#how you can adjust solely to just surviving

[isbuckybarnesokay]

Steve never turns the heater on in his car when he's alone. This is something Eddie picks up on fairly quickly, as summer turns to autumn, as the air cools down. The mornings are icy, now. There's a bite to each and every breath that you can suck in almost like smoke, and it's pleasant for all of two seconds before it chills you to the bone.

The first time he notices it, there's so much noise in the car that Eddie doesn't get a chance to say anything - Dustin is chattering on to Mike about god-knows-what. Instead, he just watches from the passenger seat as Steve clocks Will's chattering teeth in the rearview mirror and immediately reaches forward to crank up the dial.

The second time, it's just Steve and Eddie, and they're driving back from dropping Eddie's van off at the mechanics. Steve meets him outside the shop at a crisp 7am, and it's fucking freezing, honestly. Eddie slides into the passenger seat and winces at the way his breaths come out in a cloud. "Shit, dude," he groans, "aren't you cold?" Steve shrugs, focused on driving. "A bit, I guess. Help yourself." He waves at the AC settings carelessly. How the fuck are you not freezing your balls off? Eddie wonders, but he doesn't voice the thought aloud, though he very much wants to. There's something here, he thinks. There's something I'm not getting.

The third time it happens, Eddie doesn't even need to get in the car to know Steve didn't switch the heating on. He knows this because when Steve saunters into the new trailer, a 6-pack in hand, his lips are almost blue. He's wearing a too-thin jacket, undone over a plain shirt. Eddie frowns. "Jesus Christ, Steve," he murmurs, immediately rushing through to his room to grab a sweater. He throws it at Steve when he gets back out to the main room, chewing at the inside of his cheek. "What's this for?" "Because you're fucking freezing, man. Are you kidding me? You're turning to ice right in front of me, look at you." And it's so wrong that Steve looks so confused. It's so wrong. Because he's so clearly cold as hell. It looks painful, damn it, the way his hands are shaking, the way he can't quite move his fingers properly when he goes to pop the cap off of his beer. I am going to take care of you until you figure out how to take care of yourself, Eddie thinks, fierce and determined. And he does.

When Steve leaves that night, after the movie, Eddie makes him keep the black knit sweater on, makes him take it with him. "You look cute," he grins, aiming for playful, aiming for the misdirect. He likes the way it makes Steve blush, anyway. It's a win-win. Eddie follows close behind Steve down the steps of the trailer, catching the driver's door with a quick hand before it can slam closed. He waits for Steve to start the car before getting to work. "What're you-" Steve begins, falling silent as Eddie leans over him and switches the heating on. "You," he mutters, pulling back, tapping a finger on Steve's forehead. "You keep that on until you get home, you hear me, big boy?" Steve looks bewildered, but nods anyway.

Eddie starts bringing an extra jacket or sweater with him everywhere, after that, and it comes in handy more times than he'd like. He wishes it wasn't the only way to get Steve into his clothes. He buys Steve a hot water bottle with a cover that's the same yellow as that sweater that he loves so much. Eddie gets into the habit of calling Steve each night, and before he hangs up, he tells Steve to fill it up. Tells Steve to use it. He checks Steve's bed one day, pulls back the duvet a bit, and can't help but beam when he sees the hot water bottle tucked there. When he presses a hand to it, it's still warm.

One day, nearing Christmas, now, Eddie slides into the passenger seat of Steve's car, and the heater is already on, car toasty and warm. His cheeks dimple when he sees that Steve is already wearing Eddie's own black knit sweater; His smile only widens further as Steve comments, "Fucking freezing today, man. When did it get so cold?" Eddie just chokes out a laugh and throws the spare jacket he'd brought with him onto the back seat. He has to turn his head to look out the window so Steve can't see the proud tears in his eyes.

[alloftheimagines]

joel miller | survive

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 4.7k

warnings: 18+! not for minors! please please please read the warnings and skip this one if you're uncomfortable with the subject matter.

episode eight reimagining with the same hard-hitting themes: blood, violence, cannibalism, sexual assault, killing, abduction, vomit. reader takes the place of ellie. angst. hurt/comfort. no happy ending as requested because i wasn't sure that could exist in these circumstances, but there is now a part two where joel takes care of reader and the fic ends on a lighter note.

prompt: Hi! Would love to request something for Joel Miller 🥰 Angst but with a happy ending, after seeing episode 8 I thought maybe reader is with Joel and Ellie, but this time Ellie stays back to keep an eye on Joel so reader gets kidnapped and is the one Joel basically comes back from the dead to save? hahshxdjfbf I just imagine them reuniting and UGH 🥹❤️ Feel free to ignore this if inspiration doesn’t strike!

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld

You’re terrified of losing Joel. So terrified that instead of watching him shiver and sweat on an old, bloodied mattress as his infection spreads, you opt to go out and hunt. It isn’t solely selfish. You need food, and Ellie needs to rest. At least this way you’re doing something productive rather than waiting for a miracle. 

Still, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything but the knot in your stomach, the one that keeps asking “what if?” What if Joel doesn’t make it? How will you survive past that grief for long enough to keep Ellie safe? How will you go back to Jackson and tell Tommy that his brother is gone?

You’re lost in those thoughts when you hear the crunching of snow, and you try to shake them away, readying Joel’s shotgun as you search for the source. 

A deer. It’s so beautiful that for a second, you forget that it’s supposed to be your next meal. You’d forgotten beauty still existed in a world so broken, forgotten that nature can still be kind. 

But humans can’t. Not if you want to survive; not if you want Joel to survive. 

You take a deep breath. Adjust your posture. Shoot. 

The bullet doesn’t hit where you want it to; where you know you should have been aiming if only you weren’t so distracted. The deer darts away. Whispering a curse, you follow the trail of blood —

And find more than you bargained for. Two men wait with the dying deer at their feet. They look… clean. Comfortable. Not people struggling to find food or clothing. You raise your gun again immediately, and theirs point back at you. 

“Put your guns down,” you order, trying to sound braver than you feel. You did alright before Joel came into your life, but it’s been a while since you’ve been alone and it’s hard to summon the strength that used to come so easy. 

“You first,” the darker-haired man says, narrowing his gaze. 

The fairer man glances warily before slowly lowering his. Good. At least one of them is smart. 

“Not going to happen. On the ground. Kick it away.” You shift on your feet, gripping your gun tightly and readying your finger on the trigger. You don’t enjoy killing people, but you will if you have to. If it means getting back to Joel and Ellie. 

“James,” the unarmed man says, calm authority firm in his voice. The one in charge, then. “Do as she says.” He holds up his hands in surrender as his friend, James, finally puts his gun away. “We mean no trouble. We’d just like to talk.”

“So talk,” you bite out, making no move to lower your own gun. 

“Alright.” His breath is visible in the cool air, nose pink and runny. “My name is David. This is James. We’re from a town just south of here.”

“Good for you. Maybe you should go back now.”

An amused smirk twitches at his mouth. “Thing is, we have a lot of mouths to feed down there, and this deer… it would keep us going for a week. Maybe two.”

“Shame it isn’t yours,” you say.

A short sigh escapes him. “Right. It is a shame. But if I could offer you warm shelter and good food, a welcoming community, why couldn’t we share?” 

You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not interested in negotiating.”

“With all due respect, ma’am… as far as I can tell, you’re all alone in these woods. There’s no reason why you have to be.”

It’s clear the other man, James, isn’t in on David’s kind offer. His mouth is pursed in a thin line, jaw grinding as though he’s holding back from saying something. Welcoming community, my ass. 

Still, an idea strikes. You need something else more than you need the deer, and if this town has supplies… “You have medicine in this town of yours?”

David hesitates before dipping his head. “We do.”

“Antibiotics?”

“Yes…”

Hope swells in you for the first time since Joel was injured. 

“If you put the gun down, we’d be much more open to discussing what it is you need,” he continues. “Please?”

Gulping, you slowly lower your gun — but you keep it in your hand just in case, stomach still filled with unease. Not every settlement will be like Jackson, and there’s something… off about these two. 

“If you get me that medicine, you can have the deer.”

“We can do you one better. We have a nurse down in the village who can help you with your injury. If you just come with us…”

“No,” you say. “You’ll bring the medicine here, to me.”

Another strange smile. “You’ll be much more likely to survive the winter if you let us help you.”

Impatient, you raise your gun again. “Bring it or stop wasting my damn time.”

David lifts his hands again. “Okay. Alright. James, go and fetch what the lady needs.” 

“David—” James begins to protest, but is quickly cut off. 

“Go on now.” 

Reluctantly, he does, and then it’s just the two of you. 

“I know a place you can get warm,” he offers. “It’s just through the trees. An old greenhouse. No need to wait out here in the cold.”

It makes your gut twist, how he seems to be determined to get you moving, to take you out of these woods. And there’s a glint in his eye, something untrustworthy there — even his right-hand man seemed to see it. Nobody follows orders like that with pure reasons. He’s… scared, or at least threatened. 

“I’m fine just here.”

“Okay. What’s your name?”

“I’m the one holding a gun, which means I’ll be the one asking questions. How many people are there in this town of yours?”

“Forty. Like I said, there’s room for one more. Perhaps it was God’s will, us meeting today.”

Oh, good, you think. He’s a God botherer. You didn’t particularly subscribe to religion before the world turned to shit, and you sure as hell have better things to do than pray now. 

“Unless you’re not alone.” His voice seems to lower as though he knows something, and you stiffen instinctively. “Is the injury yours?”

“It’s none of your business.”

He no longer seems to be staring down the barrel of your gun, but right into you. “Because a few of our men had some trouble a few days ago. A man, a woman, and a young girl. Man was thought to be badly injured, you see. If he lived… well, I’d imagine that kinda wound would be susceptible to a nasty infection.”

He knows. He always knew. The raiders you crossed paths with, the ones who hurt Joel… 

You no longer feel like the one holding the gun. You feel like the deer bleeding on the snow between you. Prey. Still, you set your chin. “I don’t know what you mean. I travel alone.”

“See, I believe you, but the thing is… my friend, James… he’s not so certain. I’d imagine that once he comes back with that medicine, he’ll be rounding up a few men to go hunting for these people. If what you’re saying is true, I wouldn’t want you to be caught in the middle of that. That’s why it’s much safer you just come with me now, see?” 

Your upper lip curls into a warning snarl, finger twitching on the gun’s trigger. But if you kill him, you won’t get Joel’s medicine. You’ll lose him. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 

“Hmm.” He debates this. “There’s a third option.”

“Not interested.”

“I think you are,” he pushes. “I think you’re one of them, and I think you’re trying to help your man. Very noble, but strange. You don’t seem a good match. You’re so… young, so calm, and from what I hear, he’s dangerous. Ruthless, even. A cold-blooded killer. Maybe if you come into town with me now, we can arrange for that medicine to be delivered without my brigade charging in and doing some damage. There’s a place for you. Your daughter, too. You don’t need to be tied to him anymore.”

You want to scoff, or else laugh in his face. Does he believe you’re that simple, that stupid? Does he believe you’re a fucking damsel in need of saving?

Anger simmers in you at the thought. “I think it’s about time you shut up.” You point the barrel at his head now, right between his brows.

He doesn’t balk, doesn’t tremble, doesn’t so much as blink, and you’re beginning to understand. He’s the type of man who uses religion to veil whatever monster lies beneath. He isn’t some small-town do-gooder, though he might believe it. 

You dread to think what he might be capable of. 

“I think it’s about time you drop your weapon.” The voice doesn’t belong to David. It comes from behind along with the feeling of cold metal against the back of your skull. You risk a glance over your shoulder to see the man from before, James. You should have heard him creep up, should have seen, but you were so focused on the one in front of you.

Your heart thunders as you realise you might not get out of it this time. 

“We only want you to come with us,” David says, eyes round with feigned innocence. “That’s all. We don’t want to hurt you.”

“The gun to my head says otherwise. What would God say about this?” you retort, dripping venom because it’s all you have left. 

A strange sadness crosses David’s face. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

Before you can pull the trigger, something heavy slams into your skull, and then darkness swallows you whole. 

***

You wake in a cage, the taste of blood on your tongue and your wrists bound by rope. David is on the other side of the bars in what looks to be a kitchen, utensils hanging on the wall. Great butchers’ knives and cleavers wink at you in the watery daylight. You go cold with fear, crawling to the furthest corner of the cage. 

“Let me go,” you say. “Let me go!” 

“I’m sorry. It’s for your own good,” he says. “You were corrupted, but I can help you see the light again.”

“Why are you doing this?” You’re choking on a sob, thoughts of Joel and Ellie running through your mind. What if they found them? Joel is in and out of consciousness and Ellie can’t fight on her own. 

David curls his fingers around the bars. “It’s God’s will. I was meant to meet you today. This is where you’re supposed to be.”

“In a fucking cage?” you spit, voice echoing around the kitchen. You pull at the rope until your skin splits, crying out when you realise this is it. There’s no way out. You’re trapped, and you have no idea what this man truly wants with you. 

“This is merely a precaution,” he says. “I was wrong about you before. You are dangerous too. You have a dark heart, just like me. If you would just surrender, you could be part of this community.”

You squeeze your eyes closed, clamping down on a plea. You doubt it will do any good. Still, tears roll down your cheeks. “Fuck you,” you whisper. 

“You don’t understand yet. You will.” David takes a step back, and somehow the prospect of him leaving you here causes your stomach to turn to water. 

“Don’t do this,” you say. But he walks away with a glint in his eye that promises he will be back, and you’re left alone. 

Dizziness rattles through you as you pull yourself onto your feet, testing the sturdiness of the bars in hopes you’ll find a weak spot. But it’s padlocked closed and the screws are in tightly —

Something catches your eye, pale and fleshy on the kitchen tiles. 

An ear. 

In the kitchen. 

You vomit without warning as it all comes together. You wonder if the community even knows that their leader feeds them people. Wonder who was last in this cage and how long it took for them to become a meal. 

You scramble against the ropes again and pray — not to whatever fucked up God David worships, but someone — that you find a way out. 

***

“Joel!” Ellie shakes him frantically and finally he comes to. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his face drawn and pale, but he finally ate something earlier and she’s been keeping him hydrated as he drifts in and out of sleep.

Now, he frowns and hums in question.

“Y/N isn’t back. She didn’t come back, and now people are here.”

The sound of shuffling outside is only growing louder, and she keeps her voice to a whisper as fear grips her. It’s not like you to go more than two hours without checking in, even if you haven’t caught anything for dinner yet. That four hours have passed means something is wrong, and Ellie doesn’t know what to do, how to find you. She needs Joel. She needs you. 

“What?” Joel struggles to sit up, the mattress groaning under his weight as he clutches his injured stomach. But he’s alert, awake, and that’s better than he’s been in days. 

“She isn’t back,” Ellie says again, voice trembling now. “Someone’s here, Joel. They know about us.” 

Understanding clears through the fog in his eyes slowly, and he looks up as he hears the floorboards creak above. “Shit,” he curses, dragging himself slowly to his knees. Ellie watches, pulling out her own gun. “Hide somewhere. Let me deal with it.”

He’s in no fit state to deal with anything, but when Ellie protests, he shushes her and orders her to do as he says, so she does. And as he readies himself for a fight he can’t win, panic rushes through him. You’re not back. Somebody is here. 

He’s failed again, or at least is about to, and this time it’s you he’s afraid to lose. 

He summons that anger when the silhouette slowly stalks down the stairs. Summons it a lot more when he’s throwing an arm around the idiot’s neck to squeeze the life out of him. 

***

Joel has forgotten his injury. He’s forgotten anything but you; the thought of you alone, in danger, afraid. His fingers curl into fists at his side, and when the attacker finally rouses, he orders Ellie to leave the room. He doesn’t want her to see what comes next; who he becomes when he’s trying to protect the people he loves. 

Nausea twists through him, but it mingles with anticipation. Some sick excitement. He’s good at being violent. Better at being vengeful. 

“Where is she?” he asks, voice just steady enough to be assertive. 

The attacker mumbles something, and Joel’s patience quickly dwindles. 

“Who are you?” he asks, louder now. 

The attacker shakes his head. Doesn’t want to play. 

Joel brandishes his knife. 

The attacker’s eyes widen in fear as he presses the point into his finger, ignoring the throbbing in his stomach. “You want to do this the hard way?”

“I'm not telling you anything.”

Joel tilts his head and clenches his jaw. Then in one swift motion, he’s gripping the arms of the chair the attacker is tied to, quivering with anger as he towers over him. “Last chance.”

The attacker purses his lips, and Joel steps back, watching him sink in relief — relishing in that false sense of security. Then he throws the first punch, the impact of fist to jaw singing through his bones. He shakes out his hand, punches again. Blood splatters, but he goes again twice more just for good measure, growing weaker with every blow. He stops when he realises that, knowing he needs to conserve his energy to get to you. 

“Where the fuck is she?” he bellows.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” 

He plunges the knife into the attackers knee, the sound of bone crunching and flesh squelching as blood dribbles down his jeans and the attacker cries out. That’s when he begins to beg. That’s when Joel knows he’ll tell him anything. 

“Alright!” he’s whimpering. “Alright, please!” 

“Tell me where she is or I swear to god, I’ll pop you’re fucking kneecap off.” Joel drives the blade deeper, thirsty now. Desperate. He can’t do this without you. He needs you safe. If he finds out you’re hurt…

“With David!” he blubbers. “She’s with David in town!” 

“What tooooown?” (oh, you thought I wouldn’t?)

“Silver Lake!” 

“Who the fuck is David and what does he want with her?” 

“He…” the man chokes on his own sobs again, and Joel tugs on the knife, earning a piercing scream. “I don’t know what he wants, okay? He’s the leader! He… he took to her, I don’t know!” 

A chill crawls down Joel’s spine and his vision blurs as he pauses. His blood-drenched fingers tremble, and he doesn’t know how to make them stop. “What do you mean, he took to her?” 

The man spits out blood. “He likes her. Wants her to join him. I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I told you everything.” 

Joel wants to tear him apart then and there, but he pulls out his map, yanking the knife from the man’s knee to put the hilt in his mouth. The attacker howls, tears streaking down his cheeks. Joel wants to tell him he’ll do a lot fucking worse if he finds you harmed. He wants to say a lot of things, but cotton fills his mouth and he needs to find you. He needs to stop wasting time. “Point it out to me.”

“It’s not a real town. It’s just a fucking community. I don’t know.”

Joel grips the man’s collar, and his voice falls deathly low. “Point it out to me or I’ll make sure your other knee matches.”

It’s enough motivation for the attacker to pinpoint a spot. His blood stains the map, highlighting a small valley between the forest and mountains. 

Joel puts the map in his back pocket and slits the man’s throat before he can beg for his life. He’s not feeling merciful today. 

***

David comes back for you an hour later. “Have you reconsidered?” 

You only glare at him, your wrists bloody and your eyes gritty from so many shed tears. To your surprise, he unlocks the cage. Despite your better instinct, you stay seated, stay calm. You won’t get out of this if you try to run now. He has the upper hand, and you’ll let him have it, hoping his arrogance, his underestimation of you, will be his downfall. 

“You must be hungry,” he says. “Come. Let me show you what I can offer.”

Shakily, you rise from the ground. “Will you at least untie me?”

“I’ll think about it.”

He leads you out of your kitchen. When he’s not looking, you lean your back to the table and snatch an abandoned knife, slipping it up your sleeve. 

The front of the building is laid out like an old, cheap restaurant and bar, candles burning and booths lining the windows. 

“I’m glad you’ve calmed down,” he says. “Now we’ll get a chance to know each other properly.”

Slowly, you begin to saw at the rope with the knife as he leads you to a booth. Two plates are set at the table, a candle lit in the middle, and you think about the ear on the floor. Wonder if the meat in the stew is not animal, not your deer. You want to throw up again, but you swallow down the bile in favour of relief: the rope has snapped. You keep your hands behind your back as you shuffle in your seat, trying to avoid looking at the meal. The smell of it makes your stomach turn. 

“What do you want from me?” you ask finally. 

David places a napkin on his lap. “I’m showing you hospitality. Hospitality you haven’t earned, might I add. Where is your gratitude?”

“Where the fuck is my medicine?”

Without warning, he stands and slaps you, and you can’t control your anger as the sting prickles along your cheekbone. You throw your plate at him, the food splattering his face and staining his shirt, and then you run. 

A mistake. He hauls you back quickly, and the two of you topple to the floor as he slams your wrist down, forcing the knife away. He pins your hands and then straddles you, and you know what comes next. You know, and you shouldn’t, and this isn’t happening. 

“You need to be taught some manners,” he croons, taking your chin in his hands. “A girl like you… you need to learn how to submit. Especially when we’re married. But don’t worry.” He leans down as you squirm, whispering into your ear, “We have time for that.”

“No!” You shout, slapping him away and doing your best to wriggle away. But he’s heavy on top of you, and he’s reaching for his belt, and there’s no way out. No hope. Nothing. “Get the fuck off me, you sick bastard!” 

He slaps you again, lash twice as hard this time, and you taste blood. 

You refuse to let it end like this. You refuse to let him destroy you. You let your body go slack as he unbuckles his belt, reaching out a hand and scrambling for the knife again. It’s under a chair not far from you — you just have to wriggle a little further. 

“It’s sad that you can’t accept that this is how it’s supposed to be. This is God’s will. You and me… we’re the same, underneath. We have the same violent heart,” David is muttering, and there, your fingertips brush the hilt. Determination renewed, you extend yourself again and this time the knife falls into your hand. 

You don’t have time to think; he’s unbuttoning his jeans, and like hell are you going to spend another moment beneath him. You drive the knife straight into his neck, and his eyes bulge as he gurgles on his own blood. As he goes limp, you push him off you — and stab again, again, again, spitting every bit of revenge into your movements as his blood covers his skin and your clothes. 

“You twisted fucker!” you’re yelling, tears rolling down your face as the shock draws in, the disgust. He’d been so close to taking you. So close to making you a victim after so long spent fighting to be a survivor. “Go to fucking hell!” 

You only stop when the fear numbs and you realise he’s no longer moving. Blood soaks both his shirt and yours, and you push yourself off him. His dead, milky eyes stare at you. When you catch a candle guttering in your periphery, you grab it. Crouch with it in your hand. Light him on fire. The flames spread along his clothes, and that’s how you leave him. 

Ashes. Bloodied, dead ashes. 

***

Joel and Ellie have fought their way through a blizzard. He’s surprised he’s still upright, but he saw bodies hanging in the stable and he can’t collapse now. Not for Ellie, and not for you. This community is built on something worse than infected or fascism, and when he found your jacket, your backpack, in that same room as the corpses… 

He can’t see anything but red and white. 

Ellie stops behind him suddenly. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” He catches his breath, looking around. There’s a long building close by, but he hasn’t seen any movement yet. 

A scream rents through the air, and he knows it’s you. His heart picks up, stomach plummeting as he runs around to find the entrance. And there you are, collapsing out of the doorway. 

He says your name as he catches your wrist, and you instantly cower away, screaming. “Please, no! Please, don’t!” 

He’s never heard you beg for anything before, and his world tilts on its axis. What the fuck have they done to you?

“Baby, it’s me!” He draws you close, cupping your jaw with his palms. Your eyes are haunted, face pale, and there’s blood. So much blood. You’re still fighting him, pushing on his chest, and he stumbles back. “It’s me. Look at me. It’s me, darlin’. It’s Joel!”

Your breaths are ragged as realisation finally dawns across your features. “Joel,” you whisper. 

“It’s me,” he says again, eyes filling with tears.

Your gaze moves to Ellie, and only then do you crumple. He catches you just before you fall to your knees, straining against his injury. “Oh, baby. Oh, baby girl,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m here now. I’m here now. You’re okay.”

Sobs wrack through you and he wraps his arms around you, holding on so tight he worries he might hurt you. But you clutch his shoulders just as hard, fingernails digging through his coat. You shake beneath him, and his own tears drip onto his cheeks. He pulls away quickly to look you up and down. Blood streaks through your hair.

“Where are you hurt, baby? Tell me where it hurts.”

You shake your head. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know, Joel. I don’t…”

It’s like you’re not even here with him, and he wants to break. But he has to stay upright for you. He has to be strong for you. He shrugs his coat off quickly and puts it around you, catching sight of your reddened wrists as you adjust the collar. Those bastards tied you up. Hatred drowns him, and he looks at the building you emerged from only to find orange flames flickering in the window. It must have been you, he knows, and he can at least feel proud of you for that, but still, the thought of what they might have done...

“Alright. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He pulls you to his chest, offering his other hand out for Elllie. She takes it, looking shaky as she carries both her bag and yours. 

“They were… They were eating people, Joel,” you say, voice thick and unrecognisable. “I just wanted to get medicine, and they took me. They took me. They were eating people and he was going to… He wanted…” 

“I know,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “I know.”

You stop without warning. “They said they had medicine. You… We have to go back.”

“No, no, hey.” He laces his fingers through yours. “We ain’t going back there for anything.”

“The infection—” you protest.

“Look at me. I’m here. I’m okay. I just needed to rest is all. We don’t need any medicine now. We just need to get you somewhere safe.” His heart pangs. The fact you’ve been through hell and are still willing to go back to help him… sometimes he wishes you weren’t so damn selfless. He should have been the one protecting you today. It’s his fault you’re here. His fault you’re hurt. 

You scrape your hair back and then, looking at your shaky fingers, seem to finally see all the blood. “His blood is in my hair.”

He can at least be relieved it isn’t your own, but the look on your face… he’s never seen so many scars written in one expression. 

“I need to get it out. I need…”

“We’re gonna. We’re gonna help you clean up soon, okay?” He tucks your hair away, lost, because he doesn’t know how to do anything else. Doesn’t know how to make it all go away. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His voice cracks.

Your chest heaves with a stifled sob as you rub your hands and look out towards the lake. “Oh, god.”

Joel closes his eyes, wrought with regret. At his side, Ellie turns her gaze to the floor. It’s his worst fear come true. The reason he’d tried to get Tommy on board with taking Ellie the rest of the way. 

He’d failed again. Was always failing. 

All he can do is hold you close as you fall apart.

[cillivnz]

SEX CHAMBER — THE DIMITRESCU BOYS [HEADCANNONS]

pairings. dimitrescu boys x f!reader [individual and foursome]

warnings. dubcon. nsfw. 18+. double/triple penetration, anal sex & vaginal sex, anal & vaginal fingering, squirting, forced orgasms, biting, mentions of cannibalism, blood-play, vampiric themes, overstimulation, breast-play, oral sex (m! & f!), stockholm syndrome (kinda).

a/n. requested! thank you for this ask, it’s been a common request, and i will be writing fan-fiction for these guys, too, but in different verses, not the preexisting ones!

the dimitrescu boys who adore you— their perfect little whore, so compliant and ready to take cock in whichever hole they choose. your pretty cries and sobs while those monster cocks absolutely obliterate you, showing no mercy to your gummy walls and virgin asshole.

Boian Dimitrescu, oldest of the three, silent and stoic, but determined to rearrange your insides. he hardly made a sound while thrusting into your pussy, only grunting when you’d clench unnecessarily around him, seriously, you’d think you would’ve adjusted to their size after fucking daily— day and night, but the cunt remains tight as ever, partly why the brothers are adamant on having you for breakfast and breaking your back for dinner. his long blonde hair falls over your shoulders when he’s thrusting from behind. complaining about you being a “hostile cunt”, nonetheless fucking every inch of that long, girthy cock into your abused cunt. as the oldest, it’s him that penetrates you first, even if it’s his younger siblings that have repeatedly made you squirt and gush over their tongues prior, but the first cock to enter you will always be Boian’s, it goes without saying. if it’s the next brother, then he’ll only argue with him over you, possessive as ever, taking his agitation out on your gaping hole(s), not giving you any attention while his dick pays you all the heed in the world. he loves spoiling you, wordlessly. if he gives any aftercare, it’s silently pulling your limp body closer to his, letting you use his toned chest as a pillow and sleep.

Cătălin Dimitrescu, middle child, this sadist would fuck you without prepping, and not just your pussy, this son of a bitch would fuck both your holes dry, enjoying the burn (though his cock would be wet enough from the forceful fellatio he’s coaxed out of your plump lips). he enjoyed kills the most, those cannibalistic ventures were the only shenanigans that would bring him as much joy as your cunt does. yeah, they all need blood to survive, but this one treats it like a luxury that only he, and he can afford. he’ll fuck you missionary, to stare at that pretty face contorting in pain and also to watch your cunt squeeze in and out his extreme length. not as girthy as his brother, but definitely on the longer side, punching your cervix is like a walk in the park for him. he’ll bite your neck, the supple flesh above your breasts and leave marks, licking the trickling blood, savouring the ferric tanginess. definitely the most vocal while fucking. doesn’t hide his own moans neither his admiration for how the sole purpose of your existence was to take dick like a champ. “good girl”, “don’t you dare run away from me”, “like that? harder? no? *proceeds to pound into your abused pussy*”. eats pussy like a starving man, “ugh, so thirsty,” whines while enclosing your squirting hole in an open-mouthed kiss. is the first one to get horny and bring his brothers to fuck you. doesn’t actually prep you, but his constant selfish stimulation of your cunt gets you about ready for others. raven hair all shaggy and wet from the amount of times he’s made you squirt on his face.

and Dorin Dimitrescu, the youngest and most delusional of all, because he actually thinks you’ll make a great wife, despite his brothers’ cum residing in every hole of yours in front of him, every day. so what if you’re not just a whore for him? he’s not a good man. he gives you pain just like Cătălin, but he wordlessly looks after your needs like Boian, too. “you’re so mean,” when you refuse to open wide for his cock to be shoved down your throat, or, “good, now harder,” when you’re trying to bounce on his cock while he’s pinching your clit. “i get thirsty, too, understand?” he says, pushing his brother’s face away from your bleeding breasts, trying to make you understand that he is not a sadist like him, but can’t not relish in your taste when you’re laid out so perfectly for him. “try something new?” he was the one who introduced anal, and you don’t know whether to curse him for leaving your hole gaping every night, or make love to him by letting him have his way. you feel chestnut brown hair tickling your back when he kisses your spine, fingering your ass while the tip of his cock prods at your swollen folds.

the dimitrescu boys who’ve hidden you from the eyes of their father, knowing he won’t hesitate to keep something as beautiful as you for his own pleasure the minute he’s aware of your existence.

the dimitrescu boys who’ve locked you away in the dungeons, usually chained in such a position that it’s easy for them to enter, enter you, cum inside you, and leave, while you’re still splayed out for the next brother to come and have his way.

the dimitrescu brothers who’ve provided you with more riches you’ve had as a poor farmer’s daughter, in the warmth of their abode in exchange of them inside your warmth.

the dimitrescu brothers who look forward to the days and nights ahead of them, only because they get to fuck you.

the dimitrescu brothers who’ve impressed their father with their new ability to care and share, credits to you and your body.

the dimitrescu boys who love you, simply because you’re the one one fucked up enough to love them back.

main masterlist. more from ‘resident evil: village’. blog navigatory.

[milflewis]

ok but mob au

1.

“You really didn’t know who I work for?”

When Yuki found out that Pierre’s boss is the Sebastian Vettel, the Lion of Singapore, and the unofficial heir to Schumacher & Co., he had only raised his eyebrows. Pierre took that to mean he had already figured it out.

Yuki blinks at him. “No.”

“But.” Pierre frowns. “Why did you — I always have so many knives on me! Is this not weird to you?” He gestures at his jacket which hangs open, showing four different perfectly sharpened blades tucked into the lining.

Yuki shrugs. “You are French, yes? You like to cut things. Like cheese.”

Pierre mouths wordlessly. Cheese.

“Anyway,” Yuki adds. “You are weird, so. This would not be weird.”

2.

The first time Sebastian meets Lewis, his runners are wet with Michael’s blood and Lewis’s hands are pressing his head into the glass door. His face aches, nose throbbing.

“Can I help you?” he says, or tries to say. It comes out vaguely smushed.

He pushes back a little just to see. Lewis lets him move half an inch before shoving him back.

“Jesus, Hamilton,” Sebastian hears Michael say. His voice cracks roughly. Sebastian nearly cried when the doctor told him Michael survived the surgery, that they got all the bullets out and he was in recovery. He swallows thickly, as the relief makes him all dizzy even now. “I know you got out today but c’mon, let him go. This is Sebastian — I talked about him.”

The hands on Sebastian’s neck disappear and he’s rubbing at his jaw when he turns around. “Ow,” Seabastian tells Michael. His cheeks are pale and his chest is wrapped in white bandages but his eyes are alert and he is grinning.

“Sebastian, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis, Sebastian Vettel. Mika says we are all friends here.”

He pats Mika’s ankle that is propped up on the bed beside his hip. Mika’s eyes stay closed, arms folded in his chair, chin on his chest. There are dark bruises under his eyes under now.

“Right. If Mika says so.”

Lewis steps back towards Michael’s bed, grabbing the duffle bag from where it was leaning against the wall. Sebastian looks at his bare arms, the tattoos that go all the way down to his fingers, the rings there. His jeans sit low on his hips. He needs a shave. Sebastian recognises him from his mugshot, even of his hair is longer now and his face is more lined.

They hadn’t had the time to arrange for Michael to share a cell with someone affiliated with them, and when they had got in contact with him, a week later, he had settled in well enough with his cell mate. By Michael standards at least.

Does not talk much, Michael had told Sebastian over the phone. Likes his fucking singing though. Stares at the picture of his dog. Do you think he is lonely?

When Sebastian had brought it up with Mika, the best person for this kind of thing when Corinna is away, Mika had only shrugged, and told him that he doesn’t think it is just Hamilton that is lonely, and that of fucking course anyone who could survive nine weeks in solitary with just Fernando Alonso as company in the next cell over is someone that Michael would find interesting.

Sebastian looks away from the breadth of Lewis’s shoulders in his white tank and pulls a face at Michael’s waggling eyebrows.

3.

“How old do you think I am?” Jenson asks, as Alex adjusts his long-rifle until it sits comfortably against his shoulder, supported by the flat roof they are lying on. 

Alex doesn’t answer, because he knows exactly how old Jenson is, and the fact that people continue to tell Jenson to his face that he looks ten years older than his actual age will never stop being funny.

“Ollie, how old do you think I am?” Jenson calls.

“Jen, leave the kid alone,” Alex says. “You could dye your hair.”

“Do I look like a man who would dye his hair solely to stave off questions about his age?”

“Yes,” Alex sweeps the street below them, marking the buildings bracketing the shop they are surveilling. “Ollie, how are you doing over there?”

He can hear him scramble around for a second before a burst of static. “Radio ready for orders, sir.”

Alex grimaces, still not used to that, as Jenson only laughs beside him.

4.

“Michael? We got him.” Eddie leans back against the closed door.

Michael hums, closing his leather notebook. He leaves his fountain pen tucked into the middle so he remembers what month of intakes he was going over.

“Send him in.”

The kid’s hair is long and dirty, falling into his eyes and around his ears. His knees are all busted up under his baggy shorts. His face is drawn and thin, and he is glaring at Michael, jaw clenched.

He goes all pale when he sees who sits in front of him. Seems like he didn’t know whose car it was.

“Jesus,” Michael says. “You’re tiny, how did you reach the pedals?”

This morning, the kid — Sebastian Vettel, Michael had asked around — had hot wired Michael’s car in under two minutes and driven away. Michael had watched from the restaurant’s window, amused and impressed.

Mika had been decidedly less so when Michael told him, ten minutes later, that they were going to have to order a cab.

“I’m not that short!” The glare intensifies. His eyes are kind of freaky, Michael thinks. Very big and bright.

Michael holds out a hand, level with his chest, and squints. He lowers it considerably. Sebastian looks like he wants to bite it.

“Of course not,” Michael tells him soothingly. Eddie gives him a reproachful look. Michael holds back his eyeroll but takes his hand out of reach of Sebastian’s mouth.

“I have a job for you,” Michael says, watching Sebastian’s eyes sharpen. He smiles thinly. “If you’re up for it.”

“A job. For me? What kind of job?” Sebastian tilts his head to the side, making his eyes wide. His curls tumble across his forehead. The whole effect is rather sweet, Michael considers, delighted. This will be interesting.

Mika has been nagging at Michael to stop picking up strays but he thinks he will agree with Michael on this one.

5.

Michael stretches out his back, legs interlocked at the ankles, until something clicks along his spine. He exhales slowly, sinking back into the shitty mattress.

They called for lights out fifteen minutes ago. Lewis is still in the bunk above him. Michael looks at the scratches across the metal rods. He had a good workout today, no interruptions, and his arms are nicely sore.

Seventeen minutes.

Lewis moves in his bed, rolling over to the right and for a moment, Michael thinks he will roll right off the edge, but then he is swinging down, silent. Michael holds himself very still.

"I am not interested in fucking."

"Yeah," Lewis says. "I heard."

Michael swallows. The sharpened edge of Lewis's plastic spoon presses into his throat. Lewis is dense and solidly heavy, knees on either side of his hips, one foot digging into his knee.

Michael has seen him fight. In an enclosed space like this, and unarmed, he isn't sure who would come out the better. His fingers itch with excitement.

"I found the picture you left," Lewis says quietly. The spoon doesn't move an inch. His eyes gleam in the dark like an animal.

"Okay," Michael says, not bothering to pretend not to know what he is talking about.

Lewis was fine this morning. He hummed to himself the entire way to breakfast, and he spotted Michael in the gym without even being asked. It wasn't until after dinner that he went all weird and still in himself.

Lewis presses down, just a little. Michael raises an eyebrow.

"Is he alive?" Lewis asks like he doesn't want to show his hand but is doing so anyway. His mouth trembles at the corners. Michael frowns at him. He has seen Lewis hustle in the yard at card games enough times to know that his poker face is better than this.

"Is he."

Oh. Jesus.

Michael laughs. It is too loud of a sound for where they are. He laughs anyway.

"You have issues," he tells Lewis, who only sends him a cutting look.

"That was supposed to make you feel better! Stop crying and all. You miss him, yes? Thought I could help."

Lewis stares at him. Blinks those animal eyes.

Michael makes a frustrated sound in the back of his mouth. He misses Mika. He never has to talk when Mika is around.

"He is being taken care of in that shelter you put him in. I had my people check. I was being nice! Friendly too!"

"We're friends," Lewis says slowly as if he expects Michael to say no.

"Obviously. You are being ridiculous," Michael says. "You think I would kill a dog? No!" He is a little hurt.

"You are the chief suspect in fifteen open murders," Lewis says, flat.

"Not of dogs!"

Lewis looks at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. "How are you still alive, man? For real? I thought it was a threat."

He pushes off Michael and pulls himself up onto the top bunk, as silent as he climbed down at the start.

"No one else would see this as a bad thing."

He can hear Lewis roll his eyes.

"Literally every other person here would think you were sending a message. And not a good one."

"I was being nice!"

There is a clang of metal against metal, and their cell bars rattle. "Oi! You two! Shut the fuck up. Save the fighting or fucking for the morning."

"Gross, man," Lewis says, and Michael kicks at the underside of his bunk. "You are gross."

Maybe Mika was right when he said that Lewis might not take his generosity in the way he wanted it, Michael considers. He decides not to tell him. He would be too smug if he did.

He palms the sharpened spoon that Lewis had held to his neck and left on his pillow, beside his cheek. It is small and narrow. Michael presses his thumb against the slice, feeling it. He smiles, and tucks it under his sheet. He had needed a new one.

+1.

Sebastian had been small when Michael met him. All eyes and bony knees and dirty hair.

Then he opened up his mouth and his personality crawled out.

Michael has never looked back.

[graceofagodswrath]

Omg your Humans are space orcs/deathworlders + Transformers is just *d e l i c i o u s*. My complaints are pretty much the same, it seems that most humans on the franchise are just manufactured to be hated or simply annoying for being so useless. I want transformers to realize just how hard we have to work to simply stay alive *in our own planet*, with the sheer amount of diseases and poisonous animals and predators and weather and so much more, I want them to wonder how such seemingly fragile beings became the dominant species, how can we be so resilient yet so delicate... I'd like a transformer that particularly hates/is disgusted by humans to swap places with us for like a day or so, the first one that comes to mind is Starscream, I want him to get a glimpse at the daily fight for survival here on Earth and can't help but develop a tiny speck of respect for humans, not that he would ever admit it, even to himself, that he's secretly more mindful of where he steps when there are humans around ever since.

I literally just gave a rundown about this to a friend in a drunken rant the other night, so I am so ready for this.

Starscream wouldn’t be my first pick, based solely on the fact that I haven’t psycho-analyzed him the same way I have others, but imma do my best ~

For situation-sake so my writer brain doesn’t kill itself over context, imma do this in the form of Headcannons. Let’s say Starscream gets stuck in a human body and has to exist as such until he magically gets put back. Until then, he’s stuck with a human who is aware of what he is (vague gn oc/reader, up to whoever. Writing from the viewpoint of “one of us”).

(Also y’all can input any Starscream here cause imma write him in his basic form: whiney, stuck-up, clever little cunt).

- Bro is flabbergasted. Disgusted. Horrified. Out-of-his-mind losing it. Keeps praying to primus it’s a drug-induced hallucination or a dream.

- Wakes up on the soft cushions of a… couch? The word pops up in his head. He knew the basics from his overviews when their war traveled to earth. He brought his servos- No. Hands, up to his face, inspected his new honey, fleshy digits. The detail was too vivid to be a hallucination. Colors were both muted and bright. Starscream found himself automatically trying to adjust his optic intake. But nothing happened. Of course. Because fleshy organics can’t manually adjust their own sensory inputs.

- He curls his lips, and is instantly hit with the feeling of muscle contorting. Skin and flesh was an entirely different sensation from mesh and plating. It made his plating- damnit no, skin crawl. Another sensation trailed up the center of his back, spine and shiver popping up in his mind.

- Even the way his psyche worked was different. Like a new plane of existence. Thoughts were unorganized, uncalculated. Like something that squirmed out of his grasp as he tried to keep hold. Everything felt simplified, yet the awareness and sensations were overwhelming. His entire presence felt… hypocritical.

- Sounds distracted him from his insightful, yet horrific reverie. His gaze drifted to another area of the room, half-built walls sectioning it off, but with flat slabs atop. Counters. A face pops from behind the half-wall. Human eyes catch his, and the creature pulls its lips back to bare its teeth. To smile. Even though humans and cybertronians had similar facial anatomy, the little creatures were so ugly that it was hard to recognize similar expressions.

- “You good bud?” The thing asks. Starscream felt his new face twist into his casual sneer, one laced with aggravation and disgust.

- “Good? Is such a thing possible when you’re a skin bag of flesh and bones?” The humans only response was to broaden their grin.

-“Glad you haven’t lost the attitude. Means you’ll make it out alive.” The nonchalance threw the ex-cybertronian for a loop.

- “You… know me?” That grin turned into a smirk that made the non-energon in his lines boil.

- “You’re Starscream, second-in-command to Megatron, lord of the deceptions, yada yada yada… yeah I know who you are.” They leaned back against the wall, eyes boring into the deception. Starscream found himself wondering if human eyes were always so disturbingly piercing.

- “Wonderful.” He shoved the unsettled feeling to the back of his head, determined to figure out a solution and still be in control. “Then you can explain how and why I am in this disgusting organic form.”

- The smirk disappeared into an odd expression Starscream had never seen before. The human flattened their lips and pursed their… cheeks. It looked entirely stupid. But something in the back of his head whispered apologetic.

- “I’m not sure on the exact details, but I can tell you it won’t last long. I’m basically your caretaker until it wears off.”

- Instinctually, Starscream’s brows raised. “That’s it? Is this some new human weapon, cruel imprisonment within one your fleshy bodies?”

- The human tilted their head back and laughed, once again taking Starscream off guard. Their casual presence was so different from the fight-or-die everyday lifestyle that gripped his species.

- “Nope. Just a random accident that you’re the unfortunate victim of.” At the con’s bewildered stare, the human pushed their mouth outwards, changing the pitch of their voice as they said, “aww, poor baby. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.” Then they whirled around and walked into the other room.

- Man is flabbergasted. Is out of his element and cannot function. Cue him trying to stand and do normal things, and bust his ass because the different sensations hitting him all at once. Organic nervous systems feel very different from techno ones.

- First thing he starts doing is eating and drinking. It takes a couple hours, but his “babysitter” eventually gets him to try something. Water first, of course (he refused any organic foods). The con is disgusted, but moderately pleased that the tasteless liquid isn’t slimy or thicker like he expected. It’s actually rather soothing to his human body.

- The first food he willingly tries is melon. Honeydew to be precise. Refused to touch meat, as the idea of eating actual organic flesh was unfathomable. He was pleasantly surprised to find the flavor of the fruit likable. Humans don’t taste things the same way cybertronians do. Whereas energon has a more electrical charge to it (to put it in human words), Earth flavors were smoother. Discovers he has a huge sweet tooth (as his “babysitter” put it).

- His human guardian took this opportunity to drag him out of their home and go shopping for more consumables. Let him pick things he found somewhat pleasing, but chose most others. Lots of fruit to try and other non-meats. Went in to try the other types of fruit. Has a preference for honeydew, strawberries, cantaloupe, watermelon, and grapes. Really likes (loves but won’t admit) pineapple and raspberries. The sour/sweetness is similar to energon. Citruses like oranges and mandarin are also similar, but he prefers more sweetness than straight sour. Kiwi is also a treat.

- (I headcannon that energon is similar to sour patch kids and skittles, super sweet and sour with an electric tang and texture. So all transformers would be immediate sweet lovers as humans because of the similarity).

- Hates anything dull or flavorless. Don’t try to feed this man spinach, he’ll call you grass-eating fleshbag.

- Drinks water only because he has too (stupid human body), but once he discovers those liquid flavors he can put in, it’s all he uses. Tried juices when he found out they were liquids derived from the fruit he likes. Got excited when it tasted almost like energon and tried to only consume juice from then on. His guardian explained that humans couldn’t only exist on juice, but of course he tried to argue that all he needed was nutrients in liquid. He then discovered smoothies. Nearly did the same thing until he actually tried them. Hated the thickness and gritty texture.

- A couple days go by and his guardian decides it’s time to get him tf out properly. Man is lounging around all the time. If he’s not on the couch making fun of human entertainment and politics, he’s following his guardian meatbag around and demanding answers for his current predicament.

- So his guardian starts small. Hauls his ass outside for a jog. This is where things really get interesting. Starscream is unaware of how human bodies work. When his guardian begins a slow run, he gets confused. Why would you run when you can walk fine? Where were they going? Leads to an explaination of exercise, which results in the con doing his usual snide shit of “you force yourselves to go through training otherwise your bodies become slow and unusable? How unsurprising.” And they’re like “yes and nooo, it’s so we can stay strong and get stronger as time goes on. Staying strong allows us to do cool things.”

- Cool things like what? Well his guardian gets an evil idea in their head. Starscream hates running. Hates using his legs and having nothing to do with his arms. Don’t even get them started on the tantrum he threw when he started sweating (fluids exiting one’s body? Horrifying).

- So his guardian introduces him to swimming. The con is a jet in his natural form, and the closest he’ll get to that as a human without a shit ton of equipment will be the water.

- Problem is the man has to learn to swim first. And willingly get in the water. Stays on the edge of the lap pool the first few times, watching with his nose turned up at the humans swimming.

- However, he starts to slowly dip his toes in the water. The sensation is… interesting. It’s not dislikable on human skin. In fact, on the hotter days it’s very soothing, like when he drinks water (finds out he can’t drink this kind tho, chemicals and bodies in it and such).

- Eventually he gets in, staying in the shallow area. His guardian helps him learn how to swim. It feels humiliating, learning to kick and tread water, while watching human children do it with relative ease. It feels strange to use his body in such ways. But with his guardian constantly reminding that none of his cybertronian peers knew or will know of his situation, AND their constant praise, he finds it in himself to continue.

- The praise he receives from his guardian is also something he’s not used to. As well as other humans willing to help him learn. It apparently wasn’t uncommon for many adult humans to not know how to swim or do other things, and gave him more confidence to learn. He’d never admit it, but he tried harder to learn just to hear the praise from others. It felt nice to be treated kindly. Better than nice. But again, he’d never admit it. He’d just respond with a clever quip. Never did anyone hear a thanks (but most quickly figured out he was grateful from the obvious burning red on his copper-toned neck and ears).

- Weeks drag on, and to distract himself from the impatience of going back to his normal, Starscream becomes an excellent swimmer. He finds it is like flying, the way the water holds up his body. When he holds his breath and dips under the surface, he can almost imagine his rocket boosters on his pedestal holding him aloft in the sky.

- From the work it took, he gained a slight appreciated for how his human body worked. At first he thought it was a hindrance. But as he worked with the others, he began to have an understanding that unsettled the cybertronian part of him.

- Humans were incredibly versatile. After he began to improve greatly at swimming, he asked about other activities humans did for exercise. The resulted in learning that humans didn’t always “exercise” to become strong. Many did it for fun. It was a hobby to them, and the exercise was a great benefit. It kept their minds clear, it kept their bodies healthy, and it satisfies a part of them that he was only beginning to discover.

- Starscream was aware of human creativity. It’s what had made their species a slight hindrance when they aided the autobots in the war, but because of their size, they were seen as nothing but bugs. Pests at the most. But as the con experienced this small bit of human life, he began to understand there was more to them than he’d like to admit. There was this drive to do things, to push themselves beyond their current capabilities.

- He learned of skills that human no longer needed but still learned to take pride in for fun. Swimming was only a base skill. There were humans that attempted to swim across the oceans just to see if they could, even with the high chance of death. Beyond swimming, there was running across land for days on end, jumping off cliffs and diving in spectacular ways, gliding across the sky’s on flimsy metal pipes and fabric, and so much more. Their adaptability to any environment was envious.

- It nearly terrified him, the thought of what if humans were the same size as cybertronians. What if they could acutally measure up to other species of their universe? They could do anything. They would be a real threat. Or the greatest ally any race could ask for.

- His lid has been flipped.

- Eventually he wakes up back in his habsuite in his normal body. The euphoria that rushes through him at the familiarity his nothing he’s ever experienced before. Checking his info screens, he discovers no time passed. As if he had dreamed all of it. But when he looks to his desk in the room, he sees it.

- Starscream picks the item up, inspecting it, and feels his spark skip a pulse. It’s a small ring and chain, attached to two metal objects. Both in the shape and color of a pineapple and raspberry.

[lakesbian]

alec's specific brand of trauma is Really Something because it's like. having a father who only interacted with him to scare the piss out of him for any perceived slight and/or with the explicit intent of psychologically breaking him: pretty bad. being groomed into hypersexuality & child prostituted: also pretty bad for his mental wellbeing. but being forced to torture and/or murder people, being coerced into a state where he's capable of unflinchingly raping people before he's thirteen--being groomed into becoming his father--is like. a Very Specific Level Of Issue. systematic stripping of not only physical and sexual autonomy but ethical autonomy, being turned into nothing but an extension of the violence enacted by the person he hates most. full ownership over his body and mind.

like, when you're 12 and shooting someone because daddy said if you don't he's going to shoot you, you do the action first, you alter your mind to be Okay With It afterwards--because if you're not okay with it you're going to break--and then there's nothing of you left because it's all been taken away or changed so you could survive. just sort of utter nothing-matters nihilism by age 13 because he wasn't allowed to have anything for himself, not even the most basic moral compass, not even the ability to walk away and tell anyone about what happened to him without being seen as rotten himself, an abuser first and a victim second. no one will ever talk about what happened to alec without the caveat of "but." the caveat of "he was just a kid, but he still..." he doesn't get to show himself to anyone without the awareness that he's going to be seen as some form of fundamentally bad just by virtue of being a vasil, of having done the things that vasils do.

literally no wonder one of the only times he's ever even remotely visibly upset by something is when taylor--literally one of the only people he has in life, part of the closest thing he has to a family--insinuates he might want to turn out like his father, when the most core aspect of his trauma is not what was done to him but what he was turned into. if there's one thing that can upset him, it's the idea that he's still seen as that 13yo kid who was more of heartbreaker's weapon than he was a person, or that he's seen as wanting to be that way. he spends the first 13 years of his life having any attempt at establishing any form of his own identity razed down before it can even begin--as of story start, he's had all of 2 1/2 years to become his own person, because everything before that belonged solely to his father. so he is sort of ridiculously well-adjusted given the circumstances. but awful by any other metric--and there's the caveat, of course, the But, because the ability to make decisions that don't result in people saying But was very intentionally taken from him.

and when he does finally find something (someone) to care about, when he reclaims the ability to have his own strong emotions and desires and moral compass, he cares about it so much he dies for it. he's been waiting his entire life to have something he's allowed to care about and when he finally gets it, when he finally has that autonomy, he chooses to do the most unselfish possible thing with it. it's a single moment of refutation against everything he was molded to be--everything he still doesn't know how not to be, sometimes--where he realizes that, fuck it, he just wants to do something good for what he cares about. wants it more than he wants anything else on the planet, more than a million dollars or any amount of fame. he's finally in control of his body and his mind and his feelings, after 13 years of being a marionette and 2 years of slowly learning how to cut off the strings, and he decides that what he wants, now that what he wants actually matters, is to give all of himself to doing something good because he cares. in the end, he finally got to define himself by what he wanted to be instead of what he was made to be, and what he wanted to be was a good friend.

it's a good character arc okay. i like it.

[airbendertendou]

WANNA SEE YOU SHINE! ♥︎ suzaki ryo

synopsis : purge au , ryo isn't quite how you remember him to be. but, he's always kind to you. this was highly inspired by @seijorhi 's tokyo revengers piece!

content warning : a purge au so this is a darker one , murder , gore , gross comments , unwanted gestures / comments , reader is in horrible company , Peach is a made-up character , inevitable death [not related to the reader] , kinda yandere-ish ,

song inspo ; stargirl interlude by the weeknd ft lana del rey

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked. Keep reading

Sweat drips down your forehead as you reshelve the food you’d been asked to. Taking a deep breath, you peek at the clock — only three more hours until closing. You closed early today, of course. 

When the clock struck seven today, the world would no longer be safe.

The door opens with a ding, causing you to stop what you were doing and welcome the customer in. It was a group, all casually chatting while looking for snacks. You stand straight and prepare to greet them — your voice catches in your throat. Something about the last person seems so familiar ; so welcoming to you.

A girl with orange hair spots you and turns your way. “You work here, right?” You nod, peeling your eyes away from the red coat and shoulder length hair. She grins, “great! Can you guide me to the chocolate aisle?”

At her words, the rest of the group turns to face you. You lead the way, showing her your preferred sweets and answering questions with a practiced smile. The group disperses, leaving to do their own thing. That comforting, familiar face is standing in front of you now, waiting for your attention to be solely on him.

“Suzaki,” you say. “Suzaki Ryo. You’re back.”

His dull, unchanging face contorts into a soft smile at your words. Eyes travel down your tired, overworked form — you adjust and clear your throat in embarrassment. His smile falls, “are you alright, [name]?”

Words leave your mind at the sound of his voice. It’d been so long — so many years had passed since you last heard his voice. He calls your name once more, eyes drooping into a worried gaze. You shift on your feet, “um, I’m okay. Everyone’s preparing for tonight, you know?”

“Tonight?” Ryo tilts his head before nodding slowly. “The Purge they call it, right?” You nod, fingers intertwining and locking your mind onto something else. He smiles at your habit, remembering the times before when you’d act that way, too. “You’ll be safe tonight, won’t you?”

“I’ll be with Peach,” you admit. Your nose crinkles in distaste before you smooth your face out, plastering on your customer service smile instead. “I think we’re staying with Amagi this year. You still talk, right? You’ll be there?”

Ryo’s eyes narrow at the names. Peach — your old friend who would always take advantage of you. Amagi — his old friend who used him tirelessly. They were quite the match ; Suzaki’s beyond surprised it took them this long to get together. “Sure,” he hides his thoughts with a smile, “I’ll be there.”

Your conversation is interrupted by his group as they push their way between you. One guy with blue highlights shoves you to the side thoughtlessly — you don’t see the glare Ryo sends his way. Clearing your throat again, you lead them to the register to check them out. 

Ryo lingers outside as his friends leave, his eyes watching as you get back to work quickly. Calloused, blistered hands scrub at the counter endlessly before you’re quickly sweeping the floor. You go to clean the window when you meet his gaze — Ryo only waves before turning to leave.

Poor thing, he thinks to himself. You’re working yourself to the bone just to survive. Not anymore, he reassures himself. You won’t have to tire yourself out anymore. I’ll take care of you.

——♥︎——

Shoveling pieces of clothing into your overnight bag, you think back to earlier, when Ryo walked into the convenience store. Seeing him again was strange ; exciting and overwhelming at the same time. Last you heard, Ryo and his dad moved overseas for better opportunities. 

That wasn’t true. His father worked himself to death, so Ryo ran. It was no coincidence he popped back up on Purge day. 

You knew Amagi and Peach would have all anyone would need in their mansion. However, the thought of using their things and therefore owing them— it made you nauseous. 

Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepare yourself. You’d be surrounded by rich, entitled assholes for twelve ongoing hours while trusting their security system would keep you safe. At one point, they would irritate you so bad that you’d want to take your chance with the streets. 

Suzaki will be there, you remind yourself. If Suzaki is there, I won’t be alone.

——♥︎——

The Amagi mansion greets you, hiding in the woods just out of reach of the street. Cars are empty from the road, hidden in garages and who knows where else for the upcoming night. It’s almost seven, so you need to rush ; need to hurry inside before the door is locked for good. Peach’s laughter echoes onto the street — you grimace and force yourself to step inside. 

“COMMENCING THE SIREN, ANY AND ALL CRIME, INCLUDING MURDER, WILL BE LEGAL FOR TWELVE CONTINUOUS HOURS.”

Sirens hit the empty street, the world pausing as people prepare for the worst. You swallow, ignoring the champagne that was offered to you. Even with laws intact, you’d refuse any drink coming from this group. 

“How dull,” a voice interrupts the silence. Amagi leans forward on his lavish sofa, watching the wall of monitors he had installed. “No one’s screaming yet. Did they not hear the announcement?”

Another reason you didn’t want to stay here — the Purge was used for their own amusement. While the group you were in would never dare to participate — they wouldn’t survive — watching others slaughter each other was their monthly entertainment. 

Peach sighs, “the hour just started, honey. It might take a while.” She rubs his shoulder, leaning her lips close to her ear to whisper to him. You can see her tongue peak out and lap against his ear — you hold back the urge to gag and look away in disgust.

Ryo is absent from the house — he’s not coming, you discover. He hadn’t shown up at all ; no one mentioned him coming by. It makes you uncomfortable ; makes your throat itch at the thought of them possibly leaving him on the streets to die.

You glance at Amagi’s sleazy grin as Peach rubs the inside of his thigh. “I saw Suzaki today. Did you know he was back?”

“That loser really came back?” Amagi all but shoves Peach away, murky eyes staring into yours. A snarl curls his lips as they tremble — with laughter or anger, you don’t know. “Pathetic. Thought he’d die off by now.”

You always wondered what happened between them. Up until high school, Ryo would follow Amagi endlessly. And then, one day, he was gone. Amagi would only spit out how much he hated the boy ; how he wished a miserable and lifeless future for his former friend. He never told Peach — even with the endless nights between them both.

Back then, Ryo came to say goodbye to you. He looked exhausted, bags puffed under his eyes and his nails chewed down to the cuticle. A gash was wrapped around his wrist — you cleaned it as his puppy eyes stared at you.

“You’re leaving.”

“I need to,” Ryo says. His voice is soft ; throaty as if he’d been screaming for hours. He closes his hand into a fist, flexing and moving his fingers to see how injured his wrist was. His gaze meets yours, “I’ll be back.”

One of Peach’s friends offers you a drink, bringing you back to reality again. You take it, just so they would stop shoving it your way. You wouldn’t take even a tiny sip, instead pouring small amounts into someone else’s glass.  

Amagi’s gaze is still on you — you can feel his eyes burning into your skin as Peach tries to distract him. You watch a monitor mindlessly, sweeping across the silent and desolate street. Sighing, you tuck your chin into the palm of your hand.

You’d love to do anything else ; to be anywhere else. 

“You look tense, [name].” Amagi speaks up. His tone is intense, cruel intentions crawling from darkened eyes. He grins, ignoring the kisses that Peach settles on his neck. “Want someone to help you relax? You can have more than one, if you want.”

At his words, his friends cheer joyfully. One starts thrusting into the air, hooting with laughter. Another winks your way as she lowers her shirt to further show her cleavage. Your arm is tugged harshly to the right, your back hitting the couch as the back of your shirt is grabbed. Peach watches on boredly — your friend wouldn’t dare speak up against her fiance.  

It wouldn’t matter if you said no. Especially not tonight, but not any other night, either. 

Movement on a top monitor catches your attention. A figure is stumbling, almost to a crawl as they enter the street. You squint, moving from the unwanted touches and closer to the screen. Your mouth falls into a gasp, “Ryo?”

The red jacket on his shoulders is bright in the streetlights, beckoning any attacker to come closer. He leaves a trail of darkened splotches behind on the concrete, a puddle forming where he collapses. Amagi sits up at the name, inching closer to the screen. Pressing a button or two, he maximizes the video Ryo stars in. A malicious, evil grin spreads onto his face.

“Finally,” Amagi laughs, “he’ll die like the dog he is. In the streets, covered in his own shit.”

You gulp at his words. Amagi wasn’t going to offer refuge ; he wasn’t going to allow Ryo into his home and keep him safe. Your gaze bounces to Peach — she’s dropped to her knees in front of him, begging for his attention. He just watches the screen giddily. 

The people around you wouldn’t help, either. They wouldn’t dare to go against Amagi’s orders — not for a flea like Suzaki Ryo. Not for his childhood friend that left. Someone is still vying for your affections, the type Amagi offered for you, as they rub themselves on you. 

You take in a deep breath, focusing on the screen where Ryo lays on the street. The room goes silent, your ears ringing as you watch him writhe in pain. Everything vanishes — you could do something. You could save him. He promised to come back, and he did. 

Sound comes back in a rush, laughter and moans heating up the room around you. 

Quickly, you stand and leave the couch — you leave the room and hear no complaints for your actions. Your shoes are taken off and placed to the side — your footsteps would be silent, and no one would be able to find you now. Hastened steps patter their way to the front door ; up from the safe room in the basement, past Amagi’s self portrait, to the right of the kitchen. Shaky hands unlock the front door as fast as they can.

Cold air whips into your face. You breathe in the freshness of it ; you bask in the sound of crickets and the absence of sound. You look around warily — there’s no one around except a whimpering, wounded Suzaki Ryo.  

“Come on,” you call to him quietly. You sling his arm around your shoulder and assist him to hobble into the house. Right on the threshold, you can see Amagi snarling as he rushes the door to close and lock. To no avail — you pull Ryo in with you just in time. You set him against a wall, right under the window. “Made it.”

“What the fuck,” Peach hisses. She stands in front of her friends — the richer ones, the ones she deemed valuable — shielding them from the man you brought in. “Do you realize what you just did? Why did you bring in a flea?”

“It’s Suzaki,” you breathe, “we know him.”

Amagi stands over his former friend, staring down at him emotionlessly. His face is devoid of anything — even the usual hatred he doesn’t hide. He tilts his head, “what a pity. Would’ve been nice to watch someone slit his throat.”

They all leave without another word, sending glares your way. The basement’s safe room is locked ; they make it known that you’ve been locked out and uninvited. 

Suzaki wheezes out from the floor, “sorry. Didn’t mean to mess things up for you.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” You crouch to help him stand, guiding to one of the bathrooms in the house. Settling him on the closed toilet lid carefully, you take in a breath. “Let’s get you cleaned up and brand new, hm?”

Delicately, you take Ryo’s shirt off ; pull his tanktop up and over his head, careful to not disturb the gash across his torso. He stares at you, eyes sparkling and wide as you grab peroxide and antibacterial gel.

“It’s not too deep,” you speak up. You can hear the group below, their insults and joy vibrating against the walls. “No stitches needed. Good thing — I can’t sew.”

A smile lifts up the right side of Ryo’s mouth. You clean his wound gently, a soaked cotton ball swiping any germ or blobs of blood away. As you apply the gel, your tongue pokes out slightly. Ryo watches you fondly, “this reminds me of when we were in school.”

You smirk, “what, when I’d save your ass a trip to the hospital?”

He laughs — you try not to watch his chest as he does. Grabbing gauze, you wrap it around his torso a few times ; not too tight, but not too loose. Ryo’s eyes stay on you as you move. “You would always take care of me. Even when your friends were worse than mine.”

“We’d look out for each other.” You correct him. You shuffle his tank top back down his body, sitting in silence as you avoid his gaze. “That’s what people like us do.”

Ryo slumps in his seat, his voice growing quiet. “People like us?”

You smile, but it isn’t warm or happy. It’s accepting — sad and empty. “People who have to work to survive.”

A rattle shakes the house — you and Ryo simply stare at each other before you make a move. Peach is coming up the stairs as you exit the bathroom, your face mirroring the confusion on hers. Another rattle — the front door is shaking.

“Yoo-hoo!” A voice sings teasingly. Ryo makes his way to you, his jacket slung precariously over his shoulders as he holds his torso with his right arm. Amagi is spitting orders in the basement — he sounds terrified. “We know you’re in there. Come out and play.”

Silence. And then, a bang against the front door as a new voice calls out. “Come outside, rich bitch!”

Tensely, you reach behind you and grab Suzaki’s hand. Stomping is heard on the stairs as Amagi guides his friends to the front door. His eyes are on fire as you pass by him, red-tinted and furious. He glares at the man behind you, “this better not have anything to do with you.”

You let out a breath as you push Ryo to the safe room, eyes dancing from screen to screen. A face pops out of nowhere — one covered in a Ghostface mask. You jump, bumping into Ryo as you do. You look at him from over your shoulder, “they didn’t attack you, did they?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I wasn’t attacked by anyone. I was… trying to get between an unfair fight.”

You smile despite the situation. “Playing the hero as always.”

“People need to be protected,” he replies simply. Ryo walks over to the wall of monitors, clicking and scrolling expertly. Though, growing up with Amagi probably taught him everything he needed to know. More people are found around the Amagi mansion, waiting for a door to unlock. Ryo’s voice carries into the air, “people like you.”

You blink, “like me?”

Ryo’s mouth tilts as he looks down at the monitors’ control center. He lets out a laugh through his nose before his eyes meet yours. “People who are soft ; kind.” Ryo looks down again, “you’re the one I want to protect the most. You were always my favorite, you know.”

A bang hits the house once more, Peach’s scream echoing with it. You can hear one of her friends insist they just go outside and start shooting — they should just get rid of the strangers while they can. A flurry of footsteps rebounds against the stairs, hurriedly burrowing your way. Ryo takes you into his arms quickly, moving you both out of the way.

“I’ll show them,” he mutters. It’s one of Amagi’s friends — one who tried to get you alone. His eyes are frantic, spit piling at the corner of his mouth as he speaks to himself. “I’ll go out there and tear them all down. Amagi will notice me, then.”

The house’s defenses are down before you can stop him.

Amagi flies down the stairs, trying frantically to get the security systems back up. He clicks every button he sees. The house goes silent as the walls whir, the defenses going back into place. It has to be enough, you bite your lip, hand intertwined with Ryo’s as you tighten your hold. Please, let us be safe. 

A window upstairs shatters, high-pitched screaming mirroring the sound. 

The sound of scraping is the first thing you pick up. The safe room’s door is closed and locked tight, ensuring your safety. You don’t feel safe, though. Everyone watches in silence as the door’s handle twists left then right. You gulp, hiding the shaking of your hand by holding tighter onto Suzaki’s. 

 A bang hits the door, causing everyone to jump in unison. A harrowing, mean cackle breaths against the door. “I know you’re in there,” they call, “let us in so we can play.”

“Fuck off!” Amagi’s friend calls out arrogantly. Amagi rushes to the man, holding his hand against his mouth tightly. There are tears in the bully’s eyes — he has no chance if the safe room is breached. His friend fights him until he’s free to speak, “we’ll kill you be—!”

A body falls to the floor. A girl with lilac hair trembles, champagne falling down her arm as the bottle she holds is in half. The man on the floor bleeds from his head — you don’t think he’ll make it. She drops the half-empty bottle, scurrying to wipe the alcohol off of her person. 

The masked person outside cackles again, “attacking each other now? Let us join in, won’t you?”

Ryo’s thumb rubs against your knuckles and it’s all you can think of. He does well ; distracting you from the dire danger in front of you. But, you can’t help but also think he’s so calm ; so collected and uncaring at the threats that surround you.

Scratching is heard, the door jolting from the impact. The person outside cackles, drops of sweat fall from Amagi’s forehead. A thump against the door again — you think it’s coming off its hinges. Ryo’s shoulder bumps into yours as you back up, the sound of the door breaking disturbing the silence around you. The splintered pieces hit the floor, collecting around two pairs of boots. 

A bloody, rabbit mask and orange hair greets you — another one a Jason-inspired mask doing little to hide blue hair. The rabbit giggles, swinging the axe in hand, “you’ll play with us now, right?”

Two more figures join them but your mind is so fogged from the panic. Ryo is speaking lowly in your ear, but you can’t make sense of anything he says. The girl from before is thrown to the floor, a doll-like mask hovering above her as she’s stabbed. The Jason mask creeps closer to you — he’s got you in his sights and he’s completely locked in.

A kick his sent to the masked man’s chest, sending him flying away as Ryo stands in front of you. He grabs a cheese knife from the center table, putting it in your hand. Your back is to the wall, allowing you to see every inch of the safe room.

Blood splatters as Ryo nails punch after punch onto the blue haired stranger. It’s a sickening, intense anger you’d never seen from him before. Your hands shake as you hold tightly onto the cheese knife, unable to look away from the violence in front of you. Ryo looks over his shoulder at you, blood on his forehead and nose as he stands.

The wound on his torso seems to no longer bother him.

Ryo is quick to pull you to a room, closing the door behind you both as you hold your breath. It’s a bathroom, you see, perfectly compact and hidden. Chaos reigns outside — you flinch as you identify Peach’s cries. A shaky hand cups your cheek, blood smearing as he rubs your skin soothingly. “Stay here,” Ryo pleads,”I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

He strokes your cheek one last time before a glass is shoved in your hand. “Sip on this until I come back.” Ryo holds your hand, gaze fierce and promising, “I will come back, [name]. Stay in here.”

The door is shut and you’re left with the muffled sound of the people you were with being murdered. The handle of the knife you hold is embedded into your skin, the intricate design imprinted onto your palm. Heaving breaths escaped your chest and you know you need to calm down or you’ll pass out.

You eye the water you’re holding, champagne taste staining the flute you sip on. Panic has really set in now, the room around you blurring together into nothing but colors. Trembling legs settle onto the floor, your back to the bathtub as your eyes slide shut.

——♥︎——

“[Name],” is called lightly, a rustle on your shoulder shaking you. “C’mon, angel, it’s time to go.”

Your eyes blink open — they’re heavy, bleary as your eyesight still has to settle. You breathe deeply through your nose — it smells like iron and sweat. An alarm rings, commencing the Purge and thanking everyone for participating.

Your eyes snap back open at the words. You weren’t safe ; the security was fought through and intruders welcomed themselves in. Ryo — Ryo went out to fight. And then, nothing. You fell asleep?

The floor beneath you is wet, your fingers pruning up from the water. Another gentle jostle to your shoulder — someone was here with you. Widened, unseeing eyes blink up at him and he coos.

“[Name],” Ryo calls again. He rubs your cheek lovingly as your eyes flutter shut once more. He sighs — it was too much on your body, after all. Slowly, he wraps your legs around his waist, standing easily and taking you with him as he goes. “Keep your eyes closed, honey. You don’t need to see this.”

Suzaki speaks to someone else as your eyes flutter open and closed periodically. You can’t stay awake — what was in that water? Your mouth moves against his neck, incomprehensible mutters and noises leaving your lips. You hear him kick something on the way out and spit out something you don’t hear.

As you leave, you notice the bloody mess is wearing Amagi’s clothes.

“Welcome back.”

You feel better now ; awake and attentive as your eyes slide open. The sun is in the middle of the sky, warming up the room you’re in. Suzaki sits on the edge of the bed you’re in, clean and grinning as he rubs your legs soothingly. “About time you woke up, huh?”

The last few hours come back to you in a movie-like sequence. The screaming, the door shattering, the blood. You gulp, “what… happened? At Amagi’s?”

Ryo let’s out a sigh, shaking his head. He squeezes your knee lightly, sucking in a breath between his teeth. “It was ugly — an all out brawl. But, we survived and you came out unscathed. That’s all we need to worry about.”

But, your mind stills races. You remember seeing Amagi — seeing what should’ve been his fully intact corpse in pieces. “Peach? And Amagi? Did… anyone else live?”

“I don’t know,” he looks to the bedroom wall. His voice is uncaring ; unsympathetic as he speaks. “All I was worried about was protecting you.”

“You did.” You sit up straighter now, reaching out to hold Ryo’s hand. “You saved us — saved me.”

The room goes silent as you bask in the warmth of the sun. It’s disorienting — the world being so warm after the bloodbath of last night. Ryo speaks quietly, “I’d do it again if I needed to.”

The side of his mouth curves up as he continues, “maybe even after that.”

——♥︎——

happy halloween!! this feels a lil icky to post considering the state of the world rn, but id like to offer a distraction if i can while still using the platform i have <3 if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any HiGH&LOW content, let me know!

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 H&L TAGLIST : @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @strxwberrychocolate @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @cheshirecatuniverse

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[weeewooobitsfallout]

Curie’s storyline is so incredibly important to the development of the sole survivor. 

Long post, more under the cut :)

Curie was stuck, secluded from the world that the bombs created. She watched the only people she had ever known die, yet had to continue on with her mission and put her feelings aside. These elements help overall creating Curie’s fear about this brave new world she knows nothing about. 

On the other hand, the sole survivor wakes up 200 years later with her husband murdered and her son taken. She, also having no knowledge about the wasteland, has to find her way towards civilization for her to start her quest. 

Unlike curie, sole has to find their way to Diamond City to get a companion who understands this new Boston and how the rules of the commonwealth (dogmeat can’t really communicate or do much to help sole understand the world around them).  While this is obviously more of a game feature to teach us how to play, it can also show the acceptance and acclamation that sole has to the commonwealth. Later on in the playthrough, sole funds curie and helps her adjust to the new environment she finds herself in, in a similar way that the companions teach sole about the wasteland. The two mirror each other in tragedy and in growth.  

Personally, I like to do hole in the wall after the main quest line, as it just makes everything seem….different. Finding another vault, with all the promise 111 had, but with the actual intent to do good. Looking at what your life could’ve been. These people could have been your great grandchildren. You could’ve been happy here. Your son would’ve never been taken and you would have died without ever knowing the world outside. And that would be enough. 

And then it all falls apart again. You learn that this place was an experiment too, using humans as test subjects, just like every other place that claims to have humanity’s best interest at heart. You learn that no matter what, you die if you trust the safety others build for you. And at the end of the horrific dungeon, you see a reflection of yourself, a trapped soul behind glass begging to be let out, to feel something. You feel yourself reaching out to help, to teach Curie how to thrive 200 years later, just like how so many reached out to help you. Because you now finally feel comfortable enough here to explain it to another, showing the difference between the scared vault dweller and the leader of the wasteland. 

Overall, this parallel is also what makes the relationship between the two so uncomfortable. Imagine while you were struggling to survive and figure out who you are, you receive help from someone who you think you can trust, only for them to try and convince you that they should love you. It’s absolutely taking advantage of the knowledge and power imbalance. I think that the choice to romance Curie was intentionally supposed to be gross, to understand that while can charm anyone doesn’t mean you should, especially when you are in a position of undisputed power. 

TL;DR, making curie’s story parallel to sole’s own was extremely important to the development of both characters. The imbalance between the two is what makes the  relationship very uncomfortable, which is very intentional.

[one-britt-to-rule-them-all]

Hi!can I ask a really short gn!MC(like 140/4'8) that can actually beat everyone's ass with the side characters?Thx!idk if your ask are open,if not ignore this

They sure are, thanks for sending this in! I’m assuming you mean the four dateables when you say side characters, but if not, feel free to send this in again, so I can rectify! These got long I’m sorry.

Also, these can be read as platonic or romantic. It’s ambiguous!

They react to a really short MC that can kick ass

Genre: SFW, Crackish

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon Ft. Luke

Pronouns: GN (You/Your | They/Them)

CW: | Swearing | Fights |

Requests are OPEN, guys!

Diavolo

• When you first arrived to the Devildom, Diavolo didn't seem to take notice of your short stature — not a single comment. Focused on the excitement of welcoming a human to his realm, he greeted you with open arms, a large grin that could put the bright sun of your realm to shame, and boisterous laughter that filled the council room. Nothing out of character for the prince. He was, truly and solely, basking in the fact that his passion project was about to officially take place.

• It wasn't until one of the brothers present during your arrival — Asmodeus, if he recalled — cooed about your height that he truly took notice. When Diavolo fully examined your appearance... oh, oh.

• You were so tiny. All demons present in the room towered over you by quite a lot, even Asmodeus, despite being the shortest of the seven brothers. Honestly, Diavolo wondered if they had accidentally summoned a teenage human, going as far as to subtly lean towards Barbatos, asking if they had summoned the right human.

• But no, there had been no mistake, you were the human that had been picked for the program.

• As Lucifer took over, explaining the premises of the program, Diavolo’s grin didn’t falter, and he didn’t let it show in his posture or facial expression that his thoughts were running a mile a minute.

• Fear. Worry. Nervousness. Utter bafflement. The man nearly had an existential crisis on the spot.

• How?? How were you going to survive a full year down here? To Diavolo, you looked like a wee, fragile little thing. He was so worried that you’d be targeted by some of the rowdier demons. I mean, Beelzebub could make a midnight snack out of you under five seconds — Diavolo knew that the sixth-born wouldn’t, but still!

• Even though you were under the protection of the seven brothers, worry still ate him up. He would consistently check in with Lucifer, wanting to know how you were adjusting to the Devildom.

• Diavolo didn't know how to handle you at first, and it was quite comical to everyone around him. Should he bend or kneel to your level when talking to you? Should he talk softly, as if speaking to a frightened kitten??

• Nearly looked up 'How to talk to small human' online.

• Really, he was just afraid of frightening you. Diavolo knew just how stuffy and stiff others were around him due to his status, and he genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted you to feel comfortable around him. He was aware of how tall and broad he was, and how intimidating his power and title made him.

• And although he was relieved when he figured you weren't afraid of his presence and even enjoyed his company, he still acted as a worried mother hen. Keeping a watchful eye on you, analyzing every interaction you had with demons that weren't the brothers and keeping tabs on you by asking Lucifer for some reports, or directly checking in on you by text.

• With all of his stalking observations, of course Diavolo caught on to that one demon who looked at you hungrily. He could practically see them salivating at the thought of devouring your soul every time you walked by.

• The demon prince did not like that. Not one bit. Not only was this demon clearly having thoughts about harming a precious exchange student, but they were also thinking of harming someone who had grown to be personally precious to Diavolo himself.

• Luckily for the demon — and your safety — they had never actually been bold enough to attempt harming you, but still Diavolo remained vigilant.

• That luck ran out at one of Diavolo's many parties at the castle. It was a more casual party, and so demons of all social status were invited. Of course, you were there, accompanied by your seven friends and bodyguards closely trailing after you. However, there had been a point where you needed some fresh air to decompress from the crowd, and so, you sneaked away from the brothers, heading to a balcony.

• What you didn't notice that Diavolo had, was that the demon that had been stalking you at RAD was present at the party, and upon seeing you wander away from the party and the brothers, followed you to the balcony with a ravenous look in their eyes.

• And, oh no, that would not stand. With his face hardened and wings flared threateningly, Diavolo took quick and strong strides after the demon.

• He had made it to the balcony at the moment that the demon grabbed you by the waist, spinning you around and baring his fangs at you, muttering about how they 'finally had you where they wanted, and that you smelled absolutely divine.'

• Everything that happened afterwards was a blur; it all happened so fast. Your surprised expression contorted into a hardened glare before you gripped the demon's wrist, turned around as you flipped them over your shoulder in a fluid, effortless motion, and then dangled them in the air off the balcony.

• Diavolo was floored. He watched as the demon shrieked pleas and apologies, begging for you to spare their life, while you remained poised and silent. Eventually, you yanked them back up with enough force that had the demon falling to their knees as they panted from the frightful experience.

• When you noticed Diavolo's presence, you panicked. Bowing to him and spewing apologies about your 'inexcusable behaviour.' He had to raise his hand to stop your tangent, and he swore his heart melted when you looked at him with expectant, glossy eyes.

• It took Dia a while to get his bearings, but when he did, he crossed his arms and let out his signature, boisterous laughter; his once tense posture relaxing.

"Well now, that was most certainly unexpected. And here I was worried that your life would be in constant jeopardy down in the Devildom. Was I ever wrong? There is no need to apologize, you were acting in self-defence."

• The demon who had attempted to attack you tried to sneak away, but they were stopped by Diavolo's hand holding a harsh grip on their shoulder. Although his grin didn't falter, they could feel the sinister aura emitting from the prince.

"I believe that a little chat is in order, don't you think?"

Barbatos

• Barbatos knew what to expect of you when you first came to the Devildom and was most likely the least surprised or affected by your height. Don't be mistaken, he did find you rather cute, looking all meek on the floor as your wide, hesitant eyes glanced at the various demons towering over you.

• And although the royal butler wore his usual nonchalant expression, he certainly felt a tinge of amusement as he watched Diavolo slowly have an internal meltdown, thinking you were a goner before the program even began.

• Barbatos found it funny because he knew.

• After all, he had been tasked with looking into parts of your past and future, gauging you as a person in order to make sure that you were a rightful pick for the program. Barbatos had seen your capabilities within various timelines. He knew that, despite appearances, you were a storm waiting to ravage villages, given the right circumstances.

• While others panicked about your well-being and wondered how long you were going to survive looking as weak as you did, Barbatos held absolutely no fear, for he knew that you would be just fine.

• But he didn't tell anyone. He didn't feel it to be necessary. After all, they would be finding out for themselves rather soon. And wouldn't it be so much more amusing to see Diavolo and the seven brother's faces when it did happen?

• Barbatos, being Diavolo's loyal butler, often listened to the prince rant about how worried sick he was about your safety. To which he would politely nod with a small smile as he tried his best to reassure him to the best of his abilities.

"Fear not, my lord. I'm quite certain that no harm will befall them. In fact, I am confident that they will be okay. Besides, under the protection of the brothers, the chances of them getting harmed are quite slim."

• Of course, although Barbatos knew you could stand your ground in a fight, he still looked after you from afar. He wouldn't let his knowledge of your skills get in the way of fulfilling his duties as one of the demons in charge of your safety. After all, demons were still rather strong and unpredictable creatures, were they not? Even lesser demons could hold their own against a professionally trained human, so yes, despite your strength, he didn't turn a blind eye when it came to your safety.

• When Barbatos caught wind of a classmate of yours harassing you, his ears perked as he kept a watchful eye.

• Barbatos could tell that your patience was wavering with the demon. What had started as petty name-calling had evolved into bumping their shoulder into yours in the hallways, as well as purposefully tripping you. Barbatos could see the way you attempted to restrain yourself, preferring to let Mammon tell off the offending demon while you practised breathing exercises to stay calm.

• Honestly, Barbatos had to tip his hat to your restraint. Many others would have snapped far earlier, should they have been in your shoes.

• But when you finally snapped, well, what a beautiful display that was!

• It happened in Diavolo's office, where he, the prince and Lucifer were holding a small meeting. Barbatos had just sat down after pouring cups of his famous tea when the door to Diavolo's office suddenly burst open. No, that's not accurate. The door had been completely knocked off of its hinges, with the wood bursting into shards under the sheer force of the blow.

• The sudden ruckus had Diavolo and Lucifer springing to their feet as they stared at the demon that lay on the ground, groaning in pain and nearly unconscious. In the doorway stood your form, in all of your 4'8 glory, looking absolutely livid. Behind you was a small crowd of passing demons who gaped at the scene, with Mammon's jaw nearly hitting the floor as he stared at you in wide-eyed disbelief.

• As Lucifer demanded answers from you, Barbatos calmly took a sip of his tea. He knew.

"Oh my! Shall I arrange for repairs right away, my lord? A nurse, perhaps?"

• Upon realizing what had happened, you immediately snapped out of your rage and began profusely apologizing for one, disrupting their meeting; two, busting the door, and three, getting into a fight with another student.

• Hey! In your defence, it was self-defence. You explained that this demon, who had been targeting you for weeks, had decided to grab you by the shoulders hard enough for his claws to draw blood. And so, you responded accordingly: a surprise uppercut to the chin, followed by a swift yet strong kick to the demon's midsection.

• At the revelation, Lucifer could only pinch the bridge of his nose, grey hairs visibly forming, while Diavolo... well, he calmly told you that although you should avoid bringing harm to fellow students, you were just defending yourself. Barbatos could hear the absolute bewilderment in the prince's voice.

• "I must say, (Y/N)," Barbatos said, "While catching a glimpse of your strength was intriguing, witnessing it with my own eyes is far more fascinating. But please, do come to us should you encounter another pest."

"You knew all along, Barbatos?!" Diavolo said.

• The butler could only offer a small, cheeky, close-eyed smile. Of course he knew.

Solomon

• Upon first meeting you at RAD, Solomon didn't have a strong opinion about your height. Of course, he took notice, but he merely glossed over it with a subtle quirk of his eyebrow after looking you up and down. Sure, you were a cute little human, but that was about as deep as his thoughts ran.

• From his perspective, why would your safety be in any kind of danger when you had the avatars and the royals to back you up? Should a problem ever arise, you always had someone trailing behind you, usually Mammon, and he had noticed Lucifer's watchful eye.

• So, no, Sol wasn't bothered by your height, nor was he concerned for you. At least, that was his opinion up until he got to know you better and you managed to earn yourself a soft spot in the sorcerer's heart.

• Don't get him wrong, even after you became close, Solomon still didn't fear for your well-being. After all, you now had one of the most powerful sorcerer added to your roster of bodyguards. No, that wasn't how his behaviour towards you had changed. Instead, your height had become the butt of all his teasing, as Solomon was definitely the type to lovingly bully his close friends.

• Solomon, that shady bastard, is an absolute menace. As a fellow human, he knew all the best 'short people' jokes in the book, and dear God, he would absolutely milk them. He truly revelled in the frustrated expressions you pulled at his continuous teasing. You looked about as threatening as a small child when you looked at him like that.

• "Solomon, could you please give me my DDD back," you said.

"Hm?" He said, pretending to be confused as he dangled the device above his head. "It's right there. Nothing is stopping you from taking it."

• He has bought you kid clothes before as a joke, but the joke was on him since you not only fit in them, but you also looked hecking adorable.

• "Hey, Solomon, I've got a question about this spell. See, this part right here is kinda confusing to me, and — hey! Are you even listening?"

With a confused expression, Solomon looked around the room. "Hm? I could have sworn I heard a voice..."

You sighed, shaking your head. "Oi, down here."

"Ah, (Y/N)! There you are! You're so small, I didn't even see you come into the room."

"Bastard."

• Solomon sometimes pats your head and coos praises in a baby voice whenever you make progress with your magic, and he has definitely taken a liking to bending to your level to make eye contact when he speaks to you. He comes across as condescending, for sure, but you're at the point in your relationship where it's just a 'you and him' thing. If another attempted to do nearly half the things Solomon did on a near-daily basis, there would be hell to pay for the disrespect. 'I can bully you, but others can't,' type of guy.

• But despite it all, Solomon is smart. He knows your limits and boundaries and won't push, and he knows to read the room and wouldn't tease you if he knew you weren't in the best of moods.

• Unfortunately, not all demons in the Devildom had his smarts. Especially not this particular demon, who jumped at every opportunity which sorcerer wasn't by your side to pick at you. They were a demon that you had once been paired with for a spells project, and the bullying had begun then. You believed the catalyst had been when you pointed out a few mistakes in your partner's part of the work. After all, they were a lesser demon of pride.

• Cruel remarks about your species, picking apart your appearance, and even threatening harm on you since you 'looked so breakable.' But the coward would casually walk off with a shit-eating smirk plastered on their face whenever Solomon or one of the brothers walked in your direction.

• Solomon let you vent your frustrations to him about the pest, even offering to put a curse on them. Y'know, teach them a lesson or two. Or five. Who was counting?

• Eventually, you snapped, and Solomon had a front-row seat to the show.

• Class had ended, and as the classroom was clearing out, leaving behind only yourself, Solomon and the demon, the demon came up to you. Seemingly forgetting that Solomon was present at the back of the class, they began taunting you, which you chose to ignore. Not even gracing them with a glance, you acted as though they didn't exist, which most definitely shot an arrow through the demon's pride.

• When the demon held your wrist in a vice grip tight enough to leave a hand-shaped bruise, Solomon was ready to throw hands. However, it seemed as though you had beaten him to the punch.

• Solomon watched, utterly fascinated, as you reeled your unoccupied hand back, delivering a sucker punch that had Sol wincing for the poor soul on the receiving end.Then, in an astounding display, you lifted the demon above your shoulders as though they weighed nothing before slamming them into the ground. Adding salt to the wound, a swift kick to their ribs had a sickening crack resonating throughout the classroom.

• Well, colour him pleasantly surprised! And a little turned on, not gonna lie.

• Solomon followed you out of the class, stepping over the demon who was writhing in pain on the ground, but not without muttering a few words underneath his breath.

• "Now, where did such a little human such as yourself conjure up so much power? Absolutely fascinating, dear."

• Let's just say that Solomon was counting his blessings that you were on his side, and that he had never pushed you over the edge. In no way did he want to be on the receiving end of such a smackdown. But he'd be lying if he said that he didn't want to see this side of you again. For research purposes, of course.

• And that demon? Well, let's just say he was stuck in the bathroom with a rather violent stomach bug for a good week straight. Strange.

Simeon

• Sweet Simeon truly didn't want to underestimate you. He didn't want to offend you by doubting your capabilities, but... well, he just couldn't help it! You were such a sweet human with the purest of souls.

• A caregiver by nature, Simeon immediately worried about your safety. There was no doubt in his mind that your height, making you look as meek and fragile as it did, would make you a prime target for hungry demons looking for easy prey.

• Sure, you were taller than Luke was, but Luke had the saving grace of being an angel, therefore, not completely defenceless. You, on the other hand, were a human with no magical capabilities.

• He trusted that the brothers would keep you safe, but what if you were caught during a split-second where you were left unattended? That's all it would take for a demon to jump you.

• And so, you had gained yourself a guardian angel who silently yet aggressively fretted over you. If a brother couldn't accompany you to class, he happily fulfilled that role, even waiting for you to be safely seated before taking his leave. He constantly asked how you were doing, trying to subtly gauge whether you had gone through some troubling experiences. You did tell him anything negative, if you had, Simeon wasn't sure if he would take it up to Diavolo and Lucifer, or if he would confront the problem himself.

• Nevertheless, Simeon made sure that all demons knew that, not only were you under the protection of the avatars, but also a high-ranking angel. Considering angels could easily go toe to toe with demons, most seemed to get the memo, not glancing in your direction whenever Simeon hung with you.

• Of course, there was the occasional demon who seemed to think that the small human was fair game to harass. If Simeon ever caught wind of it, he'd help you defuse the situation peacefully, protectively standing in front of you as he cast a disappointed glance to the offending demon. Simeon had this sort of presence where one would shrivel in shame if the angel looked at them in disappointment.

• Thankfully, none had attempted to bring physical harm on you, and Simeon sincerely prayed that it would never happen. It was bad enough to him that you had to deal with the occasional insult, he'd never be able to forgive himself if the human he had grown so fond of got hurt while on his watch.

• Simeon was pretty stoked when Luke joined him on the '(Y/N) protection squad'. One more friend and bodyguard! Because despite being a small child, Luke was still an angel with holy abilities.

• Besides, Simeon thought that it was just so sweet, seeing Luke get all protective over you. The young angel seemed to see you as an older sibling, and that made Simeon's heart melt.

• In turn, you became quite protective of Luke yourself. Simeon didn't blame you, as he knew that the majority of humans had quite the instinct to keep children safe from harm.

• However, you tended to put yourself in harm's way for the sake of defending Luke's honour. Sure, you were only biting back with colourful insults whenever someone picked at Luke, but it definitely made Simeon's hair prematurely go grey. After all, some demons were quite easy to set off, and he didn't want you to accidentally start a fight.

• He cradled your hands into his, soothing your knuckles with delicate strokes of his thumbs.

"My dear, I very much appreciate you looking out for Luke, but you mustn't endanger yourself. Please, promise me to watch out for yourself. I don't know what I would do if something ever happened to you. And I'm sure Luke feels the same way."

• That pleading, worried look in Simeon's eyes broke you, and you didn't have the heart to argue with him.

• Things had settled down for a while after Simeon had a talk with you; you opted to reach out to him if you felt Luke was being treated unfairly instead of meddling. Which Simeon very much appreciated. You were still watching over Luke, but in a way that didn't compromise your safety. Everyone wins!

• Of course, just when things had settled down, you threw Simeon for a loop.

• It was the first time a demon had attempted to bring physical harm to Luke. Students were sidestepping as the poor, crying child ran at full force down the hallway as a lesser demon chased after him.

• Searching for a saving grace, Luke spotted you walking his way, and without thinking, he immediately darted behind you for security and comfort. You, being you, didn't ask questions as you saw the demon approaching. Your brain went, 'child in danger, must protect child.' And so, consequences be damned.

• Simeon was sprinting down the hall with all his might after hearing gossip which involved a demon chasing the young angel. He felt his heart stop as he saw both you and Luke standing in the demon's path, the latter not stopping in his chase, even with you standing protectively in front of Luke. To the demon, that was just an extra target, after all.

• But then, Simeon stopped dead in his tracks, staring wide-eyed and gasping as he saw your next move. With deadly precision, you had grabbed the demon's wrist, and with force he didn't know humans could even achieve, swung your arm behind you, effectively throwing the demon into the distance. There was a loud thud where the demon's body landed, followed by a pained grunt.

• Regaining his bearings, Simeon ran to you and Luke before the demon could get back up. He didn't think that he would. Those cracks sounded painful. He pulled you and Luke into an empty classroom, away from the public eye. While you were busy fussing over Luke, trying to comfort him and hush his tears, Simeon didn't know who to fuss over for a moment, still gobsmacked from what he had just witnessed.

• Eventually, he joined you in the Luke comfort squad. You both looked like a couple of worried parents after a close call with their child.

• "Haha. Forgive me, (Y/N). While I was busy worrying myself sick over you, you were perfectly capable of holding your own all along. I misjudged you; that was impressive. But please, never again, I nearly had a heart attack."

• When Luke had calmed down, he became your number one fan. Seriously, Simeon and Solomon would be hearing about it for the next month. Not that Simeon was any better; he'd be praising you for a lifetime.

• Don't judge a book by its cover, huh?

[xjulixred45x]

Hiiii I just read SatoSugu x Douma reader and I loved it! :3

I was wondering if you could do a headcanon about Ieiri Shoko adopting a Nezuko Kamado! Reader and her brother Tanjiro? Like imagine two 5 year old children walking around the streets of Japan homeless because their family was massacred by a special grade curse and they were the sole survivors. And the reader’s wounds were exposed to the curse which kinda transformed into a vampiric like state.

Like in a universe where Toji didn’t kill Riko, and Geto didn’t turn evil. Like the twins, megumi, tsumiki, reader and tanjiro having little playdates. It be so cute! And reader being so shy around Geto and Gojo so she hides behind Shoko. But also protective of Shoko :3

and maybe Nezuko! Reader when she’s older she develops a crush or gets a girlfriend and its Nobara Kugisaki

YES!!! SHOKO CONTENT!!! THANK YOU!!

Lieri Shoko x Nezuko! Reader(+ Tanjiro! Reader)

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: Divergent canon AU where Geto didn't turn evil and Toji didn't kill Riko, a happy AU. Smoking, some Angst, Fluff, Reader has the Powers and personality of Nezuko Kamado of Demon Slayer, Reader has a brother. I think is all.

To be honest, I can see how Shoko wasn't going to take care of the siblings voluntarily at first.

Let's see, I'm not saying that she didn't like children, just that she was too self-aware that her work environment and herself were not the best for a child, let alone two who had gone through a traumatic situation.

When she read the incident reports and autopsies of the parents, she felt bad for the children.

A curse of a special degree had invaded their house and killed their parents and siblings. The children hid quickly, which saved their lives, but they did not leave without both physical and emotional scars.

Shoko had to check on the youngest, (reader), who, thanks to long exposure to cursed energy, had gotten sick.

Although that was definitely common, the girl's rapid healing process was not.

It was something strange, it was as if his body began to absorb the cursed energy as a survival mechanism.

and his older brother, the other survivor, was largely unaffected, but he was definitely worried about what would happen to him and his sister once the checks were over.

Shoko wondered the same thing. They couldn't just return them as if nothing happened. Maybe they would hand them over to some clan?

Imagine Shoko's surprise when she found out that the brothers were going to live with her temporarily for "safety" reasons☠️

They weren't fooling Shoko, they wanted to keep the children close to see how they developed as sorcerers and how to use them in the future, especially the girl, but she really couldn't do much against that.

After all, being the only doctor with a reverse technique, Shoko had a high level of security, so if the children would be safe anywhere, it would be with her.

although it definitely didn't mean it was easy.

Shoko spent much of the time before the children's arrival moving things, throwing away papers, organizing her house, so that it was habitable for two more children.

She also had to moderate her gloomy attitude towards children for now in order not to generate a regression as a result of the trauma.

She had to learn not to smoke inside her own home.

It was a great adjustment. and Shoko hates it at various points.

and it was worse when she didn't love the children right away, she felt like she was changing her life completely for strangers.

Fortunately it was not something that lasted for long.

(reader) and her brother were good children, quite good, they didn't cause problems, they ate what Shoko gave them and above all they were calm. maybe too much.

Sometimes Shoko worried that they were too quiet for their ages.

which prompted her to want to interact more with them.

In part he did it with the excuse that it was to have more information about the (reader's) condition, but it was quite obvious that he cared about the children.

but especially their health.

Shoko being Shoko let the children make their mistakes to learn from them, which included getting hurt, she expected to have to treat the boobs but was surprised when she saw, again, the rapid healing of (reader).

so it's not just with cursed energy, it's with all the wounds.

Shoko watched the children in their period of adjustment and recovery while doing what she could to make them comfortable, such as telling them a story (which she had to buy), making them food, giving them some private classes in the cursed energy (and them understanding as much as Geto and Gojo), etc.

Shoko was...starting to enjoy the company, the movement, the activity...

The children's enthusiasm and optimism was contagious, especially from (reader)'s brother, Tanjiro, who was always trying to help with anything around the house, see the positive side, and being generally sunny.

(reader) on the other hand was a somewhat cryptic case, she was a good girl, yes, but at the same time she barely spoke, she was more reserved, but she definitely had potential.

that was what worried Shoko.

She has seen what Jujutsu does to people, what the ACADEMY does to people, taking something good and crushing it.

She didn't want (reader) to go through something like that, she had already been through a lot in her life.

If possible, he will ask Geto and Gojo for help in keeping the higher-ups away from the children, which they both gladly do.

Shoko also exposes them to other children with their special abilities, such as Megumi, Mimiko and Nanako, they get along quite well despite their differences (the reader and Tanjiro are somewhat afraid of Geto and Gojo, but at least they feel safe with Shoko there) .

Thus, they grow with better management of their skills and, above all, a better understanding of the jujutsu environment.

If we go to the most general ideas, Shoko is the empowering "cool mom" who lets you get away with anything as long as you don't hurt yourself (she doesn't give a damn about anyone else).

Shoko is "fine" with her children wanting to join the sorcerers, but she will also be quite clear about all the possible risks (and will threaten Satoru with death if her children do not return safely).

If her children still want to be sorcerers, then she accepts it, she even supports their courage quite a bit.

I think that Shoko, taking advantage of ( reader's) healing ability, would try to teach her reverse ritual technique, hopefully now using words that she can understand and thus be more useful in fights or outside of them. You could really use an assistant after all.

Now that her children are grown, she allows herself to be her normal, somewhat scary self, so to annoy them from time to time she throws super random or super deadly data on the human body as "fighting tips" or how to dismember someone, For example.

She finds it funny how, having been practically raised by her, they still turned out so good-natured.

Although don't get me wrong, Shoko will be a somewhat carefree mother but that doesn't mean she doesn't care about her children.

If (reader)/her brother comes depressed because a classmate died, they had a horrible mission or they are simply down, then she will sit with them, give them some tea (or a cigarette if they want) and comfort them in her own way.

She wants her children to feel like they can count on her and tell her what they feel, not be the "my mom is going to kill me" type of guardian.

And above all, he is afraid of losing (reader) and Tanjiro for that very reason, that they cannot say things.

Shoko is brutally honest with her children, so she expects the same. She knows when to praise them and when to criticize them.

that in all aspects of life, both school and out of school.

in love for example.

(reader) is someone with little experience in love, so Shoko will always be honest when she thinks a boy doesn't suit her, even if it sounds ugly or causes a fight, she prefers a passing storm to a permanent hurricane.

The same goes for Tanjiro, but we could say that the two of them team up to protect (the reader)'s back as much as possible from jerks.

Honestly, Shoko would be more than fine with LGBT children, simply because then she won't have to deal with certain additional problems.

I mean, if (reader) had a crush on Nobara for example, seeing that she is a good girl and that she is good for (reader) because she accepts her into her home.

although she definitely gives him/her the shovel talk in case she/he ever dares to try to hurt her daughter :)

and also Shoko's threats SHOULD definitely not be taken for granted.

She has already become very, VERY attached to them for the higher-ups to want to do some dirty tactics with them in order to maintain "peace" in the system.

even without Gojo or Geto helping her, Shoko is BRUTAL on her own.

If they tried to take the kids to another family, I think it would be one of the first times that Shoko loses her cool and is panicking, it's not like she would let it happen, but she wouldn't think that would happen in the first place.

You could say that children really change her priorities.

If they try to commit any of the children to a member/heir of one of the clans, it is a big NO NO and she will make the epic move of eloping with the children on the wedding day. she is like that💅

Experiments with ( reader) because of her special ability? Over her cold.dead.maggot infested BODY.

Do you hurt any of them? It's your last day. prepare to be received at the morgue, not necessarily dead yet :)

She literally becomes feral.

Even if he doesn't mean it, he might threaten to quit his position as a doctor if they try any moves with the kids, which has worked, for now.

But either way, there's nothing to worry about. Shoko is a mother bear who protects and loves her strange and extraordinary children very much.

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

Thanks for the Request ❤️

Aaaaaa it's been so long since i enjoyed writing for JJK so much!

If You guys can, Request of other fandoms (i'm recently into Invincible and Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, so if You can, it would be really nice)

Love ya ❤️

[galadrielspeaks]

just thinking about thranduil and how he categorises his life and how the events of his life affects the way he rules his kingdom…. how so much of his development was defined by huge cataclysmic tragedies… thinking about how his youth is defined as before Doriath and his adulthood is defined as After Doriath… how when he became a prince he probably held on to his more idealistic beliefs only to be sternly reminded of the fickleness of life during war….. how the entire kingdom of the woodland realm probably has a Before Dagorlad and an After. how could you not after losing your king and the majority of your people? it is incredibly telling how these events of Thranduil’s past has affected his rule and everything about him down to his parenting. he understands he’s alone. that’s tragic. but he also understands his kingdom is alone. he’s a lonely king. there's no one higher than him, no one to seek advice from. he understands he is the final defender of a kingdom and he is fighting an inherited war, he has first hand witnessed the tragedies of this war and has been directly critically affected by it, he is just as much a victim of Sauron as his people. his nobility offers him zero protection, at any point he could lose everything, and yet he remains empathetic. he remains kind. he remains generous. he obviously sees the worth in fighting, he refuses to give up fully. he is (reasonably!) incredibly cautious which some call him an isolationist or consider him fickle for, during events like his refusal of gandalf’s invitation to the White Council but it becomes incredibly clear why he is like this when it’s put into context of his past. he has trusted allies before, he has seen what has happened. to join an organisation full of ring bearer’s as the sole leader of a nation with no ring to protect his people is almost an insult. they would not and do not understand what it takes to lead in that situation. Thranduil and all of his people are living in the after of the war of the last alliance. why would they join another? Thranduil has put his people first. He recognises that they themselves are the only ones who understand just how at risk they are. and yet with all of this in mind it should noted that he allies himself with men (who historically have experienced and understand the dangerous climate of their respective nations) and creates trade routes with them to provide for his people and also provides aid to them. and it is noted in the text that Legolas has been raised incredibly happily, and he is well-adjusted. throughout fighting a seemingly losing war thranduil found it implicitly important to raise his son with joy and hope. i like to believe he understands the importance of childhood whimsy and enchantment and worked to instill and maintain his child’s innocence. he raised his son as trauma-free as he could (saying this bc we do not know if his mother is dead or sailed or not but either way to be without the mother is traumatic but besides that Legolas appears to be generally mentally healthy). despite knowing first hand just how cruel and painful life is he did not feel the need to raise his child to be prepared and worried about very real threats. rather he raised his child happily, and simply worked to give his son the skills he needed to survive and to defend himself. usually military father's who have expreienced a great deal of trauma and haven't processed it correctly tend to succumb to the urge to raise their children to understand the cruelty of the world, and loathe their children for their innocence. i think that in thranduil not doing this with legolas, we can infer that he has taken time to healthily process his experiences. I believe that Thranduil is an incredibly important figure in the Lord of the Rings because he is truly an incredible example of someone who learns from their mistakes, learns from tradegy, who learns from life. i think that Thranduil never wanted to be a King, it is a responsibility that fell into his lap unwillingly and that is why he is a successful and well-loved ruler.

[imagine-silk]

May I request something with Nick? Like, Sole was a detective who worked with the Nick who Nick was based off of? So Nick would definitely be surprised to see Sole. I could kinda see that perhaps this could cause a bit of inner conflict with Nick too. Thank you for considering my request, hun!

》I need to learn how to make dividers. If any of you know how to make them let me know. (oh my god I never knew I liked to be called 'hun' (⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝))

Nick back then was different for obvious reasons. The war was still going on but it was still not a lost cause, and he didn't encounter it day to day by force but by choice. He was married to Jenny, the girl of his dreams that he always thought was out of his league. His identity was unquestioned and never in doubt and he never had a problem with his body. He was happy with his life.

You had a huge influence on him. When he met you he was just barely out of his cop uniform and getting used to wearing what he wanted. You were the one he was assigned to to learn the ropes. Something you weren't very happy about in the beginning but you were never mad at him, he wasn't the one to make the call. So you showed him what you did and taught him what you knew at the time.

From the start he wanted to make a good impression and was very eager to please. It took a second for him to calm it down. He still admired you. After his tutelage was done neither of you asked for a change. It was silently agreed you were partners, no talk needed.

You were there when he scanned his brain. It was for college students and their studies. You told him it was strange and to think twice about it but he laughed and said it was for science. That's the last memory he had when he woke up in the trash.

While he was adjusting he stumbled a lot. Then when he was welcomed into Diamond city and given his agency he tried to take hold of his life. The way he did was to pretend like he was you, to do what you would do, to take authority and be the one in charge. Over the years he changed. After a lot of reflection he realized you wouldn't have wanted that, you didn't want him to be you. You would want him to be the best version of himself. So he strive to be the person you saw in him.

Time stopped for him when you saved him in the vault. He felt so many different things. And he saw your confusion. You were under the impression he survived like you did, because no one told you he was a synth. Neither of you remember who said you should get moving but one of you did.

At the agency you asked your companion to wait outside for this reunion. "Nicki." A nickname you always called him by fondly. "You do remember me, right?"

What was he supposed to do, lie to you? But that was the problem. How much of him was a lie? He tried to explain but that made him think in circle. He did remember you but he wasn't yours, he wasn't who you remembered. He wasn't Nick. But he did know you. He still wanted to please you. He wanted you to see what he made of himself and tell him he did good. But you weren't his to claim because he wasn't Nick. But he was. He was Nick and there was no running away from that.

You hushed him, "It's okay. If you want to go back to us we'll do that. If you want me to be a stranger we can do that. I'll go at your pace. No matter if you're my Nick or your own. And if you never want to see or speak to me again I'll leave after we find Shaun." Again you put the ball in his court, just like he remembered. And he knew whatever he said you would pick the ball up and play the game with his rules.

"I'm not him. I'm not. But I want to be with you again." It was all so much. He knew you but you didn't know him. Somehow you knew exactly what he meant; I want you to know the me now.

He never really thought about how much he missed you in the last couple of years but now that you were here it was kind of embarrassing. You hired him to help you but he still looked up to you. It felt like he was hired help instead of a private eye. Every step of the way you smiled and told him he was doing a good job.

Throughout your time together you bond. It's different but familiar, it's built on what you had and became what was new.

He actually held Shaun once. He actually held him several times but he only remembered the first. This was personal for him too. The child of his best friend.

He was so confused when you came back through the telepad without Shaun. He followed you when you stormed away to your house and saw your break down. "I lost everything. Every fucking thing! My world, my wife, my partner, and now my son. What am I here for? Who do I need to kill-" You stopped when you saw his face and realized what you said. "That's not what I meant. Nicki. Nick!" You called out but he was out the door.

There he was hiding in his office like he did after your first fight on the job. But that was the problem wasn't it, he wasn't the one you upset at the time. Of course you knew he was hiding there and showed up. He didn't stop you when you sat down next to him. "Do you remember-"

"I probably do." It was bitter and pointed but you continued.

"Not like that. Yesterday I said 'tomorrow this will all be over'. And you said?"

"'It's not over until the fat lady sings'."

You chuckled, smiled, like nothing was wrong. You were so good at that. "That was the first time I'd ever heard that. You, Nick, never said that. It surprised me. What a weird saying. You're not Nick, I know that. I lost him. But I have you."

You'd just found out you lost everything from before the war and here he was being selfish, having the gall to need reassurance from you. The sweet thing was he knew you would tell him that was a stupid thought and you'd always have time for him no matter how silly. "You do have me." Like that he tilted and put his head on your shoulder.

[cdyssey]

Yellowjackets 2.06 Reactions:

TW: Cannibalism; Traumatic Birth Experiences

Coach Ben teaching Health Ed class!! This man has suffered through so much.

TAIVAN WITH THEIR DESKS SHOVED TOGETHER!! Lolololol, at Misty being the only one who is paying attention and Ben clearly not caring that no one is paying attention.

“Poppies, Jeff. Jackie likes poppies.” She says this to get people to stop whispering about them, but God, I love the intimacy of this line too—the way that Shauna knows Jackie’s favorite flower.

THIS BLUR SONG. WOW, WOW, WOW.

Lmao at Misty emptying all her pockets.

Lottie’s shocked expression when she clocks that it’s Misty for the first time. The almost immediate steeliness, the barely controlled rage. The height difference between Simone and Christina is so fucking funny. Misty is a tiny little bean.

“And I won’t call the IRS about what I assume is your routine tax evasion.” AKQKWNWKSN

Lottie gets a visible headache and asks Misty to stay a while; she possibly had a vision?

“She is the one who decided to act out by dating a cop.” SO FOUL, SHAUNA SNSNDNWNWJDNS.

“It honestly would’ve been better if you just had sex with him.” FOUL FOUL FOUL.

Baby girl is so fucked up!!! Callie and Jeff’s horrified expressions when they hear this shows us that they’re registering this, how off kilter Shauna is.

The girls desperately scrambling to figure out what they should do to help Shauna, and it’s moments like these when you remember that they’re children, and it’s awful.

Tai being right at Shauna’s head, holding her shoulders, wiping off her head, encouraging her. They make me so fucking tender.

Misty has entirely shut down.

“WILDERNESS, I HOPE SHAUNA DOESN’T DIE.” MARI WOQKOQJEWJWJRJNWJEJWNWNENWJS. YOU KEEP DIGGING YOURSELF INTO THAT PIT, GIRL. I LOVE YOU.

Tai holding Shauna’s face reassuring her over and over again that she’s not going to die.

Nat being a fail girl at rifle practice.

“I’m poison. I ruin people.” God, my heart aches for her. She genuinely believes this.

“I killed my best friend… the only person that I loved.” FUCK. 😭

Natalie and Lisa’s relationship is so, so good. The vulnerability between them, the care.

“… we did so much fucked up shit out there. And yeah, maybe it was to survive. Maybe. But I don’t think we deserved to.” GOD GOD GOD. Two things haunt me about this particular line. That second maybe—we’ve known from the start that they did things out there that weren’t solely about survival. Pit Girl. Her ritualistic consumption. But also the fact that this is the condemnation that Nat hangs on them all. None of them should have made it out of the woods alive, and maybe, just maybe, that would have been penance for what they had done.

Tai looks like a peak lesbian in Van’s clothes. <3

Van reminding Tai of her FAMILY, and Tai is just like, lmao, fuck them. It’s you and me, baby.

She is so awful. <33

“You’re married, Taissa. There’s no us anymore.” God.

Tai sees all the overdue bills in the trash can; Van is struggling.

Misty is utterly broken about Kristen. It’s easy for us to say she’s the “well-adjusted” one between all the adults because she’s been able to compartmentalize so well; she’s out there girlbossing and murdering!! But she’s just as fucked up, just as traumatized, even if she invited so much of that trauma on herself: breaking the transmission box, telling Kristen, inadvertently killing that innocent girl.

Nat appealing to Ben, the adult, Ben, the health ed teacher, for guidance, BUT HE IS A FAILURE TOO. “I just pressed play on a video.” AMQKQKKEWKKDOWKSSK

“Women have been having babies for millions of years.” 😭 Nat, I fucking love you. These girls care for each other so fucking much.

GETTING COMFORT FROM HER POCKET MOUSE. AKILAH, I LOVE YOU AMQMQDNJWNS.

Not the cult performing blood offerings in the corner. My God QNKQKQMWNRKWKWMWMWKWJREK.

POV: Ur having a baby in the woods and all the goth kids are being weird about it.

God, Lottie needs to fucking get a new psychiatrist. This lady is the worst.

Simone is such a fucking good actor.

“We did… terrible things in Its name. And I thought when we were rescued, that we left It there, but now I realize… we brought it back with us.” The subtitles are really lending an emphasis to It now. God, I need a side-by-side of all the ladies talking about the terrible things they did in the forest: Shauna talking to Callie, Natalie and Lisa, and now Lottie and the psychiatrist. The horror on all of their faces when they admit this truth aloud; for all of them, it’s almost too much to bear.

“I mean, if you’re done crying, I could tell you some stories.” QKQKKWOWJEJDJ

Ben, ur such a failure. Ily.

The antlers behind Ben in the flashback…

THE PLACENTA FUCKING COMING FIRST. AND THE VIDEO. AND TAI REMEMBERING IT’S SUPPOSED TO COME AFTERWARDS. I’M FUCKED UP.

Crystal and Misty were gonna sing a song at Shauna’s labor. Lmfao.

“You can save our baby.” LOTTIE WTF

“You’re so close to being on the other side.” The double entendre is absolutely there. Shauna is so fucking close to death.

Taissa crying because she cares so much for Shauna and she already knows, from that placenta coming first, this fucking isn’t going to end well.

“Aren’t you probably the last person who should be giving me legal advice right now?” AQQKEMFMEMS, drag her ass, Callie. (Callie and Shauna both wearing that forest green because they are so alike.)

I fucking hate Matt the Cop. Smug fucking bastard!!

Tai fucking with Van about the sorting. 😭 I love them so much.

“No, Tai. You came here for help with your life. If I need help with mine, I’ll let you know.” TELL HER, VAN. One thing I’ve really enjoyed about both Taissa storylines is that they’ve consistently portrayed her as someone who can be judgmental and hypocritical. It’s such a good character flaw for her.

Tai’s entire tone changing when she hears that it’s Lottie.

“It’s a bunch of granola losers, but the food is great, and the BO factor is surprisingly low.” QKQKFNWKOWKEQPJEN

All of these children are crying, and I’m so fucking upset. I care about all of them so goddamn much. Nat and Tai and Misty being right there for her means so much for me. That’s my core four.

Shauna is dying right in front of them.

THE SUBTITLES SAY MISTY, BUT THAT WAS JACKIE FUCKING TAYLOR’S VOICE.

The entire scene is lit differently. The baby is too big and healthy. The placenta came first. The crying is repetitive. This is a goddamn dream.

“… but no, I’d rather keep the past in the past.” / “Van, you run a video store. […] You practically live in the past.” POT CALLING THE KETTLE BLACK, MA’AM. YOU WERE RECENTLY CAUGHT SACRIFICING YOUR DOG IN THE BASEMENT!! YOU CHASED AFTER YOUR EX AND GAVE HER A BOOBY PEN!!!!!!

Taissa is so judgy, lmfao. Never change, girl failure.

“Don’t fuckin’ judge me because I know you’re too evolved for online dating.” GET HER!! Lauren has inhabited Van so well. Like, sometimes I can hear Liv in her delivery of lines.

“But don’t flatter yourself. It’s not because of you.” Vanlottietai triangle in the wilderness when

Natalie, ma’am, I know you have, like, seven different infections from wearing those pants for so long. SEVEN.

Lisa giving Natalie the Fourteenth Gilly, so she’s responsible for something other than herself. 😭 Sobs.

If anything fucking happens to Lisa, I will lose my shit. I love her so much.

Shauna not being able to feed the baby. I’m so fucked up. The other girls can see that starvation awaits.

JEFF PLAYING “FUCK THE POLICE” WITH THE WINDOW DOWN OUTSIDE THE POLICE STATION. I LOVE THIS MAN. HE IS THE FUNNIEST FUCKING HIMBO. ALQWKQODJKWKW

QKQOOWWKMWKDNSNS, JEFF SAYING IT TAKES A WHILE FOR SHAUNA TO GO TO THE BATHROOM. THE LOOKS TAI AND VAN GIVE EACH OTHER. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS MAN

He is such a weirdo.

Misty talking about Nat with such love and affection. Girlfriends. <33

“We’re all like this. Aren’t we?” Nat looking at Misty for the first time with sympathy in her eyes. She fundamentally sees that Misty is fucked up too.

I’m fucking crying at this baby starving.

“Your kid doesn’t like you too much, does she?” RIGHT ON THE HEELS OF THAT LAST SCENE. THAT’S SHAUNA’S GREATEST FEAR, HER CONTINUALLY BLEEDING WOUND.

Melanie Lynskey is so fucking pretty.

“You really did a number on her.” God, God, God, God. Shauna and Callie really eff me up. They were doomed from the start, from the moment that Shauna nearly died from having that first baby in the woods.

“And you do not have to be like your mom.” It’s too late, Kevyn. She already is.

“I never even wanted to be a mom. In fact… I did not sta… start out a bad person, but in case you haven’t noticed, life doesn’t tend to turn out the way you think it will. You have a kid that you… you don’t want… to save a marriage that you got into out of… guilt and-and shame. And, and you just… you can’t really let yourself love either of them. But, of course, you do. You-you love them despite yourself. You’re just incredibly bad at it.” I HAVE LITERAL TEARS RUNNING DOWN MY FACE. MELANIE GODDAMN LYNSKEY.

This isn’t Shauna lying. We know that Shauna is a piss poor fucking liar. This is the truth from the bottom of her goddamn heart. She didn’t want Callie. She had her to save a marriage that she only got into because she felt so guilty—about the woods, about Jackie, about what she and Jeff and all the girls did to her. But she loves them. She loves her husband. She loves her daughter. And she knows that she hasn’t done them their due. And this has also been a truth from the beginning. Shauna absolutely loathes herself. She self-destructs partially as a punishment that she thinks fits her endless crime.

The music shifts when she does start lying. What came before it was sincere.

“But leave my kid out of it.” SHE LOVES CALLIE.

I fucking hate this cop!!!

CALLIE SINGLE-HANDEDLY SAVING THIS ENTIRE INVESTIGATION WOQKQKWOQOKWIDJDJEJEJEJEJEJEIEKEMDJD. I FUCKING LOVE HER.

“Especially when they ask me to describe his weird ass balls.” WKQKWOQOOWIWJEJDIEJENWKIRIRIFKDKWKDIDIFIEIWKDJDJWJKSJE.

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO HATE CALLIE SADECKI.

Lottie feeding the baby. ☠️

JEFF SPITTING HIS DRINK OUT EVERYWHERE DJWJDNDN.

Shauna’s voice break when she says “Yes” about the gun. She’s unraveling and unraveling.

“I am really worried about you. You are, like, out of control, Shauna.” / “Yeah, you think?!” And she actually cries in front of Jeff.

Jeff’s like, “Go, honey. Have a well-deserved mental health vacation with your wilderness cannibal girlfriends. 🥰” He didn’t say that, but I’m paraphrasing.

Callie and Shauna had a plan all along. :/ But Shauna screwed it up. Both of the Sadecki parents trying to reassure their daughter.

NAT TRYING TO, UM, SPARE THE FISH FROM THE COLD CRUELTIES OF THIS WORLD. GOD????

“It’s all a goddamn prison anyway.”

GOOD. THE FOURTEENTH GILLY LIVES.

I’m no fish expert, but um, is that bowl just a wee bit too small?

Shauna talking so tenderly to this baby. This episode is not going to fucking end well.

Shauna saying that she wants the moment for herself, and that’s such a core part of her ethos. This (dream) baby is hers and hers alone, someone she doesn’t have to share, someone that no one can try to control, even though they might try.

LMAO, AT SHAUNA GETTING THERE SO FAST. SHE MUST HAVE BEEN SPEEDING.

Nat has finally changed out of those goddamn leather pants!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Shauna and Nat hug. Oh, God, yeah, yeah, yeah. Natalie was there for Shauna during one of her darkest times, and now they’re both in ruts again. There’s so much solemnity in the gesture, so much pain.

Taimisty joy hug. 😭

VANLOTTIE HOMOEROTIC CRY STARING!!!

THE FUCKING SYMBOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The tea was drugged. 😭 Shauna calling out for Tai and Van.

FUCKING EATING IT. I KNOW IT’S A DREAM. I KNOW. I KNOW, BUT GOD

AND THEN SHE FUCKING WAKES UP, AND THEY’RE ALL CRYING.

“We thought we lost you.” Tai holding her face. I’m fucking unwell.

I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS. I CAN’T

SOPHIE FUCKING NÉLISSE.

“Don’t you hear him crying? Why can’t you hear him cry?”

Taissa holding Shauna and that dead baby, blood on her hands.

“Why can’t you hear him?”

This is the most upsetting goddamn television I’ve ever fucking seen in my life.

“The infants lungs will fill with air, signaled by a cry.” And at the end, it’s this line from the video documentary that comes back to haunt us all.

[randomshyperson]

Yellow Curtains - Chapter Four - Wanda Maximoff Series

Summary: Wanda Maximoff's senior year at Novi Grad School is duly planned for her. She has good friends, good grades, and a good system to hide who she really is. Or, the one based on Evak from the Norway Skam series, where Wanda is queer and tries to survive the last year without anyone knowing about it.

Warnings: (+18), general warnings about language and violence, legal drug use, mentions of underage drinking, high school, internalized homophobia and discovery of sexuality, explicit mentions of mental disorders (bipolarity and depression), dysfunctional family, making out, and eventual smut.

Skamverse | Series | General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

Chapter Four - The Birthday

Četrtek 16:22 (Thursday 4:22 pm)

Wanda came to the conclusion that she was, undeniably, the worst person in the world. 

And while she tried not to be the worst person in the world, she attempted, at your request, to put her shit together.

You refused to stay any longer than necessary - that being, solely during history class - in her presence, and ignored all her attempts to start a casual conversation, and Wanda thinks you were right because you were expecting an apology that she had no idea how to provide. Of how to really mean it.

So she decided she wasn't going to deal with you. Or with Natasha asking why she was distant and cranky, or Pietro trying to appease things between her and her father. 

The only company Wanda was putting up with was her mother, and right now, as Natalya stroked her hair, Wanda took her attention off the sitcom on the television and ran her eyes down the screen of the laptop resting on her mother's knee near her head.

"Mama?" She called out, receiving a soft hum from the other. "Do you like your job?"

Natalya gave a soft chuckle. "Why the question?"

Wanda sighed. "Just curious."

Her mother smiled, changing the rhythm of the touching on the back of Wanda's head.

"Well, I like to write." She begins gently. "I've always liked it, ever since I was little. I like grammar, I like reading. But deadlines? Rules that shape my creativity? No, I don't like these." Wanda gets thoughtful, and Natalya takes the caress to her daughter's cheek. "I would be lying if I said I love the act of working. Waking up early, fulfilling an expedient, and answering to a boss. That is not comfortable. I wish I had been born with a great inheritance that allowed me to write just for the pleasure of writing, and the vast majority of people do too. But that's not how the world operates, sweetheart."

Wanda sighs, adjusting herself to sit beside her mother.

"What if...I wanted a job?"

Natalya is surprised but offers her a gentle smile. 

"And why is that?" She asks, and when Wanda looks down at her own lap, she reaches for her hand. "You just piqued my curiosity, dear. I have my financial limitations, but with your father's pension, we have enough so that you and Pietro can focus on your studies. I wouldn't want to think that you feel pressured-"

"It's not that." Wanda assures with a nervous laugh, shaking her head. She takes a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I love papa, I really do. But every day, we grow distant from each other's values. I don't want to live what he has planned for me. I don't want to owe or depend on his goodwill, or approval."

Natalya looks at her affectionately, bringing a hand to her face.

"Every day, you make me more proud, sladko dekle (sweet girl)." She says, and Wanda smiles shyly, leaning into her touch. She doesn't really believe it, it's not how she's been feeling, especially the last few days, but it's nice to hear.

Wanda settles into her mother's lap again, she whispers:

"Ljubim te, mama. (I love you, mama)"

Ponedeljek 18.12 (Monday 6:12 pm)

A touch on her back made Wanda jump slightly. She was distracted by the books in front of her but smiled at her mother, who was signaling for her to take off her headphones. Once Evanescence gave way to the sounds around her, Natalya spoke up:

"There's a boy downstairs." She announced gently. Wanda frowned. "Your friend, the one who skateboards."

Wanda sighed, "Oh, it's Clint." She spoke taking out her headset to put on the table. "Thanks, mama. Can you tell him I'll be right down?"

Natalya nodded, leaving the room. Wanda took one last look at the history books before looking for a sweatshirt to cover her thin pajama shirt.

Clint was sitting on the wall of her driveway, with a skateboard resting against the wall. He offered her a smile as he greeted her.

"Did something happen?" That was the first thing Wanda asked because she hadn't invited him. In fact, she hadn't invited anyone to her place since the fight she had with you weeks ago.

Clint laughs lightly. "št. (no)?"

She twitches her nose slightly at the cold air outside, hugging her own body. "I don't mean to be rude, but why are you here?"

He laughs again, half surprised. "Well, I've been your friend for 8 years now, and well, we always  planned something nice for Nat's birthday together..."

"Prekleto! (dammit)" Wanda interrupts giving herself a gentle slap on the forehead. "Yeah, Nat's birthday is coming up. Shit, what day is it today?" she quickly checks her cell phone and realizes that she barely has a week to plan something. 

Clint watches her reaction with curiosity. "Is everything okay with you, Maximoff?" He asks worriedly. "You just...man, I don't know, you’ve been acting different."

"I'm fine." She assures between teeth, moving closer to take the other side of the wall. "I just have a lot going on right now, okay? With my dad, and school."

Clint sniffles slightly because of the cold. He adjusts the cap he wears on his head and looks at Wanda.

"But that's not all, right?" he questions, and she feels her heart stop. 

Trying to play nice, she retorts, "What do you mean?"

He smiles in a corner. "Well, you've started dating, haven't you?" He says, and Wanda lets out a chuckle, practically relieved. Clint doesn't seem to notice. "I know, maybe you feel more comfortable talking to Natasha or Jennifer, since they're girls, about this but, I'm here too, okay? If Vision is being a jerk, or even if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."

Wanda smiles at him, and takes a chance:

"I think I screwed up." Wanda mutters. "And I don't know how to make things right again."

Clint frowns in curiosity, stepping away from the wall to approach her. "What happened?"

Wanda sighs, she's not ready to tell yet. All she does is shrug, and it's Clint's turn to sigh. 

"I have no way to help you without knowing what happened." He mumbles clumsily, and she gives a sad smile.

"I wasn't ready." She declares. "And now I feel like I've lost ... him."

Clint grimaces. "Vision pressured you to have sex with him? I'm going to kill-"

Wanda shakes her head, holding up her hands. "No! No! No way!" She clarifies nervously. "He was...very respectful. In fact, I was the one who initiated the whole thing. But then... I backed off and treated him badly. I think I fucked everything up."

Clint sighs, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Wanda, you didn't do anything wrong." He says seriously. "If you weren't ready, you weren't. Never feel guilty about something like that. Sex is kind of overrated anyway."

She frowns in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Clint shrugs. "It's just, the first time, it will always be messy. And awkward. It doesn't last long for the boys either." He comments with a laugh, turning his hands back to his pockets. "Vision has experience, maybe it will make it a little more fun for you, but it will likely be awkward. It's the first time, you know? It's meant to be that way." He comments. "You don't have to be so anxious about it. It's always weird for everyone. You just need to relax. When you feel ready, follow the moment, let it happen." He guides casually. "After all, you like him and he likes you, right?"

Wanda swallows dryly. "Yeah."

Clint smiles. "That's all that matters in the end." He says, taking a hand out of his pocket to pass his arm around her shoulders.

Wanda accepts the hug because she feels like she might start crying at any moment.

"Want to go to the skateboard track?" He invites still holding her. Wanda thinks about the lessons accumulated on her desk and nods in the affirmative.

–//–

Sreda 11:40 (Wednesday 11:40 am)

Wanda wasn't sure what had brought her there, but her feet practically moved by themselves. 

The college buildings were divided by subject, and classes, based on three main categories: Humanities, Science, and Technology. Other subcategories such as Mathematics, or Sports were in similar topics. 

All this meant that Wanda, who since freshman year had signed up for a curriculum focused on Medical School, had more classes in common with Natasha, and the other Med kids (as they called themselves) than with Pietro and the jocks, such as Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. The latter by coincidence had a very rich resume in Technology.

So when Wanda appeared in the Humanities building in a lab coat, half the surrounding students looked at her as if she were some kind of abnormality.

Wanda found a bathroom, put away her lab coat, and tried to stop shaking. She left the Advanced Biology class in the middle of the explanation of Human Fertilization, thinking she was going to throw up if anyone else made a sex joke next to her.

Natasha - and the teacher - believed she was having period cramps.

It did nothing to help the superficially controlled little panic attack for Wanda to realize where she was in school. Nor did it help to leave the bathroom for a hallway with a glass wall, where she could see a small outdoor antitheater, full of students practicing dances, rehearsing lines, or testing costumes.

Seeing you, dressed like a Montecchio in a plastic sword fight, giggling like a child didn't help to settle her stomach. Definitely not.

Since when did you do theater anyway?

The teacher on the stage says something to the class, and Wanda watches for who knows how long as you repeat the movements of the fake fight with your scene partner, rehearsing for what should be the end-of-the-year play.

The bell rings shortly after, and not only does the drama class scatter around, but the other rooms begin to empty out.

Still, you turn to put the swords away in a trunk, and it doesn't take you ten seconds to meet Wanda's gaze beyond the glass.

Your momentarily surprised expression becomes almost annoyed. You look away, dropping the swords and turning around, and Wanda swallows dryly, ignoring the way her heart races to advance through the crowd of students and into the glass room.

"Y/N." She calls out, but you keep putting things away, standing back. Wanda takes a deep breath to keep from crying. "Please. Can we talk? Please."

You pull the period vest out over your head, and Wanda looks away, blushing when her first thought is about the bit of skin she saw with the gesture. With an impatient sigh, you return the vest to the pile of costumes and turn to the coat hook, a few inches away from Wanda and the door.

She swallows dryly, ready to speak again when you look at her in such a cold way that she is startled.

"Stay away from me, Wanda."  You spit it out and Wanda stands static, feeling her chest tighten. She doesn't have to think about what to say, because you leave the room the next moment.

As if her day couldn't get any worse, her cell phone vibrates seconds later.

"I hear it's Romanoff's birthday on Saturday. Hope we can meet at the party, doll."- Vision.

–//–

Sobota 22:21 Saturday 10:21 pm

Excluding Wanda and Clint, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark were Natasha's closest friends. And every year, without exception, they would fight over who would host her birthday party. 

Tony was the richer one - obviously - but this did not mean that he won every time. This year, for example, Wanda learned that the boys made a gambling bet and Steve won, which later meant Wanda and Pietro taking the subway across town to the university district.

Since Steve's family was American - as were the vast majority of the families of Wanda's friends, since student exchange programs in Sokovia were very common - he lived in an apartment with other boys, mostly students from the University of Sokovia a few streets away. And because it was a sorority, Steve's parties could go until morning - especially during vacation starting periods like now - with no neighbor to call the police.

Wanda was trying to be positive tonight. 

She dressed really nicely, and put a friendly smile on her face. She met Vision with ten minutes of celebration and didn't leave his side.

Everything was fine.

"I'm gonna get us something to drink." The words left her lips before she finished thinking them. Vision looked confused at the half-full glass he was holding, but Wanda didn't care.

You had just walked into the party with Peter Parker at your side, and she thinks that if she doesn't start drinking she will start crying.

The kitchen was empty because everyone was dancing and talking around the apartment. The loud music started giving her a headache for the first time since the night began, and Wanda considered staying inside the freezer, hiding from her troubles.

"Everything okay there Maximoff?" Nat's tone was a gentle tease, and by the sudden arrival, Wanda knocked her head lightly on the freezer with fright, cursing softly.

She pulled out a bottle of beer on her way out. "Yeah, just getting a drink."

Nat hums her own beer in hand. "You and Vision seem close tonight."

She forces a smile, looking around the kitchen for a can opener. "I think so." Natasha takes a sip of her beer. Wanda finds something to open her own and celebrates softly. "I guess...I finally had the time and opportunity to date." She jokes, busy opening the lid to notice Nat's forced giggle.

"You know what you could make time for, Wanda?" Nat asks, and Wanda, who is in the middle of sipping, raises her eyebrows at her in confusion. "To apologize to Y/N."

Wanda chokes, it was less graceful than she would like, but she manages to contain the damage with the back of her hand. She returns the beer to the counter and doesn't meet Nat's gaze.

"How do you...?"

"I date her sister, Wanda." Natasha recalls as if it were obvious, "Of course, I was going to find out about it eventually."

Wanda thinks she might throw up at any moment. She swallows dryly, holding the can opener a little tightly.

"W-what Y/N said?"

Natasha rolls her eyes, sighing impatiently. She steps closer, leaving her own beer on the counter.

"You offended her in the middle of a hallway, I didn't hear about it from her." Natasha clarifies. "Carol found out first and didn't know how to mention it to me because of our friendship. And Y/N said it was no big deal. But she seemed to have turned bad again this week, and I think this story has gone too far."

Wanda lets go of the opener because she felt the grip hurt. She hugs her own body, looking at Nat. "It was a stupid argument, I didn't mean to hurt her. I didn't mean to hurt anyone." She sniffles softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's not me you have to apologize to, Maximoff." Natasha remonstrates seriously, and Wanda cringes. The redhead sighs. "Wanda, what's going on between you two, anyway? You've been acting so strange lately..."

Nat tries to touch her wrist, and Wanda jumps away, startling them both. "There's nothing. Nothing, going on between us. I'm not like that, okay?"

The redhead makes an indignant face as she understands the other's words. "Like what? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Wanda realizes the shit she spoke in the same second, and opens her mouth to apologize, only to be interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind her.

"Sorry, am I interrupting? I wanted to congratulate the birthday girl." It was Yelena, Natasha's stepsister, looking very pretty in her leather jacket. The redhead's tense posture completely unraveled, and she cast one last angry glance at Wanda before turning away to hug Yelena, leading her out of the kitchen with animated conversation.

Wanda sobbed once alone. But before she lost control of her own emotions, she takes a deep breath. And for every tear, she wanted to shed she took a sip of beer.

Until the ground became less firm at her feet.

It didn't take long before she was drunk. Not tipsy, or cheerful.

Drunk. Hard, the kind that doesn't process things very well, like seeing you making out with a girl she's never seen against a wall in the corner of the party or the kind that makes questionable decisions like grabbing Vision's hand and dragging him into the first empty room she finds.

Wanda remembers the first time she kissed someone. She was 14, and it was not a boy. Natasha stretched out a flashlight under the blanket and whispered to her that she was scared of high school. Dating seemed scary. Wanda muttered that it was probably overrated and that no one seemed very interesting. Boys were rude, and girls were mean. Sometimes they were both. Natasha chuckled against her neck and said she was going to try something.

Wanda remembers that Natasha tasted like toothpaste, and her skin was really soft. She felt no fireworks or anything like that, although, for the next few years, she developed a great unrequited crush on her best friend. No one knew, and sometimes Wanda would even keep it from herself.

Kissing Vision was different from Natasha. He grabbed his way around her, her waist, her breasts. Hard, demanding, impatient. He wouldn't let her breathe, wouldn't let her escape. And Wanda really wanted to escape.

"Fuck, are you sure about that?" He questioned breathlessly, all over her. When had Wanda made it to bed? She couldn't remember. "You taste like booze. How many beers have you had?"

"Stop talking." She demanded, grabbing his face back. He took off his jacket, and then his shirt. His skin was boiling, and not soft to the touch. Not like Natasha's. Not like yours.

Vision adjusted himself on top of her, and Wanda felt a hardness rubbing in between her legs. Her brain immediately returned to the night of the pool, your face vibrating in her mind, clear as the water around you two. She remembered the feel of your hands around her, the strong pull below her stomach, your thigh finding her middle-

A sound ripped through her throat, and it wasn't the name of the boy trying to pull her pants off.

Vision froze before pulling away, looking at Wanda as if she had slapped him. She didn't understand what happened until he spoke:

"Who the fuck is Y/N, Wanda?" He demanded in horror, sitting on his legs. "Y/N as in Danvers, Carol's sister? What the fuck, are you a dyke or something?"

The entire contents of Wanda's stomach came out at once, right in Vision's lap the next second.

He screamed, jumping away from her, indignantly cursing things she didn't understand.

The door slammed as he left for the bathroom, and Wanda lay there on the bed, her clothes crumpled, completely static.

It seemed to take forever when the door opened again. Vision was wearing a loose shirt from Steve, and he didn't close the door behind him.

"Are you really going to stand there and not talk about it?" He demanded, and Wanda went back to counting the marks on the ceiling. He sighed impatiently. "You're fucking insane, Maximoff. I've had enough of your little games. Don't call me anymore."

Wanda sat up in bed when the door slammed again and resembled a robot as she searched for a bathroom, trying not to fall on the way. She couldn't find it and ended up outside the house.

Shit, she really was very drunk.

The party was still in full swing inside, but Wanda saw some groups leaving the place. Maybe she could find a ride with one of them.

Wanda left the entrance to the garage area, and around the corner, she began to hear a heated argument.

"[...] what the fuck are you insinuating now, Parker?" It was your voice if Wanda could recognize anything in that state.

The boy laughed. "You put on that little show for me. I'm just saying it was kind of mean of you, especially since Gwen and I have history."

You chuckle indignantly. "Are you fucking with me now, huh? Putting on a show for you? Screw you if you think that was for you! I have the right to make out to whoever I want, we're done! And unlike what you think, you narcissistic bastard, neither Gwen nor I give a shit about you!"

Peter huffs loudly, closing the door of the truck as you try to open it. "Y/N, please don't act like that!" He tries, still serious, but a little calmer. "We had a fight, as usual. It doesn't have to be the end, we could still-"

"I don't love you anymore, Peter." You cut him off simply, with a completely exhausted look on your face. "How many times am I going to have to say that?"

Peter sighs, and tries to hold you but you push him away. He takes a deep breath. "You said it before and regret it. Can't you ... convince yourself of that again?"

You look at him completely offended. "Excuse me?"

Peter stutters, trying to find the right words. "I just mean, I don't know, maybe you could try-"

You push him away from you, tears in your eyes that are more of anger than anything.

"That's the damn point, Parker! If I could choose or control it, I wouldn't be a fucking disorder!"

"Y/n, sorry I shouldn't-"

"Get the fuck out of here." You cut him off. "I'm not going back with you, Peter. Never."

He snorts indignantly, turning his back on you and dashing down the driveway back into the building.

Wanda backs up against the wall as her stomach starts to rumble again, and the uncomfortable grumble she lets out catches your attention.

You find her with her head down, one hand on her belly.

"Spying on other people's conversation now, Maximoff?" You accuse angrily, and Wanda gives you a weak laugh, feeling her head spin.

"I was looking for a ride." She replies with her eyes closed, trying not to throw up again.

You let out a tired laugh. "You were going to ask some stranger to drive you home? You must be really drunk."

"I'm fine." She assures you before she starts throwing up again. 

You stepped back to avoid being hit, looking up at the apartment above and seeing that the party was still in full swing.

Pulling your cell phone from your pocket, you called Pietro. About four times, but he probably wouldn't listen in that mess. 

"Hey, Pietro, your twin is totally drunk down here. Can you come to get her?" You try a voice message, and then a text underneath with the same question because you don't think he would listen either.

Wanda is sweating a little, and you mentally curse yourself for reaching over to hold her hair while she vomits. 

With ten minutes to wait, you text Natasha about Pietro. And she replies to you that the boy wasn't upstairs.

"Stay here Wands, I'll be right back." You tell the girl leaning on the wall, which doesn't look like it was going to make any mention of moving any time soon. You walk around the block, but of the small groups that left the party to smoke or leave, but you don't recognize Pietro in any of them.

As you walk back to where you left Wanda, she has disappeared.

"Fucking excellent." You mutter ironically, and before you can despair, you recognize the figure farther up the street, as if she had decided to go home alone. With a weary sigh, you turn back to your sister's pickup truck parked nearby, and drive the car down the street, until you are driving next to a sulky and completely inebriated Wanda Maximoff. "Please get in the car."

"I don't want to be kidnapped, thank you."

You chuckle, running a hand over your face. "I promise I won't kidnap you. Just tell me where you live, and I'll take you home."

To your surprise, Wanda sniffles. "I can't go home! It's the Sabbath and I'm drunk and Mama will be so disappointed! I can't-" She started to cry really hard, and you knew she must be really drunk.

"Hey, hey, let's not go to your house then." You try to calm her down from behind the wheel, without losing attention on both the girl and the road. "Let's go to my place. You really need a bath and sleep. And then, when the sabbath is over, you can go to your place, what do you think?"

Wanda agrees with a nod, and you try not to despair at her vulnerability that second. She would do anything anyone asked, by the gods who left her alone in this state?

You stop the car, and lean in to open the passenger door. "Can you get in by yourself, princess?"

Wanda murmurs in agreement, getting into the car. She adjusts herself in the seat and closes her eyes as you put the belt around her. "Please don't try to kidnap me." She whispers, managing a soft laugh from you.

"I promise." You whisper back, and the last thing she hears before falling asleep.

[slocumjoe]

Hiiii this is my first time asking, but I love your writing! ♥

I was recently editing my FF where Hancock had to talk to Shaun about him and Sole being together (like when a step-parent has to get the green light from the kiddos, and I thought it was cute). It made me wonder...

How would you see the Companions handling this situation? Or being a "step-parent?"

Companions as step-parents

(Big distinction from having their own kid)

Cait; It takes multiple months to really figure things out with Shaun. She starts by mentioning one day, "By the way, yer ma/da and I are datin'. What do you want for dinner?" This is never brought up again. Shaun is fine, he's a smart lad. If ever asked to discipline, she's out the window and down the street. Not her kid, not her say. Cait has too many nerves to be Mean Mom. She's Fun Mom. She's Eat All This Candy Mom. She's kind of a disaster and Shaun finds her entertaining. Cait, for her part, is glad they don't have to go all sappy about it. Internally, always fretting and fussing about how she's doing as a parent. If anyone notices she quit the bottle, they can mind their own.

Curie; Long-winded discussion that bores Shaun half-to-death. She wants to talk mental health, healthy family dynamics, responsibilities...how its okay to feel what he feels, who to talk to about what, where do they go from here...Shaun nods along even if he's already adjusted to this being a reality. Curie wants to be the Model Mother with no shortcomings. Shaun just wants Curie, and Curie is already there. That's enough for him. Not many people can brag about their mom being an actual doctor with papers to prove it. (They're her Ms. Nanny 'adoption' papers.)

Danse; Similar to Curie, except Danse is freaking out, where Curie is cool as a cucumber. Danse is not a cucumber. He wants to win Shaun over so badly, but understands that kids are their own people, with opinions and shit. So, his speech is more along the lines of 'here's what to expect, and here's what is up to you.' Meanwhile Shaun is already thinking about Father's day...because Danse has been his dad from, like, minute one. You can't teach him science and garage stuff and not be Dad. That's like...first step to Being Shaun's Dad.

Deacon; would need his ass glued to a chair to keep him from trying to wrap it up prematurely. Can't stop making jokes but desperately wishes he could. Meanwhile, Shaun is Not Entirely Impressed. Deacon is a liar. He runs off. He changes his identity. Shaun isn't convinced he's not going to go get cigarettes one day and vanish. And having kids is a sore spot for Deacon. This is territory he paved over long ago. But he forces himself to take a pickaxe and start peeling back those layers, self-actualize. Shaun sees this and accepts Deacon as Dad. They go on What Trouble Can We Get Into Without Mom/Dad Finding Out adventures.

Gage; i really hope Gage can keep his temper in check here, because Shaun is not having this. Raider. Manipulative, probably also a liar, violent tendencies, lacks morals, etc etc etc. Will 100% bring up Nate/Nora. "Mom's/Dad's last partner was a war hero/civil rights lawyer. What do you do for work?" Gage might be more skittish than Deacon here. He was expected a geek kid. Not someone staring through his soul and tsking. Brings back little gadgets for Shaun as peace offerings, cleans up his act somewhat. Maybe starts cleaning himself more if Shaun comments on his hygiene. Look, he ain't running from Sole because of their, in all fairness, honest, objectively correct child. But he can't just butt heads with him all his damn life either. With enough time, Gage takes Shaun and tries to actually parent. Shows him survival tricks. How to skin an animal, fire-starting, whittling. Stuff his own family taught him. Shaun needs only a few good looks at Gage's soft side before he's on board.

Hancock; Shaun is. So torn. One hand, Hancock is fun and nice and really cares for his parent. On the other, Hancock is a chemhead from The Place Where Everyone Is High And Having Sex Constantly. He likes Hancock as a weird uncle. As a dad...hmm...he's suspicious. Is Hancock husband material? Hancock himself doesn't think so and will fully admit to Shaun "Hey, I've got shit to work on, and I'm working on it, because your mom/dad is everything to me, and we're not going to just leave you out to dry." Hancock wants Shaun to be better than him, to not feel too comfortable in places Hancock himself would call homely. Teaches him to value the freaks in the world, and his community, but understand that a fun hole six feet down is still a hole six feet down. If he ever realized he was the Rules Dad, would go on an Irresponsible Parent bender to correct. No one learns that Shaun got a flamethrower out of this until Its Too Late.

MacCready; Takes ten minutes and most of it is talking about having a brother. Raises Shaun like his own, Shaun calls him Dad the quickest. What? He's already a dad. MacCready needs no intro to parenthood. This just makes sense to everyone involved and there only hiccup is Shaun worrying about sharing a room. Not because jealousy or anything, but he has potentially flammable/electric gadgets he's working on, and Duncan is a curious boy.

Nick; Also needs no introduction beyond "Hey I know the synth thing is weird but you want mac and cheese for dinner?" This just. Makes. Sense. Honeslty, even if not romanced, Nick is still Dad. Come on. He just is. Nick himself will grapple with the horror of potentially outlining both Sole and their child, but Shaun is just excited to spend more time with his cool robot detective dad. Hey, how does your hand work? Can I see the joints? How do you smoke, can I see your lungs? Nick is the one who needs an adjustment period. Teaches Shaun snark and now no adult dare sass him.

Piper; Also no introduction. The only hiccup here is that Nat, previously Shaun's bestie, is now his aunt. And both of them are really weirded out by this. Nat isn't helping by insisting she has to start drinking wine. No, Natalie, that was just a quirk of Aunt Darcy, not a universal rule. Piper herself is Shaun's confidant, the one he goes to whenever he needs to talk. Why not Sole? Well, its just...Sole only ever responds 1 of 4 ways, and Shaun has developed a sixth sense to intuit those responses, so...when he needs someone normal, he goes to Piper. Piper is a wildcard and also, gives him candy.

Preston; I HC he's a middling child of a big, big family, with lots of relatives nearby, if not in the same house. So, Preston has this child raising shit on lock. Sits Shaun down, gives him a quick rundown of the basics, asks if he has any questions, and boom. Done. Preston would rather be a parent/guardian/trusted adult than he's going to be. Actions, not words. He's probably the most likely to sway Shaun from his science interests. Not intentionally, but its hard to look at Preston and Sole, hear their stories, and not want to follow your parents in their Minuteman ways. And if Sole leads the Institute? Shaun is set up to really change the wasteland.

X6-88; 400+ PowerPoint slide. The doors are locked. He provided refreshments. Shaun allows this because he understands that X6-88 needs this more than him. Sole might have some objections. X6-88 raises Shaun with education in mind. Shaun just keeps asking questions about what its like to be a courser. Excellent, questions like that are preludes to a brilliant mind. No one challenges Shaun to "my dad could beat your dad in a fight." Shaun, for his part, likes this killing machine fumble around domestic life. He's worse than Cait at it.

[ninesnowfang]

Miitopia and how it does AI party members well

saw a post about rare snurp and it got me thinking about the game again wahey! So it's time for another "Vivian talks about some game and its mechanics and why she likes it" Miitopia is a really special game, all of the classes are unique and useful in their own way so there's a ton of variety that everyone can go for, however there is a big difference between your main character and your party members with the sole inclusion of not being able to pick your party member's actions... to a certain degree atleast. This ends up making some classes incredibly overpowered in the hands of the player (Cat for the best damage in the game, Elf because you can just shield everyone immediately, Imp so you can let hyper sprinkled characters attack even more) while they are kinda meh to borderline garbage in the hands of the party's AI, for an extreme example party members that are a Cat will rarely use their best move, feline frenzy and instead go for their regular double hit which does atleast half of the damage that felyne frenzy would do. However this also means that the player character shouldn't neccessarily be stuck supporting the team unless you specifically allow the party to do their maximum damage, or if you know how every class' AI works, Mages in big battles will always start with barrier if they learned it and will always conserve MP if a lower tier spell is enough to finish the fight, Priests focus primarily on keeping your team alive and will prioritize reviving over healing, POPSTAR having the best revive in the game along with the hilarious utility that their relationship share gives, just to name a few. And this is where the beauty of the game really comes to shine imo, the teambuilding aspect, everyone has to use different team setups throughout the game, be it because of random sicknesses or because your teams got seperated so now you have to adjust with what you're given, and knowing what your team will do along with some neat tech like rest spot cycling and knowing the turn orders leads to healerless and sprinkleless teams being able to just, survive and win even some of the tougher fights, most notably darker lord phase 1 and 2 where by now i usually end up having a single super strong character do the fight while two other undergeared characters support *JUST* for the challenge aspect and me wanting to learn the absolute intricacies of this game. And before i end this off, a "quick" list of notable classes that work well when controlled by the AI: Warrior: it's plain and simple and 90% of the time they're hyper sprinkled anyways Thief: surprisingly good at using their optimal skills! Mage: see above Scientist: amazing at using the correct skills in a given situation Imp: They use their defense down kinda frequently but the butt poke too infrequently Princess: having access to an AoE stun is hilariously stupid, MP regen too AND good phsyiscal and magical combat that they use well enough? Elf: It's fucking elf what do you expect from the best class in the game, they tend to not use their shield reliably enough though but they use their MP heal SUPER often Miitopia is such an underrated gem of a game that i genuinely hope gets a sequel that is just as good