#we are plodding away bit by bit.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gremlinmodetweeker · 20 days ago

Text

Prepare for Winter Winds

This is a very fun little fic. I'm enjoying writing these two. Centaur!König is a bit of an ass, too. That's especially fun to write. Well, I hope you like being insulted and berated because that's all he's gonna do this fic.

Tws: Konig is an ass, insults, discussion of PTSD

Wordcount: 2.3K

Art from This Post

Rest of the Story Below the Cut

Prepare for Winter Winds

The door to the trailer opened and you were finally able to look around yourself. Beside you, König pawed anxiously.

“Is this where we're living?” you asked as you peeked out the front.

“For now,” König grumbled.

You heard a truck door slam and footsteps approach. Finally, Price popped his head around the corner.

“You’re sure you’re fine sharing a room with König?” he asked.

“She’s sharing my room!?”

“I’m fine with that,” you nodded, “I know what’s expected of me.”

“Good,” Price nodded as he tied a rope around König again, “follow me. We’re going to the fields out back.”

You followed König and Price quietly, carefully observing how they walked together. Price kept his shoulders tall and straight, but there was a certain amount of hesitation. His free hand was kept on a whip, something you almost never saw used anymore. It seemed inhumane to even consider it. Something told you Price felt the same way.

Beside him, König kept his head high as he plodded down the mud path. He occasionally shook his hooves as he walked. He looked tense, ready to rear up at any moment. König looked like an omen of death as he followed Price around the front of the facility and back through to the fields.

He stared down at Price darkly as his bonds were undone.

“Please,” Price said softly.

König cast a sharp glare at you.

Price turned to you and waved you over.

You trotted over perkily. König rolled his eyes at your display and sauntered off.

You frowned and turned to Price.

“Is there anything I should know about him?” you asked, “like, triggers, traumas, past incidents…”

“Just watch his feet,” Price warned you gravely, “and try not to move too quickly. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Is that all?”

Price pinned his ears back as he closed the gate behind him and leaned on it. He drew his mouth into a thin line, then gestured for you to come closer.

“That one’s a wild one,” Price murmured into your ear, “he’s dangerous. If he doesn’t get any better, he’ll be put down. It’s out of my hands, but I can't do anything. That's why I hired you. I don’t want to see another good soldier lost.”

“I’ll do my best to help,” you nodded with new resolve.

“He’s like most of us,” Price sighed, “we all had to go through it when we left the forces. It's harder for mythics like us than it is for humans. Some of us had it worse than others. I set up this group home to help rehabilitate mythic soldiers, but sometimes…” Price shook his head, “just hate to see another good man go.”

“I understand sir,” you turned to look at König in the distance.

“He’s a good man underneath it all,” Price continued, “most of us are. What you see out there changes you.” He laughed and dug his wallet out of his pants. He flipped open a picture to you, showing an image of a younger Price grinning with a cigar hanging on his lip, fangs peaking out over his bottom lip. “I used to smile like this,” Price said, “not anymore.”

You looked at the happy picture of Price, eyes shining bright as he looked into the camera. The Price of today looked worn down, decrepit. He looked aged beyond his years. Even the way he held his ears was different.

“Johnny told me things about serving,” you said quietly.

“It never leaves you,” Price chuckled, “still get up at five every day. I haven’t slept in for about twenty odd years now,” he sighed and clapped the top of the fence with a broad paw, “Whelp, I won’t keep you. Just do your best.”

“I will sir,” you promised again, “I’ll bring him back.”

Price gave you a wave as he walked back to the truck. You watched him trail away with his tail wagging slowly until he’d turned around the corner of the main building. Finally, you were alone with König.

You turned around to see König in the distance, staring into a far off field of mythics. With nothing else to do, you trotted over to his side.

“Hey,” you called as you approached.

König jolted, then turned to glare at you. He watched you approach and growled.

“There’s an entire field around us and you’re choosing to be here,” he observed bitterly.

“You’re the only mythic here that I know,” you chirped, “and you’re fun to talk to.”

“Unfortunate,” he snorted as he turned to go back to the lean to, “I don’t feel like talking.”

And with that, he left you to stand and watch him walk away. Your mouth flapped a couple of times before you brought yourself together and skipped to his side.

“Well, if you don’t like talking, what do you do all day?” you asked as König punched in a few numbers into a vending machine.

“I eat,” he shrugged.

“That’s it?”

“And shit.”

Pleasant.

König snickered to himself as he watched your ears pin back for a moment.

“Are you usually kept alone here?” you asked, “or do you like to be with the others?”

“The others are farther into the field. I tend to keep to myself,” König grunted.

“Really? Doesn’t that make you feel lonely?” you asked as you stepped up to grab hay from the hanger.

König swung his hind quarters in front of you, effectively blocking you off the vending machine completely.

“You’re not seriously doing this to me.”

“There’s another vending machine on the other side of the field,” he pointed to another lean-to, “this one’s mine. You can go eat with the others.”

You looked into the far distance and pinned your ears again. When you looked back at König, he was happily munching on an oat cake.

You looked out into the distance to see a few centaurs talking amongst each other. Behind them a dragon and a cyclops were playing basketball on a small court while a few kelpies lay beside a pond to chat. To the side, you could see some track courses set out, designed to accommodate a wide variety of mythics. A bit farther off, you could see a few monsters scaling a rock wall.

“Looks pretty nice around here,” you murmured to yourself.

König flicked his ear, but he admitted, “It is. A lot better than your old place.”

“What?” you scoffed, “it was great! Johnny ran a great care facility! It just didn’t really cater to anything other than centaurs, satyrs, even a couple of nagas too at one point…” you shook your head, “what I mean to say is that it was great. I learned a lot there.”

“Not enough,” he grumbled.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to doubt my qualifications here,” you huffed and pointedly adjusted your vest, “now look, why don’t you show me around a little? If I’m going to be honest, I’ve never been to a mixed species facility like this one.”

“It’s horrible. I hate it here.”

“Well, I can imagine,” you shrugged, “didn’t you say you ‘weren’t supposed to be here’ or something?”

König nodded, “Exactly. This place is a waste of my time. The longer I’m here, the less likely they’ll let me back on the field.”

“And that’s what you want?” you asked.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Of fucking course that’s ‘what I want’. It’s my job, Apple.”

“Okay, but Price said you’re here because of the courts?” you asked as König slowly plodded out to the field.

“Apparently, they think that I’m unfit to serve,” König snorted, “the idiots up top are too stuck up their own ass to know left from right. How would they know if I’m ‘fit to serve’? Idiots.”

“So, how long have you been here then?” you moved up to König’s side.

He glared down at you and took another bite out of his oatcake before he said, “Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” you frowned, “that’s weird.”

“Why?”

“Well, usually intensive one-on-one support is only given to people after three months of group therapy,” you explained, “so the fact that Price hired me now is just… Well, it’s weird.”

“I don’t go to group therapy,” König snapped, “they say I’m too much of a risk.”

You eyed the muscles in König’s muscles as he stalked beside you. He could easily take you out with one kick if he tried. The fact that he was deemed too risky for groups had you on edge.

“If you don’t go to groups, what do you do around here?” you asked.

“I already told you,” he shrugged, “I eat, I shit, sometimes I read a book. They still won’t give me my phone back yet.”

“Usually phones aren’t given to patients until they’ve passed certain psych evaluations,” you explained.

“Pysch evaluations,” König sneered, “what a load of bullshit.”

“I disagree, but you’re entitled to your opinions.”

Just as König was about to reply, you heard a few voices in the distance. Beside you, König tensed up.

“Who are those people?” you asked and tried to look around König.

“They’re nobodies,” he hissed, “just ignore them.”

That got your attention. You ducked your head back to see the monsters.

König stopped abruptly, effectively blocking your view.

“What?” you asked.

“I told you, it doesn’t matter,” König snapped, “why do you care what they’re doing?”

“Well, if I’m going to be your therapy partner, I need to know what sort of environment we’re in right now. If we’re around some potential risks-”

“I think I’d know if we were around potential risks,” König said coldly, “I was a soldier. I’m used to danger.”

“Well, what kind of soldier were you?” you asked.

For the first time since you met him, König’s chest puffed with pure pride.

“I was in the special forces,” he said, “the Jagkommando. You ever heard of them?”

“No I haven’t,” you said.

“They’re an Austrian special forces unit specializing in operating under intense conditions. I had to go for three days without sleep to get in,” König crowed, “I specialized in a mountain team before I left to KorTac. There I rose up to the rank of colonel.”

“Wait, three days?”

“Ja,” König said with a puffed chest, “it wasn’t that bad.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless.

“You laugh, but most people failed.”

“No I believe you, I promise. I just think you’ve got rose-tinted glasses," you laughed.

“What? No!”

“I think if you had to do it again you’d hate every moment.”

“I would love it,” König huffed.

“Are you sure? You’re not exactly young anymore,” you mused.

“And how old do you think I am?” König asked incredulously.

“I dunno, forty? Forty five?”

“Forty-” König faltered, “forty five!?”

“Well sorry, but it’s hard to tell when you have that hood on. And you said you were a colonel, right?” you said.

“I’m not even thirty five,” he spluttered, “I don’t even know how you came to that conclusion! Why?”

“Well,” you crossed your arms over your chest, “you’re big, you have a bunch of scars, you act like an old man, do you want me to keep going?”

“That’s enough,” König grumbled, “why don’t you rub it in a little more…”

“You have a raspy voice-”

“Are you sure you’re meant to be a therapist?” König finally cut you off.

“Well,” you wobbled your hand in the air, “sorta. I’m not a therapist, I’m more like a therapeutic tool. I’m not meant to actually work on your mental health so much as I’m meant to be a stabilizing force. Essentially, I’m here if you need a hug.”

“I don’t need a hug.”

“Clearly,” you snorted, “but no, I’m not actually bound by the normal rules licensed therapists have to follow. I have rules I have to follow, sure, but my job is more about keeping you stable and providing company than it is about helping you work through mental challenges. Do you see a therapist here?”

“Yes,” König grunted, “Dr. Laswell.”

“Oh I think I’ve heard of her,” you muttered, “I think Johnny worked with her for a while.

“Anyways, I should probably touch base with her before we go to bed tonight. I’m thinking they’re probably setting up our joint room right now.”

“Joint room?” König spat, “you’re not actually going to be staying in my room, are you?”

“Sorry, but I don’t make the rules,” you held up your hands, “take it up with Price.”

“I will,” König started trotting over towards a large grey building. On the side, a large door was left open to let creatures in and out.

“Where are you going?” you asked as you followed along.

“To see if I can talk to Price.”

You snorted. This was going to be good.

“What do you mean no?”

“Just that,” Price said as he cleaned his claws with a pick, ��I’m not getting her a separate room. She’s been hired to stay by your side when she's on the clock. I’m not going to budge on this.”

“So you keep me here against my will, and now you’re not even giving me any time to be alone?” König snarled, “just what the hell is this place? What right do you have?”

Price sheathed his claws to look at him from under the brim of his hat, “I own this place. You’re staying on my property, at the expense of my company. If you don’t want it, find another place that will take you in.”

König stomped his foot down and Price puffed up his fur. Before he could do anything, you gently rubbed your flank against König’s side. König hesitated, then lowered his hoof quietly.

“See that?” he pointed a pencil at you both, “that’s why she’s here. That right there.”

König let out a slow breath. He looked at you, then back at Price.

“I’m not meant to be here,” he said once more and then turned and left the room.

“See what I mean?” Price said, “that’s only the start of it. He’s a bloody nightmare, that one.”

“What would he have done if I weren’t here?” you asked.

“Probably would’ve toppled over my desk if I’m going to be honest,” Price sighed and slumped back into his chair, “you’ve got your work cut out for you tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Oh yeah sweetheart,” Price grinned wide enough to show off his fangs, “just wait ‘till you deal with the night terrors.”

Konig Dump

Konig Alternate Universes

Centaur!Konig

56 notes · View notes

teshadraws · 5 months ago

Text

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 67]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

AO3 Link

Team Scarlet works through the emotional aftermath of the disaster at Bethoc Bluffs.

Once Ezra and Team Evergreen are teleported up to the medics, Tobias and Nia are left on the flight floor with Alistair and the other psychics.

Alistair turns to them with an exhausted sigh. “Are you two all right?”

Nia, still sniffling into Tobias’ shoulder, doesn’t answer.

“We’re not hurt,” Tobias answers. All right is a bit of a stretch, though.

The gardevoir seems to understand, eyes softening. “What happened?”

Tobias recognizes that tone. It’s caring, but firm enough that it’s an order. Alistair probably needs to inform August, Verene, and the medics about what happened, and wants to get it done right away before he forgets in the chaos.

“We went into the dungeon,” Tobias says, dropping his eyes. “Team Evergreen followed us in. One of the towers collapsed on top of Ezra and crushed his arm.”

Alistair doesn’t scold them or reassure them. He simply hums in understanding. “I’ll pass that info along to the medics and let Verene know you’re back at the guild. Evacuation is almost complete, so why don’t you two head to your quarters and get some rest?”

Nia doesn’t answer, lifting her head from Tobias’ shoulder to instead stare down at her paws. Tobias nods. He doesn’t want to go back out there anyways—not after what happened to Ezra. Even if Tobias sort of feels like they’re running away from their duties.

“Could you have Verene let our teammate Samir know we’re back?” Tobias asks, quiet. “They weren’t with us when we went in.”

Alistair assures them that he can, then recommends again that they get some sleep.

“Ezra is in good hands,” the gardevoir adds before turning back to the other psychics, who are teleporting another team and a few evacuees into the guild in a blinding flash of light.

Tobias watches the proceedings dully. Behind he and Nia, one of the open flight ports lets rain mist in against their backs, and Tobias is at least grateful for his poncho shielding him from the worst of it. The weather is finally slowing down too, a gentle drizzle rather than a downpour. When Tobias looks, the sky is lighter, a sleepy pre-dawn gray rather than the pitch black of night.

Beside him, Nia stares into space with tired eyes. Her ears and tail hang low.

“C’mon,” Tobias mutters, taking Nia’s paw. “Let’s get some rest.”

Nia lets him tug her into motion and back to their quarters. The Seekers floor is unusually quiet when the reach it, and the two of them plod by the other teams’ rooms in equal silence.

When they open the door to their room, Junie immediately pops out of the blankets, clearly having not slept a wink since they left.

“You’re back! Thank God. I was going stir-crazy in here and you had me all worried about—"

Junie stops when she really takes them in.

“…Everything okay?” Junie asks, quieter. Her eyes flick over Tobias’ shoulder. “Where’s Samir?”

“Samir’s fine,” Tobias rasps, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “Probably not happy with us, but safe. We…”

“I made us do something stupid,” Nia whispers. She sniffs, swallowing hard. “Ezra got hurt.”

“Oh…” Junie falters, watching Nia with uncertain eyes. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Nia wipes at her face and shakes her head, trudging over to the bed and crawling under the covers to hide. She curls into a tight ball rather than sprawling everywhere like she usually does, and Tobias’ wordlessly follows her example, taking off his rain poncho and climbing into the mountain of blankets and pillows as well.

“Later,” Tobias says, feeling Junie’s questioning eyes on him. “Just…I need to sleep a while first.”

Junie doesn’t push, thankfully. She just sighs and moves to burrow under the blankets next to Nia.

Tobias hesitates before taking the second blanket and curling up too, his spine pressed to Nia’s through the blankets.

The covers feel scratchy against his scales, his skin sensitive and raw after being out in the rain for so long. He tries to ignore it, closing his eyes and willing sleep to come. He’s exhausted, and he just…doesn’t want to think about this. Not yet.

Tobias must fall asleep quicker than he expects, because the next thing he knows he’s waking up with a gasp, and fighting his way free of the covers, heart pounding hard in his chest. He looks around wildly, panting as he catches his bearings.

Right. They’re home. And despite feeling like he hadn’t slept a blink, he must’ve been out for hours. Late morning sunshine lights their room with a soft, gentle glow through the leaf blinds.

Vaguely, Tobias recalls wisps of the nightmares he must’ve had. Memories, of a sort. Cold fur and stiff muscle under his fingers. Ezra’s voice, screaming. The rumble of rock, and then Nia’s voice screaming in the sneasel’s place. Or maybe Vivi’s. Tobias can’t be sure. Even now, the sensations are fading fast.

Whatever he dreamed, it certainly didn’t help him feel well-rested. Tobias groans and rubs at his temple. He feels a headache coming on, and he’s tempted to try going back to sleep. Not like he wants to face what he knows awaits them in the waking world anyways.

The guilt.

Tobias takes a few minutes to calm himself, then lifts his head again once he feels more at ease. Beside him, Nia and Junie are still fast asleep, two motionless lumps under the covers. Nia’s tail is poking out.

Tobias is surprised to hear another source of soft breathing, though, and looks past them to find Samir has returned as well, curled up on the bed without a blanket on Nia’s other side.

Tobias watches the skiddo sleep for a moment, the guilt in his chest growing heavier.

Samir tried to stop them from going into the dungeon. Tobias is sure they’ll have something to say about that—and rightfully so. It was a stupid decision. Beyond reckless. But he couldn’t let Nia go alone, and he didn’t fight her once they met that plusle wailing for her sister.

Tobias sees the minun’s body in his mind’s eye for a moment, her pale fur wet and dirty and her body unnaturally still.

Tobias shakes his head as if he can physically dislodge the image. Still, the heaviness in his chest remains.

They weren’t fast enough. Once again, he couldn’t save someone’s sister. Couldn’t save anyone. Was there even a chance they could, if they’d moved quicker? Or were all the casualties already dead long before they even stepped foot into the dungeon?

…Does it matter? Ezra is seriously injured, either way. And they accomplished nothing.

Tobias takes a long, shaky breath, and pushes himself up. He slips out of the bed to stretch, yawning until his jaw cracks. He still feels exhausted, his limbs heavy. After a moment of hesitation, Tobias grabs his warm blanket and pulls it over Samir, hoping to alleviate some of the guilt in his chest.

Then, he goes to the window, peeking past the blind to find that the clouds have mostly cleared, only a few wisps remaining from last night’s storm. The sky is a light, wintery blue and bright with sun. The autumn-toned forest below smells wet with rain, and the air bites at his cheeks.

Last night almost feels like it was a bad dream.

Tobias looks over at the bed again, throat tightening as he thinks of the bits of his nightmare that he remembers. Endless, stinging rain. Digging, digging, digging. Rumbling and death and tired fear. Ezra screaming. Nia too.

That could’ve easily been Nia pinned beneath that tower instead, and it makes him physically nauseous to think about. He can’t imagine how Andyn and Jaz are faring.

They should check on Ezra today, even if some part of Tobias is terrified to find that they couldn’t save the sneasel. That he died while they slept.

Tobias shakes his head. No. No use thinking like that.

A quiet shift of the covers on the bed makes Tobias look back. Junie’s awake, the rookidee’s head poking out of the covers as she blinks sleep from her eyes.

“Hey,” she whispers. She glances at Nia, then Samir, then back. Some of what Tobias is feeling must be on his face, because she doesn’t don her usual smug smirk. Instead, she carefully extricates herself from the nest and flutters to his side. “You all right?”

“Not really.” Tobias says. He lets the blind close.

“What happened out there?” Junie asks.

“…Let’s get some food for everyone and I’ll tell you on the way.”

Junie doesn’t respond aside from fluttering up to perch on his shoulder. Tobias welcomes the grounding sensation of her tiny, prickling claws and the gentle brush of her feathers against the side of his jaw.

————————————————————————————————

It’s a bit closer to noon when Tobias and Junie return to Team Scarlet’s room, Tobias gently kicking the door open to avoid dropping any of the fruit In his arms. He doubts they’ll need so much, even for the four of them, but he wanted to be prepared with some light, easy snacks. Although Junie mentioned not having much of an appetite after hearing about their night, and he can’t imagine Nia and Samir will be very hungry, either.

Nia is awake, though she apparently hasn’t been for long. She’s sitting up in bed with the blankets pooled around her as she rubs at her eyes.

Samir is awake too, but much more alert. The skiddo is sitting by the window, peering past the blinds like Tobias had been. When they turn, their expression is unreadable but definitely not happy.

Tobias sets the pile of food down, meeting the skiddo’s eyes. “Food.”

Nia slips out of bed with one of the blankets wrapped around her shoulders and stumbles over, muttering a word of thanks before picking listlessly through the offerings.

Samir abandons the window to approach the rest of them and lock eyes with Tobias.

Tobias holds back a sigh. “…Guessing you want to talk?”

Nia stops pretending to look through the food, looking up at Samir with wide eyes.

Samir nods, once.

Tobias bites back irritation as he glances down at Nia, huddled in her blanket as if that could protect her from the world. “This can’t wait a day?”

Samir hesitates. They glance down at Nia too, but then shake their head, resolute.

“Fine,” Tobias grumbles. He flops down on the plush scarlet rug in the center of the room.

Nia tentatively joins him, pulling the blanket closer around herself. Tobias isn’t sure if she’s genuinely cold or just needs it for comfort. Junie wordlessly hops into the riolu’s lap for moral support.

Tobias looks at Samir. “I don’t know if anyone caught you up, but—"

Samir cuts him off with a curt nod, only a twitch of their brow betraying any emotion. Word must’ve spread about Ezra’s injury, then.

Heavy silence falls between them.

Samir opens their mouth, then stops. Their brow furrows. They stamp a hoof, once, clearly frustrated, and huff a breath through their nostrils.

Right. Whistle communication can only get you so far. It can’t be easy to be upset and be physically unable to articulate it. Tobias quickly stuffs away any pity that might be showing on his face.

“Do you want some paper?” Nia asks, quiet.

Samir only looks more frustrated at the offer. They look around the room, then suddenly stop, as if struck with an idea.

The skiddo frowns at them and taps their hoof on the floor twice, as if to tell them to stay here.

Then, they leave the room.

Tobias blinks. He exchanges an uncertain look with Nia.

“Uh. Where’d they go?” Junie asks.

“Dunno,” Tobias mumbles.

A minute passes.

Then, they hear the telltale sound of Samir’s hooves against the wooden floor. The skiddo stalks into the room, shoulders tense, and positions themself across from Tobias and Nia.

To Tobias’ surprise, Avery trails in behind them. The kirlia offers the three of them a strained smile and a little wave before joining Samir’s side.

“Samir asked me to act as a telepathic translator for a few minutes,” Avery says. They glance at the skiddo and the tension visible in every rigid line of their body. “They have some things they want to say without getting muddled.”

Tobias blinks, surprised. Psychic ‘mon using telepathy isn’t an uncommon disability aid for mute ‘mon, but he’d assumed Samir wouldn’t be comfortable asking someone they’d only met once to do the job. Especially for a situation like this.

Though, looking at the way Samir holds their head, jaw clenched, maybe they’re just so upset that it’s worth the discomfort.

Tobias fights the urge to squirm with renewed shame, and nods. “Right. Uh…go ahead, then.”

Samir glances at Avery.

Avery says, “I’m angry.”

Tobias winces. Yeah, he thought that would be the case.

“I know you were doing what you thought was right, going into the dungeon. In a way, that’s admirable,” Avery says, watching Samir’s face.

While the kirlia doesn’t have quite the right inflection—Tobias hears none of the carefully controlled anger he sees in the skiddo’s posture—it’s clear that Avery is using Samir’s body language to make sure they get the right message across.

Samir turns a hard look on Nia and Tobias.

“But what you did was stupid and reckless, and you could’ve gotten yourselves killed. From what I hear, you almost did.”

Nia flinches. Tobias bites his lip to keep from making a defensive remark.

“And I tried to warn you as much as I could in the field,” Avery says, watching as Samir starts to pace in a tight path, back and forth. “And you just—didn’t listen. I don’t try to stop you for fun, you know? I’ve been in an active disaster zone before. I know how bad it can be. I knew the chances of anyone surviving in that dungeon were slim when the outside looked so volatile.”

With each word, Tobias feels his shoulders raise a little higher, as if to protect himself from the sharp scolding.

“This happened in Fort Asra, too. I told you the mines were too dangerous, and you insisted on going in without Calder anyways. And we almost died there as well! Eddy would’ve killed us if he got the chance. You know he would have.”

Tobias feels an extra heavy layer of shame settle on his shoulders for that one. Fort Asra’s recklessness was all Tobias—and for his own gain, too. At least Nia was trying to help other Pokemon during last night’s emergency.

“Nia,” Avery continues, as Samir swings their head to focus on the riolu. “I thought you had a cooler head than Tobias, but you let your emotions get the best of you last night.”

Nia winces. Tobias fights the urge to defend her, to tell Samir to back off while Nia’s in such a fragile emotional state.

Junie does it in his stead, fluttering forward to glare up at the skiddo. “Hey! I wasn’t there last night, but I know Nia was only trying to help! She’s an awesome Seeker and she saved my life by being so brave!”

“And when she saved your life, did she risk her own in the process?” Avery asks, low, matching the burn in Samir’s eyes.

Junie falters. “…W-Well...”

“What happens if she doesn’t make it out from the next reckless decision she makes? Or if Tobias doesn’t? Are you okay with their deaths on your conscience?”

At Tobias’ side, Nia takes a sharp breath.

Junie’s fluffed feathers fall back into place, and she suddenly looks twice as small. “…N-No.”

Samir shakes their head, agitated.

“This happened with my old teammate too,” Avery says. “No one ever listens to me when I’m just trying to keep them safe!”

Samir punctuates Avery’s voice with a stomp of their hoof, and Tobias knows they would be yelling if they could. Instead, they glare daggers at Nia and Tobias as Junie shuffles back into Nia’s lap.

“I can’t be on a team with Pokemon who jeopardize not only their own safety, but that of everyone around them,” Avery continues, quiet. “Not again. I’ve done that before, and it ended with me losing my voice and nearly my life.”

Tobias stares at Samir, aghast. That’s how they got hurt? Because their partner didn’t listen to them?

Nausea rolls in Tobias’ stomach. Beside him, Nia silently brings a paw up over her mouth.

“I know I’m the one on a trial run,” Avery continues, as Samir’s jaw tightens and they stubbornly hold Nia and Tobias’ gaze. “But if this happens even one more time, I’m gone. I’ll withdraw my application and return to the Pyrite Guild immediately. No debate.”

Silence crushes down on the room yet again.

Nia stares at Samir as fresh tears bud in her eyes. Tobias can’t blame her for being so stricken. Hearing that the injury that took the skiddo’s voice and nearly killed them came from their partner’s negligence—their recklessness—is…more than a little upsetting. Especially considering how poorly Tobias and Nia have viewed the skiddo’s last teammate.

Samir’s right. They haven’t listened to them. Tobias and Nia let their emotions rule over the skiddo’s wants twice now. And it doesn’t matter if Nia and Tobias’ motivations are somehow more selfless or more personal than Samir’s ex-partner’s, does it? It doesn’t matter when it hurts Samir all the same.

“You’re right,” Tobias says, quiet.

Samir stops, looking sharply at him. Tobias can read the What? on their face without Avery’s help.

“You’re right,” Tobias reiterates, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Arceus, he’s tired. “We should’ve listened to you. We shouldn’t have brushed you off.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nia adds, voice cracking. “I knew we shouldn’t go in there but I just couldn’t stop thinking about my own brother, a-and I couldn’t just leave the minun, and—"

“Breathe,” Tobias murmurs.

Nia cuts herself off, taking a shaky breath. Her eyes are wet. “We should’ve listened to you, Samir. I’m so sorry. And I’m really sorry we made you feel like your voice didn’t matter in that decision.”

Tobias nods, mumbling, “Sorry. We can promise to do better, but…I don’t know how much weight our word carries on its own.”

There’s a moment of silence, punctuated by Nia wiping at her eyes, while she and Tobias wait for Samir’s response.

Samir stares at them for a moment, as if expecting them to continue. When the skiddo realizes they’re done, their expression shifts to confusion.

Samir glances at Avery, and for the first time in this conversation the kirlia looks close to smiling.

“That’s it?” Avery asks for Samir.

Tobias frowns, exchanging a hesitant look with Nia. “I’m…not sure what else we can say, other than apologizing and trying to do better if you give us another chance.”

“Promising to do better,” Nia says, fervent.

Samir shakes their head, brow furrowed.

“No,” Avery says. “Aren’t you two angry?”

…What?

Nia tilts her head. “A-About what?”

Samir’s ears slide back, and their head ducks, embarrassed.

“I didn’t stick with my partners. I stand by what I said, but I thought you’d have your own piece to say about me abandoning the team on the field. And then coming back and scolding you when I’m not even an official member.”

Oh. Tobias looks again at Samir. Despite their threat to leave—and Tobias has no doubt that it’s genuine—they look a bit timid themself, as if waiting for Nia and Tobias to kick them off the team for…what? Insubordination?

Tobias snorts. “Why would we do that? You’re right.”

Samir looks up, surprised.

“And,” Nia adds, voice soft. “Even if you weren’t, this isn’t the kind of team where you get in trouble for, um…’disobeying’ Tobias. Or me. Tobias usually leads us in dungeons, but…”

Nia glances at Tobias, so he finishes, “We don’t really have a leader in the traditional sense. We’re a team. You’re afforded just as much say as either of us.”

Samir blinks at them, clearly baffled by the idea. Their mouth opens. Then closes. Their brow furrows again.

“You say that,” Avery says. “But so far that hasn’t proven true.”

Tobias winces. While Samir wasn’t technically on the team in Fort Asra, their point still stands.

“You say you’ll do better. How do I know you’ll follow through on that?” Avery asks.

Tobias swallows, exchanging an uncertain look with Nia.

“I don’t think there is a way to know, until we’re put into that kind of situation again.”

Nia looks at Samir. “Unless you have an idea?”

Samir thinks for a moment, before sighing and shaking their head.

“Then I guess,” Tobias says, slowly. “Your trial period in the mountains is our trial period too.”

“If you’re still willing to come with us,” Nia murmurs.

Samir doesn’t answer immediately. They look between Tobias and Nia for a few silent moments with dark, conflicted eyes. Tobias fights the urge to look away.

While a small part of Tobias—the part still reluctant to add anyone to their two-person team—finds the idea of Samir leaving a relief, this isn’t how he’d ever want that to happen. Not because they’re such bad teammates that the skiddo feels forced to leave for their own safety. And a much larger part of Tobias doesn’t want the skiddo to leave at all. They’re a good teammate.

“You were right,” Tobias says. “You knew what you were doing more than we did, and we should’ve listened to you. If you’re willing to stick around for one more try, we can show you that we can listen and be the teammates you deserve.”

They have to. Samir made an excellent point, earlier. They can’t keep gambling with each other’s lives and just hoping it’ll turn out all right. They need to be smarter.

“We can hold each other to that,” Nia says.

“And I can help too!” Junie says, putting up a wing. “If they try pulling any stupid, reckless stunts I can yell at ‘em and tell them they’re both being idiots!”

Samir huffs something like a laugh, some of the tension in their shoulders dropping as they look at Nia, Tobias and Junie with an almost annoyed expression.

Avery laughs. “Took the wind from your wings, didn’t they?”

Samir’s mouth twists, and they nod. Then they take a deep breath.

“I mean it,” Avery says, voice going soft again as they speak for Samir. “I won’t hesitate to leave if this happens again. I won’t have anyone’s blood on my conscience. Not yours, and not mine. Not when it can be avoided.”

Tobias thinks of Ezra and hears the sneasel’s screams, and thinks again of how easily that could’ve been him or Nia instead. “I know. We won’t fight you on that.”

“We deserve to lose you if we mess up like that again,” Nia says. “So we just…won’t mess up.”

Samir stares them down for a few more long moments, then sighs.

“Then for now, I’m with you,” Avery says.

Junie cheers. Nia breathes a sigh of relief, chin dropping to her chest. Tobias feels a bit of his own tension melt away.

Samir turns to Avery with a nod.

Avery smiles and curtsies. “You’re very welcome. Feel free to let me know if you need my help again.”

Samir nods, all righteous anger gone from their expression. Instead, Tobias spots some of the embarrassment he’d been expecting earlier.

“Really,” Avery says, gentler. They smile and tilt their head Nia and Tobias’ way. “There’s no shame in it. We all need help sometimes.”

Samir hesitates, but nods, though they can’t quite hold the kirlia’s gaze.

Avery turns next to Tobias and Nia. “Speaking of—how are you two holding up? I hear it was a particularly difficult night for Team Scarlet.”

Not as difficult as it was for Team Evergreen, Tobias thinks, cringing.

“Not great,” he hedges.

Nia shakes her head, taking a deep breath to straighten out the wobbly, upset line of her mouth. “U-Um. Have you heard anything about how Ezra is doing?”

Avery shakes their head. “No. I’m afraid my team only just woke up a short while ago. You could try visiting the medical floor? Maggie may be able to give you an update, even if Ezra isn’t her patient.”

That’s true. Even if Ezra is being treated by other medics, Maggie and Sage would still be supplying the herbal treatments with a disaster this catastrophic.

“You don’t think she’ll be too busy?” Nia asks.

Avery shrugs, the kind smile never leaving their face. “You won’t know until you try. If she is, you can always visit again later.”

“You want to go check?” Tobias asks Nia, half-hoping she’ll say no. He’s still dreading the possibility that Ezra passed away in the hours since his injury. Tobias will be relieved if they just find the sneasel alive, but even the best-case scenario won’t be easy to handle.

Nia looks scared, hugging Junie close to her chest and shrinking into her blanket. Tobias imagines she’s probably thinking much the same as him, but she still nods a yes.

Avery excuses themself back to their own room with a word of luck and directions to come straight to them if they need to talk or need more telepathic translating.

And then it’s time to go find Ezra.

Junie and Samir tag along without Tobias having to ask, and almost all too soon the four of them have made it up the stairs and to the medical wing.

The floor is noticeably busier than usual. Unfamiliar medics pass between the rooms lining the hall, talking to one another in low, urgent tones. Quiet voices can be heard from inside the patient rooms, and somewhere farther down the hall Tobias hears someone crying.

Nia shuffles closer to Tobias, Junie settled in the crook of her neck. Samir stands close to the riolu’s side.

Tobias eyes the medics that pass, gauging how easily they’ll be able to slip down the hall without getting in anyone’s way. He can’t remember the last time they had someone here who needed surgery, but he does know that patients with severe injuries will likely be housed together farther from the stairs.

One of the medics notices them hovering near the staircase before they can make their move. It’s a meowstic, and she stops to ask with a tired air what they need.

“Is Ezra the sneasel available for visitors?” Tobias asks, dread building in his chest. Don’t say he died. Don’t say he died. “His arm—"

“I know the sneasel,” the meowstic says, thankfully not wearing the sympathetic expression that would mean Ezra passed away due to complications. Instead, she looks so tired she almost comes across as bored, her yellow eyes lidded and her pointy ears held low. “Are you friends of his?”

Tobias hesitates. Nia nods, giving a quiet confirmation.

The meowstic looks them over, then nods. “He’s still unconscious, but you can visit briefly as long as you don’t cause any problems.” The meowstic turns and points towards the end of the hall. “He’s in the last room on the left with his team. There are other patients in there as well, so do not disturb them.”

They all nod, and Tobias quickly leads the group down the hall, staying pressed to the wall to stay out of the medics’ way. At the end of the hall, Tobias stops and peers into the room the meowstic had pointed them to.

There are a few patients resting inside, lying in nests situated against the walls. They all appear heavily injured, bandaged and out cold. There are one or two unfamiliar ‘mon visiting the wounded, sitting exhausted and morose at their bedsides. A medic is carefully unraveling the maroon-stained bandages on a doduo’s stump of a leg.

Tobias tears his eyes away from the grisly sight to focus on the familiar pair of ‘mon at the back of the room: a deerling and stufful. The two of them are silent, Jaz curled up in a ball and seemingly fast asleep with her striped tail laid over her face, and Andyn resting with her long legs tucked underneath her and her head hung low.

Just past them, Tobias catches a glimpse of dark fur: Ezra, motionless in a nest of his own.

Tobias glances at Nia, who has frozen up beside him with wide eyes and pinned ears. She looks terrified.

“We can always come back later,” Tobias murmurs.

For a moment, Nia doesn’t respond. Then, she swallows and shakes her head. “N-No. No, I want to see how he’s doing. If they need anything.”

Nia takes stilted steps into the room. Tobias exchanges a grim look with Samir before following.

Andyn’s ear flicks when Nia gets close. The deerling lifts her head to look at the newcomers, and for a moment a thousand different emotions flicker across her tired face. Anger, sorrow, relief and shame battle for dominance in her red-rimmed eyes.

“How is he?” Nia asks, quiet.

“He lost his arm,” Andyn responds, quieter.

Nia stops in her tracks, looking at Andyn as if she’d misheard. Tobias sighs. Maybe he should’ve warned her that that would likely be the case.

Tobias looks past Andyn to where Ezra is resting. The sneasel’s entire upper body is wrapped in bandages, and his left arm is simply...gone. The curve of his shoulder slopes smoothly into his ribcage.

At least the sneasel is alive.

Nia’s mouth opens, then closes. “Andyn, I-I…I’m so sorry.”

“You should be!” Andyn snaps. “If you hadn’t gone in there—"

Samir steps forward with a sharp stomp of their hoof. The dark look in the skiddo’s eye is enough to make Andyn’s mouth click shut.

“You can’t blame Nia for this,” Tobias says, more tired than angry at this point. “It was stupid of us to go in, but you’re the one who decided to follow. And you’re the one who made your team go with you.”

Andyn flinches, looking away. Looking at Ezra. Slowly, her head drops again.

“…I know.”

Another uncomfortable silence. Nia looks on the brink of tears again.

“He’s stable, right?” Tobias asks. He imagines a medic would be on constant standby otherwise.

Andyn lets out a shuddering breath, nodding. “He is. He’ll live. He’ll just be…”

Be missing an arm. Tobias can imagine it’s hard to take in. For anyone, but especially for a sneasel, seeing as their claws are one of their greatest weapons.

“There are plenty of Seekers who’ve lost limbs,” Tobias says, not sounding nearly as reassuring as he’d like. He recalls glimpsing one or two such ‘mon over the years and marveling at their scars when he was younger.

Andyn swallows hard. Then, she looks back at them, mouth shaking like she’s barely keeping herself from falling apart. “My parents stopped by.”

Tobias frowns.

“Th-They…” Andyn glances at Ezra. “They said that I should start thinking about how to let Ezra know he’s off the team. Since he’s…a liability now.”

Tobias’ jaw goes slack, stunned. The suggestion would be harsh enough, but to come from Andyn’s parents? About one of Andyn’s best friends? And less than a day after the whole traumatic incident happened?

“That’s horrible,” Nia says, looking sick.

“Yeah, those are officially horrible people,” Junie mutters.

“They’re not horrible!” Andyn says, voice high. A few tears slip down her cheeks. She tries to glare at Nia and Junie, but it’s ruined by the way her face crumples. “Th-They just…they…”

For a long moment, it’s silent again, save for the quiet sound of the medic working on another Pokemon elsewhere in the room. Andyn sniffles.

“There’s only so long you can make excuses for them,” Tobias says.

Andyn doesn’t answer that, looking back at Ezra’s unmoving form. The deerling reminds Tobias of a wilted flower, her ears and shoulders limp. Like she’s barely holding herself upright.

Nia shifts on her paws. “I-I don’t know if there’s anything we can do before we leave, but, um…don’t hesitate to ask if we can help, okay? We—"

“You’re leaving?” Andyn asks, head snapping up to look at Nia. Her voice is accusing, but her eyes are scared.

“Probably in the next couple days,” Tobias confirms.

Andyn shakes her head, tears welling up again. “Y-You can’t! I—Ezra needs you right now!”

Nia winces. “I-I know. I’d rather stay here, but we’re on a timeline a-and—“

“A timeline? What could be so important that you have to up and abandon us right now?!” Andyn asks, pushing herself to her hooves. She’s visibly shaking, enough so that Tobias worries her thin legs will snap like twigs beneath her.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tobias sees Jaz finally stir and lift her head.

Nia takes a step back, paws up. “W-We don’t want to! B-But—"

“Is it something to do with that monster you summoned in the dungeon?” Andyn asks, voice rising. “Giratina? How long have you been hiding that little secret from us?!”

“Shut up!” Tobias hisses, glancing over his shoulder. The few unfamiliar ‘mon who are visiting their loved ones are staring at the commotion, though they quickly look away.

“Anne?” Jaz murmurs, sitting up.

“I-It kind of has to do with him,” Nia admits. “But it’s really important, Andyn. L-Like, um…world-saving important. We wouldn’t go otherwise! But—"

“Of course it’s world-saving important!” Andyn says with a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Why wouldn’t you be gallivanting off to save the world?”

Nia blinks. “What?”

“After all, you’re perfect little Nia. The human with all the answers!”

“Andyn,” Tobias warns.

“W-What are you—?” Nia stammers, looking blindsided. “I don’t know—"

“You’ve always gotta be the hero, right? You just keep thinking you’re so good and sweet when your stupid idea is the reason Ezra got hurt at all!”

“Andyn!” Jaz snaps. The stufful moves between Andyn and everyone else, butting the deerling back a step.

Whatever look is on the stufful’s face, it’s enough for Andyn to finally back down, face twisted with emotion and tears streaming from her eyes. The grass type turns back to Ezra, folding her legs once more as she falls back to the ground.

“Just go,” Andyn says. “All of you. Go have your little human party with Giratina in the mountains. I don’t care anymore.”

“Andyn,” Nia whimpers, barely loud enough for Tobias to hear. “I don’t…”

Tobias intercepts his partner’s reaching paw, giving her heartbroken expression a silent shake of his head. Samir takes over from there and gently herds Nia back towards the hall while Junie murmurs soothing words.

Tobias glares at Andyn’s back. “Nia visited today hoping to help. Your parents visited to tell you to abandon your partner. Think harder about which ‘mon you really want to push away.”

Andyn stiffens, but doesn’t answer. Tobias turns on his heel to follow Nia and the others out into the hall.

Nia is choking back hiccupping sobs. Junie is preening the collar of fur around the riolu’s neck in a soothing gesture. Samir is pressed against Nia’s side, holding her up, but the skiddo looks at Tobias with dark, angry eyes. Tobias can only imagine how the skiddo feels about the deerling right now, having been in Ezra’s position themself.

“Tobias! Nia!”

Tobias turns, surprised to find Jaz hurrying after them on her short, stubby legs. The stufful’s face is apologetic, and she looks deeply pained when she catches sight of Nia trying to pull herself together.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Jaz says.

“Not your fault,” Junie grumbles. “You aren’t the one with a stick up your—"

“All the same,” Jaz says, cutting her off. “I’m sorry. Andyn isn’t taking this well, but that was way out of line.”

“Why are you always the one apologizing for her?” Tobias asks, crossing his arms.

Jaz hesitates. “I…shouldn’t be. I know. But I just know how good of a ‘mon she can be.”

“Well that’s not a very good reason,” Junie grumbles. “Anyone can be nice one day of the year. That doesn’t matter much if they still suck every other day.”

Jaz pauses, then sighs. “…I suppose you’re right about that. Andyn’s been going through a lot lately, but that doesn’t excuse her lashing out.”

“Why do you and Ezra even follow her?” Tobias asks. “Seems like you’d be better off on your own team.”

For a long moment, the stufful doesn’t answer. Their whole group has to shift to the side of the hall to let a couple of medics through.

“That would never work,” Jaz finally says. “We need Andyn. She’s the heart of our team.”

Tobias frowns. “The heart?”

Jaz smiles up at him, soft and sad. “Ezra and I don’t have the drive or the confidence to be Seekers on our own. Andyn is the one who makes us feel strong. She’s the one who makes us feel like we can do anything. When she’s focused, when she’s in a good place, it’s like…I can see the kind of leader she could be one day. And it’s amazing. And that makes me want to be amazing too.”

Tobias can hear the sincerity in the stufful’s voice, and to some extent he understands what she means, but…

“But…” Jaz says, quiet. She casts a somber look back into the room. “There are certain things you can’t come back from. And I don’t know if we’ll be able to come back from this one.”

“You’re disbanding your team?” Junie asks.

Jaz shakes her head. “Not yet. But we can’t keep going like this, with Andyn so focused on perfection that she puts us in danger. I want to wait and see what Ezra thinks first. If he even wants to be a Seeker anymore after all this.”

Tobias feels a twist in his stomach thinking about what the sneasel will have to face when he wakes up. The ice type has always been absurdly bright and friendly, but Tobias can’t imagine even Ezra will be able to just shrug off an injury this life-changing.

Tobias glances at Nia and Samir, fresh guilt creeping into his lungs. This very easily could’ve been their team on the verge of disbanding. Nia or Samir in that nest and missing an entire limb.

Tobias can’t let them endanger themselves so recklessly ever again.

“I’m so sorry we have to leave,” Nia sniffs. Her face is still a damp, teary mess, and her voice is warbly. “I really wish we could stay, but this just…isn’t something that can wait.”

Jaz gives the riolu a tired smile. “That’s not hard to believe after seeing Giratina himself in that dungeon. But you can tell us all about it later. I’d better go check on Andyn, all right? Take it easy and be safe.”

They nod and say their goodbyes as the stufful returns to her team. Then, they’re left in the hallway, unsure where to go next.

For a moment, Tobias desperately wants to find Maggie and soak up the meganium’s soothing presence. They could all use that, honestly. But she’s likely still busy with Sage, mixing up herbs for all the injured. Seeing how busy everyone is up here, they probably shouldn’t disturb her.

Nia’s stomach growls, loud, breaking Tobias from his thoughts. The riolu’s muzzle wrinkles, and Tobias can imagine that she doesn’t feel like eating even if her body is hungry. But it’s important to stay fed.

“C’mon. Let’s eat some of those berries we brought back earlier.”

No one argues, and they make it back to Team Scarlet’s quarters without another word between them. Tobias immediately digs through the pile of berries until he finds a persim berry, and shoves it into Nia’s paws.

Nia doesn’t argue with the unsaid command, and starts nibbling at the berry’s pink skin through lingering sniffles. Tobias digs out a rawst berry for himself and gets to work cooking it in the bowl of his hands with a small jet of fire. The first bite of its warm, dimpled skin is a welcome comfort, the juices bitter and sharp on his tongue.

Junie and Samir pick through the berry pile as well, the rookidee trying to guess what the skiddo’s favorite berry is while Samir half-heartedly entertains her guesses with a dry shake of their head. Junie hams up her despair after each wrong guess.

A whimper from Nia’s direction has all of them turning her way. Tobias’ heart sinks to find fresh tears slipping down her face as she clearly tries and fails to hold them back, berry held tight enough in her paws that Tobias fears it’ll get crushed to a pulp.

“Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?” Junie asks, abandoning her game to flutter onto Nia’s leg. “I mean…a lot is wrong, but uh—”

“What’s wrong specifically?” Tobias clarifies, abandoning his own food to sit down in front of the riolu.

Like a dam bursting, Nia starts crying in earnest, dropping her berry to cover her face. Heart-wrenching sobs rip from her chest and make her shoulders jump.

Samir had frozen nearby at the first cry, but they jolt and quickly settle against Nia’s side, as if to offer moral support with their presence despite the obvious panic on their face.

For a second, Tobias panics too. This isn’t the same quiet, constant grief they’ve all been feeling today. This feels like a bubble bursting—like something in particular is making her so upset she simply can’t process it. And knowing Nia, she needs some way to work it out of her system.

So, swallowing his own discomfort, Tobias asks, “Hey, uh. Is this more of a hug problem or a talk problem?”

Nia’s crying slows just long enough for her to wail, “Both!”

“Well, you heard the girl,” Junie chuckles, hopping closer to nuzzle Nia’s waist.

Tobias hesitates for only a moment before scooching closer. Then, he gently tugs the riolu’s paws away from her eyes and guides her into a hug. Nia latches onto the contact immediately, squeezing him tight enough in return that it’s almost painful.

Tobias tries to remember what Maggie did in the past when he was this upset. When he was desperately missing his family and feeling the fresh pain of their absence all over again. After a moment, he tentatively rests a hand on Nia’s back, then skims it up and down her spine in what he hopes is a soothing gesture.

As Nia cries, Tobias feels the grief and guilt he’d been shoving into the back of his mind all day surface anew. She doesn’t deserve to feel like this. None of them do.

This has to be the worst part of being a Seeker.

Tobias squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to send his own sorrow from last night’s disaster along with it. It feels…nice, in a way. To just let himself be sad. To be upset.

Eventually, though, Nia’s cries soften and fade. She pulls back from the hug with clear reluctance, wiping at the wet fur on her cheeks. The red of her eyes pops even brighter than usual.

“Sorry,” Nia says, her voice a wreck. “I’m fine. Just…been a long night. Day. It’s not fair for me to act like mine’s been any worse than yours.”

Tobias snorts. “Just because we aren’t crying doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to cry.”

“Yeah! And even if we’re all upset, maybe you’re the most upset right now,” Junie says, peering up at Nia. “That’s okay. Sometimes people need more help at different times, even if everyone is dealing with the same crappy situation. We’ll take turns.”

Nia huffs a watery laugh. Her expression is warm as she runs a paw over the rookidee’s back, earning a pleased chirp.

Still, something on Nia’s face gives Tobias pause.

“You’ve got something else on your mind,” Tobias guesses, ignoring Nia’s surprised look. “Something other than the general awfulness we’re all dealing with.”

Nia blinks. “O-Oh. I mean…kind of? But it isn’t important."

“What?! It’s important if it’s upsetting you!” Junie says, whacking Nia with a wing. “Spill!”

Nia smiles, like the sun peeking through the clouds. Just as quickly, the expression falls away. For a few quiet moments, Tobias thinks she isn’t going to talk at all.

Then, Nia whispers, “I was just thinking that maybe Andyn was right.”

Tobias frowns. Junie makes a squawk of outrage. Even Samir pulls away from Nia to give the riolu a baffled look.

“I know it was Andyn’s choice to follow us into the dungeon,” Nia explains. “A-And Ezra’s choice to follow her. But I wanted to save that minun. I wanted to save her so badly that I didn’t listen to Samir, a-and I pulled Tobias in with me too. And if I hadn’t done that then Ezra never would’ve gotten hurt and—"

“Whoa, slow down,” Junie says.

If anything, Nia talks faster. She’s blinking back a fresh wave of tears. “I-I just feel so guilty for everything, a-and maybe Andyn’s right and I just like playing the hero? And that’s even worse because I thought I was just being a good person but is it actually good if you have to try to be good a-and—"

“Okay, hang on,” Tobias says, hands out. Alarm bubbles in his gut.

“A-And now I feel like I won’t know what to do in the future because if I can’t trust my own moral compass to lead me to the right decisions, what do I trust?!” Nia asks. “I was so sure I was doing the right thing but was I just doing it to make myself feel better? A-And even if I wasn’t, I know I need to think things through better but does that mean I have to make myself not care because I don’t think I even know how to do that a-and—"

Tobias grabs either side of Nia’s face, stopping her rambling and catching her off-guard. She stares at Tobias with glossy eyes, panting as she catches her breath.

“Breathe, Nia,” Tobias murmurs.

He breathes deep, waiting for her to mimic him the best she can before letting it out. Another breath. Another exhale. Again.

Slowly, the wild light dims in Nia’s eyes. But she still looks so…uncertain. Like she’s doubting everything she is and everything she stands for. It hurts to see, when Tobias often looks to her as his own moral compass.

“It wasn’t smart of us to go into that dungeon,” Tobias says, releasing her. “It was reckless. You shouldn’t have done it, I shouldn’t have let it happen, and Andyn definitely shouldn’t have followed us. But that doesn’t mean you were wrong to care.”

Nia watches him with lost, pleading eyes. Begging him to convince her.

“If circumstances had been different, maybe the minun would’ve been alive when we found her. But even here and now, when she isn’t? When we gained nothing? I know that if we hadn’t gone into that dungeon to look for survivors, it would’ve haunted you. You’d be sitting here wondering if you could’ve saved that minun if you’d only tried. I know you would be, because I would be thinking the same thing. There was no right answer in that situation.”

Tobias glances at Samir, half-expecting a protest from the skiddo. They’re watching Tobias with a furrowed brow, but they don’t interrupt.

Tobias swallows. “A-At least this way, the plusle will know for sure what happened to her sister. And we only know that because we tried. We cared. So I don’t think it’s bad, to try to do what’s right, even if that means you’re wrong sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Junie says, voice soft. “Remember? You followed your gut and came to save me in Ghatha. If you never tried to do good, even when your brain told you it would be smarter and easier not to, then I would be dead right now.”

“B-But…” Nia looks at Samir. “We agreed we were too reckless last night.”

“We were,” Tobias says. “But I think it’s just a matter of…balance. A balance that we need to get better at finding. Between trying to do what’s right, and trying to keep ourselves and others safe.”

“But how do we know where that balance is when my heart says it’s always worth the risk to try?” Nia whispers. “I-I know it’s stupid to be so emotional over this, but—"

“It’s not stupid,” Tobias says, harsher than he means to. Everyone looks at him, and his face heats. “It’s not stupid to care.”

Nia doesn’t respond, and Tobias holds back a frustrated growl. She doesn’t get it. It’s not only that her emotional, caring nature isn’t stupid. It’s that it’s important.

“Look,” Tobias sighs. “You know how earlier, Jaz said that Andyn was so amazing that it made her and Ezra want to be amazing too?”

Nia nods with a small, confused noise of agreement.

“I…kind of understood what she was saying. Because you’re that for me too, Nia. You’re good. You care. You always try to do the right thing. And you make me want to do the right thing and care, too. If I’m in a situation and I don’t know what to do, then…I look to you.”

And that’s something Tobias treasures and admires in his partner. Nia without her ridiculous kindness and her silly, soft heart simply wouldn’t be Nia. And Tobias would never want that.

There’s a moment of heavy silence where Tobias wants to melt into the floor. But Nia is staring at him with something like hope, fresh tears glittering in her eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” Tobias admits. “And if we can just learn to be a bit more cautious about how we follow that drive to do good, I don’t see any reason for us to stop trying, or to stop caring. Right?”

Nia bubbles with a relieved laugh, but there’s a bend to her brow that belies the worry beneath the joy. “I just…I don’t know if you should look to me as your guide for something that important. I try to be a good person, but I’m nothing special.”

Tobias scoffs. He’d argue his partner is very special. And even if he is biased, that bias has to come from something real, right? It’s not based on nothing. It comes from how Nia has always been there for him, even when he didn’t deserve it. How she always tries to do what’s right, even when it’s hard. How she always tries to be kind and helpful to everyone they meet.

A surge of affection swamps Tobias like a wave. If Tobias could just show her that feeling, how much she inspires him, how merely thinking about his partner fills him with comfort and courage and makes him want to be better, then—

Oh.

Oh, he could do that, couldn’t he? Tobias is one of the few Pokemon in the world who actually can show that to his partner.

Fear threatens to smother the warm trust in Tobias’ chest, but he shoves it away before it can take hold. Because this would show Nia how much she means to him, simply because of who she is. And maybe then she’d understand why he looks to her like a guiding star.

“Read my aura,” Tobias says.

Nia and Junie blink at him, shocked. Even Samir seems to gauge the importance of the request after a glance at Nia and Junie’s reactions.

Nia’s mouth flaps. “Tobias, I—are you sure? What—why?”

Tobias swallows. His heart is beating hard against his ribs. He shrugs. “It would show you. That you…inspire me and stuff. Just from being you. You don’t have to do it, but—"

“No!” Nia says, paws out. “I would love to, but. Um.”

They fall into an awkward silence again. Nia watches him with wide, wide red eyes.

Tobias can’t blame her. He remembers how vehement he was in the early days of their partnership about her keeping her aura to herself. Tobias always said it was about it being creepy, a breach of privacy, but if he actually lets himself think about it, Tobias thinks it’s more about the vulnerability of it all. Of Nia seeing Tobias as he actually is instead of the Pokemon he tries to be nowadays.

Tobias doesn’t even know who he really is. He doesn’t know if him trying to be good like Nia actually makes any kind of impact on who he is at his core. The thought scares him.

But…if he can trust anyone with himself, with his very soul, he knows it’s Nia. Even if he’s drowning in embarrassment and fear and some kind of deep shame simply for being him, for being woefully inadequate as a son and partner and Seeker, he knows that Nia will still see the best in whatever he has to offer.

And he wants Nia to see the best in herself, too. Even if that’s through him.

So Tobias takes a breath—two—and holds out a shaky hand, palm up.

After a long moment of hesitation, Nia reaches back.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #skiddo #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

136 notes · View notes

late-to-the-party-81 · 6 months ago

Text

If everything changes, will it stay the same?

AN: Here’s a little thing for @stuckygeekevents bingo, Square L3 - Howling Commandos. It’s a bit angsty, but I hope you enjoy it.

Beta'd by @zenaidamacrouras1

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and mood board by me.

Join my tag list here

Master list

Summary: After Steve’s one-man assault at Azzano, Bucky takes time during the walk back to allied territory to try and make sense of, well, everything.

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

WC: 2k

CW: Trauma, Bucky Barnes has PTSD, Confused Bucky, Worried Bucky, The Howling Commandos are good bros, The Howling Commandos know what’s up, slightly insecure Steve, bittersweet ending (cos we know what happens next), smoking.

All he had to do was put one foot in front of the other. Easy. Something he’d been able to do since he was 11 months old apparently, but, at this moment, it felt so goddamn hard! However, there was no way on God’s green earth that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was going to ask for help. He’d walked into this war on his own two feet and he’d walk out of it too, torture or no torture.

Sergeant James Barnes. 32557038.

Rifle in hand, he scanned the group of men a few feet ahead of him, easily picking out the newly gigantic form that was Steve. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it. What had those military pricks actually done to him?

What had been done to him?

A hand clapped down on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts, and Bucky turned to look up into the grinning face of Dum-Dum. There’s nothing like serving in the same regiment with someone else to speed up the friend-making process. Especially when you end up as POW’s together.

32557038.

“So that’s little Stevie, huh? You told me that you hadn’t had any head injuries prior to joining up.” Dum-Dum’s tone was light and teasing and Bucky couldn’t help but flush.

“Ah, fuck off. He was when I left. Not my fault some wacko military scientist pumped him full of super-steroids and turned him into Charles-fucking-Atlas.”

Dum-Dum snorted. “Guess it’s gonna take you some getting used to, though?”

Bucky shrugged, trying to give off an air of nonchalance. “Won’t make any difference to me. As long as what they did didn’t give him any brain damage, he’ll still be the same old Stevie underneath.”

Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own.

“Hate to break it to you, sport, but the way he came charging into that hell-hole? Well doesn’t seem like a man in full charge of his faculties to me.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to snort. “That? That wasn’t nothin’ new. That was classic Rogers - running in where angel’s fear to tread. The only difference now is that he’s apparently strong enough to not get his ass kicked from here to Sunday.”

“Well,” Dum-Dum conceded, “it must be a weight off your mind, an’ all. Gonna go check on some of the others, Barnes. Don’t push yourself too hard. Though suppose you do, little Stevie could always carry you.” His expression split into a shit-eating grin at the jibe and he ducked away before Bucky could gather himself to punch the guy in the arm.

Bucky’s lips twisted up wryly and he shook his head. Fuckin’ Duggan. Guy was a shit-stirrer of the highest magnitude, which coming from him was saying something. He had a point though, about not pushing himself too hard. To be honest, he wasn’t actually sure how he was still walking, given everything. To top it off, his brain still felt as though it had been chopped up and poured back into his head.

32557038.

He tried to remember what had been being done to him, but it was a hazy blur of sleep deprivation and pain. He thought there had been needles. And a creepy little man with a round face and round glasses talking about hopefully ‘this one’ would survive the procedure.

Sergeant James Barnes.

He plodded on, keeping an eye on Steve as he walked ahead, but also trying to keep that gaze above the waist. The guy was wearing tights, for Christ’s sake and now he actually had an ass on him. It hadn’t been as bad when Steve had still had a pair of fatigues on over the top, but he’d loaned those out to one of the other survivors who’d had the misfortune to fall in a puddle. The pair of them definitely needed to have a talk, as soon as they got a semblance of privacy, but how Bucky was supposed to concentrate when all of that was gonna be standing in front of him, he had no idea.

“Sarge!”

Bucky whipped his head round at the sound of the familiar voice and tried not to groan. Morita jogged up to him, a grin on his bruised and dirtied face. The guy was great, even if he was sometimes a little too much.

“What is it, Morita?”

“That guy,” he jerked his head in Steve’s direction, “is really your… umm… friend?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said with a small smile. “He’s my friend. Grew up like brothers, I suppose you could say. Why?”

“Because he’s Captain-freaking-America.” Morita’s voice had dropped into a theatrical hiss. Bucky had often thought the guy could easily get a job on stage, once they all got out of here, of course. “And,” he continued, a small wheedling tone creeping in, “I wondered if you could ask him to autograph something for me to send home. My girl would be over the moon if I could tell her I knew him.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Jim. I don’t know if he does stuff like that. It’s not like we’ve had the opportunity to really talk yet, what with escaping and all.”

Not without you!

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, slightly chagrined. “Well, if you get the chance to ask. But no rush, or anything. How’re you holding up, anyway?”

“Alright, I suppose. A little achy and a lot tired, but I’m alive, so that’s the main thing, right?”

Morita reached out and squeezed Bucky’s forearm. “That it is, Sarge.”

Sergeant James Barnes.

They walked together for some time in companionable silence, and were eventually joined by Jones, who was carrying three cigarettes he’d managed to obtain from somewhere, and passed them both one each. Bucky shouldered his rifle and lit his, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as the nicotine hit him. “Damn that’s good. Thanks, Gabe.”

“No problem, Barnes. I think we all deserved one. Probably deserve a boat load if truth be told.”

“Damn straight, “ Morita chimed in, before blowing a plume of smoke into the air.

“You spoken to your buddy yet?” Gabe enquired.

“Umm, not really. I’m still a bit in shock, to be honest. Asked him for some space, and as loads of others were, are, buzzing round him like flies round shit, it wasn’t too hard to get away for a bit.”

Morita elbowed him. “He keeps looking over his shoulder at you, Sarge. Think he’s making sure you haven’t disappeared. Looking a bit like a lost puppy when he’s doin’ it too. I think you should go and walk by him for a bit.” Bucky thought Morita should just shut up…

“Yeah, Barnes. He did become a one-man army to save you. Least you could do is say thanks.” Gabe’s bright grin split his face as decided to join in with the ganging up. Fucker.

“It wasn’t just to save me guys. It was to save all of us. That’s Stevie through and through - always championing the underdog and doing what’s right, regardless of the rules. He hates bullies.”

“If you gotta tell yourself that, then you do so, but we all know it was ‘cause you was in danger that put a rocket up his ass. So with all due respect, Sergeant Barnes, go talk to your boy because he’s quickly becoming the most pathetic white man I’ve ever seen. And considering I shared a cell with Dernier, that’s saying somethin’.

Bucky took one last drag on his cigarette. “You two should go fuck yourselves, you know that?” He flicked the butt into the bushes as his two comrades just grinned at him. Then, with an eye roll, he stalked forward, catching up to where Steve was leading the rag-tag group of men back to the allied encampment.

Steve’s smile as he realised it was Bucky coming towards him was so warm, Bucky felt as though another sun had risen into the sky. He barely noticed the others walking with them melting back into the main group of men.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve said shyly.

“Hey, yourself.” Bucky felt just as awkward as Steve looked. During the rescue itself, Bucky had thought that what he’d been seeing was a drug induced fever-dream, but in the cold light of day, with his adrenaline levels returning to normal he could really take in all of the changes that had been wrought upon Steve.

I thought you were smaller.

However, he wasn’t looking for those changes. No, he was trying to see beyond them to find the tell-tale signs of his Stevie.

There was that familiar crooked nose, no weird science could apparently fix that. And Steve’s cow-lick - that lock of straw blonde hair that just wouldn’t stay in place, no matter how much of Bucky’s pomade Steve had stolen. However, the most important thing was Steve’s eyes. Deep blue with flecks of green, a colour he wanted to drown. His hand itched to take hold of Steve’s and interlace their fingers, but they couldn’t. Not now. As much as some of the others may suspect and tease him, there were some things that were definitely private. And that was assuming that Steve still wanted to hold his hand.

“You doing okay? You’re not too tired are you?” There was concern in Steve’s voice and it was enough to make Bucky laugh through the awkwardness of the situation.

“That used to be my line,” he joked. “But somehow, you’re now the motherhen. All two hun’red and sommin’ pounds of you. You better not get into any fights now, ‘cause there’s no way I’m gonna be able to carry your fat ass home.”

Steve went beet red - a look that was also familiar. “You think my ass is fat?” he whispered, aghast.

Bucky smirked. “ Well it sure ain’t skinny anymore, that’s for sure.” He received a glare and a set of pursed lips in response. “But, yeah. I’m okay. All the better for seeing you, pal, even if you won’t fit under my arm any more and you could probably bench press me.”

They walked next to each other, silence falling between them and Bucky was at a loss of what else to say. What were you supposed to say when the person who’s not only the centre of your world but who’s also supposed to be safely across on the other side of it, is actually standing by your side, having rescued you with his dramatically altered body. Nothing inside any of the fantastic stories Bucky had read in his youth had prepared him for such a mind-bending situation. “How are you doing?” was the only thing he could say.

“Buck…” Steve tried to speak, but his voice almost immediately cracked and he had to suck in a few deep breaths. “I was so scared,” he continued in a hushed tone. “So scared that you wouldn’t be there, or that you’d be…” He tailed off. He didn’t need to say it. Bucky was certain if Steve had been even fifteen minutes later there wouldn’t have been anything of him to save. He couldn’t comfort Steve the way he wanted, couldn’t hold him and pull Steve’s head into his own neck and let the pair of them cry the way they wanted, but he could lean a little bit to the side and let the back of his hand brush against the back of Steve’s.

For a heartbeat their pinky fingers hooked together before falling away from each other again. However, that gesture was enough to both reassure Bucky and get his heart racing, just a little, before a sense of foreboding settled upon him again

“Everything’s changed, Steve,” Bucky mumbled, downcast. “And think you’re the least of those changes. I didn’t know it was going to be like this. I suppose everyone thinks they know, but nothing can prepare you. Not really. It’s brutal, in a way you can’t imagine, Stevie.”

32557038.

Bucky bit back a sob, and opened his eyes wide, willing the wetness gathering there to dry out. He wasn’t going to fall apart, especially not when he had Steve by his side, something he’d resigned himself to never having again.

The clap on his shoulder from Steve was nothing like the one from Duggan earlier. He could feel the warmth of Steve’s hand through his ragged top, his lean, artist fingers gripping him with surety.

“It’ll be alright, Buck. I got you out, and I’m right here with you. Til the end of the line.”

And as they continued to walk toward safety, Bucky just had to believe that was true.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds,

@crayongirl-linz, @mightstill, @nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318,

@scram1326, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989,

@kombatfather1796

#stucky fanfiction #stucky fic #ww2 stucky #bucky barnes angst

60 notes · View notes

somuchwatersoclosetohome · 3 months ago

Text

ok so in another departure from scheduled programming, i'm going to do my big sappy post first before recounting yesterday's 2 final london shows!! and also have a soundtrack to this post bc as i said i was hURT by thinking about plodding on and now you all have to hurt with me

also HAHA you thought my last posts were long posts well you thought WRONG

✨ firstly, thank you 😊 i know i arrived out of nowhere on this fandom scene like, what... 6 weeks ago?! despite having been a fan of R&S for ages, i've only ever appreciated on my own and not been in 'fandom'... so although i have way fewer stories of interactions and i've never been to the BFI 😭, i've never been made to feel like a lesser fan or unworthy somehow, and it's not felt like anything is gatekept. it's only been finding lovely people who appreciate other lovely people making lovely things and everyone has been immediately so open and welcoming 🤗

🚪 when we were stood outside the number 9 door last night just feeling the weight of the last few months now being over, it really was like finding your people 🌟

🙏 i'm scared i'll miss people but i'll try - @vagueeyes for spending the best part of 24h with me and traipsing around covent garden before the show where we discussed CAT bag discourse at length, @donotbelasagne for being a viewing partner technically twice now, @silverview for bringing us all together as our stage door lucky charm, @spcvarney and @varneysfangs for letting me live your previous r experiences vicariously and for being generally lovely , @misskite for sharing your unfathomable amount of R&S content, and @wintersoulwitch for inspiring me to write anything on tumblr at all without immediately dismissing it in my head as garbage. i hope i made up for the Great Twickets War of 2025 through my official ticket dealership 🙇‍♀️

but also EVERYONE that has ever interacted with any of my posts and made me feel less insane and more understood... this goes for you all as well ❤️

🌸 i actually wrote R&S an enormously soppy letter earlier in the run which i gave to them on my second viewing (and yep you guessed it, it was steve that took my gift bag)... who knows if they actually read it, but in any case it was very cathartic to write!!

i included a quote from a raymond carver short story in it (i know at least steve knows carver, because he mentions So Much Water So Close To Home (oh wow, where else have i heard that.....) in the commentary for la couchette). i included it only because i thought it captured the experience of stage/fright, and so much else of what they've created, much better than i could - the suspension of everyone in the worlds that they've created, and especially for stage/fright, the magic of live theatre...

I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone's heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark. - What We Talk about When We Talk about Love

(it also gave me a thrill that about five lines before this, there's a line of dialogue in the story that is word for word - "I'll put out some cheese and crackers". 🤯)

💖 all to say that everything that we love or appreciate is often the passion project of a single person or couple of people. i am genuinely feeling a bit sad today but there is the tour to look forward to even though it feels AGES away..., but i've got a play/episode/screenplay that's sat in my writer's bottom drawer for nearly 10 years that maybe i can use the next 5 months to do something with. there's also a ton more posts i want to make about in9 and stage/fright and the experience of live theatre and fandom in general so hopefully they'll get written at some point too!! so thank you to R&S for getting me to the point of picking up a pen again 💜

9️⃣ what an era!! i feel so happy and lucky and privileged to have been a part of it 💕

#stage/fright #inside no 9 #in9 #inside number 9 #inside no. 9 #reece shearsmith #the Expression of Emotions #soppiness.com #steve pemberton #stage fright

29 notes · View notes

donotbelasagne · 5 months ago

Text

IN9 episodes tournament, round 1 stats

I have created a spreadsheet based on the wonderful polls by @insideno9bracket and now I am here to give you some solid facts (it's about 1000 words long, I sincerely apologise).

First off, I looked at the general data.

The mean amount of votes per poll was a nice round 90 (to the nearest whole number), with a SD of 11.6 (quite a lot).

The mode was 83, and the median 89.5 (meaning there are a few outliers at the top).

The mean amount of notes per poll was 17 (to the nearest whole number), with 10 of were likes and 7 were reblogs (the number of comments proved to be almost negligible, with a mean of 0.25 comments per poll).

Firstly, I think this shows the general trend on Tumblr of moving away from reblogs and towards likes (a trend that other Tumblr users have made way more interesting posts about, so I won't go into detail about this here). Due to the nature of these polls, I really enjoy reading people's reblog-tags, so I urge you to reblog more next round so I have a good time lol.

Secondly, it shows that only 19% of the people who voted also interacted with the post in another way (not taking into consideration those who liked AND reblogged). Again, I feel like we can do better than this next round. I want to know why you choose the episode you choose! Give me those unhinged and insanely biased tags, reblog with propaganda of why people should vote for a specific episode! It’s what these polls are all about!

Next up, let's take a look at the most popular polls and episodes.

The top 3 most voted for polls were:

Nana's Party vs Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room (125 votes)

Zanzibar vs Paraskevidekatriaphobia (108 votes)

Sardines vs How Do You Plead (105 votes)

The top 3 most voted for episodes were:

Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room (115 votes)

Plodding On (82 votes)

The Stake Out & Cold Comfort (81 votes)

Now, the main take-away from this is how insanely popular BCDR is. It got more votes by itself, than all other polls did in total. Another take-away is the popularity of Sardines and How Do You Plead (we’ll seem them again in the “closest calls” part of this post). People really fought for both those episodes. My last take-away for now, is that we are all insanely predictable and I love that for us lol. Of course Plodding On and The Stake Out are in the top 3, of course they are.

If we look at the most voted for polls/episodes, we of course also need to look at the least voted for (or as I’d like to call it; the bit of this post that would get Reece annoyed).

The top 3 least voted for polls were:

Private View vs Boo To A Goose (55 votes)

And The Winner Is vs Thinking Out Loud (75 votes)

Hurry Up And Wait vs A Quiet Night In (80 votes)

The top 3 least voted for episodes were:

Hurry Up and Wait & The Referee’s A W***er (8 votes)

A Random Act Of Kindness, Nana’s Party & Love Is A Stranger (10 votes)

Kid/Nap (14 votes)

A couple of points on this, Private View vs Boo To a Goose was the first poll to happen, which I believe is the main reason this poll received so few votes. Secondly, some of the episodes in this top 3 were just unlucky with which episode they were up against and aren’t bad episodes per se (to be fair, are there any actual bad episodes? I think not. Just popular and less popular ones). For example, The Referee’s a W***er was up against Cold Comfort (which got 91% of the votes), and Nana’s Party was up against BCDR (which got 92% of the votes).

This brings me nicely to the point of win margins.

Top 3 biggest win margins:

Bernie Clifton’s Dressing Room (92%) vs Nana’s Party (8%)

Cold Comfort (91%) vs The Referee’s A W***er (9%)

A Quiet Night In (90%) vs Hurry Up And Wait (10%)

Top 3 smallest win margins

Thinking Out Loud (52%) vs And The Winner Is (48%)

The Trial of Elizabeth Gadge (58.4%) vs The Party’s Over (41.6%)

12 Days Of Christine (59%) vs To Have And To Hold (41%) As well as: Sardines (59%) vs How Do You Plead (41%)

The biggest win margins are all quite straightforward; iconic episodes vs average episodes. Not much to say about that. The smallest win margins are either between two average episodes, or two iconic episodes (/documentaries).

I wonder if perhaps there could be a “golden ticket” poll at some point, to get one of these just-didn’t-win episodes back into the competition (@insideno9bracket)?

Lastly, I looked at the most and least interacted with polls.

Top 3 most interacted with polls:

Death Be Not Proud vs The Stake Out (28 notes)

Nana’s Party vs Bernie Clifton’s Dressing Room (25 notes)

Tempting Fate vs Wise Owl & The Last Weekend vs Mulberry Close (24 notes)

Makes a lot of sense, people are very passionate about these episodes.

Top 3 least interacted with polls:

And The Winner is vs Thinking Out Loud (9 notes)

Mother’s Ruin vs Seance Time (10 notes)

Hurry Up and Wait vs A Quiet Night In (11 notes)

It’s either because people weren’t too fussed about these 3 polls (seems unlikely, but alright), or everyone was busy when these polls came out lol. If anyone has a better explanation, I’d love to hear it.

Some extra thoughts:

A lot of this was more or less as I expected, though I thought The Trolley Problem would feature more heavily at the top (it ranks 10th in amount of votes).

I cannot wait for round 2 and seeing if the current trends continue, or if new pairings will change it all up!

Please let me know if there are any other stats you’d like to see! I’ve just gone with everything I could think of, but I’m always open to doing more pointless stats.

Thank you everyone for voting and thank you @Insideno9brackets for doing this. I’m having a great time.

#inside no 9 #in9 #inside no 9 bracket #poll stats #i fucking loved doing this i cant wait for round 2

30 notes · View notes

number1crush · 2 months ago

Text

The Problem with the MCU

I want to start off by saying that I adore long form storytelling. Super long book series, TV shows that don't just plod along for the money but because they have a story to tell, interconnected narratives, that's my jam.

So what Disney has done with Star Wars and the MCU is the kind of stuff that I love, actually. I love building a universe and exploring all of the big and little stories that take place there and how they all relate to each other across planets, across time.

However...

Sometimes to make those stories work you have to pretend that some of them simply don't exist. Therein lies the problem with the MCU. (Spoilers for Daredevil Born Again ahead.)

In the season finale of DDBA season 1, there's a city-wide blackout in New York City. Chaos erupts. Looting, fires, the whole shebang. The corrupt NYPD uses this chaos to round up vigilantes, but only the ones we've seen on this show.

If you know anything about the MCU, or Marvel in general, you know that New York City is practically crawling with superheroes. (This should surprise no one, as Marvel's headquarters are in Manhattan, and have been for decades. Write what you know.)

So, where's Steven Strange? The Sanctum Sanctorum is in Manhattan. Is he off-world with America Chavez?

Where's Bucky Barnes? He lives in Brooklyn.

Where's Peter Parker? He lives in Queens.

We haven't yet seen Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Danny Rand, or Misty Knight, but all of them also live in the city. No idea what they're up to during this, but I wonder if we'll ever find out.

I love the show, don't get me wrong. It just requires a bit of compartmentalization to believe that Wilson Fisk could even become mayor of New York City, let alone get away with all this when so many other heroes live there, and it's not just one lapsed Catholic masochistic lawyer trying to stop him.

#daredevil #matt murdock #daredevil born again #mcu #marvel #daredevil spoilers #ddba spoilers #daredevil born again spoilers #ddba

21 notes · View notes

talltalesandbedtimestories · 1 year ago

Text

The Iceman Cometh - Dean x Reader

“The Iceman Cometh” - Dean x Reader

Rating Mature

Dean x Reader

Tags: Sweaty Dean, Turning Up The Heat, Ice Play, Mild Smut, Nipple Play, I Will Again Be Accused of Blue-Balling

Word Count: 1700

You normally love a sticky, slippery, and sweaty Dean. But, this. This is pushing it.

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Ice-play" square.

A/N: I just wanted to mix things up and write something short and fun.

Image created in Canva (photo used/found online: Facebook - Una Vida SPN)

You normally love a sticky, slippery, and sweaty Dean. But, this. This is pushing it.

“I’m sorry, what?” Dean fists his hands leaning on the motel office counter.

“AC’s out in the only room I got left!” The old lady with coke bottle glasses and Wilma Flinstone pearls repeats herself. Her cigarette-laced voice is scratchy and a couple squeaks higher this time.

You groan. Dean side-eyes you but doesn’t turn his head to acknowledge the irritation.

“It’s 100 degrees out. We get some kinda discount for pain and suffering?” he asks.

“I’ll knock ten bucks off the bill.”

“Ten bucks?” You huff out an incredulous chuckle.

“We’ll take it.”

Before you can yell at him, Dean’s already slapped a credit card on the counter.

~~~~~

Of course, this had to be the first motel with a vacancy during the two-hour trek through the Nevada desert region.

The hotbox of a room smells of mildew, cigarettes, and vinegar. You plod through the humidity and stale stench. Every bit of odor clings to your perspiring skin so there’s no escaping it. Dean curses as he taps buttons and thumbs dials on the window air conditioner, just to verify it's inoperable. You drop your bag on the bed and beeline to the bathroom.

Dean needs a shower more than you. He was the one who wrestled and skewered a ghoul in a sacred burial ground. But you’re gonna be salty about his decision to stop. You’d wanted to keep going, offering to share driving duties. Who cares if neither one of you had slept in over 24 hours?

Your pants are around your ankles in a second. The loose porcelain bowl seesaws under your weight. Regardless, you sigh in relief, weeing out all the water you’ve been guzzling to stay hydrated.

The rap of Dean’s knuckles on the bathroom door interrupts your steady stream of piss. “I’m gonna grab somethin’ at the diner we passed.” Dean’s second preferred method of appeasing you is feeding you. “Be back as soon as I can. Save me some COLD water, baby.”

A hard tug of the motel door seconds later rattles the paint-by-numbers sagebrush framed on the wall behind the toilet.

Dean left without taking your food order. You grind your teeth.

~~~~~

Forty minutes pass before the familiar engine rumbles into the lot and headlights flash through the sheer curtains.

The diner was a good fifteen minutes away, one-way, if Dean had been going the speed limit. The Impala’s warp speed must have been activated for him to have actually ordered and brought back dinner. Your stomach somersaults with distress and hunger pangs.

Dean opens the door only to hover within the threshold, a human doorstop.

You’re in a tank top and boy shorts. The best thing you could use to fan yourself is a file folder Sam stuffed with case material before you and Dean left Kansas.

Dean stretches and drops the bag of takeout on the nearby kitchenette table. He eyes you with a frown. “I’m sorry it’s shit in here. I’d say we could sleep in Baby, but it’s worse outside. Seriously.”

You’re laid atop the bed stripped of its scratchy and threadbare comforter, which is now a heap on the floor. “You know, all the times you’ve had to put that car back together again piece by piece; maybe one of those times you could have installed some air conditioning.”

He raises a finger to signal you should wait for something impressive. He dips half his body back outside, foot holding the door open. There’s bumping and huffing. Then the green cooler appears, held triumphantly in his hands. “I brought ice! Waitress at the diner sold me pounds of the stuff.” He’s sensibly in only a t-shirt, having left his duffle and jacket in the room when he’d left earlier.

“The iceman cometh.” The eyeroll is excessive, but you can’t seem to not.

“Eat, grumpy. My turn for a shower.”

~~~~~

He crunches ice chips. You suck on one cube, swirling it from one cheek pocket to the other until it melts, and then repeat with another. Forearm to forearm, you both sprawl out on the queen-sized mattress. You snapped at him earlier about the heat the boob tube would create. He stews alongside your percolating tension. You’ve allowed the bathroom light to stay on. A yellow fluorescent haze slices from the open door and spills over Dean.

There’s no escape from the heat.

“Pulse points,” he mutters.

“Right,” you snip. Your hand scoops ice out of your red solo cup. You circle a cube along your inner wrist.

There’s a shake from his side of the bed. You glance over. He’s shirtless, clad only in his boxers, rubbing ice up and down the back of his neck. Which only pisses you off more.

This hunt was supposed to end days ago. You were supposed to be celebrating your anniversary at the bunker today. You had some fun times planned. A surprise dinner of all Dean’s favorites and a movie marathon in the Dean Cave.

“I’m sorry,” you and Dean mumble simultaneously.

“We’ll get back on the road soon, sweetheart. I was spent and seeing double. Even if I can’t sleep, it’ll help just not being in motion.”

“I’ve been a major bitch.” You laugh at Dean’s deer-in-headlights reaction to your admission. “You don’t have to agree or disagree on that count, babe. You know how I get when shit doesn’t go according to plan. And, this fucking heat is not helping.”

“We both pop our tops an equal amount. That’s what makes us perfect for each other.” The backs of two of his fingers skim your elbow.

“Except when we both blow up at the same time.”

“Nah, that’s even better. Then we get to have angry make-up sex.”

You whoop out a laugh. “That’s never happened.”

“It could now?”

You grin. “But I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at everything else.”

He shrugs. “Take it out on me, then.” He reconsiders. “Or, let me cool you down?”

It’s your turn to raise a brow.

Dean grins. He tips his head way back with the cup to his lips. He shakes his hand and the ice crackles. Cup back in his lap, you spot one cheek puffed out like a chipmunk. His face crinkles up.

“You’re gonna give yourself brain freeze, idiot.”

“Worth it,” he mumbles.

His lips lean in to press a kiss. You giggle at Dean’s clumsy attempt with a mouthful of ice. A surprised squeal follows when he slips an ice cube between pursed lips to run across yours. He pulls back and smiles, crooked and unhinged. He plops the cubes into his cup sounding like a penny slot machine and sits it on his side table.

He pulls you in close for a kiss, expertly grabbing your cup from your hands. You can’t be bothered to care where he hides it.

His tongue is so cool. A popsicle with a mind of its own that you want to suck on for days. He’s very agreeable to the way your lips wrap around it. He moans. You love the particular sound of that one. It strains out of his throat. Thankful. Relaxed.

He’s fiddling with more ice, having wedged your cup between two pillows. “You’re always so hot,” he quips after you relinquish his tongue.

You skim one leg between his thighs. The skin contact is tacky and sticky. “You’re always so cheesy.”

“Not always,” Dean says with a smirk. “In this instance, I’m just stating a fact.”

You hiccup a gasp at the ice cube he presses to your wrist without warning.

Dean glides it slow, a serpentine slither, to the crook of your elbow. He swirls the spot and lets it melt and drip from your body to the sheets. His green eyes concentrate on the task.

You can’t help but lose yourself watching him. His body shimmers in a sheen of sweat. Every minute shift highlights the beautiful angles of his face. Perspiration beads up under the hairline of his forehead. You can’t resist kissing and sipping at his upper lip. He grins and returns the gesture.

He uses another piece of ice to continue upward to your shoulder. He traces the shoulder strap of your tank. A hop over it and he’s sliding down the outline of your collar. It’s a quick ride into your cleavage where he lets the remnants melt and add to the already damp material.

His tongue laps at the wetness that’s collected there. You sigh and lean back. He hums and kisses the curve of your breast, slides the strap down, and then nuzzles into the notch of your armpit.

After a few seconds, he rises up in order to gaze into your eyes with the most innocent of expressions; even though he’s freed one of your tits from the confines of your clothing.

More ice rattles by your ear like maracas.

You’re in trouble.

You purse your lips at the biting cold against your neck. It’s electrifying and refreshing. He outlines your collarbone back and forth for emphasis. A shift and he’s leaning beside you, up on one elbow to drink in the sight. One leg drapes over yours, locking you into place. You feel the growing bulge in his boxers. There’s no escaping what he has in store.

He juggles two cubes between his fingers and journeys along the crest of your breast. He’s grinning with mischief and lust now. Then his mouth parts when the ice meets your nipple. Your flesh hardens and tightens on contact. You groan. Your core clenches.

He gnaws on his bottom lip as he circles the dark pebbling bud. Air squeaks out of your mouth. You squirm. It’s a beautiful freeze burn of contrast.

Once the ice melts, his fingers, also chilled, take over kneading and pinching. His patience gone, he bends down and latches onto your cool tit. He nurses with that sinful mouth and grazes your nipple with tongue and teeth until your skin tingles back to life.

You are so out of your head with the noises he’s making and the show he’s putting on, that you're ill-prepared for his cold fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.

You shriek giggle, “Dean!”

He ends his sucking with a loud pop. He whispers against your lips, “Happy Anniversary, sweetheart.”

~~~~~

Update: Got inspired and filled another bingo square with these two. You can read "Just A Little Spice" here.

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester fan fiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic

76 notes · View notes

sassenach77yle · 10 months ago

Text

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 1 EPISODE 14 || THE SEARCH ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

Traveling openly—and slowly—along the main roads, we stopped at every croft and village and hamlet we came to. There he would make a quick survey of the local populace, round up anyone suffering from illness or injury, and bring them to me for treatment. Physicians being few and far between in these parts, there was always someone ailing to attend to. While I was occupied with my tonics and salves, he would chat idly with the friends and relatives of the afflicted, taking care to describe the path of our journey toward Beauly. If by chance there were no patients to be seen in a place, we would pause nonetheless for the night, seeking shelter at a cottage or tavern. In these places, Murtagh would sing to entertain our hosts and earn our supper, stubbornly insisting that I preserve all the money I had with me, in case it should be needed when we found Jamie. Not naturally inclined toward conversation, he taught me some of his songs, to pass the time as we plodded on from place to place. “Ye’ve a decent voice,” he observed, one day, after a moderately successful attempt at “The Dowie Dens of Yarrow.” “Not well-trained, but strong and true enough. Try it once more and ye’ll sing it wi’ me tonight. There’s a wee tavern at Limraigh.” “Do you really think this will work?” I asked. “What we’re doing, I mean?” He shifted about in the saddle before answering. No natural horseman, he always looked like a monkey trained to ride a horse, but still managed to dismount fresh as a daisy at day’s end, while I could barely manage to hobble my horse before staggering off to collapse. “Oh, aye,” he said, at last. “Sooner or later. You’re seein’ more sick folk these days, no?” This was true, and I admitted as much. “Well, then,” he said, proving his point, “that means word o’ your skill is spreading. And that’s what we want. But we could maybe do better. That’s why you’ll sing tonight. And perhaps …” He hesitated, as though reluctant to suggest something. “Perhaps what?” “Know anything about fortune-telling, do ye?” he asked warily. I understood the reason for his hesitancy; he had seen the frenzy of the witch-hunt at Cranesmuir. I smiled. “A bit. You want me to try it?” “Aye. The more we can offer, the more folk will come to see us—and go back to tell others. And word will spread about us, ’til the lad hears of us. And that’s when we’ll find him. Game to try, are ye?” I shrugged. “If it will help, why not?”

I made my debut as singer and fortune-teller that night at Limraigh, with considerable success. I found that Mrs. Graham had been right in what she had told me—it was the faces, not the hands, that gave you the necessary clues. Our fame spread, little by little, until by the next week, people were running out of their cottages to greet us as we rode into a village, and showering us with pennies and small gifts as we rode away.

“You know, we could really make something of this,” I remarked one evening, stowing the night’s takings away. “Too bad there’s no theater anywhere near—we could do a proper music-hall turn: Magical Murtagh and His Glamorous Assistant, Gladys.”

Cap 34 ~outlander

#outlander #the frasers #outlanderedit #outlander starz #outlander series #jamie fraser #outlander fanart #samheughan #jamie&claire #jamie and claire #dr claire randall #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #caitrionabalfe #outlander books #outlander season 1 #outlander 1x14

38 notes · View notes

dangerliesbeforeyou · 9 months ago

Text

i'm never not thinkin about the meta stuff in tlog's apocalypse cos like... if we ignore the very last scene (the bit with the tails lol), it effectively ends with the characters being finally free from their writers (who all just end up fucking dead lol)... the idea that the characters have been given a chance to be more than their series counterparts, that they can make their own decisions untethered by sitcom tropes... like yeh it's weird that herr lipp ends up adopting a bunch of kids when he knew he buried a boy alive in the series, but the point is that that herr lipp in the series and the film ARE two different characters right?

proven by the fact ALL tlog characters in the film, within the narrative OF the film, aren't being written by the writers from the start... like they were already writing themselves and they had no idea lol

and then it all comes crashing down in the specials when the writers take hold again and the characters forced back into the roles that they were written for... i'm no great fan of the specials, i'll be honest (i think that a lot of the gags felt even more tired and lazy than the ones made in the 90s which is kinda impressive in itself pfft) but i DO love that we get several story lines of characters being trapped and unable to change or grow... pauline at the hospital, geoff making the same mistakes over and over, ollie's dream, charlie and stella's... everything lol, etc etc...

idk i just find it so interesting that the concepts in tlog's apocalypse aren't the same as smth like the never ending story, where an outside force will believe/speak a story into existence, but INSTEAD the idea that stories and characters actually live apart from the creators or the fans and only in those separate worlds do they have free will...

(side note, i'd honestly say the only character that maybe ? gets to have free will in the specials is les... we see him finally get the glimmer of success that he's wanted for so long only to just... say no. he walks away, no longer wanting to be the sad trope that he was defined by... it's honestly kinda the perfect end to his character even if it is pretty sad lol...)

+ then you look at how all of this relates to plodding on (which i know much smarter people than me have already talked about at length pfft) and this whole idea of endless cycles and doomed narratives as how it pertains to the character of the writer's themselves... the way reece and steve, like every one of the character's they've written before and will write since, are also kinda trapped in the tropes of their own making... idk

#i wrote this like 2 weeks ago but never posted it lol #anyway i was right and i should say it #the league of gentlemen #tlog #the league of gentlemen's apocalypse #lmao as i was writing these tags tumblr suggested i write 'reece shearsmith' like ummm not EVERYTHNIG'S about HIM godddd #btw i do have more thoughts about plodding on #but im gearing up to rewatch it (and cry) and some point so.. that will probs be in a few months lol #anyway no idea if this is even comprehensible to anyone other than me but who cares lol

30 notes · View notes

eyesofshinigami · 6 months ago

Text

Title: Country Roads, Take Me Home

Rating: T

Pairing: Steddie

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Eddie Munson Has Good Grandparents, Appalachian Eddie, First Kiss, Road Trips, Pining

Summary: Appalachian Eddie decides to take Steve back to his Meemaw's cabin for Christmas.

Written for @turinspeachjam for the Steddie Writer’s Guild Fic Exchange over at @strangerthingswritersguild

-*-

"I've never been to the mountains before."

That simple statement was the catalyst for the entire trip. Steve had told Eddie that he had never been the mountains, so Eddie knew just where to take him. Wayne had been okay with it, giving Eddie a knowing look, but Eddie had chosen to ignore it.

So, instead of spending Christmas on the couch with Wayne, watching basketball and eating frozen dinners, Eddie and Steve are plodding across the country in Wayne's little pickup truck so that they can stay in the little cabin up in the mountains of West Virginia that still belongs to Eddie's family. One of the few things that Al Munson didn't manage to pull out from under their feet and ruin.

"The trees look so weird from up here. They're all spindly," Steve remarked, pointing out the window. "I thought they would have been… I don't know, greener?"

Eddie bit his lip trying to hold in his laughter. "That's because it's winter, dude. All the leaves are gone." Steve's face scrunched up adorably. "Next time we can come back in the spring, or in the fall."

Next time. Like Eddie was sure that Steve was going to stick around that long. Sure, they were moving away together, following Robin to Chicago since she got into school there. But Eddie wasn't stupid. He knew there wasn't a great chance that Steve wouldn't meet someone, move out, live that apple pie life with a wife and children that he liked to talk about.

Read the rest over here!

#les writes things #steddie #fluff #pining #stwgwinterexchange24

24 notes · View notes

skyward-floored · 10 months ago

Note

ALSO—

what are Sky and Sun and Hyrule's reactions to what happened to Malon????? (Downfall IAU)

- hero-of-the-wolf

@hero-of-the-wolf So only one of those characters ended up actually showing up in this fic, because FOUR somehow snatched the focus (the sneak). But there will be more with the others at some point :)

(Comes after the tunnel argument fic)

...

They’d been walking for hours, and Four was exhausted.

He tiredly blinked rain out of his eyes as he plodded along beside Wind, his older brother looking just as exhausted as he felt. Wind almost slipped in a puddle, but caught himself, and Four sighed wearily.

The tunnel had finally led them out into a little park somewhere, the exit hidden by weeds and the roots of a tree. Legend said that in the springtime the spot was covered in flowers, but at the moment it just had fallen leaves scattered across it that were the color of blood. They’d slipped out of the park and around the business district they’d ended up in, sticking to side streets and taking shortcuts through alleys.

Luckily for them it was a chilly day, and there weren’t many people around to see Legend and Four in their supersuits, and Ravio obviously limping.

They had taken a break somewhere around lunchtime in a spot Legend had deemed safe (behind some dumpsters), but even the nap and food they’d all had wasn’t enough to regain much of their energy. Four couldn’t even be too happy they were out of the cramped tunnel since it had started to rain shortly after they’d emerged, which made their trip even more miserable.

Not to mention they’d had close calls with the authorities twice now, and the stress made Four feel like he was going to throw up.

“Are we there yet?” Ravio groaned, leaning against Legend a little extra-dramatically.

Legend rolled his eyes and shoved him back, though he still kept his arm around his shoulders to support him. “No, we’re not there yet,” Legend grumbled. “If we were there, I’d be taking a hot shower or a nap, not plodding through side streets half-soaked and being hunted by the stupid government.”

“Fair. I would kill for a hot bath,” Ravio sighed dreamily, and Four saw Wind crack a tiny smile.

Ravio had started talking again an hour or two ago, and Four at least appreciated the dark-haired teenager’s dramatics. It was a little bit of light in the sea of unfamiliarity he was currently swimming through, and took his mind off some of the stress.

And with Wind being unusually quiet and Legend focused like a laser on their goal, Ravio was pretty much the only one of them willing to so much as crack a joke.

Ravio opened his mouth to keep talking, but Wind suddenly motioned for them to stop, and held his hand out, obviously listening to the wind.

“Patrol,” he whispered urgently, and Four held back a whimper, sick of the whole thing.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to go home so badly it hurt.

Legend nodded at Wind’s warning, and dragged Ravio away behind a pile of trash cans, Wind and Four hurrying behind them. They all crammed into the damp spot, Ravio hissing through his teeth when his leg got squished, but they didn’t have time to reposition before footsteps pounded down the street, mixing with the sound of the rain.

Four squished himself up to Wind’s side, and they all held their breath as the group marched right past their hiding place. Muffled radio noises and some complaints about the rain drifted through the air, and Four closed his eyes, heart pounding in his throat.

But after what felt like ages, the steps faded away again, and Legend finally whispered an all clear.

Ravio sighed in relief as they all squirmed back out from the trash cans, letting Legend help him stand again. Four was impressed by the dark-haired boy’s endurance— Ravio had made some somewhat dramatic complaints during their trip, but he’d kept up with the rest of them fairly well, even with his leg. He was tougher than he’d expected.

“Hey, c’mon,” Wind said with a nudge to Four’s arm, and Four realized he’d been staring into the distance without moving. “...You okay, Four?”

Four sighed. “Fine,” he replied quietly, ignoring his headache and exhaustion and low-level terror that was hounding his steps. It was fine. They just had to keep going. And Four needed to stay numb to everything or else he’d get so upset he’d probably split and that really wouldn’t end well right now.

“Okay,” Wind murmured in reply, and gave him another gentler nudge.

Then they got moving yet again.

The afternoon dragged on, tense and damp, all of them blindly following Legend. They’d moved a little further out from the city into a more rural area, where the houses had bigger yards, and more trees were visible. There were still signs of the controlling mess that the government had become, but it felt a little less oppressive out here.

Or maybe Four just wanted to think that.

The rain increased, going from a drizzle to a shower as they walked. Four slipped more than once in puddles that were deeper than they looked, and after a while he slipped into something of a daze, just mindlessly putting one foot in front of the other.

Step. Step. Splash.

Don’t think about Mom. Don’t think about Twilight. Don’t think about home.

Step. Step.

Step.

...

The grey sky had begun to darken by the time Legend finally came to a stop, rain pattering steadily on their heads. They’d stopped in front of a medium-sized, perfectly normal-looking house, and Four wearily raised his head to look at it.

After hearing so much about what Sky was supposedly doing, he’d sort of guessed his house would look less... normal.

He’d kind of been expecting a more secret-basey thing. Or an abandoned-looking warehouse, maybe. At least some kind of fake “go no further!” sign that you’d spin around and find a keypad on, and after putting in the secret code, you’d slide into a big secret base.

...Or maybe he’d just read too many of Wind’s comic books.

“This is it?” Wind whispered, and Legend nodded, relief clear in his gaze.

“This is it.”

He shooed Wind, Four, and Ravio into a bush where they’d be hidden, then turned invisible, nothing but a space where the rain should be falling any evidence that he was there. Soft footsteps trailed up to the house’s front step, and then a series of taps came from the door, ones Four thought sounded familiar.

A long moment of silence went by before the door creaked open, a blonde woman peering out at the street. Legend waited a second, then made his body flicker once, just long enough to show that he was there.

The woman’s expression somehow both lightened and creased, and she opened the door wider, saying something that Four couldn’t make out. Then Legend became fully visible, and he turned towards the bush, motioning for them to come over.

“It’s safe,” he called softly, and Wind and Four slowly emerged from the bushes again, tugging Ravio with them.

Legend waited on the porch until they joined him, and then all four of them entered the house, cold and wet and shivery with exhaustion. The blonde woman pulled Legend into a tight hug mere moments later, uncaring of the wet clothes or mud, and Four realized with a jolt that it was their aunt Sun, her hair shorter than what he was used to, face stressed.

“Legend, oh my goodness, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said as she squeezed him. “The radio was compromised, we had to cut all communication and didn’t get any of your mom’s messages about everything until about an hour ago.”

“Figured it was something like that,” Legend murmured as he tiredly pulled back from her arms, and Sun let him, running a worried hand along his cheek.

“We thought the worst when we tried to reply and nobody answered,” she continued, then exhaled, obviously quite relieved. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Four took the opportunity to look around the house while she and Legend talked, a little disappointed again. It was a pretty normal house all things considered, sort of familiar, but not exactly, and he saw nothing that would suggest any secret resistance stuff.

...Which, now that he was thinking about it, was probably a good thing.

“And these must be our unusual travelers,” Sun said, and Four looked back to see her looking at him and Wind. As with most people in his family here, her gaze lingered on Four for a moment before moving on. “Wind and Four, right? Malon told us about you a bit. It’s nice to... wait, where’s Malon?”

The already quiet room went deathly silent.

Legend looked at the puddle by his shoes, and a few silent seconds ticked by, dread clawing up Four’s stomach.

“...Legend?” Sun asked again, her voice much more serious.

“She got caught,” he said in a flat voice. “She bought us time we needed, and Cryonis arrested her.”

“Warriors?” Sun asked in horror, and Four saw Wind swallow.

“He was there, but it was mostly these soldier guys that did it,” Wind added on, and Legend glared at him. Wind ignored it. “But... yeah. She saved us. And got arrested.”

Sun looked stricken, and she leaned against the wall, processing the information.

“Hey, um, I’m really sorry to interrupt,” Ravio spoke up in a sort of wobbly voice, “but I’ve been shot at, rescued, shot at again, escaped again, been walking on a torn-up leg all day, and the last 48 hours have just kind of sucked. Do you have somewhere I could sit?”

Sun immediately straightened and nodded, putting a kind hand on his back. “Of course, I’m so sorry. You’re Ravio, aren’t you? Malon mentioned you in one of her messages.”

Ravio faintly smiled. “That’s me.“

“I’ll get Hyrule up here in a minute, and he’ll fix you right up,” Sun said, and Four smiled a little at the reminder of him. It’d be nice to see Hyrule again. At least somebody was safe.

“Aunt Sun, where’s Sky?” Legend asked before Sun could move, and her face creased.

“He went to your house to see if he could help. Hopefully he’ll stay hidden when he sees what happened... I’ll contact him and let him know you’re safe,” she reassured. “I’m sure you boys are dying for a rest, why don’t you come get dried off, and then I’ll figure out some beds for you.”

She put her hand on Four’s shoulder as she said it, and to his embarrassment, tears suddenly pricked at his eyes. He quickly swallowed them back, but Sun must have seen them, since she gave his shoulder a light squeeze.

That only made them try to come out more, and Four hurriedly wiped his eyes, stuffing down the emotions swirling to life in his chest.

Not right now, he thought, swallowing back the lump in his throat, his legs shaking. Not right now, you’re fine. Just relax, you’re fine. You’re fine.

“Four?” Wind asked, his voice concerned, and Four sniffed, his lip wobbling against his will. “Aw Four.”

Wind quickly tugged him into a hug, and Four swallowed again, sniffling into his brother’s damp sleeve.

This was dumb, why was he crying? Legend wasn’t crying and he’d lost his mom and had no clue where his brother was and his uncle had practically tried to kill him. Four was just homesick and exhausted. Those were hardly on the same level.

Dumb exhaustion, he thought with another sniffle.

“You know you can split if you want, it’s safe here,” Wind reminded quietly, and Four shook his head. He didn’t want to deal with the rush of emotion that would bring. Not in front of everyone, anyway. “Okay.”

Four let a few tears leak out, letting the ache in his throat ease up a bit as they fell. He didn’t let himself sink into the emotion that was threatening to swallow him, and focused on steadying his breathing as Wind held on to him, riding it out. Then he leaned back, wiping his eyes one more time.

“You okay?” Wind asked, and Four noted with a bit of surprise that his eyes were damp as well.

“Yes. I’m okay, just... tired,” Four whispered, and took a deep breath. He did feel a little better now, actually. Not great. But better. “I’m okay. Let’s get dried off.”

Wind looked at him for a second, then nodded, not saying anything. Four awkwardly glanced back over at where Sun stood beside Legend and Ravio, but none of them said anything about the brief cry. Sun just looked sympathetic, and Ravio and Legend were suddenly very interested in the pictures on the wall.

“Lucky for you all, I just finished a load of clean towels,” Sun said with a smile, and then turned to lead them to a different room. “If we’re lucky, they’ll still be warm from the dryer.”

Everyone followed, and though Wind didn’t say anything further to Four, he took his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Four swallowed, and silently returned it.

#a reminder that Four is younger here than in lu #somewhere in the 9-11 range at this point #he’s just a little guy...#wind is too though he’s only two years older than him #they’re all little guys aaaaaaaaa #answers from the floor #lovely hero of the wolf #downfall iau #fic #writing from the floor #this was originally longer and had Hyrule in it #but I was having trouble making things behave and decided to just tackle that in a different oneshot haha

27 notes · View notes