#so much has been added to flesh out parts that I rushed before

[strawbubbysugar]

The original So(u)l fanfic was 134,362 words and 70 Chapters

The So(u)l Project is (so far) 151,483 words and 25 chapters

[md-confessions]

Murder Drones could have been a lot better if Doll was never introduced into the plot or straight up didn't exist.

Before you light up the torches, I will remind you that I love Doll to death. I'm the guy who made an entire map of posts on the character + a handful of analyses about a lot of her different aspects; this isn't a hot idea that I made up right now, it's something I've been thinking about for a long time, and unfortunately I must finally admit it publicly.

Much like episode 7 completely recontextualised Tessa up to this point, it did the same thing with Doll, but in a negative way, her rushed demise didn't just destroy all of the future potential that she had, no, it did way worse than that: it ruined every single one of her previous scenes, as now all of them fell pointless since she was just a plot device for V and Cyn's development and not a character in her own right.

Now, while all of this is arguably completely true and factual, you might still say, why do you want to eliminate her? She still was a pretty awesome character with a large chunk of the fanbase fawning over her and could still come back for a better exploration of her character and potential.

And to that, I'll have to ask you to look at the bigger picture: Murder Drones, as it is right now, it's kind of an unfortunate mess.

Liam Vickers rushed everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in order for us to reach the part of the plot that he wanted to show, when he could have just simply narrated a simpler, smaller story with less emphasis on the lore and more on the characters. He should have known when to let go of some stuff for the betterment of the series, instead he's just trying to tell everything while rushing to the finish line and without flashing out any particular aspect of it.

While in my mind I would have just gone for a simpler, lower stakes story, I won't deny the fact that this is clearly not what Liam Vickers would have done; so, if an end of the world narrative is what he was trying to tell, he should have disregarded the high school setting even MORE than what he ended up doing.

I would have had Uzi, V and N get kidnapped by an alien/solver thing so that they would be forced into space by the ending of episode 3, and used episode 2 and the first half of episode 3 to flesh out Thad and Khan, so that we could feel the impact of the protagonist being forced out of her home. Then, the rest of whatever Liam has planned for season 2 would have happened.

If it weren't for Doll, I wouldn't be as obsessed with Murder Drones as I am right now; for me at least, she was the selling ticket for the series, but it's clear that Liam had to eliminate some aspects of his show to tell the narrative that he wanted to, and if that aspect wasn't the lore, then it had to be the characters, and Doll plus maybe her family depending on what Yeva is going to do if she were to come back are at the top of the chopping block list. Lizzie is important for V's development, Thad was already obliterated out of relevance but I'm curious on what he's going to do in ep 8, J shouldn't have returned if she was going to be irrelevant again but I still think that she wasn't wasted as long as she's still alive.

Liam could have just simply created another plot device to force V to develop and the raptor scene to happen, so even from that storytelling aspect, Doll was completely and utterly worthless to begin with.

op added:

[catastrophicclouds]

Have some Kurogiri in these trying times. These last few volumes of MHA have been hitting hard, so I had to draw one of my favourite comfort characters. I also have a prediction for Kurogiri’s fate, but I’ll put that below the cut (major spoiler warning).

I was experimenting with different brushes and line weights, and I’m really happy with how they turned out. I can see myself doing more of these greyscale drawings in the future, so I’ll just have to see what inspires me next.

Most people I’ve seen so far are sure that Kurogiri/ Shirakumo died after getting blasted by Bakugo. But honestly, I’m not so sure of that. What Bakugo blasted was a separate portal and not Kurogiri, himself, so Kurogiri should still be safe where he was standing in the distance. And I know with how rushed the Rooftop Gang’s story has been in the last arc of MHA, it doesn’t seem likely that they’ll get a complete, fleshed out ending. However, even though there isn’t a lot of time before the story ends, I get the feeling that they’ll have more of a resolution than we initially thought.

There have been a few interesting points about Kurogiri in the last couple of volumes that I wanted to point out. First, we saw him practically melting in front of Mic and Aizawa ever since he joined them on the battlefield. This points to his body being very unstable in a way we hadn’t seen before. When Mic and Aizawa got through to Shirakumo, the shape of his mist would change, and eventually, part of it turned white when Shirakumo had fully woken up. But this being such a different reaction points to Kurogiri’s melting as having a different cause. I speculate that it’s because of his nomu body acting up rather than him waking up and having an identity crisis. Recently, he’s been constantly sedated in both a high end prison and a hospital so that he wouldn’t use his quirk to escape. He was tested on and examined a lot for the sake of research and finding out his true identity. Then, when he escaped the hospital, he teleported up to Mic and Aizawa, all while his body was freaking out, to teleport them away. After a behind the scenes reconciliation (?) with his best friends, he proceeded to open up a million different portals so more heroes could make it to the battlefield, eventually joining them there. That’s a lot of stress for his body to be under, to say the least, so it’s no wonder he’s having a hard time keeping himself together at this point. And now, with the extra weight of his two lives clashing together, Kurogiri has the added emotional stress on top of it. My man’s been through it all.

The next point I wanted to mention was how we saw his portal starting to deteriorate when he reached out to save Shigaraki. It looked like literal pieces of it were breaking off in shards while others were dissolving in the air, more like ashes from a bonfire than mist. So not only is his physical body suffering, but so is his nomu-engineered quirk. This is where the point of these details all comes together.

For one, nobody in the manga has mentioned either of these things out loud. I know a lot of creators like to leave smaller details for their audiences to pick up and piece together themselves, but for these details to be so incredibly obvious to the viewer, I’m certain that they’ll come up again later. And for them to come up, the story will also have to focus back on the Rooftop Gang. Not only that, but I doubt they would leave Mic and Aizawa (Aizawa especially), two fan favourites, just hanging like that at the very end of the series. What happened to Kurogiri will have to be brought up eventually. There may not have been as much attention on him in the final arc as there should have, but giving him and the gang some sort of conclusion would only make sense at this point and is practically inevitable.

And then to my last point, which is just my own speculation based on what we’ve already seen and my own thoughts over everything. I don’t think Kurogiri has a very hopeful ending for him. Midnight’s dead, most of the league is dead, Shigaraki who was almost like his own son is dead, a large part of the city is destroyed, last I checked, all of U.A. or at least a decent bit of it was destroyed, his own body is failing, and his two lives are merging together in a way that would make continuing to live very complicated for him. That is to say if he lived at all. With how totalled his body seems at the moment, a part of me doubts that he’ll be able to come back from that, not to mention his death being an easy way to a smoother plot. And even if he did, he’d have to finish school (which isn’t as much of a problem), decide whether he still wants to be a hero, figure out with Mic and Aizawa where they want to go from there (if they’ll still be as close of friends or friends at all), and live in a society that knows he was a villain at some point and would likely still treat him badly because of it. I doubt that just because the show is ending, everyone will get their own “happily ever after”, so it’s still possible that we’ll get a few more tragedies before it’s officially over. A part of me believes there’s a chance that Kurogiri will be able to live, figure out who he is now as a person, become a hero, and start that hero agency with Mic and Aizawa like they’d wanted. But as of right now, when volume 424 just came out, it’s looking like he might die in the end. If that’s the case, I’m sure he’ll be able to talk with Mic and Aizawa and get some closure before it happens, probably the good kind.

But whatever happens, I hope he’ll be happy in the end. I’d love to see what he would do with his friends if he got to live, maybe come to work at U.A. or they’d all leave for the agency (which I doubt since Mic and Aizawa really care about U.A. and its students). I’m also interested in what he would do with the surviving league members when everything cleared up. As a Kuropress/ Black Magic enjoyer, I hope we’ll see Kurogiri and Mr. Compress interacting a little bit, even if it’s not relationship related.

Well, that turned out to be more of an essay than I thought it would. As I said, most of this is speculation based on what I know about storytelling and what’s happened in the story so far. I can’t say for certain any of this will happen or even be relevant in the final volumes, but as far as I know, there’s a good chance some of these points will be touched on or even happen in the story. Here’s to hoping.

[bluestar22x]

Mr. Henley

The Rockford Files - Mr. Henley

Summary: A rich man is murdered and you and Tim must figure out which of his family members poisoned him.

Pairing: Tim Rockford x F!Reader (both in their mid/late 40s)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 13,800 (ish)

Warnings: Smut (w/no protection), violence, a very angry ghost, inaccurate detective work, medical examiner gore, fictionally speedy DNA results, and a mention of euthanizing a pet (cat).

Author's Note: This part was a long time coming - I almost didn't finish it in October. Ack! But it was worth it. I think I'm happy with the results. This has some inspiration from the Merge Mansion ads. I'm not sorry. Also, it seems 2nd parts are for smut in my little writing world. I have a pattern. ha

xxx

October 10, 1996 (Thursday)

You felt like you were being driven straight into a horror movie setting. An early morning fog encroaching on the long, deserted winding road that led to a Victorian styled gate with golden decals. Tim stopped his car at the front and you noted the number twenty-six that was painted onto one of the stone walls the gate was attached to. You were at the right address. You just weren't sure that you wanted to be.

Tim slid out of the driver's side, leaving his door open as he approached the gate with the key he'd been handed earlier by Chief Bronson, opening it up and letting the gate swing widely inward on its own.

When he climbed back into the car you began tapping your fingers on your knees, unsure of what you’d soon be walking into.

It didn't take long for the sparsely colorful forest surrounding the driveway to clear into a neatly maintained lawn lined with pink rosebushes, spread out before a massive white mansion that looked as old as the gate, although they likely hadn't been built earlier than a half a century ago.

Rich people, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes at the obvious choice the owners had made to flaunt their money. Nobody in American history who had owned such a home had ever actually needed over thirty rooms to themselves. Most people who'd had twenty plus children couldn't afford a mansion.

"We have an hour before we have to be back at the department to question the family," Tim reminded you after parking the car, as if you needed to be.

You just nodded at him. A year ago you would've rolled your eyes, thinking he was being impatient, trying to rush you, but you'd learned with time he just worried about being late. He was a reliable person. If he could help it, he was always on time. You couldn't say the same, and you'd butted heads with him more than once over it, but eventually you'd both decided it wasn't worth it.

He fixed the position of the dark rimmed glasses that rested over the bridge of his nose (a recent addition to his attire, much to his dismay) and followed you as you strolled up the marble steps leading to the heavy looking white front door. After he used another key to unlock it you shoved the door open and stepped inside.

You didn't know enough about mansions and fancy furniture, but you knew enough to know that everything inside was mind boggling expensive. The trims were definitely made from real gold. The living room was the size of your whole apartment.

And everything was spotless - except for the dining room you headed straight for like a woman on a mission. Even though it was just you and Tim in the house, at the moment, you didn't want to give the mansion's owner the satisfaction of you having gawked at the place.

The only sign something had gone wrong in the dining room was the yellow tape and the bowl of cereal that was still, disgustingly, out on the glass table, half full of soaked flakes and rotting milk. The stench made you block your nose.

At least the body had already been picked up by Joe while the rest of the Forensics team had scoured the mansion. And the man had been found fairly quickly after his death, so the room didn't also smell like rotting flesh. You always tried to look at the bright side of things.

"I see Elliot Henley was a Frosted Flakes kind of guy," you observed humorously. "It's kind of comforting that corn flakes could potentially unite the rich and poor."

Tim snorted quietly at that, amusement sparking in his normally serious eyes. You beamed back at him. You'd taken a liking to trying to make him laugh with you rather than at your expense, like it had been at first. You were getting better at it.

"You getting any vibes, Psy?"

Where once that nickname had been at your expense, it had long since turned friendly, and in turn, you'd grown fond of it. Only from him though.

"Nothing yet," you replied with a sigh, "I'm not even creeped out by the knowledge that a dead man was sitting at this table at eight o'clock last night, face planted right on the table alongside this very bowl."

Tim arched his eyebrows, surprised. "That once bothered you?"

"It still bothers me often enough," you admitted. "I got this job because of my gift, not because of my tolerance for being around dead bodies. You?"

He shrugged. "It got better with time. It's rare a case really shakes me up."

You know exactly what kind of case shakes him up after Annie. Anything with kids. For most people in your field of work, that was the line, but it was especially true for him.

You hadn't asked Tim about his sister. You didn't need to. Helen had given you more than enough information and it wasn't your business. He was your partner, a friend, you might even dare say, but your relationship was very professional and that meant you didn't get to be nosy.

"I'm going to take a walk through the whole place, alone," you decided, "Just in case he's shy. But it's quite possible Elliot's already moved on. Even if our suspicions turn out right, that he didn't just die of a stroke or heart attack, that doesn't mean he'd linger. You know how it goes."

Tim gave you a quick nod. After working over two dozen cases with you he did know enough of how things worked, or at least how you believed things worked, since you'd yet to convince him your mind wasn't conjuring up these spirits.

Stubborn man.

He left to stand by the main entrance while you wandered room to room, trying to keep your mind focused solely on your surroundings, without paying too much attention to how absurdly "classy" everything was.

You walked the east wing first, finding Elliot's mother's room at the far end. Everything was so white it was near blinding. It felt too clean. Unlived in, except for the hairbrush with silver hair intertwined in the bristles that lay on the desk in the corner of the room next to a big bay window.

You wondered if the room had always been this way or if it had only become so sterile after her husband had died.

You concluded that it probably had always been that way when you searched the west wing and found Elliot's room to be in a similar shape, and the same for his older brother's.

Like many rich kids who hadn't worked a day of their youth away because of their parents' wealth, Elliot and Richard Henley had stuck around after they graduated high school, even into their late thirties.

It was interesting to you that Hazel, their mother, had them stay in a separate wing. For privacy or because she couldn't stand them? Either option was likely. Maybe it was for both reasons.

It took you a half hour to thoroughly check each room and give time for any presence to make themselves known, but none did, and with a long sigh you headed down the hall to return to Tim's side.

He was leaning against the door, arms folded, clearly trying to be patient, but still appearing annoyed. When he spotted you moving towards him he grunted. "Took you long enough."

"There's a lot of rooms," you said defensively.

He dropped his arms to his sides. "Please tell me you at least got something."

You shook your head apologetically and he groaned. "Great. So, this was a bust."

"Mostly, yeah," you agreed. "But I did find out that Hazel sleeps as far away from her sons' rooms as possible."

"They probably partied late into the night," Tim guessed.

It was as good of a guess as yours, but for some reason your intuition was screaming at you that there was something more to it, and in your experience it was wise not to ignore it. You'd definitely have some questions to ask the family when you got back to the police department.

Tim gestured to the door and you both stepped outside together, back onto the porch. As he locked the door again, a gust of wind ripped through the sheltered area and you shivered. It could have been just from the cold weather, but normal wind didn't usually make your skin crawl.

You glanced around warily and Tim noticed. His eyes filled with concern at your discomfort. "You sense something now?"

"That gust didn't feel right," you informed him, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth and a sense of security. "Too cold for the season." You snuggled your nose into the wool jacket you were wearing.

His eyebrows furrowed at that. "What does that mean to you?"

"If Elliot's spirit caused that sudden gust of wind," you hesitated, not wanting it to be so, "Which I'm almost certain of, he's furious at something. Probably someone. Not necessarily who killed him. I've had several cases where the spirit was upset about something that happened right before they were murdered, since sometimes they aren't aware enough to remember what happened to them." You bit your lip. "Angry spirits aren't discriminatory. They want to lash out, get revenge, and it doesn't matter who's on the other end of their fury, as long as they are affected. Not everyone is, but sensitives like me are."

"You've been hurt by spirits before?" The lines between Tim's brows deepened. You wondered how much of it was from disbelief and how much was from genuine concern, but the fact there was concern at all was nice.

"No, I haven't had a spirit hurt me physically," you answered. "But they're great at causing nightmares and I had one purposely spook me into stumbling backwards. I was at the top of a flight of stairs."

You could've sworn a flicker of fear flashed in his eyes in reaction to what you'd disclosed, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. "Let's get you out of here then."

You didn't need to be told twice.

x

The first stop you and Rockford made after returning to the department was the Forensics Division to check for updates. You sought out Joe, finding him in the basement examining Elliot's body.

It was your first time seeing Mr. Henley outside the few family photos that had been scattered about in the mansion, and it was unsettling. It wasn't the first time you'd walked in on an autopsy, but it was the first time you'd seen a brain outside a body, in the gloved hands of the medical examiner. Your stomach did a little flip at the sight, and you tried to keep your eyes from directly looking at it and Elliot's open skull after.

"Got anything for us, Joe?" Tim inquired.

The rail thin man continued his study of Elliot's brain while he spoke. "I've got enough. Elliot here had a cardiac event. Some of his heart valves are damaged. But it wasn't natural. And my conclusion has nothing to do with him being thirty-five. Look at this."

Joe placed Elliot's brain back into his head and pointed out some dark pigmentation scattered on his skin and under his nails. "Hyperpigmentation." He pulled out a kidney that was sliced in half. Even for one that belonged to a deceased person it didn't look too healthy. "Renal damage. Any guesses as to what happened to him?"

You frowned as you pondered over it. A lot of things could cause these symptoms. But there were few that would make Joe behave this way. "Poison," you said in unison with Tim. You both glanced at each other. "Jinx," you declared, chuckling. He grunted.

"Arsenic to be exact," Joe told you, theatrically gesturing to his desktop computer in the corner of the room. "The blood results were positive for it. The hair samples are still being studied to figure out when the poisoning began, but by the evidence it seems it has been a long while."

"Arsenic is natural though," Tim pointed out. "He could have ingested too much of it by mistake through drinking water or food."

"Ah." Joe nodded. "Yes. But a very high dose was in the milk sample we took from his bowl this morning. That's not typical of pasteurized, grade A milk. Guessing he wasn't dying fast enough for whoever was adding it to his diet so they threw caution to the wind. Funny enough though, the high dose wasn't in him long enough to be the reason his heart failed. That was from the previous attempts stacking up."

"Please tell me someone's on their way to pick up that bowl before someone else gets dosed by accident," you said, though you were certain no one would dare eat from that disgusting bowl.

"Katie's on her way to rectify our mistake of leaving it behind," Joe assured you.

"Do you know if he sought out any medical attention?" Tim asked.

"I called the local hospital," Joe stated, "His primary care doctor works there, but hasn't seen him in two years and he hasn't shown up in the Emergency Room ever. I have no doubt he was suffering for weeks from this, but for whatever reason he never went to the hospital. Maybe he had nosocomephobia?" He shrugged.

"What's that?" you questioned, squinting at him in confusion.

"It's an intense fear of going to the hospital," Tim informed you. "My great tia Lucia had that phobia. She broke a hip one time, fully separated it. Despite the pain, she insisted it couldn't be broken even as she tried and failed to stand over and over. My grandmother was with her at the time."

"That's awful," you remarked, mouth agape. You'd never broken anything before, but you knew hip fractures were one of the worst breaks a person could have. She should have been seized up with pain.

"Fear is pain's greatest competitor," Joe told you solemnly.

Tim tilted his head in his direction.

"So, who do we think did it?" you quizzed. "It must be someone in the family, right?"

"Usually is," Tim replied. "Hazel would be most likely."

"Isn't their mother like eighty?"

"Seventy-eight," Tim corrected you. "And it doesn't take a body builder to kill someone by poison. You should know murderers come in all shapes and sizes and ages."

"Of course." And it wouldn't be the first time you'd helped investigate a murder where the mother killed their child.

"Anything else?" Tim asked Joe.

Joe shook his head. "I'll let you know if there's anything else useful to you as the results come in."

"Time for the interrogations then," you figured.

Tim was already halfway out the door.

x

Upon your arrival at the Homicide Division, Pete Woodward, a young, eager homicide detective-in-training approached you and Tim. Practically flew at you, really. "We've got Hazel and Richard Henley in separate interrogation rooms, ready to talk with you, Rockford. Victim's sisters will be in at noon."

Having lived in the same home, being family, Hazel and Richard were the priority to talk to. They'd been brought in as soon as the investigation had begun, though not officially arrested since there wasn't any solid proof either one of them had motive to kill Elliot yet.

You followed Tim into the first room finding Richard standing inside in a corner, looking bored out of your mind. You wouldn't have expected that from a man that had just lost his brother. Maybe suspect number two was actually the murderer?

"You want to take a seat Mr. Henley?" Tim inquired, gesturing at the gray chair across from yours and his as you both sat down.

"Call me Dick," Richard told him, plopping down on it.

"Really?" You couldn't help the slipped comment. You just didn't understand why anyone would be willing to take on that nickname, especially as a rich person. Did he not notice the possible implications of using it?

Richard either didn't hear you or didn't care; either way he paid you no attention. Tim's eyes however did dart to you for a second before he cleared his throat. "This conversation is going to be recorded, Dick. Is that alright?"

"Whatever you must do, detective. I've got nothing to hide."

Tim pressed record on the voice recorder to his left. "What can you tell us about your brother?"

Richard snorted. "Besides him being a hopeless lazy leech?"

"Aren't you also living with your mother?" you countered.

"I work," Richard informed you defensively, "I only moved back in because I recently got divorced and my new home hasn't been finished yet."

"Uh huh." You'd barely started talking with him and you were already starting to lean more towards him as Elliot's killer than their mother. He had clearly held disdain for his younger brother. That was a pretty good motive.

"Did your brother have any enemies?" Tim questioned.

Richard shrugged. "None that I know of, except his own damn self. He was a loner, mostly. Spent a lot of time online playing games."

"Do we dare ask you how he was with your family, with you?" you inquired.

He chuckled and leaned back. "He was Dad's favorite when he was alive, for some damn reason. Mom loves him out of duty. Our sisters and him get along fine but they don't hang out."

"And you and him?"

"I don't like him not putting in any effort to make his own life," Richard told you, eyes narrowing, "But I wasn't upset enough over it to kill him, if that's what you're wondering."

"We have to consider every possibility," Tim explained to him. "Murders often are committed by those closest to the victim."

"So it is murder?" Richard asked, pursing his lips. "You sound certain."

"We've got evidence that suggests Elliot was slowly poisoned with Arsenic," Tim replied, "Found some in his bowl of cereal."

Richard's eyes widened. "Shit."

"Who normally fed him his meals?" you prompted.

He frowned. "He usually made his own cereal whenever he chose to eat later at night."

"Was he the only one in the house who drank two percent milk?"

His jaw slacked a little. "Yes. Mom and I drink whole milk. You think maybe whoever did this poisoned the whole bottle?"

"I only just considered it now," you admitted. Your eyes flicked to Tim. "Looks like Katie's going to have to bring the jug in now too."

"I'll call her," he said, standing up as he dialed Katie's number and leaning against the wall as he explained to her that she needed to go back to the mansion a third time in less than half a day.

Poor Katie, you thought.

"Who besides you and your mother have access to the fridge on a regular basis?" you pressed.

"The cook, maid, the gardener, the whole family," Richard listed. "None of them have motive to do it."

"That's for us to decide," you told him as Tim sat back down.

Richard turned to him. "Anything else you want to know?"

"Plenty," he said, lifting his eyes to meet Richard's. "Where were you this morning?"

x

It was nearly a half hour later when Tim finished with Richard, letting him go with a warning to not skip town. You were ready to feel that twist in your stomach, your gut instinct, to tell you letting him go was a mistake, but you didn't get it. As much as you'd thought Richard's attitude towards his brother was bordering hate you didn't get murder vibes from him. His nickname suited him well, but being a dick didn't automatically make someone a killer.

The interrogation with Hazel, their frail appearing seventy-eight-year-old mother who looked every bit like the grandmother to four she was, went similarly to the one with Richard. Although Hazel did not share the anger Richard had towards Elliot, she wasn't shedding any tears either. It was so odd to you. You'd had a shaky relationship with your mother before she passed, but you still had felt the loss after she died. You'd still sobbed when she was laid to rest in the cemetery of your hometown. You'd heard of people being numb at first to loss, like they were in some kind of daze, but you doubted that was it.

You started to truly understand for the first time what kind of people tended to find themselves leading successful businesses. You didn't like what you saw.

"Mrs. Henley, did you hate your son?" you inquired boldly.

Her eyes grew wide. "Of course not. I wouldn't have let him stay home if I did. To most he was lazy, but he helped me around the property. Spent time in the garden with me every afternoon. Adopting him was the best decision I ever made."

For the first time in the last fifteen minutes you and Tim had been talking with her there was sadness in her eyes.

Maybe she isn't a psychopath after all, you mused.

"You adopted Elliot?" Tim prompted.

Hazel nodded. "We knew his biological mother. When she died, we decided to take him in, treat him as our own. It's what friends do."

"So kind of you," you said, trying to sound sincere. You couldn't help but think that there was something more; that there was no way this lady had adopted a child out of the goodness of her heart. Adopting him had probably come with tax breaks or something like that.

Elliot and Richard's older sisters, Heidi and Jeanine, who were both in their forties, blonde, and mothers to two children each, all in their teens, weren't much better than Hazel and Richard, clearly not much more than spoiled trophy wives to their rich husbands.

"Maybe Elliot poisoned himself," Heidi suggested, "He didn’t have a lot going for him, you know? I loved him, but he was always the mess up of the family. It had to have eaten at him."

"My brother was kind, but didn't make anything of himself," Jeanine said later during the interview with her. "I'd think him committing suicide makes more sense than murder. None of my family are capable of that."

The linear ceiling light above started blinking furiously above the three of you and you felt the air get thick with tension that was cutting knife worthy. Anger. Your breathing picked up to compensate for the lack of oxygen getting to your lungs. You shivered as a draft hit the back of your neck. Out of habit your eyes darted to and fro, looking for danger but finding nothing visible.

You knew he was there though, watching, and he was trying to tell you his sisters' theories were way off. He definitely had not killed himself.

Tim and Jeanine clearly hadn't felt anything in the air change, surprised by the intense reaction you'd had to the lights flickering, but they had at least seen the lights go off. Once again Tim was studying you, expression trained. "You alright?"

"I'm okay," you answered, "Nothing new for me."

It was true it wasn't new, but it had still shaken you. Kind Elliot Henley seemed to have a lot of hate in his soul in the afterlife. You honestly couldn't blame him though. None of his family, even his sisters who were supposed to like him, had shed any tears in front of you and you were pretty sure shock couldn't account for any of it.

After the interviews were over, you and Tim headed to the office you shared.

"What a piece of work that family is," you muttered as he closed the door behind you. You turned on your heels to face him.

Tim nodded. "Sure is."

"I’m almost certain there's no way either Jeanine or Heidi murdered him though."

"Their alibis are too solid," he agreed. "And they sounded more like they pitied him than were angry at him."

"Exactly."

"We're still going to do a solid background check on them."

"Of course."

He sat down at his desk and you at the computer one, and you both got to work.

x

After thorough searching you and Tim uncovered that the Henley family were generally law-abiding citizens - except for a few speeding tickets (Richard) and a couple court cases for tax evasion by Hazel and her belated husband Roderick, one that had been proven and had ended with him being in prison for a few months. Not with the general population, of course. You'd bet his prison room had been private and clean. Safe.

Though the day had mostly been a bore, you still found yourself exhausted by the end of your twelve hour shift, not hesitating to turn down an invitation to eat out with the floor secretaries from Helen. All you wanted to do was make a sandwich, eat it, and go to bed, as much as you liked Helen.

And that's exactly what you did, not even taking time to read before bed like you typically did.

You startled awake just after midnight to a loud cracking sound. It sounded like one of your potted plants in the living room had been knocked down from one of the wall shelves and had broken when it hit the hardwood floor.

Back in your early thirties you'd taken in a smokey gray cat with stunning light green eyes named Blue that had been owned by a woman who had been murdered in a burglary gone wrong. He'd been a serial houseplant tipper. It had been almost guaranteed one of your houseplant pots would fall victim to him during the course of a week until you learned to tape the underneath of each one to the shelf beneath them.

In your sleep haze you figured he'd finally managed to knock one down, but after a few moments your mind caught up and you remembered that you'd had to give Blue’s vet permission to euthanize him over six years ago, his kidneys having failed at the ripe age of twenty.

Dread seized you, tightened your throat. Had someone broken in? Had you forgotten to lock the door? You were usually very careful about it, but you had been pretty tired.

You reached blindly under your bed for the handgun you kept there, locked away in a black box in the off chance you'd ever need it, and without switching on any lights loaded the chamber with a couple bullets before heading down the short hall with it, into the living room.

You turned the corner carefully, gun at the ready, finger curled right next to the trigger, but the room was clear, except for the spider plant and its pot that had shattered on the floor, spilling most of its dark gardening soil all over the surrounding floorboards.

You sucked in a deep breath and moved into the kitchen but no one was there either. There had to have been someone though. Unless there had been an earthquake, but one of that magnitude would've jostled you awake before the pot had fallen.

You felt it then. Him then. That eerie feeling of being watched by someone no longer quite human creeping under your skin, making you quake, as it often did.

Saying that you were alarmed would be an understatement. Bullets didn't harm spirits.

You slowly twisted around to find him there, looming smack in the middle of the start of your hallway, half hidden by the shadow of your fridge, barely seven feet from you. He was standing with a hunch in his back and an arm curled around his belly, a stance of someone with some kind of severe abdominal pain. His eyes did not hold any of that pain though. All you could see in them was rage.

It was the kind of expression that would make any sane person flee, especially since he wasn't a little guy, so that's what you did, bolting for your car keys on the table and then the front door.

Before you could make it out, as you were slipping through the doorway, you felt searing pain as something sharp dragged down your back, and you concluded in terror that he'd scratched you, all the while racing for your 1991 Taurus.

It wasn't until you'd already driven a mile out from your house that you were able to breath properly again. It was at that exact time the tears spilled from your eyes and everything that had happened during the previous ten minutes settled into your memory.

Elliot was severely pissed, feral. The worst kind of lost spirit. And it had taken him less than a day to get that way. It seemed that the kind man his family had described had hidden an inner darkness. Maybe he'd been successful in life at beating it down, but in death all bets were definitely off. You'd never known a spirit to lose control so fast, even those who had managed to attach themselves to their murderers.

And he'd clearly latched onto you, followed you home. It wasn't the first time a spirit had, but it was the first they could actually harm you to any degree by touch. You swallowed hard. You'd only temporarily escaped. He'd find you again. It would be instant if you returned home any time soon, so you drove around the city aimlessly for a couple hours, after hiding your gun in the glove compartment. You didn't have a concealed weapon permit, but you didn't think leaving it on the passenger seat was wise either if a patrol cop happened to pull you over.

It was past two when you found yourself rolling up into Tim's driveway, not sure where else to go. You knew where Helen lived too, but you did not want to chance dragging her into the mess you found yourself in. She was just a secretary. At least Tim had some training dealing with violent situations, not that it would help much in the face of a being he could not see, let alone hurt.

That was your reasoning at least as you studied the plain looking two-story house in front of you. It was encased in white painted wood where yours was in brick, but with the addition of that second floor it was bigger. Probably not much more expensive though. The house was old, aged by at least three decades where yours had been built less than a decade ago. The paint was also chipping, the outdoor upkeep of it clearly not a priority for him.

Despite the house looking prime for a haunting it called out to you, beckoning you inside, because the man who called it home was your most trusted friend and you knew his presence could at the bare minimum comfort you after the trauma you'd just been through.

You approached with the energy of a woman half your age, sprinting up the front porch steps and pounding on the oak door more demandingly than you had intended.

Tim swung it open a full minute later, in nothing but dark gray sweatpants, his heavy eyes peering out at you, his hair tussled from what had probably been a deep, satisfying sleep.

You'd have felt guilty for waking him if your heart hadn't nearly stopped at the sight of his bare, broad shoulders, defined upper arm muscles, and soft belly.

You'd admittingly dreamed of him more than once in the last year you'd known him, your subconscious mind not caring one bit that he was your partner, but your brain hadn't quite done him justice. You wondered in what other...areas your dreams failed him, but you refused to let your gaze drop below the beginnings of the happy trail on his lower stomach.

"Psy, what are you doing here?" he asked, eyes widening as soon as his brain registered who was standing in front of him.

"Can I please stay here tonight?" you pleaded hurriedly, afraid if you didn't get what you wanted to say out fast that you'd chicken out.

"What's going on?" he questioned, pursing his lips. There was worry in his eyes again. He stepped aside before you could answer, gesturing for you to enter his cozy home.

You did so gratefully and folded your arms self-consciously over your chest. It had just occurred to you that since you were in nothing but thin cotton long sleeved forest green pajamas that your breasts were well defined underneath, especially after standing outside in the chill of an autumn night for some time.

"Elliot's spirit followed me home," you informed him, rubbing your upper arms with your hands, attempting to warm them up. "He attacked me."

"Attacked you?" Tim sounded startled. You met his eyes and saw his concern deepen. He hadn't thought to say that it was impossible because it was all in your head. You wondered if he was finally starting to come around to the idea that spirits existed.

If he wasn't, he surely would after what you'd do next.

"He scratched me," you continued, voice shaky as you turned your back to him and curled the tips of your fingers around the hem of the back of your shirt. "How bad is it?"

You rolled it up as high as you thought the scratch went and heard Tim inhale sharply as you revealed it to him. You felt his rough yet gentle hands glide over yours as he lifted your shirt up just a little higher to take in the full damage.

"Elliot did this?" he growled, sounding outraged, a fierce anger in his tone that you had not been prepared for, typically a man who was subtle with all his emotions.

"How bad is it?" you repeated, wanting desperately to know.

"There's three long marks diagonally along the center of your back," he stated stiffly, attempting to rein in his upset. "They are about four inches in length, start to finish. Luckily they don't look too deep, but judging from the blood on your shirt, they did bleed for some amount of time."

You stepped away from him and dropped your shirt back into place before facing him again. "I wouldn't do that to myself."

"I know," he said firmly. You could tell from his tense expression alone that he believed you. "There's no way you could've reached back there to scratch yourself up like that. No normal human's nails could mark you that badly anyway.”

There was great relief from him finally accepting that spirits were real, especially that night. You desperately had needed him to believe it after having been shaken up so significantly. Your sight was blinded by tears again.

Tim reached out to squeeze your left shoulder supportively. "Does it hurt? Do you want to go to the hospital? I can drive you."

You shook your head, unable to prevent the smile that briefly adorned your face, remembering how'd he been with you when you first met. Oh how the times do change. "No, I just need a place to crash. Can I take your couch?"

"Better yet, you can take my spare bed," he replied, dropping his hand back to his side. "Follow me up. I'll show you to the room and get a fresh shirt and dressing for you. Going to need to clean those marks to make sure they don't get infected."

You nodded and trailed him as he climbed the stairs to the second floor without another word, flipping on lights as he went.

He entered the first room on the left and made his way in the dark to the nightstand to turn on the white lamp centered on its surface. The light emitted from it was dim, but good enough to use while cleaning your wound. Without a word Tim gestured for you to sit on the edge of the bed and strolled out of the room to collect the items he'd need to treat the scratches on your back.

He returned a few minutes later with scissors, gauze, medical tape, disinfectant, and an old plain black t-shirt in hand. He offered the shirt to you as soon as he was within your reach. You noted the charcoal gray t-shirt he'd slipped on while he was gone.

"I didn't think you owned anything besides black and white suits," you teased, trying to lighten the mood as you accepted it, folding the black shirt up on your lap until you could switch it out with your bloodied pajama one.

"We've never been around each other on our off days," he pointed out, a hint of a teasing tone in his voice. "I like to be comfortable just like anyone else."

For some reason it had been hard for you to imagine him in anything else but his work apparel. It was strange seeing him in casual clothes. Strange because it felt almost intimate. Like it was a part of his life you shouldn't have seen as his professional partner.

"Gonna sit behind you," he informed you quietly, gruffly. "Can you hold up the back of your shirt while I clean your wounds?"

You nodded, finding yourself tongue-tied, and couldn't help but note how much the mattress sank as he settled on it just outside of your peripheral vision. You could feel the front of one of his knees lightly brushing against your back after he was seated. You tried not to think about it as you lifted your shirt so he had easy access to the scratches.

"This is going to sting," he warned.

Nodding again, you tensed as he pressed a wet gauze to your upper back, hissing at the sting of the disinfectant he was using. It was the only painful thing about Tim tending to your wounds. His calloused hands occasionally brushed your sensitive, slightly inflamed skin, but they were as gentle as they could be. You found yourself trembling under his touch, and it wasn't because of the pain. With every feather light glance of his fingertips the desire you'd consistently tried to stomp out for months flared with newfound strength.

"Sorry," he apologized in the softest tone you'd ever heard him speak in. "Almost done."

You clutched at the mattress beneath you as he taped gauze to your upper back, trying to focus on that rather than his presence, grateful that your reactions were only coming off as ones of pain to him. He wasn't completely wrong.

“All done,” he finally announced, and you expected to be relieved when his hands pulled away from you, but instead you felt your hunger for him surge within you. You couldn’t keep still. You needed his hands back on you.

You twisted in place, dropping the shirt that had been on your lap, and crashed your lips into his desperately, hands splaying out on his chest as you prayed silently that he would respond, and respond he did, tugging you closer, curling a hand around the base of your neck, and licking into the heat of your mouth and you realized in that moment that he had desired you just as much.

When you both took a breath, he pulled his head back far enough to study your face, searching for anything in your expression that could tell him what more you wanted from him. He would only give as much as you asked for.

You answered his silent question with another searing kiss, your hands traveling to his back and up into his hair, ruffling it as you sought purchase. You pressed yourself closer to him and he embraced you, arms wrapping around your lower back, careful to avoid your bandaged wound.

It wasn’t long before you guided his hands to the edge of your shirt and he got your message instantly, easing your sleep shirt up off of you and chucking it to the floor.

The chill in the room had your bare nipples immediately hard, and he didn’t miss it, his thumbs tracing your stiff buds, blown dark eyes flickering between your breasts and face. “Okay?”

“Yes,” you whined. You lolled your head back and one of his hands left your chest to support your neck again as he leaned towards you to lave at your exposed neck. Your fingers slipped into his short, slightly wavy hair again as you hummed under his attentiveness. "So good."

You reached for the chord of his sweatpants to untie it, the back of your hand brushing against the hardening bulge behind it, and he groaned as he jerked away from you, as if it was painful to do so. “We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to.”

“Where’d you get the idea I didn’t?” you chuckled. You definitely did not want to stop.

“I don’t have any condoms on hand,” he admitted after a few moments. “The last box I had expired.”

“Well, lucky for the both of us I’ve already gone through menopause,” you told him, kissing the corner of his mouth fondly, his moustache scrapping pleasantly against your lips. “And I’ve been just as focused on work as you have been the last few years or so.”

He caught onto your underlying meaning and tilted his head to catch your full mouth again as you loosened his pants, tugging them down as far as you could while still on the bed, revealing his black and white checkered boxers.

In a brief, humorous thought, you made a mental note to get him items of clothing that weren’t black, white, tan, or gray for his next birthday. The man needed more color in his life.

He didn’t notice the amusement on your face as he stood and kicked the pants the rest of the way off him, and when you laid back so he could remove your pants, it was gone. Nothing but want to invade your mind and your face.

Slowly but surely the last articles of clothing remaining on you both were added to the pile on the floor as your mouths and hands explored each other greedily. Once you were free, you knelt on the edge of the bed in front of him and reached out to hold the heft of him in your hands, stroking him confidently, spreading the precum leaking from his head up his entire length. Your firm, yet caressing touch had his knees buckling, and he groaned into your mouth as he braced himself against the bed with an arm, the other molded around your hips. You glanced up at his face briefly as you continued to pump him with your hands and the edges of your mouth lifted, taking delight in watching him watch you work him up with hooded eyes.

Once he was firm you shuffled back on the bed to make room for him to join you, mirroring your kneeling position. He reached down between your legs and you gasped as his fingers made contact with your clit, circling and tracing it until you were thrusting against his hand and him sliding two thick fingers inside you was enough to make you come, a warmth flooding your core as you lurched forward, panting against his chest, giving yourself time to enjoy the waves of ecstasy that followed. It had been quite some time since someone had made you feel that way.

When it was over you firmly pushed him back onto his palms and heels, a soft smile on your face. He raised his eyebrows slightly at you, wondering what you had in mind, but did not resist, curiosity winning out over any yearning he might have to be in control.

You had an idea of what you were doing, but most of it was instinct, wanting to be face to face with him without either of you being on your backs. You clung to his shoulders with your arms, lifting yourself up high enough to hover over him as you climbed onto his lap and folded your legs around his waist, lining your entrance up with his head before you let yourself slowly drop down on top of him.

He was thick, and it was a tight fit, but the foreplay had done its job, making you slick enough to take him deep. The drag of his cock inside you had him gritting his teeth the whole time you slid  him into you. He wound his strong arms around your lower back to brace you as you began to roll your hips against him and he joined in your rhythm, gliding in and out of you at a steady pace. Your faces stayed close, cheek to cheek, his beard prickling yours. You whimpered when he hit you particularly deep and he turned his head to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Okay?” he rasped between soft grunts.

You nodded vigorously, eyes snapped shut, breaths heavy. There were no other words spoken between you as you rocked together, letting your bodies and the sounds that slipped out of your mouths do the communicating.

It took you a little longer than it would’ve when you were younger, but when he found that special spot inside you his insistent press into it had you squeezing him and moaning loudly, invoking praise from his lips in the form of your name. He stilled in you soon after, cock spasming, spurting hot inside you as he emitted a low satisfied hmph, kissing along your lower jaw through both of your aftershocks.

When it was over, he let himself fall back onto one of the bed pillows and you followed him, still on top of him, allowing him to linger inside you as he softened, as your racing hearts returned to their normal rhythms, as you caught back your breaths. You were silent the whole time, not saying a word, just enjoying the intimate closeness with him. Trying not to let any of the fears and doubts knocking at your door in as your mind cleared from your lustful haze.

Eventually you rolled off him and he made a move to stand, only having managed to sit up when you pressed a palm against his broad chest in attempt to stop him from moving anymore.

“Stay with me, please?”

His eyes turned up to the doorway then back to your face, his expression saying what he wouldn't. He was uncertain if he should stay, though you could tell he wanted to. A brief kiss to his shoulder was all it took to convince him. "Alright. I'll stay."

You both took time to clean yourselves up in the bathroom across the hall, dressed back into your sleep clothes (you wearing his black t-shirt), and unmade the bed together, curling up under the thick blankets immediately after. You flipped onto your side, a hand folded under your pillow, and you smiled as he molded his burly body against your back, careful not to put any pressure on your wounds. His right arm draped over your stomach and you reached down to clasp his hand in yours, grateful for his affection. You felt safe in his arms, in a way you hadn't felt in a very long time, not when violent deaths and literal ghosts were a consistent part of your work. The warmth radiating off his body relaxed you as well, lulling you to sleep.

The last thing you felt as you drifted off was him burying his face into your neck.

x

You woke in the early morning to the beginnings of daylight spilling into the bedroom from the small window inside it. You were still warm, but when you registered that Tim's body was no longer pressed against yours, dread filled you. Had he decided to go back to his own bed after all?

You forced yourself to stand, quietly moving down the hall to peer into the next room over, the only other one with a bed in the house. The bed had been clearly used the night before, but it was empty, and when you dared to walk over to touch the sheets, they were freezing cold. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips at that before you tip toed back out the room. It had to be a good sign that he'd stayed the whole night with you, right?

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you headed for the bathroom and locked the door behind you so you could pee in privacy, still trying to push away your anxiety over how this morning would go. How Tim would be with you, what he would say. Where would you stand? You couldn't imagine the previous night being the one and only time you ever spent with him intimately, but you knew if he didn't want a real relationship you'd turn down any halfway offers. You weren't built for sex without emotion tied to it. It was in part why you hadn't had any for years, besides the forementioned workaholic issue.

You tried to ignore the ache that was forming in your chest as you washed your hands then brushed your teeth, splashing water in your face after, in an attempt to look put together when you were anything but after all that had occurred with Elliot and then Tim.

You strolled into the kitchen, finding Tim at the counter, pouring steaming hot coffee into two mugs. "Just in time," he said, his back still turned to you. You mused that he must have better hearing than you if he'd heard you padding into the room in your socks. None of the floorboards had squeaked. Maybe it was the job that had made him hyper aware.

"You want some coffee?" he asked, like everything between you was the same as it had been twenty-four hours before. You felt a tinge of annoyance that he could act so normal, but you hid it from him.

"Sure, if you have sugar and milk."

"Of course." He nodded at you and reached inside the fridge so he could grab the whole milk inside and mix a teaspoon of it into the coffee mug on his right, followed by a teaspoon of sugar from the canister on the countertop. He left his free of additives, preferring his black, something that still had you twitching your nose even after having seen him drink it nearly every day for the past year. You couldn't imagine drinking coffee as is, even if it was made with high quality whole beans.

Tim passed you your mug as you sat down at the small kitchen table in the far corner of the room. Instead of joining you he leaned back against the counter, eyes focused on his mug when he wasn't sipping from it.

"Are we going to talk about last night?" you inquired after a few minutes, the silence bothering you more than the fear of the conversation you were about to push.

Tim lifted his head to meet your eyes, appearing a bit ashamed. "I shouldn't have. Should've backed off. You were afraid. Seeking comfort. I feel like I took advantage of you."

You huffed. "I didn't sleep with you because I was afraid. I slept with you because your hands felt good on my skin. Because I trust you. Because I have feelings for you. Have for a long time. Do you know how good you look in suspenders?"

He snorted quietly, eyes falling back to the mug in his hands. "I've felt something for you for a while too. I've just been denying it to myself."

"Because of my abilities?" you guessed, trying not to be bothered by what was in the past.

He shook his head, looking back up at you. "I've been in denial about that too. Last night was not when you finally convinced me the spirits you see exist. It was slow, it snuck up on me, my belief, increasing with every case we took on that had an active one interacting with you. The way you consistently knew things you shouldn't have. The occasional unexplained eerie feeling I got sometimes right before you'd react to one showing itself to you. That's what eventually sold me. I just never imagined one would hurt you."

You recalled his reaction when he saw your scratches for the first time. "You were afraid for me. Last night."

"Of course," he confirmed with a growl. "Still am. He hurt you, he could hurt you again, and because Elliot's already dead I can't do shit about it."

There was a hint of defeat, of helplessness in his voice that made you feel like your heart was in a vice grip. You wanted nothing more than to run up to him and hug him, to reassure him it would be fine, but you denied yourself of that moment to further the conversation.

"The only way Elliot leaves me alone is if we solve the case," you told him. "And we've got a little over a couple hours before we can get back to that task. In the meantime, we need to figure out where we stand."

"Like if we pretend this never happened or we report to HR?"

"Something like that."

He peered back down at the coffee in his mug. "What do you want?"

"What do you think?" You curled your fingertips tighter around your mug. "I want whatever you want, unless that boils down to meaningless sex. I can't do that. What do you want?"

He sighed heavily. "A part of me wishes I could take last night back, and another part has no regrets." You swallowed hard, but said nothing as he continued, "This will complicate things at work. No matter what route we take. There's a reason HR frowns on people in the same unit having any kind of intimate relationship with each other."

"Because they're stupid," you muttered, sipping at your coffee, eyes shifting to peer up at him, waiting expectantly.

He couldn't help but chuckle even as he shook his head disapprovingly at you.

"I asked what you wanted, not HR," you reminded him, as you abandoned your mug at the table to join him by the counter.

When you got just within arm's reach he cupped your face with one palm gently, stroking his thumb over your cheek. "I want to see where this goes," he admitted.

"Then let's do that," you said as a weight lifted off your chest. "Screw HR."

Tim grunted. "We'll have to tell them eventually."

"Well, eventually is not going to be today."

He nodded his agreement as he guided your face closer to his, pressing a kiss to your lips more sweetly than you could've imagined him capable of.

When he pulled away you touched your forehead to his shoulder. "I need to get my work clothes at my house."

Elliot was not likely waiting there for you, and he could turn up anytime, anywhere, he even could've popped up right then and there in Tim's kitchen, but you still were not looking forward to it.

"I'll go with you," he offered immediately. "Let me put on my glasses and a pair of jeans and I'll drive you, go inside with you. You can grab whatever you need to get dressed for work and bring it back here. If that would make you feel safer."

He knew as well as you that it didn't matter to Elliot where you went, but he also knew going back to your home so soon after the attack would be difficult for you and that him being there would make a difference to you mentally.

"Thanks," you murmured. "I'll take you up on that."

"You can also stay here until the case is solved," he added, "No strings attached. I'm not expecting last night to happen again any time soon. I'm not trying to rush things. I just don't like the idea of you being alone while Elliot's still around, even though I know logically I wouldn't be able to stop him from hurting you again."

You beamed at him and wriggled your eyebrows. "Who says I don't want to repeat that any time soon?"

He cursed under his breath as you pulled away from him with a playful smirk and headed for the door. "I'll wait in the car."

"That's not fair, Psy," he called after you.

You didn't look back, but you were smiling warmly as you exited the house.

x

Luckily your fears of returning home were unwarranted, your quest to gather a few sets of clothes and beauty products uneventful. Maybe it had something to do with Tim standing formidably in the doorway to your bedroom as you packed your suitcase. Did the dead ever get intimidated by the living?

In any case you were grateful to get out of there without another confrontation with Elliot.

As soon as you and Tim arrived back at his house you both showered, him in the master bathroom and you in the hallway bathroom. He was dressed in a half hour and you in an hour, barely finishing up in time to not be late for work.

You and Tim took your own vehicles (well, he took his detective car), not wanting to spike the curiosity of any prying eyes and nosey noses in the department. Helen, bless her soul, would've been the first asking twenty questions and it was the last thing either of you wanted with your newfound relationship literally only hours old.

When you entered the Homicide Division you spotted Tim towards the back of the room having a conversation with Katie. You strolled up to them, a polite smile on your face.

"Anything new, Katie?" you asked lightly as you came to a stop between them, making sure you were no more closer or farther from Tim than you usually positioned yourself.

"Nothing with me personally," she told you, "But the Henley case, oh boy. Dex, the poison expert on our team tested a mystery substance in a gas can found half buried in the woods behind their mansion."

"And there were traces of arsenic."

"Of course," she said, "But that's just the beginning. There was blood on the canister. Just a speck. Looks like the killer cut themselves on the hard plastic trying to open the lid. I swabbed it and compared it to the oral samples we took from each of the Henley’s. Compared it to a blood sample from Elliot for good measure..."

You waited but after several seconds of silence you huffed. You hated when people stretched out tension, like a reality show going to commercial break right before the winner is revealed. "What'd you find kid?"

You could've sworn Katie's eyes were glowing with excitement. Whatever information she had was juicy.

"First off, you remember how Elliot is adopted, right?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Yeah..."

"Well, turns out he is actually related to Richard and his sisters," Katie informed you, "But not Hazel."

"Roderick cheated on her," you concluded, eyes broadening. "And she let him adopt his son when his mistress died?"

"She might have not known," Katie offered, "Not until now at least."

"Are you suggesting she's our prime suspect?" Tim quizzed.

"I would be," she replied, "...if it wasn't Richard's blood on the canister."

"He described Elliot as a leech," you recalled. "A lazy one at that. It wouldn't be a big stretch to think that after finding out Elliot is their father's bastard son that he might consider him unworthy of living in their mansion. Worse than an interloper; living, breathing evidence that their father was not faithful to their mother."

"We've got enough for you to get an arrest warrant," you stated.

"Let's get going then," Tim said, buttoning up his trench coat. "The sooner we have that warrant the better."

He didn't mention that it was because Elliot had become a threat.

x

By mid afternoon Richard was back in the same interrogation room he had been in the previous day, dressed in a suit and tie, having been caught on the front porch of the mansion right after returning home from a business meeting.

At first he wouldn't stop rambling, mostly about how he was going to sue the whole department for every penny for falsely accusing him, but he'd been quiet since Tim had revealed that Forensics had DNA proof that he'd opened the canister of arsenic, the gravity of his situation having finally sunk in.

"I know you said you're not going to talk anymore until your lawyer gets in," Tim started as he sat down in front of him, "But indulge me. Let me tell you how I think everything went down."

Richard stared at him, maintaining a neutral expression.

"I think somehow you found out Elliot was actually your half brother," Tim continued, "And I think you decided your good-for-nothing half brother had to go. You couldn't risk it getting out that your father, the head of your family, had once had a mistress. You had to keep your family's reputation clean of that kind of scandal for the sake of your business' success. Am I right?"

Richard had been well trained in the art of, well, training his face, but you had trained yourself well in the art of observation and you'd had several more years than him to practice. When Tim had called Elliot his half brother Richard's eyes had widened just a bit.

"You didn't know he was your biological brother," you realized. "You didn't murder Elliot." You took a step towards him, away from the wall your back had been pressed against. "Who had you open the gas canister, Dick?"

He refused to speak.

"Was it Jeanine? Heidi? No..." You paused, "It was Hazel after all, wasn't it?"

"Dick, without your statement, without the truth, we will have to go ahead with prosecuting you," Tim declared. "All the evidence points to you. Unless you can say otherwise or tell us of other evidence that would contradict what we've gathered."

"Guess I'm going to prison then," he snarled.

"Well, no one can argue you're not a good son," you said with a shrug, trying to act casual. "Guess there's nothing left for us to say here."

You headed for the door and Tim followed you out. "You have an idea."

"Actually, I don't," you admitted. "I was hoping you did. Since my little ghost problem won't go away until we put his real killer behind bars."

Tim worked his jaw. "We let Richard sit in prison for a few days, then let Hazel visit him and talk with her again after. Maybe she loves him enough to confess."

"A few days?" You arched your brows and he narrowed his eyes at you, his expression warning you not to say anything else.

"I don't have any ulterior motives behind the time frame," he told you. "We have the weekend off and Richard needs time to stew. To realize how awful prison truly is. Either he breaks or Hazel does."

You couldn't help the crooked smile that formed on your face. "Cold..."

“Apt.”

"True."

x

You spent the rest of the day digging up information on the Henley family history at the public library seven minutes away from the department and going over some photos that had been confiscated from the mansion.

One in particular got your attention. A wedding photo of Hazel and Roderick. “They look so happy,” you observed from over Tim’s shoulder as he studied it in one hand, his glasses grasped in the other. Something occurred to you. “Do you think she killed him too, for cheating?”

Tim shook his head. “I checked into his death. It was from lung cancer. He was a heavy smoker.”

"Of course.”

Tim checked his watch. "Time to clock out. Do you want to head out to a bar?"

It was a fairly common for him to ask you if you wanted to hang out at Liquid Alchemy on a Friday night, or after a case was closed, but it was the first time he had suggested a bar and not Liquid Alchemy by name. You cocked an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

"There's this upscale full bar in the Lazy Queen restaurant on the other side of the city," Tim informed you. "I've never been, but I've heard good things. Though it's a little pricey for everyone here. For one night it wouldn't hurt to indulge though. I'll pay."

You got the message. The bar's location and prices would keep anyone you knew from work away and would allow you both to enjoy the rest of the night without prying eyes.

You glanced at the doorway of your shared office, making sure no one on the floor outside of it was within earshot. "Sounds like a date."

"If you'd like it to be."

"I would."

Tim dropped the photo in his hand on the desk and put his glasses back on before pushing himself up onto his feet with a small grunt, his left hand briefly clutching at his stiff lower back. You held back a comment about him needing to get a new office chair. You'd already mentioned it to him several times before, but he was stubborn.

"I'll head out right now," he told you as he shrugged on his trench coat, which had been draped over the chair in front of his desk. "Give me five before you follow me. We'll meet up at my house and you can jump in with me, okay?"

You grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

He dared a quick kiss to your temple as he passed you on the way out of the room and your lips pulled back even more.

Dating Tim was going to get dangerous. You could get used to him being affectionate with you.

x

The Lazy Queen's restaurant had the best Margaritas you could ever recall, and they hit hard too. After only a couple your usually not-so-lightweight self had become a chatty twenty questions kind of gal. It was so out of character for you Tim was amused by your behavior, lips quirking up on several occasions as you continued through your list of questions which he all answered patiently.

"Horror or action films?"

"Action."

"Have you ever seen snow in person?"

"Of course. It snows in Portland. Just not every year. Heard rumors we might this December, but it's not something to bet on."

"What's the story behind this?" you quizzed, stretching forward to clasp his left hand in yours, displaying the small target tattoo in between his thumb and index finger.

"I got it when I first started basic training," he answered. "It was to remind myself to hit bullseye every time. Literally and figuratively. To never lose sight of my goals."

"And have you not?" you inquired.

"Not what?"

"Lost sight of your goals."

He shrugged, taking a sip of the fancy drink in his right hand, and you realize you've forgotten the name of it. You pushed your current Margarita, your third, away from you. "I've had to take a few failures like everyone else. We can't solve every case."

There was something in his dark eyes, a hint of grief and guilt, that sobered you up a bit because you knew then that he was thinking about his lost sister.

"Think you're sober enough to drive us home?" you asked him with a sigh.

His eyebrows shot up. "You moving in permanently?" He was smiling lightly, teasing.

"Not yet," you huffed. "You know what I meant. Your home."

"Yeah," he said, an index finger circling the edge of his glass. "I'm sober enough. I don't even have a buzz. I've been nursing this lone drink all night. You didn't notice?"

"Shut up."

x

You were running barefoot through the forest at night at full speed, in a flowing white dress that reached your knees, eyes darting over your shoulders on occasion to make sure whatever you were trying to escape wasn't gaining on you. It was too dark out to see that far behind you though.

Fallen leaves crunched under your bare feet, damp moss made you slip twice, and you had to leap a few tree roots that stuck out of the ground but you didn't slow your pace for even a moment.

You heard a river roaring in the distance and for some reason you were convinced that crossing that would save you, so you aimed for the sound, stretching your legs out as far as you could in hopes of covering ground even faster. You stopped looking back, certain if you kept moving that you'd get to safety.

You pushed through a thicket of trees and had to skid to a stop, narrowly preventing yourself from falling off the cliff on the other side of it, one of your feet halfway over the edge. You were right next to a waterfall. You gasped at the close call.

Remembering that you had been running from something you twisted around and your eyes grew into saucers when you spotted it. A black human shaped mass easily flowing through the trees, into the same open space you were in.

"You can run, but you can't hide forever," said a furious masculine voice. It was coming from the black mass, though you could not see a mouth, let alone see it move.

"Why are you chasing me?" you demanded fearfully.

"Because you are fleeing," the voice growled, like it was the simplest thing. Maybe it was to him. Nothing but a predator chasing prey.

You swallowed hard as he took a step forward. "I spent so much time living fictional lives, I forgot how entertaining the living could be to mess with."

Your eyes grew bigger. "Elliot," you whispered. "You don't belong here."

"In your dreams, or in the world?" he hissed as his form reshaped into the man you'd seen lying dead on a cold table less than forty-eight hours ago.

"Both," you replied. "Spirits who stick around can become troubled fairly quickly."

"You think I'm one of your troubled ghosts?" He chuckled, a gleam in his already eerie gray eyes. "All I've done is discover the benefits of being dead."

"This isn't the man who sat with his mother in the garden," you noted.

"No," he agreed. "That man was murdered by her. Apparently."

At your surprised reaction he beamed. "I was there when you interviewed my brother for the second time. I just made sure you couldn't tell. I'm getting better at stuff like that."

You shivered. "This isn't you, Elliot." You knew it to be true in your gut. Everyone had the capacity to commit evil, some more than others, but what mattered was how you had behaved, and while Elliot had maybe been lazy, nothing you'd heard or read about him had hinted at him behaving badly in any kind of way. The in between had twisted him beyond recognition.

"Who says anyone has to stay the same?" He strolled towards you and you took another step back, finding yourself teetering, dangerously close to falling over the cliff. He grinned. "It's fun messing with you."

He shoved you, catching you off guard for a second, sending you flying over. You heard your skull crack against a stone before you collapsed into the frigid water at the bottom.

x

Your eyes snapped open and you pulled ragged breaths from your lungs as you shot up into a sit in Tim's guest room bed. For a few seconds you didn't move other than to press your right hand to your chest and close your eyes as you focused on recovery.

It had felt so real, but it had all been a dream. You could hardly remember the last time you'd been so relieved. It was short lived though, as you realized that Elliot might've been the crafter of your nightmare. After all, though it was rare, it had happened before with other spirits. It would explain why you were still shaking. He was nearby, close enough to affect you, for you to sense him on some subconscious level.

On the way back to Tim's house you'd both decided that sleeping in separate bedrooms would be best for your relationship for a bit, not wanting to rush into it any more than you'd already had.

You regretted that as you rolled over and ran your hand over the cold spot next to you on the mattress in an attempt to seek comfort. You'd taken pride in yourself all your life for being independent, for not needing anyone else when you left the office, but there were occasions, nights like these, when the solace of another body besides yours would've been much more preferable.

For the first time in your life when a spirit had taken the reins of your subconscious, you had the option to change your situation. To seek that comfort you wanted so profoundly. You slid out of bed and walked into the doorway of the room next door, quietly knocking on the solid oak, trying to wake Tim without startling him.

He still flinched a little when he woke up, glancing around sleepily as he rolled from his side and onto his back. When he noticed you wordlessly standing in his doorway he blinked at you, confused. "What's wrong?"

You were suddenly shy, feeling stupid. Like you going to see him was childish, even though your nightmare hadn't been just a nightmare and you had every right to be afraid. "Elliot's nearby."

Tim sat up in bed quickly, the blankets that had covered him up to his shoulders slipping down to his waist. He had kept on the plain red shirt that he'd worn that night to bed with a fresh new pair of light gray sweatpants. "Where?"

"I don't know," you replied. "But he was in my dreams. He said he overheard that it was his adoptive mother who killed him and then he pushed me over a waterfall and I woke up."

"I'm sorry, Psy," he said, standing so he could rub your arms comfortingly. "Maybe waiting for Hazel to confess was a mistake."

You shook your head. "It's the only good plan we have. Any other could've screwed up the case. It's not your fault. And at least he didn't show up here in the house."

You still weren't exactly sure why.

"Do you want to stay with me?" Tim questioned. "Share the bed? Would that help?"

You shrugged. "Maybe. He doesn't seem to like interacting with me when you're around for some reason."

"He is shorter than me," he stated as if it made total sense.

You snorted at his joke but some part of you wondered if Elliot really was intimated by him. Sometimes spirits still acted like they were living and breathing. That could include fearful behavior.

In any case, you weren't about to turn down the offer you'd been hoping to get. "I'll take the right side, if that's alright. I sleep better there."

"You're in luck," Tim told you. "I actually sleep on the left most nights."

He returned to his bed, lifting the blankets high enough so you could easily follow, tucking yourself into his side. "Is this okay?" you asked him.

"Perfect."

Saturday and Sunday night were also spent cuddled up with each other in the same way. Tim didn't complain, and since you didn't have sex, you figured you were still complying pretty well with the promise you'd made to each other to slow things down while you began to learn each other on a much more personal level than you had before.

You were really reconsidering it though.

x

Monday morning you and Tim returned to work refreshed, coming back from a mostly relaxing weekend filled with old movies, takeout, and the background noise of rain.

You were so ready to get back to the case on that crisp, sunny day that it startled you when you spotted Hazel waiting for you both outside of the department's main entrance, extending her wrists out towards Tim in a gesture telling him to arrest her.

You and Tim both nearly dropped the coffee shop cups in your hands.

"I've come to confess," she declared, as if she needed to. "I killed Elliot."

Tim slapped the pair of cuffs he always kept on him while on duty onto her wrists and made sure they were secure. "Hazel Henley, you have the right to remain silent..."

x

Within ten minutes you, Tim, and Hazel were settled into one of the interrogation rooms, and Tim was holding up a voice recorder in front of her, flicking it on to record. "Start from the beginning. State your name and explain why you are here."

"My name is Hazel Henley, and I am here to confess that I killed Elliot Henley."

There was a slight tremble in her voice, but you were almost certain it was from having to admit to a crime and not because she regretted that he was dead.

"Mrs. Henley, why did you kill your son?" you prompted, trying to ignore a thickness that started to fill the air, making it a little harder to breath, putting something deep inside you on edge. Elliot was in the room, and he wasn't trying to hide it.

"Because he wasn't mine," she huffed. "Not really. Not at all in my eyes."

You frowned. "You didn't care about him; not even when you intially adopted him?"

"No," she answered bitterly. "How could I? Knowing he was my husband's bastard son?"

Tim lifted a brow. "You knew?"

"Of course I did," she said with annoyance. "I'm not stupid. Roderick was the one who came up to me suggesting we adopt him, nearly begged me. It was obvious. He would've never begged for a kid that wasn't of his own blood. Son of a friend or not."

"You knew Elliot's mother?"

"She was a neighbor of ours," Hazel explained. "Born into her money. Loved doing charity work as a job. The only sweet thing about her. She lived alone but had a way with people. Knew how to intertwine herself into everyone else's lives, make them worship her, or at least invite her to parties. She probably got pregnant on purpose in attempt to make Roderick leave me for her. I got the last laugh. Or so I thought, until the bitch died in a car accident."

"Why'd you agree to adopt Elliot?" you inquired, genuinely curious.

"Because Roderick always got his way," Hazel told you. "I wasn't always a strong-minded woman. I was worried saying no would be the last straw in our already broken marriage. I was trying to mend it."

"Then Roderick died..." Tim trailed.

"Then Roderick died," Hazel repeated. "And I was free to get rid of him before I got too old, before he could get a cent more of our money."

"Why did the canister of arsenic have Richard's blood on it?"

Hazel raised both of her hands in the air, palms down. They were tremoring slightly. "I can't get a good grip on most things nowadays. I needed someone to twist the lid open and pour some into a few smaller jars."

"He had no idea what you were doing?" you asked.

"He didn't even question what was inside," she replied. "He just poured it and left. My ever loyal son. I'm only confessing because he doesn't deserve to be in prison because of me. He has so much life left ahead of him."

You felt a flash of anger lick at your insides. Even though Elliot's spirit had attacked you twice, he'd only done that because of what Hazel had done to him. "Elliot had so much life ahead of him too."

She scoffed. "Playing video games? He was just like his mother. Living off his father's money. No ambition."

"You'd be surprised the money people can make playing games while others watch," you told her. "Some make millions."

"He wasn't," she assured you, eyes narrowing. She turned them back to Tim. "Anything else you need to know?"

"Plenty more," Tim said, "Starting with where you got concentrated arsenic."

She nearly smiled at him. "That's an interesting story, but a long one."

He gestured at her to go for it. "We have all day if necessary."

So she jumped into a story about how she found herself buying from black market dealers.

It was afternoon by the time you and Tim were done with her, by the time a prison guard was pulling her away from you both at the door where prisoners were dropped off.

On your way back to Tim's car you spotted Richard walking free, out of the chain link lined yard, a duffle bag over his shoulder. And Elliot was right there behind him, leaning against the fence, watching.

He must have felt you peering over at him because Elliot glanced up in your direction, and what you saw in his eyes surprised you. Getting justice must have calmed him because his expression was nothing like the one he'd worn either of the times he'd attacked you. It was like the madness had finally been lifted.

Strange how that sometimes worked.

You hesitantly gave him a curt nod and he gave you one back, disappearing immediately after, to God-only-knows where. Or maybe gods-only-know where.

You just knew that a subtle, insistent tension you hadn't really noticed was there before snapped and it seemed like the sunny day had become even brighter.

Elliot was gone.

x

That night Tim followed you back to your house, wanting to be there as you unpacked and settled back in, even though you'd assured him that Elliot had most definitely moved on.

That had eventually led you to asking him to stay for popcorn and a movie, to which he agreed to readily. It was almost ten o'clock when he got off the couch to leave.

"I'd better go," he said decidedly. "Getting late for a work night."

"I've been thinking," you told him.

"Oh?"

"About our agreement," you continued, standing up to give him a swift kiss on the mouth. "And I was thinking we should amend it."

Tim arched an eyebrow. "What were you thinking?"

"That we just do whatever feels right in the moment," you answered. "Within reason of course. We still have to be professional at work, of course. Even after we tell HR what's going on with us."

"So...no more slowing things down?"

"Technically we've already been in a relationship for thirteen months," you told him. "Just not a romantic kind. And we had our first date. Already have done plenty of cuddling..."

A subtle smile played on Tim's lips. "What are you suggesting, Psy?"

"You could stay here tonight," you replied, placing your hands on his suited chest. "You could show me what you'd have done that night if I hadn't taken lead. If you want."

He dived in to kiss you until you were both panting, until you were burning up inside. "I want," he confirmed, barely a whisper away from your mouth.

You grinned. "Then lead the way."

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[quibbs126]

May I request a CacaoLily (Dark Cacao x White Lily) fan child if you haven’t done one already?

All right, I made her, this is Snowdrop Cookie

So as for her name, it’s mostly because snowdrops are white flowers, and the Dark Cacao Kingdom has a lot of snow. I was going to originally go with chocolate lilies, but then I looked at the two and realized that their kid would probably have white hair, whereas chocolate lilies are a dark brown, so I went with snowdrops instead

Snowdrop:

I’m gonna be completely honest, I think I should have spent more time on her design. I’m not too satisfied with it, and honestly I think I kind of rushed it, just because I had some ideas for her today. Her hair’s…good I suppose, and I definitely plan on keeping the eye shape. I added the black streaks so she’d bear more resemblance to her father. I was also debating between a bun or a ponytail, but my friend said ponytail was better, so I did that. Originally I planned to have her hair all down, but I couldn’t get it to look right. But as for her outfit, I really didn’t think about it as much as I should have. I wanted to incorporate snowdrops into her design, but I couldn’t figure out how, so I sort of gave her a cloak/scarf that resembles it, and then I just came up with something random for the rest of it that looked like the rest of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, since that’s where she lives. And as for the colors, I just sort of went with whatever random thing I could think of, mainly just giving her White Lily’s colors

Yeah, I definitely think I’m gonna redesign her and give her more time to actually be fleshed out in my head. I’ll probably draw her more as I flesh her out

Also technically what you see here isn’t what she looks like in “current day” Kingdom. This is her when she’s around 20 or so. In current day, she’s more around her mid 40s (though granted I’m not sure how to portray that), but we’ll get to that

So as for her character, so I was going to say that nothing much had changed since I talked about her this morning, and that I hadn’t fleshed her out at all, but while making this post I took a break and started thinking of her more. So what I say may not be accurate to the picture shown

Anyways, so the things I said before still apply. Snowdrop is the princess of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, and is Dark Choco’s older half sister. Though their age gap is a lot bigger than the other half siblings I’ve made for him (at least for now, I think the affocao one is going to have them beat out), with her being around 15 years older, or whatever Cookie terms that applies to, since she would have been around pre Dark Enchantress, but Dark Choco would be very young at the time of the Dark Flour War, which from what I understand has a few centuries in between them. But whatever, the timeline of Cookie Run is weird. Let’s just say she’s 15 years older and move on

So with this large age gap, while yes she was close to her little brother, she tended to be closer to a babysitter than just an older sister, given she’d be an adult by the time he’s like 3. Given Dark Choco had very little frame of reference for sibling relationships, he never saw this as weird

Anyways so let’s move on to Snowdrop on her own. …Okay I’ll be honest, I don’t have much on her personality other than she’s sweet and a bit timid at times. I think I’m also going to keep the aspect that she helped with the physicians in the Citadel, possibly learning parts of their trade. However, don’t take her somewhat meek appearance as a sign she’s not a threat, she’s still a Dark Cacao warrior, and one trained by Dark Cacao at that. She’s absolutely nasty with a dagger, her preferred weapon of choice. Also, she’s not short, not by a long shot, with her height rivaling that of her father, meaning she towers over most people. She’s just a bit lanky

Anyways, so one day, back when Dark Choco was young, around 5 or so (but after White Lily disappeared), Snowdrop suddenly disappeared without a trace, and she hasn’t been seen since. The last person to see her was Dark Choco, where the previous night, he had gone out of his room for a glass of milk, only to see Snowdrop sneaking through the halls wrapped in a cloak. He asked where she was going and she said she was just planning on going out for a little evening stroll outside the castle. She helped him get his glass and tucked him back in bed, telling him to keep her walk a little secret between him, before kissing him goodnight. The morning after, no one could find him. Eventually after a few days, Dark Choco felt bad and that maybe something had happened, and told his dad that she said she had gone out for a walk, but still no trace of her could be found. No one knows why she left, but Dark Cacao can’t help but blame himself (also in truth I haven’t figured out why she left either. Maybe something to do with her mom. I just wanted her to be missing). If she ever returns, and especially after the incident with Dark Choco, Dark Cacao will keep his gates open

I may end up drawing her post-disappearance, but I haven’t decided

But yeah, that’s Snowdrop. Definitely feel like I should have spent more time on her, but I hope you still like her regardless

[politemagic]

Just casually dropping this here, because your fic touches on that too 👀

This part of TØP's Fall Away:

I'm screaming submission and, I don't know if I am dying or living 'Cause I will save face For name's sake Abuse grace Take aim to obtain a new name And a newer place But my name is lame I can't walk and I ain't the same And my name became A new destiny to the grave

- in relation to Jericho / Take Aim / Descending, and the implications of Sleep taking Vessel's name and erasing his identity to make him Theirs.

Okay that's it byeee~

DARYA I AM SCREAMING TØP X THE HAUNTING OF SLEEP MANOR?????????? this has the gears in my brain whirring so you're getting some insight into the Sleep lore of my au 😇 (spoilers for chapter 4 if anyone has not read it)

first of all, Fall Away will be added to my playlist immediately because this entire section is just. fucking spot on. but especially:

and my name became a new destiny to the grave

so I have always been fascinated by the fae, and so when Trish says “You’ve given him your name, haven’t you?” in ch. 3 it was very much based on the legends of giving them your name gives them power to control you to some extent. and as Charlotte reveals in this new chapter, Sleep needs to consume human energy in order to re-enter the mortal world and reclaim the power He once had. by becoming the True Vessel of Sleep, Vessel has damned himself to be given over to Sleep, he is the final piece of His puzzle.

until I wake I, dine on old encounters

this line from Jericho is precisely what inspired me to go so hard into the Sleep lore in this fic!!!! I cannot tell you the rush of euphoria I felt seeing you point out Jericho specifically because it's so heavily embedded in my plan for this story. Sleep is the thing that keeps the ghosts in the house, they can't move on to the Beyond because they no longer have control of their soul, Sleep does.

He came to all of them as they were dying and convinced them that He could help them (much like he has done to Vessel by offering this place of solace). part of why all the ghosts are spaced out the way they are is because that energy can only sustain Him for so long, depending on their strength. so He is, quite literally, dining on old encounters. and the line "you taste like new flesh say my name again" is in direct connection with Sleep's intentions to consume Vessel.

you led me on when the moment is perfect I will fire and forget til we both lay broken

this line from Take Aim I feel like sums up Vessel's feelings towards Sleep (not quite yet, but he's on his way there). if III's response to this revelation in chapter 4 wasn't enough evidence, the vessels feel deeply betrayed by their deity. Sleep is waiting for the perfect opportunity to consume them, but their allegiances are slowly shifting. they have spent so much of their lives now channeling all of this power and energy into Sleep, yet now they know that they've been led on by His false promises. they are starting to question if they should allow this being to have reign over the mortal world. Sleep lost His power initially by being forgotten, yet they have reminded the world of His existence... hm.....

okay I simply cannot resist so SLIGHT SPOILER WARNING!!!!! (I feel like most of you could imagine this is where I'm going but either way you can skip this next section)

you come crawling back to me but I'm already on the ground and we all know that talk is cheap so come on and save me now

this line from Descending, looking through the lens of this au, comes from Sleep to Vessel. He has seen Vessel fight back against Him before, yet he always comes back. Vessel feels torn between wanting to save himself and this deity he has given everything to. when Vessel first turns his back on Sleep, He is furious and wants to hurt Vessel (I WON'T spoil how. I will exercise restraint) in an attempt to get Vessel to come back to Him. but Vessel's actions have already hurt Sleep and His power (hence, already on the ground) and the "talk is cheap" refers to the warnings of the ghosts. He is trying to coax Vessel back into His service, trying to get him to take those last steps so that Sleep can be "saved" and return to full power.

SPOILER OVER!

til I let you fall, ah (why don't you just say what you wanted to say?) I've been left no choice (why don't you just say what you wanted to say?) don't you see that? (why don't you just say what you wanted to say?)

this is between Sleep and Vessel. Sleep is trying to explain to Vessel that He has no other choice to return to His power except for him. He's waited centuries, feeding off the energies of others however He can, but the True Vessel is the last missing piece. Vessel, trying to be reasonable (because he's hurt 🙁), wants to know why Sleep wouldn't just tell him the plan. beneath the part of him that feels betrayed that Sleep had planned this for him all along, he can't help but feel hurt that Sleep didn't think he was loyal enough to follow through with it. I think, if Sleep had told him what He needed, Vessel wouldn't have fought it, honestly.

✨anyways✨

there's a little a lot Sleep Manor lyrical interpretations for you🥰

[riahlynn101]

Whumptober Day Thirty: "Not Much Longer Now."

Takes place in the FNAF movie universe.

This is a work in progress, but I've been so busy. Day 29 (which I'll post sometime today) and day 30 are basically the same story told from two Point of views. This one is Garrett's POV. And day 29 is Mike's.

I'm going to put the story under a read more just in case I decide to include spoilers.

Trigger warnings: Child death, major character death, blood, gore, implied/referenced kidnapping.

Edited 10/31/2023 - added onto the story. Minor grammar and spelling edits.

Garrett can still recall the pain he felt. The knife ripping into his flesh. Uncle William staring down at him with a cold expression, not a hint of remorse in his eyes. He remembers calling out for his brother. 

Mike never failed to show up before. Rushing into his bedroom during a thunderstorm to make sure Garrett’s okay. Checking under his bed for monsters every night without fail. And letting Garrett curl up next to him whenever he got scared. 

But that day, for one reason or another, his brother never showed up. 

Garrett died…scared and alone and-

The next couple decades are an endless blur of nightmares. Terrible beasts with claws and forked tongues chasing and lunging at him.

Sometimes, though, he’d get lucky. Instead of beating back monsters with a flashlight, Garrett would find himself being forced to reenact his last moments with his family. It should frighten him, being forced to do anything. But he gets to see his family again, and it’s the last good memory he has. 

He likes being able to play again, zooming around the picnic table with his toy airplane. Mike bought it for him with his birthday money. Garrett loved that toy until the day he died. Quite literally too, he died holding it. 

The only bad part of the dream is seeing his big brother so distressed. Watching Mike run after the car, calling out his name, hurts. His heart aches terribly. He longs to reach out to his brother, hug him and tell him that it’s okay. That despite what happened, it’s not his fault. None of it is Mike’s fault. 

But slowly, over the years, that wish changed. 

It morphed into something more permanent. 

A simple hug and some meaningless words wouldn’t suffice. His brother spent years ruminating on his kidnapping. Sure, it might work in the moment, but what happens when Mike wakes up? Will he be satisfied, or will his self-blaming tendencies come back in full swing?

Garrett puts his plan into motion. 

It starts with the reopening of a long abandoned pizzeria. When management starts talking about hiring a security guard, Mike’s file ends up on their desk. 

He talks with the other children, and makes sure that they know not to mess with Mike. They listen to him-for the most part-but Cassidy glares at him. Not that Garrett cares. As long as they leave his brother alone, they can hate him all they want. 

The next part of his plan is left to chance. It’s hard to maneuver the marionette, so leaving the pizzeria is hard. And it’s not like he can threaten his brother into taking the position anyway. Well, he can-if he could leave-but Garrett doesn’t want his brother to take the job out of fear. 

Instead, he calls his brother, dialing the only number that he could ever remember. His voice isn’t picked up by the receiver, so Garrett has to get creative. A customer left a speak and spell, so he uses that to communicate. 

He doesn’t have a lot of time, so he chooses his words carefully. Something that can’t be confused with anything else. 

“C…O….M….E…..F…I….N…D…..M….E….”

His brother always just hangs up the phone. Which Garrett finds to be a little bit rude. Their mom raised them better than that. He’ll have to remind him of that when they meet again. 

Mike takes the job, thankfully. And the kids do their part and stay away. Cassidy is noticeably absent most of the week, but Garrett has bigger things to worry about. 

The one and only thing that gets in his way during the week is the stupid music box. Whenever it’s played, he’s forced into a deep slumber. A deep slumber with the same monsters that have tormented him all these many years. And there’s no way to disable it, Garrett’s tired - many times. 

Fortunately, his brother slips up. He falls asleep at the security desk, head pillowed by his arms. The music box slows down until it stops entirely. 

Garrett maneuvers the marionette, maneuvering it through hallways and into the main office. He watches his brother sleep, a peaceful look on his face. Putting the marionette down, he creeps closer. 

He touches Mike’s forehead, setting the final part of his plan into motion. 

Garrett stands in the same forest that he was kidnapped from. The sun is out, shining down through the treetops. 

“Mike!” He calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Mikey!”

“Garrett!?”

Garrett whirls around to face his brother. “Mike!” He shouts, practically launching himself at his brother. It has been way too long since he could hug him. 

His brother hugs him tightly, body wracked with sobs. Tears stream from his eyes, but Garrett chooses not to mention it. Mike has always been weird about crying, especially in front of people. Which strikes him as odd, given that their parents used to encourage them to cry if they had big emotions. 

“I…I’ve missed you,” Mike murmurs. 

“Missed you too.”

“And I’m sorry. I should have-” 

Garrett cuts him off. This is supposed to be a happy moment, and he isn’t going to let his brother spiral into unhappy thoughts. “Nope. Not here. Not today.”

Sniffling, Mike nods. “Okay…yeah. Sorry.” He returns to hugging Garrett. 

Eventually, when they pull away from each other, he takes his brother by the hand. “I want to show you something.”

And his brother accepts his hand without thinking twice, because of course he does. Mike has no reason not to trust him. They walk through the forest, underbrush crunching under their feet. 

“Uh…Gar…where are we going?”

He smiles at his brother, who now looks exactly how Garrett remembers him. A child only five to six years older than him. “Not much longer now. You’re going to love it.”

His brother mutters something under his breath, but he ignores it. 

They arrive at a clearing. It’s full of flowers. Daisies and roses and sunflowers as far as the eye can see. Garrett turns to his brother. 

“Do you like it?”

“It’s…pretty…” Mike says, sounding a little unsure of what to say. “Did you do this?”

“No.”

“Then who-”

“Do you want to stay here forever?”

His brother looks at him, confused. “What?”

“Do. You. Want. To. Stay. Here. Forever? With me, I mean.”

“Gar, I…can’t. We have a sister now, and she still needs me.”

That’s what he thought Mike was going to say, but it doesn’t hurt any less. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Mike asks, backing up a little bit. 

“Okay. I understand.” He doesn’t. It’s not fair. Why is Abby more important than him? He knew Mike first. “Before you wake up, can I have a hug?”

“Sure,” Mike says, though there’s a slight hesitation in his words. Like he’s afraid of Garrett, which is ridiculous because he wouldn’t hurt his brother without a good reason. He wraps his arms around Garrett.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” he whispers. Before his brother can ask what he means, Garrett plunges a knife in his back. His brother falls back.

Garrett stands over him, watching him wraith around in agony. “It’s going to be okay,” he tries his best to sound reassuring. He steps forward, knife poised in the air. 

“N-no! Stop, Garrett! What are you doing?” He scoots backward, using his arms to shield his face. 

“It’s going to be okay. I promise.” Garrett strikes his brother’s chest with the knife, making sure to hit his heart. The less suffering he puts Mike through, the better. 

His brother cries out one last time. 

He smiles down at his brother. All the pain will be worth it, he silently promises Mike. 

We can finally be together again….forever. 

[my-jokes-are-my-armour]

I'm sorry to drop a very long post. I wish there was a "read more" section in the app post editor 😬. But here come a big analysis...

Jaskier is treated as a plot device

[This is sarcasm 😉 but it illustrates what I am saying there]

From the beginning, he has been used like that, but in the first season it didn't bother me that much, because even as a plot device, it was done correctly. For example, he was added to the story of the Law of Surprise. In the book, this is a random bard playing at the banquet. Linking Jaskier with the affliction Geralt experienced made the concept of Destiny explained by Mousesack more tangible. The more Geralt tries to avoid his destiny, the more trouble he gets into and, in the series, Jaskier is the key that locks Geralt into the path he tries to escape, without knowing it. Then when everything fires back at him, it has meaning even if it hurts because of all the implications of the rejection for him.

In the season 2, he is a plot device again, one that is from the book (the torture scene) and then he is used to get a lot of parts together, especially in the end. The problem is that he is more than a side character and he has flesh, so reducing his role to tropes too much creates frustration.

If I take Dara who has a plot device trope attached to him too. It's OK because he really is a side character. He links partially Dijkstra to Jaskier. And with the ending, he will clearly be a link to the Squirrels and Ciri.

Istreed and Stregobor too are plot device driven characters. In the book they appear just once, each in their short story. In the series they are used to set up part of the background lore and the human society, especially in regards of the elves. Those changes don't bother me.

Back to Jaskier. The problem is that he is not a side character, even if secondary. He has a strong emotional root and is important for Geralt development, especially for what's coming. He is set up like that and this is right but that's why we can't have him just being emotionally ignored all the time to fulfill his tropes duties.

Tropes for Jaskier in season 2 and the growing frustration

In the books, Jaskier links some things together also, but we have plenty of bonding moments. I am aware that some of those moments are too slow and contemplative to be integrated in a TV show, but even shorten or different they are good. Sometimes they do, and I like it. Yennefer finding Jaskier, Geralt and Ciri by the fire, Geralt and Vesemir talking about parenthood.

As for the tropes we have :

Jaskier is the main link that connects the core destined family to Dijsktra and the Redanian Intelligence. That is correctly done.

I won't drift on Yennefer global storyline, but I have to mention it because Jaskier is used as a trope mostly for her. And as much, I loved when he interacted with her, everything else was pure trope, almost not hidden at all. And that leads to the "Geralt doesn't care for Jaskier" general feeling.

Let's get into this problematic really trope driven part, in detail.

It begins when Yennefer teleports to Voleth Meir. This is already a trope because she lost hope out of nowhere. She had just to turn her head to see that Jaskier was in back up. But he is here just to witness.

Then, at Melitele's temple, Yennefer tells Geralt that Jaskier was in trouble in Oxenfurt. We clearly see that he is concerned but the dialog was written to close this conversation quickly. Geralt doesn't ask "what happened to him" but "what kind of trouble". So Yennefer says the strict minimum, avoiding anything that could have led to guilt. So with that Geralt knows that Jaskier is in Oxenfurt, conveniently before Rience's attack and Yennefer's betrayal.

Desperate, the witcher rushes to his only friend. He frees him and the reunion is half perfect, half frustrating. Perfect because we had the hug, the emotions and all. But frustrating because the moment Jaskier tries to express his feelings about what Geralt did to him on that mountain, he is shut up.

I get Geralt's point of view, and I accept it. But what comes after destroys almost any emotional implications.

The scene in the lake was there purely to connect the dots. Yennefer and Voleth Meir. Jaskier is there to give Geralt the missing parts he needs. That's all. To hide it a little bit more, it could have been done without the "bath" part, with the two guys walking together and having a bonding moment.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed parts of this scene, especially Jaskier lines and Geralt navigating Jaskier's usual nonsense vibe. And I salute the efficiency. But I didn't need efficiency at that moment, nor this kind of fan service. I needed some catharsis for Jaskier. But the tropes are more important, apparently.

Then conveniently again, here are the dwarves. Geralt gets what he needs, Jaskier just waits until the plot moves forward. Then we have the "I'm sorry" scene that is lovely overall, and I was like "finally !". But it opened a new frustration with this line : "this is different".

Jaskier needs an apology from Geralt for the mountain, and we know that he shares some pain with Yennefer. He understands her. So he tries to connect the emotional response of Geralt on the mountain when he was so hurt that he hurt him back in his rage, to the fact that Yennefer is currently hurt too and hurts him blindly just the same. But with this "this is different", in a way, Geralt negates the depth of Jaskier's resulting pain of his actions.

[This is different - hmmmff]

Jaskier accepts the apology, takes his feeling back, because he understands that it leads nowhere and jokes about Geralt's lack of empathy which is a nice interaction, by the way, but the hurt is done once more. And it will be amplified later.

Encouraged by the dwarves he follows just to be shocked as he catches the cut head of a soldier, for comic purpose only. Jaskier is there to bring back Ciri to Kaer Morhen. He could have stayed with the dwarve lady. Why this unnecessary chock ?

Then we have a nice display of trust with Geralt giving him the responsibility of his child. This is one of the rare moments we can see that Geralt values him, because he trusts him to take care of his child. And the moment when it happens says a lot about the depth of his trust. But this is just to be rejected by Ciri seconds later, for comic purpose again.

And then at Kaer Morhen for the final fight, he is the summum of plot devices with the stone. From the moment he leaves Yennefer at the laboratory, he literally has no importance at all as a human being. He is just the stone with legs. And the worst of it is that we can see that it matters to the character to accomplish his mission, because he thinks he can be useful. And in the end, when his tropes duties are fulfilled he is tossed aside for comic purpose once more.

So when came the time of bonding between the three main characters, I was very crossed about the fact that the family core was specifically restricted to the three of them. In the words of Geralt : "us three, we'll help each other". Why specify the number ? We already know they are bonded by destiny. We already understood that they are the core. I mean the whole season 1 was built in a specific way to tell us that. That "three" triggered me in a bad way because of Jaskier's rejection moments before. Because it was another form of rejection, even if this one he didn't hear.

The problem is : if the character had no specific emotional background or development, this could be OK. But he has, and a strong one. Jaskier is shown to be very empathetic and raw in season 2. He is hurt. He goes through a lot too. But he is denied comfort all the time.

To be comfortable with his storyline, either way too much was shown or not enough. I'll go for the second. They want to tell too much in a too short format. They compressed, changed too much from the source material to fill in. I found some interesting things in the bad deviations but some characters suffocate in return. Jaskier is one of them.

And the brain is a formidable machine. He links the dots by itself and makes the connection we need. But in this case filling the gaps makes everything cruel for the character.

Let's take a look at the main things that create those gaps.

Jaskier's alcoholism

There are two things I prefer much more from Joey!Jaskier than from Book!Jaskier. First, he is more romantically driven than sexually. Secondly, his alcoholism has an explanation. In the book, he drinks since teenagehood and just drinks a lot. Sometimes there are comic purpose to it but nothing more. Well I mean from where I'm at in the books, there is no other purpose than that.

In the series, they kept a surface comic relief but there is a clear sad end to it, which makes everything bitterer. Jaskier drinks too much when he is not well. That's set up in the first season in Bottle Appetites. When he finds Geralt, he is drunk and finishing what seems like a strong alcohol flask. The reason, he says it himself : He is heartbroken, because his muse has left him.

This is the only moment, in the first season, we see him being drunk.

In the second season however, alcohol is omnipresent. Before we even see him, there is already a hint that he is drinking too much. Yennefer hears him half through Burn Butcher Burn. If anyone needs me, I'll be at the bar. Then we have the song itself to tell us how much heartbroken he is. And we know why and by whom. So… This is not a surprise to see him drink in his following shots.

When Yennefer finds him and looks inside the tavern through the window, he has an empty glass in this hand and soon asks the bar maiden to have another drink. It's early in the morning and he is already drinking. The bar maiden makes a face of disapproval and seems concerned but Yennefer comes and she just goes away.

Then the whole scene of reunion is punctuated by Jaskier's alcoholism. (I am not having this conversation without a drink - Offers Yennefer alcohol to drink over Geralt's absence in their lifes - Slurs words trying to find better booze, illustrating that he is not sober - Always has a bottle in hand)

Like I said there are comics elements into that but what the background of this scene is telling us is that Jaskier isn't well at all. He is heartbroken (Geralt) , traumatized (Bleobheris) and his empathetic side is perpetually hurt (the general elven situation in Redania where he fights his own way). He is drowning himself in alcohol to anesthetize himself. This is a very strong emotional set up.

Then we have the goodbye scene when the emotional link between Yennefer and Jaskier is settled for good. They share pain. They understand each other from a profound invisible wound. She is a sorceress without magic, he is a poet without his muse. Geralt is the chaos of his magic.

This is a very good bonding moment. Then we have the torture scene which is another pike of emotional distress for Jaskier. Then the prison… even if it is comical again in the delivery, listen to the song carefully. It's sad…

It's been a long time travellin' / On roads that lead to nowhere / With hopes and dreams that always rot.

Sometimes it takes a prison cell / The tricks and tales, the traitors' tell / To help you see that freedom is all you've got.

Even the chorus is hard : So lock me up and sock me up and throw away the key.

It is fun because Jaskier keeps his internal light going and finds his way of freedom by harassing the guard.

So till this point, they set up an emotional bomb for him. But they didn't allow him to explode or to be comforted to prevent that. When Geralt frees him from jail, he may be fully sober for the first time in a long time. He begins to let things go but is shut up as I said before. But then we know what happens. Zero catharsis and rejections, with the dwarves, Ciri and we can guess the witchers too, from what happens next for him.

As we don't see him healing from previous emotional hurts, they are adding powder to his bomb.

So when Yennefer finds him sleeping in Kaer Morhen, the only conclusion we can have seeing him sleeping with a bottle and being hangovered is that he went out to the drain again and drank to oblivion. The brain connected the dots. Sure it's light again in the surface narrative but he is not well and...

No-one cares…

If it wasn't for the interactions with Yennefer, that I found lovely, I have a big problem with Jaskier at Kaer Morhen because the plot device trope ends up with him just being humiliated. Not because he can be clumsy or annoying sometimes, but because he is not wanted. And it's not his fault, not in the slightest.

We have another strong setup for the emotional bomb that is waiting to explode, back at Cintra.

Geralt gives him the responsibility to go with Ciri, at Kaer Morhen. So he is in the fortress because Geralt asked him to, not because he chose to.

But the only interactions we can see of him with the other witchers makes everything else inconfortable. As we don't see anything else but rejection or disinterest, the brain filling the gaps again, the only conclusion we have is that he is not welcome but we don't know why. The fact he is drinking back on the fortress tells at least that he is not well again. And it's bad enough for him to sleep with a bottle, like a comfort object.

Then again, he helps as much as he can. He goes through the big fight against the basilics with a hangover from outer space, without any context or any skills to have a chance of survival. He is just invested with the mission Yennefer gave him, and tries to give his stupid rock to Geralt.

And just to add how much unimportant he is. This is the fact that Lambert pushes him out of his way that fulfills his purpose as the rock plot. By the way, Lambert could have killed him doing so, because Jaskier fells in the middle of the room in the same direction that the basilisk is going…

[Get off my way bard...]

Then everyone is bonding except him. His very last screen time is used to make a joke about another rejection.

When you join that with his silent wounds, it makes him a very sad clown. He is nothing more than an object in that room for the others (except Yennefer, though they are not speaking but they share something emotionally).

I'm pretty sure there are a lot of things that were cut down in this big scene, and maybe something more than just pure action. There are small hints that Geralt hears Jaskier screaming his name but chooses to stay focused on Ciri, for example, and there is a forced comic relief when Jaskier is crawling his way to him under the tables. There is this line that was just put over. Maybe it was from another take where it had more sense. But this way, it's used as a diversion of how dire the situation could be for him and it reinforces the plot device use of the character, nihiling his own struggles.

I don't mean like they have to focus on him, in this situation. The problem is that if something is shown, then it has meaning, and if it's not shown then it has meaning too. So if we see how much is hurt and then not a single character even asking him if he is OK once, then the only thing told is that no-one really cares for him. That's as simple as that.

Conclusion

There is little chance that Jaskier will find catharsis about all of that in the next season. And if they follow the story for his part this will lead to another bunch of bitter moments.

But because Joey plays Jaskier and gave him so much soul, I love the character to bits and I need more of him... So I waiting...

[fallecupid]

୧୧ TEMPTATION ( DAEMON TARGARYEN )

.ᐟ.ᐟ warnings :ㅤ dom!Daemon.ㅤsab!reader.ㅤau where you are the only child of Viserys.ㅤnsfw content.ㅤdeviations from the canon.ㅤword count: 5,7k+

author's note : i apologize in advance for errors in this text / vague wording / words that are incorrect in meaning (if any are present in the content.) english is not my native language, everything written below has been translated by a translator.

An unwanted heaviness wrapped Daemon's hitherto listless body as his eyes took in the familiar hem of the dress that so often loomed before his eyes in the chambers he'd been graciously assigned to stay in. Not that it was upsetting; Daemon wasn't one of the top ten desired guests within the castle walls, especially for the resentful members of the small council. Still, he was the one who had made a modest contribution to the well-being of the place.

Ignoring the unsolicited pleasantries, the prince's thin eyebrow arched in mute surprise as soon as you were a few meters away from him, sitting on the opposite side of a wide table laden with food for every taste, be it piglet or vegetable stew, cakes or fruit. It wasn't even close to you, your soft and supple flesh, when it was in his hard, calloused hands for just a moment.

It would be foolish to deny that a man with a reputation like his couldn't get a glimpse of Viserys' daughter, you little pain in the ass. Just a couple hours ago, his stone walls and skinny curtains were the only witnesses to the heated pleasures that had a cycle of cat and mouse games, fleeting teasing and provocation behind them. You were fueling his ardor, squeezing all the common sense out of him, just making Daemon a puppy dog, rushing to the scent of your perfume.

A man of ambition, the epitome of callous cruelty and absolute willfulness. Just for a moment, the idea that he could become a blind tosser is ludicrous.

An unaccustomed impatience seeped into his steely blood, every damn nerve in his brain flared, and his hand involuntarily touched yours, trying to get your attention. Successful. Not that you were enjoying this feast as much, in honor of what? You didn't even give away the details. The mere look in his violet eyes said it all at once; in this situation, words would only have added to the atmosphere. Daemon could have sworn if he'd uttered a word, it would have turned to a breathless, hoarse whisper.

As if on cue, his taut body rose from the lush couch, already heated under his pressure: an indication that the man had been in this room for at least an hour, waiting for you to clean up so he could run right off with him. It's ironic.

As you strode confidently out of the common room, apologizing for your impending absence, the prince had the nerve not to try to hide the fact that he was following you. The first room you came across - thank goodness it was Daemon's quarters. There's nothing between you, no stares, no outside noises of squeaky voices... just you and him.

The prince's calloused fingers didn't want to wait and immediately latched onto your waist, completely disenfranchising you.

"You feel it too?" He whispers, his cool tip of his nose already almost warm at the curve of your neck. The question is clearly rhetorical; the prince doesn't expect you to answer. Your trembling passed to him as well, and white teeth peeked out from beneath thin lips, already targeting a pleasing part of your skin. It was only a fleeting bite, and your plump lips were already parted in a long moan, making Daemon's body tense, trying to get used to the familiar sound.

He was amused by this youthful ability to readjust quickly, seemingly you'd already done it earlier in the morning, and it felt like it was new to you. He had to strain his ears to hear your mumbling, muffled by his shoulder, which you'd already managed to jab at earlier.

"...Fuck foreplay." The only thing he could make out... or the only thing he wanted to hear. Of course Targaryen could have spit on all the kissing and caressing and slipped his cock inside you without a second thought, but that was boring as hell. The prince glowed as you wriggled in his grasp, desperately begging for more. You signed up for this, this man knows his own worth and always makes his own rules.

Daemon shook his head, refusing to let things go anytime soon. "No." Short and sweet. A devilish grin lit up his grin, and his lips crept lower, to the base of your cleavage, his path accompanied by your sobs mixed with muffled moans. His fingers moved with a gentleness that was unique to him, traveling to the base of your thighs. The mere sight of your flushed face made him question the purity of your blood, when did Targaryens get so slimy? Either way, it wasn't Daemon's concern at the moment. His mind focused on you and only you.

Continuing on his way, his fingers struggled to free your breasts, clinging to the threads of your dress. It was too costly to undress a woman, and in one easy motion it was torn and flown into a dark corner of the room. Lifting your body, almost weightless to his hands, you collapsed onto the lush bed: he hovered over you, gazing into the pitifulness of your situation. You looked like a cornered doe: your eyes couldn't catch his, and your lips clenched and unclenched, giving away the nervousness of the moment. You protested, and you weren't going to retract your words.

The man shook his head, his hand moving up to your cheek, the softened skin beckoning to him, sagging slightly under his tenderness. Daemon left the gentlest of kisses on your forehead, his lips dry, only so it felt like a fleeting touch.

"You're testing me, princess." His body almost rested against yours, letting you feel all of his curves and swells. The man reached for his pants, pulling them down just below his hips.

"Get what you wanted." Without letting you look down, his lips pressed against yours as you felt his dignity inside you. He kissed you, his tongue skillfully swirling yours, giving it some semblance of a dance. The tenderness of the kiss stated with the roughness of his accomplishment below. If it were his will, he'd been toying with you until the wee hours of the morning, but damn, that pitiful face makes him look like a docile cat.

The man's lips pulled away from yours, giving you a chance to spill out in a long moan, biting down on your lip painfully. A thin trickle of blood showed between your teeth, staining them red. Pulling away slightly, he let his hand slide down to regularize the position. His face leaned even closer and his tongue tasted the metal, licking up all the blood. "Calm down, princess."

The sight made him laugh, and down below you felt the thrusts again, his hands pressing you against him, trying to ease it for you. Each time it became more intense, making you cry out. Daemon's fingers covered your mouth, whispering into your ear. "Hush woman, there are servants, knights want behind these walls..." He teased. His movements continued, at the critical moment he clamped down, a moan of satisfaction escaped his lips as he finally embraced you, resting his face against the base of your neck where the hickeys were already beginning to trace. That wasn't his problem, though.

Daemon lifted his head, taking your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes. "Did you like it, princess?" The man smirked knowing exactly the answer. "Yes." You said the words, still trembling slightly and used to this quick sensation.

[hezuart]

The concept art of LN2 are so interesting.

Different kids, Mono and six working together (six removing a log and both of them giving food to each other) more kids, concept art of kids being connected into TVs, the weird baby creature, Thin man smiling (distributing), even appearing in some locations ominous watching over Six and Mono, the flesh walls reaching out to Mono from the tv etc.

Ln2 gives me Akira + Dark city + city of lost children vibes .

It has so much intriguing concept art, at times I feel like the game we got wasn’t the complete vision of the developers, I feel like they had to cut corners or drastically change the story to meet the deadline.

As much as I love the game, is so vague in it’s storytelling it becomes frustrating.

What was Mono and Six’s end goal? We don’t even know. Same with the thin man. There are lot of widely accepted theories (the time loop, that thin man was looking after Six, Dark Six is six’s souls) but the truth is we don’t know what’s truly going on.

On first game we were absolutely convinced that The lady was Six’s mother and that later got disapproved.

But at least we had a clue about what was going on, in ln2 we don’t have any idea of anything.

I wonder if that was intentional or if it’s just a byproduct of the game being rushed in development and still miraculously being added as a positive for the game (is so vague it keeps people talking and theorizing about it )

you speak the truth, my friend!!!

Yeah the thin man smiling is definitely the creepiest. The concept of him seems like he truly became one with the tower, like he's empowered by it. He puts on a creepy broadcaster fake smile, but seems to love the attention. He loves to manipulate the masses; those kind of vibes. The doctor's head cut straight off is wild. I'm also disappointed we didn't get a train scene, a proper one, with Six and Mono sitting on a train together, or the Thin Man appearing from an elevator just out of the blue. That would have been so freaky. And yes, right??????? The game doesn't feel like the true vision! Its so vague and feels almost unfinished??? Man did we need those DLCs....

Mono's end goal was to reach the door, he felt a compulsion to tune into the tvs everytime they called out to him. When the Thin Man first appears, Mono even walks towards him with his hand outreached and Six is shaking her head in distress, reaching for him to try and pull him away, but then decides to run away instead.

It's almost like Six's compulsion in the first game, to seek out and consume the Lady. Their goals, or rather their futures, tend to have a lot to do with the dreams they have at the very start of the game. It's a compulsion, or maybe a premonition. The game is called "Little Nightmares" but also the fact that if you die, the game reloads the kids in a fetal position on the ground. They gasp, as though waking up from a nightmare; as though they had just fallen asleep. I never thought much of it at the time, but now that we know this game involves a timeloop that the kids may or may not be aware of... it's intriguing.... highly interesting... these nightmares or dreams are telling them their futures. As though perhaps just maybe they've lived it before? It seems like a supernatural higher calling, something or someone reaching out to them.

Yeah, I've heard a ton of theories. Six's mom. Six herself from another timeline. Six is part of the "Sisterhood of Ladies" that all ran the Maw, like a successor story. Regardless, Six has a connection to the Lady SOMEHOW, because her concept art, of her with long hair in a yellow raincoat, is literally hidden as a portrait deliberately seen in the Lady's bedroom, kinda hidden by a wall.

Yes, agreed. In LN2, the most I could figure out, is that there is an "epidemic" of sorts destroying the city. A majority of people are obsessed with televisions, and the longer they watch, the more damaged their bodies become. They start losing body parts; their faces become distorted, until some of them even disappear completely; leaving nothing but clothes behind. On top of this epidemic, there is MAJOR terrestrial damage to not only the city, but also the surrounding forest. There are HUGE crevices and trenches that split apart the ground by several feet; they are dangerous hazards, as though the earth itself was sliced into. It is unclear if this is caused by the radio tower signal (Mono is able to move the city buildings when he usurps his previous self) or something bigger. The Hunter is merely a serial killer in the woods who kidnaps people and kills and stuffs them. Perhaps something to do with insanity. What we don't know is why initially he keeps Mono and Six alive. (Does he not kill kids? He tries to kill them after they escape. Why keep them though? It even seems like he gave Six a music box and kept her alive all this time. Is this some kind of weird... situation where he keeps them as pets? its unclear. ) The doctor on the other hand, initially in his concept art I think he assisted in kidnapping children and hooking them into the tvs. I think children and their imaginations or energy was initially gonna be used to fuel the tv; they would be making the channels that entice the people to become addicted and ultimately sucked into the tower. But in the final product, the doctor is actually a bit more of a heroic figure. He is taking the leftover body parts left behind by the citizens and trying to piece them together with artificial body parts. Its a twisted form of necromancy. A twisted way to try and "save" his patients. To "save" the city. (He had the nosebleed girl locked away in a cell in the hospital though, and at some point captures her in the comics. I don't know what he does with her or why he was keeping her prisoner. That's never explained.)

As for the teacher and the school, that is probably the most confusing. She's teaching porcelain children, they're not real and yet they can move. They have personalities. Some of them can even function with a half-broken face. How is this possible? Who made them? And why? In the comics, there's only one real boy who used to go to the school. The lollipop kid. The porcelain kids gang up on him and he has to fight them to defend himself. Were children being kidnapped from school? To fuel the tvs? Whats the excuse for the final product? Were they being replaced by these dolls so no one would notice? Why is the teacher teaching these fake children? There's even a closet full of dunce caps, that eerily look similar to the nomes. Is this just a coincidence, or does it have higher meeting? And what on EARTH was with the teacher's study?! Where she had a chessboard and a child king strapped to one of the middle pieces. Why did she have a map with a giant eye drawn over it??? What in the world??? I feel some conspiracy theories brewing. They were also going to have a lunch lady in the concept art, but then they killed her off. Why do these porcelain children even need to be fed? They don't have stomachs! What is going on here??? Are real humans just being replaced by fake.... ghosts??? Or something? What is happening here And the Thin Man just kinda sitting in a chair until Mono can free him while its a tragic story it also doesnt make a lot of sense. Throughout the story we encounter several glitching remains. When did the Thin Man have time to snatch these children? Can he actively travel back in time? Because Mono encounters several of these glitching remains WHILE THE THIN MAN IS STILL IMPRISONED! So how could they be glitching if the Thin Man hasn't escaped? Again, the only thing I can think of is time travel, and even then- whats the point? The original motive for why he kidnapped children is no longer viable in the final product. And he was busy keeping Six imprisoned on top of chasing down Mono! (And what was he even gonna do with Mono? Kill him? That's himself! He freed you!)

and why on Earth is Shadow Six acting smarter- why can she move- why and how does she even follow Mono on his journey???? She's SIX'S shadow! Not Mono's! ANd yet she's following him, and then guiding him out of the train station to the top of the sewer line to confront his fate- When all the other glitching remains we've encountered act like they're trapped in time? They don't move or interact with Mono or even acknowledge him. Why is Six different? Six's shadow from the first game was just a creepy random thing they threw in there. They made an attempt to try and explain it in this prequel game, but I don't think they did a good job about it. Shadow Six being Six's "glitching remain" just doesn't make a lot of sense in comparison to her behavior vs. the other glitching remains. She seems like something very very different.

Also- the tower- what the hell is that thing. Its like... a giant blob? Of the citizens of the pale city? I don't know if they are in charge of the tower or if Mono/Thin Man are in charge of the tower, but the tower itself can change. Its a winding maze of doors and stairs and rooms. It actively changes. Hell, even Monster Six seemed to have some control over the environment. Every time Mono hit her music box, he was cast out and had to smash down a door with an axe to re-enter like he did with her when he first met her. Who is really in control here? (and what the heck is up with Monster Six!!! How'd this happen to her??? WHat kind of magic does the Thin Man possess??? Was the Thin Man even the one to do this to her, or was it the tower??? Or hell, was it even HERSELF????) and how did this tower come to be in the first place? If Mono is stuck in a continuous loop, then there's no way he'd be the creator of the tower. And the fact that the tower itself can seemingly defy space-time, does the tower consist of citizens from PREVIOUS timelines? That just continue to reabsorb their new time loop versions? How does that even work? Whats the point of this blob? Whats the point of this pocket dimension that defies space-time?

So... many... questions!!???

Honestly I feel like a lot of stuff from the first game also wasn't answered. Like the "ashes in the maw". Why are children kept and cared for on the Maw and not all immediately turned into nomes? Why is there an eyeball that turns them into stone? Why does the Lady keep a jar of children's statue ashes in her quarters? Who the heck are the shadow children???? What kind of business are they even running??? They fatten up people only to turn around and kill them and maybe even TURN THEM INTO FOOD? (the shoe room indicates this) you're gonna run out of customers with this method! The Lady I guess eats them?? Or their souls rather?? and then the chefs just reuse the body 'cuz hey, free meat. And then the Lady I guess takes pity on the children maybe??? Idk???? She sucks out their youth, turns them into these weird nome creatures that become slaves to the Maw (its indicated they work to keep the engine running, but why? Whats the point? They dont get anything out of this deal. Unless they were just helping Seven/RK escape then it makes more sense but...) it just seems weird she wouldn't also kill them by sucking out their souls completely. She only does that to the adults. (But then why even turn the children into statues??? Do the statues have to do with her shadow children servants??? flksdjglkf???) I love mysteries, but Little Nightmares really pushes it with their vague concepts. They're like "Its left up to interpretation!" When in reality its more like "We don't really know, we'll let you guys try and figure it out for us" without giving us any solid evidence or clarity

[triplesilverstar]

Being eaten shouldn't be considered normal

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Canon-Typical Violence, Death, suspicion, Emotional Hurt, Medical Inaccuracies, Gunshot Wounds, Blood, Blood and Injury

Word count: Roughly 2.6K 

A/N: Chap 3 of A mysterious stranger and eaten, so I won’t lie. Episode 4 always makes me think of tremors. ALWAYS…

Three days after the destruction of Jeneora Rock you decide you're done waiting for Vash to snap out of his pity party of one, planning when you stop for the day to take him aside. Too bad Meryl almost makes someone into roadkill first, and you realize that today might not be the best day for trying to find some alone time.

You have no time to react, senses still reeling from the pain in your skull, but you do feel a set of arms wrap around you as you find yourself surrounded by sand and falling. The sudden loss of firm ground under you, adding to your current disorientation. All your body does is instinctive, reaching out to grab the fabric in front of you and pressing your face against it. The sudden vertigo makes you want to vomit, and you bury your face further into the fabric, feeling radiating warmth from the skin under it. You don’t feel the impact on the ground from the fall as the body under you absorbs it, but you do feel however when you’re adjusted and they remove your fingers from them and place you on the ground. The sound of rushing steps and crashing objects coming in through just the right ear. 

When your brain finally comes back around to wanting to accept input from your senses, you realize you’re sitting down on what can only be the insides of a worm. Great. You’ve been eaten. Sadly, not for the first time in your life, by a giant creature. “This is getting old real fast” before you can stand up a hand is placed where you can see it but from your Right side, causing you to flinch. From above you, you don’t see the shift of concern across Roberto’s face before you do take the offered limb to help yourself rise. 

You also miss when Roberto tells Vash “you should check on your bounty hunter” while everyone is gathering their senses and looking around. Vash seems to almost jump at his words, but looking at you he can see the disorientation still on your face. Approaching you wary, he knows how startled you can get with one of your senses essentially turned off and you’re trying to fiddle with your ear piece. 

“Here” you pause glancing at him and see his raised hands “Lets see if we can’t fix that ear piece of yours.” Nimble fingers reach up and he starts moving the controls before re-engaging the device, a visible flinch from your shoulder. The static is still there, just so much lower now and you aren’t sure if it’s from the changed setting or something else. “Are you in any pain now?” 

You shake your head, if you have to deal with the low whine you will, it’s better then it was “Any blood you can see around?” blinking the last of your tears away, you start looking around taking in the ground around you. 

“No blood, so that’s a positive right” there’s a hint of cheer to his voice, it’s partial fake cheer but it’s the most he’s spoken to you in three days so you’ll take it. “Let’s rejoin the others.”

Nodding you follow after him, looking down at the ground and bones scattered around, pausing to pick one up and inspect it. “That’s morbid” Roberto deadpans as you get closer, while you turn it in your hands. While it’s still whole you can see whatever the worm uses to digest its food has certainly been working on this, parts of the bone worn almost thin enough that you think a good squeeze would break it. Given the state of it’s breakdown, and how it’s dry to the touch, you have to assume worms have a slow process and notice shallow pools of liquid. Dropping the skull in, you watch as the liquid starts to form fine bubbles on the submerged portion. “I suggest everyone watch their footing for these pools.” 

Besides Vash you watch as Meryl looks up at the flesh ceiling above her, taking in the sights and almost stepping on another skull. 

“Watch where you’re walking little lady” the mystery man calls out, while Meryl looks down, almost jumping back as she makes a noise of surprise. And as a smaller worm crawls from the skull she screams louder, jumping away from the flying creature near her. You’d chuckle if it wasn’t so funny. 

“Wait a sec, check em out” the sound of his voice draws you away from laughing at the young woman's predicament, as the insides of the worm seem to turn green as the insect flies by. 

“It’s like they’re talking” as the lights flash you hear the static grow in your ear again, nowhere near as violent but you still flinch, imperceptible to anyone except Vash who’s too interested in the light show to notice. “I’ve heard something about worms being interconnected” Meryl seems fascinated as she watches, and you try to reach up and flick the volume down even lower. 

“You’ve heard right, that’s it’s detached electron network, the bigger the worm the more detached electrons it holds, judging by his size this guy must be a pillar of his community” As Roberto steps closer you watch as his eyes flick towards you. “Might explain why Snipes here is having difficulties. I don’t know how your earpiece works, but I'm guessing the detached electrons are interfering with its functions.” His words seem to bring the group's attention back to you, sadly just in time for you to flinch again from the static in your ear. A flash of concern on Vash’s face and you try to send him a reassuring smile, which based on his expression, tells you it didn’t do a thing.  

“Which means” you flick your gaze back to Meryl, for a reporter she is really bad at putting two and two together. 

Roberto does lean closer to her, the start of a maniacal grin on his face “Which means we're inside the head honcho, and our sniper is going to have hearing issues while we’re in here.” Near the end he flicks his gaze back to you “Can you handle yourself with your hearing affected?” 

“Yea, I mean, what’s a little bit of pain?” You’re trying to put on a fake smile and laugh it off, but you know the only person who seems to have bought it was Meryl. The look on Vash’s face makes your heart clench, it’s like he’s just realized how little the two of you have spoken in the past few days and he’s finally seeing how much you're hurting right now, the static, even low is a constant sound ringing in your skull. If you survive this you’re going to have one hell of a headache. 

Attention drawn from you as the child runs off, Meryl and Vash calling out for him to stop and you let out a sigh of relief. Glad to have the attention off of you, as you slowly follow after the other two as they run, leaving Roberto and the cross carrying man behind you. Watching as the child runs off, climbing up the raised tissue that leads up to another area inside the worm. You have to admit, you’re even more suspicious now at the way they climbed it. That’s a body that’s used to darting around and moving upwards, you’d seen similar movements made by predators on other worlds. 

“Come back!” Both Meryl and Vash are panting at the base of the climb, the stale air not helping their lungs and you’re glad you didn’t do the same. Making yourself more of a liability at the moment wouldn’t be smart, not with two unknowns in the area. Climbing up just ahead of Vash you don’t miss the brief press of his hand to your lower back when you stumble. At the top, the three of you stare at the four openings, shit. Why does this feel like a set up.

“Now, which one would our friend choose?” Vash is curious but the area provides no answers, not even a hint of light to show if the worm the child had been chasing had gone through one of the openings.  

“The kiddo is quite the twinkle toes” if this guy keeps making such sarcastic comments you’re soon going to deck him. You can only handle so much and with everything else going on he might be the straw that makes you snap. 

“Your toes might be twinkling if you would put down that cross.” Based on his tone Roberto is in the same boat as you, you just hope the other two have figured out something is up with the mystery man. 

“Sorry big man, can’t work without it, you never know when you might need an undertaker.” Last time you checked, undertakers don’t use crosses as their tools of the trade, and it hadn’t helped get the bodies ready to be buried earlier. 

“So, what are we doing here folks?” you speak up, wary of what might be suggested given the multiple tunnels ready to put a stop to it if the undertaker decides to go off with Vash. This setup is too perfect for all of you to be split up, and you’re starting to wonder if the two unknowns aren’t part of a gang of some kind. Starting to wonder if maybe your little group running into him had been an accident at all. You might not have been paying attention earlier, but the fact he just happened to appear in a vast desert right in front of the truck. The truck containing one of two independent plants on the planet. 

“Right then lets split up to look for the kid. The far ones yours needle noggin” the fact the undertaker is taking the lead follows right in with what you thought. Something else is going on here. 

“What, who me?” Vash seems surprised at the nickname and you try to catch his eye, you need to make sure he’s on the same page as you regarding what’s going on. He might not take action with his trusting nature, but you don’t need him stabbed in the back either. 

“Little lady, Sweet cheeks, you’re next to him” It takes a moment for his words to sink into your head.

“Pardon!” Did this little shit just call you Sweet cheeks!? There has to be a sneer on your face, certain you snarled at the nickname turning to angle yourself preparing to bite out a scathing remark. A hand hidden by your body reaches out and grabs yours, a thumb running over the knuckles of your fist. Head turning back to Vash, keeping your entangled hands out of sight, concern and a hint of amusement on his face. You catch his eyes flick to him then back to you and up to your rifle strapped to your back. At least your sunshine is aware something isn’t right about this whole situation. You swallow down your indignation, to an extent, the tips of your ears no doubt red from rage. The soft smile on his face does leave you calmer. At least if you’re paired up with Meryl, you can try and make sure nothing happens to the younger woman. 

Drawn back to the group as Meryl snarks at the undertaker “who died and made you King!?” It’s a valid question, but your attention as Vash’s hand slips from yours is more on Roberto checking his derringer. A small gun, but at least you don’t have to worry about the other member of your group that can keep a level head. 

“Hey we can’t waste time” before Meryl can argue further you place a hand on her shoulder gently, drawing her attention back to you. 

“Come on, Penny. I’m gonna be relying on you while my hearing is messed up.” That seems to bring a soft smile to her face, and you reach into one of your pockets, pulling a flashlight from it to hand her. “Lead the way. And you” you throw over your shoulder as you walk after her “don’t call me Sweet cheeks!” There are other words you want to say but you know any threat you utter won’t be taken seriously by the mystery man.

Moments later as you get on your hands and knees, rifle slung due to the narrow space, you hear a click across your ear piece. “For the record, you do have a nice butt Mayfly.” A flush rushes across your face, now is not the time for Vash to be flirting with you. “Stay alert, I know you’ve figured out something isn’t right, so look after yourself and Meryl. And try not to shoot anyone you don’t have too.” You can’t answer him right now, content to just let the others believe the tech in your ear is just to augment your own senses, though at the rate things are going you wouldn’t be surprised if Roberto has already figured out it’s a communication device. Or that you and Vash are on the same frequency.

As you crawl along Meryl is muttering to herself before she snaps “This is idioctic, I bet he’s just trying to make a buck. That weirdo profits off death!” you roll your eyes.

“I agree that he’s an idiot, Penny. But how would he profit off this? We aren’t paying that pathetic invoice he tried to pass off that I burned. So why would he think this might get a different response? Honestly. I’m more surprised he isn’t trying to cash in on Vash’s bounty.” 

“You mean like you did once upon a time?” Ahead of you she pauses a shudder racking her frame so you don’t bother to answer “Did you hear that?” You pause as well, but all you can hear is static, which when you verbalize the fact, does nothing to help her fraying nerves. “So, nobodies out there to get us, yeah?” Moving closer, you pat the small of her back hoping it comes across as reassuring and not creepy. 

“You’re probably just hearing the worm's organs doing their thing, Penny” Her head whips around to look at you, even paler than normal. That. Might not have helped things. The two of you start moving forward again, and the beam of light illuminates the child's body laying across the tunnel ahead of you. 

“We’re almost too you!” Meryl is, you’ve paused. Something isn’t right, the kid is lying horizontal across the tunnel like they’re injured. The placement doesn’t make sense if they were chasing after the worm and just stung, the venom should have dropped them so you saw their feet instead of their back. “I’m right here!” Before you can yell a warning not to touch the kid, the screeching static is back in your ear forcing you to shut your eyes in pain. 

You don’t have room to unsling Bertha, left wrist flicking and disengaging the ties that keep your baton secure against your wrist. Fingers around the handle you swing, extending the baton to its full length, and it cracks the worm that seemed to appear from nowhere against the walls of the cavern you were traveling down. A satisfying splat against the wall, and the static in your ear has gone back to the low hum. 

“My my. That’s quite the reaction you have there, I figured I’d have to deal with you first after all that snooping you did at the diner. You are far more aware of your surroundings than you let on.” You don’t know who the voice belongs to, but you’re starting to suspect it’s the child that’s been nonverbal up until this point. A short creepy chortle follows there words “Too bad you missed something” more laughter and screeching static for the third time fills your ear. “Enjoy your trip Ghost!”

And you’re overcome by the sensation of the floor falling out from under you again. This is why you don’t enjoy being eaten by leviathan class sized creatures.

Back to Masterlist for the series

[mormshaw]

Thoughts on Trigun Stampede

I can see why this new (reboot-retelling-reimagining-prequel?) show may be divisive for fans of the OG ‘98 show. But for me it’s an improvement on the ‘98 version in a lot of ways (not all ways, but many).

The OG anime was the VERY FIRST anime I ever saw besides a few episodes of Sailor Moon or Pokémon that I may have caught while babysitting. I saw it in high school (2003-ish?) after a friend of mine cos-played Vash for an anime convention.

While I really enjoyed the show (specifically Vash’s arc and character), there was LOTS I didn’t like and it informed my hot-and-cold opinions on anime for a long time.

I adored Vash; I loved the world building of the planet and concept of the PLANTS; I really loved the dynamic between the 4 main protagonists. The music was bad ass. The thematic questions of when is it okay to choose who lives and dies (and whether humanity deserves to be saved) were excellently developed, and the Christian imagery was *chefs kiss*

But the show irritated me in a lot of ways too. I hated what I dubbed ‘face-changing’ when the animation style would shift so suddenly from serious to exaggerated. I found the character design of most of the villains (and Milly if I’m being honest-not her character, her design) to be largely ugly. The animation was stilted and the frame rates were sooooo low even in big fight scenes. And Knives I felt was under-utilized as a villain and his conclusion a bit rushed.

I re-watched the OG before I started watching Trigun Stampede and my opinion stayed pretty much the same (with the added exception that I found Vash’s objectification of women- facade or no- early in the show to not fit tonally with his overall character and was a bit squicky).

But now I’m watching the NEW version and….I’m SUPER digging it. Almost ALL of the things that I disliked about the 98 version have been removed or improved upon and MOST of the things I liked have remained or been updated.

The story has less filler overall. One COULD argue that it is ‘rushed’ but with the announcement of a second season, I really don’t feel like things from before have been removed, just delayed until a later part of the story. The show is more tonally consistent throughout, something I found jarring in the OG.

I feel like the villains, especially Knives, are legitimately threatening, and in some cases are given sympathetic backstories which made them more fleshed out. I appreciated, for instance, Vash being given a history with Monev/Rollo. It made that fight more meaningful since they had a connection to each-other beyond ‘I’ve been told to kill you’.

I still really enjoy Wolfwood as a character here, and am enjoying seeing more of his past. His relationship with Vash is still extremely gripping/endearing. Love the use of Needle-Noggin again.

I think they’ve done something smart with Meryl by giving her development beyond learning to love Vash. She starts out naive here, which is NOT how she is in the OG, but she’s still as driven. I think by shifting her development over 2 seasons and almost treating this season as her ‘backstory’ she’ll be more interesting and three-dimensional for it by the time the show concludes. Not that I disliked her in the original, I just found her more bland than Vash, Wolfwood, and even Milly, as she was a more static character.

Let’s talk about ANIMATION. As stated above, I have no nostalgia for the animation of the original. I found the face-changing off-putting, the secondary character and villain design outside of the main protagonists to be hard to even look at (I’m not including Vash, Wolfwood, Legato, Knives here as they all have excellent and unique designs) and the actual quality to be cheap and stilted.

While I DO think that the OG hand-drawn animation could be a bit more unique and expressive at times in its shadows and lighting (think Vash and his blue glowing eyes in silhouette), this updated CGI animation has almost everything else in its favour for me. No face-changing or off-model characters! Clean, crisp lines! Dynamic and fast-paced movement! Clear and unique characteristics coming across in weight and mass and angles! Beautiful set dressing! Fantastic colours everywhere! Energetic camera tracking! Jacket!

I will say that one thing I keep going back to as something the OG does slightly better is Vash himself. I think he’s just a tad TOO soft-spoken in this version and his comedic and goofy facade has been lost a bit. He’s still fundamentally the same person as the original and he’s so engaging and sympathetic as a character- that remains the same if not better- but I feel his ‘spark’ may have been lost a bit in the re-telling. I’m glad they kept his original voice actor for the update, and I like his more mature performance here.

I’m of two minds on his redesign as well. Part of me loves the new arm and jacket and fluffy hair, and part of me wishes he had a bit more ‘presence’ on screen. He seems…smaller, somehow? His facial expressions are just right, though! He has that ‘older-than-they-look' softness about him that really comes across in his eyes and voice. I’m excited to see if season two continues to bring back more elements of the original character (sleeker, more inconspicuous arm design, and buttoned up coat, for instance).

Overall I’ve enjoyed revisiting Trigun in general, and I’m happy to have a production that has taken something that I loved but saw as flawed, and polished it up a bit and made it shiny and new.

9/10 would recommend.

[purrincess-chat]

Hey Cat! Did you like the new episode?

Okay, I finally watched both Revolution and Representation, and I can say off the bat, Revolution was the stronger of the two.

Obligatory spoiler warning if you're not caught up on ML.

An issue ML has always had is pacing, and I feel like Representation was very info-dumpy at times. Honestly some of that info should have been told in earlier seasons rather than all at once like that, plus it was a weird choice to go with the whole theater performance for that exposition imo, but eh.

Revolution was really good though in my opinion. I like how this season has been all about time or the lack there of. Gabriel is running out of time so he is taking bigger and bolder actions because he's getting desperate to accomplish his goal. On the other hand, Adrien and Marinette have been taking their relationship slow because they thought they had more time, but Gabriel's fuck up is becoming their problem too. There are a lot of moving parts this season for better and worse.

I loved seeing Adrien trying to communicate with Marinette but as always his father was in the way (indirectly this time through Chloe but still). I loved their kiss scene. You could say I'm a fan of big dramatic gut punching kisses like that as I've written one myself for them before. I love that Nathalie and Gorilla ship Adrinette (Gorilla tearing up after pulling them apart in the end that's adriens real dad yall!). Adrien trying to open the car door hurt my heart so much.

Then the whole Ladybug and Chat Noir growing up part. 💘 That was a top knuckle touch moment. I kind of wish it had come during a bigger battle like a season finale or some such, but it was still a touching moment with the citizens of Paris rising up to fight for them.

I also loved Marinette throwing Chloe's shit right back at her in the end. I know Chloe is young and deserves more redemption than Gabriel fucking lock my son in a padded cell because he won't break up with his girlfriend and I'm an adult psychopath Agreste, but at the same time, it's vindicating to see her lose everything. I've always thought that in order for Chloe to change she needed real consequences to her actions, and while I'm not holding my breath for a Chloe redemption, this is definitely going to do something to her for better or worse.

Representation was the weaker of the two imo. It just felt very disjointed and anticlimactic. I know it's setting up the finale, but it was kind of boring imo. The best part was Chat Noir fighting Gabriel and screaming his feelings at him. It's rare that Adrien gets to cutloose and speak his mind, especially to his father, so I did enjoy him telling his dad to get fucked. And how even when his whole world is falling apart, he still left his lady a cute voice-mail.

I am so OOOOOOO at the almost reveal. We could've had it alllllllllll. If he had stayed for 2 more seconds!! They were right there!! I hate them so much! I love them, but AHHHHH 😤

I did also like that Nino wore Marinette's crown the whole episode 😂 It wasn't much but it made me laugh.

Idk how I feel about Kagami and Felix knowing Marinette's identity, but I'm guessing since the finale is next and this is the end of the Agreste arc it likely won't matter much.

Idk. Overall, this season has been better than other ones as far as getting things moving and actually delving into the plot, which is interesting, but at the same time, I think they rushed a lot of things the past couple seasons. Again, pacing is a huge issue with this show, and I think if they just adjusted the sequence of events and spread some of the plot out more it would be a great show. I would have loved for Felix to be fleshed out more prior to Feligami happening. Senti theory should have been confirmed in s3, and we should have gotten that backstory back then. Or at least sprinkled throughout s4.

Curious for the finale. I'll be ranking the s5 episodes as well as adding them to my overall episode ranking after the finale airs and giving my final thoughts about the show as a whole up to this point. After that, I think I'm gonna take a bit of a break from ML. I'm going to visit my sister in a few weeks to see Taylor Swift (!!!) So, maybe I'll be back in August. I do also have a Zelink fic swirling around in my brain, so I might dive into that too. Idk I haven't written in like 6-7 months. I've been slow roasting some ideas though. I'm not completely abandoning ML, I promise! I will definitely stick around through at least mid s6 as far as keeping up with episodes, then depending on how s6 is going with the new writers will determine if I stay longer term. If I did drop off from watching canon tho, I'd likely still write fic for a while. I do love the kiddos and have lots of ideas left for them. You're not all rid of me yet.

Anyway, see you on the other side of the finale, lads. Godspeed.

[nerdy-talks]

Ok i have a couple of questions regarding the mangas you’ve read:

1.)for AoharuxMachinegun, what do you think of the last chapter? For me I didn’t like it bc it felt rushed especially how the blond dude and the green haired dude relationship problem got resolved. Also who do you ship from there?

2.)for Tokyo ghoul/re, what do think about the anime? A lot of Tokyo ghoul fans didn’t like the anime bc it detour away from the manga and the plot became odd… also what’s your thoughts on the manga and how it end?

3.)Black butler, what was your reaction when you found out that ciel has a twin brother? And what was your reaction when Agni ( the servant of the Indian prince) death? For me, everything was too much🥲… also what’s your thoughts on the anime?

4.)for Karneval, whose your favourite ship? Also I wish the English finish updating the manga bc the Japanese version is finish ad I’ve been waiting a long time for the translation.

5.)for vampire knight , ok so what’s your opinion on yuki, kaname, and zero weird ass and disappointing ending? Like I’m I the only one that was in disbelief that she chooses both of them and have kids with both them and that their children are lovers? Like why?

6.)for magi, what’s your thoughts on alibaba and morgianna relationship? For me I didn’t like how someone had to tell alibaba that morgiana likes him for him to start dating her. I don’t know it just didn’t seem fleshed out compare to morigana and hakyuu relationship.

7.)for Kiss him not me, did you see the side story with nanashima (blond haired dude) and shinomiya (brown haired dude that shows bottom vibes)? What’s your thoughts on it?

Ok that’s it! Sorry I wrote to long it’s just hard to find people who reads a lot of the same mangas as I’ve read.

Please don't apologize, anon! I genuinely appreciate your question(s), so thank you very much for sending this to me (:

Before I begin... Unfortunately, I have not finished/caught up with Magi or Kiss Him, Not Me! so I cannot properly answer those specific questions at this moment in time. So I seriously apologize for that ):

I also haven't caught up with the Karneval manga (I need to soooo badly, though!) But I have watched the anime a few times already. So I can at least answer that question lol

Karneval : I always liked Gareki X Nai in a "brotherly" sort of way. Like... the adorable little brother who unintentionally annoys their moody older brother lol And from what I've read (and watched), I do like Nai and Karoku together. But again, not in a "romantic" way. Note : Yogi is my favorite character <3

Aoharu X Machinegun : I wish this series was longer purely because I like it so much lol I didn't necessarily mind the last few chapters. But with any manga or story in general, I'm not a fan of rushed endings or rushed reconciliations. As far as ships... If Hotaru was not a minor, I would ship her with Matsuoka. I still do in an innocent/friendly way, but definitely not romantic. So honestly, I think I have to say Matsuoka and Yukimura. Note : Yukimura is my top favorite character :3

Tokyo Ghoul Re: : Overall, I really enjoyed the Tokyo Ghoul/Tokyo Ghoul Re: anime. But I definitely do wish they made Tokyo Ghoul Re: longer and stuck with the manga. The best way I can put it = I watched Tokyo Ghoul Re: before I read it, and I was a bit confused at certain parts because it was rushed and I felt like important information wasn't included. Which was confirmed after I read Tokyo Ghoul Re:. So in that regard... Yep, I prefer the manga. As far as how it ended, my one "complaint" is that I wish there was more solid information regarding Takizawa. Just leaving it at "his whereabouts are unknown" was very disappointing to me. He deserved better than that, in my opinion ^^"

Black Butler : I hope you don't mind, anon... but I'm gonna go on a little tangent here. I still love Black Butler and I always will, but I used to be a huge Black Butler fangirl back in the day (not the obnoxiously cringey kind, just the "silently fangirl irl and then go online to act out terribly OOC roleplays with close friends and write borderline trash fanfics" kind lol). So I have a lot to say, especially regarding the anime xD

When it was revealed that Ciel actually has a twin, a lot of things came together and made sense. Especially with different scenes that were depicted throughout the series. Like in Book of Circus/Noah's Arc Circus when "Ciel" was shown inside the cage, yet it looked like Ciel was also up on the altar being sacrificed. That's obviously just one example, but you get my point lol

Agni's death was sooooooo sad ): I liked Agni for several reasons, two of the biggest reasons being : 1. his utter devotion and extreme care for Soma and 2. The fact that Sebastian seemed to genuinely respect Agni. I mean... If you get a demon's respect, then I'm pretty sure you're golden haha xD But in all seriousness... The fact that Agni died protecting Soma really says it all. To borrow Sebastian's catchphrase : Agni was simply one Hell of a khansama </3

Regarding the anime : I really, truly wish they would make more seasons or OVAs or movies or something that follow the manga. I think Book of the Atlantic was animated beautifully, and I also loved Book of Circus and Book of Murder. Oh, and of course I loved the OG Black Butler, good ol' Season One. I remember there was a lot of controversy and hatred towards Season Two... But I honestly enjoyed it lol Yes, it did stray completely away from the manga and yes, it wasn't as good as the main storyline. But I felt a lot of feels when watching Season Two. I also had a lot of fun roleplaying with friends back then and writing fanfics and crack headcanons for Claude, Alois, and the others.

But yes... If I can have one wish, I would wish for more Black Butler in anime form that follows the manga c:

Vampire Knight : yeahhhhh..... Please excuse my language lovely anon and anyone else who may be reading this, but that is all kinds of fucked up, in my humble opinion lol I know people are into lots of different things, and that's great. Absolutely zero judgement here, you do whatever makes you happy. I also completely understand that Vampire Knight is a work of fiction, that Yuki and Kaname aren't real so they can't actually be related, and that the children Yuki had with Zero and Kaname are also fictional characters who don't exist in the real world so that makes their relationship non-existent. But come on, man.... Really? Why?? Lol

For context : I was probably around 14ish when I first started watching Vampire Knight. Yes, I'm an old geezer ;n; (not really, but I feel that way sometimes haha xD) It's a series I stumbled upon after I had finished Death Note, because I was looking for cheap anime DVDs I could purchase on Amazon. After reading the synopsis, I figured "why not". So for less than $10, I was able to pick up the first Volume of Vampire Knight (I own the complete collection of Vampire Knight and Vampire Knight Guilty on DVD, and there's a total of 6 Volumes/cases. If that doesn't make sense, please let me know and I'll just post a picture of them since that would probably be easier lol)

Anyway! Once it arrived, I got pulled into the story fairly quickly. That lead me to purchase the other DVDs until I slowly accumulated the entire series. In between, I had also started collecting the manga too. And even though it was quite a long time ago, I specifically remember ordering the boxset for the last part of the manga right before I finished the anime. Because I thought "I've enjoyed the anime so much, I need all of the manga too!"

But when I saw the scene where Kaname locks lips with Yuki, and it's revealed that they're siblings... The disappointment and disgust I felt was immeasurable xD

Personally, I preferred Yuki and Zero together anyway. But I would have been able to fully accept Kaname and Yuki ending up together.... Just... Why make them relatives?

Even though I own the manga, I honestly never finished reading it because of that. But I did read the wiki pages extensively and I certainly heard a fair share of rumors/spoilers lol (I actually heard the familial ties between Kaname and Yuki are even worse in the manga, so I'm kinda glad I didn't finish it) I know YukiXKaname's kid and YukiXZero's kid are a "thing", but didn't YukiXKaname's kid also have the hots for Zero at some point, too? I think I remember reading that somewhere before? Either way.... Not my cup of tea ^^"

Again, thank you so much for sending in this ask, anon! I really enjoyed replying to it, so please feel free to send more in-depth asks any time <3

[burning-fcols]

This was something he was really good at. You could say a lot about jerry. How he was a dork and loser. He would agree with you but he knew from his time on earth that he knew how to please a woman. Whether that be on an emotional level or what he was doing right now. Eating the fuck out of her pussy. His claws lightly sunk into the flesh of her thighs as his tongue flicks against her clit before exploring her insides.

-   ✩   「   @dorkydemcn​  」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   Lucille has never been touched like this before… Laid back upon the bed, clothes already discarded, she’s grateful for Jerry’s foresight. At first, she hadn’t understood why it was suggested she strip down. After all, he was only going to be paying attention to a certain part of her. As far as she knew. But now that things have begun, she wishes she could strip out of her wool too. Body overcome with a rush of heat she hadn’t expected, Lucille pants through the hitch of her breath when Jerry approaches.

Instinctively tensing at that first flick of his tongue— a gasp and surprised bleat slipping from the sheep —slender form loosens when the wet appendage carefully slides within her. Back arching when her virgin walls are penetrated by his tongue, Lucille holds the bedsheets in a death-grip, gasp trailing into a breathless moan. It’s an unfamiliar sensation, Lucille not having even played with herself much when she was alive. Never allowed too much privacy in her home, her large family prone to busting through doors when it happened to please them. Besides, she could never get the hang of it the few times she did attempt. Far too nervous to commit to fully exploring herself.

Jerry, however, seems to have no problem with it.

Lying against the mussed blanket, Lucille trembles at the feeling of Jerry expertly tasting her, already drenching the man’s mouth in her sweet juices. Eager pussy throbs welcomingly, stretching to accept every movement of his tongue. Eyes squeezed shut, she can barely differentiate the sensations washing over her, each one only adding to the haze of pleasure. From the stinging in her thighs to the warmth caressing her walls, it all swells within her.  ❝  J-Jerry…  ❞  She whimpers, needing to feel his name on her tongue.

Face flushing as she wonders how her body feels on HIS, Lucille tentatively asks,  ❝  Am- Am I doing alright? Do… you like this too?  ❞  She doesn’t know how she expects him to answer, praying that he doesn’t stop to do so. Dripping with desire, she can already feel pleasure bubbling deep down, threatening to explode the longer this is kept up.   「 ☆ 」

[notgoingwell]

(And I'll say this before I dive in: I've been wary of this show ever since it got announced. I dearly love this game – singular, as there is only one Tlou game. I was frightened this IP was just the next in a long line to suffer tragic death and deconstruction, as has become daily life in Hollywood today. -> embed unwarranted messages and twisted morality and turn every character into something they're not until there's nothing left to recognise. The point is: it would take a lot for this to convince me, even more so with the bad taste Tlou 2 left in my mouth.)

And with that being said, let's get to it: I am thoroughly underwhelmed by HBO's The Last of Us. So far (and I'll happily eat crow should it change), it feels like they're throwing member berries at us. They added tons of new scenes, cut others, and made changes that deviate from the game, yet when familiar scenes play out, sometimes even shot for shot, they, somehow, fall flat. And herein lies the problem: If you consider changing something that has worked perfectly before, then you'll have to do it with good reason, and beneficial to the story. Most of the additions thus far (and within a run time of 1:30h, they merely depicted the first 10-15 min of the game) felt like fleshing out on the wrong ends. Filler more than anything else. Some things took more screen time than they did contribute to storytelling, bringing no substance, no extra characterisation, whatsoever to the table. At one point, a few of those extras started contradicting themselves, and even lore. Ultimately, they don't enhance the story.

They began to lack emotional weight and significance, 'cause they were either missing scenes leading up to them occurring or feeling out of place altogether. To me, they felt like ticked-off boxes to justify it being a Tlou product. The watch? Check. Sarah? Check. (added bonus if we let her wear the exact same shirt as in the game, even though she feels like a different character in the show and the only indicator she's who we're supposed to believe she is, is because the show says so.) Recognisable outfits for respective characters? Check. Car driving sequence with rotating camera? Check. Death scene? Check. Quarantine zone? Check. Smuggle job from Marlene? Check. All these moments are depicted in the show, and yet they change how we get from point A to point B, or how a situation comes to pass and expect the story to follow and flow as it has in the games. A disruption, no matter how small, will affect the outcome and should be accounted for. "Why are you angry they adapt game sequences?" – I am not. I get angry when they change the context in which these sequences occur, and then expect the same payoff to work. I also do comprehend that sometimes you need to change a story to adapt for Tv, which is acceptable as long as characters are still recognisable and act as they're supposed to.

The first episode felt rushed, and none of the emotional beats stuck the landing thus far (for me).. which is not a promising start given that Sarah's death and her relationship with Joel play a significant role in his characterisation and development. Part of it may come down to, what I thought, was a mismatch in dialogue and acting. For example, when we were presented with the family dynamic between Sarah, Tommy and Joel: What they were saying – the snarky, familiar, insider-ish banter felt fitting – but it did not match their character's behaviour or body language. (and, I mean no offence here, but none of them had chemistry, much less enough to be considered family.) Hell... if the show had not shouted from the roof that Gabriel Luna embodies Tommy, Joel's brother, one never would've guessed so. They look nothing alike, a miscast as far as I'm concerned. And, am I the only one who thinks Sarah, as well as Ellie, look too old? Sarah, especially, was such a young, innocent soul in the game who woke up from her nap only to witness the beginning of the apocalypse. She had no idea what was going on. Utterly frightened, she observed what fell apart around her, until the tragedy of it all caught up with her, claiming her life before she could fully comprehend what was happening. Even more tragic considering how young she was, and how little time we got to spend with her. And it's in her age, innocence and behaviour that Joel sees Sarah in Ellie.

So, yeah. It felt rushed, big time. Some moments were not granted enough time to "breathe", and others were cut short drastically. (eg. Bite reveal) Makes you wonder what all this rush is for. What else will be shortened, or even dismissed? What content will take precedence going forward? Will they lean heavily into certain themes, and embed messages? Or, worse, are we rushing to get to part 2 as fast as possible? (Already scared about how we'll proceed, seeing how Tess' actress is scheduled for 5 episodes total when her game counterpart dies within the next 30 or so minutes. What else will we drag out or redundantly flesh out?)

That intro, too, was pretty average... okay... I'm jumping all over the place, so, I guess, I'll just tackle whatever comes to mind. For a series that is produced by a streaming service known for its high-quality, detailed and unique intros, it felt lacklustre. They were clearly imitating the game's intro, yet after rewatching it on Youtube, I kind of prefer it to its TV show counterpart. (it encapsulates the feeling of this world better: dark, gritty, black-and-white) and I'm left thinking: is it just another member berry? If you weave so many "new" perspectives and scenes into this, why not be consistent all the way through and create something creative that lines up tonally and in favour of said changes? And, where was the music in this episode? Whether you're familiar with the game or not, Tlou has an identifiable score, predominately, subtle atmospheric background noise with certain standout tracks, but it's there. Here? Not so much. I believe I've heard 1-2 tracks. That's it.

Random tidbits floating through my head:

-What was the point of Robert being there when his "segment" got cut from the show?

-Why IS Robert scared of Joel, exactly? See, this is the problem I mentioned earlier, if you cut out scenes and go forth unbothered, you'll come across issues. In the game, Joel brutally takes out a bunch of guys and thus proves his tough, threatening personality. (which also, I believe, grants him to take Marlene's job since he's the only capable person left?) Here? We've not seen him do anything that would indicate said reputation and validate Rob's fear. Where do we get the impression he's tough and has a threatening personality not to be messed with unless other people simply state it as a fact?

-Why is Sarah first displayed as a smart, know-it-all character and later turns into the most oblivious person, walking around like Shaun of the Dead, not acknowledging any signs? Felt almost comical.

-Sarah takes up more screen time than she contributes to the story, literally doing nothing. Why change the beginning and add neighbours, school, etc.? If you were to change anything, add more father/daughter moments and to their dynamic -> loss will be more devastating due to the increased emotional impact

-Why did they remove the spores? They presented additional threats and challenges, were part of the world and influenced its inhabitants. Now we're left with TWD but a fungus version... why? Weren't spores responsible for certain mutations? 

-Why did they force the flashback as Joel was about to attack when we clearly know what he'd associate it with? And why would he already see Ellie as a daughter-like figure? Why rush through what's, essentially, the point of the game? That felt massively unearned.

-The execution was weird and out of place, but maybe that's just me. To display how harsh and ruthless the world has gotten, you could've easily just included the firing squad executions from the game. Remember? The ones where they coldly disregarded human life on the pavement 'cause they tested positive. Aiming for cruel conditions rather than a spectacle.

-How does Ellie know 80s music when she's born after the Outbreak? I vaguely remember (it has evidently been some time since I've played it) Joel educating Ellie on various cultural tidbits from before.

-Why is Ellie also depicted as a genius, smart, know-it-all? Her decoding of that radio signal was unneeded. She's always been a snarky, endearing youngster you felt the need to protect – here, and this is what I perceived from one episode, she's an obnoxious brat, amped up in aggressiveness

-Why did the showrunners insist on making TV Joel a softer, more vulnerable person? (Modern Hollywood sure does hate masculinity) In the show, Joel is not an assertive presence that makes decisions. Other people decide for him, or command what he does (Tess, Marlene, Ellie, Sarah) -> only action out of his own volition is when he beats up a soldier (due to flashback, which was hamfisted in to remind everyone, in case they forgot the last 30 minutes.) In this world, tough guys survive that make tough decisions. Joel's one of them – always has been. (just look how the game ends...)

-Why is Joel not acting up when receiving no answer to Tommy's whereabouts? Why waste the trip to the office and precious resources? Also, isn't this going against lore? I thought Tommy and Joel were estranged, and later in the game, we learn that Tommy was part of the Fireflies, which drove them apart.

-Is there going to be a reason why they decided to make Joel and Tess an exclusive, today thing-y? As far as I remember, it was merely vaguely implied they had something going on in the past.

-I may be butchering details here again, but wasn't Marlene the person Ellie already knew and trusted? The one she was hesitant to leave? That feels more believable than her listening to Marlene as a voice of reason, due to her spilling that she knew her mom, and thus forming a bond. 

-Is it just me, or did the quarantine zone leave little impression? It did not even feel like a real place with people in it. This would've been the perfect opportunity to rip some things from the game, in order, to breathe some life into the place. (eg. like adding the market where Joel and Tess walk through, etc.)

-How did Tess get out of the explosion relatively unharmed? -Why did the lady in the shop not warn Sarah properly, and cautioned her to interact with other people, when she knew something was up? -Why did they burn their dead with clothes on? Clothing, shoes, etc. are valuable limited properties that are no longer produced.

Verdict after one very lengthy episode/first impressions: 

Generic, mid, apocalyptic-themed show, that wears the skinsuit of Tlou. When the show syncs up with the game is generally where pace and interest pick up, but otherwise, we're left with unnecessarily dragged-out extra. Some characters are not recognisable, neither in appearance nor characterisation, which is kind of a bummer. (Also noting, I thought Joel was acted a tad flat and non-emotive...) 

All-in-all, it did not turn out to be as disastrous as I feared, but we've still got a long way to go. Plenty of time to mess up. And no, I don't go into this wanting to hate it. I would LOVE for this to be a faithful, realistic masterpiece of a take on a beloved game, which also happens to be a favourite of mine, but we've seen it numerous times before. (Cue: Halo, Wheel of Time, Rings of Power, Moon Knight, etc.)