#so like I don’t think anything wild is going on

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 37: Pieces

Mitchum sends you to where he wants you as Joel questions Cody. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-36 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and several steps beyond that. Fairly graphic torture (not of reader.) Mention of past sexual assault, not described. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 6k

A/N: As with the last chapter, I want to state, real quick, that Bambi is NOT going to be sexually assaulted again. This is a highly triggering subject and, given the situation she's in, I understand if folks are bracing for it. That's not going to happen. The threat of it is there but it's not going to happen.

We are into the final arc of Yearling and we are going to see some TLOU 2 OVERLAP again. There isn't any this chapter but there will be in this arc and here's how: a character from that game will be mentioned as will the spoiler-y incident from a few chapters ago. What happens plot wise in this arc is completely separate from the game and entirely original content BUT there is that character overlap and more specific mentions of the incident and the motives behind it. This character returns THIS CHAPTER. If you're trying to go in blind to season 2, it might be wise to step back. Feel free to send me a DM, I'm happy to answer any and all questions!

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter

They were talking about you like you weren’t there. 

You’d been used to that once but it had been a long time since you’d been just a thing, separate from that life about as long as you’d suffered it. You had forgotten just how much you hated this part of being a prisoner. You’d internalized so many of the more acute horrors that the smaller things had slipped away, but the change from human being to livestock was sharp. You didn’t have much in you to fight against anything - still barely able to stand - but it seemed what little there was faded quickly just listening to the men talk about you as though you were some unruly animal. 

“Take her back to the main camp,” Mitchum said, taking your arm and turning you around so he could look you over. “She’s good on a horse, don’t let her near the reins. Don’t be stupid enough to think this one won’t take off just because she’s down some fingers, she’s a feral thing. That fucking moron… Get her there and don’t fuck her, understand? She’s mine and I gotta make sure she’s broken in right. Been wild too long, gonna have to start from scratch.” 

He took your chin in his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his own. 

“Gonna bring you back where you belong,” he said. “I tamed you once, I can do it again.” 

You didn’t say anything, all your energy going in to keeping yourself standing. You tried to think about something, anything, beyond how close Mitchum was to you again, every alarm bell your body had ringing. Where his fingers were on you burned and your heart raced, the blood loss and fear making your head spin.

The only thing that could be worse than being this close to him again was Savvy and Ellie being this close to him. The thought that you’d saved them from this was a small comfort. You hoped they made it back. You had to believe they made it. You weren’t sure you’d have the strength to keep going otherwise. They made it, they made it back to Jackson, they were safe there. 

But the men were talking about Jackson, too. Like it was something they could take. What’s worse, they sounded confident that they could do it. It was something that had seemed impossible when you were within the walls, everything so strong and permanent. How could the will of men destroy something like that? But now that you were here, back in the grip of what terrified you, it didn’t seem so impossible anymore. Jackson was just people, too. Good people, strong people who had decided to survive and work and love alongside each other but people all the same. It doesn’t take some act of God to destroy a person, just one other, determined person can do the job. 

You couldn’t handle considering that, not when the only things in the world that mattered were dependent on Jackson to be safe. You had to believe that Jackson could withstand whatever came its way, that Ellie and Savvy had made it back, that they would be safe within its walls and would never have to face men like Mitchum and Cody again. They made it, they made it back to Jackson and they were safe. The whole city was.

You thought it over and over again in your head, a mantra of sorts, as they brought you to a horse and forced you on its back. You were too out of it to grab the reins immediately, a man mounting up in front of you before you could think twice about taking control of the animal. 

“Better not try anything back there if you know what’s good for you,” the man snapped before making the horse move. You just tried to stay upright and tried to think of ways to escape once you were strong enough to run. You had to resist the urge to try now, every nerve in your body on fire and driving you to run or fight. But you couldn’t. You’d never survive a fight right now and you’d only be able to walk a mile - maybe two - before you’d collapse and then they’d have you again. You needed to save your strength or you’d never get out. 

You tried to remind yourself that you’d done all this before. You’d survived what they did to you and made it out. You’d lived and built a life and found your daughter and protected what mattered. You’d done it once, you could do it again. You just had to survive. 

You focused on the people that you wanted to survive for - Savvy and Ellie and Joel and Maria and Tommy and William and Julie and and and - and tried to settle into the sway of the horse as it walked.

Time was strange like this, pulling and warping. It seemed like it was dark longer than it should have been when the sun started to rise and then, when the men stopped for a break, the sun seemed higher than it should have been. You drank water when it was offered. You watched for a chance to steal a horse - the only way you thought you’d be able to make it far in that moment - but didn’t get one. 

The light hadn’t yet taken on the soft, hazy quality of evening when you reached where you were headed. It was an unfamiliar place, a small subdivision - maybe two dozen houses total - with mountains at its back. There was a guarded perimeter, men in cowboy hats who gave the men you were with a nod as they rode in. 

They brought you to the center of the neighborhood, to a house that was small but looked to be in good repair, two men stationed outside. 

“Down,” the man you were riding with ordered. You obeyed, sliding off the horse and stumbling, head spinning. He dismounted more smoothly before grabbing you by the collar of your shirt - Joel’s shirt - and hauled you for the door, one of the guards meeting him there. He took a padlock off the front door before opening it and shoving you inside, past a small living room with a sunken sofa and a kitchen with counters covered in a thick layer of dust. He forced you down a hall to a bedroom. You were almost positive it had been a little girl’s room once but it had been stripped of all forms of childish comfort. There were two twin sized mattresses on the floor, tucked into corners on opposite pink walls. There had been carpet once, you were sure, but it had been pulled up, just the plywood below remaining. There was a bucket at the foot of each bed and some drywall had been pulled away near each bed, exposing the frame of the walls, chains wrapped around a stud near either bed. 

“On the bed,” the man ordered, shoving you toward it and making you stumble. You more fell onto the mattress than sat on it but it didn’t seem to make a difference. He approached you and you went to kick him, not about to let him just take what he wanted without a fight, but he caught your boot, giving you a sharp shake when he did. “Just making sure you don’t run. Sit still or this will hurt a lot more than it needs to.” 

He pulled your boot off before you had a chance to respond and tossed it near the door before picking up the chain. It was thick and heavy, no cuff on the end. He wrapped it around your ankle, tight enough that it cut into your flesh a little, and put a padlock through the loops to hold it in place. He gave it a testing pull and it didn’t budge. He nodded. 

“Recommend you rest while you can,” he said, dropping your leg. “Mitchum’s back in a day or two, don’t imagine you’ll have much while he’s here.” 

He turned to leave and you looked to the other mattress. There was a smear of blood near the chain that was still bright red, like it hadn’t dried yet. There was someone else who had been here, someone recently. The door closed and locked and you stretched out on the bed, trying to force your body and mind to still enough that you could rest. 

It didn’t work very well. You faded in and out of consciousness for a while - you weren’t entirely sure how long but you were fairly certain night had fallen. The window in the room was covered with yellowed newspaper but you were pretty sure you’d seen light coming through it earlier in the day. It was dark now. 

It took you a moment to realize what had pulled you back to consciousness. There was a scuffle outside your door, the sound of someone being wrestled inside. You shot up, scrambling to find something you might be able to use as a weapon but came up empty, the room stripped of anything that could be a tool and your mind still working slowly. You were still down a lot of blood. 

The door opened and you braced yourself to claw and bite but the man there paid you no mind. Instead, he shoved a tall, broad young woman in, one with a blonde fishtail braid that hung down her back. Something inside you twinged at the sight of her, a distant alarm bell ringing. She was familiar, you couldn’t see her face but you knew her. You could feel it.

The man forced her onto the opposite mattress and all but threw the chain around her ankle before locking it into place. 

“If you’re fuckin’ smart, you’ll behave yourself,” the man backed away from her, panting for breath with a cut on his cheek. “If you weren’t one of Mitchum’s favorite toys, I’d kill you myself.” 

“Fuck you,” she spat, lifting her head from the mattress, her teeth bared in a snarl. Your breath caught, the fingers from your intact hand groping for the chain attached to your ankle, your best hope for a weapon. 

You did know this woman - almost more of a girl in spite of her size and strength, she couldn’t be much older than Ellie and definitely young enough to be your daughter. You didn’t know her name or where she was from or why she had tried to murder your husband but you knew her, knew how she looked when she was filled with rage and desperate to kill a man. Knew how she looked as she beat Joel until he was bloody and half dead. Your grip on the chain tightened. 

The man left and you weren’t sure if the two of them had said anything else, the high pitched whine that had taken over your ears only just beginning to fade. 

She seemed to notice you then, straining to sit up, her eyes wide at first but narrowing when she reached your face. 

She recognized you, too. 

“You,” she was still panting for breath, leaning against the wall at her back, sneering at you. Watching you. “I should have known they’d find some other fucking way to torture me.” 

You watched her back, ready to defend yourself in case she made a move. 

“I could have said the same thing about you.” 

***

Joel wasn’t aware of much. 

There were gunshots but they were of little consequence. The screams didn’t register, either. Neither did the sweat on his neck or the pain in his back or the pull in his leg that had been there ever since he was shot by the girl who wanted him dead. 

He could feel your blood on his hands, though, and the feel of your fingers in his pocket and hear the thud of his heart and he could see. He could see Cody on his horse but he could see how you’d been afraid of him, too. That day in the stable when Joel held you and you were so scared you could barely stay standing. He could see how it would have happened, how this man would have cut away pieces of you. How scared you would have been, how you would have fought anyway, how you would have screamed. 

All Joel really knew in that moment was that he needed to hurt this man. He needed to take every ounce of pain from his body until there was nothing else left inside of him and he needed him to know, as he died, that he was dying for you. 

Cody tried to dodge Joel as he threw himself at him, the horse stutter stepping away as Cody tried to pull it back while also grabbing his gun. But he wasn’t fast enough, Joel’s hands closing around the edges of the man’s jacket as he yanked him to the ground, Cody’s gun flying into the trees. 

But Cody was not a small man and his thrashing weight threw Joel off balance, the two of them sprawling to the forest floor. Cody was younger and more agile and got to his feet first, pulling his knife free from his belt, lunging for Joel. But Joel was ready for him, kicking him in the gut so hard that it knocked the wind out of him and sent him stumbling back. He got to his feet, too, Cody leaning against a tree, knife out as he caught his breath. 

“You’re not gonna get her back,” he panted, a sneer on his face as he watched Joel. “She’s with him now and he’s not gonna let her go so easy this time. And when he’s done with her, don’t think you’ll even want her back.” 

There was commotion at Joel’s back but it barely registered. 

“I should have fucking killed you when I had the chance,” Joel said, watching him closely. “She was too good to you. She’s always been better than anyone left fuckin’ deserved, least of all you.” 

“And she should’ve known what I gave her when I let her go,” he said, standing up a little straighter now, breath caught. “Instead of being an ungrateful cunt.” 

Joel roared and threw himself at Cody, the other man striking out at him with his knife. He nicked Joel’s shoulder with the blade but he barely noticed it, the blow not really hurting so much as being filed away as information, things he would need to contend with at some point when Cody’s blood was cold on the ground. 

Joel threw a punch, catching Cody on the jaw and he stumbled for a moment before lunging at Joel, striking out with the knife again but falling short and following up with a clumsy fist after. Joel caught his hand and twisted it, the other man giving a sharp yelp. Joel liked the sound, the evidence of his pain soothing the gnawing desperation inside him. 

But his satisfaction was short lived, the knife slamming into Joel’s shoulder making him seize up for a moment. He was aware that it should hurt, that there was metal inside him now that didn’t belong, but all it did was bring everything into sharper focus. This knife was probably the one that had drawn your blood, too. It seemed right that he should suffer it with you after he’d failed at doing what he’d vowed to do. 

The split second of the shock of the stab passed quickly and Joel drove Cody back into the tree, slamming his back into the trunk of it and knocking the air out of him, his head hitting the bark with a sickening thud. Joel didn’t relent. Instead, he punched him across the face, one arm holding the man in place as he hit him again and again. 

This satisfaction held longer. Cody’s fingers scramble and clawed at Joel, trying to find purchase somewhere they could pull him away from his singular mission but that was impossible. Joel’s physical body didn’t matter to him anymore, not without you, and every small hurt was swallowed by the drive to destroy. 

“Joel!” Tommy’s arm looped around Joel’s neck, pulling him back from Cody who slipped down the tree trunk, his hands limp on the blood coated leaves, his chest still rising and falling, eyes blinking as he stared into space. Joel strained to pull away from Tommy’s grip but his brother held him firm as he panted for breath. “Joel, you can’t kill him yet, we need information. We kept one of the others alive but we need information or we’ll never find her. He’s alive, we need him to stay a live a little longer.” 

Joel slumped forward in Tommy’s grip and his hold on him loosened, starting to feel his body again. His knuckles hurt and were slick with blood. Joel wasn’t sure how much was Cody’s and how much was his own. There was a sharp, stabbing pain in his shoulder and he reached back with his other arm, flinching as he did, before taking hold of the knife and pulling the blade free. He heard Tommy wince as he did and Joel brought the weapon around in front of him, holding it up for a moment. His blood was slick over half the blade, the edge serrated. 

“You cut off my wife’s fingers with this?” Joel panted, squatting down to be on Cody’s level, holding the knife up. His own voice sounded odd to him, so normal when everything was so wrong. 

“Wait, what?” Ellie stalked over to him and Joel glanced up at her. There was a cut on her cheek and her eyes were wide. Joel turned back to Cody and reached into his pocket, gently pulling your fingers free before setting them on Cody’s stomach. “Motherfucker!” 

Joel barely registered the sound of Tommy wrestling Ellie away, too focused on the man in front of him to worry about anything else. 

“Did you cut off my wife’s fingers with this?” Joel said again, voice flat. 

Cody struggled to swallow and Joel took hold of his jaw, yanking his head around so he was looking right at him. 

“Answer the question.” 

Cody blinked a few times before taking a shaky breath. 

“Yes.” 

There was a rattle in his voice and blood on his teeth. 

“Good.” 

Joel took the knife and thrust it into his thigh, just over his knee. Cody screamed and squirmed uselessly under him and Joel waited, keeping constant pressure down on the blade, giving him no relief. 

As he quieted - gasping for breath, eyes wide and bloodshot - Joel pulled the knife from his leg and wiped the blood on his jeans. 

“Gonna hurt you like you hurt her,” he said, picking up Cody’s hand from the ground. He started trying to pull it away, heavy breaths shifting to hyperventilation, but Joel held firm, forcing the hand down to the man’s thigh. “What, you afraid of me usin’ your knife the way you do? That it? Can’t be that bad, can it?” 

“No,” he panted. “No, please, I’ll give you whatever you want, I’ll…” 

Joel lined the blade up with the smallest knuckle on Cody’s pinky and cut through it in one devastating push, the man screaming and writhing and trying to pull his hand into his chest to comfort himself but Joel didn’t let him. 

“You’ll give me what I want?” Joel asked, putting the knife at the next joint down. “But what if what I want is my wife? What if what I want is your pain, hm? You give me that?” 

He cut again, the blade meeting more resistance this time. Joel pushed through it, the knife cutting through the denim of his jeans on the other side of his hand as he screamed again. Cody closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree and Joel resisted the urge to beat his face in. He had to leave him alive for a little while longer. 

And besides, he couldn’t take more pain from him if he was dead. 

“No, you don’t get to fuckin’ pass out on me,” Joel stabbed the knife through his hand, pinning it to his thigh before grabbing his hair by the fistful, bringing his head forward so it was only inches from Joel’s own. He could smell the blood on his skin, clearly see the trails of salt on his cheeks. “You get to be awake for this. Doubt you ever let her pass out, did you? Not about to do you any favors. Now, you focus on me, understand?” 

Cody managed a nod. Joel dragged the blade through is palm, between the webbing of his fingers, cutting a path through the delicate bones of his hand and the thick muscle of his thigh as Cody begged and screamed. The wound at Joel’s shoulder ached. He couldn’t bring himself to care about either thing. 

He held Cody’s hand in place again and gave him a second to quiet and catch his breath before lining the knife up at the base of his pinky. 

“Please,” he panted, eyes so desperate as they met Joel’s. “Please, I can’t…” 

“Can’t what?” Joel asked, brows raised. “Can’t survive what you did to her?” 

Joel cut, separating the bloody remains of the finger from Cody’s hand and casting it aside. Cody’s screams were growing hoarse and Joel ground his teeth. He still needed answers from him and he needed to be able to talk for that. 

He pulled the knife away, holding it firmly and watching as the other man caught his breath. 

“I can make this easier,” Joel said after a moment. “You tell me where she is? I kill you. Quick. Maybe not painless but not as bad as this. You’re not leavin’ here alive. Should have killed you in Jackson months ago. Hell, should have fucking found you years ago and killed you then but I didn’t. Not about to let you go again. But it’s up to you if how I kill you is for you or for me, if it’s fast or if it’s slow.”

“I…” the wet rattle of Cody’s breath was sharper now. “I can’t… I can’t trust you to do it quick…” 

“Yes you can,” Joel said. “You tell me where my wife is? I’m gonna go get her. Not gonna want to waste more time here with you. It’ll be quick if you just tell me.” 

Cody’s eyes searched Joel’s for a moment, like he would find some kind of answer in them. Joel didn’t need to see his reflection to know that the only thing Cody would find in his gaze was the hollow, desperate pain of your loss. There wasn’t anything else left in him to see. 

“I traded her,” he said. “To Mitchum. Met… met him about 10 miles north east of here but he won’t still be there. I don’t think he’d keep her with him - he never did before, always… always had her at his base…” 

“And where’s that,” Joel asked when he trailed off. Cody’s neck went limp and Joel grabbed his chin again, giving him a sharp shake and forcing his eyes to spring open. “Stay with me, focus right here. Where is Mitchum’s base? Where would he take her?” 

“Little spot,” he panted. “Just… a bunch of houses, don’t know if it’s got a name…” 

“Tommy!” Joel called without even glancing back at him. “Need a map.” 

It took a few seconds before Tommy appeared, handing Joel a wrinkled and worn map. 

“Point to where it is on this map,” Joel said, releasing his bloody, four fingered hand. “Your buddy over there know where it is?” Cody nodded, shaky, once. “Good. You point where it is. He’d better point to the same goddamn spot.”

He handed the map back to Tommy and kept Cody in his sights, watching as his skin grew pale and his head listless and limp. There was a scuffle and scream behind him, loud enough that Cody shocked back to full consciousness with it. 

“Sounds like your friend don’t know what’s good for him,” Joel said, taking Cody’s bloodied hand and forcing it to his thigh again. “Or what’s good for you.” 

“No,” he shook his head, his eyes so wide. “No, please!” 

“Tell him to cooperate,” Joel said. 

“Do what he says!” Cody screamed. “Just do it, please!” 

Joel pressed the knife to the base of his ring finger and cut. He was almost surprised at how easy it was to force the blade through the bone and sinew. He could barely feel the strain of it as Cody screamed below him. The knife sank a bit into his leg as it cut through the last of the skin and Joel picked the finger up, holding it in front of Cody’s crying eyes. 

“She scream like you?” Joel asked, turning the piece of his captive slowly before them both, the wet of his blood catching the light like the fractures in the glass of his watch. “You like hearin’ it like I like hearin’ you?” 

“Please,” Cody managed, voice ragged and hoarse.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, lowering the severed finger but keeping it firmly in his grip. “You already took her, already were handing her over to that… animal. Why’d you need to hurt her, too.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Joel thrust the knife into his upper thigh, inches shy of the man’s crotch and he gasped, mouth open in a silent scream. He was wearing out, inching closer and closer to death. 

“Don’t give a shit about your sorry,” Joel said. “Why. Tell me.” 

He gave Cody a second to start to recover from the pain before twisting the knife, making him seize again. 

“Tell me.” 

“She tried to run!” He sobbed, collapsing back down again. “She… she tried to run, killed two of my men. And she never… never appreciated what I did for her then…” 

Joel just nodded slowly. You’d been able to try to run, at least before Cody took your fingers. You weren’t so scared that you couldn’t move, weren’t so beaten that you couldn’t run. That was a good sign. You were a survivor. He had to remember that. You’d survived before. You would now, too. You would still be alive for him to find, for him to save, and he would save you. If it was the last thing he did, he would save you.

“Joel,” Tommy was at his side and it was quiet at his back. “Same spot.” 

“Good,” Joel said. He carefully picked your fingers up from where they’d fallen in the leaves at Cody’s side and tucked them away in his pocket again before getting to his feet. Ellie was at his side, her rifle in her hands. 

“I want to hurt him,” she said, her voice flat. 

Joel looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since they’d found Cody. There was a darkness in her eyes that terrified him in its familiarity. It was the look she’d had for a split second when he’d found her after David had taken her from him. It was sharp and vicious and demanding and Joel wasn’t sure she knew how to come back from it. 

“Will hurtin’ him help you?” Joel asked as gently as he could. She looked up at him, that sharp look still in her eyes. 

“He hurt my mother,” she said, a hint of barely contained rage on her face. “I need to make him pay.” 

He considered her for a second, trying to think clearly as he looked at the young woman who had once been the girl he’d shepherded across the country. In so many ways, she was still that little girl, one who he’d protected and failed at protecting, one who he had saved and had led to her near demise.

Would this be any worse than anything she had already suffered? Would it hurt her any worse than the things that Joel had allowed on his watch before, when he hadn’t been good enough to take care of her the way she deserved? Would it be, somehow, any more terrible because he allowed it? 

Ellie was so like him in so many ways, ways that terrified him when he thought about it. There was a passion in her that so easily bloomed into rage and he knew what it was to keep that stifled and smothered. He knew, too, what it was to take it out on another human being, even one who deserved it. 

He adjusted his grip on the knife and held the handle out to her. She went to take it but he pulled it back for a moment. 

“Can’t kill him,” Joel said. “Understand?” 

“Joel…” Tommy said at his back, but Joel just held out his empty hand, silencing him. 

“Understand?” He repeated, watching Ellie closely. 

She hesitated a moment, watching him back with those sharp, dark eyes. 

“I understand,” she said, taking the knife from him and turning to Cody. She cocked her head, examining him cooly. 

“Please,” the man whispered, looking up at her. 

“Which fingers did he take?” Ellie asked, not looking back at Joel. 

“Outside two,” Joel said, a twinge in his chest as he said it. “Her wedding ring with ‘em.” 

Ellie nodded, her grip tightening on the knife before lowering her knee to pin Cody’s wrist of his intact hand to the ground. 

“I told you I was gonna fucking kill you,” she said, her voice dangerous as the man tried weakly to pull his arm away from her. “My dad told me not to do that. But I am going to make you fucking pay.” 

She slammed the knife into his hand with a sharp, angry cry, more hacking at him than cutting, striking him again and again until she was splattered with blood and Cody had screamed himself to silence. Joel’s stomach twisted at the sight of it, the satisfaction at knowing Cody’s agony twinged with an ache of his own at the sound of Ellie’s pained scream. 

“If you’re just gonna let her fuckin’…” Tommy snapped, nudging Joel roughly to the side and stepping around him to wrap his arms around Ellie from behind, forcing her to still. She quieted then, no longer screaming and just sobbing instead. “It’s OK baby girl. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up…” 

“No!” She tried to shake him loose but he held firm. “I want him to hurt! I want to make him hurt, I want him fucking dead, he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve to live, he doesn’t…” 

“I know,” Tommy said gently. “I know. But you hear him? He’s passed out, you’re not gonna make him regret this any more than he already does and Joel’s gonna finish him. He’s not gonna live, OK? He’s paid for it, he’s hurt for it, it’s OK baby girl.” 

The knife slipped from her hold then, lying beside the mangled flesh and bone that had once been Cody’s hand. His pinky and ring fingers were completely gone. 

“C’mon,” Tommy said again. “Gonna get you cleaned up, let Joel finish the job, then we’ll get movin’. You’re OK.” 

He pulled her gently to her feet and gave Joel a deadly look as he passed, Ellie gathered against his side as he led her away. 

Joel knelt and picked up the knife, every inch of it splattered in blood now. He didn’t care. He took Cody’s chin in his hand and gave his head a sharp shake and the man gave a sharp gasp before trying to cough but choked on his own blood instead, his eyes opening slowly. He couldn’t even lift his head now, his eyes the only thing it seemed he could really move. 

“Wanted you to be awake for this,” Joel said, his voice a deadly calm. “Wanted to make sure you felt it. Wanted to be sure you knew why you were dying.”

Joel thrust the knife into Cody’s side, burying it fully between two ribs and twisting it there. His eyes went wide and his body thrashed as much as it could but it was a useless endeavor. He started gasping for breath, the gurgling sound of him starting to drown in his own blood overwhelming the sound of the woods around them as Joel pulled the knife from his side. 

“You could have lived, you know,” Joel continued. “Could have spent the rest of your years anywhere but Jackson, never would have looked for you. She asked me not to look for you, to just leave you alive. Felt like she owed you somethin’. Maybe she thought you’d been a good man once, long time ago. But you and me, we know the truth. You were never a good man, never had it in you to be good. You didn’t deserve her mercy so you ain’t gettin’ mine.”

“You…” he gasped and choked. “Promised…” 

“Promised what?” He asked. “To make it quick for you?” 

He didn’t give Cody a chance to respond. Joel just shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

He thrust the knife in between the same ribs on the other side, twisting it and pulling it free before wiping the worst of the blood on Cody’s pants and getting back to his feet. He put his hand in his pocket, the one that held the pieces of you. He traced your wedding band with his thumb, feeling your cold skin below his touch. How many times had this flesh laced with his? How many times had it tangled in his hair or squeezed his arm or touched his cheek? 

He held it himself now, trying to keep the pieces of you warm as Cody drowned in his own blood. His dying breaths were harsh and rasping and desperate, the last gasp of his mortality clinging to this life as though there was anything but pain to be found for him here. As if there was anything he deserved beyond pain. Just before the light left his eyes, Joel picked Cody’s fingers up off the ground and opened his mouth, forcing them inside. He stood back again, watching as he tried to take two quick, shallow breaths around them before going completely still. 

“Joel,” Tommy said from behind him. 

Joel looked down at Cody’s body for a moment longer. This man had hurt you, raped you, taken you. He was dead now, at Joel’s hand. There was justice in that. He spit on his body all the same. 

He turned to find his brother and daughter standing side by side, Ellie’s eyes still sharp but rimmed in red, her cheeks puffy. Both of them were wet, Ellie no longer splattered in blood. 

“We should move,” Joel said, stalking toward Cody’s horse. Tommy just watched him as Joel mounted up, the horse pawing at the ground for a moment as he got settled. He looked back at his brother. “If you ain’t got the stomach, Tommy, I’ll do this myself…” 

“I’m comin’,” Tommy said, going to another horse and mounting up, too. “Just hope you don’t get lost in the process.” 

Joel didn’t say anything. What was there to say? That the man he had the potential to be had left when you did? That, without you, there was nothing left to lose? 

He didn’t need to say it. Somehow, he was sure, Tommy knew. 

Instead, he nudged his horse forward, starting on the path given to him by the man he’d left in pieces on the ground. 

A/N: So Joel is pretttttttty damn feral at this point. I'm not sure I've ever written a Joel quite this unhinged and that's not even accounting for the fact that the juxtaposition between Jackson Joel and Feral Joel is pretty harsh. He's just gone, at least for now.

There are just three chapters left of this fic now (I think, the way some of this chapter flowed means it may grow to 41 chapters but I don't think so)! Next chapter is going to be a big one, one that's been building for the whole of this fic and I'm so excited for it. I hope you are, too!

Thanks for being here through this INSANELY lengthy journey both in word/chapter count and in time. It feels like we've been with Joel and Bambi forever and that's because we kind of have been - almost a year now! I hope you've enjoyed the ride. I know I have.

Love you!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

[dotthings]

If some people who ship Destiel hate Jensen so much, why do they reblog JenMish, why are they so interested in Jensen. If they are so sure that all the negative things they believe about him are true, why do they bug him, why do they wankbait him.

Why, if nothing he says is ever good enough, if they look down on him this much, do they keep at him .

Why do they think they have rights to tell other Destiel shippers they can’t appreciate Jensen, they can’t listen to him, respect him, or find anything welcoming or encouraging in his words. (You know who also doesn’t want any Destiel shippers to find anything welcoming in Jensen? Antidestiel hatedom).

Why is it Jensen fans who ship Destiel and who find comfort and validation in Jensen’s words—even if it’s still open-ended in some respects, even if it’s not an exact match to Misha’s bluntness, are expected to put up with being called crazy by other Destiel shippers.

Why is it bitter hellers who barely even go here any more and who clearly haven’t experienced joy in years outside of fanfics so often will pop back in just to say something invalidating and mean before they vanish again.

Why do Destiel shippers not want Destiel shippers to have validation or comfort.

Why do Destiel shippers who seemingly have had only misery and sense of rejection and disappointment about Destiel keep hovering over it instead of moving to something more satisfying. And when they do sometimes move on, they keep taking cheap shots at Destiel, they weaponize whatever wonderful new perfect thing they’ve found to throw their spite back at Destiel.

If Destiel isn’t enough, if what was already accomplished isn’t enough, if they can’t feel how extraordinary this is or why it matters to people, people are allowed their opinions and feelings, but if that’s how they feel, why keep touching the hot stove over and over.

If Jensen isn’t enough, why won’t they leave him alone.

They need to understand their hatred of Jensen isn’t entitled to a free pass.

And they need to understand that chronically treating Destiel like it’s never enough, constantly belittling the mountains spn moved and whatever comes next, belittling shippers who feel strongly about the significance and meaning of all this and the hostility towards Destiel shippers who find joy and meaning in it, not only from fanfic, but from the canon story and the creatives who purposefully crafted this love story, is a hostility towards the Destiel lane and I don’t know why they thought they were entitled to a free pass.

People are allowed their opinions but acting shocked when they get pushback for the hate and invalidation they keep bringing into the lane is wild. There’s nothing wrong with needing to move on.

Why do we have to tolerate this from inside the Destiel lane?

[useyourwordsdarling]

I think it’s pretty obvious what you’re doing here, you’re driving the subs of tumblr absolutely wild with you words 😌✨

But I get the whole love hate relationship with tumblr, sometimes it’s amazing and sometimes it could be horrible.

I feel so burnt out lately 😞 I’m just working myself all day long and ending my day feeling like I haven’t accomplished anything.

I’m really unfocused and honestly just tired…

Sorry for being a bummer😅

And shhhhh you don’t want to reveal my secret identity! I’m like Batman 😋

Hahah I’d not go that far, they’re more like silly little posts I sometimes think about

Yeah..I was thinking about quitting completely because of some stuff that happened but I might still post from time to time I’m not really sure

I do get you, it’s hard to see progress when days seem so similar from each other. Almost like they’re blending in, but progress most of the time happens little by little. And only when you think about the big picture you can see it. And I know you’re trying your best, and you need to acknowledge that as well as allow yourself to take a break from it all if you can (I totally sound like a therapist don’t I?)

It’s not a bummer at all, I think it happens to all of us to feel this way. Sometimes things can get repetitive and tiring, and speaking out about it seems perfectly normal

You’re exactly like Batman, except that you have a cute voice and girlblog on tumblr (unless Batman does that too, I can see him laying on his stomach and swinging his feet while posting on tumblr, that would be cute)

[wolfsongrevival]

‘’

⤘ yooo! my names tracker, im 18. she / they lesbian. im a human lycanthrope, and a cleric of galicaea! im sure some people on here know me, but there’s a little introduction if you don’t LOL, i just wanted to join the bandwagon since all my friends were on the app ,,

‘’

FANTASY HIGH RP BLOG MASTERLIST:

// OOC.

⤘ my name is dani, she / they sapphic ^^

⤘ i don’t mind light nsfw, but not anything excruciatingly detailed or whatever…

⤘ my asks are open, so feel free to go wild!

⤘ if you want my main ooc blog, just like message me or something and I’ll give it to you LMAO

⤘ other rp accounts are 100% allowed and encouraged to interact and chat!!!!

⤘ i think that’s all for now ! :P

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Forty-Four

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, online bullying, panic attacks, stalking, mental health issues, conspiracy theories.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: Unbeta'd as usual, enjoy!

To read from the beginning, check out the Masterlist Here!

tags: @faceless-mirror @missduffsblog @tamtam-elizabeth @witchyweeb34 @tearfallpixie

@wild-child-7747 @shilohrosechicken @lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens @valiantroeagleangel

@bngurngheart @dominuslunae @collapsedglasshouses @embracethereaper42 @emmmm127

@sunsshinesunny @spicywhenspeaking

If you would like to be added to this tag list please see THIS FORM

Their drive to their next destination was just as full of laughter, this time less about their day, and more devoted to Ricky surrounding his argument that he couldn’t possibly be vegan anything, thank you very much. He ate far too much meat, it just wouldn’t work. That was about the time that Talia decided that if they were going to be testing her tonight, it was about time she could try to test them just a little bit too, and she was going to. That was where the remark came from next, she was sure.

“Well, Rick, if you aren’t vegan anything, how could Chris possible get to enjoy eating you then.”

Looking out the window so calmly with a little knowing smile as her tattoo flared, whether the origin was Chris, or Ricky, who could say. The silence in the car, aside the traffic they were driving through, was telling as far as she was concerned, she very much had their attention dying down from the laughter and the jokes.

“We both know Spookie wants to swallow something.”

She only glanced over to Ricky then when she heard the choked sound in the back seat.. Giggling slightly, Chris having not expected that.. Obviously. Perfect. If she thought she was able to catch both of them out, however, she seemed to have to think again with the mischievous look in Ricky’s eyes as he pulled up to a set of lights. As he focused on her at that moment, the smirk on his lips,

“Oh, Sweetheart, I don’t think he’s the only one that wants to swallow, desperately.”

Damn you, Richard Olson. Mostly because as she felt her tattoo tingle again, she knew they likely both felt it too. Talia could only console herself that it had also flared up before, but it didn’t change the fact that it had given her away, just as it did them. She longed for the days when the only tip off to give herself away was the state of her face. With how warm her skin felt, she felt like she might as well be lit up like a damn Christmas tree. Bright and ruby red, she didn’t have a doubt about it. Though, with Chris sitting behind her, and Ricky had to pull his eyes back into the road as they started driving away, she had some reprieve from them looking right at her. 

They didn’t have much further to go after Talia tried to tease them, Ricky was sure she was probably a bit grateful for that, or miserable as she didn’t have a lot of time to calm down. Either way, Ricky was pulling the car into a small little park with other vehicles.

“No, way, really Ricky?”

That was what he got from Chris in the back seat when he saw where they were, and Rick just grinned wide, 

“Why not, trust me, just trust me.”

Ricky climbed out of his seat and got out of the car, walking around the front quickly to get to Talia’s door so he could help her out. Yes, yes he was aware she could get out of a car just fine on her own, but now he would admit, he wanted to see her reaction. That was what was going to seal the deal whether this place was going to be a good idea. 

Mini-Golf. 

She did a double take, her eyes going a little wide before she looked at him, a bit quizzical.

“You aren’t friends with me on my socials, and I made them private after Grace’s live, how have you been stalking my accounts…”

Smiling a little.. Before then, they both said at the same time, him confirming her guess,

“Ava.”

He had been attempting to try and figure  out something fun to do, and he wanted it to be fun, not just sit around boring, so, of course, he wanted it to be special to them as people. They could do hang out, other days normally, but there was something about a first date you just wanted to remember… and with Talia, Ricky had so much to make up for.

“I asked her for help, however I didn’t want her to just tell me where to go. I just wanted her to give me a guide, so, she sent me to your personal Insta, and this, this, was what I came up with.”

Ricky sighed as he glanced towards the building behind her, it was an indoor mini-golf course, admittedly specifically designed to play at night. Black Light Mini-Golf, his hope was it was exciting, and different enough that she wouldn’t be triggered, and still enjoyable for her. As he turned back to Talia now,

“I know you used to love it, and I know your family ruined it for you. You deserve to have fun memories again, Sweetheart, but if you say the word, I’ve already looked it up, there is a movie in the park event tonight that is going to start soon. I have some blankets, we can all snuggle up and have a fine time.”

He didn’t want to pressure her into playing. Ricky had seen the way she talked about the wonderful memories she used to have about mini-golf, how she’d played with her grandmother before she passed, and then how after she did her family had just destroyed everything about it. Every chance they got, it had turned into a mockery, and they’d turned into something, pathetic, and cruel towards her. Ricky thought it was about time it became fun for her again.

Holding his breath as she looked into his eyes, Ricky for the life of him couldn’t tell how she felt about his choice. Whether she was upset, about to scream and cry, or whether she was overjoyed, she just was looking at him for a long moment. As much as he wanted her to be happy, really, what he wanted was her to be safe, and okay. If what made her happy the most was for them to leave this very moment and never come back here, he’d do it, in a heart beat. He’d fucked up enough already with her, he didn’t want to keep going,

“Talia, I-”

Next thing he knew, she was stepping closer to him, and pressing her lips gently to his cheek, with the softest whisper,

“It’s perfect, thank you, Ricky.”

As she leaned back then, she had this shy smile on her lips, and he could just tell she was biting the inside of her lip. It made him want to reach up and pull her lip from her teeth and kiss her properly, not some kiss on the cheek, but he swallowed, as much as he wanted to, he didn’t. He knew that he’d only get all kind of distracted if he did, and the whole rest of their night would be derailed. As much as he was sure that Chris probably wouldn’t mind the detour either, at all, Ricky meant it, what he said, Talia deserved those fun memories again.

“Alright, Sweetheart, come on then, let’s go get our putt putt on.” Ricky reached to take her hand, smiled to her before glancing to Chris, raising an eyebrow, grinning as he got the picture when he took her other hand in his so they could all head into the building together. Once they were inside, Ricky paid, already calling ahead and making sure it would be fine if they just turned up and didn’t need to book. Seemed, as long as they weren’t a massive party, and they didn’t have to provide catering of any kind, they were free to roam. Sure enough, they headed out to the course.

Talia absolutely lit up at everything in the course, giggling like crazy as they played through the different holes in the course. It was such a silly little thing, and she couldn’t explain why she felt so giddy right then, but she did. It wasn’t just that she was here, but who she was with. That were having a completely wonderful time, she, was having a completely wonderful time. From the deranged looking clown under the black lights, to the freaky looking dinosaurs, and then there was the iconic windmill that you couldn’t forget.

Just because they were inside, didn’t mean you could forget the windmill, it was always electric powered anyway. Not to mention, the black light effect made the colours blur like streaks of neon paint in the air as the turbines blades spun even more dizzying. As she stood at her ball, biting her lip, she felt hands curl around her hips, causing her to shiver, especially with the way she’d semi hiked up the skirt of her dress. She didn’t know who it was at first until he was leaning against her back, leaning close and whispering low against her ear,

“Be sure not to miss, JellyBean.”

She didn’t mean to, but the low timber of his voice had a roughness to it, and in the semi-darkness, even with all the bright colours around, it had just the most distinct effect. The tiniest moan slipped out from her at the sound of Chris’ voice. 

“Spookie.”

She could feel the way his lips curled into a smile against the shell of her ear, and she had to bite her lip a little more to stop herself to make any more of a sound. Soon as she did though, she felt another hand on her, fingers gripping her chin firmly, directing her to look at Ricky, his thumb gently prying her lip from her teeth.

“Now, now, Sweetheart, none of that, or we can’t be held responsible for what we’ll do, and the date isn’t over yet. You wouldn’t want to disappoint us by ruining our fun, now, would you?”

Whimpering as she shook her head. No, no, she didn’t want to disappoint them, at all.

Her score on the windmill hole was an utter disaster. Utter. Disaster.

Ricky better be driving them directly home, all Chris could think about was getting home, home, and his hands on both of them. Seeing the way that Ricky was with Talia, was the hottest fucking thing in the damn world, if he was honest. If he wasn’t going to get his mouth, hands, anything involved with at least one of them tonight, he was going to need some serious alone time because damn. His only other option was going to be an ice-cold shower and really, and he had to deal with that enough on tour, thank you. Hell no.

It was safe to say that when Ricky pulled over at another food truck to the side of the road, Chris groaned,

“I’m going to kill you, Olson..”

Ricky just smirked over his shoulder,

“We are almost home, don’t you want dessert?”

Before Chris could even reply though, Rick was already climbing out of the car, and Chris huffed, he was going to be impossible, but he supposed it was only fair. They’d had something for Chris, dinner, something for Talia, mini-golf, dessert could be for Ricky, how could he complain? Ice-Cream sundaes.. And yes, there were vegan options. Rick had thought of everything. Chris got the Banana choc brownie vegan sundae.. And he’d admit it, it was good.. But it wasn’t until he was walking back to the car, sucking on a spoonful of sundae that he heard a groan from Ricky… and glanced over at him. 

He had a dumb founded look on his face, staring at Talia… the moment he looked at her, it wasn’t hard to tell why. 

Fuck. She was getting them back for all their teasing tonight, and then some. Talia had gotten a strawberry ice-cream sundae… She had gotten a strawberry ice-cream sundae, and it had real strawberries on it, which she was staring Ricky down as she wrapped her lips around the plump fruit, biting into it slowly. Chris felt the groan that came from his best friend and soul mate. 

“Fuck.. Can we go home, now, Rick?”

If that question wasn’t rhetorical, he was going to kill him, hear that, kill him.

“Get in the car.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[dumb-doll-lips]

Ugh. I’m so grumpy. Had plans to get fucked today. And like it’s totally not the time for my period but like am spotting some and like while it wouldn’t be my fave, this guy is very not about fucking me then.

[merriclo]

i see and respect your “Wild is an arsonist who burns forests down” joke, but i raise you the ever funnier “Wild is a huge wildlife conservationist and will personally fight anyone who dares to set it ablaze (aka almost every single other Link)” joke

[guckies]

I feel like if you willingly bring up a childs hopes in getting something when you know their parent can barely afford it and price an item you know the child loves high then telling the child about it. Somewhat forcing the parent to buy it or either let down the child then you’re the shitty person. Especially if that person is supposedly your good friend and you know they don’t play around when it comes to their child.

[velvetjune]

Spoilers for Alan Wake/Control games and DLCs: one of the things I really like in Alan Wake 2 is the confirmation that, no, Alan can’t create something out of nothing. There were implications in-story that supported that, but it was good to have that be a big part in the sequel. The AWE control dlc easily made it seem like Alan himself had a role in the events of the game and the formation of the FBC, and, personally, seeing it through that lens cheapened a lot of the game and Jesse’s story. Instead, having his writing influence the Hiss and try to manipulate (even out of desperation) Jesse/the FBC to end Hartman and get help, fit right into plot and conflicts of Alan Wake 2, with Alan being sympathetic, but also an asshole for trying to change and control people’s lives in his writing.

[bright-and-burning]

oh my god i just saw a post that reminded me of what happened on my way home. ok so let me preface this with i don’t even think i want kids. certainly not for another decade AT LEAST ok. (i had to do some math there to make sure that made sense akdjskdh) and this was like a really and truly insane moment for me. like i acknowledge this. BUT

at the stop i was waiting at to get on the train there was a woman who had exactly the same hair as me (quite common tbh) w a man who looked Weirdly like this guy i was . chatting . with last weekend (who i like. don’t Actually “”have a crush on”” i just enjoy entertaining my own attraction to people. if that makes sense). and they had this ADORABLE like 18 month old and the bottom of their stroller was packed with cool art pieces they were taking home and i had this awful moment of yearning and then i was like ??? bitch ??? you don’t even want kids. AND you don’t even like. actually know that guy very well since you’ve only talked like four times in the last 3 years.

[lulu2992]

thank you for your posts! they've been super helpful in understanding far cry 5 lore better. if you don't mind, i have a lore question; i've seen people claiming that the faith seed in the game killed her predecessor (in the cult, not joseph's wife), and other people claiming that joseph and/or john killed her. do you know if there's anything in fc5 that says or implies who killed the former faith?

You’re welcome! I’m glad you enjoy my posts :)

People who claim that Faith killed her predecessor have probably played the Far Cry 6 Collapse DLC. In that game, she explains she pushed the previous Faith off the statue of Joseph and that’s how she took her place in the cult. It was her test, the “leap of faith” she talks about in Far Cry 5, but according to the DLC, she didn’t actually jump.

Technically, she isn’t really the one telling this story because everything Joseph experiences in Collapse is a creation of the Voice and/or his tortured mind. Still, even though he’s upset when “Faith” says what she did, it’s more in a “don’t remind me of my mistakes” way than in a “stop telling lies” way, I think, so it seems it’s supposed to be true and not Joseph/the Voice distorting the facts.

The problem is that this was never mentioned in Far Cry 5 and that the DLC has a different writing team. It’s still official, and to some people that’s enough to make it canon, but to me it’s not, and I’ve noted too many inconsistencies to consider it a reliable source of information. It was also Collapse that “revealed” Joseph’s wife was the first, original Faith Seed, but this was never mentioned anywhere before, either; she didn’t have a name in Far Cry 5.

So it’s not really wrong to say Faith killed her predecessor because it’s the story officially told in Collapse, but it’s not what Far Cry 5 said, so I don’t consider this canon (it’s just my opinion, though). Maybe the DLC’s writers felt they had to explain how she survived jumping off the statue because they thought it would have killed her (even though we know the leap of faith isn’t always lethal)...

In Far Cry 5, there unfortunately is almost no information about what happened to the other Faiths. We just know there were at least two, Lana and Selena, and that, according to the author of the “Grieving Note”, Lana died and her body was disposed of at the Horned Serpent Cave. It seems it was then Selena who replaced her and that she was the predecessor of the current Faith, Rachel, but her whereabouts are unknown.

The note “A Confession” implies the Faith who wrote it was afraid of Joseph’s reaction if he found out that her devotion to the Project was “plagued by doubt”, so that suggests he might be at least partly responsible for her presumed demise. That said, no one clearly explains anything and the previous Faiths are barely mentioned, so we can only speculate about what exactly became of them. The Father says Rachel “was not the first”, and he must know the truth about her predecessors, but we don’t.

As for John being the murderer of the former Faith(s), I guess it’s not completely improbable since we can imagine anything, but there’s zero evidence he was directly involved in whatever happened.

[quibbs126]

Okay, I just wanted to do this for posterity’s sake, but basically this post is: Things About Dark Cacao Cookie That (At Least to Me) Point to Him Having Odd Origins (But I’m Probably Overthinking It)

No I will not shorten that name

So I really only have three points (at least that I can currently remember) that apply here, but let’s just mention them regardless

So first up: his abnormal strength

As shown below, his story specifically states that his sword takes 3 average Cookies to even budge, yet we see in game that he’s able to wield it with seemingly little struggle. There is no explanation ever given for this. I mean I suppose you could say that it’s the Soul Jam that gives him the strength, but given that none of the other Ancient descriptions mention their Soul Jam bestowing upon them enchanted physical attributes, it’s little more than conjecture, and it seems more likely to assume that this is just natural for him. But then the question remains: how and why?

Next up: the slit eye thing

In these two sprites, we see Dark Cacao have these slit eyes that he never has in any other sprite. The Wiki names them his “rage sprites”, and while yes, the Wiki is unofficial, the only times we really see these sprites in game seem to be when he’s incredibly angry, or in other words, enraged

Again, no explanation is given for these. I have seen some people say that it’s because cacao and chocolate have small amounts of caffeine in them, and the coffee Cookies are noted to have dilated pupils due to their amounts of caffeine, and thus this is a reference to him having small amounts of caffeine. And yeah, I can accept that as an answer. But also at the same time, these eyes don’t exactly operate like the other coffee eyes, given that they only show up at certain emotionally driven points for Dark Cacao, as opposed to them where it’s just natural and doesn’t seem to ever go away. Also again, this is just a fan theory, and in canon there is no official explanation for this

Now let’s get into my third point: his younger self’s clothes

I know that sounds a weird one but hear me out

Now there’s two parts of this that I want to take note of

First, let’s compare this to the other young Ancients’ outfits

I’d say that by comparison, Dark Cacao’s outfit looks much nicer than theirs

Now yes, you can have explanations for why theirs aren’t the nicest looking. From what I’ve gathered, Pure Vanilla was a pilgrim, and if the art book is to be believed, was once a shepherd, and let’s just say that kind of lifestyle probably isn’t leading you to be wearing particularly nice clothes. As for Hollyberry, while she know she came from a noble house, you can just say this is her adventuring attire, made for battle and roughing it out in the wild rather than looking nice

But that in itself isn’t the weird thing. The weird thing is that Dark Cacao’s clothes look a lot nicer than theirs, which is odd considering the Dark Cacao Kingdom doesn’t seem to be known for having clothes that look particularly high quality. I’m not saying their clothes aren’t of nice quality, it’s just that clothes like this look a bit too nice for just a presumably normal villager, no?

I mean, both the cape and top have those trims you usually put on clothes to make them look nicer (at least I think that’s what it’s called, sorry I’m not good with how clothes work), as well as his nice looking brooch that has a small gem in it. Not to mention the sword he’s carrying, which looks like it has engravings and has what looks more like a dark gem at the pommel. Compare that to the swords we see the Watchers at the Citadel use, and it looks much higher quality. Again, odd for a normal person of a kingdom that isn’t known for its wealth or high quality of clothes or swords (again not to say they can’t have it, it’s just odd in this scenario. Those people who do have high quality stuff are cookies of high ranking in the kingdom, not normal cookies. I don’t think I’m wording this well)

There’s also the fact that it’s purple, which back in the day, was hard to come by and rather expensive. Yes in the current day kingdom, we see people wearing purple, but first off nowadays purple isn’t as hard to obtain, and second those cookies are all those who are at the Citadel, the place of highest ranking in the kingdom. They’re probably allowed higher quality clothing. But also keep note that these are Cookies, not humans, and how clothing colors work could easily be different, so take this point with a grain of salt, it’s probably not all that strong. And I know he’s associated with purple, so it makes sense for him to wear it, but it doesn’t look a particularly dull shade of purple (I mean it does somewhat, but it’s nice enough that it doesn’t just look like grey fabric with a purple tint), and that’s why I call it out

Secondly, there’s the fact that aesthetically, it doesn’t really match the Dark Cacao Kingdom

Now sure, fashion isn’t constant, and it’s not ludicrous to imagine that outfits 1000+ years ago would look radically different, but let’s compare this to the only other cookie we see of the soon to be kingdom from this time period

Just compare the two and they look nothing alike, which is odd considering they’re supposed to both be from the same place. (also it again affirms my point about his clothes looking pretty high quality; Reluctant Cookie here looks like they’re wearing torn and ragged clothing unlike Dark Cacao)

Like Dark Cacao has said himself that he is native to this land, and his features compared to other members do support this idea, so why doesn’t he dress like them?

I mean sure, at this point the land was a bunch of different tribes, and you can assume they probably each have their own style and don’t all look the same, but still, the radical difference

Now okay, those last two points are more speculation on my part, while the other two are objective facts, but you see what I mean? Him being a normal Cookie from the (future) Dark Cacao Kingdom just doesn’t seem to add up

I mean yeah, I know he’s an Ancient, he’s not a “normal Cookie”, but like, everyone else only became “different” later in life, they seem to have started out relatively normal. Dark Cacao stands out as the odd one of the bunch (I mean other than Golden Cheese, but that’s probably because we don’t know anything about her yet)

Originally, back when I was first getting into Cookie Run, I speculated his oddities could be because he’s related to the dragons or was raised by them, hence his unusual traits and clothes. However, Might of the Ancients seems to disprove this, as there, he seems to not be familiar with the dragons at all, not even knowing they were the ones causing the odd storms and snow, simply trying to find the sources of these “anomalies”. And when he does know, nothing tells us that he has any familiarity with them. So I think it’s safe to say he’s not connected to the North and South Dragons

Alright, I so I should mention here that I don’t actually have an answer for all these oddities. I just made this to point them out and say they were weird, at least to me. Hopefully at some point these things get answered. Or again, I’m just overthinking it all

[shekeepsmeworms]

Had some wine feeling good made a really shitty bowl in ceramics class this morning that I’m really worried has a bunch of air holes in it and had a really crappy therapy session where I didn’t talk too much but was honest about some other stuff which is good overall I guess but now I’m doing drunk crochet and watching the Duggar family documentary and probably going to stop watching soon once they start talking about the awful stuff but yeah day in the life of a woman doing her best I guess

[ow-old-men]

wouldn't it be so cool if when the pve for ow2 comes out the story and writing of it all is so horrendously bad that it has a reaction effect within the fandom that kickstarts people making their own versions of the game's story and soon there's fan comics that are 20x better than anything bl*zzard could dream of

I know this is somewhat a joke question, and yes- on the face of it, it would be

But in reality, that would not be the reaction to canon content being bad. Spite can only support you for so long - and more importantly, people are already doing just that; creating. If PvE comes out and is horrendously bad, people will be disappointed, they’ll be angry, they’ll post about how they feared this but had dared to hope, I’ll make a very big and funny and time consuming post writing a fake job application to the blizzard writers or some dumb shit like that. And then some of us will leave and some will stick around and make the same shit posts and drawings and what have you not

It’s all already there, you don’t have to punish yourself waiting around for something you don’t want

So sorry for being overly sincere, but if you want fandom to thrive, you shouldn’t sit around and wait for canon to write itself off for good, you should go out and look for the amazing stuff people are already putting out. Hell, you should make your own! Community and enthusiasm and love will always make better stuff than bitterness

[thatone-churro]

y’know just as soon as i start getting comfortable with the idea of being open/relying on my dad and him being more comfortable with my choices than i feared, i can essentially throw all that out the window with how vehemently he yelled at me at the thought of my getting my septum pierced (even though i never said i was yet. i said my side before i decide anything else). also making underhanded remarks of me never getting tattoos other than the one for my mom. like okay don’t ask me why i don’t tell you about anything or talk to you or anything. what the fuck.

[autoneurotic]

rememberrrr when i thought i would always wracked with and controlled by anxiety/ptsd/depression and that i would always be stuck in jobs that i hate and that hated me personally and now here i am like, 2 and a half years into unemployment because my beautiful partner gets paid well and i can make art, something i’ve wanted to do for ever and used to do a lot, AND squeeze out a minimal living from it?? like hello.