#the moral of the story is i will gut you if i need to; i will carve my way out with only my teeth // mourndax headcanon.

[wildflowercryptid]

i imagine that florian is the one that gets to go to kitakami while juliana stays back at the academy, but he keeps her updated through texts like any good lil bro would. for example :

florian: hey

juliana: yeah? everything good on your trip so far?

florian:

juliana: KYS

[illithilit]

WHAT  COLOR  IS  YOUR  SOULMARK  ?

The color that fits Amis most is White.

Also known as the kinder soulcolor, people with white soulmarks are seen as innocent, childlike, and pure. Most people before they enter adolescence will glow white when around a soulmate, but they will grow out of it in their teen years. It’s the rarest color to have as an adult.

Many people who glow white are treated like children, so they present themselves in an adult like way. They are structured, focus on maturity, and distance themselves from things that bring them joy. They are least likely to share their interests around people they don’t know and are afraid of being patronized.

This type is highly intelligent and appears to prefer being single than in a relationship. They are often alone, preferring not to bog themselves with unnecessary drama, and have no patience for those who criticize them or their work.

Despite their tough exterior, these people are gentle souls. They often express their interests to a select few they trust, and they spend their time theorizing about or analyzing things they enjoy. They are studios and curious, especially when it comes to what makes things work, and have a childlike wonder to them despite being so adamant to present as a mature individual.

The color that fits Mourndax most is Gold.

Considered a lucky color to have, the gold soul color is never short of achieving their goals and prospering. Analytical, intelligent, and cunning, the gold soulcolor is alluring to even those who aren’t their soulmate. You either envy them or hate them, there is no in between, and they’re fine with that.

This color has expensive tastes and chooses to live in the world of high fashion. They aren’t shy about showing off their achievements and wealth, and they often lose themselves in materialistic things. Bigger and better is their motto.

Gold soulmarks can seem shallow and judgmental to those who don’t know them well. They’re not afraid to cut nuisance out of their life and don’t put up with different opinions than their own. They are known to indulge in self care often, and they avoid things that stress them out as much as possible.

Always knowing how to get what they want, the gold soul color surrounds themselves with people who are not going to stand in their way. They are usually surrounded by a small clique of people designed to lift their spirits with praise. They are also clingy to those who make them feel good, and they are known for bending for those they deem important.

The color that fits Eilistraee most is Red.

People with red soul colors are usually cheerful and active. They are optimistic and turn negative situations into a positive one. They are dreamers and visionaries, ready to aim high and achieve great things.

One thing this color is never short of is attention. Whether they’re actively seeking it out or getting it unknowingly, this color basks in the positive praise of others. Their charismatic and high energy personality draws people to them.

Often competitive, this color is always trying to outdo themselves. Perfection is a never ending goal, and they will constantly feel like they’re never doing enough. They’re always looking for new and exciting, often overlooking things that are a constant in their life and taking them for granted.

One thing that’s notable about this color is their explosive temper. Because they feel so deeply in what they do, they will often lash out when feeling threatened. They have a knack for saying things they don’t necessarily mean. However, it’s often short lived, as is their attention, and they will most likely forget about what angered them in the first place.​

The color that fits Blurg most is Pink.

Never short of affection, patience, or understanding, those with a pink soul color are energetic and respected. They are seen as nurturing individuals, and they attract many people who feel misguided in life. They tend to always find the good in every situation and inspire others to do the same.

Pink soulcolors are highly in tune with their emotions and the emotions of others. They believe all feelings should be acknowledged and dealt with in a healthy manner. They look out for those who don’t look out for themselves, often spreading themselves thin and crashing in the process.

While friendly, this color is introverted and shies away from social gatherings. However, it’s not uncommon for them to accompany a friend out into a social situation or be a wingman if needed. Their friend circle comes first and foremost, whether it be large or small, and they will attempt to make time for everyone even if they are spent.

This color is also drawn to doubt and question if they’re doing enough. They like to conform and know that they are accepted. This leads them to try and be something they’re not, and they often grow disappointed or disgusted with themselves should they deceive themselves and others for too long. They are also bad at keeping promises, setting goals they can’t achieve, and unintentionally disappointing those they wanted to impress.

The color that fits Vhaeraun most is Indigo.

Often mistaken for having a purple or blue glow, those who have indigo soulcolors are serious, confident, and strong willed. They know what they want to achieve and set out to do so. They are often introverted and seek balance, setting a strong moral code for themselves and others.

This type admires respect over adoration. They are often social advocates for those who need it and believe peace can only be achieved when everyone is working together, not just a powerful select few. This makes them powerful enemies but a powerful group of close friends, as their charismatic personality to do what’s right attracts people to them.

Since they are constantly trying to differentiate themselves from blue and violet soulcolors, indigo soulcolors are often less friendly and nurturing on the outside, but on the inside, they’re tender and supportive. They prefer to keep those who break their outer wall closer than most.

Due to their uncompromising sense of justice, the indigo soulcolor often starts arguments that might not need to be started, uprooting things just because they don’t like them or playing “devil’s advocate” when unnecessary. Despite telling others to get over it, they rarely ever do so and hold grudges for a long period of time.

[shawolsos]

If you ever feel like you were too harsh on that one toxic friend you cut off know that I felt the same way and that the person I cut off actually ended up proving me right themselves because they turned out to be racist, transphobic, homophobic, enbyphobic a little bit of a pick-me AND an anti-vaxxer

They also unironically listen to Nickelback which is nowhere near as bad as the other stuff but, I mean it hardly makes them look any better.

[hellfollowed]

tags!tags!tags!tags!

(' moral of the story is / i will gut you if i need to '] d.after

(' i spent so many years forgetting i had teeth too '] h.after

(' maybe if i am very careful nothing bad will happen again '] n.after

(' something very bad has happened / it always will '] y.after

[arolesbianism]

Also fun "hot" take if you aren't willing to rewrite or cut the racist shit in your writing then you're a shit writer. I do not care how much the plot depends on it. I do not care if it would mean rewriting huge chunks of the story. If you are incapable of cutting content that is genuinely harmful then maybe you shouldn't be writing this story. Or any tbh.

[tomicscomics]

08/16/2024

Our deacon shared this anecdote last week at Mass. It's a little different each time I hear it, but the moral is always the same.

___

JOKE-OGRAPHY:

1. This cartoon is based on a widespread but often mutated anecdote. There are lots of versions, so I'm not sure what the original story is (share it in the comments if you know), but the two versions I heard recently go thuswise:

(1) An atheist goes up to a Christian and says, "If I believed what you say you believe about Judgment Day and the fate of those who reject Christ, I would crawl across the world on broken glass, begging every single person to repent."

(2) A Catholic and a Protestant walk together, but as they pass a Catholic church, the Catholic bows and makes the Sign of the Cross, as a sign of respect for the Eucharist inside. His Protestant friend says, "If I believed what you say you believe about the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, I would crawl to that altar on my hands and knees."

(Breakdown) In every version of the story I've heard, there are two characters: a faithful person and an accuser of some kind. The faithful is usually doing some small gesture of their faith, which the accuser sees as insufficient for the level of belief the faithful claims to have. I want to clarify that no one expects for evangelists to walk on broken glass forever to preach to everyone in the entire world, or for Catholics to crawl up and worship at every tabernacle they pass on a drive. We're human, so we need to find ways to manifest worship or evangelism while also going about our normal healthy lives with each other. Sometimes those ways are imperfect and small, and that's okay, as long as we're really trying. The accuser's point is hyperbolic, but nonetheless poignant.

(Moral) No matter which version of the story you hear, I think the question it poses remains the same: "Is our faith more than just talk?" It's easy to say we believe in God, but what does that belief do? It's a monumental claim, isn't it? Maybe the MOST monumental claim you could make. It seems like it should have a monumental impact on EVERYTHING we do, but instead, life just kind of moves along. How can we dare to claim that we actually believe? What does believing even mean, if it doesn't manifest itself in more than our words? Big questions from such a small story.

2. Our deacon recited the Eucharist-version of this story last week at Mass, and it made me want to illustrate it. I'm sorry this cartoon isn't gut-bustingly hilarious. Here, let me make it up to you with a fun joke. Knock knock.

[kedsandtubesocks]

graveyard heart

Post Outbreak!Joel Miller (Hades) x F!Reader

summary: your mom, a FEDRA officer, warned you about the darkness lurking - it arrives as the underworld smuggling king and he is indeed dangerous (but oh so terrifyingly beautiful)

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark themes || dead dove: do not eat. loose retelling of the Hades & Persephone myth, canon divergent, kidnapping, hostage situation, enemies to lovers, age gap (reader’s age not mentioned but is a drinking adult & was a child on outbreak day), dubcon - power dynamics & possible stockholm syndrome, morally gray!Joel, controlling/complicated parental relationship, brief scenes of assault (not from Joel), canon typical violence (gun usage, blood, fights with infected, awful raiders and fireflies), discussion of grief/character deaths, angst with sexual tension, masturbation (f&m), smutty thoughts, finger sucking, cum eating, poetic allusions to smut, light spit kink, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel

word count: 11.6k (i’m sorry)

a/n: HI PLEASE READ & BE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS. This is my first stab at darker content for the fandom & I’m a bit nervous, i kindly ask that if this isn’t for you pls just keep scrolling - so i blame my 2014 8tracks hades & persephone playlist for this but here are are lol! this is my piece for @beskarandblasters the pedro pantheon challenge! also the biggest thank you to @pr0ximamidnight & @ahauntedcowboy for being the absolute angels & letting me scream about this lol, now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

(i)

You rarely go outside after curfew, much less to a gathering hosted by smugglers.

Boston had one of the most prolific and stubborn smuggling systems across all the quarantine zones, or so from what you’ve heard. Your mother and the other FEDRA officers had mentioned many times how, once the fireflies were extinguished, the smugglers were the next to go.

Especially the man in charge of the entire network.

Known as the most prolific and notorious smuggler, no FEDRA officer has even seen him.

The ruler of the smugglers, the king of the underworld.

Now, you’re here at a secret warehouse gathering apparently hosted by the illusive man.

It’s rather impressive. Outside is a large warehouse, decayed and ancient. Inside, the old office spaces were gutted out to create a new building. Commotion radiates from it.

The underground world was painted to be something out of a terrifying horror story. The parties had been urban legends whispered around the QZ. Your oldest friend had urged you to finally sneak away to one.

“This will be your fun night out to celebrate your new big adult job!” She had argued. “And besides, you need to live a little. Don’t worry about your mom, just enjoy having fun for once!”

Your mom. If she knew you were here she’d pop a blood vessel or worse.

But your friend is right. You want to experience more, don’t want to feel stuck under your mom’s watch forever.

Panic still crawls over you though, like at any minute your mother might walk in and scream your name catching you.

“Y’okay there?”

You didn’t realize you’d be dazed out for so long until a voice draws you out of your thoughts.

The accent is so strikingly thick, a drawl you don’t hear often. The man standing by the mixture of the homebrewed moonshine takes your breath away.

Ruggedly handsome, with a beautiful striking nose, older and wearing the lines of age gracefully with his gray hair, he seems brewed of something fierce and wildly beautiful.

You almost feel too stunned to talk, but manage to blurt out an apology.

“Yeah I’m good, just never seen a party like this.” You admit.

The man hums a bored sort of noise before he nudges towards the table.

“Want anything?” He offers, and nodding you tell him to surprise you.

Even with a scruffy glare on his face, the man’s eyebrows raise ever slightly, surprised.

The drink he hands you is harsh, stings your nose, isn’t anything like the liquor you’ve drank with your mom. You even cough at its harsh taste.

“Don’t tell me you never drank before.” The mystery man’s voice sounds offended.

“I’ve drank before.” You fire back. “Just never anything like this.”

The man’s dark rust colored eyes survey you, actually scan you up and down, making your skin tighten, feeling strangely judged and exposed.

He takes a sip of his own drink, yet his gaze continues watching you.

“So ya lost? Is that how you ended up here?” His words are simple, cold, and a frown tugs at your lips.

“My friend was invited, decided to tag along.” Your reply is blunt

“Your friend,” he nods. “And they’re where?”

Notorious for being a roamer, even when you were younger, you’re not surprised your friend wandered away for a moment.

“Guess just went to enjoy the rest of the party.”

“It ain’t a party.” The man says deep.

“There’s alcohol, people enjoying half ass drinking games, this looks like a party.” You shrug surprisingly braver. Guess the home brewed alcohol did that.

This mystery man’s face scrunches up, like he’s annoyed with you. He simply just takes another sip of his drink.

Apologizing low, you also thank him again for the drink and decide to exit. The man doesn’t stop you. Now you go looking for your friend peeking around the party. No sign of her.

Slightly worried, you check outside.

What you discover petrifies you on sight. Your best friend tries to leave from the shadow of the guy she’s talking to. Before she can leave, his hands grab her arms, a dark prison refusing to let her go. With full force he slams her against the wall. A small scream escapes her, and fear drowns her eyes while the guy grins demonically.

You rush over fast. All you have is the drink on hand, but once you’re close enough you slam the hard plastic right against the man’s face.

He screams in pain at the sudden attack.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” You scream not caring you’re being loud. You scurry to grab your friend quickly.

“You little fucking cunt!” The attacker roars and turns to you. Wild blood streams down his nose.

He swings his fist, and you try to escape the path of impact. But it still lands a solid hard hit against the side of your head. A scream comes from your friend and everything stings. You try remembering the self defense training your mom tried drilling into you.

Until a hard impact cracks in the air.

You blink into focus. Your assailant is now on the ground.

And the grumpy mystery man you met stands above with a bloody knuckle.

He’s the one who punched the guy.

“What the fuck man?! Fucking bitch hit me first!” The bastard on the floor screams.

“Get the fuck outta here. Or else.” The mystery man barks.

The guy on the floor’s eyes go wide, like he’s finally taking in the man above. Even in the dark, you witness terror rise fast across the guy’s face.

In a possessed panic, the assailant snaps up and simply leaves.

Your head throbs where the hit landed, yet your eyes stay stuck on the man who came to rescue you.

A soft voice suddenly eases in, and you’re met with a striking older woman.

“Come on, let’s get you both back inside.” Her name is Tess, and she holds a sharp grace to her as she guides everyone to the makeshift kitchen.

You want to help your best friend clean up, but Tess orders you to sit down and reassures she’ll take care of your friend in one of the bathrooms.

“You need to sit and get your head checked out.” Your friend tells you, worried.

Before you can even move to follow her and Tess, your scruffy savior waltzes in.

“Sit down.” He barks at you and moves to grab a cooled bottle to hold against your head.

You hiss when the cold glass touches your head.

“You smashed the shit outta that drink into that fucker’s nose.” The man begins with a gruff mutter. “Got a lot more fight in ya than y’look.”

You snort.

“I just acted fast that’s all…” you mumble back.

Turning to the man, you earnestly thank him. However, his deep eyes, almost the color of ancient rust, already stare at you. His gaze is intense, sharply piercing.

“So why do you guys even throw parties? Does your boss know it doesn’t seem safe.” You comment.

“Mainly to show off the products we got.” The man explains gruffly.

Made sense.

“Wait, is your hand okay?” You suddenly blurt out remembering the blood staining his knuckles.

“M’fine.” He answers and moves his hand away before you can try examining it.

Footsteps walk into the room, and Tess returns. Her eyes gleam soft.

“Your friend’s doing good, actually making jokes and everything.”

Relief floods in.

This may be the sign to head home. It would take a lot to sneak back to your best friends’ apartment, especially this late.

“Headin’ out?” The man asks when you return from checking in on your friend.

You nod weakly.

“Don’t. It’s late. Plus we got space in the back you two can crash in.” Tess reassures, and you graciously thank her.

“Don’t thank me, Joel was the one who offered.” She grins nudging the man.

Joel, his name - it’s beautiful.

Joel glares terrifyingly hard at her. Tess simply shrugs.

So you thank Joel, even use his name. This serious but stunning man doesn’t say anything and instead walks towards the other door.

“Come on.” He suddenly commands. You and your friend rapidly follow him.

Just as promised there are rooms safely tucked away. Though room is a gracious term with the stacks of various boxes and rusty cluttered furniture, but you won’t complain.

Joel says nothing, simply shows you the room then leaves.

“He’s weird as fuck.” Your friend whispers. You had to agree.

Even in this back room space the hum of the party continues to leak in. The lights from the hallway become a sliver under the door.

Soon enough boots thump outside the door, and your eyes creak open. From the light under the door a shadow moves. You’re worried for a moment until a darker shadow goes to rest against the door.

More footsteps, lighter ones, come.

“Gonna sit there all night? You’ll get a creak in your fucking neck.” Tess.

“Just get back to the party.” Joel.

His voice rumbles back, and you feel wide awake now.

He’a staying in front of the door, keeping watch.

You don’t know this man, just met him tonight. But you’re comforted knowing he’s here. Safety is hard to find in this world. Yet soft residuals of it seem to reside buried within Joel.

When you wake up however, he’s gone nowhere to be found.

On the walk home, your best friend is thankfully upbeat.

“You know,” she comments. “I’m actually kinda a little bummed we didn’t get to meet the scary head smuggler guy.”

You laugh, a dark humored type thing.

“Yeah me too, but after last night I’m kind of glad.” You agree.

You might not have met the infamous smuggler kingpin, but meeting Joel felt precious in its own strange way.

(ii)

You run into Joel again - literally bump into him.

Trying to put all the papers and books into your bag, you step outside the school and collide into a hard body. But instead of stumbling and falling back, firm hands steady you. All your items still drop.

Something fierce constricts your throat when you focus on who you ran into.

Joel, a very grouchy Joel.

You immediately ramble out a mess of apologies while you try picking up everything. Joel silently crouches down to help gather your fallen items.

“You’re a teacher.” He notes with a gruff low rumble.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just started this week…Someone’s gotta teach the kids what the water cycle is.” You joke.

He snorts very faintly, and your heart jumps.

The handsome man has been in your mind ever since the party. Now he’s materialized here.

Your mom calls your name walking out of the building.

In her commander FEDRA officer uniform, you hate more than ever that she’s wearing it.

“Who’s this?!” Her eyes immediately flicker suspiciously to Joel as she smiles politely.

“Someone I just ran into that’s all.” You quickly answer.

Rapidly you turn back to Joel and politely thank him again for helping pick up your scattered papers.

Joel statically nods. But you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow at your mom before he leaves.

Your mother doesn’t seem to pay him any mind, not bothered by a stranger. A very FEDRA Trait.

When your first late night working at the school comes, that has your mom worried.

“I can call in and walk you home once you’re done.” She urges.

You’re an adult. You’ve faced scarier things. After much persistence, thankfully your mother begrudgingly relents.

The sky looks beautiful when you step out of the building. You can’t see the stars often from here but still feel comforted seeing a few twinkles above.

“Keep staring off like that and you’re gonna bump into someone again.”

The familiar gruff voice jolts your heart into overdrive. When your focus whips back to earth, Joel stands a few steps away.

“Fancy running into you again.” You beam, feeling your heart flutter at the sight of him.

Joel shrugs. “My way back from work came this way again.”

“Mind some company?” He nudges his chin towards you and you quickly, embarrassingly fast, you welcome him to join you.

Joel falls into step besides you.

You ask about how his day went, and he shrugs simply saying it’s been fine.

“So, your mom’s a FEDRA officer.” He suddenly comments.

You had a feeling he’d mention it. You almost want to make a joke that she just stole the uniform. But it’s hard with how Joel’s gaze seems to simply pierce through whatever he sets his eyes onto.

“I promise,” you blurt. “I haven’t told her about the party or anything.”

Joel nods, silent again.

Abruptly he stops walking. You do as well. The soft evening lights color the streets a dingy muted gray. The curfew call would arrive soon. There’s already barely anyone on the street.

He sighs turning to you. That sword's sharp piercing gazes of his makes you worried.

“This is my stop here.” He nudges to the apartment complex across the street. “But can walk ya home, if you want.”

You exhale relieved, even find fondness sneaks in.

“Oh no, it’s okay, it’s late anyway.” You earnestly thank him.

Suddenly a hand swings across your face out from behind. A cloth covers your mouth. Before you can even scream your eyes flicker heavy.

Joel is the last blurred sight you see before darkness overcomes you.

Groggily opening your eyes, you’re now in a barren basement type room lying on a mattress on the floor. Immediately you spot Tess. Then you notice a man with a large rifle standing by the door.

“What the fuck happened?!” You scream.

“Hey, relax.” Tess says eased. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Nothing personal?! What the fuck do you do to me?! Why am I here?!”

Before she can answer you, Joel waltzes into the room. The room shadows paint him a terrifying creature who stares at you hard.

“Look,” Joel’s voice is cold, unwavering steel. “I’m gonna be straight with ya. We ain’t doing shit to you. Just need your mom to make FEDRA give us what we want.”

Your eyes go wide.

You’re being held as a hostage.

Before anything else can be said, another man steps in.

“Sorry boss, but we’re getting word there’s chatter on the coms.” The man explains to Joel.

He nods then glances over to you from his shoulder.

“Y’don’t do anything fucking stupid and we might all make it out of this alright.” That’s all Joel says then exits.

The man with the gun nods to him almost as a sign of respect.

Even though so many thoughts buzz around in your head like angry wasps, it clicks fast.

It’s Joel.

Joel is the infamous underworld smuggling king.

(iii)

The rest of the day is a blur. You’re left alone and cry into your hands until it hurts. The man with the gun standing guard outside your door doesn’t seem to care. Tess at one point returns with cleaner clothes, even offers you a shower and a meal, but you stay silent.

Some of the smugglers pop their head into your room, curious about the new hostage.

“Aw, you’re too pretty to cry.” One of them grins.

“Yeah there’s someone else I could give ya to cry about.” Another snickers disgustingly, and you want to crawl into yourself.

Joel barks a hard loud yell.

“Any of you fuckers so much as even looks in there again or even dares touch her, you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with me, understand?!” Joel commands, a god among chaos.

It’s not entirely comforting, but it’s enough.

Not a soul walks by your room after that.

Later that night Joel comes with rations and more water.

“Y’need to eat something.” He suggests. You don’t even move to touch the food.

Joel sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m doing this to find my brother, simple as that. Need FEDRA to give us a good car or even a battery at best to get us on the road.” Joel explains sharply, methodically.

All of this for his brother. The love of a family member in exchange for the love of another. You understand, even can sympathize, but you hated this still, hated him.

With thorny malice, you glare hard at Joel staying silent.

He frowns harder, and it highlights his wrinkles. Joel doesn’t say anything, simply clenches his jaw and leaves the room.

In the room’s solitude, you try formulating a plan. If you just get a gun you can maybe make your way out of this place.

Whatever this place is, it’s the central base. It’s hard not to listen to all the commotion and talk done in the other room. The smuggling empire is terrifyingly impressive. From what you’ve caught there’s multiple routes and tunnels that operate for different means. Some smuggle in necessities like food or medicine, while others provide arms.

Joel orders and strategizes it all. Tess is just as in charge and orders commands as well.

“You should eat.” Suddenly the guard on the other side of your open door suggests.

You’re almost tempted to throw the rations out the door.

A sudden explosion cracks above and the ground rattles. The air stills, and everything shifts.

“Fireflies!” Someone screams.

This is your chance. In the rush of the commotion and the echo of gunshots, you hope to escape.

You’re left alone.

This is it. Adrenaline pumps through you fast as you frantically search for an exit, a gun, anything. But the chaos swirls fast. More yelling arrives underground, and gunshots fire off closer.

But your legs start buckling, and your eyes start getting foggy too. Fear comes fast. Did they maybe drug you?

No. You just realize…you haven’t eaten this entire day.

Now it’s getting hard to walk.

Stumbling, barely keeping focus, you lean against the wall. Your body feels like it’s going to crumble.

“Oh, look what we have here.” Someone coos. A shadow soon falls over you. “Fuck didn’t know the smugglers had someone this cute.”

This can’t be happening.

Your lips tremble while fighting back tears, can’t even focus on who’s around you.

“Maybe we can keep her as a nice treat.” Another voice laughs, and your stomach feels sick.

A gunshot rings into the hallway. A body collides so hard and fast on the floor it makes your vision focus. Crimson spills onto the concrete. When you snap your focus aware another firefly man screams in anger until Joel takes him down with ease.

Disrobed relief spills into you. Joel’s here.

In this fucked up moment you’re about to cry grateful because he’s here.

But your vision blurs more, and your body feels light.

Then your world again goes dark.

Sunlight this time wakes you up.

Panic causes you to bolt up fast, but the dizziness hits you. Hissing, you steady yourself.

“Don’t get up too fast.” Joel’s dull voice speaks from the abyss.

You’re in a small apartment now, or the decaying barebones of one. In one small room is the kitchen and a living room. You rest on the couch while Joel sits at the table.

“What happened?” You ask with a croak.

Joel nudges to the small dusty coffee table where water and rations sit waiting for you.

This time you don’t hesitate to snag them.

Joel explains all that happened. The fireflies attacked the tunnels for supplies, and it spilled into the base.

“Used the underground tunnels to make it outside the QZ. Then, came here to a safe house.” He finishes.

“Where’s Tess?” You ask.

“Stayed back. Need someone to communicate to me how the deal’s going.” You suddenly notice the radio sitting on the countertop.

“So it’s just you and me.” You mutter.

“Un-fuckin’ fortunately.” Joel replies with a hard scowl.

Your mind tries to settle now.

You’re in a home in the middle of fuck knows where. Your hope of maybe escaping is not as bright as it was in the underground compound. So you steadily resolve yourself to accept this situation. Your mother will come. She will find a way to make the deal and you’ll be back home.

When you finally glance out the window you discover you’re on the outskirts of the QZ.

Infected roam here.

“Shouldn’t we head back into the QZ?” You ask worried.

“And have you turnin’ my fuckin’ ass in? No way in hell.” Joel glares at you.

“Infected are out here.” You snap fierce.

“And you got me. Won’t need to worry ‘bout ‘em.” He says simply.

It isn’t that reassuring, but you think of how he’s proven himself already to be rather sturdy even for his age.

“So are we just gonna wait until we hear something?”

“Yeah.” Joel answers with a deadly deadpan that refuses to leave room up for any discussion.

The space stays in a tense thickness until the radio flickers to life scaring the shit out of you.

Tess over the radio gives an update. Still no word from FEDRA. Instead she goes into discussing work with Joel.

They talk in code, use numbers and different colors to describe things. But at one point they let the code slip. You piece it together easily. They work with FEDRA officers to get certain supplies. You knew FEDRA wasn’t squeaky clean, even argued about it with your mom. But this just solidifies the murkiness of it all.

None of them have a car or battery to give.

Joel ends up falling asleep in the chair at the tabled hands crossed over his chest. You now snoop around the place quietly. There’s an extra backpack for you as well as various contraband items still waiting to be delivered.

You silently steal one of the liquor bottles and place it stealthily in your bag.

You also unpack what’s in the bag.

The change of clothes Tess had first offered you, a few rations, a flashlight. No weapon though. You do spot flint, and that’s slightly reassuring.

The sun starts to dwindle. You need to rest. It’s obvious you’re not going anywhere for a while. So returning to the couch you close your eyes.

Then the howl of a clicker wakes you.

Instinctual primordial terror has your eyes snapping open wide in fear. Before you can move, you discover Joel beside you. Even in the dark you see a finger raised up to his lips.

Keep quiet.

You nod, sealing your lips tight.

The ominous clicking noise rattle outside the hall. You almost miss it with how loudly your heart hammers in your ears. The infected’s chatter sounds fainter as it wanders down the hallway.

You exhale through your nose, hopeful this means the infected is close to maybe leaving.

Until the radio flickers to life blaring a tune.

Horror collides into you fast. The clicker roars. Joel acts immediately raising his gun to shoot the radio silent. But it’s too late. The infected screeches, rushing down the hallway with violent steps until it rams into the door with full force. You hold back a scream.

Joel fires at the door, and a loud thud follows.

“Come on!” he snaps, scrambling to get up.

More would come. You slide the backpack on, and instantly follow Joel in a frantic rush.

Heart racing, you stay close to Joel while the two of you rush to escape out of the apartment complex. Screeches of more infected approach.

The night is dark, but Joel is surprisingly keen in maneuvering the area. He leads you into another ransacked building and holds his hand up, a silent sign to stop.

You’d be stopping here. You’re glad. All of your body feels weak. You haven’t seen a clicker up close in years. Now fear eats away at the adrenaline.

“We’ll stay here until daybreak.” Joel speaks barely above a whisper. “Get rest while ya can.”

You’re afraid to sleep now. Don’t even want to think about it.

Suddenly he says your name.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it.

He stares somberly, seriously at you. Joel must have seen whatever fear ran across your face. You fully take in the sight of him. Standing tall, his strong rifle in hand, he’s the image of unwavering determination.

“Sleep, I’ll be up.” He orders.

The distrust you hold for his man slowly is ebbing away. You know he’s simply keeping you alive for the bargain, but it’s enough for now. So you sit on the ground, try to just close your eyes and gather yourself together.

Sunlight again wakes you, and Joel continues standing watch.

He glances back to you, and with his stoic stome nature, he nods.

Time to move.

The journey through the debris and fallen memories of Boston is quiet, tense. Joel stays closer to you the entire way.

“Have another safe house just outside the edges of the city limit. We’ll be safe there.” He mutters low and you nod.

The smuggler king leads confidently. Even though you’re still petrified of infected, you take in the sights of the city. The intricate green vines, the lush landscape among the bones of civilization, it’s all a haunting sight, but you also think of how beautiful it is.

“Y’ever been outside the QZ?” Joel suddenly speaks low.

“Once,” you tell him truthfully. You had been a child then and you barely remember the journey.

“So you’ve been in Boston this entire time?” Joel asks now, sounding curious.

You have. It’s why your mom has such a high ranking within FEDRA.

“Your accent…where are you originally from?” You decide to ask questions now too, keeping the same low tone as Joel.

A part of you assumes he won’t answer or will just respond sarcastically.

“Texas.”

You’re surprised he answered.

“You're a long way from home then.”

He hums a noise that sounds like he agrees.

“Must have been a journey to get you all the way to Boston.” You note, now more curious about him.

Joel stays quiet for a moment, then replies with the lowest ‘yeah’ effectively ending the conversation.

Soon the buildings fade away. The forest creeps in denser as the suburbs approach.

At the edge of the neighborhoods, a home sits splintered off inching into the woods. It seems like the perfect secluded safe house base.

The place hasn’t been touched in a while. Leaves scatter across the title floor, and dust covers so much. You’re thankful this has more space than the small apartment. Joel immediately slings his backpack off then opens a door leading down to a basement. You follow him.

“Don’t fuckin’ follow me.” He snips, yet you stay behind him. He doesn’t stop you.

Instead Joel flickers on many camping lanterns and illuminates the basement. The stockpile here is barren, hardly any weapons or canned goods. Of course a radio sits on the table. Joel flickers to life, but no one answers when he sends his Morse code clicks. His face grows dark with worry.

“Please get me if you hear anything from my mom.” You finally say quietly.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees somber.

It’s enough for now.

Two days pass. No sounds come from the radio. You and Joel walk around each other on egg shells and rarely speak. It’s suffocating. So you rummage around the house to find something to do, anything.

You find a deck of cards and it feels like a gift from above.

Quietly in the living room, you set up a lone game of solitaire on the coffee table. Or patience, as your mom loved to call it when she taught you how to play. Seems perfect to play now. You flip through the cards, placing them at the correct spots and columns.

“Solitaire?” Joel’s voice surprises you. But what shocks you even more is him moving to sit on the floor.

“You play?” You question.

“Not in a while, play other card games like poker or black jack.”

“I play blackjack.” You perk up, and Joel’s eyebrows rise slightly shocked.

You hand him the deck, cleaning up the rest of the cards and start a new game with him.

The game is tense at first, like you and him are still trying to navigate the thick tension. You peek at your cards and he glances at his.

He wins the first game, but now you’re determined.

Eventually you and him get sucked into playing. So many matches pass that when you win Joel pouts, throwing his cards down.

You burst out laughing. It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve laughed, and it’s freeing.

“You’re a sore loser.” You tease.

“I ain’t.” Joel rumbles back, scowling harder.

“Mhm, yeah sure. There’s a candyland box nearby I can get to prove you are.” You surprisingly joke, buoyant.

Joel shakes his head.

“I’ll show ya who’s a sore fuckin’ loser when I beat your ass at poker.”

“I don’t know how to play poker. Go Fish or nothing else.” You shrug.

Then, Joel snorts. It’s not a laugh, not even anything special, but it eases the strain among you and him even more. He starts shuffling the deck and hands out the cards to you.

With the most stern of voices, so seriously Joel, he asks if you have any sevens.

You laugh into your hand.

“I’m being fuckin’ serious!” He snaps.

You laugh even harder.

In this fucked up moment, in this murky situation, this brightens your soul.

A week passes.

Over the radio you hear Tess tell Joel flat out how heavy it’s gotten in the city.

“The fucking fireflies…FEDRA, everything, it’s gotten fucking insane… we might not get the car, or even the fucking battery Joel. We need to think of a plan b.”

Your stomach twists sick. Where was your mom? And what would happen if they decide you’re not worth the hassle anymore.

Shakily you head into the bathroom and sob into your hands trying to stay as quiet as you can.

Soon you’re a shell of yourself.

When you step back outside however, you’re resolved. Instead of the basement, Joel now waits in the kitchen, and his eyes widen seeing you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice picks up with a wind of worry.

“Joel.” You begin calmly and somber. “Be honest with me…”

You ask him the question that’s been haunting you.

What will become of you if FEDRA doesn’t hold up their bargain? If even your mom can’t follow through?

“Will…you get rid of me?” You speak soft, without even having to divulge more, but the festering rotting truth lies under your words.

The silence feels sharpened.

Joel quietly speaks first.

“No. Won’t do that to ya.” He mutters.

You don’t know if he’s lying or telling the truth.

You and Joel simply stare at each other. So much hangs tangled and barbed between you and him.

All you can do is simply nod. You swear his eyes soften for just a moment.

Another week passes. No signs or commotion from FEDRA. It’s beginning to feel like you’re in a room slowly filling with water, like you’re on borrowed time.

But you manage to pass the days with Joel through more card games. You try playing Pictionary with him, but his attempt at drawing a dog looks like a camel, and you laugh so hard at how badly he pouts.

It’s becoming amicable now, you and him.

But supplies are running low. Joel doesn’t sugar coat that harsh truth.

“There’s another stop we can go to from here, but I’m hoping we won’t need to.” He’s still waiting, hoping for FEDRA to answer.

Eventually the night settles in, and you’re surprised he joins you for another card game.

Right now you and him try another game of poker. You’ve come to learn you are not very good, which is also why you think Joel likes playing it knowing he wins.

“So how does a Texan far from home become the king of smugglers?” You try to ease the air by pushing more conversation with him.

“Just something that happened honestly,” Joel mutters, passing out the weathered cards.

“Got involved with my brother back when we started traveling outta Texas and just…never stopped.” He reveals.

“Your brother, he’s the one you’re looking for…” You remember.

“Yeah.” Joel agrees low.

“I hope you find him.” Gathering the cards dealt to you, you mean those words.

“Thanks…hope we can get ya back home.” A hint of sincerity leaks into Joel's voice and you appreciate that.

You’re about to deal your hand when rustling comes from outside. Glancing out the window, you try to find something among the dark shadows.

“What?” Joel asks fast and low.

“I don’t know… thought I heard something.” You mumble.

In that same breath, bullets fly through the window, shattering everything. The moment unfolds in a flurry of chaos.

“Raiders!” Joel shouts while you and him try to stay low. You crawl towards your bag.

The door gets kicked in and your heart races fast. Even as you and Joel scramble to maybe get down to the basement it's hard with the commotion rushing in.

Joel is swift with his gun, but the raiders keep coming.

Windows shatter further in the back of the house. They’re infesting. Time to leave. It’s a rapid rush to get outside. Before running into the woods, you stop to rummage in your bag finally remembering something important.

“The fuck are ya doing?!” Joel screams with a snarl.

You act fast. You rip a piece of your shirt edge, and grab the alcohol you stole along with the flint.

“Shit.” Joel breathes out realizing what you’re doing.

You’ve seen plenty of these, just never believed you’d ever make one.

Cloth in the liquid, Joel moves to help you light the flint.

Then when fire sparks catches onto the strip of clothing you stand up.

The adrenaline sets you ablaze. You throw the bottle with all your might. It manages to collide against the house’s porch. Soon the world is engulfed in a vibrant orange flame, a hellfire right before you.

Screams of raiders mix with the flames.

“Come on.” Joel urges and grabs your hand.

A rush of footsteps comes and it’s too late to react.

Something hard hits the side of your face. You cry in pain falling to the ground. The world spins on itself. Everything is disoriented. Your face throbs so bad, and you cough through the tears stinging your eyes. The sound of Joel firing off his gun again comes.

Then his hands steady you up.

“Y’okay darlin’?” He asks frantic and you nod, tired.

“Let’s go.” Joel grabs your hand again. This time don’t let it go.

Even arriving at the abandoned gas station deemed safe to stay, you don’t let his hand go. He doesn’t yell at you about it.

Instead Joel sits besides you, flush against your side.

Against the shadowed darkness of the old building, you hold his hand firm in his and he doesn’t let go either.

You wake up first this time and find your head slumped against Joel’s shoulder, resting against him now. His head also rests on top of yours.

This is new.

But then again, so was the term he used for you. You wonder if you just imagined it.

Unlike now, this is very real. You’ve never been this close to him, can smell the faintest traces of him, musky and dark. He snores. His hair tickles against your head, but you don’t want to move.

If anything you close your eyes again hoping for a few more minutes of peace. Joel eventually shifts, waking you both up. Nothing is said about the sleeping positions.

Then he turns to you, and his face falls.

Immediately Joel moves closer. Delicately one of his hands moves to your chin to examine your cheek.

“Does it hurt?” He asks gently and you shake your head.

Not as much. You know there’s probably an ugly bruise, but it could be worse. You’re grateful this is all you have.

“You should’ve seen the other guy.” You darkly joke.

Joel scoffs a small noise, maybe the echo of a laugh.

“So… Should I be worried about anything else you might’ve stolen?” His dry tone doesn’t sound upset.

You promise the bottle is all you took.

Joel hums, nodding.

“You continue to keep surprisin’ me.” His words are softer than he’s ever sounded

Now you realize, Joel is closer than ever before too. His face intensely scowled up now stares directly at you.

You drink in the sight of the king of the smugglers this close. The sun spots on his face, the age lines along his gorgeous features, it’s hard to deny how stunning he is.

After yesterday night it’s like you’re reminded raw and fierce how dangerous, but gorgeous of a man Joel is.

You think of the party you first met Joel. You remember thinking how you felt the remnants of safety, of protection that Joel showed then.

You should hate him. You wouldn’t be in these situations if it wasn’t for him. But when you ask yourself if you would rather be in the QZ, the truth is a distorted answer you might not be ready to face.

Without a word Joel whips around and moves to sling his backpack on better.

“Come on, let’s head out.” He announces.

You stay close to his side.

You expected another silent journey. However, the warmth of the day, the stretch of houses blurring more into the woods brings Joel out of his shell.

He talks about the Texas heat and how it used to be scorching. Interestingly points out different housing structures, and you learn he used to work as a contractor. Joel even asks about your job working at the school.

“It’s a job.” You say a bit standoffish.

“You don’t like it.” Joel sees right through you instantly.

“My mom likes it.” It’s safe, secure, stable and away from any harm and under the watch of FEDRA.

“What d’ya want to do then?” Joel asks surprisingly patient.

You pause momentarily, and the wind blows across your face.

It’s such a simple silly dream you hold in your heart…

Having your own house, enjoying peace, simply embracing living day to day without any worry about what to do or if your mom would approve.

“To simply be.” You answer. It’s enough for Joel, and you swear you see a faint grin tugging his lips.

The trail transforms into a serene sight, and you’re in awe of the beautiful landscape.

You should be scared that you’re walking away more and more from the QZ, even trusting Joel to follow him. But you’re not. The stretching trees untouched by the city, the edges of summer still peeking through the greenery, it's beautiful.

And getting hear Joel open up more, means more than you care to admit. He talks about this one mix up a couple of his guys made where they mistook baby milk formula powder for cocaine.

“Not Mister Scary Lord of the underworld getting upset over that.” You tease, and it almost feels like flirting.

Joel rolls his eyes. It adds a glowing playfulness to him, like seeing a small glimpse of the man he was before the world ended.

The further from the QZ you go, the deeper and deeper you’re drawn into this endless maze of a man that is Joel.

(iv)

You never believed a place like Bill and Frank’s existed.

Their own personal town is otherworldly. They, mainly Frank, welcome you with warm and glimmering hospitality. They’re both older, slightly around Joel’s age.

“So, what’s a lovely thing like you doing with Joel?” Frank asks jokingly.

“Oh, I’m just a hostage.” You sleepily grin. Frank’s face falls while Bill barks a laugh.

It’s easy to melt into this new world with these two and Joel. You never expected him to have friends like this, and it’s interesting uncovering more facets of him.

Bill barks for you not snoop, but Frank winks reassuringly to make yourself at home. The hot shower is an oasis, and the comfortable bed becomes a cloud.

Well rested, the next day you wander the town. You stay out until it’s dark. No infected, no raiders, no fireflies or no worries… just simply you and the beautiful night sky above.

“Still not payin’ attention to where you’re goin’.” Joel’s voice flutters in.

Along the side of the street he looks dreamy under the soft dark night.

“Can’t help it,” you truthfully say, glancing back up. The stars are too lovely not to admire.

You end up wandering closer to Joel or maybe he walks towards you. It’s too hard to tell.

“You can never see the stars this bright even at the QZ.” You return to admire the stars even with Joel besides you.

If your mom just knew how far you were.

Joel snorts, and you realize you spoke those words aloud. Even though you’re a bit embarrassed you simply shrug.

“It’s true.” You agree.

“Seems like she’s kinda…” Joel trails off.

“Controlling?” You finish, and he nods.

You understand why. She’s seen horrors, lost so much. But you’re an adult, a fully grown one and you’ve seen a fair share of hardships too. You just want to be understanding both to her, and to yourself.

You even explain this to Joel.

“You’re good, maybe too kind.” Joel mutters and you now intrigued turn to him. His eyes twinkle in the dark night more than they ever have. “Don’t seem to see the bad in people.”

Maybe you do. Maybe you understand that people in this world contain fuzzy and hard to decipher multitudes now.

Joel snorts when you tell him that.

“Y’know you’ve been traveling with a one of FEDRA’s top bad guys this whole entire time right?”

You know. Joel even calls himself a thief. But he doesn’t seem as evil as you believed him to be.

Glancing at him, the way the darkness should bring out his shadows. It instead illuminates him like a faint star. You think someone this man can’t be fully evil. Or maybe you’re not as good, blooming and unfolding in the mud to reveal your true nature.

You and Joel simply walk back to Bill and Frank’s in silence.

The radio also stays silent another week.

You’re worried about overstaying your welcome, especially with how hard Bill glares at you like you’re a pest. Frank however, eagerly includes you in so many of his projects and errands.

“Not as young as I used to be.” He teases while tending to one of the gardens, and you readily help as much as you can.

You stare in awe at all the beautiful lush vegetables and plants. There’s even a couple of fruit trees.

“Joel always asks for fruit when he comes for trades.” Frank chuckles.

You never would have expected Bill and Frank to be a part of Joel’s team.

“I know, we don’t seem like the type, or maybe I don’t seem like the type to be helping smugglers.” Frank comments teasing, as if he read your mind.

You quickly stammer out that you don’t mind.

“This world, it’s not as black and white as we think it is. Surviving an apocalypse really does paint everything in a murky gray. Sometimes, it’s okay to just accept that.” Frank explains.

You’re slowly starting to agree more and more with that.

“I know…there’s…a delicate situation going on between you and Joel.” Frank speaks cautiously.

“But I want you to know…that if this is serious, and you don’t feel comfortable with Joel or truly want to go return home, there’s ways we could figure it out.” His tone is serious, truthful and sincere.

His words warm you.

But you swallow hard. In the watch of the peaceful yard you reveal a shadowed truth that’s been building in you.

You don’t know if you want to go back. You know you will have to if FEDRA and your mom honor the trade. But you’re dreading returning to your life under the eyes of the decaying QZ streets, FEDRA, your mother…

And even if you do return there, you can’t imagine going without Joel.

“I just want to make sure he’s safe.” You add quietly.

“You probably think I sound awful or out of my mind.” Then you laugh hollow.

Frank doesn’t reply immediately. You wait for him to judge you.

“I don’t think that at all.” His hand gently pats yours. “I think you’re actually really brave being so honest.”

That brings a thickness in your throat. Frank grins warmly at you, squeezes your hand comfortingly. You soak up his kindness like a flower bud in the sunlight.

However, another day passes with no noise among the picturesque world.

At breakfast you try holding back your laughter while Bill and Frankie aruge over the Wizard of Oz.

Joel, who surprisingly slept in late, emerges to take a seat at the table.

Him and Bill immediately jump into discussion about smuggling routes and new supplies. Frank slowly slips out to the kitchen.

“What day is it?” Joel asks.

Bill simply tells it to Joel, but it’s like a switch is flipped on.

He shoots up out of his chair, doesn’t even care that it topples over or that he slams into the table knocking everything. Bill yells at him fiercely. But Joel storms out of the room leaving everyone in his aftermath.

“What happened?” Frank asks, emerging back into the dining room.

“Joel, being fucking Joel.” Bill sneers.

Frank ignores his husband and turns to you. Explaining what happened, his lovely face frowns instant.

“Oh…oh I forgot about today.” He mutters.

You ask what today means. Frank slides closer to you with his eyes low.

“If I remember right…Today’s Sarah’s birthday.” He answers.

Confusion bubbles up, and you ask who Sarah is.

Frank’s face contorts in shock.

“Sarah…she’s Joel’s daughter that passed away.”

Those words take your breath away and you feel your world tilt on its axis.

Joel was a dad. Joel had a daughter.

You never would have expected. Frank must see the look in your eyes now as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“He doesn’t talk about her much. It’s not your fault you didn’t know.”

You’re left haunted by it all though.

Eventually you get the confidence and bravery enough to find Joel.

Walking around the vacant neighbor, you eventually spot him sitting on the porch step of one of the homes.

“Fuck you doin’ here?” He snaps, but there’s no malice in his voice, only a hollowness.

Standing besides him, you inhale deep.

“My big sister was infected on outbreak day.” You begin.

It happened after school when your mom was talking with your neighbor outside your home. You were still so little, barely remember pieces of it.

But the memories you have are sharp.

You’re in the kitchen, laughing at something your sister says. Suddenly she starts twitching. Then your world ended. You still hear her snarls sometimes, still taste the terror when she tried biting you and how you prayed it was just a game, until the screams of your mom came. It’s simply been you and her ever since.

Joel’s face finally turns to you and his eyes are wide, glossy obsidian gems and so open, so unlike Joel. Yet it’s like you’re seeing a true layer of him.

“I’m so sorry about your daughter Joel. That pain of loss never really leaves and I get it.” You carry your big sister’s ghost with you now.

Joel doesn’t say anything, instead clenches his jaw and blinks away the shimmering gloss reflecting in his eyes.

“It ain’t the same.” He suddenly snaps back. “You never felt the pain of losin’ a child.”

You feel insulted.

“Loss is still a loss Joel. Don’t you dare say my hurt is less than yours. What would your daughter say?” You snap back.

You know that’s not a kind thing to say. It galvanizes Joel. He bolts up and becomes a terrifying looming force that pierces you where you stand.

His voice silence is deadly, slices through you.

There’s so much you want to say to hurt him, but what good will it do. You simply blink away tears and walk away, leaving Joel to his ache as you try to quell yours.

Trying to settle your emotions, you end up walking around the ghost town and spot various glorious wildflowers, blooms so vibrantly colorful. You grab as many as you can.

Back at the house, Frank brightens immediately seeing the flowers in your hands.

“I got just the vase for them!”

Frank asks if you picked these for yourself and you shake your head.

“For those who have passed, and for Sarah.” Your answer.

Frank doesn’t say anything but instead nods, a silent understanding.

You head back to the guest room to try taking a nap. You accidentally left the door open partially, and soon enough Joel’s arrival lumbers into the grand home.

“Bill get those for you?” He notices the flowers.

Frank snorts. “You know Bill wouldn’t.”

He instead clarifies you did.

“For today…for Sarah.” Frank then adds.

Joel is quiet. You close your eyes and now drift into the flickering world between falling asleep and being aware.

You swear you faintly hear the door creak open more, catch the faint smell of cedar, and feel delicate but callous fingers run across your face.

But when you open your eyes, no one is in the room.

It’s like nothing happened between you or Joel the next morning. He even helps you and Frank outside harvesting some of the ripe new fruit.

“Can't handle Bill’s grumpy ass anymore.” Joel explains.

“Two grumpies together might just be too much.” You tease. Joel glares dully at you. Frank snickers amused.

You perk up bright seeing the lovely apples on the tree.

“Go ahead! Try one!” Frank eagerly urges and you do.

You haven’t had fresh apples in years. Your eyes close in bliss tasting sweet heaven and you munch away.

Suddenly a thick thumb runs against your cheek and your eyes snap open.

“Sorry. Got some on your cheek.” Joel clarifies drawing his hand away.

He suddenly draws it into his mouth to have a taste. You feel a bit dizzy but in a way that makes your stomach flip.

Joel’s eyes go wide, momentarily realizing what he did. Without another word, he bolts.

You and Frank are left staring at each other stunned.

The rest of the day Joel stays glued to the radio in Bill’s workshop.

Later that night your fingers crawl silently under the sheets, under your underwear, and you imagine what Joel would feel like. This man that’s taken you away from your home - you should feel guilty and ashamed, even horrified at this. But instead you only find an ache for more for his fingers to replace yours.

But even among the decadent desires you indulge in more and more…

Another week passes.

You and Joel share a somberness, slowly facing the harsh truth.

You may not be returning home.

“I want us to have a nice dinner tonight!” Frank must sense it too because he declares a bright order.

“So that means new outfits and everyone taking a good shower!” Frank insists proudly showing you to the clothing boutique the town has.

You end up grabbing the softest looking sundress. It’s delicate, fits comfortably on you and even makes you feel brand new.

Especially after taking another warm shower with the homemade lavender soap Frank gave you as another gift. Bill seems to be warming up to you. He even makes a dull joke about you taking a shorter shower than Joel.

When Joel does emerge from the shower, something shifts in you. His wet slicked back hair highlights all his silver streaks. In the new button up shirt Frank shoved at him and ordered him to wear, he’s gorgeous.

The terrifying ruler of a smuggling empire, now just a man who seems almost embarrassed, fidgets because you stare at him so directly.

Dinner is thankfully wonderful.

At some point you realize the role of hostage, of someone kidnapped, doesn’t feel so barbed. You now roam freely without any fear. Laugh warmly at the stories Frank tells that makes Bill scoff and Joel roll his eyes.

You insist on cleaning up to let Bill and Frank enjoy the nice evening to themselves.

In the kitchen you gather the plates until the door creaks open behind.

“Needed to get away from Bill’s god damn glarin’ st me being the third wheel.” Joel huffs.

Smirking, you find Joel effortlessly begins putting away dishes, helping.

It’s peaceful. In another life you wonder if this could have been a regular evening, in a house you owned…with someone you cared for.

Someone who you hate looks eerily like Joel.

You shift to go grab something just as he moves, and the two of you gently collide. It’s nothing extreme, but Joel’s hand moves to steady you against your lower back.

“Sorry.” He mutters, and your eyes flicker to him. He’s close again. So close you can almost smell the rosemary and pine soap among a scent so deeply Joel. He doesn't move yet. Neither do you.

That’s when you catch it, Joel’s deep rust eyes glance away from your gaze and towards your lips.

You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, or have something on your face. But his hand against your back feels warm, steady, like you never want it to leave. His face ever so slightly begins to pull closer towards you.

You don’t want this to stop.

But Bills footsteps clamor to the kitchen. It electrifies both you and Joel causing him to scurry out of the kitchen.

That night you’re unable to sleep.

Frank always offered his collection of books for you to browse through. You decide to glance around and hope something sparks your interest.

That’s when a muffled groan floats out into the hallway.

Curiosity and a hint of worry has you walking back towards the rooms.

A choked out sigh comes from Joel’s room and the world melts away.

You need to go back to your room, even head back to the living room.

But you instead lean closer and find the door is slightly cracked like Joel thought he closed it but didn’t.

You faintly hear it, the sound of him jerking off. His soft sighs, his hand rubbing out his cock, it makes your mouth dry and water at the same time.

You’re no better than a creepy pervert, but you can’t help it.

Joel’s hand speeds up faster and now your wet core begs for attention already.

Then his climax hits with a deep loud groan, and it’s delicious.

You shift trying to quell the heat crawling all over your body.

But Joel sighs.

And he says your name.

It’s clear, steals your breath.

Maybe it’s been this recent journey that’s reminded you how short this life is… but whatever galvanized energy it is, it surges through you to move and push into Joel’s room.

Oh he’s a sight.

Your mouth waters seeing his cock, thick, beautiful and messy before it’s covered by the blanket.

Joel scrambles up petrified. “What the fuck y’doing here?!”

“You said my name,” you whisper slowly creeping towards him while shutting the door behind you.

“You’re hearin’ shit.” He barks low, angry and harsh.

You swallow hard.

“I think about you too… whenever I touch myself.” You admit barely above a whisper.

Joel’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline, but immediately he coughs as if he got punched.

“Go back to your room.” He urges, but it’s not persistent. You shake your head no, and now arrive against the side of his bed.

“We… you…this shouldn’t be happenin’.” He urges.

“You say you’re a thief, that you’re the bad guy here,” you mutter posessed. “Maybe I am too.”

“Darlin’” Joel breathes out that sacred term, the one you’ve prayed to hear again.

Confidence surges through you more toxic than any other poison.

“Maybe I wanna take for once,” you whisper, moving onto the bed. Your eyes glance to the wet white sticky mess against Joel’s stomach and his hand that he didn’t cover.

Your mouth aches to taste him.

So flickering your gaze to Joel, it’s a cautious moment and what you’re about to do can fall apart in a minute. But your hand moves delicately, cautious. Your eyes stay on Joel, waiting for him to tell you no or react.

But he doesn’t.

You grab his cum covered hand still keeping your eyes on him. Until you glance down at his hand, his calloused beautiful large hand.

He still hasn’t pulled away or made a noise to stop you.

Tentatively you lick up his fingers, tasting his release.

“Fuck!” Joel barks out a harsh hiss.

You’re worried he’s going to yank his hand away, but he doesn’t. He instead sits up more like he’s been electrocuted.

It’s enough to let you indulge now.

So you draw his fingers into your mouth.

They’re so large. The salty taste of his cum and the taste of his skin on your tongue makes your eyes close as you clean his fingers.

“Fuckin’ shit, baby.” You want to hear him say those words over and over, want to cherish how wrecked his voice breaks.

Now, very slowly, Joel’s fingers move in your mouth and you moan. He traces your teeth, drags the meat of his fingers across your tongue and plunges deeper into your mouth.

Your eyes roll back, and on instinct you start sucking.

“Yeah darlin’ yeah.” Joe whispers hoarsely, and you want to get drunk on him.

Steady, his fingers plunge in and out, fucking your mouth as you become putty in his hold. His other hand now runs up your thigh, under the edge of your dress.

“Want you so bad Joel.” Even with his fingers in your mouth you whimper out those words maybe mainly to yourself, maybe thinking this is just a dream.

But the way Joel surges up, yanks his hand out of your mouth to clutch your face, and he kisses you like a parched man…

This feels too good to be a dream.

You melt into it, into Joel, greedily stealing all he gives you. Just as you welcome him to steal all he wants from you, and you readily give him everything. No worries about anything else, it’s simply you and him.

When Joel slides into you, deep and wide, when his breath tickles the heat of your skin, you taste the essence of him all around - the world feels reborn.

Joel however, is slightly more reluctant.

“M’too old for you.” He argues after the second night you crawl into his room.

“You think I care?” I simply say running your fingers against his warm chest.

“You should.”

Well you don’t and you tell him that.

Then the dark doubt creeps in.

Because there are other things you should care about.

“Are you doing this…”

Just to be cruel, to maybe even control you.

Joel sits up holding your hand against his chest. Your eyes met his. There’s steeled sincerity in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“No… hate that I wanted you from the start, before all this.” At the party. That feels like ages ago.

You can’t help but ask him why, why you.

He sighs, and his thumb strokes your hand.

“Saw you when ya first walked in. You laughed at something your friend said. It was so loud, so fuckin’ genuine.”

You’re about to apologize, embarrassed, at how loud you laugh until Joel continues.

“Knew you were something fierce, something beautiful. I was gone the minute you smashed that god damn drink in that guy's face.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else. So much clouds the room and it feels thick, but it’s like the thickness of a misty morning fog you want to get lost in. You kiss him tenderly, as if you have all the time in the world.

After this a new shift comes between you and Joel. His hands always seem to be on you, gently touching your arm or grazing past you closer. After your nights with him, hickies paint your thighs and you admire them in the morning.

In the dark, Joel tells you more about Tommy, about the plan he has for finding his brother. Even sometimes he reveals bits and pieces about Sarah.

You soak in every moment you can with him. Joel even stays a full day away from the radio helping Bill renovating one of the sheds. It’s a gift watching Joel work with his hands and tools, like watching the shadow of a past still existing in him.

Your heart becomes a treasure chest holding all these moments.

But something darker still rots in you.

FEDRA still remains silent.

(v)

Summer winds down. Cooler air settles in the town, and you happily enjoy sitting on the porch more and more.

You’d been eyeing the pomegranate for a few days. Now after Frank happily told you to enjoy, you excitedly and greedily cut into it. Joel even showed you how to earlier.

Currently you sit on the porch enjoying the soft breeze. Frank sits besides you watching Bill work on a project. You laugh at how affectionate the two are even while bickering.

Scooping out a couple of the pomegranate seeds, their beautiful ruby color stains your finger. They taste of a sweetness you never want to leave. Boots approach from behind.

“Joel! Come, sit. Enjoy the nice early autumn weather.” Frank calls and you turn to grin at him.

“FEDRA finally got in contact.” Joel’s words pop the air.

Everything stills.

When you turn towards Joel, the somber stare on his face already reveals the answer.

FEDRA denied the exchange.

The rest of the pomegranate sits uneaten on the porch.

You sit in Joel’s room quietly for what feels like years. The tears don’t even come anymore.

“She can stay here! She’d be a welcomed addition” Frank urges from the living room. “We’ve appreciated all the extra help around here.”

“No. Take her back.” Bill interjects flat.

Frank shushes his husband.

The conversation becomes low, muffled, and you’re too tired to even try and listen. You instead curl into Joel’s pillow, and let sleep take you.

A callous hand gently stroking your cheeks wakes you. The low early evening light bathes Joel glorious, and you faintly smell wine Joel must have had.

“You gonna get rid of me now?” You mumble hollow.

Joel shakes his head no.

“Too late for that.” He says with the faintest hint of a crooked grin. “Told ya, I’m head smuggler for a fuckin’ reason, like to keep what’s mine close.”

You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. But the tears manage to return.

“What’s gonna happen now?” While you ask, your voice breaks.

Joel exhales.

“Don’t know.” He says truthfully.

You’re grateful he’s being honest. Joel’s dark autumn eyes glance away.

“I know we’ll manage, find a car, get Tommy.” He nods to himself.

“But…” he adds with his voice trailing off.

“Don’t wanna think about you leaving,” Joel admits with the lowest rumble.

“Can’t fuckin’ handle it… thinkin’ about not knowin’ how you’re doing, not seeing you…” he shakes his head.

“It’s fuck up. I know it’s god damn fucked up... If you want me to take you back to the QZ, I’ll do it. If you wanna just stay here, I’d let ya.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, almost debris filled with so many emotions begging to get out.

You slide your hands around him, and he draws you closer. The world might be crumbling again all around you, but he feels like a steady rock amongst it all.

“I don’t wanna leave, don’t wanna leave you.” You whimper out the truth.

Joel holds you tighter into his strong warm embrace.

That night you fuck Joel like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him, and a grim darkness seeping in your mind whispers it might be.

You want every piece of him. So when you open your mouth wide, without any question, Joel runs his thumb across your bottom lip and spits into your mouth. You greedily swallow.

What surprises you is when you’re seated in Joel’s lap, slowly grinding up and down on his thick cock, he weakly opens his mouth as well.

Tenderly stroking his cheek, you gently lean down and let the spit drip from your mouth into his. You feel drunk watching Joel’s eyes roll back as he swallows.

Instead of feral roughness, or a devouring passion, it’s tender, makes your heart swell. Joel’s hands map you out like you’re a cherished rare gem.

In his arms, in the quiet stillness of the room, your heart begs for weeds to start growing around you.

(vi)

From a glance out the window, the pumpkins seem to be flourishing beautifully. They’re your first big vegetables you’re growing, with Bill’s supervision of course. But you’re proud of the progress nonetheless.

You’re finishing cleaning the last bit of dishes from breakfast when a sturdy arm slides around you from behind.

For someone so grumpy, Joel is surprisingly and secretly a cuddly creature. His wonderful nose burrows into the side of your face.

“Wanna work on the kitchen today,” he mutters.

The old house across the street from Bill and Frank’s has become the new project. While you still stay with Bill and Frank, your hope is to eventually make that empty house a home.

The autumn air invigorates you as you go to visit Frank in his sunroom.

“Will you be okay here by yourself?” You ask him gently.

Frank snorts. “You and Bill both, such worrywarts.”

Frank’s been moving slower, coughing more. It tugs at your heart. Over the radio you now even ask Tess if there’s other medication options for him to try.

You’ve grown to care about him, even grouchy Bill and Tess who even seems to warm up to you now.

It’s your own carved out universe.

Frank good naturedly pats your hand, reassuring you he’ll be fine. With a squeeze to his shoulder and a warm goodbye, you head across the street.

Of course Joel takes charge, and it’s hard not to jump his bones seeing how effortlessly he takes to fixing up this house.

The night you decided to stay here, Joel slid you a paper and pen.

“Draw me your dream house.” He told you gruffy.

He kept that very poor drawing. It’s what guides the renovations. The house is smaller than Bill and Frank’s but to you, it’s a perfect size.

“You know I can do it myself, make Bill work too.” Joel had told you when you first showed up to help.

“I know, but I wanna help. Wanna know my elbow grease went into everything too.” You told Joel with a grin.

He didn’t shoo you away after that. Now you get to help around when you can. The sanded cabinets and freshly painted walls, all fruits of your labor and you’re excited, proud, seeing the house come together. It’s breathing life into his dusty space, and you cherish it.

Eventually you head back to Bill and Frank’s.

Frank calls to you. “The radio came on.”

With Joel throwing himself into fixing up the house, interestingly enough you’ve become his stand in. It’s how you and Tess slowly began bonding. You’ve told her FEDRA routes and patrol changes and she’s in turn gossiped about what’s been happening in Boston.

You miss it often, but the peace of walking to visit your pumpkins, to helping Frank at breakfast, of having Joel in your bed…it’s like a new breath in your lungs.

“Hey.” You greet Tess.

She says your name, somber and you still.

“Your mom…she finally got in contact with us.”

You inhale shakily. A part of you had wondered if your mom would do something like this.

Finally managing to get a hold of a battery, your mom is offering to trade it for you.

A wave of fear does grip you. You don’t want to leave, don’t want to go back. But you also miss her dearly.

When Joel returns, beautifully coated in sweat and saw dust, he’s like a construction god. But seeing your face, he instantly understands something’s up.

In the seclusion of your room, you tell Joel you’ll return to Boston, and his eyes become moons.

“You don’t have to go back.” Joel whispers to you later that night. “Can say we want more.”

You shake your head.

Your mom has been through enough, and Joel needs this.

“You need to find Tommy.”

His hand curls against your face holding your cheek so precious. “We’ll find another battery, or hell I’ll take one of Bill’s. Don’t want ya feeling like you’re forced to go back.”

This has all been out of your control and now, you have a say.

You’ll return with Joel, but you won’t be fully returning to your life in Boston either. You’ll exist between these two worlds now, visiting your mom and primarily staying with Joel.

Your mom won’t be happy about this, you can almost hear her fury already. But this is what you want. It’s the journey your path will take.

“Y’okay with this?” Joel suddenly asks before leaving the gate to the town. His eyes search yours. “You don’t have to do this, especially for me.”

You understand what he means, but this is for you.

Gently you draw Joel towards you and kiss him soft.

With the smuggler king, you walk firmly into the sunlight. The early autumn breeze gently guides you forward.

[dia-souls]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Imajin Tokuten Drama CD “Big brothers' debate, history of the demons?!”

Original title: 兄弟間の話し合い, 悪魔の歴史?!

Source: Fanmade Tokuten Drama CD

Story by: Admin Irsa

Seiyuu: Suegara rie, Toriumi Kousuke, Takahiro Sakurai, Toshiyuki Morikawa, Tomoaki Maeno

Admin's note: Hey! I am back with a new Drama CD. These days I was confused whether I should upload a one shot or a Drama CD, after debate I went for CD as they are easier to write. Tbh this one is rushed as I didn't properly sat and think about scenes. I just wrote what came in my mind as Carla, Ruki and Shu are my favourite ships with Yui. I wanted to make a CD with any topic about them and finally I did. This cd is focused on Shu roasting as his roasting isn't appreciated enough I focused on that, Carla and Ruki are getting roasted. I have zero idea about demon things origin it's all made up and not canon. Again reviews are welcomed 😭 please review as it's the thing that gets me motivated.

Ruki: Oi! What's the meaning of this?

_Ruki entered the music room along with Carla.

Carla: That's should be my line. Woman, why did you call me with this guy?

Yui: Ruki-kun and Carla-san, thanks for coming!

_Yui walked up to them.

Ruki: State your reason here. I thought you finally stepped up your game by calling me alone in this music room, tsk.

Carla: You are truly a dense women with no sense of moral. Calling two men here in this music room, what do you hope to achieve.

_Yui's face flushed.

Yui: No-o.... You both have a misunderstanding... I-I--

Shu: Pwah.... Could you both stop ganging up on her. This shows your mentality instead of her. You are the one delusional for expecting something from a woman like her.

Ruki: Ohh... Sakamaki Shu. How about you remain quiet as you always have been.

_Ruki looked at him with cold eyes.

Shu: Hah! Why? Are you upset that I called you out?

_Shu looked at Ruki with cold eyes too.

Yui: Uhm... Shu-san wasn't cooperating to go anywhere, I had no choice but to call you both here in the music room.

Shu: Exactly! It was for my comfort don't get any ideas you perverts...

Carla: You inferior being dare to talk to a King of First blood like that!

_Carla stepped closer to Shu only for him to be blocked by Yui.

Yui: Carla-san calm down please!

Ruki: Hah! To think you need a woman to protect yourself, you truly are a failure as a man.

Shu: Is it me or are you both ganging up on me... What a pain.

Yui: Uhmm... I called you three here for an assignment.

Ruki: Assignment?? If you needed help you could have approached me privat--

Shu: Well she didn't for a reason and I think I can see why she didn't.

_Ruki glared at Shu.

Yui: Well this assignment is related to "Demons and Their history " I thought you three will be the best to talk about this topic since, I will get to know about history of vampires and founders. You three are the best options so please cooperate with me.

Carla: Hmm... So you want to know about History of founders. This will be a good idea. In this way you will know about your people.

Ruki: "Your people" what do you mean by that Tsukinami Carla.

_Carla looked at Ruki with serious eyes.

Carla: She will be the Queen of founders and as my wife she need to know about her people.

_Shu chuckled.

Shu: People? What people? Aren't founders extinct? Your history is already over.

Ruki: ...............

Yui: ................

Carla: You! How dare you vampire insult my royal bloodline! You scum!

Shu: This scum here at least has its race and isn't extinct like you.

Yui: Carla-san please-e stop I beg you don't!

_She immediately got between them stopping Carla.

Ruki: Livestock don't get in between. You aren't his Knight! Get over here!

_Shu looked at Ruki.

Shu: You need a knight actually considering your powers you half vampire.

_Ruki glared at Shu.

Ruki: You really got some guts for insulting me like that!

Yui: Ruki-kun please not you too!

_Yui left Carla to grab Ruki to stop him from getting to Shu.

Yui: Please! Please stop it!

Ruki: Hmph!

_Yui looked at them.

Yui: Umm.. For starters I have always wondered what's demons origin like how do they came into being.

Shu: In the same way you human exist we all exist that's it.

Yui: Huh? This means God made you all.

Carla: No...No God made us! We are first blood the superior--

Ruki: Hah! So you are claiming you existed from start?

Carla: My ancestors yes! Me? No.

Shu: Obviously you are after product.

Carla: Are you insulting me?!

Shu: Who knows?

Yui: Ohh? I see so that's how it is.... what about vampires? Do you all think Karlheinz-sama is the first vampire to exist.

Ruki: Good question! That man is a God with thoes incredible powers and--

Shu: Here comes his inner fanboy.

_Shu mumbled.

Ruki: Did you say something?

Shu: No...

Ruki: I see as I said. But I believe this isn't the case cuz you see he has a brother--

Shu: It's obvious he didn't crawl up directly from the hell. He was putted in this world by some miserable people. He must have some nasty parents.

Ruki: Don't insult him--

Carla: There was a time when all species were under us founder. We all were on top the most feared. No one dared to disrespect us during my father's time-

Shu: "Was" so this mean you agree to the fact you aren't feared anymore....

Carla: You! Are you picking a fight here?!? I would love to show you what fear is!

Yui: Calm down Carla-san! Shu-san is joking!

Ruki: I would rather say you humbled yourself. It must be because of her. One of us is bound to awaken as Adam.

Shu: "Us" aren't you excluded because you are half blood.

Ruki: ...........

Yui: Shu-san, why are you doing that?! Please stop it! My assignment needs to be completed.

Shu: Pwah... I am so tired could you hurry up and get over with this all.

Yui: Shu-san if you keep saying such things which angers them how am I supposed to hurry up??

Shu: Then you shouldn't have invited these short tempered people.

Carla: Now I get why that guy hates you. You clearly are a disappointment.

Shu: Ouch.. that hurted....

_Shu calmly said closing his eyes.

Ruki: This man infuriates me with his attitude!!

Yui: Please calm down you three-

Shu: Its not "three" it's "two" or" both" will be more suitable......

Ruki: You talk as if you are perfect you are nothing but a disappointment both as son and older brother.

Carla: To think you will be the one leading the vampire clan, I am sure vampire clan will be bound to ruin if the future king is a sloth.

Ruki: Hah! To think you are Karlheinz's son is a big insult.

_Yui looked at both of them angrily.

Yui: You both, it's too much stop it! You are being mean to Shu-san, he --

Ruki: To think you need to relay on others to do your work... hmph a disappointment.

_Shu smiled and looked at them.

Shu: I might be this and that but you both are still not better than me in anything. I still have everything without trying. You both could never. You both sound jealous and envious.

_Shu laughed.

Shu: I will still become king because I am better than my brothers and that old man's sons unlike someone over here I will have actual commerades actual people to lead too......

_Yui's eyes widened

Yui: Look you all, we are diverting from topic this isnt---

Carla: Huh! You really think you will get away by talking like that about me? If I want I could wipe you and your whole clan from this world!!

Ruki: You think crown will be passed to you like that you are wrong Sakamaki sShu. The crown goes to someone who has Eve and you clearly don't have her!!

Shu: So do you have her? You talk as if you have--

Carla: That's my clan will be restored by this woman so put your nasty gaze off from my woman!

Ruki: "My women"?? You are being very bold considering she doesn't even bat her lashes to you!

Yui: You-u.. gu..ys...please listen--

Carla: Your half breed aren't even in race your blood is too impure to be contaminated with someone as precious as her!

Shu: She doesn't deserve to live with a guy who is as twisted as you in first place!

Ruki: Haha! So she deserve a sloth like you a man who sleeps all day and doesn't have a will too live you!

Yui: You... Guys... stop it's enou--kyaaa

_Yui disappeared without them noticing.

Shu: She doesn't deserve someone disgusting like you with such twisted fantasies.

Ruki: She doesn't deserve someone who is a faliure as a man. A man who runs from duties and responsibilities isn't suitable for her!

Kino: You all are right! She doesn't deserve you three!

_They all turned to look at kino.

Kino: She deserve a prince as she is a princess and that Prince is me!

Carla: You! Where do you come from?!

Kino: Listen up buddies from all of your conversation I realized I am the best option for her. So it's better if you wed her to me!

Ruki: You--where is livestock?!

Kino: She is safe and sound with me don't worry I will invite you three to our wedding! Ohh! Your families are also invited!

Shu: Hahh I knew something like this will happen...

Carla: I will destroy you! Give my woman back to me!

Kino: Hehe! Never and We will see that! Sayonara!!!!

[shini--chan]

Personal pet peeve of mine: Reading a yandere story with a historical setting with the yandere reducing the target of their obsession to just sitting around all day when they are not being subjected to "affections" and it being written that way for "historical accuracy".

I mean, yeah, there were gender roles in the past, but those gender roles didn't feature women being completely reduced to fleshlights with no other purpose. That was a job and it was called prostitute or concubine, and many women didn't do it willingly. Even high society women had a lot of tasks.

Being into historical re-enactment really showed me that it didn't matter if you were a man or a woman, or even just a child; you really didn't have much time to be idle. Asides, idlness was/is frowned upon in many religions and cultures.

C'mon, even the thing with societal norms is that a great part of society didn't adhere to them 'cause it just wasn't feasible. The attitude went along the lines of: "Nice morals you got there. We're just gonna throw a few out 'cause else we're not gonna survive. Mary, go get ye scythe now, the wheat's not gonna reap itself." And high society geneally didn't really practise what it preached because it was commonly too interested in debauchery.

People didn't get married for shits and giggles either. The single lifestyle only really worked when you either inheired a lot/had relatives paying for you or that you were living under your employers roof and all your worldy possessions fitted in one bag. Or you just lived with your family until you kicked the bucket. I mean, the armour and weapons a knight had were often provided by their liege lord and a priest's housing belonged to the Church.

Also, the trope of arranged marriages is a bit overused at this point. How about more stories about both parties hating each other's guts, or the woman loving the idea of marrying her intended but the man wanting to run for the hills? The woman baby-trapping the man perhaps? Because all of that existed to!

Don't get me started on fashion. Corset =/= patriarchy. You don't see the women in Jane Austen or Mary Shelley novels complaining about corsets and burning them, so let it rest. Really, that trope of corsets being a torture device comes from men making fun of woman's fashion and actresses with illfitting periode costumes. Corsets were more comfortable than stays and only really went out of fashion due to women needing more flexability due to bicycles. Ya really think ladies removed ribs, in a period where there weren't antibiotics and doctors went from cutting up corpses to treating patients without washing their hands inbetween? Common sense, where are you?

Asides, the clothing having to be chaste and covering certain parts applied to everybody. Breeches went out of fashion because people thought women would become arroused by men's exposed calves. Such standards didn't only apply to the Victorians, mind you.

I'll stop here, else this will be ten pages long. You also get the gist of it. Over and out.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Buried Secrets Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Hello my lovelies!

As I’ve recently mentioned, I’ve started planning and researching for my next fic adventure, Buried Secrets. Not to worry, I do still plan to finish up with our dear dancing Dieter before I officially begin to post this one. However, I am currently working on the characterization for Frankie and Mya in addition to developing the plot outline so that I have some time to stew on it.

Something fun that I did for Closed Position was a ‘Meet the Characters’ post. It really helped me get to know the characters a little better while also introducing them to you all before we dug into the story. So, without further ado, let’s get to know Frankie and Mya a little bit!

About Frankie Morales in Buried Secrets

Frankie wasn’t in the best place after he and the guys came back from South America. He felt a lot of guilt over what happened to that fucking asshole Tom and the men who were killed in the small village where he crash-landed the chopper. He still has it in his head that he took the first shot that was the beginning of Tom’s demise. Because of that, he had a little slip up and relapsed. It only happened once, but it was enough for his lady to leave him. Especially since she was already angry about him going to South America.

After losing his family, he realized he needed to get his shit together and figure his life out before he spiraled any further. He worked to get his pilot’s license back and also had the brilliant idea to start a private security business. He managed to convince Santi, Will, and Benny to join him in the new business venture.

Thus far, the business has been lucrative, allowing them to expand and take on able veterans who needed employment. They have created a pretty sizable team as a result. Benny and Will typically handle the day-to-day people part of the job while Santi is in charge of logistics. Frankie is the boss and gets final say on everything. If his gut tells him it’s a bad idea, he no longer hesitates to shut things down. He’s not willing to take unnecessary risks.

In order to keep himself busy (and away from drugs) Frankie helps Benny with his MMA fight training. He spends lots of time in the ring sparing and working out with Benny to keep his friend focused and in shape.

When Frankie isn’t training with Benny, he’s working on an old muscle car that he recently purchased. It needs a ton of work, but he’s got the time and needs the distraction. When he’s not working on his car, he’s with the guys at the local bar. He often plays darts to unwind and usually tries to keep his drinking to a minimum, if he even drinks anything at all. It’s on these nights when the guys reminisce and talk about Tom. He was an asshole, but he was still their captain and brother in arms after all.

Frankie has also begun to spend a lot of his time at the local gun range. He’s found that something about it helps calm and center him. It allows him to clear his mind and focus on hitting the target rather than his painful memories. In a strange way, it gives him a small piece of military life that he’s missing as a civilian.

Frankie often thinks about the money that they left in the mountains of Chile. He knows that the money could change all their lives in ways he can’t even fathom. He lays in bed at night going through every possible scenario for getting it back, but everything he comes up with feels too risky. He’s too afraid of losing another one of his teammates. So, he lets it fester. It’s a splinter which is slowly infecting his soul. It makes him angry that they lost so much for nothing. It dictates every decision, often forcing him to take the safest route on all things out of fear and makes him second guess his choices. It's a touchy topic for him that he immediately shuts down each time Santi brings it up.

Even though Frankie is now free to be with others, he actively avoids it. He is lonely but doesn't feel he is in a place to pursue anything serious...or casual for that matter. He is completely taken off guard the day Mya Carnahan waltzes into his place of business asking to speak directly to him regarding the specialized security services he offers. She makes him question everything about himself and what he knows about women.

About Mya Carnahan in Buried Secrets

Mya is going to be a little different than all my other OFCs. While they are all badasses in their own way, Mya will definitely take the cake. However, she does have somewhat of a shady past.

Mya's first choice of profession was in law enforcement. During this time, she joined the forces' SWAT team, allowing her to learn many special skills. She eventually gets caught up in a whirlwind romance with one of her arrestees, Damien, who turns out to be a rather charismatic individual that is involved in selling black market antiquities.

As Damien lures Mya deeper into his world, her love for history grows. She takes advantage of the large sums of money she begins to rake in as a black market dealer and puts herself through college in pursuit of a more reputable profession in archeology. She wants to be the person to find the artifacts, and maybe collect some things to sell on the side too.

As Mya delves into the myths and legends of ancient civilizations, she learns about the lost city of Paititi. She becomes almost obsessive over it, convinced she knows where to find it. It becomes her ultimate end goal, she only needs someone to fund a proper expedition to test her theories.

It's because of her relationship with Damien that she gets tangled in a mess that she can't find her way out of. In a transaction gone wrong with a prominent crime lord named Miguel Collazo, Damien runs off with the money and the artifact that Collazo wanted to purchase, leaving Mya to deal with the fallout. She makes a deal with Collazo, agreeing to lead an expedition to find the lost city with promises of finding a treasure like no other. Collazo agrees to be her benefactor for the expedition, with the guarantee of consequences if she doesn't deliver.

Through all of her past experiences, Mya learns how to become somewhat of a chameleon. She can present as a proper and sophisticated antiquities dealer, or she can suit up and handle business. She has a knack for blending in and manipulating situations in her favor to either get what she wants or save herself. In some cases, it’s both.

Mya has been trained to handle a wide variety of weapons and in mixed martial arts. Her favorite hobbies include knife throwing, rock climbing, and riding her motorcycle. She also loves research and solving puzzles. She is intelligent and very good at all aspects of her job, however, she can be extremely stubborn and fiercely independent to a fault.

As you can imagine, Frankie is not prepared when this woman walks into his life. Mya has his head spinning from the beginning and frustrates the hell out of him. Especially when she defies him, insisting he is there to protect her team and not her (because she can take care of herself). These two are so much alike, which creates an interesting dynamic and causes them to bump heads, A LOT. However, they can't help but to be attracted to each other. As we progress through this little adventure their relationship evolves, and they do eventually fall for each other. They will do whatever necessary to keep the other safe as both of their pasts collide, causing all hell to break loose.

I'm really excited to dig into this one and do something a little different. Are you excited yet? How are you feeling about these characters and the plot so far? Do you have any predictions or conspiracy theories (you know I love it when you all come at me with those).

In case you missed any of the teasers/asks that had other little tidbits of info, feel free to check those out HERE. I’ve also started my typical nonsense with collecting vibe posts for this fic (I know how much some of you love those). You can find them HERE.

Until next time, 💜Mysty

🔎P.S. There is a fun easter egg from one of my favorite adventure movies in this post. If anyone can guess it...I will give you another little teaser. 😏

👉 Tagging anyone who interacted with the masterlist and/or teaser post(s). Feel free to shoot me a DM if you would prefer to not be tagged for this fic going forward.

@2birdsofafeather @72scsuze @76bookworm76 @a-beautiful-but-sassy-world @almostfoxglove

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @annalovesflorida @anniet852 @ashleyfilm @ashlovesdrpepper

@auteurdelabre @avastrasposts @biggetywitch @bitchwitch1981 @bluestar22x

@bunniboo0015 @burntheedges @captainredspade @chaoticfestninja @cheekychaos28

@christinamadsen @copperhalfcent @darkheartgatita @diabaroxa @din-cognito

@elisabethloves @fifitheragertot @for-a-longlongtime @girlofchaos @guelyury

@harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @imdrinkingpedro @jackie923 @janeie87

@jeewrites @jensensational71 @jessthebaker @jessthebaker @joels-darlin

@kate-skates @katw474 @kels976 @lady-bess @gwendibleywrites

@ladyofmidlo72 @lizzie-cakes @madnessofadaydreamer @maggiemoo1892 @mandeepandee1997

@maried01 @maryfanson @missladym1981 @misstokyo7love

@notyouraveragemochii @nova-starlite @olafsmiles2020 @oliveksmoked @harrysrosetatto

@owlhypnosis @pasc4lfuzz @pearlthegurl @plancommence @purplewis44

@rav3n-pascal22 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @ryuzakemo128 @sandaltoesocks

@sherala007 @sjc7542 @southernbe @stevie75 @stileslvr

@sub-aro @sundaze29 @survivingandenduring @suziesc @the-strawberrythief

@thethirstwivesclub @timpletance @tiredandtwitchy @titlee78 @trulybetty

@tupelomiss @weho2kcmo @willcw-tree @xchar1 @yep531

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @yopossum @yopossum-loves @yorksgirl @beefrobeefcal

@papipascaaaal @shadowpandas @tangled-tumbler-blog-blog @you-give-aspirin-headaches @jollybhie 

@sunshinehaze1 @diamondclit0ris @midnightbabylon @nerdieforpedro @cheyennerenee10

[illithilit]

✖ SEXUAL PREFERENCES

BOLD - applies always / usually. Italic - applies less often / sometimes. Strike out - never applies / hard no. If no changes to text - possible but circumstantial.

Beneath the cut: Amis, Blurg, Orianna, Mourndax, and Grazilaxx preferences.

Amis

✖ INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

is submissive | is dominant | prefers to top | prefers to bottom | likes to switch | identifies as heterosexual | identifies as homosexual | identifies as bisexual | identifies as pansexual | identifies as demisexual | identifies as asexual | enjoys sex with men | enjoys sex with women | enjoys sex with multiple people at one time | initiates | waits for partner to initiate | spits | swallows | prefers sex in the morning | prefers sex at night | prefers sex any time | no sex drive | low sex drive | average sex drive | high sex drive | hypersexual

✖ SOUNDS:

is silent/makes little to no sounds | is very quiet | is very loud | grows in volume over time | bites hand/partner/pillow to muffle themselves | calls out partner’s name | curses | fakes/exaggerates | prefers a quiet partner | prefers a loud partner | prefers a responsive partner | is turned on by dirty talk | is turned off by dirty talk

✖ TURN-ONS/KINKS:

having their hands pinned | pinning their partner’s hands | having their hair pulled | pulling their partner’s hair | being watched (by their partner) | being watched (by a third party) | watching their partner | receiving oral | giving oral | calling their partner ‘daddy’ | being called ‘daddy’ | giving praise | receiving praise | biting/marking | being bitten/marked | spanking | being spanked | teasing | being teased | having toys used on them | using toys on their partner | giving anal | receiving anal | choking | being choked | dirty talk | being tied up | tying their partner up | being worshipped | worshipping their partner | humiliating | being humiliated | degrading | being degraded | knife play | blood play | being pegged | pegging

Blurg

✖ INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

is submissive | is dominant | prefers to top | prefers to bottom | likes to switch | identifies as heterosexual | identifies as homosexual | identifies as bisexual | identifies as pansexual | identifies as demisexual | identifies as asexual | enjoys sex with men | enjoys sex with women | enjoys sex with multiple people at one time | initiates | waits for partner to initiate | spits | swallows | prefers sex in the morning | prefers sex at night | prefers sex any time | no sex drive | low sex drive | average sex drive | high sex drive | hypersexual

✖ SOUNDS:

is silent/makes little to no sounds | is very quiet | is very loud | grows in volume over time | bites hand/partner/pillow to muffle themselves | calls out partner’s name | curses | fakes/exaggerates | prefers a quiet partner | prefers a loud partner | prefers a responsive partner | is turned on by dirty talk | is turned off by dirty talk

✖ TURN-ONS/KINKS:

having their hands pinned | pinning their partner’s hands | having their hair pulled | pulling their partner’s hair | being watched (by their partner) | being watched (by a third party) | watching their partner | receiving oral | giving oral | calling their partner ‘daddy’ | being called ‘daddy’ | giving praise | receiving praise | biting/marking | being bitten/marked | spanking | being spanked | teasing | being teased | having toys used on them | using toys on their partner | giving anal | receiving anal | choking | being choked | dirty talk | being tied up | tying their partner up | being worshipped | worshipping their partner | humiliating | being humiliated | degrading | being degraded | knife play | blood play | being pegged | pegging

Orianna

✖ INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

is submissive | is dominant | prefers to top | prefers to bottom | likes to switch | identifies as heterosexual | identifies as homosexual | identifies as bisexual | identifies as pansexual | identifies as demisexual | identifies as asexual | enjoys sex with men | enjoys sex with women | enjoys sex with multiple people at one time | initiates | waits for partner to initiate | spits | swallows | prefers sex in the morning | prefers sex at night | prefers sex any time | no sex drive | low sex drive | average sex drive | high sex drive | hypersexual

✖ SOUNDS:

is silent/makes little to no sounds | is very quiet | is very loud | grows in volume over time | bites hand/partner/pillow to muffle themselves | calls out partner’s name | curses | fakes/exaggerates | prefers a quiet partner | prefers a loud partner | prefers a responsive partner | is turned on by dirty talk | is turned off by dirty talk

✖ TURN-ONS/KINKS:

having their hands pinned | pinning their partner’s hands | having their hair pulled | pulling their partner’s hair | being watched (by their partner) | being watched (by a third party) | watching their partner | receiving oral | giving oral | calling their partner ‘daddy’ | being called ‘daddy’ | giving praise | receiving praise | biting/marking | being bitten/marked | spanking | being spanked | teasing | being teased | having toys used on them | using toys on their partner | giving anal | receiving anal | choking | being choked | dirty talk | being tied up | tying their partner up | being worshipped | worshipping their partner | humiliating | being humiliated | degrading | being degraded | knife play | blood play | being pegged | pegging

Mourndax

✖ INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

is submissive | is dominant | prefers to top | prefers to bottom | likes to switch | identifies as heterosexual | identifies as homosexual | identifies as bisexual | identifies as pansexual | identifies as demisexual | identifies as asexual | enjoys sex with men | enjoys sex with women | enjoys sex with multiple people at one time | initiates | waits for partner to initiate | spits | swallows | prefers sex in the morning | prefers sex at night | prefers sex any time | no sex drive | low sex drive | average sex drive | high sex drive | hypersexual

✖ SOUNDS:

is silent/makes little to no sounds | is very quiet | is very loud | grows in volume over time | bites hand/partner/pillow to muffle themselves | calls out partner’s name | curses | fakes/exaggerates | prefers a quiet partner | prefers a loud partner | prefers a responsive partner | is turned on by dirty talk | is turned off by dirty talk

✖ TURN-ONS/KINKS:

having their hands pinned | pinning their partner’s hands | having their hair pulled | pulling their partner’s hair | being watched (by their partner) | being watched (by a third party) | watching their partner | receiving oral | giving oral | calling their partner ‘daddy’ | being called ‘daddy’ | giving praise | receiving praise | biting/marking | being bitten/marked | spanking | being spanked | teasing | being teased | having toys used on them | using toys on their partner | giving anal | receiving anal | choking | being choked | dirty talk | being tied up | tying their partner up | being worshipped | worshipping their partner | humiliating | being humiliated | degrading | being degraded | knife play | blood play | being pegged | pegging

Grazilaxx

✖ INCLINATIONS/HABITS:

is submissive | is dominant | prefers to top | prefers to bottom | likes to switch | identifies as heterosexual | identifies as homosexual | identifies as bisexual | identifies as pansexual | identifies as demisexual | identifies as asexual | enjoys sex with men | enjoys sex with women | enjoys sex with multiple people at one time | initiates | waits for partner to initiate | spits | swallows | prefers sex in the morning | prefers sex at night | prefers sex any time | no sex drive | low sex drive | average sex drive | high sex drive | hypersexual

✖ SOUNDS:

is silent/makes little to no sounds | is very quiet | is very loud | grows in volume over time | bites hand/partner/pillow to muffle themselves | calls out partner’s name | curses | fakes/exaggerates | prefers a quiet partner | prefers a loud partner | prefers a responsive partner | is turned on by dirty talk | is turned off by dirty talk

✖ TURN-ONS/KINKS:

having their hands pinned | pinning their partner’s hands | having their hair pulled | pulling their partner’s hair | being watched (by their partner) | being watched (by a third party) | watching their partner | receiving oral | giving oral | calling their partner ‘daddy’ | being called ‘daddy’ | giving praise | receiving praise | biting/marking | being bitten/marked | spanking | being spanked | teasing | being teased | having toys used on them | using toys on their partner | giving anal | receiving anal | choking | being choked | dirty talk | being tied up | tying their partner up | being worshipped | worshipping their partner | humiliating | being humiliated | degrading | being degraded | knife play | blood play | being pegged | pegging

[nikachansstuff]

A book written for women by a woman

Romance at its peak.

A man is not enough to tell this story: a woman invented a whole new species. Let’s make it fae, give them wings. Let’s make it feral. Horny is too masculine, too vulgar. So let’s make it primal urges, something in their gut telling them “this is the female that was promised for me by the Gods!”

Her scent, her voice, the taste of her skin. Yes, let’s make him beg for a taste. A life without her is just survival. And there’s only one! No, real life doesn’t have a part in this tale: this male is only feral for his personal Venus.

Consider this scenario, all this factors to just hit the right dopamine spot in a woman’s brain. God, it’s good to be a woman!

And then, you have people pulling “it’s just lust” from their pocket. Uh, the cold shower.

So… you’re telling me that Sarah J. Mass, finally enjoying the opportunity to write in one of her favorites male characters POV, decided to flip the script in her romance telling? You’re telling me Azriel was written as just “hungry for pussy”?

I saw the term “childish” being used to describe Elriels. “They need to stop saying is love! It’s such a child behavior, the man is just horny!”

You forgot that this is a book written for the female gaze. Love and feral needs are both the same. I’m comfortable wearing my pink glasses enjoying my fantasy book, fully trusting this male to be in love with the only one he wants. Because that’s how it’s supposed to be read! I don’t need to be guarded reading this type of book, questioning a male’s intentions. I’m safe, the dangerous things are outside the romance part. Monsters, demons, evil kings. There’s no fuck boys in fantasy, you can relax.

If you are judging fantasy actions based on real life morals and standards, you’re doing it wrong. Here, let me help you: have my rose-colored glasses. I will draw you a bubble bath, and serve you a pink lemonade.

Let’s just enjoy being a woman, let us have this, yes?

[jedi-enthusiast]

Ok, I just realized something kinda hilarious since I’m bouncing between writing TGW and writing my Fallout 4 fic ‘and still, we stand’

I love writing morally grey characters, but I absolutely refuse to write morally grey characters in Star Wars, because like-

Let’s use ASWS as an example:

Arryn- (MC) -has been through a lot of trauma, so she doesn’t trust people at all and- (because of the specific trauma she suffered) -her gut reaction to most situations is violent. She hurts people, she kills people, she lies, she cheats, she always expects the worst of people…all to protect herself from ever being hurt again.

Her emotions are completely understandable, given what she’s been through, but that doesn’t mean her reactions are right.

A big part of her character development is learning that she doesn’t have to follow the “hurt others before they hurt you" way of thinking and that, when they're given the chance, most people will choose to be good. Yeah there's still jackasses and cruel people out there, this is Fallout after all, but no one expects her to be particularly optimistic or even for her to change her way of thinking all that much.

What she learns is that she doesn't need to distance herself from the people she cares about to avoid pain, she can trust people and lean on them when she needs to, and that she doesn't always need to expect the worst from people---because, more often than not, they'll surprise her if they're given the chance.

By the end of the fic, I'll be honest, Arryn doesn't necessarily change all that much---she still doesn't trust easily, she's still pessimistic, she still has a lot of baggage and unhealthy coping mechanisms...but the point is that she's grown. She's trying to be better, whatever that would look like fore her.

...

I cannot do that with Star Wars.

Because with Star Wars so many people have this idea of- "oh, this morally grey/terrible person is correct because fuck emotional control and being a decent person" -for reasons I don't understand.

If I wrote a fic, like I wanted to, about a Sith who was being trained by Dooku---but who eventually flipped sides because she started to care about the clones and, through that, started to have her views called into question---and had the Jedi try to help her to which she, due to her trauma, lashed out at them...

...an unfortunate amount of people would say that she was in the right.

They would say that she shouldn't control her emotions, that her accusations against the Jedi and Republic are valid, that she did nothing wrong during the war and her apprenticeship with Dooku.

And, personally, I don't want to have to write a fic where I'll constantly be having to write a 4k meta in the author's note section about why she is in the wrong and it is bad that she's doing what she's doing.

Which fucking sucks because, personally, I think I could do a really fucking cool story with the whole- "Sith apprentice changing sides during the war and all the drama/emotions/etc. that comes with that" -and I think I could execute it better than a lot of the people actually making content for Star Wars.

(looking at you Felony and Headland)

But, due to the lack of media comprehension and the---frankly stupid as fuck---attempts of the anti-Jedi crowd to make the Jedi out to be the "bad guys" of Star Wars, I refuse to write the fic I want.

So yeah, there's my rant of the day.

Sorry if it didn't make sense.

It's 1 am.

[codacheetah]

AGREE WITH YOUR PREVIOUS POST. I like mean Loop as a facade only, but we know they still care and love...

Now I have a question, what's your favorite Loop takes/headcanon

Oh my god I'm so sorry I took like two weeks to answer this one I prommy it's not bc I'm exclusively a hater or whatever. I just straight up forgot to answer Oopsie. I'm putting this under cut bc it got long enough that you all would shoot arrows at me for putting it on your dash

Anyways there's a lot of Loop Thangs I like frankly. A big one that I enjoy is when fic authors in postcanon make the transition of Loop into the party structure kind of rocky. Usually bc Loop's neuroses creating a level 12 psychic barrier between them and the party + the inherent awkwardness of meeting somebody who's apparently super close in a way (that you'll never fully understand) to one of your friends. Who let's be real I feel like half the party (coughIsabeauandMirabelle) would catch the aura of "oh they do not like us at all" from Loop. I want Loop to be happy and with their family but you just know this bitch is going to make it as difficult for themself on purpose. The Siffrin Special.

I also just generally like when they keep Loop as a star postcanon. I'm not at all a hater towards Human Loop (in fact I think it can be itself an interesting setup for a Loop fic) but I do like Loop as a star more thematically. Something about having to accept that things have changed and moving on from it regardless. Also bc Loop being dysphoric about their body scratches a very transgender projection itch in my brain Yessss little star you're stuck in a body that draws unwanted attention and which you have no control over how it looks and functions in a way that feels fundamentally wrong to you. (Pointing at canonically transgender character) Yooooo this guy is such a cool trans allegory omg

Hmm what else. This is more of a sloops thing but I always enjoy in fics when they lean into the fact it's selfcest frankly. I've become a selfcest enjoyer bc of this ship I'll never get over that act 5 dialogue abt the cautionary tale where Siffrin says he never understood the moral of the story bc the idea of having somebody just like him who understands him. Oh my gyoooooooooooooooood. I want them to melt into sludge I'm always thinking of that analogy from superflyghtheart on discord comparing Loop and Siffrin to endlings of an endangered species. 💥💥💥It's like. This is less sloopy now but I'm caught between the intersection in my head of "Loop would probably benefit from developing their own identity as a person separate from Siffrin bc they need Something they have control over" and "Loop is of the Siffrin Species and they are significantly too sentimental to let go of the shreds of what they used to have, especially after having lost all of it once already". Both of these things are yummy as fuck when ppl smarter than me explore them and they're kinda the main Story Paths for postcanon Loop anyways so I'm always winning. So like idk tldr I like it both when ppl have Loop diverge a lot as a person and when they have Loop try their best to stay as much of a Siffrin as possible!

I'm limiting myself to four paragraphs so you don't all want to hit me with hammers but I do have Loop Biology Headcanons. I've explained mythoughts on their guts before and don't feel like recounting them but whatever True #codacheetahwarriors remember my deranged rambling. ANYWAYS I kind of mentally run on the assumption of Loop's body as like. The Universe couldn't keep Loop in Siffrin's body, bc they needed Siffrin to be in it (and I guess a system situation introduces too many factors of its own? idk). The Universe operates with the goal of fulfilling wishes with the least intervention possible, so The Universe makes a body out of cheap inorganic material (star-scrap basically). Miniature star for a head fueling the body with Craft energy (I'm not going to get into my conspiracy that all Craft is the same here). Molds the star scrap into a vaguely Siffrin-shaped/sized vessel and plonks Loop's conscious into it and calls it a day. So Loop's body as a poor simulacrum of a human body is like. They're capable of breathing but they only really benefit from doing it on a psychological level. They can't eat or drink and don't have a mouth because it would require a significant level of added effort to make a digestive system, when they can just derive energy from their star. They don't have reproductive organs because they're not made from organic material anymore anyways. They don't need to sleep bc their body never gets tired but they still do it because it's not really a great idea to leave your brain on running for too long anyways.

I fucking lied I'm on paragraph five bc the block of text is annoying me. To continue that's all a preface to say I think it's super fun when Loop has body functions that are weird and unpredictable. Their little frizzles on their body are reactive to their emotions the same way their headstar is, and feel like static if you touch them. Their head has a vague boundary so their eyes have something to be rooted to but the function by which their optic nerves work is unclear to everybody including themself. They glow based on intensity of emotion and the temperature of their star changes via specific mood. Bc I think it would be fun if the battlefield in twohats when from ice cold to boiling hot frankly. Ok these are all just my headcanons (temperature one very loose though I'm not a hard subscriber to it) but they're not uniquely mine it's just examples of what I mean. One I don't have as a personal headcanon but I do enjoy is when Loop feels the same physical sensations as Siffrin bc it's funny and I like inflicting misery on the star.

I'm going to shut up now like actually . Loop for your troubles

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Your post about ML trying to be a formula show and a serialized show at the same time reminded me of how one of my favorite shows ever, Moral Orel, actually managed to make the switch from one to the other, and I really kinda wish we could have seen ML do what Moral Orel was doing before it got prematurely cancelled two season early

Like, the first season of MO was a cut and dry formula show, but towards the end of S1 we're shown the cracks in the world, until the finale finally outright breaks the formula in the last third

Then S2 seems to try to get back into the formula, but it never quite gets back to normal, with more and more of the underlying serialized drama that the creators crafted around the formula bleeding into it, until with the finale (one of the most gut wrenching finales in tv history btw) the formula is pretty much forgotten outside of some flashbacks in the next season

S3 is just a fully serialized drama, and if it hadn't been cancelled prematurely the creators and staff had two more season planned where the focus would shift fully from one character/family being the main focus to the whole town being the sort of 'main character'

Like, during the year long hiatus after S1 that's kinda how I was envisioning ML to go after ending on Volpina and Origins

S1 gave us the fun formula and the basic set-up of the world (our leads and villain and their powers, the Love Square, the supporting characters, etc) before ending on hints of a deeper story hidden behind the formula show we've been presented, but we all know how that went in ML

This is honestly where I thought Miraculous was going at the tail end of season one/start of season two. It's incredibly common for kids' shows to start off without a strong plot for their first season or even just first half-season in order to play things safe (examples: Steven Universe and The Owl House). They don't want to commit to anything major until the show proves that it's going to do numbers, so the most you get are subtle hints of a larger plot. Then, once they feel like they have an audience, they can get more serious and do some actual plots because they know that they're probably going to be able to have multiple seasons.

Origins felt like the start of that transition from playing it safe to actually telling a story that required an active audience who would do their best to never miss an episode. Add in Volpina giving us a cliffhanger and, okay, time to go! But no. Instead we get the worst of both worlds where there's too many big serialized elements for the formula stuff to feel fun and too much adherence to the formula to let the big serialized elements function. Terrible choice. Zero starts. If the powers that be won't let you do a true serial show, then keep the serial content to stuff that works in the background. Don't pick big, dramatic stuff that needs room to breathe!

[maryfailstowrite]

¡¡ SPOILERS FOR YTTD !!

¡¡ SPOILERS FOR YTTD !!

¡¡ SPOILERS FOR YTTD !!

Shin either dies antagonized or lives long enough to become an antagonist.

If you vote for him, he dies thinking everyone hates him. And the worst thing?? He’s right. Even if you vote for him because “saving the kid is the morally right thing to do”, he knows that at least half the cast voted for him because they absolutely despise him, and that the other half that didn’t vote for him still hates his guts, but wants to use him as a tool to get out of the death game. He dies without a chance to tell his story, to show the world that he was just the way he was to survive, and in the end, it doesn’t really matter. He dies, and he dies an asshole. His last and only redeeming act (sacrificing himself for Kanna) is decided by everyone else, and even if you can start seeing bits of his real personality in his last moments (him using the AI Joe to help Sara heal, his last words, etc.), he dies before he can see anyone see him for who he really was. A person, just like everyone else. The only exception to this would be Kanna, who sees the good in him far before everyone else, and that only makes his sacrifice for her even more tragic. He proves the odds right, the odds Asunaro created, the odds he fought until the very end, because, after all,

No one can escape their destiny.

And yet, dying is the best outcome for him (which is pretty ironic, but well). If he lives, he becomes miserable (even more than he was before, I mean). He lives knowing that everyone sees him as a tool and has only allowed him to live because of his utility to them. Not only that, but they’ve killed his sister, a fourteen year old for it. Not only does he get the little bit of humanity showed to him so far taken away, but they also take Kanna’s away by seeing her as a sacrifice needed for a greater good (the greater good being a slightly higher chance at surviving). The group doesn’t see them as people anymore, but rather as parts of an equation they need to solve. The route where everyone loses their morality and compassion (again, they’re killing a fourteen year old) is the only one where Shin can survive, because the group turns into what they so desperately hated Shin for. They turn into calculating beings that see people as odds and chances, and that don’t care about a few dying if they survive in the process. Ironically, Shin turns into the opposite: He stops trying to save himself by logically considering the best course of action to survive, but rather, he acts out of spite. The odds are now reversed: The group (represented by Sara) starts trying to find the best outcome by using logic, completely disregarding people as people and instead seeing them as just what they bring to the group, and Shin stops caring about logic and only acts on his desire to avenge his sister’s death. Of course, he still makes logical decisions, and he collaborates when he knows it’s completely necessary, just like the group doesn’t become a bunch of completely emotionless robots, but his overall drive doesn’t come from logic and survival anymore: it comes from pain and spite, two of the strongest emotion that can lead a human being.

Shin turns into the representation of emotion, and the rest the representation of logic. The group loses any kind of moral compass they could’ve had, because in the logic route, everyone is there just to survive; except Shin, who is there just to see them all die. No one is “in the right” in the logic route. You can sympathize with the group’s drive to survive, and the pressure put on Sara (reminder: she’s a seventeen year old) to make such a heavy decision (in fact, you should empathize with them. That’s what YTTD is about), but you can’t excuse the killing (it isn’t exactly a murder, but their votes do kill Kanna) of a fourteen year old when there was an adult completely suitable to be voted safely, and willing to give his life for her. You can’t excuse that, nor their hypocrisy: Killing a child after everything they’ve been preaching so far is completely contradicting (see: the room of lies, where you have the dialogue choice to ask q-taro to press the switch and save Gin. And there’s no logical reason for that, aside from… saving the kid, right?). And while you can also sympathize with Shin’s motives for acting how he did before, and with his pain after losing his sister, even with his drive to seek vengeance, but you can’t excuse how he acts after it: He tries to drive Sara (again, seventeen) into a state of madness using the Joe AI, and his only wish is literally to see everyone die. Again, there’s no one good: just different shades of grey. Your interpretation of the chapter and the character’s actions will depend on how you feel about them and how much you sympathize with their motives. Is Shin a devastated older brother, acting solely on the pain his sister’s death has brought to him? Or is he just using that as an excuse to become an even bigger asshole and do anything to survive as he always intended to? Does Sara vote for Kanna as a way to honor her wishes? Does she think Kanna is finally in a state to make such a decision for herself? Does she vote for Kanna wishing to save more people with her sacrifice in the long run? Or does she vote for Kanna solely to raise their survival stakes by using Shin around like a pawn? Is it the responsible decision of a group leader? Or the selfish decision of a tired and scared seventeen year old? It’s only up to you to decide.

You are the only one to blame after all, aren’t you?

Fun fact: Sou is a play on the word “Uso”, which means “Lie”, and Hiyori means “Sunny weather”. On the contrary, the word “Shin” means “Truth”, and “Tsukimi” means “Moon-viewing”. I think it’s a great parallel between his personas. (And a good note to end a post about his character).