#this is probably the most open i've ever been | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

avastrasposts · 1 day ago

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - a Christmas chapter

I've been planning on getting back to these two for a while, and then I had a brain spark and poured out 10k words in two days... The story starts up a few years after the end of The Pilot and his Girl and the story will make more sense if you've read that. I hope you enjoy revisiting these two as much as I did!

Frankie Morales x F!Reader in The Last of Us Warnings: Listen, it's TLoU, expect canon levels of violence and gory details as always. Word count: 8.5k

His low, soft, whisper slips into your dream as his warm hand gently strokes your back, “Time to wake up, cariño.”

When you don’t stir, the warmth of the bed, and his solid chest against your back, too comfortable to give up, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, moving his lips to your neck, along your jaw until he can reach your mouth and breathe softly against it.

“C’mon, hermosa, wake up, I need to get going,” he whispers again, and you can feel the soft scratch of his mustache against your lips.

“No…” you mumble, “it’s too early, Frankie.”

“I know, but I have the early patrol shift and you told me to wake you up before I left.”

He’s wrapped his arm around your waist and is pulling you against his chest, almost enveloping you under him. As he continues to press wet kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your mouth, you slowly wake up, squinting up at him as he smiles.

“Morning, mi amor.”

“Morning, fish sticks.”

He chuckles at that, his grin making the corners of eyes crinkle, deeper now than when you first met him, over twenty years ago, both his patchy beard and chocolate brown hair shot through with more silver every year. But he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, your Frankie.

“I’ve got to go, I’m meeting Gunnar down by the stables in ten, we’ll be back in two days. We’re going to the mountain resort up by Jackson Hole, make sure it’s still in one piece after that storm.”

“Ok,” you mumble, “stay safe, come back to me.”

“Siempre, cariño, te amo.”

He presses another kiss to your lips as you pull your arms from under the covers and wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Love you too, Frankie.”

Your hand shakes as you raise it to knock on Joel’s door, trembling as you step back and wait for him to open. His heavy boots thump across the floor behind the door and you see his shadow in the window pane before he opens.

“They're not back yet, Joel,” you say before he has time to greet you, “It’s been five days and they’re not back yet.”

“The storm delayed them, they’re probably on their way back already,” he says as he lets you through the door. Ellie is lounging on the couch in the living room, book in hand, but now she looks up at you.

“They should’ve been back by now, even if they had to walk the horses,” you object, “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this and Will and Benny are out on patrol too and I can’t wait until they’re back.”

“You want to go out to the resort and find him,” Joel says, leaning against the side of the couch and crossing his arms as you pace in front of the fireplace spreading warmth through the room.

“You’re the only one I trust to do this with, Joel,” you reply, “I’m asking you to come, but I’ll go on my own if I have to.”

“If you do that, Frankie’s gonna kill me when he gets back,” Joel says, and you know he’s only half kidding. Frankie would never let you leave Jackson alone, he’s never even been completely comfortable with you leaving on patrols without him. Years of training has made you almost as capable as the ex-Delta Force men, and you’re definitely one of the best snipers in Jackson. But despite that, Frankie never likes it when you leave Jackson, especially without him.

“I don’t want to go alone, but I can’t just hang around here and wait for them to maybe come back, I’m leaving in an hour,” you cross your arms, mimicking Joel’s stance as you stop in front of him and give your ultimatum.

“Hang on, when is Will and Benny due back?” He straightens up and drops his hands to his waist, challenging your determination.

“Tomorrow evening. But I’m not waiting until then, because then we can’t go until the morning the day after and then it’s been another two days. I’ve left Jack with Eve and the kids.”

Joel sighs and rubs a large hand over his face, glancing over his shoulder at Ellie who shrugs.

“I’m fine on my own, I’ll eat at Tommy’s. You should go, she sounds serious about going on her own.”

Joel sighs again and shakes his head, “Ok, fine, meet me at the stable in half an hour, I’ll get my pack together.”

The snow is thick on the ground as you leave the Jackson gate behind. Only a few patrols have left Jackson since the storm cleared. Will and Benny set out almost immediately with a large party, heading for a nearby settlement that had requested help just before the storm hit. Another small party had headed out towards the radio tower to clear the path up to it. And now you and Joel trudge through the thick snow, your horses kicking up clouds of white as their breaths steam.

Your nerves are frayed, it feels like they’re on the outside of your skin, chafing with every movement as you look around the snow covered landscape. The snow forces you to go slow, sparing the horses and protecting them from any hidden obstacles, your fingers drum against your thigh as you ride behind Joel. He’s got his heavy backpack on, his usual rifle in front of him and he lets his horse pick a path through the snow at its own pace.

It takes you most of the day to get close enough to actually see the ski resort high up on the mountain side. Joel’s been telling you that you’ll probably run into Frankie and Gunnar as they make their way back. Then he tells you to keep an eye out for horse tracks heading towards Jackson, there’s a chance Frankie and Gunnar will take another route back and you might miss them. But as the miles slip by and the resort comes into view, he doesn’t repeat himself. Instead you see him double check his rifle and scan the surroundings with more vigilance and you know he’s beginning to worry. If Frankie and Gunnar were ok, you would’ve at least seen their tracks by now. You clench your fist inside your glove and bite back on the panic that’s creeping up your throat. You need a cool head now, you and Joel need a plan to approach the resort and tackle anything that you find there.

“Hopefully they’re just snowed in,” Joel says, “it looks like the snow’s thicker up there. Let’s take that trail up,” he motions to the forest and turns his horse. There’s no visible trail between the trees, but you know there’s a narrow one that curves up around the resort and comes down to it from behind, hiding you from anyone inside the resort. You ride in silence, vigilant, as the horses make their way up the increasingly difficult hillside. Finally Joel halts his horse and dismounts.

“Let’s walk from here and lead the horses, we’ll leave them just out of sight, just in case.”

You don’t ask why ‘just in case’, you just nod and hold the reins with one hand, your rifle with the other.

The back of the resort has only a small row of windows and they’ve been boarded up for years. That’s still the case as you and Joel peek out from behind the last of the thick trees. Nothing stirs and you can see no tracks as Joel motions for you to tether your horse to the same tree as his, and then you both make your way towards the back entrance. It’s locked when Joel silently presses down on the handle, and with a few quick hand gestures he leads you around the corner of the building, up on the back end of the large viewing balcony. You’re moving silently, the snow muffling your footsteps, but you’re also leaving tracks behind and while Joel’s got his focus forwards, you constantly check you back, making sure no one approaches you from behind.

The large viewing balcony wraps around almost the whole building and a huge glass sliding door leads into a large lounge and bar area. Out of sight from anyone on the inside, Joel risks a glance over the balcony edge and quickly pulls back his head. He waves you back a few steps and you silently retreat until you’re at the locked back door.

“Two armed guards, seven horses, one of them is Frankie’s. Gunner’s body is by the fence,” he whispers through gritted teeth, “We need to go back to Jackson and get more men.”

“What? No, there’s no time, Joel,” you hiss, “We need to take them out and get to Frankie now.”

“There’s at least six of them, we can’t-” Joel says but you interrupt them.

“We take the two guards out silently, then either go in through the front or we get this door open and take the rest from behind.”

“Listen, I know you’re panicking and want to rescue Frankie now, but we need to be strategic about this, or we’re risking our own lives here,” Joel says but you’re already shaking your head, you can feel the quiet rage that always settles in your bones before a fight, it’s building up inside you. Benny called it your ‘mama bear rage’, it makes you act and move with determination as you do what’s needed and take down any threat. The adrenaline set in afterwards, making your hands tremble, but while you were aiming your rifle at infected or raiders, you never flinched. .

“Cover me or go back to Jackson, your choice, Joel,” you say and pull your pistol, flicking the safety off. Before he can protest, you’re on your feet, quietly making your way down the stairs on the side of the balcony, down to the area in front of the main entrance.

The two guards are facing the perimeter fence, about ten feet apart. As you approach, the snow masking your footsteps, you draw your hunting knife. The man flinches as the cold steel meets his neck but it slices him open in a heartbeat and with a gurgling sound he goes limp. The second man turns at the sound, and you quickly aim and fire. He drops, staining the snow crimson red. The gun shot is loud in the quiet mountain area, echoing for miles, and you quickly take cover to the side of the door. Joel’s caught up with you, and he takes up position on the other side. His face is thunderous as he glances at the two men, you know he’ll give you hell about this later, but you don’t care. All that matters is that you need to find Frankie and make sure he’s safe. And if he’s not…you stop your thoughts there. There’s no room for that.

The door swings open and a man steps out, his rifle raised. Joel grabs it and swings him around, slamming him against the wall, his hunting knife deep in between the man's ribs just over his heart. A shout goes up from inside and a second man storms out, gun raised, but your rifle butt hits his temple and he drops like a rock. You don’t have time to check if he’s still alive, so you put a bullet in his head and turn back to the door. You can hear scrambling noises inside, but it seems no one else is prepared to run outside right now.

“Get the prisoner,” someone hisses, “don’t let them get to him.”

That’s all you need to hear, crouching low you peek around the corner for a second before you whip your head back.

“Cover me,” you mouth at Joel, and you see him open his mouth to object just as you turn the corner, still crouched low. One man is hiding badly behind a lounge chair, and opens fire in panic as you step inside. Your first shot hits him in the chest, the second in the gut. You leave him bleeding out behind you as you crouch behind a couch and cover the way forward as Joel comes inside and advances.

“Should be only one man left, I saw him go down that hallway,” you say in a low voice and Joel nods, taking the lead this time. You know he’s pissed at you, but he won’t let you handle this on your own. He clears every doorway before moving down the hall, and as he sweeps the second to last opening, someone from the inside takes a shot at him, the bullet splintering the wood as it hits the door frame two feet from Joel’s head.

“Put down your gun and kick it over here and you’ll get out of this alive,” Joel calls to the man inside and is rewarded by a second shot. This one hits the opposite wall of the hallway.

“You’re only wasting bullets, you’re outnumbered,” Joel calls again.

“Keep him in there, I’m finding Frankie,” you hiss, crouching low and zipping past the open door. Another shot rings out but it goes wide again as the man fires in panic.

You scan the final room but it’s empty, just a small storage room, but there’s a door at the end of the hallway, a padlock keeping it locked. With the butt of your rifle, you smash the lock with two sharp hits, and wrench the door open. Stairs lead down from the doorway into a dark basement and the light switch on the wall does nothing. With a low curse you pull out your flashlight and attach it to the strap of your backpack.

“Frankie,” you call into the darkness, your flashlight only illuminating the stairs, the rest is still pitch black.

“Careful,” Joel warns from behind you, “no telling what’s down there if that door hasn’t been opened in some time.”

“But where else would he be?” you ask, still shining your light into the basement, “our friend back there was heading in this direction.”

Another shot rings out and Joel curses.

“You ok?” you ask, glancing behind you at Joel, who nods.

“Yeah, he just got a little bit too close for comfort that time.”

“Just deal with him, I’m going down. If there were infected down there, they’d be attacking by now.”

“Fuck, just...wait…” Joel hisses but you start descending, gun raised as you take slow steps down the stairs. From above three quick shots ring out and then you hear Joel quickly come down behind you.

“You and I need to have a serious talk about tactics,” he hisses as he reaches the bottom of the stairs at the same time as you.

“Just watch our backs, Joel,” you hiss back, scanning the empty room with your flashlight.

The basement isn’t very big, and has been clearly used as storage since after the outbreak. Thankfully there’s no sign of cordyceps growths as you spot a door at the back. It’s got a heavy looking cross bar and you quickly step over to it, giving the door a light tap. There’s no response from the inside so you holster your gun and lift up the iron beam. Behind you, you hear Joel take a couple of steps closer and you know he’s got his gun at the ready, covering both the door and the stairs.

The door creaks open and something stirs in the dark room as your flashlight illuminates the space. A mix of fear and relief fills your chest as you recognize the shape of the man slumped by the back wall, his arms suspended above his head, keeping him on his toes as his head hangs heavy between his shoulders.

“Frankie,” you gasp, holstering your gun as you run over to him. Joel moves in from behind and swings his own gun and flashlight over the room. It’s empty apart from a broken chair in a corner.

Frankie groans as you reach him, putting your hands on his chest to hold him up, taking some of the weight off his wrists. Even in the dim light you can see that they’re rubbed raw from the rope that’s twisted around them.

“Joel, cut him loose, I can’t reach,” you call over your shoulder and Joel steps over quickly.

“We’ve got you Frankie, stay with me, baby,” you say, gently cupping his cheek to lift his head, trying to make him look at you. He moans again and opens one eye, the other is plastered shut, swollen and bloody from a cut in his eyebrow.

“Can you tell me where you’re hurt? Can you stand?” you ask as Joel saws through the ropes. They give and Frankie drops, only Joel’s strong arms stop him from crashing to the floor. Carefully you both lower Frankie to lie down.

“Cariño…” he mumbles, trying to reach for you, and you take his hand, gently untying his wrists and discarding the rope.

“I’ll make sure there are no surprises,” Joel says, “Do what you can for him quickly, we need to get out of here now.”

He leaves the room and you hear him go up the stairs again as you shrug your backpack off.

“I’m here, Frankie, I’m here,” you say, “I’ve got you, and we’ll get you out of here. Just tell me where you’re hurt, can you walk?”

“My leg,” he groans, grabbing his thigh, and you notice the sloppy bandage soaked through with blood, that explains Frankie’s pale complexion. “Got shot, they stopped the bleeding but it fucking hurts.”

“I’ll clean it out properly once we’re away from here, but I need you to lean on me and walk out of here, ok?”

He nods, closing his eyes briefly, “I knew you’d come,” he mumbles, “I kept telling you to not come but I knew you wouldn’t listen.”

“Yeah, you know me better than that,” you grimace “but don’t pass out on me now, I need to get you on your feet, ok?”

He nods again and seems to pull on some last vestige of energy, groaning with pain as you help him to his feet. He sways, but you hook your arm around his waist and hold him steady as he leans on you. It’s slow going, but as he limps, you get him to the stairs. Joel is standing at the top, keeping watch. As he hears you coming, he moves forward, and Frankie slowly makes his way up the stairs. The effort saps his strength halfway and he stops.

“Wait, just need a second,” he huffs, breathing heavily as he leans on the wall. You tighten your grip on his waist and give him a small hug that he returns.

“How long?” he asks, “I think I passed out for a while and I lost track of time in the dark.”

“Five days since you left Jackson,” you reply, “Almost six, it took me and Joel a day to get here because of the snow.”

Frankie nods before he takes a deep breath, “Ok, lets get up these fucking stairs.”

It takes a few more long minutes before you’re finally at the top, Frankie grabs the door frame with white knuckles and in the last of the daylight filtering in you can see the sheen of sweat on his face. He’s pale and clammy, the blood loss and pain taking a heavy toll on him. You glance down at his leg and see fresh blood seeping through the dirty bandage.

“Just a little bit further, then we’ll get you on a horse, Frankie,” you say, carefully brushing a strand of hair from a cut on his forehead. You can see that he’s taken a beating, bruises are blooming on his face and his bottom lip has been split, blood dried into his beard, and from the way he’s moving, he’s probably taken several punches to his body too, apart from the gunshot.

“We’ve got a problem,” Joel calls in a low voice, just as you get to the doorway into the lounge area again, “riders returning and they’ve seen the bodies outside.”

From beyond the still open door you can hear several voices calling out and you hurry to help Frankie to the floor behind one of the couches.

“Give me a gun,” he hisses, and you hand him your pistol.

“I’ve only got half a mag for it,” you say, “ and two mags for the rifle.”

“Keep it, you’re the better shot,” he replies. He winces as he crouches and looks over the edge of the sofa. You can see that he’s white knuckling the pistol, trying to keep his hand from shaking. You glance over at Joel who looks worried, Frankie will be all but helpless if you have to put up a fight.

Joel has taken cover behind the sofa on the right, and together the three of you are covering the front door. But there are bound to be other entrances and you’re glancing around the big room, there’s no way to know if you’ll be flanked.

“If anyone comes through the door, you shoot first,” Joel says in a low voice to you, “Let's not waste bullets. I’ll follow up if there’s a second guy.”

You give him a thumbs up and look over at Frankie. He’s leaning against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. Outside you can hear the men getting ready to move in, and on impulse you bend down and press your lips to Frankie’s.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth as you pull back, “don’t die on me.”

“I love you too,” he mumbles, peeling his eyes open to look at you, “Just kill those fucker for me, cariño.”

Something clatters on the floor in front of the sofa and you hear Joel yell.

“Down! Get down!”

Frankie grabs you, pulling you down with him and a loud explosion reverberates through the room, your chest, your eardrums, making your ears ring as you cough and gasp. Frankies hands are digging into your arms, keeping you pressed to him until you can look down and meet his wide eyes. He’s covered in white dust and so are you, the only color in his face is a fresh trail of blood from his split eyebrow and his brown eyes.

You can’t hear anything, you’re trying to push yourself up but something heavy is keeping you in place and you’re struggling to get it off you. Frankie shifts under you but you’re still pinning him to the floor. Suddenly the pressure is lifted and you draw a deep breath, but the relief is short lived, blinding sharp pain shoots through your head and everything goes black.

Frankie feels hands grabbing him before he sees them, the dust in his eyes making them sting and water. He blinks frantically to clear them, his ears are ringing and he needs more of his senses to work, he needs to get up and get you to safety. Someone grabs him under his arms and forcefully tugs him backwards, into the light and he can see more clearly, he blinks again and tries to get up but rough hands shove him down. He can’t fucking see where you are, he felt you move just after the explosion, but now he can’t see you.

“Stay the fuck down,” a harsh voice snaps through the ringing in his ears, “Grab the other two, get them outside, this place looks like it’s about to collapse.”

Frankie feels himself getting dragged backwards again, out through the door and into the frigid cold air. The person dragging him drops him on the ground and turns him over, forcing his arms behind his back, ignoring the loud groan he lets slip as the movement shoots pain through his injured leg. Zip ties are tightened around his wrists, rubbing against his already raw skin.

“Put him against the fence,” someone orders and again he’s yanked up by his arms and hauled over to the chain link fence surrounding the property. He manages to sit up as he’s dumped on the ground again, his arms at an awkward angle behind his back. His leg is throbbing and he can feel more blood trickling down into the snow, but he’s pushing it to the back of his mind as he sees you getting dragged out from the building, two men struggling to pull Joel out after you. Your body is limp and the man has a strong grip on your upper arm, pulling you carelessly across the snow. Frankie can see blood dripping from a gash on your head and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s trying to stand up, protesting at the way you’re being handled.

“Leave her alone, get the fuck away from her!” he yells, bracing against the fence as he pushes himself to his feet.

“You should know better by now than to talk back,” the man sneers as he drops you to the ground and yanks your arms behind your back, using zip ties to secure them too.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Frankie spits, and the venom in his voice makes the man flinch as he catches a glimpse of Frankie’s face, eyes black with rage. He finds himself quickly again though and grabs you, shoving you up against the fence a few feet from Frankie, before he steps over to Frankie. He pulls his gun from his waistband and presses the muzzle against Frankie’s temple, forcing him down onto the ground again.

“Who’s she to you then, huh? Girlfriend? Come all the way up here to rescue you?”

Frankie bites back the insults he wants to hurl at the man, it won’t help. Through the pain in his leg, the cut on his head, and the blind panic he’s fighting to control, he tries to regain a cool head, figure out how to get you out of this.

“C’mon, buddy, don’t go all quiet on me now,” the man taunts, “Who is she?” He glances back at you, slumped against the fence, still unconscious, and grins, “Who is she?” he asks again, backing up and now he’s got the barrel of the gun pressed against your temple. “Tell me who she is and I won’t kill her right here on the spot. We don’t need her, keeping three people alive is too much trouble, we only need one of you to talk.”

Frankie can’t think straight, can’t collect his thoughts, all he sees is the cold metal pressed against your head.

“She’s my wife,” he presses out, struggling to get to his feet again, but a man comes up behind him and aims a vicious kick to his knee, and he goes down again.

“Keep her alive, I bet he’ll talk to keep her safe,” the man says, “Kill the other guy.”

The man who’s got the gun holsters it again and looks over at Joel, he’s been ziptied too and shoved up against the fence further down. He’s glaring at the two men aiming their guns at him, “He’s awake, lets see what we can find out from him and then kill him. We’ll stay here tonight and then follow their tracks back to wherever they came from. We’ll keep these two for now.”

As soon as the two men leave, Frankie grits his teeth and forces himself to scoot over to where you're slumped against the fence. If he could only get the zip ties off he’d figure something out, but he needs to wake you up first, make sure you’re ok. He doesn’t like the way you're sagging, it looks like the way you're sitting is stopping you from breathing properly, he nudges you with his uninjured leg, giving you a kick.

“Cariño, wake up,” he whispers, “c’mon, wake up.”

He shoves you with his shoulder, trying to push you upright and he hears you cough, so he shoves you again.

“Wake up,” he hisses sharply, “c’mon, baby, I need you to wake up.”

He hears you groan and finally, he draws a deep breath of relief, you sit up, blinking your eyes as you clear your head. You cough again, spitting blood, there’s a cut on your lip, but it looks shallow, thankfully.

“Frankie…what happened?” you groan, trying to sit up straighter.

“Lean on me, cariño, stay up right,” he shifts so that he can support you as much as possible with his hands tied behind his back, “They had an explosive, dynamite I think, nearly took the fucking roof down.”

“Where’s Joel?” you ask, your head dropping to Frankie’s shoulder as you try to look around.

“Over there, by the fence. Cariño, I need to get out of these zip ties, do you have your knife on you?”

You lift your head, it’s heavy and you’re not sure you can follow what Frankie is saying, as a lump on the side of your head thumps painfully.

“I had my knife…” you mumble and you feel Frankie moving, trying to reach the sheath clipped to your belt.

“It’s still there,” he whispers, “I need you to move so that I can grab it, I’ll cut you free first and then-”

He stops short when a roar goes up from Joel. One of the men is leaning over him and Frankie can’t see what he’s doing, but it’s making Joel howl in pain.

“Just fucking tell us!” the man yells before Joel groans loudly and curses.

“Fuck you!” he snarls, but his voice breaks and Frankie sees him slump forward.

“We need to be fast,” he whispers back to you.

“Frankie, look!” you gasp, and he follows your gaze, the glint of a scope is all he catches before a shot rings out and all hell breaks loose. Two more shots ring out, two men dead in the snow, a third one clutching his shoulder and bolting for cover before another shot takes him out. Suddenly two masked men on horseback come charging in through the open gate, taking the remaining men by surprise. Horses whinny, shots ring out and the guy who dragged you out, runs towards Frankie, but the man on horseback throws himself from the saddle and is on him in a few long strides, tackling him to the ground.

“Fucking get him!” the other man calls from his horse, and Frankie breathes a sigh of relief. The voice is unmistakably Ben Miller’s.

Will only snarls as the man’s neck snaps under his strong hands, slumping into the snow and he doesn’t even give him a second look, just leaves the body on the ground as he rushes over to you and Frankie.

“Fish, hey, you ok?” he asks, instinctively reaching for his first aid kit as he sees Frankie’s leg.

“Get us untied, Will. Thank fucking God you showed up.”

Will quickly cuts the zip ties while Benny clears the rest of the area. From the forest Tommy comes jogging, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder.

“All clear?”

“Yeah, all clear,” Benny replies as he cuts Joel’s zip ties.

“Thanks, man,” he says, “You guys showed up in the nick of time.”

You’re gingerly touching your head, there’s a big lump there and Frankie takes your chin and carefully tilts your head to get a look at it.

“It’s bleeding, but it’s not deep,” he says. “Will, clean it out and patch her up.”

“I will, man, but right now, your legs takes prio, we need to stop this bleeding.” Will is ripping up the fabric and inspecting the wound.

“As soon as you can, we need to move,” Benny says, coming over and watching Will disinfect and wrap clean gauze around Frankie’s leg, “We’ve got spare horses, we should try to get as many of them as possible back to Jackson.”

“We’re on it, got your backpack too, Frankie” Tommy calls from behind him. Joel’s on his feet, cradling his left arm, but helping his brother tether the horses together.

“What happened to Gunnar?” Will asks Frankie, who shakes his head.

“We got attacked during the storm, Gunnar was standing guard but I think they got the drop on him because of all the snow. I woke up with a gun in my face and Gunnar dead by the door.”

“I’ll get his body,” Tommy said, “We’ll get him back to Jackson.”

It doesn’t take Will long to finish giving Frankie’s leg a temporary fix, then he quickly cleans and closes the gash in your head. Frankie groans as Will helps him into the saddle of one of the new horses, and you stay close to him with your own horse. He’s very pale and you can tell he doesn’t really have much energy left as he sways in the saddle.

“Will, we won’t make it back to Jackson before nightfall, what’s your plan?” you ask, knowing the older Miller brother always has two or three back-up plans.

“The old restaurant down by Blacktails Pond, we stay there overnight.”

“Ok, good, we need somewhere safe to rest for a few hours.”

Will glances over at Frankie, who doesn’t seem to be aware of the conversation. The last of his reserves were used when trying to get out of the zip ties, now, in relative safety, he is slipping back into the stupor you found him in.

Setting a steady pace, you all begin the long trek down the side of the mountain. You stay close to Frankie’s horse, eventually taking hold of its reins as Frankie slumps in the saddle.

“Will, hold up,” you call, halting the group, “Joel, take my horse, I need to ride with Frankie.”

Joel’s been riding just in front of Frankie, now he looks back at the pale looking man who seems barely aware of his horse stopping. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open and there’s a sheen of sweat on his skin that, considering how cold it is, shouldn’t be there.

Will gets off his horse too and gives you a hand up on Frankie’s horse. You settle in behind him, taking the reins from him as you wrap an arm around his waist and make him lean back against you.

“I’ve got you, Frankie,” you tell him in a low voice, and he gives you a barely perceptible nod. Will’s got his hand on Frankie’s uninjured leg, and he’s looking worried.

“Don’t let him fall asleep, keep him awake,” he says, and the concern on his face makes you scared. Will is the one who is the most experienced medic, working with his wife Diana in the Jackson clinic, if he’s worried about the state of Frankie, it’s not a good sign. You don’t say anything but meet his eyes and he knows what you’re silently asking, the fear is clear on your face.

“We need to get to shelter fast,” he says, “Just keep him awake.”

You nod and take a steadier hold of Frankie, finding his hand and wrapping your own around his fingers, squeezing them tight.

“Keep holding my hand, Frankie, don’t let go,” you tell him, tucking your chin into his shoulder as you nudge the horse into a walk.

“Never,” he mumbles, and you feel his hand squeeze yours, it’s light, but it’s something and you cling to that as Will leads the group towards the old restaurant.

Wyoming winters days aren’t long, it’s pitch black and late by the time you get to the restaurant. The temperature has dropped and you can feel Frankie shivering under your arms. You squeeze his hand but he doesn’t respond, and you urge the horse forward. There’s enough of you to risk a fire once you’re inside the restaurant, Frankie needs to get warm, there’s no other way.

While Benny and Will clear the restaurant and make sure it’s safe, Tommy helps Frankie off the horse and takes both Joel and Tommy holding him up to get him inside the old, dilapidated building. You bring in the horses and leave them tethered in the spacious foyer and then hurry after the men.

This is a well used safe house for the Jackson patrols so it’s well stocked for any eventualities and the windows have been blacked out. You’ve spent several nights here, even days, when you’ve been caught by a surprise storm in the treacherous Wyoming seasons.

You quickly begin building a fire in the big fireplace at the back of the front room. There’s always a good stack of firewood next to it but only when there’s enough of you to properly guard the place do you risk lighting it. Now you desperately need it, Frankie needs to get warm, get fluids in him to combat the blood loss, get his leg properly cleaned before it gets infected. You’re hoping it’s only the blood loss making him unresponsive, if he’s got a serious infection, you’ll need to get him back to Jackson and you’re not sure he can handle that.

You glance over at where Joel and Tommy have put him down on a mattress on the floor near the fireplace. Honestly, you’re not sure he’d even survive the rest of the ride back to Jackson like this, but you try to shove the thought to the back of your mind. It doesn’t work though, it still sits there, making your hands shake and your eyes burn. Your vision gets blurry as you hastily light the dry logs, tossing more on as the fire roars to life. Putting up the fire guard, you grab Frankie’s mattress and slide it closer to the warmth.

You kneel next to his head and take hold of his hand, squeezing it tightly, “Stay with me, Frankie, come on, you can’t go to sleep yet,” you urge him as you prop him up against your lap. “Benny, he needs fluids, melt plenty of snow over the fire.”

“Sure, I’m on it,” he replies and jogs after Tommy who’s taken up the first guard shift by the entrance.

Will kneels next to Frankie’s leg and starts unraveling the bandage, “I’ve got alcohol to clean it out but I don’t know if the bullet is still in there. I need to check and it won’t be pleasant for him,” he looks up at Joel who’s come over to the fire, “I need the two of you to keep him as still as possible while I check.”

Joel kneels next to Frankie and takes hold of his leg, keeping him steady while you hold his hand. Frankie’s breathing deeply and you can see him steeling himself, this won��t be the first time he’s had to suffer painful first aid out in the field.

Will holds a pair of forceps in the fire for a few seconds and then douses them in alcohol before leaning down over the gunshot wound in Frankie’s thigh.

“Ok, Fish, you know what I have to do and it’s not gonna be pleasant, just keep still for me, ok?”

“Payback for when I pulled that shrapnel from you back in -05?” Frankie snorts weakly and Will chuckles.

“Something like that. Ok, here goes, I’ll be as quick as possible.”

You’re not squeamish around injuries and blood any more, but you can’t watch as Will begins to search for the bullet inside Frankie’s thigh. Instead you look down at Frankie and concentrate on letting him squeeze your hand tight. He’s grinding his teeth, biting back groans as droplets of sweat begin to form on his forehead.

“Stay with me, Frankie,” you mumble, and he looks up at you, his fingernails digging into your palm. You keep your eyes locked on his as you see Will angle the forceps from the corner of your eye, “Just stay with me, baby,” you whisper, squeezing his hand back and he gives you a small nod, the lines deep between his eyebrows.

“I can feel it, I’ve almost got it, Fish,” Will says, and Frankie moans loudly, just as the bullet slides out of his leg. Fresh blood flows out, but Will drops the forceps and quickly presses down with a compress. Frankie is panting hard, taking deep breaths as he curses in Spanish under his breath.

“That’s the worst part done,” Joel says, picking up the bullet, “and it looks like the bullet is whole, no pieces left behind in you.”

“Not the worst part I’m afraid,” Will grimaces, “I’m sorry, Fish, but I have to clean it out with alcohol. You ready?”

“Just get it over with,” Frankie growls, tightening his grip on your hand as Will pours the liquid over the wound. He can’t stop the yell of pain that rips through him and his body trembles.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he roars, slamming his empty fist down onto the floor. You bend down and stroke his forehead, pushing back the damp curls that are plastered to his skin, squeezing his hand tight. He’s sweating bullets now and whimpering as Will wipes around the wound.

“Almost done, baby,” you whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss to his temple. He inhales deeply through his nose, holding his breath as the alcohol burns.

Will puts down the bottle and inspects the wound, “It looks good, Fish, it doesn’t look infected. You’ve lost a lot of blood but you haven’t passed out and the bleeding has stopped. We need to get plenty of fluid in you, Benny’s melting snow so you need to keep drinking. We’ll get some food in you too and then you should get a good night’s sleep with your girl, and you’ll feel better tomorrow. We’ll see if we can ride back, or if we need to stick it out one more day.”

Frankie nods, relaxing his grip on your hand, and you carefully flex it behind your back. You’re pretty sure he’s bruised it, but you won’t say anything.

“Thanks, Will,” he mutters, leaning back against you, and sighing deeply, “some water would be great, I’m fucking parched.”

“I’ve got ya, Fish,” Benny says and hands him a canteen, “And I’ve got dinner heating up, I’ll bring you a bowl when it’s done.”

Frankie nods as he guzzles the water, gasping as he comes up for air.

Joel gives Frankie a clap on the shoulder and goes to check on Tommy as Will cleans off the forceps and packs it away.

“Let me check your other cuts, give them a clean” he says to Frankie, “ and then I’ll check on you too,” he looks over at you and points to your split lip that’s swollen and bruised.

Frankie only sighs and puts down the canteen, letting Will tilt his head towards the light of the fire.

“So what happened?” he asks as he dabs alcohol on the cut above Frankie’s eyebrow, the one that’s caused his eye to swell shut.

“Everything looked normal when we got to the resort, nothing out of place. The gate was locked as usual,” Frankie says, “Then the storm hit and we got snowed in but we still took turns keeping watch. The plan was to leave on the third day once the storm cleared. The third night, I took the first watch, then Gunnar took over half way through the night. The next thing I know, I woke up with a gun pressed to my head.”

“They killed Gunnar straight away?” Will asks and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, they must’ve caught him unawares, I never heard any gunshots. They dragged me out and showed me his body, told me they’d kill me too if I didn’t tell them where we’d come from. When I didn’t tell them, they beat me up, and then shot my leg.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, and he feels it, giving you a small smile and squeezing your hand back.

“It’s ok, cariño, you got to me in time, I knew you would.”

“I was worried when you didn’t come back after the storm,” you say, “I made Joel come out with me because Will, Benny and Tommy had already left.”

“Yeah, how come you guys showed up?” Frankie asks Will just as Benny drops down beside you with two steaming bowls of what looks like camp stew.

“Drink more water and eat this,” he interrupts, shoving the bowl into Frankie’s hand. He takes it and gives Benny a grateful nod. Will moves over to you, and starts dabbing alcohol on your cuts.

“The settlement we went out to check on, they’d been attacked,” he says, “and we found a couple of survivors who said they were headed to Willard’s Rest, so we left a few guards behind and headed over there. Just as we approached, we saw a group of them ride off towards the resort. Tommy, Benny and I tracked them, the others stayed at Willard’s to take care of the rest of them.”

“Joel and I took down six of them when we got there,” you say, “but as we were getting Frankie out, the rest of them showed up. They threw dynamite into the building and nearly took it down. It was lucky you showed up when you did.”

“We had a bad feeling when we saw where they were heading,” Will replies, “We knew Frankie and Gunnar had gone up there before the storm.”

“So that was the last of them, at the resort?” Frankie asks between mouthfuls of stew.

“Hopefully,” Will says, “We’ll find out more from the rest of the patrol when we get back to Jackson,” he replies, getting to his feet, “Listen, we’ll talk more tomorrow, I need you to eat and then drink the rest of that canteen and then sleep. You’re gonna feel like shit with the blood loss for a while so get as much rest and energy as you can.”

“Alright, Ironhead,” Frankie says, giving Will a sloppy salute that makes the tall blonde smirk and shake his head.

“If he’s cracking jokes, he’s feeling better, take care of him, hermana,” he tells you, “make him sleep.”

Benny follows Will and you set down your empty bowl, handing Frankie the canteen of water. He downs the rest of it and then lies back as you get your sleeping bags, thankful that Tommy thought to grab Frankie’s bag from the resort. Zipping them together you help Frankie wiggle into it as he curses at the pain from his leg.

When he’s comfortable you curl up next to his good side and rest your head on his chest. Underneath your ear you can hear his heartbeat. It’s faster than normal, racing as his body struggles to cope with the blood loss, but at least it’s strong and steady now. Frankie puts his arm around your back and pulls you closer as you rest your hand on his waist.

“You scared me, Frankie,” you mumble, “I almost-”

“Sshh…” Frankie whispers, his hand caressing your back, his large palm warming you, “Don’t think about ‘the almost’, I’m here, you found me and you got me out.”

You nod against his chest, but your mind is still racing.

“I wish…” you begin, but trail off and Frankie moves his head to look down at you.

“What do you wish, cariño?” he asks softly.

You sigh, trying to control the tears that are burning your eyes, but you can’t suppress the small sob that escapes.

Frankie immediately shifts, wincing slightly, and wraps both arms around you, one hand cupping your cheek as his thumb rubs across your skin.

“Talk to me, hermosa,” he whispers, gently kissing at the tears that are slipping down your cheek.

“I…I wish…I wish this whole thing was just a bad dream, that it didn’t happen,” you murmur as Frankie continues to caress your cheek.

“The patrols are always a risk,” he says gently, “But it’s what keeps Jackson safe.”

“I don’t mean just this, I mean all of it, the outbreak, the infection, all of it,” you say, your voice shaky as you lean into his warm hand, “I miss our life before this, it was so short, I wish we could’ve had a normal life together.”

Tears well up faster as your mind gets stuck on the image of the house you’d signed for just before the outbreak, all the plans you had for it, the pool, a hammock, barbecue in the backyard, painting Lucia’s room, Frankie making rough sketches of the bed frame he was going to build.

“Cariño…” Frankie whispers, hugging you closer as he kisses your forehead, “I miss all of that too, I miss Lucia every day, I miss all the memories we never got to make together, with her, and just you and me, I miss it all the time,” he leans back a little so that he can look at you, tear stained and red eyed, “But I’ve told you before, I’ll take any life with you, and if it means I have to live through the apocalypse, so be it. You and Jack are the only ones that matter. ”

“I wish we could’ve had a proper wedding,” you mumble, closing your eyes as Frankie tucks you in closer to him, his hand finding the back of your head and lightly caressing your hair, “In our new house back in Arlington, get Will do make that pork shoulder he did at Denny’s cabin.”

“I know, bebita,” Frankie says in a low voice, “I wish we could’ve had that too.”

You listen to his heartbeat as he continues to stroke your hair. After a few minutes his hand goes still and you hear his breathing even out as he falls asleep. It takes you longer to get your mind to shut down, the image of Frankie strung up in the basement, head hanging heavy between his shoulders, fills your vision when you close your eyes. The fear you felt in that moment, those few seconds when you didn’t know if he was alive or not, it seems to grip your heart even though he’s safe with you now. You hate how tenuous your grip on life is now, and how used to it you’ve become. You both go on patrols regularly, and although you’re still worried when he’s gone, and you know he’s worried about you, over the years the risk of something happening seems to have diminished. Or maybe you’ve been lucky. And then this happens, and suddenly the fragility of your life with Frankie and Jack is thrown into stark relief. You came so very close to losing Frankie this time, and the fear that has simmered down during the safe years in Jackson comes back with full force.

With a sigh you bury your head against his neck, breathing him in, as he mutters something in his sleep and tightens his hold on you. He honestly reeks of sweat and blood, but you don’t care, he’s alive and warm underneath you and that’s all that matters. You try to memorize this feeling, his smell, his heartbeat and arms around you. One day he’ll be gone, or you’ll be gone, and then you want to remember this, being safe in his arms as he sleeps peacefully next to you.

Part 2

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller

25 notes · View notes

666writingcafe · 3 days ago

Text

Sneaking Away

A Few Weeks Later

AKA: Anna Lets Her Character Bias Show

Content Warning: NSFW for sexy biting

The formal part of RAD's opening ceremony goes smoothly. Everyone's speeches--including mine--were well received, and the ribbon gets cut to the sound of camera flashes. Inside is where the party truly begins. Drinks are flowing, people are mingling, and hips are moving as the DJ plays popular tunes through various speakers. Everyone's having a great time.

Well, everyone except for me.

Lucifer's been distant ever since we've returned from Cocytus. If it were just from me, I'd be handling it better, but even his brothers have received the cold shoulder from him. I know better than to push him to reveal his feelings before he's ready, but at the same time this night was to be an unofficial goodbye before Solomon and I returned to our timeline, and the fact that I haven't heard a single peep out of Lucifer...

I would much rather sit through a three-hour lecture with him yelling at me than the continuous radio silence. It also doesn't help that he seemingly disappears into thin air as soon as the two ribbon pieces hit the ground and that no one else knows where he went.

"Go."

Solomon places a hand on my shoulder and leans in close so that other people can't hear him.

"What are you talking about?" I whisper.

"You've had closure with the others. You deserve to do the same with him. I'll make sure you aren't followed. Now, go, before it's too late."

Ducking out a semi-hidden door at the back of the auditorium, I reflect on Solomon's words. I've been able to have conversations with the other brothers about my true identity. Some had more questions than others, and some held grunges for a few days, but at least they were willing to talk about it.

Unlike the eldest, who seems more content with hiding.

Speaking of which, where could he be?

I'm currently sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the night sky.

Of course. It's probably the most quiet part of this entire building at the moment. Thankfully, I know where its hatch is. Scaling the building like a mountain goat would bring too much attention.

~~~

I know Lucifer senses my presence. If my scent didn't give me away, then the noisy hatch surely did. And yet he does nothing to acknowledge it. I suppose I should take this as a win; he hasn't told me to fuck off, not even when I walk over and stand near him.

We lean against the railing and look out on the landscape in silence. As much as I want to say something, I know that he has to be the one to break it. He's always had difficulty revealing his emotions, especially when he's not under the influence of alcohol or serums. I'd only cause him to put up even more barriers if I confront him about it.

And so I wait.

The clock in a nearby tower chimes eleven times.

"What are we?"

Lucifer's sudden question causes me to jump.

"W-What?"

"In your timeline. I'm aware of the pacts, but is there anything outside of that?"

"I...I don't understand--" Lucifer quickly turns his head to look at me, his eyes nearly glowing.

"What am I to you, MC?" His voice wavers. Is he trying not to cry?

I take a deep breath. Out of all the things he could have fixated on, I didn't think this would have been what he latched on to.

"Do you remember me telling you about the man I left behind to be here?"

"The one that you would have married if circumstances were different?" I nod my head.

"I was talking about you, Lucifer." A brief pause to allow him to process my words. "Does that answer your question?"

"It certainly makes me feel better about doing this."

"Doing what--" In a blink of an eye, Lucifer closes the gap between us, wrapping his arms around me and pressing his lips against mine in a passionate kiss that threatens to take my breath away.

He steps back a moment later and grabs my hand, his face flushed.

"Let's get out of here."

"But what about--"

"We gave our speeches. As far as I'm aware, the rest of this evening is just a party celebrating Diavolo's success, and I don't want to pretend to like people that wanted us gone only a few weeks ago. Besides, my brothers' antics will keep everyone occupied enough that our presence won't be missed, so that'll allow us plenty of time to ourselves."

"You know that Solomon and I were planning on leaving once things wrapped up here, right?"

"Don't worry; we'll come back. I just..." A sigh. "Look, I know I've been distant towards you lately, and I want to make it up to you. Please, MC."

I've always wondered how Simeon came up with some of his characters' dialogue. How much of it was strictly was from his imagination, and how much of it was things he believed certain people would say if they acted out his scenes in real life?

How much of it was him indirectly influencing the future?

"I still remember the day I first met you, almost like it was yesterday." I find myself murmuring. "The way you fixed your eyes on me, that noble yet sincere gaze..."

"The moment I beheld it, I was transfixed." I didn't think Lucifer still had access to my memories, so how is he able to recite the next line? "And that was it. There was no going back. I fell for you completely, body and soul." He brings the top of my hand to his lips, kissing it softly.

And then suddenly we were no longer on the rooftop, but instead inside Lucifer's room.

"I apologize, MC, but I can't hold back any longer."

He quickly picks me up and sets me on his bed, saddling me as his lips feverishly touch mine. Our hands soon begin wandering, taking in as much of each other as we possibly can. His mouth travels down to my neck, where he bites down on it and begins sucking.

It is common for demons to drink each other's blood when they get intimate.

Something I've never been able to do as a human, but here...

My mouth latches onto Lucifer's shoulder, my teeth sharp enough in this form to pierce his skin. His blood's quite rich, almost like a deep dark chocolate.

But the low, drawn-out moan that emanates from him is what causes warmth to spread all over my body.

"I want you," he murmurs. "I need you."

His expression is nearly identical to the one that Diavolo wore when Lucifer was in his former angel form in Cocytus.

Like I'm the most beautiful, magnificent creature he's ever beheld.

"Then take me."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me lucifer

23 notes · View notes

solkver · 23 hours ago

Text

nct wish when you fall asleep in class 𖡎

#%! headcanons under the cut

#%! highschool au, based off of steady mv

content warning! playful teasing, super mild profanity, fluff!

pronouns! they/them [gender neutral]

i. HEADCANONS

oh sion ! you don't really share much classes together, so most of the time he'll arrive at your last lecture and peek by the door only to find you snoozing off 𖡎 he'll take a couple pictures and sit next to you until you wake up on your own 𖡎 biggest belly laugh at the marks on your face from laying on your arm 𖡎 will definitely either give you a piggy back ride or carry your things for you otw home 𖡎 bringing you home = sleepover! he's raiding your home now 𖡎 let's you sleep in and probably skims over your homework so he can help you when u wake up

maeda riku ! you probably only share club activities w him or other extra curricular things so when he finds you dead asleep in the club room or in the storage room of the volleyball court, you just know never to sleep again! 𖡎 an absolute menace, he'll either bang the door loud enough to startle you awake, or he'll tickle you awake 𖡎 can't be caught sleeping around a hyper riku bc he WILL make it a you problem for not matching his energy (affectionately) 𖡎 but he's the sweetest boy ever when he wants to be! 𖡎 he'll drape you with his blazer and snooze off next to you as well, skipping training entirely

tokuno yushi ! like riku, u guys probably only share club activities together, so it's not often he sees you 𖡎 he'll catch you in the corner of the club room laying on the ground, head on your backpack as a makeshift pillow dead asleep and stare at you for a good minute to make sure you're still breathing lmao 𖡎 he does NAWT wake u up, best believe he puts his backpack next to yours and hits the hay 𖡎 the club room has a shrine of both of you's picture lazing off on the floor inside the club room from how often it happens

kim jaehee ! I've always headcanon-ed jaehee to share a couple classes w their significant other so he's around you almost the whole day! 𖡎 it would be you guys' afternoon lecture when jaehee notices you've stopped scribbling on his palm and see your cheek mushed on your notes 𖡎 the first time he witnessed you fall asleep in class had him shaking in his bones bc boy does not want to get in trouble but he'd since learned that he'd much rather get detention than deal with your grumpy ass 𖡎 he definitely stands an open book in-front of your head so your professor doesn't see you asleep bc he's just so sweet like that 𖡎 I love him so bad

hirose ryo ! I just know his ass will not let you sleep in class 𖡎 he'll pinch your thigh or jab you w his elbow real hard to wake you up before your teacher discovers you knocking off 𖡎 he deadass has those anti-drowsy inhalers and shoves one in your nose when he sees your eyes blinking much much slower 𖡎 but when you do doze off and you're already too far into dreamland before he notices, he'll tell your teacher you fill ill so he can walk around the campus w you in a lame excuse of going to the clinic 𖡎 sleeps w you on the clinic beds lmfao

fujinaga sakuya ! his ass IS the one sleeping 😭😭 he's already knocked out before you even get to feel the drowsiness kick in 𖡎 either dead like a log on your shoulder or cheeks squashed on his desk 𖡎 you stay awake as much as u can on periods sakuya is out of touch with the world bc you both know at least one of you should take down notes 𖡎 and whenever you're the one napping in class, he makes sure to rat on you to the prof 𖡎 KIDDING 𖡎 best believe he's taking gibberish notes down bc he's to busy staring at your sleeping face and taking pictures of your drool getting on your open book 𖡎 giggling his face off with his loud ass 'hehehehehehe' when you get scolded for sleeping bc he has not once been caught dozing off in class and somehow you always do

author's note! I wrote this sitting down on the toilet so if this isn't biblically accurate nct wish I apologize I was quite literally pulling this out if the my ass LMAO anyways riku come back home you sexy furry piece of shit

— 明治さん、あなたのサービスで。

#%!&; ` solkver #kpop #nct wish #headcanons #oh sion #maeda riku #tokuno yushi #kim jaehee #kim daeyoung #hirose ryo #fujinaga sakuya #nct wish imagines #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #nct wish x reader #nct wish x female reader #nct wish x male reader #nct wish x gn!reader

28 notes · View notes

mayonesamitch · 3 days ago

Text

Lets yap about Geode and why it's practically canon!

Contains spoilers

Okay I've been wanting to write this for a while but never had time to. However, winter break just started! I should be working on some unfinished school work but I don't care about school. So here it goes! This is basically why Geode (Cole x Geo) is canon/will be canon.

So first, I wanted to talk about how Cole never really had an actual love interest up until now. Sure, in season 3, there was the stupid love triangle thing with him, Jay, and Nya, but it was confirmed by the writers that Cole never really had feelings for Nya and was just confused by the attention she gave to him. I'd also like to assume that P.I.X.A.L's perfect match detector thing also threw him off. (I'm just gonna call her Pixal for the remainder of this, yes she'll be mentioned again)

He also never had much of a romantic relationship with Vania. Sure, they were close and had a great friendship together, but that's where it ends, just a friendship. They never really did anything more. And when it comes to Ninjago, they make the love interest very obvious.

The writers are also very aware that they haven't given Cole a love interest. They make subtle jokes about it, like in this scene. While the ninja are hanging out with their significant other (expect for Lloyd who had a love interest but uh... we saw what happened the Harumi...) except for Cole. He's instead looking at the cake that the woman is holding up. The writers of the show also have said that his love interest is cake as a joke, so they're aware that they haven't given him a love interest yet.

They also once posted this on the Lego.com website as a poll. This might be far fetched but to me it implies that there might be someone else in the future that will be Cole's lover. I know that it says girlfriend but it doesn't mean that the someone Cole is yet to meet can't be a guy. Maybe Cole is a bisexual too we can't take that completely off the table either.

Now, let's talk about the actual ship of Geo × Cole. Geo is not as social as the other and is more timid. He keeps more to himself. However, with Cole, he's an open book. He raised a whole family with him. They're also rather close. Cole has never been that close to anyone other than the other ninja, and even so, it still took him a while to get used to them. So him being so close to Geo as fast as he did is quite attached to Geo. And if that isn't gay then I don't know what it is.

Now this is the part where I talk about my personal favorite and probably one of the most canon ships ever in Ninjago, PixZane. (Pixal x Zane, told you I was gonna mention Pixal again 😉) It is very obvious that they love each other and is canon that they're dating. So, why did I mention them? Well, they never explicitly say, "We're dating." Instead they say that they're "compatible." Zane also says that she has "Half of my (his) heart" Which all of those are all just says of saying that they're in love and dating. Also they both have a strong attachment together. I mean, Zane is desperate for Pixal in Dragons Rising, and in the comic, Zane's Pixal Project, he's so desperate for her and is willing is sacrifice himself for her. In fact, Pixal only says, "I love you." In Crystalized. Took them only 8 years to finally hear something less nindroid-y but that just proves my point more. Yeah, with all of that plus the stuff I didn't mention, they're dating at least.

So why did I mention all of this? Well, a common rule for story writing is, "Show, don't tell." Very common in real life to, like phrases like, "Your actions speak more that your words." So they would apply that rule to a ship like Geode. I mean, the hints are very loud, yet sneaky in a way. Enough for me to apply the gay label but not enough for someone to say it's 100% without a doubt canon.

I'd also like to say that the writers of the show hype up and imply this ship more than a little. One of the writers of Ninjago posted this on his Instagram. The writer is also gay so that's some extra points. (I got it from here.) Also I just realized that the little effect thing around their hands make a heart, so I'll add that to the evidence list. Also this clip, Doc Wyatt seems to support the ship. So I'm pretty sure the writers are planning something big for them, maybe... a kiss? Who knows?

Now, in the end, it is a gay ship, so they have to be much more vivid about it or else the show could get banned in certain places around the world if they do make it canon. However, other cartoons do have canon LGBTQ+ representation that's more prominent. (Ex. The Loud House - Clyde's dads (Howard and Harold McBride) + Luna is a bisexual, Adventure Time - Princess Bubblegum and Marceline) Plus, there is some LGBTQ+ throughout the show which I talk about more here. (Shameless plugging XD) So it wouldn't be out of character for Ninjago add a gay ship in the series. Not only will it give them more open doors since it shows how they're willing to add queer relationships into the show, so they might add some more queer relationships. It would also make Cole the first canon LGBTQ+ ninja of the main 6.

Okay, well I think that's about all I have to say about the most gay characters in Ninjago. Also thank you for all the likes + reblogs on my queer Ninjago post, I like yapping about this show clearly, especially the queer part cause I'm part of the LGBTQ+ community so I might as well spread my pride. I literally love Geode so much please make it canon in my life.

Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys their winter break, gets lots of presents this year for Christmas, and stay up for New Years. Make sure to stay healthy and have lots of fun with family and friends.

23 notes · View notes

lanternlit · 3 days ago

Text

smokedanced is now lanternlit

And with this I return, so excited to be writing again! Further changes...

I have moved Castiel and the Thirteenth Doctor here from their previous blogs (waywardfeathered/dochaes). If you were just followed, we were probably mutuals there! Hi! I plan to slowly follow everyone I had ongoing interactions with or asks I planned to reply to, on those blogs. Slowly, because I want to double check people's guidelines pages first. If you follow me back here, I plan to automatically reply to our things on this blog :)

I've rewritten my guidelines. The contents are mostly the same, but a lot has been reworded, and some minor things have been added or deleted, so it'd be awesome if you could give them a read. I guess this is technically optional, since they're mostly the same as before.

A few muses have been dropped. Kenna de Poitiers, Jeremy Bradshaw, Juliet Burke and Tyrion Lannister have been dropped as muses.

New muses have been added. Cas and Thirteen have been moved here from their previous blogs, and I have added Fifteenth Doctor as a muse. Jake, whom I added, um, nearly a year ago... finally has an about page, now, as well. You all get free shots to fire at me about how I had an OC among my muses for a year almost without any kind of an about page.

Some muses' stories have been altered. Namely, Mary Stuart is now a modern AU based muse, and I don't write her in Reign canon at least for the time being. Ella Finnegan has had her story altered, as well, basically the way her psychic abilities work have been changed. The latter will be easy to retcon in any ongoing interactions.

All muses have at least a dossier and a character premise page. This one is something I am proud of myself for, but also fuck, I got so frustrated trying to write the character premise pages that I can see it when I look at them, what with some of them having the most simple sentence structure and all, but I figured... better some information for my characters than none??? Everyone has something, now! Also, no more half the muses only having placeholder images on their pages! PRAISE THE ABSOL... I mean, my self-discipline. Because these past weeks I have just wanted to COME BACK AND WRITE, but I made myself have those tabs for all the characters first.

It is currently nearing 2am so pleaaaaase excuse me if this post is chaotic. Hi dash love you dash.

Lots of muses have been switched between their activity status. Current list goes:

primary muses: cas, hannibal, iris, izzy, jillian, the tardis, thirteen, will

secondary muses: edi, ed, ella, ever, garrus, lucius, mary, tali, ten

tertiary muses: charlie, clara, dean, river

test muses: chloe, eloise, fifteen, hurley, jake

Speaking of, right, Eloise has been released from "I need to rewatch Bridgerton first!" jail, and she's open for interactions sksksksksk

Guys, I don't remember what else I was meant to say.

The blog has had a bit of a makeover. Nobody look at my navigation page, the only thing I edited there so far was the colour scheme, it is outdated. I know me saying not to look is going to make people look but what can I do. Look at my muse directory and guidelines if you want to look at something, you sneaky sneaks.

The interest tracker has been updated. Chloe and Jake have been finally added on it. Cas and Thirteen have also been added on it. Fifteen has- you understand.

The tracker is the same one I've had before, but if you are interested in any of the added muses, please edit your responses. If you haven't done the tracker before, this would also be a very nice time to do it!

Going forward, I am going to go through my unaswered ooc messages and reply to people, I know there are a lot of you who have been on hold with plotting. Thank you so much for your patience. I am also going to start replying to things again, obviously. Now that my muse pages all have at least something on them, I can continue to work on them while my main focus for the blog is generally, well, roleplay. The pages being in such a state of WIP was a huge source of executive dysfunction for me.

I also plan to re-read everyone's guidelines just to make sure neither of us have edited ours so that we don't match anymore, but that'll not be done overnight with all of you.

I hope the url change isn't a huge inconvenience. If you could give this post a like, if you've seen it, that'd be awesome of you, though not at all necessary! I am genuinely very excited to be here again.

#; outofglow #long post is long #i don't feel like any of this should be under a readmore #i'll tag as long post when i reblog it after a few times though #hiii #i've been writing so much code recently i nearly begun to type this in html as well...#finger guns

16 notes · View notes

lunanoc · 1 year ago

Note

dare i say…..1, 6, 8, and 17 for the ask meme?

ohh please do, i have so many opinions about dmbj. that being said, obligatory disclaimer, all of these are very much my subjective opinions, not fact. fandom discourse ahead, you’ve been warned

for the ‘choose violence ask game’:

1. the character everyone gets wrong

if i had to be completely honest, my hot take would be that technically a distressingly large portion of the vocal dmbj fandom gets pretty much all the characters wrong to the point it’s actually kind of concerning, but if i had to choose one character in particular, it’d have to be xiaoge.

and look. i understand that a number of people have only watched the dramas and aren’t particularly inclined to read the books because of the time commitment that comes with so much material to get through, and that’s fair. but it’s very telling when someone only goes off of the dramas to shape their characterizations (and even then, i could have a hotter take that the dramas, exceptions aside, all have the broad strokes of the characters down with only details that change, so there’s really no excuse) because in the books, xiaoge is repeatedly described as being indifferent and very much disinterested and untouched by what goes on around him. xiaoge choosing to invest himself in something or someone is very much something noteworthy coming from him. and it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have emotions, but it does mean he’s a very nuanced character to explore when it comes to them and how they’re displayed.

it’s incredibly frustrating to see how many people, often times for the sake of a trope or a ship dynamic, make him one dimensional. either he’s a cold, almost brutal s*x predator, or he’s a tortured angsty soul that’s meek and emotionally vulnerable the moment he trusts someone enough, or he’s dramatically waxing poetic in his head about his feelings for X Y or Z, or possibly worst of all, he’s a mindless one-fit-for-all doll that caters to whatever ship he’s been placed in.

it’s not like i’m the authority on characterization, everyone has their biases, myself included, but the key to understanding xiaoge is to remember that he’s an old soul, disconnected from the world and people around him both through his particular circumstances and through the way he’s been consistently dehumanized practically since he was a baby. his sense of self is in shambles, and only begins a slow (re)construction through his slow-growing friendship with wu xie and pangzi. of course he has his doubts and fears—the whole evolution from ‘i have no connection to this world’ to ‘my one connection to this world is you’ doesn’t come out of nowhere—but those doubts aren’t expressed in conventional ways, just like any love or affection he might feel will never be thought of or expressed in grandiose or over the top ways. a lot of the things he feels just are, and it doesn’t make them less true or complex just because xiaoge isn’t one to overanalyze things and accepts and is secure in them so long as he’s been made aware of them. he’s also assertive in his judgment of things in general. i could go on and honestly i’m not sure i’m even touching the tip of the iceberg as far as fandom treatment of xiaoge goes but just. yeah.

6. which ship fans are the most annoying

this. is a very loaded question with a very loaded answer. i keep feeling like i need to make disclaimers before i say things like “if you like this it’s fine” because yes it absolutely is. i’m not telling anyone a ship is bad. but if i have to point fingers, there’s a group of people who happen to be very into particular ships with whom i’ve had. less than great interactions. so this isn’t a judgment of the ships so much as it’s a reflection of my experiences with a lot of people who happen to be vocal about liking them.

and in my time in the dmbj fandom, no group of people has been more aggravating to me than ls shippers and lc character shippers in general. and tbh i can extend that to the people who make shipping every possible character combination under the sun their entire personality. again it’s fine if you like any of these things. but that i’ve personally experienced, too many of these people manage to often offer the unholy combination of being extremely pushy about their preferences even when someone politely expresses they’re not into them, and having the worst takes imaginable on any given character they claim to like. it’s to the point where while i initially had no particularly strong feelings about ls as a character, i genuinely do not like him now and do not want to hear about him in general. and tbh by extension i’m not the biggest fan of lc and his characters just because i unfortunately associate him with these people and their behavior. you can imagine how much i enjoy the fact that these are also the group of people who’ve effectively silently bullied a number of other people out of fandom spaces enough that they’re now the face of the dmbj fandom on a number of platforms.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

once again this could apply to so many things. but i think the one thing that gets me the most is the very widespread opinion that dmbj as a canon is inconsistent and full of plot holes and makes no sense. i’ve had people tell me that dmbj canon doesn’t exist because the canon is so incoherent and incohesive, and that the fandom likes it that way because it’s more fun. and that’s just a preference for fanon over canon that’s being justified by passing it off as a fact for some reason.

it’s fine to have preferences, but i draw the line at intentional misinformation. and once again, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, it’s telling of people having largely engaged with the dramas over the books, because the books, while imperfect and sometimes leaving things unanswered (and even then that’s becoming a moot point seeing as npss is tying up a lot of those loose ends in the more recent arc of the story that predictably over half of the fandom is unaware of because it hasn’t been adapted), very rarely end up having major discrepancies. the books, which sorry to say are very much the definitive canon, are actually very cohesive both for plot and characters, and the loose ends, while frustrating, are never to the detriment of the plot. nothing is openly contradictory, or rarely. and with such an extensive source material that doesn’t hand you answers on a gold platter, it also requires some close reading of seemingly innocuous details that become relevant down the line, which can get complicated given the sheer amount of information.

so while it’s not necessarily easy, no dmbj is not full of ‘pits haha’. people only think that because a) they’ve only watched the dramas which are an absolute mess and b) it makes them feel justified in considering dmbj like some free-for-all chinese tomb raiding themed dnd game they can remix ad infinitum, when i honestly don’t understand why that even needs justification. you can enjoy fanon without dunking on both the canon and the people who enjoy engaging with it idk.

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

this is honestly a great question and i had to think about it for a bit, so i’m going to offer two (ish) options. the first kind of general one is i wish there were more book-centric fics instead of drama-centric ones, because while i enjoy the shows for different reasons, i love the books and the specific vibe they have, and just overall i prefer them by a fair margin. i’d specifically love fic about anything post restart but that’s a pipe dream tbh.

the second is i wish there were more gen fics about the main characters? i know there are a number of gen fics out there, but a lot of them tend to include or focus on minor characters i don’t particularly care for, and so much of the fic involving the iron triangle specifically tends to either be shippy, or even when it’s gen is still flirting a very close line to shippy that’s gen only in name and hinges on the fact it doesn’t include s*x or kissing or explicit mentions of relationship status. but i want the gen fic where it’s just wu xie and pangzi goofing off over a beer, the gen fic where it’s just pangzi trying to get a rise out of xiaoge by telling him ridiculous dirty jokes as they clean xilaimian’s kitchen while xiaoge stays impassive and eventually wu xie comes back from wherever he was and digs at pangzi for it. i want the gen fic where it’s just wu xie and xiaoge on a walk in the mountains, no talking, just enjoying each other’s presence and the peace the silence brings.

special mention to i would also like for ship fics that include one pair in the iron triangle to not write off the other member for very obvious reasons. like shipping pangxie and conveniently taking xiaoge out of the picture by writing him off as ace (which is a hc i vibe with but not when it’s a poor excuse for excluding him). or like shipping pingxie and just not including pangzi in situations where he very much would be. romance and friendship are different types of relationships but both are as valuable and can and should coexist without invalidating each other.

#ask meme #fandom discourse #dmbj #this is probably the most open i've ever been #and will ever be #about my Thoughts on some of the things that go on in dmbj fandom

12 notes · View notes

vaguely-concerned · 1 month ago

Text

I've been trying to figure out a dynamic between neve and rye that I find more compelling, because right now there's not much of anything there for me to sink my little teeth into. but I think I've landed on something delicious with the idea that especially after minrathous gets fucked, rye looks at neve and sees myrna -- someone he feels he keeps letting down horribly no matter how hard he tries not to and can't quite achieve the approval of/connection with that he wishes so it's better to just pull away completely and disengage rather than stay in that unshifting shame. neve is (very understandably) measured and distant with him after what happened, and he's flashing back to his student days of myrna gazing at the perpetually hungover heartbroken heap of a person of him on the other side of her desk every time he missed the deadline of a paper or project like '...can we at least both agree that this is. a bit disappointing. especially considering your potential.' (and him all smudged black eyeshadow and numb ruefulness being like 'sure that's a very kind way to put it myrna thank you'.)

aside from the 'if I let him get too deeply into this he'll go the way of brom and it'll be all my fault (again)' element, neve thinks rye is dismissing her and her city/being a bit callous in the same way he was after varric's death (listen. how fucking wild must rook's reaction to losing a beloved mentor seem to the rest of the crew who aren't seeing the blood magic paper doll ghost varric the whole time, especially those who got to see them interact. you WOULD think 'there's something wrong with this guy. putting the job first is one thing just not seeming to react at all is another this is fucking freaky', wouldn't you, especially after seeing the warmth in that dynamic in action beforehand.) perfect storm of two people who grit their teeth and turn inwards in pain deciding that not talking about it is their best bet (NEWSFLASH: IT ISN'T) lmao

(rye spent his last year of watcher training on a mostly joyless bender and then got it together enough to finish the eternal orb project last moment in a fevered near-sleepless week instead of the half a year that was intended. emmrich is both astounded and distressed to hear this. "a week? but -- but that is an astounding accomplishment rook!! and also why in the maker's good light would you ever do that to yourself?" ("well you see there was no one to stop me from doing it like that but me. and under those conditions these things tend to happen".) rye was working through/looking up stuff around transitioning and doing every kind of OTHER high level watcher research through that whole time, but ultimately he's an excellent watcher and a terrible student, at least under traditional methods. adhd from here to the fucking moon. touched by something akin to divine inspiration in moments of high tension that pulls all the threads into one coherent unbreakable cord, a bit of a frayed mess in most other settings. in our world he'd be dropping out of a masters program at the very last hurdle in this moment maker bless and protect him)

#myrna is actually really proud of him for pushing through and becoming a very fine member of the mourn watch #(and a good man)#but she is also. well. myrna. so she has never expressed as much to him. (she thought it went without saying. it did not!)#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #oc: Ellaryen Ingellvar #neve gallus #considering how satisfying the Arc with davrin has been I hope this can liven up neve and rye's interactions for me!#also very interesting and fitting b/c davrin will come for you where you live and go 'and hey btw ANOTHER THING --' no bullshit #which rye finds SO annoying but is probably why their relationship has grown so deep so quickly b/c davrin won't let him avoid him #while neve is ironically a lot more like him and it means they have a much harder time reaching each other b/c they're both so watchful #and guarded. they vibed so hard in the beginning it was all neve approves all the times b/c they have similar instincts. and now look at us #we live in the same house and politely pretend the other one doesn't exist. we're making ghosts out of each other!!!#explaining why he's semi-avoiding her. he thinks he's being thoughtful in giving her her space but uh. well.#perhaps more flight behaviour in that than he's willing to gaze at directly haha #rye looks at lucanis claiming he's a mess and goes 'oh buddy you should've seen me the first day in a year I was fully sober #and working on that fucking orb with head pounding and eyeliner running. even like this you're one of the tidiest #and most disciplined people I've ever met. you're literally fine.'#the reason the romance is so slow is not even mostly on lucanis I think rye is the slower to truly open up one in that dynamic lol #hey. I love rook. I love him so much. my trying his best underachieving babyboy who killed god when he got it together #I suspect this is going to be a situation where I've planned multiple other playthroughs #that will inevitably be hampered by '...but where is rye tho. I wish rye was here. does anyone else miss rye' lmao #for reference I've finished DA:O at least 4 times. and all four of them was sophia amell doing exactly the same things. I have a Pattern lo #a pattern I have only really broken in da:i where I have three inquisitors I care about sort of equally (adaar is my fave #but I have fondness for them all)#hawke I basically play as always the same person just AUs of him haha. what if he was a mage instead and it was somehow even sadder #that sort of thing

11 notes · View notes

medicinemane · 6 months ago

Text

Should make a pain killer that actually kills (or even touches) pain

#not that I have access to ultra hardcore stuff #but even when I had... pretty sure it was vicodine for my wisdom teeth; it didn't do a thing for me #cbd based stuff seems like it maybe helps; certainly does more than nsaids which do nothing for pain (great for inflammation though)#but I just... I'd really like something that actually makes my muscles and joints feel like... good; unpain #I'm sure it would be classified as addictive whatever it was but like... fuck man... I just want to not hurt #I can't tell if I have chronic pain cause... I kinda forget to pay attention when I'm hurting a lot of the time #I'll just... kinda realize I've been hurting bad all day and just not really focusing on it #and I also don't know how often it happens; if it's once a day or once a month or what; not great at noting that stuff down #but man... I don't even like most meds; so many meds either do nothing for me or make me feel like shit #like... benedril? however you spell it; someone gave me some once said it would help me sleep... help me be awake feeling like ass more lik #but like... love to see if muscle relaxants actually like... relaxed my muscles; but you get it; you get why I'll never be able to try it #though honestly I think therapeutic massage might help me a lot #but my doc says that really only gets authorized by physical therapy and... well for me physical therapy is useless #cause I forget to do the exercise; like it's me failing a physical therapy; not a probably with physical therapy #if I ever think I can keep up with it I'd love to try physical therapy for my back again; but I don't want to waste all my chances at it #not when... I descriptively didn't do it when I was in it before; I'd never remember to do any of the exercises #anyway; bonus story from when I was in urgent care when the infection came back (that's still never been solved)#I tell the doc 'last time it tore open a drainage hole it was the worst pain I've ever felt'... cause it was #I said 'I'll need something a bit stronger than an nsaid cause the nsaid did nothing but cut inflammation last time'#she's like 'don't worry; I got you'... wanna guess what she gave me? a newer nsaid #it didn't do shit; I was just lucky and it wasn't as painful... maybe the old drainage hole tore open easier this time #but I didn't even take the nsaid she prescribed; so I'm gonna say it wasn't that med helping #like I get it; you don't want to give opioids... and would it shock you to know that wasn't what I was looking for either #there's gotta be something between nsaid and fentynol man #...well... maybe the cdb has almost got my muscles... hurting less at least; only taken all this time I've been writing #they still hurt for sure... I don't know... get tired; you know?#mm tag so i can find things later

6 notes · View notes

intuitive-revelations · 1 year ago

Text

Ok so... that episode. Mixed thoughts. First half I felt was really strong. The second half...well.

As usual I'm going to kind of vomit my thoughts out as bullet points. It'll be quite rough though, as I'm way too tired to break these down more carefully right now, and just want to say my piece before I go to bed:

LOL at UNIT being so out in the open now. Couldn't help but think of all the big bold 'secret' signs from the classic series when I saw that.

The Vlinx is a really odd addition... did anyone else think about Splinx (from the Mines of Terror game) when they heard the name?

MEL! I did find it curious that some of the reporting on her appearance was ambiguous about when it would be, so I guess that explains that. Kind of an odd choice for a UNIT / Toymaker story, but establishing her as a character at UNIT works fine.

Now that I think about it, wasn't POTD specifically written with awareness of who / what RTD would be using in the specials? If so, I guess that explains why Mel didn't play a part in the plot.

Speaking of which, they're definitely going for this UNIT spin-off aren't they? I mean... makes sense. It seems they're building off what we saw in POTD anyway.

Trinity Wells coming back was a fun surprise, given how long it's been since we've seen her.

The political commentary of 'being right' is kind of perfect. Between this and the trans representation in The Star Beast, it kind of feels like RTD is laying out this thesis for the next few years.

I kind of like how they did the Toymaker in this one? Though he's perhaps a little too flamboyant and 'Master'-y for me, I do think the stuff with his accents etc was quite clever. I also think there was clearly some thought about the more dated racial stuff with the character, which that line about the weather kinda felt like it was hinting at?

I liked all the little ways they hinted at the Toymaker's "crystal guardian" backstory, with him sitting outside of "Chaos and Order".

Speaking of which... did he imply he beat the the Black and White Guardians? Cause if so...

Not gonna lie, when the Doctor started talking about a mistake he made when he was young, a part of me really genuinely thought they were about to mention Divided Loyalties. The line about the 'face' the Toymaker wore didn't help.

I'm also glad we got the Celestial Toyroom stuff, as I wasn't sure how much we were going to get in this episode? I think the creepiness with modern effects was great. I kind of wish we got to spend more time there though, ala the original story.

Conversely, I also feel like we could have gotten a bit more out of the idea of the Toymaker escaping into the universe? We got a glimpse of that in 'realistic' terms with the outer world, and a more campy fun vibe inside UNIT, but I would equally love much more focus on the world going mad, both mentally, but also physically. I dunno, it feels like there's two ambitious stories you could have gone with, but the episode kind of half-and-halfed it.

The stuff with Amy, Clara, Bill and the Flux. I needed that. Seriously. As someone whose literally spent all last week thinking about how it's all been one line of tragedies for the Doctor, connected from one to the other, getting that acknowledged in text was great.

The twist with the Master getting trapped too was a bizarre addtion, and honestly unnecessary. It felt like that story (I can't remember which, sorry EU fans, an EDA I think) which offhandedly implies both the Master and Rani are dead. I feel it could have worked a bit better if it was another major character we haven't heard of in some time, like Rassilon or someone, instead of someone we saw just a few episodes ago.

I will say the games were disappointing. I get there's only so much you can do with recognisable simple games, but I definitely wish we got something a bit more complex than "biggest number wins" and "catch". This is a story that really needed a good resolution, ideally based on the Doctor outwitting the Toymaker, and we didn't really get that. I'm not upset about it, just felt weak.

That being said, the focus on rules with regards to 'best of three' was perfect. Exactly what I wanted more of tbh.

I'm surprised by the "One Who Waits", after being teased in marketing as referring to the Toymaker, actually being someone else. RTD's been doing a surprising amount of sequel hooking actually...

I'll get more into the mechanics in a second, but I do like the resolution being about the Doctor's own mental health? It feels like the right conclusion, not just based on the past couple episodes, but also based on Thirteen's character arc, as well as everything that happened before her. I'm sure fans will (rightfully) eat that up and talk about it a lot.

Ok, so let's seperate out the BIG thing, and my thoughts on it. Warning: I'm about to get uncharacteristically negative for me:

I had seen the leaks about the bigeneration, and am really disappointed at how accurate they were, though I had kind of accepted it based on the accuracy of The Star Beast's leaks.

Funny enough, I genuinely do quite like ideas of weird stuff to do with regenerations in terms of splitting etc. I genuinely have had some thought before about the idea of it from an assimilation kind of view, merging together, kind of a more horror-y take on the Master's plan in POTD.

But... did we have to do this with Tennant? I mean, don't get me wrong I love him and have genuinely loved what he brought to Fourteen, distinguishing him from Ten and giving him the feel of that extra history since then... but did he really need to be the Doctor to get a life after regeneration? After all, Ten is the one who 'didn't want to go'. Granted him such a thing really feels like it's going against not just the 'embrace change' message of DW in general, but even Ten's own arc specifically?

(This is a thought I had after writing everything else here, but it's also kind of messed up that he's the one to get this conclusion, when we literally just had a whole arc about 13 and Yaz not having enough time together because of 13's incoming regeneration...?)

I don't think I need to spell out the issues of having two 'current' Doctors, not just in-universe, but also out of universe, and the shadow that now hangs over Ncuti's series, whether or not we get more with 14. The TARDIS splitting was really bad too.

That being said, there is one saving grace, in that it's seemingly implied that the rest of 14's life still comes before 15, somehow, based on what the latter said about being better because 14 will take the time to rest, recover and reflect on everything that's happened?

This is the one thing that doesn't make me want to throw the resolution away, as it does seemingly provide some clarity. If RTD sticks by that line, it would suggest it's less that there's two whole new Doctors, and more that 14 has been given some grace of having a bit more time before he turns into 15. That there's still technically a linear progression of Doctors, it's just one gets to hang around a little while to give the new one a cleaner mental slate. How on earth that would work however, is a whole other question...

I mean... couldn't we have just done this by time travel instead? Rather than introduce this whole new, kinda show-breaking concept? You could still get your hypothetical Tennant and past companions miniseries (which seems like it'll be a thing) or whatever alongside 15's own debut. Just let it be non-linear, and let us meet and travel with 15 before we get a peaceful, recovered 14 regeneration?

Also... if we ARE going play fast and loose with the ideas of regeneration... why didn't Tennant's face coming back play into this? Like... what a weird choice to make that the 'mystery' of the specials, throw in a crazy regeneration sequence... then just suggest it's a bit of a subconscious message. If we are going to get crazy with what regeneration can do, why not go all in with stuff like the Guardians of the Edge, or the Valeyard or something? Have fun with the internal identities lore of regeneration?

So yeah, to summarise my thoughts on the bigeneration... I really think RTD might have gone a step too far this time. I spent a little time after the last episode talking about how the lack of resolution on the Flux was one of my bigger complaints about the Chibnall era, but this writing decision feels even more baffling. If Doctor Who is going to have a 'jumping the shark' moment, we might have just witnessed it.

That being said, as someone who hates being too negative, I did find a silver lining in that the dialogue implies he's planned ahead how to get out of some of these issues, with regards to two concurrent Doctors etc. It just doesn't feel good being in this situation at all, when it wasn't needed in the first place.

Overall thoughts

I didn't hate the episode. In fact I was very much in to most of it! There were a lot of good ideas, across the Toymaker, the Giggle etc. although I do feel some were woefully underused within the episode. It's just that they're all kind of marred by that one big bad idea at the end.

Like I said, the stuff focusing on the Toymaker and the Doctor's history, plus his time since he travelled with Donna was great. The Giggle was a fun satirical concept, if again underused, and the Toymaker's argument for targetting Earth was pretty great. The resolution of forcing the Doctor to settle down, for a little while, and be with friends is decent too, and a nice conclusion to come to, even if the way it came about was a mess.

I suspect, and hope, we might get some more details not just about how this will all work (or maybe just opening up the question without getting too specific), but also about any possible plans for spin-offs and whether or not they will overlap with the stuff in this episode, which may or may not alleviate my worries.

But for now.... yeah, I'm concerned, sorry.

#Doctor Who #The Giggle #DW Spoilers #Doctor Who Spoilers #Doctor Who 60th Anniversary #DW negativity #Fourteenth Doctor #Fifteenth Doctor #RTD #I'm not going to go full “anti-RTD” or anything #don't worry #(I don't exactly want to see that myself either)#and will probably keep being quite positive and creative about the show #if occassionally critical of certain things #but this is probably the most worried I've been #far more than I ever was with the Timeless Child lore #even if I do still have some of my own critiques there #(TLDR I kinda want someone - maybe RTD - to pull an Unnatural History and open it up more to interpretation)#gallifrey being re-destroyed and the flux being unresolved are up there but probably still second and third to this in my head

10 notes · View notes

kenzan-kiwami · 1 year ago

Text

(screenshotting the replies and posting because i feel weird replying from my main <\3 hope you don't mind the ping @startledpixel )

i never even thought about it happening that way... haha... excuse me while i go scream in a corner for a couple of minutes

it ties in really well to the sort of recurring motif i see through his life that the only time he's allowed to be truly happy with himself and his place in the world is after his "death" and recovery. kazama is a very complicated character to think about when it comes to his motivations and his relationships with the people he's close with - i don't think he's very good at prioritising his emotional investments (nishiki being the obvious example, but also the way he doesn't send any letters to kiryu in jail until the last day before his parole), so to add an extra layer of tragedy to the whole thing i like to think that he hadn't been making as much time for kashiwagi towards the end than he maybe could have been. not in a premeditated disloyalty sense, of course, but he's got his hands more than full with the whole embezzling 10 billion yen from the tojo coffers gambit... kashiwagi being the way he is though would be all the more desperate for reconciliation, and to then not get it before kazama kicks it would be the icing on the shit cake

but yeah KNOWING adachi was in the building with everyone else must have been like reliving his second-worst nightmare... meeting this man he thought he'd be able to settle down with for the first time in sixty odd years but still constantly having to worry after him. i still adore no idling as an exploration of those feelings after the fact & i find myself coming back to it an awful lot as someone who doesn't generally read fiction more than once or twice unless i'm trying to find something specific (if you may allow me my nerd moment)

it's something i would love to explore more myself, but i don't really feel i have the means to do it in a way in which i'd enjoy the end product... but i suppose that's what commissions are for!

ANYWAY, apparently, everyone kiryu meets in his side story gives him some kind of reward, and i'm having A Time thinking about what he might get from kashiwagi. i'm trying not to set myself up to be disappointed by what happens, but there's a big part of me that hopes kashiwagi pulls "suzuki" to the side and leaves whoever else on the bar for a while so they get a chance to actually catch up. i think at this point both of them really need something like that, because i doubt there's any way kashiwagi didn't get the news that kiryu "died" in 2016

the other big thing that's got me physically shaking is the idea they might finally namedrop him. and uuhhh if they still let us karaoke at survive then i hope judgement gets its own cinematic. : )

#kashiwagi osamu #text #meta #malware #i absolutely need to go and leave a comment on all of your fic because (along with milktrician's)#they're a HUGE part of what kept me interested enough in playing through to 7 and beyond #i'll tell you now yakuza 6 was probably the most difficult time i've had actually finishing a video game ever #sorry if any of this comes across weirdly i feel like i've been noticed by the gods themselves #i opened my notes this morning after i got to work and i'm so glad my boss wasn't in the room because #i could NOT have kept it together in front of her #LIKE normally i'm good at keeping myself composed but this was just... shock and awe. the highest honour i could receive #but i suppose it's not like many people ever talk about minor rgg characters in this much depth #which has been a hangup of mine for a while so i'm glad my stuff is reaching the right audience!#1 spoilers #3 spoilers #7 spoilers

8 notes · View notes

weisshapt · 2 years ago

Note

hello! hope you dont mind me asking but can you tell me random facts about ilithiya? i'm so interested in her!

mind? do i mind? do you mind that i'm about to run headfirst through your walls to shake you by the shoulders? no? fantastic. in all (semi-)seriousness though, this ask brought me so much joy my hands shook.

putting this under a cut because even though you said random facts i definitely got carried away.

ilithiya was primarily the result of watching the amc mayfair witches show while i had bg3 brainrot and the answer to the question "what would a mayfair witches sort of situation look like in baldurs gate?" and since then i've devolved and lost control of a good 37% of my faculties.

ilithiya, as i've said in one of her edits, is the seventeenth generation of de vryes warlocks (technically sixteenth to bear the surname), all of whom have kept a pact going with the same age old demon, taltos. the pact was originally made and bound in blood: the blood of the first warlock, ayana, and the blood of the demon himself, drops of which were both poured into the locket that's become a sort of talisman for each de vryes "heir." and by heir i mean the warlock of the next generation that taltos himself would communicate with and show himself to (and was likely somewhat present during the conception of, but that's a whole other thing). through their pact, each generation has made the family stronger, wealthier, more powerful, all the while making taltos grow the same. the family itself is a bit.....complicated. somewhat targaryen-esque at times. i've been working on casting and planning for a massive family tree edit that i'd like to make soon but i can't promise how soon it'll actually be posted.

as for ilithiya herself, she's almost entirely what you'd expect a noble rich girl to be. spoiled, selfish, unused to hearing the word no in any serious capacity. she's still a bit of a troublemaker in her family, especially when compared to "perfect, pretty, proper licinia" (her older sister), but she can also be precocious and clever and curious, and she's more than just a little talented. or at least, she was pre-tadpole.

i do want to eventually post more in depth analyses of ilithiya and her relationship with taltos but you asked for random facts and i've blathered on enough so! now for some random bits and pieces:

when ilithiya was young, and taltos asked her, as he does every year and has done to every heir before her, what she would wish for for her birthday, she asked for a pony. on her birthday, she was presented with a jet black yearling horse, whom she called nemetes. throughout her life she has constantly snuck out to go riding, loving nothing more than the feeling of freedom gained from the near flight of a horse running at full speed.

something i think might set her apart from some of the past generations of her family is the particular nature of her relationship with taltos. i will say it is definitely and unavoidably a sort of grooming situation (he's been with her her entire life, whispering in her ear, endearing himself to her, molding and shaping the woman she's become) but ilithiya obviously isn't going to see it like that. she's particularly fixated on him, if not outright partially in love with him. it's something the devil on her shoulder seems perfectly content to encourage. this could also stem from the fact that the binding ceremony wherein an heir fully accepts their role and their connection to taltos is a bigger event in the family than their wedding, complete with a pseudo-wedding night. all her life she's been told she'll one day marry, but that her, in essence, marriage to taltos would always come first.

i haven't decided yet who ilithiya will romance in-game, because there are just. so many good options. the fact is she was nabbed on her way to meet a potential groom, so she's of the mind that it's high time she did her duty to her family, even if she's terrified of losing taltos once he chooses the next heir. on instinct i'd say astarion would fit her the most in terms of personality as they both seem very blase about helping others and both have a distinct want for power, as much of it as they can get their hands on. but again. she's looking to have a child eventually, and as far as i'm aware, that's not something she could do with a vampire. still, the allure of vampirism itself is something she finds herself thinking about often, until, that is, she's informed of how rarely a vampire allows their spawn to become their equal. gale would only be an option because she can tell he's of both powerful magical and noble stock which is exactly what she'd be looking for, but their personalities would clash too much. wyll, on the other hand, is a sort of dichotomy i'm incredibly curious about exploring. the warlock that desperately wants out of his pact versus the warlock who's petrified of losing hers almost to the point of it driving her mad (especially now that she can't feel or communicate with taltos due to the worm and she's never been without him before). the way the two could interact intrigues me and it's something i've been thinking about a lot.

other than her horse, she also has a cat named nasir.

#i believe this may have gotten away from me a little bit #probably the most i've actually written down about her #mostly i've just been screaming about the rest of her family #who've started to take up more and more space in my head #sorry this took a hot minute for me to answer #floodgates were opened and i've been trying to close them #before i just spout every last thought i've ever had about her and leave myself with No Mystery #oc: ilithiya

3 notes · View notes

crest-of-gautier · 4 months ago

Text

i probably have lots of epic and swag clips of me playing splatoon 3 however i keep forgetting to rewatch them or compile them so this account's collected a lot of dust 🙈 but at least i am having fun with art?! <- guy who's mostly been drawing

#lizz.txt #RANDOM LIZZ TALKIE POST... i think i would like to compile my splat clips at some point bc i have a lot and tbh i could probably-#benefit from freeing up space but OUGH i am in such an art headspace that i just have NOT been video editing. and thats OK!!!#i've really been having a lot of fun drawing again though as of late ;w; !!! very whimsical and i'm emphasizing the parts of the process-#that i enjoy working on... and cutting out the stuff i don't like as much... while also dipping my toes into new territory with an open min #i'm very thankful for splat... it brought me so many wonderful friendships and while it wasnt immediately obvious it was also a huge boon-#to my creativity and letting me experiment in ways that aren't solely illustration focused... im glad i stuck with this game :D #but also cheers to learning more about it even when splatoon 3's official event times are like. over. i'll still play bc theres still-#stuff that i want to accomplish and do in the game! i'm really happy this game was made even with the flaws it has (e.g. update cycle-#being largely infrequent w/rt kits- those were some of the most painful wait times ever... LOL)#anyway bye for now... im sure i could have clips that i want to share... just not rn bc i moreso want to share art and stories atm #but it's nice having different hobbies to bounce between... i think this is what people call balance and i have achieved that...

0 notes

petrichorpetals · 4 months ago

Text

Due to a series of circumstances, I ended up going through my old Facebook and I really don't get how I managed to not change in ten years lmao. I made the exact type of posts I would make today. Really expected to go back and find myself cringy but nope. RIP to those of you that found your younger selves cringy but I'm built different. 😅

It's weird but I'm strangely glad that I haven't changed. I even remember ten years ago going through some of my old stuff and remarking the same thing. I've never deleted any of my old stuff to try to let it be a mark of progress and I'm glad. Yeah my writing and interpersonal skills have improved, but I've not fundamentally changed as a person. I might not have gotten everything right the first try, but I did my best with the information I had at hand. At the end of the day, I'm still recognizable as me.

#aquila be quiet no one cares #it's weird because I didn't need to go through one of those I'm not like other kids phases because I perpetually live through one #every time I open my mouth to express an opinion it usually garners some form of someone going wtf are you talking about #so naturally I've stopped trying to relate and just living my truth lmao #I've never really needed the validation of strangers for my self worth and it's so nice #like even one of my coworkers and I were discussing anger earlier and he was like yeah most people have this anger built up #and I'm just like ??? I've not been legitimately angry since I was really young and still talking to my parents I just cry #it reminds me of how I had one creative writing professor that was practically begging me to write nonfic about myself #I really prefer fiction because it's fun to create diverse stories of people whose lives are a lot more different from my own #but my life is equally as odd too so I get where she's coming from #not one singular detail about my life is ever normal for the majority of people and that's a valid story too #I don't think I'm capable of writing a boring character if I tried #I'll probably throw something entirely off the wall in there by accident thinking it was normal

0 notes

kentopedia · 8 months ago

Text

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold.

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity.

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants.

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards.

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding.

he can feel the man swallowing.

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well.

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand.

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you.

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity.

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you.

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them.

limply, they fall to the floor.

chuuya rushes over to you.

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it.

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing.

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?”

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?”

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either.

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.”

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.”

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones.

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.”

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.”

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later.

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.”

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off.

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him.

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage.

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course.

but you… you’re different.

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.”

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own.

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable.

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you.

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow.

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy.

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets.

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found.

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain.

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him.

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain.

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding.

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips.

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you.

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads.

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.”

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?”

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.”

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken.

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word.

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you.

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies.

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest.

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well.

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating.

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe.

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend.

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.”

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation.

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you.

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation.

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own.

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed.

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive.

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them.

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall.

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive.

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes.

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats.

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile.

dazai hums. “you the leader?”

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you.

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all.

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him.

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become.

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple.

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.”

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.”

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?”

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.”

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

3K notes · View notes