#a history of some kind hinted at (from the way she first names him and the way he fucking hates her)

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // ELEVEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: Your evening with Lee is cut short by the arrival of a strange boy with hooked swords. Instead, you go to the fountain and reveal your greatest secret to the Blue Spirit.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.0k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: i hope you guys don’t think i’m insane for how often i’m updating

Something amazing had just happened to you, and there was no one you wanted to tell more than Kuei. Your brother, who you loved more than anything. You could envision his pride already, the way his face would glow when he saw it, the way he’d pick you up and spin you around and tell you how happy he was.

It was as you ran down the carpeted hallway towards his chambers that you heard hushed voices coming from the room where your brother’s council of advisors met. He was still young, of course, a child as you were, and so the daily goings-on of the kingdom were managed by these advisors, who were all specialists in their field and had advised your father before Kuei.

Always more interested than your brother in this type of affair, you rested your back against the wall by the door, holding your breath so that you did not alert the men to your presence. They were speaking quietly, but they had left the door ajar by mistake, and so it was not very difficult for you to listen in.

“That boy is no king,” the first said. “Do you think his father would let Long Feng walk over him like that?”

“He is still a child,” the second said. “We cannot expect much from him.”

“Even as a child, he has no interest in learning statecraft, nor the history of his kingdom. He’s far too busy playing with his sister and drawing pictures of bears in his lesson book to absorb anything of use. I fear his reign will lead to the end of the kingdom as we know it,” the first argued. At this, the second sighed.

“You’re right about that much, to be sure. He does not have the power to back up the few proclamations he makes. What kind of general obeys a king like that?” the second said.

You swallowed, for these were words you knew to be treasonous. They were speaking ill of your brother, of the King Kuei, and they ought to lose their stations for it. There was nothing you could do, though; even if Kuei would believe you, who else would? Who would discharge two premier advisors on the words of a little girl?

“If only he were born an Earthbender,” the first said. “Then he could be trained. Then there would be a way that he could eventually gain the respect of the rest of the council.”

“There hasn’t been an Earth King who could Earthbend in many decades now,” the second said. “At this point, I’d even take a queen, if she could just do that much.”

“What do you mean by that?” the first said. The second huffed.

“You know. That sister of his,” he said. “If she shows some promise…if she can lift even a pebble…then we will do what we must in order for the kingdom to have a strong ruler.”

“You’d kill the king in favor of a queen?” the first said.

“If she can Earthbend, then I’ll kill anyone for her to rule,” the second said bluntly. “It’s about time that the world was reminded of why Shan’s line is so feared.”

“You are more daring than I thought, old friend!” the first said. “Let’s vow to keep an eye on the young princess. The moment she gives us a hint that she can Earthbend, we will strike.”

“And if she doesn’t?” the second said.

“Then we’ve lost nothing but a few spare moments spent caring for our dear king’s heir,” the first said. “It’ll only make us look better in the eyes of the royals. We really cannot lose in this scenario.”

“You’re right,” the second said. 

You didn’t stay to hear the rest of it. Staring at your palms in horror, those very palms which might lead to your brother’s death, you ran back to your room as fast as you could, pressing your hands over your ears as you chanted the same thing to yourself under your breath, over and over like it was a mantra.

“I am not an Earthbender. I am not an Earthbender. I am not an Earthbender.”

“You know, I had a lot of fun with you,” you said, pulling on the end of Lee’s sleeve to get his attention. “Lee, I really am being serious. I enjoyed it.”

The two of you had spent the rest of the afternoon doing random things around Ba Sing Se. You had bought lunch for you both, and Lee had argued with the vendor until he agreed to give you the food for half-price, after which you had sat by the fountain and eaten together. It was surprisingly nice, even though neither of you had spoken much. Oddly, you didn’t mind silence with him. It was alright. It was nice, even.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lee said. “I guess you could say I had fun, too.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to admit that you like spending time with me,” you said.

“It might,” he said.

“Oh, save it. At the minimum, won’t you say that it was better than working the afternoon shift?” you said.

“That much is true,” he allowed. “But it’s back to work for me now. It’s just about time for the evening round to start.”

“For shame,” you said. “Let this not be the last time we do something like this together.”

“Okay,” he said gamely. You were actually taken aback, not expecting him to agree so readily. Lee was one of those particularly contrary people, the type to refuse on principle, even if he harbored no real misgivings, so for him to just say yes was out of character. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Did you like your lunch that much?” you said.

“Huh?” he said.

“It’s just that I wasn’t expecting you to acquiesce so quickly. Normally, you would’ve pretended to deliberate over it for at least a minute or two,” you said.

“You told me a good story,” he said. “Do you blame me for wanting to hear more?”

“Ah, so I’m your new theology lecturer,” you said. “You should’ve said so from the start.”

“Not exactly,” he said, staring at his feet as he walked. “You’re something else.”

“Something else! And may I be privy to what that might be?” you said.

“No,” he said. “It’s for me to know, not you!”

By his tone alone, you could understand what that something else could represent, but you did not force him to explain further. He always gave you these considerations, never made you talk more than you offered, never demanded you elaborate, so you did the same for him, only humming a song your brother used to sing to you as you entered the tea house.

“This is where we must part, then,” you said when you and he reached the counter. Lee pulled his apron down from its hook and tied it back on miserably, already dimming, though you had not noticed until it was vanished that he had been close to happiness the entire time the two of you had been together.

“Lee, Y/N! You’re back!” Mushi said as he exited the kitchen. “How was it?”

You arched a brow at Lee, jerking your head towards Mushi, indicating that he had to respond in his own words. It was not just because it was polite; you wanted to hear it, too. What would he tell his uncle about the outing? What had he thought of it?

He finished tying the apron behind his back in a neat bow and rolled his sleeves up again, revealing his sinewy forearms. It was something you had always taken note of: he was far more well-built than you would’ve expected of an ordinary citizen. It was closer to the lithe musculature of the higher-ranked soldiers, but you had never come up with a satisfactory explanation for why he was like that.

“We had a good time,” he said shortly. “Am I serving or washing this time?”

“That is great to hear,” Mushi said. “I told you you would! And I think they want you serving tonight.”

He said something under his breath that you could not quite catch, but then he nodded, ducking beneath the counter to produce a tray. And though it meant that you would be late to the lighting of the fountain lamps, where you might meet the Blue Spirit, you found yourself lingering, trying to squeeze out every bit of time you could spend with Lee until you had to go for good.

You weren’t sure why you wanted to. It was a realization you were on the brink of arriving at, but you hadn’t quite reached yet. It just remained that that was how it was, that you preferred arguing with him to speaking fondly with anyone else, that you’d rather sit in silence with him than have an avid discussion with another person.

“Hey,” Lee said, pausing before you with the empty tray in his hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“What a turn of events,” you said. “The very boy who tried to ban me from the shop is now inviting me back.”

“And the very girl who was once illiterate is now telling stories of her own,” he said with a wry half-grin. “Things change.”

The door slammed open, almost bursting off of its hinges, and you all but leapt out of your skin as a boy brandished a pair of hooked swords at you and Lee, a piece of grass sticking out of his mouth, incongruous with the rest of his regalia.

“That’s enough!” he shouted. “I’ve had enough of all of you! Since no one believes me, I’ll prove it myself!”

“What are you talking about?” one of the low-level militia members who frequented the shop said. “You have about ten seconds to drop those swords, boy.”

“That boy and the old man are Firebenders!” the boy shouted. “Judging by the girl’s closeness to them, she’s in on it, too! I bet she’s a Firebender as well!”

You thought it was ironic that he was accusing his own kingdom’s princess of being from another nation, but considering no one knew who you were, you could not share the humor you derived from the ridiculous declaration. Glancing at Lee, you saw that his mouth had set into a firm line.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! You must be confused,” Mushi said.

“I saw you warming tea!” the boy said. Almost collectively, everyone in the shop rolled their eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, speaking for the entire crowd when you did so. “He’s a tea-maker. They do tend to do that.”

“That’s not the point! How about this?” he said, jabbing his swords at the poor, defenseless Mushi, who backed away in concern. “I’ll just make you Firebend! If you do it in front of everyone, then there’s no way it can be denied any longer!”

As the boy rushed towards you, Mushi, and Lee, the militia man stood in your defense. Before he could do anything, though, Lee was taking the swords of the man’s back and pointing them at the boy.

“If it’s a show you want, then it’s a show you’ll get,” he said. You gasped as the two of them began to battle. Mushi took you by the arm, pulling you out of the way as Lee and the boy leapt atop the tables, slashing at one another with blows that were not meant to solely maim.

“What is happening?” you said as the clash made its way outside. “Since when can Lee use broadswords?”

“He’s a boy of many talents!” Mushi said as you followed the crowd outside. You hid behind him, peeping over his shoulder and clutching the back of his shirt when Lee sacrificed one of his swords so that the other boy would lose one of his.

“Will he be alright?” you said. You couldn’t understand the extent of your nerves, only that you were nervous. You didn’t want Lee to die, of course, but that was a natural reaction which any person might have. What was strange was that every time the boy’s hook whistled near Lee’s face, every time its wicked tip nearly caught on Lee’s arm, your heart leapt into your throat.

“He’s skilled, but this poor boy is confused. Someone, please help him!” Mushi said. “Oh, thank goodness.”

You weren’t sure why he was so relieved, but then you saw those familiar uniforms and squeaked before crouching behind Mushi. It was two Dai Li agents, come to take the other boy away — two Dai Li agents who, if they had turned their heads even a moment earlier, would’ve seen you and known that you had escaped the palace right under Long Feng’s nose.

“Are they gone?” you said as the crowd began to disperse. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, it’s all clear,” Mushi said. You looked around his legs, but he seemed to be telling the truth, so, straightening, you brushed yourself off.

“Thank Quynh,” you said with a shudder. “That was so frightening. Lee, are you fine?”

“It was nothing,” Lee said, wiping the sweat from his brow as he handed the militia man his swords back. His expression was still dark as he took off his apron and tossed it at his uncle. “I’m taking the rest of the day off, uncle.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you said, reaching out and placing your hand on his shoulder to stop him before he could stalk back into the tea shop. He whirled around, and you preemptively cringed back, already feeling sorry for asking, but it was too late.

“I said I’m fine!” he said. Upon noticing how you had already shrank away, though, his eyes widened. “Just…it’s fine. You should go, Y/N.”

“Right,” you said. “I’ll, um, see you around.”

He nodded, and then, before Mushi could convince you otherwise, before anyone could tell you to stop, you were running towards the fountain, the only place where you might find some solace, even if said solace had not come in so long.

Finding that familiar bench, you collapsed atop it, the stress of everything compounding until you were close to tears. What if Lee had really been injured? What if the Dai Li had not come in time and the boy had bested him? What if he ended up in the same state as some of the people you had seen in the Lower Ring? If he lost his arm or his leg, if another scar was sliced into his face, then what?

You had not been crying for very long when there were those same footsteps in front of you, the soft, light ones that you had all but memorized from how frequently you imagined them. Though you did not take your hands away from your face, you opened your fingers, peering through watery eyes at the figure squatting before you.

He tapped your wrists, and you let him pull your hands down, even though you were more than a little embarrassed to be found in such a state by the Blue Spirit, who always seemed so collected. Using your neckline to blot away your tears, you ignored your rational mind’s warning and threw your arms around his shoulders, resting your face against the crook of his neck.

“Things are so terrible, Blue Spirit,” you said, holding onto him as if he were an anchor. He was hesitant in reciprocating, but eventually, his own arms settled around your waist, keeping you in place if not pulling you closer. “My — my friend, have I told you about him? My friend, his name is Lee…I’d never say it to his face, but he’s someone I really admire. He’s so certain of himself and his opinions, and he’s not like Kuei or the servants at all — he’s really very witty, he can actually keep up with me and argue his own points when we speak instead of constantly bowing to my whims or dismissing them in turn! He’s my friend, my only friend, except you, but today he was attacked. Attacked! In my own city, he was attacked!”

The Blue Spirit patted you on the back. It was a little too rough to really be considered comforting, but you understand the intention and found that the effect was not lessened despite his ineptitude.

“I was so worried he might’ve been hurt,” you said. “What would have I done then? Who would I have if not him? You might not believe it, or maybe you might find it depressing, but I’ve really grown attached to him in the short time we’ve known one another. Besides you, he’s the only person who’s treated me normally, without reverence. I’m not her royal highness the princess when I’m with him. I’m just the frustrating Y/N who likes books and distracts him from his work.”

The Blue Spirit pulled away and shook his head at you. You laughed, though it was a thin, brittle sound.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you said. “It’s a wonder he gets anything done at all when I’m there. A testament to his character, maybe. Anyways, I think I’ve upset him.”

The Blue Spirit shook his head once more, but you could only stroke the cheek of his cool mask.

“Thank you for that, but I really have. It’s alright; I will apologize to him tomorrow. I was in the wrong for bothering him when he had been in such peril only seconds previously,” you said. “I’m sorry to you, as well, for burdening you with my troubles. It’s only that I hadn’t realized the truth of Ba Sing Se until now. I was told that the city was more dangerous than I expected before I came here, but until I experienced it myself, I didn’t quite appreciate what it entailed.”

The Blue Spirit nodded, using his gloved hand to swipe away the tear tracks which had dried on your face. You caught his hand and squeezed it.

“I want to show you something,” you said. “It’s a secret that I haven’t told anyone else in all my years of living, but since you’ve saved me twice already, I think that it’s alright if you know.”

He cocked his head as you trotted over to the fountain, fishing around in the water, pulling out one of the little glass lanterns that floated along the surface in the night, when the turtleducks had gone away to wherever they slept. Blowing out the candle, you smashed it against the ground, careful not to cut yourself on the twinkling shards.

“You see, the reason why I’ve been kept in the palace is because I’m a nonbender like my brother, like my father, like most of my family, in fact. It’s because I’m defenseless — or at least, because I’m thought to be,” you said. “But it’s not entirely like that. Er, the second thing is true, sadly. I am defenseless, or nearly so, but as for the rest of it…”

Gathering the pieces of glass in your palm, you concentrated on them, or, specifically, the tiny particles of earth which they were made of. It was not a feat of strength but of precision, and though you held no claim to the former, the latter was something you could proudly call yours.

Shielded by the Blue Spirit’s body on one side and the fountain on the other, the jagged edges of the glass smoothed and curled on your palm, melding together until they formed the shape you wanted them to: a sparkling lily, which you presented to the man.

“That’s the extent of it, I’m afraid,” you said as he held it up to the firelight. “Glass flowers and other such sculptures. I’m not particularly strong, you see, or if I am, then I’ve never been able to cultivate that strength. Bending exercises, repeated forms…I could not practice things like that for fear of what would become of Kuei if I did.”

He was obviously confused; you did not blame him. It was a confusing statement without the context behind it, so, staring at the rushing waters of the fountain, you began to explain.

“I was fairly young when I discovered that I could Earthbend,” you said. “I ran to tell my brother, but on the way there, I overheard a pair of his advisors saying that if I turned out to be an Earthbender, they’d kill my brother so I could take the throne. That was something I could not allow — he is my brother, you know. My only family. I could not let him die, too, so I swore off bending forever.

“I was not entirely successful. Bending is something that those of us who have it must perform frequently in order to be fulfilled, so my compromise was making things like that flower. Little artworks, which were innocuous enough that no one was ever suspicious as to their true origin. I didn’t have a traditional teacher, but Quynh — yes, the bear spirit, the patron of the Earth Kingdom, the great mother, that Quynh. I’m the princess, aren’t I? It only makes sense that she guided me. Anyways, she taught me that, if I could not train my power, then I had to refine my senses, so that I was sufficiently challenged without making my prowess obvious.

“At first, I only bent crystals, which are harder than pure earth but easier than glass to work with. Eventually, though, I grew bored of making small pieces of jewelry for Quynh, no matter how lovely she looked draped in diamonds and rubies. After that, I graduated to glass, and that’s what I do when I’m bored of reading and studying — I practice.

“I suppose you could call me the world’s only Glassbender,” you finished. “Not the first, but the only remaining, as Quynh was the only remaining bear. It’s not a very practical element, but it’s not like I’ll ever need to use it for anything but aesthetics, so for my own purposes, it’s suitable.”

The Blue Spirit admired the glass lily, and you laughed as he turned it over in his hands — a real laugh this time, not a despairing one. He was like a child, filled with such delight at the simple toy you had fashioned. For a while, he played with it, tracing each edge and crevice with his slender fingers, caressing each individual petal, and then finally, reluctantly, he offered it back to you.

“No, it’s a gift,” you said. “You can keep it. It’s not difficult for me to make more, and no matter how pretty it is, it’s really only glass. It’s not in rare supply by any means.”

He did not think twice, carefully tucking the flower away in the folds of his clothing. You smiled at him before raising your finger to your lips.

“It’s a secret, remember? No one can know I’m an Earthbender. No one can realize the truth, lest they depose Kuei and install me in his place,” you said.

The Blue Spirit offered you his hand, and for a moment you stared at it unsurely. It was a strange form of agreement, but then you understood — it was not his hand he was offering but his pinky finger. You interlocked your own with it, so that the deal was made, the secret sworn, and then you let go.

“Imagine how the civilians would laugh,” you said, sitting on the marble edge of the fountain and dipping your fingers in the water. “If they knew the truth. That name they call me is more apt than they realize, isn’t it? The Glass Princess. I really am one.”

He sat beside you, though he did not dip his own hand into the water. He only observed you, and though it might’ve been intense, uncomfortable, awkward, were it anyone else, it felt reasonable with him. Like that was what he was meant to be doing.

“Can I see your hand?” you said. He gave it to you readily, and you cradled it in yours, arranging it so that the palm was facing upwards, before pausing. “Is it alright if I take the glove off?”

You waited. For a moment, the night was utterly still as he thought about the request, and in that time, you came to notice things about the world which you had thus far been blind to.

The precise shade of his mask, which was a deep blue like sapphire-paint. It was something that you could never erase from your mind, the visage of your savior, the color which had stood between you and your death — but it was also the color that had unmasked the truth of your city to you. If it were not for the Blue Spirit, wouldn’t you still live in that same ignorance? You could not yet say you understood anything, but now you knew that there was something there which needed to be understood in the first place. Before, you were not even aware of that much.

The exact scent clinging to him, which was the delicate fragrance of the honey that some used as sweetener in place of sugar. It was not overwhelming nor heady; it was a soft, warm aroma, as gentle and inviting as candlelight.

The shushing rhythm of the fountain in the background, which was melodic in its sameness. It was another one of those sounds, the type that easily faded away when it was not on your mind but which was omnipotent when you paid attention. The steady flow of the water lulled you into another state — not sleep, because you could not sleep when you were so close to the Blue Spirit, but the opposite, a heightened awareness of both yourself and of him.

That was why time passed both agonizingly slowly and yet dizzyingly quickly, up until the moment that he nodded in agreement and whatever trance you had been in was broken.

Anticipation rushed through you as you took your free hand, the one not supporting his, and tugged on the end of the glove. It came off with a swift motion, and for the first time, there was the sensation of your skin touching his own.

“They say you can tell someone’s future by these marks,” you said, dancing your fingers along the creases of his palm. “It’s an ancient art. Very esoteric. I never learned much about it, but now, I wish I had.”

You wished you could read his future, untangle those winding ways into something comprehensible. The roadmap of the Blue Spirit’s life. You wished you could read it, could know if that destiny was one that included you in its course, but you did not say anything along those lines. You didn’t know what that desire meant yourself, and you didn’t want to frighten him, either, in case it sounded like something it was not.

Though his hands were surprisingly soft, there were calluses formed in the places where he gripped his swords. They were incredibly warm, too, though it was in a pacifying way, not with the sickly sense of fever. They were the hands of a warrior, but also the hands of vanity, and it relieved you to see that even the perfect, infallible Blue Spirit was prone to this fault.

“If only I were more like you,” you said. “Ba Sing Se is in such a state of disrepair, and I can do nothing but offer coins to those I come across, in the hopes that I might alleviate their personal struggles. That’s not hardly enough, though. For every one person I can help, tens of others do not get the same chance. Tens of others continue to suffer from a problem that I cannot identify. What princess does not even know why her subjects are in such pain? What princess can do so little about it?”

The love for your kingdom or the love for your brother? If you were the queen, would things be any different? Would Ba Sing Se be in a better position, or would it all be the same? Well, it was a moot point now. You were not an Earthbender in any way that mattered. The advisors had longed to instate you so that you could remind the world of the power of Shan’s line, but as it was, you would only make a mockery of your famed ancestor. The man who had established the entire Earth Kingdom, left with a great-to-the-nth-degree granddaughter who could only bend glass. That was his lineage. That was his legacy.

“My forefathers must be so ashamed of me,” you said. “What have I ever done with my life? What is there that I can still do? I am the Glass Princess, and that’s all I will be remembered as. King Kuei’s sister who would’ve watched Ba Sing Se fall if it meant she could keep her pretty jewels and fancy dresses.”

Taking another lantern, removing its candle, you twisted the glass into a miniature replica of the Earth Palace. It was meticulous and perfect; such was the training Quynh had given you, after all. Form over function. Accuracy over mass. Mental fortitude over physical fortification.

“That’s where I am,” you said, tapping the minuscule window. “All of the time, unless I am with you or in the tea shop. That’s the extent of my world.”

Two finger lengths long. That was your existence in summary. You put the Blue Spirit’s glove back on and gave him the model of the palace.

“In case you ever visit,” you said. “So you don’t get lost. Come see me if you do, won’t you?”

He didn’t offer you his pinky this time, but you figured that when he nodded his head in acceptance, he still meant it as a promise.

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @lovialy @heart4hees @stefnarda @ioonatv

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

[zhukzucraft]

Wild Life - Chapter 2

A fan-made Life SMP session project by Zhuk and Schmomo

>Chapter 1< or >Read it on Ao3<

“So you’re breaking up with us,” Martyn said, matter of factly.

“Is this supposed to be shocking?” Cleo asked, “You leaving to go be with Etho, instead?” She laughed a little, cycling through her inventory for her iron pick. 

“It’s nothing personal!” Bdubs insisted, quickly, “I just feel bad for the guy, you know?”

“He is washed up,” Grian agreed, his voice carrying from up high where he was building up their tower of cobble. 

“Exactly. Wait, no! No, he’s not!” Bdubs huffed, “But it was harsh how we all ditched him.”

Yesterday had been a mad dash for resources, like all first days in the Life games tended to be. Bdubs’ plan for starting the Life game challenge had remained the same as always: stick to Etho. But that hadn’t really played out the way he wanted it to. When he’d circled up with his group near the exposed iron vein on the side of the mountain, everyone had realized at the same time an important fact: He, Impulse, Cleo and Skizz were all dogs. 

Etho was not. 

“He’s a cat, Bdubs,” Martyn said, his tail swishing about in warning behind him, “A filthy feline, if you will.”

“Shouldn’t we be building bridges?” Bdubs tried, his own short tail quite flat against his body.

“No, we’re building a tower,” Grian called from above. 

Cleo snorted, trying to cover her smile with her free hand. 

“The man is lost without me,” Bdubs continued, “And I really just want to check on him, is all. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all,” Cleo said with a smile, “But go on then, find your cat boyfriend if it’ll calm your anxious heart.”

Bdubs rolled his eyes, turning away and padding to the edge of their platform. After the iron had run dry, Skizz and Impulse had ventured further up the mountains. Bdubs knew his history with fall damage well enough to stick to more solid ground. Cleo had decided to join up with Martyn and Grian who were discussing some grandiose plan to take control of the entire lake. He had followed them without a second thought. 

Now, he stared out at the vast expanse of water before him, “You know, we really should build a bridge–”

“No bridges!” Grian shouted, “That’s the whole point!”

Bdubs threw his hands up in the air, defeated with his teammates–former teammates? It was unclear at this point. Bdubs was about 65% certain he would come back to them. Maybe less so now that this base Grian and Martyn were insisting on would prevent him from any kind of sustainable horse travel. 

He pinched his nose and jumped into the water, shuddering as the cold temperature hit him. He pushed through, diving down past the many salmon and cod to head to shore. By the end he was doggy paddling, which was fitting he supposed. When he reached the shore line he shook himself out, his ears floppy atop his head and smacking him ever so lightly. 

His comms buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. 

Solidarity has made the advancement [Diamonds!] Smallishbeans > ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Smallishbeans > HE’S THE FIRST ONE?????? Smajor1995 > just wait for the swimming in lava message to appear soon enough Skizzleman > i don’t have anything to contribute but as another S name i felt the need to say something GoodTimeWithScar > same! Grian > Your username starts with G, scar GoodTimeWithScar > are we starting our own train now, G? Solidarity > DOES ANYONE HAVE FOOD THEY CAN THROW DOWN MY HOLE?

“Poor fella,” Bdubs sighed out without even a hint of pity. He put his communicator away. He glanced around, seeing the remnants of other players from the falling leaves and missing dark oak trunks. He decided to keep to the edge of the forest, just in case. After a few hundred blocks, the dark oak gave way to a plains biome and–

“HORSE!” Bdubs shouted, sprinting over to the magnificent herd of beasts. There were six of them, all deep browns and blacks. Some were even spotted with white. “What beauties,” he praised as he petted one of the wild mares, who shook her mane out at him. He hauled himself onto her back, only to be bucked off. He was no stranger to the process, however, and kept at it, taming the entire herd by the time the sun was shining directly above him. 

“Now I just need a saddle,” Bdubs said aloud, before frowning. Right. He needed a saddle. What were the odds he’d stumble upon a dungeon anytime soon? He wondered if they were using the leather recipe in this game. That would be oh-so-fortuitous. 

He hadn’t been paying attention, and the horse he was seated upon had wandered further into the plains, toward the great big snowy mountain they’d all pillaged for iron yesterday. He wondered if Skizz and Impulse were still up there. Why were all his friends moving into such horse-hostile environments? Bunch of scum, the lot of em. 

The land opened up in front of him and he let out a surprised shout of terror. He quickly jumped off the horse, only to land precariously at the edge of the gaping ravine. 

That was a close one, Bdubs thought to himself, imagine being the first to die. And to fall damage too. 

He scurried backwards, giving himself a few blocks of distance. Sheepishly he looked around to see if anyone had seen him shrieking. Luckily, no one was around. 

Where the heck was everyone? Had no one decided to settle in these plains? He frowned, turning all the way around before getting himself dizzy. How was he supposed to find Etho with everyone hiding? Everyone was still green for void’s sake! There was no need to be so un-neighborly yet. 

“Cowards! All of ya!” he shouted out to no one in particular, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his important message carried. 

“Is someone out there!?”

Bdubs startled, looking around for the owner of the voice. 

“Hello!?” 

He narrowed his eyes, following the voice several blocks to the right. He stopped right before the ground gave way to another hole. 

“OH THANK THE VOID!”

All the way down below, surrounded by dripstone, was Jimmy. In full diamond armor. 

“BDUBS YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Jimmy shouted, “I'VE GOT HALF A HEART AND NOTHING TO MY NAME!”

“I don’t know about that,” Bdubs called back, sitting down on the edge of the hole, “You’re covered in diamonds.”

“I’ve got no wood, no tools and no food,” Jimmy lamented, “Please, do you have any food to spare?”

“How’d you manage this?” Bdubs asked, his ears perking up.

“There was some mild panicking when I dug into lava,” Jimmy said, “Very mild. I may have thrown half my inventory into it. These are minor details. Anyway, can you spare a mutton? I’d take it raw at this point.”

Bdubs cringed, “You’re lucky Scott didn’t hear that. He’d never let you live it down.”

“Scott’s dead to me!” Jimmy shouted back, “He and Joel and Etho found me just to laugh! The nerve!”

“Etho?” Bdubs blinked, honing in on his mission with laser focus, “You know where he went?”

“You get me outta this jam, I’ll take you straight to him, I swear on my half of a heart.”

“And one of your diamond pieces,” Bdubs added, standing back up. 

“You’d take the shirt off my back in my most trying time?”

“If it’s made of diamonds? Of course!” Bdubs replied, rummaging through his inventory, “After all, my hand might slip and grab my lava bucket instead.”

“ALRIGHT!” Jimmy shouted, “Just please! I can’t live down being yellow first again.”

Bdubs chuckled, taking mercy and flooding the hole. Jimmy quickly swam up, clawing his way onto solid ground and giving himself a firm shake to dry himself off. His long fluffy golden tail rained water droplets everywhere.

“Ah, a fellow dog of culture, I see,” Bdubs noted.

Jimmy cracked a smile, “Once a big dog, always a big dog. Woof, woof.” He picked himself up, taking off his diamond boots and handing them over. “Now please, some meat would be nice.”

“Oh I don't have any food on me,” Bdubs replied casually, slipping the armor on. “Should have probably grabbed some before leaving my crew, now that I think about it.”

Jimmy let out an anguished cry, hands shooting out to take hold of Bdubs shoulders. He dug into the iron armor there, “Are you KIDDING ME?” he shouted, close to tears, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!? Wave after wave after wave of creepers and zombies hounded me down there. Half a heart, Bdubs! I could trip and it’d be the end of me.”

“I’ve got a bed if you want to set your spawn here,” Bdubs offered with a bright cheery smile. Jimmy screamed out in aggravation. Bdubs patted his shoulder.

“Oh, that explains it.”

Jimmy and Bdubs turned at the sound of a third voice, and emerging from one of the rolling hills of this biome was Mumbo Jumbo of all people. 

“Mumbo!” Bdubs exclaimed, giving a friendly wave. “And on top of a mound!”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes! Once a mounder, always a mounder,” Mumbo replied with a grin, carefully hopping down the blocks to make it to their sides. His skin black and white tail shot out for balance. “Although, I’ve graduated to new heights this go-around. You could say I’m a mountaineer, now.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Bdubs complimented, “Are Skizz and Impulse with ya then?”

“Oh yes!” Mumbo assured, “BigB too.”

“Lovely catching up,” Jimmy interrupted, eye twitching, “But we have pressing matters at hand! Mumbo, do you have any food on you, bud?

“Hmm? Oh. Oh right, food. That would have been a good idea, wouldn’t it have been.” Mumbo realized aloud, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“YOU PEOPLE ARE IMPOSSIBLE!” Jimmy screamed.

Bdubs laughed, patting Jimmy’s shoulder and spreading his other arm out over the horizon, “Look, we’re in a plains biome, I’m sure we can find ya something to munch on.”

“All the animals are gone already!” Jimmy snapped, “This is the life series not Hermitcraft!”

“There’s plenty of horses,” Mumbo pointed out, unhelpfully. 

“I CAN’T EAT A HORSE.”

“Not hungry enough, eh?” Mumbo replied. 

Jimmy paused mid scream to laugh, “Alright, that’s a good one.” He then returned to screaming, “I’ve got two ticks left in my hunger bar before I starve to death. And that’s gonna be on both your consciences now, I hope you know.”

“I’m sure I can convince Etho to part with some snacks when I find him,” Bdubs assured.

“Isn’t Etho a cat, though? At least, that’s what Impulse told me,” Mumbo said, “Why are you looking for him?”

“Because I’m me, Mumbo, that’s why,” Bdubs snapped. 

“Right,” Mumbo said, “Should have expected that. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me I need to collect some redstone down in that ravine. No reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Bdubs played along. He waved as Mumbo pushed past them, black and white spotted tail wagging behind him. He turned back to Jimmy, “Now which way did Etho go?”

Jimmy sighed,  “He went further up, toward Scar’s place, I think. Have you been there yet? Last I saw him he was making some sort of shanty on the lake edge.”

“And that’s where we shall go,” Bdubs announced. 

“I can’t sprint,” Jimmy said, looping an arm around Bdubs’ as a preventative measure. “Don’t you dare leave me behind.”

Bdubs laughed, but acquiesced. Slowing his pace down as they walked through the peaceful meadows. It was strange to see so few mobs and people. Eerie, really. But eventually from the fog appeared a new structure at the lake's edge. A fishing hut made of oak and spruce, already with a nice pier jutting into the water. 

Scar came into view first, arms waving about as he spoke to three other players. Even before he rendered, Bdubs could tell the tallest silhouette to be Etho, most likely standing beside Joel and Scott based on Jimmy’s previous recollection.

“ETHO!” Bdubs shouted, abandoning Jimmy completely to sprint over to him. 

Etho’s head shot up, and there was a soft crinkle around his eyes as they lit up in recognition. “Oh snappers, it’s a Bdubs!” he exclaimed, lifting  his hand to wave at him. 

“Why, hello there, Bdubs,” Scar intercepted, coming in between them before Bdubs could go in for the hug, “Welcome to my dock.”

“Right,” Bdubs nodded. “It’s a nice dock.”

“Thanks, I made it myself. Took all my wood,” Scar continued proudly, his gray and black tail swishing dangerously behind him.

“That’s not even true,” another voice snapped, and Bdubs quickly saw Lizzie coming into view. She was munching on a fish, her small ears folded close to her head, “I made the dock. You only made the shanty.”

“Details,” Scar waved off with his ever present smile. 

“Food!” Bdubs shouted, pointing at the half eaten cod in Lizzie’s hand, “Jimmy needs some! Lizzie can you spare a fish  for the starving man behind me?”

“Oh, Bdubs,” Joel groaned, his striped tail drooping in disappointment, “You actually helped him?”

“He was supposed to stay in the hole.” Scott clicked his tongue, shaking his head. 

“Dogs, amiright?” Joel offered cheekily. Bdubs couldn’t help but let out a petulant little huff at that. 

By that point Jimmy had finally staggered over to them, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees. “One tick! One tick left and I die before your callous eyes!”

“I’ve got food, Jimmy,” Lizzie assured, digging through her inventory, “But you’ll have to swear your undying loyalty to me first.”

“FINE!” Jimmy agreed. 

“See, this is how you get into so much trouble, Jimmy,” Scott commented, “You agree too quickly to things.”

“The man’s on death’s door, Scott. You can’t blame him,” Scar defended, even as he took out his own cooked cod to eat in front of him.

“To seal the deal I shall give you this!” Lizzie announced, handing over a bone. 

“Am I joke to you?” Jimmy growled, holding the bone, “You expect me to eat this? Just because I’m a dog? Har, har, har, everybody.” He pretended to give the bone a bite, only for his jaw to snap right through it. He blinked, surprised, nostrils flaring and bringing the bone to his mouth to properly chew on it. 

And then he ate it completely. 

“Oh,” Lizzie said, dumbfounded.

Joel started to laugh, “Did he seriously just–”

“There’s a terrible bone joke just waiting to be made here,” Scott snickered, politely covering his smile with his hand. 

Jimmy’s face colored, “Shut up! Just hold on a second,”

“Did it work?” Bdubs asked, intrigued. His floppy ears did their best to perk up.

“It…worked,” Jimmy confirmed, eyes widening 

“So I can punch you now? Thank void I’ve been having to hold back this whole time–” Joel started, pushing his way forward and winding his arm back.

Jimmy screeched, high pitched. Etho’s arm shot out to grab Joel by the scruff of his shirt while the poor golden retriever quickly ran behind Bdubs. “It didn’t FILL me up! I’m not anywhere close to healed yet. Get away from me, Joel!”

Lizzie stared at one of her bones, appraising it. Carefully, she raised it to her mouth and gave it an experimental gnaw. She grimaced.

“Let me try it,” Bdubs pawed at the bone, curiosity having gotten the best of him yet again. He immediately managed to snap it in half with his teeth, despite missing several. His eyes widened, “Huh. It’s not half bad!”

“This must be a dog thing,” Lizzie murmured, putting a finger to her chin, “I mean you can feed bones to wild wolves so it sort of makes sense.”

“Wait a tick,” Jimmy said, straightening up, “Wouldn’t that…Wouldn’t that mean…” He let his voice fade off as he rifled through his inventory to pull out a piece of rotten flesh. 

“Oh that is vile, Jimmy!” Joel snapped. 

Jimmy took a bite. His eyes widened. “NO WAY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Bdubs tilted his head to the side. Jimmy handed him another piece of the zombie flesh and he took a brave bite. An explosion of flavors hit his tongue all at once. Savory rich barbecue with just a hint of heat at the edges. He could feel himself salivating for more as he gobbled up the supposed rancid meat. “Oh my! This is gourmet!” 

“Are you telling me, I’ve been panicking for the past few hours when I could have eaten any of the 40 pieces of rotten flesh in my inventory!?” Jimmy cried, sinking down to his knees. 

“This is amazing,” Joel snickered, “I’m glad you dragged us out here, Scott.”

“I’m full of great ideas,” Scott preened, flicking his hair back to emphasize the point. His blue gray tail swished behind him for added effect.

“Anyway,” Etho said, finally making his way to stand by his old friend, “Fancy seeing you here, Bdubs.”

“Etho!” Bdubs shouted, remembering the whole point of the day. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your pack?” Etho faux sniffled, turning his head to the side. 

“I came to check on you!” Bdubs insisted, pushing toward him. “Sure, I was led astray momentarily, but here I am in the end! That’s got to count for something, right?”

“I’m not letting more people move in with me,” Joel growled, putting his foot down. 

Etho patted Joels’ shoulder, lifting his other hand to scratch the back of his own neck, “Ya see, Bdubs, after that whole debacle, I kinda joined my own alliance. A Fe-liance.”

“Oh.” Bdubs took a step back, wounded. “Oh, I see.”

“Aww man, Joel,” Etho caved immediately, turning to the tabby cat, “Can’t we keep him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But look at him. How could you say no to that face?”

“Easily,” Joel said. Scott laughed. 

“Gentlemen,” Scar clapped, grabbing everyone's attention once more. Lizzie made a loud ahem, her tail lashing out in warning. Scar quickly amended, “And Lady. Although this has been quite the joyous reunion, I do believe you three came here for business?”

“We came for information, actually,” Scott cut in, taking a step forward, “From Lizzie, really. I hear you’ve got quite the advantage in this game, this time around.”

Lizzie blinked owlishly, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Bdubs whispered to Jimmy and Etho, who were standing closest to him. 

“That’s the same look you pull half the time,” Etho huffed, crossing his arms.

“Game recognizes game,” Bdubs nodded. “Did I say that right? Gem taught me that one.”

“Joel told me everything,” Scott said bluntly. Joel’s ears pinned back, betrayed. 

Lizzie scowled, turning to her husband, “Joel! You had one job!”

“I didn’t know it was a secret!” Joel snapped, tabby tail lashing behind him.

“Of course it was a secret!” Lizzie huffed. She crossed her arms, glaring up at Scott. “Well, you already know, then. No fall damage.”

“No fall damage?” Etho repeated, eyes widening a fraction. 

“At all?” Bdubs added. “Well, wouldn’t that be nifty.”

“Interesting,” Scott continued tapping his chin, “What else do you know?”

Lizzie glowered, “Maybe that’s all I know.”

“Oh, come on now,” Scott started, his tone lilting as he bent forward to get closer to Lizzie’s face,  “You expect me to believe the great LDShadowlady spent all of her imperial days as a cat and learned only one thing?”

“Oh, Scott,” Lizzie said, turning her head shyly to the side, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Joel visibly scowled. 

“Anybody got blocks?” Etho asked, “I gotta try this no fall damage thing.”

“Oh, it’s amazing Etho,” Joel egged on, eager to latch onto any distraction from his wife’s annoyance at him, “I went all the way to the height limit. You saw!”

“I did see,” Etho agreed with a light laugh. 

“Lizzie’s got cobble in her chest,” Jimmy pointed out, uncrouching from the chest he’d been rifling through.. 

Lizzie whirled around at him, “Jimmy! I saved your life and you’re going through my things?”

Etho grabbed two stacks easily, turning towards Bdubs, “What do you say, wanna give it a shot with me?”

Bdubs reddened, but he took the offered stack, “Oh, well, when you ask so nicely how could I possibly refuse?” Then he pocketed the stack and put his hands on his hips, “Are you CRAZY? I’m no cat! You think me a FOOL?”

Etho cackled, “Just keeping you on your toes, is all.” He wiped at his eye, and hopped up onto a block, “I’m still gonna check it out for myself, though.” 

Bdubs watched with growing wariness as Etho ascended upwards. He could hear the bickering around him start to die down as all eyes veered toward the white cat in the sky. 

“You know, this has me thinking,” Scar started, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “We could be a whole traveling circus. Think of all the trapeze arts! No safety nets. It’d be spectacular. People would pay a fortune to see it. And there would be absolutely no clowns.”

“Shh,” Joel shushed, “He’s gonna jump. Jump into my arms Etho!!” he extended out his hands, only to be nudged in the side by both Scott and Lizzie adding up to one solid tick of damage against him. 

Etho did jump and, without a drop of water,  landed on his feet before them. His tail pointed straight out for balance and his own eyes were wide like even he couldn’t believe it. Then he turned toward his audience and asked, “Did that make you jump?”

“Oh, BROTHER,” Bdubs lamented, rolling his eyes. Hopefully, his lambasting would cover up the jealousy and admiration festering just underneath the surface. 

“I didn’t go that far up,” Etho admitted sheepishly after a moment, stepping away from his stack, “But you know what, Bdubs? I bet you could water bucket clutch from that height.”

“No way,” Bdubs said.

“Perhaps we should change the saying from scaredy cat to scaredy dog,” Joel goaded. 

“Good one,” Scott replied flatly. 

“It was NOT,” Jimmy snapped, “Don’t listen to them Bdubs! You don’t need to prove nothin’.”

“Of course I’m not doing something that stupid,” Bdubs assured. 

“I’ll give you this saddle,” Etho offered. 

“Alright,” Bdubs sighed, pulling out the stack of cobblestone and starting to hop up into the sky. He ignored Jimmy’s squawking and Joel’s cackling, instead focusing on not slipping off his precarious tower. As he reached the halfway point he realized very quickly how stupid he was being. “Committing to the bit never did me wrong before,” he murmured to himself. He blinked and then snapped aloud, “Except for every time it did! What the heck am I doing up here!?”

He stared down at his audience and pursed his lips. He couldn’t mine down to them now. He’d never live it down. He’d bring great shame not only to himself but to all of dogkind. Plus, he really did want a saddle. 

“You’re a professional, Bdubs,” he reminded himself, shaking off his nerves and squaring his shoulders. He pulled out his bucket of water, counted to three, then counted to three again, and then finally psyched himself out enough to just jump at the number two. 

BDoubleO100 fell from a high place. ImpulseSV  > OH NO! IntheLittleWood > First Blood TangoTek > Jimmy you can breathe now! ZombieCleo > I let you out of my sight for FIVE MINUTES

Bdubs opened his eyes at spawn and let out a frustrated scream. He stomped around trying to let the anger out. Oh, he was going to murder Etho, his eternal alliance be damned. He started hoofing it to the otherside of the lake, lamenting his lack of horse. His lack of anything. Especially with the sun already starting to set. It wouldn’t be long until night befell them. 

“Bdubs! Over here!” he heard Jimmy shout. He turned his head to see that both Jimmy and Lizzie were running toward him, meeting him about halfway. 

“We grabbed your stuff,” Jimmy said quickly as he started chucking items out of his pockets and onto the ground. 

“I gave Etho quite the tongue lashing too,” Lizzie assured, “Put the fear of the void in ‘im for messing with my dogs like that.”

“Your dogs?” Jimmy questioned. 

“I gave you each a bone, didn’t I?” Lizzie reminded him. 

“I’ve got a bone to pick with a certain someone,” Bdubs interrupted, pushing past them after accounting for his relatively small amount of things.  He sprinted the rest of the way and in no time he found exactly who he was looking for. 

“ETHO, WHAT THE HECK!” Bdubs shouted, glaring as the white cat seemed to curl in on himself nervously. His white ears pinned so close to his head they became lost in his unruly hair.

“I swear I was gonna put down some water as a safety last minute,” Etho muttered, not looking him in the eye. He rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a horse saddle, “You still want the saddle?”

“I don’t want your BLOOD SADDLE!” Bdubs bellowed, stomping his foot for added effect. “I want my life back!”

“Uh,” Etho started, glancing over to his alliance for help. 

Joel stepped in easily enough, “Sorry, Bdubs, we don’t speak dog.” He grabbed hold of Etho’s arm, pulling him away, “Etho! Scott! Uh, we should go work on the base! That isn’t here!”

“Right,” Etho agreed as he allowed himself to be dragged, “We’ve got a tree to build.”

“You’re even building trees without me, now?” Bdubs called out, “I hate you!”

“Quite the tragic break up we’re witnessing, huh boys,” Lizzie commented, shaking her head solemnly where she stood between Jimmy and Scar. 

“What, you and Joel?” Scar blinked. 

“What? No! Bdubs and Etho!” Lizzie snapped. 

“But you’re sticking with me right? Not following your husband out there? I take loyalty very seriously here, Lizzie,” Scar warned. 

“Of course!” Lizzie waved off, “That man’s dead to me.” She ignored the strangled cry of I heard that from Joel, instead giving Scar a bright cheery smile. He echoed it and the atmosphere seemed to grow a bit tenser, enough for Jimmy to take a wary step back. 

“Timmy, where are you going?” Scar asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah, Jimmy, you’re one of us now, remember?” Lizzie cautioned. 

Jimmy swallowed, “Uh, right, about that. You know, you two being cats, and us being dogs–”

“The circus doesn’t discriminate,” Scar waved off. 

“You took the bone, Jimmy,” Lizzie reminded him sternly.

“Erm, Bdubs, what do you think?” Jimmy tried, turning desperately to the silent pug still watching the trio retreating in the distance.  

Bdubs ignored him entirely, instead screaming out “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs. 

Jimmy blanched as he watched his fellow dog sprint away from him, calling out a desperate plea of, “Don’t leave me here alone!”

Bdubs caught up to the cat trio easily enough. He stood right in front of Etho, who still looked too sheepish to meet his gaze. With his sternest glare he demanded, “Give me the saddle.”

Etho gave a nervous chuckle but handed over the item all the same. “So…we’re good now? No hard feelings?”

“Nope,” Bdubs answered with a cheery smile, “You’re absolutely dead to me!” He then swiveled round, racing back to  join Lizzie, Scar and Jimmy where he left them. 

“Oh, thank the void you didn’t abandon me,” Jimmy sighed out in relief. 

“Abandon you? No! Never!” Bdubs assured, throwing an arm around the taller dog, “We’re bone brothers now.”

Lizzie cheered and Scar gave his own approving cackle as he swept them all in for a group hug. From within the inner circle, Bdubs continued, “Alright, new family, here’s the deal. I’ve got intel I can share about a whole host of these TRAITORS on this server.”

Still, even as he shared all he knew about the locations of the other players and their species, he couldn’t help glancing behind his back every now and then, just in case. And each time his eyes met only the empty landscape, he felt the cold wrap around his heart just a little bit tighter.

#life series smp #grian #bdoubleo100 #solidaritygaming #mumbo jumbo #smallishbeans #ethoslab #ldshadowlady #goodtimeswithscar #smajor1995 #zombiecleo #inthelittlewood #wild life smp

[bonefall]

Can I hear more about Villain Thornclaw? The way you described him is a really cool take on his character.

He exudes a sense of detached ruthlessness, something happened and he just never got over it, most of the time he is a model warrior, but sometimes he says something or gives a cold look, and that hints just how much he is willing to do for his beliefs

The first warrior that Firestar named becomes his most insidious enemy.

He was too young to clearly remember Clawface snatching him and his little sister, but he does remember the way it became an early fixation. His favorite games were always reenactments and play fights, and his father Lionheart and kidnapper Clawface would be characters in them. He often would go too far and play rough, actually biting or scratching his playmate.

We, in the real world, may recognize this as a way kids often process trauma. But they don't have cat therapy here.

And quickly these fixations became unsettling. Brightkit didn't like these games, and their older siblings were disturbed. Frostfur reacted strongly and tried to intervene, but it didn't help the way they wanted.

He got good at hiding it, and he got better at finding other ways to express his fixation. He never knew Lionheart, but he DID know Grandma Speckletail, and she would tell him all about the ways he could be like his dad. When you don't know a person, they can be anything you want them to be.

Turns out if you dress up "I'm obsessively xenophobic of foreign cats and want to rip them to shreds" as "I will ferociously avenge my father and uphold his legacy," suddenly you're golden! It's that simple!

(it's almost like clan culture didnt actually value peace or kindness and just encourages you to channel ur violence towards specific ends)

Thornkit went from Grandma Speckletail to Mentor Mousefur, and she continued to cultivate this. There's a time and a place for aggression. Be good to your clanmates. Use words in camp, not claws. She made a good soldier out of him.

When ThunderClan had a reckoning with Tigerclaw and his ideology in TPB, during his coup, the line of thought that went through Thornpaw and the cats like him was that Tigerclaw was the problem. Who could have known! A shock! Sickening!

...for a while they were "better," devastated by his betrayal, more openminded. But minds don't always trend towards progress.

Eventually, Thornclaw backslid. Let's not throw out the kitten with the tonguewash, here. Yes yes, Tigerclaw was a damn traitor and a hypocrite, but there's worse cats to look up to, you can't deny his nobility, that some of his ideas were great for ThunderClan, that there were lofty ideals he merely took from our grand and glorious history and we can return to those days...

What is so terrible about being a thistle? To lash back when you are attacked? To defend the meadow for you and yours?

We can have Tigerclaw's good aspects without the bad, surely?

And Firestar...

You must understand it's nothing personal. Firestar's a fine cat, for a kittypet. There is no hate for him. But we can't have a leader who stops ThunderClan from engaging in honorable combat. The Clan has become too mixed, and he punished him simply for expressing his concerns. What other choice is there? To do nothing as the clans are destroyed from the inside out?

Bluestar brought wildfire to the forest, to burn it to the ground. Firestar is Thornclaw's natural enemy-- and so is every cat like him.

#Better bones au #BB!Thornclaw #BB!OOTS #thistle law #Cw fascism #cw xenophobia #Cw child trauma #I like writing thistle law perspectives because i think it's terrifying that they can seem so reasonable. In their own heads #It's the way that they frame everything #Defensive and righteous. #Just leave out what you're willing to do for these goals. Make it a free speech/honor/self defense/good things issue #And dont mention that your endgame involves mass slaughter.

[melishatweedy]

My take on Mrs Melisha Tweedy and why she is the way she is:

One of the first things that stuck out at me from reading “Mrs Tweedy’s Pie for the Soul” was Melisha’s backstory. Her father gifted her a puppy but her mother was disgusted with this. She wanted him to buy Melisha something “valuable”. Melisha reacts the same way as her mother does.. however we see a glimpse of her father in her when she agrees to try to bond with the puppy.

It seems she tries to make her mother happy the most, by saying she wanted a “gold telly” which is… unheard of for sure… and unrealistic. This tells me that she comes from a wealthy family.. this is maybe where her lust for money and power come from.. her mother. Her father seems very down to earth. He talks about how a young girl shouldn’t want riches, she should want something along the lines of a puppy, like other kids her age. I was obsessed with getting a puppy when I was a young girl.. just like most of my peers. The way her mother talks to her father is the same tone as she talks to Mr Tweedy.. a learnt behaviour.

We also see that Melisha doesn’t get along with her young peers. She claims she has no friends and is okay with this. It seems her mother’s words about being rich and alone seemed to have stuck with her. She’s accepted she has no friends, which is probably why she wants to be rich. She doesn’t want to be both poor AND lonely, which she ends up becoming after the end of the first film, or even the start.

Conclusion? She’s just like her mother. Her father tried, probably countless times to bring her back into reality and show money isn’t everything. But she’s stuck in her mother’s ways.. which is what we see from the first Chicken Run. The way she talks to Mr Tweedy, the way she’s obsessed with being rich. She most likely feels like she’s failed her mother now she’s poor and on a farm worth nothing. There’s a hint of emotional abuse from her mother.. cold and bitter, especially about how she should act. Here she’s a child, a child who cannot make friends and cannot see why most kids love puppies and toys etc. Thanks to her mother’s rich tendencies.

But why did she end up poor? Where is all this money and riches she once talked about? My guess is something happened with her father and they went bankrupt. Her parents lost everything during the wars. She was probably a teenager when the Wall Street crash happened.. remember it did affect the UK too quite a bit. When she met and eventually married Mr Tweedy, she probably saw the already probably dying farm as a new big business adventure.. but it didn’t go to plan. And in the second film, where she’s now married to Dr Fry, it’s mainly due to money and power. She married Mr Tweedy for love and a big future.. possibly children, which we saw never happened... she married Dr Fry for his money and intelligence.

Mr Tweedy… where do I start? The comic relief of the film one may say. He is a funny character. But she wasn’t abusive towards him. Emotionally? Perhaps some may say. We see her call him all sorts of names.. but physically? No. (Apart from that boot to the ass but that’s not relevant here). A simple man from a long line of farmer, most likely inherited Tweedys farm from his own father.

We see from his excerpt that the marriage is all but dead. However he says that he likes “a kind word from the missus” which indicates there is still a spark there. They do love each other but she isn’t in love anymore. She still does give him these “kind words” from his segment, and we see in the film her pinching his butt in one scene. My theory is they did marry for love, but with the farm failing and them becoming poorer than usual, that once love is now gone, from Melisha’s side anyway.

They divorce because well.. there’s nothing left. The farm is gone, the chickens are gone, money.. gone. They probably sold the farm and then divorced, he mayhaps moved on to work on another farm as a farmhand, and she met Dr Fry and the rest is history. There’s one part in the second film which sticks out to me, where she says “my current husband” meaning she probably will divorce him and take a lot of his money, investments and inventions. Yall know miss Melisha signed her name on many of these things. All I can say there is girlboss!

My ultimate conclusion: she’s had a hard life, give the woman a break. she’s not the “villain from chicken run” she’s a businesswoman with goals and aspirations.

I am all for any other theories or discussions with any of you!! I love it.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

#if Melisha tweedy has one fan: it’s me #if she has 0 fans: I’m dead #this took me ages I was very invested in eastenders #I’m a firm believer in Melisha supremacy #she needs a hug! #melisha tweedy #mrs tweedy #chicken run #chicken run: dawn of the nugget #mr tweedy #dr fry #emma’s chicken run degree

[sydsaint]

Hello fellow writer, I was wondering if you could prompt 9. on the random dialogue with MJF. No pressure. Hope your doing well, Love you♥

Love you too, bestie <3 So have some good ol' angst.

Summary: The reader is Wardlow's younger sister who can't seem to stay away from Max. Despite his jaded history with her brother. And Max can't seem to bring himself to hate the reader the way he knows he should.

"Why'd you even come if all you're going to do is complain?" Wardlow narrows his eyes down at you as you walk through the parking lot with him.

"It's not my fault that I messed up my knee." You frown. "And what do you expect me to do? Sit at the hotel alone and waste away?" You add dramatically.

Wardlow huffs and rolls his eyes at you. You hobble after him, your knee brace impairing your movement slightly. The two of you make it into the building and you head for the women's locker room to catch up with some friends while Wardlow heads for the Undisputed Kingdom locker room.

You are making your way to down to visit Skye and Julia before they're in action later when you happen to run into Max hanging around backstage despite his own leg injury.

"Max, hey." You offer the former champion a small wave.

"YN?" Max looks up from his phone with a surprised expression. "I thought you were out on injury after that ladder match with Red Velvet?" He asks you.

You nod and point to the brace on your knee. "I am. But since I am unfortunately associated with my brother's new group with Adam I've got to travel for promos and shows." Yo explain. "Hey, I'm sorry about all that by the way." You add.

Max narrows his eyes at you, skeptical of your sympathetic smile. Anyone associated with Undisputed Kingdom can't be trusted in his eyes. Not even Wardlow's cheerful sister.

"Yeah, whatever." Max grumbles out a reply and turns away from you.

"Again, sorry." You cough and take the hint. "Take care, Max." You add before you continue on your journey to find Julia and Skye.

Max turns back around when he hears you walk off. He watches you hobble off down the hall and a small part of him feels guilty for snapping at you like that. You've always been nothing but polite when it comes to Max. Even after he stabbed Wardlow in the back, you somehow remained civil with him. And it drives Max nuts. Why can't you be angry with him? Why don't you seem to hate him like everyone else does?

You make it to the women's locker room and find Julia and Skye hanging around. Both girls greet you with hugs and you sit and chat with them.

"So, how are you and Dante?" You ask Skye. "And you and Lee, Julia?" You ask her as well.

"We're good right now." Skye smiles to herself.

Julia matches Skye's smile and nods. "Yeah, us too." She agrees.

"Right. Good." You offer them both a smile. "And I'm stuck being single and injured." You joke. "Yay me!"

"Awe, sorry, YN." Skye frowns and hugs you.

You hug Skye and shrug it off, reminding her that you were just joking. Julia lists off a new names of single guys on the roster that you might be into. But none of them seem to catch your attention.

"Maybe she should try and get with Max." Skye jokes with a snort.

"Yeah right!" Julia laughs with her. "YN hates Max. Right, YN?" She looks to you for an answer.

You bite the inside of your cheek when Julia and Skye both look at you. "Well...I don't know about hate." You admit sheepishly. "I used to kind of have a crush on him back when Wardlow was first hanging out with him." You explain.

"Yeah, but that was forever ago." Julia replies. "Really, YN? After all the crap he pulled with your brother?" She asks you. "And you don't hate the guys guts?"

"I don't know." You shrug. "I guess I don't. Yeah, I'd like too hate him I guess. But I just don't think it's worth the effort. Not that it matters anyway." You add. "Pretty sure that Max hates my guts so." You shrug.

Julia and Skye both nod and the subject changes to something else. You catch up with the girls for a while before you decide to head out and catch up with your brother. Even if that means putting yourself in the crosshairs of Matt Taven and his ridiculous attempts to hit on you.

You make your way through the backstage area and run into Jay White and the Gunn brothers. Jay doesn't pay much attention to you. But the Gunn brothers immediately lock onto you as easy prey and saunter over.

"YN! What's going on pretty lady?" Austin steps up to the plate first and takes a swing at you. "Where are you headed looking that pretty all alone?" He asks you.

"To find my brother." You reply dryly. "You know, my brother? Wardlow?" You remind him of your relation. "Tosses losers like you around in the ring for a living?"

Austin scoffs and it's Colten's turn to take a swing. "Awe, come on, YN. You don't have to be like that." He grins at you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Normally you'd have your brother here to start tossing bodies around. But this time around not only is Wardlow not here to play protective older brother, but you're playing with one good leg.

"Come on guys, I'm really not in the mood." You plead with the brothers to just leave you alone. But you should know better.

"Why don't you come hang with us for a while, baby?" Austin suggests. "We could use some arm candy for the night. Right, Jay?" He turns to Jay watching this whole spectacle from a few feet away.

Jay grins and shrugs. "Well, she is pretty to look at, ain't she?" He chuckles.

You find yourself trapped and without many options for escape when suddenly someone comes up from behind Austin and shoves him hard into Colten. You take a step back and watch Max of all people shove the brothers to the floor and start kicking, despite his known leg injury.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Max stops his assault for a second to look up at you. "Get out of here!" He shoos you away.

You nod and take off to find Wardlow. You find your brother in the Undisputed Kingdom locker room and explain the situation with the Gunn kids and Jay. Furious, Wardlow rallies the troops and takes off to find the idiots. You intentionally leave out the part with Max coming to your rescue and head off to find him.

"Max? Hey, can we talk?" You find Max a few minutes later loitering around backstage again.

"YN? What are you doing back here again?" Max stares at you.

You flinch at Max's harsh words but you know that you've got to thank him. It's the right thing to do, after all. Even if he doesn't want to hear it.

"Look, I know that you don't want anything to do with me." You sigh. "But I don't care. I had to say thank you for helping with the Gunn kids, okay?" You explain. "You know? Everyone here loves to think of you as some evil person that only cares about himself, right? And yeah, you might have one hell of a damn ego, Max. But you aren't evil. I know that. And deep down, you know it as well."

Max's eyes widen at your outburst. He stares at you in silence as you fire off a long-winded speech about how somehow, you don't hate him.

"And yeah, I know that you probably hate me. You've got every right to do so. But I don't hate you, okay? I should. And maybe a part of me wants to. But I don't." You finish up your speech and go to hobble off back to the locker room.

You take about two steps away from Max before he grabs your arm and whirls you back around to face him. "Fuck, YN." Max holds both your arms. "I hate how impossible you make it to hate you." He confesses. "I don't hate you either, you know?" He takes a chance and pulls you into him for a hug. "And you're welcome for Gunn's kids by the way. Even though I'm sure Wardlow is doing a much better job at kicking their ass's right now."

You hug Max back tightly and nod. Once you've felt like the hug has lasted long enough you let go and take a step back. "You know, in another scenario we would have made a good couple." You joke. "But I guess it's too late for us now, huh?" You ask him.

"Awe, don't count me out yet, sweetheart." Max grins and lifts your chin playfully with a finger. "I've been known for making decisions that get my ass beat all my life."

#wrestling #aew #all elite wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew x reader #mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #aew fanfic #aew fic #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fic #wrestling fanfic #syd's wrestling fics #mjf x reader #maxwell jacob friedman x reader

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Repeated Offenses

Summary: Javy wasn’t sure what the mission was that called them back to Top Gun, but he knew if he was there, Phoenix would be too. He seeks her out that first night, knowing that it would be the same game between them as it always was. One of them was bound to get burned one of these days, but luckily for him, he’s never been afraid of playing with fire. 

Pairing: Natasha Trace x Javy Machado 

Word Count: 3.5K 

Warnings: smut (fingering, oral, unprotected sex), language, banter as foreplay. 

Notes: Inspired by this gif, because that “hey” was too loaded with sexual tension to not have some history. 

----

----

Javy strolled down the dark hallway with a cool kind of confidence, his hands in his pockets and his eyes on all the name tags on the doors. He let out a soft “ah-ha” once he spotted hers, and despite his best efforts, his heart started beating a little bit faster in his chest in anticipation. He cast a cursory glance around to make sure he was still on his own before knocking. He kept it light, mindful of the late hour. He wasn’t surprised when it swung open almost instantly; Phoenix had always been a night owl. 

She didn’t look shocked to see him. Instead, she let out a very unladylike snort and raised one of those dark eyebrows that always relayed exactly how she felt about you. “I knew you would show up eventually.” 

“Aw, Nixy. Were you waiting for me?” 

Immediately her smirk fell into a scowl, the amusement in her eyes turning to a glare. “Call me Nixy one more time, Coyote. I dare you.” 

He knew better than to call her on her bluff, but it didn’t stop his grin from widening. Still, he held up his hands in mock surrender. 

“What do you want?” Phoenix asked, leaning against the doorway. He couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down to cast an appreciative glance at the way her crossed arms pushed up her chest. The air conditioning in the building made it obvious she didn’t have a bra on, her nipples peaked through the thin material. Damn. 

A scoff met his ears. He tore his gaze away from his daydream to meet her eyes again. “Halo’s room is right down the hall if that’s what you’re looking for. Rumor has it the two of you are a thing now.” 

They weren’t, not by any stretch of the means, nor had they ever been. Not that he probably hadn’t tried once upon a drunk night, but that rumor was based solely on the way Halo had wrapped his arm around her own shoulder in an effort to fend off guys who couldn’t take a hint while she waited for her date to come back from the bathroom. Her very pretty, very female date. But Javy wouldn’t tell Phoenix that, not when he thought he could maybe detect something that smelled like jealousy rolling off of her. 

“Who could you have heard that from?” he asked. He let his eyes widen in fake shock, putting a hand over his heart. “Were you asking about me?”

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Now now, don’t get mad. There’s enough of me to go around.”

Her eyes narrowed and her spine straightened and he knew he was pushing it, so he dropped the act before he ruined his chances completely. But fuck, needling her was like the best kind of foreplay - it always had been.

“Halo and I aren’t a thing,” he said with a simple, nonchalant shrug, leaving it at that. “You jealous?” 

He tested the boundaries by taking a small step forward and was delighted when he wasn’t immediately punched in the face for it. Instead, Phoenix stepped to the side to allow him entry into her room. 

“More like I’m just not interested in being your homewrecking side piece, but whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

He heard the soft click of the lock once she shut the door behind him, and he didn’t have a chance to respond to her quip with one of his own before she was grabbing his shirt in her small, deceptively delicate hands and pulling him down to her. His lips met hers and he couldn’t help but groan. She tasted like mint and chocolate and it dragged him in like it always did. He let his hands fall to her hips and pulled her flush against him as he licked into her mouth. She responded with equal fervor, pushing him further into the room. 

He was acutely aware of the electricity crackling between them, the raw passion that seemed to ignite every time they were in close proximity. It always happened like this, spanning all the way back to their academy days. But it had gotten more intense the last few years, and he would never admit it, but he had missed her. 

Their lips parted, both breathing heavily as they locked eyes, their gazes filled with a mix of challenge and desire. Phoenix’s fingers traced a path from his chest up to his neck, her touch igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume them both.

“Always so eager,” she murmured, her voice laced with a hint of amusement that did nothing to mask the heat simmering beneath the surface. 

“You’re one to talk.” 

“If you can’t handle it, you’re free to go,” she told him. “I could always see what Bagman is up to tonight.” 

Javy shook his head with a grin, knowing that she was trying to goad him. Once upon a time using his best friend against him would have worked. But he knew that ship had sailed, and it hadn’t been the smoothest of rides for either of them. “We both know he doesn’t do it for you, Nix.” 

“You don’t know shit.” 

He let his hand trail up under the hem of her oversized shirt, feeling the soft skin under his fingertips. Despite the warmth of her skin and the glare she was sending him, she shivered. “I know he’s not as good as I am. Did he even make you come?” 

“Maybe he did,” she sassed, defiant as ever. He chuckled, the sound low and mocking in a way he knew would get under her skin even more than knowing that his best friend had told him about their failed tryst. He swore he could almost feel the temperature in the room rise with her ire. 

“Or maybe he didn’t. That’s okay. We both know I’m the best.” 

Her irritated glare morphed into a sharp smirk and a raised eyebrow, and Javy’s cocky grin slipped from his face. He knew before she even spoke that she would win this round - no one ever stood a chance against that look, not even him. 

“Oh, Coyote. Just because you’re better than Bagman doesn’t mean you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

He growled as he slammed his mouth to hers again in a bruising kiss. It lacked any kind of finesse, messy as he tried to purge the thought her teasing had instilled from his mind. Something that felt awfully like the jealousy he had seen in her eyes earlier hit him like a tidal wave, possessiveness that he had no right to feel taking over. He was under no illusion that they were exclusive, but he’d be damned if he let anyone else be better. 

Not when no one could ever compare to her. 

She laughed into his mouth at his aggression, the sound turning into a hiss when he retaliated by biting at her bottom lip. She pulled away with a glare that he paid no mind to. “Take your clothes off,” he told her, “and get on the fucking bed.” 

“You first,” she challenged. He huffed out an annoyed breath, but excitement coursed through him, too. 

Phoenix was a force to be reckoned with, and he couldn’t deny the thrill that came with being caught in her fire. 

With a swift movement, he stripped off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. The toned muscles on his chest and abdomen flexed as he undid his belt and stripped himself bare of his jeans and briefs, too. All the while he kept his gaze locked with hers. The way she watched him as he moved toward the bed made him feel a bit like prey, and he reveled in it. 

She stood before him once he was settled on the small mattress, a slow smirk spreading across her kiss swollen lips as she began shedding her own clothing. Javy’s fingers itched to trace her skin as she pulled her shirt over her head, her sleep shorts quickly following. She had nothing on under them. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, taking in every inch of her. It suddenly felt like it had been entirely too long since the last time they ended up here. She was all perfectly defined curves and toned muscles, her tan skin glowing in the dim light of the lamp. He reached for her, his big hand circling her wrist and tugging her forward. “Come here.” 

She listened to him this time, her eyes never leaving his as she let him pull her onto the bed. He kissed her as she settled onto his lap, her pussy warm and wet against his hard length. He explored her mouth as his fingers dug into her hips, holding her still. He felt her relax into his embrace, losing herself in his kiss. He knew the moment she let her guard down and he capitalized on it, her back hitting the mattress with a small “oomph” as he flipped them. 

He didn’t hesitate, his lips traveling down her neck. He braced himself on one hand as the other slid between her legs. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

He smirked into her skin as her moan met his ears. Her wetness coated his fingers as he teased her slick folds. Their bantering was as effective as ever - she was soaked. 

“All this for little ole me?” he asked playfully. 

Phoenix didn’t say anything, instead just arching into his touch with a gasp. He continued exploration, his tongue tracing a path down her stomach, making her shiver and moan as his fingers teased at her. He took his time, savoring the taste of her skin and the sounds she was making. Their earlier banter had been a game, a way of riling the other up in a way that really only they could do, but now he wanted nothing more than to prove why it was him she kept letting into her bed. 

Javy pushed her legs apart, spreading them wide. Her pussy was as a sight to behold, glistening in the dim lighting of her room. He inhaled deeply, nearly feeling dizzy. “You’re so fucking wet, Nix. That’s how I know you want me.” 

Before she could say anything, he buried his face between her thighs. He couldn’t help the moan he let out as he got the first taste of her. Salty and sweet, with a hint of spice. He licked her folds, dipping his tongue into her core and sucking gently on her clit. She moaned loudly, her hands grabbing his head and holding him against her. He reached up with one hand to cup her breast, squeezing it roughly as his other hand slid two fingers inside her. He curled them, stroking the spot he knew would make her go wild. Her response was exactly what he wanted - arching off the bed, her breathing becoming more ragged. He smirked into her, knowing she couldn't resist him like this.

"Oh god," she moaned, her back curving even further. "Yes, that's it."

He could feel the muscles in her inner thighs tensing as she got louder and more desperate. He knew she was close, but he didn’t want to give her what she wanted quite yet. He extracted his fingers and changed his pace, his tongue flicking over her clit, teasing her and bringing her closer, but not letting her get to the point of no return. 

“Coyote,” she groaned, the hand on the back of his head pushing him closer. 

"Not yet," he said, his voice a low rumble.  He blew a breath against her pussy just to see her shiver. "I want you to beg for it.”

“Fuck you,” she ground out, but it was followed by a moan as her hips ground against his face. Her body was trembling and her wetness was dripping onto his chin, but he continued to tease her, darting his tongue between her folds, making her whimper and buck her hips. She let out a frustrated growl and he smiled, knowing he had her just where he wanted her. 

"Please," she finally whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. 

It was a start.

He applied more pressure with his tongue before he sucked her clit into his mouth. He let his fingers, still damp with her arousal, circle her entrance before slowly pushing in. She let out a loud cry, her fingers digging into his scalp as she tried to hold him closer. It was a glorious sight, her face twisted in a mixture of pleasure and agony.

"Please," she cried out, almost pleading now, her hips bucking wildly as she sought to find that release he was denying her. “Javy.” 

Hearing his name and not his callsign on his lips was his breaking point. He thrust his fingers in and out of her in a frenzied pace, not letting up as he methodically played with her clit, tracing the letters of his name with his tongue against her most sensitive area. 

Her thighs shook on his shoulders, her whole body trembling as she neared her orgasm, and he knew the exact moment she fell into it. She cried out his name again, and the word sounded like everything he ever wanted. He continued to lick into her, his fingers thrusting almost lazily as she rode it out. It was only when he knew she was a little too sensitive that he sat up with a satisfied grin, licking his lips and then his fingers, savoring her taste. Her chest heaved and her body was tinged the prettiest shade of pink as she picked up her head to look down at him, their eyes meeting as she panted. She didn’t say anything, but the dazed, fucked out look she had said enough on how good she was feeling - how good he had made her feel. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he informed her, climbing back up her body and caging her in as he settled on top. His cock was throbbing hard and long against her smooth thigh. He kissed her, their tongues tangling together. She moaned into his mouth at the taste of herself and his cock twitched in desperation. 

“Fuck me,” she breathed against his lips, and the words tasted something like victory. Even so, it was an invitation he couldn’t resist. He slid himself through her warm, wet folds, coating himself in her. She shivered at the sensation and snuck one of her hands between their bodies to wrap around him and line him up where she wanted him. “Javy, please.” 

It was his turn to tremble as the sound of his name on her tongue washed over him again. He slid into her slowly, letting her feel every single inch of him. She cried out, arching her back in reaction to the sensation of him filling her. He took a moment to savor the feeling of being inside her before he began to move slowly, building up a rhythm that they had established years ago worked for them. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her. She was so fucking tight, her wet heat pulling him in and begging for more. The sight of her face, flushed and desperate, drove him wild. 

“Fuck, Nix,” he groaned, his hips going faster and harder. 

“Kiss me,” she demanded.

Javy breathed out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Ask me nicely.” 

Her heels dug into his lower back and his laughter cut off into a choked moan as she clenched down harder around him. 

“Kiss. Me.” 

He surged forward to claim her mouth, or perhaps her claim his, in a sloppy kiss. It was a clash of tongue and teeth and spit, and everything that he needed. 

She raised her hips to him, urging him on, and he needed no further encouragement. He thrust into her harder, each stroke eliciting a desperate sound from her that he swallowed greedily. Her nails dug into his back and he felt the sting, but he didn’t mind. If anything, the thought of having her mark on him made him even hotter. The sounds of their combined pleasure echoed in the small room, a wet, satisfying sound, and he knew it wouldn’t be long for either of them at this point. He could feel himself nearing the edge, his cock throbbing inside of her.

He pulled away enough to look at her face, loving the way she always looked in these moments. She was gasping for her, her skin flushed, her eyes wide with pleasure and desperation. Her pussy clenched tightly around him. 

She was close, so very close. 

“Come for me,” he rasped against her lips. “Come for me, baby.” 

“You first,” she choked out through a moan, and he huffed out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. He reached down between them to press his fingers against her clit, moving them rapidly. Instantly, her orgasm was washing over her. She shook beneath him as her walls clamped down on him, her pussy gushing around his cock.“Oh, fuck. Javy!” 

The sight of her coming apart underneath him was more than he could take. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned. He could feel his balls tightening, begging for release. He thrust into her one final time, pleasure coursing through his body as the coil inside of him snapped. He emptied himself into her with a shout of her name, her actual name, and a fleeting thought that it had been far too long since he felt this content. 

He collapsed afterward, his chest heaving and his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Her arms wrapped more securely around him, her breathing growing steadier. It was only when she tapped him lightly on the back, a silent complaint of his weight on her, that he knew he had to move. He pulled out slowly, glancing down and savoring the sight of his cum seeping from her. 

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, and Phoenix laughed lightly at the curse. He shot her a tired wink as he pushed himself off the bed. His nakedness didn’t bother him at all as he crossed the small room to the even smaller bathroom, running a washcloth under the faucet. He brought it back to her in silence, handing it over. She took it with a small smile and a nod of gratitude and he watched as she wiped away the mess between her legs. 

He tried not to dwell on the fact that she rarely let him clean her up himself. Despite the fact that it was his cum seeping out of her, she claimed it was too intimate of an act. 

When she was done, she discarded the damp cloth onto the floor. She stretched out on the small bed with a satisfying groan, tugging up the blanket at the foot of the bed to cover her. He had to actively hide the pout that wanted to creep up on his face, both at the vision of her being delightfully naked going away, and at the unspoken message she was sending him that she was done for the night. 

With a sigh, he reached for his discarded clothing. 

“You ready for tomorrow?” he asked, hating the silence. 

 “I’m always ready.” Javy rolled his eyes, but didn’t disagree. He’d be wrong if he did, afterall. “Any theories on what it might be?” 

He zipped up his jeans before he sat at the chair at the small desk in the corner, working on getting his socks and shoes back on. “No clue. It feels like it’s going to be crazy though.” 

He hadn’t let the strange mix of anxiety and excitement come through until right now. Their next mission was always a gamble, and something about this felt different. When Javy looked up, it was to see her smirking from where she lay on the bed. She raised a dark eyebrow when he caught her eye. “Should be fun.” 

He huffed out a laugh as he stood. He slipped his shirt over his head and double checked that his phone and keys were still in his pocket before he walked over to the bed. Phoenix looked up at him as he approached, curiosity written on her pretty face. He gently grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up and leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. He coaxed her mouth open, their tongues tangling together. It was slow and unhurried, so unlike the rest of their exchanges that night. Just when he felt her sinking fully into it, he forced himself to pull away. He pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaning into her ear. 

“I hope you’ll be able to focus on flying tomorrow, and not thinking about how good you just had it. I’d hate to be a distraction,” he whispered. He winked as he turned to the door, and her outraged gasp followed him as he closed it behind him. 

______

Main Masterlist

Notes: I have a partially written super angsty part two that explores more of them during the events of the film, if anyone would be interested.

Thank you to @roosterforme and @sylviebell for not letting me get out of writing this one and for the help along the way!

#alli writes #phoenix x coyote #natasha trace x javy machado #navy #javy machado smut #javy machado imagine #javy machado fic #natasha trace #javy machado #natasha trace smut #natasha trace imagine #tgm smut #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

[zeravmeta]

Super Sankta 2 Exu sounds like an excellent idea Zerav. For maximum meme, she's a John Wick style Guard- just uses guns to bash in people's skulls.

Super Sankta 2 Exu whose going John Wick style on people is funny but my concept for Exia Alter was always based on like, the concept that Skadi Alter first introduced that we all thought at the time was gonna be the standard fare for alters

My Ultimate Sankta vs Exia 3 concept was based around the idea of a "Bad End" Exia the way Skadi Alter is, where Exia would be further mechanized ala Executor and become an emotionless seraphim-type unit who would essentially be the ultimate Sankta weapon. This would happen as the result of Laterano having some kind of big event that would cause them to pull all remaining Sankta from all corners of Terra for their promised day of ascension where they would leave Terra and all its problems behind, with certain Sankta (Like Exia) essentially being the vanguards and protectors of these people (I essentially just took the idea of the Rapture and assigned it to the Sankta), with the event concept in question being Penguin Logistics invading this holy land to save their girl.

So like. you can imagine how hard ive been popping off with all the new lore reveals we've gotten over the past 2 years. That said, this concept is a little outdated, and just leaving it at that would be no fun

So here's my pitch for how Exia Alter 4: The Quest For Peace would go with modern foresight (added read more because reasons)

The Popes basement computer in Zwillingsturme just let out a directive that they need to gather their best Sankta to fight against the end of the world. This is in conjunction with the last few events squarely tying together Iberia's Seaborn plotline with both Laterano and Siracusa and their dividing faiths. Now, all of this is in conjunction with the hints we've been getting that Penguin Logistics is going to split up (Lappland and Mostima have already flown the coop, and currently the rest are in Siracusa helping Texas the Amogus, but that will likely not last especially bc Exia's own anniversary line all but majorly hints at this split happening because they all got different stuff going on)

If Penguin Logistics splits, Exia will well and truly be left without a support system.

Now, Exia has always been kind of off as far as Sankta go, because for all intents and purposes she shouldn't be out of place: We see just how Sankta tend to act in Guide Ahead, and Exia didn't really seem all that different. Yet, when we look at her history and actions (she was basically kicked out, she was super accident prone which made other Sankta hate her, as part of Penguin Logistics shes constantly drunk, Texas herself says that Exia being an optimist makes her different, etc), she's actually Really different.

Almost like she has an abnormality compared to other Sankta. Me and a few others (check out @annierosaart post here) have speculated on her being different, but we also don't really know WHY: Even if she was suddenly disconnected from the Sankta empathy powers, we don't see any indication of how, and unlike Ezell we don't have any sort of 'wake-up' moment for her.

But given the weirdness about her and her lines, I think I know what the exact nature of her abnormality may be (and heres my pitch) when looking at the most relevant characters who have abnormalities, namely Executor and Arturia, because I think she falls in line with them (shameless plug to my old exia/executor buddies post):

Executor's abnormality is that his emotions are incredibly muted compared to others. He isn't heartless or emotionless, but more that his heart and mind runs on rationale and logic first and foremost, which almost disqualified him from being canonized had he also not been Laternos single most competent man because saint fedex is entirely disconnected from caring about petty things like being racist.

Arturia's abnormality is that she is receptively empathetic to the point she has nothing within her. She can remove the inhibitions of people, and this is in service to understanding them, because she lacks an understanding of herself: She has a grand dream of an empathy for the world even beyond the Sankta Empathy power, and to accomplish this she draws out the emotions that people hide. As a result, she reflects the emotions of others within herself and thus is incredibly empathetic to the point she's also lacking in emotions and a self.

Exia? I think that her abnormality is that she's too emotional, that the emotions she feels are far more amplified compared to others.

I believe this for a couple of reasons: All the weirdness surrounding her aside, whats the one thing that's always defined Exia? Her Rapid Casting EX. It's always been memed about, but simply firing a single bullet from a gun is akin to casting an Arts attack, with guns serving as a type of wand in these cases. Exia is the only character within the series whose been noted to be so fast with her arts and casting.

This post here does a phenomenal job expanding on this point, but Arts are an expression of the soul, they're influenced by emotions and become stronger with them because they are ultimately expressions of the self, which all characters in and of themselves having a "unique" arts inherent to them. Hell, all of Leithaniens arts are based around using musical expression, while Sarkaz are noted for their arts based on souls and memory, with the literal main heroine of Arknights having an empathy based arts superpower.

Exia, having Super Emotion as her Sankta halo abnormality, could explain why shes so good at gun, even without Oripathy, because said emotions are boosting her casting ability. Remember, anyone can use originum arts, it's just that oripathy is needed for them to be able to do it without a casting device.

This heightened emotion could also possibly explain her crush on Mostima, and even why Mostima is so weird/cruel about her: Mostima was simply a childhood friend alongside her and her sister, and yet when she left for Lungmen, Exia was hot on her trails and then waited 4 YEARS to be beside her and meet her again. She joined Penguin Logistics specifically because of Mostima. It's incredibly likely that Exia might have just had a small crush on her that then spiraled heavily because of this, and Mostima (with her chronic backstory-itis letting her find out that the whole Sankta and halo thing is a scam from her op files and events) might even be aware of this aspect of Exia, and may have wanted her to get over it, always leaving to try and make Exia move on but also always coming back because she needs to look after Exia. After all, if Exia had heightened extreme emotions, what are the chances she could die of grief? She already gets drunks regularly, and despite being cheerful and optimistic, Exia is wearing a mask hiding an incredibly depressed individual.

It could also be possible that the reason why Exia never noticed this is because while it doesn't let other Sankta feel her emotions, she can still feel that of others. She's always confused as to why back in Laterano people always accused her of being disingenuous, because can't they feel her emotions? Well, if she has Super Emotions, it could potentially be overloading her halo, so while she can receive signals, they can't be felt by others. Moreover, this mechanical aspect blends in well with her E2 art, where she is the single operator in the game without an animal/living motiff

Even other Sankta have birds and/or human statues and robotic elements (funnily enough, Executor Sniper only has crosses but even then he is clearly being themed as specifically an angel), but Exia? She has her guns, becoming wings as a ring forms with them. She's literally ascending while her wings become darker.

So what does all this mean?

Well, the Pope's basement bonzi buddy just sent out a directive for the Pope to gather the best Sankta to fight against the end of the world, and who else to recruit but a vulnerable, lonely Sankta who was kicked out for being TOO destructive? Exia's profile does make mention that despite appearances, she is also incredibly pious just like other Sankta, and if the Pope himself came knocking, wanting to give Exia a place back in Laterano, and in a high ranking, respected position no less?

She would jump at the chance, not only to be beside her sister (and possibly Mostima), but also to be accepted back into Laterano society.

Executors own halo has a mechanized element to it, where he also gains more parts to it when he goes from normalest man to saint fedex, so he likely underwent some kind of modification to go along with his promotion, especially because he also now carries an Nier Automata companion cube with him straight from the machine

If Exia is to be canonized, she might be adjusted in a similar way by The Law.

She might even be fully altered into becoming Laterano's perfect weapon to fight against the end of the world. The Witch King himself describes this approaching threat as a void of infinite knowledge which seeks to eliminate them, an unshakeable truth of existence that drives people insane.

The Creator must perish.

What better weapon to fight against such a thing than one who feels her own emotions so strongly she cannot be swayed? Or better yet, an equally as unshakeable, emotionless machine?

#forgive this humble blogger for the late reply he had simply forgor #zerav meta #arknights #this post became waaaaaaaaaay longer than intended but IM LETTIN IT ALL OUT

[kimberly-stocks]

I’ve got a nsfw literati prompt 🙏

could you write something along the lines of Jess helping Rory de stress after constant studying? 👀

Canon compliant. Set in season 3, sometime in spring I guess? At the time Lorelai started seeing Alex. Not in any way connected to my story Things I'd never say.

Rory heard a light tap on her window and stood up from her desk, stretching tired muscles to open the window for Jess. She pushed the frame up and looked outside to find her boyfriend standing there with a to-go cup of coffee from Luke's.

"Hey," he said giving the coffee to her.

"Bless you!" She took it gratefully, gulping hungrily.

"You didn't come by the diner after school, thought you might need some fuel."

"Yeah, I had to study. I have this stupid history test tomorrow," Rory groaned.

"When do you think you're gonna be done with it?"

"About ten, maybe?" He nodded in response.

"I'll leave you to it then," he gave her a small smile and almost turned to leave, when she tugged on his arm, and pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss.

"Thank you for the coffee, you're my hero."

"No problem."

~xxx~

A little after ten Rory stood up from her chair, every verterbra creaking in protest from being in the same position for too long. She was just putting her books and notepads away when she heard a tap on her window once again. She smiled to herself and went to open it for the second time that night.

"Hey, how's your studying going?" Jess asked intertwining his fingers with hers through the frame.

"I just finished. Wanna come in for a bit?"

"Where's your mom?"

"She's staying at Alex's tonight."

"Huh," he smirked at that piece of information. Coming here was a right choice after all. He sneaked inside with the grace of a cat, closing the window behind him. Rory plopped on her back across the bed.

"I'm exhausted, all those dates and names, I have no idea how I'm gonna remember it all tomorrow, so much cramming with only one cup of coffee is an impossible task." She whined. Jess came to lie next to her, taking her hand in his.

"I know a great way to help you relax," he started.

"Which is?" She turned to look at him.

"Orgasm," he smirked.

She gulped nervously. She let him touch her boobs through her clothes for the first time a few weeks ago, and since then Jess was dropping hints about doing something more, but she still wasn't ready to have sex with him. She didn't want to offend him, but didn't want to go all the way either. It was quite a predicament.

"Uhh... I'm not... You know..."

"I know. You don't have to have sex to get an orgasm, you know?" He turned to look at her only to catch her turning away from him, her cheeks flaming red.

"Oh..." She didn't know how to react to that. What did he expect?

"It's okay if you're not ready for that either," he squeezed her fingers tighter in reassurance.

A long pause followed. Jess seemed relaxed, enjoying just being next to her, while Rory's thoughts were racing a mile a minute. Was she ready for anything sexual at all? It sounded kind of enticing. Scary, but enticing nonetheless. And her mom wasn't going to be home till morning. But she had a test tomorrow, so she couldn't be late for school. She didn't want the repeat of her first year with that meltdown about a Shakespear test. Then again, it wasn't awfully late yet, and she could use some relaxation.... She squeezed Jess's fingers to get his attention, and asked "What else can we do for... You know, uh, orgasm?" She could see his smirk out of the corner of her eye. She still didn't dare to look at him directly, too embarrassed and shy about the whole conversation.

"Remember how I touched your breasts the other day? I can touch you like that down there too. Through the clothes. Or not. If you want."

"Okay," she whispered after a moment of hesitation. She felt him move to hover above her. They locked eyes before he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, coaxing her to relax. The very next second her instincts kicked in and she lost herself in the kiss, like she always did with him.

They were making out for a bit until she felt his palm covering her breast gently. He started massaging it, kneading and rolling her nipple between his deft fingers. She moaned into his mouth. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath her sweatshirt, so she could feel everything. Encouraged by her reactions he went to kiss and suck on the sensitive skin of her neck. His hand never leaving her chest, alternating between her soft mounds. Rory was clutching at his back, threading fingers through his hair, pulling his head closer to her neck. She loved it when he kissed her neck. Then slowly his hand started travelling lower until it came to the juncture between her legs. She pressed them together, losing focus for a second. He looked up at her "May I?" She nodded shakily and relaxed her thighs. His palm landed on her pubic bone and just settled there, his fingers between her legs, applying pressure and heat to the most intimate spot even through her sweatpants. His eyes went completely dark, contrasting to his usual hazel shade. Her lips parted in anticipation, and he started rubbing her softly, careful not to scare her with overwhelming sensations. It felt weird in a way that she never let anyone do that to her, but she still didn't quite understand what she was supposed to be feeling. And then.... He found her clit and everything changed. She gasped suddenly at the shock of feeling like an electric current went through her limbs.

Jess focused on that spot he found, and started rubbing her there in circles, increasing the pressure some. Her eyes closed and she was washed with pleasure she's never felt before. He kept caressing her methodically, tirelessly until her breathing got shallow and with one final moan she climaxed in front of him.

"There you go," he whispered pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, extracting his hand from between her legs slowly.

Rory was lying there with her eyes closed, breathing erratic, her mind completely blank of all the thoughts and concerns. She blindly reached for him, and he intertwined their fingers one more time. Watching her was such a treat. Looking at her pale cheeks gaining color, and then shining bright pink with arousal, her lips parting, her tongue darting out to lick them, her chest rising and falling, nipples hard, poking through the fabric. She was a vision. And he was pretty sure he just gave her the first ever orgasm of her life.

#gilmore girls #jess mariano #rory gilmore #rory gilmore fanfiction #literati prompts #literati smut #literati fanfiction #jess and rory #jess x rory fanfiction #jess x rory #roxy bluff #my writing

[burningvelvet]

My analysis on Heathcliff and his relationships, and some interesting excerpts from Juliet McMaster's "The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery" via JSTOR (TW: abuse, sa/sexual violence, generally graphic and potentially triggering content)

*note: I've had half of this in my drafts for a while. My last reblog, which discusses Heathcliff's lack of attraction to Cathy II, inspired me to finally expand on & post it. That reblog is here: https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/738896230943522816

Cathy II is one of my favorite characters and I think her dynamic with Heathcliff is fascinating. I would say that while he may not be attracted to her (indeed, he sometimes seems repulsed by her) his behavior toward her IS explicitly predatory as it includes lying to her, manipulating her, physically abusing her, kidnapping her, and forcing her into a marriage in which he helped to seduce her with love letters under his son's name.

Combine this with his behavior toward his wife Isabella, in which sexual violence may be easily inferred as he says Isabella hated him a day into their marriage (and sure, some people conceive on the first try, but what are the odds? and the concept of marital rape didn't legally exist back then) — not to mention Heathcliff calling her a slut (sexually violent epithet* *editing this post to say that "slut" was a mainly gendered term, but in Brontë's time it didn't have today's more sexualized meaning; for most of history it primarily meant "slovenly" aka messy/careless), and both of them vaguely referring to heinous abuses she undergoes in private (and what could be worse than what we already know about his treatment of his subordinates). With how determined he was to get a male heir, and that being the whole reason why he married her, it is not much of a stretch to assume that he bedded her multiple times until she showed signs of pregnancy. It is a very easy thing to infer actually.

He was probably as insulting and as violent (or at the very least, cold) with her in bed as he always was in every other aspect from the very start of their relationship. As they both confirm that she receives his abuse openly (until her escape), and as she wishes to be a "good wife," she likely did not struggle to avoid her "marital duties," but again, she clearly hates him for most of her marriage, and we learn that she despises him immediately after their marriage when the veil finally fully drops. And with how upfront with her he initially was about his intentions, and how his own verbal admissions + outright verbal abuse failed to quell her desire for him initially, what more than physical and especially sexual violence could have led Isabella to despise him so soon after their consummation? Their sexual experiences couldn't have gone splendidly for her, and for him it was likely a mechanical chore he likely resented and was therefore probably not delicate with (he hates delicacy anyway).

Yet, while Heathcliff is violent and predatory (in the colloquial as well as the primal, animalistic sense, as he is always related to nature even in his very name), he also contains hints of a long-buried goodness, as we all know, and this is what makes him a fascinating protagonist. He has a capacity for strong feeling, a deliberate if not faulty moral code, and he sometimes shows kindness accidentally.

This is why Heathcliff catching baby Hareton is such a pivotal moment in the story, because it is only after he saves his life that he actually realizes what he's done and then muses that he should've let the child die. This scene shows that his natural subconscious instinct is actually good, and that his external situations are what have shaped his darker impulses on the conscious level. In other words, he causes us to examine the nature vs nurture debate.

Despite later abusing him, Heathcliff sees Hareton as a son-like figure in his own twisted way, and in the end as he loses his life forces, he gives Hareton and Cathy II his blessings like a father would — he essentially is Hareton's father, and he is legally Cathy II's father-in-law, first through his son Linton and then we could say through his unofficial adoption of Hareton, who he says he would have preferred as a son. So Cathy II has Heathcliff as a sort of double father figure, though of course she would never accept this.

At one point, Heathcliff notes that he takes good care not to do anything that could be proven to be criminal or illegal. In his usual exactness, he was pretty much right. He is always tip-toeing the line of immorality: in the gothic literary tradition, his relationship with Cathy I has incestuous undertones, but they are not legally or biologically related, and so he skates by.

He declares that he has no regrets and that he's done nothing wrong by technical standards. Manipulating, lying, mental and physical abuse of one's financial dependents, and marital rape (hypothetical or not) were all within legal bounds for the most part, and even the forced marriage of Linton H./Cathy II was done through the process of emotional blackmail (and physical evidence in the form of her love letters) so that in his mind, he wasn't actually responsible.

However, Heathcliff may have reasoned that sexually abusing one's daughter-in-law in revenge may be in violation of the law; that he would gain severe detraction from his "slaves" Nelly, Hareton, even Joseph; and that if such a huge scandal broke out, he would have a harder time finding tenants, etc. — also, I don't think Heathcliff would have felt like he "needed" to sexually abuse Cathy II to get revenge against her/her family, because as he says, at that point he already has his revenge and his victory; he already has her lands, and degrades her every day by forcing her to be a servant and a slave, and by abusing her in every other way. Sexually abusing her would be an extra effort on his part.

And I don't think he would gain anything out of it aside from revenge. I don't really think Heathcliff has much sexual interest in anyone at all, probably not due to inborn asexuality but due to his depression, trauma, emotional repression, and general issues. Although he and Cathy I have an extremely passionate spiritual relationship, I can't say that I believe he ever experienced fully actualized/conscious sexual feelings even for her. Considering their youth and rocky position when he leaves her for his hiatus, and the very brief period of their reunion, their relationship was likely never "consummated" — or at least I see no hard textual evidence to suggest that it was, although I'm sure many people could probably argue against this. And regardless of whether or not he and Cathy I ever had a physically sexual relationship, I don't think he could ever really be seriously attracted to anyone but her.

But in order to get his revenge, he did bed Isabella likely multiple times until her pregnancy. And as McMaster demonstrates below, by encouraging Cathy II to marry his son — and quite literally seducing her himself by writing love letters to her under his son's name — Heathcliff essentially beds her by proxy, if not in actuality. He wants her property, and he wants her, and because his son is the same age as her and dying, he decides to use him as the perfect pawn to access her by

If Linton H. died before he could be married to Cathy II, would Heathcliff have attempted to marry Cathy II on his own? I think this is a fascinating topic to theorize about, and I can only assume the answer would be yes, because Hareton wouldn't have worked as a pawn, though perhaps Heathcliff would have simply manipulated Hareton to sign over Cathy II's inheritance to him instead (as the laws of marital coverture meant husbands were entitled to 100% of their wives money/property/inheritance). But at that point Heathcliff was still looking for revenge (and therefore may not have been adverse to getting it like he did in his first marriage with Isabella), and he may not have wanted to be financially responsible for the newly weds and their potential offspring, or to suffer legal repercussions if Cathy II or someone else convinced Hareton to hire a lawyer lol. But I digress.

And as the last quote in the following list demonstrates, I think it was not only a touch of the gothic incest theme that Emily was going for by having Lockwood assume Cathy II is Heathcliff's wife, but that it was intentionally symbolic of how weird and difficult-to-define their relationship is: they don't act like father and daughter in-laws, but he is legally her provider and in-house patriarch, and she is the lady of the house, and she is the closest thing to her mother he has. I could write whole essays about that last point & the similarities of both Catherines, such as their fearlessness, particularly toward Heathcliff (and I believe this makes him uncomfortable and even scares him at times).

---

Excerpts from Juliet McMaster's "The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery" via JSTOR:

"Linton is called at one point 'only a feeble tool to his father' (205). In the sexual context he becomes a sort of human dildo, which his father uses to rape and degrade the second Catherine, the child bride whose birth caused the death of the Catherine whom Heathcliff loved."

"'Making love in play, eh?' says Heathcliff of the young couple, with grim jocularity (188). And that is the way in which Bronte develops this courtship of juveniles."

"Heathcliff even writes half of Linton's love letters for him, so that they turn out 'singularly odd compounds of ardour and flatness,' 'copious love letters, foolish as the age of the writer rendered natural, yet with touches, here and there, which I thought were borrowed from a more experienced source' (182), records Nelly. Catherine is being wooed by son and father together. And when the time comes, the marriage is consummated by the same team."

"[Linton] takes his pleasure, when Catherine pushes him off, in summoning his father and in witnessing the physical domination of his bride [..]"

"After Heathcliff abducts and incarcerates young Catherine and her attendant, he keeps our narrator, Nelly, imprisoned for 'five nights and four days' (220). Meanwhile the marriage ceremony is performed, but we have no one to describe it for us."

"'She's not to go; we won't let her' [..] Now more than ever Linton's life and opinions are ruled by his father: he can do little more than parrot what 'he says.' If Linton's satisfied mein suggests the happy bridegroom, his role as husband, lord and master is shared with his father."

"Heathcliff testifies, 'I heard him draw a pleasant picture to Zillah of what he would do [to Catherine], if he were as strong as I. The inclination is there' (228). Linton evidently has a conception of himself and his father as complementary in this sexual context, part of a team."

"Heathcliff's appropriation of the property and physical abuse of the bride leaves her in effect deflowered. His brutal blow that makes the blood flow recalls his symbolic defloration of Isabella, Linton's mother, when he hurls the knife."

"[Heathcliff] won't listen to Nelly's pleas that since he hates the young couple he may as well let them stay at the Grange. 'I want my children about me, to be sure,' he answers with chilling irony; '—besides, that lass owes me her services for her bread' (227). One wonders what sort of 'services' he has in mind. He apparently intends to prolong the honeymoon at which he has assisted. And as he takes her away, there is some doubt, as in Lockwood's mind at the beginning of the novel, whether Catherine is Heathcliff's daughter-in-law or his bride [..]"

Source: McMaster, Juliet. “The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery.” Victorian Review, vol. 18, no. 1, 1992, pp. 1–12. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27794707.

#wuthering heights #emily brontë #catherine linton #linton heathcliff #heathcliff #jstor #quotes #literary criticism #literary analysis #bronte sisters #heathcliff wuthering heights #english literature #literature #tw rap3 #tw abuse #tw sa implied #tw sa mention #tw sa #academia #tw #tw graphic #excerpts #media analysis #Juliet McMaster #the brontës #cathy ii

[dmagedgoods]

There was this writing prompt in the wotr fandom, to describe why the KC loves the LI they chose, and I think I'm too late to the party, but since I didn’t post any writing for a very long time, well, I guess I just leave it here. It’s very rough and unpolished though.

~

"You maneuvered through the political shoals most elegantly, there is no denying it."

As always, she managed to make even a well-aimed compliment sound like a secret insult.

"You think me a usurper, don’t you, Lady Konomi?"

"This kind of candor would be inappropriate, my lord."

Her fork found its way to her half-empty plate. She ate the way she spoke: Stilted and with finicky consideration – allowing all too clear insights into her preferences and dislikes. He still had to get used to seeing her at least attempt to make use of her so-called diplomatic skills instead of only promoting them.

"But yes, I do."

A smirk played across his lips, amusement, almost delight. There it was. He enjoyed the confirmation that some things would never change.

"You must forgive me, but you ask us to put our faith, the wellbeing of this whole country, in an ambitious stranger.”

“A stranger, even now? I failed to prove myself in your eyes?” The calm amusement had not left his tone and he took a sip of his wine.

“As a military leader? You did without the slightest doubt. It is by no means my intention to disregard your impressive achievements. But to Mendev itself, with all its history and entanglements? I’m still of the belief that the successor of our dear queen Galfrey should be a member of the countries elite, not a visitor from Absalom.”

A visitor. He raised his brow.

“Though I admit, I underestimated you when we first met. I didn't recognize your skill and … determination."

"I know and love this country, Landy Konomi, and I was trained and educated for this very purpose: to rule."

"No matter the price, I assume?"

"No matter the exertion it costs."

"And no matter the tools, as it turns out. Although, observing your methods, I would have expected you to pick the one standing at your side with greater care. You want his name, I am aware, but with the reputation you gained, you could take your pick among other influential noble families of Mendev without choosing the worst rake this country has to offer."

“The Arendae name will be of immense value,” he admitted openly and in complete calmness while putting his empty glass down on the table and giving the waiter a gesture. “Barely any other name in Mendev carries the same weight.”

“This move leaves us with this dangerous wastrel on the throne you’ll share.”

“A throne he is the next in line for – without me in the picture as well.”

“A right he would never claim without you in the picture.”

“Maybe so,” The waiter refilled his glass with graceful routine and silently left them again. “And it would be a tremendous loss for Mendev and its people.”

Konomi looked at him with undisguised discontentment.

“It’s not a disguise,” she observed. “You actually have a high opinion of him.”

“The highest. Or I would never have fallen in love with him.”

“But …” A hint of genuine surprise lay on her features. “But why?”

He leaned back and crossed his legs.

“You don’t observe, I’m afraid. You think in categories and clichés, but you don’t see him. – Not even in the field you call your profession. His wit, his broad knowledge, his charm and courage, all of it allows him to disarm and maneuver political allies and opponents alike. It’s remarkable to watch and a pity he likes to disguise his qualities. Nonetheless, I love him for those remarkable features he hides as much as for this endearing mask.

I love him for the obvious things, his eloquence, his taste, his intelligence. But even those seemingly superficial things go much deeper: It feels good to be with him, it feels like belonging.”

Konomi listened attentively without interrupting him, curious for more, it seemed, and so he continued:

“I love him for his lightness that makes every burden disappear, for his humour, as dark as it will get, the offended faces of those around him who can’t even tell when he is joking and when he becomes serious, for the way he bathes in their reactions.”

“Quite despicable,” she commented.

“You think so? I cherish his skillful, shameless provocations. But even more his shining passion for life itself. He enjoys it in remarkable ways and every single day. It’s intriguing. It’s inspiring.”

A little smile appeared on his face.

“I love him for the things we have in common – in upbringing, our hobbies, vulnerabilities we prefer not to show and if we do …, well, then never easily. At the same time I love our differences with an equal amount of passion. He complements me, opens my eyes to new points of view, corrects me in anything I have been too sure about. Every once in a while, I think that he may know me a little too well.” No one before had ever made an effort to go that deep. – While, of course, he’d vehemently pretend not to. “He understands and even in cases he doesn’t …” The smile on his lips turned into sobriety while he searched the words for an emotion too big to be captured by sentences and his little speech. “He is at my side, there for me, no matter what it takes and he has proven it over and over again during the crusade.

I love him for his courage, for his deep loyalty, for the moments the good in him becomes so strong he can’t hide it, but also for those where the cruelty wins over. He wants me as I am, the inconvenient parts as well, and I want every facet of him, the bright and the dark. What we build we build together. And what scared him in the beginning of our journey became his true freedom. Our true freedom.”

Konomi stayed silent for a long time before she eventually cleared her throat. “Well, I have to admit you still surprise me. I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

The amusement was back in his eyes. “Only a chosen few are aware of this little fact.”

“In this case, I feel honored, commander.”

Something in her face – and he couldn’t quite place it – seemed softer than before. She took the menu and started to look for desserts while the waiter came and took their plates.

“And thank you,” she suddenly added, “I may reconsider my opinion about him. Slightly.”

“Please don’t.” He smiled and took his glass. “He would be inconsolable and never forgive me, I fear.”

#pathfinder wotr #pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #daeran arendae #daeran #commander x daeran #knight and dae #daeran x commander #lady konomi #knight commander salvadore #oc: salvadore #my ocs #dmagedtexts #my writing #LI prompt

[cloveroctobers]

bloodwar — JOEL MILLER

A/N: Y’all voted and so shall you receive! Im nervous writing for such a loved character but here goes nothing! If you’re not familiar with my work…I always provide the angst. You’ve been warned.

GIF BELONGS TO: @pedrohub

WARNINGS: I’m always writing my characters with black or POC in mind yet you’re somewhat welcome to imagine whomever as the character/reader is not fully described, fem! Reader, language, lightly paraphrased sexual themes, trauma/lost, & hints of a toxic!relationship the deeper I went into writing this thing. I do believe Joel can find some healthy love romantically but there’s things within himself that needs to be worked through. I am no therapist, I’m simply a girl who likes to make people feel some things with writing so I’ll stfu! Again this is my first time ever writing for this man so I was trying to get into the mind of his character as I wrote so don’t slander me too much if you feel this isn’t right. Lastly this focuses more on uncertainties? That’s it!

˗ˏˋ╰┈➤ ´ˎ˗ ˗ˏˋ╰┈➤ ´ˎ˗ ˗ˏˋ╰┈➤ ´ˎ˗ ˗ˏˋ╰┈➤ ´ˎ˗

The bruises and Lambrusco weren’t enough for her to forget or to catch her off guard. She noticed him way off, through the fence and across what once would have been pretty pale blue water, turned murky and brown. Getting around that lake would take some time and that time was granted as she left the watch tower with her bow and arrow. The only reason she came down from the watch spot was to retrieve the mischievous lamb that loved to escape the barn.

“Got you, you little shit.” She scolded as the animal kept up the banter; while she scooped it up from underneath the belly.

Her senses then allowed her to hear footsteps before he spoke, “Do you?”

Tension filled her shoulders as she took a sharp inhale before she spun on her heels, revealing the lamb and her new weapon of choice.

“Joel Miller,” the name pushed through her lips, “can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you.”

The man scoffed, “that’s no way to treat the man of your dreams.”

A roll of her eyes was immediate, “you and I both know you weren’t serious.”

This much was true and if it were any other time and circumstance, the words probably would have stung as they left her mouth.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” Joel muttered as he began to stare, which always irritated the woman.

“Can I help you with something or are you just gonna stand there being a creep with your beady owl-like eyes?”

Joel laughed to himself, almost liking that his presence was getting underneath her skin but also at the fact that she wanted to get right to the point.

“What? I can’t enjoy the view and the luxurious secluded home you’ve got for yourself here?” Joel attempted to tease but the woman didn’t appear to be in a joking mood.

Which the man didn’t bother to take offense to—even if he wanted to, he received the emotionless expression that remained on her oval face and assumed his own features showcased the same, although the little twinkle in inky eyes felt like he attempted to make the mood lighter.

It was her turn to trail her eyes over him and she could tell how much life passed him by. It had been years since she last saw Joel. Their history was shifty and rough from the beginning, since everyone was trying to get adjusted to the downfall of society—being thrown towards a new virus and death filled life it was safe to say, they got into some shit together to survive. They both were not as alone at the start since Joel had his brother Tommy, where they ventured from Austin to the east coast and on their way, they met a woman with no filter and her kind but no nonsense having father in Memphis. It was war from the very moment the Millers stepped onto the Lemelle’s riverboat but a truce between the families brought an unlikely path in their relationship. Eventually she, her father, Joel, and Tommy made it to Boston.

After the death of Kendy’s father, the realization that the QZ was not all it cracked up to be, she made the decision to leave first back in the year of 2010; in search of a place with no restrictions. Yet sharing that news with Joel that summer the sun burned down in almost a red hue and instead of just simply disappearing into the night without a word…was something she wished she would have done instead.

“Tommy or Maria sent you?” Her chin lifted in curiosity.

Joel exhaled, “I’m sure you know the answer to that already. I get the sense Maria and I are not gonna be the best of friends.”

“Whaaat? Don’t tell me you never wanted a sister?”

Joel just blinked at her, “fuck off, Kendy.”

“Hey you came to me,” her face held mock innocence, “what you see is what you damn get. Also mind you, I’m the one with the weapon.”

“Yet I’d probably get to that thing before you can even aim to shoot. Lamb chops sounds pretty darn good to me.” Joel warned but Kendy looked more offended than horrified.

The lamb seemed to tilt its head at Joel’s statement as well, floppy ears almost appearing alert.

Which was weird to witness…

“you sure about that grandpa?” Kendy cooed as she pulled her knee up to balance the weapon before adding, “what’s the matter, they’re not feeding you well out in Jackson?”

Joel scoffed and folded his arms as he peered out into the distance of Driggs, pretending to think about it. Of course the food was good, real good considering back in Boston the lbs for food were mostly scraps and back out into the destructive world with Ellie was way worse. Sure he stuffed his belly until it became bloated and uncomfortable but he didn’t want to get used to it, regardless of settling—staying—stationing? in Jackson.

There was no use in complaining about the way things are.

Joel was always about action.

“Why here?” Joel steered the conversation elsewhere, “You’re a great distance away from Wyoming.”

Kendy hummed, “forty-four minutes by car. Longer by foot, which is just fine by me.” Before carrying on, “Did you really expect me to be there too, waitin’ around?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Joel exasperated, “it’s a sense of community, belonging or whatever they’re trying to go for. Something that would have been good for you and—

Kendy almost stopped breathing, the gears turning in her head, thinking Joel was first hinting at some sort of relationship that wasn’t platonic with his brother, taking into consideration that the pair got along well, however the way he rubbed at his mouth in frustration told her his words were aiming at another topic.

“Ah, now I see why you felt obligated to be here. Trust me, I don’t need this.” Kendy hissed, turning back around to head to the barn.

Joel hesitated because part of him didn’t want to do this either…yet it’s been a long time coming. Thirteen years to be exact. He’s in a whole other state and he didn’t travel all this way, by himself (persuading Ellie to stay back with Tommy for at least a couple of days, was hard work and he expected the freckled face girl to find a way to keep close. However Joel didn’t miss how Ellie was starting to spend some time with a certain girl named, Dina.) to not get the answers he deserved.

“Trust?” Joel stomped after her, “I dunno how you want me to do that darlin’ when you’re the one who ran from me, knowing you were carrying a child. My child.”

She whipped back around, making Joel almost bump into her but she shoved him back with a fist pressed to his chest. Her eyes were heated as she met his stare, “it didn’t matter! I wasn’t your problem anymore, ‘good riddance,’ remember? You really think a child would have fixed what we were? We couldn’t get along if we weren’t on top of each other.”

“You still should have had the decency to tell me something. It’s not right how you did it. How I have to find this shit out from my baby brother but even still…he didn’t tell much. So you better start talking.” Joel glared, pointing a finger in Kendy’s face.

Kendy slapped his finger away, “I don’t know who you think you are, Joel Miller but you don’t get to show up here and make demands. This time, I won’t hesitate to put one right in your chest if you keep pushin’ me.”

“Will you put the damn lamb and arrow down, Robin Hood, so we can have a decent conversation?” Joel snorted, finding this image almost humorous, if his blood wasn’t simmering, “I can’t take you seriously.”

Kenny scoffed, “well you better! Seeing you again and talking to me crazy is making me want to go back to old Kendy.”

Joel deeply inhaled and pinched at the bridge of his straight but hooked nose. He was aware what that means, the whole shoot and ask questions later was what life was like at the start of the outbreak and it only increased once they crossed paths.

He still had a bald spot, that no form of nioxin would cure! thanks to the woman throwing an axe at the top of his head (it happened sometime in January of 2004, Joel remembered Tommy slipping on the ice on the boat floor, surprised the younger man didn’t catch that in their stealth—although it seemed he didn’t get much sleep before their arrival to the water. Which caused quite the commotion before the real physical events transpired) , temporarily trapping him against the door the minute he got close to where she was located on the boat. Joel recalled the burning sensation of his hair being ripped from his scalp as he yanked himself from the wall, axe still having a hold on his thick hair, as he struggled to pull the axe from the wooden door.

“And here I thought Jackson was all for redemption, guess Maria isn’t as convincing as she seems.” Joel mumbled.

Kendy gave him a blank stare for a moment before she replied, “not too much on Maria now. Yes she’s opinionated and we don’t always see eye to eye either but shes a great asset to that community and she makes your brother happy. So accept that or talk that shit out when you get back because I won’t continue to listen to anymore jabs you want to toss out while you’re here.”

Joel raised his brows, “you’re gonna let me stay?”

“It’s getting dark out and I’m guessing you left your car across the lake so…you can stay in the barn or the tower. Your choice.” Kendy decided while she entered the said barn.

Joel shook his head, “I’m not sleeping with the damn farm animals.”

“We’ve all slept in much worse places, don’t get uppity on me now, Miller.”

Joel crossed his arms, “You get a one star for hospitality, Ken’.”

“Which is exactly why I put my two weeks in after three days of working at this hotel during my college years so thanks, sugar.” Kendy clapped back, making Joel shake his head in disapproval but not surprised.

Joel watched as Kendy showed almost this nurturing demeanor with the lamb and sheep, silently wondering what she was like with their own child…that was still bizarre to process and Joel was unsure if he even processed this although he was standing face to face with the woman he created another being with! It had been days since he found out this piece of information and now he was trying to do something about it. When they were intimate with each other, Joel foolishly never thought of the possibility of Kendy becoming a mother. He never brought it up because he obviously had no intentions on being that ever again, or spoke much of their past lives once their bodies fell into each other’s hands. It was a after thought when she sat down on him, so warm and sturdy. He was cold, this he knew but falling in love was never in the cards for him, especially with the world crumbling with the little pieces it had left.

What he had left.

He’s seen Kendy and how she was tender to her father once he got sick, he knew Kendy still had soft parts inside of her despite the jagged scar that trailed from the corner of her left eye and down the apple of her cheek, the delicate was still there—just don’t tell her that.

Part of her found something to care for to keep going, even if it were deemed as little things or “nothing” at all in her eyes. Did that also include a child?

Which is why Joel battled with himself on seeking answers. He didn’t speak to Tommy for days after the curly haired man blurted out the secret Kendy withheld from the older Miller. Joel was the one who brought Kendy up, at the saloon one late night, after everything failed at the hospital with Ellie. It was hypocritical of him—sure—but this secret was way before Ellie had been a thought of being the cure.

Joel still wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting to get out of Kendy. The idea of becoming a father again, scared him shitless but he wouldn’t show it. Kendy didn’t create this child all by herself and they had to be grown now, however fatherhood was never a easy task and life after the outbreak was just as stressful; throw a fourteen year old into the mix and it was constant worry from there. He initially wanted to warn Tommy about this and actually deemed him a, “dummy,” for bringing a kid into this fucked up time, until tommy let the news slip from his lips when it really wasn’t his place.

Drops of rain were cool against the Idahoan spring before they started to pelt. Joel shielded the top of his head, standing at the entrance of the shelter as Kendy made her way through the barn, locking and boarding it up just in case she got any other visitors tonight.

“Come on,” Kendy waved the man to follow her to the back entrance of the craftsmanship home, just as the wind began to pick up.

Yanking the blinds down over the glass door, she made sure to lock it and set her bow down by the rest of the archery kit. Joel took the invitation as he scanned the home, straight ahead held an ajar door, he then walked through the small entry way on his left, noticing a set of stairs to the right and headed into the next area which held the kitchen and living room with two other window-framed doors that lead outside, suddenly peaking around for any other source of life.

“Where’s—

“Joel,” Kendy clipped, “take off your damp shoes, you’re tracking mud. Do you want some wine or coffee first before we tackle this, since you’re so adamant to talk?”

Joel peeled off his jacket and bag, before using the couch arm to kick off his shoes with his feet. He then held them up silently asking where he should put them and Kendy pointed at the front entrance door.

He then replied, “Coffee.”

“Black, no sugar and no cream.” Kendy whispered to herself as she went to the kitchen, fighting with her intrusive thoughts to tell him to make it his damn self.

Joel silently watched her for a moment before he headed over to the wood stove which seemed to be going already. His eyes still searched the walls for any pictures or sculptures just like Tommy and Maria had in their own home but the walls were empty besides it’s horrible aqua color.

His attention was brought back to Kendy, walking by him, reaching for the handle on the stove, opening it to reveal the fire behind. She squatted down, mitten reaching for the tray to place the mug right on top, before shoving it back over the center of the fire. She counted sixty seconds before pulling back out, closing the stove and moving back to the side table to place the black coffee down.

“Give it a few minutes,” Kendy told the man who dipped his head as he moved back to the spot he claimed on the sofa.

Kendy soon made her way around, taking a seat on the opposite couch, bottle of Lambrusco and wrapped herself in some fur blanket that probably belonged to one of her many sheep.

Sorry animal lovers, desperate times call for desperate measures and you’re supposed to help the sheep shed their fur from time to time!

Taking a swing from the bottle, Kendy deeply inhaled after swallowing before her eyes set back on Joel, “okay. Ask away but don’t ask to respond. Listen, or else we won’t get far tonight.”

Joel rubbed at his pants legs, hearing Kendy and decided to not pick that response apart.

“…when did you know?”

“Not long after you and Tess.”

Which happened once after they both had too much to drink and Kendy wasn’t in the mood.

Believe me, Joel’s knows how shitty that was, he was the one who lived it.

“There was no Tess and I.” Joel uttered, not getting the chance to further explain that relationship but they were friends who spent time together as smugglers.

There was chemistry there regardless.

“So just like us, got it.” Kendy snapped her fingers, breezing over that as she ordered, “Next question.”

Joel scratched at his salt and pepper beard, “was the…baby also the reason why you wanted to leave? Did you think I’d ever find out?”

“A small part of it yes. We already know what the main reason was: Boston’s QZ was becoming dangerous and suffocating just staying there, I needed to get out whether you knew i was carrying or not.” Kendy answered, taking another sip from the bottle.

Joel could understand that but he figured it wasn’t any easier being out there on your own especially with a life growing inside of you, her elderly father was deceased and Tommy was debating on another trip out (with the damn fireflies and Joel wasn’t sure which pissed him off more!) ; although they shared hushed conversations about their exit…part of Joel still didn’t understand why she put herself through that on her own.

“Well how did that work out for you?”

Kendy let out a humorless laugh at the sarcasm that radiated off Joel, pulling one leg up onto the couch, “just dandy. I’m living the dream with my sheep and this eye-blinding house.”

Alone.

He breathed out a laugh through his nose, mind fuzzy, heart not feeling as steady as it should as he fidgeted with his hands. Before he got the next question out, he turned to grip the mug by the handle and brought it to his lips. The steam mists his nostrils as he took a sip of the coffee, the heat not bothering him in the slightest while the dark liquid slid straight to his stomach, igniting the impulse to see some action.

“Was Idaho the place you envisioned to raise the kid?”

Kendy closed her eyes briefly as she said, “No. I didn’t see myself as a mother because I didn’t have much of one in my life. It wasn’t really a goal of mine. I stayed in Pennsylvania for awhile, three months maybe? made a friend that was once in the medical field and thankfully she helped me through it all.”

“She helped you deliver and then what?” He pried.

Joel rested his elbows on his knees, eyes set on the woman not so far from him this time. He felt the shift in the room rising as he continued to ask whatever popped into his head. He noticed the woman rack her nails against the black bottle, plump bottom lip with a beauty mark on it moving to the right as she bit down on it out of habit.

This was something she commonly did, Joel remembered that.

“Joel…it’s been thirteen years.” Kendy averred, “I couldn’t do it.”

Joel tried to keep his breathing steady, “meaning what? You got rid of it? Let this friend take care of them…what Kendy?”

He was never a man with patience.

And Kendy had time to cope with this.

So instead she got to her feet, holding the neck of the bottle to place on the coffee table before she set her eyes back on Joel. He leg began to bounce as it seemed Kendy was almost playing a game with his mind right now. A frown of his brows appeared in between them while she began to unbutton her jeans, pulling them down some and yanking up her shirt to reveal a scar underneath her navel.

“It was a ectopic pregnancy. I needed surgery, I was bleeding out and Kristi did what she had to do. I almost died and I kinda wished I did, along with that baby. And finally away from all this shit.” Kendy vented.

Joel felt a smidge of bile rising in this throat but taking another swing of coffee pushed it back down. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel, or if there was a right way to feel.

“So…this was for nothing then.”

Kendy blinked, “what?”

“Coming out here, seeing you, and almost having wishful thinking when you killed the baby that you originally didn’t want and I wasn’t sure I even wanted.” Joel told, placing the mug back on the table.

Kendy couldn’t help the cackle that escaped her lips. She had to press her fingertips to her lips as she pointed her pointer finger up and down at the man.

“Nothing’s really changed with you and this is the exact reason why I should have put an arrow right through your chest where your heart is supposed to be,” Kendy seethed, “you’re a very broken person with no ounce of mercy. I saw it in your eyes the day I met you and I should have believed that then.”

“If that was true then you’d already be dead, back in Memphis, on that boat. So don’t stand there and try and tell me who you think I am.” Joel lowly stated.

Kendy huffed, pulling her jeans back up her wide hips and buttoning them before raising her hands, “why not when you’ve already shown me exactly that? You’ve never given a damn about me and certainly wouldn’t give a damn if the baby lived! Nobody compares to—

“Shut up! You don’t get to speak her name!” Joel was also on his feet now, absolutely aware what wanted to leave her lips.

The room was quiet for a mere second, besides the crackle of fire in the wood stove and the dash of rain outside.

Kendy tilted her head to the side, framed piece of hair sliding to cling to her eyelash, “Sarah.”

And that set Joel off, a forearm going to Kendy’s throat and his hand slapping against her mouth. He harshly breathed into Kendy’s face as he glared down at her. The rings of bags underneath her eyes showed just how tired he felt. He’s never spoken to Kendy about Sarah but it didn’t take her long to figure it out with his nightmares when they slept in the same space, going city to city.

Tommy only implied that he and Joel lost someone prior to their role of survival and Joel’s said her name a few times in his sleep.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Joel gritted, “you think I haven’t changed when it’s you who hasn’t. You’re a know it all without actually knowing anything. You run any chance you get, always thinking about what’s best solely for you and nobody else. What a lonely life, don’t you think?”

A fist went to the side of his neck first, catching the man off guard, followed by a knee going up into his abdomen, leaving Joel fighting to catch his breath. He let go of Kendy who circled around and crouched to get into Joel’s face.

“Why would I stay? Imagine me having a normal pregnancy in my forties and having a child with a screwed up man that can’t love? Or doesn’t even like me enough? I’d say I dodged a bullet here and I thank god.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, using her other to bring the cross around her neck to kiss with a wicked smile.

Once Joel got his breath back, with the quickness, he swooped his arm underneath Kendy’s, locking her in his hold as he yanked her side to his chest by the shoulder. Kendy winced as she tried to spin her body out of his hold and when he wouldn’t let go, she tried to ram her shoulder into him but with his grip, he merely stumbled.

“Get off me!” Kendy yelled, ready to jam her foot right into Joel’s.

He kept hold of her shoulder, knowing it wasn’t at its strongest, even after all these years, hearing it click from scar tissue as he freed one hand to grip the side of her head, bringing her ear to his lips.

“If I didn’t like you…I wouldn’t have followed you that night to make sure you made it to Connecticut’s state line back then, if I didn’t like you I wouldn’t have accidentally called Tess your name once while looking at her but not really seeing her, if I didn’t like you I wouldn’t picture you when I touch myself, if I didn’t like you I wouldn’t have numbed myself out of missing you since you left, I wouldn’t have asked Tommy about you, and I damn sure wouldn’t have thought about you and I with Ellie, the kid, and Sar—on the ride here. like I said, you don’t know.” He then shoved Kendy away from him.

Kendy felt a lump in her throat at Joel saying this. Sure these were his words and it sounded nice, although she didn’t know who this Ellie person was but that didn’t mean he never hurt her and with his back to her now, she tugged on his belt loops, getting him to face her again. She wasted no time, moving her hands to grip the collar of his long-sleeve shirt to bring his lips right to her’s.

Joel hesitated feeling Kendy’s lips against his after all this time. It wasn’t unfamiliar so he was only shook for a second before the desperation settled in. His hands rested on her cheek, then down to her backside, then back up to her cheek, the pad of his thumb touching where her jagged scar ended and the other on the back of her coarse hair.

He tasted the Lambrusco, she tasted his precariousness, his left ear rung as the tip of her tongue traces his bottom lip, and he lets out a groan as a form of a unsaid apology. Until Kendy nipped his bottom lip—hard to the point she drew blood and Joel had to pull back to test his theory.

“Did you just—

Kendy deeply inhaled and exhaled with her lips raw and puffed from the pressure, “I want you gone by the fucking morning, Joel.”

He wiped the blood with his thumb as he watched the woman move around him, snatching up the wine before she made her exit.

Snorting he shook his head at her retreating form and moved to take a seat back on the couch with a exhale. This is what it used to feel like with Kendy leaving his sight after whatever interaction they had but this time felt a little different. There was no way in hell he could say this was a new beginning. He stared up at the ceiling in thought, quite conscious how this all played out and that this was a trial and error—when wasn’t it with the two? However this battle was not something he wanted to entirely give up on just yet.

Not anymore.

He had the time to get it right and part of him wanted to with Kendy.

And if they couldn’t…it’ll be a fair one this time.

No it didn’t make any sense and no this probably wasn’t the healthiest of relationships but Joel was never perfect, the flaws: scars, the bruises that were black, blue and sore, and the blood were okay with him as long as he was doing it with Kendy, he never wanted perfect.

Perhaps fighting, getting it all out into the open field was the answer and you can ask anybody: when has Joel Miller ever been afraid of getting his hands dirty?

And so he sat in the quiet with Kendy upstairs in her bedroom lost in her own thoughts, her back against the door when a crooked grin appeared on his own lips.

Here’s to additionally another round with Kendy Lemelle!

But…Who’s counting?

˗ˏˋ╰┈➤ ´ˎ˗ ˗ˏˋ╰┈➤ ´ˎ˗ ˗ˏˋ╰┈➤ ´ˎ˗ ˗ˏˋ╰┈➤ ´ˎ˗

Continue along with my spring anthology series here.

#Spotify #tlou #tlou hbo #Joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x black!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x black reader #tommy miller #maria miller #tommy x maria #maria tlou #ellie tlou #Ellie Williams #ellie miller #sarah miller #joel x tess #queued #joel x ellie

[cult-of-the-eye]

How's ur um. Horror. Perchance even in comic form

horror comic rant part 3 electric boogalee:

and folks we are back again, i am answering these during my 5 minute study breaks (love u pomodoro) and it is definitely a contributing factor to keeping me going. i love the way u asked this btw

school bus graveyard:

buckle up people you are in for a RIDE

so this is another female main character who is joining my list of all time favs oh my god i love her

her name's ashlyn (ash) and she is so fucking cool, she does ballet, she keeps her ginger hair in long ass plaits, she is horrifically bendy, she keeps cool under pressure, she struggles to communicate her feelings, she low key hates people, but she trauma bonds with a group of people who somehow become her found family, she's most likely autistic (my own headcanon for her but like you'll see)

i don't think its a romance but they're hinting at one btw ash and this other guy (aiden) and its very black cat x golden retriever vibes

yeah anyway so ash gets put into a study group with like 6 other people who are all so interesting in their own ways

you got tyler and taylor - twins who are fiercely protective and supportive of each other, taylor is super emotionally skilled, she is able to get the group to calm down etc etc, tyler is really very hot headed and not very nice at first but then he gets better

it's revealed that their dad passed away and since then, their mum has been struggling with long term mental health issues and some damage to her memory, where she'll periodically forget that her husband died, so tyler took it upon himself to sort of be the adult and take care of everyone

then you got ben and aiden who are cousins, aiden is fucking insane i love him, he is wildly extroverted but in a low key uncanny way, he's constantly grinning and it's clear from the start that he's some sort of thrill seeker who is pretty much doing things for the plot and has no regard for his own safety or wellbeing (his character makes me froth at the mouth)

(we later find out a bit more about his backstory, hinting at a history of depression and suicidal thoughts, and when he "dies" at one point, his final words are "so that's what it feels like" which is AAAAAAAARGH)

and then we got aiden who doesn't speak, he's kind of a gentle giant, he sticks closely with aiden and he seems really sweet (he's sort of the medic of the group)

we find out that he was bullied in his previous school cause he was really into singing even though he looked like a "tough guy", eventually he was horrifically beaten up and then choked, which damaged his vocal chords, so he stopped speaking cause he didn't like the way his voice sounded

we've also got logan who we don't know much about, we know he's the shy, nerdy sort, he got bullied and forced to do other people's homework, he lives with his grandparents and works at their flower shop but he's also an amazing shot with a gun so like...

(there is plot but i may make that into another post cause this is so long)

once again, thank you so much for indulging me, this has gotten me through my studying lol

#answered asks #horror comics

[tgrailwar-zero]

The standoff was tense. AVENGER's Lamenting Exterior snapped back on him in the flash. The staredown was marred in thick silence before CASTER finally spoke, smiling as casually as one would at a meeting between friends.

"Reminder that this is nothing personal. Just the throes of a Holy Grail War."

MOONCANCER was sending a Servant. He was headed there, but it was a matter of if he would be able to make it in time.

"Foreigner… how are you feeling?"

She scoffed, her hands gripping her paintbrush tighter.

"If you're askin' if I can fight, I'm fine. Code Casts aren't respondin', though. You should be worryin' about yourself, you were movin' slow during the confrontation with Alter-Ego and took a few nasty hits. Still, if we need an extra boost, I can always put Toto-sama in the driver's seat…"

AVENGER didn't totally understand what that meant, but she had a point. Without Masters, his movements and mana consumption had been sloppy, unfocused, and actively detrimental.

FOREIGNER's mana was actively rising. It was inky. Thick, pulpy, unnatural and disgusting. But necessary. This was the dilution of a power much, much more unseemly.

...RIDER was nowhere to be seen. There was a chance that he left- considering he was Masterless, a fight like this would be his one and final battle- if his enemies didn't kill him, he'd most likely run out of mana. That, or perhaps his reasons were more personal. Or he was flanking, and playing it safe. Lots of potential options on that front.

Music was a choice. But he'd need to play fast. Same with attacking. And while he was fast, there was no telling what kind of counterattacks these Servants had up their sleeves.

CASTER stared at the two Extra-classes, her eyes narrowing as her smile widened.

"Well, perhaps it's a little personal. Your Masters are quite unique, yes? They're a threat that I'd rather stamp out sooner than later. At least before Saber can get a bead on you. Perhaps you can hide in your second shell when we finish this one. Lancer, are you ready? Our victory here cements a step forward for the Blue Faction."

LANCER stepped forward, his mana swelling around him.

"I am Vlad Ţepeş! The Voivode of Wallachia! Infidels that stand before me, ready yourself for annihilation, and pray that our Lord is merciful to your souls in the afterlife!"

A True Name reveal. A spike in mana. That most likely meant that he was going to use his Noble Phantasm…

For most Servants, it would be a trump card. Holding one's True Name so close to their chest that even the slightest hints would be a tactical disadvantage. However, this was Vlad the Impaler. His name alone carried a level of fame, weight, and fear that allowed him to be more powerful than his time would allow. His maddened devotion rendering him immortal in the annals of history.

To him, in this form he held, hiding such a True Name would be ridiculous- because it would be alleviating his enemies from that fear.

And his enemies certainly felt fear. A chill ran down AVENGER's spine, his own True Name lost, but the sparking flames of the sins that held him down began burning and toiling within his stomach. Fear. Guilt. Anger. Agony. Facing the Son of the Dragon would mean death, his body nothing more than another corpse on a pike in the lands of Wallachia.

...Speaking of grudges. It'd be a risk, but there was always CONDUCTOR. Revealing the existence of AVENGER's source of hatred would be a massive boost in power… but at the same time, the drawbacks would be notable, no matter how successful the actual trigger was. Still, neither CASTER nor LANCER seemed as if they were willing to back down.

-

#thgw: chapter 3 #thgw story #main post

[axewchao]

Komari and Lilac, Revali and Rito!Dallie's hypothetical children that were originally thought up back in 2020. I don't know what compelled me to give them complete designs, but I went and did it! 

But since y'all are more familiar with Rito!Dalex, I guess we can say that they're his kids too. How would they be brought into the world if the parents in question were both guys? Hell if I know. I mean if same-sex couples can have kids from praying to a friggin' tree in Rune Factory 5, then maybe there's some other magicky method for those in Hyrule. The wonders of fantasy, ladies and gentlemen! :D

Komari takes after Rito!Dal/Dallie in his chosen hobby and in Dallie's case, feather color. He loves reading and writing all kinds of stories and has a knack for making tales up on the fly, purely for the sake of entertainment. The idea of actually reading them to others, however... yeah he's not gonna do that just yet. Not to the adults, anyway; younger fledglings always find a way to convince him to read to them.

Hint: they know they art of puppy dog eyes XD

Between the two of them, Komari inherited the "special sight" that's passed down Dal/Dallie's family. What 'unseen' thing can he see? Magic trails. Most notably, the kind you leave behind when you turn invisible/teleport a short distance. If you leave a trail, Komari will be able to follow it until the magic itself fades from the area. Basically the magic equivalent of following someone's scent. He first discovered this ability while chasing some Blupees with his sister.

Lilac is the spitting image of her dear dad... in that she may very well be as stubborn as he is, but is much sweeter about it. Basically, she's stubborn for the sake of others rather than herself. You need some Rushrooms from those cliffs? She's on it. You need the Swift Violets too? No problem! A Moblin and a small band of Bokoblins are coming too close to the village? Give her a sword and she's going in! Tired? No, she's not tired, she's got this!

Hint: She's tired. Get her big bro or parents before she passes out, please.

While Komari is interested in the realm of fiction, Lilac is drawn to the realm of facts. In other words, she's a history nerd. The first history tidbit she ever learned was that her big bro's name comes from the name of an ancient Rito Prince. Learning about the prince turned to learning about the Sage that was once his dearest friend, whose name was the inspiration behind Vah Medoh, and... yeah she went to goddamn town on that subject. And if anyone's willing to listen, she could go on for what feels like hours. =w="

It's unknown if Lilac also inherited a form of "special sight" like her brother. But on the other wing, she's considered asking her dad to teach her how to use Revali's Gale. Rev's just waiting for those words to come out of either kids' beaks.

...Please. He's always wanted to teach his Gale to his own children. ;w;

#botw #loz botw #Rito #Komari Rathmore #Lilac Rathmore #only giving them last names so they don't get lost in tags of other peeps named komari and pics of lilacs =w= #also I mentioned Komari's older but not by how much: #he's a year older than Lilac #but once they're adults it's Lilac who ends up tallest XD #axewchaoscribbles

[prettysymbiosis]

risk e. rat’s pizza and amusement center

the awkwardly long name (read: it’s always sunny in philadelphia) - both character and show meta incoming and I feel like that’s the first hint of the latter

am I the only one who keeps thinking risk e. rat’s pizza is the pizza for you and me…

“they make kids feel like they’re the ones in charge” - so interesting coming from mac mcdonald. soon followed up by “they were the first set of boobs I ever saw since my mom’s” which ties right into the burgeoning mommy issue thread

at the end of the day it’s all part of the fun!

just the gang singin’ in the car :)

dennis “that’s not my name” reynolds

how have I just NEVER noticed that dee is left-handed???

the broken water fountain - does it mean anything? I’m too tired to figure it out I need my tumblr brain trust

maybe mac being clean-shaven this season is to make him seem more boyish? I have a new theory for this every episode

I think I saw someone else say this but I do think it’s fitting that charlie and dennis are together on the titties storyline because of their shared baggage around childhood sexuality, like no one else in the gang would really be able to relate to dennis here and if charlie is figuring his shit out with that then he'll definitely serve as a parallel for dennis having to figure it out too

I like how they represent three different eras of risk e.’s (frank, gang, present day) to really explore changing values and how things getting softer can be bad in some ways but good in others. this episode definitely feels in keeping with lethal weapon 7 as a very sunny way of critiquing sunny that feels satisfyingly self-aware but also fairly true to form which is a pretty fine line to walk, to give credit to rcg and the rest of the creators

also if you haven’t seen the john oliver piece on chuck e. cheese go watch it because it provides so much context and crazy true history of these types of places that was definitely in my mind while watching this episode

dee and frank paired up again, and in a childhood place, probably ties into the dee parent-issues thing I hope they’re building up to

each character really tells on themself about what fucked up stuff they’ve come to believe is acceptable or even enjoyable but should be questioned:

frank - violence and verbal abuse toward children and everyone; sexually harassing women with impunity; calling people the r-slur

dee - ethnic humor, not racist humor; making her explain how it’s funny and realizing it’s not; ecologically irresponsible plastic cheese that gets immediately thrown away; dimwit duck or whatever his name was; not understanding what satire really is!!! ← they really took one of their biggest critiques head on

here’s a question I have about dee’s character - she tries to justify her problematic sense of humor and every time frank points out the truth behind it, illustrating what’s really awful about it without really meaning to, and dee seems to genuinely recoil like she doesn’t like that. does she feel bad and react that way because she doesn’t want to do harmful things, or just because she doesn’t want to be perceived as being un-pc because that’s what’s uncool now? like remember when charlie said “I think I might’ve called an old lady a cunt this morning” and looked kind of aghast at himself? could dee be developing more of a conscience too and if so, what does that say about her? or is she just a vehicle for rcg to navel-gaze about the show? also remember in lw7 how mac was like “if you don’t praise me for being a good person then why am I doing it?” I lie awake at night wondering how much rcg want to be better people vs. how much they don’t want to be kicked even further down the hollywood totem pole for being yucky. please share thoughts if you have any

mac - simulating real-world violence to get it out of his system; shame - “if you got no shame, you’re never gonna hate yourself enough to stop being bad”

dennis and charlie - being unprotected growing up; that’s what the bone’s for! (there’s nothing like a glenn and charlie riff btw); is it wrong because she’s underage?

sunny is really amping up the inner child work for the gang, I mean arguably the gang have always been childish but this season I feel like they’re exploring it in a more comprehensive way like via the setting of this episode. and it ALSO works as a perfect commentary on the show and we love the layers

there’s no adults around…

“cause we need monster representation” we need some representation for those who are freaky and fucked up okay??

I wish I could remember who said it but someone suggested that the de-breastifying of justine has to do with dennis’ heteroness disappearing and that is a very fun take - I do think it says something that they’re fixated on a very abstracted version of sexuality via these almost disembodied tits that aren’t even human… like are we overcompensating for something gentlemen? can the characters and the show itself have any relationship to women that doesn’t objectify or otherwise dehumanize them?

I for one think sam is supposed to look like a young mac, I saw some people questioning why they cast that kid and this is my theory. this is important for both the inner child and possible child-rearing stuff they’re bringing in

“hey man, I’m a licensed psychotherapist–” “you’re a talking dog”

“guys I hate to admit it but this place sucks now”; “that’s crazy, this was like one of the best bars in town, man”; “they could redeem themselves in the show” all very meta

“you cannot call a place a website” hahaha

“so that these kids can have the same experience that we had when we were younger” fucked up childhoods, the cycle of trauma, but also the show being how it used to be

and of course, an attempted revival of all that leading to immediate disaster. let’s move forward, not backward :)

#man I've had a hell of a week. really not feeling emotionally ready for the finale lol #sunny #always sunny #iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #risk e. rat's pizza and amusement center #s16 #s16e6 #sunny meta #I didn't really like this one at first I felt like it didn't flow and was too self-conscious but it grew on me in the rewatch #still not a fave but it's both fun and has stuff to say so that's cool #I haven’t even watched bowling yet 😭 gonna go do that now god bless

[lookninjas]

Not that long ago, I made a comment about how I would finish a fic someday, and it looks like someday's already here! This is, granted, a rough first draft, and I did technically already get one of those done this year, but I'm not posting that one. I'm posting this one. For a few different reasons, actually, but mostly it just makes sense.

Anyway, this is a follow-up to Humdrum and Humble. If you've read that, this is Jonah giving Tish her funeral, with an expected/unexpected guest at his side. If you haven't read that one but want to read this one -- two aging time-travelers with a complicated history hold a funeral on a remote planet. That's really all you need to know.

It’s a beautiful landscape, anyway, all pinks and oranges and deep mauve in the distance.  He sits and watches the twin suns sink nearer the horizon, the little silver box clasped in his hands, and he listens to the sound of footsteps crunching closer, and he admires the landscape in a distant sort of way, and he tries to think of what he’s going to say when Tel finally gets to him.

As usual with Tel, he needn’t have bothered.  “Alright, Yon?” Tel asks, sinking down on the rocky outcrop next to him.

“Alright, Tel.”  That was always the good thing about Tel; it was always easy, because Tel always made it easy.  Even when they’d first met, when Tel was a sharp, scrawny, feral scrap of a thing.  He’d say “Alright?” and Jonah would say “Alright,” and it was just easy, the two of them.  Even from the start.

It’s Tel’s turn now to stare out obligingly into the middle distance, so Jonah can study him, clock the changes.  He’s not scrawny anymore, nor sharp.  He’s not even really that feral.  Time’s filled him out, softened his edges.  Domesticated him some.  Jonah’s been keeping tabs on Tel since they parted ways, but it’s different seeing it in person.  

But when Tel turns to give him that little half smile, his green eyes are as lovely as they ever were.  “Here,” he says, and holds out a tall green flask.  “It’s not tea, but I’ve gotten a bit of a taste for it over the years.  And it’s supposed to be restorative, so there you are.”  

“Do I really look that bad?” Jonah asks, and Tel scoffs.

“You know damn well you’re still gorgeous,” he says.  “You and those cheekbones.  Go on, take it.  I’ll watch her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  He nods at the silver box in Jonah’s hands and Jonah realizes he hadn’t worried about Tish at all.

Well, and he trusted Tel with his whole family once upon a time.  More than his family – his people.  A whole community in Tel’s hands, and he managed it brilliantly.  He can handle what’s left of Tish.  

And if that’s not really what Jonah’s handing over…  Well.

He trades the little silver box for the tall green flask, unscrews the lid of it, and takes a swallow.

It’s slightly warm, but not very.  That thin taste of synthetic milk, barely a step above water.  Toasted rice, because they put it in everything on the ship.  A little sweet, but not very much.  A hint of some kind of spice, but not enough to put a name on it.  The taste of deep space, of endless dark, of months to go before the next station.  

His mother’s voice, singing soft in their bunkroom.  His grandfather pulling a brush through his grandmother’s hair.  His grandmother pulling the covers up over him.  Family, even in the worst of times.  Home.  

He blinks away a few stray tears and takes another, more cautious, sip.

“Good?” Tel asks, like he hadn’t noticed a thing.  

Jonah clears his throat.  “Yeah,” he says, a little hoarse yet.  “Yeah.  It’s good.”

Tel nods.  “Wife says I make it better than she does,” he says, a little proud.  “Caused her some annoyance at first.  Of course, now she appreciates the convenience.  Warm milk whenever she needs it, and always to her liking.  Sometimes I think that’s her favorite thing about me.”

Jonah doubts that, but that’s also not his most pressing concern right now.  “Who’d you marry, then?” he asks.  

“Oh, Lehyla,” Tel says.  “Lehyla Osis, if you remember her.  She remembers you, a bit.  I didn’t,  you know, marry any of your cousins, if that’s what you’re worried about.  Nothing against your cousins, understand, but.”

He remembers Lehyla, a little.  Not terribly much.  For as small as the ship was, it feels he ought to have known her better.  But then no one knew him that much, either.  “Might be a bit weird, is all.”

“No, exactly,” Tel says.  “And then, obviously, I didn’t fall in love with one of your cousins, either.  But I dealt with Lehyla quite a bit, you know, when we were getting your people settled, and she was brilliant, and just –”  He turns his attention back to the landscape.  Fidgets a bit.  “And it was a bit awkward, but it was worth it.  And has been ever since.”

It could be the reddish glow of the lowering suns, but Jonah would swear Tel is blushing.  “And she taught you to make proper warm milk.”

“No, her aunt did,” Tel says, and laughs.  “Which was the worst bit, really, because we both learned from the same woman, so you’d think it’d be the same.  But she oversugars hers.  Not much, but enough to change the taste.”

“Easy enough to do, I guess,” Jonah says.  Which it would be, now.  With sugar just a transport ship away, enough to go around for everyone.  Easy to use too much, when you have enough.

“Apparently some of the younger folks are putting honey in theirs now,” Tel continues.  “Seeing as we have so much of it.  Supposed to be better for you, but it’s not the same.  Next you know, they’ll be putting real milk in.”

Jonah pulls a face at that.  “It’s too rich, though.  Bad for your stomach.”  

“No, I agree,” Tel says.  “But we’ve got goats and some cattle now, and if you’ve got a dairy cow and you keep bees – It’s what happens, planetside.  A hundred years from now, it’ll all be different.”  He pauses for a moment, goes back to staring into that middle distance.  “If it holds safe, of course.  If it holds peaceful.”

Jonah considers it.  Then, because he already knows the answer, he goes ahead and asks the question. “Do you want to know?  Where they are, in a hundred years?”

Tel laughs, a short sharp bark.  “No,” he says, immediately.  “No.  Not on your life.  Some things – Some things I think you have to let happen without you.  And if I knew, even if it was good, and not bad.  I just don’t think I’d ever be able to let go, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jonah says, and takes another drink of his warm milk.  “Yeah.  I know.”  

They’re quiet for a long time.  The twin red suns sink further into the horizon.  The distant cliffs catch fire.  No wonder even Tish was captured by this place.  It really is something else again.

“The thing is,” Tel says, finally.  “I sort of thought I’d be here to talk you into giving it up, you know?  But you’ve made your mind up, pretty much.”

Pretty much.  “It’s been a year,” Jonah says, acutely aware of how strange that is.  “More than, actually.  I have a house.  I have a garden, and I have my basement set up so I can grow tomatoes all year, because the winters are cold there.  Where I live.  I…  I know where I like to go running when the weather is fine.  I know where I like to go running when the weather is miserable and I need to be as close to home as possible so I can dry off quick.  I go to synagogue sometimes.  People recognize me there.  The girl…  When I go to get a cup of coffee, one of the girls that works there, if she sees me, she starts making my drink before I’ve even reached the counter.  It’s exactly what I hoped having a home would look like.  It’s more than that, actually.  

“And I’m still at pretty much,” he finishes.  “I’m still…  I shouldn’t still need to be deciding this.  Should I?  I mean – Look, as awful as it is to admit it, this whole thing with Tish –”  He gestures at the little silver box in Tel’s big hands.  “It really was the first time all year I felt remotely like I knew what I was doing.  You know, it felt right.  And then everything else just…  It’s been a whole year, Tel.”

Tel looks at him with the kindest eyes, and he looks at him like Jonah is the biggest idiot he’s ever met.  “You were a Time Agent for nearly forty years, Yon,” he says.  “Forty years!  Of course being a civilian is hard compared to that.  You’re barely started at it.  Also, please don’t tell me that this –” He holds up the silver box, shakes it slightly – “Is the first time someone’s tried to kill you this whole year.  The whole year?”

“I –”  All Jonah can think of to defend himself is, “It wasn’t on purpose!”  Which feels a little weak, if he’s being honest.  “No, I had – It’s not on a space-time rift exactly, but it’s definitely something of an interdimensional weak spot, you know.”  

“A soft place,” Tel suggests.

“Exactly.  And they have a team there that takes care of the worst of it, but they’re short-handed, of course, like you always are –”

“No, exactly.”

“And I’ve worked with them a few times and got on all right, you know, it was friendly, and I thought – I did think about that, that I’d need to keep some kind of a hand in so I didn’t go mad with boredom or anything.  Just –”  He breaks away from looking at Tel then, stares out at the red and purple landscape, tries to put the feeling into words.  

“You know, it was always a bit different for me,” he says.  “What I did with the Time Agency.  I wasn’t ingratiating myself with the locals trying to set up an assassination or anything.  I very rarely had a partner, and it always ended badly when they tried giving me one.  So it was pretty much just me, all the time.  For a long time.  I suppose I just didn’t know where to start if there wasn’t a good reason for them to already need me.  Then Tish came along and solved that problem for me.  Gave me a bunch of others, of course, but.”

They’re quiet together again, for a little while.  Tel shifts – when Jonah looks over at him, he sees that the silver box has been moved to Tel’s right hand, that his left hand is outstretched, waiting.  So he reaches out, feels Tel’s hand wrap around his, warm and dry.  

“I’m sorry,” Tel says, quiet.  

Jonah’s eyes sting at the words.  When he says, “Not your fault,” it’s only a little choked, though.

“Never said it was,” Tel retorts.  “I’m still sorry, Yon.  It’s a long time to be that lonely.”

His eyes sting more.  He swallows hard.  “I was always solitary, though,” he says.  “Ask Lehyla if you don’t believe me.  It –”  

Tel squeezes his hand, and he stops, takes a deep breath.  “It was worse, though,” he admits, finally.  “Those first few months, to be that close and yet completely incapable of taking that final step.  It was…  It was bad, yeah.  I think worse than it had ever been, actually.  Those first few months.”

Tel nods.  He rubs his thumb along the back of Jonah’s hand.  “Is it getting any better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Jonah says, because it is.  “And no.  Obviously, with Tish and all, I did get involved.  Didn’t much have a choice about it.  And that went well, you know.  I work well with their team, which I already knew, and they like having me around, and they’re happy to hear I’m staying.  And it’s…  It’s been a bit social with them, as well.  Drinks a few times.  There’s a local tradition they have – the Hallowe’en, they call it.  And they put on costumes and go door to door collecting sweets, and I got invited out to that, and it was good.  It was different, but good.”  

Surrounded by small children, Toby’s kid at his shoulder at each doorway, explaining it so casually.  Oh, they don’t have trick or treating where he’s from.  I wanted him to see what it was like.  And they’d look past Max and Jonah to where Toby stood, and they understood.  

Well.  I hope you’re enjoying yourself, they’d say, and he’d say

Very much, thank you, and he meant it, more or less.  Because Toby was enjoying it, and Max was enjoying it, and that was enough in the moment.

It was after, as always, that the doubt crept in.

“And I don’t –  Look, I’m aware of my place in the universe,” he says, turning to Tel, who is still watching him with those ridiculously pretty eyes.  “I know for all I’ve done, and as many enemies as I’ve made, I’m not the most dangerous thing anyone in that city has seen or will see.  There isn’t anything I bring with me that they won’t already have had to deal with.  Even the people at synagogue.  Even the girl at the coffee shop.  It’s how it is, those places.  But no one survives everything, Tel.  Not even Tish.”

Tel holds up the little silver box, contemplates it for a moment.  “You’re worried this isn’t the first funeral you’ll get to hold for someone you did your damndest to save.”

“I mean, it already isn’t,” Jonah says, and Tel smiles a bit, shakes his head.  “If I’m being honest, it’s not even the first time this year.”  That kid they’d lost at Pride, burning from the inside out right there on the grass because he took a pill he shouldn’t have and his friends didn’t know what to do after and Torchwood tried to get there in time and they just couldn’t.  

Tel’s hand tightens around his again.  “I’m so sorry, Yon.”

“I didn’t know that boy very well,” Jonah admits.  “He was dying when I got to him.  Sontaran Sunlight – his friends gave him water, because they didn’t know.  It wasn’t great odds, and I knew it from the start.  And again, mostly a stranger to me.  But the longer I’m there, the more people I know…”  He swallows hard.

“I’m afraid, Tel,” he says, finally.  “I’m afraid of what I’ll do the first time it really hurts.  I’m afraid –”

“You’re afraid you’ll run,” Tel finishes.  “Rather than see it through.”

And that’s the heart of it.  He doesn’t want to run.  He has, in fact, more to stay for than he’d dared to let himself hope.  But the thought that he will –

“You won’t, though,” Tel says, matter-of-factly.

“You think?”Jonah asks.

“I know.”  Tel shrugs.  “I know because you’re here right now, Yon.  Even though it hurts – and I don’t care how many times she tried to kill you, Yon, I know damn well how much you hate it ending here.  But you are here, with her, to the very end.  Just like you were with that boy, even though you didn’t know him.  Just like you always are.”

He has a point.  Jonah pushes back anyway, because it’s Tel and he can.  “Not always,” he says.

“Fine,” Tel says, without conceding anything.  “Just like you always are, except for the times when the Time Agency would be exceptionally interested in your presence at the funeral, particularly if I’d happened to be there at the same time.  Considering you were supposed to have killed me, and I was supposed to die, and neither of us were supposed to interfere in the matter of your family or your people as a whole.  Is that more accurate, Yon?”

It’s the precision that makes it cut so deep, and it’s the depth of the wound that makes him almost want to laugh it off.  “Maybe,” he says, and shakes his head.  “Maybe.”  

He sighs, stares out into the sunset.  “Were they that interested?” he asks.  “The Time Agency, I mean.  Would they have even –”

“Six agents at your grandfather’s funeral,” Tel says.  “At least.  That’s the ones my people spotted, anyway.  Six at your grandfather’s.  Five at your grandmother’s.  Two at your mum’s, which is weird, since the Agency no longer existed by then and therefore shouldn’t have been looking for either of us.  But there they were, anyway.  And again, those are the ones that weren’t smart enough to hide.  I imagine there were a few more that were.  We did what we had to, Yon.  We weren’t hiding from their funerals for fun.”

“Maybe,” is all he can think of to say, even though he knows Tel is right.  There’s a reason he’s never visited Tel, never gone to the settlement himself, never seen their homes, their new lives.  Never seen his grandfather’s garden.  This is the bargain he made to get them off the ship in the first place.  

“And I hate to say it,” Tel continues.  “But if I were to die before you –”

“Who said you were dying at all?” Jonah responds, instinctively, and Tel actually smiles at that, really smiles so that all the creases in his face show.  “I stopped you dying once.  I’ll do it again.”

“I’m not planning on it.”  The smile lingers a bit longer, starts to fade.  “I’ve got grandkids now, you know.  I’ve got –  I’ve got a great deal to look forward to.  I might even get out of politics finally, after four damn decades of trying.  But I also know that I’ve been lucky.  And I know that luck runs out.”  He sighs.  “And I know you’ll do what’s best without me needing to tell you, but…”

“But you’ve been taking care of them for too long, and you don’t know how to stop,” Jonah finishes.  

Tel just nods; Jonah squeezes his hand.

“So this,” Jonah says, his eyes starting to sting again.  The sun is beginning to set.  It’s time.  “Me and you, right now.  Probably too risky to do it again, yeah?”

“Well.”  Tel shrugs.  “It’s a bit risky, sure.  But you know.  You and me.  We lead risky lives, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” Jonah says, and blinks a tear or two out.  “Yeah, suppose we do.”

“I think something like this, maybe,” Tel continues.  “Neutral place, not too many prying eyes.  Could probably get away with that.  Even me visiting yours, maybe.  Since there’s rules about interfering too much on early 21st century Earth and all.”

Of course Tel’s known where he was all along.  Of course he has.  “And there’s not rules about the Chancellor of Aestii IV traveling through time and space whenever he has a fancy to?” he asks, because Tel’s not the only one who can know things.

“Not so many as you’d think, no,” Tel says.  Only a little smug about it.  “‘Course they haven’t caught me at it yet.  I imagine that’ll get changed if they ever do.”

If.  Jonah shakes his head.  “And I don’t want to know how many times you’ve done this,” he says.  “Or how exactly you’re doing it in the first place, since I took your vortex manipulator myself.”

“I do a lot of favors for a lot of people,” Tel says.  Which half of the question that’s meant to be an answer to goes unsaid.  Probably both.  “Also, not to rush you or anything, but those suns are beginning to set.”

He lets of Jonah’s hand then, holds out the little silver box.  It’s exactly what Jonah came for, but in the moment, he hesitates.

“Out of curiosity,” Tel says, when the moment’s stretched on too long.  “Why here, exactly?  Why not just keep her on your mantel or something?  Find her a pretty place on Earth?”

“No, Tish hated Earth,” Jonah says.  “Absolutely despised it.  She despised most places, actually.  At least according to her.  This is the only place she ever had a kind word for.  Said the sunset were particularly lovely.  Which she wasn’t wrong about.”

They contemplate the colors of the sunset in silence for a few seconds.  Then Jonah finally reaches out and takes the silver box from Tel’s hand.  He opens it, pulls out the little plastic sack of Tish’s ashes, gives the box back.

He stands, takes a few careful steps towards the cliff’s edge.

“All right, Tish,” he says, finally.  “I’ll stop bothering you now.  Good luck out there.”  And he untwists the plastic bag, opens it, and lets her ashes fall over the side of the mountain.  A light breeze comes up, sweeps the dust of her away.

And that’s it.  Funny, how fast it ends.  

“Well.”  Tel’s hand closes around his again, tugs him back from the edge of the mountain.  “Suppose we’d better start heading down again before it gets too dark.  Old eyes don’t see as well as they once did.”

Tel hates heights.  Jonah’d forgotten that, with all the years that came between them.  He’s been up here the whole time anyway.  “Probably,” he says, and lets himself be pulled back to safer ground.  “Here, let me get your thermos.”

He crouches down, picks up the tall green flask and the little silver box under Tel’s watchful gaze.  The box he tucks into his trouser pocket; the flask he returns to Tel, who slips it into his shoulder bag.  “Tel,” he says, before he loses his nerve.  He waits for Tel to look back at him before he says, “Thank you.”

Tel smiles again, that beautiful smile of his.  Then he holds a hand out.  Jonah takes it.  

“So I was thinking,” he says, as they set off back down the mountain.  “Since we’re already living dangerously.  Drinks, maybe?  I do know a few good spots, fairly discreet.  Not too much trouble.  Most of the time.”

Jonah laughs.  “So when I told you that I’d only had one person try to kill me this year,” he says.  “Did you take that as a personal challenge, or –”

“I mean, I can think of a few places where we’re more likely to get into a fight, if you’d like,” Tel says, and Jonah laughs again, and knows that at least for tonight, he’ll go anywhere Tel wants.  

And what happens tomorrow will happen tomorrow.

#fic #my fic #writing #might or might not put this on ao3 #might give it that polish pass first who knows #might do a little bit with jonah and amilyn after this before i go back to the nightmares in subarchive c #still want to get that one done though #but it's done! i'm posting! hurrah!