. A few neighbors have been bringing casseroles still, and it’s the only reason you’ve been eating.

So, you think it’s probably understandable that you crumble after you watch Ellie walk away and Luna starts to cry. The lights are out except for the single candle in the front window. You keep it lit all night in case Joel comes home. A beacon.

If you had a widow’s walk, you’d be haunting it. But you’re not a widow—couldn’t be, you’re not even a wife—and he’ll be fine. He’ll come back.

Joel always comes back.

It might be Christmas Eve, and you’re slumped against the wall of your living room, crying in tandem with your infant. There’s nothing wrong, you checked. It’s so much worse that she’s probably just picking up on your mood.

You orbit around each other that way. She is the sun that you and Joel revolve around, but his absence has sent you both off balance.

The sun might be the more accurate comparison, but you usually like to say Lulu, your Luna, was your moon, and Joel was the sun. He disagrees. He says he’s the rock, and you are her light.

It was profoundly beautiful, but none of the concepts held up to the reality. The truth was that you were a constellation, but without Ellie, you made no recognizable form. Sagitta with one feather, an arrow that can never fly true.

When you settle down to sniffles and the errant tear, Lulu has fallen asleep against your chest. You creep upstairs and lay her in the crib squeezed between the bed and the wall.

The room was plenty large, and part of it had been set up as a nursery. But after she was born, you spent each night on the floor next to the crib.

Joel hadn’t been having that. After the first week, he sat you down and asked if you’d be able to sleep in the bed if she was next to you.

And then he just… built a second, smaller crib. One that fits right up against your side of the mattress. It was low to the ground, so all you had to do was reach down, and you could feel her little chest rise and fall, or scoop her up to nurse her in the middle of the night. She’ll grow out of it fast, but by then, you hope you’ll feel secure enough to move her to the big one just across the room.

You had been embarrassed. Didn’t want anyone to know. After all, mothers had been putting their children to sleep in different rooms for ages. But you weren’t afraid to tell Joel, knew if there was anyone in this town that understood, it’d be him (and Maria).

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with keepin’ your baby close,” he said, as gruff and blunt as always.

When Joel comes home, he finds you that way. On your side, arm dangling into the crib with Lulu’s tiny fingers wrapped around your own. He sat down and gently tapped your shoulder, trying not to disturb the baby.

“What’re you doin’ here, darlin’?” he whispers when you stir. You blink up at him through sore eyes, then smile softly, sending his heart skittering.

“You’re home,” you say, extracting your finger and sitting up to reach for him.

He wraps you in his arms, lets you burrow into the nest of his broad shoulders. “M’sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, chasing the words with a kiss.

“Tommy okay?”

“Yeah, he’s good. Just hit some delays on the way home. Bridge was out. I thought y’all were going to the party?”

You don’t answer right away. You know he’ll feel bad. That he does feel bad, that the guilt eats a little part of him each day. All he wants is his girls all together.

“I was,” you mumble, feeling the tears prick with a vengeance. “But Maria said… Maria said that Ellie would be there.”

Joel’s arms squeeze you a little tighter for a moment. “Y’know I don’t want to get in the way of you talkin’ to her.”

“I know. But after last time… she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, anyway.”

“She’ll come around,” Joel says.

It reignites a new round of self-hatred, that he’s sitting here consoling you. After all, she had spoken to you after their fight. Sat down and told you she wasn’t mad at you, that she knew he probably didn’t even tell you.

And he hadn’t told you, hadn’t clued you in, trying in his foolhardy way to spare you the burden of the lie. And you were mad at him for it; you’d had your own spat after.

But you weren’t mad he did it. Not one bit.

He can tell you don’t want to keep talking about it, and that’s fine by him.

“You miss me, baby?” he murmurs, a teasing brush of his lips over your neck.

You roll your eyes. “Oh no, did you have to go two weeks without gettin’ laid?”

He chuckles, dark and raspy, as he reaches to cup your ass and squeeze, smirking when you gasp.

“And you’re tellin’ me those little fingers were enough for your greedy cunt? Like ya ain’t droolin’ for my cock right now?”

You whimper. He’s right. Two weeks is too fucking long for either of you.

He tugs you properly into his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, before he just stands up and carries you into the guest room across the hall. It’s not ideal, but if you leave both doors open, you’ll be able to hear Luna if she wakes.

“How’ve you not thrown your back out?” you grumble as he manhandles you.

He tosses you onto the bed, already peeling off his clothes and pointedly ignoring you.

He’s halfway through tugging his jeans down when he stops and looks at you. “What’re you doing? Let me see ya, sweetheart.”

You’ve long gotten over how easy you are for him. You only hadn’t stripped yet because you wanted to work him up. “You can see me just fine. Or do you need your glasses, old man?”

He takes the bait, shaking his head, before looming over you and running his hands down the sides of his old shirt you use for a nightgown. He barely grazes your breasts, just brushing the tips of your hardened nipples and grinning when you whine.

“Up,” he orders, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

You lift enough for him to pull it off and flop back down. It’s your turn to smirk as he watches the way your tits bounce with deep hunger.

And then he fucking rips the along the side of your panties and pulls them off, throwing them to the floor.

“Hey!”

“Shut up, you can sew ‘em back.”

“I’ve already sewn that pair twice, Joel. You’re a fuckin’ menace.”

“Is that so?” Suddenly his breath is hot against your cunt, and you clench around nothing.

“Uh-huh,” you moan as he runs one finger along the seam of your cunt. “‘Cause you’re a menace.”

“Only for you, darlin’.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Let me do a survey around town.”

He shuts you up by sliding two fingers right into your cunt, the stretch almost too much. Almost. But you don’t really notice because he buries his face between your lips, and any sassy remark comes out in a desperate cry.

He pulls away and gives you a warning look, head tilted. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, thick fingers clamping down and digging into your cheek. It makes you moan, but it also muffles it, so it works out fine.

“If you want your turn, you gotta be quiet. Otherwise, I’ll just have mine and shut you up proper.”

You choke down the moan dredged up by the thought of his cock down your throat and make the saddest pleading eyes you can muster.

He rolls his, shaking his head, before he goes back to your neglected clit.

You’re close, so close when you hear it. You pat Joel’s head, sitting up. “Was that the door?”

The shift is immediate. Three years in town has allowed Joel to relax somewhat, sometimes, but he slips back into it in an instant. He pulls back, brow furrowed, squinting like it’ll help him hear better.

It comes again, louder this time, insistent enough for him to pick up. A firm knocking.

There’s a pause, but Joel’s already on his feet, pulling his clothes back on. He tosses your shirt over as he ducks out of the doorway and you’re slipping it over your head when whoever is outside grows impatient.

Rapid, furious banging rattles the door, and you dart across the hall to shut the bedroom, but it’s too late.

Lulu starts wailing immediately, her little face scrunched up, nose wrinkling, and tears pouring out faster than a faucet. You scoop her up and soothe her, cradling her as she finds solace for her hurt feelings and empty stomach.

Joel goes downstairs, partly to shut up the racket but mostly because the sound fills him with dread. When he opens the door, it flings wide, and the tirade begins immediately.

Ellie storms in, already yelling. “—could you? What the fuck is wrong with you? You won’t even let her come out for fuckin’ Christmas because she might see me?”

You’re going down the stairs as soon as you hear her voice, but she stops yelling when she sees you on the landing.

“It’s not his fault,” you say, face hot with frustration and raw hurt. You hate the way your eyes water.

“Like hell, it isn’t. Maria said you were going to come, that one of you might actually have the balls to tell me you had a fuckin’ baby, and—”

“And I decided not to go, Ellie. Joel wasn’t even home. He didn’t know.”

Lulu has started to cry again, distracted from nursing by your ire. You murmur apologies, kissing the little tuft of dark hair on her head, and try to coax her back to your breast.

Ellie’s eyes are wide, and feet planted, ratty sneakers dripping filthy snow across the floor. Her mouth hangs open as she takes in the tiny, ruddy creature who finally agreed to return to her meal.

“Hey, Ellie. We had a fuckin’ baby,” Joel says after the silence hangs for a minute too long.

The bark of laughter that bursts out of her looks like it hurts, but she can’t fight it. The tension dissolves into absurdity and then tears.

Ellie sits on the ground instead of the perfectly nice sofa to her left. You come down the stairs and sit beside her.

You look up at Joel, and he nods. You wish he’d come sit, but he’s too afraid to break the peace. “Would you like to hold your sister?” you ask Ellie, keeping your voice low and steady.

“Can I? I mean… what if I break her?”

“She’s pretty tough.” Lulu is done eating, just suckling for comfort, so you pry her off your breast and tug your shirt back up.

Joel takes her without thinking, leaning her against his shoulder to help her work out the air.

Once she gives a satisfactory belch, he thrusts her at Ellie, who’s startled enough to take her without thinking about it.

You all hold very still. Except Lulu, who is blissfully unaware of the strife and coos up at her big sister. She bats a little hand at her face, smacking her nose in an attempt to grab on. Ellie laughs, and her smile, her perfect smile that you haven’t seen in a year, breaks out.

You can’t help it; you start crying. Ellie looks up in alarm, but Joel shakes his head, moving closer to rub your shoulder.

“It’s not you,” he says solemnly, “it’s just hard, after.” He gestures at the baby.

“It is you,” you say, and Joel scrubs a hand over his face with a soft groan. “It’s—I’m sorry, I just—”

Ellie’s looking like she might make a break for it. She tries to hand the baby back to Joel, who refuses.

You get ahold of yourself. “It’s not bad, Ellie. I’ve just been waiting for this since she was born.”

Ellie softens and then scowls. “Then you should have told me. You should have told me you were pregnant in the first place. I said you could talk to me.”

“No, I couldn’t,” and you pause as she shoots a dirty look at Joel. “No, not because of him. Because I would have done the same damn thing, so you may as well hate me too.”

“What?” She seems genuinely shocked, which you don’t have the patience for.

“I would do the same damn thing. If I had been there, there would have been nothin’ in the fuckin’ world keeping me from getting to you, Ellie. Nothing short of death. Not then, not now. I’d do it for her, too.”

The room is stifling, and Joel hasn’t even lit the hearth yet. Your breath comes out in little puffs, and every one of you has wet, devastated eyes. Even Lulu, who looks like she might be the first to break into tears.

Ellie looks down and sighs. “So, Lulu, huh?”

“Actually,” Joel says, and chances a step closer, squatting down. “It’s Luna. Luna Luann. Tommy’s just an idiot.”

Ellie’s a smart kid. You can see the moment it clicks—the way she looks up at Joel with something akin to hope. It fades quickly, but you know he saw it, too. His own staggering heart, heavy with love unspoken, is betrayed in the way he has to fight a smile, choke down the relief. Maybe, just maybe.

Maybe next year, you’ll get a tree.

thank you all so, so much.

*title from "Alone This Holiday" by The Used

[aspoonofsugar]

Charlie and Vaggie: Anima and Animus

There's something that I've been dying to say More than anything, more than anything Need you to know I love you more than anything More than anything

Charlie and Vaggie have intertwined and complementary arcs, which are beautifully explored through the jungian archetypes of anima and animus.

WHAT ARE ANIMA AND ANIMUS?

According to Carl Jung, the anima and animus are parts of the human mind. In particular, the anima is the feminine and the animus is the masculine. Everyone has naturally both, but society promotes specific gender values and drives people to repress traits culturally associated with the opposite gender. So, to fully be complete, a person should integrate the negated part. In stories, this usually happens through a meaningful romantic relationship.

Charlie and Vaggie are two women, but they still exhibit opposite gender traits:

Charlie is a princess, who sings her heart out at every chance. She is focused on words, ideals, feelings and she strongly believes in love. All traditionally feminine traits.

Vaggie is a soldier, who shows pride in her fighting abilities. She is focused on actions, pragmatism, battles and she strongly believes in strength. All traditionally masculine traits.

And yet, things are not so simple. Let's consider Charlie and Vaggie's designs for example:

Charlie usually wears masculine clothes, as she prefers androgynus suits. Not only that, but her name means "free man" and she goes with the gender neutral "Charlie", rather than her given name "Charlotte":

Valentino: YEAH! That BITCH Chuckie or Chandler, or I dunno- Something mannish like that.

Vaggie usually wears feminine clothes, as she sports a short skirt and loose long hair. Even her name is linked to femininity, as it literally means "vagina":

Angel Dust: You're doing great, Vagina.

Even when it comes to Chaggie's The Nightmare Before Christmas's allusion...

Charlie references Jack Skellington, as she is the Princess of Hell and a passionate dreamer

Vaggie references Sally, as she is a run-away and Charlie's level-headed helper

So, Charlie seems superficially more feminine and Vaggie appears more masculine, but their looks and inspirations suggest otherwise. Why?

In truth, even if Charlie is a singing disney-like princess and Vaggie is a badass super-soldier, they don't perfectly fit the typical anima and animus characterization. This is true for their appearances and on a deeper level. Specifically:

Charlie is linked to the anima (feminine), but she is active (masculine) and stronger than Vaggie. Finally, even if she is passionate about feelings, she is often insensitive. For example, she doesn't notice her loved ones' struggles, like Angel's pain and Vaggie's insecurities.

Vaggie is linked to the animus (masculine), but she is reactive (feminine) and very sensitive deep down. Moreover, she is weaker than Charlie in terms of raw power, so her obsession with protecting the princess is misplaced.

Charlie is an anima character with a strong repressed animus and Vaggie is an animus character with a strong repressed anima. They have to integrate with each other to become whole. Still, what should they learn from their partner?

LOVE AND HATE

Charlie and Vaggie have the same problem declined in opposite ways:

Husk: Princess, is a bleeding heart who wants to solve everybody else's problems 'cept her own.

Husk about Vaggie: This one judges everyone and everything because she hates herself.

Charlie wants to fix everyone in an unconscious attempt to fix herself. She loves everyone because she herself wants to be loved.

Vaggie is cold and closed off out of guilt and self-hate. She is suspicious of everyone because she can't really forgive herself.

Both girls have low self-esteem, but Charlie tries to compensate with love, whereas Vaggie tries to defend with hate. These different coping mechanisms stem from their upbringings.

Charlie is the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith, who love her deeply, but are also distant and neglectful. As a result, she admires them, but feels unworthy of their attentions and legacy:

Lute: The only reason you're still here is because daddy gave you and your hellborn kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel, to know how little you matter?

She is stuck being the lovable, but useless princess.

Vaggie is brought up in Adam's army, which is an abusive environment, where hate is seen as strength. Vaggie has a place in the world because she kills and is good at it:

Adam: You were on the front lines, I wouldn't forget a bad bitch like you. It's why I named you after the best thing ever. Vaggie. Anyway, you sure fucked up, didn't you?

She is stuck being the ruthless and remorseless soldier.

The path ahead for both girls lies in discovering they are more than just the princess and the soldier. In particular:

Charlie must accept she herself is capable of feeling negative emotions, like pain and anger. She can be aggressive and this doesn't make her mean. It makes her healthy.

Vaggie: Well, I mean… You're the princess of Hell. You don't really use the power that comes with that, which I love about you, but maybe you can… I don't know, command a little more… Authority? Charlie: But that's so mean. Vaggie: It's not mean, exactly. It's… uh, aggressive kindness.

Vaggie must learn to open up to others. She must show vulnerability and express her positive feelings more. She has a merciful and sensitive side, which doesn't make her weak. It makes her strong.

Chaggie have the potential to help each other bloom. Vaggie is the first person to tell Charlie she should be more self-assured in her role of Princess of Hell. Charlie is the first person, who takes care of Vaggie as she is hurt and unable to defend herself. Charlie can teach Vaggie to embrace her inner maiden (love, mercy). Vaggie can show Charlie how to be a real warrior (aggressivity, strength). At the same time, their opposite mentalities lead to some problems in their relationship.

TRUST FALLS (APART)

Charlie: I trust everyone, so maybe you know better on how to build it properly!

Angel Dust to Vaggie: To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?

Charlie trusts everyone, whereas Vaggie trusts no-one. So, none of them really knows how to trust properly. This becomes obvious in the episode Scramble Eggs, where:

Charlie trusts Vaggie so much she doesn't realize she is putting a lot of pressure on her partner:

Charlie: Oh, come on. It'll be easy! I'm sure you can handle this. Vaggie: Yeah, um, Sure, I can handle this. No problem.

Vaggie trusts Charlie so little she isn't able to confide nor lean on her partner:

Charlie: It's no big deal, Vaggie. You know, maybe I can just help, uh- Vaggie: No. I told you you could trust me, and I'm not going to let you down.

Charlie acts like the damsel and lets Vaggie handle the whole situation. Vaggie plays the knight and refuses to share the burden with Charlie:

So I, I'll be your armor Do whatever it takes, I'll make the mistakes I'll spend my life being your partner

The song Whatever It Takes plays the princess/knight motif straight. Vaggie sees herself as worthy of Charlie only if she can be her knight in shining armor. This may seem sweet, but there is something to be said about Vaggie echoing Carmilla, a mother who is singing to her daughters:

So I, I'll be your keeper Do whatever it takes, I'll make the mistakes I'll keep you safe and keep this secret

It makes sense for a parent to shoulder the burden for their kids' sake. However, a person wanting to do the same for their lover is unhealthy. Especially, when the secret of a balanced relationship is established early on:

Charlie: From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith, equals as the first of Mankind.

The two partners must be equals, but Vaggie sees herself as inferior to Charlie and tries to over-compensate. In this way, though, she takes away Charlie's agency. Charlie instead knows something is off deep down. However, she does not address the matter because she would need to go deeper into herself, her feelings and her relationships. And Charlie wants to avoid it at all costs.

Chaggie's communication issues are conveyed meta-narratively in Charlie and Vaggie's individual songs:

-Charlie's Happy Day in Hell has our princess sing so loud that she almost covers Vaggie's warning:

Charlie: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed That any soul can change! Vaggie: Those angels' minds are hard to change Charlie: Then they will know everyone can be redeemed From the evil to the strange! Vaggie: They're bloodthirsty and deranged!

She doesn't listen to Vaggie.

-Vaggie's Whatever It Takes is sung by our knight to her princess, but Vaggie has Charlie leave before the beginning:

Charlie: Vaggie, don't say that! You do so much! It's- Vaggie: I'm sorry. I'd… I'd like to be alone for a minute.

She doesn't talk to Charlie.

Eventually the couple's trust exercise is solved positively:

Charlie: No, no, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put pressure on you. We work as a team. I guess I just thought all this would be easier, but, we'll figure it out, together. I mean, look what your exercise did for them.

Charlie goes out of her way to talk with Vaggie and Vaggie's team-building works. Charlie puts both her and Vaggie's feelings into words, whereas Vaggie builds trust through her actions.

Despite this, Chaggie don't really address their problems, which come back stronger:

Adam: Don't you act all high and mighty Did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar? Vaggie: Don't, Adam, please! Adam: What's the fuss? Why hide the fact that you're an angel just like us?

Charlie has been ignoring Vaggie's dark side, so she is devastated when it comes out. Vaggie instead has been hiding the truth from Charlie, so it is revealed in the worst way possible. After this, there is an inversion in Charlie and Vaggie's dynamic:

Vaggie: Charlie, can we talk about this-- Charlie: We can talk later. Right now, we have a job to do. You with us?

Vaggie is the one looking for a conversation, whereas Charlie pushes her girlfriend away. Before they can reconcile, the two girls need to go through individual trips and to find the guidance of two mentors.

A singer

A dancer

SINGING AND DANCING

Rosie and Carmilla are mature versions of Charlie and Vaggie:

Rosie is the Ruler of Cannibal Town, one of the nicest place in Hell. She is good-natured, but respected by her people. Moreover, she runs an Emporium, where she helps her clients with their personal problems. This is pretty much what Charlie would like to do with the Hazbin Hotel. Rosie is also a singer and is inspired by Dolly, from the musical "Hello, Dolly!"

Carmilla is Hell's top weapon dealer, so she specializes in war and is herself an exceptional fighter. However, she is not ruthless and mostly fights to protect her loved ones. She is the kind of person a more balanced and self-assured Vaggie might become. Carmilla is also designed as a ballerina and her two daughters are called after protagonists of famous ballets.

Why do Charlie and Vaggie's adult selves have a singing and dancing motif? That's because Charlie and Vaggie are respectively a singer and a dancer.

Charlie is a singer:

Charlie: My name is Charlie, I like to sing! And when we get to know each other it's the greatest thing!

She always conveys her feelings through songs, like her many attempts to pitch her hotel (to the Sinners, to Adam, to the Cannibals). What is more:

Charlie: But Lilith thrived, empowering demonkind with her voice and songs.

Charlie wants to become like Lilith and to empower people with her voice. Her objective is to grow into an inspiring leader, who changes minds and touches hearts with words.

Vaggie is a dancer:

The problem is that she has yet to realize it. Vaggie struggles with self-expression, which is why she has very few songs in the first season. That said, she shows her devotion through actions, like her determination to fight for Charlie. What she needs to learn is a new fighting style rooted in love. That is dancing, a way to express one-self through the body. This is made clear by the two cut episodes Challenge Day and The Baphomet Ball:

This cut plotline had Vaggie fight proto-Carmilla and lose. Charlie would later cheer her up by inviting her to a Ball. There proto-Carmilla would be impressed by Vaggie's dancing skills. The basic idea is obvious. Vaggie is a fighter, who must evolve into a dancer.

So, once again Chaggie is complementary:

Charlie is linked to singing, words and "soul", as she herself is the Heart of the Hazbin Hotel.

Vaggie is linked to dancing, actions and "body", as she herself is the Arm of the Hazbin Hotel.

As a result, they are given opposite missions to save the hotel:

Charlie must convince the Cannibals to join her army (singing). She must find people, who will help them fight.

Vaggie must discover from Carmilla how to fight the exorcists. This means both learning her fighting style (dancing) and obtaining the angelic weapons.

And yet, to succeed in their respective areas of expertise both Charlie and Vaggie must step into the other's shoes.

Charlie learns to better understand Vaggie and by doing so she realizes the importance of actions:

Rosie: If there's anything I've learned, it's that words are cheap, but actions, they speak the truth. So, what have her actions said? Charlie: That she believes in me, and what we're doing.

Not only that, but she is forced to take a look inside and starts unpacking some of her negative emotions:

Charlie: My girlfriend is an Exorcist angel, and she never told me Rosie: Oh, shit! Quite a secret. How does that make you feel? Charlie: Just, angry, because we share everything, because she always supported me, and my ideas, and-and- and now, I don't know whether or not that was just more of the lies! Oh no that's a horrible thing to think! Do i think that?! Yes! N-no. Kinda?

As a result, she comes up with a song that combines her natural showmanship and charisma with a new resolution to act:

Charlie: For the first time in my life I might have to be ready for this Ready to be the one who's leading from the front Gotta come into my own Gotta come into my throne Gotta take charge and defend my only home And although I kinda feel unsteady Now I need to be ready for this

Charlie steps into the role of leader and is ready to take action:

All: For the first time in our lives We know that we are ready for this Rosie: We'll show Heaven a fight they won't forget! All: It's time to take a stand Charlie: It is time to lend a hand! (Cannibals: Huzzah!) Against the angels and their deadly threat! All: We cannot take it anymore The time has come to go to war Prepare to fight, we're ready for… THIS!

Vaggie inspires the residents of the Hotel to stay and convinces Carmilla to help. By doing so, she shows how much she has grown thanks to her time with Charlie:

Vaggie: What's important now is that we're going to have a fight on our hands. Look, this hotel is about to become the most dangerous place in hell, and we….I, can't guarantee your safety anymore. I still believe in Charlie's dream. I know this place can work. But none of you signed up for this. I'm gonna go learn how we can fight back, and when I come home….Well I'll understand if none of you are here.

Moreover, she learns to fight in a new way intertwined with music (Charlie's passion and world):

This fighting style is focused on defense and survival, rather than attack and killing:

Carmilla: Angels attack quickly, viciously, and without mercy. You'll need to defend better than that.

Carmilla: Well, look at that. You might just survive this.

It is based on love:

Carmilla: I see you're driven by your detestation Your every step is stoked with animus You need a different type of motivation Or there's no way that you can handle this I know you're thirstin' for vengeance, Vaggie You're out for blood But you'll only stand a chance if you're out for love

By the end, Charlie and Vaggie meet each other in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie leads the people (soul) and Vaggie has the weapons (body). They have also grown enough to better understand each other. Charlie empathizes with Vaggie and forgives her lie. Vaggie realizes how much Charlie cares for her and is ready to value herself more:

At the same time, Charlie faces some of her repressed "aggressivity" and makes an important step as Princess of Hell:

Rosie and Alastor: She's bound to pass the test as Princess of Hell Like her Daddy, she is madly power-fell!

Vaggie instead learns some "self-love" and makes progress into becoming a true angel:

Carmilla: You're gonna fight without gloves And when that push comes to shove Yeah, you just might rise above Long as you're out for love

These changes are fully embraced and tested in the final battle.

FINALE: DEVIL AND ANGEL

The fight against the Exorcists is where Charlie and Vaggie's integration is on full display, starting with their designs:

Charlie wears a mini-dress with a heart decoration and wields a shield.

Vaggie fully covers her body with an androgynous and practical attire. She fights with her signature spear.

The usually masculine looking Charlie appears feminine. The usually feminine appearing Vaggie looks masculine. Their outfits also fit their respective fighting styles. Charlie is defensive, whereas Vaggie is aggressive. Wait... isn't something wrong? Shouldn't Charlie grow more aggressive and Vaggie more defensive? Yes and this is precisely what happens as the battle progresses...

Charlie is overwhelmed by her anger and grief over Sir Pentious's death and unlocks her full demonic form. She goes from defense (shield) to offense (pitchfork) and injures Adam. Finally, she transforms her arm into a claw and stops the First Man in his tracks.

Vaggie is attacked by Lute, loses her spear and is forced on the defensive. She protects herself from Lute's relentless assault until she reveals her angelic wings and traps her opponent. Eventually, she has pity of Lute and lets her live.

Charlie's climatic moment is a show of strength, whereas Vaggie's is a show of mercy.

In other words:

Charlie appears more feminine, but acts more masculine

Vaggie appears more masculine, but acts more feminine

In comparison to their usual dynamic, Chaggie go through a complete inversion. This development is conveyed also by a small detail: their hair. Charlie lets hers loose, while Vaggie ties hers.

Charlie's hair usually covers her horns and is tied because she represses her demonic side. The moment she gives in to her inner demon, the horns come out and the hair gets loose, just like her feelings are untamed.

Vaggie: I'm not used to fighting with long hair.

Vaggie's hair is an attempt to hide her past and vulnerability. She has it grow after her abandonement to mask her scars (her eye and missing wings). In the finale, she ties it to fight freely. In this way, her brand new angelic wings can come out in all their beauty.

So, Charlie embraces her demon side, while Vaggie has her inner angel emerge. The twist is that Charlie the demon teaches Vaggie how to be a proper angel. Vaggie the angel instead shows Charlie that there is value in demonic traits. They integrate with each other to become the best versions of themselves. This shows also before and after the fight.

In the Finale, Charlie expresses all her self-loathing:

Charlie: He did it for us, the ultimate sacrifice He gave me his trust, and look how we paid the price This bloodshed could have been avoided If I convinced Heaven to work together I took a hotel and I destroyed it I know I could have done better Better, instead of letting you down

Thanks to this, her loved ones come to her side and support her. What is more, she starts to back up her words with actions:

Katie Killjoy: Charlie Morningstar managed to fend off the angelic attack with more than just nice words.

In More Than Anything Reprise, Vaggie conveys her love to Charlie through words and is there for her in a moment of self-doubt and weakness:

Vaggie: You've already done so much So many lives you've changed So many souls you've touched And in the end, if it's only me you've saved

She shows her sweetness and sensitivity.

By the end of season 1, Chaggie are together and stronger than ever. They have made the first steps into integration and tapped into their respective potentials. Both as individuals and as saviors of the universe.

THE MYTH OF EDEN

Charlie: Drawn in by Lilith's fierce independence, Lucifer found her, and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love.

The series starts with a retelling of the myth of Eden, which is set-up as the heart of the series:

Plot-wise all the characters are living with its consequences

Theme-wise it shows the birth of love between the first man and the first woman...

The twist is that the first couple isn't Adam and Eve, but Lucifer and Lilith:

Who are foils to Charlie and Vaggie:

Both couples have a demon and an angel, who fall in love against the odds.

Both Charlie and Vaggie foil Lucifer in different ways. Like her father, Charlie is a wide-eyed idealist, who doesn't fit in her kingdom and wants to change it. Like the devil, Vaggie is a fallen angel, who is let down by heaven and finds love in hell.

Both Charlie and Vaggie are set-up to foil Lilith. Charlie is a demon full of love, who wants to empower others with her voice. Just like her mom. Vaggie is an angel hidden in hell, who keeps secrets out of a misplaced wish to protect others. Lilith is a demon hidden in heaven... wanna bet that she is keeping secrets from her husband and daughter to protect them?

Why is there such a juxtaposition between the two couples? Two reasons:

Charlie is gonna deal with her complicated feelings for her parents through Vaggie. Her partner is gonna challenge her to grow into her own person (microchosm).

Lucifer and Lilith unwillingly broke the world, but Charlie and Vaggie are gonna fix it (macrochosm)

This is why the two couples are immediately juxtaposed:

After Charlie ends her retelling of The Story of Hell, Vaggie arrives to check on her.

Lucifer and Lilith destroyed the status quo:

Charlie: But this gift came with a curse. And with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way to Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered.

Charlie and Vaggie will bring a new and better one:

Charlie: We'll make a difference, wait and see Charlie and Vaggie: We're gonna do this, you and me

[frozenjokes]

time loop prison au except scar is the human sentenced to years of solitary confinement and cub and Cleo are the unfortunate kitty cat souls that stumble their way into his den.

tw: cannibalism, self mutilation, blood and gore, brief depictions on skin and hair picking that may be triggering for related disorders, general freak shit

Scar might not be human anymore, but he used to be. It’s unclear what happened to him; really, the people working on his case are trying to figure it out to keep this from ever happening again, but Scar was too destructive to keep on Earth, and maybe more importantly, too unafraid of hurting himself and others to understand what’s going on with him in a timely manner.

They send him to space. Scar used to love space, he did, but it means nothing to him now, not when he’s been deprived of the sacrifices he was surviving off of, the power that motivated him, that made him strong- was it so wrong to eat? Scar doesn’t care much for morals, only the wildly unfair way he’s been treated since he’s been apprehended- Come on! He wasn’t doing anything wrong! If he believes it will score him pity, he’ll claim innocence, though get too close and it’s the last mistake you’ll ever make.

He never once bothered with the puzzle. Not that he would ever have been freed anyway.

Scar smells like rot, pungent and overpowering, and maybe that’s because despite his still beating pulse, the body has been long dead. It bothers him though, it does bother him, but ever-charismatic for the cameras ever-watching, he tries not to let it show. Cruel of the humans, exceedingly cruel not to give him a companion. These types of prisons usually held two or three, didn’t they? He wouldn’t stink so badly if he just had that taste of flesh, any access at all, he was sure of it. He could go back to the way things were before, bright and beautiful and perhaps a little bit blood stained, but for the most part he cleaned up after himself. He wasn’t a monster for heaven’s sake! Or maybe he was. He identified differently depending on the day.

If he hadn’t been thorough with his clean up before, then he certainly was now. He did not like that he smelled. He had to make it go away, he did not know how, but he did have one idea, another desire so critical to his existence that the man who once lived in this body truly did not know how he’d gone so long without it. Overcome with that heady longing, he gives in and feasts on himself. He can not smell the rot over the stench of his own blood. And despite the fact that this does not work, that he is still rotting from the inside out, he finds a new excitement with his own skin. He wants to taste every part of himself.

Scar considers this phase of his prisoner life to be a brief bout of insanity, an age that he has long moved past. He still needs to eat, he needs it, and along with the desire for flesh of others, a lust that still rings unbearably strong in him, his own meat has been added to the menu. However, the way he engages now is far more civilized, more controlled, and when he bleeds out or dies in any number of ways, he knows exactly when and how these deaths will take place, and he never over indulges; if a plan is created, then it will be followed exactly. He makes sure to walk the people on the other side of the cameras through the entire thing first, tells them they’ll need to keep him accountable for his own self inflicted suffering, that he has to be good lest he be punished. He has never allowed himself to be punished before; at the back of his mind he knows they care not for his game, but to have this fact confirmed would ruin all the fun. He maintains his control.

But again, while the gluttony of self mutilation was a temporary relief from the hunger and the smell, he still stank.

Scar was fastidious with his cleanliness, he hated his body, he always felt dirty, and no amount of clawing at his skin would make it any better. Moles, hair, bumps, and imperfections created by past scars, they all had to go, they had to be destroyed. Scar was always bleeding, a constant of his existence, but that was alright, because blood could be cleaned, and while Scar never felt clean, there was a certain relief that fell over him during the act.

Scar did not sleep. He needed to sleep; his body did at least, but never once did Scar lay down to rest, and passing out from exhaustion was no different than dying.

And then the ship would shake from the blast of the explosion, and Scar would be frozen, shaken with the prospect of opportunity.

Two catfolk, ambitious, perhaps to the point of stupidity, but in their defense, they did not know the kinds of prisoners the humans locked up in these high profile cells. In most cases, it would have been reckless to break into one of these ships on purpose, but the danger would not stem explicitly from the inhabitants inside. If you knew this, if you were careful, perhaps the resources would be worth the risk.

Cub was dead within seconds of their first encounter; in future loops Scar might take his time, but he knew well that to keep his new companions, he had to kill them first. Scar was shot four times before Cleo was taken down as well. Scar circled the entire ship, hoping there would be more than two. Perhaps delirious from blood loss, he had been trying to clean up after his own blood trail before he collapsed.

The second round, he was so overcome by his hunger that he failed to kill Cub before moving on to Cleo, feasting over her corpse and shot dead in the act, five or six times before he truly stopped moving. Cub succumbed to his injuries soon after.

And for the next loops, Scar was hunting. He could think of nothing but hunting, eating, so consumed by his need to eat that he did not even realize his quarry were not human, that the flesh he so often tasted but could not swallow was not actually the kind he’d been craving. He persisted, regardless. Relentless. Unyielding. Being shot, even several times by both invading parties, was not enough to stop him from taking at least one of them down, and most days injuring the other.

But over the course of time and many, many loops, the mental strain stays. They all still needed to sleep. Adrenaline and terror kept Cub and Cleo awake, while Scar had gotten his fair share of meat. He was not able to indulge the way he would have liked, yes, but the thrill of a hunt more than made up for this desire, and after years of deprivation on Earth and in prison, Scar was finally, finally full. So one loop, over twenty four hours of combined time being awake, Scar left his bed and collapsed.

Cub and Cleo were waiting for his attack. It never came. With great caution, as they had been ambushed before, they explored the ship and eventually came across him, unconscious on the floor. They shot him dead. He never fought or moved. And so it was over. Without adrenaline keeping them on their feet, the both of them had no mind for anything else but sleep. Over the course of a nightmare so horrific it was difficult to accept as real, both catfolk slept soundly, curled tight around each other on the other side of the room. Scar was still dead when they woke up. Of course he was. But with this came the processing of what had just happened, and where exactly they were trapped.

They had no access to any forms of communication to Earth. No way to call home. In reality, both of them knew the risks of what they had just done, but neither had imagined the consequences to be so severe.

Over the course of their first twenty four hours here, both catfolk had died to a variety of the ship’s many traps, mostly trying to escape Scar. But even at their most careful, they were not used to this environment. Cub, headstrong and sometimes careless because of it, triggered the trap that killed both of them. Perhaps the two of them would have been a little more aware of their surroundings if they were not glued to each other’s side, but alas. What’s done is done.

In stark terror, they woke up in the next loop, waiting for Scar to come to them. There was a certain amount of learned helplessness here, having shot a man seemingly immune to bullets so many times, that neither cat really expected their means of defense to work. Maybe that’s why when their guards were finally down, when they were finally resigned to setting out through the ship to look for the human that plagued their new life, they only froze when the left door opened, and Scar poked his head through.

“Hello :3,” he said, perfectly friendly. And then they shot him dead. Over the next couple weeks, months even, this was how things went. Long enough at least that Cub and Cleo were beginning to feel the strain of being trapped here, wanting to know what had changed, why this stranger, previously monstrous, had been nothing but friendly over the past.. seven or eight times they killed him. Clearly he did not hold grudges.

Scar could not have been more delighted not to be shot dead on sight! What polite gentlemen these aliens were, he had never met an alien before, though he did have a cat once, before.. Well, no use dwelling. The catfolk would get no opportunity to speak or ask questions, Scar talking nonstop as he declared a grand tour. He would not even stop to breathe, almost as if he forgot he needed to, wheezing through the words he couldn’t quite force out until he was literally blue in the face, then was forced to stop, taking a few seconds to breathe. If Cub or Cleo said anything during these break periods, Scar would deftly ignore them, continuing on as if no one had spoken. There would be no getting through to him, not this loop at least, not before he turned on Cub in the middle of his speech, stopping suddenly for the more appealing venture of eating a man alive. Scar did not stop trying until he was physically unable, his head and by extension jaw blown clean off. Cub did not survive this encounter, leaving Cleo alone.

And so more loops pass in a similar fashion as before, shooting Scar dead the moment he showed his face, though, it was obvious by now that if he intended on hurting them from the beginning, he would not die so easily.

When Scar was first given the opportunity to speak, neither Cub nor Cleo were expecting an apology.

“It’s been a while..” Scar had shrugged, waving a hand dismissively, “They’re not kind to me like you are back on Earth. I got nothing. Nothing to eat, no one to talk to.. This has all been so cathartic!” And it surely was, wasn’t it.

Better to keep Scar dead than alive, a dead Scar was the only good decision to do with him that the catfolk could have made, but alas, with an alive Scar there was a certain kind of hope, a kindled flame that might draw light to the dark of their hopeless situation. Scar could help them, if he wanted to. He could give them information, tell them anything that might lessen the burden of this situation, tell them how long they were going to be stuck here.

Scar was uninterested in those kinds of questions, nor was he the kind of man to give anything away for free.

As time and loops passed, Scar was less sporadic, less unpredictable, and would go full days without attempting to dismember one or both catfolk. When he wasn’t violent, he was truly amiable, curious; he wanted to know things, know about their lives, domestic habits, he wanted stories, and really it did start to seem like he wanted the normalcy of their lives for himself, though he couldn’t quite grasp it. There seemed to be a separation from the Scar that just wanted to talk for hours about the benign, and the Scar that tore out their still beating hearts, devouring everything as one or both watched.

But there was no difference. If there was ever a man in that body, the smell of rot that exuded from his skin should have been enough of a tell that he was long dead.

Easier, perhaps, to go blind to the smell. To excuse small instances of cruelty, growing larger every passing day. What do you do if for a fraction of the information you’ve been yearning for, he asks for your flesh? He asks you to watch, he asks your companion to stand by while you take it. What if he asks you to eat each other? Surely it’d be worth it for a call home, right? Scar sure thinks this is reasonable, and he’s been so kind this past week, hasn’t he.

You grow to fear those long periods of peace. You know he’s waiting to ask for something bigger, something worse, something you know that one day, you won’t come back from.

When Cleo is dead, killed and consumed by your hand, he asks for your body. He knows his is rotting, that he can’t stay here much longer, not after his prison sentence is over. He needs a new host. He’d like it to be you.

What if he told you he could bring you home? If in exchange for your life, he could ensure Cleo’s was preserved. People don’t last very long outside of these prisons.. and after all the horrible things you’ve done up here, would you be able to live with yourself anyway? Would Cleo?

I can take it all away. I can make sure you both survive.

And of course you want her to survive. Of course you do. It was you who suggested they go along with Scar’s demands in the first place, pull those pieces of information from his teeth, it was so reasonable at first, not anything he wouldn’t have taken anyway.

It was you who suggested she steal from one of these human prisons with you. It was you who got her into this mess. You made her a monster right beside you. You wanted her to survive.

So of course you accepted. Was there ever another option?

[bonesbonesbones69]

A GTN Fanmix

It's done!!! I can't believe it. I spent so much time on this, I had so much fun. I'm still doing final touches on the HTN playlist but it will also be done so soon. For now: Gideon.

Track list:

The Legend of Chavo Guerrero (The Mountain Goats)

Bitter Rivals (Sleigh Bells)

Hast Though Considered the Tetrapod (The Mountain Goats)

Mark on You (The Mountain Goats)

End Love (Ok Go)

Clear the Area (Imogen Heap)

Ask (The Smiths)

Anything For You (Ludo)

Everything I Am is Yours (Villagers)

Matilda (Alt-J)

Bleed Out (The Mountain Goats)

I know that's a lot of mountain goats. But this is my playground and I'm doing whatever I want, and you can't stop me.

Song breakdown under the cut! I get wordy, i've put a lot of thought into this playlist. Like a really embarrassing amount of thought. It's long. but also truly optional, this playlist can be enjoyed without my deep dive!! Enjoy!!

Yesssss you looked under the cut! Welcome to every thought i've ever had.

THE LEGEND OF CHAVO GUERRERO - THE MOUNTAIN GOATS

One thing I love about GTN is Gideon vs. her comic hero fantasies. It's heavily themed throughout this playlist, so we're starting with the concept.

I lose my mind thinking about Gideon spending her whole life dreaming about BEING someone and MAKING SOMETHING of herself through living out the action hero stories in her comics. That's what it means to be important and wanted, to fight and win and be covered in babes. Like they do in the comics.

Lyrics:

Before a black and white TV in the middle of the night I'm lying on the floor. I'm bathed in the light The telecast's in Spanish. I can understand some And I need justice in my life; here it comes

And then of course in the months between when she leaves the ninth and when dies, she lives the action comic hero scene by devoting herself dramatically to her necromancer and dying in battle for her - a short and tragic twist on the glorious victory found in comics, but also exactly what Gideon wanted from the comics: meaning to her actions. Being someone and making something of herself.

That shit makes me emotional so we're starting here, with the legend of chavo guerrero, and Gideon's childhood hero dreams.

BITTER RIVALS - SLEIGH BELLS

Ok the playlist is about "Gideon as the Action Hero" but its ALSO OF COURSE about Gideon + Harrow's relationship because I have the same disease about it that you all do. If you clicked down to read this stupid fanmix deep dive I can guarantee you also have this disease. the disease where we love Gideon + Harrow's relationship.

So here's a song about it :)

You are my bitter rival But I need you for survival

What else can I say??

This playlist is more or less chronologically aligned to GTN itself, which is something I love doing with playlists. Accordingly, this ones about them hating each other (yet... homoerotically?) and being inextricably tangled in each other at the same time. but don't worry, I have some gooier songs later.

HAST THOU CONSIDERED THE TETRAPOD - THE MOUNTAIN GOATS (AGAIN)

But not yet! Before we get to gooey love songs we have to listen to more child abuse songs.

Held under these smothering waves By your strong and thick-veined hands But one of these days I'm going to wriggle up on dry land

And it's also about maladaptive daydreaming and the persistent belief that there is a better future for you out there!!!

Playlist title is taken from this song - "I am young and I am good" as a self-identifier in the context of escaping and growing beyond an abusive household feel so right for Gideon, who is hungry for glory, but even more hungry to just be useful and acknowledged. To show that she is good and be validated as good. She hasn't had much opportunity in her life so far, which is SO unfair, because she is young and she is good!

MARK ON YOU - THE MOUNTAIN GOATS (GET USED TO IT)

When this is over, when we leave this all behind us Deep in the moonless night, when the rescue team finds us It's gonna get so dark for you I'm gonna leave a mark on you

What's perfect about this song is how threatening it is, and the implied violence... but also how in the same breath it implies an emotional footprint and no violence is ever confirmed. Do I even have to say that it's on here as a one-two punch referencing both harrow + Gideon's fighting and ALSO Gideon's sacrifice?? Of course that's why it's on here!!

It also gets bonus points for being off of the mountain goat's album 'bleed out', which was inspired by classic action movies. The action movie vibe comes through in the song, and therefore is a beautiful head-nod to Gideon the Action Hero at the same time as its a tragic foreshadowing to the nature of the mark that Gideon does in fact leave.

END LOVE - OK GO

Ok we're getting a little romantic. It's time for some songs about BUILDING TRUST ON PURPOSE

Cause no one's gonna save you, if you don't swim for the boat No one's gonna save you, if you won't take the rope No one's gonna find you, when you're hiding in the dark No one's gonna find you

The most romantic shit in the world to me is the combo of Harrow choosing to be vulnerable on purpose, and Gideon being so ready to accept and guard that vulnerability. Harrow's choices to let Gideon in are of course so delicious because theyre marinated in how absurdly difficult it is for her. And she does it so deliberately. She does it because she NEEDS to. Because the alternative (not having Gideons partnership) is so much worse. And that's romantic to me.

ASK - THE SMITHS

If there's something you'd like to try If there's something you'd like to try Ask me, I won't say no, how could I

Ok cmon. Right??

It's the other overwhelmingly romantic thing. The thing where Gideon is so ready to be there for harrow, when she's given the opportunity. When she's asked. And this is also STILL about having to be vulnerable and purposeful to build trust. Or the bomb will get you, or the whatever.

CLEAR THE AREA - IMOGEN HEAP

Ok here's the thing - I don't believe in criticizing your own art. Like posting something and saying 'oh its so bad' or pointing out all the stuff that didn't turn out right. It's self-defeating to give everyone the first impression that the thing you made is bad, before they have a chance to create their own impressions.

HOWEVER

The tone of this whole playlist is whack. Each song alone is great, but overall, the vibe is kind of sappy and idealistic and sweet - which feels so disparate from the tone of Gideon herself. I stand by the song choices I made but god I wish the vibe was more defensive, more funny, more bitter, more irreverent, more STUPID. ‘Bitter rivals’ is the only song on this playlist with the energy I dream of. I looked at some other riot grrl music but couldn’t find anything I loved. Ok I got so mad about this that I made a second playlist just now with only 'Gideon vibes' and no songs that have anything to do with shit that actually happened in GTN. Its here, it took 10m, and its very good.

Anyways, I’m telling you now because the song 'Clear the Area' is truly guilty of being too sweet and sincere.

Having said that, it absolutely belongs on this playlist anyways and I will defend it!

You find your way back down And I'll keep the area clear. When you find your way back down, in one piece Then I'll just be waiting here, right here.

This incredibly soft song is still solidly on the track of 'building trust on purpose or else the bomb will get you'. even more than that, it's about protecting and loving someone who is so wrapped up in their own shit that they do a very bad job of reaching out. and what about that DOESNT belong on a GTN playlist!!!

ANYTHING FOR YOU - LUDO

I don't have specific lyrics I want to share out for this one, but the entire thing as a whole deserves some attention: the singer lists fantastical and daring and victorious scenarios that they, clearly an adventurous hero, has completed, and then easily says that they'd give away all best things from their adventures for the song's subject.

It's an "all in" pledge that fits comfortably in with the cavalier oath. It's the commitment!! The gravity of devotion!!

and it's ALSO ABOUT IMAGINING YOURE A HERO yes thats right we are BACK to Gideon and the Action Hero. The song doesn't actually say that all the scenarios are imagined, but the variety and fantasy hint that they could easily be imagined. At the very least, they're supposed to make us think about adventure stories and that's good enough for me.

A fun little bonus for this one is the line "but the best story I could ever tell is the one where I am growing old with you," which I'm calling out because I get a little kick out of the 'growing old' theme. There's also a line in the legend of chavo guerrero, "I don't know but i've been told, it's real sweet to grow old". Between these two songs, the easy coupling of 'I dream of heroic deeds' with 'I will grow old' is... I mean.... tragic. I'm having fun, are you having fun?

EVERYTHING I AM IS YOURS - VILLAGERS

This is one of the first songs I put on this playlist. It's significant that this song has stayed on so long, I started seriously working on this playlist a month ago (in tandem with an HTN playlist) and i've removed and replaced most of the songs I started with.

There were times when I did consider removing it - I wondered if this song was a little redundant with 'anything for you'. Both are songs about devoting yourself fully to someone else. But what this song has that 'anything for you' doesn't, is the idea that 'everything I am' comes with the bad as well as the good. It's a promise and also a resigned statement.

I find it hard to say what's going on inside Got these little walls, couldn't break them if I tried But I promise I'll be true. And I promise I'll be right Sickness and in health. In the darkness and the light I give you every side 'Cause everything I am is yours

MATILDA - ALT J

OK WAIT HEAR ME OUT WAIT HEAR ME OUT WAIT WAIT IM SERIOUS ABOUT THIS ONE

It's a little high concept but whatever this is my playlist and I can do whatever I want!! you're welcome its not another mountain goats song.

The song Matilda by Alt J is not only a classic indie hit from 2012 with lyrics so warbly theyre basically nonsense, it is also explicitly about the ending to the 1994 action film 'Leon: The Professional'. Which I am about to talk about, so if you don't want spoilers, don't read the rest of this section!

So what happens at the end of the professional (and i'm stalling writing the sentence in case you are trying to skim over this to avoid spoilers), is that Leon (the professional himself) dies taking out an enemy with a grenade. This action saves the life of a young girl (Matilda) who he's taken under his wing, and who has brought new meaning into his life. Before blowing himself up, he hands the pin to the enemy, saying 'this is from Matilda', it's beautiful i cried blah blah blah

Put the grenade pin in your hand, so you understand who's boss. My defeat sleeps top to toe with her success Oh this is from, this is from, This is from Matilda

By now we're all on the same page, it's a song about dying so that someone you love will stay alive and finding meaning and purpose in that action, it's a song about what happened at the end of GTN.

AND it's a song about an action hero

AND it is itself the artistic reverb that the action hero had throughout pop culture!!!

Alt J saw 'the professional' and thought holy shit thats meaningful i'm gonna write a song about it. Gideon read comics and thought holy shit thats meaningful someday im gonna put my own life on the line for a necromancer. Then she DID, and DIED. Which is INSANE and I cried way more than I cried at the professional.

And the playlist ends on the next song for the exact same reason.

BLEED OUT - THE MOUNTAIN GOATS

What can I even say!! I'm only gonna quote a couple lyrics here but I could really go line-by-line for this entire 7 minute song.

There was a chance we'd make it through this It's safe to say now that we missed it And I will never lose hope, and I haven't lost hope I'm just realistic I will go down punching, but I will go down and my corner man won't bring me back around Bleed out I'm gonna bleed out

This is the second song on this playlist from the action-movie inspired album 'bleed out', and this song is about the endings to action movies where the heroes die. It's about the trope that happened to Leon and Gideon. It's a little tongue in cheek, it's funny, extremely genre-savvy, long, slow, and sad.

The tone, content, and meta commentary about action heroes all make this one of my favorite songs on the playlist.

Every story needs a child who believes The brave hero's gonna be just fine You only have to check the papers to see Some of these children end up just like me Bleed out I'm gonna bleed out

I was sooo close to naming this playlist “every story needs a child who believes” but it’s a mouthful. So let’s just take a moment here, deep in the playlist footnotes, to think about it.

Are you thinking about it? I'm thinking about it.

Anyways, that's the whole playlist. If you read this (any of it), thank you, I love you. I am going to miss this playlist now that I'm casting it out into the wild. But it's time. I think it's complete.

See you again when I get the final touches on the HTN playlist. which has just as many mountain goats songs. and is even better ;)

[dw19791967]

That Type of Girl Part 4

Pairing: Dean x reader (Eventual), Sam x reader (Platonic)

Warnings: language, unrequited love, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of self-hate, fluff.

This is the fourth fic I have ever written, all mistakes are my own. Please be gentle on me!

____________________________

Dean's POV:

“Where the hell is she Sam?” I was pissed. Why the hell would she open the door without us being here.

“I’m not sure man, I’m looking. I promise we will find her.” Sam was searching on his laptop.

“I think it’s that Rick dude she mentioned, I mean she knew something was up with him. I don’t understand why she would be so stupid.” I can’t lose her. She is my best friend.

“Looks like there are two possibilities for where he would take her, he must have smashed her phone because I can’t pick up a GPS signal.” Sam looked at me.

“Where was the last location ping?” I looked at Sam’s screen.

“There, it’s that one.” I pointed to the closet location. Close to where her phone pinged. “Let’s go get my girl.”

_________________

Y/N's POV:

God, I can’t wait for the ass chewing the boys are gonna give me. Anything is better than listening to Rick whine and groan about how much he hates women. It’s been about five hours since he took me. He has sliced me more than a Christmas ham. I guess better me than some other helpless woman.

“Wondering when your saviors will come, sweet Y/N?” Rick started working his way towards me again.

“Actually I was wondering something about you. Why is it you pick women to prey on, hmm? Worried a big strong man would be able to see through your BS?” I smirked at Rick.

“You know you are one annoying bitch, Jesus how do the Winchesters put up with you?” 

Rick smacked me across the face. Hard enough to make my mouth bleed.

“What can I say, I am a joy to be around.” I pray the boys are close.

Rick starts to come close to my face. “As soon as your big giants get here, we can really get this party started. That is if they come to save your fatass.” 

I spit blood in his face. “Aw thank you for the compliment, I actually don’t think I have much of an ass but if you do, well it must be true.” I smiled at him.

“You bitch, you are so dead!” Rick lunged towards me. I am exhausted, I can’t even keep my eyes open at this point. Guess this is the end.

“Hey asshole!” Dean rushed into the building.

“Well, looky here sweet Y/N. It looks like they came to save you after all.” Rick walked towards Dean.

“You know, I have been more annoyed in the last five hours than I think I have been my whole life. I give you props for not kicking her to the curb. Why don’t I do you and your idiot brother a favor and kill her now?” 

“Listen, Rick is it? I don’t know what the hell your problem is and frankly I don’t give a damn. What do you say I do you a favor and kill you quickly?”

Rick glared at Dean.

“Well, suit yourself I guess. We will do this the hard way.” Dean smirked.

_______________________

The next thing I know I am waking up in the backseat of baby. 

“Hey Y/N we are almost back to the motel, then we will get you patched up alright?” Sam looked over the front seat at me.

I turned over and closed my eyes, sleep seemed like the best idea right now.

I felt the car park. I opened my eyes to see the driver door slam. Great Dean’s pissed, just what I need tonight.

“He’s pissed right?” I asked Sam.

“He was just worried about you, we both were Y/N.” Sam pats my hand.

Once inside the room I sat down at the table. Dean glared at me from his side of the bed.

“I will let Dean patch you up, I’ll go grab us something to eat. Burgers ok?” Sam looked at me.

“Yeah that is fine, thanks Sam.” I gave him a slight smile to show that I am ok.

With Sam gone the room filled with awkward silence. I hate having Dean mad at me.

“You know it was incredibly stupid for you to open the door without back up right?” Dean moved towards me.

“I know Dean.” I sighed. I hope he makes this ass chewing fast.

“What would have happened if me and Sammy didn’t make it there in time Y/N? Do you know how that would have mad us feel?!” Dean is radiating anger. He was pacing the room.

“I know Dean, I’m sorry I really am. I thought it was you or Sammy at the door. I promise I wouldn’t have opened it, if I knew it was him.” I started to cry. If I cried it meant one of three things. I was really really happy, I was angry, or I was sad. It is a mixture of two and three right now.

“I know I am an idiot and I should have been more careful, I promise I will try to be better.” I looked at Dean with tears in my eyes. I hated disappointing him.

Dean sighed. “Look sweetheart, I care about you a lot, I just don’t want to think about if something bad happened to you and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“I know Dean, I am really freaking sorry.” I moved my leg towards him and winched. Damn the cuts are starting to hurt.

“How about you take a shower and I will get you stitched up?” Dean moved to help me stand.

“Ok.” I made my way slowly to the bathroom. Once inside I started the shower. Dean made sure I made it ok. 

“I’m gonna set the stuff up, I’ll lay your pj’s on the sink for you. Holler if you need me.” Dean looked at me. His eyes can usually tell me what he is thinking. Right now, it looks like they are full of worry.

“I will, promise.” While in the shower, I mentally prepare myself for Dean to stitch me up. I usually liked Sam doing it because I knew he wouldn’t judge my body and not that I think Dean will, I just don’t want him to see the whole me. Of course Dean had seen bits and pieces but not the whole thing and definitely not a lot at once. Dear Lord, please let this get over quickly.

I made my way out of the bathroom. Dean had left my favorite oversized shirt and pair of my boy short underwear on the sink for me. Ever since we decided to split laundry duty this is something I have gotten to be ok with him seeing. I had my hair up in a bun. I needed it out of my face.

“Where are the cuts at?” Dean had me sit down at the table. 

“Mainly my thighs, hips, and chest.” I sighed. This is worse than Rick torturing me. 

“Ok, let’s start with your legs first hmm?” Dean got on his knees to work. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

The needle went through my skin. This was nothing compared to the damage Rick had already done.

“You ok?” He looked at me with concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine.” I gave him a small smile.

“You know your freakishly strong pain tolerance is coming in handy right about now huh?” He grinned.

“Yeah I know. I’m so blessed.” I giggled.

He worked on my thighs and hips for about twenty minutes. I looked at the fresh stitches across both of my legs. I am really gonna impress the boys now huh.

“Ok, now for your chest. How do you want to do this?” He looked at me again, eyes full of worry.

I knew he was worried about making me uncomfortable. But honestly I am so exhausted at this point I just want to get this over with. He has already seen dozens of stretch marks and cellulite across my thighs. 

“How about I take my shirt off and cover the girls and you can stitch?” I looked at him. I am praying he will not be grossed out. This is a line I thought we would never have to cross.

“Sounds good sweetheart, I’ll turn around while you do what you need to do.” He is a gentleman after all.

I covered my boobs and stomach the best I could. “Ok, ready.” I closed my eyes.

Dean got to work. These ones didn’t take as long. Thankfully Rick was interrupted before he could keep going. 

“Alright, all done.” He finished covering the big cut with a bandage. 

I opened my eyes. “Thanks Dean.” 

“No problem sweetheart.” He winked at me.

Damn him why does he always do that.

I blushed.

“You know I love you right Y/N?” Dean moved to put the supplies away.

“Of course Dean, I love you too.” I was still holding my shirt over my boobs and stomach. 

“I don’t know what all Rick said to you but I want you to know I think you are beautiful and perfect the way you are.” Dean looked at me, except this time his eyes lacked worry. No this time, it almost looked like he was happy.

“Well thank you.” I blushed again. Why is he saying these things? Surely he is bullshiting me.

“I know you may not believe me and that’s ok. But I really do mean it.” Dean made his way to me.

“Dean, I appreciate you saying it. Rick did make some comments but that’s ok, he’s a demon and I don’t really give a ratsass what he thinks and now he’s dead.” I looked at him.

“I know you don’t always think highly of yourself, but you are an amazing person. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Dean brushed his hand against my shoulder. 

What is happening? Why is he being all mushy? I am so confused. 

“I know Dean, I feel the same way.” I looked at him again.

“No, I’m not sure if you do sweetheart. You see, the thing is, I’m pretty sure I am in love with you.” Dean looked me in the eyes now.

Oh shit, what in the hell is happening?!

________________________________

Tag List:

@hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist

@pandasrdbest2341

[cupcakes-and-pain]

Charles & Ollie: Past

Hey guys. Um. It’s been a while since I’ve written. Sorry. Anyway! I really love this piece. It’s also much longer than most chapters I write, I’m pretty sure. Almost 2.8k words. So that’s fun.

Enjoy!

CW: pet whump, slave whump, refusing to use someone’s name, insults, perceived abandonment (technically not real), fear of punishment, self hatred, unreliable narrator, drug trafficking, drugging mention, police, starvation, escape/running away, homelessness, fear of death

Masterlist

— — —

It had been a normal day.

Wake up, make breakfast for Master, kneel quietly, and hope that he did well. Hope that he wouldn't have to spend the next few days tied up, bleeding, and starving in the basement. It was always his fault for being so stupid and deserving to be punished, but he could hope. Not want, of course, that'd never be allowed. But he could secretly wish and dream for a time when Master was forgiving.

Luckily, Master didn't find anything wrong with his pet's behavior that morning, so he set out. But not before giving his slave a strong kick to the ribs to keep him in his place. Pet preferred the kicks, the other choice for a daily reminder was a slap. Pet hated the hand marks. They made his already hideous face look even more ugly.

Pet set about his chores, washing the dishes and wiping the counter. He caught his blurred reflection in the polished granite. His collar was tight around his neck, the little tag hanging from it jingling.

He touched it gently, longing to hear his Master say the name written on it, just once. He knew that he needed the reminders because he was so stupid and useless. He'd forget his place if he wasn't called names all day. "Slave. Pet. Stupid. Ugly. Mutt. Useless. Fleabag. Bitch. Dog." On and on, all the cruelest things Master and his friends could think of, perfectly suiting for the crushed and bleeding thing that so often laid at their feet.

But Pet longed to hear his name, his real name, so badly. It had been so long, he knew it was bad, he knew he was selfish and worthless and dumb. But... no one would know, right? If he said it, just this once? Such a tiny word, only two syllables.

"Ol-"

The door flung open, and Pet jumped back, arms above his head. It was like the ground crumbled beneath his feet, and his stomach dropped. He fell to the floor, curled up, trying desperately to protect his most vital organs from attack. Had Master been waiting for this? He knew that his slave would mess up, didn't he? And he was just waiting to beat the living daylights out of the useless, worthless, disgusting piece of flesh that he owned.

"Hey, no, stupid dog. Come here." Master hauled him up off his feet and dragged him towards the basement. Pet whimpered but was in awe that Master was able to hold his fury in until they got to the basement. Usually, he'd just beat Pet wherever he was and make him clean up the blood from the floor and carpeting later.

"M-master, please, I-"

"Shush. You know what, hide! I'll be back in a few days. Some guys might come through, maybe a cop or two. Listen to me, you pathetic excuse for a dog." Master grabbed Pet's face roughly, fingernails digging into his cheeks. He was forcing Pet to look into his eyes, something that was rarely allowed. But it must be okay this time if Master was the one causing it.

"You have to understand.” Master said, “Do. Not. Come. Out. For. Anyone. However you need to do it, just get it through your thick skull. Don't stop hiding until I come back and say it's okay to leave, okay?" Master half-heartedly threw him to the floor, his slave more confused than he had ever been or probably ever would be. With one last disapproving glare, Master left.

Pet never saw him again.

- - -

It was true, he soon learned, that many people would be coming through the house. Pet feared he would feel lonely and bored while waiting, but there was a lot to keep his thoughts occupied and off of... other things.

First, cops searched the entire building. Pet heard them and dashed to a tiny closet in the basement, wedging a piece of wood in the handle on his side of the door. The police tried and failed to get in and even discussed cutting it open with an ax. Pet trembled, sweat dripping off his forehead while he tried to stop himself from hyperventilating.

Eventually, though, one of them protested, not wanting to do more work when they already had evidence. And so they left, making the house silent and (somewhat) stress-free once more.

Other people came and went too, talking and cursing. Most of them Pet recognized as the voices of Master's friends. He knew better than to listen to people's conversations, but they all kept mentioning drugs and pills, the type that had once been used on Pet. He remembered the experience, although things were still a little fuzzy.

It made his head hurt for days afterward, but at the moment, everything had felt so nice and peaceful for a few minutes before the blackout. When he woke up, he was covered in bruises and cuts, but it had still taken a few minutes for the relaxation to wear off and the pain to settle in.

Master had gotten very upset that his friends wasted the pills on a pet, after "everything he went through to get them." Despite already being beaten just an hour ago, Pet was punished severely for taking the pills. He had wanted to protest that the men had made him, but he knew better. The men were superior to him. They couldn't be faulted for it. So the blame must lie with Pet. It must. Master was never wrong.

In the present day, after many days of hunger and freezing nights down in the basement, Pet felt like he couldn't go on like this. No one had visited in a while. He knew what he was thinking about was bad. He knew that if Master found out what he was about to do, he'd be furious. He made it absolutely clear that his pet was not to leave the basement.

And yet, Pet finds himself sneaking up to the kitchen. He filled two bags with dog food and then, with some careful consideration, took three apples. Master never liked fruit but would still buy it; Pet was never quite sure of the reasoning behind that. And Pet had already been so bad, a few apples that would've rotted away even if Master had been there was nothing.

Pet then made his way to the living room and took several blankets and pillows. Then, noticing the mail had been delivered, he also took the newest copy of Pet Paper. Most of the articles either were boring or scared him, but they usually had fun pictures and a few games.

Carrying all of his loot and feeling surprisingly okay for a disobedient mutt who may have been abandoned, Pet made a little camp for himself in the basement. He decided to put the pillows and blankets in the closet where he had previously hidden from cops. The tiny space felt almost like his cage upstairs and he knew now that it was suitable for hiding.

Then he sat on the floor, grabbed a handful of dog food to munch on, and started reading.

Several more days passed before Pet started to get incredibly worried. He had heard the garbage truck pass by this morning. That was the second time since he had last seen Master. More than two weeks had gone by and still, no sign of where he had gone. What was previously just another anxious thought had transformed itself into a legitimate concern. Had Pet been abandoned?

Of course, it didn't make any sense. Why would Master leave everything just to get away from his pet?

But he couldn't deny that something was wrong. Even Master's friends had stopped visiting too. He didn't get it. Of course, he was so stupid, he could never understand why humans do the things they do. But he just couldn't think of any other explanation. So Master must've abandoned him.

Pet waited another week before finally deciding to leave. The dog food was running out, even after he had made several more disobedient trips upstairs. And if Pet had been thrown away, shouldn't he get out of his Master's house? Maybe Master was waiting until he left to come back to the house. Pet was probably being bad for staying there for so long. He was so selfish, not wanting to leave the comfort of the building for the scary outside world.

But he had to now. At least there would be food outside. And also cruel people, the cold, sickness, and probably death. But a bad pet like him deserved all of that, surely. He was such a rotten animal.

Pet's first steps outside were cautious and weak. He nearly stumbled from the sheer shock of it all.

He had done it. Ollie had done it. He couldn't believe this... this... this whole new world.

but it wasn't new, not really. It wasn't new at all. He just hadn't been here in a very long time, if ever.

He felt like he had stepped into a fantasy world after only hearing of it in fairytales. The outside world, the land beyond the kitchen window, was never allowed to him before. It might as well be something that only existed in legend.

- - -

Ollie sat huddled under the bridge, violently shivering. He hadn't eaten in two, maybe three days? He didn't know.

He was cold, wet, tired, and starving. He deserved all of it for leaving his Master's house. He should've accepted his fate and died there.

He was horrible.

- - -

Earlier in the day, Ollie had run away from some police. It was only because he was so small and capable of hiding that he got away. His muscles were very weak as of late, so he could've been easily caught. He'll have to be more careful next time.

But now, because of all the distance he had worked hard to put between him and the officers, Ollie had found himself in an entirely new area.

It was late at night, so restaurants had probably thrown out their leftovers already. If only he could find a place and dumpster dive for spare food.

As he wandered, he spied yet another cop. He was so frightened that he ran into the first available hiding place he saw: a bright, bustling building. He hadn't been thinking. He was so stupid. He dashed in and joined the crowds, trying to hide himself in the large group.

When someone first noticed him, in his dirty, smelly, roughed-up state with no shoes, she shrieked and backed up so fast she bumped into a man, who fell on a waiter, who spilled two glasses of wine they had been carrying.

Soon enough, everyone was in a great commotion, trying to get away from Ollie and call security.

The pet began to cry, overwhelmed and tired and hungry and not at all wanting to deal with this. He was sorry, he was, and he would do whatever they wanted to make up for it. Just please don't hand him over to the police. Please. He didn't know what they'd do to him, and he wasn't eager to find out.

The guards approached Ollie and he fled, going deeper into the crowd, until he tripped over his own feet and fell. He curled up and lay trembling on the floor, sobbing and so terrified.

He heard a bunch of people shuffle and he looked up to see the crowd part as a man walked through, headed straight for Ollie. This man didn't look like a security guard but rather was dressed in an expensive suit and had a stern, irritated expression.

When the man saw Ollie, however, his expression changed a bit. Ollie didn't know how to describe it, having never been looked at with such a visage. But it seemed less upset than the previous one, so that might be a plus? Maybe? Maybe this man won't kick Ollie as hard as he could, or won't insult him while throwing him out.

The man looked around.

"Whose pet is this?"

Of course, no one stepped forward. The man looked back at Ollie and asked if his owner was here. He shook his head.

"Are you lost?'

"Um, yeah... I-... I was abandoned, sir."

"Oh. I am very sorry to hear that. So you need a place to stay, then?"

Another nod. The man bent slightly and extended a hand. Ollie flinched away, bracing for a slap, but none came. He looked back and the hand was still there, just resting in the air. Ollie hesitated, but the man nodded encouragingly, and so Ollie took his hand and got helped up.

He whimpered as pressure was put on his ankle, then froze. He was bad.

His ankle must've been injured when he tripped, which was his fault, he shouldn't have run. And now he had the audacity to whimper?? He was so, so bad. This man would realize what a pathetic mutt he was and hurt him for it.

Glancing up fearfully, he saw that the man was indeed frowning. Ollie shrank back, hand slipping out of the man's grasp. He started shaking even harder.

"Oh dear, easy, it's alright," the man soothed. "I didn't mean to further injure your ankle by forcing you to stand. I will call a doctor for you immediately."

Did he think Ollie was upset because his ankle hurt? But.. why? Sure, the pain was intense now that he was trying to stand, but it was nothing compared to what he's been through.

"There's no need to be so concerned, sir. I'm alright. I can take it and more. I can take whatever you want me to."

The man frowned again and Ollie nearly cried.

"No, no, don't be ridiculous. I have no reason to harm you. You've done nothing wrong, dear. I don't want you to be unnecessarily hurt."

The man hesitated, then spoke again.

"That's not how I want one of my workers to be treated."

...

...what?

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I do not wish for you to be harmed, regardless of your status, but especially if you agree to work for me. You don't have a home or... employer, do you?"

"No, sir, I don't have either of those. But really, you don't have to, I'll only be a bother and a burden-"

"Nonsense. I have heard of how they train you guys. I'm sure you are wonderful. And besides, I am forgiving, I promise."

Ollie couldn't help but notice some of the crowd looked doubtful at that, which was very concerning. But at the same time, the man did not possess the same cruel glint in his eyes, the expression of deceit, the glee in waiting until the perfect moment to strike.

Of course, the man could just be better at hiding those things, or Ollie was dumber than he thought.

But what other choice did he have?

This person was offering him a lifeline, a chance at a new home and a new life. Ollie would die if he continued to be homeless. Maybe not right away, but he'd eventually catch an illness or upset someone or get caught, and then it'd be all over.

He didn't want to die.

"Okay. Of course, sir, I'd be happy to be your slave."

The man just nodded tight, and the pet was certain that he had already messed up.

But still, the man didn't do anything to him. Instead, he addressed the crowd.

"Apologies for the interruption," He announced, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. "I have urgent business to attend to with my worker, so I must leave. Enjoy the showing, it will continue until 10:30 PM as planned. My accountant will be handling any further purchases. Good night."

Then, looking back at his new slave again, Master spoke much softer.

"What is your name, dear?"

Oh god. Oh no. He knew what he was supposed to say, he knew he had to be good. He should tell the man that he can call him anything, even horrible insults, and the slave would readily accept it. He had to show his new owner that he could be good. But the man had asked. Please. The pet wanted to be allowed his name, his real name.

"Ollie, sir. My name is Ollie."

The man nodded, not seeming angry at the slave's terrible presumption that he could demand a free person use a particular name for him.

"I am Charles Durand, please to meet you, Ollie. Come with me. I'll help you to a couch to rest until the doctor arrives."

Given no other option, Ollie followed him, allowed to dangerously lean on his arm as he hobbled along.

Hopefully, this man wouldn't be too cruel to him.

— — —

Tag list: @whumpzone @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpsweetwhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @apples-and-whump @professional-idiocy @nicolepascaline @cowboy-anon @wolfeyedwitch @kim-poce @guachipongo @badluck990 @secretwhumplair @batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @morelikepainsley @catawhumpus @starfields08000 @mylovelyme

[howlsofbloodhounds]

If Delta got hurt badly during a fight, how do you think Color and Epic would react? Would Delta let them help if it was a bad injury?

I think Delta’s definitely the type of person who tries to hide his injuries to deal with by himself, and I also thinks he has a bit of a tendency to cry when he’s hurt once adrenaline washes away and he believes he’s alone, and he hates it. Hates being alone when he’s hurt too, but he justifies going off on his own because he has Beta with him, so he’s not alone.

All in all, Delta has a very big thing about not wanting to appear “weak,” like crying when hurt or being seen as unable to care for himself.

So if an injury is bad enough that he can’t pull himself up and hobble off somewhere to care for himself, he’s going to try and pretend he can. It will probably get even worse if Color is filled with kindness and kinda starts mother-henning for a moment, but thankfully Epic will be there to make jokes and tactfully keep Delta and Color calm and distracted.

Enough for Color to pull himself together, stabilize himself internally, and recognize that Delta is still alive and that henning over him isn’t helping. So he’ll keep himself calm, something he’s very good at, and then together he and Epic will begin moving Delta somewhere safe while attempting to keep him distracted.

Delta is unusually quiet and refusing to look anyone in the eye the entire time, and I can see him downplaying any pain he’s in or refusing to allow himself to be fed or accept help to go somewhere or to walk.

I feel he’s probably the type to refuse medication or painkillers—because he’s not in pain, obviously, just because he’s bleeding doesn’t mean he’s in pain—and would probably pretend to be asleep whenever someone enters his room to try and talk about something he doesn’t want to.

Beta keeps encouraging him to be brave, and Delta keeps taking it the wrong way, and the kiddo doesn’t realize there’s a miscommunication going on and they’re unintentionally encouraging his mindset of what it takes to be brave. And it’ll probably take Color, being filled with bravery, to inform Delta what Beta is trying to say; that accepting and allowing help when you need it is the brave thing to do.

How Epic and Color would react, would probably be attempting to hide their worry and concern from Delta because seeing such emotion in them, especially directed at him, makes Delta extremely uncomfortable and they both know it. So Epic will make his jokes and Color will make puns and bring Delta small things to tinker with while he helps heal his friend’s wounds slowly.

I think Delta would initially be the type to want to avoid showing any scars, viewing them as weakness, before he eventually comes to actually view them as signs of strength and power and survival.

And would probably ask Color to not heal all his wounds completely enough to avoid scarring—because if someone as strong as Color can walk around with that gaping head wound and scar across his chest, someone as strong as Epic can walk around with his scarred eye, Cross with scarred cheek and Killer with his exposed vulnerable SOUL and his entirely scarred body, then so can Delta!

So yeah, I think Delta is the type of guy to avoid appearing weak due to internalized ideas of what counts a men being “weak.”

But he also trusts and greatly respects his friends, as well as their strengths, and thus things he considers weak for himself to do, he has never once considered any of his friends as being weak for being hurt, scarred, or crying because they are all so very strong and brave for surviving and even thriving after everything they’ve all been through and he believes that deeply.

It’s more so that Delta has to figure out why the same doesn’t apply to himself, and he does also consider self growth a type of strength. He’s never been afraid of learning and growing, nor of confronting and listening to other people’s perspectives, which is something that is also Color’s biggest strengths.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Kinkuary Day 3

AN: You all moved on but, I stayed here. This hair on him was so good, idc. Don't ask me where this came from because I couldn't tell you lmao. Also, at this point, these will come out when they come out lol but, I am still very much working on Kinkuary.

Synopsis: Namjoon has always joked that Jungkook has terrible self-preservation. Maybe he's right. And maybe Jungkook would willingly fall into your clutches every single time.

General tags and warnings: Jeon Jungkook x Fem! Reader, Jungkook and Reader are friends with benefits, hybrid au, bunny hybrid! Jungkook, fox hybrid! Reader and this is just pwp if I'm being honest.

Primary kink: Knife play (pretty heavy blood play too).

Smut tags and warnings: Dom! Reader, sub! Jungkook, knife play, blood play (Jungkook bleeding and Reader licking his blood), Jungkook being pretty masochistic and Reader being pretty sadistic, dirty talk, hints of primal play, handjob (m. receiving), slight overstimulation (m. receiving), very mild degradation (m. receiving), some praise (m. receiving) and petnames.

Word count: 1.3k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Jungkook isn't sure how he wound up here.

Well, that's not entirely true. He does know how he ended up in your bed. Again. However, he'd rather not validate Namjoon's relentless teasing so, he prefers to feign ignorance.

“Am I boring you? You seem distracted,” you purr into his throat, your sharp canines lightly dragging along his jugular with enough pressure to speed up his heartbeat. He shakes away thoughts of his best friend, “No I– I was just thinking about something work related. I'm sorry.”

“Aw, I guess I really am boring you if you're thinking about work right now,” he can't see your face but, he can see your faux pout as clear as day. The apology he's about to stutter out is interrupted by a choked moan when your hand drifts to cup him through his slacks. His hips buck up into your hand without his say so but, based on the way you nuzzle into him and giggle, you don't seem to mind all that much.

“You're so cute, bunny,” Jungkook hates that nickname with a burning passion but, he can't bring himself to feel anything except affection when you call him that. A gasp flies out of his mouth when he feels the familiar cool, sharp edge of one of your blades. His eyes fly open, his ears twitching insistently and his instincts screaming at him to run. Get away. Anything. However, he shoves them down and bends his neck to allow you more access. His cock throbbing in the confines of his boxers.

Desire twists in the pit of his stomach when you add more pressure. The familiar sting of your blade prompts his lashes to flutter, his body practically crumples against your chest and god, it's been too long since he's let you have him like this if a single press of your knife is enough to render him so dizzy already. He groans when you drag it along his skin. Strong hands gripping your thighs to steady himself somehow while your other hand focuses on unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

“You're so pretty, Kookie,” you whisper so softly that he almost misses it. The praise shoots straight down his spine to his already hard cock. His head lolling back slightly and a throaty whimper leaving his lips when your hand finally manages to free him from his boxers and slacks. His hips jerk when you wrap your hand around as much of him as you can. That does make him crack his eyes open. The sight of your pretty hand wrapped his slick cock adds even more fuel to the want building in his veins.

“Please,” he heaves, squeezing his eyes shut when you tighten your grip around him but, do nothing else. Your blade dragging down his throat until it reaches his shirt. He should be a little more upset at you using your knife to cut it open but, he honestly can't bring himself to care much right now. Especially with each brush of the blade against his bare chest. Fuck. He never thought he'd miss it this much.

“Please what, bunny?” You ask into his shoulder. A large part of him admires your ability to multitask. He has no idea how you can focus on more than one action at a time right now but, you have always been better at keeping yourself together than him. He tries to access his brain to think of something to say to you. He's sure you can feel him throbbing in your hand but, you have always had a bit of a sadistic edge.

“I– please. I'm so hard. Wanna cum so bad, please,” he whines, turning his head until his lips meet yours. It's incredibly uncomfortable but he couldn't care less. You kiss him back with so much ferocity that he's lucky he doesn't get swept away from the sheer force. Your canines nip his lip harshly enough to draw blood and, he can't tell who moans louder. You swallow all of his sounds of pleasure when your hand does finally grant him some relief. Your strokes are unforgiving from the get go. The slick sounds of it echoing throughout your bedroom. The only thing keeping him from fucking your fist like he so desperately wants to is the blade being dragged across his abdomen.

For a brief moment, he wonders if it would be completely insane for him to fuck your hand anyway. Letting the blade press and press into his skin until it draws blood.

If you notice the way he throbs in your grasp at the thought, you don't mention it.

“Can't wait to mark you up,” you mutter against his bruised and bloodied lips. Pressing your knife deeper into his skin enough for the pain to add to the foggy state of his mind. The faint lines you leave across his stomach sting a little but, it's nothing he can't handle. If anything, it's not enough.

“More, please,” he whimpers, gently grasping your wrist and pressing the blade further and further into his skin until it hurts. You make a noise so animalistic that it sends up his prey warning signals briefly but, he resists. He knows he can trust you. Against all instinct and better judgement probably but, he'd let you make him bleed as much as you want to.

“I didn't realise you were such a pain slut,” you laugh and the sight of his blood painting your lips is far, far too attractive. He's getting dangerously close and he can't help but, feel a twinge of embarrassment. Has it really been so long that your hand and a few cuts of your knife are enough for him to already be teetering so close to the edge? God, he's pathetic.

“Just missed you. Missed this,” he gasps, his hips snapping into your grasp when you quicken your pace. Electricity building in the base of his spine and sending sparks to his extremities while you drag your knife up to his throat. If he wasn't sitting on it, you'd see the way his tail wags excitedly at the mere suggestion of your actions. “Gonna cum. Wanna cum so bad, please please please–”

His release slams into him like a train when you dig your knife into his neck enough for him to bleed. Droplets run down his chest but, he's too preoccupied with projecting out of his body somewhere into the galaxy to pay too much attention to them. His body folds into itself when you continue to stroke him through his orgasm. Wringing as much of his thick cum out of him as possible and painting his stomach and thighs white with it all.

“Too much, too much, too much,” he gasps out once he's able to put words together. Jolting away from your hand and sagging against you once you grant him mercy and stop stroking him. Sticky with a mix of his blood and his cum, all he can do for now is try and steady his breathing and piece himself back together while you lap at his neck and stroke his arm with your unfairly soft tail.

“Don't fall asleep on me yet, bunny,” you tease him and that's when he realises he shut his eyes who knows how long ago. Blinking them open, he's greeted with the sight of his blood smeared on your lips and chin. Your ears twitching pleasantly when you absentmindedly lick at what you can reach with your tongue.

Maybe Namjoon is right.

Maybe he is just the dumbest bunny hybrid alive who willingly puts himself in the clutches of a woman who could end him in a heartbeat. However, now, while he comes back to himself and feels his cock starting to jump back to life at the vision you create, maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Kinkuary Masterlist | BTS Masterlist | Ko-fi.

[bonefall]

Oh I ADORE the idea of a Bumble/Star Flower dynamic. I always imagine Star Flower to have this sweet and soft exterior to her that allows her to manipulate Clear Sky, but is in actuality a cold, solemn, purpose-minded cat who takes no shit. Her geniunely taking interest in this sweetheart kitty who's full of confidence (and probably hates Clear Sky's guts as much as she does LMFAO) is so intriguing pleaaaaase tell me more ❤️

At the moment it's just sort of indulgence because I think their dynamic is interesting, so I haven't completely leaned onto it yet. I probably will though.

What I like a lot about them is that they're so different, yet so alike. They're both victims of their canon's misogyny, in opposite ways. It killed Bumble and prevented Star Flower from being what she could fully be.

In BB, Star Flower was the high priestess of One Eye, in one way, a daughter in others. He was violent and controlling. She was charming and capable. She did exactly what he wanted from her, and she enjoyed being his devotee. They loved each other like a parent and child, and for him, she would stay blind to the pain in the world.

Because she KNOWS that what she does hurts and kills people. Clear Sky isn't the first cat she's skilfully bled out slowly. But when her God is involved, this is not a terrified, screaming person on an altar. It's meat to be prepared for her beloved father.

And as long as she has One Eye to serve, she doesn't have to think about the humanity that is part of her new form. In a way, she's the same extinct medicinal flowers she used to be, before she took a shape as a mortal. She's his treatment. His bouquet. The flowers at a funeral.

And that's a kind of toxic dynamic, too, yknow. To love someone who merely offers you the simplicity of being their butcher.

How could she ever have prepared for his DEATH? To be SEPARATED from him? She is like an angel separated from her lord, whose one purpose has been destroyed.

And then she seduces Clear Sky, the treacherous beast who betrayed them. She'll bleed him like a goat, and be reunited with her father. And even more--

She'll offer it to Thunderstar, too! He understands her anger! Skystar is a snake who's bitten him as well. He will be grateful. There will be more who worship the warmth of the God of Summer, just like her.

But he rejects it, and you know why?Because he's had a toxic dad too.

Not one he loved like she did her own, but it gave him the clarity to realize that sacrificing Skystar HERE, after being backstabbed at his lowest point and suffering for hours, to bring a MONSTER back into the world, would just be revenge.

...and revenge is what Star Flower wants, too. She's hurt, but doesn't recognize that emotion.

(Still working out the climax of Thunderstar's Justice. I'm thinking that One Eye pops up, half-ressurected, and turns on Star Flower for his last sacrifice and Thunderstar saves her from that)

And after that, she can't go back to SkyClan. Of course.

When she speaks to Bumble for the first times, Star Flower is still threatening betrayals. Insisting, chuckling, that she's done Terrible Things and will do them again.

And Bumbs clocks immediately, "You're doing that to get a rise out of me and it won't work because no one would tease their secret evil scheme."

Bumble is going through a lot right now, actually. Thunderstar is getting good at speaking Parkmew on his own, now. Sparrow Heart, her daughter, betrayed her to join SkyClan in the pursuit of power. Her son Pebble Heart goes by Owl Eyes these days, and he's a big strong warrior who doesn't need her. It seems like no one needs her.

She talks a big game about her self-worth, but a lot of it is bluster and self-assurance. She'll insist she's the BEST AND COOLEST CAT THIS SIDE OF THE EVERYWHERE but she's hiding a LOT of guilt, none of it deserved.

I feel like Star Flower is fascinated by this. The dishonesty here. How Bumble presents herself as boisterous and over-confident, but hides a great sadness within it.

Ahh, Bumble wants a God to serve too, doesn't she? Everyone does. Is a Clan a sort of God to serve? ...yes, this is making sense.

For Bumble to Star Flower... she's brand new, an outsider just like she was once. A very strange one with strange humor, who exists at a time when her life is undergoing a lot of changes. She likes the way Star Flower is so interested in her. She enjoys showing her around the territory.

God, sometimes it just... it reminds her of Turtle Heart, you know? Before Tom came. When it was just them, and they were young and they were learning all these wonderful things together.

It never got better, really, losing her lover and her best friend. She's just been GO GO GOing for years, GO out of this Clan, GO get your kittens, GO open negotiations. It wasn't until NOW that she's really had time to process the loss of Turtle Heart.

And that's sort of where they are, now. There's not really an end in sight, they're just very involved and interested in each other. Not quite courting, but not NOT courting either. Sappho and her acquaintance lmao.