#the close encounter of cabin 7

[unchartedstarsocs]

A drawing by @yourstruly9489 of my OC Jess, whom she insists on calling Wessica because Jess was somewhat inspired by Wes Weston from Danny Phantom.

[unchartedstarsocs]

I'm currently working on a comic, and for world building reasons I had to come up with an entire written language.

Eventually in the story there will be a translator, but in the beginning there isn't one so it would be fun for fans to go back and translate little details I left.

cannot recommend more putting secrets and hints in your creative work that you dont expect anyone to figure out

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader, Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, Wooyoung x reader.

Summary: Five eight-year-old boys aboard the slave ship Crimson Serpent form an unbreakable bond with five-year-old y/n. before she's sold at auction. Despite their failed rescue attempt, they swear a blood oath on her teddy bear to find her. Fifteen years later, now feared pirates leading the ATEEZ

Warnings: Slavery/Human Trafficking, Separation/Loss, Violence, Eventual Smut. SA(not by any main characters) y/n gets switched to a real name but it has a purpose., blood, injury. More warnings to be updated.

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‼️if you have read chapter 7 already please go back and make sure you have read the reunion part with Ella/Yeosang! It’s after the flash back scene! Something happened with posting and it got removed‼️

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Masterlist

Chapter 9

Breaking Walls

The first cannon shot shattered the morning stillness. Seconds later came the distinctive crack of a ball striking water near the ATEEZ's port side. A warning shot rather than a direct assault, meant to force compliance instead of inflicting damage—yet unmistakably hostile.

Ella stood frozen by her cabin's small porthole, knuckles white against the wooden frame as she strained to glimpse the approaching vessel. Through the limited opening, she could see little more than water and occasional flashes of movement as crew members raced across the deck above. The sounds told a clearer story—Seonghwa's precise commands carrying easily through the wooden bulkheads, followed by the coordinated responses of crew implementing well-rehearsed protocols.

Most unsettling was the transformation in tone that swept through the ship—the comfortable camaraderie of breakfast giving way to professional precision that forcefully reminded her of the ATEEZ's true nature. These men who had shown her consistent kindness were simultaneously the feared Compass Crew, whose efficiency against slave traders had become maritime legend.

A second boom echoed across the water, closer this time though still clearly a warning. The distinctive creak of gun ports opening followed immediately—Mingi's clever mechanisms deploying the concealed weaponry she had examined days earlier. The transition from merchant appearance to combat-ready vessel happened with a speed that spoke of countless previous engagements.

"Southern Trade Company vessel Meridian requests immediate compliance with inspection protocols," a voice bellowed across the water, amplified by speaking trumpet yet barely audible through Ella's closed door. "Heave to and prepare for boarding by authorized personnel."

The Meridian—Blackwell's personal flagship. Not merely a patrol vessel or standard escort, but his primary command ship typically reserved for high-value operations or personal travel. Its presence here, intercepting the ATEEZ in open water rather than protected harbor, suggested deliberate hunting rather than coincidental encounter.

"Curious timing," came Hongjoong's voice from above, pitched to carry across water. "Southern Trade Company suddenly developing interest in merchant vessels beyond established patrol routes."

His tone carried a carefully calibrated blend of casual observation and subtle warning—neither immediate aggression nor submissive compliance. Through years of navigating dangerous social contexts, Ella recognized the tactical approach: creating space for negotiation while simultaneously preparing for combat, revealing nothing of true intention while assessing the opponent's commitment.

"Your vessel matches description of pirate ship responsible for recent attacks against Southern Trade Company property," the Meridian's officer responded, formal terminology barely disguising accusatory intent. "Inspection required under maritime security protocols established by Regional Naval Authority."

The pretense of legitimate authority—using official terminology to disguise private vengeance—revealed Blackwell's typical methodology. Like his approach to slave trading, which disguised human trafficking beneath bureaucratic language of "labor acquisition" and "personnel management," this naval interception employed official-sounding justification for what amounted to personal vendetta.

"Our manifest and flag indicate legitimate commercial operation," Hongjoong countered, maintaining the performance despite obvious preparation for combat. "We carry no contraband requiring inspection. Your authority extends only to vessels demonstrably engaged in illicit activities."

The exchange continued in this manner—formal language disguising hostile intent, each side maintaining pretense of legitimate interaction while preparing for imminent violence. Through her limited vantage point, Ella could see only a fragment of the approaching vessel—naval design modified for commercial operation, its weathered hull suggesting extensive service despite relatively recent commissioning.

Most concerning was the visible naval cannon positioned on its foredeck—official armament that private vessels couldn't legally carry without special dispensation. The Southern Trade Company's influence with corrupt officials had clearly secured military-grade weaponry that exceeded standard merchant protection, creating combat advantage beyond typical pirate engagement.

The muffled sounds of preparation continued throughout the ATEEZ—feet moving with practiced efficiency, weapons being distributed according to established protocol, defensive positions being secured against potential boarding attempt. Unlike chaotic activity that might characterize less disciplined vessels, these movements flowed with coordinated purpose that reflected years of increasingly dangerous operations.

A sharp knock at her cabin door startled Ella from her observations. Before she could respond, the door opened to reveal a crew member she recognized from the galley—one of Wooyoung's assistants, now armed with short sword and grim expression that transformed his usually cheerful demeanor.

"Captain's orders," he stated without preamble. "All non-combat personnel to secure below central hold. Please come immediately."

His tone left no room for argument despite being phrased as a request. The ATEEZ's transition to combat operations had clearly shifted protocols—civilian guests no longer granted the autonomy that peaceful sailing permitted.

"What's happening?" she asked as she followed him into the corridor, where other non-combat crew members moved with purpose toward designated shelter.

"Southern Trade Company vessel initiating hostile engagement," he replied, his usual casual conversation replaced by professional brevity. "Standard protection protocols being implemented while officers assess specific threat level."

The explanation, delivered in language that mimicked official naval communication, revealed how thoroughly combat readiness had transformed the ATEEZ's internal culture. Even the cook's assistant now operated with military precision, personal characteristics temporarily subsumed beneath tactical necessity.

As they reached the central hold—a heavily reinforced compartment located deep within the ship's structure—Ella noted the methodical organization already in progress. Medical supplies had been strategically positioned near the entrance, while defensive armaments were distributed to personnel with secondary combat training. Unlike the chaos she had witnessed during previous naval encounters while in captivity, the ATEEZ operated with precision that suggested extensive preparation for exactly this scenario.

"Please remain here until all-clear signal," the crew member instructed, already turning toward his assigned position. "Doctor Yeosang will coordinate medical response if necessary."

Yeosang's presence registered immediately—her childhood friend positioned near the medical supplies, directing assistants with quiet efficiency while simultaneously preparing emergency treatment area. Their eyes met briefly across the crowded space, his expression revealing nothing to casual observers while communicating volumes to her alone: concern without panic, preparation without fatalism, confidence tempered by realistic assessment.

"Water secure?" he asked a passing crew member, his focus professional despite the chaos surrounding them.

"Six barrels," came the prompt response. "Plus emergency rations per protocol."

The exchange—brief yet revealing—demonstrated the ATEEZ's careful preparation for worst-case scenarios. Unlike vessels that prepared only for victory, Hongjoong's command had clearly established protocols for all potential outcomes, including situations where the secured hold might need to sustain crew for extended period.

Above them, cannon fire erupted with sudden violence—not warning shots but genuine engagement, multiple batteries discharged in coordinated sequence. The distinctive sound of the ATEEZ's guns answered immediately, Mingi's modified weapons systems delivering precise response that shook the entire vessel with their concussive force.

The battle had begun in earnest, pretense of inspection abandoned for naked hostility. Whatever diplomatic exchange Hongjoong had attempted had clearly failed—or perhaps had merely been tactical delay while combat preparations were completed. Either way, the feared Black Ship now engaged in the type of confrontation that had built its fearsome reputation throughout the maritime world.

"Damage assessment teams ready," Yeosang called, his voice carrying authority that transcended his usual reserved demeanor. "Protocols in effect if casualties reported."

Despite never having witnessed him in this context, Ella recognized Yeosang's natural transition to emergency authority—his medical expertise creating leadership role typically absent during normal ship operations. The crew responded to his directives with immediate compliance, revealing established trust that transcended traditional hierarchy.

"First wave, port side midship," someone called from near the communication tube that connected to upper decks. "Minimal structural damage. No casualties reported."

Yeosang nodded acknowledgment, continuing his preparations without visible relief or heightened concern. His clinical focus—assessing information without emotional response—reminded Ella of their shared childhood experience treating injuries within Blackwell's household, where maintaining calm often meant difference between successful intervention and dangerous exposure.

Another series of explosions rocked the ship, closer and more violent than the previous exchange. The distinctive cracking of wooden hull plates followed immediately, suggesting direct hit rather than near miss. Voices called through the communication tubes, reporting damage locations and severity with practiced efficiency that nonetheless carried underlying urgency.

"Starboard gun deck, positions three and four," came the report. "Hull breach contained but mounting platform compromised. Two wounded, non-critical."

Within moments, injured crew members were delivered to the hold, Yeosang directing their treatment with calm precision despite the chaos surrounding them. His movements were economical yet thorough, assessing damage while simultaneously instructing assistants regarding treatment protocol. Once again, Ella found herself struck by the transformation fifteen years had created—the frightened medical apprentice from Blackwell's household now commanding emergency response with absolute authority.

The battle continued above, cannon fire punctuated by smaller weapons discharge suggesting closer engagement. Through the communication tubes came fragmentary reports—boarding attempt repelled, rigging damaged but functional, gun crews maintaining coordinated response despite increasing pressure. Throughout, Yeosang continued directing medical operations while other shelter occupants prepared for potential escalation.

Then came the report that changed everything:

"Explosive round, forward gun deck. Primary mechanism compromised. Master Gunner down, condition unknown."

Mingi.

The simple designation—"Master Gunner"—created immediate shift in the hold's atmosphere. Even those unfamiliar with officer designations recognized the significance, the quiet gunner's critical role in the ATEEZ's defensive capability. Anxious murmurs spread through the compartment, concern evident despite continued professional response.

Yeosang's reaction proved most revealing—momentary stillness that broke his fluid efficiency, expression shifting briefly before professional mask reasserted control. Though he had never indicated particular connection to the taciturn officer during their private conversation, his response suggested deeper relationship than mere crew assignment.

"Prepare primary treatment station," he instructed, voice betraying no emotion despite the obvious significance. "Full trauma protocol, category unknown pending assessment."

The matter-of-fact response, delivered without panic despite the potential severity, demonstrated Yeosang's professional commitment transcending personal concern. Yet Ella, who knew him better than anyone aboard the ATEEZ, recognized the subtle tells that indicated deeper worry—slight tension around his eyes, fractionally altered breathing pattern, minimally increased movement efficiency.

Above them, the battle's intensity appeared to diminish—cannon fire becoming sporadic rather than continuous, orders shifting from defense to damage assessment. Whether the Meridian had been repelled or simply withdrawn to safer distance remained unclear, though the gradual reduction in violent motion suggested immediate threat had passed.

"Secure from general quarters," came the announcement through communication tubes. "Damage control teams to assigned stations. Medical personnel prepare for casualties."

The directive, delivered in Seonghwa's precise tone despite obvious strain, indicated transition from active combat to recovery operations. Throughout the hold, personnel shifted accordingly—some moving toward assigned damage control positions, others preparing to receive potential wounded, the remainder securing equipment that had been displaced during violent engagement.

Yeosang moved immediately toward the hold's exit, medical bag already in hand as he prepared to assess injuries above. As he passed Ella's position, his eyes met hers briefly—silent communication flowing between them without need for words. Unlike others aboard the ATEEZ, he understood exactly what this moment represented for her: first direct exposure to the violence that had defined these men's existence for fifteen years, practical demonstration of the fearsome reputation their childhood protectors had earned.

"Stay here," he directed, the simple instruction carrying multiple meanings beyond immediate safety concern. "Until we've assessed full situation."

Before she could respond, he was gone—professional responsibility carrying him toward whatever injuries the battle had created, personal connection temporarily subordinated to medical necessity. The hold began emptying as crew members returned to regular duties, combat threat apparently neutralized despite ongoing damage control operations.

For several long minutes, Ella remained in the designated shelter, processing the implications of what had just occurred. The ATEEZ—vessel that had seemed increasingly homelike during her days aboard—had transformed within moments from peaceful sailing ship to combat vessel of legendary efficiency. The men who had shown her consistent kindness had simultaneously demonstrated tactical brilliance that had earned their fearsome reputation throughout maritime waters.

Most significantly, somewhere above her position, Mingi had been injured defending the ship from Southern Trade Company attackers—the quiet boy who had once carved tiny wooden animals for comfort now wounded while operating weapons systems he had designed to protect his found family.

The truth hit her like a wave - something deeper than calculation or strategy. For fifteen years, she'd buried the emotional reality beneath layers of survival instinct, but she couldn't deny it anymore: these weren't just potential allies or tactical advantages. They were those five boys from The Crimson Serpent - the same ones who'd tried to protect her, whose failed rescue attempt had shaped all their lives for fifteen years.

Before she even realized what she was doing, Ella was moving toward the hold's exit, pulled by something stronger than caution. The careful composure she'd maintained through fifteen years of captivity, the calculated observation she'd practiced since coming aboard the ATEEZ - all of it cracked under the weight of something more powerful than strategic thinking.

The corridor outside looked surprisingly orderly considering they'd just been in combat. Damage control teams worked efficiently, fixing what they could, while the regular crew got back to their duties wherever possible. Despite damaged woodwork and equipment knocked out of place, the ship felt like it had weathered the fight well rather than taking a beating.

She headed for the medical bay, pulled by worry for Mingi and knowing Yeosang would be there treating the wounded. As she made her way through the passageways, she heard the growing noise before she saw anything - urgent voices and hurried footsteps that told her this wasn't routine medical work but an emergency.

Turning the final corner, she encountered scene that shattered her remaining composure.

Yunho and another crew member struggled to support Mingi's unconscious form, the gunner's powerful body limp between them as they navigated toward the medical bay. Blood soaked his right side, darkening his clothing and dripping onto the corridor's wooden planking despite pressure bandage hastily applied. His face appeared alarmingly pale beneath smudges of gunpowder, eyes closed and features slack in way that suggested severe injury rather than minor wound.

Behind them followed Hongjoong, his captain's coat torn and face streaked with smoke residue, his demeanor controlled despite evident concern.

"How's he holding up?" Hongjoong called forward, his voice tight with worry.

Yunho glanced back, still supporting Mingi's weight. "Bleeding's slowed, but he hasn't stirred. Yeosang needs to see him now."

"Faster," Hongjoong ordered, though they were already moving as quickly as Mingi's condition allowed.

Seonghwa moved alongside, supporting Wooyoung whose expression revealed uncharacteristic gravity—the usual theatrical animation replaced by focused determination.

"This isn't happening," Wooyoung muttered, his voice barely audible. "Not to him. Not to Mingi."

"Save your strength," Seonghwa replied quietly. "Focus on the task at hand."

"I'll focus on whatever I damn well please," Wooyoung snapped, though he kept moving in perfect sync with the others. "He took that blast protecting my station."

Hongjoong's hand landed on Wooyoung's shoulder. "And he'll hear you blame yourself when he wakes up. For now, get him to Yeosang."

The officers' presence spoke volumes - they'd abandoned ship management during critical recovery to accompany their wounded friend. These men weren't just a crew following military hierarchy; they were family. Their concern went far beyond professional duty, revealing the deep bonds between them.

As they approached the medical bay, Yeosang appeared in the doorway. His face, prepared for clinical work, momentarily dropped its mask when he saw Mingi's condition. Only someone who knew him as well as Ella did would catch that split-second of shock before he recovered - but she saw it clearly, and it told her this was worse than he'd expected.

"Get him on the table," Yeosang ordered, his voice steady despite the momentary lapse. "Now."

"How bad?" Hongjoong asked as they maneuvered Mingi through the doorway.

Yeosang's hands were already moving, cutting away blood-soaked fabric. "Bad enough. The shrapnel tore through muscle, possibly nicked an artery." His eyes flicked up to meet Hongjoong's. "I need room to work."

"We'll stay," Wooyoung insisted, his voice breaking slightly.

"You'll get out," Yeosang countered, not unkindly but with unmistakable authority. "All of you except whoever's strongest to help hold him if he wakes. I need space."

Hongjoong nodded. "Yunho stays. The rest of us wait outside." When Wooyoung opened his mouth to protest, Hongjoong cut him off. "That's an order, Wooyoung. Let Yeosang work."

"The main table," Yeosang directed, already moving to clear necessary space. "Keep firm pressure on the wound. Prepare the laudanum and clean cloths for when I examine him."

The measured instructions—delivered with detached efficiency despite obvious personal concern—demonstrated Yeosang's professional focus overriding emotional response. As Yunho and his assistant maneuvered Mingi's unconscious form into the medical bay, the doctor's hands moved with practiced precision, cutting away blood-soaked clothing with shears to expose the wound beneath.

Ella stood frozen in the corridor, watching the five men she'd known as children rally around their wounded friend. Calculation and self-preservation warred within her as they maneuvered Mingi's unconscious form through the medical bay doorway.

Then his head rolled to the side, and she saw his face clearly for the first time since the explosion. Despite the blood and soot, there was no mistaking those features—older now, but still unmistakably the quiet boy who had protected her aboard The Crimson Serpent.

Seonghwa glanced up and spotted her, concern immediately crossing his face. "You shouldn't be here," he said, stepping between her and the treatment area. "Doctor Yeosang needs room to work without distractions."

His words barely registered as she pushed forward, drawn by something stronger than caution or reason. As they placed Mingi on the table, his arm fell limply to the side, his sleeve riding up to reveal his wrist. There, barely visible beneath the blood and grime, was the faded scar of their childhood blood oath—the five-pointed star they'd all cut into their skin the night she was taken.

Something in her face must have alarmed Seonghwa - his normally composed expression gave way to genuine concern.

"Ella," he said more firmly, placing himself in her path, "this isn't the appropriate time for—"

Suddenly Mingi's body jerked on the table, a pain-filled sound escaping his lips though his eyes remained closed. Blood began flowing more freely from his wound, dark red against the pale fabric beneath him.

"He’s dropping," Yeosang called sharply. "I need someone to hold this compress while I prepare—"

The words faded into background noise as Ella watched Mingi's face contort in pain. The quiet boy who never cried out, even when injured aboard The Crimson Serpent. The one who communicated more with gentle touches than words. The one who'd taught her to be strong in silence.

Now in pain. Possibly dying.

"PUPPY!"

The name - that childhood nickname - burst from her throat with fifteen years of bottled emotion behind it. In that single word, y/n broke through Ella's careful disguise. The frightened five-year-old and the calculating twenty-year-old survivor merged into one authentic person.

Complete silence fell over the medical bay, despite the crisis of just moments before. Seonghwa stood motionless, his usually composed face transformed by shock. Behind him, Hongjoong turned slowly from Mingi's bedside, disbelief and dawning hope battling across his features.

Wooyoung gasped audibly, his hands flying to cover his mouth as tears immediately sprang to his eyes. Yunho straightened from his position helping Yeosang, his tall frame seeming to expand with sudden emotion.

Only Yeosang continued working without visible reaction, though his movements carried a new tension. His hands never paused in treating Mingi's wound, prioritizing immediate survival above the emotional revelation happening around him.

"Y/n," Hongjoong whispered, her name carrying fifteen years of searching in its sound. Not a question but a recognition, certainty rather than doubt, completion rather than inquiry.

The acknowledgment—simple name spoken with absolute conviction—broke the momentary paralysis that had gripped the medical bay. Seonghwa moved aside without conscious decision, his quartermaster's authority temporarily forgotten as emotional reality overwhelmed tactical consideration.

Ella—now fully y/n without qualification or disguise—moved directly to Mingi's bedside, ignoring protocol or propriety in wake of emotional imperative too powerful to suppress. She reached for his limp hand, covering it with both of hers as tears flowed freely down her face.

"Don't you dare leave," she whispered fiercely, words directed toward unconscious gunner rather than stunned observers. "Not when I've finally found you again. Not when we've all found each other."

Yeosang continued working with professional focus, though his eyes briefly met hers across Mingi's prone form—acknowledgment flowing between them without need for explanation. He had known her identity since their reunion in this same medical bay, had maintained her secret until she chose to reveal it herself. Now, as that revelation transformed the atmosphere around them, he simply nodded once—approval and support compressed into minimal gesture—before returning to critical treatment.

"Puppy," she repeated softly, using the childhood nickname that had emerged instinctively in moment of crisis. "Stay with us. Please."

Behind her, she heard Wooyoung's quiet sobbing, the theatrical cook's natural emotional expression flowing without restraint. Yunho's breathing had become audibly uneven, the gentle giant's composure fracturing beneath weight of confirmation. Seonghwa remained silent, though his typical precise control had given way to visible emotion despite habitual reserve.

Hongjoong approached slowly, his movements careful yet uncertain—the captain's authority temporarily set aside for simple human vulnerability. When he reached her, his hand hovered briefly above her shoulder before settling with a gentle touch that asked permission rather than demanded it.

"We thought..." his voice roughened with emotion. "We suspected, hoped, but to know for certain..." He shook his head slightly, as if still unable to believe the reality before him. "After fifteen years of searching..."

"Treasure," he whispered finally, the private nickname slipping out after fifteen years of careful silence.

The simple word—confirmation rather than question, recognition rather than inquiry—completed circuit of acknowledgment flowing through the medical bay. Five boys who had protected a little girl aboard The Crimson Serpent had been reunited with her at last, their fifteen-year search fulfilled in moment of crisis rather than calculated revelation.

"I knew it," Wooyoung managed through tears, his voice wavering yet carrying absolute certainty. "I knew! The way you broke the honey cakes, the way you watched everything, the way you moved. I knew it was you."

"We've been searching for so long," Yunho added softly, his gentle voice thick with emotion. "Every port, every auction house, every slave market."

"Fifteen years," Seonghwa confirmed, his typical precision giving way to uncharacteristic emotional openness. "Every decision, every voyage, every mission—all directed toward finding you."

Their collective recognition—five separate confirmations flowing from individual perspective rather than group assumption—created emotional resonance beyond simple identification. This wasn't merely correct person acknowledged, but specific individual recognized by five separate observers who had known her as child and now confirmed her as adult.

"I know," y/n whispered, tears flowing freely down her face as fifteen years of necessary caution gave way to authentic expression. "I've known since Wooyoung and told me about the lost girl. I just needed...time. Certainty."

Her free hand moved unconsciously to touch her collarbone, where the wooden wolf remained secured beneath her clothing—Mingi's tiny carving preserved through fifteen years of captivity, hidden companion during darkest moments. "I needed to be sure it was truly you, not coincidence or manipulation. That Joongie, Hwa, Woo, Yuyu, and Puppy had actually found me after all this time."

The childhood nicknames—spoken openly rather than whispered in private ritual—created visible impact throughout the room. Wooyoung's tears flowed faster, his typical animation transformed into profound stillness. Yunho's breathing caught audibly, the simple sound revealing deeper emotion than dramatic gesture could convey. Seonghwa's perfect posture faltered momentarily, shoulders dropping from their habitual precision as fifteen years of methodical searching reached unexpected fulfillment.

Most revealing was Hongjoong's reaction—the captain's hand moving unconsciously to the place where Mr. Hugs had traveled for fifteen years, the hidden pocket that had carried her teddy bear through countless dangers and disappointments. In that simple gesture, the feared pirate captain revealed the boy who had promised to find her again, who had carried physical reminder of that promise through fifteen increasingly dangerous years.

Beneath their collective focus, Mingi remained unconscious, though Yeosang's methodical treatment had begun showing results—bleeding controlled, wound cleaned and dressed with professional efficiency despite the emotionally charged atmosphere surrounding him. The doctor moved with careful precision, prioritizing medical necessity above the profound revelation transforming the space around him.

"Fragments from the explosion," he reported, breaking the emotional silence with practical assessment. "The flesh is badly torn, but thank goodness the larger blood vessels weren't severed. If we can keep infection away and prevent fever, he should recover in time."

The straightforward evaluation—delivered without emotional qualification despite the moment's significance—provided necessary grounding amid overwhelming recognition. Yeosang's focus remained on immediate survival rather than profound reunion, his practical priorities transcending even this long-awaited revelation.

"He needs rest and watchful care," he continued, medical authority evident despite his youth compared to other officers. "The immediate danger has passed, but recovery requires quiet surroundings and freedom from disturbance."

The instruction, while necessary, carried unfortunate timing given the emotional significance surrounding them. Yet before disappointment could register, Yeosang added unexpected modification to his directive:

"Familiar voices may help call his spirit back to strength. A few visitors can remain, so long as they don't interfere with the treatment."

The careful wording disguised compassionate exception—medical necessity balanced with human consideration, practical requirement tempered by emotional awareness. In this subtle compromise, Yeosang revealed understanding beyond mere treatment, acknowledging significance that transcended ordinary healing practices.

"He'll hear you," Yeosang added, his tone softening slightly as he addressed y/n directly. "Even in deepest sleep, the soul recognizes those it holds dear."

The assurance, delivered with both medical authority and personal understanding, created unexpected connection between past and present—the boy who had treated her childhood injuries now tending wounded man who had once carved tiny animals for comfort. Three separate paths converging in single location against impossible odds, fifteen years of separate survival culminating in unexpected reunion.

"We should move this conversation elsewhere," Seonghwa suggested, quartermaster's practical consideration reasserting itself despite emotional context. "The ship remains in recovery operations, and Mingi requires appropriate medical environment."

The reminder—delivered with characteristic precision despite uncharacteristic emotion—brought necessary perspective to overwhelming moment. Despite profound significance of their reunion, practical responsibilities remained: a damaged ship requiring attention, a wounded officer needing treatment, a crew depending on leadership despite personal revelation.

"Seonghwa's right," Hongjoong acknowledged, captain's responsibility temporarily displacing personal emotion. "We have duties that cannot wait despite..." he paused, words momentarily failing before concluding simply, "despite everything."

The brief hesitation—unusual for man whose strategic brilliance had created maritime legend—revealed emotional impact beneath professional exterior. For fifteen years, finding y/n had represented defining mission, driving purpose beyond mere survival or profit. Now, with that mission unexpectedly fulfilled during moment of crisis, adjustment required more than simple acknowledgment.

"Go," y/n urged, surprising herself with immediate understanding of their conflicted responsibilities. "The ship needs you. The crew needs you. Mingi needs proper medical attention without audience impeding treatment."

Her quick assessment—prioritizing collective welfare above personal comfort—demonstrated maturity beyond the child they had known aboard The Crimson Serpent. This wasn't merely grown version of five-year-old they remembered, but woman whose fifteen years of captivity had created both strategic thinking and genuine compassion despite systematic attempts to eliminate both.

"We'll need to talk," Hongjoong said, the simple statement containing multitudes beneath its surface. "When ship management allows appropriate space."

"I know," she replied, matching his direct approach with equal honesty. "There's much to discuss. But practical matters come first—they always have."

The acknowledgment—recognizing priority beyond emotional significance—revealed understanding that transcended simple reunion. Unlike potential expectation that childhood connection would immediately supersede all other considerations, y/n demonstrated awareness of broader responsibilities that defined these men's existence beyond their search for her.

"I'll stay with Mingi," she continued, her hand still covering the unconscious gunner's larger one. "If Doctor Yeosang permits."

The formal designation—professional title rather than childhood nickname—acknowledged Yeosang's current role rather than merely their shared past. Unlike potential claim based solely on emotional connection, she recognized hierarchy and expertise that transcended personal history.

"You may stay," Yeosang confirmed, professional demeanor maintained despite momentary softening around his eyes. "So long as you don't hinder the healing work."

"We'll return when ship operations permit," Hongjoong assured her, reluctance evident despite his captain's responsibilities. "Seonghwa will establish security detail to ensure your safety during transition period."

As the officers prepared to leave - ship duties temporarily outweighing personal connections - Wooyoung stood rooted in place, clearly torn between duty and desire to stay. His face contorted in an almost comical struggle as he tried to compose himself, dabbing frantically at his eyes.

"I'm fine," he insisted to no one in particular, his voice cracking as he straightened his uniform with trembling hands. "Completely professional. Just got some... ship dust... in my eyes."

He took three deliberate steps toward the door before spinning back around. "But you'll be here when we get back? You won't disappear? Because I have fifteen years of stories to tell you and at least seven new spice combinations you need to taste and I've been planning a celebration feast in my head for years just in case we ever—"

"Wooyoung," Seonghwa interrupted gently, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Right. Yes. Ship duties. Professional pirating to do." He nodded vigorously, backing toward the door while keeping his eyes fixed on y/n. "But later - celebrations! Music! Fifteen years of missed birthday cakes all at once!"

"The ship is still recovering from battle damage," Seonghwa reminded him, though with more patience than usual.

"Minor details!" Wooyoung waved dismissively, even as he allowed himself to be guided toward the exit. "Nothing stops a reunion feast! I've had recipes set aside for this day since—"

"Wooyoung," Hongjoong's voice held both amusement and authority. "We'll have time for all of that."

"Promise?" The simple question directed at both the captain and y/n contained a vulnerability beneath his theatrical presentation.

Y/n felt unexpected warmth at his childlike eagerness. "I'll be here," she promised, the simple words containing commitment beyond immediate circumstance. "When you return."

The assurance created a momentary pause in their departure. For fifteen years, these men had pursued a phantom possibility without guarantee of success. Now, with confirmation beyond doubt, the transition required adjustment beyond simple recognition.

Hongjoong nodded acknowledgment, emotion visible beneath his captain's authority. Seonghwa's precise movements carried unusual softness despite his continued efficiency. Yunho's gentle features revealed both joy and lingering concern as he glanced toward Mingi's unconscious form. Wooyoung, finally allowing himself to be guided out, kept turning back to look at her, as if afraid she might vanish if he took his eyes off her completely.

As they departed to address ship responsibilities, y/n remained beside Mingi's treatment table, her hand still covering his as Yeosang continued his methodical care.

"Just us now," she whispered to Mingi's unconscious form, words meant for him alone despite Yeosang's nearby presence. "Your little shadow still following after all these years."

The childhood private name Mingi had given her aboard The Crimson Serpent, emerged naturally after fifteen years of whispered remembrance. Unlike calculated disclosure or strategic revelation, this quiet acknowledgment flowed from authentic connection that had survived despite systematic attempts to eliminate all such bonds.

As she maintained gentle contact with the wounded gunner, y/n found unexpected peace settling within her consciousness. After fifteen years of necessary vigilance, of calculated survival through strategic isolation, she had found not merely individual ally but complete connection—five separate threads rejoining single weave against impossible odds.

Beyond the medical bay, the ATEEZ continued repairs after the battle. The ship's fearsome reputation had been built on something few would have guessed - a promise made by five children fifteen years ago. The feared Black Ship and its Compass Crew hadn't started as pirates for profit, but as boys determined to find someone they'd lost.

In the medical bay, y/n sat beside Mingi, her hand still covering his as Yeosang worked. The connection between them had survived fifteen years of separation. Whatever challenges would come from this revelation, they'd face them together - the foundation had been set.

Five boys from The Crimson Serpent had finally found the girl they'd sworn to protect. Their search had ended during a crisis rather than the careful, planned moment any of them might have imagined. And y/n, after fifteen years of hiding and calculating every move, could finally be herself again instead of just surviving.

For fifteen years, they'd all been guided by the same purpose. Now they'd need to figure out what came next.

As Yeosang continued his methodical work, y/n watched Mingi's steady breathing and realized something had changed inside her. After fifteen years of constant watchfulness, she could finally let her guard down, even if just a little. She wasn't alone anymore.

Taglist: @hopeless-lovex0 @frankielou02 @jilxxasu @kur0kki @lezleeferguson-120 @uniquecloudbread @miniverse-zen @symmieangela @monstacheol @ateezswonderland @comicnerd557 @pixie0627 @fumaluvr @princesscallie @green-moon

[jo1sstuff]

@yourstruly9489

Kinda reminds me of Jess for some reason. (cabin 7) What do you think?

Paper things

[thefrogdalorian]

You Are Eternal

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Word Count: 1423 Rating: Teen Summary: When devastating news that High Magistrate Karga has become one with the Force reaches Din in his cabin on Nevarro, he reflects on the complicated nature of their relationship. Din pays his own tribute to the man who witnessed firsthand his shift from bounty hunter to father. Content Warnings: Major character death. Grief, mourning... I wrote this to try and cope a little with the awful news and it's just.... really sad. Author's Note: I just had to get this out of me tonight. It was my way of coping I guess. I hope Greef lives on somehow in the show, I really do. But I think he was Din's first real friend and their arcs are so similar, it's so sad to think he won't be there anymore. Thank you for reading. RIP Carl, Mando will never be the same without you 💔

Din Djarin was, unfortunately, all-too accustomed to loss. The feeling of grief was not alien to him. Ever since that terrible day on Aq Vetina, when he had lost everything and everyone that he had ever loved, the fear of losing others seemed to loom large over his life, a constant uneasiness that had long clouded his interactions with others. That was, until he had been sent to Arvala-7 and encountered The Child, who he would eventually adopt as his own. It was a chain of events that would not have been possible were it not for the very man whose loss had struck him harder than any blow he had sustained in the profession that had once united them.

Despite how many times Din had undergone the mourning process throughout his life, he found that the news of one of his oldest acquaintances’ passing had hit him particularly hard. The rapping at the door, well after the sun had set on another bright and sunny Nevarrian day, took Din by surprise. But nothing could have prepared him for the message that had promptly been relayed to him. News that had been delivered by a copper-plated droid, of all things. 

When he opened the door to his cabin on Nevaro, the last thing Din expected to hear was news that the High Magistrate had become one with the Force.

In those first few horrible moments after hearing such devastating news, Din found that the sensation resembled a punch to the area just underneath the shiny beskar plate that protected most of his chest and abdomen. Although Din was an extremely skilled fighter, he had occasionally been delivered such agonising blows in that incredibly vulnerable place. Now, Din was reminded of such agony as he processed the news.

Din’s relationship to Greef Karga had undoubtedly been complicated and at times, volatile. A former adversary, to an acquaintance, to possibly something even more… like a friend. Din Djarin did not typically have friends. But as he sat there in his cabin, processing the news after dismissing the droid and removing his helmet, he began to wonder whether, perhaps, he had had one… without even truly realising it.

A friend that had passed to the afterlife, before Din had the opportunity to comprehend how much Greef had truly meant to him.

Of course, there had been Paz. But Din was bound to Paz by Creed, as a fellow Mandalorian. There were no inherent bonds such as that with Greef. Instead, the former leader of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild on Nevarro had become increasingly close to Din. Greef had gradually become a trustworthy presence in an often cruel and treacherous galaxy.

Perhaps it was the shared trauma of the siege in the cantina, when Din and Greef had barely escaped with their lives, which had been the catalyst for their increasing closeness. Until then, Din had wondered whether he could fully trust the older man. After that, though, there was no doubt. Greef Karga was, at the very least, an ally.

All Din knew with any degree of certainty was that as soon as the Razor Crest needed repairs, when Din and Frog Lady had barely escaped with their lives on the frozen planet of Maldo Kreis, it was the coordinates for Nevarro that he had punched in. After being rendered an apostate for removing his helmet and violating the Creed, it was once again Nevarro that Din had journeyed to in order to secure a droid for his expedition to the Mines of Mandalore. On that very visit, when Grogu had been in danger thanks to the rogue IG unit, Din had not hesitated to thrust his son into the arms of Greef Karga, knowing that he would protect the little boy.

Back then, Din could never have foreseen himself settling on Nevarro. He had been so consumed with his quest for redemption that he had promptly rejected Greef’s offer for a tract of land by the lava flats. Yet after retaking Mandalore and adopting Grogu, the land had suddenly become an extremely attractive proposal. The little parcel of land had become the perfect place for Clan Mudhorn to rest between jobs for the New Republic. Din was eternally grateful for Greef’s offer. 

It was true that Greef had done much for Din during the time that they had known each other, but it was equally true that when Nevarro had been under threat from the pirates headed by Gorian Shard, Din had not hesitated to raise a band of Mandalorians to follow him. There were few people in the galaxy that Din would have gone to such lengths for, but Greef Karga was undoubtedly one of them. 

Not to mention the repurposed IG unit that Greef had given to Din, for Grogu to operate, despite Din's reservations. Although it had initially annoyed Din (and the stall holders of Nevarro) as it had given Grogu a way to verbalise his insolence and feed his insatiable appetite, it had been an invaluable aid during the retaking of Mandalore. An aid that would not have been there were it not for Greef. Both Din and Greef owed an enormous debt to each other.

The realisation of what a key figure Greef had been in Din Djarin’s recent history almost sent him tumbling to his knees. That Greef was the man who had perhaps witnessed more closely than any other the shift in Din from a lonely, selfish, bounty hunter with a strict adherence to the Creed, to a man who would do anything to ensure the safety of The Child, even if it meant violating the Way. That Greef was gone.

For a second, Din wanted to run from the cabin, screaming and sobbing, pleading that this could not possibly be true. That Greef would never realise how much he truly meant to Din. But he quickly came to his senses and soon sought solace elsewhere.

Din crept down the hall towards his son’s room, ensuring that in spite of his emotional state, he was as quiet as possible so Grogu was not awakened. He just wanted to be close to him, to feel his presence nearby, a comforting closeness to the special little boy who had changed everything for him. Din was relieved that Grogu was sleeping soundly, his shallow, even breaths continued even as his distraught father stood in the doorway. 

Din feared how much the news would devastate the little boy who was currently sleeping soundly in his crib. Despite how much Din ached to hold him close as comfort for himself, he didn’t have the heart to wake Grogu. Although Din supposed, given the way that Grogu seemed to understand the galaxy around him, that perhaps somehow his son had already sensed the enormous loss of such a monumental presence. A loss that would surely leave a void incapable of being filled in all of their lives. Every sunset on Nevarro, a sight that had once left Din awestruck with its beauty and the vibrance of its colours, would surely seem a little darker from now on.

Din turned his back and left Grogu's room then, fearing that if he stood there for much longer, the tears that had begun to silently creep down his cheeks would develop into a more audible indication of his grief that would wake Grogu. Plus, Din had remembered a certain cupboard in the kitchen, the contents of which would provide a fitting tribute to the High Magistrate.

He had hoped that one day, he might invite Greef to the cabin for the advised smaller gathering to share this luxurious libation with him. Perhaps even face-to-face, without his helmet, such was the increasing number of ways that Din had discovered there were to walk; ways to be Mandalorian.

That would never happen now, Din realised with a pang of sadness as he stepped out onto the porch and into the moonless Nevarrian night. He placed two glasses onto the table by the bench and slowly poured the amber liquid. 

Then Din sat back on the bench, and raised a glass of the Coruscant wine to the stars, in a toast to his old friend. He spoke the sacred words of the ancient language of their people, a daily remembrance that he would now carry out for the man who, despite everything, had become his friend.  

“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. Greef Karga.”

(I’m still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.)

[strawberryshortcake1495]

The Story of Jasmine

(I can’t afford the fast-pass chapters so I’m not sure if her backstory has already been revealed, but as I said, this is all just my own interpretation and shouldn’t be taken as canon.)

Jasmine used to be such a happy girl. She was the eldest child in her family, having two younger siblings named Amara and Colton (aged 7 and 4). She was only 12 years old when she and her family went on a vacation to Savannah. They visited the Sorrel Weed House and Jasmine explored each crook and cranny of the house, drawn in by its history of being haunted. That’s when she saw a phantom from the corner of her eye but chose to ignore it. By the time her family left, it was nighttime, and they were making their way home when a large phantom blocked their way. In a frenzy, they quickly drove off into the forest and stayed at a cabin for the night. The next day, the phantom was gone but that wouldn’t be Jasmine’s last encounter with those ugly creatures. She and her siblings started seeing phantoms everywhere but they’d always disappear before they could really catch them. Amara told their parents and then they started seeing the phantoms too. This went on for like 3 weeks. Jasmine’s mother thought they were going crazy and started spiraling into madness. Jasmine’s father thought that the hotel they were staying at was haunted as well and that the only way to escape the phantoms was to just go home. So one fateful night, they packed their bags and started driving all the way back home. Jasmine kept checking her phone as they kept driving. 7PM. 8PM. 9PM. 10PM. 11PM. As the clock struck midnight, the skies turned red and there was a loud roar in the distance. Then the giant phantom centipede manifested and started chasing the family. Jasmine’s father was driving at speeds that shouldn’t be possible and Jasmine herself was hugging her siblings and trying to comfort them while crying her eyes out. Suddenly, they began to swerve off the road. The last thing Jasmine saw was a tree getting closer and closer and closer.

When she gained consciousness, the first thing she felt was something wet and mushy. Someone wet and mushy. As Jasmine’s vision cleared and she looked around, she realized something horrific. Her entire family was dead. She was laying in a bed of corpses. Distraught, Jasmine scrambled out of the broken car and began crawling into the forest. Her leg was twisted in a not-so-fun way. The only thing she could really see was the sky, which had returned to a somber dark blue with stars that illuminated the forest. Jasmine fell limp and closed her eyes, ready to die.

She awoke in a strange place with white walls. A man was standing near her bed. It was Maverick. Jasmine tried to leave but Maverick kept her put, and explained that she was sick. Infected with the virus. Maverick told her if she stayed, she could be able to help other infected people like her so they wouldn’t end up like her family. Jasmine stayed in that place for 6 miserable years until she turned 18 and started working professionally under the Paper Cranes.

Jasmine is presumed to be Patient Zero. A child who was gaslighted into believing she was crazy.

[unchartedstarsocs]

I was messing with a different style and made a pointy Jess.

I really like this drawing.

[unchartedstarsocs]

U.F.O. anyone?

Spotlight on Alpine Lake Grass

[whxtedreams]

Chapter 7 - The Cabin

Summary

Present: You go on a patrol with Joel

Past: A converstation with Tommy after the events of the Cult

CW // Fluff, Tommy being an idiot, mentions of past sexual encounters, PTSD, tooth rotting fluff, Joel just doesn't know how to let himself feel.

WC // 7,719

Now

Late Spring 2024

Tommy arrives at your house early the next morning, throwing small rocks at the wall he knows your bed is pressed against. He's done this on countless occasions, but after the first time he broke the window and accidentally landed a rock in your bed, he started aiming next to the window instead. As he continues to throw rocks, the loud smacking sound fills the air. You groan in annoyance and roll over in your bed, not wanting to wake up and deal with Tommy right now. 

"Rise and shine Sunshine!" Tommy shouts from your front garden, throwing another rock at the wall. You groan and slide out of your warm blankets, sitting up in your bed, your hair messy as you were woken up mid-sleep by the annoying and loud noise of his continued rock throwing. You crawl on your bed and slide open the window, feeling the cool air rush into the room. You lean your arms on the windowsill and look down, seeing Tommy ready to throw another rock but lowering his arm when he sees that you're awake and smiling up at you.

If the tall tree next to your front porch was planted next to your window, you'd bet your coffee that Tommy would climb it and bang on your window if he could. You wonder if he would've taken things that far if the tree was more accessible to him. You sit in your bed and continue to watch him from the window, thinking about his antics with annoyance, but a hint of fondness creeping in. Sure, he's a headache to deal with at times and he can be a bit annoying, but there's also a certain level of appreciation that you have for his playful spirit.

"You look beautiful as ever, sleepyhead," he teases as he drops the rock back into your garden and you roll your eyes, shutting the window on him. You sit in your bed in silence for a moment, not feeling very beautiful with your messy hair and the small signs of sleep still etched on your face. You lay back down and close your eyes, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep before you have to face the day. After a few minutes, Tommy throws another rock on your wall again. "You better not have gotten back into bed" He yells. 

You groan and sit back up.

"You better not have gotten back into bed," you mumble, mimicking Tommy's voice as you swing your legs off your bed and stand up. You pick up the discarded black pyjama shorts from the floor and tug them on before descending the stairs to the ground floor. You're a bit hazy and still groggy, not having fully woken up yet. 

Unlocking the door, you open it to see Tommy sitting in the rocking chair next to your door. He looks up at you with a grin and closes his eyes, showing that he has no remorse for waking you up early in the morning. You sigh and cross your arms, leaning against the door frame and looking down at him. "You have a key, you know. You don't have to throw rocks at my house," you say, your tone tired and irritated. 

Tommy's smile drops and he opens his eyes as he stands from the chair, heading past you and into your house. "Last time I just walked in, I saw you and Emily having sex," he grumbles, sounding a bit embarrassed and like he's trying to brush off what he saw. You let out a chuckle, knowing how he must've felt stumbling in on that particular moment.

He had walked in on a rare night when Annabel was out with friends and you had the house to yourself with Emily. The two of you had normally kept your sexual activities to your bedroom but one thing had led to another and you had ended up on your knees in front of her on the couch, worshipping her with your mouth between her thighs. Tommy had chosen that moment to come over and give Annabel a new book he found for her. He dropped the book and ran out faster than you've ever seen him move, the image of what he saw scarring his mind. You and Emily had burst out laughing at the sight of Tommy's face and his hilarious reaction. 

He couldn’t look you in the eyes for a week after that. 

A week after that is when he broke your window with a rock.

You shake your head and close the door behind him as he moves into your kitchen. “Well Em isn’t in the picture anymore so you won't walk in on that kind of thing anymore.” You reassure him as he sets the kettle on the stove. 

"Well, yeah, but I'd rather not have to scrub my eyes clean again," he jokes as he opens your fridge and smiles when he takes out the bowl of baked honey apples you made last night after Joel left. "You want any?" he asks, taking a bowl for himself and a mug for you from your cupboard. You're a bit surprised that he's already in the fridge looking for snacks, but you shrug it off and let him do his thing. 

"Just coffee." You reply, sitting down in a chair and sighing as you do so. Tommy nods and scoops himself a rather large serving of baked honey apples and smiles like a child in a candy store, his whole demeanour changing and his expression becoming childlike and innocent.

You watch him as he digs into the apples like a child, taking them in huge mouthfuls and making small noises of pleasure as he enjoys the baked honey apples. You feel a sense of dissonance between the man leaning against your kitchen counter enjoying the food you’ve made and the man who has killed and tortured countless people before. It's almost like this side of Tommy is hidden away and only comes out when he's around those he cares for, making you feel even more special for having the privilege of seeing him like this, enjoying the simple pleasures in life. 

You guess he sees the same in you. 

“I love you.” He grumbles over another big mouthful and you scrunch your nose as you see bits of apple falling from his mouth.

“You love my food.” You scoff playfully as he smiles over another mouthful. 

"Mmm, that too," he hums, setting down the half eaten bowl of honey apples and beginning to make coffee for the two of you. He moves around your kitchen like it's his own, acting as if it's a familiar space. You recall how at one point, it was his home. When you first arrived in Jackson, Tommy refused to settle down in any house besides your own. It took three months for him to eventually come around and feel safe in the town, when you were safe in his eyes, along with Annabel.

It took another six months before he finally stopped using the spare room as his own and officially moved in with Maria, whom he quickly fell in love with and made him feel even more at home in the small town of Jackson.   

Tommy sets your favourite bee painted mug in front of you before bringing his own mug and bowl over to sit beside you where Joel had sat the previous night. As you take a sip of hot coffee, you smile into it as you're filled with the comfort of knowing that he's made it just the way you like it, showing a level of care and thoughtfulness towards you.  As the morning light pours through the windows, it paints your surroundings in a warm glow as the warmth of the coffee heats up your body from the inside out.    

"So, I'm guessing you didn't come over just for food and company," you begin, questioning him on his early visit. You expect to hear that something is wrong but instead he only smiles at you and sets down his coffee mug. 

"You want to go back on patrol-"

"Yes," you interrupt him, your tone firm and sure. He freezes in his tracks and lets out a huff of laughter at your quick response, not expecting to be cut off like that. You're already halfway out of your seat and grabbing your jacket from the back of the chair. Tommy stares at you for a moment, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Not right now Sunshine, calm down," he puffs out, sounding a bit exasperated. He holds out a hand to stop you, his tone changing to one of concern instead of his previous friendliness. "Maria and I think you're ready to get back out there," he continues, sounding a bit more stern, "but we have some conditions." You set your jacket back down reluctantly and sit back down beside him, waiting to hear what these conditions are before you're allowed to go back out on patrol.

"And what condition would that be?" you cautiously ask, already knowing that you'll agree to whatever terms he sets, but wanting to have it spelled out for you anyway to make sure you don't go blindly into agreeing to them. 

Tommy smirks at you and crosses his arms, looking quite pleased with himself and whatever plan he's come up with. "Well, if we are going to let you back out there, I want you to take a patrol partner with you.”

You frown at his request, not liking the idea of having to take a partner with you for your patrols. Your usual route is quiet enough and doesn't warrant the need for multiple people to go, as you're more than capable of doing the patrol alone. You would occasionally take Tommy along with you if you were doing a supply run or a more difficult route, but you were comfortable going alone for the most part.  

"Joel knows the route well enough by now, since he's been covering the cabin for you," Tommy continues, and you let out a puff of air at the thought, feeling a bit relieved that your first choice for a patrol partner was actually the correct one. You weren't annoyed or frustrated by Tommy's condition either, as Joel would be a good partner, and you're glad that Tommy didn't try to set you up with someone younger or inexperienced.

"Yeah, okay. I think I can manage that," you respond, nodding in agreement. You take a sip of your coffee and swirl the warm liquid in your mouth before continuing. "You said conditions, as in plural. What else?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in expectation of what he has to say next.

Tommy finishes the last of his apples and pushes the bowl away, placing a hand onto his stomach and letting out a contented sigh. "You start doing supply runs more often and… Maria and I are having a barbeque next week to properly welcome Joel and Ellie," he says, his tone sounding like an invitation, but more of a command rather than a request, "We want you to be there." You frown at him, a little taken aback by his order but knowing that you'll have no choice but to follow what he says.

"Tommy-" you begin, not wanting to argue with him or go against his command. He looks over at you with pleading eyes, and you groan and lean against the table with your elbows. Resting your head in your hands, you sigh and consider your options. 

More supply runs, easy. But you don't like social gatherings as they're too crowded and you find yourself feeling overwhelmed by being around so many people. Even though you've been living in Jackson for almost five years now, you still find yourself uncomfortable being around that many people.

"It's just going to be a few people, just family. No crowds." He informs you as he starts to see you internally panic.

You reluctantly give in and agree to go to the barbecue. “Fine.” You mumble under your breath. 

Tommy's hand reaches out and rubs your back before standing from the table. "Next week, Saturday," he informs you, stepping towards the archway and stopping before turning back to you, pointing at the fridge. "You can even bring some of those baked honey apple slices, I'd really like that," he adds, and you lift your head from your hands with a small laugh. 

"Are you only inviting me for my food?" you tease, your tone playful and your expression mischievous as you look up at Tommy, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Of course I am.” He says as he breaks out in a big grin. You roll your eyes as he waves goodbye. You think he’s left but he reappears in the archway again. “Make sure to take your meds before the party, yeah? They’ll help.” He gives you another reassuring smile as you tell him you will and he actually leaves this time, leaving you once again alone in your house. 

It’s too quiet. 

You stand from the table and place a record on the turntable beside the stairs, the soft voice of Elvis filling the room. You close your eyes and allow your body to relax as it absorbs the melody and fills your racing mind. 

You spend the next few hours puttering around your house, cleaning and preparing for your first patrol in weeks. You go through your collection of guns and knives in the lockers in the garage, cleaning each one thoroughly and making sure all the guns are loaded with bullets and all the knives are sharp. You take your time and make sure to treat each weapon with care and ensure that it's in working order, making sure that you're well stocked and prepared for whatever might come your way while you're on patrol.

“Ellie.” Joel warns as the teenager attempts to leave the house quietly without him knowing. “What have we talked about, kiddo?” He tries to remind her as he stands at his kitchen sink, drying off dishes from breakfast that the two of them had shared with Tommy.

Tommy had wandered over mid-morning as Joel was preparing breakfast. His younger brother had initially debated internally as to whether or not he wanted to stay for breakfast. The debate didn't last long, however, as he set himself a seat at the table and began helping Joel with making the food, despite Joel's resistance at first.

Tommy had come over to invite both himself and Ellie to a barbecue he was hosting in honour of them joining the community. Joel had groaned at the news but agreed in the end. He hated gatherings, even more so after the outbreak. There were too many people, and too many things could go wrong. It was too loud and deafened out any lingering threats. He really didn’t want to go.  

He then moved on to mention that you were going to start accompanying him on the patrols. Tommy had explained that after your injury, he felt better knowing that you weren't alone at the cabin anymore and would have backup whenever you did a patrol, especially since he had a gut feeling that the cult you were after could also be hunting the both of you. 

Now that Joel comes to think of it, Tommy had smelt like honey when he was over. Had he come from your place?

Ellie responds by turning away and muttering something under her breath, her expression filled with annoyance.

Joel sighs and sets down the plate he was drying, looking towards Ellie. "Come on Ellie, I'm just asking where you're going," he explains, his tone a bit softer now as he attempts to reassure her that he's not opposed to the idea of her going out. "I won't say no, I just want to make sure you're okay," he continues, his concern evident in his tone as he tries to ease Ellie's nerves about going outside on her own.

She shrugs, moving back and forth on her toes and heels, her grip tightening on the straps of her backpack. "Just hanging out with some friends," she replies, not making eye contact with Joel and doing her best to downplay what she's really up to.

Joel raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his shoulder, the dishcloth laying across his shoulders. "Right. And where are these friends hanging out?" he asks, knowing very well that there's more to the story than Ellie is letting on. A small smirk appears on Ellie's face, and she takes some time to respond, wanting to prolong the conversation and Joel's annoyance.

"Just by the river," she replies under her breath, her tone a bit more sheepish now, as she looks down at her dirty shoes. Joel had tried to clean them for her after they arrived in Jackson, but she refused to let him touch them. She said the dirt brought them charm, he really doesn't understand teenagers.

"Alright, so the river," Joel replies to Ellie, feigning a stern tone, but she can tell that he's just joking. She responds with a big smile and excitement, which prompts Joel to ask her, "What time should I expect you back before I send out a search party?" Ellie lets out a light scoff, the idea that she'd get lost out in the woods or river completely ridiculous to her.

“You’re fine with me leaving Jackson?” She beams and stops rocking on her feet. 

"No, but you're going to anyway, aren't you?" Joel argues, but she nods in acknowledgment, confirming that she'll leave regardless of his opinion on the matter. "I'd just rather know when and where you're venturing out," he continues, showing that he at least won't stand in her way or do anything to prevent her from going. He might not agree with what she's planning to do, but he'll at the very least give her the freedom to do what she wants.

"Just be back before I get back from patrol, yeah? I'd rather not have to come looking for ya at night," Joel reasons with Ellie, hoping to get her to stick to that curfew. She nods in understanding and rushes out of the house, not wanting to spend any more time arguing with him. She'll probably get caught up in hanging out with her friends or doing whatever it is she has planned, but she'll at the very least try to get back before Joel finishes his patrol. He hopes . She'll probably push her curfew to the last second though, wanting to spend the maximum time possible out having fun. 

The door slams behind Ellie, causing Joel to flinch and his hand to instinctively reach for the absent gun in his pants. He closes his eyes and takes a slow, shaky breath, trying to calm himself.  

He’s safe. 

He’s safe . 

Joel spends the morning upstairs, emptying out a room he’s planning on using as a woodworking room. He desperately wants to make a guitar, or at least things to litter his house with. Maybe even make something for Ellie and Tommy. And maybe you. You had a singular pirate ship on top of one of your bookshelves, another one would look really nice on the other side to balance it out.  

A knock suddenly interrupts Joel's day-dreaming, sending him racing up from his seat, his hand already instinctively reaching for the absent gun in his pants. He curses and runs a hand through his hair in a sign of frustration, bending down to pick up the spoon that had clattered to the floor.

When he opens the door to find you there, your back facing him, his heart rate climbs for a different reason. You turn at the sound of the door opening and flash him a soft smile. Joel tries not to stare, but he can't help himself. The simple act of you smiling sends shivers down his spine. 

You're dressed in short black cargo shorts with two knives attached to each side of the waist band. A skin-tight black long-sleeved shirt is tucked into your shorts, with a deep V-neck that is laced together with thin rope a zig-zag way. A gun is holstered to your thigh, and Joel notices a small amount of pudge around the holster's straps, and hates to admit that it makes his mouth go bone dry. You're also wearing some brown lace-up boots, a knife placed in each shoe. 

Your hair is also in a low ponytail, with small strands of hair framing your face and that makes his old knees feel weak. 

You’re dressed for patrol. Right . Patrol. Shit he forgot about patrol.

"You...ah...You look nice," Joel compliments you awkwardly, and mentally berates himself for sounding so awkward. He's not used to giving out compliments easily and feels almost a little embarrassed at complimenting you just now. However, it was the truth, and you really do look nice. In fact, you look stunning, and Joel doesn't know how he's going to be able to handle the tension and emotions he's feeling towards you.

A high pitched Ha escapes your throat and you slap your hand over your mouth the second you make the sound. Heat flushes to your cheeks and clear your throat and lower your hand. “Ah, thanks Joel.” You just as awkwardly reply back as your own eyes take in his appearance.  

"You… Don’t look ready?" you ask Joel, your face twisting into confusion and the blush still evident on your face, creeping down your neck. It takes a moment for him to respond, as a warm feeling washes over him when he looks at you. He looks down and realises he’s still in his brown tee and sweatpants from when he woke up. He scratches the back of his head and looks back into his house for a moment, before looking back at you.

“Ah – no, but I can be in a moment." Joel invites you in, holding the door open for you to enter. You step into the house, and Joel follows, closing the door behind him. You look around the house, taking in his living space. It's not too spectacular, but it has a very homey feel to it.

"Of course Tommy gives you a big place," you comment, clearly impressed by Joel's living space. Walking into the living room, you take in the space and appreciate every detail, amazed at how big his place is. Joel notices this, and can't help but feel a bit chuffed at your reaction to his home.  

"I haven't really had the time to make it my own, and Ellie's, but it's real nice," Joel agrees, trying to downplay the lack of organisation in his home while also pointing out how nice the space is. You glance around at his home once again before settling onto his couch, waving him off when he attempts to excuse his lack of personal touch within the house. 

"Don't worry about that," you assure him, but he still feels a little self-conscious about the unkempt nature of his home. “Took me a while to collect things. Just go get ready, I’ll wait here.” You sink deeper into his couch as he smiles at your comfort level in his home, and he can't help but admire your ease at making yourself at home. He shakes his head and turns to get ready, trying to ignore the fact that he can't help but imagine what life would be like if you were permanently part of his life.

As he climbs up the stairs to his room, he grits his teeth and sighs, shaking his head and telling himself that he shouldn't be thinking like this. He really shouldn't be picturing you in his life like that, but for some reason, the thoughts continue to intrude on his mind. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to have another person around since Ellie wants to move into the garage, but that's not what he should be thinking about right now. 

No, he doesn’t want that, does he? 

Eventually, you and Joel make a trek through overgrown woods and grassy plains, arriving at the cabin after around an hour from the gates of Jackson. It's tranquil and quiet, the trees towering above you and birds chirping and singing around you both. Joel can't help but steal glances at you as you make it your goal to touch every tree you pass along the way, it is a rather adorable sight to behold. He's been to this cabin many times before alone, but now that you're with him, it just has a whole other aura to it. Feeling much more...calming.

You attempted to make small talk as you crossed a small stream, but you had caught him off guard and he grunted in response, which caused you to stop asking him any further questions. He was still not used to kindness and people in general, but he wishes he was. After that, you two walked in silence alongside each other while the birds chirped around you both in the distance, the quiet ambience of nature surrounding the area and making for a peaceful atmosphere. He had tried multiple times after that to bring up a conversation but the words caught in his throat. 

He watches you as your pace quickens as you spot the cabin in the distance. It looks the same as when he was here last, which is a good sign that no one had ventured past this area. The small flowers that litter the ground surrounding the cabin are all still standing tall and there are no footprints on the path that leads to the firepit to the right of the cabin. Joel takes note of this and feels more at ease about your safety and the safety of the cabin as a whole.

The surrounding trees provide shade and cast shadows from the old and non-functioning street lamps along the path. The sun that manages to break through the trees, sheds its light and warmth down on you as you ascend up the porch of the small wooden cabin. Joel is a few steps behind you, admiring you in your element and noticing how this is essentially your cabin. He too has noticed while in the past that no one else has signed the log book besides you and now him. The whole place has a feeling of emptiness around it, though he'd expect as much given how secluded this place is.

You turn around at the top of the stairs, smiling widely back at him with a very evident excitement to be back on patrol. “Come on, old man. Am I going to have to slow down for you the whole patrol?” You joke and he stops and places his hands on his hips and shakes his head and softly laughs. 

"Who are you calling old?" he retorts, trying to show a bit of feigned offence, before finally giving in and walking down the path towards you. You swing open the cabin door and disappear inside, and he lets out a sigh as a small smile appears on his face. 

This is going to be a long patrol. 

You set your backpack down on the floor behind the wooden frame of the couch as you take in the interior of the cabin. It’s almost the same as the last time you saw it, except more… tidy. The small dining table leaned against the back of the couch has been cleaned up, your pencils placed neatly into a cup. The usually messy couch covered in blankets and pillows, has been left bare. Said pillows and blankets are tucked neatly into a box besides the brick fireplace across from the couch. The chessboard that you were in the middle of a solo game is packed away neatly beside the armchair, beside the other side of the fireplace.

The little kitchen to your right is still the same, besides new fresh fruit and vegetables packed in bags between the fridge and the bed. The bed against the wall is also made, something you didn’t do. At the end of the bed are boxes and board games neatly organised into tubs. The set of shelves above the tubs has also been tidied.  

Joel has been busy. Probably just bored, actually. 

You smile to yourself as you step over to the log book on the shelf that's near the bed. You lean over the organised mess of board games and boxes piled up in plastic tubs at the end of the bed and take out the log book from the shelf, flipping through the pages of Joel’s previous entries.

It’s to be expected, the entries are short and to the point. 

All clear. 

Nothing to report.

Restocked food. 

Chopped firewood. 

Nothing to report.

Cleaned the cabin. 

Still cleaning the cabin…

4 Clickers on the other side of the river, taken care of. 

Raiders came, taken care of.

Stormed, stayed the night. Still cleaning the cabin…

Cabin needs coffee.  

You can't help but smirk as you read through Joel's last entry. Joel walks in and sets his bag down beside yours as you keep reading through his entries. “You cleaned up.” You state without looking up from the book. 

Joel’s footsteps come to a halt and you see him from the corner of your eye look around the studio cabin. “Oh, yeah. Hope that’s okay.”  

"There's coffee in the monopoly box by the way," you smirk up at him and he looks at you with a blank expression that seems to be a permanent fixture of his face. 

Joel blinks a few times before responding, looking down at the monopoly box behind you and raising an eyebrow in genuine curiosity as he asks, "Why is it in the monopoly box?" He looks back up at you, his blank expression unbroken but now with a hint of interest in his eyes.

"To keep people out of my stash, obviously," you state with no shame in your tone, which causes a small smile to appear on his face. "Alright, so how do you want to handle patrol?" You ask him, deciding to get straight to the point, walking over to the bags of fruit on the floor to grab an apple. You take a bite out of the apple and toss it in your hands, enjoying the taste of the delicious fruit. “Do you want to take one side while I check the other?” 

As you look up from the fruit and catch him staring at your face, you pause mid-bite and frown. You think that there must be something on your face that he's noticed, so you wipe your mouth with the back of your sleeve just to be sure after you take your bite. Juice from the apple covers your sleeve that must have dripped down your chin and you wipe your face again to make sure you’re clean. 

"Ah- I mean, um-" he begins, only to clear his throat before he continues and you freeze mid way through scrubbing your face. You almost want to laugh at the awkwardness that's filling the air, but you manage to hold it back.. "Not that I don't think you can do it by yourself, just that you haven't done patrol in a while," he quickly follows up, almost as if he's trying to assure you that he believes in your abilities. "So... want to do this patrol together?"

"Sure, we can," you reassure him with a soft smile, and you can see his face soften in response. "You can show me all the ways you messed up my cabin that way," you tease him, which causes him to narrow his eyes at you in mock indignation, though his slight smirk gives away that he's not actually mad in the slightest. You take another bite of your apple and walk out of the cabin ahead of him, knowing that he's close behind.

You continue down the porch stairs and settle down onto the dirt path that leads you away from the front of the cabin. Joel jogs to catch up to you after closing the cabin door and walks beside you, his pace matching yours perfectly. "Your cabin has been in great hands while you were out of action, if you must know," he replies with a smirk that shows he's truly not at all offended by your playful teasing. 

It's a calming sense of normalcy as the back and forth conversation goes from playful banter to genuine questions aimed at you and your past, though Joel still dodges any that are aimed at him. You had attempted to strike up a conversation with him on the way to the cabin this afternoon, only to be instantly silenced by his grunts and other closed-off responses. But now, at least he's asking you questions and showing a genuine interest in who you are and what you've experienced. 

At least it’s something , you think as you softly kick a rock on the path.    

He doesn't interject or interrupt as you lead the way throughout most of your patrol, stepping back a safe distance from the traps and ensuring that he doesn't set off any traps accidentally. He stands behind you, surveying the area with his hands gripping onto the strap of his rifle over his shoulder. He reminds you of Tommy like this, but more assertive.  

It's a rather mundane process, especially since you're used to doing this by yourself, but there's always a feeling of reassurance, when Joel sticks around and follows in your footsteps. Even if you settle into a silence as you work, you can still feel his presence nearby, which is a soothing feeling in its own way. 

Tommy's trust in Joel is enough to make you lower your guard around him, allowing you to turn your back on Joel as you work. You're accustomed to a life of distrust with everyone around you but Joel has become an exception in the last few weeks, someone you trust to have your back and keep you safe like his younger brother has over the years. 

You finish your patrol of the area as the sun begins to set and Joel heads into the cabin to fill out the logbook as you wander over to the lake in front of the cabin with your bag.  

As you lay in the grass beside the river, the sky begins to glow pink and paint a beautiful sight for you to see. The soft grass is gentle and calming under your body while the soothing sound of the river flowing by calms you down as you stare at the sky above. When you look to your side, your heart breaks slightly when you remember for a moment that Annabel isn't beside you like she used to be whenever you would lay beside the river and stare at the clouds. But then Joel settles beside you and lays down with a sigh, resting his head down on the soft grass.

You find yourself gazing at him for a few moments, unable to tear your eyes away from his peaceful state. The sunlight illuminates his tan skin, and the soft pink tones highlight the contours of his features and his patchy stubble as he admires the sky. That's when he turns his face to look over at you, his smile forming into a smirk as he catches you staring. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as your gaze stays locked with his for a few moments longer. 

"How about you come over for dinner with Ellie and I after we get back?" He asks you, and your heart flutters slightly when you notice the soft pout forming on his face awaiting your response.

Dinner, yeah, you can totally do dinner. 

You utter a soft "Dinner... sounds nice" in response, just loud enough for him to hear you, as you two now lay next to each other on the grass. The closeness between you two causes your heart to beat a bit too fast, and you're unsure whether or not he can hear just how fast it's beating from your soft reply. 

You notice that Joel's mouth twitches and his lips slightly part at your response, and you find yourself wanting to smile. The two of you proceed to look up at the sky and watch the clouds move by, though you still find yourself glancing at him from time to time. When you notice him looking back at you, your breath catches in your throat as his mouth opens slightly, his attention once more firmly rooted on you.

"We should probably head back." You whisper, now speaking just a bit louder so he can hear you, though his attention is still firmly fixed on you and your voice. 

"Yeah, we should," he answers back in a whisper, looking straight into your eyes as he does so. His gaze is unmoving, as though he has no intention of breaking eye contact any time soon.

And yet, neither of you move.

Before

Early Winter 2019

As your eyes flutter open, you find yourself in a field of flowers, surrounded by the warmth of a fire that is attempting to provide some heat to a body that has been left shivering from the colder weather. Burning fear settles over your body as you don’t hear either Tommy or Annabel. They had been bickering when you must have drifted off.

Your attention is immediately fixed on your niece as she shifts in her sleep and tugs on your jacket. The cuts on her lips from the other day remain red and sore, causing your heart to ache as you down at her. 

You close your eyes to try and keep yourself from showing any signs of pain as Annabel leans on your burnt shoulder. The pain is excruciating, but you don’t want to wake her from her slumber. She had been unable to sleep at all since you escaped the cult, afraid and scarred from the experience.  

Once you had found a river and cleaned all the blood that covered your body, Tommy was finally able to witness the full extent of your injuries. His face had been torn between rage and compassion as he saw the burns on your arms and the cuts on the side of your head, and he hesitantly reached out to touch them, but his touch was soft and gentle even in the midst of his own tears. You returned the hug, letting the tears flow freely, knowing that it was best not to hold back in this moment of vulnerability.

You were in pain, both emotionally and physically. You were exhausted. 

Your head turns to the side, allowing you to view Tommy's profile in the light of the soft fire while he lays down beside you. He carefully takes your hand in his and gently squeezes it, his apologetic smile conveying more than his words could ever hope to. "How you holding up?" he whispers, his gaze set on you rather than looking away. At the moment, he seems more concerned for your well being than his own. 

"I'm okay," you tell him, and in a way, it feels as though you're trying to convince yourself more than you are trying to convince him. He squeezes your hand again and you finally look back up at him, finding the warmth in his eyes even in the dim and soft lighting.

"How are you really holding up?" he asks a second time, causing you to pause and truly consider your answer. You don't want to lie to him, but you don't want to cause him any unnecessary worry either. You think about your feelings for a moment and decide to be honest, no matter how he reacts.

"Physically, I think I'm doing well enough for the time being..." you start to say, your reply beginning as a confident response but trailing off into a quiet murmur.

He nods and seems to accept your initial response, but then a small shiver runs up your body as you feel his thumb rub over the burn on your hand. You grimace slightly in discomfort, but don't pull your hand away. Instead, you allow him to keep rubbing the burn, letting him provide some physical comfort to a part of your body that still pains you.

“But, I don’t know who I was back there. I’ve killed a lot of people before but not like that. I’ve never hurt someone like that before. But he was going to kill you Tommy, I… I snapped. He… He was going to hurt you. I tried to calm down but it was too much. It broke me.” You confess and Tommy nods, his thumb continuing to sooth you as he rubs your hand.

“I can’t lose you Tommy.” You whisper, your voice breaking as tears threaten to fall. 

Tommy closes his eyes and exhales in relief as he turns to his side and wraps his arm around your middle, nestling his head beside your shoulder. He's found a more comfortable position in this moment, and your body relaxes a bit as all three of you lie together in the field. Your heart aches as you feel both Annabel’s and Tommy’s heartbeat within your arms, and a feeling of warmth and comfort spreads all throughout your body just from their combined presence. 

They’re alive . Alive because of you .  

“We’re going to be okay.” He whispers into your shoulder. “The three of us, we’re going to get through this. We’re going to get to Jackson and we’re going to leave this all behind us, yeah? We’re going to be safe. Annabel is going to help with gardening from all those plant and flower books she’s been reading. I’m going to help build things from what Joel has taught me and you’re going to help protect everyone. You may have snapped back there but they deserved worse than that. 

You’re a good person, Sunshine. I mean it. And the people at Jackson will see that too, they’ll see what Annabel and I see. And if they don’t I’ll show them how wrong they are. They’re going to love you, just like we do.”

Tears begin to fall down your face without warning, caught off guard by how comforting it is to lie here with Annabel and Tommy. Tommy's arm tightens around you and Annabel nestles in closer to your side, both of them providing you with comfort and a sense of warmth that warms your whole body. As you look down at Tommy, you realise that he, too, has tears streaming down his face, and your heart aches for him in that moment.

You sniffle, the tears falling more quickly as you find yourself unable to keep them contained now that Tommy has shed his own. "Do you really mean that?" you ask, your voice trembling as you hold back the sobs that threaten to overwhelm you. 

"Of course I do," he confesses between his sniffles, and your heart almost breaks when he reveals a piece of his heart while fighting back against his own tears. "You and Annabel are everything to me," he finishes in a whisper, causing a fresh wave of tears to sting your eyes as your own tears run freely down your cheeks.

"Fuck Tommy, If I could start over..." your voice cracks slightly as you try to fight back against the sobs, "I would suffer through everything all over again just to be here with you and Anna." You close your eyes and lean your forehead against Tommy's, who sighs softly into your touch. “If either of you died back there, I don’t know what I would have done.”

If you had your hands free, you would tangle your hands in his hair, soothing him as he does for you. But your right arm is trapped under Annabel while your left arm is trapped under Tommy as they lay on either side of you.  

“I know Sunshine, I know.” he hushes you with a gentle tone, calming the storm of emotions that rage inside you. As you open your eyes,  your expression softens as you look at him as a smile forms on his face before he continues. “Although if I were to do it all over again, I wouldn’t open that unlabeled can that turned out to be canned fish.” He jokes and you playfully push him off you.

Annabel shifts beside you and groans in her sleep at your movement. Tommy laughs softly as he sits up and wipes the tears from his face before leaning back on his arms, looking back down at you. 

“Yes you would. If you don’t, you’d still have that awful sweater,” Your reply earns a fake look of shock and feigned offence. 

“I loved that sweater.” He replies back honestly and you shake your head. 

You had told him not to open the unlabeled tin can that he found on the side of the road. He carried it with him for at least a mile before he opened it and instantly regretted it. The foul smell of rotten fish bursted into the air and assaulted your noses. The three of you had ended up throwing up from the stench and had to throw your clothes away as the smell clung to them. Tommy at the time had been wearing his Everything is Bigger in Texas sweater he found a few days back. He wasn’t going to take it with him, but once you voiced your dislike for the sweater, he didn’t take it off until the smell of rotten fish made him.

You playfully argue about the sweater until the time between responses grows longer and longer as you fight off sleep, too afraid about drifting off again and waking up alone. As your eyes begin to drift, his hand settles in your hair and gently detangles strands from each other.

“It’s okay, go to sleep. We’re not going anywhere.” He whispers and with that, you finally let yourself sleep.  

The three of you arrive in Jackson three days later, and you hope that Tommy was right. You hope this is a place the three of you can finally be safe.     

Chapter 8

Notes

a little break from the violence of TLOU, just some fluff.

Some more of Ellie and Joel, just Joel being a dad.

Also some of Joel's PTSD. Loud noses are scary.

Joel admiring you. I tried to keep it as less descriptive as I could, but it's hard. I just mentioned clothing, i tried.

I had so much fun writing this chapter omg. I like writing awkward Joel, it's fun.

Divider by the beautiful saradika

Cabin can be found below

[starstruckbyacomet]

There Is No Safe Word (Part 7 of 10)

(Source) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Prewarning)

Neil Gaiman's house. Photo: The Neil Gaiman Visual Bibliography.

Editor’s note: This story contains content that readers may find disturbing, including graphic allegations of sexual assault & child abuse.

In 2014, the cracks in Gaiman and Palmer’s marriage began to show to those around them. While they were at Bard, they decided to buy a house upstate. Palmer would have preferred to live in New York City, but Gaiman liked the woods. Eventually, he picked a sprawling estate set on 80 acres in Woodstock. It was Gaiman’s money, a friend who accompanied them on the house hunt says, “and he was going to have the say.”

Later that year, Palmer got pregnant. She and Gaiman were spending more time at home together and talked about slowing down and devoting their attention to their marriage. She wanted to close the relationship, and he agreed. But when she was eight months pregnant, Gaiman came to her with a problem: He had slept with a fan in her early 20s, taking her virginity. Now, Gaiman told her, the girl was “going crazy.” He promised to change, and they met with a couples counselor. Gaiman was prone to panic attacks and had never been in treatment. “Amanda was shocked at how traumatized Neil was, given his public persona and the guy she thought she’d married,” a person close to them says.

Caroline Wallner in the kitchen of Hotel Tivoli where the handmade dishes and cups she custom designed and fabricated for the establishment are stored. Photo: The Daily Gazette.

One of the people in whom Palmer confided about her marital issues at the time was Caroline Wallner, a potter who, along with her builder husband, Phillip, had been living on the Woodstock property and working as a caretaker. Gaiman had made them an offer that seemed too good to be true. They would build an addition on one of the cabins on the land at Gaiman’s expense, and in exchange, Gaiman would sell them a five-acre parcel, allowing them to put up a barn-style home to share with their three daughters. They tended to the garden, ran errands for guests, and rehabilitated the buildings, which needed plumbing and electrical work.

At lunch one day, Palmer told Wallner she hated living in the woods and was disturbed by what she was learning about her husband. “‘You have no idea the twisted, dark things that go on in that man’s head,’” Wallner recalls Palmer saying. Palmer said she wished her marriage were more like Wallner and Phillip’s, but their marriage of 11 years was falling apart, too. In 2017, Phillip moved out of their house. Wallner, 54, spent her days in bed crying and drinking. She stopped eating and, for the most part, stopped working. It was then that Gaiman began paying attention to her. He would bring juices up to her cabin and fret that she was losing too much weight. The first time he touched her, in December 2018, she was sitting on his couch next to him, crying from exhaustion. Gaiman told her, “You need a hug.” She stood and he hugged her, then slid his hands down her pants and into her underwear and squeezed her butt. She does not recall saying or doing anything in response. “I was stunned,” she says.

Neil Gaiman in his office. Photo: Weston Wells for Variety.

Over the next two years, they had a series of sexual encounters, always when Palmer was away. When Gaiman wasn’t around, they occasionally engaged in phone sex. At first Wallner, who hadn’t been with anyone since Phillip left, went along willingly. But at the end of their second encounter, she remembers asking Gaiman what Palmer would think about their romance: “He said, ‘Caroline, there is no romance.’” After that, she tried to keep her distance from him, darting away when she saw him on the estate. He was difficult to avoid. He kept an egg incubator in Wallner’s cabin and would come down and check on it, entering without texting first. On one of these visits, he found her crying by the fireplace. He walked over to her, stuck his thumb in her mouth, and twisted her nipples. She told Gaiman the arrangement was making her “feel bad.” She recalls him replying, “I don’t want you to feel bad.” But nothing changed. Wallner had no income at the time and was borrowing money from her sister to get by. She worried that if she didn’t appease Gaiman, he’d kick her out of her house and then she and her three daughters would have nowhere to go. “‘I like our trade,’” she remembers him saying. “‘You take care of me, and I’ll take care of you.’”

Sometimes she would babysit. Once, Wallner and the boy, then 4, fell asleep reading stories in Gaiman and Palmer’s bed. Wallner woke up when Gaiman returned home. He got into bed with his son in the middle, then reached across the child to grab Wallner’s hand and put it on his penis. She says she jumped out of the bed. “He didn’t have boundaries,” Wallner says. “I remember thinking that there was something really wrong with him.”

Caroline Wallner. Photo: Basilica Hudson.

In April 2021, Gaiman informed Wallner that the land he’d promised her was no longer available. That summer, she stopped responding to his attempts to engage in phone sex and Gaiman increased the pressure on her to leave his property. One night in December 2021, Gaiman’s business manager, Terry Bird, called Wallner and offered her $5,000 to move immediately if she’d sign a 16-page NDA agreeing to never discuss anything about her experience with Gaiman or Palmer or to take legal action against Gaiman. Wallner recalls saying to Bird, “What am I going to do with $5,000? I need therapy. This is maybe $300,000.” Looking back, she says she didn’t know how she came up with that number, but Gaiman agreed to it, and she signed. (Gaiman’s representatives say Wallner initiated the sexual encounters and deny that he engaged in any sexual activity with her in the presence of his son.)

Back to: Part 6, next: Part 8

[branmuffins22]

from this ask game

🧮 what are you working on? describe it in 20 words or less

🌅 do you typically known the ending to something before you start writing it?

🔚 have you ever completely changed the direction a piece was going?

📚 do you ever read similar works while writing, or do you intentionally not read them?

😊 say something nice about your writing

Thanks for the ask!

🧮 what are you working on? describe it in 20 words or less

Lots of Owl House stuff, mostly Vee-centric/adjacent fics, but also a canon rewrite and a Code Lyoko AU.

🌅 do you typically known the ending to something before you start writing it?

Ehhh, kindasorta? Yes and no? I usually try to get a rough idea of what the consequences of the story will be, like who ends up where and some of how they got there, but I rarely have it nailed down completely before I start. Gotta give the characters a chance to wander before I pin 'em. For instance, in The Disappearance of Masha DeLisle, I knew going in that it would end with Masha waking up on a beach in the Demon Realm, and with Vee isolating herself between her breakdown and the imminent shutdown; but I didn't know Vee would lock herself (and one of her cabinmates) in Cabin 7, and I didn't even consider the counselors' POV until I got there, despite that segment being the actual end of the fic.

🔚 have you ever completely changed the direction a piece was going?

Kinda, but not really? Not yet, anyways. Or, not that I can think of? Hm. Maybe I shouldn't be answering asks so close to bedtime... Two of my WIPs have been marked for major revision: one because I tried to do a little too much at once and didn't leave myself room to actually tell the story, and another because I realized an entirely different format could tell the story in a much more effective way. That said, I haven't actually started writing either of those revisions yet. Still in the most basic planning stages of "Here's how I should fix this." Either way, while the contents are changing, the stories themselves are fundamentally the same. So I guess, I've come across these obstacles on my way to those destinations, and I've picked out what detours to take, but I still haven't started moving from where I stopped.

📚 do you ever read similar works while writing, or do you intentionally not read them?

I read a bunch of similar works, since those are what scratch my itch, but perhaps predictably, nothing is quite exactly the way I'd do it. If nothing else, I like to collect relevant headcanons and such, like some sort of possum. I try to maintain a list of credits for where I got certain ideas from, but it's hard when I just spontaneously remember A Thing I'm Pretty Sure I Read In A Fic Somewhere and decide it's so compelling that I simply must include it. It once took me like a month of off-and-on searching to find the fic I got a certain spell idea from, and the search is over a year and still ongoing for the fic that cheekily described a giant Worm Off The String as one of the Boiling Isles most fearsome predators, that Luz and one of her friends encounter in the woods, having to stay perfectly still to avoid its detection/ire... Anyways, yeah. I read similar stuff. It's fun and inspiring!

😊 say something nice about your writing

ooooo, ur brain is sooo awesome. ur dedication to The Bit is exemplary, nobody is using literary devices as character gimmicks quite like u 😤

[unchartedstarsocs]

I have many counselors (all at the same camp), who do I choose-

I'm just gonna focus on the main one, Leo! He just started his first summer at Moon Trails camp (just a general summer camp, idk) and was not ready for the chaos two of his cabin members would cause.

I'm currently still working on his design and stuff, but his outfit looks similar to David's from Camp Camp.

which oc is a camp counselor? what kind of camp is it?

[just-norn-things]

7, 13 (hehe) and 16 for Rhianwen!

Thanks for the ask! Sorry this one took so long, it inspired a plot bunny and I had to run with it. Enjoy!

7. What was their first experience with other races?

Asura: Rhianwen's meeting of the Asura became a little ficlet, so it's posted here.

Charr: The first Charr she met was a Priory scholar that Trahearne introduced her to during an excursion to Orr. Still trying to find her way in the world, Rhianwen found herself sharing a meat skewer with this strange overgrown cat one evening around the campfire. Meat was new to her, and the burning sensation on her tongue newer still. It lit a fire in her chest, and from the way the heat from this creature's cuisine fed her magic, she could not help but feel very warm towards them indeed.

Human: Rhianwen finds humans...fragile. More flimsy than the Asura, even. Good clients though. Usually rich when they find her, willing to pay through the nose for anything and everything. They might find her services far cheaper if they were willing to get their hands dirty, but heiresses seeking to extend their youth and desperate wives yearning for a quick fix to their problems were not the type to do so.

Norn: The first Norn she encountered was a client, who wrote to her about her fertility struggles. As with any client, they were invited to her swamp for a consultation, to discuss expectations, finances and such, and Rhianwen was quite embarrassed to find that her furniture was very much not Norn-friendly, with the poor woman opting to sit outside rather than risk breaking the chairs in the cabin. Rhianwen is tall for a Sylvari, measuring in at around 7.5 feet, but she was still dwarfed by the woman who sought her aid.

Nevertheless, she was impressed by the strength and practicality of this giant of a woman, and considered patching a hole in her roof more than sufficient payment for her services.

Eight months later, the Norn returned with a swollen belly and her mate in tow, hefting an Elk so fat that Rhianwen's supplies were stocked for months.

13. How do they feel about death?

As a necromancer, as a reaper no less, Rhianwen considers death to be a state of being like any other. So many souls gently toe the line, teetering on the precipice of this world and the next, and her work as a midwife often sees her use her talents to pull a soul back from the brink, should they stray too close.

Some say that she herself has spent so long walking that tightrope that even other necromancers struggle to tell if she is one of the living, or merely a visitor from the mists.

16. Where were they when the call of Mordremoth struck?

Rhianwen is soundless, which thankfully dampened the call. She joined the Pact as a Pale Reaver at Trahearne's request, otherwise, she would not have been involved at all. Her connections to the spirits on other planes of reality made her maker merely another buzz in the sea of voices, though the closer they got to the final battle, the more she found comfort in retreating into her reaper's shroud due to the struggles of her peers.

[ellies-cycling-notes]

Day 15: Pittsburgh to Mill Creek

Distance Covered: 87.30 miles

Total Time (including rests): 8:24 (8:46am-5:10pm)

Time spent riding: 7:07

Average Speed: 12.3 mph

Apples Eaten: 3 (??? - 5.5/10, ??? - 7/10, fuji - 7.5/10)

Today's ride was pretty good. Not on the level of the GAP trail, but still better than most of the rest of my rides. It was close today, which was really nice as I didn't have to drink too much water and didn't get overheated. I actually only took 1 "real" stop on the ride, about 70 miles in. I stopped a couple of times before that for refilling water and such, but those stops were 5 minutes at most. I would have liked to go the entire ride without having to stop, but the last stretch was rather tiring so I had to take a break. The first part of the ride took me through several small townships and industrial regions in Pennsylvania. Then, once I crossed the Ohio River for the final time (my route actually had me take several bridges over the Ohio River and back to be able to stay on bike-friendly roads), I entered rural Ohio, which was mostly just flat stretches of road. There were some rather hilly parts, but most of the ride was flat, and even the hilly parts were better than the area around Philadelphia and Baltimore.

A Change in Approach

Now that I've gotten the overview of the ride out of the way, I'd like to address a change that will be happening to this blog. In short, I will be probably writing less, and about less consistent topics for the rest of the ride.

I have finally started to reach the point of mental exhaustion, and was barely able to think about anything other than just riding on today's journey. I was able to focus a lot more by not distracting myself with other thoughts, which is what led me to making rather good time. I still expect to write things as I think about them, and will still give a general overview of the ride, but the "Notes on the Ride" and "Design Notes" categories may not appear at all some days. For example, today I don't have any design notes to write about. I've been feeling overly stressed about making sure I have things to write about, and that's not why I started this blog at all. In fact, when I started this blog, I note that I might not even post every day. I've just gotten too wrapped up in my own perception of the blog, and I need to take a step back and use it in a less systematic manner. With that being said, today I do have some notes from the ride, so here they are:

Notes on the Ride

Bugs on clothes - it is not unusual for me to encounter bugs on my ride that slam into me. However, today had two interesting specimens that were rather different that the usual "fly hits the face". (1) a butterfly flew onto my shirt while I was riding, and latched on, staying attached for a good 2 miles or so before flying off again; (2) a wasp flew at my chest and actually went under my shirt. Luckily, it soon flew out and away from me, but it was quite a scare in the moment.

Industrial train area - the most annoying part of today's ride was only a little bit outside eof Pittsburgh, when my mapping took me on a route through an industrial train area, on rocky gravel paths right next to various traincars.

Water bottle - I got my water refilled by being given a bottle of water from a very kind couple who I encountered on side roads in rural Ohio.

Switched site at campground - I'll discuss the campground more in detail later on, but here I'll mention that, due to the storm, there was great damage to my campsite, so it had to get switched with another one.

Plastic log cabin - I saw a plastic log cabin in the yard of one of the houses I passed by. This wouldn't be interesting, except for the fact that I realized it was the exact same model cabin as the one my family had when I was a kid.

Campsite Issues

I just need to complain a bit here. Mill Creek is not the worst campground possible, but I was rather unlucky, in that the storm from yesterday knocked out the power in the camp, so they don't have running water or working bathrooms. It's a relief that I'm doing alright on water consumption and it's not too hot today, or I might've had to take my bike out for a ride to a store to buy bottled water. Part of me feels like I should've searched for other campsites nearby and gone to one of them instead, not caring about the reservation I made here. This does give me an excuse, though, to go to sleep early, because there's nothing like a shower or such to keep me awake.

That's all for today. No design notes today, a rather good ride but not so good campsite, and getting mentally tired. I'll probably start riding early tomorrow, riding through rural Ohio all day. Tomorrow's ride is supposed to be a similar distance to today's, but I hope it's flatter.

Previous -- Today's Pics -- Next

[neonmoonchild]

from the 'fifty questions for commander shepard' post here.

1. Why did Shepard enlist? Any regrets? ezi enlisted simply because being a marine is in her family, in her genes. she's never known a life that isn't military. it makes up a crucial part of who she is as a person, and she has no regrets about following in her parents’ footsteps. 

2. How does your Shepard feel about having a yeoman assigned to them in 2? And in 3? ezi doesn't ever really fully trust or warm to kelly chambers. kelly’s overt enthusiasm and overbearing behaviour always felt more insidious than good-natured. because of this experience, ezi initially doesn't warm to samantha traynor either — especially given their first interaction involved traynor letting herself into the captain’s cabin without knocking and interrupting a private conversation. but over time, ezi feels able to let her guard down and eventually the two have a fond and mutually-trusting friendship. 

3. What’s their relationship with Anderson? ezi wouldn't ever dare say it out loud, but she absolutely adores anderson, and has always seen him as a parental figure in her life. there isn't a human being alive she trusts more than him. she doesn't get teary-eyed often, but coming across the datapad audio of him singing her praises made her shed a tear or two. 

4. Is your Shepard any good at poker? absolutely not lmao. card games — or any games that involve sitting down and concentrating for a period of time, really — are not her forte. she's too restless for that.

5. How well does Shepard know their crew? Not just the companions, but the folks making up the Normandy? even back when she was just an xo on the sr1, ezi has always made a point of getting to know her crew well. growing up on starships while her parents served active duty meant she spent a significant amount of her childhood in close quarters with all sorts of crew members, and she learned firsthand how vital these people are to the successful running of a ship. they made her who she is today. she’ll always see herself as one of them.

6. Initial reaction to EDI? Does it change? ezi’s initial reaction to being introduced to edi is a hint of surprise with a boatload of mistrust. her prior experience with ai was the geth, after all. this mistrust dissipates naturally over time, especially once edi becomes unshackled following the collector’s attack on the normandy. eventually ezi comes to view edi as a friend, though admittedly it took her a long time to adjust to edi’s installation into dr eva’s platform. (unsurprising really, given ezi’s initial encounter with that platform on mars).

7. Does their love interest move into their quarters? during the events of mass effect 2, no. ezi’s fling with zaeed doesn't ever become serious enough for that, and her relationship with garrus is still very new and tentative when they part ways for her return to earth. 

during the events of mass effect 3, when garrus returns to life aboard the normandy, the transition is gradual, matching the pace of their deepening relationship. somewhere between the priority missions on rannoch and thessia is when ezi asks garrus if he wants to move into her quarters, pointing out that he's already spending the majority of his time there anyway — to which he accepts. 

8. What is their reaction to the Alchera mission? And after? (i’m going to assume by the alchera mission this means the mass effect 2 assignment to place a memorial/collect dog tags) 

the events of what down over alchera haunt ezi deeply, so the alliance’s request for her to go down to the planet to place a memorial and search for the lost crewmen initially sends her spiralling into a fit of rage and panic. 

because of this, it takes her some time to fully process the idea before she finally decides to actually go. rather than choosing to go alone, she invites garrus and tali with her, figuring that as former sr1 crew they also deserve the closure. the three of them manage to recover all the dog tags (as well as shepard’s old helmet) and hold a quiet memorial in front of the main body of the sr1 wreck, where they take some time to discuss old memories and lost friends. 

the experience, understandably, scars and hardens her. for a short time afterward she becomes more emotionally closed off than usual — ironically, it's during this time period she grows closer than ever to zaeed.

9. What type of fighter is your shepard? Do they fight with honor, or do they fight dirty? ezi fights dirty and she doesn't give a fuck about it lmao. 

10. Does Shepard keep any pets? The hamster, fish, something else? the hamster and fish, of course. she's always lamented not being able to bring urz the varren onto the normandy with her.

11. What order does Shepard pick up companions in me2? zaeed first, not by choice but because she literally bumps into him upon first arriving on omega. then it's mordin, figuring that they need him urgently for the seeker swarm countermeasures. then it's archangel garrus, because she's already at omega anyway. next is jack, reason being that another strong biotic on the team would be useful, then okeer grunt.

deciding she can't avoid visiting the citadel any longer, this is when she recruits kasumi. then it's on to help and recruit tali, then it's thane (the prospect of hiring an assassin makes ezi’s ears perk up with intrigue), samara and, finally, legion.

12. Does Shepard have any nicknames? What do they think of em? people usually call her either ezi or ez. she absolutely prefers these to her full first name. her late father used to call her lulu, which she used to cringe at but now she looks back at it with fondness.

13. How does your Shep react to teasing/ribbing? it depends on who's doing the teasing. if it's someone she's close to, she's fine with it, and usually gives as good as she gets. but she doesn't accept that kind of behaviour from just anyone — and boy, does she let someone know if they've gone too far. 

14. Any good at flirting? terrible, actually. merciless teasing and bullying is the only way she knows how to flirt. 

15. What colors does Shepard prefer for their armor? when ezi first joined the alliance she desperately wanted red armour, since it's her favourite colour. but at the time there were somewhat strict regulations on uniform, so she had to adhere to the classic gray onyx armour (she was really excited at the prospect of getting the red stripe and decal added when she became an n7). once she became a spectre and had access to better equipment, the colossus armour became her default choice.

during her time with cerberus she returned to wearing n7 armour, as a deliberate nod to her roots, but this time she had it customised into a dark red colour. later, she customised it further with a yellow stripe on her right shoulder guard and a blue one on her left — a nod to zaeed and garrus.

16. Is Shepard a drinker? History of other substances? Do they struggle with sobriety? ezi doesn't have any illegal drug use history, but during the events of mass effect 2 onwards she relies frequently on prescribed medication for chronic pain and sleep issues. she also drinks frequently — she can drink most of her friends under the table (and being a biotic means she's very rarely affected by hangovers)

17. How does Shepard react to attention? Do they enjoy it? ezi isn't the kind of person who goes looking for attention, but she also doesn't shy away if it finds her. she's never been a wallflower by any means. 

18. Who’s the dream team? Which companions does Shepard fight best with and why? during the events of mass effect 1, ezi’s go-to squad was typically garrus and wrex. during mass effect 2, it was garrus and zaeed. mass effect 3 shows the most variety in actual choice, but it's always garrus with someone.

as you can see, garrus is ezi’s common denominator — she's trusted him to watch her back since she first recruited him onto the sr1, and he's never disappointed. as a top notch sniper, his combat style perfectly compliments hers: he'll pick off targets from long range and watch ezi’s back while she's fighting up close and personal. 

19. Are there any companions your Shepard just absolutely cannot vibe with or relate to? ezi has always struggled to connect with liara on a deeper level, and doesn't consider her a close friend. ezi has a natural tendency to gravitate toward, and surround herself with, fellow soldiers and/or mercs and broken people, and liara just isn't that type of person (not even after becoming the shadow broker). ezi also feels a lingering sense of betrayal toward liara for the fact that she gave ezi's body to cerberus. (this feeling of betrayal, naturally, flares up again after the clone incident)

20. Does Shepard enjoy looking for resources and upgrading gear, or do they see it as a chore? ezi has always enjoyed this kind of thing, particularly when it comes to weaponry. it was something her father also enjoyed, and ezi has many fond memories of watching him swap out rifle parts and listening to him explain how it all worked. (it was also a source of bonding between her and zaeed in the early days of their friendship.)

21. Do you have any AUs for your Shepard? listed in depth here.

22. What’s the last thing Shepard ate before the final reaper showdown? james insisted on making his trademark huevos rancheros for everyone the morning before their return to earth, so that was pretty much it.

24. Who does Shepard turn to for advice? For comfort? Who do they like to gossip with? primarily ezi goes to garrus for all of these things — part and parcel of having a romantic partner who's also your best friend. however, when it comes to advice, ezi will also gravitate toward kaidan or cortez. they're the most level-headed of her friends and two of her most trusted confidants. she sees them both as the brothers she never had. 

also, during the events of mass effect 2, ezi would often go to zaeed for comfort — typically in the form of sparring, drinking heavily, sharing war stories and fucking. chaotic as it may sound, few people know how to soothe ezi’s restless soul better than the grumpy merc.

25. How emotionally articulate is your Shepard? Do they emote well? not particularly. ezi has a lot of unresolved trauma: she usually articulates it with fists or gunfire.

26. Does your Shepard have a romance? Who are they, and what drew Shep to them? ezi is in a long-term relationship with garrus. as far as she's concerned, he's the love of her life. what drew her to him initially was their like-mindedness, and that was the building block for their friendship on the sr1. they share the same humour and morals, and his loyalty has always been unmatched. he's given her a kind of stability she's never really known before.

it's been mentioned before, but ezi also had an on/off fling with zaeed during the events of mass effect 2. whilst the chemistry between them was palpable and glaringly obvious, there was a natural limit to the level of stability he could offer her as a romantic partner, and their intimacy fizzled out, though they managed to maintain their camaraderie and strong partnership on the battlefield. they care deeply for one another, and that they both see each other as ‘the one that got away’. oof.

27. Do they have any pet peeves? lying is a big one. false promises, too. ezi despises it when someone's words don't align with their actions.

28. What about hyperfixations? What’s the topic that will get Shepard rolling no matter the person or place? as mentioned earlier, ezi enjoys tinkering with weapon upgrades, and her knowledge of them is quite proficient.

29. How active is Shepard? Are they hitting the gym, playing sports, or do they prefer quieter downtime? ezi is fairly active — a necessity for someone who's as constantly restless as she is. she'll often be seen sparring on the normandy, whether it's with zaeed (during me2) or kaidan/james (me3). she's not a gym buff like vega, but she enjoys cardio and will often be seen going on daily runs whenever she's on shore leave.

30. What will always make them laugh? dirty jokes. she has a depraved sense of humour.

31. Who can always make them laugh? garrus, zaeed and jack know how to make her laugh better than anyone.

32. What do they do when they have hit their limit angry, just incandescent with rage? i think we all know the answer to this already. gunfire.

33. What skills do they have that are a surprise to the people around them? she has a surprisingly beautiful singing voice

34. Got any tattoos? she has a tiny, crooked, poorly drawn tattoo of a smiley face on her left hip. done by jack during one of their late night drinking sessions in jack’s engineering hidey hole. (garrus and zaeed both think it's hilarious)

35. Which companions have they lost? How do they cope with it? ashley on virmire, which was a big loss to ezi, as she had grown close to ash and considered her a friend. much like with the decision she made on torfan, ezi chose to temporarily harden herself to it for the sake of the cause, and grieved later.

then there was jacob during the suicide mission — whilst she wasn't particularly close to jacob she respected him as a fellow soldier, and losing him felt like she'd failed her entire squad.

people who don't know ezi privately and only know her by reputational force make the assumption that she's this ruthless hardass who willingly sends her men to their deaths, but that's not the case. she does what she has to do for the sake of the mission, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have a heart. she feels the losses, and they haunt her.

36. Do they like to style their hair, wear makeup and jewellery? How do they feel about getting dressed up? ezi isn't a huge makeup person — with the exception of eyeliner. it was something she started doing as a teenager and it stuck, and now she feels wrong if she's not wearing any.

she hates doing her hair, which is why she's spent most of her life with it in a short cropped style. she looks back at her post-lazarus days (where she had slightly longer shoulder-length hair) and cringes because she doesn't know how she stood it for so long.

she's never really been a dress-up kind of person as she prefers comfort over style, but she'll do dresses/skirts if absolutely necessary.

37. Got any bad habits? aside from the occasional excessive drinking and the penchant to destroy things when she's in a foul mood, no, not really.

38. Does Shepard do any activities with the companions and crew during downtime? being as restless as she always is, ezi always has to be doing something that keeps her brain from ticking over. she enjoys going out, but she doesn't always enjoy the attention she gets from being out — so on nights out she'll usually be found in dingy back alley bars that play loud music, or busy nightclubs where she can lose herself in the crowds and dim lighting. these kinds of nights are typically spent with those of her loved ones who also enjoy these things (usually jack and grunt. zaeed too, but he generally prefers bars/pubs to nightclubs). she spends an obscene amount of time at the armax arena, too.

occasionally she can be convinced to take a break and do something relaxed like curl up on the couch with dinner and a vid — these kinds of times are usually spent with garrus (when the pair of them aren't off doing something they're not supposed to), or kaidan, tali and steve.

39. Do they keep around any sentimental items? ezi has a photo of her and her father in a locket — she doesn't like to wear it during missions for fear of losing it, but she always keeps it safe with her personal belongings wherever she goes. (she thought she'd lost it for good after the sr1 attack, but then she found it by chance in the wreckage during the alchera crash site assignment. you can imagine how that went) 

she also has various sentimental items given to her by her crewmates and loved ones: 

• an elcor plushie gifted to her by zaeed (depending on the day and the mood he's in, if someone asks him about it, he'll either deny he gave it to her or he'll say “yeah, i did. and what? you got a problem with that?”)

• a kuwashii visor gifted to her by garrus (which she frequently uses on missions, and it's synced up to his own visor so they're able to monitor one another's life signs and kill counts when garrus wants to be petty about who the better shot is. she also carved his initials into the frame) 

• a coffee mug with the word 'sister' on it, gifted to her by kaidan. initially bought as a gag gift (she saw it in a citadel storefront, pointed out to him how cringe it was, and days later he brought it to her gift-wrapped), she actually secretly loves it and always uses it for her morning coffees.

40. Does your Shepard actually like to collect model ships? she does!

41. How is Shepard with a gun? What about hand to hand? despite being a talented biotic, she's also excellent at weapon combat, specialising in pistols and smgs. she's also highly competent at hand to hand, although occasionally vega gets in an impressive shot when they're sparring. (she won't admit that to him.)

42. Favorite weapon? pistol

43. Which version of the Normandy do they like best? ezi has some wonderful memories from serving on both. but she thinks the sr2 feels cosier, especially after the alliance retrofits.

44. Do they like to rotate out companions for quests? Who do they bring the most? this was kinda already answered in (18), but basically, it's a given that garrus will go with her everywhere. during her cerberus foray it was usually garrus and zaeed. and during the hunt for saren it was usually garrus and wrex.

45. Do they approve of curing the genophage? absolutely. despite her irascible nature, she's not the kind of person who leans into straight-up barbarism. she hates moral wrongs, and she believes the genophage was the biggest of them all. she also has a personal stake in it, since wrex is one of her closest friends.

46. Does Shepard allow the rachni to live in me1? yes, without question

47. Does Shepard practice any kind of self-care? honestly, not really. she's bad at taking care of herself. to her the idea of self-care is a drinking session with her friends or going somewhere where she can shoot off a few rounds. (sometimes she'll do both these things simultaneously. don't try this at home, kids.)

48. What abilities do they rely on the most in a fight? as a vanguard, ezi spends a good 90% of her in-combat time biotically charging across the field. garrus has occasionally joked that it's simply not a proper fight unless ezi is this constant beautiful blue blur in front of him (lmfao).

49. What is Shepard’s happy ending? What’s the dream that keeps em going? to see the people she loves most happy and at peace. she doesn't want much from life and she's kinda fatalistic about the idea of ever finding true peace herself, but she wants that for her loved ones.

50. Is your Shepard indoctrinated? no.

(+1: what does Shepard smell like?) cherry shower wash, coffee, and a mixture of sweat, gunpowder, and that trademark smoky eezo smell when she's been using her biotics.

[cabinrentalsok]

Things to Do in Broken Bow, OK for Families: Fun Activities for All Ages

A Perfect Family Getaway in Broken Bow, Oklahoma

Planning a family vacation that keeps everyone entertained—from toddlers to grandparents—can be challenging. Fortunately, Broken Bow, Oklahoma, is a fantastic destination for families looking to experience outdoor adventure, relaxation, and quality bonding time.

Surrounded by lush forests, scenic lakes, and exciting attractions, Broken Bow offers plenty of family-friendly activities, whether you love hiking, boating, wildlife encounters, or hands-on experiences. This guide will explore the best things to do in Broken Bow, OK, for families to ensure a memorable trip for all ages.

1. Explore Beavers Bend State Park

A trip to Broken Bow wouldn’t be complete without visiting Beavers Bend State Park, a natural paradise perfect for families who love the great outdoors.

Top Family-Friendly Activities in Beavers Bend:

✅ Hiking & Nature Walks – Trails like the Friends Trail Loop offer kid-friendly hiking paths with scenic views. ✅ Fishing & Boating – Rent a canoe or kayak and enjoy a relaxing day on the water. ✅ Picnic & Play Areas – Set up a family picnic by the river and let the kids explore the open green spaces.

This park is a must-visit for any family looking to connect with nature and enjoy fun outdoor activities together.

2. Enjoy a Day on Broken Bow Lake

For families who love water activities, Broken Bow Lake is a fantastic spot to swim, fish, and explore.

Water Activities the Whole Family Will Love:

🚤 Rent a Pontoon Boat – Cruise the lake at a relaxed pace, stopping for swimming and sightseeing. 🎣 Fishing Excursions – Teach the kids to fish in one of Oklahoma’s best bass-fishing lakes. 🏄 Kayaking & Paddleboarding – A great way to explore the lake while getting some exercise.

Whether you prefer a laid-back lake day or action-packed water sports, Broken Bow Lake has something for every family.

3. Go Horseback Riding Through the Forest

For a unique family bonding experience, try horseback riding through Broken Bow’s beautiful trails.

Best Places for Family Horseback Riding:

🏇 Riverman Trail Rides – Offers gentle horses and guides for all skill levels. 🏇 Glover River Trail Rides – Great for younger riders looking for a safe and fun experience.

This activity is perfect for kids and adults alike, allowing the whole family to enjoy scenic views and fresh air together.

4. Discover Wildlife at the Hochatown Petting Zoo

If you have animal lovers in your family, a trip to the Hochatown Petting Zoo is a must. Kids can interact with and learn about a variety of farm animals, exotic creatures, and reptiles.

🐐 Feed goats, llamas, and bunnies🦉 See owls, parrots, and other birds up close🐍 Hold a snake (if you're feeling brave!)

The petting zoo is a fun and educational experience that both kids and parents will enjoy.

5. Try Mini Golf and Go-Kart Racing in Hochatown

For thrilling, family-friendly fun, visit Hochatown’s entertainment spots featuring:

🎯 Mini-Golf Courses – Play a friendly round at places like Hochatown Amusements. 🏎 Go-Kart Racing – Speed through the tracks at Hochatown Racing Go-Karts.

These activities are great for kids, teens, and parents looking to add a little excitement to their trip.

6. Visit Local Wineries and Breweries (For Parents!)

While the kids enjoy playgrounds and open spaces, parents can take a break at local wineries and breweries.

Top Picks for Relaxing Drinks:

🍷 Girls Gone Wine – A fun, colorful winery with delicious wine selections. 🍺 Mountain Fork Brewery – Serves locally crafted beers with a kid-friendly atmosphere.

These spots are perfect for parents looking to unwind while still enjoying a family outing.

7. Find the Best Family-Friendly Cabins in Broken Bow

After a day of adventure, having a cozy and comfortable place to relax is essential. That’s where a Things to Do in Broken Bow can help!

Why Stay in a Family-Friendly Cabin?

✔ Spacious accommodations perfect for large families ✔ Kitchens for easy meal prep and home-cooked meals ✔ Game rooms, fire pits, and hot tubs for family bonding

A cabin rental ensures everyone has space to unwind while still staying close to all the best Broken Bow activities.

Plan Your Ultimate Family Getaway in Broken Bow

Broken Bow is a top destination for families looking for a mix of adventure, relaxation, and fun. From hiking and horseback riding to lake activities and wildlife encounters, there’s something for every age and interest.

Make your trip even easier by choosing the right accommodations with a trusted Things to Do in Broken Bow, ensuring your stay is as stress-free and enjoyable as possible.Start planning today and create unforgettable family memories in Broken Bow, Oklahoma!