#wanna beat him with a shovel

[krc-draws]

⚠️!!TW!!⚠️ Gore/Guts/Blood/Eyestrain

Haha funny crazy cowboy man gonna steal your toes

I had fun with this :)

Here’s and alt with Butchers Vanity color theme

[toasterghostie]

This is the worst timeline

[vitentia]

DEAR DIARY, DAY TWO OF HAVING A GIRLFRIEND….MIGHT DIE.

pairings ━━ jackson!ellie williams x reader

warnings ━━ tooth rotting fluff I fear

synopsis ━━ you like Ellie, ellie likes you, she grows enough tit to ask you out and surprise! you said yes! yet somehow you’re more nervous around your girlfriend than when she was your crush…AGH!

authors note ━━ did I go ghost for a year? yes. did I hear someone ask for more fluff/angst amidst freaktober on tumblr? also yes. I have come to provide🫡

IMPORTANT note — if you wanna request an Ellie or Abby fic, just pm me! I think coming up with all the fics on my own is the reason I burnt out but send me any ideas you have that aren’t smut bc I SUCK at writing that. Im also considering writing for arcane?? So yeah!

Cleaning horse shit isn’t the sexiest job in the world, which is why you were eternally grateful your girlfriend had been assigned to go on patrol with Tommy this morning. Even the thought of “your girlfriend” sent shivers down your spine and a red hot blush on your cheeks. You sniffled and wiped your cheek against your shoulder, conveniently the jacket your girlfriend, Ellie, had given you last night.

Again, you fought back a smile as the words “my girlfriend, ellie” popped into your head. Just 48 hours ago you were accepting the fact that you might have to yearn for the brunette from afar for the rest of your lives, and today you were biting your lips trying not to look too happy shoveling actual shit.

“Hey girlie!” Called out the man in charge, his big gut making it’s way into the shed before his head did as he leaned against his favorite horses stead. “You’ve been relieved. Tommy and Ellie are on their way back, just put the girls back where they belong and I’ll feed them, get it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” He replied quickly before raising the pitch of his voice and cooing down at the large horse between his palms like a baby.

You snickered at his actions but couldn’t resist the speedy pace you walked at as you grabbed your hanging bag and ran towards the shed bathroom. As soon as you locked the door behind you, you immediately shoved off your almost knee length rubber boots and changed into your cutest (aka least creased) boots. Despite not having any perfume like they did back then, you did make sure to grab a special bar of soap before you left your house and scrubbed the lavender scent into your arms like your life depended on it. Looking in the dirty mirror, you tried to vaguely make out whether or not you looked presentable. You tried lowering the v-cut shirt you were wearing but immediately shook your head and decided against it.

Just as you were in between hyping yourself up and finding an escape route, the guards on top shouted out, stating that the doors were opening.

You were a nervous wreck. Constantly pushing your hair in front of your forehead and then behind your ear while simultaneously walking towards the front of Jackson where your girlfriend would be making an entrance.

With the sun beaming behind her head and shining her brown locks into a beautiful golden color, you had to raise your hand above your eyes to protect yourself. Has she always been this beautiful or are the God’s reminding me how perfect my girlfriend is?

“Millers! You’re back early.” A nearby card player called out, kicking his feet back against a wooden barrel with a cigarette hanging half out of his mouth.

“Yeah well, Ellie was killin’ them things left and right. Would’ve thought she had somewhere to be.” Tommy joked, sliding off his horse and giving you the reigns with a smile. For a second, your heart skipped a beat, believing she might’ve told him on their journey.

“Hey, if you’re a lousy shot, just say that.” Ellie teased him back with a shrug, remaining on her horse with no movement towards getting down. You looked up at her in confusion but as soon as your eyes connected, you immediately looked away, feeling your face burn.

“Yeah, next time I go out on patrol I know who to call.” The man chuckled

“Thank you, man.” Tommy beamed

“Not you, dipshit.”

You and Ellie let out a surprised cackle, and while you tried covering yours up with a cough as Tommy glared in your direction, Ellie couldn’t hold back her hearty laugh. She slapped her thigh and wiped an invisible tear from her eye as Tommy rambled on. While her uncle turned his anger to the card player, she caught your eye and motioned her head towards the stables.

“Lead the way.”

You nodded and lowered your gaze again, mentally freaking out as you guided Tommy’s horse back into her stable with Ellie following close behind on her own. Whilst you removed her gear gently, you could hear the clanging of Ellie following suit behind you. And when she finished, she simply watched you.

“You’re so gentle with them.” You jumped at her words, not expecting her to be so close as she leaned against the entrance of the stable. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” She chuckled lightly.

“No, you’re good I, uh, I have this…idea that they’re so on edge from being outside that they can’t really tell when it’s time to relax and when it’s time to work. So I just try to make the transition easier, you know? No loud noises, extra treats, stuff like that..” You answered, giving the ol’ girl a nice rub on her sides.

Ellie hummed and leaned her body backwards, looking both ways to see if anyone was around before stepping into the stable you were in. Her steps were slow as she approached you and you resisted the urge to step away, not for any reason besides you literally thought you might combust being this close to her.

She stood in front of you, eyes staring deeply into yours while her hands remained at her sides. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.” She said in a low voice.

“Really?”

“Of course.” Her head lowered to find your hands, she clasped both of your hands in both of hers as she admired you. “How could I not?”

Your mind was screaming, blaring alarms, and throwing burning papers in the air as the people in your head attempted to regulate…well everything.

You let out an airy chuckle and looked down bashfully. “Well, you’re lucky you didn’t see me an hour before.” She gave you a confused look, so you continued. “I was cleaning up after the horses.”

Ellie looked up at the ceiling and thought about the vagueness of your words before a smile grew on her cheeks. She lifted her hand to cup her cheek to look her in the eye. “I think you would’ve looked beautiful anyway.”

“Shoveling horse shit?” You snorted

She shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t get in your mouth, no harm, no foul, right?”

“Ewww!” You whined as Ellie laughed at your reaction. You shivered at the thought. “Too early.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” She surrendered, admiring your entire face for a minute before looking behind her quickly. “Hey…” she whispered, almost nervous in a way.

“Hey.”

She moved closer to you, reaching up to stroke your cheek and hoping you wouldn’t notice the way her hand shook the entire way up. “Can I get a kiss?”

Your heart leaped. Your vocal chords were nowhere to found, so you attempted a simple nod. But Ellie smiled at you and shook her head.

“Can I hear you say it?”

You gulped. “Please kiss me, Ellie.”

With a wide smile, she leaned in and connected your lips so gently, you felt like you were being kissed by a fairy. She let you both grow comfortable in the kiss before pulling away lightly, giving you the same chance, and leaning in once more when you chased after her lips. The two of you remained in a tight embrace, neither pushing the others boundary too much but putting enough pressure to know she were there. For a minute, you forgot where you were.

“Hey girlie!” A voice boomed

The two of you pulled away in shock, looking between each other before you quickly looked around at your surroundings and hurriedly threw a brown bag in Ellie’s direction. She caught it in both arms before spinning around to face the burly old man who sauntered over.

“Williams. What are you doing in my shed?” He questioned her.

You popped out from the other side of the horse and patted her side. “Sorry, sir. She wanted to give the girls some treats for their hard work out there.”

He looked between you two suspiciously before crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Ellie with a look you couldn’t put your finger on. “So you’re the one who’s been sneaking my girls extra snacks, eh?”

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed for a second before sighing and handing him the bag as if she’d been caught. “Yep, it’s me. Sorry, man.”

He sucked his teeth and snatched the bag out of her hand, reaching inside to grab a red apple and bite into it. “You’re lucky you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count, Williams.” He pointed at her and then to you. “And you, stop bein’ so damn nice. Y’all are gonna fatten my horses up. Now, get.”

You and Ellie swiftly made your way out of the horse shed, walking side by side inconspicuously throughout Jackson. Your hands occasionally bumped each other and you both resisted the urge to grab it. Ellie, because she didn’t want her business out to the whole world, and you, because your hands were probably dripping from how sweaty they felt.

You’d never felt this nervous around anyone. The secrecy of your relationship made it all the more wild. And yeah, it would be nice for everyone to know that Ellie is yours.

It’s also just nice being able to tell yourself that Ellie fucking Williams is your girlfriend.

[solar4seekstron]

Tf1! Orian Pax one day seeing this normally quiet miner! Reader sneaking off. And gotten curious he decided to follow. Leading to a very hidden place that he had no clue existed yet, forgotten and high up, he finally climbed up and he was in awe. As the reader found a rare glimpse of the starry night of the surface... you cook with the rest of it my dear.

That’s really good!!! I shall do my best.

Orion Pax x Cybertronian!Reader Oneshot: Special Spot

(I didn’t know if you meant actually on the surface or not but a few guys ago I went to the mountains with my family. Some people lived in really nice houses in the mountains so that gave me an idea! I hope you still enjoyed! Or just DM to yell at me if I got it wrong lol)

I decided this would be cute of Orion Pax finally gaining the strength to tell his crush his feelings and after finding their little special spot close to the surface. He’s so fixated, he forgets his nervousness and finally has a chance to get a spark mate.

TW/Tags: Wholesomeness and fluff, Orion is precious, reader is quiet, this is so sweet you might get sick lol

Orion pax has always noticed you. Although you were always quiet and didn’t speak much. Until a superior or- Elita spoke to you. You always seemed in a good mood and when he tried talking to you. Your words are always sweet and soft. Hell to the others it seems like you don’t even know the concept of sarcasm. Since everyone else does it with him but when he’s with you. He actually feels no attacked.

Over time. He grew a bit of a crush on you. Although not with much to say. And would never threaten him with beating him with a shovel. Your actions always spoke louder. He knew that tonight is going to be the night.

So once everyone else has fallen asleep. He makes his way towards you and once at your sleeping spot. He noticed when pointing his helm out of the corner, you were- AWAKE?!?! He watched you

You were walking away and made your way out of the mining quarters. He followed behind you to where you don’t notice him

———————————————————————————

After some time you continue to make your way to a certain spot. Right between two buildings that are higher up a sort of mountain. A steep hill the buildings were set on

Once you made it there you leaned your back against the wall. There was an amazing view once you looked up. An opened window to the stars of the surface. Although it wasn’t that big. It was just enough for you to see. You continued to stare up. Not noticing Orion snuck up next to you. He then leaned down a bit close to your audio sensors and whispered as gently as he can “what are we looking at?”

This startled you. You were quick to back up your arms in front of you to protect yourself. Orion had his hands up and looked at you.

“Woah. Easy. I ain’t here to hurt ya or anything.” You just looked at him. Looking back at the ground and back at him a few times. He realized you were worried and thought fast.

“Hey,..I won’t snitch if that’s what you’re worried about…I have my secrets too around this city..” he chuckled. You stayed still for a moment looking at him. But then you’d slowly give him that usually warm smile and looked back up at the stars. Orion looked up too. Took him a moment but he was able to finally see them. He was amazed. So enchanted he was actually quiet for a moment.

You let out a sigh as you close your eyes “one day I’m going to fly under those stars. Only closer to them then…” Orion glanced at you and gently smiles. His optics soft

You two stand there looking up for a few more Nano Kliks until Orion finally spoke. His fight gently touching yours.

“So um….you wanna…goooo”

“Yeah Orion. I’ll let you court me”

Orion turned to the opposite side of you raising his arm and first as he closed his optics and whispered “yes!!!!”

You chuckled your helmet resting on his shoulders as you closed your optics. Your hand holding his until they interlocked. Orion continued to look at the stars. He was so happy.

Hope y’all enjoyed!

[mimimarvelingmarvel]

time bound part five

pairing: worst wolverine!logan howlett x f!mutant!reader

Part Five - Masterlist

summary: Y/n’s life takes a dramatic turn when the Time Variance Authority intervenes, pulling her from a critical moment in her timeline. The TVA sends her to the void where she eventually meets with Deadpool and a very familiar face. With Deadpool's universe in the balance, alongside his reluctant would-be pal, Wolverine, and the enigmatic time-bending mutant known as the Veil, the trio must complete the mission and save Deadpool’s world from an existential threat.

overall warnings: 18+, Fem!Reader, AFAB Reader, Use of Y/N, Her X-Men name is Veil, She/her pronouns, Swearing, Angst, Heavy Violence, Character Death, Deadpool (he’s his own warning), Hurt, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, TVA

word count: 1.1k

We find our way to the diner Logan had spotted, and it's no wonder it’s deserted—the main source of food seems to be Spam. I grumble as Wade tosses a can my way. “I’d rather drop dead than eat,” I inspect the can, grimacing, “20-year-old Spam.”

I watch as Wade hesitates for a moment, then shrugs and digs in. “Suit yourself, Pumpkin, more for me.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Logan searching for something else in the kitchen, his movements deliberate, but I keep my focus on Wade.

“You said the TVA can fix my mistake?” I ask, my voice low, the weight of the question hanging in the air. I notice Logan pause, then he resumes rummaging, though his silence speaks volumes.

Wade tilts his head, gesturing for me to sit across from him as he pulls off his mask. “Yeah, for sure. My deal with Mr. Grumpy over there is that he’ll help me, and then I’ll help him.” I nod slowly, processing his words.

“And your universe is…?”

“Dying,” Wade replies nonchalantly, shoveling a spoonful of Spam into his mouth. “Because that beautiful piece of ass died in my universe.”

I raise an eyebrow, a mixture of disbelief and sympathy washing over me. “Right, Laura told me about that Logan.”

Wade gasps, his hand freezing mid-bite. “You know X-23? Did she tell you about—”

“I don’t want to hear about my Variants,” I cut him off, my tone firm. Wade’s mouth snaps shut, but not before he gives a sly grin.

“She had a nice piece of ass as well,” he mutters, his eyes tilting downward, clearly checking me out. I wave a hand in front of his face, irritation flaring.

“Eyes up here,” I growl, my voice laced with warning. He meets my gaze with a smirk, unbothered by my anger.

Meanwhile, Logan continues to clatter around the kitchen, his focus intense as Wade calls over to him, “So, what made you finally wear an honest-to-God costume? Mine’s red so they can’t see me bleed. But I can see how yellow would be useful too.”

Logan barely looks up as he retorts, “Have you been checked for ADHD?”

Wade doesn’t miss a beat. “No, but I’ve had several STDs, which were probably caused by ADHD.”

I can’t resist adding, “A walking scrotum like you? Not surprised.”

Wade grins at me, biting the air playfully. “She has a mouth, you should use it more.”

“I’ll cut your dick off,” I snap, my patience wearing thin.

Wade chuckles, undeterred. “What are you looking for?” he asks, shifting his attention back to Logan.

Logan finally pulls out a can of rubbing alcohol, holding it up as if he’s found something worth keeping.

Wade’s eyes widen in horror. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” he babbles, shaking his head furiously.

I step closer, recognizing the label. “That’s rubbing alcohol,” I point out, though it’s clear Logan knows.

Wade’s concern deepens as he watches Logan crack open the bottle. “You don’t wanna drink that... Yeah, there you go. Fuck that liver.”

Ignoring Wade’s protests, Logan takes a seat beside me in the booth, the bottle of rubbing alcohol clutched in his hand. He glances over at Wade, a rare look of curiosity crossing his face. “What the fuck are those?” he asks, pointing to the stapled bits of fluff still attached to Wade’s head.

Wade touches the staples casually. “Oh. Back in civilian life, I wear a toupee, but nobody knows.”

Logan’s laughter is unexpected, a genuine sound that catches Wade off guard. For a moment, Wade joins in, his laughter light and carefree—until he realizes Logan is laughing at him, not with him. The smile slips from Wade’s face, a flicker of hurt in his eyes.

“Everybody knows,” Logan says, the amusement fading as quickly as it came.

I frown, studying Logan more closely. He’s different—subtly so, but different. The way he carries himself, the excessive drinking—it was never this bad before. There’s a heaviness in him now, something dark that wasn’t there before.

Wade, perhaps sensing the shift in mood, offers a lifeline. “Wanna talk about what’s haunting you, or should we wait for a third-act flashback?”

Logan’s response is immediate, “Go fuck yourself.”

Wade shrugs, unbothered. “You know, in my world, you’re well-regarded.”

Logan’s gaze hardens. “Yeah, well, not in mine.”

The sadness in his voice is unmistakable, and it tugs at something inside me. We have so much we need to talk about, but now isn’t the time.

Wade, sensing the tension, tries to lighten the mood. “They don’t like me much in mine either.”

Logan doesn’t bite. “You don’t say.”

Wade continues, the bravado in his voice slipping just a bit. “I wanted to be something, you know? I wanted to be an Avenger.”

Logan snorts, his disdain clear. “Fuck the Avengers.”

Wade’s voice softens, a rare glimpse of vulnerability showing. “I didn’t make the cut though. Same with the X-Men. My girlfriend left me like this.”

Logan’s eyebrow raises in surprise. “You had a girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Vanessa,” Wade says, his tone wistful. “When we met, she was a dancer. I mean, our whole life was good. But oh boy, I just fucked that right up.”

Wade spares me a glance, his expression unreadable. I can’t tell if he’s looking for sympathy or just sharing his story because it’s the truth.

“But you,” Wade continues, his voice tinged with admiration, “you were an X-Men. Fuck that, you were *the* X-Man. The Wolverine. He’s a hero in my world.”

Logan’s expression darkens, his voice cold and distant. “Yeah, well, he ain’t shit in mine.”

My eyes cast down, fingers tapping on the counter gently. The weight of Logan’s words hangs in the air, a reminder of the pain and regret that lingers between us.

“We should head out,” I say quietly, breaking the silence that has settled over us.

Logan seems eager to go, standing up quickly, the urgency clear in his movements. The three of us pack up and leave in a rush, exiting the diner and beginning a slow walk. I take the lead, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words.

Wade breaks the quiet, his voice unusually soft. “Pumpkin, you never told us how you got here.”

I glance at Logan, knowing he already knows the story. It was one of the first things I told him, the memory still raw. My heart aches at the thought of what we’ve lost, what I couldn’t save.

“I was too slow,” I admit, the words heavy on my tongue. “I tried to change the outcome of our world—the death of my friends, my family—that’s all on me.”

Logan’s voice is a quiet rumble beside me. “No, that’s on me too.”

I shake my head, refusing to let him take the blame. “You couldn’t have known. I did, in a way. I could have practiced more, gotten better, maybe seen more.”

The conversation falls silent, the weight of our shared guilt pressing down on us. I can tell our conversation has run its course.

Next Part

A/N: Fuck it, I’m staying up late to write because this is entirely self-indulgent.

taglist: @oscarissac2099 @somiaw

comment if you want to be added!

[pretzel-box]

PART 4 | MASTERLIST HERE

Tags: Mentions of violence, Injuries, Cruel Behaviour in general. It's dark content. Painter included. Slow burn starting now!

Trigger warnings: Force Feeding, Isolation, different types of Abuse

Words: 5,4k

Authors Note: First, this will be one of the last extremly violent chapters of AASB, going to announce more in the next chapter. For all people who wanna stop the series: The first part will be skip able in future. The series officially starts it's main plot now.

Also everything here is pure fiction. I do not support behaviour shown in this fiction or similar things.

You lay on the cold, unforgiving ground, surrendering to the soft glow of Sebastian’s lure. The shadows that had clung to you like a second skin began to peel away, retreating in the face of that delicate light. You let yourself sink into its gentleness, a stark contrast to the harsh brutality you knew all too well. The light kissed your skin with a softness that mocked the cruelty of his nature, and you almost allowed yourself to forget, for just a moment, the monster standing before you. A faint ringing filled your ears, like distant bells swaying in the wind—haunting, persistent, pulling you deeper into the quiet of your own mind.

Sebastian had hurled you to the ground with newfound force, his face twisted into a mask of disgust and seething anger. The tenderness that once lived in his eyes was gone, replaced by the stark void of his hatred. It was in that moment you understood—Sebastian Solace’s hatred ran deeper than any ocean, plunging into unfathomable depths where light couldn’t reach.

Trusting him had been your mistake, one that now felt like a betrayal to yourself. You had dug your own grave the moment you allowed yourself to believe in him, each passing day another shovel of dirt thrown into the hole you were carving. You could feel it now, the weight of your naivety, pressing down on you like the earth you had prepared for your unmarked tomb. How you loathed yourself—each breath you took was heavy with self-hatred, each beat of your heart a reminder of your foolishness. You were a creature cursed, revolting even to yourself.

The world watched with cruel amusement as you wept silently in your mind, never daring to shed a tear in front of him. You knew better—Sebastian would feast on your weakness, your tears nothing more than a victory to him, a reminder of how thoroughly he had broken you.

“Let’s return,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the stillness like a jagged blade. Before you could even process his words, he was hauling you off the ground, two of his arms wrapping around your torso with a bruised force that could be fatal if he wished it to be. He slung you over his shoulder with brutal efficiency, the suddenness of it stealing the breath from your lungs. His shoulder dug into your stomach, the pressure sending waves of pain radiating through your abdomen, but you swallowed the whimper threatening to escape. You knew better than to complain.

Each of his steps sent jolts through your body, the world swaying violently with his movements. It reminded you of the ride in the submarine, the same sickening lurch of your stomach as the vessel dove deeper into the abyss. But this was worse—there was no escaping the pain, no reprieve from the way his shoulder pressed cruelly into your stomach, no chance to catch your breath. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, drawing blood as you forced yourself to remain silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing you in pain.

The cold night air stung your skin like tiny needles, mingling with the heat of your bruises. You could feel Sebastian’s anger simmering just beneath the surface, a volatile force that could erupt at any moment. His grip on you was firm, almost punishing, as if he was holding back the urge to let his rage fully take over. His claws scraped against your skin, digging into the fabric of your diving suit as if he wanted to tear you apart right there and then. Each movement he did was heavy, deliberate, like he was slithering off the edge of the world—and taking you with him.

The silence between you was suffocating, the only sound his labored breathing, harsh and uneven like the growl of a beast barely restrained. The path ahead felt endless, shrouded in the same darkness that now consumed your mind, but you knew you had no choice but to endure. You had to let him carry you, helpless as you were, hoping that wherever his fury led, it wouldn't be darker than the void you were already in.

The air grew colder still as the familiar scent of rust and oil hit your senses, signaling your approach to his shop. When the heavy metallic door of the back room creaked open, the dim light inside cast long, warped shadows across the cluttered space. Tools and scraps of metal littered the floor, and the walls were lined with the remnants of failed projects. It was a dismal sanctuary, a reflection of the twisted mind that now held you captive. The memories of the strange camaraderie you once shared seemed distant now, almost transparent, like fleeting dreams dissolving in the harsh light of reality.

Your stomach churned as you took it all in, the fluttering hope you once felt now turned to heavy stones, weighing you down.

Sebastian didn't speak as he carried you inside, his grip still unyielding. He finally dropped you unceremoniously onto the cold concrete floor, and your legs wobbled, barely holding you as you stumbled forward. You struggled to catch your breath, the sharp, metallic taste of blood still on your tongue.

Moving with an eerie calm, Sebastian reached for a heavy iron chain hanging from the wall. The sound of it dragging across the floor echoed ominously through the small space, sending a shiver down your spine. He knelt in front of you, his fingers rough and uncaring as he clamped the shackle around your ankle, the rusted metal biting into your flesh with a finality that made your heart sink.

The weight of the chain was oppressive, a cruel reminder of your captivity. As he stood, his towering figure cast a long shadow over you, and for a brief moment, his gaze lingered on you—dark, unreadable, devoid of the person he had once been. The silence between you was thick, charged with the unspoken tension of a thousand unshed tears, a thousand shattered dreams.

Finally, Sebastian turned away, retreating into the shadows of the hallway, his heavy movements echoing ominously in the cold space. The quiet clink of the chain as you shifted was the only sound that followed his departure, but just as you thought he had left you to the silence, his voice cut through the darkness once more—quiet, yet filled with a chilling rage that twisted your stomach into knots.

"Touch something, and I'll tear off your fingers one by one, make you chew on them." His voice, disembodied in the distance, crawled across your skin, each word heavy with venom. "Stay there. Be quiet. He will watch you, in case you're stupid enough to believe your dumb little self ever had a chance of escape. Every step you take, every breath you breathe—it will all lead to your final moment."

His threat hung in the air, thick and suffocating, the darkness of the hallway swallowing his presence, but the weight of his words lingered. Any remaining resolve you had left crumbled in that moment, your body giving way to the exhaustion and fear that had been gnawing at you from the inside. The little bit of self-control you’d been clinging to dissolved into dust, and you collapsed, sinking to the floor once more.

Your cheek met the cold, slick surface of the ground, a puddle of stagnant water pooling beneath you. The chill seeped into your skin, numbing the bruises that painted your body in shades of angry red and purple. The sharp sting from the fresh marks softened slightly as the water cooled them, offering the smallest reprieve in a moment that had become nothing but pain. Your fingers, trembling with the remnants of adrenaline and fear, lifted weakly, tugging at the chain that bound you to the spot. It rattled slightly, but the metal didn’t give—it was unyielding, unbreakable. The realization settled in like lead in your stomach: you were going nowhere.

You stared at the chain, the rusted links heavy and rough against your skin, testing its strength with a futile pull. It was clear that the chain wouldn’t move, that there would be no escape. The metal was too strong, too securely fastened to the wall, and you knew that trying to free yourself would only leave you more broken than you already were. You’d sooner tear off your own limb than remove the shackle that held you prisoner.

A deep sense of helplessness crept over you, suffocating in its intensity. The cold floor pressed against you, and the oppressive weight of the chain seemed to mirror the crushing burden of your circumstances. You were trapped—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, ensnared by Sebastian's cruelty, by the darkness that had taken root in him, and by the twisted, nightmarish reality that had consumed you both.

The sound of your shallow breaths filled the silence, the quiet clinking of the chain a constant reminder of your newfound situation. You could feel your heart beating heavily in your chest, each thud like a drumbeat of dread, echoing through the stillness of the shop. There was no one to hear your cries, no one to offer you comfort or solace. You were utterly alone.

In the distance, something shifted—a light flickering just barely out of sight, alarming you from the shadows and as Sebastian had promised you, you felt something or someone gaze at you. You didn’t need to see it to know it was there, his presence a dark, looming threat that kept you rooted in place. Every movement you made, every breath you took, was being monitored, controlled. There was no room for defiance, no space for hope. You were at the mercy of a person whose cruelty knew no bounds.

As the hours stretched on, the cold seeped deeper into your bones, and exhaustion began to take its toll. Your body felt heavy, weighed down by the chain, the bruises, the fear. But even as your eyelids fluttered, too tired to stay open, your mind remained restless, unable to escape the nightmare that had become your reality. You didn’t know what would come next, but the dread that gnawed at you made it clear—it wouldn’t be anything good.

“My, my. What a sight. You must be exhausted, hm? I’m sorry to see that. Actually, I’m not. But manners, am I right?”

The voice was smooth yet dripping with sarcasm, echoing around the room. Your eyes darted to the corners, searching for the source, but the space was empty, save for you and the suffocating darkness. At first, you thought it was just the weight of your own thoughts manifesting into cruel whispers. But this was different—clearer, sharper, too vivid to be a mere figment of your mind.

“Sebastian spoke about you. Well, I saw you two around, and I must admit,” the voice continued, a cruel edge slicing through its tone, “it made me digitally gag to see you being all lovey with him. What did you expect?”

Your body trembled, whether from the cold, the pain, or the creeping terror, you couldn’t tell. The voice was relentless, mocking you with each passing second. Was it your own mind finally breaking under the pressure? Had you gone completely mad, hallucinating voices that only added to your torment?

“Oh, Sebby~ Marry me! Kiss me! I love you, my wonderful strong man,” the voice sang mockingly, its tone twisted into a grotesque parody of your affection for Sebastian. It was like it was pulling memories from your deepest insecurities, twisting them into something vile, something repulsive.

The nausea rose in your throat as the voice continued, its words a dagger to your pride, to your self-worth. “You, yeah you, little maggot. You’re nothing more than a small, filthy animal. A distraction to him.”

Your heart sank deeper, your mind unable to grasp the weight of it all. The words were harsh, brutal, hitting like blows you couldn’t defend against. The worst part? A piece of you believed it. You always had, in the darkest corners of your mind.

“I.”

“Can’t.”

“Allow.”

“THAT.”

The final word was like a trigger. In an instant, the warm yellow lights flickered before plunging the room into darkness. Seconds later, an eerie red glow filled the space, the emergency lights kicking in. They cast twisted shadows on the walls, making the room feel even smaller, more oppressive. The faint hum of the machinery faded into silence, replaced by the steady drip of water and the pounding of your own heartbeat.

Your breath hitched, fear tightening its grip around your chest as the voice carried on, undeterred by the change in atmosphere. “You were a distraction from the very moment you set foot on this ground. What did you expect? A warm welcome?” It laughed, a sound so devoid of warmth it sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, you. You are so dead that it warms my digital heart.”

There was a brief pause, almost as if the voice was savoring the tension, the fear it had created. The red light bathed the room in a hellish glow, and the wet floor beneath you felt even colder, seeping through your clothes and chilling you to the bone.

“Sebastian loathes you so much,” the voice purred, each word like venom slipping into your veins. “Keep being like that, and he will gut you with his claws, hang you outside his shop as a snack for our little wall-dwelling friends.”

The imagery hit you like a punch to the gut. Your mind conjured images of yourself hanging lifelessly from some rusted hook, your body torn apart, Sebastian’s eyes cold and indifferent as he offered you up like some worthless sacrifice. The thought left you gasping for air, your chest tight with panic.

The voice circled around you like a predator, never showing itself, only speaking in cruel, tormenting tones. Every word chipped away at your already fragile state, leaving you teetering on the edge of despair. You had been pushed so far, and this—whatever this was—felt like the final push over the precipice.

“Face it,” the voice hissed, dripping with malice. “You were never important. Not to him, not to anyone. And soon, you’ll be nothing more than a forgotten memory, rotting in the dark.”

The red light flickered again, casting the room into momentary darkness before returning to its ominous glow. You could hear your own shaky breaths, the sound of the chain clinking as you tried, once more, to pull yourself up. But you couldn’t. You were too weak, too broken.

The voice fell silent for a moment, as if satisfied with the damage it had done. But you knew it wasn’t finished. It was waiting, watching, savoring the fear coursing through your veins like a twisted game.

In the silence that followed, all you could do was lie there, helpless and trembling, waiting for whatever nightmare would come next.

The door slammed open a while later with a deafening crash, sending a tremor through the cold, darkened room. You jolted at the sound, instinctively curling in on yourself as best you could with the chain still clamped around your ankle. Sebastian had returned.

His silhouette filled the doorway, towering and menacing. His once familiar frame, the one that used to offer you comfort, was now nothing but a looming shadow of cruelty. He trudged into the room, his arms laden with rusted metal scraps, chains, and jagged pieces of equipment, the weight of it all clattering to the floor in a heap.

You stared at the pile, heart pounding. The heavy scent of oil and rust filled the air, almost suffocating, mixing with the stale dampness that lingered from the puddle beneath you. Sebastian’s face was devoid of any expression, but his eyes—they were cold, dead, like pits of endless darkness.

He turned toward you, his gaze settling on your trembling form. There was no affection left, no trace of the man you once trusted. Without a word, he bent down to rummage through the scraps he’d brought, pulling out a tangle of wires and a metal pipe, testing their strength in his hands.

You watched him, fear spreading like ice in your veins. You tried to speak, to plead with him, but the words lodged in your throat, blocked by the growing terror. He noticed your gaze, his lips curling into a humorless smirk.

“Still think I’m gonna play nice?” he muttered, his voice thick with disdain. He tossed the pipe aside, slithering toward you with measured, deliberate strides.

Your stomach churned as he bent down before you, his large frame casting a shadow over your already shivering body while the red emergency lights framed his body from behind. He grabbed a metal bowl from beside the pile, filled with a strange mush that looked more like something scraped off a filthy factory floor than actual food.

“Eat.” His voice was cold, commanding.

You shook your head instinctively, repulsed by the sight of the disgusting slop. But Sebastian wasn’t having it. In a swift, brutal motion, he grabbed your jaw, forcing it open with a strong and painful grip. His other hand shoved the bowl towards your mouth, spilling the foul-smelling substance down your throat.

You gagged violently, choking on the taste as you tried to turn your head away in a pitiful attempt. But his grip was iron, unyielding like the chain around your ankle. Another set of fresh tears blurred your vision as the sensation of the slimy food rejecting it with every swallow. Still, Sebastian forced more into your mouth, his hand relentless.

“You don't get to decide what to eat or when you eat.” He cursed, it was clear that his little attitude pissed him off dearly.

Sebastian’s eyes flicked upward, narrowing as the faintest sound echoed through the room—a soft, metallic scrape, like something sliding across the vents above. His expression darkened, and he moved swiftly, grabbing a rag from the nearest table. Without hesitation, he turned back to you, eyes blazing with irritation.

“You stay quiet. Understand?” he hissed, his voice low and threatening.

You barely had time to react before he roughly jammed the rag into your mouth, gagging you with a sudden, forceful shove. The musty fabric pressed against your tongue, cutting off any chance of speech, and you choked slightly, tears springing to your eyes as the gag tightened painfully around your jaw. Sebastian didn’t care. He secured it tightly, making sure there was no way for you to spit it out.

The scraping sound grew louder, the unmistakable noise of someone crawling through the ventilation system. Sebastian’s head snapped in the direction of the noise, his lips curling into a sneer.

“An expendable,” he muttered to himself, as if the very thought disgusted him.

Without another word, Sebastian grabbed you by the arm, dragging you across the room with ease. You stumbled, legs shaking beneath you, as he roughly shoved you behind a stack of debris and rusted crates. The hard metal edges scraped against your skin as you were wedged into a narrow space, hidden completely from view.

His hand lingered on your shoulder for a brief moment, his grip tight and bruising. He leaned down close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Not a sound,” he whispered, his voice cold and final. “If they find you, I’ll make sure they never leave this place alive—and you’ll wish you never left that damn floor.”

With that, he turned sharply, moving away from your hiding spot with a calm, deliberate stride. You could hear the soft clink of tools being moved as he pretended to busy himself with the clutter on his files and items, acting as though nothing unusual was happening at all.

Your heart raced in your chest, the gag muffling your shallow breaths as you crouched behind the debris, every muscle in your body tense with fear. The faint echo of movement in the vents grew louder, closer, and then—finally—a metal grate fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could just make out the figure dropping down from the vent. The expendable customer, covered in grime and sweat from their journey, straightened up, looking around the shop with wide eyes. They appeared nervous, their gaze darting around the room as though expecting something—or someone—to jump out at them.

Sebastian didn’t look up at first, continuing to tinker with some random tool on his table. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the weight of it pressing down on you as you remained frozen in your hiding spot.

“Uh... h-hey,” the expendable stammered, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “I was... I was sent for a quick purchase. Heard you’ve got some code breachers for me.”

Sebastian finally turned, his expression cool and detached. He wiped his hands on a rag, tossing it aside before speaking.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “I don’t have any. Also you're late. I was about to close.”

The expendable gulped, looking even more anxious than before. “Sorry! It’s just... the vents, y’know? Not exactly the easiest way to get around. I didn’t mean to—”

“Spare me the excuses,” Sebastian cut in sharply, stepping closer to the newcomer. “You want code breachers? No. And next time you make me wait, I won’t be so generous and keep it at no but show you what it means to disturb me.”

You couldn’t see Sebastian’s face from where you were hidden, but you could feel the cold menace in his tone. The expendable, clearly intimidated, nodded quickly, fumbling with their pack as they prepared to make the exchange.

Your pulse quickened, every nerve in your body screaming for you to stay still, to remain silent. From your cramped hiding spot, you could hear the faint rustle of the transaction taking place, but your mind was too fogged with panic to process it. The metallic taste of the gag filled your mouth, making you feel sick as you struggled to keep your breathing steady.

A few minutes passed, though they felt like hours, and finally, the expendable mumbled a hurried thanks before turning to leave. You heard the clatter of boots as they climbed back into the vent, the grate rattling shut behind them.

Sebastian waited until the sound of their movements faded completely before he moved again. He approached your hiding spot, his tail scapes against the floor slow and deliberate as he crouched down in front of you, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

Without a word, he reached for the gag, yanking it roughly from your mouth. The sudden freedom made you gasp for air, your lips sore and bruised from the pressure of the cloth. But before you could say anything, his hand shot out, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Remember,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “You’re nothing here. And if you think for a second that anyone’s coming to save you, you’re dead wrong.”

With that, he released your chin.

You swallowed hard, the metallic taste of the gag still lingering on your tongue as your mind raced with desperation. Every bruise on your body throbbed, a constant reminder of your helplessness, your complete powerlessness. But something inside you, some flicker of survival, pushed you to speak. Maybe there was a way out. Maybe if you could make yourself useful and get him items, Sebastian wouldn’t see you as just another burden, another thing to be crushed beneath his heel.

You forced yourself to your feet, even though your legs trembled beneath you, and moved from your hiding spot. Sebastian hadn’t gone far. He stood a few feet away, tinkering with the pile of scrap he had gathered earlier, his back turned to you. The soft clinks of metal scraping together echoed in the dim shop, blending with the faint hum of the remaining lights overhead.

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, but you had to push past it. There was no other choice.

“Sebastian,” you rasped, your voice weak but determined. He didn’t respond immediately, his hands continuing to work on whatever twisted piece of metal lay in front of him. You swallowed again, throat dry, and forced yourself to take a step closer. “Let me help.”

At that, he froze, his hands hovering over the tools. Slowly, he straightened, turning his head just enough to glance at you from the corner of his eye. The silence stretched unbearably, and for a moment, you wondered if you had made a mistake. If he was about to lash out, to hurt you more than you could handle. But you pressed on, your desperation outweighing your fear.

“I... I know I’m nothing to you,” you continued, voice trembling. “But I can be useful. I can help you. Whatever you’re planning—whatever you need to do—I’ll do it. I’ll be your tool, your... your instrument. Just don’t throw me away.”

His head turned fully now, eyes narrowing as he studied you. His expression was unreadable, cold and calculating as he took in your words, your trembling form. You felt the weight of his gaze settle on you like a suffocating blanket, but you didn’t back down. You couldn’t. This was your only chance.

“I know I’m weak,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But you can use that, can’t you? No one would expect me. No one would see me coming. I can do things for you that no one else can. I’ll be loyal. I’ll follow your orders without question. I swear.”

Sebastian’s lips curled slightly, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something darker, something twisted. He took a step closer, and instinctively, you flinched, but you stood your ground, heart pounding in your chest.

“And why,” he said slowly, voice low and dangerous, “would I trust someone like you? A tool is only as valuable as its reliability. And you?” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your face. “You’ve proven to be nothing but a nuisance.”

You clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as you forced yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “Because I have nothing left,” you whispered. “I’ve already lost everything. You... you’re the only thing I have now. If I can be of use to you, then that’s all that matters. I’ll be whatever you need me to be.” You played the submissive victim, trying to fool him once again.

For a moment, the room was silent. Sebastian’s eyes bored into yours, searching, testing. Then, slowly, he straightened, his expression darkening.

“So, you want to be useful, do you?” he said, his tone mocking. “You want to be my tool? My little puppet?”

You nodded, heart hammering in your chest. “Yes.”

He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hand shot out, grabbing you by the jaw with bruising force. His fingers dug into your skin, and you winced, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

“You’ll regret those words,” he murmured, his voice a cold whisper against your ear. “Because once you’re mine, there’s no going back. I will use you. I will break you. And when I’m done, there will be nothing left of who you were. Nothing.”

You shuddered, but you nodded again, the words catching in your throat. “I understand,” you croaked.

Sebastian released you, pushing you back slightly as he took a step away, his eyes gleaming with something dark, something dangerous.

“Fine,” he said, his voice laced with cruel amusement. “Let’s see how useful you can be.”

He turned back to the pile of scrap, gesturing to the tools scattered around. “Start by cleaning this mess up. And don’t think about running. Because if you do... I’ll make sure you regret ever thinking you could outsmart me.”

You dropped to your knees immediately, grabbing the tools with trembling hands.

You hesitated for a long moment, the memory of that mocking voice still fresh in your mind. It had been gnawing at you ever since the encounter, the cruel taunts echoing in your head like a relentless reminder of your growing desperation. Now, with Sebastian looming over you as you fumbled with the tools he had tossed your way, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You had to tell him.

“Sebastian,” you started, your voice shaky as you glanced up at him from where you knelt on the ground. He didn’t respond right away, still focused on the piece of scrap he was fiddling with, his brows furrowed in concentration. But you pressed on, your voice growing steadier as you spoke. “There’s… there’s something I need to tell you. Earlier, when you left me alone in here… I heard something.”

His movements slowed slightly, though he didn’t turn to look at you. “What did you hear?” he muttered, his tone indifferent, as if he was expecting some trivial complaint. You swallowed nervously, fingers gripping the wrench in your hand a little tighter.

“It was a voice,” you said quietly. “A man’s voice. He… he was talking to me. Mocking me.”

That got his attention. Sebastian stopped entirely now, his eyes snapping up to meet yours, a scowl forming on his face. “What the hell are you talking about?” he growled. “You were alone.”

“I know I was,” you stammered, your heart racing as you tried to explain. “But I swear, I heard him. He said horrible things. Called me… called me a distraction. Said you’d gut me and hang me outside like some kind of… of warning.”

Sebastian’s scowl deepened, and for a second, you thought he was going to lash out, accuse you of lying or going mad. But instead, he let out an irritated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if this was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in frustration. “Of course, he would do that.”

“He?” you echoed, confused. “So… I’m not crazy? There really was someone talking to me?”

Sebastian shot you a withering glare, his annoyance clear. “It wasn’t just someone. It was someone I work with. A temporary helper.”

“A helper?” you repeated, still not quite following.

He tossed the scrap metal aside with a loud clatter and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at you as if this whole situation was your fault. “Yeah, a helper. Painter, to be specific. He’s a glorified AI that Urbanshape trapped and a while back I asked him to help me with surveillance and data tracking. His main purpose is keeping an eye on things and handling some of the tech around here. Also, keeping the crystal secure from those filthy human idiots.”

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. “So… Painter’s an AI? But why would he talk to me like that? Why would he mock me?”

Sebastian scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Because he’s an insufferable bastard if he wants to be,” he growled. “I gave him too much freedom for personality when I struck a deal with him. Thought it’d make him more efficient, but all it did was make him a smug little prick. He likes to mess with people. Especially weak ones.”

You flinched at the jab, but you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. At least now you knew you weren’t losing your mind. The voice had been real, even if it was just some sadistic AI.

“He watches everything,” Sebastian continued, his voice gruff as he turned back to his work. “If he saw you stumbling around like an idiot, he probably decided to have a little fun at your expense. Don’t take it personally. He’s just doing what he wants to do.”

You nodded slowly, processing the information. “So… is he always watching? Even now?”

“Most likely,” Sebastian muttered, not looking at you. “He’s everywhere where I want him to be. The shop, the vents, the cameras. He sees everything, and he loves to play god when he can and when I allow him.”

You shuddered at the thought, the idea of being constantly watched by some twisted AI unsettling. But you swallowed down the discomfort, not wanting to show any more weakness in front of Sebastian. You’d already been humiliated enough.

“Just ignore him,” Sebastian added, his tone dismissive. “The more you react, the more he’ll push.”

“But, Painer will always be on my leash.”

[amygdalae]

watched the first ep of the fallout show. its not good but like i had a lot of fun being a hater and talking abt fallout lore n shit with my friend while watching it, so it has that in its favor. my biggest takeaways after the first episode are thus:

shamefully failed to suppress the urge to pog when they namedropped Grognak the barbarian like 15 seconds into the show. whole thing was peppered with references designed to invoke peoples fallout nostalgia. i wont lie it got me a few times

kyle maclachlan babygirl what are you doing here

needs to be so so much grimier

they wanted me to cream my jeans at the power armor sooo bad but they made it look kind of stupid. (and also not grimy enough). im so tired of the brotherhood of steel

i like the ghoul guy, I can live with him being too conventionally attractive i guess, but his voice is just straight up a normal guy's voice and that made me the angriest. he should at least sound like hes gargling marbles

the girl character's 'fiance' looked like if Jerma was a skarsgard brother

soundtrack was good (mostly just because it was just songs that were in the games already, but still). instrumental scoring was actually not too bad imo, seemed fitting enough

very very predictable plot beats

made me just wanna go play a fallout game tbh

I'm 100% going to keep watching it because im a disgusting bethesda shill who loves to shovel hot garbage into my mouth like a filthy hog (and because my friend's mom has an amazon subscription)

i am genuinely curious to see where it goes. goes without saying i resent the irony of a fallout series being made by amazon and dont think its something that needs to exist, but reviewing it as a show i think it has some potential to get interesting. gonna see how i feel after watching more

[rottenpumpkin13]

People are worried Angeal is gonna be another Zack in Episode 2 and it for me thinking:

Angeal is just Zack on weed and that's why he's not bouncing off the walls. Someone take his weed away.

Miniroth is about to meet Angeal in his pre-weed days, pray for him

*Sephiroth is seeing Angeal for the first time from afar*

Sephiroth: He looks like a responsible, level-headed individual. His sword indicates that he's proficient in combat and his stature means he is older, and therefore wiser.

*Sephiroth walks up to him*

Sephiroth: Hello, my name is—

Angeal: Genesis pushed me out of an apple tree when I was twelve, so I hit my head and blacked out, but I had a dream where I met the goddess who suggested that I beat Genesis' ass, but then when I regained consciousness, Genesis was digging a hole to bury me because he thought he had committed a murder, so then I did indeed beat his ass with the shovel, but then he cried and claimed that "Sephiroth would never treat me like this!" so then I said "wanna bet?" and now I ask, would you, if given a shovel and encouragement, beat Genesis with it? If you say yes, he owes me 20 gil which I will then use to purchase apple seeds, grow my own tree, climb it, and then throw myself from it just as I fell when I was twelve, except this time when I meet the goddess I'll beg her to take me early.

Sephiroth: Am I having a stroke?

[repurposedmeatlocker]

Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on - two years ago on Thanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the restaurant, but Alice doesn't live in the restaurant, she lives in the church nearby the restaurant, in the bell-tower, with her husband Ray, and Fasha the dog. And living in the bell tower like that, they got a lot of room downstairs where the pews used to be in. Having all that room, seeing as how they took out all the pews, they decided that they didn't have to take out their garbage for a long time. We got up there, we found all the garbage in there, and we decided it would be a friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump

So we took the half a ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VW Microbus, took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the city dump. Well, we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across across the Dump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving". And we had never heard of a dump closed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove off into the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage. We didn't find one. Until we came to a side road, and off the side of the side road there was another fifteen foot cliff, and at the bottom of the cliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we decided to throw ours down. That's what we did, and drove back to the church, had a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep and didn't get up until the next morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie.

He said, "Kid, we found your name on an envelope at the bottom of a half a ton of garbage, and just wanted to know if you had any information about it." And I said, "Yes, sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie, I put that envelope under that garbage." After speaking to Obie for about forty-five minutes on the telephone we finally arrived at the truth of the matter and said that we had to go down And pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak to him at the police officer's station. So we got in the red VW Microbus with the shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the police officer's station

Now friends, there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done at the police station, and the first was that he could have given us a medal for being so brave and honest on the telephone, which wasn't very likely, and we didn't expect it, and the other thing was that he could have bawled us out and told us never to be seen driving garbage around the vicinity again, which is what we expected, but when we got to the police officer's station, there was a third possibility that we hadn't even counted upon, and we was both immediately arrested. Handcuffed. And I said "Obie, I don't think I can pick up the garbage with these handcuffs on." He said, "Shut up, kid. Get in the back of the patrol car."

And that's what we did, sat in the back of the patrol car and drove to the, quote, "Scene of the Crime," unquote. I wanna tell you about the town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, where this happened here, they got three stop signs, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to the "Scene of the Crime" there was five police officers and three police cars, being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to get in the newspaper story about it. And they was using up all kinds of cop equipment that they had hanging around the police officer's station; they was taking plaster tire tracks, foot prints, dog smelling prints, and they took twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was, to be used as evidence against us. Took pictures of the approach, the getaway, the northwest corner, the southwest corner and that's not to mention the aerial photography

After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was going to put us in the cell. Said, "Kid, I'm going to put you in the cell, I want your wallet and your belt." And I said, "Obie, I can understand you wanting my wallet so I don't have any money to spend in the cell, but what do you want my belt for?" And he said, "Kid, we don't want any hangings." I said, "Obie, did you think I was going to hang myself for littering?" Obie said he was making sure, and friends, Obie was, cause he took out the toilet seat so I couldn't hit myself over the head and drown, and he took out the toilet paper so I couldn't bend the bars, roll out the - roll the toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obie was making sure, and it was about four or five hours later that Alice (remember Alice?), Alice came by and with a few nasty words to Obie on the side, bailed us out of jail, and we went back to the church, had another Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, and didn't get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court

We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, sat down. Man came in said, "All rise." We all stood up, and Obie stood up with the twenty seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing eye dog, and he sat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing eye dog, and then at the twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing eye dog and then at twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry, 'cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American Blind Justice, and there wasn't nothing he could do about it, and the judge wasn't going to look at the twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. And we was fined $50 and had to pick up the garbage in the snow

[babydollmarauders]

I absolutely love the el!hughes series can you do a blurb of Jack and the team/ Hughes family finding out reader is in labor if not that is totally ok. Have a great day!!

i wasn’t sure how to write the devils finding out y/n is in labor because i already kinda knew how jack would find out and it didn’t match up with the team finding out, so i apologize and i hope you still like this! i might write another blurb in third person pov with the devils on call with jack and finding out!

———

i wasn’t even awake yet when my water broke. in fact, i woke up on wet sheets and to dull pain in my back and lower abdomen.

the baby isn’t due for another week, so immediately i assume that it’s braxton hicks contractions and that i accidentally peed myself while i slept, as i’ve heard it can happen to pregnant women.

i rise from the bed, deep breathing through my pain as i change the bed sheets, just glad Jack was at morning skate and wouldn’t be privy to my embarrassment.

padding down the hallway, i throw the old sheets in the washer before making my way back to Jack and i’s room and into the en suite bathroom. turning the shower water on warm, i strip my pajamas, determined to power through the pain.

it’s not long into my shower that i hear Jack enter the bathroom, obviously home from morning skate.

“hey, how was skate?” i ask him through glass shower walls while i rinse the conditioner out of my hair.

“it was good. i think we’ve got a high chance of beating them tonight.” he tells me. through the foggy glass i can see him sit on the bathroom counter top, not an unusual occurrence, as Jack often sits in here and converses with me while i shower.

“mother of hell!” i curse, grabbing at my bump as i hunch over in pain.

“woah, you okay? what’s wrong?” Jack jumps off the counter when i don’t respond, ripping the shower door open to look at me.

“it’s just braxton hicks. i’m fine, i just need to drink some water and put my feet up.” i tell him, turning off the shower water. he hands me my towel as i step out and holds me by my arm as i walk into our bedroom.

“are you sure? maybe we should go to the hospital.” he’s panicked, his words fast.

“seriously, Jacky, i’m okay. it’s my body, i think i would know if i was in labor.”

i get dressed as normal, Jack watching me worriedly as i do so, before making my way to the kitchen to eat some breakfast.

in the midst of pouring my cereal, the pain gets worse, and it’s at this moment when i decide that maybe i’m wrong. the pains aren’t as spaced out anymore, it’s possible i could be in labor. maybe it was actually my water breaking and i didn’t wet the bed. however, i refuse to go to the hospital before i can eat.

sitting at the table, i call out to my husband in between bites.

“Jack?”

“yeah, babe?” he’s sitting on the couch with Luke, watching Top Gun when he replies, his eyes never even leaving the screen.

“you should call your mom.” i tell him.

“hmm? why?” he keeps the same distracted tone, never looking away from the movie.

“because i’m in labor.”

“oh okay.” i can’t help but laugh, he obviously didn’t hear me or wasn’t paying enough attention. but Luke definitely did because he suddenly sits up straight on the couch, his head snapping to look over at me as he smacks Jack on the chest.

“ow, what?” Jack groans, finally tearing his eyes from the tv to look at his brother.

“you wanna ask your wife to repeat what she just said? because you obviously weren’t listening.” Luke says, nodding over to me. Jack turns to look at me as i shovel the last bite into my mouth.

“sorry, babe. what did you say?”

“i said you should call your mom.” i respond.

“yeah, i heard that. but, why?” he furrows his brows at me as i put my bowl in the sink, rinsing it out.

“because i’m in labor.” i repeat. his eyes grow wide as he shoots up from the couch.

“oh my god. do we have everything? did we even finish packing the hospital bag? we’re having a baby, holy shit.”

i’m about to speak up, but Luke beats me to it.

“bro, calm the fuck down! just take Lovie to the hospital. if there’s anything missing from the bag, i can bring it. just go!”

Jack nods, ushering me towards the front door as he grabs the hospital bag from our bedroom.

it doesn’t even seem like he’s calmed down once we arrive to the hospital. we sit in the waiting room for no longer than fifteen minutes before getting taken back to a private room. doctors and nurses rotate out of the room for a good hour before we’re finally able to relax.

“i should probably call my parents now? right?” he asks, sitting down on a small couch in the room. i nod, breathing through a contraction.

he calls Ellen. the phone rings a few times before the call connects and Jack switches it onto speaker.

“hey, sweetheart! you ready for your game?” she asks him.

“oh shit, i still need to call coach.” he looks over at me like a deer in headlights.

“what, honey? what do you mean?” Ellen chimes over the phone.

“uh, Lovie’s in labor, mom.”

“what?! i told your dad we should’ve come this week instead of next!” she chides. “how is y/n feeling? are you guys at the hospital yet?”

“she’s-” Jack looks back over to asses me and i give him a thumbs up. “good. she says she’s fine. yeah, we got here about an hour ago.”

“okay! i’m glad she’s feeling okay! your dad and i will be on the next flight we can get out there!”

“okay. i’ll see you then, mom. i gotta let coach know i can’t play tonight, so i gotta go.”

“okay, bye honey! see you as soon as i can!”

Jack sighs after he hangs up, holding his head in his hands.

“we’re gonna be parents.”

[caranfindel]

Walker fic: Die young, stay pretty

When I saw episode 1.17 of Walker, “Dig,” I knew I needed a version with more whump. So here it is.

~~~

Emily was right, as usual.

“I wouldn’t ever dig my own grave.” Cordell had said that once, years ago. They were watching some forgettable movie (was it about cowboys? or maybe gangsters?) with a man being forced to dig a shallow grave at gunpoint. “If I’m gonna get shot anyway, why would I go through all that first? I’d just say no and let them shoot me then and there. Let the goons dig the hole.”

“But what if you wanted to use that time to think?” Emily had said. “To come up with a plan? Or to give someone else time to come rescue you?”

He’d laughed and pulled her closer. ”I’m the cavalry, sweetheart. No one’s gonna rescue me. I do the rescuing. Nah, I’d just call his bluff and say go ahead and shoot me, you dumbass goon. And keep in mind, you’re gonna have to dig a hell of a big hole if you wanna hide all this.”

But she had been right, as she always was. Because now he’s being held at gunpoint by a couple of - a couple of goons, the only word for them is goons - and he’s digging a hole that is surely meant to be his grave. And he’s watching and waiting for his opening. After all, he was right about one thing: no one’s going to rescue him.

Goon #1 is closer. Goon #2 is distracted, watching for someone, rifle slung over his shoulder, but Goon #1 is focused. Cordell’s knee buckles and he pauses for a moment to lean the shovel against the edge of the pit, to sweep the sweat out of his eyes and breathe for a little bit. Partly to stall for time but mostly because he’s fucking exhausted and everything hurts. After the truck rollover, the forced hike to this clearing, and digging the pit at gunpoint, he feels like someone spent an hour beating the crap out of him.

Goon #1 narrows his eyes at him, then leans over and rests the barrel of his gun against Cordell’s temple. The metal is cold, even in the stifling Austin heat, and Cordell can feel his pulse pounding against it. He holds his hands up in surrender and picks up the shovel again.

When the person Goon #2 is watching for does show up, Cordell isn’t surprised that it’s Stan. Half of him has been hoping Mendoza was mistaken, or lying. That it was all a misunderstanding that could be explained away as easily as Geri’s connection to the money was explained away. But the other half of him recognized immediately that Mendoza was telling the truth. And that half is ready to finally get revenge, to finally look into the eyes of the person responsible for Emily’s death as he wraps his hands around their throat.

The biggest surprise, though, is when Stan drags a body out of his truck. Any remaining hope Cordell has about his old friend being innocent vanishes completely. He continues pushing the shovel into the ground, one eye trained on Goon #1.

Stan doesn’t speak to him. Doesn’t even look at him, really, and that’s a bad goddamn sign. Because if you’re going to kill a longtime family friend, murder him in cold blood and leave him in a shallow grave, it’s going to be hard to look him in the eye. Instead, Stan starts yelling at Goon #2 about plans gone wrong and needing time to think.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cordell watches Goon #1’s revolver dip lower as he’s distracted by the argument. When Goon #2 angrily shoves his rifle at Stan, Cordell makes his move. He swings the shovel into Goon #1’s solar plexus, knocking him into the pit. He grabs the guy’s gun with one hand and his neck with the other, pulls him in close, and pushes the barrel into his chest. One shot and Goon #1 is down.

He wheels toward Stan and Goon #2. The goon is running toward him, so Cordell takes him out with a shot to the core. Then his right arm explodes in a white hot flash of pain and the gun drops from his numb fingers. Stan is looking down at him from the edge of the pit, rifle trained on him.

���Sorry, son. I’m gonna need you to put your hands behind your head.”

“I’m kinda defenseless here, Stan.” Cordell’s right arm hangs limp and useless at his side. Blood runs down his fingertips, pattering onto the broken earth. He nods toward the body lying next to Stan’s truck. “What about that guy? Was he defenseless too? When you killed him?”

“That was an accident.”

“And Emily? Was she an accident?”

Stan sighs. "I didn't want anything to happen to Emily. You have to know that, Cordell. I never would have hurt her if I had a choice, not for the world. But there was nothing I could do. She saw something they didn’t want anyone to see, and that was that. If I had tried to save her, they would have killed me and her. I couldn’t save her.”

“Sure,” Cordell says. He somehow manages to sound calm, even though everything inside of him is screaming. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Stan is still pointing the rifle at his chest. So this is it, then. Stan killed Emily and he’s about to kill Cordell and no one’s ever going to know. He wishes he’d told someone about his suspicions before he went running off on his own. He wishes he’d had a chance to hug his kids one more time, to say goodbye to his parents and his brother. He wishes a lot of things.

“I’m sorry it has to end like this,” Stan says. “I hate to do this. I really do.”

“Well, I’m sure it gets easier every time,” Cordell snaps. Time stretches out. He hears his own labored breathing, and the gentle drip of his blood hitting the dirt. He can almost hear his own heartbeat.

Then Stan’s mouth twitches into something that’s part smile, part grimace. “No,” he says quietly, “I don't believe it does.”

(I’m sorry, Em. I tried.)

There’s another bright burst of pain, and a thump in his chest like he’s been kicked by a horse. Cordell slumps against the side of the pit and then slips down into darkness.

~~~

“Hey, cowboy.”

They’re lying in a big bed. Not their bed, not their house. There are wooden beams running overhead and gauzy white curtains covering a glass door that opens onto a balcony. He can hear sounds from outside, music and happy voices floating up into their room. Emily’s head is on his shoulder, he’s running his fingers through her hair, and they’re barely paying attention to the television. There’s a movie on, gangsters or cowboys or something.

“You remember this place?” she asks.

He does. “That hotel in San Antonio, on the riverwalk. We came here for our anniversary. This is where we saw the movie, the one where the guy was digging his own grave, and I said I wouldn’t do that.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah, I did. And it didn’t matter. I didn’t come up with a plan and nobody rescued me.” He puts a finger on her chin and tilts her head up for a kiss. “It’s okay, though. At least I get to be here with you.”

Emily looks at him with sad dark eyes and doesn’t say anything.

~~~

Liam Walker spends his entire life watching his brother defy death. Cordell is always climbing things he shouldn't climb, taunting animals he shouldn't taunt, swimming in the pond on the south forty acres even though Daddy had warned them about snakes, inventing insane games with Hoyt Rawlins like truck surfing and rake jousting and chicken played against an angry bull. Die young, stay pretty, he always says. And if you survive, chicks dig scars, Hoyt always responds. Cordi considers himself invincible, and every day Liam fears he’ll be proven wrong.

But it isn't until Liam is ten years old that he starts seriously expecting his brother to die. Cordell gets arrested for something stupid, some ridiculous prank that involves breaking and entering and a fire and God knows what else, and their father lets him stew in the county jail overnight before bailing him out. The next day, Daddy is furious. Mama is horrified. And Liam stands in the hallway, listening unnoticed as they both light into his brother. “You're a goddamned idiot! You could have gotten yourself killed!” Cordell stands there and takes it, head bowed, but when he heads back to his room he winks at Liam and says "Die young, stay pretty, right?"

It doesn’t stop when Cordell graduates from high school; the stakes just get higher. Liam spends years waiting for his brother to return from Afghanistan in a flag-draped box. And then the undercover shitshow that almost feels like a passive suicide attempt, like some kind of subconscious mission to follow Emily into the dark. And the silent months at the end of it waiting for the phone call saying he'd done it; he'd died young.

All of this is to say that when Micki calls and says Cordell's truck has been found, wrecked and empty, Liam's second thought is he obviously got out, so he's just walking around somewhere in a daze; we'll find him and he'll be fine. But his first thought is maybe this is the day; maybe he finally did it.

Micki tells them all to stay home and let the proper authorities take care of it. Liam and his father ignore her. Abilene says she’ll stay at the house with Stella and Augie. "Someone needs to be here in case he comes home," she tells them. "You know how your daddy is. He'll get a ride from a friend and come strolling up here asking what's for dinner." And she might even believe it. But Liam can see on Stella’s face that her thoughts mirror his own. No, that's not how he is. How he is, is that he goes out and does something reckless, something crazy, something dangerous, and disappears, and you just sit and wait for someone to come tell you he's dead.

“He’s fine,” Liam tells her. He puts on his best everything will be okay expression, the one he wore for the kids so frequently when Cordell was gone. “We’ll find him. He’s fine.”

He almost believes it himself.

~~~

When Liam and Bonham pull up at the scene of the wreck, Micki greets them with an eyeroll. "Someday, one of the Walker boys is gonna do what I tell him to do."

"Maybe someday," says Bonham. "But not today."

The truck is a mess. Liam can’t imagine Cordell calmly getting out and walking away. "His phone's buried in here somewhere," Micki says. "I can hear it ringing when I call him. Things go flying around in a rollover. So it's possible he couldn't find it and he just started walking."

"But you don't think that's what happened," says Liam.

She pauses, as if considering how much to tell him. “Well, there’s this.” Micki motions them over to the driver's side and points to a scrape of grey paint. "Has he been in a wreck lately? Because this looks like he was hit by another car."

Bonham clenches his fists. "This is new. Someone did this? You think someone ran him off the road on purpose?"

"We don't know," Micki says. "It's entirely possible that it was an accident, and the other driver gave him a ride, maybe took him to the hospital. But no one has heard from him and he hasn't shown up in any local hospitals or walk-in clinics yet, so I think we're going to assume that isn't what happened. If it turns out I'm wrong, we'll just be pleasantly surprised. Right now we're calling in a search team and setting up a grid." She keeps talking, something about APBs and grey vehicles with red paint, but Liam is distracted by something on the ground. A long line scratched through the grass, as if gouged into the dirt by someone’s boot heel. It points away from the wreck, off into a line of trees about a hundred yards away.

"He went this way!"

Bonham and Micki turn to him, confused.

"Here, look. He used to do this when we'd play hide and seek, when I was little. He always left me a clue.” It took a long time for Liam to realize his big brother was doing it on purpose. For years, he just took pride in his observation skills. “He made this same mark for me. He pointed me in the right direction."

“All right then,” Bonham says. “We go that way.”

Micki puts a hand on his shoulder. “Wait. We’ll have a search team here in just a minute. We should…” She trails off, looking toward the trees. “No. Let’s go find him.”

~~~

They keep their eyes on the ground as they walk, looking for more lines scraped into the dirt. After five minutes or so, Liam is afraid it wasn’t an intentional signal after all, but Bonham spots the next one. Cordell is out here somewhere. Out here and signaling for help.

Micki stops to answer a radio call from the search team when they arrive on the scene, and Bonham slows down after several minutes of walking, so Liam is the one who crests a ridge first and sees it. A clearing. And in that clearing, a large mound of dirt that looks too much like a grave. He yells something. Later he won’t remember what it was, Cordell or Daddy or fuck, or something else. All he remembers later is that he’s screaming when he runs, is still screaming when he falls to his knees at the edge of the pile of dirt, when he sees the hand.

It isn’t Cordi’s hand. The fingers are too short and the hair on the back is too heavy, too dark. But it’s a man’s hand sticking out of this makeshift grave. Liam grabs it and pulls, but the rest of the man doesn’t budge. He starts frantically scooping away the loose dirt with his hands, revealing an arm and then a chest. Then he feels someone hit the ground next to him.

His father’s voice. “Oh God. That’s not -“

“No! Help me dig!”

In a moment Micki is there on her radio, giving coordinates and talking about shovels and an ambulance. Liam and Bonham manage to uncover the man’s upper body. His face has the grey cast of someone who’s been dead a few hours. Liam has no idea who he is, and honestly doesn’t care, because it’s not Cordell. He leans over to grab one arm and Bonham grabs the other. They’re finally able to pull the dead man out of the dirt, and Liam hears his father’s quick intake of breath as they see what was underneath the body. Who was underneath the body.

Cordell is leaning against the side of the pit as if he’d been seated and then slumped over in sleep. The body on top of him apparently shielded him from much of the dirt. He’s covered in dirt and what looks like blood, but the soil that was shoveled into this godforsaken hole didn’t cover his face. There was air there, at least for a while, if he was alive to breathe it.

They dump the dead man unceremoniously at the edge of the pit. Liam jumps into the hole and kneels next to his brother, putting his fingers against his throat. The man they just pulled out was cold, but Cordell’s skin is still warm. And there, against his fingertips - a flutter of movement. And then another, and another.

“He’s alive!” he yells. “Daddy, he’s still alive!”

Bonham had been moving slow and stiff, but he jumps into the pit with the agility of a decades-younger man. Together they frantically shove dirt away from Cordell. Micki’s there now, warning them to be careful, to wait for EMS, but Liam and his father know one thing - they’re getting Cordell out of this goddamn hole. Once they’ve cleared enough of the dirt away, Bonham grabs his legs and Liam bends Cordi’s torso forward so he can slide behind him. He grabs his arms and tries to get into position to lift his brother out of the pit. But when he lifts, Cordell wakes with a gasp of pain.

Liam eases him back as gently as he can, kneeling next to him. “Cordi,” he says. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Cordell’s eyes flicker open for a moment. “Liam?” His voice is faint and hoarse.

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay.” Which is a lie. Cordell is not okay. He’s not as grey as the body they pulled off of him, but his face is pale and his lips are faintly blue.

“Micki!” Bonham yells. “Where’s the ambulance?”

Micki doesn’t answer, but Liam looks up to see her several yards away, at the top of the ridge, facing away from them. She’s waving her arms to catch the ambulance driver’s attention. It must be close (please, God, let it be close).

Liam turns back to his brother. “Tell me what happened. Where are you hurt? Who did this?”

Cordell coughs wetly. “Stan. It was Stan Morrison.”

”Stan Morrison? What the - why? Why would he do this to you?”

Cordell opens his eyes and grasps at Liam. “He killed Emily. Tell Cap…” He stops and tries to take a deep breath. It triggers another wet cough. “Make sure James knows. He confessed. Stan killed Emily.”

Liam looks up and meets his father’s eyes to make sure they heard the same thing. Because that can’t be true. It can’t possibly be true.

“If I don’t make it…” Cordell coughs again. Blood splatters onto his lips, and bloody foam trickles from the side of his mouth. “Tell him. Tell him to talk to Mendoza. She was a witness, so Stan killed her. Promise, Liam. Make him talk to Mendoza.”

“Shut up. You can tell him yourself.” But Cordell’s eyes close and he goes silent.

The EMTs arrive and Micki pulls him away from his brother. “Let them do their job. He’ll be okay.” And then more officers are there and there are phone calls to be made and a statement to be taken (what do you need? I dug my not-quite-dead brother out of a grave and he says a family friend did it and also murdered his wife, for fuck’s sake, that’s all I know) and suddenly Liam looks up and sees the ambulance bouncing back toward the road. Bonham watches with him as it moves over the ridge and out of their sight, then slumps against a squad car. He looks pale and wiped out.

“Micki?” Liam says. “You think someone could give my dad a ride back to his truck?”

“I don’t need a ride!” Bonham snaps. “I’m fine.”

But Micki sees it too. “Mr. Walker,” she says, “They’re taking Cordell to Dell Seton hospital. I’m sure you want to get back to your family as soon as possible and get everyone over there. Let one of the guys here give you a head start by driving you to your truck.”

He acquiesces. “Yeah, yeah, okay. You coming?”

“I, ah.” Liam turns to Micki. “I’ll meet you there, if Micki doesn't mind giving me a ride. I need to call Larry James.” And this is true, but it’s equally true that he needs to drop the everything will be okay expression for just a bit.

~~~

By the time they all get to the hospital, Cordell is already in surgery. He's fine, the surgeon tells them afterward. He’s going to be fine. He had a couple of bullet wounds, a punctured lung, broken ribs, damage to his shoulder that shouldn't be permanent. Lost a lot of blood. But he’s going to be fine.

This time, anyway.

~~~

Only two visitors at a time are allowed into Cordell's room, so Stella and Augie go in first. Liam paces. Bonham retreats to the end of the hall to make a call. Abilene sits alone on the ugly burnt-orange vinyl bench. She's the toughest woman Liam knows, but right now she looks like a broken baby bird. She digs in her purse for a tissue, and Liam realizes tears are streaming down her cheeks. He sits next to her and puts an arm around her shoulder. “Mama, he's gonna be fine. There's no reason to cry.”

“Oh, Liam,” she sighs. Her voice is shaky. “I just don’t know why this family has to go through so much. After Emily, and you, and Cordi and Hoyt. I don’t like my babies being hurt. I can’t stand it.”

Liam resists the impulse to reach up and touch the scar where Stella cauterized his gunshot wound. “Well, maybe this is it. Maybe we’ve used up all our bad luck, and there’s nothing but good times ahead.”

Abilene laughs a shaky little laugh. “Maybe so. It would only be fair.” She wipes her eyes and puts on her own everything is okay face as Stella and Augie step out of the room.

Daddy must have been watching, because he ends his call quickly and takes Mama's hand to escort her into Cordell's room. Liam puts his arms up and the kids snuggle next to him, one under each arm, like they used to do when they were worried about their dad. When Liam was pretending not to be worried about him too.

"The guy who shot him is still out there," Stella says, and Liam suddenly realizes he doesn't know what they've been told, if they know an old family friend murdered their mother and then tried to kill their father. No one talked about Stan in the waiting room, and these kids are used to their father being a target. It's so fucking unfair. They shouldn't all have to spend their lives waiting for something horrible to happen.

"It's okay," he says. "I'm going to stay here tonight to keep guard. No one's going to hurt him."

~~~

Mama and Daddy take the kids home, and Liam finally opens the door to Cordell's room. It's dim - all the lights are off except a light over the sink - but he can see his brother well enough. The blood and dirt have been washed off, revealing cuts and bruises to his face. His chest and right arm are heavily bandaged, with a wound drain snaking out from his bandaged chest. An oxygen canula is taped under his nose.

"Hey, Stinker," Cordell says. "You all right?"

"Am I all right? Jesus, Cordi." Liam sits in the small side chair and angles it so he can see his brother's face. "How do you feel?"

Cordell tries to speak again, but falls into a coughing fit. Liam grabs the plastic water mug on the bedside table and holds the straw up to his lips. Cordell presses one hand against his chest incision and takes a small sip of water. "You talked to Larry James?" he says.

"I did. But I didn't know much. He said he'd send someone to talk to Mendoza, and he'll be up in the morning to get your statement. What the hell, Cordell? You said she was a witness?"

"Yeah. Stan was involved in some shit. Emily saw it." He closes his eyes and sighs. "I'd rather not talk about it right now. I'm kinda..."

"Yeah, no, sure. I'll hear it in the morning anyway. I'm going to stay here tonight."

"What do you mean, stay here? Go on home, man. You look like crap."

"Yeah, I don't think so. There's a man out there who wants to kill you. Think I'll hang around and make sure he doesn't."

"For fuck's sake, Liam. There's no reason to think he's going to come up here and finish me off."

Liam stands. His pulse pounds hot against his branded scar. "And yesterday there was no reason to think he was going to shoot you and bury you in a mass grave. But he did it, Cordell. And I'm not giving him the opportunity to do it again!"

"Liam -"

"No." Too loud, he's in a hospital and he's too damn loud. "Could you, just once in your life," he hisses, "stop trying to die?"

Cordell blinks in shock. "Okay," he says softly. "Okay. Stay here, if it makes you feel better."

"It does." Liam sits again, a little embarrassed, a lot relieved."You know, you can give up on that whole die young, stay pretty plan,” he says. “It's too late. You're old."

Something painful flickers across Cordell's face, and Liam immediately regrets whatever memory he unintentionally dredged up. Emily, Hoyt, their whole lives ahead of them. But then his brother smiles a faded ghost of a smile. "Maybe so," Cordell says. "But I'm still pretty."

Liam pats his ankle. "Yeah, I guess. For such an old guy."

(Maybe, just maybe, he’ll actually get old. Maybe Liam can make that happen.)

~~~

Please note that, though I’m posting this after s4, I actually wrote the vast majority of it during s1. In other words, I buried him first.

[mintytealfox]

MKAY! NORTON TIME!!

I watched "The Gold Rush" 1925 crazy Chaplin movie as soon as I pieced together that this was a CHAPLIN CHARACTER OUTFIT LOL

THIS FITS HIM SO GOSH DARN WELL YALL

PREPARE YOURSELVES LOL

Spoilers below if you wanna watch the movie still before reading~ This is gonna be a LONG one cause its so difficult to sum up quick and it still making some kind of sense PFF

but you can skip to the very bottom to see why this gets a CHECKMARK in my eyes LOL

So its starts out with "A Lone Prospector" who is trapsing through the harsh snowy mountain, he almost stumbles off the side of it a few times and a bear is following him and he doesn't notice it at all (how this character survived this long is beyond me -WHEEZE-)

There is another prospector named "Jim Mckay" who has struck gold! But a huge storm comes rolling in so both end up in the same cabin where a criminal (unknown to the prospectors) is living. They just forced themselves in there pretty much and the criminal was just 'meh whatever' after realizing Mckay can beat him in any fight pfff (like the levels of ridiculous events that take place is astronomical! -WHEEZE- the flying out the doors cause of the wind and forcing themselves back in oh my GOSH! Then Mckay and the criminal are fighting with the shot gun and it is ALWAYS pointed at Chaplin as he is trying to get out of the way of the barrel of the gun!! I was literally rolling with laughter at this part oh my GOSH)

Chap tryin to escape the barrel of the gun as the other two fight:

But Chaplin buddies up with Mckay for survival purposes

So the storm has been raging for days as the story continues and they are all starving. So they draw cards and whoever gets the lowest number has to go out into the storm to get food. The criminal ends up drawing the lowest card and off he goes to find food ( but since he doesn't care about the other two he doesn't return with the food he found from the supplies he got after killing some police that were looking for him) So the Criminal dips and even finds Mckay's gold stash and camps out there.

So the two prospectors back at the cabin are still hella hungry so Chapin boils up his shoe and serves that up for dinner. He gives himself the 'best part' cause its his shoe and he cooked it but the other prospector takes it and that leaves Chaplin with the sole, nails, and shoelace. He ends up enjoying the meal much to his own surprise pff. But the other prospector/Mckay is so hungry he starts hallucinating that Chaplin is a chicken and starts trying to kill him and that there cues a load of ridiculous events of Chaplin trying, and accidentally surviving again -WHEEZE- but the BEAR returns and they somehow have that as their first meal in who knows how long and then the storm finally ends and they part ways

Chicken Chap:

Mckay returns to his claim of gold only to find the criminal. They fight again only this time the Criminal whacks Mckay over the head with a shovel (causing him to loose his memories) and leaves with the stuff he got from the police and then ends up falling from the side of the mountain that crumbled apart. and the section was called (the north. a law unto itself)

ANYWAY

Chaplin ends up in a town as this lone stranger and meets this pretty lady. Georgia. She ends up using Chaplin as a way to get away and upset her pushy lover, the bully, by dancing with Chaplin. Cue more wild events as he is trying to keep his pants from falling and accidently ties a rope that was supposed to be a leash for a dog, around his waist to use as a belt. So now a dog is running around with him as he is trying to dance with this pretty lady. Just absolutely wild oh my gosh (old movies stress me out when there are animals involved cause of the poor treatment that could happen on these sets so its difficult for me to not be uneasy at those points aaahh) but anyways

The bully/pushy lover, begins messing with Chaplin after Chaplin tries to keep the bully from following Georgia cause she wanted to leave and be alone, this prompting a 'fight' where Chaplin can't see and accidently punches a post and somehow a clock falls on the bully and he thinks he knocked him out oh my GOSH.

image of the bully smashing the hat on Chap's head so he can't see:

Then the next morning he pretends he is freezing to death outside a warm cabin of a guy who is making beans for breakfast pff. So the guy with beans takes him in and Chaplin ends up being his helper. Dude is willing to brown nose for survival man

ANYWAY

Georgia and the ladies end up coming over after chucking a snowball into the side of his face, on accident. So they come in and sit a while and Georgia finds that Chap has a photo of her (that he found ripped on the ground) and the flower she gave him after the dance) she thinks its funny and they all laugh while he is out getting firewood.

Georgia offering her apologies:

And then they are messing with him after they see that he likes Georgia:

(like no one is kind to this man oh my gosh and yet he continues to just vibe and not let it bother him, but there is a moment later that he is noticeably sad and hurt ;; )

ANYWAY he invites them to dinner and is like "will you actually come??" and they are like "oh yesss suurreee"

So he gets extremely excited and destroys the cabin in his excitement pff so he goes out to make money so he can put together a good dinner and HE EVEN BUYS THEM GIFTS OH MY GOSH

AND THEY DON'T SHOW UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

He worked HARD shoveling snow for monies (he would clear out the snow in front of one business's door onto the front of the next business's door and would have them pay him to now clear out their blocked door PFF)

(^^^ he made that snow pile behind him in front of that restaurant -WHEEZE- to be fair the restaurant owner was rude to him just moments prior PFFFF)

Anyway, back on track. The ladies don't show up and he falls asleep and dreams of having a good time only to wake up at midnight and realize they never showed up orz so he looks out the door when he hears the town singing and he looks so saaaad orz

Georgia and the girls end up showing up after Chap leaves and once she sees the gifts she feels hella bad

Then for some dumb reason she writes an apology note to her pushy bully 'love' cause she slapped him for forcing her to kiss him uhg But the bully wants to mess with Chap so he has the note sent to Chap and then Chap is like "ALL IS FORGIVEN MY LOVE" cause she wrote "I love you" at the bottom of the note orz

She is friggin FLABBERGASTED -WHEEZEEE- vvvvvv

But this is when things start coming full circle cause MCKAY with MEMORY LOSS shows up and spots Chap and is like "YOU KNOW WHERE THE CABIN IS!! IF I CAN JUST FIND THE CABIN I CAN FIND MY HEAPS OF GOLD AND I WILL SHARE IT WITH YOU WE WILL BOTH BE MULTI-MILLIONAIRES" and drags him away from Georgia PFF

They end up making it back to the cabin and while they were sleeping "by Fate" the cabin flies away in the wind of the storm and ends up like this

So when they wake up they realize that the house is tilting whenever Chaplin comes over to right side and they quickly have to balance it out PFF So another series of ridiculousNESS takes place and they escape the cabin and find that it was the rope that was caught and keeping the house from falling immediately was ACTUALLY caught on where Mckay's HEAPS of GOLD is 🤣🤣

So they found the gold and are both multi-millionaires and Chap has everything he could ever want except for Georgia but he ends up finding out that she is on the same ship they are on and because of a ridiculous series of events the police are looking for a stowaway and mistake Chaplin as the stowaway cause he put on his old prospector outfit for the photoshoot they were doing for the news story pffff but she ends up trying to protect him and hide him, then once he is found by the police she offers to pay his ticket only for the news people to be like "YO He is a multi-millionaire! He isn't a stowaway!"

and then he invites Georgia to join him on the rich part of the ship and then they pose for a photo and kiss and now Chap has everything he ever wanted heh

So in love that she is willing to do all that for him lol vvvvv

------

SO THERE IS THE WHOLE STORY

and this gets a CHECKMARK, it has Norton written all over it PFF

-there is the mention of 'FATE' several times in the switching of scenes. -He is just this guy trying to make it through and is constantly bullied, but regardless, he keeps trying and works hard. -is, at his core, kind. (I mean heck, in the movie Chap even offers his other shoe when Mckay exclaims how hungry he still is pff) -Keeps going even though his life is misfortune after misfortune. -Is the odd ball in the crowd and is shocked when people 'want' to interact with him and they aren't hurting him in some way or he doesn't have to brown nose is some way. -Trying to get though a cruel world I just find it so interesting that they went with a character that follows fate and it leads him to everything he ever wanted ;; (I am still crossing everything I have that they will go the redemption arc way for Norton and let him finally have a good life under the blue sky aahh please)

//and now in reference to the Frederick Deduction skin, I am worried Composer will actually die in the fire at the end of the da capo game like he does as his Deduction counterpart ah orz just all those burns on his worn clothes skin aahhhh and I think he also has tears on that skin too, gosh I need to check again

ANYWAYS, For the skin itself I love that there is actual gold in his making cause it shows that he is 'made of gold' 'has a heart of gold' ;;

'Fool's Gold' is just how everyone else perceives him, a Fool, faking being a good guy to get gain orz Which is how he starts viewing himself and starts acting by the time AoM comes around ah orz

So in my opinion THEY POPPED OFF HERE TOO, I think this was a big brain move~ 👏👏👏👏👏👏 They could have gone a 'BADDIE' rotue but they went with the good guy route and touched on who Norton is and what he had to do to survive, now I just hope he gets what he needs and even wants in the end ;;

[echoesofwisdomcountup]

89 Days Until Echoes of Wisdom Release. Ok before it gets any closer I wanna share some thoughts and predictions for EOW.

We will get more than the tri rod. I know a number of people complained about Zelda not having a sword or weapon that allows her to directly fight. However, there are still empty spots on the D-Pad so I'm assuming we will get other tools. Probably something like a bow. I'm also guessing maybe a shovel.

Speaking of the D-pad, let Zelda go fishing.

Zelda may acquire spells along her journey. Not a whole lot but a few and I believe they'll be more protective in nature. Something like Nayru's love from OOT or a teleportation spell that will work as fast travel. I don't think that Zelda will get a physical shield so some form of magical shield would be helpful.

We will fight Link or some version of Link. I've seen several people thinking that Link may get possessed by Ganon or controlled by evil magic so Zelda will have to defeat him. Personally, I'm holding out for beating up Shadow/Dark Link and not Link himself.

Zelda will be able to make an echo of Link. I want this so badly. Whether she gets the ability after defeating dark link or a possessed Link or simply able to make an echo after saving him, she will be able to make a copy of Link. I'm predicting right here and now that she will go into the final fight with actual Link by her side and be able to make copies of him (or one copy) during that fight.

Is Ganon the final boss? I'm not sure. We see Ganon get hit by Link's sword in the trailer and then his staff opens up the portal. Will the antagonist actually be Ganon again or is there someone else involved? People have pointed out that Link has a purple outline in the poster as evidence that he may be possessed in the game but pig Ganon has the same purple outline. I wonder what is the truth behind the purple portals.

It's very interesting that the fairy Tri starts out with three triforce triangles and gains a fourth one later on in the trailer. The triangles determine how many echoes you can have at one time and certain echoes take more than one triangle to create. We only see four but is that the max or will they let us gain greater echo abilities as we progress. Maybe the triangles are rewards for completing certain dungeons. The four triangles and the purple portals are very much reminding me of A Link Between Worlds so that's fun.

Ok that it for now. I'd love to hear your thoughts and predictions too.

[lynx-doodles-indie-games]

minor and moderate worldless spoilers ahead! i really like this game so please play it so you can have the full context of my stupidity

this upload's gonna be a bit different, since i wanna talk about a Very Very Stupid Thing i did when i played worldless last month, and hopefully some of yall can enjoy me being the butt of the joke idk. minor spoilers are ahead, but i'll put the moderate spoilers under the cut below.

also because there isn't a better place to put this, the colors i used throughout these doodles are from sweetavery's zenith, it's an impeccable fit for this game!

so, picked up worldless last month and yet another game pestered me about playing on a controller as opposed to keyboard. "how dare!" i shouted at my computer, "for i have bested the pantheon of hallownest in hollow knight and make for a fine accomplice in rain world's jolly co-op with just a keyboard! i don't need a controller!"

well, to absolutely no one's surprise, the default keyboard layout SUCKS. but that's nothing a little rebinding can't fix. i messed around in the menus, experimented with what made the game feel mildly more comfortable to play, which worked for about twenty minutes.

so i haven't talked much about the story, yeah? well that's because this wrestling with the controls took up so much of my attention that i could barely clock in what was happening! so that when the above happened, well… you can see how well that went out.

i actually put the game down out of frustration because i was really excited for it and yet the controls were so obstinate. this was my first impression, and it… was not a great one, you can tell.

about a week later i was bored out of my mind and picked up the game again. i'd wondered if i should've started a new save or picked up where i left off. i wish i had done the former. because…

yeah, i'd gone off the intended path and ignored the objective because i'd literally forgotten what the game had told me it wanted me to do.

that's as much i'm willing to divulge to the people who want to play the game with as few spoilers as possible. moderate spoilers below.

rest assured, i'm getting a pair of controllers later this month. the transition is gonna be… rocky. i'd been meaning to get some for being able to play horizon zero dawn and hyper light drifter and other games of that caliber, but this experience with worldless urged that along faster. (i am not looking forward to relearning how to play hollow knight and rain world on a controller)

---

back to the game:

so yeah, even at this point, i had not connected the dots that the guy who beat me up was the same guy i was chasing across the map was the same guy i saw in that apparition was the same guy currently crouched in front of me. i get "early-game amnesia" every so often (ask me sometime about my experience with shovel knight this summer), but worldless has been the worst example of it happening to me, not helped by the awful controls distracting me in the opening, not playing it for a long enough time for my memory of the first twenty minutes to erode, and then returning to my old save file instead of starting up a new one.

i somehow blearghed my way into resolving the conflict peacefully, since i'd known the battles are a bit like puzzles and this one had given me the capability of using wisp's cry. so i did, thinking it was simply the resolution for the battle.

and this. this took me off-guard. but, obviously, not in the way the devs had expected. i didn't know who this guy was so suddenly playing as him was rather confusing.

which is a shame, really. i wish i'd restarted the game instead of picked up from my current save. i wish i could erase my memories of the game and replay it afresh (but with more optimal controls). i wish i'd gotten a controller before playing worldless.

but what's done is done. i wrestled the controls into something somewhat manageable. in the span of less than two weeks of active play, i'd beaten the game, found the secret boss, ascended the path of determination, and overcome the ultimate trial all on a keyboard.

dw tho, i eventually bonded with my beloved deuteragonist (dubbed him "coal" in contrast with the original deuteragonist "wisp"). i've drawn a ton of them in the past couple of weeks and i'm hoping to share em soon. gotta get the word about this game out somehow :D

idk how to end this lol

[offside-the-lines]

Nico/Mtkachuk + Fist ❤

AH YES! The Nico/Matty agenda that I am trying to get off the ground. I fucking love this pairing so much, and I dont have time to get into this here. But this is barely even a mini fic. This is like a blurb. I got carried away. ESPECIALLY with the game yesterday being so chippy. Edit: omg this is a brand new tag in AO3. Deeeeeeply exciting for me.

~

“Matty?”

“Yeah?”

“What the fuck is your brother’s problem?”

There is a beat of silence over the phone before he hears Matthew cackling on the other end of the line.

“Matthew,” Nico aims for exasperated, but misses by a mile. There’s something about Matthew’s laugh at always gets him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he manages to say between wheezes, “It's just— You should know by now that us Tkachuks only know how to communicate via fist."

"Come on, be serious Matty. I don't want him to hate me already," Nico sighs, his brows furrowed.

"He doesn't hate you, Nicy," Matthew offers, voice laced with gentle fondness, "He's just protective. Wants to test you or something. I can talk to him if you want. It won't change anything but—"

"No! No—" Nico is quick to interrupt. That would be fucking embarrassing. "I just wanna get this right, you know?"

"Nico," Matthew's voice softens, "that's— Remember when I tried to tell you I liked you by almost killing you on the ice, like twice?"

Nico chuckles, "Aaaand I was just starting to forget about that too."

"Shut up," he laughs, "My point is that we're just like that. I promise, if he actually had a problem, he would make it extremely extremely clear."

"Yeah, okay. You know, normal people just do a shovel talk right?"

"Oh, don't worry, that's still gonna happen. Although, Taryn's the one you need to watch out for. She's really lethal with the field hockey stick."

"Jesus, am I going to have to fist fight Brady for your hand in marriage," he mumbles to himself.

"Aww, babe," Matthew coos through the phone, "You wanna ma—"

"Oh my god," Nico groans.

"—but yeah, you should probably start training now," his voice bright.

Nico lays back in his bed and hums, letting the warmth of Matthew's voice nestle in his chest, tucked under his rib cage. He's only 80% sure he's joking; it might be worth it anyway.

After a beat of silence, Matthew speaks up again, "Wanna switch to Facetime? There's some other things I can do with my fist that I wanna show you."

Nico muffles a scream into his pillow to the sounds of Matthew's giggles. He accepts the Facetime request anyway.

~

Send me a player or pairing + a word, and I’ll write a mini fic about it. (I am running on quite a backlog right now so it might take me a while to get to your request).

Read other prompt mini fics!

[isopodonanescalator]

Tell me ur thoughts about isttvg!!!!!!! Have you watched it????

YES YES YES I HAVE WWTCHED IT!!! its so good also i wanna start out by saying that 1) this is going to be a long rant apologizing in advance and 2) it’s been a long time since i watched it so idk how well this will be

putting a cut so not everyone has to read this all cuz it’s a lot😭

OKAY SOOO

umm one of my favorite things i find so inch resting is how Owen repeatedly breaks the fourth wall and talks to the audience like he doesn't believe the tv show was anything more than a tv show...but he knows he's in a movie? idk it’s either a plot hole or maybe like a writing choice that i don’t get??? idk man

ALSO ALSO ALSO as a film nerd the use of colors to communicate how Owen feels is SOO AUDJAOSOKE the one i noticed the most was blue, like theres lots of Blue on the screen when he's at the fair with his mom, on the walls at his work, and i some other scenes too but i’m not sure which ones because. yeah

also this isn’t really anything but in the first act, Owen tells Maddie on the bench that hes afraid of opening his insides and i think it was pulling them out with a shovel(?) only to find nothing.. and then at the very end is him opening his insides and getting that beautiful vision and i guess like. self-actualization kinda ffeeling. you know like. like feeling like whatever you want to do with your life is nothing and being afraid that youre truly hollow and all along you were delusional about your dreams which is why you should never commit (this is just a thought i always have whenever i think about this movie. it’s not really anything but like idc)

also i think she says something like, "don’t apologize" and that stuck with me regarding the ending. he keeps saying sorry just over and over and over again to these people who don't even see him or they just ignore him. to me that was like while he did have a moment of clarity, he did what he had always been doing. the whole thing like if you don't think about it isn't real? if that makes sense? he took like. a figurative step back and apologized, even though he had nothing to apologize for that was really sad tome

when the movie ends he says something like “i’m dying” or whatever and i feel like that’s a metaphor of what happens when you suppress who yo are for so long? idk

OMG AND "i found my heart, oh my god Isabel i found yours too. it was still beating. stored in an industrial freezer." GOOSEBUMPS GOOSEBUMPS GOOSEBUMPS! NEVER FORGETTING THAT LINE EVERRR

anyway that’s all i can coherently get out rn, this movie is. it’s just such a violent wake up call to be yourself and i love it so so so muchhh >.<