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synthshenanigans · 2 months

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something about three days till the blaze or smth

yes I know the song isn't out yet but shush I love heal

[Lil extra stuff below :}]

Twas [mainly] based on the art for the 3DS release :D a more simple version of it yes but im not about to draw every character in the whole damn game but Jash-ified. However that would be really funny tho

Also! I made a MM Jash guy like three months ago but now that the songs are relevant again I might redraw the guy if anyone wants it [or I get bored lol]

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laceratedlamiaceae · 1 year

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Combining two things I'm obsessed with, modern AU where Stede decides to build a giant conservatory and hires noted horticulturist Izzy Hands to design and plant it. They of course butt heads over random minor details and eventually fall in love about it. And then when it's finally done Stede throws a fancy party in it and Izzy is wearing a nice suit and they get a little tipsy and sneak off into a corner and make out under the palm trees and Izzy gets pollen all over his pants

#and jack is a home depot garden center employee who izzy buys bulk soil from and bitches to about the subpar moisture retention #(and then they fall in love about it and we get cj/izzy/stede)#its the time of year where it's been cold so long i'm starting to lose my mind because i haven't touched real live grass in months #someone please come save me and bring me somewhere with palm trees #our flag means death #ofmd #stizzy #stede bonnet #izzy hands #fanfic ideas

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bluebeary-jay · 10 months

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scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))

Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit

Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something

Word count: 7.5K

A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”

You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.

“And where did they take him?”

“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”

You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”

“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”

“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”

“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”

“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”

“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.

“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.

“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”

“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”

“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”

She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”

With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.

There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.

You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.

Now you planned on doing just that.

You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.

But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…

“I’m coming with you.”

Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.

Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.

And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.

“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”

You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.

It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…

“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”

It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”

You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.

You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.

You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.

He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.

You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.

“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”

You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.

“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”

“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”

You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”

You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.

“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”

“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.

You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.

You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.

So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out. It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.

Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.

Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.

The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.

It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.

You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.

Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”

Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.

“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”

Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”

You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”

That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.

As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.

Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.

“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"

The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.

You didn’t consider any other option.

There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.

And paused.

There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…

He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.

The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…

The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.

The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.

The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.

“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.

“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.

Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.

An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.

“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”

He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–

You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.

Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.

Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.

Three, two…

In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.

“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”

Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.

“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”

The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.

Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.

She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.

“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.

“Who are you?”

“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.

“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”

“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”

The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.

The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.

You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.

Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.

You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.

Joel…

“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.

Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.

Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.

Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.

“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…

Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…

And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.

Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.

And again.

With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.

She immediately stopped moving.

“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”

You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.

“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”

“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.

“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…

Should be.

The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.

“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.

“No.”

Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.

“Why… did you take him?”

And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.

“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”

White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.

‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–

You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.

“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”

And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.

They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…

But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–

The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.

Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.

There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.

Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.

The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.

You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.

“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”

His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.

Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.

Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.

Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…

You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?

And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…

You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.

They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…

It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.

You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…

Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–

“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.

Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.

It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.

*****

Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.

The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.

Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.

Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.

What the hell happened?

He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.

“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.

“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”

You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.

And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.

“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”

“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.

“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.

“What happened?”

“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”

“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”

He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”

“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”

“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”

Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.

“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.

“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”

Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.

Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.

Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.

Because of him.

The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”

No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.

Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.

“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel tlou #tlou hbo #btw i tried to do some research on tranquilizers and anesthesia drugs but i didn't find anything clear so. everything you read is made up #i could have wrote it better but.. eh #it was challenging enough and i can't believe i've spent almost a month on it

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blueteller · 2 years

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Kim Rok Soo!Cale – aka. Poster Child of Trauma

Let's list down all the traumatic experiences of our MC, shall we? :)

Body stolen by the White Star's reincarnation

Being affected by the Curse of the God of Death ("All those you cherish shall die") before being born

Rebirth in Korea, shortly followed by the death of his parents

Taken in by his abusive uncle, Kim Seung Jong, who falls into alcoholism and gambling

Either the uncle dies due to his addictions or it gets so bad Kim Rok Soo runs away – that part was a bit unclear

Gets into the orphanage, where all friends or caretakers he comes to care about leave him, one way or another

Choi Jung Gun shows up when Kim Rok Soo is about to get murdered by the Hunters Park So Jin & Jung Yi-Rang, posing as his counselor & classmate

CJG or the Hunters wipe his memory of the event, which one did it is slightly unclear

Just as KRS's life gets stable enough that he gets a job while studying at a university, the Monster Apocalypse strikes and he loses everything all over again

KRS starves under the wreck of a building for a week before getting rescued by Lee Soo Hyuk

LSH takes him to a shelter where Park Jin Tae is in charge, just for him to turn into an abusive leader who bosses KRS around and beats him up

Then the monster wave shows up, killing everyone KRS got to know and care about at the shelter. Hello, Survivor's Guilt!

Somehow, he survives the rest of the monster wave, but that surely wasn't a pleasant experience, considering all shelters lost power for 24 hours and KRS probably experiences the minor ones failing in-person (who knows just how many different shelters he tried to run off to??)

After a time skip KRS gets into the company and we assume life is pretty good for a while for him, under LSH's guidance and the friendship with Choi Jung Soo, as well as their other Team members... except then the Unranked Monster shows up and wipes KRS's entire Team in one go, leaving him the last and only man standing. Hello, Survivor's Guilt Part Two!

KRS attends the funeral of LSJ & CJS, only to be talked about behind his back how he's not even mourning them correctly because he's not crying (those bastards-!)

He takes upon himself to avenge LSH and the rest of the Team, because they were supposed to have back-up from a Guild which all ran away and left them to die. I suppose KRS going after them went down similarly to how he later toppled Arm and the Mogoru Empire, so let's call it his "practice run on Dismantling Corrupt Organisations"

He takes over as the Team Leader as well, overworking himself to the extreme (not even taking a single day off in the first year) to have a 0% casualty rate

He distances himself from the team in order not to suffer another heartbreak if something happens to them (also, my theory is that KRS subconsciously recognized the pattern of his Curse and made himself believe that he's a bad, selfish person who doesn't care about others... just so the Curse don't kill off his Team members this time)

Once again, he gets his body stolen without his permission – and sure, that turned out well in the end, but still: not just once, but TWICE! NOT cool, God of Death!!

He's dumped with the knowledge and responsibility of the conflicts to come in this new world, which was supposed to be originally CJS's job to fix. Come on, it's not KRS's fault he lived instead!! Not he's gotta clean up THIS mess...

Once again, Cale overworks himself white trying to achieve World Peace, because HOW is he supposed to rest if the world comes to an end around him – AGAIN!?

Cale's body wastes away from continuously sacrificing himself (while claiming that he isn't sacrificing himself) and keeps falling into a coma from Ancient Powers overuse

He breaks his plate in the battle at the Gorge of Death and suffers terribly to get it fixed

He gets a premonition that he's probably going to die around November 8th – THANKS A LOT, GOD OF DEATH!!

He also goes through a traumatic test of seeing his worst fear at the Wind Island

He attracts the attention of several nasty characters: like Adin, the White Star, or the Sealed God... which is definitely NOT a good thing

The Sealed God casually tosses him into an alternate universe to relive his greatest trauma

Cale, once again, has to solve problems in another world because he literally cannot do anything else

Also the White Star is trying to murder him in the meantime, so he suffers great physical AND mental pain at the same time - hurray!

Oh and let's not forget, now he gotta defeat the Final Boss by stabbing himself. It won't hurt, the World Tree says...? WHY DON'T I BELIEVE YOU (Also the Sealed God made sure everyone saw everything, nice going there you son of a-!)

And just when the whole thing with the White Star and the Sealed God gets resolved, the HUNTERS SHOW UP, BECAUSE WHY THE HELL NOT

And now Cale gotta go around MORE UNIVERSES to solve ALL OF THEIR PROBLEMS. ..... H o w n i c e

To shortly sum all of Cale's traumatic experiences:

Bodysnatched: x2

Cursed with loneliness and misfortune

Orphaned

Abused

Lived in poverty

Target of attempted assassination (also used as bait for assassins)

Had his head tampered with

Lived through an apocalypse

Trapped under a building (hello potential claustrophobia!)

Starved

Chased down by monsters

Bullied

Survivor's guilt: x2

Betrayed by allies

Forced into leadership

*Body dysphoria due to scars (forgot to mention that earlier)

Impostor syndrome: x2 (for both becoming the Team Leader and becoming Cale Henituse)

Judged for coping mechanisms

Regularly gets hurt and falls into coma

Near death experiences: x[INFINITE]

Forced to experience his worst nightmare

Forced into self-harm

Forced to save the world: x? (at least 3 times and the counter is still rising!?)

Basically, this man's life maybe have gotten better in the past 2 years... but his life is still hell 😅

(I blame you, God of Death – WHY would you consider reincarnation a good punishment?? And a CONTAGIOUS CURSE which affects the victims of your target!? This is all your fault.

...But mostly the Hunters' fault, obviously.)

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count’s family #cale henituse #cale #tcf cale #angst #cale's like: why are you doing this to me??#and the universe's like: because we're delta airlines!#AND LIFE IS A F***ING NIGHTMARE~!#poor cale #cale deserves better #good thing he is gonna get back at all those bastards

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tiger333k · 5 months

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Elaborating more on Jason Grace joining the Wayne family (because why not):

The batfam discovering the poor kid has no idea on what family is when Jason, slightly ashamed after a panic attack, asks if he can go to therapy-

Therapist: what do you think of when you hear family?

Jason, confused blond who never had one: loss. abandon. mistake. alcohol. wolf. soldier. army. burden-

(Being raised by wolves an a freakin army camp is what growing up means to him apparently)

Therapist:… what about parents?

Jason: disappointment. absent. broken promise-

Therapist: love?

Jason, bitterly remember Cupid: cruel.

The batfam: holy schist he is traumatized as hell

The family afterwards: let’s play a game!

Jason, almost saying: okay, but no maiming or killing

Then afterwards when he finds out their identités he tries to remember saying it every time the boys fall into chaos (it still ended up how they normally did)

Ironic how the two Jasons are completely unlike, Jason Todd just being Jason Todd, while Jason Grace learning how to be Jason Grace while still having those ‘I spent 13 years in the army’ traits

Jason Grace having similar backstories with Bruce Wayne (cue loss of parents, taking justice…)

Nico coming to visit because jasico has to happen somehow. Bruce realizing both of them (Jason Grace, Nico) giving off ‘plz adopt me’ vibes

Jason’s room looks exactly how his old bunk looked in CJ. orderly. tidy. the boy was trained to do this. OCD, apparently.

Jason’s death counts as retiring from the Pontifex role, but he’s still drawing shrines because no one deserves to be forgotten

(him thinking about Nico when he had this thought, not realizing it could apply to him too. did anyone reach out to him when Piper had broken up with him and he was alone? Mellie, thinking Jason has did it to Piper, hated him)

Jason learns to cook with Alfred. Because I have this image of Jason with an apron just casually holding a pan looking like a mom (because he is one) and because he wants bonding time

Jason+Dick= ultimate mom force

Tim teaching jason about computers. The blond boy going ????

Damian dueling Jason continuously. Jason being this big blocky blond has to be a challenge

Jason Todd thinking Jason Grace was his replacent at first, and furious. until Jason Grace points out they literally only have three two things alike: they’re orphans named Jason, and they both died

When Thalia visits the family goes: u sure ur related??

Naturally ALL of them tease him about his crush on Nico (another BFFs thinking their crushes on each other are unrequited thing)

Jason being all polite in the family at first, unsure how to approach this topic of home. the family finds him suspicious sometimes, but does their best to welcome him. when his secret comes out the family sets down all their remaining doubt and welcomes him, (“it’s okay.”) and Jason looking so lost and hopeful. then Bruce says he’ll always have a home with them and that’s when a tear slides, slowly, down Jason’s face. He has a place he can call home

and yes, Jason can be calm. He can be caring and stern. He has breakdowns and moments where he’s the strong one helping everyone. He’s human after all. But nothing beats the moment when Jason is truly pissed…

#jason grace #jasico #batfamily #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #nico di angelo #dcu #pjo hoo toa #Jason Grace joins the batfamily #family #hurt/comfort #thalia grace #thank you for reading my rambles #the therapist needs therapy lol

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teriri-sayes · 9 months

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Reactions to the Mistaken One's Chapter 165

TL;DR - Cale versus the red scale. The Imoogi's story. Red crown from the novel cover is finally here!

Soos? LSH = ❌ CJS = ✅

Cale vs Red Scale There was a brief battle between Cale and the red scale. The scale was stuck in Cale's hand, and wouldn't fall off. Add to Cale's problems was the white crown coveting the red scale so much that Cale had to slam it on the ground several times. Thankfully, using the Fire AP was the answer to everything, and it weakened the pressure from the scale.

The Young Imoogi, Perpetual Fist King narrated the imoogi's tale last chapter, but today, Cale got a glimpse of the true story from the imoogi's perspective. I won't repeat what happened, but the tale from the imoogi's side was sadder and more touching. 🥲

If there were some differences, it was the imoogi left on its own to search for fire instead of being left by the child in the mountains. And the reverse scale was not actually a scale. It was the cintamani itself, but the imoogi's friend had forged it into the form of a scale to make it look prettier.

The imoogi had the voice of a young girl the same age as On, and could even transform into a half-human, half-dragon. Her human friend gave her the name "Perpetual" in her hopes for the imoogi to live long.

There were also the sad death scene and the imoogi's realization that she filled her cintamani not with nature's fire but human warmth and affection... 😭

Red Crown From Novel Cover is Here So after the imoogi showed her past to Cale, the scale transformed into a small candle-like fire. And what we were all waiting for happens! White crown + Maxi's crown + imoogi's fire = Red Crown!

The three fused, and Cale was left standing with a red crown on his head. CJS remarked that it suited Cale. The chapter ended with Cale laughing out loud as he got what he wanted... Or maybe not. He did postpone unsealing the Fire AP because he prioritized the crown fusion.

Ending Remarks Well, Cale was in his KRS form and dressed in murim clothes, so it was still far from the novel cover... But at least, we now know where the red crown came from! Next mystery is the background. Which world is that from?

Anyway, today's chapter was half-sad, and half-exciting. As for the next chapter, I'm not sure what's going to happen... If I recall, there was supposed to be another elixir from Fist King, the earth attribute one? Perhaps we'll have more elixir consuming next chapter.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

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battyaboutbooksreviews · 5 months

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Queer Books November 2023

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

❤️ The Pirate and the Porcelain Girl by Emily Riesbeck 🧡 Heading North by Holly M. Wendt 💛 The Wisdom of Bug by Alyson Root 💚 Trick Shot by Kayla Grosse 💙 A Holly Jolly Christmas by Emily Wright 💜 Outdrawn by Deanna Grey ❤️ Yours Celestially by Al Hess 🧡 The Christmas Memory by Barbara Winkes 💛 Violet Moon by Mel E. Lemon 💙 The Santa Pageant by Lillian Barry 💜 Only for the Holidays by Shannon O’Connor 🌈 Homestead for the Holidays by Wren Taylor

❤️ You Can Count on Me by Fae Quin 🧡 No One Left But You by Tash McAdam 💛 The Worst Thing of All is the Light by José Luis Serrano, Lawrence Schimel 💚 Today Tonight Forever by Madeline Kay Sneed 💙 Wren Martin Ruins It All by Amanda DeWitt 💜 Emmett by L. C. Rosen ❤️ Finding My Elf by David Valdes 🧡 Tonight, I Burn by Katharine J. Adams 💛 Gorgeous Gruesome Faces by Linda Cheng 💙 Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree 💜 A Power Unbound by Freya Marske 🌈 We Are the Crisis by Cadwell Turnbull

❤️ The Manor House Governess by C.A. Castle 🧡 You Owe Me One, Universe by Chad Lucas 💛 Last Night at the Hollywood Canteen by Sarah James 💚 Skip!: A Graphic Novel by Rebecca Burgess 💙 Something About Her by Clementine Taylor 💜 Touching the Art by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore ❤️ A Nearby Country Called Love by Salar Abdoh 🧡 Normporn: Queer Viewers and the TV That Soothes Us by Karen Tongson 💛 Sir Callie and the Dragon’s Roost by Esme Symes-Smith 💙 The Order of the Banshee by Robyn Singer 💜 Once Upon My Dads’ Divorce by Seamus Kirst, Noémie Gionet Landry 🌈 Forsooth by Jimmy Matejek-Morris

❤️ A Common Bond by T.M. Kuta 🧡 Risk the Fall by Riley Hart 💛 Just a Little Snack by Yah-Yah Scholfield 💚 Home for the Holidays by Erin Zak 💙 NeurodiVeRse by MJ James 💜 Dark Heir (Dark Rise #2) by C.S. Pacat ❤️ sub/Dom by Rab Green 🧡 Bitten by the Bond by Elaine White 💛 Heir to Frost and Storm by Ben Alderson 💙 The Sea of Stars by Gwenhyver 💜 Bad Beat by L.M. Bennett 🌈 Idol Moves by K.T. Salvo

❤️ Plot Twist by Erin La Rosa 🧡 In the Pines by Mariah Stillbrook 💛 The Crimson Fortress (The Ivory Key #2) by Akshaya Raman 💚 Only She Came Back by Margot Harrison 💙 Megumi & Tsugumi, Vol. 4 by Mitsuru Si 💜 Pritty by Keith F. Miller Jr. ❤️ Just Lizzie by Karen Wilfrid 🧡 An Atlas to Forever by Krystina Rivers 💛 Come Find Me in the Midnight Sun by Bailey Bridgewater 💙 Bait and Witch by Clifford Mae Henderson 💜 Shadow Baron by Davinia Evans 🌈 Day by Michael Cunningham

❤️ Livingston Girls by Briana Morgan 🧡 Delay of the Game by Ari Baran 💛 The Nanny with the Nice List by K. Sterling 💚 A Talent Ignited by Suzanne Lenoir 💙 A Kiss of the Siren’s Song by E.A.M. Trofimenkoff 💜 Rivals for Love by Ali Vali ❤️ Whiskey & Wine by Kelly Fireside, Tana Fireside 🧡 Buried Secrets by Sheri Lewis Wohl 💛 Ride with Me by Jenna Jarvis 💙 Living for You by Jenny Frame 💜 Death on the Water by CJ Birch 🌈 Merciless Waters by Rae Knowles

❤️ Vicarious by Chloe Spencer 🧡 Sapling’s Depths by Spencer Rose 💛 That French Summer by Sienna Waters 💚 System Overload by Saxon James 💙 King of Death by Lily Mayne 💜 Warts and All by Ashley Bennett ❤️ Principle Decisions by Thea Belmont 🧡 The Best Mistake by Emily O’Beirne 💛 Sugar and Ice by Eule Grey 💙 Until The Blood Runs Dry by MC Johnson 💜 Splinter : A Diverse Sleepy Hollow Retelling by Jasper Hyde 🌈 The Mischievous Letters of the Marquise de Q by Felicia Davin

❤️ The Queer Girl is Going to be Okay by Dale Walls 🧡 Til Death Do Us Bard by Rose Black 💛 Leverage by E.J. Noyes 💚 Alice Sadie Celine by Sarah Blakley-Cartwright 💙 Godly Heathens by H.E. Edgmon 💜 Gwen & Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher ❤️ To Kill a Shadow by Katherine Quinn 🧡 Warrior of the Wind by Suyi Davies Okungbowa 💛 For Never & Always by Helena Greer 💙 A Demon’s Guide to Wooing a Witch by Sally Hawley 💜 Heaven Official’s Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu Vol. 8 by Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù 🌈 A Carol for Karol by Ann Roberts

#book release #queer fiction #queer romance #queer books #queer #books #books to read #queer book recs #book recs #batty about books #battyaboutbooks

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mad4turtles · 6 months

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Can I get some Uncle Tello- Baby/Toddler Casey Jones Jr bonding fluff? Their bond is just so cute and funny to me & I just keep thinking about Donatello "I don't like kids, but if anyone even breathes wrong in Casey Jr's direction I will not hesitate to take someone out" Hamato aka 'the grumpy, protective uncle who grows to love his nephew very much but would never willingly admit it outloud (especially to his twin. Too bad for him Leo most likely already knows. again. twins lol ). Cause I can imagine poor guy had a hard time coping with the fact that CJ can destroy anyone's "emotionally unavailable bad-boy" image with little effort if you give him the time. And Donnie learned the hard way 😂

I am SO sorry this took so long! This prompt is golden and I love it, here you go!

Donatello tolerates children. He doesn't hate them because, believe it or not, there is a difference between the two.

He understands from a logistical standpoint that children function differently from adults. They're still navigating the world, cry when a need isn't met, laugh when you tickle them or someone falls on their face, and put everything and anything within reach in their mouth to figure out what it is and if they can eat it. Most of the time, the answer is no.

Donnie understands that, so he tolerates children. And as the world caves in and he's forced to intermingle with more humans and Yokai than he'll ever see (the numbers dwindle daily, but who's counting?), his tolerance builds. Though his position in the Resistance—Keeping Everyone Alive Under Six Feet of Earth and Limited Oxygen—keeps him cooped up in his lab and limits his interaction with people in general, on the odd days he's not locked in there with a sign that reads 'Keep Out or Get Bit', he'd say he does a decent job. Take that, autism.

It's on one of these odd days Cassandra Jones kicks the door of the mess hall down with enough force to send it flying, holds up a dirty bundle with a squirming thing inside and screeches. “I have acquired a child!”

And that was that.

Well, not really; there was a lot of screeching, demanding, explaining and even more frantic demanding involved. But Donnie barely remembers most of it. He'd been busy staring at the little pink face peeking out from the ragged cloth wrapped hastily around a tiny body, wondering how and why anyone would abandon him.

Logically, he knew why. Babies smell, they're defenceless, needy and loud. All recipes for disaster—death—in the alien apocalypse. Logically, he knew it was better to cut your losses and ditch, lighten the load, ease the burden and raise your chances of survival.

Emotionally, irrationally, he wanted to find the blood mother and kill her himself.

Regardless, Cassandra had claimed him, named him—Casey Jones Jr, of course—and the Hamato's had a new family member.

Cass was a mother, and Donnie was suddenly an uncle.

Cassandra, despite herself, is a great mother. She feeds, clothes, bathes and teaches Jr with the ferocity and vigour she's always had in spades but dipped in a new warmth and love Donnie never would have associated with her. It's unexpected, but Cass wouldn't be Cass if she weren't screwing Donnie's perception of reality in her every waking moment.

April and Raph dote on him something awful with baby voices and whatever toys they find or have donated to them by other understanding and indulgent parents. Mikey cries when he takes his first steps. Draxum gifts him a Yokai necklace made from dragon teeth and scales.

(“He can eat them once his feeble infant teeth fall out,” he explains while stoically cradling the giggling infant on one clawed palm, outwardly indifferent yet impossibly gentle. “They will harden his skin and strengthen his bones to iron. No Krang would dare stand in his way.”

“We are not,” April says, “feeding dragon teeth to my nephew, Draxum.”

“As his grandfather, I should have some say in his dietary requirements. Cassandra agrees with me!”

“I will bury you, Draxum,” April growls in a tone that promises unspeakable violence. “I will bury you deep.”

“... understood.”)

Leo lets him chew on his mask tails while rocking him to sleep. He also cries like a bitch when the little pink thing looks him in the eye, drool dribbling down his chin and his gummy smile miles and miles wide and says—“Weo!”

(Donnie thinks Splinter would have loved him just as much. Shared with him the stories and legacy of their clan, sang to him the same old Japanese lullabies, enthralled him with the tales of Lou Jitsu, everything he'd wanted to do should he ever become a grandfather.)

Donnie doesn't see Casey much. Not by choice, but he's a busy freaking turtle and one-year-olds are notoriously for being loud, distracting little things that Donnie cannot afford, now more than ever.

He knows their chances of winning the war are slim at best and impossible at worst. Hope can only take you so far, crazy mystic powers or not. They've already lost so much of their world. They've already lost Dad.

So Donnie needs to focus, work and keep working so they won't lose anyone else. Anything less than the best possible outcome is not a thread of logic he is willing to follow.

Then there's a knock at his door.

Without turning from his multiple screens, mystic or otherwise, Donnie grunts, “It had better be good—”

Cassandra bursts through the door, blazes across the room, dumps something on Donnie's lap—“HOLD THIS I WILL RETURN SHORTLY SHUT UP AND THANK YOU FAREWELL!”—and slams the door behind her on her way out.

Donnie sits bamboozled in his chair in the aftermath of her whirlwind. He stares at the scorch marks her feet left on the floor, the angle his door sits at after she'd slammed it near off its hinges—

“Ba!”

—and at the one-year-old pink thing she'd left to drool on his lap.

“Oh hell no, hell no—Cassandra Bernid Jones!” he hollers to no reply.

How in the shit could she do this to him?! Why in the shit?!

Junior giggles at Donnie's misery, kicking his bare feet madly and clapping damp hands. He must've had his fingers in his mouth. Joy.

“Cassandra, come back for your child or I will feed you to the nearest Krang Hound!” Donnie shouts. Unsurprisingly, his only answer is more of Junior's incessant giggling. Pudgy fingers reach for Donnie's face and Donnie lifts him higher, further away. Junior shrieks with joy.

Growling, Donnie activates the mechanical arms in his shell to carefully lift the child off his lap as he stands, holding him at a fair distance. The child is delighted by this and kicks harder, screaming with unbridled joy and having the time of his life. Donnie stares, fighting a scowl and a flinch because dear god how can something so small be so ungodly loud?

Donnie wants to smash something. Ironically, the indirect source of his ire keeps that desire at bay, but it doesn't stop him from grinding his teeth.

He's busy running updates on their freaking security system, the only thing keeping the Krang from finding them and killing everything that breathes. Cassandra knows this, everyone knows this, he'd sent them an email about it! So why, in the ever-loving shit, would Cassandra literally drop her child off with the one person who has a history of only tolerating children? Sure it's his adopted nephew, but he can only last so much in the presence of his own blood relatives for Christ—

He doesn't realize he's hissing, a low guttural thing rivalled only by Raphael at his angriest, until Junior stops laughing.

As much as they postured and played with fashion, aesthetics and trends as teenagers, Donnie and his brothers are mutants, and by (non-freaky)human standards, they are not conventionally 'pretty'. And according to many honest human comrades, April included, they can be downright unnerving sometimes. Mostly when they're pissed off, their animal roots seeping through the cracks of the humanity instilled in them by a loving father. They growl, hiss, click and roar, bearing their teeth and snarling like beasts. It's worse for Donnie and Raph, the carnivores of the family and most prone to biting; Raph's size doesn't help, and Donnie has easily frightened some of their biggest and strongest Yokai allies with a flash of fangs or a warning hiss.

It's not something he likes about himself these days. It never bothered him until they were forced to interact more and more with humans who had no qualms pointing shit like that out, even now with literal aliens prowling their ruined world. Still, he's learned to roll with it like he does with everything else.

But Casey Junior looks at him—his peeled lips revealing sharp fangs grit tight in a snarl and a hiss he can't curb fast enough—and he starts crying.

Oh shit.

“Oh shit,” Donnie says, flapping his hands, ire forgotten as panic takes over. “Oh shit, the child is crying and I am the cause. Cassandra will kill me, then Draxum will bring me back as a zombie so Raph can kill me again.”

What the hell does he do? Make funny faces? Pretend to trip over and fall flat on his snoot? Kids love physical comedy, pain is always funny! Or maybe he—or—oh who is he kidding, he's screwed. And the baby is still crying, kicking his feet and red in the face. Donnie lowers but doesn't touch him, biting his lip as his thoughts race. Not even five minutes and he's proven he cannot handle a child. How does Raph do this? How did Dad put up with this for seventeen years—

Oh wait, there's an idea. What did Dad do?

Trick question: Donnie knows exactly what Dad did when they were younger, and eight times out of ten it worked. The problem lies with Donnie and his intense aversion to all things stinky and gross and loud, all of which Casey Jr is.

But Donnie has seen and lived with worse even before the world went to shit. He lived with Leo and Mikey as his little brothers; they piss him off like it's their personal mission, but he loves them so fiercely it's painful. He'd look death in the eye and double-dog dare it to do its worst for them.

This is his baby nephew. He's not been around nearly as long but surely, surely, Donnie can get over himself for him, too.

(Even if he is a busy turtle working his ass off at the end of the world. But family is different. Family trumps everything.)

So Donnie swallows, takes a deep breath, takes Casey from the mechanical arms before dismissing them into his shell—“I'm doing it, I'm freaking doing it—” and pulls Casey into his arms, holding him tight against his chest.

The crying doesn't magically cease as Donnie had hoped, but it dies down into kitten-like sniffles that do—something to Donnie's heart, squeezing and twisting it in a way he hasn't felt since Mikey was this small, maybe smaller. Whatever it is, it compels him to cup the back of Casey's ebony head and press his (grossgrossgross) face into the exposed crook of Donnie's neck.

“Um... there there,” he says clumsily, patting Casey's back with his other hand. “Cease your crying. It's making my knees hurt and my chest do weird, fuzzy things I don't have time for.”

Casey turns his head at Donnie's voice, frighteningly alert.

Hm.

With a claw from his battle shell, he pulls his purple hood up, shielding Casey from the neon glare of his computer screens and LED lights around the lab.

“I apologize for scaring you,” he says a decibel softer. Casey turns his head again in response, still sniffling but significantly calmer. “I am angry, yes, but I am not angry at you. It was unfair of me to show my ire that way, especially in front of you, child who is easily frightened by loud noises and yet is scarily perceptive of the moods of the people around you...”

Casey lays his head against Donnie's shoulder, blinking up at him with big watery eyes. Donnie blinks back.

This is... not awful. It's progress. Progress is good. This is good.

He tears his gaze from Jr's—as deadly a weapon as Mikey's eyes for sure—and sways from side to side the way he used to do for Leo when they were young and scared. He hums a tune under his breath, one from that Ghibli movie about little people; he can't remember the film's name but the song at the end was cute and catchy as it was corny. Even years later, he remembers the words—

“I'm 14 years old, I am pretty. I'm a teen tiny girl, a little lady. I live under the kitchen floor. Right here, not so far from you.”

The sniffles die off, Casey's pudgy fingers grasping Donnie's torn hood, tiny nose buried against cool scales. Donnie keeps going, softly rubbing Casey's back the way Dad would rub his shell during Donnie's worse days. The memory brings tears to his eyes, so he shuts them before they can fall.

“Sometimes I feel happy, sometimes I feel blue. In my dreams O I wish I could... Feel my hair blowing in the wind, see the sky and the summer rain, pick a flower from the garden for you. Beyond the lane there's another world, butterflies floating in the air. But is there someone out there for me?”

By the end, Donnie looks down to see Casey fast asleep, sucking his thumb and drooling on Donnie's shoulder. For a breathless moment that lasts an eternity, Donnie is spellbound, staring at the little pink thing—a biological miracle someone had so quickly discarded on the barren streets of a dying world, a little life that had persevered despite every odd stacked against it, Cassandra's son, Donnie's little infant nephew—he cradles in his arms. For the first time he doesn't care for the slimy drool coating his shoulder, the bacteria or anything his body and brain would outright reject.

Donnie stares at Casey Jones Jr and finally pins a name to the fuzzy feeling in his chest.

Oh.

“Oh,” he says. Jr snuffles in his sleep.

---

When Leo turns a corner to find Mikey, Raph, April and Cassandra huddled outside Donnie's lab doors, he almost turns around to avoid the oncoming storm of Donnie's short temper. The gossip in him wins out in the end as he squeezes between Raph and Cassandra to peer through the crack in the door.

What he sees has him gaping like a fish.

Donatello Hamato—the Resistance's resident genius and hermit—sits languidly at his desk surrounded by screens, one hand tapping away at holographic screens, breezing through emails. The other arm curls around a babbling Casey Jr, grubby hands clenched tight on one of Donnie's old rubber fidget toys as he gnaws on it like a dog with a bone.

“The shipment from Asia's remaining base in Hong Kong should be arriving at the port between noon and sixteen hundred hours tomorrow,” Donnie rambles, eyes scanning a long wall of encrypted mystic text.

“Ba!” Casey cries around the toy, kicking his legs.

Donnie nods with a hum, scratching his chin. “Yes, I agree. Krang activity has intensified alarmingly at the Old Port since the refugee extraction six months ago, but there's no time to plan a safer route...”

“Ba dee ba!” Casey blows a messy raspberry. Not missing a beat, a mechanical arm pops from Donnie's shell to wipe the baby's mouth with a cloth before discarding it.

“You're right, Jr. I suppose there's no helping the matter. We must brief the teams as soon as possible to discuss the matter, rally what factions we have at our disposal—”

“Eeeee!” Casey screeches before bursting into giggles.

Donnie brightens. “Of course! We could send the drones! They're stealthier and won't incur a needless massacre at the hands of psychopathic aliens. If anything, we shall be doing the massacring once I've outfitted the drones with my newest Genius Built trademark mystic weaponry! Excellent idea Casey Jones Jr, what would I do without your added brilliance.”

“Don-NEE!” Casey cries.

“Yes yes, I'll send the email and hopefully one of those dumb dumbs will actually read—wait, what did you say?” Donnie drops the screens and plucks Casey off his lap to stare him in the face with wide eyes. “Did—Did you just—did you just say—?”

“Don!” Casey giggles, wiggling in Donnie's grip. “Don don don don don! Don-NEE!”

Donnie stares and stares and stares. A stupidly happy grin splits his face in two. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god,” Mikey breathes with a matching grin.

“Would'ja look at that,” Raph chuckles, his smile a proud, fond thing.

“Knew he had it in him,” April nods.

“Which means Leonardo owes me fifty bucks!” Cassandra quietly whoops.

Tearing his eyes away from the horrendously cute picture of his twin and nephew, Leo aims a sly grin at Cassandra. “I would if we still used actual money as a source of income or trade.” Cassandra's grin drops like a stone, and Leo fights an evil cackle that would make Draxum proud. “Cash hasn't been a thing in years, Cassandra dear. Get dunked on.”

“Bite my ass, you di—!”

The door abruptly slides open the rest of the way and they tumble to the floor in a heap. Above them, Donatello stands unimpressed, brow raised and one hand on his hip. Curled in his other arm, Jr babbles happily and reaches for Cassandra.

“Evening all,” Donnie drones as they clambered guiltily to their feet. “To what do I owe this displeasure.”

“Nothing at all!” Cassandra said, shooting Leo a poisonous glare before opening her arms to receive her son. “Thank you for looking after my child, I will take him back now and relinquish you from your—”

“A-bub-bub-bub!” Donnie turns slightly, putting Jr out of her reach. “I have decided that Jr may stay a few hours longer while I run the regular diagnostics and schedule that meeting you no doubt heard about while you were unceremoniously eavesdropping at my still broken door—thank you for that Cassandra, by the way—he is no trouble presently and makes an excellent rubber duck to bounce ideas off. Don't you agree, Jr?”

Jr snaps his head up to beam at Donnie. “Ah!” he says. Donnie's impassive face melts into a rare smile that Leo aches to see. He's not smiled like that since before Dad...

Cassandra's arms flop to her sides. April, Mikey and Raph stare, rendered speechless until April lifts a finger. “... er, Don, are you sure—?”

“Quite sure, Commander O'Neil,” the impassive mask returns, but Donnie's fooling no one. “Now if you don't mind, Jr and I are very busy bees and must get back to work, so begone. And while you're at it, please issue this new warning to the rest of the base: 'I have only had Casey Jones Jr for five hours, but if anything happens to him, I will kill everyone in this base and then myself.' Good day.”

“Goo' 'ay!” Casey chimes and Leo has a front-row seat to Donnie's delighted crooked smirk right before he slams the door shut in their faces.

There's a beat of silence.

Then Raph claps his hands. “So,” he draws out with a strained smile, “who saw that coming?”

“Me,” Leo sings.

“You bet against him!” Cassandra booms. “With non-existent money!”

Leo shrugs, motioning them to follow him down the hall. “Only on principle. I knew he had it in him. Jr is family and Donnie loves attention and family. It was bound to happen.”

“Aaand it was stupidly cute!” Mikey chimes, floating by them with his hands tucked under his chin.

Leo thinks of the tingle he'd felt in his chest hours ago when Cassandra first ditched—ahem—dropped Jr off with Donnie, of the familiar tune from an old, corny yet hopeful film from their childhood humming from the fringes of their Mind Meld, of the glee and soft, new, helpless love bleeding from Donnie's gaze, his smile, as Jr babbled his name.

Leo smiles. “Yeah. Stupidly cute.”

---

Reblogs are appreciated! Feel free to drop more requests! For those of you still waiting, thank you for your patience I will get to them soon! :3 <3

#rottmnt #my writing #rottmnt fic #rottmnt movie #bad future rottmnt #bad future timeline #casey jones jr #casey jr #uncle donnie #i love them with all my heart #they are family your honor

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sanguinaryfreaks · 30 days

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WELCOME !¡

[pt: welcome. end pt]

Hi! We are Sanguinary Freaks Massacre you can call us Gore or Visceral, we use any pronouns (and neos) but always ask. Our collective gender is transmascfem and sexuality is omnisexual, quoiromantic and ambi (looking), taken by @rockheartsystem, the body isn't white so don't assume. We are 21 years old and are a C-DID / Polyfrag DID system of a lot.

System terms: System, collective, pwDID, multiple, alters, headmates, littles. (Don't use plural, parts, sysmates, or syskid with us)

Otherkin identities: Vampire, Dragon / Bunny Dragon, Zombie, Ghoul, Demon

Therian identities: Bunny

Please be our friends !!!!

DO NOT INTERACT

[pt: do not interact. end pt]

Basic DNI criteria (homophobic, transphobic, racist, etc)

Transmeds, radqueers, etc, etc

SH, ED or gore blogs

Pro endos, tulpas, endos or any kind of non traumagenic system and their supporters

Proshippers or any other name they use

Sexualize age or pet regression

Anti-xenogenders, anti-neopronouns, anti-therian, anti-otherkin

Anti-recovery IRLs or DAs, we won't feed into your delusions (sincerely a delusional system)

TransID, or supports TransID, TransRAMCOA, etc.

Syscourse blogs

Belive in cluster b abuse or any disordered abuse

Pro-contact / anti-recovery paraphilias

Believe in "doubles"

You think transfem alters can't exist in an afab body and transmasc in an amab body

Empty accounts

BEFORE YOU FOLLOW

[pt: before you follow. end pt]

We have alters from problematic sources, if you don't like this go away

We don't mind minors following us but don't dm us if you're -16 please (we know how to act around minors and if you're a minor and are uncomfortable with talking to us, don't do it, your comfort is first /g)

Know that if we follow you is because we want to be friends so feel free to DM us (we are too scared to dm first dnjakckwkd) !!!

We like problematic media but we don't support their creators or the media itself (like buying the games or watching the show on the legal sites). If you're gonna be morality police and tell us that we are still supporting them by just liking the media (we cant control a hyperfixation), feel free to block us, we don't care

Our dms are open to anyone that wants to be friends or just talk (as long as you don't fall into our dni)

Please don't try to start fights with us, we will just block you and ignore whatever you sent us, this is our safe space, please respect that

We won't post anything nsfw, we will probably post this type of jokes but trigger warn them

Don't try to force us to change our name or source separate, we aren't doing it for a reason. We also use names respectfully and would never disrespect the culture.

We don't mind syscourse neutrals following us, if you're endo neutral in the sense that you think they're valid in some way, don't interact with us (we understand thinking they're traumagenic but don't remember their trauma, some of us think like that too, so if this is your case you're good)

We are a questioning OEA system, meaning that the signs are there and we choose to ignore them /cj. We are mainly questioning because we can't accept that we went through that trauma but maybe interacting with other programmed/ramcoa survivors can help us with this /lh

Sometimes we reblog stuff about the yandere stereotypy, we have bpd and we use the term for ourselves

We call ourselves freaks (because we can and we want), if you don't like this fuck off, we don't care

Our DNI here doesn't apply to our other blogs (just to the sideblogs of this account which are the hoard and alter ones)

Interests and more

[pt: interests and more. end pt]

Special interests: Psychology, system terms, xenogenders, Simply Plural, art in general, horror in general, etc.

Collective interests: Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Death Mark, Danganronpa, South Park, CoTL, Dragon Adventures, Dead Boy Detectives, Red Dead Redemption 2, My Little Pony, Fear and Hunger.

Tagging system

[pt: tagging system. end pt]

#intox talk — random posts from us

#random — other stuff we wanna save

#tw vent — me crying and hating my life, if you don't want to see it block the tag

Extra:

[pt: extra. end pt]

System terms coining blog - @cdd-system-terms

System help sideblog - @cdd-system-help

Problematic systems blog - @cdd-problematics

Hoard sideblog - @sanguinaryhoard

Jane's sideblog - @sanguinaryjane

#polyfragmented #polyfrag did #polyfrag system #actually traumagenic #actually did #actually polyfrag #osddid #did osdd #endos dni #endos fuck off #anti endo #complex dissociative disorder #sysblr #system friends

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idontknowmyownmind · 1 year

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Been having thoughts about Jour who loves Cale so much it became rather twisted.

Mute Cale AU

Jour psychologically manipulated Cale to be a mute around everyone else and only talk when it's only the two of them.

She also 'made' Cale to appears always happy and full of smile in front of other people.

The reason? She loves his son's voice so much she doesn't want to share it with anyone else. She loves when he smile rather than crying, so she want to keep him smiling.

The noise others ever heard from Cale is only a humming or little giggles.

Overall, he is such a sweetheart and cheerful kid.

As he grow up, he became a kind hearted person. Everyone in the territory loves him.

Since Cale only talks when he is only with Jour, he hasn't talked at all after her death.

The first time he ever cried in front of people other than his mother was at night when he found out that his father went somewhere without telling him not long after her mother's death.

He was following Ron to his son Vicross. He sat on a chair, watching the father and son duo interact.

Cale doesn't even know since when tears started to fall but the next thing he know, he hiccuped.

It's surprised the other two they immediately went to check on him who was crying silently with silent hiccups here and there.

This is the first time they ever see their young master crying. He always full of smile. Even after his mother's death, he still has a small and somber smile on his lip.

As always, I need to make Roksoo appear in some of OG!Cale stories I have. This one is one of those.

The Soos are transmigrated way before the TBOAH timeline at the forest of darkness. They met CH earlier.

Roksoo haven't read the novel, so they follow CJS somewhat guidance.

They live in Harris village. But even though they know the village's fate, they can't change it. So the massacre still happens.

By the time they need to go to the Henituse territory, Roksoo already has the shield.

He doesn't meet the cat siblings because Cale already takes care of them.

When they jump on the territory wall, they are greeted by Cale who coincidentally is on the opposite side of the wall. He was taking a night stroll with two cats in his arms.

Jung Soo jumped when his eyes locked into Cale's wide, surprised eyes. They just stand there looking at each other.

When Soo Hyuk takes a step closer to him, Cale tenses and takes a step back. It makes the other try to be more careful around the young master.

They hastily try to explain their situation. Cale relaxes a little but is still wary of them. He eyes them critically before he lets down the kitten and signs something.

The four Koreans are confused.

Since it's a different world, hand signs are a lot different. Sure there are some that are similar but it still needs time for them to learn if they ever need to.

Seeing them confused, hesitantly he asked for one of them palms. Jung Soo volunteers his palm. He wrote something on his palm.

"Huh? Cale?"

Cale nodded and pointed at himself. Jung Soo tilted his head before realization dawned on him, "ah! Cale" said him while pointing at Cale.

Cale perked up and nodded again. He pointed at his palm then himself then them and wrote something again.

Jung Soo understands his meaning and introduces himself and the others. They talk some more that way before Cale signs for them to follow him.

He opens his arms to let the kitten climb in them. Soo Hyuk tries to ask why he doesn't talk but Cale just smiles at him. Him and Roksoo know that this boy is Cale Henituse, the supposed trash young master. But what they see is completely different. They also can see Jung Soo's confusion.

They meet Ron at the front door. The old man was eyeing them dangerously. Bless Cale who distracts him with small talk. He signs at a rapid pace but the buttler able to follow. He ushered Cale to go to Vicross.

To say that their walk to the count office is tense is understandment. But they are lucky that the Count is as benevolent as rumor.

They then went to Kitchen 2. There, they found Cale signs to a scary chef. Then they heard it, a voice from the back of his throat that sounded like a happy sound. The Koreans found the sound adorable.

Idk what to add anymore.

Oh! The first time Cale talks in front of everyone is when that one moment when Ron is hurt. Cale was crying and with hoarse voice that haven't been used for years he whine, "R-ron, d-don't leave me-"

If someone ever mentions how Ron tears up? A dagger will fly past them or find all their drinks turned into lemon.

Let's say that there is a competition after that to be the next Cale talk to. Especially between Vicross, the kids, and the three Koreans.

I have one more but I still try to work around it. I may or may not share it here.

#og!cale henituse #cale henituse #kim rok soo #au #mute au #twisted jour #jour thames #trash of the counts family

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tiredflowercrown · 2 months

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there's no bandage (to lessen the damage)

Hehe @panthera-tigris-venenata you wanted all three right? You wanted this right? Are you prepared for what you asked for? I'm not sure you are but oh well.

Trigger Warning: Dehumanisation, Unethical medical practices, Human experimentation

All vauge, but you have been warned

CJ had always been reckless. Ever since she could walk she had been getting in trouble, running into situations she shouldn’t belong or climbing up masts. She was rambunctious and loud and free.

There was no one really free on the Isle like CJ was. A luxury granted to her by her siblings, who held so much fear on the Isle no one dared touch her unless they were a fool. She ran from place to place doing as she pleased. So it was no wonder that it was these habits that did her in.

CJ had been enjoying Auradon. There was so much for her to explore, to find, to steal, to simply wreck havoc upon. Running from place to place, kingdom to kingdom, was exhilarating. She finally had people willing to give chase. The thrill of the hunt had been the most addicting thing she had felt yet.

So when the guards got close, within eyesight, and she ran, her voice bubbled with laughter. Crazy psychotic laughter. The only kind she knew, well the only kind she let the public know she had a reputation to protect. It rang out for miles, hiding her in the scenery to most, yet one guard kept her eyes on her, tracking her through the trees and brush, waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect shot.

CJ had stopped for a breath when it happened, standing on a branch, a huge smile across her face. The arrow in her chest took all of that away. She fell, shock replacing her smile, blood quickly blossoming along her shirt. Upon hitting the ground, the audible crunch of bones had even the guard flinching.

She approached closer, careful due to CJ’s known trickery, calling in the fall and potential capture of a wanted fugitive. The young girl just lied there. She seemed so simple, so small with her quickly blood soaking shirt and glassy eyes.

Somewhere on an Isle miles away, two people scream. A piece of their heart gone. They don’t know how. They don’t know why. Just a sinking gut and a searing pain telling them everything they need to know.

“She’s dead. The fugitive is dead. Prepare for extraction.”

The guard looked mournfully, remembering the details of the profile she was given: Calista Jane Hook, Age 14. She had only been a child.

No. She couldn’t think like that. The fugitive was dangerous for a reason. The property damage and millions of stolen goods spoke for itself. No. The world was far better with it out of it. (It had to be right?)

The body is taken in. A full work up is done. Medical tests and examinations. A full autopsy. A full cause of death and all the contributing factors. Everything is done. No stone is left unturned. No one had ever gotten a chance to truly see what the Isle had done to people before, they didn’t want to miss a single detail. Not when something so fascinating, so rare was in front of them. A whole study at their disposal, no ethics board sitting in their way. Not when there was no eligible next of kin. Not when there wasn’t a single soul who cared about the dead fugitive.

In a castle miles away sat a girl searching. For a way to talk, to get her back, to make a deal. A life for a life. Anything. She didn’t mean what she said. She didn’t want to be alone, didn’t want to be in a world without her wildfire. She couldn’t do this without her.

Finally after much pushing from the Crown, the fugitive’s body was released, but not without plenty of samples taken to continue testing. When it finally reached the hands of one Freddie Facilier, she wept at the loss of her dear CJ, who was almost unrecognizable. She was lifeless, none of her abundance of energy to be seen. Massive chunks of her hair were missing, surgical lines across every limb of her body. Every part of her dissected.

She crafted letters, being careful of who saw her. It wouldn’t do to have her surprise ruined. She mourned and buried her wildfire. CJ deserved to rest, deserved to be left alone from Auradon’s pain and torture. She watched and waited for vengeance, it didn’t belong to her, not really. And the sea always helped the sea, a ship couldn’t sail without waves. They grew closer and she grew more content, they will avenge her. They will avenge CJ.

When the siblings finally reach Auradon, it will burn. Their fury will reach levels never seen before. Lives will be taken, buildings broken into and burned. Every inch of what had been done to their sister, every reminder, every document will be destroyed. They don’t deserve her or the knowledge that their “research” on her gave them.

But it will never be enough.

Because Calista Jane will remain dead. She will remain in the ground (Or in labs never found.) She will never speak again. She will never laugh again. She will never run again. She will never be again.

Only the memory of her will remain untainted. And even that is not enough.

#dehumanisation tw #dehumanisation #medical experimentation #unethical practices #disney descendants #descendants #cj hook #freddie facilier #harriet hook #harry hook

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thinkingjasico · 2 years

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what if when jason woke up on the bus with piper and leo the only memory he had was the name nico di angelo?

imagine if suddenly we start a new series without percy's pov and with this jason having the memory of nico's name (character we already knew and loved?) but jason has no idea why he remembers that name. he thinks nico can be his friend— or a an enemy...

so in SoN we see that the only memory that percy has is annabeth's name— and only then the thousand theories we had start to make sense like "are these mf gay??"

and then in SoN when we see nico in CJ he is shaken by jason's missing because they were falling in love with each other but no one knew about this relationship (except for hazel) that started when nico went to take hazel to CJ (shout out to rewrite the stars ). but nico can't go after jason because only he could enter tartarus to look for the doors of death

so in MoA jason is hoping to find nico in CJ to finally understand what nico is to him— but nico is already gone. so when jason finds out that nico has been kidnapped he loses his mind a little and because of that he recovers the memories he has of nico, which helps him recover more memories of his life

anyway, i would love if rick had given an lgbt protagonist right in our face at the beginning of a new series and had developed their story along with the new prophecy, just like it was with percabeth.

when jason woke up with nico's name in his mind... it was going to be simply iconic

#thats all i wanted rick #jasico #jason grace #nico di angelo #heros of olympus #percy jackson #hoo #jasico headcanon #jason grace headcanon #nico di angelo headcanon #my posts

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lets-play-pirates · 6 months

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Ed and drowning imagery

(I’m sorry if this is awkwardly worded. I am not, as you might have guessed, a native speaker of English, and languages are definitely not my forte)

I'm fascinated by the drowning imagery associated with Ed. It's not omnipresent, they don't hit you on the head with it, but it's there nonetheless (or at least I think so).

It's also interesting that, as far as I can tell, this theme is pretty much unique to Ed.

People die in many different ways in OFMD: they get stabbed, they get skewered by their own sword, they burn alive, they get shot, they get a cannonball in the face, they get skinned alive on one memorable occasion (RIP French Captain, you will not be missed), and so on.

The only case I can think of of someone maybe drowning in a death that isn't caused (not directly) by Ed is Ned Low - Stede throws his own fiddle at him, hits him, he falls off the plank, and it's not really clear if it was the blow that killed Low or if he lost consciousness and drowned.

It's possible that some of the partygoers in S01E05 did, but because of the parallel with CJ's story about Ed torching a ship and how the people inside burned alive, I assume that they died in the fire.

Anyway. Ed.

We get the first reference to drowning in S01E04, when he tells Stede what being Blackbeard is like: “It's just fucking hard sometimes, you know? You ever feel trapped? Like you're just treading water? Waiting to drown?”

Then, the Kraken's awakening is heralded by Ed throwing Lucius overboard; Lucius falls into the ocean, and we can hear his terrorized screams and gasps as he tries desperately not to slip underwater.

If you want, you can consider both the shot of Stede's things being dumped into the ocean at Ed's behest and Ed pushing the cake toppers off the ship as two other examples of drowning-related imagery.

The most obvious example of this theme is Ed's coma dream while he's in the gravy basket; he is thrown by his vision of his old captain - the one who, presumably, taught him how to be a pirate - off a cliff and into the ocean, with a rock tied around his waist.

Then, we have Ed trying to sink the Revenge and drown everyone on board, including himself (and I assume that the crew members who are missing after the storm did, indeed, drown).

He regains consciousness as he's sinking deeper and deeper; he tries to free himself but in vain, and he's about to run out of breath when Stede appears.

The rope unties itself, freeing him, but it's interesting that Ed doesn't swim toward the surface, nor does Stede pull him out of the water.

Instead, suddenly, as he realizes that he isn't alone - that he is loved, despite all he's done, that Stede came back for him, that he's begging him not to die, that he’s vowing never to leave him again, that there's still hope, still a future - he finds that he can breathe underwater.

The last example so far is from the beginning of S01E07 when, early in the morning after his first night with Stede, after Stede’s first real kill, Ed bundles up his leathers - Blackbeard’s, and the Kraken’s - in a net, weights them down with a cannonball and drops them into the ocean.

He consigns his old skin, his identity as a pirate, to a watery grave, and wears in their stead Buttons’s old clothes, the clothes of a man who changed himself into a bird in order to be able to properly love his “ocean deep,” because there is a limit to the love he can share with the sea in his current form, like Ed thinks he can’t properly love Stede until he’s gotten rid of this weight pulling him down, of the poison he carries within himself (the atmosphere was poisoned, the soup was poisoned, and it was his actions that brought Ned Low to the Revenge), until he’s found his true form.

How wise this decision is remains to be seen. I know from the screenshots and gifs posted online of the season finale trailer (they don’t air the show where I live, so I couldn't watch the preview) that he’ll soon fish out his leathers again, but how permanent that will be is unclear. We know that he doesn’t want to be a pirate anymore, not like that - he has been trying to find a way to escape this life since before he met Stede - so drowning this symbol of a life he doesn’t want anymore seems understandable, and healthy, at least until he’s found how to wear that skin in a way that won’t hurt him or those around him.

I really don’t know what the point of this all is. I don’t even know if there is a point to begin with - maybe I’m just fixating on nothing - but if there is, I think that the key image of this series of scenes is that of Ed in the gravy basket breathing underwater.

The weight pulling him down is gone and he’s free, and yet he doesn’t have to make his way above the waves. He’s already safe where he is. He is home.

There is no struggle, no desperate rush to reach the surface. The ocean that used to be a threat, that was going to swallow him and devour him as soon as he got too exhausted to tread water and he eventually, inevitably, let go and slip beneath the waves, is now surrounding him, supporting him as he floats peacefully, effortlessly in front of the man he loves.

More than a transformation that has already taken place, it’s a promise.

It’ll take time, more than the season finale will allow him (but, hopefully, he’ll have another season to work on himself).

It’ll take patience, too, and for him to keep examining his own failings, to keep growing, to keep looking at himself - he still has a lot of fishing to do, and the sea monster is still there, maybe a bit less dangerous now that he’s learned to sit with himself and listen, and maybe the kraken is exhausted too, but he’s still lurking in the depths, still a beast - but if he manages to find that strength within himself, he won’t drown.

He won't drown.

He can change his shape, turn himself into an impossible creature, a merman, like Stede in his vision.

(and isn't this season's logo the image of two merman skeletons circling each other?)

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #blackbonnet #edward teach #gentlebeard #ed teach #blackbeard

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milks-thoughts · 1 year

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IM MAKING MORE :DD since people seemed to like my last post

this is so self-indulgent I can’t. I'm sorry if this writing is dog water

not proofread!

word count: 867

TW: death, war, apocalypse, illness, it’s bad future rottmnt we all know what’s going down

“ And it was nice “

Your hands gently shook, you looked at the smooth ground. Your lover's shell laying on the wall. your mouth opens in a small breathy intake before you sobbed.

" I knew you once, and it was nice. "

You were 16, a dumb teenager doing a science experiment on your roof. the chemical compound had exploded and colored the roof in a purple disaster. you turned and looked at your friend, his normally green face was purple like yours. a small laugh left you as you tried cleaning his face. he pushed you off and grumbled at you "C'mon! let me help- I was the one who wasn't listening to you and made the mess " Donnie just glared and you playfully shoved him a bit

" I knew your brain and your heart...and all your insides "

The first major casualty of the resistance hurt. it was a group of 30 that ended like a few ants on the sidewalk. It was a mission to infiltrate the Kraang and destroy a large portion of them. Donnie's tech had been destroyed like nothing like the titanium was just toothpicks. it had hurt him but no one said anything about it. your oh so rough hands held his face gently. he leaned into your touch and you simply sat there, letting his fears wash away. your gentle touches helped to heal his scars.

"Oh, I could tell, just with a look. what you were thinking, that's all it took "

Donnie glared after Leo, it was their fourth argument of the week and it was only Wednesday. April held CJ close to her before walking off, Mikey left in the middle again. you sighed and followed after Donnie, his prosthetic leg uncomfortably moving with each stride. his eyebrows furrowed in what one person could explain as anger. But you could see, he was scared. you all were. Cassandra died and left a child with the resistance, the apocalypse was no place for a baby after all. you caught up to your lover, his gaze softened when he turned to you. you simply held his face like all those years ago. you quickly learned to become the glue after Raph died a few months back

" you shared your secrets, and I shared mine "

He looked down and spoke to you of his plans " I'm going to plant an explosive in the Kraang base " he spoke of your mission in a few months. the resistance was charging the main Kraang base. you planned to attack Kraang Prime and hit him where it hurt. your eyes widened as he continued " the explosive will only detonate if you are within ten feet of it " your eyes widened in horror "Donatello no! " you yelled at him, already knowing what he was planning " the resistance needs this! " you felt tears brim your eyes as you sucked in a shaky breath " But I need you " the silence had never been more deafening.

" silence was comfy, without having to try "

You were going over food and other supplies, and he was fixing someone's prosthetic that had gotten stuck. Donnie, he smiled at you. It was another late night when you both struggled to fall asleep. You remembered nights like this before everything happened. Nights where you would draw, or do late-night school reports. and he worked on tech, you missed school even if it was hell. the apocalypse started right as you started college, April had convinced you to join her.

" We swapped our smiles, gifted advice "

Donnie smiled widely at you once you both figured out how to get the power working again. the resistance needed power, especially in the infirmary. He glanced at your paper afterward, you were quickly placed in charge of keeping track of food and other materials " you should also write when they'll expire " you hummed in agreement. too many times the food you have relied on has gone bad. You looked at the machine he was working on " you should grease the cogs a bit more, it's not gonna go fast enough "

" yes, I knew you once "

you tried fighting against Leo's hold as Mikey led the remaining resistance away. the plan had gone terribly and Donnie, your love, your life died for no reason. All you had left was a battleshell, his mask wrapped around one of its arms. you sobbed into its hard material. you have never felt more anguish, not even when you lost your parents.

" And it was nice "

the resistance had gotten sick with some strange illness. you were recovering from an amputated leg. April stayed at your side the whole time, they all knew you weren't going to survive. Hell, you knew you won't survive. so you held out until CJ had become a nice young man, and Mikey had such power that he could open portals, where April's hair had started to become gray. you couldn't help but let go, illness was pain, it was suffering. your eyes had become sunken in and your body was refusing food. You didn't feel as tired anymore. You blinked and saw the one person you prayed you'd see in death " I wondered when you were finally going to rest my love "

#bittersweetness #angst #rottmnt x you #rottmnt x reader #donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt movie #literally killed me #future donnie #god i hope this is tagged right

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