#some of this is scattered knowledge I'm bringing here

[thewolfisawake]

I don't think I ever officially put it out here with the various vamps on this blog so I guess I'm doing a small thing about them. Generally, there are two broad categories: Betrayers and Empyreans.

Betrayers are the technical vampires. They suck human blood in order to sustain themselves. They have sensitivities to light and sound because of how enhanced their senses are. They are sturdy for sure but can be killed by anyone basically willing enough. So like decapitation and a thorough staking technically can kill them. The problem is that they'd be fighting you the entire time and that is probably what takes one out before hand.

Their vampirism was a curse from the gods for their insubordination and hubris. And they were faced with the threat of mortality for the first time in their lives. And like any other being that grapples with it, they tried to ward it off as best they could. Or in their case, attempt to murder death. This very successful but not complete attempt is why they are called Betrayers. They turned their back on the gods completely for their own whims and tried to kill their counter parts the Empyreans. They were aided by an Empyrean that was called Anastasiya, who is hailed as someone akin to a saint.

The original Betrayers made several families after the massacre of Empyreans. These four families are the Kazatiyev, the Sokhrykov, the Nemanikhin, and the Svikhushin. They are separated by the specialty of their powers: 'almighty,' clairvoyance/temporal, mind, and 'physical' respectively. And most vampires are likely descended from one of these but they're so many (relatively) that there's the main families and all other vampires. They have a lot of influence because they have been around alongside a lot of humanity but they are mainly centered in Eastern Europe as that's simply where they have been the longest. They are cordial but not usually involved with other non human races.

Empyreans are more akin to sentient divine constructs. The closest 'approximations' to what they are are either angels or any number of races not quite gods but also not human such as the Asura, the Tuatha Dé Danann, or the kupua (as a note they are not those beings but the closest to explain). They do not have a divine aura or sense about them though. They are closest to their original designation of sentinels to humanity, the magnum opus to their gods. However it has been a long time since their gods have gone silent and a long time to drift.

Their vampirism was more of 'incentive' to carry out the punishment of the Betrayers, which upholding their mortality. Empyreans were those that did NOT fall to their hubris but the gods no longer trusted that they couldn't fall victim to it. Thus the curse of their vampirism. Because of it, Empyreans can only be sustained by the blood of other vampire types. Many were on the fence about this shift since they and the Betrayers had been equals to this point and many did not want to turn a blade on, essentially, family. The Empyrean that sought to rouse them to their duty--to allow themselves to survive--was one that went by Aleksandra.

A lot of Empyreans were murdered by the Betrayers, whom used their natural weakness: humanity. They aren't to harm humanity and it by faith of humanity that they can be slain. Essentially if a human believes that something CAN kill an Empyrean, it WILL harm them (Luckily the knowledge of this is mostly lost). This massacre left the survivors to scatter and while there were more families, to this day only three survived: the Mechnikov, the Mochalin, and the Voznesensky. All Empyreans have a natural connection to the world in some way, usually considered an 'elemental affinity.' And all have a power that reflects their 'true nature.' They do have more influence in the 'underground' or with other nonhumans due to them being less able to directly deal with humanity. They have no central seat of power but are of a sort of 'pact' to help each other out.

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Warm Bodies

Astarion walks in on a gift you were secretly making for him.

Pairing: Astarion x GN Tav

Warnings: none really? Some fluff and teensy bit of angst if you squint hard enough.

Requested: yes

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I know nothing about making clothes so if something is super off...I apologize lol. I do not approve of my work being copied or shared without my permission.

REMINDER: my inbox is open for requests!

As you ripped the seam from the thick, cotton top you were working on, you whistled quietly and bit your lip. It was late, and you were exhausted, but you were also in a just one more thing... type of concentration, so you decided not to fight it and to continue working.

Buttons were scattered across your lap, hastily discarded from the two other shirts you had worked on earlier in the evening. They rattled around as you squinted your eyes, making sure your handy work was good as you went. It must have been late - maybe 1 or 2 AM - so you gave yourself the hard stop after you finished taking apart this garment.

"Darling, I noticed your lamp light is still on...what are you doing in here so late?" A melodic voice slipped into your tent as the tent flap gently opened and closed just as quickly. Gasping, you turned around and immediately tried to hide your project.

Astarion stood, a hand on his hip and a smirk playing on his lips. "Oooh...what is this, sweetheart?" He stepped closer, peering down on the pile of clothes in front of you. You frantically waved your arms, trying to cover as much as your project as you could.

"Nothing! Nothing, I promise. Just...something." You cleared your throat nervously and stood, the buttons on your lap clattering to the ground. Both you and Astarion watched the buttons fall, and stared at them on the ground. At the same time, both of your heads snapped up and he was smiling.

"I caught you doing something," Astarion said, matter-of-factly. "I caught you doing something...something secret? Which makes me want to know even more."

"No you have not. I'm just...mending some clothes. To see if Gale could use any of them for enchanting." Proud of yourself, you smirked back, crossing your arms. Astarion eyed you suspiciously then finally looked behind you at the pile.

"For an...enchantment?" He echoed, causing you to nod in agreement. "Then why does it look like you have 7,000 shirts back there?" He walked towards the pile, and after a quick examination, he picked up the shirt you were working on when he entered, "Gods, how many do you actually have? Is 75% of your Bag of Holding filled with pants?"

"I'm trying to help, and you're getting in the way! Go away!" You teased, pulling on his sleep shirt to get him to step back. He swatted you away gently and kept looking, gingerly picking pieces of clothes up. Once he started to unfurl the pile, knowledge dawned on him.

"...it's a blanket," He said simply, quietly. He started to spread the blanket out, holding it in his hands as if it was made of the world's most precious fabric, "It's beautiful. You did this?" He looked at you, his face unreadable.

You nodded, smiling at him. You stepped around him to investigate the unfinished work, "I had the idea at the Tiefling party to start, since you told me that night in camp you got cold with what you had. So I just...kept the clothes we all no longer needed and thought it would be a nice...surprise?" Suddenly embarrassed, you blushed and pursed your lips together, looking to the ground.

Astarion said nothing, but continued to rub the blanket between his fingers. The contrasting fabrics of the velvet cape and wool robe you stitched together made a soft rubbing noise as he moved his hand. You felt your heart speed up a tiny bit - Astarion was usually never quiet, so you didn't quite understand what was going on.

"...is that okay?" You finally asked, leaning down to his level. He swallowed and slowly looked at you, bringing the blanket to his chest.

"And it's for me?" He asked. You nodded again.

"Do you...like it? Is it...too much?" You sighed heavily and stared at the blanket again, "Gods, it's too much, yeah? I knew it would be. Just because you said you were cold doesn't mean that I needed to make you a blanket-"

"I love it." He said, his voice barely above a whisper. You stopped and looked at him, a smile erupting on your face.

"You do? You don't think it's....too much that I'm making this for you? You don't think I'm...weird?"

"Oh no, you're definitely weird," He said, gently putting the blanket back in its original spot, "I'm not negating that. But...you're also very kind," He looked at you and took your hand, standing you both up. For a moment, he held on to your hand before he hesitantly dropped it, "This is a wonderful gift. Thank you...I..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I have never been given a gift like this...at least, not in a long time. It means much more to me than you could know, that you did this for me."

You blushed, lacing your fingers between both of your own hands. "That...makes me glad. I'm glad you like it. It's not ready yet...a few more shirts should do the trick, though!" I gestured to the shirt I was working on earlier, "It'll be ready probably...in a few days? You'll definitely have it before we reach Baldur's Gate."

Astarion chuckled and nodded, "That is quite alright. Take all the time you need...I didn't expect a gift like this, so you are well within your right to take as much time as you want," Suddenly, he smiled, "Though I'm not an expert, I have made my fair shares of enhancements and such to clothing...the blanket is beautiful work. You should be proud."

You smile and shrug, searching his eyes. Very rarely do you ever get to see Astarion in a vulnerable mood, one where he doesn't mask himself with jokes and charm. You like it, and you feel special knowing that he doesn't have these types of conversations with everyone.

"Besides, it'll help Wyll get off my back whenever he rips his shirt or whatever," Astarion finally broke the air with a flick of the wrist, waxing annoyed about Wyll.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, allowing Astarion the safe space, but also allowing him to step back when it all got to be too much.

"Well...I'm glad you like it," You finally said, "I'll be happy to give it to you when it's finished. And I'm sure I'll also appreciate the extra space in my Bag of Holding."

Astarion bent down to pick up the scattered buttons, handing them off to you. He smirked and walked towards your tent entrance to leave. Suddenly he turned around and stared.

You looked up from the buttons and saw his face was soft, unusual. It almost seemed like Astarion didn't know what he was feeling, either. He waited a moment before he spoke.

"I meant it when I said I have never received a gift like this before. This means-" He stopped himself, swallowing audibly. He cleared his throat before he continued, "Well, this means a great deal to me, that you did this. You are a kind person..." His eyes were shimmering as he looked at you, leaving you a bit breathless.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget your kindness," He finally said, "Thank you...again." All you could do was smile and nod. Was he crying?

Astarion undid the laces on your tent flaps quickly and exited, closing it tightly behind him. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and placing the buttons on your side table, you sat on your bed, looking at the blanket. You replayed the conversation with Astarion in your head, and you started to smile. How wonderful was it, that you could effect someone so greatly with just a simple, kind gesture? You started to fold the blanket and gather the materials, placing them in a more organized pile in the corner of your tent.

It was time to sleep now, and even though you were completely awake 20 minutes ago, you suddenly felt hazy and sleepy, like you were in a dream.

As you drifted off to sleep that night, Astarion lied awake in his own, staring at the ceiling of his tent. He smiled and felt his own, thin blanket on top of his body. This entire adventure, he was disappointed in his sleeping accessories - blanket in particular, nothing ever made him feel safe, or warm. Though he longed from something heartier and more luxurious, he would never admit it out loud.

And yet, you somehow knew that a new blanket was something he wanted...possibly, even needed. Soon, he wouldn't have to worry about his shivering waking him up in the middle of the night.

That night, Astarion fell asleep, and though he was sure it was just a trick of the mind, he felt warmer than he had in weeks.

------

Give it up for our favorite sassy tailor, Astarion everyone. I love Astarion fics where there isn't romance/sex involved...this man needs more FRIENDS.

REMINDER: My inbox is open for requests!

[loreleywrites]

Small Foundations story about a flavor text thing in the set that brings me *so* much joy.

It all starts in the Mystical Archives, a representation of spells you might find in the Strixhaven library. We made up all kinds of tomes for this.

I started a personal quest.

I wanted to keep referencing these tomes in future sets. Build them out. Give them an identity as interplanar catalogues of knowledge.

Whenever it makes sense, I try to find places where they can fit into new sets. I'm also not the only one who tries. Sometimes we succeed.

I didn't write this specific text for the reprint of Essence Scatter, but I did noodle around with some other Tome of Obstructions text for it.

So here it is, an imaginary book invented four years ago continues to have its pages filled out. Maybe one day you'll see more.

btw there's one in the Special Guests too :3

[ofstoriesandstardust]

part i. - the after (j.r.)

a/n: well folks, she's finally here. this is the very first part of my new top gun maverick x twisters crossover series, all of my life it's been heartbreak weather (series playlist here). i'm so very very excited to have this out but i'm also intimidated by all that's to come (aka what did i get myself into). please note that this series does discuss past self-harm/suicide attempts. please be a conscious reader; if that's something that will upset you, please don't read. other than that, i hope you enjoy! remember that comments and reblog keep me fed and watered. :)

summary: After El Reno, Javi starts to wonder where his place in the world is if not with StormPar. Despite Kate's insistence he ride out the rest of the season with the Wranglers, he can't shake the feeling that he's unwanted. Fueled by his own fear, he makes the executive decision to spend some time out in San Diego with his cousin Mickey. He knows he's running, but he doesn't realize he's running right home to you.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, first kiss, food mentions, addy lives but at the cost of her leg, past/references self harm and suicide attempts, other normal twisters warnings, past scott/javi

wc: 10.8k

“You sure you won’t stay?” 

There’s Kate again, with that pleading look in her eye as she crosses her arms. The same one that she had given him when she asked him to stay before El Reno.

He almost had then too, but he remembered the way Tyler had looked at him on the front porch, the way he had followed Kate out there with such ease it had been like he’d always belonged. He feels it now too, when his eyes flicker over Kate’s shoulder to the Wranglers all scattered around Cathy’s porch as they pretend not to watch their conversation. It’s like they’ve always belonged there and it’s that knowledge that makes him shake his head. 

This is Kate’s family. After all that she had lost, Kate deserved to have a family again. She belonged among them, what with the way they fit together like they had always been friends. 

“I’m sorry Kate.” He rasps, feeling tears sting at his eyes. 

“Javi, I- I can’t do this without you.” 

And there it is, his own words reflected back at him. 

He can’t understand why though. She didn’t need him, didn’t need him getting in their way. He was a liability. He was a screw-up and she didn’t need him sticking around in a place that was never his to start with. 

“C’mon Kate, you know that ain’t true.” He says as he turns, opening the door of his Mike’s truck to throw his duffel bag in. 

“Javi, I’m serious. I talked to Addy last night-”

“Don’t go there.” He says firmly, slamming the door shut harder than he intends to as Kate flinches. “Don’t bring Addy into this.” 

His own guilt, his own fear. The memories of ignoring Addy’s phone calls for so long and the knowledge that she’d be so angry with him for starting this venture without her by his side. 

Kate bites her lip. “Where will you go?” 

He sticks his hands in his pockets, sighing. “I’m going to Mickey’s. He’s stationed out in San Diego right now; they’ve got an extra room in their house they’re letting me rent for the next bit while I figure out all this StormPar shit.” Kate’s eyes are red-rimmed, fingernails digging into her arms. 

She’s holding herself back, he can tell. He can tell there’s so much she wants to say to him that she’s choosing to keep inside. He almost wishes she would say anything, lose her cool, yell at him, tell him what a stupid decision this is, tell him how angry she is at him for leaving, beg him to stay. 

Be the same storm and force that he knows and loves her for being. 

But she doesn’t say anything at all, just chewing on her lip. 

Mike rolls down the window, shouting at him that they better get a move on if they want to make his flight. He waves him off, stepping closer to Kate as the window rolls back up. He sighs, before letting his hands fall onto her shoulders. 

“Tell you what. Give me the next few months and the off season to get my shit together, get all my legal crap with StormPar solved. And at the start of the new year, we can revisit. See if doing this together is still what you want.” 

It’s not quite a promise but he knows it would be worse to make her a promise he can’t keep. 

Kate may not understand and he may not know how to tell her but he needs this. 

He needs to take a step back. He needs a minute, a moment to breathe. He can’t go back to that place, that dark crawl space of a life he lived in after Jeb and Praveen died, after Addy lost her leg, after Kate disappeared to New York and they stopped speaking to each other, the one that squeezed him so tight it nearly squeezed the life from his lungs. 

Kate nods before reaching up to give him a hug. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he returns the hug. 

“I’m sorry Kate.” He breathes out. “Tell Addy hi for me, okay?” 

-

He doesn’t know why he’s nervous as he follows Mickey into the warm beach house. It’s small, quaint, walls emanating years of love. He’s only been in San Diego a day and a half at this point, but Mickey was adamant he introduced him to his second family as soon as possible. 

Mickey’s friends cheer at the sight of them and the grin Mickey returns to them is blinding. Mick slings an arm around his shoulder, jostling him as he introduces him to the team. 

He’s known Reuben for years, ever since Mickey’s graduation from the Academy, and Natasha and Bradley have been friendly faces to him over the years, often stationed with Mickey. 

Jake’s new but in a way, he’s got a striking resemblance to Tyler, the same ego and attitude to match. Javy ribs him about being name twins and he knows they’ll be good friends. 

Pete, Mickey’s commander, is kind, soulful. His face is lined with years of love and he knows from the very first minute that he cares very deeply about his team in a way he had never experienced with any of his own commanding officers. Pete says he’s regretful his husband isn’t there but that he’ll be back from Florida next week and Tom has already insisted they come back for dinner. 

He’s halfway through his first beer and a bowl of chips, talking to Pete about his work with StormPar and how the radars worked, when he meets you for the first time. 

Pete chuckles at the sight of you, popping an M&M into his mouth. “Morning sleeping beauty.” Pete nudges him. “This is my daughter.” He introduces you and he waves hesitantly, waggling his fingers at you. You run a hand down your face, groaning. “You work today?” 

“Opened and then Sally called off so I had to stay overtime. Came home and crashed.” 

“Hey, do you ever put on pants?” Jake heckles from the couch. You take a minute to look down at your pajama shorts and Niall Horan sweatshirt before you turn on your heel, a look that could kill shot at the blond. 

“This is my house!” You snap back before huffing, turning back around for the fridge. 

“What’s the story?” He asks Mickey quietly as Pete excuses himself, setting off after you to inquire about your plans for the evening. 

“She’s Mav’s daughter. She came into his life like, two years ago I think? She comes from a pretty nasty background which is why Mav lets her live here. I dunno, they’ve got a strained relationship and she’s… a handful.” 

Javi takes a minute to study you. You can’t be more than two or three years younger than him, probably almost the same age as Addy. You’re talking to Pete in a subdued voice as you rub sleep from your eyes, a couple of piercings hanging off from your ears. You’ve got a couple tattoos, one on your leg of a ribbon that looks oddly alike to Lilly’s stick and poke style. You’re not hard on the eyes either, even in your sleepy state. You’ve got an easy smile and kind eyes, a laughter that sounds like honey as you chuckle at Pete. 

“You’ll like her though. She’s kind of closed off, got a lot of stuff she doesn’t talk to us about. But she’s sweet and I think the two of you are about to bond over food here pretty quickly.” Mickey adds as you announce that you’re changing and departing for In-N-Out. 

Javi snorts as the group shouts things at you, wrinkling your nose as they do. You wave a hand, shouting at them all to just text you as you trot back off towards your bedroom. 

“Yeah, I know. She’s your dream girl but you might want to close your mouth, you’re drooling.”

He snaps his mouth shut as he looks at Mickey. He’s smirking, eyes full of mirth. “I’m not, uh-” He clears his throat which only makes Mickey grin grow.

“Uh huh. Go with her.” He says as you reappear from your bedroom, pants on this time. 

“No, I couldn’t-”

Mickey shakes his head. “No, no this is good because I need someone to babysit you and it was always going to be her.” 

“Who am I babysitting?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. Mickey jerks his head over to him and he feels his cheeks warm under your scrutiny. 

“I’m not babysitting your grown adult cousin.”

Mickey shrugs. “Think of it like, showing him all the sights. You wanted to be a tour guide; you love playing tour guide. I just want you to show him a good time before he starts work next week.”

The innuendo in his voice is apparent and you groan at Mickey. “I will be doing none of that.”

Mickey shrugs, muttering something about your loss, which only makes his cheeks grow warmer as he mentally thinks of all the ways he could kill his cousin for trying to play matchmaker. 

You sigh again, studying him for a minute before you roll your eyes. You wave an arm at him, already setting off towards the front door. “C’mon.” You call. Mickey slaps his shoulder as he skids off the barstool he’s sitting on, dutifully following after you. You turn sharply once at the door, and he swallows at your look. 

“I don’t know your name.” 

“Javi.” He says softly and he watches the way you say the name softly, relishing the way it sounds coming off your tongue. 

“Well Javi, it’s nice to meet you. Officially now.” You offer a hand out to him and he shakes it. “Do they have In-N-Out in out there in Kansas?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

He clears his throat. “I’m from Florida, actually. Miami. And uh, no we don’t. I’ve never had it before.” 

Your face lights up as you yank on the front door. “Well then Javi-from-Florida-Miami-not-Kansas, I’m about to make sure you get the full experience.”

-

The full experience ends up being you eagerly telling the cashier he’s never been before, insisting he get (and wear) the infamous hat. You giggle over the pictures you force him to pose for, firing them off to Mickey as you do. You play with the sticker packets, hunched over and hair falling over your shoulder and into your eyes in a repeated motion that makes Javi resist the urge to reach across the plastic table and sweep your hair from your eyes. When they call out for your food, you eagerly shoot up from your seat to get the food, waving him off as you bring it back to the table. 

Through dinner, you tell him about working as a barista, how Sally is one more no call no show away from getting fired and all the other gossip about people who he knows nothing about. 

He hates to admit it, but Mickey is right. He’s taken a real shine to you as you talk, a smile never leaving your face. 

He could fall hard for you, he knows in his heart of hearts. And it scares him shitless. He knows what happened the last time he loved a girl that much and all that it cost him. He knows he doesn’t know if he can go there and make it out the other side with you. 

Especially when, back at the house, Mickey mentions seeing Kate on Tyler’s latest stream and around the brownie spatula you’re licking you say Tyler Owens can eat shit.

Still, it doesn’t stop him from being equal parts intrigued and enchanted by you. You’re as kind as you are funny, and in many ways you mind him so much of the Tamers. You’ve got Kate’s brain, Addy’s carefree laugh, Praveen’s cautious nature, Jeb’s soulful kindness. 

He spends the first week hanging out with you around your barista shifts, going out for drinks, introducing him to Chili’s. One morning the two of you go to the beach and another afternoon the two of you sightsee at SeaPort Village and visit the USS Midway. You take him to Old Town to eat the best Mexican food you claim he’ll ever have and while it’ll never be his mama’s or abuelita’s, it’s a damn close second.  That Sunday before he starts work, you and Mickey drag him down to the zoo, and he buys you a panda pin he sneaks onto your fanny pack later that night on the SkyTram. 

And then he keeps spending his free time with you. He visits you on your opening shifts, which earns you some teasing remarks from your co-workers. He ends up at your house without Mickey on more than one occasion, playing Pokémon and MarioKart on your switch. You guys drive down to the beach, playing him all your favorite albums. He shares his music with you on the days he drives you to work or picks you up after you close. 

Know any good hangover spots? 

He rolls over on his bed as he rubs a hand down his face, looking at the clock. It’s nearing two and through his hangover, he can’t remember if you were supposed to work today. 

He doesn’t forget Addy calling him last night though. He’d been at the bar with Mickey and some of their crew. You’d invited him to go to the movies with you but he knew he was getting in too deep with you. He was going to hurt you if the two of you kept going at the rate you were and he couldn’t bear to watch it happen when you saw him for who he really was. 

In hindsight, he should’ve just gone with you. He’s sure that being with you would’ve taken away the sting of declining Addy’s call, a sting he had instead soothed with alcohol. 

His phone chimes and for a minute he hesitates, wondering if it’s Kate or Addy.

It’s nearing the anniversary. 

It’s two weeks away and he had ignored any outreach, including asking him if he wanted to be in Oklahoma with them for the first time in five years. 

It’s you though. 

I think I do. Up for a burrito? I’ve got a spot I’ve been wanting to introduce you to. I can come pick you up. 

-

An hour later, the two of you are in a neighborhood you don’t normally stray into as you point out familiar landmarks to him. 

He knows you haven’t lived with Pete forever and it dawns on him that this side of town must have been where you grew up as you pull into the tiny parking lot, leading him into the shop crammed between the 7-11 and Chinese place you claim used to be a Russian bakery your parents swore was a front for the mafia. 

You lean over to him as you stand in the cool hole-in-the-wall shop, saying how much you love the breakfast burritos here. You’re up in his space, arms nearly wrapping around his own. 

You’ve been doing that a lot more lately. You invade his personal space, entirely comfortable with him. You’ll lean against him in crowded spaces, whisper mocking remarks in his ear when Jake gets too big for his britches. You hug when you see him and when he leaves, and he swears you would’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder last week if Javy and Mickey hadn’t come back to their house when they did. 

He finds that he doesn’t entirely hate it. He likes it in a way, the way you’re so comfortable with him. 

He follows your lead, getting the breakfast burrito, and as the two of you sit down in the back corner of the place, laughing over your dislike for hot sauce, you mention how you have fond memories of your Dad bringing you here after early morning hikes during your childhood or hard days in high school. 

���Dad?” He questions softly. “Not Pete?” 

You shrug. “My mom’s ex-husband. I guess not my Dad in blood but my Dad in the way that it mattered.” 

“Do you guys still talk?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, we had a pretty strained relationship starting sometime during college and when it came out that he wasn’t actually my Dad, he cut all contact.” 

He blows out a breath, thinking of his own parents. His Dad has been gone since he was a toddler, couldn’t remember the dead beat even if he tried, but he couldn’t imagine not getting to talk to his mama. 

“You still keep in touch with your Mom?”

You shake your head again. “Nah, my Mom and I had a pretty nasty falling out about two years back now. I was never meant to be nor did I ever plan on being in Pete’s life but I needed somewhere to stay and given the circumstances and the fact that I think Pete felt pretty guilty he hadn’t been in my life given how I grew up, he and Tom uh- couldn’t really say no.”

He nods, taking another bite of his burrito as he contemplates asking the question that’s been burning in the back of his mind since that very first night he’d met you. 

“Can I ask something else?” You hum, nodding. “That first night we met- you made a comment about Tyler Owens. You uh, you know him? Or is it just like a general dislike?” 

You lick the tip of your thumb as some guacamole escapes your burrito. “In the short of it, I worked for the Wranglers last season.” You hum at his wide eyes. “Yeah, Tyler and I had a pretty big falling out after the last chase of the season. He made it very clear I wasn’t welcome back.” You say it with a shrug in a very that’s that way but based on the bitterness seeping through your tone, it isn’t just all that. 

“So- how’d you even get a job with them?” 

“I bought a house in Oklahoma and needed something to do-”

He cuts you off, holding his hands up in a timeout motion. “You bought a house in Oklahoma?”

You huff out a laugh.  “I sort of- for lack of a better term, had a nervous breakdown my first semester of grad school when I had my falling out with my mom. I dropped out halfway through the term and moved in with Pete. I’ve always been shopping for real estate on the side, you know, just for shits and giggles. Always used to run around saying girls didn’t want husbands, they wanted to buy property. Anyways, I fell in love with this house out in Claremore and uh, turns out when I was born, Pete had set up this trust I was supposed to get once he died. I don’t think he ever expected to live this long, so it’s accumulated one helluva chunk of money and interest through the years. And he and I talked about it, and decided to use the money as the down payment. A friend of mine I met through storm chasing is staying there right now, cause she needed a place to stay and she offered to cover all the expenses. Utilities and whatnot.”

“You miss it? Oklahoma?” 

You shake your hand in a so-so motion. “Anyways, I don't quite know how it all happened, Tyler needed someone to run their Tiktok and Instagram because Boone refuses to learn it and it’s a whole audience they’re missing out on. So Tyler brought me on to run the other social medias Boone didn’t want to.” He nods, buzzing with all the information he just got from you. 

A house in Claremore?

You had storm chasing experience? 

Would you ever go back? 

“Okay, my turn. You got to ask stuff about me, so now I get to ask stuff about you.” He nods his head, resting his arm against the back of the chair next to him as he pops the last bite of burrito in his mouth. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker over his bicep. “How in the hell did you go from Florida to storm chasing in Tornado Alley to San Diego?” 

“I went to UF for undergrad and uh, decided hurricanes just weren’t cool enough to me. Wanted to study tornadoes and figured there was no better place than the heart of Tornado Alley herself, so I went to Muskogee and got my Masters. Then I joined the Army-” Your eyes grow wide. “And uh, after four years, my contract was up and I took my tech and started StormPar. But we had some pretty unethical investors and my business partner turned out to be- well, honestly he probably was the whole time, a real dick so I took my tech and told them to go to hell.” He giggles a little bit at your sour look. “What?”

“Man, I fucking hate tornados.” 

“That’s the part you’re focused on?”

-

Are you free today?

I really don’t want to be alone and Mickey has to work. 

You frown at the message. 

Yeah. Everything okay? 

Javi types back almost immediately. 

No. Up for a drive? 

-

You roll to a stop in the gravel parking lot, turning the key in the ignition as you eye Javi. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” You ask quietly. 

He nods. “Please?” He rasps out quietly. You nod, slipping out of the car. He waits for you at the front of the car and you hesitate for a moment, before making a rash decision to take Javi’s hand in your own. He intertwines his fingers with your own as if it’s second nature to him, slowly weaving your way through the graveyard in Encinitas. 

Slowly, you reach a stop, Javi standing in front of a marble stone. You squeeze his hand. “Let’s sit.” You whisper and he follows your lead, sitting down next to you. You move to let his hand go but his grip only tightens. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

He sniffs, taking his free hand to wipe his nose. “This was Praveen. He uh, he was one of my room mates in grad school.” You scoot closer to Javi, resting your chin in his shoulder. 

“Wanna tell me what happened?” 

“We were uh, we were storm chasing this time five years ago. For our thesis project. I was in charge of the data, I stayed with the van. The rest of my team- Kate, Jeb, Addy, Praveen, they went out to drop these barrels in the tornados path. Kate and Praveen and Addy were testing to see if they could get this- this polyacrylate into the air- the shit they use in diapers Addy always used to say, to tame the tornado. But it- it didn’t fucking work. It was an EF-5, the worst a tornado can offer and it killed Jeb and Praveen. I- I was in the van, watching our sensors rise 70,000 feet in the air and shouting into a radio nobody would answer. Afterwards, I uh- I drove around looking for any one of them, just- I knew it was probably impossible but I uh- I found Addy.” He takes a shaky breath. “She was alive, thank God, but uh, shit she lost her leg. She got hit by some debris while they were trying to hide in an underpass. I mean, thank God I did find her when I did, she probably wouldn’t have lived if I hadn’t but there was- so much blood.” 

“What about Kate?” You ask softly. 

“Kate- Kate lived but she was never- never the same person. Shit, I don’t blame her. One of her best friends dead, her boyfriend dead, another one of her best friends permanently disabled-” He breaks off, voice watery as he gives a shrug. “They were my room mates you know? We met on Craigslist of all places. We were three out-of-state- Jeb’s from Indiana, Praveen from here, out-of-state broke as fuck grad students needing somewhere to live. It could’ve ended so poorly but man I fucking loved those guys. They- they were-” He shakes his head. “We lived in this shithole apartment, the heat never worked, we had fucking roaches, a leaky kitchen sink pipe and the first time I went back to the apartment after it happened, all I could think about was how quiet our place was.” 

Your heart sinks at the thought of him going back to a house filled with ghosts, probably still covered in the blood of his friends.

“Javi, I’m so sorry.” You say softly. “That sounds… unimaginable.” 

“I miss ‘em so fucking much, you know? I’d give anything to have them back, even just for one more day.” 

You rub a hand up and down Javi’s arm as you let his hand go, him reaching up to wipe away his tears. 

“Shit, I’m such a bad friend, I should’ve brought like, fucking flowers or something.” 

You hum. “Well, there’s a Trader Joe’s like ten minutes from here, we can go get some and come back. Or I can go and get some for you.” 

“Can you go?” He croaks. “I would go but-” He gestures to himself. You bite back a snort, nodding as you understand what he means. 

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” He nods and you let his arm go after squeezing it, standing up before you turn back for the car. 

Once inside, you let out a breath as you wrap your hands around the steering wheel. 

It hurt your heart to see Javi so upset, to see him work through so much grief. 

You’d come to know Javi so well and had found him to be such a bright person, so charming and funny, kind and understanding, and it hurt to hear all that he had gone through before he had come into your life. 

The most you could do at this point was be here for him however he wanted you to be here for him and see him through this day. And that started with these damn flowers. 

You stood in the AC of the Trader Joe’s for far too long, unsure of what Javi would want or what his friend Praveen would’ve liked. Eventually though, you make your way back to the gravesite, instantly wishing you had taken even longer. 

“-fuck Praveen, it got so bad. Kate and Addy would’ve been so disappointed to see me like that, to know I tried to- I think. And you know, Mickey is the one who found me, wrist slit open, blood running down my arms and I-”

You softly gasp, fingers unconsciously tightening on the cellophane of the flowers as his words sink in for you. 

And to your horror, Javi turns around. 

-

Javi turns as you shift on your feet. 

It’s with a sinking heart that he realizes you have a fearful look in your eye and he wonders painfully if you’re afraid of him. 

You swallow, taking a step closer to him as you hand him the flowers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I can go wait in the car.” You offer softly. 

“Are you scared of me?” He asks softly. Your eyes go wide as you startle. 

“Scared of you? No.” You say quickly, shaking your head. You sigh, falling to the ground next to him as you take his arm again. He sets the flowers on the ground, half-turning his body towards you. “No, I just- didn’t mean to overhear that. It sounded private. Like… you wouldn’t have said it if you had known I was there. You said it because you thought you were alone.”

He studies you for a minute and you let him. There’s nervousness in your eye, but more so, there’s no pity held there that people usually look at him with once they hear about what happened, about what he did. Instead, there’s something akin to understanding as you look at him. You sigh. 

“Javi, you gotta know that you experienced a truly traumatic loss. And it- this doesn’t define you. Shit happens okay, and it- sometimes our brain is our own worst fucking enemy, it goes against everything we know, everything we hold dear to ourselves, and sometimes it convinces us of the worst fucking shit. Makes us do the worst fucking shit to others, to ourselves. But Javi,” 

Your fingers slide over the shallow scar on his right arm and his breath hitches. 

He was usually so good about covering it up, first with sleeves, jackets were his best friend during early season as he learned how to be around the StormPar team, and then switching out various watches. He’d gone to great lengths to even make sure Kate wouldn’t see. 

And he’d gotten a bit careless being in San Diego, under the constant sun, none of Mickey’s friends having said a damn word, but he was always careful around you. 

Never too fast, never too much, not wanting to lose you. Your friendship. 

But in his grief he’d forgotten all about it. 

And of course you’d clocked it. 

The only person who’d ever seen it, really seen it, had been Scott, the unspeakable thing between them. He hadn’t even let his Mom or Mickey bring it up, too ashamed in the aftermath. 

But the way you were touching him now, gentle and soothing, didn’t make the scar burn like it usually did. 

It felt… better. Healing, somehow. 

So he lets you keep touching it, thumb running gently up and down the length of it as you keep talking. 

“This doesn’t define you. It’s a part of you, it will always be a part of you. It’s a huge part, but it’s not what makes you you.”

You swallow, looking down. “I don’t want this to come off as if I’m making it about me, because I’m not. I just want you to know that I understand. What it feels like to feel that way.” He gives you a short nod as he meets your shiny eyes and you look away, giving a wet chuckle. “I grew up in an abusive household. Mom was an alcoholic, Dad was just… an all around piece of shit. We grew up piss ass poor.” You say, shaking your head. “I really struggled. I couldn’t make friends in school growing up because other parents didn’t want their kids around my parents and when I got older, I was the weird girl with the home life no one else could relate to. Those who could relate to it weren’t… the best influences. And um, when I was 15, all the mental turmoil that had built up, sort of peaked. I came so close to… just ending all of it.” You don’t let him go, even as he reaches over to brush a stray tear from your face. “I didn’t… actually do anything. I didn’t have the courage to take that final step and when I woke up the next morning I was horrified. And embarrassed, I think. I never came that close to anything again but sometimes… the thoughts come back up.” 

“How do you get past it?” He rasps. 

You scuff the toe of your shoe into the grass. “I don’t know that I’d say I’m the example, my college therapist was pretty concerned I might do something for a while there and I probably should’ve been medicated but I- I don’t know. I have to remind myself that it does get better. That maybe I don’t always see it, but there are people who’d give a damn if something happened to me, that it wouldn’t be this sigh of relief to them that I think it would. And I try to give those past versions of myself grace because really she was doing the best with what she knew.” You give him a sad smile. “Have grace with yourself Javi. Past you was just doing the best he could.” 

-

“I don’t want to pry, because it’s not my place.” 

He gives you a non-committal hum as you unlock the car door. 

The two of you had sat for hours in that graveyard as Javi recounted his favorite memories of Praveen, of their time, however short together, when Praveen’s older brother had shown up and in his surprise at seeing Javi, had invited him to dinner with his mother. 

You’d initially offered to just drop Javi off at the restaurant, that you’d come back when he was done, but he looked so torn up about the thought of you leaving and Praveen’s brother had been so insistent that a friend of Javi’s was a friend of their families and should join them for dinner, that you ended up agreeing. 

On the drive over is when Javi starts to clue you in more on the larger picture of the last five years, of the true fallout from the tornado. 

Addy’s parents had never forgiven Kate, so much so that they had tried to get Addy to take a restraining order out against Kate. The courts had denied it, outright, and the judge had apparently exchanged such words over the stupidity of the order request with Addy’s lawyer, because Addy had been a legal adult, participating in the same university-sanctioned research that Kate had, accepted by the the same PhD program that Kate had, that Addy’s family hadn’t tried again. 

Jeb’s parents had been so enraged with Kate that they refused to even tell her where Jeb was buried. Kate didn’t even get to go to the funeral, which was right around the time she stopped answering Javi’s calls and Javi stopped trying. 

Praveen’s family had been the kindest in the aftermath. 

Praveen’s Mom had found Javi’s on FaceBook six months after Praveen’s death, because she knew Javi’s birthday was coming up and wanted to send him a card. Praveen still had the date marked in his calendar in his childhood bedroom. 

Their families had stayed in touch over the years, even if they hadn’t with anybody else’s, and Javi tells you he suspects it has little to do with any kind of effort Praveen’s mother had made. 

Praveen’s mother, a kind woman named Delia, welcomes Javi to the table with open arms and a tight hug for you. She apologizes for the absence of Praveen’s sister, finishing her residency at John Hopkins in Maryland. 

Throughout the dinner, it’s clear to you how in the aftermath, Praveen’s mother had found more forgiveness for Kate and what had happened then the others did. 

Praveen’s Dad had died when he was in high school, a victim of a freak drive-by shooting. What should’ve been a hardship only made Praveen more encouraged to pursue his dreams, eventually landing an acceptance to UCLA with a full ride. But you can’t study tornados in Southern California, leading Praveen to Muskogee and the Tamers. 

Praveen had loved what he was doing, every second of it, even when it had put him in harm’s way. He always spoke of how much he loved his friends, of this dream they were building. He spent every minute home with his mother wishing he was home in Oklahoma. 

That’s how she had found peace and solace in the loss of her youngest son. Praveen had died doing what he loved with the people he loved. How could she ever be angry? 

Javi squeezes your hand before breaking apart to round the front. “You were saying?”

You click your tongue. “Yeah. I guess, you don’t have to explain the how, I guess, but are you, are you doing better?” 

You realize the question makes no sense as you ask it yet Javi understands as he waits for you to climb in, starting the car. 

“What if I did want to talk about it? With you? The how, I mean.” 

“If you want to, then I would listen.” 

Javi takes a breath. “I‘ll spare you the details, but Mickey was the one who found me. Had to call 9-1-1 and since I had to- you know, spend a couple nights in the psych ward, they notified my CO and I was discharged.” 

“So… leaving the Army was never really your choice then?” 

He shakes his head. “No, but Scott had already been on his way out. His contract was up and he wanted to be gone. My only friend- my-” He stops himself and you can tell there’s more to the story. “My best friend, leaving the Army, sort of-”

“Played into all of it?” 

“Yeah.” He breathes. 

“But you are doing better now?” 

He shifts in his seat. “It’ll never be that bad again, and I- uh I’m on some good medications, much as I hate to admit that. But days like this are just… hard. I don’t like being alone. And Mickey and my Mom and Scott are the only ones who know about what I did so it just- makes it harder I think. Not to talk about it, like it didn’t happen.” He takes a shaky breath. “Scott is actually the- the one who tipped my Mom off that something might be happening. I had- had texted him that I loved him and I was sorry. And when I stopped answering he called my Mom. She was out-of-state, out in Arizona for a funeral, and she called Mickey to come check on me since he had been on leave that week.” He swallows hard. “Scott loved me enough to the point of risking losing me, just so- just so I could live. As terrible as he turned out to be, I still miss that part of him.” 

“I understand.” You say softly. “I had to call for a friend of mine during college. I was living out of state at the time, and she never forgave me. But she’s still here, and she got to graduate from college and get engaged to her high school sweetheart and she might be angry at me forever, but you love someone enough to be okay with losing them, just to see them live.” 

The half hour drive back to San Diego is quiet, the stereo playing your music softly. You don’t see it, but Javi starts to build a playlist from your choices, reveling in the comforting nature of this moment right here. 

Finally, you pull into his driveway of the house he shares with Mickey and Javy, tires crunching on the concrete. You watch him get out, bidding you a goodnight and walk towards the front door. 

“Javi!” You call, barely remembering to turn the car off as you open the door. He turns as you jog up the driveway after him. 

And before you can think too far into it, you hug him. He startles, but he wraps his arms around you and you sigh, fisting your hands in his jacket. 

“I’m really glad you decided to stay and I’m really glad that I got to meet you. You- you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met, and I’m thankful you’re in my life. I’m sorry all that terrible shit happened to you, cause- cause you never deserved that. And I just wanted to make sure you knew that.” 

You let him go and his arms slowly follow, letting you move back as you look up at him. You can’t read the look on his face, so you clear your throat. 

“Anyways, um, have a good night Javi.” You say quietly, giving him a small wave. 

“Night.” 

He’s in the house by the time you start the car again and you sighed to yourself. 

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Javi’s heart was with Kate and Addy and the research he left behind in Tornado Alley. And it was gonna hurt like hell when he left to finish what he started. 

-

“So, you ever gonna ask her out on a date?” 

He startles up, fumbling his phone as Pete gives him a cheshire grin. 

“I’m- Um-” He stammers, eyes darting around the living room. Pete pats him on the back, before walking away, chuckling as he does. 

“C’mon, you’re out with her, what, four, five nights of the week? At least? Not counting how many hours you spend over here. Just pull damn the trigger already Rivera.”

“We’re just- we’re just friends.” He says, feeling a flush creep up his neck the longer your Dad stares at him. 

“You convince yourself with that lie?” 

He licks his lips, not expecting to be called out so directly. “She’s better than what I deserve.” He admits shyly, the flush only crawling farther, starting to feel more like flames as Pete softens. 

“You’re a good kid. I trust you with her.” 

He runs a hand over his face. “I’ve got a lot of baggage.” 

“So does she.” Pete heaves a sigh, crossing his arms. “We’ve all got something, kid. But that doesn’t mean you’re any less deserving. Only took Tom about twenty years and a couple of near death experiences to beat that into my skull.” Pete raps his knuckles against his head, eyes flickering to your bedroom door, where you’re changing out of your work clothes after showering. “I’m not blind and contrary to my daughter’s belief I don’t know her at all, I know her pretty well. She is half me, after all.” Pete swallows around the last little bit, defeat sinking into his stature at his acknowledgment at just how tense his relationship with you was. “I know how she looks at you. The same way Nick and Carole tell me I always looked at Tom.” 

“How- how did you look at him?” He asks. 

Pete smiles softly as they both hear the sound of your bedroom door open. 

“Like he was home.” 

-

He should nudge you, tell you the movie’s over, and excuse himself. 

He should get out of your house, the early hour it’s nearing, knowing it’s closer to the time Pete wakes up for work in the morning than when he and Tom went to bed. Pete had put a lot of trust in him after all. 

But you’re so comfortable with him, breathing slowly, and it’s the most peaceful he thinks he’s ever seen you. 

For once, your brain isn’t going a million miles a minute, moving as fast at the planes Pete flies. 

And he can’t deny that his own bone-deep exhaustion is hitting him, dragging him further into sleep alongside you. Can’t resist the peace that settles over him.

In the morning, he’ll wake to a text from Pete, an image of the two of you curled up together on the couch and a message that says: Here’s what I’d tell my pilots - don’t think, just do.  

He’ll watch you from across the kitchen as you putter around, smiling softly at him, sheepish about falling asleep on his shoulder the night before. 

He’ll tell you it’s the best night of sleep he’s gotten in years and you’ll laugh it off, chucking a chunk of avocado at him, but he knows it’s true. 

It’s the first time he sleeps through the night without nightmares since the day his friends never came back. 

-

There’s a murmuring from outside of your bedroom door and you peer over your phone to catch a few shadows moving before Javi suddenly stumbles into your doorframe. 

He waves someone, Mickey probably, off as he realizes you’re already looking at him. He straightens up, shuffling to lean against the doorframe as he offers you a nervous smile. “This is uh, a nice… calendar.” He trails off awkwardly, playing with the edges of the paper hanging on your wall. 

You snort, setting your phone down on your bed as you move to sit up. “Sure is.”

He clears his throat, gesturing awkwardly to your room. “Can I?” 

You can’t help the grin that grows across your face. “Sure Javi.” 

“Right, well-” His cheeks color as he shuts the door behind him. “Um, well, I was just hoping maybe we could uh- well uh-” He scratches the back of his head as your eyebrows raise. “Do you, uh, do you wanna go on a date with me?” 

Your smile grows even wider as you nod, butterflies exploding in your stomach as he asks. “Yeah, I’d love to.” 

His shoulders relax a little bit as his own smile transforms into a rather genuine one. “Yeah? Okay, um Friday?” 

“I can do Friday.” You confirm. 

“Okay, cool. That’s cool. I’ll pick you up at uh, say 7? Dinner?” 

You nod again. “Yeah, I’ll see you then.” 

-

Thunder breaks out, a lightning strike illuminating the sky as the two of you leave the restaurant in downtown San Diego. 

You hum as the air turns, squeezing Javi’s hand. “You know, growing up I read this book where she used to count in between the thunder and the lightning and that would tell you how many miles away the storm was. I used to do it all the time until my Dad told me that it wasn’t real.”

He looks down at you, a fond smile as he walks towards his truck with you. A few raindrops begin to fall from the sky, wetting the asphalt beneath your feet. “My friend Addy does that. She used to at least.” He pauses for a minute then tilts his head. “You’d like Addy, actually. If she’s still anything like she was back then, you two would be bad for my blood pressure.” 

You hum, pulling him closer. “I love rain. I remember when I used to sit out on my grandparents porch at their condo on the lake growing up and watch the storms. Or how my freshman year as an out-of-stater, I stood in my dorm’s parking lot in the rainstorm the first week while my whole floor watched me.” 

He pauses near the car as the rain picks up, soft music from the restaurant following you guys into the parking lot. “Dance with me.” He says softly. 

You let out a nervous laugh. “What?” 

“Dance with me. Right now.” He says, already turning to take your other hand. 

“Okay.” You say softly, letting his hand find the small of your back, as your hands clasp around his neck. 

The movements are slow, Javi guiding you through a twirl. A laugh plays on your lips as he pulls you back close to his chest. He holds you there, something twinkling in his eyes as you look up at him. 

“What?” You say through a laugh, feeling your cheeks warm as he gazes down at you. “Got dessert stuck on my face?” 

He shakes his head. “No just, uh- you’re really pretty like this.” 

A bashful grin tugs at your lips as you fight the urge to duck your head. “You too.” 

He huffs out a laugh, both of his hands dropping to your waist. His teeth tug at his bottom lip, a movement you know he tracks you watching. “You’re really something, you know that?” 

You step impossibly closer to him, tilting your head up at him. “Just shut up and kiss me already.” 

“If the lady insists.” He murmurs, hands on your waist tightening as he leans down. 

The kiss is searing, charged, as he tugs on your own bottom lip for permission. You tilt your head, giving him access. 

The sky crackles to life above you once more and you pull away, probably sooner than Javi would’ve liked to stare at the sky in wonder. 

“You’re something else, kid.”

-

“What are you doing?” You ask as Javi holds his hand out to you as you climb out of the front seat. 

“What does it look like? I’m walking you to the front door.” 

You hum, taking his hand as he shuts the door behind you. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“Well, I ain’t no Tyler Owens, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman.” 

“Mmm, flowers, opening my car door, walking me back at night, one would almost say you’re trying to land yourself a second date Mr. Rivera.” 

“Well, you know…” He shrugs his shoulders and you can pick up the blush on his cheeks as you two step into the yellow glow of the porch light. “I wouldn’t be mad about it.” 

“Yeah?” You ask smugly as you reach out to smooth out the collar of his shirt. “You feeling brave or should I?” 

“Hey, you think Pete is still awake?” He asks suddenly and you frown.

“Probably not, why?”

He hums, sticking his right hand out over the Ring camera. “Just for good measure.” He says softly, as he tilts your head up with his left, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. It’s over too soon and you find yourself chasing his lips. He laughs at you as he lets his hand fall. “Easy there, only the first date.” 

You sigh and roll your eyes, pouring slightly. “Fine then.” 

“What about drinks on Tuesday? Do you close?” You shake your head and he grins again. “Tuesday it is. I’ll call you, okay?” He says softly, squeezing your hand and you nod, before you turn, pulling the door open. 

You slip inside, immediately moving to tug off your boots, stumbling and swearing as Pete says “Have a good time?”

You catch yourself on the entryway table as you look up to where he’s standing on the stairs. “Jesus, you scared me. What are you doing up?” 

He holds up his phone. “Got the notification that you were back.” You grunt, finally tugging one of your shoes off and start to work on the second. “So really, you have a good time?” 

You look up at him as the second shoe is freed from your foot and you smile. “Yeah, a really good time.” 

Pete smirks as you walk towards the staircase. “He give you a goodnight kiss? Couldn’t quite tell what with him covering the camera.” 

You scowl at him. “I’m an adult, what would it matter? Am I not allowed to kiss people now?” 

He hums. “Well, just that back in my day, you didn’t exactly kiss them on the first date.”

“No, you just fucked them in seedy bar bathrooms.” Tom says from the top of the stairs. Pete turns, coloring red at the callout from his partner. You snicker as Tom walks down the steps, coming to stand on the one behind his husband. “You have a good time, kid?” You nod. “Javi respectful? Keep his hands where they’re supposed to be?” You nod again, although it isn’t lost on you that this is the most care and interest Tom has shown in you since you’d gotten back from Oklahoma. “Good. You coming back to bed Pete or are you going to stand out here all night?” 

Pete sighs. “Yeah, I’m coming. Night kiddo.” Pete presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before turning, squeezing Tom’s hand as they walk back up the steps. You wait to hear their bedroom door shut before you shuffle down the hall to your own bedroom, the guest room that still sort of emanated a guest bedroom, with maybe a few more posters on the wall. 

You pull off your clothes and change, deciding against going through your nighttime routine in favor of crawling under the covers. 

If you happened to squeal like a teenager as you relieve the night, well that’s between you and the moon. 

-

“So.” Mickey asks and he turns, catching his cousin with his hands in his pockets. “You ever gonna tell her you’re in love with her?” 

He sighs, picking up another rock from the sand, thumbing over the smooth surface before chucking it into the lake. “You’ve always read me too easily.” 

Mickey walks the few paces to stand next to him. “Kate called you tonight.” 

It’s not a question. It’s a fact. He hadn’t gotten to the phone in time, Mickey seeing Kate’s contact photo cross his screen. It’s still the same one it’s always been, a picture of them from welcome week during the first year of grad school, a goofy photo of her poured over their textbook. Praveen is next to her, shoulder barely in the photo but the memory of him leaning all the way out of view of the camera into Jeb as he ate dinner in Kate and Addy’s apartment still makes him laugh. 

“She did.” 

Behind them, he can hear you. It’s someone’s birthday, he can’t bother to remember who, and you had all trekked down to the bay for a chilly November bonfire. Across the rippling water, he can see the lights of SeaWorld reflecting back at him. 

Him and Kate had been talking — finally. Kate wanted him to come back to Oklahoma and he couldn’t deny that he missed the rush of a storm, the buzz beneath his skin. The way helping those people of El Reno had, in time, begun to heal those open wounds in his soul. 

Addy had been blowing up his phone, Lilly too. He was ashamed to admit that it had been the first time he’d let himself talk to Addy and even more ashamed to admit just how much he’d missed her. Dani had called him here and there, getting him all caught up on the life he had missed and Boone would shout over her shoulder into the receiver, inevitably wrestling the phone from her to tell Javi whatever it was that was passing through his brain. 

Even Tyler had gotten in on all of it; if only to talk about what a partnership between Tyler’s resources, Kate’s brain, and his radars would look like. 

“You’re going back to Oklahoma.” Again, not a question. 

He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I might be.” 

Mickey lets out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. “You can’t be for real.” Mickey says incredulously, anger hinting underneath his words. “After everything.” 

He scoffs. “Come on, Mick. You know, storm chasing is where my heart is. Same as how yours has always been with those planes.” 

“No, it’s not.” Mickey says coldly. “And you know what, Javi? I didn’t just introduce you to her for the hell of it. I know just as well as you do what that girl means to you, even if you’re too much of a goddamn coward chickenshit to admit it to her. And I was the one who knew what she could be to you and I thought maybe she would be enough to-” 

“To what, Mickey? This was never a forever.” He says honestly. Any idea Mickey got otherwise was on his cousin and his cousin alone. 

Mickey huffs, turning to trek back up the sand. 

And then, he hears it. He can’t hear what’s said exactly, but Bradley admonishes you for something and you go quiet. 

And there it is again. 

Ever since he’s met you and watched the way this crew interacted with you, he’s picked up on it, more and more. How little respect Bradley gives you. Really how little respect that whole team gave you. They had written you off. 

Even Mickey, who you were the closest to, both in friendship and age, saw you as nothing more than a weird addition to the home he visited so much. 

He didn’t see you for how kind you were, for how bright you were. How you drank so much creamer with your coffee Javi quite frankly thought it should be illegal. How you were funny and nothing was off-limits with you. 

How you’d been so understanding the first time the two of you had remotely done anything physical and he had freaked out. How you had patiently listened as he panic-told you that he was into men and how he had dated Scott, a years-long rollercoaster that had only ended the day he left Scott behind in the mud outside of El Reno. 

How you’d been so understanding when he explained that he hadn’t been with anyone since he and Scott had ended it, that the scars of that toxic relationship, however messy it had all been, were still there, not so easily forgettable. How you shared your own experiences, how you related to him, how good you were to him, how you loved him. 

They didn’t care for you. They didn’t like you. 

And not for the first time, it makes him wonder how you’d been with the Wranglers. 

You’d confessed to the tipsy and ill-advised stick and poke Lilly had given you in a parking lot of a motel in Kansas, the Matilda bow on the back of your leg. You’d commented that you were always closest with Dani, the girl like the older sister you’d never had, and that Boone had cared for casual physical touch more than anyone else you’d ever met, something you didn’t realize you needed until he did it. You talked about how you missed Dexter’s stories the most, the man having lived and seen so much life. 

It makes him hope someday he can get you and Addy in a room together, because he knows she’d love you. He wants to get you and Kate’s brains together, if only for his own amusement and entertainment. He wants you and Tyler to retell the stories from the season you’d spent with them, how Ty had been the one to teach you how to play the guitar. 

He wanted you in Oklahoma with him. He wanted you in Oklahoma with him and his family. 

For once in your life, you deserved for a village to care about you the way you cared about them. 

Mickey’s staring at him expectantly and he licks his lips. “Kate-” 

That was instantly the wrong choice as something dark twists in his cousin’s face. “Don’t bring that bitch up to me.” Mickey snarls. 

“Look, I know you ain’t the biggest fan of her-” 

“Understatement of the fucking century.” Mickey says through a humorless laugh. “And you know why, don’t you? Because maybe if that girl had cared about anybody but her damn self in the aftermath, I wouldn’t have had been the one to call the paramedics while my best friend sat in a pool of his own blood trying to kill himself.” 

And that- wasn’t exactly fair. 

Kate had closed herself off, gone to New York and never came home, but he’d subconsciously pushed her off after Addy and Kate had gotten discharged from the hospital. 

Because he had believed they would be better off. Because he believed that they had needed each other more than they needed him. The only people in the whole world who would understand what Kate and Addy went through was Kate and Addy. All he had done was sit uselessly in a van. 

It’s why he had dodged Addy all these years, despite her numerous and persistent efforts to get in touch with him. 

“Maybe if Kate had been smarter, none of that shit would’ve ever happened at all and they’d still be here. You really think that girl will follow you back to Oklahoma? You think she’s going to go back to the Wranglers for you? She won’t and I don’t blame her. Not when you’re still clearly in love with Kate.” 

By now, his heart is hammering in his chest, brain swimming as he fights to keep up, to process the insults as quickly as they come, as Mickey’s voice rises and he sees both you and Reuben turn at the sound of the commotion. 

“Yeah, I was in love with Kate.” He admits softly. “But that- that ain’t what it is anymore. Ain’t what it’s been in a long time Mickey. And I’m not- not a fucking idiot. I know what I have is good. And maybe she’ll come back to Oklahoma and maybe she won’t. But I- I know that I love her. And it scares the fucking shit out of me okay, Mickey?” 

Mickey’s face softens as he stumbles back through the cold sand, hand landing clumsily on his shoulder. “Javi, I-”

He shakes his head, nudging his hand off. “I think you’ve said enough.” 

-

“So, things got pretty heated between you and Mickey tonight.” 

He huffs out a humorless laugh, running a hand over his face as the two of you sit in the In-N-Out parking lot, red lights gleaming back inside the car. 

You’d always been able to see right through him. 

You feign nonchalance, taking a sip of your drink. “What was that all about?” 

He swallows, hard. “I wouldn’t-” His voice comes out in a painful rasp and he swallows again. “I wouldn’t even know how to-”

His breath hitches as he thinks it over. 

He- he really loves you, and he knows that. But he knows it’s selfish to ask you to sacrifice everything and go back to Oklahoma with him. 

“It’s- I’m selfish, I think-” He swipes his palm over his eye, pressing hard to push back the sting of tears. “I don’t know.” 

You frown, shifting to take out and reach his hand. Your thumb rubs gently over his knuckles as you look at him. 

“Hey- you know I love you right?” Eyes wide, he raises his head to meet your concerned gaze. “Whatever it is, I’ll back you.” 

“You-?”

You swallow, eyes glancing back out at the bustling restaurant. 

“Yeah. I do. There’s no pressure to say it back if you aren’t in that place, I just-”

“No.” He says, swallowing. “No, I love you too.” 

His grip on your hand becomes tighter, a small and yet pained smile on your face. 

“Is this about Kate?” 

He chokes on his own fear, letting go of your hand at the sound of her name leaving your mouth. 

His arms meet his knees as he bends over in the cramped space, fingers coming up to tug at his curls. 

He can hear you move again, hands slowly starting to rub circles on his back. 

“Javi, hey.” You soothe. “It’s okay, I’m here.” 

“But for how long?” He rasps out, squeezing his eyes shut. “How long until-” He cuts himself off, not wanting to picture how long it’ll be before you walk out the door. 

Minutes? 

Days, maybe? 

Weeks, if he’s lucky. 

How long will he get to keep you, before you see that nasty thing inside him? That thing that had made him blame Kate after Stillwater? That thing that had made him leave Scott defenseless in the mud?

He should end it now, before he can hurt you. 

But he’s weak. He’s always been weak. 

The scars on his wrist prove that. 

“For as long as you want me here, okay? Javi, if this is about Kate and Oklahoma and- and finishing what you started, I want you to know I’m there with you.” You say softly, hands never leaving his body. 

He steals a glance at you with a quick turn of his head but you’re faster, one of your hands darting out to keep his head from turning away from you again. 

“Hey, is that what this is about?” 

“I- I want to go back but I don’t want- I want you with me. But I know it’s selfish of me to ask that of you.” 

You shake your head. “Hey, it’s not selfish. Remember I spent a season storm chasing?” You make a face, akin to as if you’ve just tasted something sour. “I may not really get the appeal, but I do get the Oklahoma charm. I didn’t buy a house out there for no reason.” 

He swallows, realizing he’d forgotten all about that part. 

Oklahoma had once been your home as much as it had once been his. 

“If you want to go back to Oklahoma, then I’m right there with you. If you want to tell them all to fuck off and stay here in San Diego then I’d support you in that too. What I’m saying is, you don’t have to worry about me. Make the decision you know is best for you, and I’ll follow you wherever you want to go.” 

He searches your face for any inkling of hesitation or untruth. 

There is none. 

Something in him must shift because the smile you give him now is real, genuine. 

“I want it. I want to go back to Oklahoma, I- I need to. It’s-” He cuts himself off as he licks his lips, suddenly at a loss to explain how much this means to him, how much he needs to do this with those people. 

“I’m all in, baby.” 

[amuseoffyre]

Since insomnia is kicking my arse of late, I naturally tilted into the thoughts about the nature of the 3-act structure and why S2 of OFMD may have felt off and incomplete to a lot of people.

I am fully in agreement that we lost a lot of valuable time with only 8 episodes and a lot of it did feel rushed, but for the amount of story and set-up and growth and development they needed to fit into 4 hours of television, they did astonishing things.

DJenks has said from the very start that this is a story that has been planned out to take 3 seasons. It's literally a 3-act play and we are currently right in the middle of the worst part of that timeline according to every traditional 3-act structure.

Act one/season one is self-explanatory. Like New Hope in the Star Wars Trilogy or Fellowship of the Ring, this is the set-up. We're introduced to our protagonists and antagonists, the relationships are given a foundation.

The beginning is Stede's journey to becoming a real boy. The inciting incident, the one that actually pushes his change beyond "playing pirates" is meeting Ed. The second thoughts come together in episode 8/9 after his confrontations with Jack and Chauncey and episode 10 is the climax.

Act 2/season 2 is never going to be as smooth and simple as act 1/s1. A big part of the A2/S2 job is set up for A3/S3 and this is what we're seeing and why a lot of story threads seem to have been left dangling.

Again, to call back to Empire Strikes Back and The Two Towers, the structure is much the same: the original batch of people are divided and scattered, the big enemy from A1/S1 is looming, new allies make themselves known. In SW, this meant the introduction of Lando and Yoda as allies plus the hint of the Emperor lurking in the background. In LotR, we have the Rohirrim, Gondor and the Ents as allies and the expansion of Sauron's forces in Helm's Deep, Osgiliath and the winged wraiths.

There's a clear trajectory following the A2/S2 structure:

obstacle 1 - the crews separated and struggling

obstacle 2 - the end of episode 2 and the repercussions of his actions

twist - just when things start to settle, the Ned Low situation happen and Stede kills for the first time

obstacle 3 - Ed's struggle with his identity leading to him leaving

disaster - Ricky's assault on the Republic

crisis - do-or-die battle because they have no other choice

climax - the last 15 minutes of ep. 8 live here.

As with SW and LotR, there's an ending, but weighted with the knowledge of a story that is meant to continue. Each of those act 2 films end with the heroes still aware of the looming threat, some of them heading out on new missions, and some of them resting and healing. There's brief pause, brief respite, a moment to take a breath.

We have all the characters in place now and the battle-lines have been drawn. Luke still needs to confront Vader (I see you, impending Ed and Hornigold confrontation), Frodo still needs to destroy the ring, Aragorn still needs to lead the army against the Black Gate, the second Death Star is still hanging in the sky.

I'm so excited to see what S3 brings because we have so many arcs ready to go: Zheng's vengeance trip, the inevitable enforced out-of-retirement arc for Ed and Stede, Hornigold, Ricky trying to maintain his tenuous control of the republic given how many of his people were killed when the crew escaped, the pirate rebellion gathering forces.

Also how often do we get shows/films where the supporting cast are given this much storyline? We have a named/speaking-role cast of upwards of 15 central characters. That is a staggering amount of people to work with, when most shows would only focus on the leads and a couple of their friends. Six is the average for most TV shows, while comedies can inch higher because ensembles, but most ensembles don't get as much as our crew did.

I know a lot of people aren't happy about Izzy's death. I know I would have liked to see him a lot more, because he's such a grumpy old bitch and I love him and him affectionately roasting Ed and Stede would have made my entire month. But I'm also aware that narratively, as a figurehead of the old ways of piracy and "we were Blackbeard", it was a symbolic death as well - a sign of the death of the old ways of piracy and of Blackbeard as was.

(Also, they Obi-Wanned him. I'm not over that. Gave him the "if you strike me down I will become more powerful" speech. I'm just... guys, your star wars nerdery is showing XD)

So while it was flawed in places and pacing, given the scale of the story they're telling, the number of pieces and characters they had in play, and the arcs they have been setting up while also still keeping the humour, I am giving a standing ovation for a remarkable piece of work.

[barefoothighlander]

Hi could I ask for Ghost with an hypersomniac reader? Much love to you!

of course babe, I'm not super knowledgeable about hypersomnia but I tried my best, I feel like Ghost would be so attentive and caring, always checking in etc. So here's a lil' one shot.

warnings: none just fluff, gn pronouns

Ghost was used to being up late, the military had trained him to stay up for days in a row, often times he’d just lay awake in bed, hiding from the nightmares, forcing his body to stay awake. You didn’t have the same luxury, often finding yourself dozing off during the day, or sleeping through odd hours. Somehow it worked, you being up for brief periods of time, usually during the night, and his discontent for sleeping, it allowed you to spend time together, away from the noise of the rest of the world.

He wasn’t one for going out often considering his outward appearance usually frightened onlookers, but at home he wasn’t Ghost, he was Simon, your Simon. Your Simon that would carry you to bed if you fell asleep on the couch, who would hold you close as his heartbeat lulled you to sleep. He may have been a ruthless killer outside the wall of your home, but inside he was the most caring partner you could have.

You had woken up during the night, inching out of bed in your pyjamas (little cotton shorts with skulls on them, he’d bought them for you a while back), rubbing your eyes as they adjusted to the small stream of light coming from the kitchen, poking your head out to see Simon, shirtless and braced against the counter as the kettle on the stove boils, smiling to yourself as he hears your footsteps get closer.

“Hey angel” his accent is thick, he had just gotten out of bed.

“Hiya handsome” you manage through a yawn, opening your arms to pull him into a hug as he embraces you, placing a kiss on the top of your head

“You alright?”

You respond with a meek nod into his chest, he was so warm, comforting, like a fire on a cool summer night. He moves to pull away as he hears the kettle finish boiling but you cling to him, placing your feet on top of his as he laughs, walking your bodies over to the stove. He pours two cups of tea, hands coming to stroke along your back as he waits for them to steep.

“You know you’ll have to let me go when I leave for work”

“Not if I can help it”

You release him hesitantly as he hands you a mug, his hand soft on your waist as he guides you to the couch, flicking on the television. You rest your head against his firm shoulder, tucking your body close to his as he reaches behind you, grabbing a blanket and draping it over your form, the two of you silently enjoying each other’s company as you sip your tea.

“Any plans for the day?” he asked, he always liked to know what you were up to, his own days becoming routine when he wasn’t deployed, working out, filing paperwork, training some new recruits.

“Just some errands, groceries and tidying” you respond, glancing around the flat, it wasn’t messy, Simon would never let it get too bad, but there was some laundry that had to be done, a few scattered dishes to be washed.

He hums in acknowledgement, the two of you sat watching reruns of Eastenders, quietly joking to yourselves. You loved this time, there were no cars outside, no shouting from the other buildings, it felt like it was you and Simon, alone in the world. You sat with him before glancing at the time, 7:30.

“You’ve gotta go,” you said, moving your body off him, he nods and moves to the bedroom to get dressed while you collect the mugs, bringing them to the sink.

“I’ll be home around 4 but I’ll call you at 11,” he said, tugging a sweatshirt over his head.

You cross the room to stand in front of him, fingers running through his hair trying to tame the mess that had come from his tossing and turning, giving him a smile before reaching up to plant a kiss on his lips, he holds you there for a minute.

“Have a good day” you say with another peck to his lips as you watch him cross the room and leave.

You figure you might as well get some of your to-do list done now considering you might be too tired in a few hours. You manage to clean up all the dishes and throw in a load of laundry, deciding that you could vacuum tomorrow, plopping down on the couch your eyelids feel heavy, moving to rest your head against a pillow.

You’re woken up to the loud buzzing of your phone, eyes squinting in adjustment to the sunlight coming from the windows, you look at the screen 11:03, and Simon’s name is in full view as you answer the phone.

“Hey love, you alright?”

“Yea, just woke up”

“Shit, sorry didn’t mean to wake you”

“It’s alright, I have to head to the market anyway”

“Right, well, Captain needs me to stay later on base” You can hear the regret in his voice. “I won’t be home till late, m’sorry love”

You pout subconsciously, “Oh, that’s okay, I guess I’ll just see you when you get home then”

“Yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his head, “I love you”

A smile creeps up on your face, “I love you too Si” you respond, hanging up the phone, pushing yourself up from the couch to get dressed.

The rest of your day was rather simple, buy a few groceries for the flat, Simon had requested some sort of chocolate biscuit to snack on. You got home around 2 and made yourself something to eat before putting away the food. By 4 you have finished the laundry, feeling accomplished that you managed nearly all the tasks you had set out to do, rewarding yourself with a bath, you ran the water, lighting some candles in the room before stepping in and letting the warm water soothe you. You sat for 20 minutes, feeling yourself grow tired and deciding to get out (you had fallen asleep in the tub one time and Simon swore he had a heart attack when he found you). Changing into one of his shirts before settling yourself in bed.

At 9 you were woken up by Simon’s soft caresses of your hair,

“You’re home,” you said with a smile, turning your body to face him as he leaned down for a quick kiss.

“Have you eaten?”

You shake your head, “Not since lunch”

He shakes his head, holding his hands out for you to grab and leading you to the kitchen where you sit on one of the stools, he moves around the kitchen, grabbing pans and ingredients as you stare lovingly. You ask about his day, it was pretty typical aside from Soap accidentally detonating a live landmine in a field simulation. A few minutes pass and he presents you with a small bowl of pasta, he wasn’t the best chef but he managed to not burn down the kitchen, you thank him as he moves to sit beside you, his own larger bowl in front of him. The two of you chat in between bites, you watch his face light up at the mention of the biscuits you bought, laughing to yourself over the fact that such a large daunting man would be so happy over a simple cookie. 

Simon cleans up the dishes as you seat yourself on the couch, flicking through the channels to find something to watch before you feel the cushions dip under his weight, his arm snaking around your shoulders to pull you into him. You decide on watching an episode of some sitcom before Simon grabs the remote, changing the channel to check the score of the rugby game. The heat emanating from him comforts you, as you grow tired once again, he lets you rest against him for a while before deciding that he should try to get some sleep as well, his arms moving to lift your body, carrying you to the bed and setting you down gently before he strips into more comfortable clothing and joins you,

"G'night baby," he says, kissing your forehead.

He watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, tucking you into him and resting his chin on your head before falling asleep.

[auncyen]

SO WHEN I STARTED Sif having a bad King fight and then freezing (which lead to Isa and Mira being sad), I'd. kind of wondered where that left Loop, and that's like the one part I wanted to get to, even if I don't plan on writing past that.

Loop is...not doing that great. I'm still figuring out how exactly this conversation would go (Odile wasn't planned at first LOL) but yeah there's a lot of "UM":

You got better. You got to leave the infirmary, though they still wanted you to stay in the House itself for a bit, just in case something happened, rather than being all the way out in the clocktower. You didn't mind, because you felt you needed to be here.

Sif wasn't getting better. They were still frozen on the highest floor of the House. You started helping M'dame with the research she was doing in the library, including the secret library after Euphrasie entrusted her with the knowledge. She raised an eyebrow when you started skimming through tomes and summarizing the chapters aloud to judge if you should give it a closer look, put it back on the shelf, or put it in the 'maybe' pile--only tangentially relevant to healing Craft or Time Craft, but sometimes writers do go on illuminating tangents. "I, uh, used to be a huge nerd," you muttered, because it didn't feel like the time to hide your smarts when Siffrin needed a cure.

Odile looked surprised for a few seconds. "Interesting. I'd wondered."

"You'd…wondered?"

"You're the only man I've ever heard sound smarter with three drinks in him. I'm curious, but it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. We've business right now, anyway."

You did indeed have business. Unfortunately, it was a bust; none of the books you found had an insight into healing a powerful Time Craft curse that M'dame or Mira hadn't already considered. Mira looked increasingly tired and miserable by the day, and at the end of the week Bonbon came in the House to visit Sif and came down yelling because someone had left flowers at his frozen form and that wasn't right, it wasn't right, because Frin was going to unfreeze and be greeted by dead flowers and that would suck, and if someone had left them flowers the way you would at a grave that was even worse because Frin wasn't dead. Bonbon was very clearly more worked up at the idea of Sif being considered 'dead' than Sif waking up to see dead flowers, but you promised them that yeah! You'd tell everyone to wait to give Sif flowers until they were able to appreciate them again. Because of course Sif was going to be able to appreciate flowers again.

You didn't want to think about the other possibility any more than Bonnie did.

The four of you were all stuck in a painful limbo. The Housemaidens and townspeople didn't seem to know if they should treat you as heroes to be celebrated or glass vases ready to shatter, and as much as you tried to smile you felt increasingly brittle. It was kind of a relief when a new issue popped up: there was a stranger at the Favor Tree.

So, strangers usually weren't a problem. Most strangers are nice! Accepting the change that strangers may bring is a key part of the Change faith!

…Most strangers, even if they had different ways of dress and custom, still looked…well. People weren't sure if the stranger was even human? According to the scattered descriptions, they had a human-shaped body, but the skin was like the night sky stuck over the House when it was frozen, and on top of the body was not a head, but a spiky orb radiating light. Some people were scared the stranger might not be a person at all, but some new kind of Sadness left over from Vaugarde's ordeal, or even the King's creation, since…well, yeah. He'd pinned the night sky over the House while he was controlling it. And he'd had stars on his armor. And the night-sky stranger was lurking at the tree, hiding, which unnerved people once they noticed the new and unusual presence. One of the kids had gotten bold enough (he'd been dared) to approach the tree anyway, trying to call out the stranger to talk, and had gotten frightened by an inhuman voice snapping at him to go away. So. Even if this was a human stranger who'd done extreme Body Craft beyond what anyone in Dormont knew to be possible, they were a rude human stranger who'd decided to take over a town's Favor Tree.

…That was the best case scenario. At worst, they were something created by the King.

You decided that as an ex-Defender you were probably the most qualified to have a talk with the stranger and try to figure out who (or what) they were, why they'd taken over the Favor Tree, if there was an alternate arrangement you could work out… or to take them on if they proved hostile.

M'dame decided you were under no circumstances to do this alone, regardless of how well you'd been feeling lately, so she was accompanying you to the Tree. Which you had no complaints with! M'dame was good backup. You got to the base of the tree, standing under its crown. You didn't see anything yet, but the small handful of townspeople who'd seen the stranger had said they'd always ducked behind the tree or had already been hiding behind it, allowing only glimpses of them. They must have already hidden. "Hello, stranger?" you called. "I'm Isabeau, a Defender from Jouvente. Well…ex-Defender, but, um! My colleague and I would like to talk with you?"

"So now we're colleagues?" Odile murmured to you, smirking even as she scrutinized the tree ahead of you.

"Well!" You lower your voice, flustered. "That's how I was used to approaching people on the job."

"I'm teasing, Isabeau."

You know, you know. It still flustered you.

…Although the lack of response was quickly growing more concerning. "Stranger?" you called. "Are you there? Can you talk?"

Still nothing, except for the faint sound of grass being stepped on, like someone was shifting their weight. Odile huffed. "You go right around the tree, I'll go left--"

"Go away!"

You jumped at the voice. The kid's description really hadn't done it justice, mostly because it was inhuman, crackling in a way you'd never expect from a human throat. But after the brief shock, you moved to stop Odile from going around the tree. "M'dame, wait."

"What?"

"I think they're scared." The way the kid had described it, the voice had been threatening, but the kid had probably already been scared himself. Underneath the strange crackling, the intonation, the way the pitch had wavered… it sounded like the stranger was panicking. You didn't want to make that worse; you might force a confrontation where none was needed. "Listen," you said, raising your voice again. "You don't have to come out right now if you don't want to, but we still need to talk. Okay?"

"…Fine."

"First things first, are you all right?"

"That's your first concern?" The crackling voice was tight, almost sarcastic.

"Um, yeah?" It was now. "Look, people have been getting worried about you hiding out here, but… it's not like you've been trying to scare anyone, right? You've been keeping to yourself."

"I didn't mean to scare that kid. I haven't scared anyone else, unless people are scared of beautiful stars!"

So the stranger…didn't consider themself a person, but a star? Like in the sky?

"People are, in fact, a bit wary of strange stars after the King," Odile pointed out, which! 100% true!! But not something to point out right now!

The stranger immediately got upset, the crackling in their voice sharpening. "So, what, the King has a monopoly on stars now? Isn't he dead? It's not like you beat him with the power of friendship. Oh, King, I'm sure there's a reason you're doing this! We don't have to fight!" The stranger scoffed. "I know that didn't happen."

"The King is dead," Odile confirmed. "You didn't know?"

"You think I can just walk into town and ask questions looking like this?"

You and Odile looked at each other. Some of the tightness left Odile's posture. "They're acting scared," she said, and you knew from that word choice she hadn't ruled out yet the possibility that it was only an act. But she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt for now. "Isabeau, you're better at this, you talk to them."

…Well. Hm. They didn't seem all right, but they also hadn't answered straight when you asked about that. Maybe they weren't ready to talk about themself yet. "If you've got any other questions, we can try answering?" you offered. "I'm Isabeau, he/him, and M'dame Odile uses she/her."

"…They/them for me."

Odile arched an eyebrow. "But no name?"

"No, my turn for questions!" the strange voice said, but then it fell silent for a moment. Were they still scared, or struggling to think of any? You folded your arms and waited, not wanting to rush them. "You're…two of the Saviors. Is, um, the Housemaiden--Housemaiden Mirabelle okay?"

The question made Odile frown. "Why do you ask?"

"It's a little strange that you came out here to talk to me without her, if you thought I might have anything to do with the King. Not that I do!" the voice said quickly. "Good riddance."

"Three-on-one would be pretty intimidating," you point out. That's exactly the reasoning you would have told Mira if she'd asked to come along, too… but the truth is, she didn't know you were out here. Even though her long quest was done, the stress hadn't disappeared, and Siffrin's condition wasn't helping anyone. You hadn't wanted to toss more on her plate. "We were hoping for a nice talk! Anyway, she's fine." Burnt out, but time would surely help.

Time, and Siffrin getting better.

"And the kid traveling with you? They're fine too?"

They knew about Bonnie? "They're fine too. We kept them away from the fighting."

"I know, but--" The voice stopped abruptly.

"You know?" That…was kind of odd, especially with how quickly they'd shut up, like they hadn't meant to let it slip. You'd reassured more than a couple people that Bonnie didn't actually fight with you, was only tagging along with your group because even if they weren't old enough to fight they were old enough to decide where they wanted to be and they'd made it very clear they'd chase after the group if they were left behind. So the star could have learned that secondhand, but that seemed unlikely if they were afraid to approach people with their appearance. Along with the slip, it made you wonder… "Did you, um. Did we meet you before the Body Craft? …Is that Body Craft?" You cringed a little. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but--"

"It's okay. I, uh, I've been told how I look right now."

You immediately felt a pit open up in your stomach. They hadn't seen for themself how they looked? There was no way this could be Body Craft, then, at least not the way you knew it. No one in their right mind would Body Craft themselves without being able to track the process. But 'right now' implied there had been a Change. Odile had caught that too, her expression torn between wariness and alarm.

[spacelandz]

SO! You've seen these little things I do sometimes and you want to know the process!

It's genuinely super simple, so here goes! Apologies by the way if anything is unclear or glossed over. A lot of this is personal taste and such so I hope this can be a nice boost to create something!

RESOURCES AND THINGS TO KNOW!

To preface this little guide already assumes you have basic knowledge of color distribution, lineless art, or breaking up art into proper layers for later processing! I am also assuming that your art program has access to scatter brushes and tiling textures. Personally I use Clip Studio Paint, but this can work on other apps. Anyways, here are some good sites for this:

EZGIF - Free, easy gif maker for assembling any kind of gif*! It also has stuff like converting those damn WEBP's back into png.

*PLEASE KNOW THAT YOU CANNOT MAKE GIFS THAT ARE PARTIALLY TRANSPARENT. YOU MUST USE A SOLID COLOR UNDER ANY PART THAT IS OVER BARE CANVAS

Transparent Textures - Free to use source for HQ transparent textures that tile! Amazing for finding a paper texture for these if you commit to the paper doll look. Best results for textures that are in white or black!

So! You have a finished, prepared piece that you want to glitterfy. Well I'm not covering that right now so you can scroll down to That part if you came just for the glitter. This next section is for...

PREPARING THE PAPER DOLL

To start, your piece should already be separated into respective layers in any order you'd like! We're about to use a ton of clipping masks so Make sure you know your program before starting! So, as my example we have my oc Roy, resized to around... 1500x1500 or the nearest equivalent Smaller is better because it brings out the texture! He looks a little ah...Flat, though right now?

I'm using this guy for a couple different reasons! Those being:

Roy has translucent bodyparts! Just so you will know what to do with characters who are translucent! I'll get to this in a moment so sit tight

He has a clear, defined, and distinct palette that is easy to pick a color to slap the glitter on! This is important because I personally find balance to be the most appealing part of the finished art.

He also just has a lot of doohickeys on his design.

This is where you need your transparent texture! You can use any kind of texture and I encourage experimentation and such, but I personally use a simple paper texture. What we are going to do is go through and clip our imported and tiled texture to each applicable layer! (Make sure to just Copy and Paste the layer you do NOT need to repeatedly go through this menu...)

And... When you are done, you should have something like this:

"But why don't I just clip the texture to the entire piece through a folder? Why go through the hassle of clipping to each individual layer?"

Well that's because of the next step, where we will be adding the shadows. If we don't clip each individual layer, your shadows will look like this example on the left which sort of just ruins the 3D effect and kinda just looks icky, as opposed to this, which is nicer and smoother.

Now I'm no lighting wiz! In fact I'm rather mediocre at best but some general tips for adding the shadows:

Try to keep your shadows going all in one direction mostly! It gives the effect of one light source and generally just looks better than if you shaded around ALL edges everywhere.

Try to only shade where there are parts overlapping that need the dimension! Overdoing it can make the piece look odd. It's especially helpful to separate any details like different shades of hair, layers of hair, etc so that you can put as much volume as you want.

Once the shadows are all added in you should have something that looks like this:

Which looks good! Now I'd sometimes stop here if I can't pinpoint how I'd like the glitter to sit or if I think the piece just doesn't need it, but we're moving on to the big important steps!

ADDING GLITTER

This part is entirely up to your taste! But I'll describe how I do my glitter stuff. Firstly I start out by identifying which color I want to pop out. For Roy here I chose the red parts! For your character it may be different. Experimentation is key!

This is also, however where you need that scatter brush I mentioned earlier. Personally I just use the default CSP spray brush, but again go wild!

Make a folder above your piece, set its blending mode to glow dodge (or add, or add glow depending on what options you have), and create three layers inside of this folder. Setting the folder to clip is optional right now but will be needed later.

Then, fill each glitter layer with your choice of particle in whatever color looks good! Yes, you can do gradients and other stuff on the particles too! World's your oyster.

^ Unclipped example of a glitter layer.

Glitter tips for the early 2000's webcore enthusiast:

Use different strokes and patterns for the glitter distribution! This helps it animate better by moving around. For example this time I went diagonally for the first, horizontally for the second, and then in loose circles for the third. Particle density and stuff is also completely up to you.

Use a color that would pop against the intended area! For Roy I used an orange-ish yellow since it compliments both blue and red.

So now we have the layers! This is where clipping is our best friend once again! You're just going to go in and clip the glitter to whatever layers you want it on. Entire folder, not just one of the layers!

Once that's all done, go through and toggle the respective glitter layer for the frame, saving individual copies when done. You should end up with 3 identical images with different glitter distribution.

"BUT WAIT! JONES, THE TRANSLUCENCY!!" I hear you call! Yes, this is where we handle that! If your character is NOT translucent, you can scroll past this section.

Open up your frames all in one canvas, stacked on top of eachother (no jittering or slight displacement! ON TOP of eachother!)

Our layout should look something like this...Note how the translucent parts are rather hard to see, well if you took your frames and put them in EZgif, they'd be gone entirely! That's because you physically cannot have a partially translucent gif due to technology limitations. So an easy little cleanup thing I did was:

1. SELECT THE CANVAS AROUND THE CHARACTER WITH THE MAGIC WAND TOOL. Do not have any expansion settings on or it probably won't look right in the end.

Make sure you do not miss any gaps! I personally missed the gap between the arm, leg, and lanyard and I had to redo this next step...

2. SELECT -> INVERT SELECTION

3. FILL SELECTION WITH THE DESIRED COLOR. IT MUST BE OPAQUE. I personally picked this cloudy gray color.

You can now save individual frames of your character with the fill so that they don't go bald when you move on to the next step! Again, you should have 3 frames.

FINISHING UP

This is nice and easy. Upload your three frames into EZGIF and wait for it to process. It'll look like this if you're in the right place.

Once things have loaded, make sure to change the settings to the following:

FRAME DELAY: 0 (this is how fast the frames move.)

DON'T STACK FRAMES: ENABLED

You can play around with this but I generally leave everything else alone because you don't need it. Just hit the make a gif button and you're all done!

Aaaand that's it! If you've read this far...Firstly thank you for dealing with my rambliness and horrible explanation skills. Secondly, I hope that this can come in handy for anyone interested! Would love to see if anyone puts this to use. n_n

[fatuismooches]

I'm in love with the "Traveler finding fragile reader" scenario I've seen floating around your blog because this scenario is super interesting for Dottore specifically. Actually caring about someone else, perhaps even more than he does himself and his ambitions, not having the upper hand, and being almost wholly at someone else's mercy in a meaningful way are all probably very foreign things to Dottore. Since I suck at writing proper stories, here are some scattered thoughts.

After all the times they've encountered and clashed with the Second Fatui Harbinger, the Traveler had subconsciously realized that they would have to be just as ruthless, just as cruel as he is to neutralize him. They'd truly come to terms with this after learning about your existence, and muster the will to act upon this knowledge as the doors to the location you were being hidden in slammed open. Paimon's gaze snapped to the source of the sound, and in that split second the Traveler summoned their blade and held its edge against your throat. (As an aside, imo the Traveler would totally do something like this if they had to. We saw how they were willing to coldly execute you-know-who in the Aranyaka quest.)

As he burst through the doors, Dottore was greeted with the sight of the accursed Traveler's determination-filled glare, their white floating imp's wide-eyed stare… and the lab's dim lights gleaming off the blade held over your throat. Their surprisingly calm voice grates against his ears. "Paimon, keep your eyes on Dottore. There's no telling what he might try."

The only other time Dottore had ever felt this alarmed in his centuries of existence was when you just didn't wake up one day, reduced to barely clinging to life with the support of his modified Akasha terminal. This was a new first for Dottore - the first time he lost his rationality. Objectively, this was a favourable scenario - he knew the terrain here like the back of his hand, which would be a major advantage against an opponent as powerful as the Traveler. With this, he had a decent chance of permanently removing possibly the biggest obstacle to the Fatui.

The above should have been what went through Dottore's brilliant mind, devising scenarios to bring it to fruition. Instead, every cell in Zandik's brain was working in overdrive, trying to find a way to somehow get the Traveler away from you, to keep you safe. He knows the kind of person the Traveler is - if it were anyone else, he'd have no problem calling their bluff and striking at the slightest hesitation, but this was you, the only life he couldn't afford to gamble with.

(How the actual confrontation goes down is anyone's guess, since I don't have any concrete ideas. A proper fight is likely out of the question because a clash between two of the strongest beings in Teyvat is going to be incredibly destructive - you're almost definitely getting caught in the crossfire somehow, and Zandik can't have that.)

oh MY GOSHHHHH I AM LITERALLY DEVOURING EATING THIS UPPP

Anon. Im. I have no words. Your writing IS SUPERBBB. ITS AMAZING. All those things you said are so true. Even to this day sometimes Dottore is surprised he cares about you this much. He would have never thought he had the capacity for that previously. He always thought he had the situation and his emotions always under control, yet his love for you still blossomed. That was the one time he felt as though he could not predict something. The Doctor was known for his meticulous plans and actions, with no room for counterattacks or opposition. He was used to the cowered figures, terrified expressions of the people beneath him.

Until now. 

Dottore doesn’t have much regrets in his life. He doesn’t regret his countless experiments or people he hurt. That didn’t really matter to him. But right now, he was thinking that he should have killed the Traveler when he had the chance. Then you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation, the Traveler’s blade held dangerously close to your throat, hanging you on the thin line between life and death. (Traveler’s dull blade never seems to disappoint ig…)

The sight has him slowly losing his normal composed, rational train of thought. The tone the Traveler takes with him only worsens his thoughts, and he can’t help but think back to the time when he nearly lost you. From then he swore to never put you in more harm than you already were. But it seems like that was a broken oath now.

Scholars must plan for every possible situation and take everything into account. And now, he has to consider the possibility you may… 

There are innumerable amounts of plans and actions unfolding in his head, but each of them leaves you at risk, the one thing he has to avoid at all costs. He simply cannot risk your life. You still have a life ahead of you, the one that you deserve, one when he finally cures you. And he shall not let this Traveler stop him, no matter what he has to do.

Even as this goes on, the Traveler still can’t help but be fascinated by the fact they have the Doctor in a chokehold, not by sheer power, blackmail, knowledge, or anything along those lines. But rather from a person who didn’t seem to be anything special. If the situation was different, they would have liked to see the kind of person you were to be able to change the normally ruthless, unfaltering Doctor into a hesitant one.

I enjoyed this tremendously infinity/10, I loved how u described Paimon as an imp 😭 Traveler better watch themselves after that because when he gets you to safety, he ain’t holding back 🚶‍♀️LIKE I WISH I HAD MORE TO ADD BUT THIS IS PERFECT. I can only imagine maybe the Omega clone stepping in somehow, or a very tense verbal confrontation between the two of them where he has to give up some secrets in exchange for you. Or a crash/explosion from somewhere else distracting the Traveler enough to be able for Dottore to retrieve you.

[elgaladwen]

Fictober 2024 - Day 4

Prompt: "No, we're not doing that."

Fandom: The Lord of The Rings Online (OCs)

Warnings: N/A

“So you see,” Skuldfig was saying as she waved her hands for emphasis, bronze bracelets jingling, “It's this big ship, washed ashore, everything scattered about! But we must act quickly, before too many others have the same idea!”

Armardora considered the dwarven woman on the other side of the desk she'd been using, noting her wide, excited eyes, and the faint pink flush of cheeks above her neatly braided cornsilk beard. She admired her dedication to finding interesting things, but she wasn't so sure that this particular idea was wise.

“So you're saying that you, me, and Daeithilor there,” She tilted her head toward the only other person in the room, a tall, broadly muscled elf who was clutching a spear, and watching them with his big, blue, confused eyes, “Should go down to the river, where this heavily guarded shipwreck is awaiting the King's men to come see it safely taken care of, and take some of these items ourselves?” Her tone was incredulous.

“Nay,” uttered Skuldfig appeasingly, moving her gaze from the richly clad young woman behind the desk to the elf, thinking how much he looked like a lost canine, “Not him, he is good for roughing people up, but not for delicate work! And he cannot even understand me to hear the plan!”

Uncomfortable with the attention on him, Daeithilor murmured to Armardora in Sindarin, “What is she saying?”

He had come to this place with no knowledge of Westron, and though many here spoke Sindarin too, the dialect was different, and it had been hard for him even to find that in the lower circles of the city where he had been lost.

Skuldfig wondered at times if the wedding party from Lothlórien had left him behind on purpose when they'd returned to their homeland, for in her opinion he seemed far too stupid to be of use to anyone, but Armardora enjoyed practicing Sindarin in the way he spoke, using him so that she could learn the differences from what she'd been taught. He also did make a capable enough bodyguard, Skuldfig had to concede, for what he lacked in brain, he made up for in muscle.

Armardora shot Daeithilor a quick smile, returning, “I shall explain later.” as Skuldfig went on.

“Just you and I, you can say you're surveying the manifest for the king! I'm your assistant, obviously! Then once we're past them, I can leave another way with anything good we find, and I'm sure you can fit scrolls and the like in your bag of paper and pens that you clearly need to take record of everything!” Skuldfig beamed at Armardora, as if the woman had already agreed.

A huff of breath escaped Armardora’s lips. “Is this how you and your friend get all of your pieces- Wait do not tell me, at least right now I can pretend the things you bring me are not stolen!”

“Ugh!” Skuldfig uttered dramatically. “If only Ingfar were here and not up north, we would make short work of this ship! He will be sad he missed this!” Placing her adorned fingers upon the desk, she leaned in Armardora's direction. “And come now, it isn't truly stealing, we would make sure any items of interest got to their rightful owners in due time, with a small finder's fee of course, and more importantly, after you've had the chance to study them!”

Armardora's resolve faltered at this last bit. Surely there must be something of interest on that ship, or it would not be under guard in the name of the king. But no, it was still too risky!

With a sigh, she finally declared, “No, Skuldfig, we are not doing that!”

When she saw the dwarf start to protest, she added, “If I am caught, I might lose access to the old archives!”

“Nonsense!” The dwarf woman was quick to reply. “Your father is too important!”

“But if you're caught, that won't be enough to help you!” Armardora argued.

Skuldfig waved a hand dismissively. “As if I'd be caught!”

Tilting her head back in frustration, Armardora muttered after a time, “I know you will just go by yourself and get into some sort of trouble, caught or not, if I am not there-” She looked down at the dwarf again. “So I will go. But!” She added quickly before Skuldfig could celebrate, “We will just look, and I will not pretend to act on behalf of the King. If the guards want to indulge my scholarly interest, that's different.”

Skuldfig sighed, but nodded. “Fine, fine. Let's get some cosmetics on that pretty face of yours so you can bat your lashes at them some, hm? And perhaps do bring beefcake there, he could be distracting enough to anyone inclined the right way.”

They both looked toward Daeithilor again, as his eyes darted from one to the other, wide with worry.

“Skuldfig, I swear to you that I will pretend I do not know you if they see you trying to sneak by.” Armardora muttered with exasperation.

The dwarf in question raised her hands before her in a gesture of surrender. “Fair enough, I will separate from you once we leave the city, so that we don't arrive together.”

With a nod, Armardora rose from her seat, crossing to Daeithilor, and resting her ink-stained hand gently on his forearm, wincing as she felt how tense he was, and thinking, not for the first time, that she really needed to find a way to get him back his home. “Come to the river with us?” She murmured in Sindarin. “I can explain on the way.”

He nodded cautiously, and the three companions set out, the tall elf on one side, the much shorter dwarf on the other, and Armardora perfectly in between.

[weaselweaselw]

Deltarune: Why Gaster has a Split Personality

Holy shit... so, in case you're living under a rock, the Deltarune Winter Newsletter came out last night, and its release sent ripples throughout the entire UT/DR fandom.

Included in the Newsletter is a development update which states that Chapter 3 is pretty much complete.

The only aspect of the chapter still being worked on is the localization process from English to Japanese – the entire team is now working on Chapter 4. So that's nice - they even have an internal deadline for the actual game, so we can expect a release within the next year and a half.

However, the main selling point of this entire newsletter was the fact that it's themed around Valentine's Day. And as a result, there were a lot of Valentine's Day letters sent from the various Undertale and Deltarune characters. Here's one from Undyne:

Here's a list of all the letters. Some are short, some are more comical - but many of them reveal interesting things about these characters.

Especially one character in particular...

That's right! Even Gaster has a letter of his own! In fact, it's the rarest letter of them all that to my knowledge, only one person received, until minutes later, the letter itself was erased from Fangamer's website. However, the letter was archived in the nick of time.

Wow, so that was a lot, right? There's quite a bit to analyze here, from Gaster needing help, to him forgetting someone - and it certainly added fuel to the fire that is the deltarune theory community.

However, there's one particular debate taking place all over the internet right now, for you see... some people don't think that letter was sent by Gaster. For one, the tone of this letter doesn't match his usual scientific, detached, and robotic demeanor he's usually associated with. He appears much more down-to-earth, speaking in a much more formal way than he usually does. And for many in the fandom at the moment, that is enough ground to say this character isn't Gaster.

Despite how utterly insane and ridiculous this might sound to you, these people do bring up good points. And of course... these people also use the Japanese translation as evidence. In the Japanese version of Undertale and Deltarune, Gaster speaks in Katakana and Kanji, two rather complex and sophisticated alphabets, but in this letter, Gaster speaks in Hirigana - a more casual, laid-back, and simplistic alphabet, reflecting his demeanor.

So, what gives? Is this a different Gaster? Are there two Gasters at work here, who may or may not be at odds with one another? Is there going to be a Gaster War?

No. People seem to be forgetting something: Gaster was shattered across time and space, as revealed by Undertale.

This isn't just some figurative jargon - one of the Gaster Followers quite literally holds a piece of Gaster in his hand. I know this is often overlooked, but what do you think the psychological effects of this could be?

It would likely be an extremely traumatic experience, if I'm going to be honest - as parts of your mind and body become fragmented across the entire universe and across time itself. So: it's quite possible that Gaster simply has... a split personality.

There aren't two Gasters or anything ridiculous like that, but rather, the one Gaster we know has his mind scattered across the universe, quite literally fragmented - such that different aspects of his personality present themselves at different times. In fact, such a condition exists in the real world: it's called Dissociative Identity Disorder, and it is most often associated with trauma resulting in the compartmentalization of the mind into multiple personality states, otherwise known as alters.

These are not separate people - think of it like turning a light switch on and off, or closing a door. And this is my solution to this debate that has begun about Gaster - I like to think of it as a compromise, but Gaster having a split personality like this can really spice up the story a bit - and could even solve some of the lingering mysteries about what happened to the secret bosses, but as of now, this only exists as theory tape.

Thanks for tuning into my rant.

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

In the air, In the Moon

Inspired by My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

Joel Miller x Ghost!F!Reader

Summary: She was the first to go. Joel is learning to cope without his love. And then...

WC: only 4.6k warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (Reader mid 20s, Joel late 50s), bit of canon divergence, MAJOR DEATH (Reader), Reader is called ‘lovey’ by every one, Joel Miller crying a lot, TLOU PART 2 Spoilers, Ellie and Joel angst, Reader has long hair, domestic!Joel, husband!Joel, smut (ghost sex/handjob), suicide due to injury (Reader), hurt/comfort, murder hosue type beat (AHS SEASON 1), joel's suicidal thoughts, fluff, abuse (reader was a victim not form Joel), description of corpse, yooo sarah makes an appearance, i have poor knowledge of medicine, joel is a cat person, a little frank sinatra, religious imagery AN: Let's kick off October with angst, fluff, and smut. I'm sorry for what I wrote. playlist imagery masterlist

'Save who you can save'

He lost his head when Joel first saw you collapsed right outside of Jackson on a patrol trail. He expected someone older not so young and beautiful. You were a fallen angel coming into his life, you arrived alone and sick with the flu. He will never forget the whimpers when he picks up your body burning with a fever. 

"Shh, it's okay, angel, you're gonna get ya' some help," He gently picks up your body, and Tommy helps him get you on Joel's horse, setting up front so he could hold you up. Joel looks at how pale your skin is, the bruises scattered on your hands, and how ill-equipped you were to be out in the bitter winter conditions in Wyoming. 

Tommy and Joel came back with you sick, knocking on heaven's door when they had you rushed to the infirmary; rushed as in, Joel carrying you directly there and grabbing the town's doctors right from his office. 

"Found 'er out on patrol. Now listen here," His southern drawl comes out when he has tunnel vision on getting you well again. 

"You will give her the best medicine, remember I know whatcha got," Joel lets go of the poor man and watches him assess your state. Checking your temperature and finding you new clothes. When the doctor comes back with the set of dry clothes Joel brings him to a halt with a hand to the chest. 

"I want Nurse Cadence to dress her," Joel demands with a huff. The doctor nods and quickly goes to the nurse doing a check on the other patients. Cadence an older woman who was a nurse back before the outbreak. She comes with the set of clothes and a wrinkled smile. Joel nods and steps out of the room waiting for the door to open again. 

When Cadence opened the door, her face was in a frown and her eyes were welling up with tears. 

"She's been abused..." She weeps before wiping away the tears. Joel closed his eyes and bowed his head, he knew how heinous people were. He starts imagining the worst happening with you. Questions start bulleting in his head.

Joel could feel his benevolent side come out when he walked in seeing you asleep with your eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape. The doctor comes back with a wet cloth and drapes it across your forehead. 

"She needs sleep. I'll notify you as soon as she wakes up." Doc walks Joel out of the room to the doors. Joel waited for a moment before stepping back outside to the cold. Winter always made him nauseated and he really could sense it once images of your body in snow being left for dead wouldn't leave his fatal mind.

Winter was brutal, Joel tried to think about Texas and how it would get freezing but never snow and the sun would still come out. When was the last time he saw the sun? It's been cloudy and snowing for so long. He huffs out, his breath dances in the air like a ghost. Just another reminder that he is still kicking and screaming 50 years later. 

Joel would wake up every morning before patrol to head to the infirmary. You wouldn't wake up until 2 days later. You woke drenched in sweat, your chest feeling sticky, and your muscles all over your body just wincing in pain with every move you made. The day that you first woke up, you sat up straight in the bed and hyperventilated. Nurse Cadence had you calm down by breathing with your belly. 

You were shaking after your breathing evened out. Brain fog and general confusion were a mist in your brain. A tall gruff man stood at the doorway with flowers, where could you get flowers in winter? He was tan but fading to pale tan, had salt and pepper hair, and a leather coat that looked so warm. The nurse greeted him with open arms, maybe he isn't going to kill you? Where even are you?

"My love, this is Joel Miller. He was the one who found you at death's door." Nurse Cadence ushers in Joel and takes the flowers from his grasp. Joel's eyes were dancing around your face, taking in how the color of your skin was coming back, your flushed cheeks and nose, doe eyes full of fear. You froze in place, your heart slamming against your chest. 

"Howdy," Joel didn't know what else to do but stick out his hand. You quickly tucked into yourself and held up your hands for defense. You waited a minute before letting yourself look at Joel, he was at the end of the bed with his hands in his pockets.

"I-I'm sorry," Your voice was still horsed from not talking about days on end. 

"It's fine, just wanted to see how you were getting by?" Joel gives a half smile not knowing how to display his relief of you being alive. 

"I'm alive...I don't know how I can ever pay you back for saving m-my life," You bring your knees to your chest and wipe away the onset tears. Yes, you have been sick but he saved you from ever being found by your captor. It's been a long winter just as much as for you as it was for Joel. 

"Sorry, I don't mean to cry in front of you," You cleared your throat and blinked the salt water from your eyes. You giggled and that caused Joel to just fall to the ground and never your side like a guard dog protecting their favorite girl.

That small giggle from your pale pink lips was the butterfly effect to the end of your life and the start of Joel's suicidal thoughts again. But we aren't there yet in the story. 

That small giggle got you to where you were now, about to move outside of Jackson gates with Joel and the 3 kittens you recused. The farmhouse on the hill with a barn adjacent to the house. It was perfect Joel was getting his dreams with a few additions, you, his young beautiful wife, and 3 kittens that he didn't have the heart turn away from when you carried them in the house like a child. 

You were always trying to save others, which has caused you a lot of pain. Finding puppies and kittens on the brink of death, hoping you could cure them with the warmth of your heart. But it was like you were a living and breathing Grim Reaper. But these kittens were more than 4 months old and seemed to be living off mice and different kinds of rodents. 

When Joel asked you to be his love forever, it was a spring day and he took you outside of the walls of Jackson. He wanted to show you an abandoned home with a lot of land. You were excited to see the world again for the first time in a long time.

The hike to the pasture of land with a house that looked small until you got closer it got bigger. White paint chipped on the siding. The roof only missing a few shingles. A beautiful porch that wrapped all around the home. 

Joel watches your eyes grow wide and a smile paints across your face. You giggled and ran up the steps to the porch. Your hands glide along the railing, bumps hitting the ridges of your fingertips.

The giant columns towering over you, imagining having Joel install a hanging planter for the flowers that you love, maybe a few more for vines. You could see the cats liking to sit in the sun in the mornings and just sleep on the porch swing. A whisper of child-like giggles flows through one ear and out the other and a cold chill runs through your body. The hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. 

"Do ya like the place?" Joel comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You smile and nod trying to not show you were just stunned. 

"I love it," You turn around, and wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the end of his hair. He looked at you like he was in heaven and never had suffered through anything. The sunlight tinted the white sundress you had on, hugging your curves and complimenting your complex just perfectly. 

"I brought you here because there's different about you and well, my love, I want...I want this til' death do us part," Joel nervously rubs your back, and another chill shudders through your body, skin prickling all over. Maybe it was just hearing Joel saying forever or another set of invisible eyes watching you getting proposed to. 

You met his gaze and just drained from all color, seeing a little girl in the window just smiling at you. Joel watches your eyes flutter closed and you lose all strength in your body. 

"Lovey, are you okay?" Joel holds up your weight in his arms, you shake your head to bring yourself back to reality. Your hands slide down his built arms and intertwine your hands in his. You stand on the balls of your feet to reach his lips. You melt in the taste of mint and coffee on his tongue. 

"Til' death do us part," You whispered against his lips. 

Husband and Wife. Just like that. When you got back in town, Joel surprised you again with a small party at Tommy and Maria's place with Ellie and Dina in tow. You were always awestruck when Joel would pull romantic gestures. Your heart soared even more when Ellie approached and hugged you and kissed you on the cheek. 

"Congratulations, lovey." Ellie tried to sound happy, you could tell she meant it by her eyes screaming excitement even if she and Joel weren't on good terms. 

"Thank you, Ellie." You squeezed her when you brought her hand in yours. Joel nodded and looked away not knowing if he should hug Ellie. Maybe it's okay because this a celebration of Joel and you tying the knot. Ellie drops your hand, stands in front of Joel, and quickly rushes in for a hug. Without thought, Joel wraps his arms around the girl and kisses the top of his head. 

"Thanks, kiddo," Joel whispers to her. You move away from them, hoping they would have a moment to talk but that would be the last time they would ever talk. 

You started to help Joel fix up the house, and that meant getting up just before sunrise and not getting back into town after sunset. Always travel there and back with Joel. Never by yourself. 

"I'll be back a bit after noon, wait for me, lovey," Joel talks to you who was briefly awake to say bye to Joel. You groggily say bye and fall back asleep. He didn't know that you had a plan to take Ellie and Dina to see the progress going with the house. 

When you woke up, it was a race to get out the door and meet Ellie and Dina before they got there. The sun was giving warmth to the earth, morning dew wetting your shoes when you walked through the overgrown grass. Chirping echoing from tree to tree, you loved how the air was crisped and filled up your lungs. 

You stepped into the house and felt a sense of pride bloom in your chest. It was like the world never fell apart, and you and Joel bought a home to make your own. You walked into the kitchen turned the faucet on and saw actual water come through. You bit your lip and smiled at the thought of Joel being knowledgeable and how he still thinks like a contractor (his words). 

Having a man who knows what he is doing brings you such security. You turned off the water and went to the back shed to gather the paint supplies to hopefully lure Ellie and Dina to work with you today. Painting was the thing to do in the home. 

You hummed to yourself and heard a twig break from the woods. Your mind didn't set off an alarm, Joel always told you that this was safe. So that meant you were safe.

Right? He wouldn't let you be in a place that jeopardizes your safety. You quickly gathered the supplies and then went back into the house. Ellie and Dina were at the screen door talking about Jesse. 

"Hi girls," You greeted them and opened the door. They quickly saw the paint buckets and rollers. Dina was more than happy to pick up a brush and start painting the living room. Ellie followed you around like a lost puppy when you poured the paint into the pan. You handed a roller and showed her how to properly paint like the way Joel taught you. 

"He won't be here until later," You said casually to Ellie, the tension in her shoulders relax. You helped Ellie get into rhythm with her painting then you suggested putting on some music, no old country a request by Ellie. So you settled on some 50s and just listened to the jazz and classical mix together and created a dream state. 

Later came sooner than expected, Joel slamming the screen door and stuttering to a close. You jumped and bumped into the record player. The music stopped and Joel's heavy breathing took over the silence. Joel looks at you and only at you, Dina grabs Ellie and they walk out the door quickly. No goodbyes. Just the thuds of their shoes. 

Joel walks up to you and pushes you against the fresh eggshell paint. His breathing fanning your face, never seen him this angry since you first told him about the world you lived in before he picked his snow angel up from the ground 2 winters ago.

"What did I say this morning?" Joel asserts, you opened your mouth but he held up his hand. 

"I said wait for me, lovey," Joel softens together, his tone, and his eyes and he stops grinding his teeth. 

"I wanted to show the girls the house, and they helped us get a start on painting," You smile and him hoping to thaw his soft side more. Just so prettily, he nods and lays a kiss on your forehead. 

"And you were late, it's the end of sunset," You smirked and nodded to the window, casting a deep orange through the windows, he shook his head and a breathy chuckle. You always had to be right. He was late because the patrol Tommy wanted to do, was a bit further out from the original trail. 

"I'm sorry my love, what can I do to make up for it?" Joel leans his arm against the wet paint, you giggle and push him back from the wall. His hand grips your waist and pulls you into him. His hand-painted the clothes you had on. 

"I think you owe me some Frank Sinatra and a dance," You were drunk in love with Joel, it was nice to be with someone who had experienced the world and who knew how to be romantic even if you had brought it out of him. 

'Over and over, I keep going over the world we knew'

Joel pulls you in close, his one arm around your waist, and the other one with your hand in his. Swaying to the beat and when the violins harp and the trumpets blare he would spin you around each time, so effortlessly, feeling his body against yours. The broadness of his frame makes you feel small and so safe. You pressed into him and kissed his jawline while he kept you both swaying

'And the sun and the moon seemed to be ours'

You opened your eyes and could see the moon hovering in the sky and the sun was finally giving a wink before leaving the sky. It felt more right to be together in the moonlight. Joel was sweet talking to you in your ear, making you giggle and smile so much your cheeks started to strain. Joel spins you one last time and dips you back to plant a tender kiss on your lips.

You pull on the collar of his flannel and guide him to the ground. He hovers over you and cradles the back of your head in his hand. Joel tasting your skin, taking in your scent like this was the last time. 

It would be the last time. The last time he would make love to his love. His wife. Joel thought if you got to the home by yourself then you can do it again. You did do it again, but a stray infected had found its way into the property. 

You woke up early and made the plan to have Joel meet you there to work on the fencing while you stayed inside working on decorating with everything from Joel's home in Jackson. You didn't think to bring a gun with you since Joel said there hasn't been infected around in months.

You were trenching through the tall grass trying to make it to the house with snarling falling you. It was like you were running in slow motion through the dense prairie grass. Your mind racing with your feet and tripping, falling down and the infected following your motions. 

Screams scaring the birds away from the trees, and squawking almost intimating your pained cries. You grab the knife stab the infected in the jugular and spray blood across your face. The limped fungus falls in the grass next to you. 

The pain runs through your body, there was the mark of death with tendrils of Cordyceps etching over your veins. The birds echo again your cries, and you see a murder of crows flying away with your screams mimicked in their caws. You crawl to the steps of the porch and drag the pocket knife across your throat. You sputter out blood and it flows out your mouth like molasses and paints the white sundress you know that Joel loves. 

The crows fly over the town, still cawing your screams. Ellie looks up and to see them flying away from the direction of the farmhouse. Her feet were picking up and going to find Joel, he was riding back into town. She was rambling about how you might be in trouble and tears running down her face. Joel was confused trying to catch what was flying out her mouth. 

Ellie gets on her horse and Joel follows behind her. His heart sinks to his stomach, and his heart beats sweat running down his neck. The run-down grass leads right up to the scene. Joel hops off the horse before it stops. He is scrambling for balance.

Ellie gathers the horses and ties them to the tree, comes to see Joel on his achy knees holding you in his arms. Your skin is drained of color and cold to the touch. Eyes glazed over with a light film then dead infected a few feet away. The sun comes out from the cover of the clouds and shines right down you. 

Ellie felt her blood run cold and dropped next to Joel, watching him put pressure on your neck like it would make you comeback. Her eyes danced across your body and saw the bite mark on your left arm. She doesn't say anything but sit in the hot sun. Joel rocks back and forth crying into your hair, smelling the strawberry soap you had used the night before. 

'save who you can save'

Joel spent that night with your body prepared for burial. He stares at the table dressed in flowers surrounding your body, your hair brushed and curled with baby's breath pinned throughout your locks. You saw your body from the living room across from the dining room. Candles burning giving a romantic glow. Joel sits and pours another whiskey. If your dead heart could break again it would've when you watched the tears fall from his eyes. 

You wander next to him, causing the candles to blow out and a cold breeze by him. The blue moonlight shines on your body, and he sits up straight and holds his breath for a second and you quickly light the candles again. You don't want to spook him but to show how you're here and not really gone. Joel sobs out again and rests his head on your cold and stiffened arm. 

You gently a lay kiss on the top of his head, he shakes off the touch and buries his head into the flowers and just thinking about what he should've done. He should've gone with you, he should've built the damn fencing before even starting to work on the home. But he was too excited to start a life with you. Even have a baby with you. 

Joel buried you under the tree and planted flowers around it to mark your grave delicately. He wouldn't dare enter the bedroom, the bed was made up and he could feel your presence when he would open the door and just stare at the smallest things. The lotion bottle that you bought from Cadence in Jackson, rose hip oil and shea butter always making you smell and feel heavenly. He swears it lingers in the air, almost suffocating his lungs. 

Joel slams the door shut every time you saunter to him, taking how his eyes were always bloodshot, his beard was getting unkept which was not like him at all, his hair more grey than before. You want to make yourself known but he isn't ready yet. 

You didn't want to overwhelm him and put him in an early grave. You watch him every day, not leave the house, barely eating, talking to himself about you then start speaking out loud about Ellie not knowing what to do with her. You continued to watch him suffer until you worked up the energy to open a book of poems that you had cherished when Joel gifted to you. 

The book is laid open perfectly on the dining table, Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe. Joel woke that morning and thought he opened the book when he was in a drunken haze the night before. He sits down at the table with a glass of his morning whiskey (what he calls it). 

'But our love it was stronger by far than the love' 

The line was underlined in pencil which laid next to the book and your signature heart that you always added to your notes. That morning Joel poured out the whiskey bottle and settled for water. 

You felt more energy as Joel began to accept your death. You kept up with the poems, Joel never denounced the dead lingering on the earth. He wanted you to be there physically and hold him while he would bury his face in the crook of your neck, tasting the shea butter on his lips when he would lay a sweet kiss right below your ear always earning a sigh from you and smile on your face. 

Joel finally walks into the bedroom and sits on your side of the bed, swearing it was warm like you had been lying there waiting for him to come home. You were there, caressing his thigh like how you always done. He loved it, he basked in your phantom touch.

Joel flutters his eyes shut and moans out, he unzips his jeans and pulls down his underwear, and his hard cock springs out, resting heavily on his stomach. You reach and wrap your hand around him, stroking lightly Joel falls on the bed, letting memories of you and him in bed together. 

He is falling into a dream state when you appear in front of him straddling your lap. You smile and just continue pleasuring him. Joel whimpers thinking his imagination is running wild. Having you in front of him, you fist his cock and feeling the warmth of his skin in your hand once again. 

"Always been so good, lovey," Joel moans, gripping the comforter in his fists, sweat beading at his forehead and an ache in his stomach blossoming to his balls, pulling tight. Your hand moving up and down squeezing him a bit hard when he releases his seed, coating your hand and his lower stomach.

You bring your hand to your mouth, feeling how warm his cum is and the musk and salt hitting your tongue. You moan out, Joel breathes heavily and reaches out to touch your hand but you disappear in front of his eyes. Sleep taking over his eyes and shuts out the bright moonlight. 

Joel sat with poems and read the new poem of the day well night now since Joel slept through the daylight, just absolutely heartbreaking. 

'Remember your hands; how did your lips feel on mine?'- Love, Pablo Neruda. 

The book slams shut and is thrown at the wall, knocking off your favorite painting of horses running in the scene. The candles blow out and the record player starts playing Frank Sinatra. You were trying your best to calm him down. You thought you were helping him to get over your death. Joel stands up, walks over to the record player, and moves tonearm off the record, but you quickly put it back on. The record scratches and continues the song. 

"Lovey, it's so sweet but I can't," Joel speaks out in the open, you wanted to show yourself but again he isn't ready.

But when will he ever be ready? When he's dead?

You bowed your head and just watched him leave the house. This is the first time in months, he's been off the grid from everyone since the day of your burial. He thought he could wander back to the old farmhouse and die there too. Every day hoping death will come. He lost you and lost Ellie. Abandonment took over that night. 

Joel would spend the rest of his days back in Jackson. Keeping an eye on Ellie until his dying breath. The last sight he would see with Ellie with blood flowing through her nose and her pleas falling on deaf ears.

When the world goes dark and cold, the fade-in is just so warm and bright. He is back at the farmhouse, you on the porch swing with the book in your lap wearing the white sundress he had you buried in. He walks through the prairie grass with the sage green button-up and clean pair of dark wash jeans. You shut the book and could see that he was in the best health ever. 

"Joel!" You scream out maybe this isn't real and this is all a bad dream. This is life and you two have a happy ending. 

"I'm here lovey," Joel wasn't crying, he was perfect. Like God just stitched him up in a few places. He sees you. He's here with you...finally. You run to him and he picks you up without the grunt he always makes. Heaven is a place on earth. With Joel and the farmhouse. 

Can the dead mourn the dead? 

You smile and bask in his touch and feeling him in this other side of life. The little girl that was in the house before still peeks around the corner to watch you and Joel find each other once again. 

"Joel, I'm sorry," You started to cry. You have never cried before. The wet tears stream down from your cheeks to your neck, Joel brushes his finger through your hair, looking how beautiful you looked, just a bit more perfect. 

"I'm home forever," He smiles and seals the words with a kiss. Death do us part isn't true when he's back with you in the ground. Joel looks at the house and sees the young girl, and his eyes grow wide when he sees that it was his first love, Sarah waiting for him to notice her. 

You smile a nod to him, the young girl introduced herself to you when you first showed up the house that first night after your death. 

Joel bends down to her height and brings her to his arms, smelling her scent again. That scent he would've moved mountains before. Familiarity comforting him even after death.

[ifishouldvanish]

(sorry, one more bc it's been on my mind for a long time)

I worry though, about... the dynamic. Can someone really find and bond with another through their grief and loneliness, without this grim depression they share becoming *worse?*

For me, personally, whenever I think about them... I think there's going to be a level of catharsis. They have something that would be very hard to find in another living being, and a certain love for humanity and the past that would be difficult to find among vampires, and this shapes them into shattered pieces which fit together. But would they still be able to find happiness? It kind of feels like they're two damaged clocks that have coincidentally been stuck on the same minute and hour hand. Would they be able to heal and move time forward?

Okay so like!!!!

I see it less about bonding over the shared grief itself and more about what their responses to that grief have exposed in each of them. Like, in the beginning and on the surface level, yes. It is the grief and loss and loneliness that brings them together. But they are foils!!! I'm telling you!!! They can learn from each other!!!

I've mentioned probably all of this before in scattered pieces across all my posts at some point but!! I think the lowest common denominator, the core of their dynamic, lies in how they seem to have established their senses of self.

Alucard struggles with how not to define himself by his father, and then having to define himself in opposition to his father. "Slave to our families' wishes" etc. And when that chapter of his life closes he's like, "welp, guess I'll just entomb myself here 🤷" until Trevor and Sypha are like "what?? Dude no??" And he's like "oh haha I guess you're right, I can uphold the legacy of the best parts of both of my parents!!" And they're like "ya!!" But then a month goes by without anyone coming round to say "hey!!! Share that knowledge with me!! Fulfill the role you've given yourself" and he is just... so fucking bored and unfulfilled?

He needed they-who-shall-not-be-named to come along so he could fill that role, needed Greta to come along so he could fill that role. He tells Greta about how rescuing others sort of fills a void for him/gives him purpose, which is honorable, yes. But like... It's also so sad imo?? This comfort in denying his sense of self? "I don't know what to do with myself, just gimme a shout if the world ever needs saving again"?? Like Alucard, honey, babygirl, sweetheart... you need to learn to live for yourself 🥺

Olrox on the other hand is... not selfish exactly, but he knows what he's about and he refuses compromise himself. You killed the only man I ever loved? Okay, then I'm killing you, and no, I don't care if your nine year old son witnesses it. You want the juicy story of why that boy is terrified of the big bad vampire? Okay, but you will learn about my humanity first so you can sit with your cognitive dissonance about it later. You think I'm just going to throw myself at your feet because you promise us all eternal night? How about you kindly go fuck yourself? You happily stump for Erzsebet because she promised you that she'll create a world that will allow you to relive your glory days? Couldn't be me!

Like obviously we have a much more limited viewpoint for Olrox because we know so much less about him and his past, but this is not a guy who's waiting for someone to give him a purpose. He acts alone, he doesn't play nice with others, he has his own agenda, and is even a little bit of a hedonist: investigating the relationship between the abbot and Erzsebet? Might as well fuck a hot monk while I'm at it. I said eat the rich, but I might as well look good doing it. You hate/fear me cause I killed your mom? Get over it already. You think the opera singing night creature is annoying? Well, I'm familiar enough with opera music to know he's actually reading you all for filth, so I think it's great!

I think at the end of the day, Alucard is a character who defines himself by others, not understanding why he still feels so empty and alone. And Olrox is a character who defines himself by his own terms, but in being caught between both human and vampire worlds has learned to push people away because he thinks he is better off that way. But by the end of the season, his worst fear is realized: I cannot do this alone. I am at the mercy of someone else's help.

But Olrox isn't like anyone else Alucard has rescued before. He's a fellow vampire. He's a fellow immortal. He's going to be around for as long as he is. And maybe, in that time, a little bit of that ego can start to rub off on Alucard. Maybe he can learn to live for himself without apology, without feeling like he has to atone for the sins of his father. Maybe, just maybe, he can learn to exist outside of the role of the mythical savior.

Because Olrox doesn't want one of those—heaven's no. He can take care of himself, thank you very much. But what if he could learn he doesn't always have to? Who better to restore his faith in the world than the guy who has his mother's conviction that all of this mess is worth saving so deeply ingrained in him that it's been the primary source of his identity for centuries?

I'm starting to ramble here so I hope this is coherent, but in conclusion: they would be so restorative for each other and look so hot together and that is why I believe in Alurox supremacy 🙏

[theresattrpgforthat]

Are there any RPGs that would work well for a Touhou-styled game? What are your thoughts on recreating something as complex as a bullet hell shooter in tabletop form? Thank you!!!

THEME: Touhou Bullet-Shooters

Hello friend! Bullet Hell Shooters are not usually the kind of games I like to play. I prefer social drama over physical combat, although I definitely understand the allure.

I looked up Touhou and as far as I understand, it’s a shoot-em-up game in which the protagonists protect a haven for yoke called Gensokyo from various threats, or “incidents’. What I understand about bullet shooters is that knowing your enemy is key; so repeated runs or play-throughs are expected so that you can get used to enemy attack patterns, etc.

Now, I'm not a dungeon-crawling aficionado here, but from what I've heard about dungeon-crawls - that is, if you think from the point of view that rogue-like video games provide the same level of grinding and failure as a bullet-shooter. Dungeon crawls have the ability provide the same kind of feeling, because your characters have to travel the same ground over and over again. The difference might be that in dungeon crawls and rogue-likes, it's not just the player getting better - the character also receives upgrades in the form of equipment, or abilities.

So when it came to recommendations for this post, I found a few games that might vibe with Touhou themes, but I also tried finding some other rules systems that you could potentially play around with to find the style of play you're looking for.

Next Dream, by ohnoproblems.

A gmless, diceless game for 3-6 players using the belonging outside belonging system. You will need to know the rules detailed in Chapter 1: Playing the Dream found in the full rulebook to get the most out of this play kit.

Based on the Touhou series by ZUN, Next Dream lets you create and play your own stories in its world. Play as one of the colorful and eccentric denizens of Gensokyo as well as its undergirding social, metaphysical, and narrative pressures. Plot festivals and crash incidents; delve into the arcane and mingle with the divine; fill the skies with your own histories, emotions, and desires as written in the language of magical artillery.

I’m including this game even though it doesn’t really fit into the bullet-shooter vibe, because it’s inspired by Touhou. Your characters might be involved in conflict, but you could also take actions like “fall out of love” or “delve into old knowledge.” Belonging Outside Belonging games ask players to play both a character and a setting element, facilitating GM-less play. These games are usually very exploratory and emotional. I suppose the answer that the designer had for your question about recreating a bullet-hell-shooter was to… well not do that. Instead their goal was to focus on the story elements of Touhou that felt meaningful and abstract the combat out to look at the emotions underneath it.

This World Summons Too Many Heroes, by Nick Duff.

This World Summons Too Many Heroes!! is a tabletop rpg about regular people being pulled into a fantasy world to become heroes, demon lords, goblins, talking swords, or any kind of adventurer you could think of! Go on an isekai adventure in the Kingdoms of Ceria, where summoning scrolls have been scattered across the countryside and people are recklessly using them to steal people from other worlds and bring them into this one with new powers gifted to them by a goddess of reincarnation.

A hidden magical world is basically an isekai, so this game has some thematic elements that might resemble the setting of Touhou. The idea in this game is that people from other worlds keep being brought into one kingdom, and the sheer amount of them is causing a lot of problems. If Gensokyo is letting too many things past its barrier, perhaps the problems in This World Summons Too Many Heroes look pretty similar. The Goddesses Expansion is an add-on to this anime game, and it comes with new classes, new enemies, and new toys to play with in the same fantastical world.

I’m also including this game because it’s based off of the LUMEN system, which prioritizes combat and making your characters feel powerful. If you are interested in dynamic combat and the ability to face off against a vast number of foes, you should definitely check this system out. I even have a LUMEN folder where you can see a number of different themes!

Gun Witch - Lead, Thread and the Dead, by Blackberry & Holly.

GUN-WITCH: LEAD, THREAD, AND THE DEAD is a role-playing game designed for two or more players, centred on making your way in a world wracked by war and decay, where even the gods are struggling to find their footing. It’s a game about building community and connection inimical to the very context, about finding common ground with people who view things in a way you never could, and about doing what you can to bear a weight that you can’t let drop, no matter how much you might want to let go. It’s also about the weight and power of violence, wielding your weapon properly, and working astonishing miracles of life and death at the end of the barrel of a gun.

This is another game that lists Touhou in its list of inspirations, although it also digs into the western genre to give you a world full of danger and violence. This game also has guns as an integral part of combat - so expect to have the ability to shoot through your problems. Your characters are Covens of different orders, all of which take different jobs and walk the Sacred Path of the Six Chambers. The art really draws me in for this one.

Knave, by Questing Beast.

KNAVE is a rules toolkit by the creator of Maze Rats and The Alchemist's Repose for running old school fantasy RPGs without classes. If you are introducing a group of new players to OSR games, Knave allows them to make characters and understand all the rules in minutes.  Every PC is a Knave, a tomb-raiding, adventure-seeking ne’er-do-well who wields a spell book just as easily as a blade. This is an ideal system for players who like to switch up their character’s focus from time to time and don’t like being pigeonholed. A PC’s role in the party is determined largely by the equipment they carry.

Knave is a pretty well-known game in the OSR scene. OSR stands for Old-School Revival, which is a very popular sphere for dungeon-crawlers. Your characters are pretty small and squishy, and you are raiding tombs. It’s very likely that your character dies during play - and you’ll have to create new characters to throw into the dungeon and try to solve problems that you didn’t survive the first time.

RUNE, by Gila RPGs.

You are an Engraved. Cursed to wander the shattered world of Obron, you seek the power to take back control of your fate. Explore Realms, kill Rune Lords, and carve the power of fate into your very being.

RUNE is a solo tabletop RPG inspired by the soulslike genre of video games, including Dark Souls, Bloodborne, and Elden Ring. In RUNE, you are a wanderer of the lands of Obron. The world is dangerous, but full of power if you are willing to reach out and take it. RUNE combines narrative exploration with tactical combat to capture the environmental storytelling and high stakes combat you love in soulslike games.

What stands out for me in the RUNE pitch is the following quote: “Enemies have movesets that are determined by dice rolls, telegraphing their intentions and giving you a moment to react.” The designer also describes RUNE combat as a “puzzle” that you will have to solve - which sounds similar to the idea of learning enemy patterns in order to overcome them. It’s not going to work for group play, but it’s something that you could play around in solo mode and maybe steal some ideas for something else!

Breathless Games (SRD designed by Fari RPGs)

Breathless Games are games about characters who are getting into more and more dangerous situations, with depleting resources that can only be re-charged whenever you decide to “take a breath.” The biggest problem about taking a breath is that, well, the GM gets to advance the situation, make it worse. There are a number of Breathless games that have been made for different genres, quite a few of which focus on horror and survival, but there’s also a Magical Girl game, a monster-hunting game, and a southern gothic game! You can check out my Breathless folder to see what I’ve found on Itch so far.

Other Games I’ve Recommended

Mystic Lilies, by Will Uhl at Merry Mancer Games.

Blood Neon, by Rad Mad. 11dragonkid's video about Infinite Revolution also mentions Touhou games in terms of game feel, even though the game itself is in space.

I’d also recommend checking out my Hellbusting Games post, particularly the bit about Hell Grinders.

[aeonophagic]

I'm really glad you enjoyed these! the translator is actually user 17979 on here, they've written some really good After God fanfics and are a good friend of mine! the other parts they've translated are: original: "His soul seemed to have left his body. He was unfettered. There was no fear or panic. He felt nothing."

original: "It does not matter. They are one and the same. I need his power. I underestimated him."

and this one is more just a funny one from our treasured translator:

I'll have you know I had about the same reaction to the "You are the story I started 50.000 years ago" line, it just brings up so many questions; VA's lore is scattered as it is and very little is given to us, so just dropping something like this in a convo I doubt a lot of people have read is so [vague hand gestures] it's quite late at night when I'm writing this so forgive any incomprehensibility: the line itself, combined with some others there ("It's tone was surprisingly laden with grief, as if it was lamenting a past that could not return") read to me as slightly contrary to VA being merely a Divine Key, it sounds like he has an amount of history in the PE; my personal idea that is pure unadulterated speculation is that VA might have started out as just a person who had something to do with the PE HoR? it would explain the fact that he repeatedly speaks to a "you" which is clearly not actually Joey in this convo and doesn't seem to be Welt Joyce either considering the 50k years thing, that is to say maybe VA even inherited the core (woo Welt paralel) of the PE HoR; considering that Vill-V does say that the Core of Reason is fucking weird [paraphrasing] and, at least if my memory is holding up, Welt did retreat into the Herrscher Core at least once to avoid dying, there's nothing saying VA couldn't have also pulled that and ended up getting his ass merged with that Fragment of Prommy and turned into the only DK we know to be sentient, I dunno I'm sleep deprived that being said the 3rd line I sent last time would imply that VA was also like not human if all of this happened... I'll just say he yoinked a body Orokapi style and call it a day cuz I think if I keep trying to get these thoughts down on paper they will actually become complete word vomit [thumbs up emoji] anyhow the ramble section ended up being longer than I intended... but the fact that we really know so little of his lore does make my brain go haywire, if they ever explain Void Archives' lore properly that'll probably all be disproven but it's what I came up with considering what we know (and I remember)

“There was no more gravity that bound him to the mortal world” I think this one is in reference to Void Archives likely using the Fenghuang Down… ouuu

I definitely think the PE Herrschers besides Elysia all being nothing more than the names of said Herrschers in the story is one of the things that blocks my road here. Me and a friend have theorised plenty of things about the PE HoR, but none can be confirmed, none are even implied!!! A character with such a nothingburger that you can just make shit up and no one could tell you yes or no. My favorite theory is that the PE HoR looked just like Otto, but a girl. Because it’s funny. But now I don’t know… I can’t sacrifice my integrity for humor… I think the idea of the person that used to be what later became Void Archives was a part of the HoR core is really interesting. It would take from the whole “artificial thing struggles with humanity”, because then they’d have already been human once, but at the same time it would be as if they were reclaiming their humanity which is also intriguing etc etc… it’s really interesting. I initially thought Void Archives’ sentience came from them being part Prometheus since she’s sentient too, but at the same time why would Vill-V merge them with her then..? Because Prometheus is an AI so she can handle the “ever expanding knowledge”? Don’t know… so much left in the air, most Void Archives lore we know is stitched together thanks to No.17 who hasn’t talked about them even once. Thank you for sharing!!! I’m having lots of thoughts…

[tarnishedinquirer]

Church of Dragon Communion

On Yura's advice, I returned to the Coastal Cave, where Boc once lived. In my haste to leave, I had completely ignored the back exit. There were only a few Demi-humans back here, but they were easily dealt with.

I emerged on a small island. I'd seen it before, but now I knew how to get there. There wasn't anything here except small animals, so I started up the hill to the church.

Like most buildings in these lands, it was in ruins. But unlike most, it was easy to tell how this came to pass. Much like the capital, a dragon had died here, crashing through the roof and destroying the walls. It then petrified, and here it has remained ever since. It was different from Agheel, in that it had four legs instead of just two. Perhaps dragons had lost two of their limbs over the eons.

Just as notable were the numerous dragon statues scattered throughout the ruins. They were in no particular order, and were not displaced by the dying dragon. They were just placed here haphazardly, presumably sometime after the dragon died. They each had systematically had their head and one of their hands severed, a sign of ritual defacement.

This was a dumping ground. Statues from elsewhere, perhaps other churches, had been brought here and then just left. Why not tossed into the sea? Perhaps some superstition, which could explain why their right hands remained.

I decided to look around first before I would mess with the altar. Atop a large ruin fragment, I found a note in runes. I've seen plenty of runes written by other Tarnished, but as we are not especially learned in them, our messages tend to be simple (and sometimes crude). This one was more eloquent, but I understood it all the same

"Far to the east you'll find the Cathedral of Dragon Communion, where draconic power gathers."

I pulled out my spyglass and... ah. Right. It's in Caelid. I'll be going there eventually. Probably inevitable, really, but I'm in no hurry.

It was time. I stood before the altar, the eternally burning flame. It was a lurid maroon, a color similar to but still wholly unlike that of blood. The heart seemed simultaneously too small to have ever pumped the blood of such a beast, yet also too large for me to ever possibly consume. Was a small piece of it enough? Surely they could not expect me to eat the gravel stone.

It was not faith that brought me here. I did not place my trust and devotion in the power of dragons. Perhaps that would protect me from whatever corruption the heart will bring. If the power corrupts, then I will simply gain no power from this act. I will not use it. I'm probably not even capable of using dragon incantations.

But if I wasn't seeking power, then why? It was merely curiosity. No... more than that. It was an intellectual lust. If I could know it, I needed to. If I could do it, I needed to. I realized the inherently draconic character of such a thought too late, as I had already sank my teeth into the heart.

I tore at it like an animal. Blood coated my mouth, my face, my clothes, my hands. I was insatiable. A hunger that went far deeper than a mere belly full of food or a brain full of knowledge. It was primal. The faster I devoured, the faster I wanted to devour. I felt my teeth break on the gravel stone and still I consumed. The blood in my mouth was not just from the heart, it was my own as I swallowed the shattered chunks of my own teeth. I tore open my cheeks cramming it in. Where was my mask? How was I eating like this? It was impossible. the heart was gone. What was I still eating? Oh god my hands...

And then, I snapped back to reality. There was only the faintest trickle of blood on my lips. My teeth and hands were intact. The heart was gone. I chose to believe I had only taken a small bite and the fire consumed the rest, and everything after that was my mind playing tricks on me. Any other possibility was too much to bear.

Information flooded my mind. I was compelled to write it down, commit it to vellum in case memory failed me. I wrote feverishly in a script I did not recognize but could read nonetheless. It felt like a revelation, but not a divine one. More like some ancestral secrets locked away in my bones.

One of the incantations of Dragon Communion. Incantation of those who have hunted dragons and feasted upon their hearts. Theirs is a pure and overwhelming power.

I knew now how to become a dragon, at least in part. I knew that if I only believed, if I only understood, I could take some of their power for myself and breathe out their flame.

As long as I lived, I swore to myself, I would never do it. The power was indeed overwhelming. I did not like feeling so out of control. I did not like feeling like the vessel for something else.

I am me, and my soul is my own.

I will not ask questions of this. Some doors are best left closed.