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demonslayedher · 1 year

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This is the Hashibira House--hear me out

I've mentioned this idea in a few posts here and there, but I'm putting it here with my nine reasons:

I think Tanjiro will ask Inosuke to inherit the family home and charcoal kiln.

Reason 1. Kanata and Sumihiko live in the city and show no ties to charcoal farming. This makes me very sad, but although they inherit Tanjiro's sword and the earrings, and although the two of them both perform Hinokami Kagura at a local shrine at New Years (Fanbook #2 Taisho Secret), they are is no mention of charcoal aside from the "sumi" in Sumihiko's name. Even then, he is the second son, so it's kind of like they forgot the family traditional when Kanata was born. Really goes to show how much they still value the old family trade that kept them working with fire, hmph!

Although Tanjiro knew the need for charcoal was decreasing (Fanbook #2 post-epilogue comic), and although he'd probably be happy to see his descendant free to be a parkouring zookeeper, that's still generations of the family trade that's been tossed out. Not that Hinokami Kagura is needed in their world anymore, but still, that sucks some of the meaning dry. So again, I am sad.

Reason 2. There is precedent for the house and its legacy to be passed around.

According to the Taisho Secret right before Chapter 191, the house was previously used by Yoriichi and "Uta." It only became the Kamado house once Suyako and Sumiyoshi came across it when it was abandoned.

It was temporarily abandoned again later on when Tanjiro had to take Nezuko and make a run for it, and despite all the care taken of it the house is already hundreds of years old, so it wouldn't be surprising if it gets abandoned again. Still sad, though.

Reason 3. Tanjiro already kind of expected he wouldn't live there long.

In the Fanbook #2 post-epilogue comic, Tanjiro mentions that even though he doesn't need to, he likes working, and he wants to leave money for everyone when he's gone.

He feels the effects of his injuries and everything else he's been through, and needs regular check-ups down at the Butterfly Mansion. Maybe he'll be fine for most of the years he has left, but what if it's a steady decline from the easily-tired point he's already found himself in? Take care of the house is going to take more and more out of him, and his children won't be old enough to take on many responsibilities before he's 25.

He's at peace with the understanding that he'll be gone someday and hopes the others will live peaceful lives without him.

We know that Kamaboko living arrangement couldn't had lasted long, though, because he and Kanao go on to have descendants together.

Reason 4. Kanao's not going to have Kaburamaru for long.

As much as I have faith in Kanao to live near-blind in the deep mountains, it's going to be a bit harder once she loses her seeing-eye snake, and Kaburamaru's already a somewhat old snake by the time she inherits him. If she's going to continue being a doctor, she may have an easier time of that staying in the Butterfly Mansion with all the resources there, and patients coming to her (a challenge to ask them to go up the mountain for her services).

Reason 5. There's someone who might do just fine without those extra conveniences and resources, for she is very resourceful.

Even though Kanao would insist the contrary, Aoi--who always called Shinobu by "-sama" and never "-neesan"--might feel Kanao has more claim to inherit the Butterfly Mansion, for Aoi was always a little hard on herself and insecure in her role as a failed Corp member. I stress again, none of this would make a difference to Kanao, who knows Shinobu cared about Aoi just as much. As much as Aoi has demonstrated her ability to run a clinic, I have just as much faith in her to run a mountain household, including handling its inevitable repairs, as well as to go make house calls around the village whenever needed.

Reason 6. Inosuke is more genki than anybody. And, more importantly, he's learned to make charcoal.

This takes us back to the comic in Fanbook #2, where Inosuke is so well-adjusted to life in the Kamaboko household that he's not only learned the charcoal trade well enough to say, "buy Inosuke-sama's charcoal," but he's also a shining star when it comes to doing chores. He's doing really well with growing up and taking on human responsibility!

He is also, however, the King of the Forest. That's his home, and even when spending long periods of time in the Butterfly Mansion, the forests call him.

Reason 7. You know who else loves nature? This dude.

Just because he wants to be alone in nature doesn't mean he grew up on Mt. Kumotori, but I do suspect he has spent a lot of time there, because that's where the blue spider lilies--the subjects of his failed research--had come from. Although we don't know how this research started and who got the flowers in the first place, the potential connection is strong.

If he wasn't raised in that house, then maybe he and his family still go out there regularly to take care of it. After all, even if they don't remember who and they're unmarked, there are important graves to show respect to and take care of there. Maybe it was on a trip like that when Aoba discovered where the blue spider lilies grow, which put him on the botany path.

You know who he apparently didn't run into? Any Kamados, as he and Sumihiko didn't meet until Aoba was unemployed and Sumihiko was scolded by the police and they were both hanging out and depressed in the park.

Reason 8. Tanjiro trusts Inosuke.

Entrusting Nezuko to Zenitsu is one thing--Zenitsu obviously would do anything to keep Nezuko safe, happy, and comfortable, but Zenitsu's heart isn't in the mountains. He's a city boy and doesn't like the inconveniences of mountain life, and clearly he doesn't show much initiative for the demands of keeping a mountain home. Tanjiro wouldn't expect this of Zenitsu, nor would he trust him with it, even if he'd trust Zenitsu with just about anything else.

In Inosuke's case, Tanjiro understands Inosuke at an intuitive level--what he needs to hear and be told, and what Inosuke's strengths are. If ever Tanjiro got the inkling that he can no longer take care of the house, or that he must prioritize taking care of his small children and partially blind wife, then he wouldn't think of anyone else but Inosuke who would be happier having that home for his own.

Inosuke sure wouldn't be happy at first, though. That house is Kamado Tanjiro's house, and he doesn't want a house without Kamado Tanjiro in it.

But Inosuke, who has never had a traditional nuclear family, might come around to the idea of being the head of his own family, and having something normal and human like this of his own.

The Hashibira house, with Inosuke the head of the Hashibira family, providing for them with his labor.

I can imagine Tanjiro would run the idea by Aoi first, who would accept the responsibility as an honor, and maybe this would come after Tanjiro and Kanao had been a married couple on their own a while in the house first. The town where the boys sell charcoal is big enough that I can see Nezuko being pretty happy settling down there where it's close both to home and more along the lines of Zenitsu's tastes, but eventually...

Reason 9. One way or another, the Kamado and Agatsuma families are both going to wind up in the heart of urban sprawl, far away from Mt. Kumotori.

It's only a question of when and why.

#kny fandom theories and meta #kamado tanjiro #kamado tanjirou #hashibira inosuke #hashibira aoba

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a-chip-in-inosukes-nichirin · 8 months

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Upper Moon Demons at the Gym

I did the Hashira already, but I wanted to explore the upper moons (plus Muzan and a few of the lower moons). If y'all wanna see the other characters (Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Genya, Tamayo, Yuichiro, etc.) let me know.

Lower Moons + Muzan

Enmu:

Does an astonishing amount of leg workouts. Only wears bulky/baggy clothing. Says milk is better than protein shakes. Will hang around the gym to gawk at other's workouts. Confuses everyone at the gym with weird personal questions while they're in the middle of sets.

Rui:

Refuses to go to the gym. If he does get dragged there by his family, he sits and watches videos on his phone. If there is a pool, he can be convinced to swim, but only in the shallow end. He will take pictures of people to make fun of them. He's been banned from one gym for this.

Muzan:

Takes private fencing lessons and only works out in the privacy of his own home as he thinks the gym is unsanitary. Will try any and every protein shake and pre-workout, obsessed with staying fit and young-looking. Takes every supplement known to man. Wears joggers and muscle shirts. Hates sweating and mostly just walks a lot on his treadmill at home, despite having several other pieces of gym equipment.

Upper Moons

Kokushibo:

Wears a sweatshirt and joggers at all times, never seems to sweat even when he is exerting himself. He prefers extracurriculars such as akido and karate but goes to the gym to supplement his classes. Thinks pre-workout and protein shakes are scams.

Douma:

Only works out enough to stay physically fit and attractive. Will make unnecessary comments to people at the gym, especially women. He always seems to weasel his way back into gyms after getting kicked out because of his smooth tongue. He spends a lot of time lounging around in the tightest shirts he can buy. Has been sponsored by workout brands for clothing and supplements for his charisma and pretty eyes. There is usually a spike in sales after Douma does a commercial or ad, so he's a highly coveted model.

Akaza:

Does a lot of calisthenics and weights. He will also sprint on treadmills but focuses on building upper and lower body muscle groups. Can do more pull-ups than any of the moons. Wears wife beaters and joggers, basketball shorts if he's going to be running on the treadmills. He's generally a good gym goer but tends to challenge other gym goers to competitions. Kyojuro is the only one who has kept up with him in a challenge. Akaza lives off of pre-workout and protein shakes. He is responsible for getting Douma kicked out of a couple gyms, and vice versa- neither of them can attend the same gym without it coming to a head eventually.

Hantengu:

Hantengu- is an old man who will go to the gym to stare at girls doing squats. He doesn't do much else, except biking on occasion.

Sekido- has gotten in trouble for slamming weights and yelling at his brothers in the gym. He spends most of his time with dumbbells and on the bench-pressing weights while grunting loudly. Only drinks pre-workout, and probably hasn't had a proper glass of water since starting at the gym. He will drag his brothers to the gym and then complain about them being there.

Karaku- is pretty well rounded at the gym, trying out new things and never really sticking to a specific plan. As long as he feels sore by the end, he doesn't care to target anything specific. He will loudly talk and conversate with other gym-goers, and there are actually a few gym employees who like chatting with him. Will eat or drink anything given to him.

Urogi- likes to do parkour and tends to enjoy cardio more than his brothers. He will also attempt to talk to other gym goers but will also nit-pick the way they workout while giving somewhat backhanded compliments. Likes pre-workout but will not drink protein shakes. Wears loose clothing like basketball shorts and oversized t-shirts.

Aizetsu- hates going to the gym and is always asking when they are leaving. He wears oversized hoodies and sweatpants, and exclusively does ellipticals and biking. He will do stretching if no one else is around. Strictly drinks water and tries to never make eye contact with anyone at the gym.

Zohakuten- Gets dragged along with his brothers to the gym even though he hates going. Thinks all of the women there are skanks no matter how they are dressed and makes no attempt to hide his contempt for others. He made a comment on Mitsuri at one point which mysteriously resulted in him accidentally eating a snack that contained peanuts and having an allergic reaction (they never found the culprit, but others have suspicions about a certain black-haired man who wears masks to the gym).

Gyokko:

Wears the weirdest clothes to the gym and is constantly muttering or having full-on conversations with himself/at people about art and the human body. He does very little exercise, stating he mainly comes to the gym for inspiration in his art. He hasn't caused any major trouble, so he hasn't been banned or kicked out, but people tend to avoid him at all costs as he gives a lot of them the creeps- men and women alike.

Daki:

She, like Mitsuri, wears cute matching sets to the gym, but they tend to be more revealing. Daki has also gotten a lot of modeling and ad contracts for workout brands, although her modeling career extends beyond the gym. Daki has been asked out no less than seventeen times while at the gym, all of which she declined. She spends a lot of time preening in the mirrors between sets, and judging people both in her head and out loud. She only drinks protein shakes that are sweet and makes Gyutaro mix them up for her.

Gyutaro:

He only attends the gym because Daki goes. His crippling self-esteem issues force him to wear dark oversized and baggy clothing. Gyutaro sticks to any machines that are inconspicuous and don't draw attention to himself. He has never once slammed his plates, afraid that it will make people look at him. The only time he is okay with people seeing him is when Daki is dealing with a persistent admirer, and she needs him to act as a physical barrier and guard dog. He will only drink energy drinks.

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literallyjusttoa · 1 year

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Ok I'm gonna post a lot more tmrw but tonight I gotta post spider people bc I watched spiderverse and I am obsessed. So! Apollo and Meg as Spiders!

Idea dump time:

Apollo has been spiderman (Tho he is known as Arachnida) for years. He has the classic spiderman backstory, and has been a solo act for as long as he's been fighting crime. Then Nero, who is also a supervillain named Imperious, experiments on his adopted step-daughter in an attempt to recreate Arachnida's powers. The experiment is successful, and Meg becomes a supervillain named Venenum.

Arachida and Venenum fight for months, and while Apollo has more experience, Meg has more raw power. She becomes his greatest challenge, and he often comes close to death whenever he battles with Imperious and his soldiers. However, things change when Apollo runs into Meg when they are both out of costume. Meg explains her situation and asks Apollo to help her escape her step-father. He does, and now the two fight back against Imperious as the duo Arachnida and The Thorned Spider.

Now some fun little headcanons!

Both Apollo and Meg were bitten by wolf spiders! Apollo by a spotted wolf spider and Meg by a rabid wolf spider. Wolf spiders actually don't make webs, and instead burrow and rush their prey. So instead of swinging around, Apollo and Meg just do EXTREME PARKOUR, and they have a haven under hell's kitchen that they use to keep track of crime in the city.

Apollo has headphones on his suit that he uses to better his hearing. When he was bit by the spider, things like his sight and touch improved greatly, but his hearing got a lot worse. This is because wolf spiders (and I think most spiders?) don't have ears, and only hear through vibrations through the ground. Airborne sounds can be hard for them to pick up. Apollo fixed this by making headphones that picked up and amplified any nearby sounds, while filtering through any unnecessary chatter. He also just listens to music a lot lol.

Meg's suit is very rudimentary, as it was all made after she left Nero's household. The only thing she kept were her gloves, which have retractable blades in them. These gloves were made for her by Lu. Meg also has goggles because unlike Apollo, her vision sucks and she hates wearing contacts.

Apollo is a huge worrywart. Despite the fact that Meg is an extremely powerful superchild, Apollo will spam her with texts the moment their separated for five minutes. Sometimes Meg just hang under roofs so that she can get a second alone.

Apollo's father is also a supervillain, but Apollo doesn't know it. Nero and Zeus have actually been working together for years, and they have some plans that will not be fun for our spider-duo ...

Meg's "Uncle Ben" moment was the death of his father. In contrast, Apollo has had a "Gwen Stacy" moment, which was the death of his boyfriend, Hyacinthus.

They are spidersiblings and awesome and kickass.

#trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #meg mccaffrey #apollart #sunny speaks #long post #au #spiderman oc #I guess lol #I'm sry I was gone for a bit spiderverse took over my life as soon as I saw it

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bippiti · 2 years

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kintsugi

kintsugi is the japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold. it treats breaking and repair as part of its history, rather than something that should be hidden

synopsis when you go searching for your cousin in london, you find yourself meeting someone you wouldn’t expect

pairing george karim x gn carlyle! reader

req yes

wc 1.6k

an i lowkey wanna make this a series so pls lmk what you think!

as you walked the cobbled streets of London, you stopped at 35 portland row. you walked up the steps and paused. you were here to see your cousin Lucy, and it wouldn't be a stretch to say you were both somewhat estranged.

after your aunt had told your mother of what Lucy had done, running away from home to who knows where she was never spoken about again. any mention of her name would have your mother sending daggers in your direction. so when you saw a boy on the news talking about a Lucy Carlyle and her talent, you knew what you were going to do.

following in her footsteps in the early hours of the morning, you collected most of your essentials in a trunk and maneuvered yourself out of your window. it took a bit of parkour to get down, but you hit the ground running.

after saving money from all the jobs you've worked, there was more than enough to get a one-way ticket to London. you couldn't go back, not that you minded that much. your mother and hers were alike in many ways. always taking what they wanted and never offering any affection in return. after all, it was better to be alone than surrounded by those who didn't care about you.

the train ride was more nerve-wracking than you expected. your mind kept on bringing up different scenarios, each worse than the last. what if she didn't want you there? what if she hated you? what if she somehow blamed you for all of it?

you were so deep in thought you almost didn't clock that the train had begun to slow, eventually halting to a stop. you stood up as your heartbeat quickened. you were here.

you made your way through the crowd, acutely aware of those who surrounded you. being pickpocketed, or worse, kidnapped, was the last thing you needed. not knowing where you were going, you stopped a guard for directions for Lockwood & co. once you had them repeat it thrice, you were on your way.

it had started to rain. you didn't notice it at first, gentle taps soon turned into harsh strikes. the muscles in your arm were burning, and you regretted bringing the trunk each step you took. your hair was soaked, your socks were soaked, but at least your coat was waterproof. once you spotted your destination, your shoulders relaxed. only a few more steps and you were there.

you were at their doorstep; her doorstep. you were here. really, actually, truly, here. your heartbeat quickened, and your hands began to wetten; the rain and sweat combined left you cold and terrified. suddenly all your fears were hitting you in full force, and you couldn't help but want to walk away; to simply become a hermit in some far-off place, never to see her or anyone else again. but before you could wallow in your misery anymore, you brought your fist to the door and knocked three times, very aggressively. probably too aggressively, but the cold had set in, and you couldn't help the shakes you were getting.

george was on the stairs, dusting the clippings that were framed on the wall. lockwood really needed to up his cleaning game. he liked cleaning though; it helped him relax. as he wiped the glass, he was in an almost meditative state, the monotony drowning out everything else around him.

that was until he heard something assaulting the front door. to call whatever he had just heard a knock would not only be a false but a totally erroneous one. already dreading who he assumed was a new customer, he envisioned some old man. entitled and rude, not willing to pay even half of what should be expected. but as he opened the door and came face to face with the visitor, he couldn't have been any more wrong. they looked like a wet cat. hair stuck to their face, the coat they had on was fighting for its life in the storm, and they were shaking so much that it looked like they were vibrating. you were intriguing

he was pretty, really pretty in fact. but after holding eye contact with this boy for an uncomfortably long time you spoke, "Is Lucy Carlyle here?"

that did the trick. his eyes lit up as he quickly ushered you inside, muttering something about you becoming ill. those mutters quickly turned into shouts as he screamed

"LUCE, COME DOWN HERE"

your head snapped up to him before looking back down. you shrugged your coat off and placed it on top of your trunk. you really eyeing freezing now. it seemed like he could tell; eyed you up and down he announced that the kettle was going on.

once you were left alone, you stood awkwardly at the entrance. messing with your hands, you thought back to when you were little.

you and luce were the same age; your mothers had thought it would be nice to have you both at the same time and live together as neighbours. after your mother moved for work, you did with her. that didn't stop you from seeing each other during break or holiday, though. not a month went by where you didn't meet up at least once.

when you were 3, you baked your first pie together; it was an apple one. lucy had picked them herself. she was awfully proud of it. while you were making the filling, she kept on adding more spices, saying it would make it “more pretty”. you put the top half of the dough on top, adding the small slits. once it was baked, your mom cut you a slice, and you nearly gagged. there was way too much cinnamon.

when you were 10, you learned how to ride bikes together. it was serious business. one day, you both decided to finally go down the big hill in your neighborhood. as you went down, you lost control and ended up scraping yourself up pretty bad. lucy held your hand as you walked back home teary-eyed, she tapped out a pattern on your shoulder to distract you when the hydrogen peroxide came into contact with your knees. you could still remember the bubbles.

when you were 15, she introduced you to her friend Norrie. you went out and picked apples together to make pie. now you could lattice it, and as an extra touch, you added some roses. as you bit into your artwork, you held back a choke. still way too much cinnamon

george’s mind raced as he set the kettle on. you were stunning, you were interesting, ugh. he had so many questions, for you, for himself, for lucy. who were you? why were you here? did you think he was cool?

he poured milk into a cup and microwaved it. he normally didn’t bother, he didn’t really know why he was doing it right now. and for a complete stranger too. but he ignored the chaos going on in his head to make the tea. it was going to be the best he’s ever made.

lockwood came from the basement to see george acting like he was on masterchef. there was no reason for him to be that into making tea, in his time knowing him he’d never seen him so into something not ghost related. so he sat down and watched the performance.

as the kettle boiled george poured it all into a saucepan, adding spices and tea leaves he swore he wouldn’t touch even if the queen herself was at their door. as it boiled even more, he took out the warm milk and added the tea to a cup. then the milk, and he was done. it was his masterpiece. as he turned around, cup in hand and jumped. he hadn’t noticed lockwood and he had really given him a fright.

hearing the sharp echo of glass breaking broke you out of your trance, you glances quickly towards the sound before hearing a voice you’ve been dying to hear for months.

“y/n?”

lucy stood atop the stairs in her heart pajamas, the ones you got for her. her hair was still dripping, but that didn’t matter as she bolted down the stairs and into your embrace.

your worries melted as her arms encompassed you. you both knew what the other wanted to say, no words needed. how’ve you been? have you been eating well? i’ve missed you. i’ve thought about you. i love you.

you pulled away from each other and smiled. how could you have ever thought she’d be upset at you?

both your heads turned as the boy with glasses came out, with another this time. lockwood, you recognized him from tv. he seemed amused while the other was grumbling on about something.

after lockwood assessed the situation quickly, he offered you his hand and introduced himself. you did the same.

you faced the other boy, his eyes didn’t meet yours as he said his name.

george karim, it had a nice ring to it. you smiled at him, and he did the same, finally bringing his eyes to look back into yours.

lockwood and lucy shot each other a knowing glance, you both were going to get along very well.

#george karim #george karim x reader #lockwood and co #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction

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inherstars · 5 months

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New Seasons | The Last of Us (5,201 words)

Joel and Ellie go on their first adventure after returning to Jackson, but the day doesn't go as planned.

They were welcomed back in Jackson with open arms. Literally. After Tommy nearly squeezed the life out of his brother, he came for Ellie next.

She’d never had an uncle, but apparently they were fucking intense.

“Ribs,” she’d gasped. Joel rubbed his own ruefully.

“Mm. Get used to it.”

There were stages to getting settled and sorted, and it all took time. The commune was still experimenting with how and when to run classes for the resident children; though it was still spring, Maria told Ellie it would be easier to simply take an early summer break than bother with the last, dwindling weeks of school.

“Spend some time exploring,” she encouraged them. “Make some friends. Get settled.”

“I think she’s probably worn out on exploring,” Joel mused. Ellie looked at him, incredulous.

“You wish, old man.” She pointed to the mountains, where stood an abandoned radio tower. “First thing I want to do is see what’s up there.”

Jackson’s borders were walled and well-fortified, although the natural topography of the surrounding area rendered large swathes of unfenced mountains safe from Infected. Manned watchtowers and regular ground patrols meant Raiders and other dangerous infiltrators were rarely seen, if ever, and just as quickly dispatched. Joel was assured that a couple pistols were more than enough defense, so long as they kept their wits about them.

He brought the rifle too, just to be safe.

On a warm morning they set out at first light, Ellie alternately following in his shadow and leading the way, parkouring off of fallen logs and limestone formations with the fearlessness of a born explorer. Joel moved at a more leisurely pace than in the past, their timetable indulgently unrushed. A safe harbor waited in the foothills below them, a lamp to call them home whenever they felt moved to return. He wasn’t interested in hurrying, anymore. He wanted to savor every single moment like a cinnamon candy.

“There’s a creek down there,” Ellie called to him from atop an inadvisably tall boulder.

“Yep. I can hear it.”

“Should we go down?”

“Let’s check out the ridge first,” he nodded her further up the trail. “We can see the whole valley from there. Might be something more interesting.”

“But we’re coming back for that creek eventually, right?”

“We’re coming back for that crick.”

Ellie had a bit more trouble climbing up to the ridge than she expected. Joel calmly outpaced her by virtue of a few good handholds and a lot of upper body strength, eventually boosting himself up and then pulling her up after him. No sooner did he get her up than she was standing way closer to the edge of the overlook than he was comfortable with.

“Careful now, Ellie. Might not be stable.”

She was already well beyond all thoughts of personal safety, gazing over the vastness of the forested valley, undulating in a spiny patchwork of green and brown. The silhouette of a great blue heron moved like a pterodactyl across the vista, a murmuration of starlings bursting apart and reforming like dynamic fireworks against the rising sun.

“Whoa. Joel, check it out.”

He joined her more conservatively, thumbs hooking into the front pockets of his jeans as he squinted into the sun.

His first mistake of the day.

There’d been indications of something internally amiss since early that morning -- otherworldly haloes around lamp light, darting shadows and smudges to his vision he mistook for things that weren’t there -- but the spindled sun rays from out the pillowed clouds drove home to him that he was in for a bad time. He turned his head too swiftly from the view, thumb and forefingers crushing his eyes shut with a grimace, and a subtle wave of nausea rolled over him and passed.

“Nice,” he grunted, pretending to wrist at his eyes. “Could get used to this view.”

“Must be cool in the fall, I bet.”

“Probably so.” He let his hand down and blinked rapidly, vision returning slowly from a brief, blotchy blackness. Not ideal, but maybe it would pass. The woods were mostly shade and shadow… if he kept cool, let Ellie take the lead, like she was always begging to…

“Looks like we’re on the right path to hit that radio tower, if that’s where you want to go next,” He said. “Eat lunch, come back down this way. We’ll be back to camp by dinner.”

“Fuck yeah,” Ellie agreed softly. Joel turned to lead the way back down, taking a knee at the ledge, but when they grasped forearms he stopped, meeting her eyes meaningfully.

“I got one rule, kiddo. You ain’t climbing that tower.”

Ellie rejected this immediately and vehemently.

“Aw, come on! What good is going to a giant, razor-sharp, questionably stable, rusty metal structure in the middle of the deep woods if I can’t climb it?”

He stared at her. She stared back.

“Half way,” she said.

“This ain’t a negotiation.”

Ellie scowled, and -- sensing victory -- Joel reinforced his grip and lowered her back down to the path below. She landed neatly, then backed up to give him room to do the same. Joel came down with a soft grunt, looking up at the ridge. Please don’t let this be a mistake.

“A’right. Let’s get goin’. Why’n’t you take the front this time.”

*******

He was doing his best.

Ellie evidently ascribed Joel’s more laborious pace to his age, overlooking the fact that he’d lifted her handily up and down from the overlook without an ounce of strain. All fine by him, he didn’t need a lot of unnecessary attention.

He kept to the shaded parts of the trail where possible, and avoided following her pointing indications as best he could, when they led up to the sun. A pulsing pain settled behind his eyes, growing gradually more intense as the morning became afternoon. Every pulse of his heart was matched by a steady, sewing-needle stab.

“Keep up,” Ellie called back every so often, with a drawl he suspected was supposed to be his.

“Ain’t that my line?”

By high noon they made it to the sun-drenched tower plateau, the structure far bigger up close than either of them anticipated. It was well overgrown with creepers and ivy at least halfway up its legs, the higher levels festooned with active bird nests. A plain cinderblock building squatted at its base, a few small details suggesting that Tommy’s people had been up at some point to investigate and clear the area. By the look of it, not for some time.

Ellie crouched to take out her notebook, eager to add some of the birds to her growing list. Joel strolled to the building, giving her room and freedom to explore. He desperately needed darkness.

“I’m gonna check out the inside.” He looked back at her and, without any elaboration, emphasized, “I mean it.”

She scribbling excitedly, barely looking up. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

The cinderblock structure was utilitarian at best, an old steel door loosely hinged and held shut only by a knot of twine. Joel waved away the glittering motes of dust as he ducked inside, quickly scouting out the spare evidence of its previous life, its most recent occupants: antique radio controls swathed in plastic, likely to keep it as dry in possible in case it could later be salvaged; a few canteens of water and an emergency blanket, presumably in case anyone found themselves in a bad spot; a little waterlogged notebook scribbled with hasty notes.

NO POWER, CAN’T CONNECT TO GRID. LEN THINKS CABLES MIGHT BE SEVERED SOMEWHERE FURTHER DOWN THE MOUNTAIN. TALK TO MARIA ABOUT SETTING UP A LOOKOUT.

He pressed his eyelids with thumb and middle finger as he shut them, rubbing them against the sewing needle stitch of pain. Another, smaller stab was trying to crack through the midline of his skull, the insides of his eyelids a black projector screen spangled with strange, fever-dream bursts of color and light.

It hadn’t been this bad in awhile. Since Boston, at least. The stress of weeks past was finally catching up with him, he supposed. With a little luck Ellie would get bored enough to turn back right after lunch and--

Scratch. Scraaaaape. Scrabble. Clunk. CLUNK. Outside, the all-too-distinct sounds of someone climbing a goddamned radio tower.

He moved like a bolt.

“Ellie, God--”

Ah, nope. There she stood, wrestling a fallen branch against a tower leg to approximate the sounds of her being a contrarian little shit. Ear-to-ear grinning, while she was at it.

“Your. Face,” she howled, dropping the branch with the purest and most infuriating joy, clapping her hands above her head. “Holy shit. That was so good. Am… am I the greatest? Never mind -- trick question. I am the greatest.”

He let all the breath out of his lungs, hands on hips, and sagged his head forward with a small shake.

“Y’know. I don’t even think I like you all that much.”

“You love me so much it freaks you out, sometimes.”

Joel leveled her a look, gauging, but she was too fabulously pleased with herself to even guess at the accuracy of her words.

“Are we done?” he asked.

“No. Look.” Ellie came closer, pointing to draw his attention further up the tower. He shied away from raising his eyes to the already too-bright sun. “I know you said no climbing, but it looks like they started to build a platform up there.”

“Yeah, there was a notebook inside, talkin’ about setting up a lookout. Don’t know how far they got, but it looks like they at least put the platform in place.”

“There’s a ladder on the other side,” she wheedled. “We could go up and check it out? Maybe have lunch up there?”

“Ellie,” he murmured, softly pained.

“Joel pleeeease? Come on, the view must be amazing.”

This poor fucking kid had been through hell and back… how could he deny her something so stupidly simple, especially after they’d come all this way. If he just… kept his head down…

“Alright. But let me go up first, make sure it’s stable.”

Tease and aggravate him though she might, Ellie nevertheless had a sincere appreciation for the small, gentle strokes of Joel’s protective stewardship. It wasn’t just about him choking people to death for her, or knifing them through the kneecap, or shooting them in the face… though all those things were pretty cool in their own stunning, horrifying way. Rather, it was the little gestures he probably thought went unnoticed: being vigilant so that she could live more freely in the moment; always remembering and reinforcing the small things that brought her joy; checking on her as she slept, brushing his fingertips softly down the window blinds so the rising sun wouldn’t disturb her.

She made a mental note to be nicer to him.

Joel summited the platform first, his bootfalls clunking and creaking as he prowled it back and forth, looking for weak spots. After a moment he appeared at the top of the ladder and steadied it for her to follow.

“Nice up here. Come on up.”

Ellie spidered the rungs, accepting a boosting hand onto the platform proper, then unconsciously mimicked his edge-to-edge prowl. Whoever built it hadn’t gotten much further than simply laying down and reinforcing the wood, but it was still new and yellow enough to suggest it hadn’t been there overlong. The view was spectacular, better even than from the lookout below, and from here they could make out the full topography of not just Jackson but much of the surrounding countryside, as well.

“Tommy needs to make this less accessible,” Joel murmured, eyes cutting across the settlement far below them. “Anybody else climbs up here that shouldn’t… they’re gonna be able to learn a lot. And fast.”

Ellie joined him, already rolling her shoulders to remove her backpack.

“Perfect spot for lunch, though, right? You ready to eat?”

The mention of food caught him unawares, and Joel paled, skin abruptly clammy. One hand braced on the tower’s metal leg, his breathing uneasy.

“Uh, you go on. Don’t think I’m hungry just yet.” He shook it off, breathing long and slow, in through the nose and out through the mouth, until it passed. He lowered himself only once Ellie got herself settled, trying to keep his gaze away from the picnic as she unpacked it.

Ellie couldn’t speak to the veracity of woman’s intuition, if in fact she was yet allowed to call herself a woman, but the overall tenor of the day had definitely shifted sideways. Joel didn’t seem annoyed by her, his manner as easy as ever, as soft-spoken and drawling as ever, but something about him was definably off.

They sat hip-to-hip, Ellie cross-legged and Joel with one leg cocked, one extended. She ate slowly as they gazed out over Jackson’s forested foothills, the sun warm on their backs, the wind cool and light, scented with cedar.

Joel breathed with a heaviness that troubled her, as if minding each slow fill and release of air from his lungs. She looked over to find his eyes closed, face gray.

“Joel?”

“Hm?” His eyes cracked, head turning slightly toward her, eyes squinted even more than the sun seemed to demand.

“You OK?”

“Yeah. Just resting my eyes.” He nodded at her pack, an easy distraction. “Get any new birds?”

With excited recall Ellie dug out her notebook.

“Oh yeah. Check it out…” She pinned it open on the platform between them, revealing an assortment of decently identifiable birds detailed with crayon-stub spot colors. Joel hummed and scratched absently at his beard.

“You got a question mark there, that’s not a blue jay?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what it was. It was really dark, like indigo blue. So cool.”

“Stellar’s jay,” he supplied. She leaned over, quickly scribbling that alongside the drawing. When she sat back he indicated another one with a tapping index finger. “And this one. Yellow?”

“Yelluh,” she echoed his drawl with a grin. He smirked. “Yeah, uhh… and… I didn’t have a crayon for it, but the head was, like… super bright orange?”

“Mm. That’s, ah… tanager. Western, I think? Western tanager.”

She bent again, notating. Underneath it she wrote the word yelluh, and underlined it.

“Don’t be making fun of the Texas color wheel.” He sighed again, slow and deep, and pressed his thumb against a closed eye. “A’right. Oughta pack up. Start heading back.”

Ellie pushed to hands and knees, then into a crouch, gathering and stow the trappings of lunch as Joel tiredly climbed to his feet.

“Can we just walk around a little bit more? The path keeps going up into the woods.”

“Kiddo, I really don’t know if I…” Joel stopped halfway to his feet, swaying, and lurched to catch his balance on the tower leg. Everything swayed, vision spangling. He clutched the metal with the awful certainty he was about to be sick all over the brush below.

“Joel--!”

Ellie snatched for him, catching the canvas of his pack in both hands, barely anchoring him back from the edge. He clutched the metal and breathed through his nose with trembling effort, shaking in every muscle. Don’t be sick in front of the kid, he willed himself, eyes clenching shut. Ellie’s voice was close, strained with fear.

“Joel??”

“I’m… I’m alright… it’s fine.” Little by little it ebbed, the queasiness easing, lifting. He groped blindly backward to find her hand, squeezing it. “I’m fine.”

“That’s complete bullshit, you’re obviously not fine.” She clutched to his hand until he slowly turned, eyes reopening, still with that pained squint. “You’re white. What’s the matter with you? Are you sick?”

“No. Well. It’s a migraine,” he explained. “You know what I mean by that?”

“Like a… like a headache?”

“That’s part of it.” He straightened, Ellie transferring her grip to his pack strap, fearful he might pitch off the platform without her to hold him in place. “Felt it coming on this morning. Doubled up on coffee… caffeine sometimes helps, but. Not this time.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Didn’t want to worry you. Didn’t think it would get this bad. I get nauseous. See things, sometimes. The light’s rough on my eyes.”

Ellie reluctantly released him, head shaking.

“Can you walk, or--”

“I can walk,” he agreed, gentle. “But I’d just as soon head back home before this gets worse.”

Ellie’s mind filled with klaxons of alarm.

“Gets worse? Joel, you almost vomited and fell off a radio tower. How much worse is it going to get?”

He crossed the platform to the waiting ladder, resting a hand on it ruefully.

“Won’t know until it does.” He paused to squinted back at her. “I’ll make it up to you, Ellie. We’ll come back and follow the trail up as far as you like. Maybe… bring a tent. Make a couple days of it.”

She regarded him anxiously, stepping forward to steady the ladder as he climbed down.

“Just don’t die on the way back, old man,” she murmured, but her heart was barely in the jibe. “You’re like… old tech. Impossible to replace.”

He issued a soft snort, smiling as his head bent to watch the rungs beneath him.

“Don’t you get all soft on me now.”

*******

It was hard for Ellie to conceptualize what Joel meant by things like “bad” or “worse”, because the metaphoric litmus test she had for his physical pain and discomfort was already completely saturated with blood.

There were no subtle gradients, everything was just red.

It didn’t help that he hated revealing weakness of any kind. The same man who so gently fixed her bedroom window blinds would just as soon knot a bandage with a tug of teeth, then conveniently forget to mention he’d been stabbed.

Whatever discomfort he allowed to show, he had to be feeling worlds worse.

Once again Joel let her take the lead, navigating through a pained squint. Ellie checked back on him frequently, dispirited by his pallor, the slouch of his shoulders. It would do no good at all to ask him how he was holding up, so she didn’t try, but now and then he mustered a small, tight smile as a means of reassuring her. Not that it did much good.

After one particularly troubled glance back he issued a low, roughshod laugh.

“You reminded me of Sarah just now.”

Ellie pressed on, unwilling to have their return delayed. “How’d I do that?”

“She used to look at me just like that.”

“I was looking at you funny?”

“Not funny. Just…in a way. Can’t put a name to it, exactly.”

“Pretty sure that’s how you look at someone when you’re worried about them.” She glanced back.

“No reason to be worried.”

Ellie faced forward, muttering under her breath, “...says you.”

“Hm?”

“Okay, so… what did Sarah used to do when you would get these migraines?”

He marched on, thinking, dividing his attention between the girl in his past and the one literally and figuratively leading him now. It was only recently he’d been able to genuinely think back on his daughter with something other than crippling grief. It was as if Ellie had shined and polished a window to an earlier time, allowing him a clearer view.

“Well,” he sighed. “Not much to be done, even then. Still had to go to work. Fortunately, I don’t get them too often. But. I’d come home at night and she’d… bring me a compress. We’d sit awhile. Listen to music, on account of it being hard on my eyes to watch TV. Some people have trouble with noise, for me it was light. Music actually helps, don’t know why. Good distraction, maybe. She’d just sit with me and trace shapes on my arm, make me figure out what they were.”

Ellie stayed uncharacteristically quiet as they followed the final leg of the trail and, combined with Joel’s own worn silence, it made for a slightly melancholy end to the day.

Or so Joe perceived it, suspecting with guilty discomfort that he might have crossed a line, comparing Ellie to Sarah. More to the point, comparing her once too often. He tried to reason that it wasn’t a competition, he certainly wasn’t candling Ellie against the brightness of Sarah’s memory and judging her worthy or otherwise…. but how could explain that? What words did he have to convey how humbled, how grateful he was to be able to pair together two souls that changed him so profoundly for the better?

When they arrived at the house, boots and sneakers clomping wearily to the porch, Joel finally let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Ellie, can I… Listen, I want to talk to you about something.”

“Can we maybe talk later,” she hedged. “I need to go run and do some things real quick.” When this gave him pause, she promised, “They kinda’ can’t wait.”

Softer, suddenly feeling his age, he nodded her on. He took her pack as she shrugged from it.

“Go on, then. It’ll keep.”

Joel tried not to beat himself up about it. He stood on the porch, watching her thunder down the stairs and take off along the street, jogging into the early twilight as if she was just a regular kid in some safe suburban neighborhood. Off to find her friends, ride a bike, have an adventure. To find her way in the world. And ultimately, wasn’t that the best possible thing he could wish for her? It’s what he wished for Sarah, too: to grow up, to spread wings, to live life.

One of them might actually get to do it.

He had reason to be glad. He’d just… think on that for awhile.

Joel unloaded both their packs to the hooks by the door, replacing the pistols, the rifle, making sure all were loaded and ready. He refilled her water bottle and stuck another protein bar into the pocket inside. Readied water in the coffee pot for the next morning, though nothing short of a miracle would make 20-year-old coffee taste better than swill.

With the house empty of Ellie’s presence -- her absurd, abstract observations and laughter, her vibrancy -- he retired to the sanctuary of his bedroom. A hot shower helped relax some of the muscles he’d been unconsciously clenching in pain all day, and he spent a long time leaning on his folded arms, forehead pressed to the cool tile, trying to mitigate the icepick stabbing behind his eyes.

When the hot water ran out he shunted it regretfully, heaving out a breath, and fumbled his way through the titanic effort of drying off, changing into dry clothes, feeling his way out into the dark bedroom. It occurred to him, as he did, that someone had gently brushed shut his windowblinds.

He couldn’t have been more surprised to see Ellie waiting on the edge of his bed.

“Thought you went out, kiddo,” he roughed softly.

“I did. You must have been in there longer than you thought.”

“Yeah, but I figured… well. I’m glad you’re back. Where’d you go?”

“Had to get some things.” She stood, crossing to his dresser, where sat a beaten cardboard box. The only evidence of its contents was something bright pink and plastic, poking into view, but Ellie began digging around before he could identify it. He sat slowly, and she came to him with a glass jar.

“Hold out your hand.”

He did, and she dipped two fingers into the jar, transferring to his palm a lump of something gold and coated in grains of sugar.

“For your stomach,” she volunteered. “Tommy said candied ginger might help.”

He rolled it between thumb and forefinger like a die, then paused.

“You went to see Tommy?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t know who else to ask for help.”

Joel palmed it onto his tongue, letting the crystals dissolve slowly to the ginger’s faint, underlying burn. He chewed, nodding at her approvingly.

“Got a whole box full of those, did you?”

“Not exactly. Next…” She returned to the box, this time fishing out a pink cassette deck radio and a handful of tapes, still in their original cases. She sorted through them with a soft click-tick-click of plastic. “For your listening pleasure, we’ve got… Avril… La…vig-nee?”

He hunched forward, elbows on knees, faintly smiling.

“Pass.”

“Mmmm… how about…Spice Girls?”

“Hard pass.”

“Tough crowd. Okay. Uh… this one just says Road Trip Mix, and it’s all written by hand.”

Joel grunted. “That’ll be the one.”

More staccato clicking as she fumbled it from the case and tucked it into the player. As the first song filtered through the softly crackling speakers she checked the list carefully folded inside.

“So the first song is--”

“That’s Simple Man. Lynyrd Skynyrd.”

“Wow, that is not at all how I thought that would be pronounced.” She tucked the play list into her pocket for later reference, then doubled back to the box. “And finally…ta-da!”

Ellie turned back around, presenting an enameled bowl in one hand and a washcloth in the other. Joel didn’t say anything, just gazed at her with her proffered gifts and massaged his mouth in one hand. He was smiling, so she knew he couldn’t be upset, but he also look pained. Ellie laughed, wagging both bowl and washcloth. “What!?”

“Nothin’,” he murmured, but his voice was gritty and tight with emotion. “Just. Feeling better.”

“It’s just me being the greatest again. Like I do.”

“Like you do.”

Ellie filled the bowl with cold water at his bathroom sink, then returned to finish bossing him around. At her direction he reclined to propped pillows, one leg comfortably cocked, and lay still as she soaked, and folded, and laid the damp compress across his closed eyes.

While Joel lay there, one hand behind his head and the other at rest comfortably on his chest, Ellie mounted the bed on his right side, near enough that he could feel her presence. Little by little she eased down, head on the pillow beside his, staring up a the cracked plaster of the ceiling,

“You ever going to sing for me, or what,” she asked eventually. A breath came out through his nose.

“We’ll see. Been a long while since I tried.”

"You don't even sing in the shower? Who doesn’t sing in the shower?"

"Usually a little too grateful just to be clean."

A moment of silence, and the next song began. Ellie fumbled in her pocket for the notes.

“This one is… wait, try to guess.”

“Guess?” Incredulity. “Ellie, it’s Hotel California. The Eagles.”

She checked the notes like a Trivial Pursuit card.

"...Man, you're good."

His laugh was rasped as sandpaper. "You're throwing me slow balls, kiddo."

Joel knew this song even better than the last, the foot of his bent leg tapping absently along. The hand at ease on his chest moved as well, rough fingers curling, changing positions, curling again, familiar in their pattern.

Ellie asked suddenly, "Did you ever teach Sarah how to play guitar?"

His head turned toward her, but when the compress began to slip she pushed his temple away with a forefinger until it was squared on the pillow again. He adjusted and fixed it more firmly in place over his eyes.

"Ellie... what I wanted to talk to you about before..."

"Yeah?"

"Is it…” He sighed. “Does it bother you, when I talk about Sarah?" Sensing her surprise, he amended, "I don't want you to think I'm... holding you up to some kind of standard. Or… comparing you in a way that diminishes who you are."

"No,” Ellie blurted. “I like it. I like hearing about her. Believe it or not -- and don't expect me to ever admit this out loud again -- I actually like hearing you talk about the stuff you think is worth talking about. You're not exactly an idle bullshit kind of guy."

Joel exhaled, restful. "Suppose that's fair. And... good to know."

Ellie watched the hand at his chest resume its rhythmic positioning and repositioning in time with the music.

"So, did you? Teach her guitar? Sing for her?"

"Sing for her? Sure. When she was a baby. Spent so many nights carrying that girl back and forth across the living room, damn near wore a hole. I expect she knew a couple albums worth of music by the time she could sleep through the night. And I got her one of those little pink plastic Barbie guitars when she got old enough, but. She just never took a shine to it."

Impulsively Ellie reached out, touching his hand as he formed one of the now-familiar gestures. Joel startled and stopped, but blindly let her inspect the pose of his hand and inexpertly mimic it with her own. He groped over the positioning of her fingers and smirked.

He said, "Nope.”

“No?”

“Wrong chord. That's an A sharp. Here. C’mere."

She inched in sideways and, once she was near enough, Joel looped his arm around her. He extended her left arm across his chest like the neck of a guitar. She laughed, eliciting another quick grin from him before he concentrated on going through the song’s chord progressions on her wrist and forearm. The calluses of his fingers pressed the tendons like steel strings.

"Like this. G. D. F sharp. B minor. G. D. E minor. F sharp..."

Ellie’s face fell slightly as he played.

"Wait. Hang on. How many chords are there?”

Joel hummed and let her take her arm back, transferring the fretting hand behind his head.

“Well. You can learn three chords and be able to fake your way through a hell of a lot of songs, but if you want to do it right -- and you do want to do it right -- altogether there’s… probably upwards of three hundred or so.”

“Three hundred?”

“On the conservative side.”

“How the hell do you remember all those?"

“Muscle memory, mostly. Ain’t saying it’s easy. You’re gonna spend a long time being a really shitty guitar player, but you just keep at it. It comes, in time.”

Hotel California ended, and after a grainy pause something else started. Another one Ellie couldn’t identify, and she was growing too sleepy to bother reaching for the list.

“Joel?”

“That’s James Taylor. Fire and Rain. Whoever made this was on some kind of soul-searching road trip.”

“We could teach him a thing or two”

He huffed, bemused. “Suppose we could.”

But it was nice. Pretty. Less sonorous than Simple Man, less haunting and provocative than Hotel California. Judging by the stillness of Joel’s hand on his chest, even he was more caught up listening than playing phantom chords. Ellie’s eyes grew heavy, and she grew tired of fighting their weight.

“Can I lay here for awhile?”

“Long as you like, kiddo.”

“If I fall asleep--”

The arm around her shoulders curled her lightly closer, then relaxed. “I’ll try not to wake you.”

Ellie turned her cheek against the inside of his arm, letting her eyes shut, the back of her hand aligned with his palm. His fingers closed lightly overtop, breath easy, and the music played on.

#the last of us #tlou #last of us #Joel miller #my writing

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 4 months

Text

IOU. - OC Story

pairing: OC!Victoria "Whiskey" Callahan x MootOC!Valkyrie (platonic) extra: Victoria "Whiskey" Callahan x Simon "Ghost" Riley words: 1.6k~ cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, torture and bodily harm (descriptive!), kidnapping, forced starvation, injuries, blood, use of weapons, thoughts of death/dying.

June 4th, 2021. Beirut, Lebanon 1156 hours.

"Valkyrie."

"Watcher."

"Where are you?"

"Currently getting falafel in a nice little food stand."

"So you're free?"

"Depending on the price, I might be."

"No government funds this time, Val."

"So you're paying for this out of pocket? How generous of you."

"Wiring you 25 now."

"Copy that. It just came in. Where's the target?"

"That's what I need you to figure out. One of my assets went dark in Turkmenistan."

"When do I leave?"

"Now."

"...Can I finish my lunch first?"

June 4th, 2021. Ashgabat, Turkmenistan. 2147 hours.

Val crouches down on the tiled rooftop, still warm from the sun that had shined down on it for nearly 16 hours straight during the day, their flashlight illuminating the path that indicated a scuffle, more than a few broken tiles, a few of them displaying bullet holes.

In their ear, an earpiece relayed the audio file that Laswell had sent, a voice they recognized very well coming through. The last comm Whiskey was able to send in before they went dark.

"WATCHER, COPY GODDAMN IT!"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST... THIS IS WHISKEY IN THE BLIND, IF ANYONE COPIES, PLEASE RESPOND."

She was out of breath, her voice uneven and loud, a clear sign that she was not just on the run, but definitely being shot at, if the loud bangs between the static of the lack of commands was any indication.

"MY LOCATION HAS BEEN COMPROMISED... ATTEMPTING EXFIL ON FOOT... CURRENTLY BEING PURSUIED... ENGAGING HOSTILES."

"SOUTHEAST BOUND... OUTNUMBERED... AND UNARMED... NEED NEAREST SAFEHOUSE LOCATION."

Valkyrie could hear the panic in the American's voice with each word she said. Val could almost picture it, each step she took, each rustle of clothes, each jump and vault she performed over the rooftops trying to make it across, as she was chased.

Restarting the audio, they started following the steps they assumed Whiskey took, through the broken tiles and gunshot holes, parkouring and vaulting walls and roofs, southeast bound, just like the American likely would've...

And the audio finished just at the same time as Val spotted it.

"AHHHHHHHHH! FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!"

A large bloodstain on the tile beneath their feet, an attempt at dragging herself away, before being caught, and lifted, the blood splattering as someone carried her off.

Looking around, Val's eyes fixed on the street across the building, both their hands coming to rest on their hips. "Now what?" They murmured under their breath.

June 8th, 2021. Darvaza, Turkmenistan. 0303 hours.

She didn't know how long it had been.

The only sign that time was going by was whenever she'd pass out from exhaustion and dehydration, only to wake up again with a bucket of water being poured atop her, or a cheek-bruising slap being delivered to her face.

It had been a while since she found herself in this situation... and it might have been the delirium setting in, but she couldn't help but feel that she was rusty.

She used to be able to withstand torture sessions much more easily. If they could catch her, that is. She used to see enemies coming much easier than she did this time.

Hell, had Simon really softened her up so much? Or was she just getting old?

Not to say she had gotten weak, or stupid. She hadn't. She had followed procedure and kept her mouth shut. She had told them little else than her full name, her service number and her birthday.

Anything else they wanted? They might as well kill her because she wouldn't speak.

But she had to admit that it was getting to her. She didn't know when it started becoming too much, but it had.

Maybe it was how stuffy and hot the bunker was, in the middle of the stupid desert, God how she hated the summer and the heat...

Maybe it was the waterboarding.

Maybe it was the nail pulling.

Maybe the finger breaking.

Maybe the punches to the stomach until she was puking.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep.

Maybe the barely sutured GSW to the upper right thigh, which, sure they had sewn up, to keep her alive for long enough to interrogate, but that was just about where their hospitality ended, because they didn't provide any pain killers and left it to fester, still in her bloody clothes.

Maybe it was the sensory nightmare that was the sweat slicking her skin, and, oh, how soaked her compression leggings were, sticking to the sensitive skin on her legs.

Maybe it was when they hung her upside down for long, endless minutes, hoping the blood rushing down to her head, coupled with the lack of food, with create a cocktail of dizziness that would make her talk.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was when they tossed her on the back of a jeep and drove her out to the dunes in the desert and left her out there for what must have been multiple hours, under the scorching sun, feeling the sand burn against her face, her mouth gagged with cloth and hogtied like a pig, only to come collect her after a few hours, when she already had blisters of a nasty sunburn forming on the back of her neck, lower back and hands, after she had succeeded in rolling herself onto her stomach to protect her face and neck.

She barely registered the sound of gunshots outside the room, barely awake and shivering, running the nastiest fever of her fucking life, her head hanging low as she was tied to a chair in a room that might as well have been a furnace, baking under the hot sun and sand for the whole day.

The moment the lock is opened, Whiskey raised her head, her hair hanging over her eyes, her eyes squinting, trying to make out the shape at the door, but her eyes were too hazy and her head was throbbing.

"Back for more?" She used the last of her strength to taunt her kidnappers, like she had been for the entire time of her captivity.

She might have been worn down and at the end of her rope, but she'd go down her way... By being an absolute cunt until they put a bullet in her head to end her once and for all.

And when they disposed of her body somewhere in the desert, it wouldn't take long for them to be buried beside her. She knew Simon would make sure of it.

Simon... God, she missed him. What a terrible fucking start to their marriage. She was pretty sure this was not what a honeymoon in the desert is meant to look like.

"Holy shit, you look like crap." Was not the answer she expected, followed by the ropes binding her to the chair to be loosened.

Val knelt by Whiskey's feet, looking up at the brunette with knitted brows and compassionate brown eyes. "You alright?"

Valkyrie. Huh... Seemed like Laswell actually sent someone. Whiskey was starting to wonder if she'd just be considered a loss and left to rot here.

"Took your sweet time..." Whiskey croaked out, causing Val to chuckle and shake their head, their hands quickly undoing the restraints that kept her feet bound to the chair.

"Yeah, well, had to stop and sightsee a little bit, do all the touristy things... You know how it is." Valkyrie replied as they shifted their weight around and helped comb the hair off Whiskey's face. "Can you walk?"

Whiskey gulped a bit, dryly, and nodded, though, really, it was anyone's guess if she really had enough strength to make it from the chair to the door, let alone outside or to town or... god knows where they were.

Using her bloodied hands, she pushed herself up to her feet, wobbling violently from a mix of being light-headed and having been shot in the leg days ago, which caused Val's gloved hands to shoot forward to help stabilize her.

Whiskey knew better than to bat them off, especially now, when she knew she needed help. So, she wrapped an arm around Val's shoulders, and shifted her weight around on her leg.

"Thought you said you could walk?" Valkyrie teased a bit, causing Whiskey to groan and shoot them a look of pure rage.

"Shut..." The American grunted. "Just get me out of here..."

"Alright... Alright... Jeez, tough crowd." Val quipped as they began helping Whiskey out of the room and down the corridor. "You know, whatever you get paid for this, I hope you know it isn't enough to warrant going through torture..."

"Shut up and walk... or so help me God..." Whiskey grumbled.

June 8th, 2021. Tidworth, England. 1218 hours.

Val watched how the door to the helo was slid open, a couple of doctors and medics on the other side, already scrambling to help transfer Whiskey to a wheelchair, to take her in for further examination.

The doctors over at Izmir Air Station in Turkey, to which Val had taken Whiskey per Laswell's orders, had done little else than stabilize her and get her hydrated, fed and on medication, before transport was arranged back to England.

But they worried, of course they did. She was in a sorry fucking state... Even if she was alive and doing better than when Val first found her.

"Wait." She groaned at the doctors and raised her head to look at Val, beckoning them closer. "C'mere."

Val approached, only to have Whiskey's hand reach out to bring them close, allowing the American to whisper in their ear.

At first, they didn't know what was being said to them, just a string of nonsensical numbers that seemed to have no rhyme or reason...

Only for, as she pulled away, Whiskey to add:

"I owe you. Call me if you need anything."

for @superhero-landing because our OCs are basically ebsties from this point forth.

#ikea writes 💚#oc: victoria “whiskey” callahan #cod oc #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #simon riley deserves good things #moots oc #oc: valkyrie #🔪 anon #call of duty oc #ocs #oc x oc #angst #tw torture #tw graphic injuries #tw injury

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choicesmc · 3 months

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pls tell me how sawtooth got each and every one of their scars

with much pleasure <3

HEAD

one across the edge of their left eye shaving incident. Was trying to sculpt their eyebrows and ended up cutting himself instead D:

another across his nose from a knife fight.

a short one behind his ear to the base of their head fight w/a teacher. He grabbed them by their ear and the nails cut into their skin.

TORSO

Wraps around from lower back (think lumbar vertebrae section) and stops just beneath his tummy (<- also known as the laceration that made sawtooth thankful they got a tetanus shot <3)

parkour injury. Turns out doing parkour in rickety buildings during twilight/night because you wanted to show off some body paint isn’t actually a good idea. Though, everything was good one their way up said rickety building. But on their way across, did a roll and ended up with a screw (wood screw size 11) one of these bad boys vv

But then they attempted to curl in on themself on instinct (<- bad idea) and ended up dragging the screw through his skin 😬

anyway, that didn’t stop them from finishing the course before going to the hospital so :D solid 6/10 for an injury

ARMS + HANDS

Not a scar but has sprained their left wrist D: also a parkour injury. But this one was when he was still new and was training in a gym, kept blowing off proper form and all that so their instructor wasn’t all that surprised when they finally sprained it…

Crush injury on two of his right fingers (pinkie + ring) from having a heavy door slammed on them

another fight with a teacher. When they were ~12/13, their gym teacher refused to let him get this water bottle after a run. All students are supposed to bring their water bottles with them because no student is allowed in the changing rooms unless its the first 10 minutes or last 10 minutes of class (<- designated changing times for students). But Sawtooth forgot theirs in their locker and decides ‘fuck it, you’re not gonna stop me from drinking water’ This is post- ‘bit classmate in his last middle school and got expelled for it’ incident (yes, yes, ill find a shorter name for it) and so his gym teacher is fully ready to stand her ground and shuts Sawtooth inside the locker room

Obviously, Sawtooth is not gonna just let that happen. Their tiny middle school self is trying to pry open these large metal doors while their gym teacher is pulling them back closed. Sawtooth manages to create a small opening and tries to grab onto the side of the door for a better grip… which lets the gym teacher get the upper hand and… well. Fingers in the wrong spot at the wrong time. Sawtooth gives a glass-shattering shriek and 911 is immediately called.

LEGS + FEET

Large healed over serious abrasion on their left knee (covers the entirety of their knee)

from his elementary school. Basically: their elementary school had an entire section (where the 7/8 - 8/9 year olds had their classes) of the building which is made of temporary buildings (<- called t-buildings for short). They look like this vv

But the t-buildings are honestly just a permanent part of the school even though they absolutely were never meant to stay around this long. Anyway, notice how the ramp is metal + has ridges (like in the picture below, its a little clearer but not extremely clear but best I could find) <- this is important.

Now please imagine a dark and stormy school day and a 8 year old who desperately needs to pee and is racing up these ramps because his elementary school dignity requires him to not pee his pants.

And then they slip.

And slip down the ridged metal railing.

All the way from the top to the bottom.

Really, their left leg took a majority of the damage. It was badly scrapped from knee to just above their ankle (thanks to his socks…) also, doesn’t really matter, but they did not make it to the bathroom in time either.

So imagine an 8 year old limping (really dragging a leg tbh) back to class, very much out of breath from pain, through heavy rain and absolutely trying not to cry with every step. <- or don’t, not sure how much emotional damage that’ll inflict, actually.

It ended up getting infected (which was another headache) but yeah :/ <- 3/10 not a great experience

Avulsion wound on his big toe <- does not like talking about this one, actually. But here’s what happened: fight with his neighbor’s dog. The dog was always a bit trigger happy and Sawtooth’s never been one to shy from danger of all things. He ended up teasing the dog the one day, it didn’t have a leash on and it jumped the fence and started fighting him 💀 Ended up almost ripping their big toe off.

Abrasion on achilles tendon <3 -> bad shoes that were just a pinch too tight that they refused to stop wearing. Everytime they took ‘em off, there was a new blister. Then he walked around with those shoes all day and the result was very red and not pretty.

Puncture wound on their heel (<- which he has also sprained) <- stepped on a nail. The sprain was unrelated, just parkour stuff.

#asks answered #sawtooth #tiny tidbits #this was fun <3

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roamingtigress · 1 year

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Yet more observations playing Dutch in Red Dead Online (I couldn't find something for today's Yeehawgust prompt so you'll be hearing another one of my hopefully coherent ramblings on the mustache):

-He doesn't just turn and run, he often does this over the shoulder and looks at you and does his kinda awkward u-turn thing before breaking into his run. You're a dude, not a deer, silly. It's a bit of breaking the fourth wall with eye contact, watch-my-back sort of thing which is cool. I feel he did do this in Storymode with Arthur but trying to remember what chapter/scene. It's actually a bit hard to 'steer' him into running because of this and he's been hit by a wagon.

-He can get SCRAPPY if there are players melee'ing nearby and if they happen to jump into him, he'll join in on them. While realistic It's EMBARASSING and I try to pull him out of it fast. Gets EXCITED and REACTIVE and SHOUTY in crowds. Maybe he just DOESN'T DO CROWDS. Much like me, so no judgement

-Seemingly random things will cause him to unholster; such as sudden swerving of the wagons. A wagon going by too fast. A passing NPC got startled by this and shot his hat off. It's a bit EMBARASSING around other players.

-He seems to have a limp? The left leg seems to have a tendency to just really swing over his right; really noticeable when watching him from behind (which I see most of him that way so it really sticks out to me), I have seen him do this in Storymode as well. I'm trying to get good shot at it.

-Most awkward parkour participant in the West. The grace of an elephant. I need to do a photoshoot of it and video if I can find a good, easy program for capturing the action. He lands like an octopus falling out of a tree.

-His coding seems that they've made him camp centric; his stamina/health will drain even when he's in the saddle and I feed him dozens of the stuff. Once I return him to camp for a bit, he'll be good to go after a refresh. If he's been away for camp for some time (or if I haven't used the Wilderness Camp), I'll be prompted to REST him.

-99.9% sure I caught him DOZING IN THE SADDLE until Sienna shook and woke him up. That was cute.

-HE PLAYS WITH THE REINS LIKE WE USED TO (OR STILL DO) WITH THE TELEPHONE CORD. You just know he twirls his hair like that too.

-Because he doesn't have a satchel, EVERYTHING GOES IN HIS PANTS or PANTS POCKET or GUN BELT. Imagine having 30 pieces of beef, 10 frogs, 10 squirrels idk how many fish, all in your pocket. Or pants. And Dutch wonders why wolves come out in droves when he steps out of camp.

Hosea has a different rein holding STYLE. Dutch holds his hands closer together on the reins, Hosea holds his hands out further.

I highly recommend the experience if you want to play a character that needs some maintenance and care and adult supervision, doesn't care about the waypoint to their destination but the journey, and don't mind being kept on their feet :) I love documenting and sharing these bits of detail and what he gets up to!

#rdr2 #red dead redemption II #dutch van der linde #dutch #hosea matthews #vandermatthews #red dead online #rdo #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption II online #red dead redemption 2 online #red dead photograhy

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zafirosreverie · 2 years

Text

Today (Ellie x F!Reader)

for @roseclear (forgive me, Nikki)

part 1

__________________________

“Please tell me that’s not Y/N”

“That’s Y/N”

“What is she doing?!”

"Trying to give me a heart attack, that's what she's doing"

You rolled your eyes fondly at Ian's comment and wished you could return the sarcasm, even though deep down you knew the man was completely terrified, just like you. A part of you was screaming, begging you to go back to them and be safe, but the rest of you knew it was too late.

You didn't know when your body made the decision, definitely before your own mind, but in the blink of an eye, you went from running towards the plane to running away from a Giganotosaurus whose attention was totally on you.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea, and it went against every survival instinct you had, but at least it would give the others time to escape. You didn't want to admit that the only thing on your mind was getting a certain blonde out of there alive.

"Y/N, come back here this instant!"

You looked over your shoulder at Alan, watching as he and Ian tried to contain a very distraught Ellie. It broke your soul to see the tears running down her face, and you knew that no matter what happened to you, this would be material of new nightmares for the blonde.

You felt guilty about it. You knew better than anyone how much the memory of Jurassic Park still haunted the woman, you had woken countless times in the middle of the night to go comfort her, take her in your arms and remind her that she was safe, that it was all over.

And now here you were, repeating history. Somehow, you knew that the resulting nightmares this time would not be about the terror the dinosaurs might cause her, but about you, about losing you again. You had promised her that someday you would forgive her, but now, you weren't even sure that you would live for tomorrow.

"Y/N!! Y/N!!"

"Get out of here!" you shouted

"Not without you, little tadpole!"

You smiled sadly at Ian's nickname and swore that if you made it out of this, you were going to come up with the cheesiest, most horrible nickname you could for him. You gasped as you dodged the flaming locusts that kept falling from the sky, as well as the falling debris all around you, there was no doubt that the place was going to come crashing down at any moment.

"Y/N! I swear if you don't come back here right now-" Ellie yelled, still trying to get out of Alan's grasp.

"There is no case, we have to get on the plane, now" he said

"I'm not leaving her here!"

"We won't" Ian reassured her "But we all know how stubborn she can be"

"I heard you!" you shouted, without looking at them

"I know you did, princess!" the mathematician laughed "Thank goodness you can take advantage of those parkour classes"

"Remind me to sign you up for the next course! You could use some exercise, old man" you smiled.

Ellie and Alan frowned at each other in confusion. Neither of them could understand how you and Ian were capable of making jokes in a situation like this. There was a fucking dinosaur behind you trying to eat you goddamn it! They supposed it was the magic of having lived together for so long.

Not for the first time, the blonde's stomach turned with guilt for leaving you the way she did, but at least she was grateful that, unlike herself, the two men next to her had been there for you, picking up the pieces of what she had broken.

As Ellie was lost in her thoughts, Alan noticed how the other man made subtle signs with his eyes and the tips of his fingers. He understood at that moment that it was the opportunity to get the woman in his arms out of there because there was no way she would leave without you of her own free will, not this time. Just when he was about to take the blonde and run with her in his arms to the plane, a second roar seemed to stop time.

Despite the imminent danger behind you, you stopped short when you heard it. You turned around quickly, noticing that the giga's attention was no longer on you, but on Rexy, the T-rex. Damn overdeveloped lizards!

"Being in the middle of two territorial carnivores was not part of the plan" you whispered to yourself.

However, you didn't have time to think about it before the two giants challenged each other, slowly encircling your friends. You barely managed to react before they let themselves go against each other with all their fury and strength.

You jumped to avoid Rexy's tail and rolled on the ground before you noticed the group split up and run in different directions. You jumped up to run after them, hoping the new distraction would be enough to allow you all to get out of there.

In the distance, you could see Ian, Alan, and Ellie helping Dr. Wu up and onto the plane, and you felt a kind of overwhelming relief, knowing that the three people you cared about the most had already made it. It's not that you didn't care about the girl (Maisie? Maia? You were bad with names) and her parents, you just didn't know them like your three idiots

You gasped audibly as the giganotosaurus threw Rexy with all its strength against one of the walls, causing her to fall on top of the rest of the group. Good thing there was a huge rock that allowed them to get under it without being crushed.

You sighed with relief and began to slowly approach, but at that moment you could see how the weight of the gig crushing the body of the T-rex began to buckle the structure, threatening to crush the girl and her family.

"Ellie, no!"

You looked in the direction of Alan's voice, feeling your heart stop as you realized that the blonde was heading straight for them, catching the dinosaur's attention. It all happened so fast from that point that your mind couldn't keep up with it all.

You ran to them too, the girl (Kayla? Leyla?), shot a flare to distract the giga, the Therizinosaurus growling, the others were able to get out and run to the plane, and Ellie dodged them. It took you a moment to realize that she had run to you, not them.

"We have to leave this place!" you heard Owen (Oswald? Damn, you had to work your prosopagnosia) yell as they all climbed up.

Everyone except you.

The moment you felt Ellie's arms around you, you knew that "someday" had to become "today." You felt it seconds before it happened, and you smiled at the irony. A lifetime wasn't enough to forget her, but a few seconds were all you needed to tell her...tell her-

"Ellie Sattler" you whispered "you were the most beautiful thing life gave me, and I'm so sorry for the years I spent pretending your ghost didn't haunt me"

"Y/N what-" she looked at you with confusion.

"I'm sorry" you interrupted her "but I can't let this happen without telling you that…I forgive you, and I love you, I still do"

"Maybe it's not the time" she said, but she smiled anyway.

"It's the only one I have" you smiled sadly "forgive me if I turn into nightmares today, I didn't mean to, I just want you to be happy, and I hope that one day, my memory will bring a smile to your face and not tears"

"W-what are you talking about?" she frowned.

You caressed her cheek gently, trying to find comfort in her warmth. You could feel how time seemed to resume little by little, and you knew it was now or never. Without letting her react, you kissed her as if it were the first time, although in reality, it was the last, you tried to put in that kiss all the love that you had repressed for years.

Ellie could barely register the feel of your lips on hers when your hands went to her hips and you pushed her with all your strength, sending her away from you. She didn't even feel the pain in her back from landing on the ground, all she could do was watch, in slow motion, as you smiled at her and murmured something, before the giga's tail threw a wall on top of you.

"Y/N!"

In a second, you had vanished in front of her, just when her body began to harbor hope, when her soul felt the warmth of yours again. She didn't even register Ian grabbing her waist and forcing her onto the plane, nor Alan's yelling or Maisie's crying. She couldn't see or hear anything, she could only feel her heart dying with you.

________________________

Tears fell down her cheeks as she looked up at the cold tombstone that had your name carved on it. It was a lie, she knew, because the search and rescue teams had never been able to find your body, but having a place to grieve was the only comfort she and the boys could find.

She no longer knew how many calls she had missed, how long it had been without seeing her son, or how many interviews she had denied (was it too much to ask for a moment alone to cry, damn it?!), the days seemed the same, as if time would have stopped and she wouldn't have really left the valley.

She supposed it made sense, she had died at the same time as you, and no matter how much time passed or how much help Ian and Alan gave her (which wasn't much, they were both totally devastated by your death too), Ellie knew that, as long as she was alive, there wouldn't be a night that she wouldn't dream of you, with those last words that you had murmured to her and that she had tattooed on her soul.

"Today was all we had"

#reader insert #x reader #ellie sattler x reader #ellie sattler imagine #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie sattler #jurassic park #jurassic park x reader #jurassic park fic #jurassic world #jurassic park imagine #jurassic world imagine #jp imagine #jw dominion

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