#canon says shes 16 but fuck that

[insertive-not-assertive]

scions of the miami freehold

#namaah is probly taller than this but. well shes already almost out of frame #shes the youngest tho shes 19 #canon says shes 16 but fuck that #maria is 21 bc she acts like a 21yo #and im still 23 #i dont think wed be friends but id make sure to make us allies #all the old changelings r fighting doesnt mean we have to #docart #maria and i are dressed 4 the boardwalk and namaah is not lol #the university is a pocket of autumn #i feel a little sad that we dont have a winter changeling our age to even it out. i might make one #i dunno how well jeremiah sleet would appreciate having someone whos second in line to him #but i think the idea is funny so ill think about it #between me and maria the warmth is probably overpowering actually. #i liked dressing them up!!!! i thought their outfits were a little plain. i wanna draw them in nice outfits soon #changeling the lost #ctl

[luciality]

yall love to talk about arthur as a teen dad but you arent ready for teen mom alice.

#shut up luci #i on the other hand am ready #i am constantly bouncing between 16 and pregnant looking #immaculate conception lel or else she just decides to adopt this baby she found which yes is more canon but also not as funny #as immaculate conception of nations NO SHE DID NOT FUCK ANYONE ITS JUST LIKE THE VIRGIN MARY AND PROOF OF HER BEING DIVINE #hm anyway i think amelia has a human father. jk amelia doesnt have a father bc alice is a virgin just like mary thats how nations work wink #she strugles ok but i love her for trying. she tries so hard she wants her bbygrl to be comfortable #she inflicts all the motherly wounds imaginable but its ok i forgive her and amelia can get over it #anyway she drinks while preggy and thats why amelia is like that. #ok i have a lot more to say but im shutting up now

[autism-corner]

mc but theyre a ghost. not bc of any 'lesson 16' stuff but bc its fun

#i wanna be a ghost so bad #you wouldnt even know what things i think about regarding ghosts... #;) #i need to stfu #i really need to think about it when my brain isnt goo #=w=bb #i actually have an oc whose a ghost and made a whole ruleset about my canon devildom ghosts or whatnot #but she (oc) is 16 and did have to do with lesson 16 (i just fucking realized that 16 & 16 omg) and its more about IDK i need to properly.. #...make a post about her someday #lets just say she cant fulfil my ghosting needs =w=b #shes not a siIly goofy type (which is ideal for ghosting) so... #anyway yay i like ghosts i think theyre cool and hot #sillyposting #heheeh okay 16 is her actual name its bc after she died memory got foggy and 13 was the first person she saw and she looked up to her.. #...a lot so she took her age and made that her name so they have matching number names =w=bb #=w=bbb

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in 

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

#poll #finals #sakura haruno #naruto #misa amane #misa misa #death note

[incorrectbatfam]

Types of obnoxious batfam stans

Written by an obnoxious batfam stan

Not really a rant but something I've noticed over the years interacting in different spaces and I've decided to make your problem now.

Please note that I'm not saying there's any "right" way to be a fan because we all suck by virtue of being comic nerds, but there are certain kinds of batfamily fans that stick out to be in particular.

Anywho, here are 12 kinds of annoying batfam stans that you've probably run into and you better get a laugh out of it *points gun to your head*.

1) The Newbies Who Never Heard of Google

There's no shame in being new to something. It's a phase that we're all guaranteed to go through, whether we're 11 or 101. However, in this day and age, so many things can be easily googled that you don't need to shout every question you have into the VVorld VVide VVoid. If you need comic recs or a reading list, google it. If you wanna know a character's origin story, google it. If you need to know the color of Batman's underpants in a particular issue in 1965... well that's probably too specific for Google but Reddit will definitely have an answer.

2) The Middle School Authors

Before the 13-year-olds get up in my notes, I'm not saying everyone that age writes like this. Middle school is a state of mind. These fanfic writers usually stand out in a few ways.

They're oftentimes first-person POV or reader-insert. Give Y/N a break, she's tired.

The grammar is stunningly atrocious. I get if you're inexperienced or if you're writing in a second language, but we are in the prime era of autocorrect. If you need help, it's right there. Also, fuck c*nsoring b*d w*rds and fuck "unalive."

The characters do things that are out-of-character because the author is projecting their own personality. Bruce Wayne is a lot of things but he does not listen to the fucking Mountain Goats.

There's a lack of experience or research when it comes to certain topics. That's not how physics works. He can't walk that injury off. And that's definitely NOT how you do the horizontal hokey pokey.

3) The Neckbeards

Unfortunately, these basement-dwelling mouth-breathers tainted the image of what a comic fan is, though that's been changing recently. Still, we've all seen them. They gatekeep via pop quizzes, 'cause obviously you're not a real fan unless you know what page 10 of Batman #138 smells like. They give unsolicited commentary on people's cosplays, nitpicking the guys and being gross toward women. And heaven forbid the comics add a little diversity.

4) The Moviegoers

Nothing inherently wrong with getting into the fandom via the movies, nor is there anything wrong with sticking to that. I just feel like we're two different species of Galapagos finches, you know?

5) The Christopher Nolans

Separate from casual fans of the Nolan movies. I'm calling them the Christopher Nolans because these people have a tendency to reach for the grimdarkest thing possible. It's like they cannot fathom Batman having any other emotions besides punching and gargoyle brooding.

6) The Canon Purists

Wanna share a fun headcanon? NO, because Stephanie Brown never used cherry lip balm in the comics so therefore that must be the absolute truth. These people are a stickler for comic accuracy to the point where it's like... why bother interacting with the fandom in the first place? The worst part is when they're adamant on following a single continuity and refuse to consider anything else. This is comics we're talking about. Everything either has been or will be canon at some point.

7) The Fanon Worshippers

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the people who base their entire perception of the characters on something either they pulled out of their ass or that their mutual with 16 followers came up with, despite evidence directly contradicting it. I love WFA, but I feel like that's partially responsible for further perpetuating certain popular myths. Also, these fans tend to focus solely on the batfam/their ships. It's one thing to have some people in the foreground vs. background, but put some respect to Bart Allen's name you goddamn cheesecakes.

8) The Golden Age Dads

These guys aren't really obnoxious. I actually find it kind of cute how they think Jason Todd is still dead.

9) The Chronically Online

I have a rule of thumb when it comes to discourse: if it's not something I'd hear about at a bar, it's not worth my mental energy. Some people haven't gotten the memo, though.

These are either the well-intentioned but misinformed teenagers or grown-ass adults beefing with children because they don't have a life. They have takes that are oversimplified, rage-inducing, TikTok algorithm attention-grabbers that no one cares about in real life.

Don't get me wrong, we've got a bunch of issues in comics and fandom that are worth discussing. However, there comes a point where you're splitting hairs and need to go the fuck outside. I'm not gonna link the post 'cause I don't wanna call them and their 7 notes out, but the other week I saw someone saying Stephcass was a racist ship because something something colonialism parallel. You gotta be Elastigirl to have that kind of reach.

10) The Corporate Simps

I love comics. I appreciate the writers and artists. However, you will find my carcass in a ditch before you catch me licking the boots of DC/Warner Bros. Basically, these fans, fewer as they are, can't seem to fathom that their favorite franchise can (and does) put out some steaming motherfucking garbage.

11) The Hot Cosplayers

Not actually annoyed, I'm just a little jealous. Stop being hotter than me, please and thank you.

12) The One With A Punchline For Everything

Wait–

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #kate kane #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #dc fandom #comics #comic books #fandom #fandom culture #discourse #personal #tw swearing #long post

[the-turtleduck-pond]

I keep seeing so much Hunger Games stuff and then I see people calling district 4 a career district and it always makes me get a little confused because yes it is and no it isn't at the same time and I'm not sure why no one else ever seems to go into that intricacy.

People like to use Finnick as a reason that 4 is oh so definitely a career district, but he is in fact the very reason why it is not actually one. Annie is actually another why they're not and Mags is the most like a career.

The career districts are the ones who have all the capital funding and support. They can literally train their kids to fight so they almost always win and if they don't it's because the other district kids somehow got a one up on them that wasn't expected.

Careers are also the ones who volunteer for their spot to the point where there's literally so many just about to be out of the Reaping children who are ready to fight.

4 is at best an honorary career district because they are always well fed and their export requires them to have a decent amount of strength, both from swimming and needing to move things.

Except 4 doesn't have dozens of people clambering for their spot if someone who won't do good gets pulled.

Like 14 year old Finnick who won his games because he was pretty. That is not me choosing to say that remember, this is canonical. Finnick got sent a trident, the most expensive sponsor gift ever, because they thought he was pretty and wanted him to do better. So he weaved nets out of vines and then caught other tributes before killing them because he couldn't do close combat.

Annie was I think either 16 or 17 and she was far from a career, she won her games on sheer luck. Her entire plan in the games was to hide. And she did. She hid and she was okay until she saw her district partner get fucking decapitated. She hid more after that until an earthquake that the Game Makers caused broke a dam in the arena. That's right. She won because someone fucked up and the arena fucking flooded and she was the only remaining tribute with any real strength in swimming. So she managed to survive and was traumatized.

Also, don't forget that in the 74th games that the male tribute from district 4 was a 12 year old. That wasn't a career and he died in the initial bloodbath.

The only one we see that was even potentially close to a career was Mags and we have no clue how she won her game. Just that she won the 11th and that she was 18 at the time.

Calling them 'careers' is laughable and even though Katniss herself does you need to remember that she is an unreliable narrator, especially about other districts.

4 is only a career district when it suits 1 and 2.

#the hunger games

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Peeta as the smallest of 3 brothers definitely had to resort to dirty plays like biting in his youth.

First off, you're right and you should say it. Second off, Peeta being the youngest is 1000% a dynamic in his relationship with Katniss once they start to recover.

No bc listen. I was the youngest of three siblings and while we never got into physical fights I learned QUICK how to use my mouth to win what battles couldn't be fought physically because my siblings would 100% go to jail for trying to rock a 3 y/os shit. So Peeta was running his mouth religiously around the household. Can't tell me otherwise. "If it weren't for the baby??" Girl, he was biting AND flappin his lips. 100% would get pinned to the ground by his brothers and be like "wow I feel bad for your girlfriend" before getting his shit rocked. He'll offer them tips inbetween punches. "Aim for the throat. Wow, you're still pathetic."

Second, Katniss is the eldest, Peeta is the youngest in their families. Once they're more secure in their relationship, Peeta is 100% causing fun! problems 24/7. She's stressed the fuck out she's gonna come home one day from hunting again and half the house is repainted with all of the furniture just shoved into one big pile away from the drying walls like "WHY DID YOU DO THIS??" "bored :))" because he's so dangerously intelligent, I'm thoroughly convinced he's a practical fucking moron. He probably had to create his own entertainment as a child, he's used to being ignored. If he gets an idea to rearrange the furniture, he just does it. Katniss and Haymitch both have to intervene with how much this happens because Katniss complained about it to Effie once, and Effie started rambling about this thing called "feng-shui," and now Peeta is completely obsessed and will spend several hours to the point of obsession planning with Effie not just his decor, but literally fucking everyones, and Katniss tried to warn Haymitch "Hey, we need to fucking stop this," and Haymitch just said "get out of my house." But now Haymitch is too sober to deal with the constantly changing furniture, and why is this idiot painting his ceiling, and can you please pick up a hobby that doesn't involve majorly changing the layout of our houses? Peeta says no. Katniss instead comes home to Peeta having several geese chasing him at Haymitchs training. He's been waiting for an excuse to reveal this.

She stops feeling bad for needing his constant comfort once he starts biting her out of boredom. Oh, come on. You can see it. He would absolutely look at her arm one night and go "you look nice :))" before taking a giant fucking bite that makes her question every decision she made from age 16-18. There's a solid minute where they just sit in their bed at a standstill. She's holding her book in shock, he's just frozen still biting her. She says "What the fuck" he says "nostalgia :))" to which she's further confused and slightly terrified. She learns how to duck. He learns how to lure her in easier. Post-canon angst + comfort is cute, give me chaotic Peeta torturing his wife who just wants five minutes of peace but secretly adores her dangerously clever idiot of a husband

Imagine when they have kids. That woman is gonna go from "peetas baby!" To "your child."

He likes tossing the motherfuckers in the air. He's the kinda dad who will take off RUNNING with the shopping cart, shove the thing as far away as he can and just wave "bye bye! :))" to the baby inside of the cart that's laughing wildly while Katniss is just chasing this fucking thing down through the store like it's the quarter quell all over again and everyone else is just watching like "Jesus Christ he's doing it again." It gets worse when Peeta collaborates his children with the attacking geese to use against Haymitch when he tries to prevent him from repainting his ceiling again.

#peeta mellark #peeta and katniss #everlark #peeniss #the hunger games katniss #the hunger games peeta #peeta thg #thg peeta #thg #thg series #post canon #post mockingjay #catching fire #mockingjay #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #thg katniss #the hunger games trilogy #the hunger games #josh hutcherson #jhutch #jhutch1992 #ask #hunger games #josh hutcherson fanfic #peeta #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: Carry You Home

Plot: Ellie and Y/n do their best to save a wounded Joel and survive on their own.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, language, blood, injuries, hunting, reference to smut

A/N: Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy…these chapters suck to write for 2 reasons…1: D*vid. 2: We’re getting so close to the end that I want to cry 😫 I’m going to miss this show so much!!

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range isn’t in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I hope y’all enjoy this blend of fluff and angst and laughter. I’m going to try to get 14 out on Sunday, but no promises. Read on!

——————

“Protect him.”

Tess’ dying words had echoed through Y/n’s mind more times than she could count. The sentiment had travelled with her across the county, an ever-present passenger on their journey.

And now they were haunting her.

Ellie and Y/n had managed to get Joel into the basement of an abandoned house, laying him down on an old, dank mattress. Unfortunately, he had woken up by then and was feeling the full force of his wound.

“I know, I know,” Y/n tried to soothe him as he screamed, bent over his abdomen. The tourniquet had done a subpar job at stopping the bleeding. If it had been a river, now it was a stream. “Hold still,” she looked to Ellie, “Press down on the wound. Hard.”

Ellie had found an old towel in the kitchen upstairs and tore off a strand.

“Squeeze,” Y/n instructed Joel, who was already squirming in pain, “Hard as you need.”

Joel had lost enough blood for the world around him to spin, the only things in focus were Ellie and Y/n’s faces.

Y/n nodded to Ellie, who pressed down on Joel’s wound, causing him to choke on his own breath. His hand shot out, reaching for Y/n’s arm and crushing it in his grip. She turned her face downwards to hide the grimace of pain.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ellie cursed as Joel writhed beneath her hands.

“Keep going,” Y/n ordered, blindly reaching a hand out to push Joel’s shoulder into the mattress, “Honey, c’mon, I need you to work with us.”

Joel winced, digging his head back into the bed. Out of all the injuries he’d sustained over the years, this was the worst. Not just because of the searing pain stabbing through him, but because it was the one that was going to take him out.

He was dying, and neither Y/n nor Ellie could stop it.

“Leave.”

They both ignored the word.

“Leave,” Joel strained through it again.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Y/n stated, watching Ellie’s hands, “He’s gonna say some weird shit.”

“Go,” he continued.

“Shut up, Joel,” Ellie’s breaths quickened in quiet panic.

“Take the gun-“

“Joel, shut the fuck up,” she yelled.

“Ellie,” Y/n said forcefully, the girl’s hands were slipping. She pushed them off and held the rag down on Joel’s wound.

With a last surge of strength, Joel reached out and grabbed Ellie by the collar, yanking her to face him.

“You go,” Joel whispered, “You go. You go north. Y/n-“

Y/n shook her head, shutting out the reality of their dire situation. “Stop,” she said without looking up.

Joel was undeterred, “You go to Tommy.”

“Stop,” Y/n gritted out, her hands hanging over his stomach with no plan of action. She wasn’t even sure what there was to be done. At best, she was only stalling Joel’s death by a few precious minutes.

When she finally dared to look up, her gaze fell on Ellie, whose eyes were misting as she stared down at Joel. He shoved Ellie back, releasing her from the burden of caring, and let his arm fall at his side.

Joel managed to turn his head, letting his eyes wash over the woman he loved, had never stopped loving. Kneeling over him and covered in his blood, he thought back to how she’d looked the night they’d first met. Her eyes untouched by cynicism, her laugh deflecting no hidden pain, her smile striking him like lightning and giving him a new pursuit in life; to bring enough joy to her life that her lips were forever turned up.

Now he was going to break her heart. Again.

He thought of their last night together, spent cradling each other’s bodies underneath the sheets in Jackson. How his skin had remembered the feel of hers the moment they touched, how his lips had recalled the roads they used to travel across her like he would an old hometown street. Though bathed in the tears of their sins and all they had lost, he had been reborn at the first kiss. He had a standing reservation in hell, but he could go knowing he’d felt the touch of an angel.

“Rose…” Joel strained out, the word tasted like sweetness.

The four letters burned in Y/n’s ears, sending a new wave of fear through her. “No,” she finally looked to Joel, “This isn’t how it happens.”

“Rosebud,” he pushed with a surprising calm to his tone.

“Joel, no,” Y/n fought to keep her sobs down, “This is not how it happens. It’s not.”

Joel’s hand shakily slid up her arm, needing to feel her as he told her, “I love you.”

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, the strength of her grip on the towel faltering as she forced them open to look at Joel. Despite his impending death, there was a peace that filled in the lines of his face, one that only graced those who were on their way out.

“No,” Y/n whined, her voice unable to carry further than the distance between them. She reached up to stroke his hair, taking his cheek in her other hand, “This isn’t how I want to hear it, Joel. Please.”

Once he’d said it, he couldn’t stop. He was making up for twenty years in twenty seconds. “I love you. I love you…” Joel drew a shallow breath, “You go. You take her,” his stare gripped her, nearly choking the will out of her, “Go.”

For as prominent as Joel’s abandonment had been in her life, Y/n had done her fair share of leaving. She had left Sarah’s body, at least it had felt like leaving, when they’d sought shelter in the triage clinic. She had left her parents, panicked at what she had done, in the spots where she’d taken their lives. She had left Tess to die the worst way a person could, even if she was only following orders. Her life had been one abandoning after the other, and now she was being asked to abandon the love of her life.

In her haze, Y/n hadn’t even remembered Ellie was there. It wasn’t until she felt Joel’s thick coat being slipped over his body that she realized the girl was making her choice. She would decide, for once in their time together, to heed Joel’s words. And as her boots slapped against the stairs, she was also making Y/n’s choice.

Unable to force the words she felt like a sweet sickness inside her soul, she dissolved into tears, pressing her forehead to Joel’s. She didn’t think even if they’d had twenty years ahead of them that she’d have ever found to words to describe the depth of her love for Joel Miller. It stretched two decades of euphorias and tragedies. It was stronger than her hate or his violence. It was forgiveness and redemption and all-encompassing in its triumph over the worst of their persons.

Y/n sniffled, nudging Joel’s nose with her wet one and letting her mouth hover over his as if she could breathe life back into him. Joel took it, letting his eyes fall shut and savoring the the last of her lips he’d ever feel.

Joel had spent twenty years trying to detach from who he’d been, his old skin a constant reminder of all that he’d almost had. Y/n had spent twenty years trying to find her way back to her humanity, desperate to redeem herself. Without ever knowing it, they had been running back to each another, one step at a time.

Protect him.

Perhaps Y/n had only kept her promise to Tess in the beginning out of obligation. But now, now the words were as true as if they’d come out of her own mouth.

Joel had left her once.

She’d be damned if it happened again.

Y/n broke from Joel’s lips, rushing to her feet and bolting for the stairs.

From Joel’s point of view, it was the last he’d ever see of her. There was a duality that Cordyceps had forced on anyone who prioritized survival over anything else. Joel had meant every word with the force he’d said it, he wanted Y/n and Ellie safe. But he also knew he was dying, something that, despite all he’d wished over the years, he wasn’t ready to do yet. He had Ellie, this beautiful, unexpected gift of a child, who depended on him as if she was his own. And now he had Y/n, the miracle that he’d let slip through his fingers, returning to him with the same perfect timing she’d first appeared to him. He wanted to stay, to cherish and protect them like the man they made him feel he could be again. And if that wasn’t in the cards for him, he at least wanted to hold their hands as he faded out.

As Joel watched Y/n head up the stairs, he let a single tear fall down his face. He’d had one last night, one last kiss, and one last ‘I love you.’ It wasn’t a lifetime, but it would have to be enough.

When Y/n got to the stairs, Ellie was nowhere to be found. Was she already saddling the horses? Was it that easy for her to let Joel die?

“Ellie,” she called through her tears, bursting through the door, “Ell-“

The girl rushed past her, one step ahead, raiding cabinets and drawers.

Y/n felt herself breathing for the first time in an hour.

“What do we look for?” Ellie hurriedly asked.

“Something,” Y/n flung a empty cabinet door open, “Anything. We need to get the wound closed up.”

They searched high and low, in every room, until they met in the kitchen. Ellie dove for a set of drawers while Y/n scoured more cabinets.

“It won’t open,” Ellie groaned, pulling against the handle.

Y/n ran over, squeezing her hands next to Ellie’s and tugging with her. “Pull,” she breathed, the two of them shifted all their weight backwards.

The drawer’s internal mechanism released, the momentum they’d built throwing Ellie and Y/n to the ground. The contents were scattered from the drop.

“There’s nothing here,” Y/n panted, on the verge of frustrated tears.

“W-wait,” Ellie breathed, her hand sliding across the linoleum floor to grab something. She held up a rusted needle and thread to Y/n.

“Yes,” Y/n gasped, she took the supplies into her shaking palms. She wished she hadn’t used the last of her own days before, but they could make do with what they had, “Yes, this’ll work.”

Stumbling to their feet, they ran back through the door and down the steps, bringing salvation with them.

Joel was trying, trying to hold the rag to his wound, hoping it made his death a little less painful, but his strength was fading. His whole body shook with shivers, even his lips trembled from the cruel mixture of shock and the cold. He could feel himself slipping away, so much so that he was convinced the thudding footsteps he heard were hallucinations.

Y/n and Ellie kneeled down on either side of him, their faces illuminated by the last bit of light peeking through the clouded basement window. His saviors.

Ellie threw Joel’s coat off of him, catching her breath as she reached for his hand.

Y/n leaned down, interlocking her fingers with his other hand and brushing the hair from his face. She pressed a determined kiss to his clammy forehead, willing him to stay alive a little bit longer.

Joel would never admit to them just how much he’d wanted them to stay. He summoned what was left of his strength and tried to squeeze both of their hands, letting them squeeze back. They were going to fight this, and they were going to do it together.

Ellie reached for the towel and peeled the cloth off Joel’s wound. The bleeding had slowed, but was far from stopping. They had to move fast.

In the midst of their panic, Joel softly reached for Ellie’s cheek, pulling back halfway when he lost his strength. It was a moment none of them noticed in their mad rush.

“Honey,” Y/n began, pressing one more kiss to Joel’s skin, “We gotta get it closed up. It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker,” she moved Joel’s hands to grab her forearms, “So you fuckin’ squeeze, and try to stay still for us. Okay?”

Ellie quickly thread the needle and tied a knot. Y/n wished she could spare her the pain of having to stitch Joel up, but Y/n was the only one who’d be able to hold him down and keep him relatively calm.

“Keep going,” Y/n directed Ellie, “I’m gonna try to keep him still, but you don’t stop, even if he moves.”

Ellie nodded, apologetically seeking Joel’s eyes one last time before turning to his abdomen.

Y/n put both her hands to Joel’s shoulders, bracing herself for what was to come.

“Go,” she said,

Joel let out a sickening groan as Ellie thread the needle, the pain giving him strength enough to squeeze Y/n’s arms so tight, she couldn’t help but wince. In his daze, he could sense he was hurting her, but couldn’t fight past that which his own body was bringing him.

Tears sprung to Y/n’s eyes as she forced Joel down into the mattress, taking the searing heat in her shoulder as a good thing. It meant Joel still had enough fight inside him to push through.

“I know, I know, I know, I know,” she muttered as Joel threw his head to the side, trying to hide his grimaces from Ellie, “I know, honey. Just hang on.”

Joel’s vision was going dark around the edges, the pain dulling all his senses. The only thing strong enough to cut through was Y/n’s voice.

“I’m here,” Y/n assured Joel, his eyes fluttering but fighting to look at her, “I’m here. I got you.”

“It’s stopping,” Ellie announced, still hard at work.

Y/n wasn’t able to sigh in relief yet, Joel had finally lost the battle and had slipped into unconsciousness. She’d expected it, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t still filled with dread.

It only took Ellie a few more minutes to finish sewing Joel’s wound, Y/n helping her to tie a clumsy knot at the end. They dabbed and tried to clean the blood off him as best they could before laying his shirts back down. When they were done, they slid off their ankles and onto the concrete, watching the rise and fall of Joel’s chest.

“Is he…” Ellie began before realizing it was a stupid question.

Y/n was fighting off the same thought, wondering if their efforts would be enough, or if it was a losing battle.

“I hope so,” she whispered, it didn’t matter to her if fate was calling Joel Miller home. She would rage against it regardless.

The next hour was spent waiting and watching. Ellie, eventually, went upstairs and collected their backpacks.

Y/n kneeled above Joel’s head, her hands resting over each of his ears. She combed her fingers through the ends of his hair, not trying to wake him or soothe him further into sleep, but simply providing what little comfort she could to both of them.

Ellie clunked down the stairs with their packs and sleeping bags, depositing them on the floor. She had spent the last three months watching Joel and Y/n fight, and the last week watching them drift back together. This was new. She hadn’t seem them vulnerable, on the verge of losing one another when they’d finally found some sort of peace. She didn’t have twenty years of experience, but she understood why Y/n was hunched over, cradling the man, who didn’t even know she was there.

Ellie settled against the wall, working up the courage to speak. “How’d you guys meet?”

It was perhaps the only thing said in the moment to make Y/n smile. “At a bar,” she answered, remembering the night like it had just passed, “A guy hit on me, couldn’t take the hint that I wasn’t interested…Joel threw a punch, Tommy threw the next…” she nearly laughed, “Then they threw him out.”

“So…he’s always been like that,” Ellie commented.

Y/n soothed a thumb over Joel’s cheek, the skin was so pale it almost brought on a fresh batch of tears. Or maybe it was the reminder that they’d once lived in a world where violence wasn’t a necessary evil. Where Joel’s laugh was an every day occurrence. When he kissed her as if it was the last time he ever would, with the end nowhere in sight.

“No,” she whispered over the lump in her throat, “He wasn’t.”

Ellie sensed she was getting to close to shattering what was left of Y/n, and she couldn’t do that. She needed one person left to look to, to hold her hand through these impossible problems. She rubbed her hands together anxiously, nearly choking on the words she wanted to say.

“Riley.”

Y/n dragged her eyes away from Joel to look up at Ellie, “What?”

Ellie drew a shaky breath, “Riley. She was my…she was my friend,” she rubbed her knuckles together, “She got infected and…”

All of Y/n’s longing told her to stay with Joel, not to move from her spot, no matter what. But her duty was to both him and Ellie, and she knew where she was needed at the moment. She inched her hands off of Joel’s head and crawled over to Ellie, coming to sit next to her against the wall.

“I knew Riley,” Y/n admitted, hugging a knee to her chest.

Ellie’s eyes widened, “You did?”

Y/n nodded, “She only joined a few weeks before…” she trailed off. Marlene had been the one to find them, Y/n had been back at base. But she’d met Riley, had even tried to take her under her wing before the fatal night at the mall. “She was fucking fearless,” Y/n shifted gears, “And fun.”

“Did she ever mention me?” Ellie asked after a beat of silence.

“No,” Y/n replied, looking over her arm to Ellie’s expectant stare, “I think she wanted to keep you safe,” she cracked a smile, “Bloodthirsty demons that we are.”

Ellie’s lips turned up the slightest bit, but they fell just as quick. It was one of the first times she had allowed herself to grieve her best friend, and there was something about the setting that made it all hurt worse. Across from her, Joel lay on the brink of death. To her side, Y/n was sitting with her in worry and in comfort. The last two people on the planet that she loved.

Y/n’s maternal instincts caught the change in Ellie’s demeanor just before she broke. She slipped an arm around her shoulders as the first tears fell, Ellie willingly sliding into Y/n’s side and curling her face into her body. It was the first time Ellie had allowed anyone, apart from Riley on that dreadful night, see her fall apart, and Y/n didn’t take it lightly. She pressed a kiss to the top of the young girl’s head, reminding herself that the journey had started out the two of them, and if even if tragedy intervened, it would end with the two of them.

—————————

Deep into the night, Y/n stayed awake, telling Ellie she’d press on until morning. The girl needed a break from the world.

Joel stirred a few times, letting out a moan or blindly reaching to clutch his wound. Y/n was there each time, holding his hand and soothing him back to sleep. Around what Y/n guessed was 3AM, he stopped slipping in and out and just stayed out. His ragged breaths, creating a steady rhythm in his stomach, were the only thing reassuring Y/n that he was still alive.

While Ellie was awake, Y/n held it together as best she could. But under the cover of dark, she allowed herself to fall apart, her fear for Joel’s life swallowing her whole.

“Do you remember that trip we took to the beach?” Y/n whispered, hanging over Joel’s head, stroking a hand over his hair as her other one cupped his cheek, “For our anniversary? Sarah’s graduation?”

In her weaker moments over the years, Y/n had drifted back to the memory. It was the last time she could remember feeling truly free and yet it was also the first time she remembered feeling tied down. Stuck in the space between Sarah’s dad’s girlfriend and a parent, between Joel’s love of one year and his potential wife. She wanted them both back; the liberation and the duty.

“Remember that night?” Y/n asked Joel’s unconscious form, she’d always wondered how she could recall the exact feel of the hotel sheets. The exact trail of her skin Joel’s lips had traveled. Which of his t-shirts she’d been wearing. “I made you promise that…” Y/n trailed off, bristling, “It sounds so fucking stupid now.”

“No matter how much I hated you,” Y/n slid her thumb against Joel’s cheek, “I couldn’t hate you enough to stop loving you. I tried, my g-“ Y/n chuckled softly, “I tried so fucking hard. Couldn’t do it.”

Her tears were building now, the more she exposed, the more the threat of loss became real.

“I waited twenty years, Joel,” she whispered, her throat tightening up on her, “Twenty fucking years, not knowing if you were dead or still hanging on. And then I got you back,” she sobbed once with nostalgic joy, “I got you back. And I can’t lose you before I get to love you again.”

Y/n lowered her head, dropping her lips to Joel’s ear, her voice barely audible, “Because I do. I love you. I love you so much it…” she bit back a cry, not wanting to wake Ellie, “It fucking hurts. You can’t just…you can’t just come back to me and then leave. You can’t do that to me. To Ellie.”

“I need you to fight,” Y/n begged, tears freely flowing down her cheeks, “I need you to fight so fucking hard, you need me to carry you the whole way to Utah, and I will. I’ll do it. I just need you there.”

Y/n choked on her sobs, digging her forehead into the mattress and letting them shake her. All her losses in life had been so sudden, she’d never had to watch a life hang, the pendulum swinging between a second chance and death. It was tearing her apart.

She wiped the snot and tears away on her jacket sleeve, the same sleeve that was painted with Joel’s dried blood. She leaned back over Joel, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his forehead. Y/n had heard stories of miracles, of voices at hospital bedsides being the thing to bring people back from death’s edge. She’d lost faith in that sort of thing after the loss of her family, but in the throes of worry, nothing was off the table. She’d stay up all night, telling Joel how much she loved him, if there was even a chance it would reach him.

—————————

For two days, Ellie and Y/n kept watch as best they could. With no medicine, there was little they could do to help Joel’s, now infected, wound.

Y/n finished up feeding snow to the horses, moving robotically from the garage to the basement. She hadn’t gotten more than maybe two hours each day. It didn’t feel right to rest when Joel was clinging to life.

She came downstairs to see Ellie kneeled next to Joel, placing one of their last pieces of rations on his chest.

“He wouldn’t want you doing that,” Y/n said softly.

Ellie sniffed away the cold air, “Yeah, well…”

If the terrible series of events was doing anything, it was showing how deeply they cared about each other.

“I’m going to go out real quick,” Y/n announced, heading to pick up her rifle, “Try and find us something to eat.”

“I’m coming with you,” Ellie jumped to her feet.

“No, you’re not,” Y/n replied, “You’re gonna stay here and watch him.”

“I can’t fucking do anything for him here,” the girl gestured down to Joel’s body, “If I can hunt something then…”

Y/n already knew what she was trying to say, she was desperate to feel in control of something. Hunting was a great way to make you feel like you had some power over the world.

“Okay,” Y/n sighed, “Twenty minutes.”

Ellie moved across the room to grab Joel’s rifle while Y/n crouched down and kissed his forehead.

“We’ll be back soon.”

The two of them filed up the stairs, both of their hearts unsettled at leaving without Joel. It was one thing to see someone with no fighting skills or survival techniques be taken down, but to see someone like Joel battling for their life was a quick way to make someone feel entirely exposed. And Y/n could feel the full weight of the responsibility they’d shouldered together the last three months.

Y/n drew her rifle into postition as her and Ellie exited through the front door, Ellie struck a similar stance. They moved down the driveway into the street, scanning for footprints in the snow that didn’t exist. They’d made the right decision to hide in the abandoned neighborhood.

Ellie and Y/n made their way to the forest, trudging through the snow and huffing patterns into the cold air.

“Remember what Joel taught you,” Y/n instructed, keeping her voice low to not spook any animals, “Regardless of what your instincts tell you, pull slow.”

Ellie’s eyes were already drifting ahead, having spotted a white rabbit thirty feet away from them. She glanced over to Y/n, who nodded for her to go ahead. Y/n felt better keeping her gun aimed at the space around them anyway.

Just as Ellie was setting herself up, the rabbit ran off. Ellie took off charging the way it had run.

“Ellie,” Y/n gritted, the worst thing to do when tracking an animal was to chase it.

Ellie tripped on a branch, falling face first into the snow.

Y/n came over and extended a hand to the girl, pulling her up to her feet. “Word of advice…if an animal’s running, you don’t go after it and make more noise.”

“Yeah,” Ellie exhaled, wiping the snow from her face, “I got that.”

“Come on,” Y/n hitched her rifle back over her shoulder, “Ten more minutes.”

The two of them walked a little further, eventually hearing a clicking noise that sent them both reaching for their guns.

Ellie hit Y/n’s arm, guiding her attention to a patch of trees providing shelter to a full-grown deer. Y/n gestured for her to take the nearest log and the shot. It felt like a good idea to keep Ellie as distracted as she could and maybe give her a much needed victory.

Heeding all of Joel and Y/n’s advice, Ellie lined up the shot perfectly and-

BANG!

The deer wailed, limping away into the depth of the forest.

“No fucking way,” Ellie muttered.

“Come on,” Y/n pulled her free hand and the two of them sprinted off after it.

There are certain moments in life that, with hindsight, stick out as forks in the road. If Person A hadn’t have made it to Point A, then Person B wouldn’t have found them and both their lives, good or bad, would be forever altered because they didn’t meet.

Y/n and Ellie couldn’t have known what they were running straight towards.

They tracked the blood trail of the deer 1/4 of a mile before hearing two male voices. Y/n threw her arm out, catching Ellie and holding a finger up to her lips. The two of them drew their rifles and very carefully stepped around the snowbank. Sure enough, there were two men standing over their now dead deer.

Y/n inhaled to speak.

“Don’t! Drop your rifles! Now!” Ellie yelled.

The two men carefully removed their guns from their backs, the taller of them keeping one eye on Ellie and Y/n.

“Turn around,” Y/n ordered, her gun locked on the tall man, while Ellie took the shorter one.

“Any sudden moves,” Ellie threatened, deepening her voice to make her words more convincing, “I put one right between your eyes. Ditto for buddy boy.”

Internally, Y/n grimaced. Ellie was going to get them killed with a poor imitation of Joel.

“You two are quite the hunters,” the shorter man said, his hands held in the air, “We didn’t even hear you coming.”

“Flattered,” Y/n replied, unimpressed, “But this is where you two walk away with your asses still attached and we take what’s ours.”

“Okay,” the man said, making no effort to move.

“Just go!” Ellie impatiently yelled.

“A-all I ask is ten minutes of your time,” the man continued.

“Did you not get that that was a warning?” Y/n muttered, extending her foot ever so slightly to make it look like she was taking a step closer.

“Please,” the man didn’t budge at her non-verbal threat, “Just ten seconds. My name is David. This is my friend, James. We’re from a larger group: women, children, and we’re all…very, very hungry.”

“We’re from a large group too,” Ellie lied, drafting the lie quickly in her head, “Also hungry.”

David sighed, “Well, even so…” he gestured to the deer, “Ya can’t drag this back just the two of you.”

“We’re fine,” Y/n finished the conversation. The world was dead, yet somehow misogyny was still alive and well…

“We’re not asking for charity,” David clarified, “W-we can trade you for some of the deer. What do you need? We have…boots-“

Ellie’s rifle lowered ever so slightly, her voice coming back to its childlike pitch, “Medicine? Like, for infections.”

“We do,” David replied, surprised they’d hit on something so fast, “Back in our village. You’re welcome to follow us.”

“Yeah,” Y/n wasn’t so quick to believe that it was just that simple, “That’s not happening.”

Ellie picked up her gun-slinging persona again, “Buddy boy can go get it. He comes back, you get half the deer. Anyone else shows up, I put-“

“Put one right between my eyes,” David finished for her.

“That’s right,” Ellie finished, sensing that at some point, she should have let Y/n take over the talking.

David turned to James, leaving his hands hanging in the air, “Alright, go talk to Howard. He’s got a case with some penicillin. Bring back two bottles and a syringe.”

James looked stunned at David’s request, as if killing the two women was the obvious option.

“It’s not code, James,” David added, “Do as I said.”

Y/n’s rifle remained trained on James, waiting for him to make the right move. The man kept his eyes on her the whole time till he could safely jog back into the forest.

“Ten steps back,” Ellie ordered David, her and Y/n marched the man backwards, “Keep going.”

Once he was past the deer, Ellie kneeled down to pick up David’s rifle, unloaded the cartridges while Y/n kept her aim fixed on him.

“That your dad’s gun?” David asked, “He the one who’s sick? That’s why you two are out here on your own?”

“This is not a Starbucks,” Y/n bit out, “We are not chatting over a latte. All you need to know is that one wrong move, and your village goes hungry a hell of a lot longer.”

The words hurt Y/n as she let them fly, she didn’t feel cut out for Joel’s intimidation tactics.

“Well, look, uh,” David looked behind them to an old cabin, “It’s a four mile round trip back to our settlement. It’s gonna be…a while before James gets back. I have some oil and matches in my pack, we could,” he gestured to the cabin once more, “Take shelter. Start a fire.”

It wasn’t the most obscene idea, Y/n thought. She didn’t plan on lowering her gun at any point, and if Ellie and her were going to make the trip back carrying half a deer with them, they needed to save the strength the cold was stealing from them.

“You bring him with us,” Y/n decided, nodding towards the deer.

David nodded back, a smile on his lips that Y/n couldn’t decode. She just knew she’d seen the same expression on the wrong kind of men before.

—————————

David tended to the fire he’d started in the middle of the cabin’s living room, sitting back down and warming his hands. Ellie and Y/n sat across from him, rifles aimed and ready to silence him.

“You know, you two really shouldn’t be out here on your own,” David said, his voice soft and concerned.

“Says the man with two rounds pointed at him,” Y/n remarked.

David shrugged, “Fair enough. So what’re your names?”

Ellie frowned, shaking her head in reply.

“It’s hard to trust strangers, I know,” David stated, “But I honestly mean you no harm. And for what it’s worth,” he opened his hands, “There’s room for you two in our group, if you want.”

“You’re inviting us to join your Hunger Club?” Ellie retorted, “Thanks.”

“It’s true, we’re hungry,” David admitted, “But we’re still here. I’m a decent man, just tryna take care of the people who rely on me.”

Y/n gave a nonchalant shrug, “Okay, so you’re the leader of a ragtag group of survivors. That’s nothing special.”

“Wasn’t my choice, it was theirs, but” David replied, “Yes.”

“They “chose” to follow you?” Ellie replied, “Is this some weird cult thing?”

One half of David’s mouth quirked up, “Uh, well, you sorta kinda got me there, I am a preacher, but just pretty standard Bible stuff.”

Ellie smiled to herself and glanced up at Y/n, who had already tuned out of the whole topic.

David looked between the women, “What?”

“The whole world ended, and you still believe that shit,” Ellie replied.

“I actually started believing after the world ended,” David corrected the girl, “Before that, I was a teacher. Math. Taught kids about your age.”

“So you went from teacher to preacher because, what? It fuckin’ rhymes?” Ellie fired back at the man.

David nearly laughed, “Yeah, exactly.”

Ellie smiled, just a little bit, keeping her aim on David but loosening it. He didn’t seem like much of a threat to her. Y/n, being older and having seen a lot more shit, was less convinced.

“But seriously,” Ellie prompted him to continue his story.

“Well, I found God…after the apocalypse,” David told them, watching Ellie more than Y/n, “Which is either the best time or the worst time to find Him, hard to say. But when the Pittsburgh QZ fell in ‘17, Fireflies and FEDRA…I left with a few others, and th-that’s how I ended up with our flock.”

“This is a long fucking way from Pittsburgh,” Y/n replied, perhaps it would have been a comment coming out of anyone else’s mouth, but it was an accusation from hers. There was something about him she didn’t trust.

David chuckled, “Yeah, we’d settle somewhere and then raiders would come, so we’d move again. And as we wandered, we picked up new people along the way until…” he glanced around him, “We ended up here.”

“Well, your luck had to run out sooner or later,” Ellie commented, the choice of words wasn’t lost on her or Y/n.

“Hm? Luck?” David rearranged his face the way some pastors did before jumping in the pulpit, “There’s no such thing as luck. No, I-I-I believe everything happens for a reason.”

Ellie and Y/n both shared a restrained smile, dodging the attempted sermon like it was a bullet.

“It does,” David insisted, grinning back at them, “I can prove it to you.”

“Okay,” Ellie agreed to his attempt.

David sighed, settling into his makeshift seat a little deeper. “We didn’t expect this winter to be so cruel. Nothing’ll grow. Game’s been hard to find. So I sent four of our people to a nearby town to-to scavenge what they could and only three of ‘em came back. And the one that didn’t was a father. He had a daughter just like you,” David pointed to Ellie, “And her dad was taken from her.”

Y/n slowly connected the dots, one step behind David but ten ahead of Ellie.

“Turns out…he was murdered,” David continued, “By this crazy man. And get this, that crazy man…was traveling with a little girl and a woman.”

Y/n was up on her feet, eye peering through the viewfinder, instantly.

“You see?” David smiled unsettlingly at Ellie, “Everything happens for a reason. James, lower the gun.”

Ellie spun around on her heels, both her and Y/n finding James returned, his handgun aimed straight at Ellie. They switched positions, Y/n’s weapon trained on James and Ellie’s on David.

“She is the one that killed Alec, isn’t she?” James asked.

“She didn’t kill anybody, neither of ‘em did,” David corrected, “Lower the gun.”

James and Y/n squared off, Y/n’s breath hanging on the edge of her lungs, just waiting to pull the trigger and release. Reluctantly, James lowered his pistol.

“Did you bring the medicine?” David asked his friend.

“Yeah, but-“

“Throw it to them.”

James hesitated, “David…”

Y/n’s back was turned to the preacher, but his silence indicated his seriousness. James reached into his pocket and tossed the small package at Y/n and Ellie’s feet.

“Back up,” Y/n said from between her teeth.

James did as requested, moving away from the medicine. Y/n moved closer to the man, letting him stare down the barrel of her gun while Ellie grabbed their trade.

“I know you’re not with a group,” David called, his voice creepily calm, “You won’t survive for long out there. I can protect you.”

They didn’t need to hear any more. Y/n fell behind Ellie, keeping her gun trained on the two men while the girl made a run for it. She thought to shoot them, be done with the whole thing and ensure their safe getaway. Except David had talked too much about his position in their town, they’d have twenty people after then instead of two. It was easy math.

As soon as she was certain David and James wouldn’t pick up their weapons, Y/n bolted into the forest after Ellie.

—————————

They made it back to the house, sweaty and out of breath.

Y/n shoved Ellie through the front door, fearfully scanning the street once before shutting and locking the door. When she got in, Ellie was already making for the basement, where Y/n followed her to.

“Are they gonna find us?” Ellie panted, sprinting down the stairs.

“I hope not,” Y/n replied, wishing she could give her more assurance they were safe.

Joel had barely moved since they’d left, his head having lolled to the right a little. Y/n knelt down at his shoulder, picking up a piece of rag to wipe the sweat from his brow. His body was working overtime to beat the infection.

“How the fuck do I do this?” Ellie loaded the syringe with the first bottle of penicillin.

“You put it either in the wound or around it,” Y/n instructed, an invisible question mark appearing at the end, “I don’t know, I’ve never dealt with a wound like this.”

Ellie considered her options, rolling Joel’s bloody shirt back and getting a good look at the gash. “Fuck it,” she muttered, just before inserting the needle in the middle of his wound.

Joel’s breathing quickened, his abdomen clenched a few times at the sensation, breaking through his unconsciousness. Y/n was there, pressing a kiss to his slick forehead, ready to hold him down if he woke.

“Okay,” Ellie said under her breath as she extracted the needle.

“Good job,” Y/n reassured her, “Penicillin’s fast acting. He should start to improve.”

“H-how do you know that?” Ellie asked, placing a worried hand on Joel’s forehead to test his fever.

The truth was, Y/n didn’t know anything. She was floating on a life raft in the middle of the ocean, adrift from any and all sense of safety. But she wanted to take solace in medicine, in the science of twenty years ago that a little dosage could stitch the body back together. She was choosing to believe.

“I don’t,” Y/n replied honestly, stroking Joel’s hair and peering up at Ellie, “But I have to have faith in something.”

“What, like the guy who wants to kill us?”

Y/n nearly bristled, “No, not exactly. I don’t believe everything happens for a fucking reason,” she looked back down at Joel, her lips quirking upwards briefly, “But some things…some things, definitely. And I don’t believe that we’d go through all the hell we have just to lose now…”

Ellie sighed, nervously rubbing her hands together as she watched Y/n tend to Joel. It came so easy to her guardian, to care for both her and the man who had abandoned her. Ellie’s walls remained so sky high, she wished that she could simply surrender to the warmth in her heart without fearing it as weakness.

She walked around to the other side of the mattress, sinking down onto its edge and laying down next to Joel. She carefully placed her hand on his chest and rested her head on his broad shoulder.

Y/n knew it was difficult for Ellie to open up, that the connection they’d formed back in Boston was like some eclipse that only came every hundred years. She’d watched Ellie slowly peel away at Joel’s defenses, until it was impossible for either to deny they cared about one another. Y/n wished desperately that Joel was awake to return the gesture, to encourage her vulnerability.

There wasn’t enough room on the mattress for all three of them, and Y/n didn’t dare ask Ellie to move an inch. Instead, she brought Joel’s hand up to his chest and laced her fingers through his. She rested her forehead just above his heart, the soft thudding against her skin filling her body with hope that he’d keep fighting. That he wouldn’t leave them.

Joel, slipping in and out of consciousness, wasn’t aware of much going on around him. But somewhere in his slumber, he could sense the warmth that was wrapped around him. He wasn’t chasing any white light, calling him home, but he chased the heat, leaning his head into it. He knew he was safe, so long as he could feel the warmth.

—————————

But there was no improvement the next day.

Joel’s wound had stopped bleeding, but his fever had yet to break.

Y/n knelt over Joel’s abdomen, sucking the second dose of penicillin into the syringe and injecting it. He didn’t so much as make a sound, that worried her.

Ellie sat on the edge of the bed and watched, waiting for some miraculous transformation to occur that would make Joel shoot straight up and return to his normal, grumpy self. If Y/n was honest with herself, her sleep-deprived mind was also waiting on something similar.

“Thought you said it was fast acting,” Ellie remarked, more bitter with the medication than Y/n.

“It is,” she answered, she was fucking exhausted, “But it’s not magic. He took a fucking…” Y/n let her hand fall against her lap, “Whatever it was. That doesn’t heal overnight.”

They didn’t want to say what they were both thinking.

“Come on,” Y/n sighed, rising to her feet with a groan, “Let’s go serve breakfast.”

The two of them filed out the garage, Y/n going to lift the squeaky door and Ellie carrying out a bucket. They gathered handfuls of the freshly fallen snow and brought it back to their horses, it was all they could offer them.

Y/n looked out on the neighborhood, her fingers nearly twitching in anticipation. They’d left tracks on their way back from the woods. If David decided to come after them, it might not be hard to find them. Then again, if he was a preacher, he could have subscribed to the believe that God might exact some sort of revenge on them rather than dirty his own hands.

“What are you thinking about?” Ellie asked, coming to stand by her side.

Y/n sighed, not wanting to consider dying any more. “How tired I am of fuckin’ snow.”

“You and me both,” Ellie remarked.

Without another word, Ellie leaned her head against Y/n’s shoulder. Y/n interlocked her fingers with the young girl’s and they stood in silence, drawing strength from one another.

A flock of crows cawing, flying away from something, broke their peace.

“Get back inside,” Y/n ordered, stepping into the street and following the direction the birds had fled from.

“No fuckin’ way,” Ellie argued, chasing after Y/n. It was wasted breath, telling her not to do something.

Y/n led them through a line of trees, staying low as they walked along a wooden fence. Through the shrubbery and snow, Y/n could spot several bodies a few hundred feet away and the tips of the rifles they carried.

David.

Neither of them dared to say a word, Y/n pushing Ellie backwards and hurriedly sneaking them back across the street to the house. They ran into the garage, quickly and quietly shutting the door behind them, before bolting through down to the basement.

“We gotta draw them away,” Ellie said, on the same wavelength as Y/n, “If they’re after him.”

“We ride back towards the university,” Y/n finished the thought, if there was a fight to be had, that was the best battleground.

Ellie slid across the basement’s floor, smacking Joel’s chest and shaking him by the arm, earning a gasp in return.

“Joel,” she urged, “Joel, wake up.”

“Joel,” Y/n called, she was already grabbing her rifle, “Joel, come on. Wake up!”

“He’s not fucking moving,” Ellie panicked, running off to her backpack.

Y/n took her place, grabbing Joel’s face in her hand, “Joel, I need you to fucking wake up. We need you. Now.”

Everything hit Joel’s ears as if he was underwater, three layers of sea between him and the words. The familiar voices were speaking urgently, in desperate tones. He found the strength to open his eyes, two tiny slits offering him a blurry view of Y/n.

“Keep them open, Joel,” Y/n urged, “Keep them open for me,”

Ellie returned with Joel’s knife, placing it in the hand across his chest, “Okay, okay, look at me. There are men coming, okay? We’re gonna lead them away from you, but if anybody makes it down here, you fuckin’ kill them. You got it?”

Joel’s eyes were beginning to glaze over again.

“Joel,” Y/n slapped his cheeks a few times, feeling him slipping from them, “Do not fall asleep right now. Stay the fuck awake.”

In the end, there was nothing else her or Ellie could do. David was coming and they had to act fast.

Y/n pressed a final, urgent kiss to Joel’s brow, before leaping to her feet with Ellie, praying that he was weakened rather than dead when they returned.

“We gotta block him in,” Y/n said as her and Ellie ran up the stairs, “Grab the china cabinet.”

The two of them maneuvered the hutch in front of the basement door, blockading the entrance as best they could. They ran out to the garage, quickly saddling both their horses and shoving the door back open.

“You ride in front of me the whole time,” Y/n ordered as she mounted her horse, “And if I go down, you don’t stop. You ride back to Tommy, got it?”

Ellie was ready to argue to the death on the point, “I-“

“You ride back to Tommy,” Y/n repeated, feeling the weight of what she was telling Ellie to do. It was the same one Joel had felt two days before.

Ellie rode out first, with Y/n bringing up her rear. She had her pistol off its holster and the rifle across her back, ready to do whatever necessary to keep Ellie and Joel alive.

They rode out the backyard, cutting past a few houses before coming out on the end of the street David and his men were creeping down.

“Hey, motherfuckers!” Ellie yelled just before her and Y/n began to fire. Ellie was shooting to warn, Y/n was shooting to kill.

As soon as the first bullets flew, making the men jump, Y/n and Ellie galloped off the same way they’d come from the university. Ellie listened and stayed ahead of Y/n as they rode. With each foot they gained, a new surge of determination flooded them both that they could make it. Y/n rotated on her horse and prepared to take another shot-

BANG! BANG!

One well timed bullet to Ellie’s horse sent the girl flying, landing harshly in the snow. The horse’s failed body tripped Y/n’s animal, she clutched the reins as she was thrown off, rolling into the snow as her spooked horse ran off.

“I got ‘em,” one of the men yelled.

“El,” Y/n grunted, belly crawling to Ellie, who managed to roll over onto her back. She was in a daze from the fall.

Y/n reached back for her rifle, scrambling to her feet as the crunch of boots began to surround her. She raised her gun at the first set of men, firing one bullet through one of their legs and sending him to the ground. She wasn’t quick enough to swing behind her and avoid the butt of one of their guns being driven into her head.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” the man muttered as Y/n fell.

It was a battle to stay awake through the dizziness, but Y/n managed to get to her knees, shielding the men from getting any closer to Ellie.

“Do it,” the same man who’d clubbed Y/n decided.

Even though they were her last moments, they didn’t feel like it to Y/n. She reached beside her to grab her pistol and cocked it. After twenty years of fighting, she wasn’t about to stop just because death and her were face to face. Not for Joel and certainly not for Ellie.

A shot fired into the air stopped the situation from escalating any further.

David came forward, standing over Y/n and Ellie. He cocked his head towards two of his men before Y/n, his disciples each grabbing one of Y/n’s arms and dragging her back.

“No,” she screamed, kicking wildly as David kneeled down beside Ellie and reached down to take her pulse, “Don’t you fucking touch her!”

David glanced up at Y/n, nearly amused by how aggravated she was. He removed his hand from Ellie, holding it up where she could see it. “Two of you with me,” he ordered, “Drag the horse,” he moved to pick Ellie up.

With all her strength, Y/n slammed her boot down onto one of her captor’s feet, causing his grip to loosen in the agony. She freed her arm and punched the second man at his temple, making him stumble backwards. “No!”

Y/n marched forwards, shoving David’s hands off of Ellie’s body, “She’s my fuckin’ kid.”

David watched every move, thoroughly evaluating the woman in front of him. He removed his hands and stood to his feet slowly, adhering to her demand.

Y/n brushed the loose strands of Ellie’s hair off her wet face, the sight of her unconscious nearly incapacitating Y/n with fear.

“The rest of you go door to door,” David continued his orders, “You so hungry for vengeance? Deliver it.”

Y/n’s head had barely turned before she caught herself. It was better for them to think Joel was up and about and that she had nothing to worry about. Internally, she felt fear spread to the very tips of her fingers.

David began to lead the way as Y/n lifted Ellie into her arms, beginning the two mile hike back to David’s community. She didn’t know what fate they were being marched towards, but she knew one thing.

She’d burn down the whole fucking town before she let anything happen to Ellie.

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us spoilers #twenty years later

[rubberduckyrye]

Okay DRV3 Fans Let's Talk about Canon Ages.

Because I woke up and my brain connected the dots, and because some of you are fucking weird about High-school students. So let's clear the air here--and let's just say they're probably over 18 years old.

In my Gonta rant (which yes I'm linking here, go read it) I call him a young adult. Some people are under the impression (like that anon I got last night) that the V3 cast is canonly 16 or younger due to... whatever the fuck reason. But! I am here to argue a counter point--that the V3 Cast is actually much older and are more college age than young highschoolers.

First of all, let's remember the fact that in all DR games, the cast has gone to high school for some amount of years before their memories are wiped. V3 Also has this feature, and it is within the canon story that these kids remember attending HPA.

Now whether or not you believe this to be true is irrelevant right now because I need you to remember that the backstory for these characters was that they were being hunted down by the Ultimate Hunt, which means they were Ultimate Students at HPA first. Then they had their memories wiped to go into hiding. Yada yada.

The important part actually comes from Kirumi, however. Kirumi is the character that proves that the V3 cast is older than 18 years old.

Remember this tidbit--where Kirumi was the maid of the Prime Minister? Well, when do you think she became the maid for the Prime Minister, do you think?

I have an answer for you.

This is the dialogue from Kaito's "My Future" cutscene from DR:S. The "My Future" Cutscenes take place at the end of the run with the character chosen, and DR:S takes place right at the end of their 3rd year of attending HPA.

Kirumi doesn't specify who she will be working for, but considering that this person is such a big deal what she felt the need to consult Kaito about it, to help her sort out her feelings, I think we can all agree this is heavily referencing V3's plot where she is the Prime Minister's Maid.

This means that Kirumi only took the job as the Prime Minister's Maid at the very end of high school.

That means that by the time V3 runs around, she's well out of high school.

Now you can argue that V3 and DR:S aren't in the same canon--and you'd be right! I would never consider them to be canon to one another. However, this scene shows that in DRV3 and in DR:S, the intention for Kirumi to have been the Prime Minister's maid started at the very tail end of her time in high school. Same character, same backstory, different situation.

Meaning by that logic, Kirumi--as well as her other classmates--are over 18 years old in V3.

They are young adults.

#Kirumi Tojo #Gonta Gokuhara #Shuichi Saihara #Kaede Akamatsu #Kokichi Ouma #korekiyo shinguji #Tsumugi Shirogane #Kaito Momota #Tenko Chabashira #Himiko Yumeno #Rantaro Amami #Miu Iruma #K1-B0 #Maki Harukawa #Ryoma Hoshi #Angie Yonaga #Danganronpa V3 #new danganronpa v3 killing harmony #DRV3

[queers-gambit]

Now and at the Hour of His Death

prompt: any who say, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," were never loved by him.

pairing: Osferth x female!pregnant!wife!reader

fandom: The Last Kingdom

word count: 6.1k+

note: fuck you, Netflix.

warnings: you already know - author needs therapy, projects hard, pregnant wife, Lord’s name in vain, Christianity (obviously), and a fuck ton of fucking ANGST because fuck your feelings. hurt NO comfort, drama, oneshot, cursing, canon-typical violence, injury, and blood. character death and spoilers - yeah, i'm giving you THAT scene. requires maturity and caution. good luck.

also please note: NO, i do not age Osferth to be 16 - that's just a reference age for when he eventually runs away from the monastery.

again, you are missing nothing if this upsets or triggers you and you choose to skip. value your wellbeing, my angels. author is not responsible for the media YOU choose consume, but still, as usual, MDNI

"You should not be doing this sort of work," Ingrith's voice scolded you, and when you turned, you saw the blonde woman standing with her hip cocked and a stern expression. "It's bad for your health to be in such filth, we've stable boys for this sort of chore."

"I do not mind," you sniffled in the brisk air, shoveling the horse shit of the stable into a muck bucket to be dumped into the fields later. "It keeps me busy," you grunted lightly, sure to bend your knees when lifting the pitchfork, "keeps me humble," you listed, dumping the waste to grin at your friend, "and keeps me young."

"In what way?"

"Reminds me of my childhood," you eased, continuing your work. "I slept in a stable from the ages of 4 to... Oh, shit, I guess I was about 16 before I left The Loft."

"What?" She breathed in confusion. "Never knew that."

"Yeah, yeah, true story," you beamed at her, still shoveling shit. "I slept in the stalls with the horses, sometimes in the grain rooms - basically anywhere I could since my work didn't include official room and board, so, I had to make do with what was available. Then, one day when I was about ten, Old Man Rivers said I could use the hay loft if I cleared it out, fixed the rotten planks. Stayed up there till I was about 16, and after that, I kinda ran away."

"Old Man Rivers?"

You nodded, "My mother lived on his homestead, but she was real sick, you see. So, he kinda took me in without assuming responsibility for me," you cleared your throat, shrugging, "let me stay in his barn if I worked with the horses and livestock for him."

"Why would you want to be reminded of that?"

"Seems simpler when I look back."

Ingrith sighed, "C'mon, put the pitchfork down. Come help me prepare the rabbits. The scouts say the men aren't too far off, they'll want a hot meal."

You chuckled with ease and set your pitchfork aside, giving a hearty pat to one of the horse's necks as you passed by to exit the stable. Ingrith made sure you washed up before you were both mounting rabbits on the rack to start skinning them.

"Could I ask something?" She wondered after a time.

"Anything you'd like."

"Why'd you run away? From Old Man Rivers?"

You laughed, "I was in love."

"Oh, you and Baby Monk go that far back, huh?"

"Try even farther," you teased. "Our mothers were friends, and when I worked in the stable, he was in the monastery, but when he came to me, saying he couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't let him go alone. Life was supposed to offer more than what we were given, so, we set out to find the legendary barbarian, The Dane Slayer," you teased, both giggling, "our Lord, the legendary, Uhtred of Bebbanburg."

"And all this time...?" She smiled, watching you shuck hide like you've done it your whole life. Ingrith inferred you probably did.

"Yeah," you eased, "all this time, he's been by my side. Kept me close, never left me behind. The others weren't too sure about me on account of being a woman, they told us to piss off a few times - but they came around after Osferth refused to send me away."

"He's a good lad, Osferth," she nodded.

"Arguably one of the best ones," you agreed, nudging her arm gently, "but look who I'm telling, right?"

"Oh!" She giggled, swatting at you loosely before going back to your work for a moment. Suddenly, the townspeople of Rumcofa stirred to life, and over the voices, you heard them announcing their Lord's return - which meant all of your men were home. You both grinned and breathlessly left your post, Ingrith pausing a young lad to ask, "How many return to us?"

"Does it matter? Come, c'mon, let us see ourselves!" You all but squealed, overwhelmed with excitment; eager for your own reunion with the man you've loved since you were a young lass.

"Warn the alehouse!" Finan was heard shouting. "Osferth's thirsty!"

"Jesus," you laughed, dodging around the procession of people waiting to greet their warriors on their return home so you could approach the white gelding your husband rode.

His face was absolutely priceless when he caught sight of you. As Osferth eagerly dismounted, your hands smoothed over the small swell of your belly - purposefully wearing a dress that accentuated your ever-changing figure. "Am I dreaming?" He laughed, a stablehand taking hold of his horse so his hands were free to caress your belly. "Oh, my God, I'm not, 's real, oh, God," he beamed, laughing with you. "You're pregnant? Truly? Yes? I-I am not - I am not being deceived?"

"No, my love, I guess our prayers were finally heard."

"OH-HOOOO!" You heard Finan holler as Osferth finally pulled you in for a sweet kiss; both ignoring the Irishman. "Lord! LORD! Uhtred! Hey! Did you hear!? Baby Monk's got some spunk in 'im afta all!"

"Oh, God," you laughed against Osferth's lips, but he was quick to shush you with another breath-stealing kiss.

"A baby Baby Monk! AHA!" Finan was still laughing, your husband's hands caressing both your cheeks when he pulled back just in time for Finan to descend. You grunted lightly when his heavy arms dropped over both yours and Osferth's shoulders, his laugh still booming as he gave a squeeze and cooed, "Oh, congratulations, yah two love birds! Wasn't sure you had it innyah, boy!"

"Don't be so rough with her, Finan, for God's sake," Osferth scolded, nudging his friend to get out from under his arm.

"What?" Finan looked at you gobsmacked. "Sayin' I gotta treat yah different now or somethin'?"

"I didn't say that," you told him prettily with fluttering lashes, fist quickly balling up to jab him in the weak spot of his armor - making him grunt and wheeze. "Aht-aht!" You warned with a pointed finger when he flinched as if to retaliate, "Can't hit a pregnant woman."

"Oh, yeh li'l shite," Finan laughed, Osferth pushing him towards his wife so he could stand in front of you and command all attention.

Osferth took a moment to simply look at you; thumbs gently tracing over your cheeks in sweeping motions, a slow grin breaking across his lips. "This almost doesn't feel real... But how I have to praise God for this blessing. A baby," he breathed.

"A little you and me," you agreed softly. "Sound okay to you?"

"More than okay," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "sounds like a lifetime together."

"Good by me." His nose nuzzled up yours, the sweet moment broken when he sighed sadly; eyes shut and smile dropping. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" You asked, stepping into his embrace so you were nuzzled into his neck and his arms were wrapped around your form in a vice.

"Uhtred means to move us again," he whispered in your ear. "Brida, she... She's got Father Pyrlig, and - "

"What!?" You snapped, rearing back slightly to pin him under your hardened glare. Pregnancy hormones would surely give Osferth whiplash.

"My love, I did not - "

"Brida's got Pyrlig? Fuck are we standin' here for, let's go!" You reached for his hand, ready to march off.

"Uh, no, no, no, no," he pulled you back to him; anchoring his hands on your hips so you could not escape. "You are not going anywhere. Not now - especially now," he glanced at your still-growing bump. "The men will go, you know we will return, but you have this new responsibility, and that's keeping this little one safe. For us," he smiled at you.

You huffed, "I'm not unfit to do what needs done, Osferth."

"I did not say you were unfit, but look at the timing of it," he frowned. "I should've been here when you learned, but I was not, and I am truly so sorry for it. Look, I do not know how long this venture will be, but you know I will return. We've waited for our family for far too long, I will not jeopardize this - so I will return. If you go with us, and something were to happen," he shook his head, "my angel, I would never forgive myself. So I need you to stay here, stay safe, if for nothing else but for me."

"But Pyrlig - "

"Will be saved," he assured.

"And Brida - "

"Will be dealt with," he eased, chuckling lightly. "My angel, you worry too much about everyone and yet never about yourself."

You pouted, "Well, why is it just me meant to stay back? This is your child, too, Osferth, and should have the right to meet them! You can't always control what happens, accidents are real, what if you don't return - "

"Don't think like that - "

"But it's a real threat to us - "

He agreed, "Of course, but - "

"Yeah, I know," you nodded, cutting him off, "we serve Lord Uhtred. This comes first, and I'm not - "

"I've made a vow to him."

"You made one to me, too, you know."

"Angel, please, don't do this. Do not ask me to choose," he begged with a frown, and you caved.

So, with a sigh, you nuzzled into his embrace and relented, "All right, yes, fine, go after Brida and Pyrlig. And when you find them, tell him I am waiting for his safe return, he is dearly missed. Ideally, I'd have him birth our child."

"Of course," he breathed, finding a small reprieve of relief that you did not fight him further about leaving - about choosing which vow to fulfill: the one to his Lord Uhtred or the one to his wife.

Both made to God.

Luckily, Osferth married his best friend and you were never one to pick fights with him. You liked the harmony you had; the peaceful environment you had both cultivated to preserve the trust and love you built through the years. He was genuinely one of a kind; a man who walked many lines between faith, humanity, right, wrong. He was the voice of reason, constantly striving to do better than he did before, learning all he could as if a rag soaking in water. For all he was, Osferth has always been enough for you, and for that reason alone, you never felt the need to argue.

To fight. To voice contempt.

"Question," you perked up, smirking at him as your pregnancy symptoms ran a little wild, "think we've time to, you know, really give our thanks?"

"Angel - "

"What?" You grinned. "You fucked me on the alter all those weeks ago and look - your seed stuck. We might as well go give thanks in the same manner, just to really show God how thankful we are for this blessing he's given us."

"Think the Devil's gotten into you," he laughed.

"Or your child is ruining my hormones," you countered, his lips meeting yours in another passionate display of his excitement.

"C'mon," he whispered, taking your hand, and leading you to the chapel - thinking you were being sneaky, but your matching giggles made Ingrith and Finan beam at each other.

"He does know she can't get more pregnant, right?" Finan teased, flinching when Ingrith smacked his upper arm.

"WHY!?"

"My angel, please - "

"What the fuck is going on, Osferth!?"

"I'm trying to explain - "

"The Queen? The fucking Queen is dead in our village! How can that possibly be explained!?" When Osferth didn't answer, just sat in the wooden chair before the shared hearth of your humble home, you snapped, "Well!?"

"Are you finished? May I speak now?"

With a huff, you nodded and gestured for him to speak; arms crossing around your swollen tits. He explained to you the reason for Haesten's arrival, the wagon his men toted, and why he brought the Queen's dead body to the settlement of Rumcofa. He told you Haesten wanted to keep the peace when King Edward found out, claiming Uhtred's son-in-law, Stiorra's husband, Sigtryggr, had ordered this death - thinking war would surely roll over his lands.

You never knew Haesten to be a generous man, nor much of an honest one, but it seemed the severity of the situation made everyone eerily on-edge. Uhtred dispatched his men; leaving Finan and Osferth in the village with you, developing a plan that would save both Saxon and Danish life. And yet, it was all futile when evil forces worked against good.

You didn't feel safe in Rumcofa anymore, there was a stench in the air; tension that mounted to embrace all residents with discomfort. Something was about to happen, but nobody knew what. You didn't claim or pretend to know what was happening, but Haesten's abrupt appearance spelled danger for everyone involved. So, as a security measure, you kept a long sword buckled around your swelling waist and a dagger strapped under your skirts. With Lord Uhtred gone, there was no invisible fence protecting Rumcofa - leaving it up to you, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf to pose as guard.

Yet you'd never be enough.

Like the surf over sand, a group of angered men descended on Rumcofa. "Who's men are yah?" Finan asked, you lingering at Osferth's side to watch the interaction from a short distance.

"We come from the King," a burly Saxon replied, your head cocking in interest - swearing you've seen him before. "Dane murderers are hiding here and you must hand them over."

"You're mistaken, sir," you kindly offered, the man's eyes shifting over you, "because we live in peace. Any murderers have surely moved on from here. We do not host them."

The man growled, "Don't think that's true, love."

Finan held a hand back at you, meeting your eyes and nodding simply. He turned back for the man in fur, diverting, "Of course, my men will attend to it."

Finan turned from the group, his eyes connecting with yours as he passed by. There was urgency, a quickened pace he adopted; having no intention to hand anyone over, wanting to remove these men without bloodshed. However, that was a distant thought because Father Benedict tried to assure the Saxon leader that nobody in Rumcofa would murder Queen Aelflaed.

You wanted to step in when the Saxon evidently didn't know about the Queen's demise - getting in Benedict's face and demanding to see what he spoke of.

"No, no, no," you muttered nervously, "he can't see the body, love, no, no, no, this is bad. Very bad."

"We can't stop Father Benedict without altercation," Osferth whispered back, keeping a tight hold of your hand, just watching the group. "If something happens, you need to get yourself safe."

"How do we truly know they're from Edward? What credentials do they have?" When Osferth shook his head, you worried, "Got a bad feeling 'bout this, angel."

Then the violence began.

The strange men took charge when their leader walked away, starting to physically harass the citizens; making both you and Osferth step in to try and diffuse the tension. You pushed men off unarmed women, got in between them and the children, did what you could without drawing a weapon.

When a man shoved you away from him, Finan wrangled him away, sneering, "Get yer hands off of her!" He kept the violent men at bay for a moment, telling you, "You need to go, darling - "

"Not now, Fin, look around us! We need to contain the situation, you'll need all hands you can get," You snapped, the two of you forced to part way.

Osferth panted nervously and looked left and right, turning to meet the Saxon and demand, "Tell your men to stand down!" But then, his eyes squinted when you joined his side to pull him back a step or two, recognizing him just as you did.

"I don't think they're here for the Queen, love," you heaved for breath in warning, still backing him up. "They've planned this."

"Finan!" Osferth barked, "These men have been here before!"

The Saxon roared over the fray, "Danes of Rumcofa have murdered our Queen!" His men jeered in anger, making Finan brandish both swords and for Osferth to push you back further from the attention. "Do your duty and rid the cockles from the wheat!"

You were left no choice. Osferth and you both armed yourselves, starting to fight off the Saxons as their leader demanded Danes and Christians be separated. You were unable to help, engaged in battle, but Young Uhtred gathered the Danes and begged Father Benedict to declare the church a sanctuary - thinking it would save lives.

It was only leading the Danes to slaughter.

The Saxon, Bresal, punched Father Benedict when he tried to stand in the way; his men holding Young Uhtred in the doorway to let their men enter the church the Danes were gathered in. They forced Young Uhtred to watch the massacre - men, women, and Danish children all slaughtered with no escape. No hope. No answer to a single prayer. Nobody to stop this bloody situation.

You fought on, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf doing their best to protect you by keeping you in the middle of their wee group. But you still got plenty of action.

"This is madness!" You cried out, slicing a man's throat open. "We need aid! We need more men!"

"This way!" Finan encouraged, "We must cut a path for Ingrith! Check the docks! Check the docks!"

You and Osferth ran towards the water, Cynleaf not far away. You searched for Ingrith, but you had no time to linger; engaged one-on-one again, forced to protect yourself and unborn baby. Not a minute later, you saw Ingrith on horseback, being stalled by a Saxon and for your husband to rush to her aid. He punched the man away from the horse, you hacking at another enemy, in time to see Osferth engaging with two Saxons - one being the leader, Bresal.

It all happened so fast.

You were already racing towards them when the unexpected. Osferth was battling on two fronts, holding Bresal at bay, fending off the other Saxon, screaming for Ingrith, who only managed a few paces before the Saxon's dogs spooked her horse. The noise was deafening; people screaming, crying, dogs barking, horses whinnying, swords singing as they clashed.

You watched it happen in slow motion.

You sprinted faster than ever before.

"INGRITH!" Osferth bellowed in worry when her horse reared back and dropped her to the dirt. It left an opening for Bresal to stab his dagger into Osferth's lung - freezing time and wrecking your world.

"NO!" You screamed, Bresal smirking at you and yanking his dagger free. Osferth wobbled, eyes wide as he met yours, the Saxon walking away as Osferth dropped to his knees. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, God, no, no, you can't take him - not yet! Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," You repeated, sliding on your knees in the dirt to catch him. "No, no, oh, my God, no, Osferth, no, please! Not now, not now, please, no, God, no! Don't do this! Please, please, please," you rambled, readjusting to better hold him, hearing Cynleaf and Finan yell for Baby Monk, too. You raged at God, "You can't take him yet! You can't have him! He's mine!"

But you heard nothing except your husband's labored breathing.

"An-Angel, angel, my angel," Osferth choked, wheezing and crying as he couldn't hold himself up and completely slumped back into your body. He pawed at your arms in an attempt to get closer.

"No, no, no, you're all right, you're okay, you're okay, my sweet love, you're all right," you insisted, hands stained in his blood as it poured from his wound. You knew it was essential to add pressure to a wound, but also, that this was all futile. Yet you needed to try. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, just look at me, sweetheart, please, only look at me, nothing else matters," you pleaded with him in a rush, the lads sprinting to where you held your husband to your lap.

Nobody interrupted you.

"Where's the wound?" Osferth sobbed, trembling, blood spurting from his mouth; going paler by the minute. "Angel, please, the wound? Where's the wound?"

"No, no, no, don't worry 'bout that, hey? Don't you worry, you just keep looking at me," you sobbed, holding his neck and cradling him to your swollen belly. "Just at me, my love, okay? Just look at me - don't look anywhere else, okay? Nothing else matters."

"H-How bad? How ba-ba-bad-bad is i-it?"

"You're going to be all right," you lied to Osferth for the first time.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Osferth repeated through his tears and fears, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."

He held onto you desperately, sobbing, you slowly rocking. "No, you're all right, Osferth, it's okay, just look at me." You caressed his cheek, smearing blood, but locking eyes. "My love," you whispered, "listen to me - "

"I don't wanna die, please, please, angel, my love, please," he coughed, holding your arm tightly as if it would give him life. "Don't let me die," he wheezed, "don't let me die, my love, please, please. Don't let me die, I don't wanna die. I-I wanna meet our baby, please, I want to meet our baby, I want to be a father. Don't let me die, love, please, I-I wanna be your husband longer - "

"You'll never not be my husband and you'll never not be a father, hear me?" You sniffled, trying to smile at him. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be okay, you're okay, Osferth. You'll always be my husband, nothing will change that - I swear."

Blood pumped with each beat of his frantic heart, making it gush over your fingers. You didn't even feel it.

"Please," he choked, more blood bubbling from his lips, "don't let me die, I don't wanna die. Don't let me die, please, not now, not when our baby isn't here yet, please, I just wanna meet 'em, be a family, I wanna stay with you, don't let me go. Please, don't let me go, I don't want t'go! Don't let me - "

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here with you. I'm right here, Osferth, you're not alone, you're never alone. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you, I won't ever let you go. Never."

He sobbed harder. "I don't wanna leave you. Please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be without you - " But the words choked him, a splatter spraying across your face when he coughed; you didn't even flinch.

"Listen to me," you begged, "I commend you, my dear, sweet husband, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator."

Finan was heard behind you, retching jarring sobs as you read Osferth his death rite prayer. "Don't let me die," Osferth begged still, as if you held that power.

He had always looked at you as if you hung the sun and stars, and now, as if you were his very reason for living. You hated God in that moment for forcing you two through this.

"May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May Holy Mary, the angels," now, you choked on your words, emotion clawing your throat, but still continued, "and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace." You sobbed, "May Christ who died for you admit you into His garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of His flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. Amen. Please, please, say amen, Osferth, say it, please!"

"A-Amen - Amen!" He coughed, trying to get closer to you, nestling into your warmth as he felt impossibly cold. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, please, please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be alone. I can't go without you, please, don't let me go - don't let me die, angel, please, I can't go without you. I-I’ve never been without you my whole life, I don’t wish to start now. I love you. I-I love you, please, don't let me go, I love you. I need you."

"You'll never be without me," you promised, face coated in blood, grime, dirt, and ash; all streaked with your tear tracks. "You will always be my husband, hey? Hear me? You're always gonna be with me, I will never be apart from you. I'll love you forever, Osferth, I won't ever stop." You felt your chest cave in as you sobbed, "Please, don't you leave me - "

But Osferth was wheezing and panting, only staring up at you. "I only need you," he whimpered, "I've only ever needed you, I can't do this without you. Please, I can't - I can't go without you. I don't want to leave you, I can't leave you, please!'

"So don't leave me," you sobbed, him still clawing at you in desperation. "I love you more than life, Osferth, please, don't leave me, okay? Don't go. I love you so much. Being loved by you was my greatest pleasure in this life, I want our child to know your love, too, Osferth, please, don't go."

"I-I wanna meet our baby, I wanna hold 'em, love 'em," he repeated. "Please, this can't be the end, don't let this be the end. W-We have so much more - we were supposed to have eternity together, my love, my angel, please! This isn't the end, I can't - I can't go without you!"

"You're okay," you soothed uselessly, rocking more prominently. "Just stay with me, my love, okay? Stay with me. Don't go. Only look at me, all right? You hear me?" You sniffled, caressing his cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, Osferth, yeah? Understand me? Where you're going, y-you'll be welcomed a hero, with open arms. You'll be my own angel. My real angel. The reason I keep going for our child. An-And you'll stay there just for a little while until I join you, okay? You'll watch over us, me and the baby, right? Our own angel? Hey? 'Cause you'll never be part from us - you'll never be apart from me. You and I are a forever sorta thing, we'll never be apart, we'll always be part of each other no matter what."

Osferth lost his words, eyes widening and pulling you closer.

You just soothed, "I'm here with you, my love. I'm here, I've got you. You're not alone, I'm right here, I have you. I've got you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Osferth, okay? I love you more than anything, you're my everything. I love you," you sniffled, breaking down in worse sobs, repeating, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't faster, I love you, this shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, I should've come faster! I love you, I'm so sorry."

With his last breath, Osferth choked, "L-Love y-y-you."

"I love you," you hushed, bending at the waist to rest your forehead on his, "I love you so much. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, you'll be safe - where you're going, you'll be safe. I'm so sorry, my love... I'm so sorry."

You felt him go still. You felt the last of his breath exhale, his body deflate. You felt his soul detach from his body.

You froze.

"Oh, my God," you breathed, pulling back to look down at his petrified features. "Oh, my God, no, no, no. God, please, please, give him back," you sobbed, "give him back to me! Do not take him! It's not his time, you selfish cunt! Give him back! It wasn't supposed to end like this! Give him back to me, please! Please! This isn't how this was supposed to happen! We promised eternity together, please! Let us have that! Let us be together, give him back to me! I need him!"

Your shrill hysterics were heard all over Rumcofa.

Finan sobbed into his wife's arms behind you, Cynleaf knelt to slowly extend his hand onto your shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he offered, but you pushed him away harshly; knocking him into the dirt.

"No! I don't want your fucking condolences!" You snapped, holding Osferth tighter, "I want my husband! I want my husband back! Can you give him to me? Can you, Cynleaf? Can you give him back to me!?"

"No - "

"Then you have nothing to offer me! I want nothing else, nothing from you! I only want him!" You looked away from the young lad, finding Osferth's wide open eyes staring up at you. You whimpered, "I only need him, so, please. Please, give him back to me. Please. I need him, I need him, I can't do this without him, please, God, don't do this. You take so many lives, why add him to the mix!? Give him back! C'mon," you begged the cooling body, "c'mon, love, get up. Get up for me, please, just wake up. Come back to me, get up... Get up, Osferth, get up! Please! WAKE UP!"

But Osferth never moved. Never blinked. Never drew breath. And God never answered your pleas. Your dress was saturated in your husband's blood; a pooling puddle seeping into your knees, bodice drenched, his baby moving in your belly. You wailed into the still air, holding your husband tight to your chest; mouth agape to release the terrible screams of anguish, tears never ending, rocking on your knees. You didn't know what to feel... But devastation was prominent.

You wept until your throat went raw, jaw tender from your open mouth. "I'm so sorry!" You repeated, "I should've been quicker! I should've been at your side! You shouldn't have been alone! This is my fault! This is all my fault, I shouldn't have been away from you. I should've been with you, you did not deserve this end. Please! Forgive me, wherever you are, forgive me, I did not intend for this, I shouldn't have left you, I should've been at your side, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"No," Ingrith whispered, "no, do not say this is your fault, you did nothing - "

"Exactly!" You snapped at her, eyes ablaze, her husband silent. "I did nothing, I wasn't with him! I wasn't where I was supposed to be! And he was stabbed because of you!"

Finan whispered your name in reprimand.

"No! How many times have you rode a fucking horse, Ingrith!? And now, today, the time it truly matters, you fall; you posed distraction," you sobbed, crumpling in on yourself. "He was distracted by your fall... This shouldn't've happened, this is all wrong!"

The trio just watched you, knowing your emotions were raw and unwavering, that your words did not have meaning because your husband had just died in your arms. Hours passed, you did not move. Hours passed, your husband did not return. Hours passed, and your heart shattered with each passing breath you selfishly drew.

Because living felt selfish now without Osferth.

"Sweet one," Finan whispered, the sun setting, "we should move him. Bring him to the church so Benedict can pray."

Your head shook, "No."

"Darlin', we have to - "

"No," you whimpered, "because if you take him to Benedict, it's real. If we move, he's truly gone... He can't be gone, Finan," you sobbed, meeting your friend's eyes. "If you move him, he's gone, I'm not ready to say goodbye, please. Please, don't take him from me."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "but he should be laid to rest."

"Don't take him from me," you begged, a new wave of tears starting. "I just - we were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have this baby, and now, it's just me? This cannot be, so please, don't take him from me, I only need him back. Give him back to me, Finan, please, I can't be without him."

"I know," he nodded, gently encouraging you into his embrace. It meant you had to let go of Osferth, something you did slowly and gradually, leaning into the Irishman's chest. "All right, I got yah," he whispered, looking to his wife. "C'mon, stand with Ingrith. I'll carry him."

"Be gentle," you sobbed, feeling Ingrith grip your arms to help heave you to your feet; watching Finan scoop Osferth over his shoulder. The change of position made more blood splatter to the dirt, your heart stalling in your chest when you heard the mess.

You felt your soul shriveled and hidden somewhere deep in your chest, following as if in a trance. You watched Finan and Cynleaf slowly lower Osferth to the ground with the other dead Danes, feeling yourself drop to the ground in shock.

Seeing Osferth amongst the dead made it so much more real.

"It's all my fault," you sobbed, Finan moving to your side, "it's all my fault, I got him killed. I should've been quicker. This is my fault, my fault, I did this, 's my fault."

Finan knelt beside you, bringing your foreheads together to hold you tightly and let you sob into his embrace. "You didn't do this," he promised, "you did nothing wrong. You are not at fault. Do not carry this guilt."

You sobbed without reprieve.

Young Uhtred halted Father Benedict from praying over the Danes, telling the older man they had different customs, but looked back at you. He asked your name softly, wondering, "Do you wish for a prayer for... Him?"

Even Young Uhtred couldn't stomach the truth, avoiding using Osferth's name out of sheer disbelief.

"That'd be nice," Finan agreed, turning to sit beside you and hold you under his arm. You leaned into his embrace, head to his shoulder. "She read him his death rites when... It happened."

Young Uhtred nodded, bowing his head, leading, "Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

Then, you joined from under Finan's heavy arm, sobbing through your words, "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."

Benedict finished, "Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."

Together, you, Ingrith, Young Uhtred, Benedict, Finan, and even Cynleaf ended, "Amen."

Feeling the most level-headed, Ingrith stepped in and directed the men; informing that Young Uhtred should lead the remaining Danes to Daneland, Finan and Cynleaf would meet Uhtred on the road, and she would accompany you to Wessex - where Osferth could be laid to rest at the place of his birth. Then, the people mourned together for their fallen.

Finan disagreed initially, telling his wife you were his responsibility now that Osferth was passed. But there was no way you could continue with the company, not in your pregnant state. Finan didn't like the idea of you being without him, considering you close to a sister; something of a best mate, someone he couldn't turn his back on - no matter the situation. However, he understood the predicament and finally agreed to part ways, but not before he untied Osferth's crucifix and latched it around your neck. At the gates of Rumcofa, before separating, Finan gifted you his rosary; thinking it might bring comfort in his physical absence.

Years from then, you would bring up a single son named Gabriel (a name your husband favored, a name benefitting an Angel) under Lord Uhtred in his birthplace of Bebbanburg. You never remarried. You never even so much as looked after another man with lust. Gabriel would grow into a handsome warrior and a devoted man of God, satisfied on tales about his father; being painted as a man of honor, integrity, and bravery. Osferth, too, was a man of God, a man of the sword, and a man of his word... Until the very end. And when your time came, you were brought back to Wessex to be laid to rest with your husband; your son having a son, naming him Osferth, and knowing, both his parents shined down on him in pride.

It was a comfort for everyone to know, somewhere in the afterlife, in God's warmth, you and Osferth were reunited; looking just as you did the day you parted from one another.

requesting rules and masterlist

#osferth #baby monk #osferth the last kingdom #the last kingdom osferth #osferth x reader #osferth fanfic #osferth x you #osferth x y/n #osferth angst #ewan mitchell characters #the last kingdom #TLK #tlk fandom #tlk #tlk osferth #osferth tlk #tlk fanfic #baby monk osferth #osferth baby monk #ewan mitchell

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Could be a little off-canon for some characters, lots of plot, slight angst, Miguel is an helicopter mom, reader just wants some friends :(

a/n: ok. i didn't realize how much i wanted to put into this chapter so spicy stuff is coming NEXT chapter. promith. i've already written some of it. anyway, i'm glad y'all are enjoying my O'Hara content. I hope this lives up to your expectations lmfao

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. You regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. This is what you've been doing since he swept you away.

w/c: 2.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

So being “Spider-Woman” turned out to be harder than you thought. It’s not all swinging from and shooting webs like you imagined. Apparently, there’s a spider-specific physical regimen you’re required to keep up with. Every day. 

You’re almost convinced that you’re being hazed into the spider-verse community because you are yet to see anyone else doing upside-down web squats on a 100-story building. Not to mention the life-threatening training simulations you were thrown into as soon as you arrived in Nueva York. 

“They can’t hurt you, Kid. They’re holograms.” 

“Yeah, that’s what they want you to think O’Hara, but my ass has been kicked enough to prove differently.”

“Alright, well they can’t kill you.”

Miguel has been “training” you for the last few months to become the best Spider-Woman you can be, pushing you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. Though these days, this “training” is actually just him telling Parker to drill you in whatever he thinks will work. 

O’Hara attempted to do it himself for like three days, and it turns out he’s too impatient to take in a spider apprentice or even be in a room where you do anything but exactly what he commands. 

You should’ve expected it. 

Sure, Miguel is a naturally grumpy man, but you swear he has it out for you. He literally tenses whenever you enter the room and makes sure to barely meet your eyes when he’s forced to talk to you.

Actually, ever since you were dropped in the middle of Spider-Central, O’Hara has been ignoring you. Treating you like the plague. Always making the excuse that he’s too busy with things that are far more important than anything you’d ever have to say. As if he wasn’t the one who forced you to come with him in the first place…

It’s not fair. He was literally all you had. 

Months ago, he showed you a side of him, the one that convinced you that he actually brought you here for a reason, but now he can’t even look at you. Sure, you’re a particularly slow learner, and one that never really liked PE, but you deserve some slack. You left everything for him – for them. 

Meeting people who’ve gone through similar circumstances as you was quite interesting, to say the least. And it doesn’t stop at people either. Spider cars, dinosaurs, and cats were just the beginning. 

You’ve made a few friends. There’s Gwen, a 15 (or was it 16?) -year-old who mostly talks about her friend Miles, music, and…uh, Miles. It’s sweet how she gushes on about some guy without fully realizing how into him she is. Miles sounds great, really great, but you’ll probably never get to meet him because of the number of restrictions placed on your watch. Fucking O’Hara and his parental controls. 

Gwen is cool, she plays the drums and can do a bunch of acrobatic things that you’d never even attempt, but she’s also almost a half-decade younger than you. There’s only so much you can talk about before you start getting homesick. Of course, despite her young age, she’s still given more responsibilities and missions than you. If Miguel has one hobby, it would be undermining everything you do. 

“She’s been in the game longer than you have.” He always makes that excuse. 

And you always counter it with: “But I’m older! I can do more than just scream for help!”

“This isn’t a discussion.” That honestly might be his favorite phrase to shut you up these days. “You’ll be called on when you’re ready, Kid.” And that. 

“I am ready. And stop calling me that. I’m not a kid, I’m 20 years old!”

“Yeah, whatever.”

There’s also Peter Parker, your reluctant coach. He’s…something else. Sure, he’s your friend, but he’s more like a substitute teacher and crazy uncle type of guy. Usually, he listens to everything Miguel says, acting like a glorified babysitter, but sometimes, he’s up to bend the rules on some things.

Once he let you visit his dimension, claiming you’d need some real-life experience as a “friendly-neighborhood spider-woman”. You spent that day chasing down petty robbers and helping old ladies cross the road. Sure, it was a small field trip, but that was only the third dimension you’d traveled to at the time. 

Parker is also always trying to get you to hold his daughter whenever she comes to work claiming that “it’ll be good for your mental health, trust me.” Of course, for Parker, every day is “bring-your-kid-to-train-the-new-spider-woman-day”. And really, you don’t mind holding her, but not when you’re in the middle of sparing 5 of Doc Ocks tentacles. 

The baby is adorable, but you do worry about how she crawls up the walls. Parker doesn’t seem fazed. Actually, neither does O’Hara. 

Sometimes you wonder if O’Hara wants kids one day. He certainly handles Mayday like a pro, letting her crawl over his shoulders and paperwork. Would he possibl– No, actually, it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter, because he left you. He’s not – couldn’t even be an option. – Anyway…

Parker and Mayday are nice company and the only real constants in your life, but you really just want to be a consistent part of the team. You don’t know how much longer you can spend your days doing swinging drills and spider crunches (don’t even ask). But Parker has actually been your rock these past months, to give him credit. He’s one of the few people that makes you feel like you belonged in this distorted array of spiders and dimensions.

Then there’s Hobie. 

The first time you met him you probably had literal stars in your eyes. Donned with a spiked vest and several facial piercings, he caught your attention right away. He catches everyone’s attention. Even his suit is cooler than everyone else’s with a spiked mohawk that surely gets in the way.

Unfortunately, just as you were hoping to take on the Brit as your mentor for all things spider, he was decidedly off-limits, courtesy of O’Hara. Apparently, his rebellious nature and brash energy make him a “bad influence”. 

“Seriously? You should be glad that I’m taking a bigger interest in my training.” You have your hands posted up on your hips, trying to make yourself look bigger than you actually are. Damn, O’Hara and his domineering presence!

He rolls his eyes openly, genuinely already done with the conversation. “Yeah…your ‘training,’ sure.” 

“What is that supposed to mean!” You practically whine it out.

“Don’t get distracted gatita, just do as you’re told.”

“Ok, what does that mean? I don’t speak Italian.”

“That was Spanish dumbass.”

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hanging out with him anyway (though he’s not around as much anymore). Who knew making friends as Spider-Person would be so hard. You’d think you’d have a lot in common with everyone around you, but really, you’re all alone. Sometimes you think the spiders actually resent you deep down because you’re the only one that has never lost anything. Or had anything to lose in the first place. 

For now, you’re just moving through a sea of spiders, trying to catch a glimpse of what you’re supposed to be doing here. Trying to figure out why you were chosen over the infinite other versions of you in the multiverse.

—

So far you’ve been on 2 and a half missions. The half was when you were forcibly sent home and effectively grounded for a week. Apparently, talking to civilians while standing guard is prohibited, even when they’re selling dip’n’dots. What? It was a long ass mission. And it was hot! 

This one is your official third mission. It’s quite simple, in theory. Just travel to Earth-275A, infiltrate a tech lab, pick up some – worryingly volatile – equipment, and go home. Easy. 

Except, it didn’t exactly go that way. 

It’s just you, Miguel, Gwen, and Jess on this mission. You and Jess were placed on lookout duty (you on the roof and Jess on the ground with her bike), while Miguel and Gwen broke in and out of the building. It was all running smoothly, each spider occasionally muttering quietly through the radio whenever their positionings changed. Otherwise, it was silent. And frankly, a bit boring. 

You idly kicked around some pebbles that somehow found their way onto the roof of this tall ass building, sometimes smacking them against the half wall separating you from falling a thousand feet downwards. You were actually dying to get back to HQ because you briefly spotted Hobie talking to Parker and Mayday before you had to go. He’s been quite absent lately, and you want to show off some of the new moves you learned this week.

Then, there was suddenly action. 

A huge explosion surges out the right side of the building that O’Hara and Stacy were infiltrating. That mission plan was not kidding when they described the ‘volatility’ of the shit inside of those supply crates. Deep creaking and smashing objects follow the blast. You watch as the tallest building in the city starts to tilt. Shit, the explosion must’ve taken out some of the support beams.

You hear Miguel yelling your name through your earpiece, as well as heavy breathing and crumbling concrete in the background. 

“Y-yes? Copy–”

“You and Gwen collect the crate and get out of here. I already called for a portal. Jess and I will get surrounding civilians away from danger.” 

“Understood, sir.” You don’t usually call him anything like ‘sir’, but the stakes are high and complete compliance is needed at this moment. 

“Crate is located on the top floor, Stacy is already there waiting for my word.” You briefly shake yourself out, mentally preparing yourself to scale the larger building in front of you.

With a quick fwp, you attach your web to the nearly as tall building next to your target to give yourself some leverage. You jump without even giving yourself time to think about it, tugging slightly at the web, making sure to collect as much kinetic energy as possible. You release the web when you get to the highest point and spit out another web to get you to the top floor of the building. Luckily the blast took out the windows so you could easily enter the floor. 

There, Gwen stands next to a crate with several scientists and guards nicely pasted onto the walls with perfectly placed webs on each limb and over their abdomens. 

“Took you long enough.” 

“It’s been 30 seconds!”

“Relax, I’m teasing.” She shoots out a couple of webs and connects them to the crate. “Here, help me out with this.” You follow her movements, pulling at your webs slightly to get a good evaluation of its weight. Surprisingly, it moves quite easily, almost three inches from your soft tug.

“Why’re we both doing this when it weighs 100 lbs. We have super strength.”

“I dunno, Miguel just gave us the orders. There’s probably a reason. It doesn’t really matter.” You frown realizing you could’ve been down there helping O’Hara save actual lives but instead, you were ordered to assist a teenager on a one-person job. “The portal is opening in a few seconds on the roof of the building behind us.” Gwen doesn’t seem phased. “We can just swing it with us.”

“Isn’t this shit going to blow up if we move it too harshly?”

“Not when it’s in this protective crate.” She steps closer to the broken window, mentally measuring and planning out the escape route. “That explosion earlier was from an open container.” You hum, still torn over leaving Gwen to do the delivery so you can help people get out of the way faster. “You ready then?” She’s been watching you. Clearly, your thoughts are painted on your face.

You nod briefly, “Let’s go.” Together you take each side of the crate and use your other arms to swing yourselves over to the portal that magically appears. This time, that odd purring sound of the portal is completely blocked out by the chaos going on around you. Somehow the building has still only tilted a little bit since the explosion. 

As Gwen pushes the crate into the gateway, you look down at the streets, watching as Miguel and Jess work impeccably together as they save hundreds of civilians from falling debris and the inevitable demolition of the building.

Then you look back a Gwen, who’s ready to head home. Then you look down at them again. 

Then your eye catches on a red sedan sheltering a terrified family that sits under the chaos.

Gwen catches your eye. “Don’t.” 

“I have to.” 

“Migu–”

“Would do the same.”

“--Will mur-der me.” You sigh, but quickly shoot a couple of webs downwards without looking. Gwen has her arms folded, sharing that unamused expression that Jess loves to sport. Her feet are now temporarily stuck to the floor. You’re sure she could get out of it in a second, but you can tell, she’s not going to stop you. “Don’t die.”

Right before jumping off the ledge, you send her a cheesy smirk, “Me? Never.”

----

Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @danaeaurelia @reuxxi

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #spider-man

[btc-official]

mutual 1: (that one mediocre twitter screenshot youve already seen five times today. you know the one)

mutual 2: yeah i microwaved your boyfriend sorry put him in there for a minute thirty mhm yep hes all crispy now sorry

mutual 3: if you dont want to fuck a fat hairy old man do you even really have the spark of consciousness

mutual 4: heyyy queen❤️ credit card tonight? credit card please? credit card information tonight bestie?

mutual 5: slenderman if he was WIZARD CORE be like find my mages

mutual 6: no guys. hear me out. mcu spiderman is actually a really interesting character because (6000 word dashboard nuke)

mutual 7: ok i’m not answering anything else from “Racist Anon” i try to engage with people in good faith but it’s been really bad for my mental health

mutual 8: wish a hot tgirl would cut me open and replace all my organs with old vhs player parts but in like a sexual way

mutual 9: at this point i forget she/her shadow the hedgehog isnt canon sometimes

mutual 10: who up wungling they hog

mutual 11: who up wungling they hog

mutual 12: THIRTY FIVE DEGREES SIX MINUTES SEVEN SECONDS NORTH. ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN DEGREES EIGHT MINUTES AND FOURTEEN SECONDS WEST. DECEMBER SIXTEENTH. YOU WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO

mutual 13: who up wungling they hog

mutual 14: i wish someone would wungle my hog… (uncensored selfie)

mutual 15: if you dont ship the rugrats you’re against free speech (i don’t remember why i followed this guy)

mutual 16: (twenty minute heritage blog rp thread)

mutual 17: unfollow if you watch the simpsons that shit is racist as hell

mutual 18: does anyone else think (mutual 17) is guilt tripping people

mutual 19: (reblog of my own zero effort post that i regret making) dave woukd say this

[crushedsweets]

I'm the sweetest girl in town; so why are you so mean? Nina 'the Killer' Hopkins in Creeped PT 2: PURPOSE

PT. 1: K-12 — PT. 3: NEW MESSAGE

General disclaimer: This AU is an amalgamation of headcanons, fanon, canon, and the occasional rewrite. There is an overarching story that HEAVILY strays from their canon stories. TW for toxic relationships, murder, violence and self-harm. Please take care of yourself and only engage in content you can handle.

PURPOSE

❥After Nina attacked Claudia, she was forced back online. Back to her recluse lifestyle, hiding away from everyone she could. She didn’t want to be seen anymore. Having her social life torn away from her once again hurt. Watching her father’s face morph into disappointment in her high school’s office hurt. Receiving hateful messages from peers again hurt. 

❥Her online friends were still there, thankfully. It was interesting, actually, the news they bought her. The same day she attacked Claudia, there was a brand new true crime case. She huddled beneath her blanket and called them for comfort. She stayed up until 5am researching this case, listening to her friends jokingly say that the case could’ve been Nina's crime. It happened the same day, right? 

❥His name was Jeffery Alan Woods. She was 16 now, and he was a year younger than her. New information was still unfolding as the weeks went by, but this 15 year old boy really fought back. She sympathized with him upon learning about his story. He was troubled and bullied like her. He just wanted to be happy too, right? Live a good life with his brother, have fun at school, make friends. But boys at his school bullied him for it. It wasn’t fair at all to him.

❥Nina really could have been him. She watched hours of interviews, scoffing at everyone who implied he was evil. He was defending himself. Why didn’t they help him when they could have? If they stepped in, he wouldn’t have had to go so far in protecting himself. He had to do it. They failed him. Just like everyone failed Nina. 

❥Nina found Facebooks, Instagrams, and even year books. She spent days scouring the internet, compiling every possible photo she could find of Jeff. He was such a cute kid, she thought! He seemed so sweet in his 2009 Christmas photo, sitting politely with Santa. She saw his older brother, Liu, in several photos. She began researching Liu obsessively too, but he was often kept on the backburner. His interviews were few and far between, as he tried to fade into obscurity. His rare public appearances always mentioned forgiveness. Liu seemed to be the only one who saw humanity left in Jeff, just like Nina did. Why did everyone have to turn him into such a monster? 

❥Nina was able to find Liu’s address in a matter of days. Now she wanted to find Jeff. 

❥She was thrilled everytime a new murder happened. Whenever it was traced back to Jeff, she was overjoyed. Criminal sketches began getting released, and Nina hung them all on her wall. God, the smile was cute. And it was fun! He was just as eccentric as her. She began drawing the smile on her face with makeup, sending it to her online friends and posting selfies on the internet. She received a whole slew of hate comments demeaning her for idolizing this killer, but they didn’t understand his story like she did. 

❥Her mental health deteriorated rapidly. She did the bare minimum to scrape by in school. She never left her room, save for a shower once a week. Christopher brought meals to her, even if his little hands had to cook them himself. He didn’t like being in Nina’s room, really. The photos of Jeff littered the walls and the floor was filled with clothes and empty bottles. Regrettably, Christopher stumbled upon some photos of crime scenes which left him with nightmares.

❥Nina wouldn’t even look at him when he brought her dinner. Her bloodshot eyes were glued to her screen, cackling away at forums about Jeff, or curled up sobbing and begging Christopher to get the fuck out of her room. 

❥Nina took one of her weekly showers halfway through her senior year. She was in there for so long, and the shower had long been turned off. Christopher needed to use the bathroom. First, it was a timid little knock, asking if she was almost done. She said to wait, so he did. He asked again, and she said to wait. It happened again and again until he was banging on the door, whining and telling her to get out of the bathroom. She was being so annoying, always doing her makeup for hours at a time.

❥That’s what he figured, at least. He didn’t think anything of grabbing his mom’s card and using it to unlock the door, just like he’d done several times before when Nina was hogging the bathroom.

❥He screamed at the sight. Nina sat on the edge of the bathtub. She was in her underwear, blood smeared all over her figure. Her biceps, stomach, and thighs were littered with hundreds of shallow, messy wounds. Nina threw her head up, big doe eyes widened in horror. Similar to the shallow cuts across her body, there were jagged scars across her cheeks. Blood bubbled and rolled off her chin, mixing with tears and snot. A foul smell came from her before he realized she had repeatedly thrown up into the tub. 

❥"GET THE FUCK OUT" was all she could manage, but Christophers cries brought him to his mother’s room. Nina desperately threw back on her pajamas, rushing to turn on the shower and make up any excuse she could.

❥There wasn’t really a defense for any of this. 

MISSISSIPPI 

❥February 13, 2015 Nina was sent to her grandparents home in Mississippi. It was her 17th birthday, right before her graduation. Her grandparents were retired and strict. Unlike her parents, they had all the time in the world to focus on Nina. They heavily monitored everything she did. Kept track of her location, her card, her friends. Made sure she put vitamin E oil on her scars and concealer before going out. They made her get a job working with their friend’s niece. Nina didn’t connect to anyone. She simply filed in and out of work and school, finishing up whatever had to be done and barely scraping by at graduation.

❥ Her grandparents barely permitted a gap year, but she began working full time. She got better at putting on a clean, sweet persona for them. She’d often come home and ramble to her grandparents about work, receiving firm advice to stay away from anyone causing Nina trouble. 

❥They couldn’t monitor her internet access the same way, though. Nina spent the next year obsessively researching Jeff all the same, but she kept it all contained to her laptop. Hundreds of hours of information compiled into thousands of different files. She had grown quite notorious in true crime communities, with her username being littered about several forums. ‘Nina the Killer’ was a silly but fitting screen name. 

❥She grew incredibly close to new people, all of which just as infatuated with Jeff. They all shared similar stories of being beaten and bruised their entire life, constantly daydreaming to exhibit the strength Jeff did that fatal day. Nina felt seen, for once. 

❥There was an especially interesting guy online. He went by Mark, and would email Nina very often, always asking her about her thoughts on Jeff’s latest move. Asked Nina for advice on how to kill his parents, too. She’d ramble on about several methods, and would completely melt when he praised her creativity. How sweet. He even spent time encouraging Nina’s curiosity on Liu, someone the community often disregarded. But Nina was fixated on him as well, just to a lesser extent. It felt so good to have someone care about her interests like that. Someone who engaged and encouraged her morbid thoughts.

❥A year went by. Her grandparents were so proud of her, genuinely believing she was getting better. They gave her a beautiful 18th birthday party, and quickly began registering her for their local community college. They wanted to keep her on this great path.

❥Before she could even select classes, Mark messaged her with a new rumor. Jeff was allegedly in Alabama. Only a state away from her. 

❥It was crazy, and it was unrealistic, and she should have dropped it. There was no fucking shot she’d meet him, right? But…

❥Nina Hopkins was pathetic. She rummaged through her grandparents' belongings one night, grateful for their poor hearing. She stuffed everything she could into a few massive suitcases, including her grandparents' cash. After withdrawing all her savings, she hopped on a train.

COINS

❥Nina stayed in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. She began working two jobs, waiting tables at a dingy little restaurant and at a Hot Topic in the local mall. It was difficult for a while, staying in dingy motels before she could finally find a cheap apartment to rent. 

❥She got along with most of the people she worked with now. The year with her grandparents genuinely helped with her rapidly deteriorating social skills, and it seemed everyone liked Nina’s spunk. She was chatty, sweet, and very pretty. Tips always found their way tucked into her back pocket. 

❥Her favorite coworker was a girl named Natalie. Natalie was the opposite of Nina. Tall, lanky, with long straight hair and a mean expression. She knew how to stand up for herself from the start. Natalie didn’t let her anger boil over until she made horrible decisions, not like Nina. The speed at which Natalie would get difficult customers off Nina’s back was startling. She was protective over all the girls in the restaurant, but especially little Nina.

❥Natalie was an odd one, too. Nina could tell. She saw tiny scars littered on Natalie’s cheeks, always covered with foundation, but never fully hiding them away. She usually wore a medical eyepatch over one eye. This only drew Nina to her all the more, until they eventually began getting lunch together every now and again. Nina was 19 by then.

❥Nina would nonsensically ramble about this boy she met online, earning a raised brow from Natalie. 

❥It was the same guy she met on a forum about Jeff the Killer, Mark. The one who always came to Nina for a hypothetical murder method. The one who shared gross, gorey images that he ‘found online.’ The one who told her that Jeff was in Alabama. Recently, Nina had been making plans to meet Mark. She shared this with Natalie.

❥But Nina had no clue Natalie knew Jeff. They were quite close, actually, living in the same damn abandoned farmhouse. Natalie caught lazy glances at Jeff’s phone, and she was quick to connect the dots. 

❥”Don’t fucking meet him. You’re being stupid.” Natalie was blunt, as usual.

❥”You’re so dramatic, oh my god. It’s not like I-”

❥”I said don’t.” Natalie was insistent. Nina never listened to good advice.

PT. 3: NEW MESSAGE

#creepypasta #nina the killer #creeped #sweetart #nina hopkins #creepypasta au #crp #crp au

[runnning-outof-time]

You know I had to do another one! 💙🥂

From the 5 word list, #16 - “Please stay with me tonight.” - with John or Tommy (that's up to you!)

(2 of 2)

Thanks for sending this one in also, Bri! I went with John on it so that I could break to the little Tommy steak that was going on before this! I also may be bending canon a little bit here, but oh well. And I couldn’t resist the silly title. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

Gangsters Have Feelings…?

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, smoking, one sexual reference

Word Count: 1017

Summary: John calls on (Y/N) when he’s having trouble coping with the decisions of his brother, Tommy. (Y/N)’s quite honestly surprised to see this side of him.

(Y/N) took the moment of pause in the conversation she was having to wonder just how in the hell she’d wound up in this position. She never could have expected that her on the fly befriending of John Shelby one evening at the Eden Club would have led to showing up at his hotel room because he needed someone to talk to.

Hell, this brought on a whole new question…gangsters have feelings?

She hadn’t thought of it before, but it was becoming clear that they did…or this one did at least.

From the second she entered the suite, she knew that John was upset. She felt it. The usual energy that he exuded whenever she was around him was missing, and he wasn’t paying much care to his appearance at the moment. His usual three-piece suit had been exchanged for a pair of slacks and a messily tucked in undershirt.

The reason for his calling became apparent the second she asked him what had been going on. A simple question opened the floodgates of complaints of how his brother had been running the business; putting a much younger cousin in a more respectable position while he and his other brother were expected to keep up with the unmentionable side of things.

“You know I never had any ambition to sit in an office and jerk around over some fucking papers, but it’s just that…that’s me own fucking brother making the calls. I mean…it’s gotta count for something, right?” John started talking again, making (Y/N) focus back in on the conversation.

“It should,” she offered a comment, letting him know that she was actively listening to his plight.

John sighed and carded his fingers through the longer parts of his hair before bringing the cigar he’d been smoking up to his lips. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke out in a steady stream as he peered through the window. “And now Michael’s in the office and Arthur’s in charge of London, and I ain’t got nothin’. Tommy doesn’t care though because all I am is some fuckin’ yes man who takes care of errands for him.”

“I…” (Y/N) stopped herself before she could continue. She didn’t really know what to say. Talking hadn’t been placed that high on the agenda of their previous visits. (Y/N) didn’t really know anything about John Shelby…other than he most certainly knew what to do in bed. So she wasn’t sure what type of can of worms she could open by giving improper advice. She could tell that he was looking for it though; advice. “I’m sure that Tommy cares about you, John. You’re his brother,” she started off with a vague statement.

“That’s about all I am,” John mumbled as he shook his head, his eyes focused on the floor.

(Y/N) sighed as she stood from the chair she’d been sitting on. She silently moved over to the window sill he’d been sitting on and took a seat on the corner of it that had been left open. “Look, John…” she paused again, trying to come up with how she was going to finish the rest of her statement. She hated that she didn’t know exactly what to say. “I don’t know much detail about the area of business that you and your family work in, but I do know the man that you are. I know that you care, that you give your all to what you’re doing, and that you’re damn good at it.” She didn’t take his eyes off of him after she finished speaking, watching for any little movement he might make.

Instead of saying anything, John just shook his head. It didn’t seem as though he was shaking off her statement, but rather shaking his head at the situation in general.

“John,” she spoke his name like a breath, hoping that he’d at least look at her. She was really struggling with what more she could add in to help the situation. There had to be some reason he called her to come over, right?

Thankfully, her attempt worked, and he lifted his downtrodden eyes up to match hers. The hopeless expression that was etched into his features made her frown, and she couldn’t stop from reaching out and cupping his cheek with her hand. She brushed her thumb against his skin while keeping eye contact, hoping that her comforting actions would make up for the fact that she had no clue of what to say.

Some time - (Y/N) wasn’t even sure how much - passed before she spoke again. “John, I’m sorry…I want to help, but I’m struggling with what more I should add,” she finally came clean, explaining her internal dilemma before she sent a sympathetic look his way.

“You comin’ here is help enough, love,” he answered her, leaning into her touch. His statement made the smallest smile form on (Y/N)’s face, and that alone helped him start to forget about his woes.

“I…um…” she stuttered over her words as she tired to think of what to say next.

“Please stay with me tonight,” John - thankfully - cut her off. The sentence, which was usually asked as a question, was spoken by the Birmingham gangster as a statement.

“You want me to?” she checked before giving her answer.

“I need you to,” he answered with a reworded version of her statement.

(Y/N) thought for a moment. This question - that John had been asked her many times before - sounded different now. He needed her in a way that he hadn’t before. The thought of that made her heart start to beat faster.

“Will you?” he asked after a few beats had passed.

“I will,” she nodded, sending him a smile.

“Thank you,” he breathed, taking her by surprise as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She didn’t pull back from it though, immediately kissing him back. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he pulled away just enough to say before his lips were on hers again.

**taglists are added in the reblogs!

MASTERLIST

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby blurb #john shelby imagine #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

[butchsophiewalten]

03/16/24 Twitter Space Recap

There was a (pretty long!) twitter space yesterday, feat. Martin & Eva, with a later arrival of Crystal, and a (relatively brief) appearance from Coral. Kyle was going to join, but was experiencing technical some problems, so ended up sitting this one out.

-Martin starts the space proper by asking Eva to post some "Jack Walten Photoshoot" images he made back in May of 2022. Here they are:

-Someone asks if Martin could possibly release unfiltered versions of the Walten Files episodes, and Martin said that at one point, back in 2020, he sent HD versions of episodes 1 & 2 to Eva, but later deleted them, thinking 'why would I bother keeping this around, it's all on my computer anyway,' and then his computer died, and they were lost. He says he thinks he has an HD version of TWF3, but that for TWF4, the VHS filter was applied to the scenes individually before the episode was edited together, so there is no 'HD cut' of the entire episode.

-Martin reads a question, "Is it possible you could describe what happened in the Welcome to Bon's Burgers trailer? I swear I saw it back in 2020 after Sagan Hawkes released his his video." and answers, "Uh, the Welcome to Bon's Burgers trailer was basically like, uh, a very low-quality, movie-style trailer with like, royalty free stock trailer music that was like, really action-packed. And it was like, 'We can stop him, Sophie! Welcome to Bon's Burgers!', and it was so cool. I'm not making this up, this is literally what the trailer was like."

-Martin and Eva joke back and forth about Sophie doing really cheesy action movie stuff in the WtBB trailer, like saying 'fuck you!' to Bon, and throwing a grenade at him. Eva than starts explaining some context for those jokes, saying, "Back in 2021, we like, desperately tried to, like, make Sophie this, like, badass epic horror protagonist, and it- it's just really funny, because that's just not who she is, at all. She's just some loser!"

Martin laughs, saying, "We were talking- we were like, she would not be like this, she would not be like this at all, she would be so awkward."

Eva responds, "She's literally just some awkward, like, mentally unwell loser. She wouldn't be this, like, badass epic hero."

Martin responds, "I think it was- in my opinion, that stemmed pretty much from like, Walter White, because we were on like, our peak Breaking Bad phase. And it was like, Walter White originally was so awkward, and loser, and then he becomes 'badass' and 'cool', and we wanted to, like, replicate that.

Eva laughs, saying, "...Now she's literally just some loser- loser girl. And she's like, way cooler now," to which Martin says, "I love Sophie, she's one of my favorite characters."

-Martin reads a question, incredulously, "'Out of the entire cast, who would like yaoi the most?' Nobody! Nobody would like yaoi the most... Well, maybe Brian."

-Somebody asks something about Showstoppers Inc, and Martin says that the series is currently on hold, so he can finish TWF5.

-Someone asks what Martin's favorite non-canon episode is, and he says it's definitely The Mysterious House. He says out of every episode of The Walten Files, The Mysterious House and TWF6 are probably tied for his favorite. He talks a bit more about it, saying, "I know it's not the best- Maybe it hasn't aged perfectly, but just- it just has that vibe. It just has a really cool vibe, that I really dig."

Eva responds saying, "It's such a fun episode. I like how it just all goes to shit.", to which Martin asks, "Wait, are you talking about Six, or The Mysterious House?" and Eva replies, "Well, both. They both go to shit."

Martin says "Yeah. Technically, Six- we've talked about this in private, but Episode 6 is very inspired in The Mysterious House. Like, I wanted to have that feeling The Mysterious House had, because I really love that."

-Eva reads a question asking what Edd & Molly's relationship was like, and she says she likes to think of them as siblings that just fight all the time. Martin agrees, saying he thinks it happens a lot that Molly is really annoying, and Edd gets angry with her very easily.

-Felix's new VA, Connor, sends some audio to Martin and tells him to share it with the space. Transcribed, it went as follows:

"Uh, hey, Jack, it's Felix. You probably won't be able to answer your answering machine, it said it was full, but it's still letting me leave a message. I'm not entirely sure- I already called the police, uh, nothing's wrong, uh. Well- there is something wrong, I- I can't take your kids home. I'm drunk. Uh, and- you've gotta be pissed out of your mind right now, that's- that's fine. Uh, I'm sorry. And if there's a way- way I can make it up to you- I know, that, like, why the hell would you trust me, after I fucked up the first time, but, I tried to take Edd and Molly home, bad idea. I swerved a bit- we didn't- nothing crashed, nothing happened, I just- I lost my balance. The kids seem okay, I hope they are. They didn't seem to notice, but, in that instance, I just- I couldn't do it. I can't. So, uh, if you can, just- I'm near Saint Joanne's right now, y'know, the forest near section 95, but. Uh- hang on, hang on, kids, give me a minute. They're trying to get my attention. We pulled over on the side- Luckily there was a payphone- there was like a gas station maybe a walk over from the highway. Ope, and they're coming out, they want to say hi to you. Well, I'm gonna hang up now, 'cause I don't have the- Hang on! I'm just gonna hang up. Uh, I am so sorry. I- I really am. And again, if there's anything I can do, if there's a future favor you need, I will- not fuck it up. I'd be fucking foolish to. I'm just so embarrassed, I'm sorry."

Martin was surprised that the audio was so genuine and sad, since he hadn't listened to it before playing it on the space, and thought it was going to be kind of joke.

-Eva reads a question, "'Which character would be into some real good yuri?' Jenny."

-Martin talks about "Raw Bunny", a character which originates from The Walten Archives. He says there were originally going to be two dolls, "Raw Bunny" and "Raw Tammy", and that Edd was going to possess Rocket, and Molly was going to possess Tammy. He has no explanation for why they were called "Raw".

-Martin asks Eva if there's any autistic characters in The Walten Files, and she answers, "Uh, Sophie, I guess, Maybe?"

-Eva reads a question, "'Would Sophie read yuri and yaoi?' I don't think she knows what those are." to which Martin says, "Do you think Sophie would respond, like, 'I've never listened to that band'?"

-Someone asks for character birthdays, and Martin tries to joke that Jack and Rose's birthdays are both on February 31st, but misspeaks and says "21st", which later lead to this very funny twitter interaction:

-Eva reads a question, "What did Sophie do in college?", which leads Coral (who has joined the space by now) to say they don't think Sophie ever went to college. Martin says, "She did. She did go into college, but she got kicked out, because she shaved one of her colleagues' head bald... Like, Sophie really fucking hated this one girl in college, so one day, at night, she goes to her bedroom and starts shaving her head." The original question never gets answered.

-Martin keeps talking about Sophie, saying, "I can't remember if it was in school or college, but I had it written down that she broke someone's arm one time, because the person was bullying her." Then a couple minutes later, goes, "Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember! Yes, it was in school. I had it written down, because I remember, uh, this was after- of course, I can't get too much into it, because we do cover it in the series, but it was after the crash that someone was bullying her, and since she wasn't in a really good headspace right now, she broke a kid's arm. And that's how she got kicked out of school. I don't think she ever, like, returned to school after that."

Coral responds, "She was forever just wandering," and Martin says, "That is very Sophie Walten. Sophie Walten is always just wandering."

-Eva asks, "Which Walten Files character would've had an emo phase?" and Martin says, "If we were talking like, a year or two ago, I would've said Sophie, but now I think- uh, probably... y'know what? Ignoring, like, the time period and everything, if a character were around to have an emo phase, I think it would be Rosemary, since Rosemary's, like, the most artistic. She would just be like an emo for like, a year or two, and then she would be like, the most jolly person ever."

-Coral jokes that it'd be really funny if Charles had an emo phase, and Eva says she thinks it's funny to imagine Jenny going through an emo phase, because she's such a colorful and friendly person. Crystal says "I feel like [Jenny's] the kind of person that will, like, fully commit to, like, a fashion aesthetic, like 110%." to which Martin responds, "Actually, yeah, definitely."

-Eva says, "I like to think Jenny is like, really good at fashion and shit, meanwhile Sophie just dresses like absolute shit." Coral says, "I don't think Sophie knows how to dress," to which Martin responds, "No, I think she doesn't, but I don't- I don't think she has, like, bad- I wouldn't say 'bad style', because I definitely don't think she has any style. But I don't think she wears bad combinations, y'know? She has like, 5%-2% style."

-Martin says, about Sophie, "Her brain is one ketchup tall."

-Martin asks everyone to say something they think Sophie would actually be really talented at. Eva jokes that she'd be good at "Eating spaghetti.", but Crystal says "I feel like she would, like, be a surprise good cook," and Martin says, "Yeah. I feel like, since she worked at the meat store, so I think she would know how to work with all that." Crystal jokes that someone would think her cooking is really good and ask her for a recipe, and she just completely mentally blanks.

-Eva reads a question, "Would Ashley and Sophie be friends?" and Martin says, "I think Sophie would hate Ashley. I think, Sophie- I think she would stand Ashley, but I think Sophie wouldn't be able to stand Ashley like, actually going blindly into a fucking- I think Sophie would be, like, really annoyed at Ashley's obliviousness, to me. I'm not saying Ashley is stupid, I don't think Ashley is dumb in any way, but I think Sophie wouldn't be able to relate to Ashley's, like, motivations and shit."

-They start joking about Sophie getting high? Martin says that she could never be allowed to get high, because she'd freak the fuck out and have the worst trip of her life. Martin says, "I think if Sophie got high, imagine she's, like, looking horrified at the door frame, and she's grabbing Jenny's hand, and she's like 'Jenny, Ronald Reagan's here. He arrived. He's taking me away, Jenny.''

Martin keeps going, "Imagine- imagine Sophie holds Jenny's hand, and she's like, 'Dude. Jenny- I cracked the case. I cracked the case. Jenny- Jenny, c'mere, I cracked the case. I think Bon killed Kennedy. I think Bo-Bon kill- Jenny I think Bon killed John F. Kennedy.'"

-They start talking about if Sophie would drink, and Martin says "I think Sophie drunk, like, at a party, like- imagine it's like, the only time she goes at a party, and it was just because she was, like, going with Jenny, who was invited. And she gets drunk, and then she's like, 'Uh, here's my car. This is my car.' and she doesn't even have a car. She's just trying to, like, break into a random car on the street."

Martin jokes, saying, "The entire friend group is like, talking about, like, 'aw, yeah, dude, y'know, when my grandma passed away, it was so sad,'- and then Sophie goes like 'Dude, when JFK died, it was like a national tragedy.'"

-[Eva] "Sophie would hate The Irishman. If she watched it."

[Martin] "She wouldn't watch twenty minutes of it! She would be like 'Jenny, I don't get this. I don't get this.'"

[Eva] "She would be like, 'I'm turning this off, this sucks.'"

[Martin, laughing] "And Jenny would be, like, so offended."

-Martin says, "I think Jenny would be more, like, artistic, and, like into experimental films. And Sophie would just watch, fucking, I don't know, fucking-" and Eva interrupts, saying, "Sophie would enjoy Adam Sandler movies if she was, like alive today. She would enjoy Adam Sandler movies." Martin laughs, saying, "Do you think Sophie would watch Ted and be like, 'Ohh, that's just like me...'?"

-Eva says, "I just had the worst idea. Sophie would, like, watch those stupid fucking Sigma Male movies, like Taxi Driver, and shit like that, and be like 'oh, that's me. that's me.' Martin laughs, saying, "That is so accurate! Imagine Sophie watching American Psycho, and for an entire week, like quoting the movie." then later says, "Imagine she does the fucking Taxi Driver cut, for like two days, and then starts crying because she regrets it."

-[Martin] "Someone- someone once said- Did I ever tell tell you, Eva and Crystal, that there was this one time when I was high, and I- I heard someone on Twitter going like, 'oh Sophie would love Weezer,' and I started crying. I started crying."

[Eva] "She would! Sophie would love Weezer!"

[Martin] "No! No she wouldn't! And I started crying, because I realized I failed as a creator."

-[Eva] "Someone asked, 'Does Jenny get high?' Yeah, Jenny would get high. Jenny would be stoner."

[Martin] "Yeah. No- I think she- she was probably, like, back in like, the late 70's she was more of a stoner, but then, when she started living with Sophie, she kinda just, started like, just settling down. Into a jolly- Into a silly, jolly lifestyle."

-[Eva] "Sophie would get really irrationally angry over video games, I think."

[Crystal] "I feel like she wouldn't, like, say anything. She would just stare really angrily at the screen."

[Eva] "She would, like, pick up a thing on her desk and just crush it."

Martin says he wants to draw that, and later posts this:

-Eva reads a question asking what Sophie's fears are. Martin says, "I think Sophie's fears, um, to me- and, of course, I cannot explain where this originates from, because again, it's spoilers. But I think one of Sophie's, like, fears she has- I wouldn't say it would be 'losing control', but not being able to decide what happens to her. Like, the idea of not being able to have control of her future. To me, I feel."

-Eva says "[Bon] would occasionally vomit blood, as a treat."

-Martin says "I think Sophie- I mean, I don't think she would be completely competitive, but I think Sophie would secretly be a bit competitive, when it comes to playing games. And Jenny would be more like 'Hey, it's just having fun!' and that's just because Jenny is like, the best gamer ever."

-Someone asks if Jack or Rose would experience road rage, and Martin says, "A lot of, uh, Jack, when I first wrote Jack, was a lot of inspiration from Me and my dad, because both me and my dad have had to deal with anger issues, and we both had to, like, y'know, go treat that. But I will forever remember how my dad would act during fucking road rage. I think Jack would act like that, just- Jack would fucking punch the fucking steering wheel, going 'God FUCKING DAMN IT!', and he would like, get out of the car, and- because this is something my dad would do- Jack would get out of the car and walk to the fucking thing that's causing the traffic jam. And go, like, 'Hurry the FUCK up, HURRY UP!'"

Martin goes, "I think Jack would go up to the driver that's causing the traffic jam, with the most polite, gentle look on his face. He'd ask him to, y'know, put the window down. And then he would poke his head through the window, and he would go, "Heya, man. KILL YOURSELF!!!!"

-Martin goes, "Why do Jenny and Sophie say 'fuck' so many times in BunnyFarm?" to which Crystal responds, incredulously, "You're the one who wrote the script, what do you mean!?"

-Martin says, "I think Sophie would eat the Forever Weed Brownie."

-Eva asks if Sophie would have the same anger issues as Jack, and Martin says, "No, I don't think she would have anger issues, but I do think she would have a big- a big fuckin' temper."

Eva responds, going "Well, no, she fucking broke some kid's arm and saved some girl's head, she probably does have, like, some anger-" and Martin goes, "Well- yeah, yeah. To be fair, yeah."

-Martin says, "I've told this to Eva, Sophie was a shoplifter, for a while."

-Martin says he changed Sophie's height again (For what, like the third time?) She's about 5'6-5'7 now. Jenny's height has increased proportionally, Martin doesn't give a number for her, but says she's still taller Felix, who's 5'7.

-Eva talks about how she was asked to sing a song as Bon for an episode, and the song Martin had sent her had some sexual undertones, so he changed it to be more kid-friendly and told her to perform the new lyrics. But she fucked up, and just sang the normal song, so they're just using that audio anyway, and it's really funny to both of them.

-Martin says, "One idea I had, back in TWF2, that I really want to repurpose someday- Originally, there was going to be a funny scene where Kevin, Hilary and Ashley would, like, play around with the robots, and dress them up, and make them do fucking goofy poses and shit like that. And I think, If i ever get the chance to do it again, I would probably do something like that... I would really love doing a scene like that, in The Walten Files. The caretakers just absolutely doing goofy shit in K-9."

-Eva talks about how she's a bit mildly uncomfortable with cutesy ship art of Felix and Linda, and asks Martin if that's weird of her. Martin says, "I don't think Felix was abusive, per se. I don't Felix, like, abused of Linda. Y'know, I don't think we was, just, uh- intentionally taking advantage of Linda's emotional state, for his own benefit. But I do think Felix was a very neglectful person, who- the way I see it, he was just with Linda just because, y'know? He didn't really- It was just a thing of, 'Oh, there's a guy and there's a girl. It makes sense, yeah, it should be a couple, yay,' Y'know? And the way I've always seen it is that Linda and Felix had, had, a good dynamic. But I don't think it was a good romantic dynamic.

I think they just- They took what could have been a could've been a potential good friendship as romantic feelings, and that was their downfall. And by being a couple they didn't really help each other, and Felix being neglectful eventually took a toll on Linda. Which- is bad! It's a very bad behavior. And I don't blame people who consider that to be emotional abuse, but to me I don't feel like Felix ever had that intention. But it's not a good couple, because they're not healthy for each other."

-Martin continues, "I feel like Felix didn't know how to be- Felix didn't have a couple before Linda. And I feel like, to me, Felix never properly learned how to love? So, to me, it would be like, uh, he wouldn't be emotionally connected with Linda. He wouldn't open up to her, and he wouldn't really try to be close to her. Both in an emotional and a physical way. It would just be like, every now and then, that he remembers, 'oh yeah, my wife', and just, like- a kiss, every one in 500 years."

-"I do think that Linda was a very independent person. And does- she wasn't like, too focused on, 'oh, how much does Felix care about me?', she was just, like, doing her own thing. I think it was later down the line that she started realizing how neglectful Felix was, and started, like, actually trying to reconnect with him, in a way. And since Felix had become worse and worse, he just kinda kept brushing her away until he ended up confronting her, and ended up hurting her feelings in a really bad way."

-Martin reads a question, asking, "Why did Felix start drinking, anyway?" and answers, "Uh, without revealing it too much, I think the reason he started drinking was because, uh, there was a problem, to Felix, that was starting to build up, and he started isolating himself on that problem. And, uh, when he started isolating himself, he started losing all the things he had, to like- all the shoulders he could lean on. So, without nobody he could actually go to, to reach out to them, he started drinking. Because it kinda numbed away those feelings, it kinda helped him control all the frustrations he had about himself, and the kind of person he was. And thus, at first he was just, like, 'Oh, it's just, every time I feel some kind of hatred towards myself and the person I am.' And it kept escalating, to the point that-- The moment he started fully hating himself was the moment he started completely drinking all the time. To kinda, just numb away those feelings."

Martin says, "To me, uh, the way I see it is like The Shining, where they refer to alcohol as a medicine. And to me, I feel like Felix saw it as a medicine, too. Like, as a way that, hey, it's an easy way to be happier with the person you are and the decisions you've made."

-"I feel like, in a way, the way I see Felix as a character- I like to think that he's someone who isn't happy, wasn't happy with the kind of person he became and the kind of decisions he took, because I think he saw a lot more potential in him that he didn't- that he didn't actually use. And, it's like, I feel like that frustration was the one of the reasons he got into drinking. Because it's like, just the idea of, 'Hey, I wasted so many years away not doing the stuff I wanted to do. So what's the point anymore?', Y'know."

-"Felix has- In my opinion, a very realistic, kind of like- I want to say a middle-aged crisis. As like, a way of being depressed over- I like to think Felix is sad that he didn't get to savor his young age very much. Because, to me, it's like, one second it was him and Jack going, like, 'Hey! We gotta do this project, and it's going to be so cool, so great and everything!', and then the other second it's like, having to worry about the paperwork, and the idea that- Yeah, sure, Jack and him are still best friends, but Y'know, Jack has his family now. Jack has other priorities, it's not the funny, 'Hey, we're young, we have our whole future ahead of us!' because now the future is happening, and Felix doesn't know what the fuck he's about to do, what the fuck is going to happen to him. And thus, he instantly thinks it's all doomed, it's too late for him to choose a different way to be, a different person to be with, a different goal to have. He thinks that all the decisions he made lead him to this, and he can't change it, because it's too late for that. I think that's what kinda dooms him, in a way."

-Martin says, "To me, when [Felix] had a low point, instead of trying to get himself out of it, he just accepted defeat, because he thought he couldn't get any lower than that. And, there was another rock bottom, and another one, and another one." He says, "I'm always going to say this- and this is kinda like, a message from The Walten Files- It's not a priority, but it's a message that you cannot live a future you do not want to live. You cannot force yourself to accept and settle down for a future you don't want to live, because you're only going to live in constant- you're going to be miserable with yourself! And you're going to be constantly looking to the past, instead of trying to fix your future.

And I think the main flaw with Felix- and you can even notice now, in the current content, that Felix looks a lot in the past, and he's stuck in the past, and he's so unhappy with the place he is right now, that he doesn't try to get himself out of it. And it's just like, "Ah, maybe if I just keep doing what I'm doing, it'll just magically get better on it's own!', and that's not how life is, so yeah."

-Martin and Eva talk about how it's kinda funny, how for them, Felix's hangups have served as a sort of cautionary tale, because his experiences and struggles are so human and so relatable, that his behavior helps them to understand why you need to work against the kind of thinking he succumbs to.

-Eva goes, "I can't wait until we can have long ass discussions like this, publicly, about fucking Jack." and Martin goes, "God! Jack is so cool, too!"

-Some asks if there's any "canon trans rep" in The Walten Files. Martin says, a little regretfully, that No, there aren't, not because he thinks there shouldn't be transgender people in The Walten Files, but because he doesn't go out of his way to think about applying those sorts of labels to characters as he makes them, he just lets them develop naturally, and sometimes ends up applying concepts like that depending on what he thinks feels natural for them. He says, "I never actually touch the territory of, like, their gender identity and all that. So, I guess you could headcanon any character you want as trans. That's totally fine."

-Martin says, "Felix, his main issue was not talking to people and getting help when he needed it the most, and I feel like the way I wrote it stemmed down from the way that a lot of- especially in that era- there was a lot of toxic masculinity around the idea that you cannot show weakness around other people. That you have to be, like, the strong person that takes care of everyone else. You have to be, like, the man in the group, the man in the family, and you cannot, like- you cannot be vulnerable towards anyone else. And I feel like Felix kinda grew up around that mentality, and he isolated his issues from everyone else, because he felt like showing any kind of, uh, vulnerability and just any weakness at all would make him lesser.

And I feel like that problem amplified itself when he met Jack, who was this collected, smart person, who always knew what he had to say. He was charming, he always had an answer for everything, and Felix felt like- if he- if he showed vulnerability towards Jack, Jack would see him as someone lesser than him, y'know? As someone weak. Not worthy of being Jack's friend, y'know?"

-Eva reads a question that asks, "What're some genuine flaws about Jack, besides his anger issues? Has he ever done something he ended up regretting?". Martin pauses for a while, then says, pretty definitely, "Yeah. He does."

Martin then says, "I feel like we could answer some flaws about personality. I think, like, the one thing I could say is that Jack also stems a lot from that mentality of, like, that you shouldn't be weak, you shouldn't show vulnerability to anyone. And I feel like, uh, he- the only person to me, that Jack was ever vulnerable to, the only person that Jack could tell 'I'm scared', to was Rosemary. And, uh, I feel like Jack is a person who wants to always be in control of everything. He cannot lose control, because when he loses control he feels weak, and he doesn't like feeling weak.

And, uh- He kinda, like- One of the bad things that happened, is that, to me, I feel like he kinda passes those bad habits to Sophie, who also doesn't like the idea of losing control. And doesn't like the idea of showing other people that she cries, and that she's vulnerable. And I feel like that stemmed a lot because of Jack."

-"I think one of the worst things with Jack is that he has a problem with communicating stuff. He cannot, for the life of him, just let out a vulnerable side of him. And the way I wanted to show that is that he's always shown smiling in photos, he never tries to frown. He never tries to show any other face, other than just him being okay, him being happy."

-[Eva] "I find it cool how, like, Jack wants himself to be perceived as like, this ideal dad type-guy, which is also how Felix-"

[Martin] "The perfect- the perfect person."

[Eva] "... In reality, Jack would be like, very- very flawed. Very, like-- I don't know how to describe it. His brain would be very, like- emotionally he'd be very fucked up. Not, like, evil- I mean like. his emotions and shit, he has a really bad way of expressing them, and stuff like that."

[Martin] "He doesn't know. He doesn't know how to express his emotions. And to me, Jack, I feel like- I feel like one of Jack's greatest flaws is that, to him, everything is appearances. He really cares a lot about appearances, and he cares about looking like the perfect role model, like the fucking 1950's magazine, cut-clear perfect dad, and his cut-clear perfect family where everything is fine, and nothing can ever go wrong. That's one of, like, Jack's fears. But if we talk more about it, we'll go into spoiler territory!"

-They talk about how frustrating it is to be so interested in and passionate about these characters, but so little of their stories have made it to the audience so far, so they have to be really cagey about everything. Martin says, "I think, mostly because of Sophie, because to me, the way that Sophie is shown in The Walten Files 3, that's just scratching the surface. That's not an ounce of, like, her character. And I really, really want to show what she does, and how everything goes down, but I can't."

-[Eva, reading] "Which character's story goes the deepest? Which character has the most depth?"

[Martin, immediately.] "Jack. Definitely Jack. (pause) No- Jack and Sophie. I think it's Jack and Sophie."

-Martin says, "Bon is so- a much worse person than Felix, but I really like that he's not as unlikable, because Felix knows what he's doing wrong, and apologizes and says he wants to change, but he doesn't. Whereas Bon is a delusional prick, who fucking- doesn't regret anything. And that's so cool to me." Later, he says, "I wouldn't say [Bon] has regret, but he has a lot of, like, emotion about what he's doing. He's not like a cold, heartless killer."

-Martin answers one last question, "What was your original plan for The Walten Files?" and answers, "The original plan for The Walten Files was actually very different, because it was- first of all, I had two original ideas. Originally, it was going to be just a compilation of, uh, footage of Welcome to Bon's Burgers, and I was just gonna plaster a VHS effect on it, and just be like, 'hey, look at all this cool stuff!' But then, when I scrapped that idea, there was The Walten's Archive, which was gonna be, like, a documental, that was, like, a retelling of the events that happened. Like, a 1990s documental, like, a dramatization of everything that happened, and that's why you'd see everything in like, a cinematic light and everything. And it was going to be, like, ten episodes. And I still have that document, and some of the ideas carried over to the actual stuff, but not all of them."

-Eva wants to answer one last question, too, saying, "Someone asked, 'Is "Bon" a 'it's for the greater good' type of person when it comes to his killings?' I'd say yes. Whenever he's like, killing someone, he definitely knows that they're afraid and that they don't want to die, but he'd kinda like, think of it as 'Oh, you don't know what's good for you,' or 'This is for the greater good,' like, when he's killing them. That's kinda like, a way he would justify it in his mind. Like he would just think, 'Oh, yeah, you want this, you just don't know it,' like shit like that."

#the walten files #twitter space recap #sorry this took so long I Hope you Understand Why

[kujakumai]

would you like to elaborate on the "catastrophic mommy issues"? I'd love to hear what your thoughts are on that lol

Thief King is a child raised by a mass of vengeful tortured souls in the ruined basement where they all died, all of whom are in effect a stand-in for family/community/parents. They are all TKB has left, and they are highly protective of him; they seem not entirely within their right minds, not capable of competent childcare, and they give him explicit instructions on how to destroy and take over the world, which he follows enthusiastically.

I think about this a lot, like a lot a lot, and while we don't see much I think its gotta be a very tangled dynamic. When writing him I tend to use "mom issues" or general references to his mom as an emotional stand in because I think she's probably the most likely person he'd remember clearly when he needs a real face, but that's not necessary. All of Kul Elna is Mom for these purposes.

There is a lot going on here, for example:

>Kul Elna does not seem to leave the temple unless accompanied, or at very least they prefer to stay there. This means TKB probably spent a significant portion of his childhood in the same ruins and possibly the same room where he watched everyone die. Cool! Great!

>Kul Elna appears to be only partially corporeal, limited in their ability to do much besides menace, and TKB says they are "in hell" (unclear what that means). I do not think they are up to the daily tasks of feeding, bathing, or taking care of a small child. I think he probably grew up as an urchin mainly in squalor.

The closest real-life analogue to this is, probably, simply a child in the care of someone who is ill or disabled such that they cannot effectively take care of even themselves without support; so you have a situation where no one has done anything wrong, and this family loves each other very much, and the only real culprit is the society that failed them. But you're still going to end up with a kid who is not getting their needs met, is in a situation that is often stressful and sometimes scary, and that will lead to a rapid Adultification where the kid takes on the role of steward without ever having a proper childhood.

>The Zork-raising instructions were given to TKB by Kul Elna. He tells us this. I am less concerned by Kul Elna's obviously Zork-influenced plan to destroy everything than I am its effect on a 16 year old boy who loves them very much because they're all he has left in the entire world. When did they bring this up? Is it recent? Has it been an ongoing plan for years--has TKB effectively been raised on the idea that he is to be Egypt's own destined apocalypse maiden? How fucked up would that be?

Fandom is hesitant, I think, to ascribe anything malicious to Kul Elna or suggest that their relationship with TKB is sinister--which, for the record, I don't think it is, I think this fucked-up little family has nothing but love for this kid in the depths of whatever humanity they have left--because Kul Elna gets such an unjust treatment in canon it makes us incandescent. Yet the same would apply to TKB--if they want the world in ruins and him at the top, how could he even think anything different? After everything the pharaoh did to them, and to you, of the life they deprived you of? Impossible to suggest something different. You can't tell him they're wrong. What's that old softer world bit; I am a pacifist, and I will be a pacifist until I die, or someone threatens my mother.

>TKB does not need survivors guilt to be an unfailingly loyal Mama's Boy to his ghost family (Ghost's Boy?) but he's got to have it. A simultaneous immense guilt for getting out when no one else did; the immense loss of being left behind, like they all went to become this without him; the weight of being the only one left, the only one who can take revenge not only for you but for them, and if you fail then no one will remember any of their names, or yours. One chance. Avenge them or die a nobody. Don't fuck this up. It's your responsibility, like it or not, because no one else can help, and no one else can help because of what your enemies did to them, which is why you need to do it. It's almost self-justifying.

If you want me to editorialize, I don't think he actually cares much about ruling the world, nor does that goal make sense. I think in the back of his little brain he thinks that if he wins he finally gets to join them somehow.

tldr; I think TKB's relationship with whatever the hell Kul Elna has going on is way, way more complicated and nuanced than even he is consciously aware of and you can love someone very much and still fuck them up immensely (arguably a major them of ygo itself). TKB's has such catastrophic mommy issues he literally tries to end the world. We are talking literal apocalyptic mom issues. Cataclysmic.

#meta