#but its time to recognise that all three of them (and also canon and also the fandom) are making shoko smaller/less important than she is

[salad-storm]

I love sashisu because they all very much love each other and are best friends but the shoko erasure is so blatant that it makes for a very interesting dynamic. Like yeah obviously she was part of everything that happened. Not that any of them would realise if you asked them though.

#shoko included btw. shes like yeah im not getting involved in whatever those two have going on <- literally already involved #this isnt talking bad abt sashisu btw. i love sashisu. i think theyre so so interesting #like theyre so questionable! they love each other! none of them have Actually Spoken to one another in 10 years! #me when i was there too idiot #ik theres jjk takes where shoko isnt as important to stsg/just there to be the lesbian friend and i hear those takes! #and reject them immediately. #look i just rlly love shoko and i think sashisu are soo cool and fun and horrible and queerplatonic #but its time to recognise that all three of them (and also canon and also the fandom) are making shoko smaller/less important than she is #we have all that stsg drama and shoko (there for it) just goes yeah okay. bye i guess. #god i just love them.. trio of all time fr... its very late so this probably doesnt make sense but whateverrrr #gojo satoru #getou suguru #geto suguru #ieri shoko #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sashisu #sss trio #stormy in here #theyre my faves..

[thelightsandtheroses]

six. even the iron still fears the rot

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.

Chapter summary: the past comes back to haunt you leading to a drastic decision. Chapter warnings: angst, discussions and flashbacks to descriptions of cults, religion and cult behaviour, past emotional abuse, love bombing and manipulation, the cult leader is a dangerous person, one instance of physical violence, guilt, PTSD , there is the very briefest allusion to homophobia (not direct), flashbacks, discussions of death and canon typical violence, passing mention of being an orphan, breakups, reference to pregnancy (reader is a single mother).  Reader has a backstory but no physical descriptors. Word Count: 4.4k Notes -This is a big chapter, beginning a plot I have had planned for a long time and that I was so nervous about. I must thank the lovely @joelsgreys encouraged and supported me to write this idea from the start. The chapter title is from Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain (who can you believe I only discovered last week?!) Also I changed the image aesthetic a bit as I've loved seeing some other fics with this sort of three pic moodboard recently.

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“We need to talk about the Junction.”

In seven words, Beau and Sean have swept away every sense of security, of hope, of foolish optimism from you.

None of you speak as you unlock the library with shaking, sweaty hands. It takes three attempts to put the key in the lock, you can hear a strange sound, almost like an injured animal in the distance. The three of you walk in.

You lean against the wall, shutting your eyes as you try and centre yourself before you can look at your best friends’ faces.

“What’s happened?” you ask finally. "Why are you bringing up the past?"

Now is not then, you tell yourself. You are not that person anymore - you are a mother, you are stronger, more resilient. You repaired your cracks with gold. You are whole, you are different, you are you.

The Junction has no idea what they’re facing. If they’re here. If this is happening.

Sean reaches into his pocket and produces a small piece of paper. There’s a design on it, simple but familiar.

“Tommy and Joel found this less than five miles away on patrol. It was carved onto a tree.”

“Carved?”

“Yeah, so they took a sketch of it. They were asking around the Tipsy Bison about it, wondered if had seen the symbol before - knew it wasn’t Fireflies or FEDRA, guess it worried them. They showed it to me,” Beau says flatly. “I wondered if it was them, so I went straight to Sean. He said - he said it was, or he thinks it is. We need you to confirm it though.”

“It’s them, isn’t it?” Sean asks, his voice soft and eyes desperate for you to say no, to stop this nightmare in its tracks.

You can’t say it. You can only nod, meeting your best friend’s heartbroken eyes reluctantly.

“Scouting symbol,” you say quietly. ‘He designed it as a code but he designed a lot of things like that, I didn’t expect much  would come of it at the time. I guess -” You pause. “If they’re nearby then it sounds they lost the settlement and have been moving around. I can’t remember exactly what the symbol was meant to mean, but it was definitely for scouting, or to mark - to mark something.”

You thought you would have more time. Time to build something with Joel, to watch Gabriel become the man you know he will be. You had started to hope, to dream.

Dreaming has always been dangerous.

You’ve been on borrowed time for seventeen years.

You expected to panic, to feel more anxious or upset. You had thought you’d sob, fall apart on the floor like you have before, burn with the agony of it all. There’s ice running through you instead and a cool detachment. You don’t recognise your voice, don’t recognise your body. You’re gone, an observer watching a stranger so far away from reality.

“How soon can we get ammo, get supplies?” you ask.

“You can’t think we’re going to outrun this, sweetheart. Not when they’re less than five miles away,” Beau says, shaking his head.

“We’re fucked,” Sean whispers, “less than five miles this morning, they could be - shit. We can’t even run, can we? We’re fucked.” He looks down at his hands, rakes his hands over his hair.

Your past has finally come back to haunt you.

You should have just told Gabriel the truth about his father.  You should have told him where you took him away from.

You should have told him a lot of things.

2004

“We are at a moment right now where the only thing we can do is change. The old ways failed us; we let our hate, our differences, our selfishness dictate our lives and we have all paid a price for this. In our loss, in their names, we stand at a junction and we have a choice right now. Will you listen to me? Will we move forward together and carve a new path, take the route to peace and away from the horrors we have seen?”

The world’s changed a lot in the last six months. Pandemics, death, a whole new dictionary where abbreviations like FEDRA, QZs mean something now and some many words have become redundant. There’s been a lot of death. Survival, that feels like the best outcome right now, living feels like something impossible.

They’ll find a cure soon. The smartest people left in the world are working on it.

They’ll find a cure soon.  This can’t go on like this forever.

They’ll find a cure soon. There’s no other option.

One day in a year or two, you’ll look back on this with Sean and giggle. Do you remember the winter of 2003? Do you remember when we had to live in a QZ and when mushrooms became sinister for a short time? It’ll be something to tell your grandchildren, huddled around a fire and after a long and normal life. You’ll go back to cinemas and dinner at restaurants, to finally getting broadband installed, to a future. There will be scars, of course, but society will move on before you’ve even recognised those.

Humanity will survive, it will endure this. You have to believe that.

There are rumours though - rumours of life in and outside the QZ being lawless, of the loss of society, that humanity isn’t thriving right now.

You had different plans for this year. You didn’t expect to be in a small one bedroomed apartment with Sean. You didn’t expect to be an orphan - or an assumed one at least. Maybe they’re still alive. You hope they are, hope their flight made it to their location, that Cordyceps isn’t so bad over there. You wonder what their lives are like - a two-week vacation that’s turned into months. You’ll laugh about this with them one day.

You live in denial because it’s easier. Because one day this will be all a bad memory. You’ll be back on the path towards the life and career you were working towards, and the months spent picking up shifts in a laundromat and community kitchen to live in a run-down building will soon be a distant memory.

You meet him on a Tuesday. You’re at the laundromat and reading a battered library book, enjoying this rare moment when you’re alone,  when he walks in.

There’s something about him that immediately commands your attention. He’s tall, muscular and carries himself with confidence.

“Hi,” he says, noticing you watching him.  “Haven’t seen you before.”

You nod, placing your book down quietly. “There’s only one dryer working, I’m afraid.” You’re not sure if there’ll ever be more than one dryer working at this point - there’s a shortage of parts and tumble dryers are hardly a priority right now. The one working dryer will just become a Frankenstein of other machine parts, of hope and duct tape until it finally dies. Maybe there will be a cure by then though.

“That’s no worry. I’m Ethan,” the man replies with a faint smile.

You say your name in response and he repeats it like he’s trying to store it in his memory. You feel exposed, perceived in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

You suspect though. You suspect that somehow an axis has marginally tilted, a change has occurred.

You don’t believe in love at first sight. Life isn’t like a movie after all, or if it is, then right now it’s only a horror film. You don’t believe that you can just fall someone instantly. Or you didn’t.

It’s magnetic, his energy, his charisma. You love how his voice sounds, the way his hair falls slightly into piercing eyes. He speaks with care, looks at you like he really cares what you think to his words. He reminds you of the men you’d fantasise about meeting while in college. You thought you’d just wander into a coffee shop on your way to your next seminar and there he’d be.

Even here in a dingy and dirty laundromat, you feel those butterflies.

You’re sure you’ve never met anyone like him before and you have a sense that you will never meet anyone else like him.

You have no idea how right you are.

“Is it a church thing? Really?” Sean asks, taking a gulp of water before leaning against the kitchen sink. “I thought you said after your parents -”

“I don’t think it’s really religious,” you say, “Ethan told me it was more about a sense of self than anything theistic. It’s like a support group from what he said.”

“Thought you hated therapy.”

“Yeah, well, then the world ended.”

“Touché. Can’t you go alone?”

“I could, but I don’t want to,” you say, a teasing smile as you meet your best friend’s eyes.  “I want you to meet Ethan. Tell me what you think.”

You need Sean to meet Ethan because it feels like Ethan could be important. You want Sean to like him, to approve of him. You need to him to.

“I don’t know, hon, it sounds - I don’t know what it’s about.”

“Sean, it’s just a workshop, what harm could it possibly do?”

Sean cocks an eyebrow and sighs. “Fine, we’ll check it out. How bad can it be?”

Famous last words.

“The Junction is here. Humanity has failed in our mission, but it isn’t all lost. We can start afresh, become something better. Every one of us in this room has hope, has what is needed to rebuild our world to save us. The threats of cordyceps, of violence cannot stand in our way …  we must not let these evil forces win.”

It starts so slowly. You become friends as he frequents the launderette more and more. You get to know each other..

You’re not what sure to expect from his workshops but his words are compelling. He makes sense. What he says is rational - until it strays into something else, but it’s still got that root of logic. He’s just stressed, you reason, more people are talking about the workshops.

You fall for him.

He brings you a bunch of roses to the laundrette. Roses.

You haven’t seen roses since the outbreak, you’re not sure anyone has ever bought you flowers like this. You have no idea how he’s got them, but he’s got them for you.

He’s so smart, so compassionate and it’s more than that, he really listens to you. Falling in love with Ethan is the easiest thing in the world.  You hadn’t spent much time dating before the outbreak, had been too afraid in the immediate aftermath. You think Ethan might be the first man you’ve ever fallen in love with.

He starts to invite to sit with him at his workshops, places an arm around you when you speak in sessions. You swell with pride because out of everyone, he’s chosen you.

So you drag Sean to more workshops, you bring friends from your apartment building. You want more people to hear Ethan because he’s changed your life. What else could he do for people?

Time passes. Ethan’s language starts to change again. It’s starting to shift from collective processing of the trauma, the unceasing horror of the last year to something different. It’s less about you all and more about Ethan, about his visions and him. Ethan knows the way through the Junction.

He’ll lead you all through.

It’s your fault really, what happens next. You set everything in motion. You’re almost mugged on the way home from the launderette one night. His next workshop talks about the pain of this post-cordyceps world, of the way FEDRA encourages lawlessness to steer us from the right path, towards evil and ruin.

He says that the QZ is actively fighting against you all need to do. It is fighting for the wrong turn at the next junction. That can’t happen. You can’t raise a family here, make a life, not when society continues to fall apart in front of you. You’re scared walking to your apartment at night now, so you think he must be right. There’s the possibility of something better with him.

So when Ethan says maybe it’s time to leave the QZ, you think he might be right. Of course you’d go with him, where else could you go? You beg Sean to come with you, you’re terrified he’ll die when the QZ falls otherwise.

That’s another mistake.

2005

“The thing is, it’s not about cordyceps. Not really. That was only the vehicle to lead us here, to show me the way forward. We must build afresh here. I have been spoken to and I know this - this community is the only way humanity survives. I will lead us to ensure that humanity is not lost. We had to leave the QZ because the agents of chaos and evil were there, they knew what we needed to do, they knew my mission. We have a chance here. We have a chance here to grow and survive and thrive. This is my mission, our collective goal. The Junction will succeed where FEDRA failed, where the old ways. I received a message; we’re heeding it by being here. The hard work is being done now. The Junction is the future.”

The Junction move to what was once a gated community many miles outside of the QZ. It’s self-sufficient to a point, with high walls, generators, and access to facilities. In some ways,  it’s almost like a miniature QZ- it’s better though.

 A former resident suggested the location to Ethan and he said he knew right there and then it was where you all need to be. He said it was a sign; that he was told everyone needed to be there.

It’s going to be idyllic. That’s what he’s promised. It’s what you believe.

You love him.

You marry Ethan on a summer’s day to the entire Junction as witnesses. You are so in love, you don’t see the looming clouds, the storm ahead. It’s a whirlwind romance, a sign of hope in this terrifying world. Your relationship, he tells you, is a symbol for all of his followers, it’s the lynchpin to keep your community together.

You read through his notes, they’re less like inspirational words and more like sermons now, but he says that’s fine. He says he’s spoken to the Divine . It’s his duty, his destiny. It’s yours to help him too.

You believe he is a good man. It’s your responsibility to help him lead everyone through this mess.

You love him.

When you’re in love you can excuse things though. Those subtle language shifts: we to I, debates on decisions to instructions, the focus on how you represent him as opposed to how you feel, what you want.

The pressure starts to constrict around your neck just a little. It’s all becoming too much, you’re not Ethan, you don’t know how to be a leader, or a leader’s wife.

You take every note he offers in the spirit of self-improvement , tweak every behaviour to get things right. Ethan needs this from you.

The Junction needs this from you.

You need to do better.

You love him.

And if you notice the way Sean’s brow furrows every time you speak or see him now, the way he shakes his head sometimes, or the way he opens his mouth but doesn’t seem able to say the words he wants to,  you put it aside. He’s struggling to adjust - that’s all.

It has to work here.  If it doesn’t, you know you will die outside the Junction, that the QZs will already be falling. Ethan tells you he’s heard on the radio numerous have already fallen. You can’t find the same messages on the radio when you try alone though. You believe him though.

You’re the last stand for humanity.

This is the only way.

Ethan is your only option.

You are so in love with him.

Time passes. There’s a bad harvest, the seeds don’t take. Ethan says, it’s a sign the group’s faith is false, that they are somehow poisoning the group. Ethan becomes obsessed with the fact he needs to root the traitor out.

You’re not allowed to proof-read his speeches anymore, not involved in his congregation. He won’t discuss his beliefs, his visions with you.

You are in love with him though.

His eyes on you feel searching, scathing, and sinister.

You start to feel scared; a twisting sense of sickness and fear that perhaps this, this isn’t going to be okay. This isn’t just an intentional community, is it?

You have doubts about Ethan too, about the glint in his eyes, about the way he sometimes talks about Sean or other congregants, about you. 

He doesn’t like you leaving the house these days because you keep saying the wrong things, keep unintentionally undermining his views. You stop answering the door to Sean, you listen to old radio broadcasts and wish you could be a better wife. A better believer.

After one sermon, he breaks the radio by throwing it against the living room wall. Your world becomes so much smaller again.

The doubts are getting louder now. Maybe the Junction is … no, that word belongs in movies and tv shows, in a time that’s long since passed. However, maybe it’s not what you thought. Maybe Ethan’s not what you thought.

It’s just … you really do love him, right?

“Is it you?” Ethan asks, eyes wild and desperate. You’re not sure what’s happened; one second you’re in your kitchen, sitting at the table and talking to him and now you can feel the cold wall against your back, Ethan’s hot breath so close to you, the feel of his hand on your hair. “Are you the reason why? Are you the reason why this is falling apart? You don’t believe, do you? It’s you, it’s you. You’re a curse, you’re a goddamned curse.” “Of course I believe, of course I do.” “You’re lying.” He’s right about that. Ethan is not who you thought. The Junction is dangerous. You need to leave. You know this now. You don’t want to die here.  You don’t want Sean to die here either; you bought him into this mess, the two of you need to leave this place soon.  Alive.

Jackson, WY, 2024

There isn’t much of a choice. You need suppliers, weapons, a plan before you can even think about leaving Jackson.

Beau’s right - this isn’t something you can outrun. It isn’t as simple as it used to be. Gabriel’s too old to be told he’s going on an adventure and cheerfully tag along without question - it was hard enough getting him to leave Kansas.

There’s Joel too, Ellie … you don’t know what to tell them.

You know that Jackson isn’t safe with the looming threat of the Junction. You’ve built a life here; a home and you want to protect that.

Besides they could already be here, you think, mentally running through every trader or newcomer you remember seeing in recent weeks.

“Is everything okay?” Gabriel asks softly, sitting next to you on the faded couch. “Beau and Sean seem … tense.”

“They’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Gabriel frowns, looks away.

You could tell him. He’s sixteen. You could tell him the truth. He wants the truth.

You can barely live with it though; barely live with your own part in it all. You proofread his sermons. You want to give him a father that’s safe, a memory of a good man. Not a deranged, dangerous cult leader.

The air is thick with smoke. You can hear the flames consuming the wooden building, can hear people yelling in the distance. Your distraction failed. There’s a gun in your hands, aiming at him. You can’t stop shaking. “Just - just let us leave,” you say desperately. “You’re my wife.” “Ethan -” “You’re pregnant, you think I didn’t know?” Your panic heightens. This is the reason you’ve been desperate to escape with Sean, to find somewhere else ... you didn’t think he knew. “I won’t let you go like this. I won’t let you take a child from me.  My child. They’re going to - when he’s born, everything will be okay again.” No. Ethan cannot be in your child’s life. You cannot raise a child in a cult. You raise your hands once more and pull the trigger.

“You know I love you, right?” you ask your son.

“Mum,” he groans, sounding out every syllable - the epitome of a teenager, ”Of course I know that.”

“Good, I’d do anything for you, kid.”

 Love.

It’s a strange word; a weapon, a revelation, a lullaby. You grew up with messages about soulmates, about princesses finding their Prince Charming and happy-ever-afters. The world changed; those views were exposed for their naïveté more than ever. It became a dream. Something for other people, not you. Then you met Ethan and love became real, tangible. Dangerous.

You didn’t want that type of love again. Relationships were casual, you kept detached, held something back.

Then Joel stole your goddamn bench and ruined everything.

You feel an ache in your stomach as you watch him working on the porch of an empty house. The mailbox says it belonged to the Bensons, you wonder where they are, what became of them, who will move to this house one day.

“How is it?” you call.

Joel looks up and over at you, a smile widening.

You want to drink in every detail of Joel, commit every freckle, the feel of his fingers on your skin, the sound of his voice as he talks to you, the way he looks when he wakes up … every single part of him.

“Hi,” he says lowly, wincing slightly as he stands up. “It’s in pretty good shape actually - just the porch here needs some work.”

“Wow,” you say, aimlessly swinging your hands as you move closer to him.

“How’s the library been?”

“I wasn’t there today,” you say, honestly, “I had to help Sean.” Not that either of you achieved much. You were in the greenhouses and spent most of your day planning, panicking, and pacifying your anxieties.

There were no immediate solutions to the situation you’d found yourselves in so none of you slept much last night as the worry permeated your mind. Except for Gabriel, perhaps - your beautiful son, the reason you needed a better plan.

Well, there are other reasons too.

Joel touches your shoulder gently. “You okay, sweetheart? You look -”

“Don’t, don’t you finish that sentence, darling,” you say in your breeziest voice.

Joel frowns slightly, furrows his brow.

“How’s Ellie?” you ask, desperate to get this conversation back on track.

“She’s good. Gabriel?”

“I think he has a girlfriend,” you admit, giving yourself just a moment of normality. “Or boyfriend. I think he’s dating, regardless.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh, he’s got the signs.” It pulls at your heart; your son won’t want to leave Jackson. He’s building a life here. A decent one.

You were starting to do the same.

“I am not looking forward to that with Ellie,” Joel admits.

You raise an eyebrow. “Really? You’re worried?”

“Who doesn’t worry?”

“Touché.”

“So, what’d I owe the pleasure of this visit to?” he asks, honey sweet as he slips his hands around your waste, leans close to you, his lips on the edge of your collarbone. “not that it isn’t a highlight of my day.”

“Just wanted to say hello.” You feel the heat of his breath as he chuckles, kissing you briefly.

He smells like soap and the outdoors. There’s a lingering hint of mint, of firewood too.

“That works for me.”

He guides you against the wall and as he works his way up your neck, to your jaw, mumbling sweet nothings against your skin, you wish it could be different.

You want to stay here in this moment, or at least you want to stay here with Joel right now.

They could already be on their way.

“Joel -”I love you.

The words hang in the air, unspoken but clear. He must know, surely?

“Yeah?” he asks, looking at you carefully.

“I don’t think this is working anymore.”

You know you shouldn’t look at him, but you owe him this at least.

His face crumples; confusion, shock, uncertainty. You watch how he works through every moment before shaping his expression into something blank, a look you haven’t seen him wear before.

“Why?” he asks gruffly.

“I just think we need to pause things.”

“Is it because of what happened with Ellie?”

“No, no, not at all,” you say in a panic, remembering the stern conversation you’d had after Ellie’s suspicious accident.

Joel is in the kitchen with his arms folded, flannel rolled up to his elbows and his  scarred, tanned skin exposed. “Total honesty […] that goes both ways, sweetheart.”

Joel was right and he deserves honesty, he deserves someone who can tell him their truths, but you can’t. Not yet.

Not when Gabriel doesn’t know, not when you fear the inevitable judgment on Joel’s face. You helped him edit his sermons, you married him, you didn’t see it until it was too late. Ignorance doesn’t excuse complicity to you though.

You need to protect Ellie too, protect Joel, protect Jackson as well as your family. The Junction would be so dangerous to them - they’re an invasive species, they see something habitable and they would take it over, spread the rot from inside. They might already be doing that.

You can’t be with Joel right now. You just can’t.

A thousand words sit at your lips; you will yourself to give him some sort of explanation, some sort of better parting. When you’re dead, he’ll remember this. maybe it’s better this way. You ruin yourself to him now so he doesn’t have to mourn you, so you’re not another loss or excuse to shut his heart away. You are committing a kindness to him and incomparable damage to yourself because you do love him. You do, you love him in a way that terrifies and soothes you all at once. You feel like it’s been years and decades but maybe Joel is the right person for you at last.

You will not damn him to mourn another lost love though.

This is a kindness.

“I’m sorry,” you say flatly and you step off the porch and away from him, unable to look back in case he disappears.

It’s for him, it’s for him, you’re doing this for him, for Ellie, for Gabriel, for Sean and Beau. This pain is your penance.

Tag List

YHIM: @orcasoul@pedropascalsbbg @yoursoulsunbreakable@iamskyereads@genetics4life@everyth1ngfan@frickatives@perennialdoll247@joelsgreys@pedrobaby@missladym1981@noisynightmarepoetry@picketniffler @titlee78

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed@pedrostories@hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #your hand in mine fic #fic: your hand in mine

[chatsukimi]

5am (kenma kozume)

meet-cute. gamer!reader, highschool!reader, canon-compliant

He meets you at the internet cafe.

Now, you can bet most people in Tokyo have checked it out at least once, drawn in by the pleasing decor. Some mistake it for a cat cafe, which it is not. Still, ever so often, tourists arrive ogling the desks and laptop chargers expecting an animal to jump out from the midst. You know because you are a very frequent visitor.

And the pudding-head coming through the door catches your attention. Schools here don’t allow their students to dye their hair. Delinquent culture, apparently. As the boy seats himself two tables away, his eyes swipe over you, the visitor sitting at the back. His expression is empty. It seems to ask, you too?

Because it is five am and the mic on your headset gives you instantly away.

It is five fifteen and you still haven’t said a word, snatching glances at the boy on his phone and the clock on the wall. You wonder if he’ll be back tomorrow, or the day after that. The street outside is dark. The streetlamp flickers. It is just the two of you. You relax in your big puffy jacket and begin to play.

It is five twenty and the boy glimpses at you back. His eyes shine in the glow of the warm lamp, like an animal. Neko. Nekoma, you recognise from the uniform he has on. A breeze hits your face as a university student hurries through the door chugging a cup of coffee. No streaming for today, you guess.

‘Oh um, sorry, is it OK if I borrow your charger, if you have one?’

The look on cat boy’s face positively represents a cat dunked in water.

You stand up before you mean to.

‘Uh- no, I don’t have one,’ he responds, as the two of them turn to face the screech cried out by your chair.

‘I have one.’

It is five twenty two and cat boy shoots you a round curious stare which could be construed as amused, if you were not wishing the seat would swallow you up. You smash through another level in your game.

It is five fifty eight and a light blue illuminates the sky. Day-comers rub the snow from their shoes onto the mat before entering, the college student seems to have fulfilled their quota, night has all but faded. It’s time.

You pack up your headphones, slot your laptop into its case, and pull your bag onto your shoulders.

‘Hey,’ a voice murmurs.

You look up. Pudding-head.

Albeit nothing in his composure suggests he’s nervous, his hands have a mind of their own. ‘My name is Kenma. You stream, don’t you? What do you play?’

You respond. He nods, slowly. You know enough to recognise the little tell means something other than acceptance.

‘I’ll see you,’ you whisper, gliding out of the internet cafe.

Forty minutes. And the three words between the two of you become as much as a wink, a promise to hold, enough for two strangers on a winter’s day. It means:

Next time.

... Hope you enjoyed! Also, part ii + part iii

#kenma #kozume kenma #hq kenma #hq #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #kenma fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #kenma x y/n #kenma x gender neutral reader #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader

[fushigidane]

various fe fates premise/worldbuilding rewritey ideas i've been pondering...

since i've been replaying conquest recently and am once again frustrated with this game's writing

first, as a way of making garon non absolutely definitively evil AND bake anankos's involvement into the game's base premise, having garon NOT kidnap corrin intentionally. corrin is separated from sumeragi on that business trip after their party was attacked by vallite soldiers as anankos wanted to either kill or retrieve his child. corrin is found by nohrians and brought to windmire when they are found to have dragon blood... POWERFUL dragon blood. they suffer the same memory loss like canon. hoshido asks for corrin back, garon refuses since their draconic blood isn't that of the dawn (or even dusk) dragon and he is concerned hoshido wants to use them as a weapon or otherwise does not have their best interests in mind. garon does not believe that corrin is hoshidan because they don't even LOOK hoshidan

corrin still going to the northern fortress but not out of malevolence. it's genuinely for their own health. the attack on sumeragi awakened corrin's dragon form for the first time, but without a dragonstone, they were unable to control it as in canon. they CONTINUE to be unable to control the instincts, which were often triggered by the stressful environment of the concubine wars, so garon sent them far from castle krakenburg to avoid more incidents for their and other's safety. visiting was restricted for a while, but as things settled they were seen often by garon + their siblings.

corrin knows their vague origin, that garon isn't their actual father, but still acknowledges him as such (and garon acknowledges them as their child). they also remember how bad things were during the concubine wars and are both accepting of why they were sent there and somewhat hesitant to leave

more general things of garon being a semi decent father. the manga had a really good part where garon recognised leo's mother in him for an instant and called him that. more please

because of garon being less definitively evil, the hoshidan Throne Of Truth being a way to purge anankos's influence and expose garon's TRUE self i.e. save him rather than expose anankos as in canon. this may be an idea raised by corrin/azura but perhaps even better would be for it to be GARON HIMSELF'S plan as he tries to rid himself of possession without anankos catching on. this being his plan in all three routes but only coming to fruition in conquest... where the throne doesn't work as planned and garon is killed when anankos is brought to the surface

garon being possessed by anankos in the first place as he tries to research what was going on with corrin. he reached many correct conclusions but unfortunately walked right into anankos's grasp. he doesn't want to be possessed, tries to resist the possession (directly and in more subtle ways as in above) but as time goes on, the more his condition degrades

fun idea => awakening trio being accepted so easily by garon as they are a) informed of valla etc., able to steer xander/camilla/leo from the same trap garon fell into with anankos and b) POTENTIALLY able to slow down anankos's possession of him?

an exploration of what the 'skies changing' mentioned in revelations even IS. it is the act of hoshido's sky becoming dark and nohr's becoming light (or vice versa). canon states it happens 'once every few decades', but nobody really knows when it will occur as there is no way of predicting it

the skies changing defining the way both nations act.

nohr, deprived of fertile land and harvest, conquers other nations to gain the resources they need to survive. inequality and poverty is rife as its citizens scramble for the limited available sustenance. even the royal family does not live in luxury and are themselves well-acquainted with not being able to secure food

hoshido, with bright skies and plentiful harvests but knowing that no matter what they do their prosper is temporary, stockpiling resources in preparation for their oncoming long night. its citizens are satisfied but on guard, particularly the older ones that recall its former famines. the royal family, understanding the duty it has to its own citizens when night falls, is reluctant to send aid to other nations. a particular incident is when mokushu had an outbreak, hoshido refused to send medical supplies despite them being allies, which is what caused mokushu's current disdain towards hoshido.

the skies changing is why the two nations have never been able to coexist. even though hoshido currently exists with a surplus, and there could well be enough resources at any given time to adequately support BOTH nations, there is no precedent for either country ever sharing their sustenance when they can access it. neither country will make the first step because there is no guarantee that the favour will be paid back when the skies change again.

garon and mikoto's rule being equally informed by past precendents and desire to survive/fear for the future respectively

garon, as alluded to in canon but never shown, is-slash-was a very good ruler that did a very good job maintaining order in the country, ensuring nobody least of all the royal family is permitted to hoard while others are left to starve. things have only degenerated in recent years as anankos's possession has taken its toll on his ability to rule and food shortages continue to worsen. YES he conquers nations but certainly in the past only when trade deals failed or were unviable => nohr had plenty struggles with these as it is currently unable to offer much except manpower and protection, which not all nations need or appreciate. nohr's view is that they would rather conquer others than allow their own citizens to starve, and for a long time garon has been appreciated by his citizens for doing what must be done

mikoto being cautious above all else, very aware of and fearing what's to come as described above. further, her coldness towards other nations being informed by corrin's kidnapping and sumeragi's death--which she believes was done by nohr. azura, by the way, was still kidnapped in retaliation for nohr's alleged actions.

mikoto also should not die in the prologue. just saying. she should be allowed to stand equally with garon as a good yet flawed ruler that is unable to see past the present and make the necessary first step to a better future

lots of general themes about smaller nations on the continent always being pushed around by the two superpowers' squabbles over resources

#95% of my ideas are nohr-focused bc i only care about nohr. sorry. that's where my blorbos are #(did not even finish birthright) #some of my ideas are informed by various fe fates rewrite videos i've watched => shoot me an ask if you want links they're pretty good #this game has such an issue tho with moral greyness or to be precise its FAILURE at moral greyness #birthright is the only reasonable choice nohr is so LAUGHABLY evil #and i have not even touched iago and hans yet because oh dear #that's a subject #ahem #fire emblem #fire emblem fates #fe14 #fe fates #corrin #corrin fire emblem #garon #garon fire emblem

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter Ten

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 4,297

The aftermath of events in the town leads Joel to see you in a new light.

Warnings for canon typical violence and bloodshed. Slight spoiler regarding a wound that Joel will (presumably) receive in the series, but no mention of how it actually happens.

Come Home

Chapter Ten - Every Cloud

When Joel wakes it’s still dark outside, the winter sun slow to rise. He stirs, sits up with a grunt and stretches his arms above his head before rolling his shoulders.

“Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice thick with sleep and even huskier than usual.

“Not quite yet,” you say with a smile. “You can get another hour if you want.”

“Naw, I’m good,” he replies before shuffling out of the sleeping bag and sitting on the edge of the camp bed. “But I think you should,” he adds as he takes in your tired face.

“I’d be offended if I wasn’t going to definitely take you up on that offer,” you joke.

He smiles and stretches again as he stands, his plaid shirt riding up a little over his hips and revealing a flash of skin, a smattering of dark hair under his belly button. You see a scar on his abdomen – a puckered and darkened circular patch that you assume must have come from a gunshot and you wonder how he could have survived such a wound.

Casting your eyes to the ground, you make a show of fiddling your book back into your bag and by the time you yourself stand up, he has strolled over to his own pack. You collapse gratefully back onto the camp bed, immediately snuggling into the sleeping bag and briefly recognising that you feel cosy and warm and surrounded by his musky, masculine scent before drifting back off.

Breakfast is brief for horses and humans alike, and by the time you’ve repacked your now much emptier saddlebags and backpacks, the sky is still periwinkle blue, shot through with clouds of lilac and pink. The plan is simple. Bring the horses to a spot near to the large store and find a suitable and secure garage to leave them for a while. Then, quietly proceed on foot and investigate what you can of yesterday’s shootout. If all goes well, you’ll hit the store after that and start the ride back to Jackson in the early afternoon. If.

The first part of the day goes without a hitch. A street of large colonial townhouses with an eerie, faded beauty that are situated between the store and your exit is discovered, and you and Joel make a thorough sweep of one before settling the horses in the empty garage with a supply of food and water.

Next, you gingerly approach the main street, skirting the alleys and smaller roads that lead away from it until you come upon the scene that you had watched play out yesterday. All is silent and still, the only movement coming from the icy breeze that ruffles the tattered clothing of the infected and the blood and brain-stained hair of the one who hadn’t been given a chance to turn.

His clothes are military, a hodge-podge of a bullet proof vest with a faded FEDRA logo on the breast, dark camo pants and battered, yet sturdy combat boots. It wasn’t a complete FEDRA uniform, and the guns and ammo that you liberate from his lifeless body aren’t standard FEDRA issue, but there was every chance that he was some sort of renegade, disillusioned with the status quo in a QZ and seeking a different sort of life beyond its walls. Or he could have murdered a group of them and taken what he wanted. Either way these clearly aren’t your run of the mill survivors and you and Joel exchange a meaningful glance and you feel the tension in the air tighten.

As you follow the path of where they had retreated, you see more dead infected – six in all, plus another of their number face down in the snow, the exit wound in his head gaping to the sky. His ammo and guns are also taken and the mental tally in your head ticks down one more. Three to go. That you know of at least.

Nothing impedes your progress along the road. There are more dead infected scattered here and there but no one else, and even as you are grateful that these people seem to have saved you the job of clearing the town yourselves, you are on edge. They are heavily armed. There are more of them than you. And they know how to defend themselves. An unhappy, acid feeling settles itself into your guts as you finally enter what was a parking lot long ago, your objective looming ahead and looking both welcoming and sinister in equal measures.

The doors are thrown open and the glass and splintered wood that lie on the ground speak to a violent and hasty entry. The ivy that has twisted its way around the debris shows that this happened long ago. The trampled leaves, however, are immediately obvious as a newer development. Joel sees it as you do, and you both draw your guns before you enter.

The store isn’t as intact as you had previously thought. Part of the ceiling has caved in, relatively recently given the absence of plant life covering the chasm above. It serves to shed some welcome light, though it also deepens the shadows at the extremities of the space. The shelves you can see are mostly bare, a few pathetic looking bottles and dusty packages scattered here and there.

It doesn’t take long before you spot it up ahead. It’s unmistakeable - that weird, hunched up way of standing some runners have, like they’re weeping into their hands for their lost humanity. Joel taps your arm and mimes to you that he will take care of it quietly, but that you should cover the situation just in case. You nod your understanding and he carefully and slowly tucks his pistol away, careful not to make any noise. Just because you hadn’t heard any clickers, didn’t mean that there weren’t any.

He sneaks between the shelves, ensuring that the runner’s back is to him. It continues to rock on its feet, making those awful sobbing noises that had haunted you for years after the initial outbreak. Closer…closer…until he lunges, grabbing the infected by the neck, his meaty forearm enclosing it in a crushing chokehold. It struggles, hissing noises and gurgles emanating from its steadily shattering larynx until finally it succumbs to the inevitable. Joel gently and silently lowers it to the floor before you move to join him. The infection was fresh, the same mix of camo and FEDRA uniform that you saw outside garbs it. Two to go.

The sports section of the store is, inevitably, a mess. Almost anything that could be construed as a weapon, as well as the weapons themselves, are gone. Shelving units lie in disarray and glass from casings are smashed to smithereens and mixed with the debris from the fallen roof. Cautiously, picking your way over the mess of the floor, you hug a wall with a tattered, half fallen banner proclaiming 50% off something or other. Joel is an aisle over, treading softly as he moves his torch and gun over the shadows toward the back of the store. You hear the soft shuffle of leather and then the scrape of metal as he picks up a baseball bat from where it has been abandoned and recognise the wisdom in having a quieter weapon to hand while you don't seem to be in any immediate danger from the living, putting your own gun away in favour of drawing your machete.

The mirrored side of a display case saves your life. A flicker of movement in its dirty glass grabs your attention a split second before a hoarse shout comes from beyond a previously unseen doorway, and suddenly a runner is barrelling at full speed toward you out of the changing rooms, its bloody fingers clawing at the air ahead of it in anticipation of reaching your face. You dimly register another scream from the darkness to your left, and push it out of your mind as you take aim and slam your machete as hard as you can into the head of the thing in front of you. Blood explodes from it, and it falls to the floor twitching, still howling, still trying to get at you until you wrench your weapon out and hit it again, this time stilling it for good.

Another scream in the darkness ahead and your blood freezes as you try to tug the machete free. It won’t come, buried too deeply as it is in the skull of the monster on the ground. You fumble for your gun instead, but it’s too late. A force slams into you, knocking you to the floor, rattling your teeth and driving the breath from your body as well as the gun from your holster. Rolling eyes and teeth and blood and deafening snarling in your ears as you brace against the writhing runner’s neck with one arm and scrabble on the floor for something, anything with the other. The broken shard of glass that you drive into its eye does minimal damage and you know you have mere seconds before it breaches your defences. Something heavy, something sharp brushes against your hand and you grab on to it properly before wedging it up between your bodies and driving it fully into the nightmare face above you. It stills, finally it stills and you push it off quickly to go and help Joel, who is in fact already scrambling to come and help you after having defeated his own foe.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay,” you reply quietly, your own breath coming in stunted gasps.

“You’re bleeding.” His voice is dull, suddenly devoid of emotion and you look down at your red-stained palm, holding it up to him so he can see the clean slash of it.

“Glass,” you reply. “Or maybe-“ You turn back to observe your handiwork.

“Well…that’s a new one,” he remarks wryly. The hockey skate is just as firmly embedded in the second runner’s skull as your machete is buried in the first and you can’t help the bubble of nervous laughter that bursts from your lips.

“You sure you’re not hurt?” he asks again, his meaning clear as he hands you a bandage for your hand.

“It got my coat. Didn’t go through,” you confirm as you briefly shed the garment to show him your distinctly blood-and-bite free arm. “Thank God its cold and I have twenty six layers on.”

Joel manages to wrench your machete free and wipes it unceremoniously on the runner’s jacket before giving it over to you.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Guess there were more of them.”

“Guess so-“ he begins before you both whirl at another noise from the back of the store. No clicking, no howling screams. This sounds more like someone trying to move stealthily through the mess on the floor. Joel tenses, draws his gun again and you move quietly together toward the sound. It came from the direction of the large counter at the back, long-silent cash registers standing atop it like sentinels.

There is no one behind there, but there is a door, a large “Staff Only” sign on it. Joel motions for you to step back then grasps the handle and gently turns it, but before he can push, it flies open and another figure hurtles through. The man clearly hoped to get some sort of jump on you, but Joel is ready and merely turns, using the man’s own momentum to hurl him, dumping him to the floor before training his pistol unerringly at the man’s head.

“Don’t fuckin’ move,” Joel growls.

Your own gun is back in your hands, without you really remembering drawing it, and you step forward, also with the man in your sights. He’s young-ish. Thirty maybe, definitely born before the world went to shit, but probably doesn’t remember much about it. He has the same FEDRA vest on, the same combat boots.

Joel backs away, keeping his gun trained on the man who takes the opportunity to sit up, his hands held in surrender.

“I said don’t fuckin’ move!”

“Okay, okay,” the man acquiesces, settling back down on the floor and holding his hands up further in deference and defeat. “Let’s just be cool about this.” He eyes Joel warily, and then his gaze skates over to you. They linger on your chest and you feel a swirl of disgust in your stomach.

“Where are the rest?” you ask, your voice clipped and harsh as you demand an answer.

The man looks you up and down again before he gives a gloomy kind of giggle his head lolling back against the door behind him. “Dead. But you got ‘em from what I could hear.”

“Why are you here?” Joel demands.

“Why does anyone do anything anymore? Survival, man. A couple of us were looking for stuff in here when we heard the gunshots outside. Apparently one of my buddies got bit before he made it inside. Turned in the night. We had a pact, man. You get bit, you tell. Guess when the time came he was too chickenshit to actually do it. I hid in there." He jabs a thumb behind him in the direction of the door. "Let it play out”

“And what about you?” Joel asks menacingly, advancing a few steps forward.

“Woah, woah, easy. I’m clean. I swear.” Joel doesn’t move and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head, weighing up the cost of believing this stranger. “Though I guess I would say that,” the man adds in a quieter tone of voice.

“Prove it,” you say in an icy tone.

His voice is now distinctly skeevy for someone with two guns trained at his head. “Hey lady, how should I do that? Huh? You want me to strip? At least buy me a drink first, sheesh.”

You roll your eyes. “Look, fucko, either you can prove it, or I can shoot you. Take your pick.”

The man looks toward Joel as if he thinks he will find some succour in that granite monolith. Unsurprisingly, he does not.

“Un-fucking-believable,” the man mutters as he begins to stand.

“Slowly,” Joel barks.

The man obeys, taking off his bulletproof vest, his thick sweater and t shirt. By the time he is unlacing his boots and pulling them off he is shivering in the frigid air, but you can’t find it in yourself to care much. You still don’t know what you’ll do if he is clean. Take him back to Jackson? Send him away in the opposite direction with supplies and best wishes? His very presence so close to the town is a threat and your grip tightens painfully on your gun as he finally straightens up, now just in his boxer shorts.

“See?” he says, making a slow, shuffling revolution. You dip your torch up and down his body, checking that he is being truthful. It appears he is, though his skin is marred by reddish black bruises as well as several distinctive scars, some healed, others very fresh, one still covered with a dressing that looks to be several days old.

“Fine. Get dressed.” Joel still doesn’t move as he gives the order. By the brevity of his tone you guess that his thoughts are running along the same path as yours.

“So uh…where are you guys from?” the man says, his voice entirely too over-eager.

“None of your goddamn business,” growls Joel.

“Gotta be close,” he continues, seemingly blithely unaware of the danger he was digging himself deeper into. “Look like you’re well fed, got plenty of supplies. And I didn’t hear a car draw up so…” He trails off as he pulls the sweater back over his head and faces you again.

“And what about you?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you step forward. “Any more of your ex-FEDRA buddies in the area? Or did you just happen to come across a group of them and they gave up their shit willingly?”

The man huffs another brief and humourless laugh. “Not willingly. Some patrol moving from one QZ to another. Or scouting supplies, who knows? I lived under FEDRA long enough. My conscience is clear.” Well…you supposed you couldn’t blame him for that attitude.

“As for where we come from. Here and there. We got a camp a few miles away. Lots of people. Women and children too.” His tongue comes out to wet his lips, an involuntary gesture. “Matter of fact my girl’s pregnant. We were just looking for a place to settle, thought this might be the one-“

A harsh burst of laughter escapes your lips. “Now that…that is bullshit.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Joel’s gaze flick to you briefly as you take another step forward to fall in line with him. “And you wanna know how I know that? You’re beat up pretty bad. And I know what the aftermath of a goddamn knife fight looks like. If you really had a safe, cosy home to be in nearby, you wouldn’t have wounds that fresh or dressings that old. Or maybe your “buddies” just enjoyed stabbing you for fun, hmm?” A steely note of fear has crept into the man’s eyes, robbing him of his previous facetious demeanour and you know you’ve hit the mark.

“And besides that,” you continue softly. “You’ve been eyefucking me every moment we’ve been here. There are no women at your camp, if you even have a camp. And if there are I feel desperately fucking sorry for them. You’re a liar.” On the last word, you pull the trigger. He doesn’t even get a sound out before he collapses to the ground, the inside of the back of his skull now decorating the door and wall behind him.

Tucking your gun away, you turn back to Joel. “Well...shall we?”

More guns and ammunition are found in the Staff Only area, as well as some food and first aid supplies. The store also gives up a couple of bows and some arrows, as well as some screwdrivers, nails, winter clothing and a lone pack of sanitary pads. It holds some more frivolous items too, including what you hope will be Ellie’s Christmas present. You debate with yourself for a full minute about how hygienic some of this stuff could be at this point before shrugging and grabbing a few items of make up, feeling an odd little twinge of guilt as you do so.

The ride back to Jackson is peaceful. You feel it seep into your bones. The calm. The still. The certainty that you had done your duty to protect what you had. Joel has an air of pensive distractedness about him and has done since you had left the store lifeless and silent once again. You weren’t entirely sure what he was thinking – if anyone was a closed book it was him – but you didn’t get the impression that he was upset with you in any way. More that he was lost in thought about something or other.

You eat as you ride, pulling out a wrap of venison jerky and offering some to Joel alongside you.

“Thanks,” he says shortly, the first word he’s said since you started the journey back. You’ve just taken a much larger bite than intended when he speaks to you again and when he does his voice is tinged with soft amusement

“You know who you remind me of?”

You look over at him, raise a questioning eyebrow as you attempt to chew the tough meat more hurriedly.

“Bubbles.”

Finally you manage to swallow most of what you’ve bitten off. “Okay, Joel you really gotta stop bringing me in halfway through cryptic conversations.”

He smiles more widely at you before he responds. “You ever see the Powerpuff Girls?”

“…yeah? Didn’t think that would be your kinda thing if I’m honest.”

He drags his gaze away from you and looks out over the snowy landscape ahead. “Not me. My uhhh…my daughter, she loved ‘em when she was little. At one point I swear the whole house was nothin’ but pink and blue and green. She even took up karate, wanted to fight like ‘em before she realised team sports were more her thing.” He smiles more sadly this time and you hardly dare to breathe for fear of breaking whatever spell was making him open up to you like this.

He darts his head up to look at you again and for the first time since you’ve met him, your eyes directly meet his. The dappled, golden sun is catching them repeatedly as the horse plods on, caramel to deepest chocolate and back again as he rides. They are stunningly beautiful, soft in winter’s light and you drop your gaze to his lips, struggling to tune back in to what he is saying.

“You remind me of Bubbles. You look at her and she seems like someone who needs to be taken care of. Sweet.” Wait…does he think you're sweet?

“Cute.” Does he think you’re CUTE?!

“And then you see her in action and you realise she might just be the most dangerous one of all of ‘em.”

Gaping, you stare at him in stunned shock. Of all the conversations you thought you’d ever have with Joel this hadn’t even begun to feature, and it's not just because of the absurdity of the subject matter. You say the only thing your short circuiting brain will allow you to at this time.

“Well…she was my favourite.”

“Mine too. Sarah, she preferred Buttercup.” Ah. The mystery of Sarah resolved, and another piece of the puzzle that is Joel slots into place. His smile fades as he looks at you, and a seriousness permeates his features once again.

“I think we can keep what happened between ourselves. He died in the shootout with the rest. No reason to stir anything up back home.”

“I did what needed to be done-“ you begin, frowning, and he holds up a hand to stop you.

“I agree,” he says smoothly. “But some might see it different because he wasn’t infected. And he was unarmed. Probably think we shoulda brought him back, see how he got on in Jackson. Tommy and Maria are tough sonsabitches, but sometimes they’re too damn good. And some others there barely know what its like outside anymore. They couldn’t survive without other people makin’ the tough calls. It’s easy to judge when you’re sittin’ pretty.

You jaw twitches as you look down at the horse’s mane bobbing up and down in front of you and force down the flare of anger that threatens to overtake. You had been so sure of your righteousness, so certain that it was a good call.

“Hey.” Joel touches your arm, pulls it back so you tug on the reins and both your horses pull up to a stop. Reluctantly, you look up at him.

“If you hadn’ta done it, I would,” he confesses, and you see the truth of it burning fiercely in his eyes.

Later that evening, when you have been welcomed back into town, debriefed, and your found supplies whisked away to join the stores you walk back to your house with Joel, the thrumming levity that always came after a successful foray jangling through you. It was different, though, this time. Joel’s voice saying the words “sweet” and “cute” kept sweeping through your mind, adding to the thrill in your blood. The prospect of the winter’s dance was also a source of warm and pleasant agitation, and you couldn’t remember the last time you were excited about something that didn’t revolve around food or supplies. Then there was Ellie’s Christmas present, something which you also hoped would involve Joel, and as you walk up your porch steps you gear yourself up to ask him what you need to.

“So…I have a bit of a weird question to ask you.”

“Oooh my favourite kind,” he smiles, leaning against the wooden frame of your porch as he looks up at you.

“Are there any lakes or big ponds in Jackson?”

“Uh… not within the walls, but there’s a lake not too far out. You wanna go ice fishin’ or somthin’?”

“Not exactly. But if you can stand to come out with me for another day, there’s something I’d like to do.”

“I think I could stand that,” he smiles as he folds his arms and shifts his weight to one leg. “Wanna tell me what it’s all about, Bubbles?”

The nickname catches you off guard and you giggle. “What, have I gotta call you Mojo Jojo now?”

“Naw, no way am I as smart as that monkey.”

You laugh, fully laugh as the joy you have been feeling finally spills past your lips and his eyes crinkle to black as his smile grows wider.

“It's gonna be a surprise,” you grin. “But to sweeten the deal, I promise I’ll bring some coffee.”

“Yup. Sold,” he says, stretching out his hand for you to seal the deal. You take it, and your skin tingles as his thumb lightly brushes over the back of your hand. This time, he holds you for a beat longer than necessary and when he finally drops it you’re surprised to see his grin recede into something almost coy.

“Well, goodnight,” he says a little gruffly, pushing himself away from your porch and heading over to his own.

“Night Joel,” you reply, your voice emerging more tenderly than you had anticipated.

He gives a final wave before disappearing into his house, and you step inside your own to be alone with your happy yet tumultuous thoughts.

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories @abbyhaslongshorts @celebrtyskinz @majahu

Next chapter

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou x reader #joel tlou x you #joel tlou x f!reader #joel tlou x female reader #joel tlou fanfic #joel tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic

[silverskull]

Ohio Laundry Room

Chenford Week 2023

Day 1: Inspired by Canon

Amazingly, this fic covers all three points: (one of my) favourite scenes, canon quotes, and season five song.

Whole work below, but also here on AO3. Comments, reblogs and likes are SO VALUED!

It was a dusty shade of green.

Soft avocado; mushy peas; moss stems gripped and plucked from the bottom of an Ohio peat marsh.

The walls were thick - rough cement blocks stacked close together to provide some sort of dampening to the constant rumble of whirring washers.

She’d thought it was a quake hazard - avoided the little room on purpose, having no need of the facilities thus far into her stay.

Then: “Lock the door first.”

Not what she’d envisioned utilising the meet spot for.

They’d mentioned it before, gone over the blueprints of the apartment complex and the map of the block. Decided it was inconspicuous and secure. Nyla had approved it and Metro had agreed. In case of emergency.

“Meet me at the laundry room.”

Relief had flooded through her when he suggested it, her breath finally slowing down and filling her lungs completely, her heart giving one quick squeeze and relaxing its frantic patter.

He’d had incident reports to sign, and she got there first, running into the apartment and peeling off the elegant jumpsuit she’d worn to dinner. Glass had settled in the folds of fabric and now tinkled to the ground as she stripped, sticking to her bare feet like lopseed burrs while she hopped out of one leg, then the other. Her night clothes were nearest  - a soft hoodie and some yoga pants - and, once she’d dressed, she pulled the hood up close around her neck while watching out the window for his lights. 

She’d made him sleep on it - the hoodie - her last night at home.

He’d rolled his eyes and pointed out the pesky lumps of metal on the end of the strings and along the zipper, but even as he said it, he tossed it on the bed, sitting on top of it and pulling her hips in close. She’d laced her hands around his neck and bumped his nose with her own.

“They’re called ‘aglets’.”

He’d had no interest in her trivia, kissing her mouth closed with smiling lips, knocking her knees out from under her and rolling her into the bed with him instead.

She could still just smell him along the seams of the hood, and she inhaled deeply, squeezing her arms against her chest to prolong the scent.

His headlights lit the sidewalk as he turned into her street, pulling into a space in front of the railings. She didn’t wait to see him get out, hurrying to toss some vests and fabric softener into a basket.

He was already folding jeans when she burst in the door. She recognised them too - a pile he’d packed and thrown in the trunk the last time they’d stayed at his house, ready to add to his slowly expanding set of clothing in her bedroom dresser.

But his jeans were just a fleeting thought and she discarded the basket as rapidly as she could, dashing into his arms and burying her nose in his neck.

“That was really scary.”

It was hard to separate the layers of the four words.

That was really scary…

I thought I’d die.

I thought you’d die.

I thought he’d take me away.

I thought they’d take you away.

I thought you’d crack and come looking for me.

I wanted you to come looking for me. (I didn’t want you to come, either.)

I saw you past the gunfire, your face lit up through the windshield by the streetlights: I saw how frightened you were.

I nearly didn’t look away from you in time.

I miss you so. much.

“Yeah, I ‘bout had a heart attack.”

She could still feel his heart against her own, hammering away in his chest, the rapid pulse in his neck at odds with the reserved stillness she’d seen him wear like a mask.

His hands covered the full expanse of her back and she wanted to melt into him, sink into his skin like warm chocolate.

Business first though, and he tried - he really tried - two or three times. But she could see the way his eyes flicked fretfully around her face, his hands twitching at his sides as he restrained himself from reaching for her. He sounded like he was talking about the case, but it kept coming back to her, to her… her control, her boundaries, her safety.

He trusted her beyond doubt - her skill and expertise and ability - but the shooting had shaken something loose and he was struggling to reign himself in. She could see the momentary release he’d had from holding her undoing as she spoke, his arms and neck tightening with anxiety, his shoulders curving under the weight of his fear.

It wasn’t what she’d planned on saying, or doing.

But it was out there, and when she’d said it, she knew it was exactly what both of them needed.

“Lock the door first.”

She didn’t have to ask him twice.

And as the ash-green wall burst into stars before her eyes, she dug her fingers into the warm skin of his back, his hair rough and sweat streaked between her breasts, and one thought lit up her mind like a firework.

It didn’t matter where they were - laundry room or private jet or his tiny office at the station -  because everywhere was better when they were together.

And she always wanted to be with him.

Because she was in love with him.

#ChenfordWeek23 #my fic #chenford

[neuxue]

from the maximum trojan mindfuck list, if you don't mind, which of those books would you recommend individually?

It would depend on what I know of your reading tastes and interests, really. I don't think any of those four are on my 'would not recommend to anyone under any circumstances' list, but nor would I put them on an 'everyone go read this immediately regardless of what you usually enjoy' list.

So if you don't want to complete the full trojan mindfuck, some brief guidance below to help you determine which ones you might be interested in:

The Iliad: I feel like this one's worth reading (at least in some version) if you're going to read any of the others, just because it's the (or in one case, a) basis from which they're drawing. And also because it's one of The Classics, and one so frequently adapted or referenced in the Western canon. For that alone I'd say it's a good one to at least be familiar with, but I do think it's a compelling story in its own right, especially if you're into proud doomed heroes, the impetus for and costs of war, and what happens when all the ties that bind - of love or loyalty or fate - collide. Also if you, like me, are into the weird bond that exists between the great champions of opposing sides, and the moment that shifts from symbolic opposition to personal vengeance.

The Song of Achilles: I will say this is the one on this list that I enjoyed the least; it's just... not really for me (with the exception of a single sentence - boys trained for music and medicine, and unleashed for murder - that found its way into my brain and parked itself there), but I also think it draws more scathing criticism than it perhaps deserves, from those who despise it. If you'll forgive the flippancy, though, I think the most concise description I could give this would be 'Angsty Soft Gay Iliad', in a way that feels very ~2012-2015 tumblr. You may enjoy this if you like the idea of reading a doomed hero's story from the perspective of their best friend/sidekick/lover, or the idea of The Iliad but with characters who are gentler, or if your first stop after reading The Iliad is the Achilles/Patroclus AO3 tag. I would probably not recommend this if you're here for sharper/darker characters, the brutality of war, or complex politics.

The Silence of the Girls: This might be the one I would recommend most widely, not necessarily because I enjoyed it more than the others, but because of the modern three on this list it's the one I feel the least 'it really depends on your tastes' about (though it does come with some content warnings). I think what I liked about this, especially in contrast to some of the feminist Greek mythology/ classics retellings that have been popular of late, is the way it leans into the 'original' story even (especially?) when that's uncomfortable, rather than reshaping it into something more appealing to a modern audience. Obviously the latter has its place as well, but I really like how Pat Barker navigates this. Briseis is not a girlboss and Achilles is a nightmare, and all these characters feel at once so recognisable as their legendary selves but also so very human, in the best and worst meanings of that word. Read this if you like characters who are not easily classified as good or bad, if you enjoyed the messiness of the Iliad and the characters involved in it, and if you thought 'but wait, what would that look like if you were not one of the chosen of the gods?'

Terra Ignota: oh man, what to even say here. This might be the one on this list that I enjoyed the most (though at times I still struggle to decide whether enjoyed is even the right word), but it might also be the one I would be most... particular about who I recommend it to. It's extraordinarily unhinged, extremely committed to an on-the-surface absurdly pretentious bit, and the layers of narrative unreliability mean that at times it feels like a thousand-plus-page trust-fall as you just have to hope that the author knows what she's doing. Also this is one where it's probably easier to list the content warnings that don't apply as those that do. That said, this series is an experience, and the sheer scale and scope of what Ada Palmer pulls off in the space of four (admittedly long) books is kind of astonishing, especially because you get a depth to it that stories with that level of ambition in terms of setting and characters and concept and style and-- don't always manage to deliver. Read this if extreme content warnings and characters who have done monstrous things are incentives rather than warnings to you, if you like complex politics that are almost indistinguishable from complex interpersonal relationships, if you struggle to find narrators who are unreliable enough to suit your tastes, and if you want a story that believes in hope and the good of humanity but doesn't soften edges or skim over the darkest facets of it to get there. Or, I guess, if you're really into The Enlightenment and want to see it as a space opera. ('Wait Lia I thought this was The Iliad?' that too. When I say this series is ambitious.)

#asks #anon #recommendations #of a sort???

[wander-over-the-words]

BioFluff Week 2022 Fic #6

Title: One True Purpose

Prompt: Pre-Canon/Post-Canon

Summary: The one where Delta is invited to teatime.

Characters: Subject Delta, Eleanor Lamb, Masha Lutz, Gil Alexander, Julie Langford, Augustus Sinclair; mentions of Mariska Lutz, Andrew Ryan, Splicers, Grace Holloway.

Pairing: No romantic pairings, just some father/daughter fluff between Delta and Eleanor.

Warnings: blood consumption (Little Sister stuff y’know); mentions of death and violence.

Notes: Sixth submission for BioFluff Week, with an answer to the specific prompt ‘Pre-Canon’! I put a stupid amount of time and effort into researching what Arcadia looks like for this lmao.

All material belongs to Irrational Games.

Fic also available on AO3.

…

His footsteps making the ground shake, Delta heads towards the vent up ahead, a single-mindedness in his mission to get to it, as there is a pinging sensation in the back of his head that tells him he needs to go and collect his child. It gets stronger and stronger the closer he gets, so he knows this is the one she’s waiting at.

Once he reaches the vent, Delta wastes no time in slamming his fist against it.

Thump. Thump.

He drops his hand and waits.

There’s the tiniest moment where nothing happens, then comes the sound of something moving around inside the vent, the brief clattering of something metallic, then he sees little hands and brown hair and glowing eyes and the syringe waiting for ADAM.

“Good morning, Daddy!” Eleanor exclaims as she pops up, crawling closer until she dangles out of the vent.

Delta doesn’t reply, just slots his hands under her armpits and lifts her out of the circular opening, turning around to deposit her on the cobblestone beside him.

“Why, thank you, Daddy,” Eleanor says with a giggle, curtsying to him once he lets her go. Her yellow-glowing eyes seem to shine all the brighter as she grins and gestures for him to follow. “Let’s go find some friends together, Daddy!”

Delta, as always, obediently follows.

Eleanor starts to lead him through this area of Rapture, hopping down the three steps behind him, onto the grass.

This place is so green and so lively compared to all the other places they’ve been. He has no idea where he is - he recognises areas of the city, but never remembers names - but he’s fairly certain they’ve never been here before.

Eleanor seems fascinated too; as she walks, she looks left and right, at the trees, the shrubs, the vines and the clumps of long grass, letting out a fascinated “Ooooh…” as she goes. She even stops to lift her foot and run her fingers through the blades of grass that had been beneath her, to observe how they try to stand again after she’s just stepped on them, turning back to Delta to point down and exclaim, “Look!”

He’s looking, sweetheart. Fascinating, isn’t it?

“Mama! Mama!”

Delta whips around at the sound of a child shouting; she’s obviously not Eleanor and she’s obviously not calling for him - he is ‘Daddy’ - but something about the fear in the child’s voice makes him look.

There’s a little girl standing in front of the Securis door that has RAPTURE METRO above it, holding the hand of a woman that looks a lot like her and trying to hide behind her skirt. She’s pointing up at the trees.

“What is that?! What is that?!”

Delta watches them as the woman tries to settle the girl; clearly, not everybody finds this place as pretty and fascinating as he and Eleanor do. Accordingly, he turns back to where Eleanor is standing, and watches as she approaches a tree without fear and taps at it with one of her tiny hands, letting out a little awed coo at the feeling of its bark.

That’s his girl - Eleanor’s not afraid of anything, besides when strangers approach her. Heights? Nope. Trees? Nope. Just strangers. His girl is brave like that.

A surge of affection goes through him, and he watches as Eleanor sniffs at the air, then gasps and stops to excitedly gesture to him.

“This way, this way! Hurry!”

She goes scarpering off, Delta watches her go, then he continues to follow, as he’s supposed to.

(“She is yours…to protect, Delta,” the man had said to him, the one that’s been there since he first woke up as he is now. Delta sees him whenever he has to go back to the place where they’d let him meet Eleanor; he has a moustache and he speaks much like Eleanor does. “That is your one, true purpose now: protect her. Keep her safe from…the dangers out there.” He’d smiled. “I’m sure you can…manage that, can’t you? You are, after all…the best we have to offer.”)

Protect her. Keep her safe. He knows his job - and he’s good at it.

Eleanor leads him up some stairs and into another grassy, tree-dotted area, and though Eleanor is less distracted now that she’s finally sniffed out an angel, Delta is still observing the area around him.

There’re people everywhere, usually paired up, chatting and smiling. They get out of Eleanor’s way as soon as they spot her, and they especially scramble to get away when he walks by; he looks at a couple as he passes them, turns at the waist to stare as they watch him with frightened eyes, holding each other like he’ll snatch them if they don’t.

They’re dressed in nice clothes - the man in a blue, pinstriped suit, with a white hat that has a blue band, and the lady in a long pink dress that’s all poofy at the short sleeves, her blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail - and he looks them up and down, wonders if he might be allowed to dress in a suit like the man has. He’s never worn anything that isn’t this thing he has on now, which might as well be his skin.

His attention goes back to Eleanor and he makes sure he is close behind the entire time that Eleanor goes on her merry way, leading him uphill to a door that’s labelled ARCADIA GLENS.

They pass through the flower-patterned screen doors and walk - and then, up ahead, on a wooden walkway, comes the sight of a fresh corpse. Bludgeoned, by the looks of it, but Delta’s never really paid much mind to where the ‘angels’ come from.

Eleanor runs over and points down at it, looking back at Delta with a wide smile.

“Look, Daddy! It’s the angel!”

Eleanor kneels and there comes the squelching sounds of a needle stabbing into flesh, as Delta walks over and stands behind her, keeping guard, on the lookout for any danger to Eleanor’s safety.

Fortunately for everybody involved, nobody comes by, so Eleanor is left unbothered as she collects and drinks down the ADAM.

“Mmm!” She giggles as she rubs her tummy, bouncing on the balls of her feet happily. She takes another sniff at the air, only to look disappointed. “Don’t any angels want to come and play with us?” She sighs sadly, then reaches up to tug on his finger. “Let’s look over this way, Daddy! The angel might be hiding from us after all!”

Sounds good to him; he follows, as he should.

Eleanor escorts him down the walkway, back onto grass as they pass a Gatherer’s Garden; they walk by another clump of people that Delta observes - a group of friends, they seem like, judging by the animated conversation and the laughter and the booze - and only two of them nervously watch Delta as he passes, while the rest ignore him.

The daddy-daughter pair ascend a small flight of stairs onto another wooden walkway, where Eleanor stops to sniff the air. She must not detect another angel because she frowns sadly, looks at the options in which way to go, then chooses to go right, leading Delta down another small flight of stairs and through the doors marked TEA GARDEN.

There’s more lush greenery around them, and Delta becomes distracted by noise coming from his right; he turns at the waist to investigate.

There’re people nearby - in the area with a low ceiling, where there’s no grass and no stone, just dirt, and people are milling around with bags of soil and wheelbarrows and pots. They must work here because unlike the people before, they’re not happily chatting and sharing kisses, but talking animatedly about this going there and that going here, and none of them are wearing nice clothes, just white lab coats over basic shirts and trousers. Uniforms.

Delta watches a blonde-haired woman in a white and green dress appear from around the corner, her voice carrying over the others’s as she barks an order at one of the coat-wearing people about how much a flower needs to grow before they can take it to be planted over in the Rolling Hills, so it doesn’t get trampled on when it’s still just a seedling. She must be in charge around here, because they do as she says without question.

“I shouldn’t have to explain this…” she mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose, then she lifts her head and does a double-take as she spots Delta watching her. She huffs and adds, “Ugh, what is one of those things doing down here? Nobody’s keeping its Little Sister from it, are they? That’d be just what I need right now…”

(They’d better not be.)

She really must be in charge around here, then. Beneath the work-oriented part of his brain - buried deep, deep down, so far that it’s a blip on Delta’s radar - Delta would like to ask her some questions about this place, about the plants.

“Strangers!!”

Delta whips around, then goes charging across the grass, through the archway and under the wooden, bridged walkway, sights set on the screen doors on his right; the doors don’t open quickly enough for his liking and Delta crosses an arm across his chest as he barrels through them.

Pieces of the doors go flying - he hears water splashing, a woman screams nearby, and behind him, the lady in charge shouts an expletive and there’re thuds of footsteps as she and her team come out of their workplace and check what he’s done. The lady starts angrily lamenting that she now has to call Mr. Ryan to send someone to come and fix the doors, but Delta doesn’t pay the damages nor her meaning any mind as he immediately turns to where Eleanor is.

She’s scrambling back as soon as Delta’s made his entrance, away from the couple, who in turn are hurrying to their feet from the pink blanket laid out on the grass, jostling the tea set and the tray of biscuits and scrunching up the fabric. They’re so quick to stumble away from him, they nearly lose their footing, dangerously close to falling down the hill they’re situated on, and instead end up knocking into the table and pair of chairs behind them, and the woman nearly crushes the man’s fedora, which lays on the blanket beside the teapot.

Eleanor hurries behind him to hide as Delta stares down the couple; the man throws his hands up in the air and the lady grasps the man’s bicep as she cowers behind him.

Both look terrified, and the man works through a dry mouth to shout, “We weren’t touchin’ her! She came over to us, okay?! We swear!”

Delta keeps staring; he’s not sure he believes them, but it doesn’t matter. They were near Eleanor, and that simply won’t do.

He holds out a hand, showing them his palm, in a clear message: Stay back. Keep away from her.

The couple are sweating, and the woman shakes her head.

“Forget it, Eddie!” she exclaims. “I don’t wanna stick around with one of those things marching around here!”

She releases the man’s arm and holds up the skirt of her yellow, flower-dotted dress as she runs for it, crossing over the river via the wooden bridge.

“Wha - Cathy, baby, where ya goin’?! Come back!” the man calls as she runs.

They watch as the woman doesn’t even reply or look back, just continues racing along the offered path leading to a pair of more metallic doors that take her away from this scene she finds so terrifying.

The man splutters nonsense, flabbergasted at being abandoned, then he turns back to Delta with a scowl as he says, “Why you -”

Delta steadies his shoulders, sensing that the man might try to start a fight, and the scowl on the man’s face falters, betraying his fear.

“Oh - Just -” His confidence gone, the man turns and runs in the direction his lady love left in. “Cathy, wait! He’ll go away in a sec, just wait!”

The doors at the other end of the room shut behind the man, and the situation has been dealt with.

With that, Delta leans down to Eleanor, setting a hand on her head gently.

Safe now.

Eleanor peeks out at where the pair had been standing, checking for anymore danger, then grins up at Delta.

“You rescued me, Daddy!” she exclaims excitedly, then she hugs his leg, nuzzling her head against his knee.

Delta gives a couple of gentle pats to her head, then straightens up as Eleanor leaves his side.

He expects her to sniff at the air again or tell him they’re going to look for more angels, but instead, she looks toward the abandoned tea set the couple had left behind.

“Oooh!” Eleanor exclaims, padding toward the ceramic cups and saucers and teapot. “Look, Daddy, look!” She laughs happily. “It’s teatime!”

Delta feels a little puzzled. So what? This isn’t what they’re supposed to be doing.

Eleanor kneels down on the blanket, setting aside her syringe. She picks up one of the fallen cups, which drips tea as it’s lifted; evidently, it’d been full when one of the people knocked it over, as its contents has stained the blanket.

Eleanor holds the cup, turning it over to observe the delicately-painted picture of a purple flower. She holds it up to the light, letting out another soft, “Ooooh…” as she continues rotating it to get a good look. She turns around, then places the cup carefully down on its matching saucer, gently, as if the cup will shatter into thousands of pieces. She tilts her head, brushes her hand over the tray of biscuits, then grins and looks up at him.

“Let’s have a tea party, Daddy!” Eleanor says, and Delta is taken aback.

This isn’t what they did in training, back when the man and the other people in lab coats would send them out and speak to him through the radio in his helmet and review the footage they get from the camera on his head. They would just get the ADAM, and any time Eleanor would complain that she was tired or cold, Delta was encouraged to get her back on track.

Eleanor stands up and goes to him, taking hold of his finger and continuing to give him a toothy little grin.

“Will you be a guest at my tea party, Daddy?” she asks innocently. “Please?”

Delta stares down at her.

He’s supposed to say no. He’s supposed to tell her they’re on a job. She has to get ADAM for the man and the others, back at the place they first met in. They said he’s not supposed to allow her to play or to stop until she’s ready to return to her vent, when her belly is full of ADAM-infused blood. It’d been one thing to let her observe the nature around her, but to abandon her syringe entirely? He’s not supposed to allow that.

But even back then, during training, he’d wondered…why? Why isn’t she allowed to do all that? She’s a child, she’s…supposed to play. She’s supposed to take part in this…tea party. Why shouldn’t she?

(“That is your one, true purpose now: protect her. Keep her safe from…the dangers out there.”)

The work-oriented part of his mind fights back against the part of him that just wants Eleanor to smile, and he points toward the doors on the other side of the room, where the couple had left through.

“Nooo!” Eleanor whines, pulling at his finger as if she could drag him over to the tea set. “Daddy, please, I want to play here!”

Delta’s not sure what to do. The man would want him to pull Eleanor away from the tea cups, hand her her syringe and make her walk.

But…he doesn’t want to do that. That would upset her. She might…cry. And the thought of her crying, that hurts more than anything a Splicer has thrown at him. He doesn’t want her to cry, or be sad. And what is the harm in letting her play? He doesn’t get it, nobody would tell him why that was bad. They’d just made him pick her up or pull her away from what was distracting her, told him “Well done,” when he’d managed to get her to focus, but they’d never said…why that was good…

“Please, Daddy…?” Eleanor says.

Delta stares into her glowing eyes -

(“That is your one, true purpose now: protect her. Keep her safe from…the dangers out there.”)

- and he starts to walk toward the tea set, hearing her gasp happily as he lets her tug at his finger.

Because as far as he’s concerned, he is keeping her safe. Maybe not from Splicers, but from sadness, and that sounds like a pretty damn good job to him.

If the man or any of his colleagues are watching through his camera and have an issue with it, they can take it up with Delta when he gets back.

Eleanor releases him and goes running over to the blanket, bouncing excitedly as she watches him come over. She sits down on one corner, tilted slightly due to sitting on the curve of the hill, and crosses her tiny legs, and she’s so small compared to the slightly-crumpled square of pink fabric, he just knows how silly it’s going to look when she inevitably wants him - big as he is - to sit with her.

As if on cue, Eleanor pats the spot across from her. “Sit down with me, Daddy.”

Delta steps over obediently, then gets to one knee and gradually sits himself down, legs spread out before himself, one foot beside Eleanor and the other dangerously close to knocking over the teacup Eleanor had just placed on its saucer.

Eleanor grins so happily, another surge of affection rushes through Delta’s system.

She goes to pick up the teapot when she stops as she looks back to Delta, like she forgot something. She looks around, then spots the man’s abandoned hat - a blue fedora with a purple band - and she gasps and snatches it up from the ground. She stands up and holds it out to him.

“Here you are, Daddy! You have to dress pretty for the tea party!”

Delta takes the hat from her, looks it over, then reaches up and pops it on top of his helmet. It’s probably covering his camera, which will displease the man, but he doesn’t care.

Eleanor giggles, then looks around for something for her to wear. The lady had left nothing behind when she’d fled, so Eleanor is without pearls or any expensive makeup, and neither of them think those pieces of the demolished screen doors floating in the river will cut it as any sort of nice outfit, even if the material and pattern are pretty. Over Delta’s shoulder, however, she spots a vine-like plant growing on the wall and gives a small gasp at the sight of its flowers.

She runs over to snatch one from the vine, takes a moment to run a finger over its wide, pink petals, staring into the face of the flower where the petals become white and lead down to pale-coloured stamen. Once she’s satisfied, she tucks the flower into the collar of her dress and shows off to Delta.

“There,” she says, smiling, “now I look pretty too!”

She rejoins him on the blanket, going to her knees, and uses both hands to pick up the teapot.

She purses her lips and puts on a serious face as she asks, purposely thickening her accent, “Would you like some tea, Mr. Daddy?”

Delta looks down at the teacup near his foot; it’s tiny compared to his boot, and to his hands, and it’s delicate. But he’s got to do his best here, for Eleanor.

He reaches down and carefully takes hold of the cup, using one finger and his thumb to hold the cup around its edges rather than trying to take it by its handle. He lets out a whale-like sound as he holds the cup out to her.

Eleanor leans over and there comes a little clink as the spout of the teapot touches the edge of Delta’s teacup; she tips it and pours a small amount of tea into his cup.

“There you are, Mr. Daddy,” she says in her play-voice. “Enjoy.”

Eleanor pours herself some tea, then sets aside the pot before she picks up her cup - by its handle, since her hands are much better-suited for these little cups.

Delta watches her, then starts to bring his cup closer, enough that he can catch a peek of the hat’s reflection in the tea.

“No, Daddy…!” comes the urgent whisper from beside him.

Delta flinches and looks at her.

“You have to hold the cup like this.”

She thrusts her own cup at him, and he sees the way she holds it with two fingers and her thumb, with her littlest finger sticking up.

“It’s polite this way,” Eleanor says insistently, taking her cup back.

Delta doesn’t get it, but nevertheless he looks back down at his own cup. He’s not sure he can manage that pose, but he’ll try.

He sets the cup back on its saucer, then uses his finger and thumb to carefully take it by its handle. As per Eleanor’s instruction, he extends his pinky finger.

Eleanor giggles.

“Now, we put them together, so they go ‘clink’!” she says excitedly, thrusting her cup back out at him.

Delta carefully brings his cup closer to hers, offering it to her; he doesn’t trust himself to do the clinking, he’s too strong. He’ll probably end up breaking both cups.

Fortunately, Eleanor’s happy either way; she taps her cup against his, and despite the fact the ceramic makes the desired noise all on its own, Eleanor lets out a little “Clink!”

“Drink up now, Daddy,” Eleanor says happily as she brings her own cup closer. She takes a long sip from the cup, then makes a face as she pulls it back from her lips. She forces herself to swallow down the tea, then sticks out her tongue in disgust. “Yuck…”

Delta looks back down at his tea. Without his hand in the way, he now sees the reflection of his whole head, his own porthole staring back at him. He brings his cup closer and tries to sip from it.

The tea splashes down the bottom of his porthole, down the curved front of his helmet; he feels a wet patch develop between his pectorals as his suit absorbs the droplets. He holds the cup away from himself, giving a rumbling hum as though he’s giving an opinion on the drink.

Eleanor giggles again.

“Silly Daddy,” she says, then reaches for the tray of biscuits the couple had left behind. “Ooh, look at these! Mmmm - chocolate chip!” She plucks a cookie from the tray and holds it out for him. “Are you hungry, Daddy? Try it, they’re sooo good!”

He is not hungry (he never is), but nevertheless Delta takes that from her too - as carefully as he can, it’s even more fragile than the cup - and holds it up to look at it…and then he slams it against the bottom of his porthole, where his mouth should be, smushing the cookie against his helmet and reducing it to crumbs and the odd chunk of biscuit and chocolate.

The remains go falling down the front of his suit, pooling in the creases and plummeting to the blanket below.

Eleanor laughs, then fixes him with a loving smile.

“Silly Daddy…!”

…

Silly Daddy…!

The radio in his helmet whirrs to life.

“Kid?” Sinclair says in his ear. “You alright there?”

Delta flinches, coming out of his own memories.

The teacup - cracked, with a chip missing from it - remains laying on its side on the murky floor of the Fishbowl Diner, probably knocked down there from his fight with the Splicers that had arrived as soon as he’d picked up that shotgun.

He lets out a wistful little sigh.

“There you are.” Sinclair lets out a soft titter. “Thought I’d gone an’ lost you to your own private musings. Shake it off, kid - like I said, Gracie doesn’t know what she’s talkin’ about.”

That’s right - Grace had just been accusing him again of turning Eleanor into a Little Sister, and Augustus had been telling him she was wrong. He appreciates Augustus taking the time to reassure him, even if he’s wrong in thinking that was what had given Delta pause.

Delta returns fully to reality then; he’s still got to get to Grace’s place. Get the key, get out of here, get to Eleanor.

Not a little girl anymore, but still his girl - and his girl needs him.

(“That is your one, true purpose now: protect her. Keep her safe from…the dangers out there.”)

Stooping down, Delta gently plucks the cup from the floor by its handle, pinky finger extended, then carefully sets it down on the nearest table, rightside up, as it should be. Then he turns and starts making his way out.

“That’s it,” Sinclair says, even when he can’t possibly understand what’s just been on Delta’s mind, “back on the ol’ dusty trail. No time to stop an’ smell the roses when we’ve got young Eleanor ta get to, huh?”

That’s right. No time at all - he’s got to get to his girl, so he can protect her and keep her safe.

And hopefully, Eleanor won’t have decided she’s too old to have any more tea parties with Daddy.

#My writing #BioShock #BioShock 2 #biofluff #biofluff 2022 #Subject Delta #Eleanor Lamb

[sometipsygnostalgic]

I choose violence also. 11, 17 and/or 18?

Hi :)

I have no filtered tags! I am very specific about what blogs I follow, so it's rare that I get showered with something I hate. I also have no uncommon triggers. I like all common Shera ships and characters. I even don't mind it when Vree showers my dash with togachako or soul eater. Not seen either thing for a long time but eh it's fun.

However, I have had Nimona and Owl House as blocked tags when they were coming out, and I am sure I will block Fionna and Cake soon. Just until I watch it.

17. Non canon pairings, non romantic pairings, or at least, stories that focus on dynamics that aren't just the canon ships! Shera has an incredibly high volume of fanfic for a fandom of its size, however, the fic is homogenous. Most of it is Catradora centric. FYI, I browse the Entrapta tag and ONLY the Entrapta tag so the fact she's a minor or even ABSENT character in all those stories, it's very grating. Other fandoms I am in experiment way harder with shipping or with stories that aren't focused on shipping. Homestuck in particular will pair ANYONE WITH ANYONE, and AT fandom decided to give Finn a catboy boyfriend OC because all his other love interests suck. I think spop fanart has explored a bit more with other pairings. Mostly thinking of users Scortrapta, Fujifingers, Shedora and Kaereth. Oh and me.

18. SUPER PAL TRIO. They're basically a better version of the Azula trio. But in general the villains of Shera are its main strength to me, they are what the show does better than other shows. It's not that SPT are a true found family, instead the three of them enter the found family of the Rebellion from different directions and their little group is splintered. Rather, the relationship Catra has to Scorpia, Entrapta, Shadow Weaver, Hordak, and Adora is thoroughly explorer in a way I wish Azula's character was in Avatar. It helps that all the characters have their own motivations and wants and reasons for being the way they are. The scene where SPT usurp Weaver in s1, and Catra has her new team and is finding success in the Horde for the first time, it's so damn good. It also colours the tragedy of the Horde and SPT falling apart later.

Oh right - Glimmer, in general, might be the best character in the show, amd NOBODY RECOGNISES THIS THEY JUST THINK SHES MEAN.

#she ra #spop

[leafiebeanie]

for the rntn ask game!! 🔥❤️💣💭

hi!!! thanks for the ask bb! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b

🔥- What first drew you to Rengoku Kyojuro/Tanjiro?

naturally, the man's beautiful and thick eyebrows xD jkjk

more answers under the cut! (its very long, you have been warned 🤭🤭)

i definitely fell heart ❤️ first for kyotan after finishing the mugen train arc, but hmmmmm, to pinpoint the exact moment it ✨ sparked ✨ and activated the fujo cells in my brain, it has to be the sleepy time on the train—i am not immune to the tenderness of the scene, pls gtg couldve had tan sleep against the window, or nod off to sleep without leaning against kyo, BUTTTTTT tan placed his head on kyo's shoulder, AND KYO DIDN'T STOP HIM!!! (ง ื▿ ื)ว

for all we know, tan couldve drifted off to sleep first on the rattling window, and then kyo placed his head on his shoulder so tan could sleep more comfortably! 😉😉 anyway

🎴 tanjiro has always been my favourite character, right from the start of the series—he's a very loveable character, dependable, and his "i am the eldest son!" attitude really endeared me 😭😭 similarly, kyo is also a very dependable and sexy big brother, so its needless to say that they captured my heart almost instantly

and obviously, like, the way the kamaboko trio first met kyo on the train, how it was zen and ino's first time seeing kyo, and they were asking tan how they would know they met the right person,,, and the way tan said he's seen kyo before and would definitely recognise him! (im not gonna lie, that little bit alone had the fujo braincells in my head starting to wake up 🤭🤭)

and then how they got to see kyo's strength and power as he slayed the first two demons on the train with ease, and then the look of admiration (love) on tan's face when kyo ran up to tan and told him he would take care of five carriages while zen and nezuko handled three,,,

yes i took so many screenshots when rewatching the movie

my boy's down bad for kyo 🥺🥺

alternatively..... this is what i want kyo to say heheheheh

and then how at the end of the movie, kyo gave it his all while fighting akaza,, how desperate tan was as he watched the fight from afar, hating how weak he was, how he flung his sword at akaza while akaza ran from the sun

and then finally, when kyo called tan to come over and referred to him by his name, especially hits hard when he calls zenitsu yellow hair and inosuke, boar boy,, and how he gave tan and nezuko his approval 😭😭😭

and then how tan could barely keep himself together, couldnt bring himself to accept the fact that kyo, a powerful and strong hashira, has lost to an upper moon, his anguished cries while he was carried away, please, spare me

i just really love how close kyo and tan got during the events of one night 😭😭😭

and i always find myself gravitating to ships that could have been, had you not left your time too early :')

plus an honorary mention from the short scene in the opening song, where kyo tries to get tan to eat more bentos, augh so cute!!! 😍😍

❤️ - what are your favorite kind of RenTan stories? (Canon, Rengoku lives, modern… etc)

mmm, i am a huge sucker for animal settings and stuff with deities, so konpon au, tiger x cat, owl kyo, literally all the ones with part animal stuff, i eat them all up!

aside from that, the rengoku lives tag is free therapy okay, lets be real xDDDDDDD i just love thinking about the future that couldve happened if kyo had survived

and i also think it would be interesting to see how they would live their lives after muzan has been taken down, we have kyo, whose entire life has been moulded and shaped for one purpose only and now that theyve finally achieved it, what happens?

definitely, there would be a training arc, maybe kyo and tan would have to rein in wandering thoughts about each other, or fics where kyotan gets into an argument bc tan doesnt want to become his tsuguko bc it means replacing kyo as hashira,

and even dumb shenanigans like giyuu being salty and jealous about kyo wanting tan to be his tsuguko, bc it! was! giyuu! who found tan first! kyo should go look for someone else to be his tsuguko! xD

like many others have said before me, i think it would be sweet to watch kyo learn how to live a simple life with tan, where each day is simply spent appreciating the idle things in life, the quiet days where nothing particularly Big! or Adrenaline Rushing! happens

💣 - share your most controversial RenTan take. Set your thoughts ablaze!!

controversial take hmmmmmmmm

lets see, i think kyo has the potential to be manipulative, whether he is conscious of it or not

it has to do with his trauma, where he is so! good! at compartmentalising his emotions, and how rigid he can sometimes be about "this is the way things has to be",

im talking about how ruka instilled "the strong must protect the weak" mentality in kyo, and given how he interacts with sen and the bento girl, it sort of reflects that "the weak should just sit back and be protected by the strong"

and i just think that if he's 100% set his mind on "the way a certain thing should be", he might end up manipulating the situation to be what he has envisioned in his mind

like if sen really pushes through headstrong that he is going to train hard and join the demon slater corps, kyo is going to reject and push sen's desires down, kind of the way shin is doing to kyo, but kyo might end up saying things that affect sen more than shin does kyo—maybe he'll tell sen about what ruka says, and it can be especially effective bc sen barely has any memories of ruka before she passed, how he should just let him! the older and more capable one! handle all the hard work, that sen is pitiful enough the way he already is, really hammering in the point that sen cannot possibly do anything,,, that kind of stuff

of course, that doesnt mean that kyo is incapable of changing his mind—proven when he first says nezuko should be killed bc she is a demon and 100% no longer human, but then changes his mind about nezuko once he sees her protecting the passengers in mugen train

gah—i just think that he can be manipulative if he (his heart) really wants to, and i say his heart because again, he might be doing it subconsciously, reflecting what he really wants deep down, and not what he thinks should happen from his skewed perspective as the strong one

💭 - In a world where the train ride lasted longer, what do Rengoku and Tanjiro dream of?

ooh!!! this one is a fun one!

enmu says he likes to give his victims the happiest dream they could ever dream of, then thrust them into the most painful dream once they've relaxed and put down their guards,,,

so lets see, for kyo right, since his dream starts of with a memory of him telling shin that he has finally become the flame hashira, and how shin belittles him and his efforts

then it goes on to show sen waiting outside shin's room, waiting for kyo to come out etc, yadda yadda

i think enmu would continue to build on that dream, so it will emphasize the peaceful, but short, days that kyo gets to spend with sen

then! he might end up dreaming about ruka, about the happy days he has shared with his family, before ruka's passing that broke shin so bad

maybe it'll show scenes where kyo gets back from a long mission and starts telling sen about how it went, and then goes on with him learning things that sen excitedly shares, stories that he's learned from reading,

sen getting his beloved aniki to try and taste test his latest recipes bc shin is too busy drowning himself in alcohol, kyo thoroughly enjoying and appreciating sen's efforts, eating burnt food whilst sen apologizes nonstop and trying to get kyo to stop eating the burnt stuff, saying he'll make another batch that isnt burnt

maybe there'll even be a part where sen helps to trim kyo's hair for the first time, carefully, and then sen accidentally cuts off a big chunk

now kyo lets him and just laughs it off, bc he wants to leave some happy memories with sen before his inevitable death happens, as with any rengoku before him, while fulfilling their duty

as for tan, enmu also lets him dream about his family, and we know that tan so desperately misses his family, how much he wants to sit there and bask in denial that his family had been killed in cold blood

so continuing from that, i think tan would be spending more time with his family, chopping wood and making charcoal as usual with takeo following him around happily, then descending the mountain to sell charcoal as per his usual routine with rokuta and hana tagging along

maybe the seasons would change, from winter to spring, where tan would occasionally take a break and go pick some flowers for kie, and to spend time basking in the morning sun with rokuta and hana

to summer, where he would bring his siblings down to the river and play with them in the water, and he would catch fish with them, teaching them how to spear the fishes

to autumn, where he would rake up the leaves to make a giant leaf pile and his siblings would jump into it, maybe he might even build a little canopy hut thing for them to play in with the fallen leaves and branches

with all the seasons that come and go, tan watches happily as his siblings all grow up, but bc enmu wants to give him a bad dream at the end, tan realises that he's the only one that isnt aging like the rest of his family

he starts to notice when he sees takeo and rokuta looming over him, having grown up already, takeo, getting into his rebellious phase, rokuta, no longer the crybaby he used to be

nezuko and hana, much older now, swooning over the new family that just moved into town, who also happens to have a handsome and single young man, who only vaguely reminds tan about muzan (bc it is him but in a different form, and tan cant smell him very well bc he's already so drawn into his dream, so settled in but just on edge enough to realise that something isnt quite right)

kie, her eyesight no longer what it used to be, grey hairs and shaky hands are her normal now, but still lovingly making their favourite senbei for her darling children

all growing older, except for tan, who continues to remain stuck, frozen in time

and there you have it! so sorry it took me so long to reply xDDDDD i had to get fresh screencaps from the movie hehe

#leafierambles #ask game #leafieanswers! #rentan #brainrotting hours strikes again

[eliaswoodt]

A Ghost’s Shadow

(A Ghost’s Shadow)

Mentioned canonical character death, hallucinations, psychological horror (not too heavy I think though)

(Also, just like all my other WF fanfics, I have this on AO3 under the same title and username!)

Sometimes he sees Mo.

He sees him when it’s so dark he can barely see his right hand to the point he could almost imagine he still had his fourth finger, so dark that the only thing he can truly see is the window on his right, molded by blue moonlight and yellow headlights of cars zooming by.

Lee sees him at night, in the empty corner of his yellow-walled hotel room, when the only sounds that accompany Lee are the flowing of beige window curtains, the sound of car engines revving up, honking, and the rustling of scratchy white blankets as Lee buries himself in them. Attempting to stave off the cold with the thin and cheap fabric.

The window doesn’t close all the way no matter how much Lee pushes down on it, it doesn’t budge, and so he has no choice but to deal with the night’s air as it gently caresses his skin with its freezing touch.

He doesn’t know if he could bring himself to get up and close it even if he wants to, not with the way Mo stares at him. Brown eyes boring into his own, wide and emotionless. Surely judging him. Surely Mo must hate him? Lee failed Mo, failed him so poorly he died.

If Lee had been there…or maybe if Mo had come with him to meet Linnie that day…maybe then he wouldn’t be…

He shuts his eyes tightly and curls into himself. Attempting to shake off the feeling of Mo’s gaze on him, watching his every move.

Lee never dares to open his eyes after he closes them, afraid of the faceless face he’d find watching him in the hair-raising pitch blackness of his suffocating and lonely hotel room.

And so, eventually, his face relaxes and his fuzzy mind buzzes down to a low hum as sleep finally overtakes him.

But his dreams weren’t ever any better, of course.

Mo never truly gives him any peace, whether he’s in the waking or sleeping world.

But he probably deserves it, and so he never complains.

He never complains when he’s forced to watch Mo be torn apart, only recognisable by the tattoo on his right arm or when his mind places him in Mo’s stead, and he never dares to complain when he wakes up in a cold sweat.

Sometimes, however, the dreams aren’t terrifying.

One of those rare, good dreams featured Mo and Lee sitting on the former’s rooftop. It was snowing, the white covered the roof and ground in a thick fuzzy blanket. It was hard to see anything through the fog of the night, but Lee doesn’t mind. He doesn’t even notice really, because he and Mo were talking. Talking in soft voices weighed down by sleep, as they sit shoulder-to-shoulder, basking in each other's warmth as winter’s bite threatens to zap any heat either holds. Voices bursting with contentment and laughter filling the dark night.

And Lee woke up not remembering anything the two had talked about.

Another good dream was of him, Kaitlyn, and Mo sitting on Kait’s thrifted brown couch, sinking into the surprisingly soft material, the couch was small but the three young adults were able to squeeze in. Mo crammed into his left, while Kait was squished into his right side. His laptop was nowhere in sight, the coffee table had pizza on plates and random, blurry objects on it, and the TV was playing some sort of comedy if the occasional play of a laugh-track was anything to go off of.

But most of the time it was a nightmare that consists of the worst things that’s happened to him since this wretched hell began.

An amalgamation. A patchwork of his worst traumas in a terribly long sequence.

This is how his nights most often go.

His mornings, of course, weren’t much better.

He usually woke up at something-AM and stayed in bed for as long as his stomach didn’t cause a riot.

And even then, he dares a second longer, until he starts to feel sick and finally pulls himself out of bed.

He doesn’t feel Mo’s gaze on him…at least not yet.

He doesn’t feel Mo’s gaze on him until he drags his feet to the bathroom.

When Lee’s eyes meet his own in the hotel’s bathroom mirror, he couldn’t help but stare and watch. He couldn’t ever help but watch in mute horror as his shadow—sharp and harsh under the glare of the flickering white light overhead—morph into Mo’s shadow. Sometimes, if he stares hard enough, he can see Mo’s soulless brown eyes staring daggers into his own.

#my posts #my fiction #my whispered faith posts #wf #whisperedfaith #whispered faith #lee wf #wf lee #lee whisperedfaith #whisperedfaith lee #angst #psychological horror #ghosts #hallucinations #fanfic #fanfiction #whisperedfaith fanfic

[thesopwithcamel]

The Three Hat's AU Subcon forest: characters part 1, the Snatchers.

1HT Snatcher.

his name before he died was Luka (yes its overused but I couldn't think of anything else) so I'll be refering him in that name for clarity's sake as there is three snatcher's.

Luka is retail Snatcher, although he has softened up over the years he is still a force to be rekoned with as the untold ruler of Subcon forest until this mess happened.

Doesn't like the other two Snatcher's and tolerates Moonjumper. he prefers sitting in his tree home and reading his book then taking part in this wondeful giant capture the flag game going on but if any of them fuck with the Dweller's he is gonna bring in the pain train.

Still recognises Caitlyn after three years and is (sorta) true to his word about the bff contract, genuinly cares for her as he hands her a shotgun before she explores the new parts of subcon forest and tells her to be careful (he says hes doing this because it will allow her to survive easier and that he doesn't care about her but we all know he's lying.

Idc what canon bullshit gets in the way I love Datcher so fuck you.

Luka can shapeshift into a snatcherfied version of his past self, really handy when writing contracts.

Deep down he still wishes that things between him and 1HT Vanessa could have been different...

Vanessa and Luka were betroved to each other at the ages of 3 and 5 years old respectively (actually built in some historical context), they never really had any choice in the matter but still loved each other (until the flowers thing happened).

Oh btw 1HT Florist is fucking dead, both she and Luka died of hypothermia.

2HT snatcher.

I'm actually gonna call him Snatcher because he fits the name slightly better.

Acts like the prototype Snatcher, a nuisance character who snatcher thing's you've forgotten about and is a dick but deep down inside him, he has a heart its just really hard to see.

A shadow created by an unknown alien who abandoned him on the planet so he tends to steal shit.

Met the 2HT Prince and actually kinda liked him and its one of the major reasons why he hates Moonjumper because Moonjumper robbed him of his friends body, when MJ tries to rob 2HT Prince's soul he hands it off to Luka for safe keeping and even makes him sign a contract over it.

The 3rd floor of Vanessa's Manor happens briefly but unfortunetally he doesn't hold up well to sudden blinding lights, flashbangs are his cryptonite.

Following Moonjumper's defeat Snatcher attempts to return 2HT Prince's soul to his body but MJ destroys the body, luckily Luka had a spare Dweller body lying around which was patched up, decorated and alived.

2HT Snatcher enjoys annoying 3HT snatcher.

Speak of the devil, 3HT Snatcher or Devil because why not.

Very little information exists about Devil but he is also featured in a Swap AU which I've had in my brain for some time now, 3HT is this au but everything goes horribly wrong.

Devil is an evil bastard due to him taking the role of Vanessa, he is also the cause behind 1HT Vanessa's death and the destruction of the 1HT Manor.

Refers to Natalie and Caitlyn as minions since he believes that they are working for 3HT Hat Kid.

stays in the manor but leaves to terroise the Dwellers, tears Proto kid to pieces and battled Luka which ended in a rather brutal draw.

Defeated by Caitlyn when she tricked him into entering a red time rift, where he ended up or what happened to him is unknown...

Does have a very good evil laugh though :).

#a hat in time #ahit hat kid #hat kid #ahit headcanons #snatcher #ahit snatcher #ahit au #a hat in time au #ahit beta #a hat in time prototype #ahit beta kid #ahit vanessa #queen vanessa #moonjumper #ahit moonjumper #hat kid with a gun #the three hats au

[the-hot-zone]

Too Old To Play With Toys: The Sad Truth Behind Sokka's Boomerang

This is Sokka’s boomerang: 

[ID: a screenshot of Sokka’s boomerang from Avatar: The Last Airbender. It has just been thrown, and it whips through the air in a rapid, whirling motion. End ID.]

And as we all know, it always comes back. This characteristic makes Sokka’s boomerang a returning boomerang, rather than a hunting boomerang. This is an important distinction to make, and it’s where the heart of this headcanon lays. Let me explain. 

Accuracy: What’s the Difference Between Hunting and Throwing Boomerangs?

There are three types of boomerangs: the hunting boomerang, the returning boomerang, and the cross boomerang. We’re only going to be discussing hunting and throwing boomerangs, but feel free to learn about cross boomerangs and their construction--they’re really cool. As a general note: the following sources and information pertain to Aboriginal Australian cultures. Boomerangs were used elsewhere, but mainly as throwing sticks, not returning boomerangs.

So, hunting boomerangs, also known as throwing sticks or kylies, have this basic shape:

[ID: a black silhouette of a hunting boomerang. It is shaped like a skinny tear drop, with a slight curve along its form, and it widens asymmetrically at its ends. End ID.]

[ID: an overhead shot of three hunting boomerangs. They are carved from glossy, light-brown wood. End ID.]

Artist: Aboriginal Elder, Joe Skeen Snr. Buy here.

The hunting boomerang is straighter, larger, longer, and deadlier than the returning boomerang. “With it,” states the Britannica, “animals were maimed and killed, while in warfare it caused serious injuries and death.” This is due to its shape, which allows it to travel in a relatively straight line. With its capability for distance and force, the hunting boomerang is a very powerful tool. 

According to Boomerang: Behind an Australian Icon by Philip Jones, a hunting boomerang can travel around 100 meters. If the boomerang is heavy enough, and the throw forceful enough, large prey, like kangaroos, can be killed. If you want to see a hunting boomerang in action, watch sections of this Youtube video. The range and accuracy of this tool are amazing. 

The returning boomerang, which was used in eastern and western parts of Australia, is very different:

[ID: a black silhouette of a returning boomerang. It has two arms that widen towards the middle and connect, forming an angled shape, like a triangle with two sides. End ID.]

[ID: a painted returning boomerang. The base is formed from a smooth, light-colored wood. Designs are painted at the end of its wings, in the middle of its wings, and towards its center. At the center is a stylized turtle. End ID.]

Artist: unknown, but sold by Aboriginal-owned business Murra Wolka. Website here. 

As you can see, the returning boomerang is shorter, smaller, and angled sharply. The shape of it allows it to trace an elliptical path, thus returning to the thrower. But this property is not without its drawbacks:

“A hunting boomerang needs to fly well and nearly straight to strike prey some 200 metres away. The trouble is that the best-flying boomerangs tend to return, rarely departing beyond fifty metres from the thrower. With the returning form ‘there is no certainty of hitting the mark. It may come back too quickly and may hit your own friends standing near you.’ While recognising that the best-flying boomerangs do return, Aborigines defined a technological problem. They needed to strike a compromise between flying ability and hunting requirements...” (Australian Museum).

Now, the returning boomerang could still be used to hunt, but not to kill or maim prey. Its application was craftier:

“When hunting ducks, for example, nets were set up at either ends of a creek or river. A boomerang was then thrown out over the ducks which gave them a scare so that they took off up the river and flew directly into the nets. From there they were collected. At other times during the hunting of birds the returning boomerang was thrown horizontally along the ground into a flock, and, as they took off the boomerang would follow them into the air. This may or may not kill the bird and a harder way to hunt” (murruppi.com).

Still, this wasn’t the main application of the returning boomerang. In actuality, it was used as a toy:

“The returning boomerang was not primarily designed for hunting as it is too light and wouldn't guarantee a kill. Rather, it was designed as a toy for young aboriginal boys. The toy would allow a youngster to practice throwing skills but still make it fun” (murrippi.com). 

So, Sokka’s boomerang? A plaything.

Let’s Bring It Back to ATLA: What Does This Mean?

With the above information, Sokka’s use of his boomerang in canon becomes almost tragic. His boomerang was probably given to him by Hakoda when he was very young. He used it to learn how to throw; one day, when he was older, he would have carved his own throwing stick, and used it to hunt alongside his dad and the other adults of his tribe. 

Instead, Sokka’s boomerang is another aspect of his childhood that was twisted by the war. His boomerang is--should have been--nothing more than a toy. He shouldn’t have had to use it to fend off Zuko, attack Azula, and defeat Combustion Man. Regardless, it did become a tool he used to help defeat the Fire Nation, and that’s pretty fitting when it comes to ATLA’s ideas of childhood and war: Sokka spent years acting as his tribe’s protector; Katara spent longer acting as a mother. Thus, his use of his boomerang throughout the show displays how Sokka was forced into a war-torn world at an incredibly, unfairly young age. As a result, he was forced to adapt in ways that took from him. 

And we’ve all seen Sokka’s boomerang in action. Here’s a video of his greatest hits--literally. His accuracy is insane, and he catches his boomerang every time. He’s more than ready to have a hunting boomerang, yet we see him use his returning boomerang throughout the show, and long after he earns his ice dodging mark. Tbh? I think that Sokka didn’t want to carve a hunting boomerang without his dad guiding his hands. 

So, you might be wondering, what happens post-war? 

Eventually, I think Sokka retires his returning boomerang and carves his own hunting boomerang, but the shape of it is particular: 

“Some scientists argue that a throwing-stick, commonly used by indigenous hunters around the world, is the precursor of the boomerang... Through trial-and-error the boomerang was refined to a point where the most desirable size, proportions and curvature were established. This refinement brought one serious problem: any improvement in flying resulted in a tendency to return. There is little doubt that indigenous hunters brought this experiment to its ultimate conclusion, by producing the perfect returning boomerang” (Australian Museum).

In short, making a good hunting boomerang is hard. Lots of trial and error, and still, hunting boomerangs come in a wide array of shapes. Thus, I headcanon that Sokka carves his hunting boomerang differently, as compared to the other members of his tribe--it’s more curved. This would show that although he's grown up and is in a post-war world, he's changed in some ways that can't be completely undone. 

In other words, Sokka eventually moves on, but the way he throws and uses his boomerang is going to be a little different.

Conclusion

TL;DR: Sokka’s boomerang is a plaything, and this has sad implications. But also? He never should have had one in the first place. Firstly, boomerangs were traditionally made from green hardwood, which I don’t believe can be found in the South Pole. I on god can’t find any authentic sources for bone or metal boomerangs. To be more accurate and still keep with the trend of throwing weapons, I would’ve given Sokka a nuqaq and darts or a bola.

Also, as far as I can tell, Sokka’s boomerang is the only aspect of Aboriginal Australian culture Bryke used in ATLA (I can’t get a confirmation on Hakoda’s name). This is cherry-picking to the max, and it perpetuates the harmful ideas of pan-indigeneity wrt one large, singular culture. 

So, if you enjoyed this, please consider supporting aboriginal artists and charities. You can buy aboriginal art from murrippi.com and Murra Wolka. This article here provides a list of charities as well as active GoFundMe’s for families affected by police brutality against Aboriginal Australians. Thank you.

Sources

“Hunting Boomerang - Extreme Range - The Aboriginal Karli” by Throwsticks Channel

“Boomerang Information“ by Murruppi, Djirrbal/Ngadjonji Tribe 

“Boomerang” by the Encyclopaedia Britannica's editors for the Encyclopaedia Britannica

“It Comes Back ... What a Nuisance!“ by Stan Florek for Australian Museum 

Boomerang: Behind an Australian Icon by Philip Jones from Wikipedia 

Murra Wolka 

Gonna tag @atlaculture​​​ because I think this is of your interest. <3

#atla #avatar the last airbender #sokka #atla meta #atla headcanons #atla hc #YES this is angsty shhhhhhh #am I doing meta right?

[j4gm]

TOGETHER AGAIN SPOILERS

A thread of lore, Easter eggs, episode connections, and background details from Adventure Time: Distant Lands: Together Again! Let me know if I missed anything! This is adapted from my original Twitter thread.

Keep reading ⬇️⬇️⬇️

1. I was expecting them to perhaps do a classic style title sequence for this episode, but I wasn't expecting them to straight up use the original title sequence. The only difference is this final screen saying "Distant Lands".

2. The background of the title cards is also the hill from the title sequence.

3. The ice cream having "50 flavours" and having an image of an enlightened soul is an obvious reference to the 50th Dead World as we see it later in the episode.

4. Continuing with the metaphor, the dirt in the ice cream could be a parallel to the fact that Jake's Nirvana actually wasn't perfect, because his inaction was allowing for injustice to perpetuate.

5. This whole scene feels immediately slightly off. Finn has his Scarlet sword and is out on a classic Ice King adventure, but he speaks in his grown voice and all the slang feels much more forced than it did in the real season one. Turns out this was deliberate.

6. The snow golem speaks with a baby voice like it did in the pilot episode, even though in canon it has a deeper voice. This further hints that something is not quite right.

7. The first major break in continuity is these snow golems resembling Uncle Gumbald and Peace Master, who Finn didn't meet until later in his life.

8. LSP sitting on Finn's head like this is reminiscent of Pen Ward's piece for the 2018 Ble crew zine.

9. Finn being given the choice of helping somebody but ending up helping everybody reminds me of "Memories of Boom Boom Mountain". It's the kind of resolution that wouldn't happen so much in the late seasons of the show, which helps make this scene feel even further out of place.

10. Jake is half frozen by Ice King in pretty much the exact same way as he was in "Prisoners of Love", and even has a very similar line.

11. The Snail is seen here. The crew have said that the Snail has been deliberately left out of previous Distant Lands specials, so its placement here is another very deliberate hint that this whole sequence is "trying too hard" to be like the early seasons.

12. The book "Mind Games" appears a couple of times, as seen in several previous episodes of Adventure Time. The first is as Finn is approaching the library in his dream. It also appears as one of the items in Finn's backpack later.

13. Jake is hurt when Finn fist bumps him with his metal arm, revealing that this scene is not real. This is also a callback to the title sequences of "Islands" and "Elements".

14. A whole bunch of familiar skeletons are seen in the bird's nest: Dirt Beer Guy, Abracadaniel, Me-Mow, Lemongrab, Mr. Pig, and the Snail again. This doesn't necessarily mean that all these characters are dead, since this scene is just a hallucination.

15. Old Man Finn! He's still got the chest tattoo of Jake, and this time we know that Jake is dead, so the theory that Jake died before "Obsidian" seems pretty likely. He looks similar to his old man design from "Puhoy", with the same facial hair.

16. There are several cameos of familiar characters who apparently died at the same time as Finn. The first is this duck, who previously appeared in "Ocarina".

17. The second is Donny, from the episode... uh, "Donny".

18. This goblin guy is an unnamed background character from “The Silent King”.

19. This old lady first appeared in "The Enchiridion", way back in season one. Old ladies are a species in the Land of Ooo, so I guess she wasn't actually very old back then, given she just about outlived Finn.

20. This is the cobbler who first appears in "His Hero". Amazing that he lived so long given all the trouble he got into in that episode.

21. Land of the Dead! This place was first seen in season two's "Death in Bloom", and now we are finally learning its actual purpose. It's a sort of gateway and hub to all of the other dead worlds.

22. There are some more minor cameos at the gates: a house person from "Donny", a soft person from "Gut Grinder", and a wood person from "When Wedding Bells Thaw". And, of course, the gate guardian himself from “Death in Bloom”.

23. Finn completely ignores the gate guardian in the same way he did in Death in Bloom. This also has the convenient effect of not having to reveal how Finn died, leaving it up to the audience's imagination.

24. Mr. Fox! We already knew he would die at some point because BMO had his skull in the finale.

25. Finn has his design from the first Distant Lands poster in this scene. Turns out it's young Finn in old Finn's clothes. But they gave him a shirt in the poster so you wouldn't be able to see the tattoo.

26. The clapping that Finn does while he's looking for Jake is a callback to "James Baxter the Horse", when Jake tells Finn to listen for that same rhythm if they are killed and need to find each other in the afterlife.

27. Mr. Fox talks about a "past life quotient", suggesting that there might be some kind of limit to how many times somebody can reincarnate. Finn's reincarnations are also seen in this scene; a callback to "The Vault", and confirmation that reincarnations share the same soul.

28. Boobafina, the goose who Mr. Fox was in love with in his debut episode “Storytelling”, apparently reincarnated into a tugboat. We've already seen that objects can have souls in the episode "Ghost Fly".

29. Finn is initially assigned to the 37th Dead World, which is the same one that Jake went to when he died in "Sons of Mars". We can only guess at what the other numbers on the ticket mean ;)

30. Tiffany! Despite several lucky escapes throughout his life, Tiffany has finally died. I like the use of this imagery to express Finn's conflicted feelings about him.

31. The 50th Dead World has long been established as the "highest" dead world, and the one synonymous with Heaven within Adventure Time's universe. It was first mentioned in "Ghost Princess" back in season three.

32. It's unclear what happens to souls which are destroyed within the dead worlds. It is a similar question to asking what happened to the ghosts that were killed in "Ghost Fly".

33. Death doesn't speak at all in Together Again because his voice actor, Miguel Ferrer, passed away in 2017 long before production began.

34. Finn phases through New Death when he tries to attack him, just like what happened way back in "Death in Bloom".

35. The 30th Dead World contains Tree Trunks as well as many of her love interests; Mr. Pig, her alien husband from "High Strangeness", Danny and Randy who first appeared in "Apple Wedding", and several more who we don't recognise, including at least one who presents as a woman.

36. Literally yelled when these two showed up. Joshua calls Finn a crybaby, which is a callback to "Dad's Dungeon".

37. The wall of weapons in Joshua and Margaret's house includes the iconic Demon Blood Sword, which was broken in "Play Date", as well as Margaret's auto-loading crossbow from "Joshua & Margaret Investigations".

38. Jermaine is sidelined a few times through the episode, in reference to his attitude in "Jermaine" where he feels that Finn and Jake were always their parents' favourites. I would have hoped things would be a bit better by now.

39. Fern gets name dropped while Finn and Jake are reuniting. A shame he doesn't actually show up in the episode.

40. In this scene, Finn says "What time is it?" This is a very subtle reference to the 2010 cartoon "Adventure Time".

41. In a couple of shots during this fight scene it looks like Jake might have a tattoo. It seems like it only becomes visible when he stretches out his arm.

42. New Death's amulet in this scene resembles parts of the Lich's cape, foreshadowing his influence on New Death.

43. There are several more cameos in the 50th Dead World: Booshy from "High Strangeness", one of the Marshmallow Kids from "Scamps", and Ghost Princess and Clarence, who were seen ascending to the 50th Dead World in "Ghost Princess".

44. Finn didn't interact with Booshy in "High Strangeness", but it seems they must have met at some point before they both died because Finn knows his name.

45. It seems like people in the 1st Dead World are slowly melted away until they become part of the landscape. Nasty.

46. Lots more cameos in this scene: a gnome from "Power Animal", a gnome from "The Enchiridion", a Bath Boy from "The Vault", Blagertha from "Love Games", Maja the Sky Witch, a troll from "Dungeon", Chocoberry, Choose Goose, Wyatt, a spiky person from "Gut Grinder", and possibly more.

47. Tiffany's insults are consistently nonsensical and amazing, as they were in the original series.

48. The Candy Kingdom looks extremely different. Peppermint Butler is wearing the crown so he might be in charge now, which is supported by the kingdom's very magical-looking augmentations. It’s not clear whether Finn and Jake were expecting to find Princess Bubblegum or Peppermint Butler, since both have the initials “PB” and both could be going by the title of “Princess”. Perhaps Peps and Bubblegum share the princess duties now that PB is living with Marceline more of the time.

49. Peppermint Butler has a "Boss" mug, although it's not the same colour as the one from "Obsidian".

50. Jake's ghost has the same design as he did when BMO killed him in "Ghost Fly". I also absolutely love Finn's ghost. This scene establishes that ghosts are just visitors to the mortal plane from the dead worlds.

51. Life has only appeared in animated shorts before now. Namely, "The Gift That Reaps Giving" which establishes her relationship with Death, and "Frog Seasons: Winter". This episode gives her a concrete place within Adventure Time's pantheon: she is in charge of reincarnation.

52. A translation of Life’s angry French dialogue by Shado: “After all I did for that boy. After all I did for him. No, it's not possible. It's not possible no, that... that makes me so mad but it's not possible.”

53. We finally have in-universe confirmation that Shoko's tiger is a previous life of Jake. This was previously confirmed by one of the writers, but wasn't canon until now.

54. I feel like Finn pulled off Shoko's look even better than Shoko did. I wonder whether Finn has gained the memories of his past lives now that he’s dead.

55. No Easter egg here, just want to appreciate this image.

56. There is an elemental symbol on the wall here, as seen in "Jelly Beans Have Power".

57. Tiffany's dramatic internal monologue is a recurring gag, as is his habit of nearly dying from falling into holes.

58. The Jake suit makes a cameo in the fight against New Death. It was last seen in the episode "Reboot”.

59. Finn's backpack contains a few familiar items: the t-shirt with the pocket from "It Came from the Nightosphere", Finn's underwear from "Little Dude" and other episodes, and a copy of Mind Games as I've already mentioned.

60. The Lich's Hand is present in the background of Death's... death scene. This is probably the unseen "friend" who New Death keeps talking about.

61. The Lich's menacing monologues often begin with a single command. Previously they have included "Fall" and "Stop". This time, the command is "Burn".

62. Jake uses the word "boingloings", which is a callback all the way to "Hitman" in the third season.

63. Jake's blue shape-shifter form from "Abstract" appears very briefly during his fight with Finn.

64. Finn's lumpy space person form also makes an appearance. This design was last seen all the way back in the second episode of the entire show, "Trouble in Lumpy Space".

65. Jake steps on the Lich's hand in a very similar way to how he stepped on Ash in "Memory of a Memory", which is itself a Monty Python reference.

66. The credits include a dedication to a few AT cast and crew who have passed away. Polly Lou Livingston was the voice of Tree Trunks. Miguel Ferrer was the voice of Death. Michel Lyman and Maureen Mlynarczyk were both sheet timers on the original series. Rest in peace.

67. The message that Finn and Jake write out on the ouija board is "BUTT", which Peppermint Butler takes as a distress signal. This message is also used as a distress signal by the Hot Dog Knights in "The Limit".

68. Peppermint Butler's reversed dialogue from the scene where he makes contact with Finn and Jake is "Kee-Oth Rama Pancake", the spell from “Dad's Dungeon” for banishing demons.

69. That appears to be President Porpoise with all of Tree Trunks’ other lovers.

70. In this scene, Life is humming part of "Lonely Bones", the song which Death tried to record for her in her debut short "The Gift That Reaps Giving". It's hard to notice because it's so brief.

71. Finn and Jake's cover is blown while in the Land of the Dead because Jake loudly farts, which also happened in "Death in Bloom".

72. The place where Mr. Fox explains the perception mechanics of the afterlife is the exact same location as the River of Forgetfulness from "Death in Bloom", which, as it turns out, was imaginary.

These are sort of out of order at the end because I was adding stuff to the Twitter thread as it got discovered. That’s all for now!

#adventure time #together again #finn the human #jake the dog #lorepost

[eloquent-apollo]

Remember how I said I would write about Nicky having ADHD and then I DIDNT well here it is

Quick disclaimer that this is based entirely of how I experience my ADHD. I dont speak for everyone and my experiences are not universal but this is how I experience my symptoms

He was so fucking hyper as a kid holy fuck like,,,,, chill, chill where do you keep finding this Energy™️ stop hoarding it ):

Got into exy to ✨release✨ some of that hyperactivity bc you just know his parents dont believe he has ADHD

Coffee to self medicate baby oh u gotta focus? Bam 20 espressos in my body

Speaking of using coffee to self medicate the foxes are always a little nervous when he does that, because Nicky is pretty hyper most of the time and coffee equals hyper, but it actually makes him really calm!

Still tho Matt finding Nicky in his dorm surrounded by a lot of coffee and just,,, fear

Nicky hyperfocuses on the weirdest things, its a little annoying (for him) bc these hyperfocuses jump from one thing to another. One week he is obsessed with pirates the next he is trying to learn how to play the lyre

Concentration who? Or concentration wishes it was me. No inbetween

Dolphinbraining like no other Kevin is talking about exy technique and Nicky goes “oh speaking of Exy!” And tells a story about??? A trip he took to some city once? How does this make sense? Hell if I know sometimes u connect A to Z at the speed of sound

ALWAYS REPEATS STORIES (this is my worst symptom in my opinion) oh you heard this story five times already? Well guess what im gonna tell it again. Nicky once told the story of how he met Erik ten times on the same day to Allison. It was their anniversary and he was so excited he couldn’t stop talking about it

Infodumps a lot, he has to sometimes bc if he doesn’t its just,,,, stuck in his brain and it is yelling to come out and he has to tell Andrew about how this obscure sport works that he found out

Hyperficates on series and books and stuff, gets super invested and then one day he wakes up and goes “huh, I dont like this anymore”

Extreme in his emotions, when he is happy he is super excited and jittery and loud and laughing but when he is sad its devouring and it hurts and it wont go away and it leaves him feeling numb

Very forgetful, has forgotten to pick the twins up at least 10 times. (Its okay they understand and its not like they can’t get home on their own. Sometimes they bully him a little about how he left them at walmart but you know)

Executive dysfunction is a bitch and Nicky hates those days when it kicks in and it is hard to get him to do anything. Sometimes its hard to just get up and do anything on the bad days. He wants to fuck he wants to do it so fucking bad but the very thought of getting up is hard.

Has a lot of weirdly specific knowledge because he spends a lot of time watching those youtubers that don’t show images but read scripts? This is hard to explain but thing those reddit channels that just read posts to you? They’re great he likes to put those on when he is cleaning, because extra stimulation makes it easier to do things

Is always, always moving his hands! He pulls on his lips, twirls his hair, taps on surfaces, cracks his knuckles he is always moving always in motion he has to stim in some way at all times because the ✨jitters✨

Funniest motherfucker you will ever meet. Yes being sexy is a symptom of ADHD 😘 /joke

He runs his mouth a lot. He doesn’t think before he speaks he just flaps out whatever comes to mind yes this has gotten him into trouble a bunch of times but he also cant entirely stop it

He doesn’t have an ADHD diagnosis, not for the longest time because his parents didn’t believe him, it isn’t until he goes to the foxes and he talks with Betsy a bit about it that they get him a professional diagnosis

Nicky: I have sexy bitch disease

Allison: get better soon

He learns to manage, he aint a fan of meds so he learns to manage his symptoms and sometimes its hard especially on bad days but it is what it is

Actually this is quite a lot of the “negative” aspects of ADHD so you know what here are some plus sides to having ADHD

Nicky is very creative! He has a lot of fantasy and as a kid he would “read” stories he came up with to his stuffed animals. He would tell the most vivid stories to his friends in kindergarten.

He is pretty spontaneous person, though changing his plans suddenly a minute before he was supposed to do it causes him distress

Impulsive,,,, but evil. He makes a good backliner but sometimes he is like “I should punch tbis striker who was mean to Aaron” and before he can go “wait no” his fist has made contact with the guys face already

Is very emphatic, is a good listening ear and helps his friends when they need someone to vent to

Surprisingly good problem solver?

Says he is gonna do something and then he doesn’t,,,, spends the whole day being like “oh I gotta write this essay tonight!” But he got distracted by his phone

Deadlines are fake ❤️ he will do everything the day before its due fuck that shit. You gonna make me do this three weeks before its do? I hear three weeks of no homework sir!

Just,,, I really like the idea of Nicky with ADHD man,,,, I just sometimes recognise parts of my ADHD in him and that makes me happy. I know it isnt canon but whatever I can project✨ again these are largely based of of my experience with my symptoms! This isnt universal for everyone with ADHD!!!

#aftg #all for the game #andreil #nicky hemmick #andrew minyard #neil josten #tfc #kevin day #the foxhole court #aaron minyard #dan wilds #matt boyd #allison reynolds #seth gordon #renee walker

[spartanxhunterx]

(I’ve watched like 8 episodes so forgive spelling mistakes or wrong names)

Ok, this might get long so… fair warning.

For this AU I was thinking, What if Aang wasn’t frozen on the night he was but Many years later.

When he’s in his late thirties.

The general idea being that, when the comet came and the Fire nation attacked, Aang did not run. He stayed at the temple to help as much as his 11 year old self could.

He watched Master Gyatso Die that day, as he suffocated himself and a room full of Fire Nation soldiers. This caused him to enter the Avatar state due to sheer rage, the state allowed him to be able to save many but not all members of the temple.

For years afterwards he would seek out a waterbender and Earthbender master is teach him, all while fighting off the Firenation and slowing their spread of destruction.

He was able to Master both water and Earth but could not find a Firebender willing to teach him.

During another night of travel he was besieged by a storm and frozen in the Ice like in Canon.

-

When Sokka and Katara accidentally free him he is much quicker to pick up that a lot of time has passed and while Cautious about possible close by Fire nation soldiers he’s still as nice and goofy as his 11 year old self.

He is, however, very concerned about how he can see signs of trauma on the two of them but is willingly to not push for details.

Aang is a lot more serious at times, having matured quite a bit over the years. He knows that the two kids who saved him deserve to be happy though, so he still explores with Katara and gets her to penguin sled down the hill, gets her to be the kid that she is.

Things progress pretty normally like in canon, so when Zuko turns up at the village all Aang can focus on is that scar, that deep burnt scar.

He knows Firebenders are resistant to fire, he knows it takes a lot to burn one of them. So he’s wondering who and why would someone grab onto this boy, this child, for so long that he has such a visible burn.

After he escapes, he does try to send the kids back home but also knows that they’ll probably be targeted should they be left undefended, so he lets them stay with him.

Besides, who better to teach Katara to waterbend then an Avatar whose already mastered Waterbending?

They still make their way to the South Pole anyway, as a way to lose Zuko’s ship but also so that Katara can be formerly recognised Waterbending Master.

When on the Kyoshi islands it’s Aang who encouraged Sokka to learn the Kyoshi Warriors fighting style, cause he knows that non-benders need every advantage in the world, also that Sokka could do with a big helping of respect woman juice.

When they make it to the earth Nation city (where bumi is) Aang doesn’t play the “old grandpa and his grandkids” gag. No, he says he’s an Earthbender and proves it by, you know, earthbending in front of the guards.

(It sends the Cabbage guys last Cabbage off the side of the cliff.)

Bumi and Aang do recognise each other immediately and Aang is able to pass the tests, up until Bumi still kicks his butt in the fight. But the whole thing is a joke on Sokka and Katara, with them in the growing rock watching it all go down.

The lesson here being that, people can be deceptive while also being in power.

-

Any time Aang encounters Zuko he always prioritises talking to him over fighting, trying to get him to see how he’s been mistreated, how the burn on his face is proof of his nation’s cruelty, even towards their own.

This does result in Zuko questioning everything a bit sooner but his uncle did a lot of the work over the three year period anyway.

-

Meeting Toph results in a switch going off in Aang, he hates seeing the way Toph is treated and while she can clearly take care of herself, she shouldn’t be treated the way she is. So he manages to convince (Read: Threaten) her parents into letting her join him.

Aangs main goal is to find a Firebender willing to teach him and to get the small gaggle of kids he’s dragging along to learn from masters and see the beauty of the world, even in its current state, all while teaching them that they can still be kids and there’s nothing wrong with that.

One of the best parts is that Aang isn’t the “last” Airbender in this AU. He’s the last “known” Airbender.

This is cause during his time before he was frozen he managed to get many of the Air nomads from around the world to hide, in a secure hidden place wedged between mountains so steep you’d need a Flying Bison to get there by sky.

The only other way is to Have a Master Waterbender, Earthbender and Airbender create an air bubble to travel under the surface of a deep lake where the other end come out in a large pool connected to the area inside. The earthbender being required cause the actual passage is blocked off by stone.

Or, have an Avatar do it all.

Which is why they have never been found. Cause all the Air Nomads are in the place, the Earthbenders refuse to help the Fire Nation and the Waterbenders keep getting killed.

Ultimately the Air Nomads are safe for as long as Aang is the Avatar.

Aang promises to take them to see the Air Nomad home some day. (Maybe after he’s ripped the Fire lord a new one for burning Zuko.)

I was thinking maybe Zukka? Or what’s the ship ugh… Zuko/Sokka/Suki with Katara & Toph being like sisters.

Just, Dad Aang whose somehow adopted a gaggle of feral children. Really.

#atla #atla au #atla aang #atla sokka #atla katara #atla zuko #atla toph #atla suki #The Air Nomads live cause I say so