#the last two are drawings of them when they were still alive. different points in their life

[dontlookforme00]

No context OC posting

[etaleah]

What Is the Appeal of Sonadow?

I have a lot of thoughts about this ship, what draws people to it, and why some of the criticisms of it are exaggerated or less than honest. Putting them under a cut because it’s gonna get long.

First of all, the critique of “Lol why do people ship them when they beat the shit out of each other whenever they disagree on something, they’re abusive!” is dishonest framing for two reasons. One is that it ignores the fact that Sonic and Shadow are allies far more often than they’re enemies, and even when they are enemies, it’s usually over something serious, not just a minor disagreement. The other is that it’s bad media criticism to apply real human standards to a cartoon animal universe.

When you watch the classic Looney Tunes short where Bugs and Daffy are arguing over whether it’s Rabbit Season or Duck Season and Bugs tricks Daffy into shooting himself, do you see Bugs as abusive and evil? Probably not, because the laws of physics don’t apply in cartoons and Daffy getting shot in the face doesn’t actually hurt him. He’s still completely fine afterwards because he’s a cartoon and is therefore invincible. The same is true for Sonic and Shadow. Have you ever seen either of them seriously injured after one of their fights? Has either one ever needed to go to the hospital because the other beat him up so badly? No, of course not. They groan in pain for about two seconds and then they’re fine. If the creators wanted to convey them being injured, they could show bruises or blood or have bones snapping and the characters limping, but they don’t. The fights are never meant to be taken that seriously. I find this criticism every bit as annoying and overzealous as people who insist that Pinky and the Brain are abusive because Brain bops Pinky on the head. They’re cartoons, y’all. They’re not realistic, were never meant to be realistic, and shouldn’t be treated as realistic. Different standards apply.

To the second point, Sonic and Shadow don’t actually fight that often. In all the interactions they’ve had together, it’s only been a handful of times. They’re allies in the Archie comics, Sonic ‘06, the canon ending of Shadow the Hedgehog (they’re only enemies in that game if the player wants them to be), Sonic Forces, Team Sonic Racing, The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and most of the IDW comics, along with the endings of Sonic X, Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic Heroes. They’re allies for much of Prime as well. But hey, let’s break down the times they do fight:

Sonic Adventure 2: Shadow’s memories have been tampered with and he and Sonic are literally fighting over the fate of the world.

Sonic X: Same thing for season 2, and in season 3, they’re fighting over whether Cosmo should live or die. Sonic says killing her is wrong, Shadow says stopping the Metarex is what’s most important and if that means little Cosmo has to die, well, them’s the breaks, pal.

Sonic Prime: Sonic has broken their world, Shadow is trying desperately to save it, and Sonic is valuing the Shatterverse inhabitants over Green Hill.

IDW: Shadow says Eggman is too dangerous to leave alive and if that means Mr. Tinker has to die too, well, them’s the breaks, pal. Sonic says killing anyone is wrong no matter the reason.

You see a pattern here? Most of the time what they fight over is literally life and death. They’re not going at each other’s throats over petty bullshit like who gets the last slice of pizza or who gets to pick the film for Movie Night. They fight over serious moral differences. I would argue that Amy and Knuckles have gotten angry at Sonic for way less than what Shadow does.

Now, there are a few instances where their fights are stupid, namely Sonic Boom and Sonic Heroes. But I think it’s pretty universally agreed that Shadow is out of character in Boom, and honestly, all of the fights in Sonic Heroes are very forced. There was no reason for Team Dark or Team Rose to fight Team Chaotix; their goals don’t contradict each other in any way and it’s clearly just manufactured conflict to give the player another boss fight. And these are the exception; most of their fights are over serious ideological divides.

Those serious ideological divides are exactly what makes Sonadow so interesting. I personally prefer ships where characters can learn and grow from each other, where their differences can clash until they learn to reconcile them. I don’t find a ship like, say, Sonamy nearly as interesting because I don’t think there’s many (if any) moral stances Sonic would have that Amy wouldn’t. They already agree on the important things. I’m not bashing anyone who likes that ship; if that’s your thing, good for you. It just doesn’t appeal to me because I think Sonic and Amy already having a lot in common morally means they can’t really grow and change from interacting with each other in the same way.

Sonic can bring out the best in Shadow, teach him to trust others and lighten up and learn how to live in the moment rather than being tethered to the past. Shadow can teach Sonic how to think before he acts, to view the world more realistically, and to consider the impact that his insistence on moral purity will have on others. That setup makes for some amazing stories.

Also? These guys love fighting each other. They’re both athletes and very competitive. Look at how much they smile when they fight:

Like…they love this. It’s so much fun for them. Sonic and Shadow are both competitive athletes who love pushing themselves, but in terms of speed, no one is any competition for them except each other. No one else can beat either of them in a race. Imagine spending your whole life winning so easily that there was no accomplishment in it, and then suddenly this guy comes along who’s actually as good as you or maybe even better. Finally you have a challenge and can really enjoy the feeling of being the best. That’d be amazing. They give each other something no one else can, and to me, that’s what good romances are made of.

And all of that is combined with the fact that Sonadow offers an Odd Couple setup, which is always fertile ground for fun, comedic situations that require opposite characters to work together. Plus the Enemies/Rivals to Lovers aspect, which adds a bit of “forbidden fruit” to the mix because we all know that the most tempting and appealing relationships are the ones that are Forbidden (TM). That’s literally the premise of Romeo and Juliet, people who aren’t supposed to be together but end up wanting to be anyway.

I wouldn’t want Sonadow to be canon, but I definitely enjoy exploring it in fandom. It’s a fun ship that offers a lot for a writer or artist to work with. And while I would never force it on anyone, I wish the criticisms of it weren’t quite so shallow and disingenuous.

[mooseyspooky]

Songs Moz says he wrote about Johnny:

-Angel, Angel Down We Go Together

Meanwhile, all the songs that I think are actually about Johnny, or in some way referring to him:

-Hand In Glove (1983)

-No, it's not like any other love. This one is different, because it's us.

-So, hand in glove I stake my claim. I'll fight to the last breath. If they dare touch a hair on your head, I'll fight to the last breath. For the good life is out there somewhere. So stay on my arm, you little charmer, but I know my luck too well. Yes, I know my luck too well. And I'll probably never see you again.

-Reel Around The Fountain (1983)

-Fifteen minutes with you. Well, I wouldn't say no. Oh, people said that you were virtually dead, and they were so wrong.

-I dreamt about you last night, and I fell out of bed twice. You can pin and mount me like a butterfly, but, "Take me to the haven of your bed" was something that you never said. Two lumps, please. You're the bee's knees but so am I.

-What Difference Does It Make? (1982)

-All men have secrets and here is mine. So let it be known. For we have been through hell and high tide. I think I can rely on you, and yet you start to recoil. Heavy words are so lightly thrown, but still I'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you.

-*But now you know the truth about me. You won't see me anymore. Well, I'm still fond of you.

-But I'm still fond of you. Oh, my sacred one.

-Miserable Lie (Linder/Johnny) (1982)

-I know I need hardly say how much I love your casual way. Oh, but please put your tongue away. A little higher and we're well away. The dark nights are drawing in, and your humor is as black as them. I look at yours, you laugh at mine, and "love" is just a miserable lie. You have destroyed my flower-like life. Not once - twice. You have corrupt my innocent mind. Not once - twice.

-This Charming Man (1983)

-When in this charming car. This charming man.

-Why pamper life's complexity when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?

-This man said, "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care."

-These Things Take Time (1982)

-Mine eyes have seen the glory of the sacred wunderkind.

-But I can't believe that you'd ever care, and this is why you will never care.

-I'm spellbound, but a woman divides, and the hills are alive with celibate cries. But you know where you came from, you know where you're going, and you know where you belong. You said I was ill and you were not wrong.

-The alcoholic afternoons when we sat in your room - they meant more to me than any than any living thing on earth. It had more worth than any living thing on earth. Vivid and in your prime. You will leave me behind.

-Handsome Devil (1982)

-You ask me the time, but I sense something more. And I would like to give what I think you're asking for.

-You handsome devil. Oh, you handsome devil. Let me get my hands on your mammary glands, and let me get your head on the conjugal bed.

-I crack the whip, and you skip, but you deserve it. And when we're in your scholarly room, who will swallow whom?

-Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want (1984)

-So for once in my life let me get what I want. Lord knows it would be the last time.

-I Want The One I Can't Have (1984)

-On the day that your mentality decides to try to catch up with your biology - come 'round. 'Cause I want the one I can't have, and it's driving me mad. It's all over, all over, all over my face.

-And if you ever need self-validation just meet me in the alley by the railway-station. It's all over my face.

-That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore (1984)

-Park the car at the side of the road. You should know time's tide will smother you - and I will too. When you laugh about people who feel so very lonely their only desire is to die - well, I'm afraid it doesn't make me smile.

-It was dark as I drove the point home, and on cold leather seats - well, it suddenly struck me. I just might die with a smile on my face after all.

-Well I Wonder (1983/1984)

-Do you hear me when you sleep? I hoarsely cry.

-Do you see me when we pass? I half-die.

-Please keep me in mind.

-I Know It's Over (1985)

-I know it's over - still I cling. I don't know where else I can go.

-Sad veiled bride, please be happy. Handsome groom, give her room. Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly. Though she needs you more than she loves you.

-I know it's over, and it never really began, but in my heart it was so real. And you even spoke to me, and said: "If you're so funny then why are you on your own tonight? And if you're so clever then why are you on your own tonight? If you're so very entertaining then why are you on your own tonight? If you're so very good-looking why do you sleep alone tonight?"

-Love is natural and real, but not for you, my love. Not tonight, my love. Love is natural and real, but not for such as you and I, my love.

-Never Had No One Ever (1985)

-Now I'm outside your house - I'm alone. And I'm outside your house. I hate to intrude.

-The Boy with the Thorn in His Side (1985)

-How can they look into my eyes, and still they don't believe me? How can they hear me say those words - still they don't believe me? And if they don't believe me now will they ever believe me?

-How can they see the love in our eyes, and still they don't believe us? And after all this time they don't want to believe us. And if they don't believe us now will they ever believe us?

-There Is a Light That Never Goes Out (1985)

-Driving in your car. I never, never want to go home. Because I haven't got one anymore.

-Driving in your car. Please don't drop me home.

-And if a double-decker bus crashes into us - to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us - to die by your side...well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine.

-Take me out tonight. Take me anywhere, I don't care. And in the darkened underpass I thought, "Oh God, my chance has come at last." But then a strange fear gripped me, and I just couldn't ask.

-Stretch Out and Wait (1985)

-All the lies that you make up...what's at the back of your mind? Your face I can see, and it's desperately kind - but what's at the back of your mind?

-Amid concrete and clay, and general decay, nature must still find a way. So ignore all the codes of the day. Let your juvenile impulses sway...God, how sex implores you to let yourself lose yourself.

-Stretch out and wait. Let your puny body lie down. As we lie, you say...stretch out and...

-Shakespeare's Sister (1985)

-But I'm going to meet the one I love. So, please don't stand in my way, because I'm going to meet the one I love.

-I can smile about it now, but at the time it was terrible.

-Sweet and Tender Hooligan (1986)

-He said that he'd never, never do it again, and of course he won't - not until the next time.

-Would you look into those motherly eyes? I love you for you, my love, you, my love.

-Is It Really So Strange? (1986)

-And I can't help the way I feel. You can kick me, and you can punch me, and you can break my face, but you won't change the way I feel. 'Cause I love you.

-Is it really so strange? I say no, you say yes - and you will change your mind.

-London (1986)

-Smoke lingers 'round your fingers. Train a-heave on to Euston. Do you think you've made the right decision this time?

-You left your girlfriend on the platform with this really ragged notion that you'll return, but she knows that when he goes, he really goes. And do you think you've made the right decision this time?

-Ask (1986)

-So if there's something you'd like to try...Ask me, I won't say no, how could I?

-Because if it's not love then it's the bomb...that will bring us together.

-Nature is a language, can't you read?

-I Started Something I Couldn't Finish (1987)

-The lanes were silent. There was nothing, no one, nothing around for miles. I doused our friendly venture with a hard-faced, three-word gesture.

-I started something, I forced you to a zone - and you were clearly never meant to go. Hair brushed and parted, typical me...I started something, and now I'm not too sure.

-I grabbed you by guilded beams. That's what tradition means. And I doused another venture with a gesture that was absolutely vile.

-Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before (1987)

-Nothing's changed. I still love you, oh, I still love you...only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love.

-Who said I'd lied to her? Who said I'd lied, because I never...

-Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me (1987)

-Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me. No hope, no harm. Just another false alarm.

-Last night I felt real arms around me. No hope, no harm. Just another false alarm.

-I Won't Share You (1987)

-I won't share you, no. I won't share you. With the drive and ambition. The zeal I feel, this is my time.

-Life tends to come and go. That's okay...as long as you know.

-I'll see you somewhere. I'll see you sometime, darling.

-I Keep Mine Hidden (1987)

-Hate, love and war force emotions to the fore, but not for me of course, of course. I keep mine hidden.

-But it's so easy for you...because you let yours flail into public view.

-The lies are so easy for you, because you let yours slide into public view.

-Alsatian Cousin (1987)

-Were you and he lovers? And would you say so if you were?

-A note upon his desk. "P.S. Bring Me Home And Have Me!" Leather elbows on a tweed coat -is that the best you can do? So came his reply: "But on the desk is where I want you."

-Angel, Angel Down We Go Together (1987)

-Note: I personally believe that this song is Johnny speaking to Morrissey shortly after the breakup.

-Angel, angel. Don't take your life tonight. I know they take, and that they take in turn. And they give you nothing real for yourself in return, but when they've used you and they've broken you, and wasted all your money, and cast your shell aside - and when they've bought you and they've sold you, and they've billed you for the pleasure, and they've made your parents cry. I will be here, oh, believe me. I will be here, believe me. Angel, don't take your life. Some people have got no pride. They do not understand the urgency of life. But I love you more than life.

-Late Night, Maudlin Street (1987)

-Note: In a similar vein, I think this is Morrissey's side of the conversation from Angel, Angel Down We Go Together. It is the very next song on the album (Viva Hate). This song is a mix of movie quotes, description of movie scenes, and (more or less) spoken word pieces. Those spoken word pieces I think are Moz' response to Johnny in Angel, Angel. 'Don't take your life, tonight.' 'I took strange pills, but I never meant to hurt you,' ect.

-Love at first sight. May sound trite, but it's true, you know. I could list the details of everything you ever wore, or said, or how you stood that day.

-Truly I do love you. Oh, truly I do love you.

-When I sleep with that picture of you framed beside my bed...Oh, it's childish and it's silly, but I think it's you in my room by the bed. Yes, I told you it was silly, and I know I took strange pills, but I never meant to hurt you. Oh, truly I love you.

-The last bus I missed to Maudlin Street. So, he drove me home in the van, complaining, "Women only like me for my mind..."

-And so we crept through the park. No, I cannot steal a pair of jeans off a clothesline for you...but you without clothes. Oh, I could not keep a straight face. Me, without clothes? Well, a nation turns its back and gags.

-Oh, truly I do love you...wherever you are.

-Suedehead (1987)

-Why do you come here? And why, why do you hang around? I'm so sorry...Why do you come here when you know it makes things hard for me? ...Why do you telephone? And why send me silly notes? I'm so sorry.

-You had to sneak into my room just to read my diary. "It was just to see, just to see." All the things you knew I'd written about you. Oh, so many illustrations. But I'm so very sickened. I am so sickened now...Oh, it was a good lay, good lay.

-Break Up the Family (1987)

-The strange logic in your clumsiest line - it stayed emblazoned on my mind. You say, break up the family, and let's begin to live our lives.

-Yes, you found love, but you weren't at peace with your life. Home late, full of hate. Despise the ties that bind.

-I Don't Mind If You Forget Me (1987)

-I don't mind - I don't mind if you forget me.

-So now you send me your hardened 'regards' when once you'd send me 'Love.' Sincerely I must tell you your mild 'best wishes' - they make me suspicious.

-The pressure to change, to move on was strange, and very strong. So this is why I tell you - I really do understand. Bye bye.

-Rejection is one thing, but rejection from a fool is cruel.

-I Know Very Well How I Got My Name (1987)

-A child in a curious phase. A man with sullen ways. I know very well how I got my name. You think you were my first love. You think you were my first love, but you're wrong. You were the only one. Who's come and gone.

-Treat Me Like a Human Being (1987)

-It's hard, but try...for once, just for once...Leave all your hate behind you. It's still all so strange and obscene for you to look and see one who is real and who feels life.

-Three words could change my life. So once, just for once...let the night pass with ease, son. Treat me like a human being. I'd like to know how this feels.

-Three words could change my life, yet you treat me like you never care.

-Happy Lovers at Last United (1988)

-Happy lovers, back together, and I do feel proud. Happy lovers, reunited, and I do feel proud now. I'm not the type to boast as you know, though it was me who brought them back together. He is so kind, and she is so clever, but they don't want me now, hanging around.

-I rang to her to explain of how he really wants to see you again. I said more or less the same thing to him too, which wasn't true. And now they walk, hand in hand, all is planned, by the silent glance I believe, that only lovers share. And I'm proud to have done something good for once. And she is so kind, and he's so clever, but they don't need me now, hanging around.

-Will Never Marry (1988)

-For whether you stay, or you stray, an inbuilt guilt that catches up with you - and as it comes around to your place at 5 a.m., wakes you up, and it laughs in your face.

-He Knows I'd Love to See Him (1989)

-He knows, he knows, or...I think he does. 'Cause when I lived in the arse of the world...he knows, he knows. He knows I'd love to see him happy, or as close as is allowed.

-Oh, my name still conjures up deadly deeds, and a bad taste in the mouth.

-He doesn't know...

-Yes, I Am Blind (1989)

-Love's young dream. I'm the one who shocked you. I'm the one who stopped you, 'cause in my sorry way I love you.

-Love's young dream...aren't you sorry for what you've done? Well, you're not the only one, and in my sorry way I love you.

-Yes, I am blind, but I do see evil people prosper over the likes of you and me always.

-Oh Phoney (1989)

-May this lovely letter reach its destination...if only. Question one is why do you pretend that you like me? Oh Phoney. See how the outside contradicts what's inside.

-Who can make Hitler seem like a bus conductor? You do, oh Phoney you do. You sing a lovely song to a scale, and the words spell out my name. Oh Phoney. But then you kick me down below, 'cause you know it won't show. How could you?

-King Leer (Linder?/Johnny) (1990)

-Your boyfriend, he went down on one knee...Well, could it be he's only got one knee?

-Your boyfriend, he has the gift of the gab, or, could it be...the gift of the grab?

-Your boyfriend, he has displayed to me more than just a real hint of cruelty.

-Found Found Found (Peter Hogg?/Johnny) (1990)

-Found, found, found...someone who's worth it in this murkiness. Someone who's never seeming to be scheming...(Oh, but if I'd never found)...I do believe that the more you give your love, and I do believe that the more you give your trust...the more you're bound to lose. (Oh, but if I'd never found)...Somebody who wants to be who wants to be with me...all the time.

-The Loop (1990)

-I just want to say I haven't been away. I'm still right here, where I always was. So one day, if you're bored by all means call. Because you can do...but only if you want to. I just want to say I haven't been away. I am still right here, where I always was. So one day, when you're bored by all means call. Because you can do...but you might not get through.

-My Love Life (1991)

-Come on to my house. Come on and do something new. I know you love one person so why can't you love two? (Note: Moz once changed this line to "I know you love one person, but why don't you love two?")

-Give a little something...give a little something to my love life.

-I know you love one person so why don't you love two, love? Love two (Note: Moz once changed this line to "I know you love one person, but why can't you love two?")

-Seasick, Yet Still Docked (1992)

-Wish I knew the way to reach the one I love. There is no way. Wish I had the charm to attract the one I love, but you see, I've got no charm.

-Tonight I've consumed much more than I can hold. Oh, this is very clear to you. And you can tell I have never really loved. You can tell by the way I sleep all day, and all of my life no one gave me anything...My love is as sharp as a needle in your eye. You must be such a fool to pass me by.

-I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday (1992)

-My love, wherever you are, whatever you are - don't lose faith. I know it's gonna happen someday to you. Please wait...

-You say that the day just never arrives, and it's never seemed so far away. Still, I know it's gonna happen someday to you.

-Tomorrow (1992)

-All I ask of you is one thing that you never do - would you put your arms around me? I won't tell anyone. Tomorrow...does it have to come?

-And what must come before. Oh, the pain in my arms. Oh, the pain in my legs. Oh, my shiftless body. Tomorrow. It's surely nearer now. You don't think I'll make it. I never said I wanted to - well, did I?

-All I ask of you is would you tell me that you love me. Tell me, tell me that you love me. Ah, I know you don't mean it.

-I'd Love To (1993)

-Again I lay awake, and I cried because of waste. I'd love to, but only with you...Oh, time is gonna wipe us out. There, I've said it loud and clear so that you will hear. There's no one in view. Just you...and time will never wipe you out. Now I've had enough. I've had more than could be my rightful share of nights I can't bear. How can it be fair? Time must wipe them out. So, again, I lay awake in a trance. Oh, I just want my chance, but only with you...that's all...

-Spring-Heeled Jim (1993)

-Spring-heeled Jim lives to love. Now kissing with his mouth full, and his eyes on some other fool. So many women - his head should be spinning. Ah, but no!

-Spring-heeled Jim slurs the words: "There's no need to be so knowing. Take life at five times your average speed, like I do."

-Billy Budd (1993)

-Say, Billy Budd. So you think that you should? Everyone's laughing! Since I took up with you. Things have been bad. Yeah, but now it's twelve years on. Now it's twelve years on. Yes, and I took up with you.

-Yes, and it's all because of us. Oh, and what was in our eyes...I said, Billy Budd I would happily lose both of my legs...I would lose both of my legs if it meant you could be free.

-Hold On to Your Friends (1993)

-A bond of trust has been abused. Something of value may be lost. Give up your job. Squander your cash - be rash. Just hold on to your friends. There are more than enough to fight and oppose. Why waste good time fighting the people you like? Who will fall defending your name?

-But now you only call me when you're feeling depressed. When you feel happy I'm so far from your mind. My patience is stretched. My loyalty vexed.

-Be mad, be rash. Smoke and explode. Sell all of your clothes. Just bear in mind: Oh, there just might come a time when you need some friends.

-Speedway (1993) (Johnny/Issues with the NME)

-And when you slam down the hammer can you see it in your heart? All of the rumors...keeping me grounded. I never said, I never said that they were completely unfounded.

-So when you slam down the hammer can you see it in your heart? Can you delve so low? And when you're standing on my fingers can you see it in your heart? And when you try to break my spirit it won't work, because there's nothing left to break...anymore.

-You won't sleep until the earth that wants me finally has me. Oh you've done it now. You won't rest. Until the hearse that becomes me finally takes me...And you won't smile until my loving mouth is shut good and proper. Forever.

-And all those lies, written lies, twisted lies. Well, they weren't lies. They weren't lies...I never said...I could have mentioned your name. I could have dragged you in. Guilt by implication. By association. I've always been true to you in my own strange way. I've always been true to you in my own sick way. I'll always stay true to you.

-You Must Please Remember (1994)

-A small boy, big ideas. You must please remember. A long road, with no turn-off. Oh, you must remember. Caught in your headlights like a frightened animal. You must remember. Someone cries twice nightly. Of course, I do remember. Someone cries, and you think quite rightly so, but you refuse to remember.

-Low-lights and long nights. I try hard to not remember. And you - too beautiful. I can't look. I've done so very many stupid things. It's too late.

-Honey, You Know Where To Find Me (1994)

-Honey, I'm not gonna cry for the things that never occurred. So do not remind me. Happy to be as I was in the first place. Honey you know where to find me...Kicking away from the mundane everyday. The envy is beyond me. I'm not gonna pine for the things that can never be mine. Do not expect me to. I'm happy to be who I was in the first place.

-Whatever Happens I Love You (1994)

-Names, secret names, but never in my favour. But when all is said and done - it's you I love. Cold loving prose. We stole each other's clothes, but when all is said and done - it's you I love. Yes, yes, yes, oh, yes. (Note: Moz often sings this as 'we wore each other's clothes')

-Fights for rights. Everyone's oh so quick with advice, and when they've all said their piece - it's still you I love. Now just like then...yes, yes. No, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

-You Should Have Been Nice to Me (Jake?/Johnny) (1994/1995)

-You could have told me at the right time. You could have introduced me proudly. Never need to have to kiss me. Never need to ever touch me, but you should have been nice to me. It would have been so easy. And on the moments when I was down you could have been there. You could have once just spoke in favor. You'd never need to ever touch me. But you should have been nice to me...It wouldn't cost you money. And on the moments when I fell down - not for you to say, oh, I told you so. You could have waited...

-Trouble Loves Me (1996/1997)

-Trouble loves me. Trouble needs me. Two things more than you do, or would attempt to. So, console me. Otherwise, hold me. Just when it seems like everything's evened out, and the balance seems serene...

-Trouble loves me. Walks beside me. To chide me. Not to guide me. It's still much more than you'll do.

-Go to waste in the wrong arms. Still running 'round. Trouble loves me. Seeks and finds me. To charlatanize me, which is only as it should be. Oh, please fulfill me. Otherwise, kill me.

-Then at midnight I can't get you out of my head. A disenchanted taste...still running 'round.

-Heir Apparent (1996/1997)

-It's all changed. You were there. Departing, starting a trek I had once took. With that "no-one's gonna stop me when I feel this way" look.

-You think it's so easy, I tell you - it isn't. But you may change minds with your winning smile.

-So I tried to make my way back to the station. You were still there, gleaming and leaving. Wide-eyed and awestruck, saying "How can anybody hate me if I love them first off?"

-Heir apparent. You say that you want it, I'm sure that you'll get it. They'll seduce your heart, and then they'll slap your arse.

-The Edges Are No Longer Parallel (1997)

-All of the things you said...so meaningful. They are all so suddenly meaningless. And the looks you gave...so meaningful. They are all so suddenly meaningless.

-My only mistake is I keep hoping...

-I Like You (Jake/Johnny) (2000-2002)

-Something in you caused me to take a new tact with you. You were going through something I had just about scraped through. Why do you think I let you get away with the things you say to me? Could it be I like you? It's so shameful of me - I like you. No one I ever knew or have spoken to resembles you. This is good or bad all depending on my general mood.

-Magistrates who spend their lives hiding their mistakes - they look at you and I, and envy makes them cry. Envy makes them cry. Forces of containment. They shove their fat faces into mine. You and I just smile, because we're thinking the same line.

-You're not right in the head, and nor am I, and this is why...you're not right in the head, and nor am I, and this is why...this is why I like you.

-Let Me Kiss You (Jake?/Johnny?) (2000-2002)

-There's a place in the sun for anyone who has the will to chase one. And I think I've found mine...so close your eyes. And think of someone you physically admire, and let me kiss you.

-Say, would you let me cry, on your shoulder. I've heard that you'll will try anything twice. (Note: Moz often sings this as 'you'll try anyone twice')

-But then you open your eyes, and you see someone that you physically despise. But my heart is open. My heart is open to you.

-Friday Mourning (2004)

-For years, I warned you. Through tears, I told you.

-This dawn raid soon put paid to all the things I'd whispered to you at night time. And I will never stand naked in front of you, or if I do, it won't be for a long time. Look once to me, look once to me - then look away. Look once to me, then look away.

-The Never-Played Symphonies (2004)

-I can't see those who tried to love me, or those who felt they understood me. And I can't see those who very patiently put up with me. All I can see are the never-laid, or the never played symphonies.

-You were one, you meant to be one. And you jumped into my face and laughed and kissed me on the cheek. And then were gone forever. Not quite.

-You were one, you knew you were one. And you slid right through my fingers. No, not literally, but metaphorically. And now you're all I see as the light fades.

-I Am Two People (2004)

-I love you. It's murder. I am two people. One you know, but don't like. The other one you don't know, but you don't want to.

-I love you. It's pointless. In my soul if I live or die this life.

-I have two faces. One of which you know. The other one, for your sake, I never would show. It's just because I love you. I cannot bear to be around you, and if only one or the other of us would drop down dead.

-You Have Killed Me (2005)

-Pasolini is me. 'Accattone' you'll be. I entered nothing and nothing entered me 'til you came with the key. And you did your best, but as I live and breathe - you have killed me.

-And there is no point saying this again - there is no point saying this again, but I forgive you, I forgive you. Always I do forgive you.

-Life is a Pigsty (2005)

-And once again I turn to you. Once again, I do. I turn to you.

-Life is a pigsty. And if you don't know this then what do you know? Every second of my life I only live for you. And you can shoot me, and you can throw me off a train. I still maintain...

-I can't reach you. I can't reach you. I can't reach you anymore. Can you please stop time? Can you stop the pain? I feel too cold. And now I feel too warm again. Can you stop this pain? Can you stop this pain? Even now in the final hour of my life I'm falling in love again...again.

-I Just Want to See the Boy Happy (2005)

-I want to see the boy happy with some hope in his pale eyes. Is that too much to ask?

-I want to see the boy happy with his arms around his first love. Is that too much to ask? Before I die I have one final dream. For my own life I don't care anything. And I just want to...I want to see this boy happy. Why is this such a bad thing?

-To Me You Are A Work of Art (Jake?/Johnny?) (2005)

-I see the world. It makes me puke. But then I look at you and know that somewhere there's a someone who can soothe me.

-To me you are a work of art. And I would give you my heart - that's if I had one.

-Black Cloud (2007)

-The one I love is standing near. The one I love is everywhere. I can woo you. I can amuse you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine. Black cloud, black cloud. The one I love roosts in the mind. Can snap this spell, or increase hell. I can chase you, and I can catch you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine.

-I play the game of favorites now. I can, I must. I will, I do. I can please you, or I can freeze you out, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine. Black cloud, black cloud, black cloud...I can choke myself to please you, and I can sink much lower than usual. But there's nothing I can do to make you mine.

-Sorry Doesn't Help (2007)

-Sorries pour out of you. All wide-eyed simple smiles. Certain to see you through like a QC full of fake humility. You say: "Oh, please forgive..." You say: "Oh, live and let live..." But sorry doesn't help us, and sorry will not save us, and sorry will not bring my teen years back to me any time soon. Forced back, it springs right out. Seasoned, you have no doubts. You lied about the lies that you told - which is the full extent of what being you is all about.

-Sorry will not bring my love into my arms as far as I know...

-Sorry is just a word you find so easy to say...So you say it anyway. Sorry doesn't help us. Sorry won't protect us. Sorry won't undo all the good gone wrong, my love.

-I'm Ok By Myself (2007)

-Now this might surprise you, but I find I'm ok by myself. And I don't need you, or your morality to save me.

-Now this might disturb you, but I find I'm ok by myself, and I don't need you or your benevolence to make sense.

-After all these years I find I'm ok by myself. And I don't need you, or your homespun philosophy. No, no, no, no...This might make you throw up in your bed: I'm ok by myself! And I don't need you, and I never have, I never have.

-Forgive Someone (2010-2014)

-Use a weapon of words, or a fight with your fists. But can you forgive someone? Stand your ground and persist, and be the last one to blink - but can you forgive someone? And if you do...I'll run to you. Betray you? With a word? I would slit my own throat first of all, I will. The black peat of the hills...when I was still ill. See this mess and forgive someone, and then recall if you can...how all this even began.

-Our truth will die with me. Our truth will die with me...Shorts and supports and faulty shower heads. At track and field we dreamt of our beds. In the bleachers you sit with your legs spread, smiling: "Here's one thing you'll never have." Our truth will die with me.

-Home is a Question Mark (written 2003, released 2017)

-I hug the land but nothing more, because I haven't met you. I've wined and I've dined with every bogus music mogul. No sign of you.

-I have been brave. Deep in every shaven cave. None were you.

-If I ever find home...if I get there, would you meet me? Wrap your legs around my face just to greet me.

-My Love, I'd Do Anything for You (possibly?) (2017)

-My love, I'd do anything for you. Society's hell. You need me just like I need you.

-You know me well. My love, I'd do anything for you.

-We all go our own ways, separately in the same direction, and here am I every night of my life always missing someone. I'd like to be rotted out just before I become aware of the pain. The more I wish in my heart for someone less likely they come.

-Never Again Will I Be A Twin (2017) (Possibly?)

-Never again will I be a twin. The operation went well, but the patient died. Never again will there be a smile to wipe off my face once it's too much. In a twin-like realm, in the plastic arts of falling in love, what a joke that was. What a joke that was.

-Darling, I Hug A Pillow (2020)

-Darling, I hug a pillow in absence of you. Darling, I hug a pillow to replace your face. Loving you is a trauma no one else should face, or sit still for. Why can't you give me some physical love?

-Darling, you will cry for me in the years to come. In the hope of a moment that cannot return...thankfully. Why can't you bring figs all pulpy and moist? Roasted in passion and salty in voice? No longer keeping a secret of your secret place.

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[meganwritesfanfics]

Clandestine Meeting (Joel Miller x Reader) Chapter 4

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Joel Miller x Reader

After getting caught by Tess, Joel gets some opinions from both her and Tommy about his relationship with the Reader.

Word Count: 1272

Rating M: For later chapters, angst.

“Tess,” Joel sighed as he ran his hand over his face. 

“Oh you’re Tess,” Y/N quickly said. “Hi, I am Y/N, I…” 

“I know who you are.” Tess quickly snapped her eyes never once looking at Y/N instead she glared at Joel. 

“Oh, right. Listen I’m sorry about the clothes, I will figure out a way to wash them and bring them back…” 

“Keep them.” 

“Really it’s no problem I…” Y/N started when suddenly Tess turned her attention towards Y/N and glared. “Right.” Y/N squeaked. “Um, Joel I think I better get going, thank you for everything today. I will see you around.” 

Joel didn’t say anything in response as Y/N quickly snuck out the door. 

“Tess…” Joel started. 

“What the fuck Joel, what the fuck was Miss Goodie Two Shoes doing in our apartment.” 

“She had asked for my help and I…” 

“And you jumped at the chance, anything to get you more points towards getting lucky with her right?” 

“That’s not…” 

“Jesus Christ Joel, she is half your age, not to mention married to a F.E.D.R.A. officer. What are you thinking?” Tess snapped as she stormed into the kitchen and poured herself a drink. 

“It’s not like that.” Joel snapped. 

“Oh yeah sure it isn’t, I saw the way you were looking at her.” Tess took a giant swig, and then she sighed placing the cup back on the counter. “Listen, I don’t care who you fuck, but that girl, she tends to cause a lot of fucking problems around here and draws a lot of attention, and that is the last thing we need.” 

“I know that Tess, fuck I wasn’t… I didn’t… she had asked for my help, and I helped that is all.” 

“Well next time she comes around asking for help, tell her to fuck off, alright.” 

“Alright.” Joel agreed. He knew Tess was right, he knew that getting himself involved in anyway with Y/N would just lead to trouble. And that was the last thing he needed or wanted especially if it caused any trouble for Tess or Tommy. 

With the thought of Tommy, Joel quickly headed for the door. Tess didn’t say a word, that wasn’t their relationship. Joel and Tess knew each others boundaries, they knew when to care and when to back off. But they also knew that neither one were dependent on the other. They were two separate people who had a common goal, staying alive, and keep those they cared about alive. And right now the only people on that list were each other and Tommy. There was no need for her to ask where Joel was going, They both trusted each other enough to know that they would never do anything to jepordize the life they had built. So she let Joel leave. Even though in the back of her mind she still couldn’t stop thinking about the way Joel looked at Y/N and how much she wished that he looked at her the same way. 

Joel angrily stormed his way to Tommy’s place. When they had first moved into Boston, Tommy had insisted that he have his own place. After everything Joel and Tommy had been through, he needed space from his brother. So much to Joel’s dismay, Tommy had a different apartment. And much to Tommy’s dismay it just happened to be down the hall from Joel’s. 

As he reached the front door, Joel banged on it angrily. “Tommy!” He shouted. 

“Joel, I saw you less than 4 hours ago what could you…” Tommy started when Joel grabbed him back his shirt collar and pushed him into the apartment. 

“Did you know about the attack today.” Joel snarled. 

“What?” 

“The bomb, just down the road, did you plant that?” 

Tommy had joined the Fireflies almost immediately after they had moved to the QZ. Joel had been livid, but he also recognized that maybe this was Tommy’s twisted way of making up for the things that they had done. Maybe he thought this was saving people. 

“Joel you know I can’t tell you that.” 

Joel instantly socked Tommy square in the jaw. 

“What the fuck!” Tommy gasped. 

“There were people in that building you bombed, innocent people. I pulled a woman out of there that’s foot was completely crushed, if she survives she is never going to be able to walk again. What is she supposed to do then? You think F.E.D.R.A. isn’t going to give a shit, that she can’t walk. How is she going to feed herself Tommy. Jesus fuck. And there were kids in there Tommy. Fucking kids. We pulled a three year old out of there with a head injury whose parents died. You still think your firefly fucks are the good guys?” 

Tommy stood there, stunned. He knew that Joel was against the fireflies. Hell Joel had been extremely vocal about how much he didn’t like that Tommy was a part of them. But nothing like this. 

“You and Tess, you were helping people?” He asked. 

Joel froze. He hadn’t thought through what sort of questions his reaction would arise. And he was not at all equipped to handle them. 

“No, uh. Not Tess.” Joel responded quickly. 

“Then who is we?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Y/N Kelley?” Tommy sighed. “Fuck Joel, please tell me you don’t mean Y/N Kelley.” 

“She asked for my help Tommy. I wasn’t going to say no.” 

“Why the fuck not, you have said no to plenty of people before. Why now? Is it cause some pretty piece of ass comes knocking at your door…” 

“Watch your mouth!” Joel snapped. 

Tommy sighed. 

“Joel, F.E.D.R.A. does not like her, the Fireflies do not like her. The only people who like her are the citizens. She causes so many problems.” 

“She helps people Tommy. Is that a fucking crime?” 

“It is when you are married to a fucking F.E.D.R.A officer.” Tommy snapped. “She is dangerous. Now I don’t know how you know her, and I don’t know why you seem to care so much about her, but you need to stop. She could get you in deep shit with F.E.D.R.A. or worse killed.” 

Joel sighed. “I helped her the one time, ok, that’s it.” 

“Good, and that better be it.” 

Joel rolled his eyes as he turned and left without saying another word. 

As he walked into the hallway he walked straight into Y/N. 

“I’m sorry…” Y/N started when she saw that it was Joel. “Oh just the person I was looking for.” 

Joel looked over his shoulder making sure that the door to Tommy’s apartment was shut, before he roughly grabbed Y/N’s arm and lead her down the hall. 

“What the hell are you doing back here?” He snapped and Y/N was taken aback by his aggressive tone. 

“I just wanted to thank you again for your help today.” Y/N said as she stared into Joel’s eyes. 

“Alright you thanked me now go.” 

“What the fuck Joel?” Y/N snapped. “Why are you acting like this.” 

“Because I have wasted my whole afternoon with you, missed my shift, and now you are back trying to take up more of my fucking time.” He sneered. 

Y/N froze her mouth agape with shock. It took her a moment to compose herself before she ripped her elbow out of his grasp. “Fuck you.” She snapped as she stormed away, leaving Joel in the hallway alone, his heart broken. 

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[number9robotic]

Random personal character/worldbuilding

I wanted to design at some point an original roster of fighting game characters and my life spiralled out of control thinking of new ideas so I gotta share what I got:

Pitch: It's about a group of superpowered teens who get sent to a school training them how to be good superVILLAINS.

Slightly more specifics: The world is like ours but there are supers around. There exists a school for "superpowered opportunists" that is ostensibly to raise up-and-coming supers but is very transparently corrupt and just a legally-permissible way to raise future allies to whatever mustache-twirling nonsense they have cooking up. The students are sourced from all over the world and are mostly good kids, but they have wild powers to deal with that are very easy to look at and go "yep, they're born to join the dark side."

Character list at the moment:

"Anti" (Canadian), timid but ambitious, well-behaved, reasonably "normal" kid from the suburbs who discovered that their shadow is alive, and can rise up and kill people. Was involuntarily sent to the school by their parents who believed it would be a good fit, for better and for worse. Now basically trying to survive. Fights with a quarterstaff, shadow deals its own attacks, turns staff into a scythe and other scary sharp things, wants its host to join in the fun.

"Hellgirl" ("Eastern European"), a princess to an impoverished noble family who -- in a desperate bid for power -- sacrificed her as part of a draconic ritual, with her coming back as this cursed half-dragon that has to be bound in magic tampering chains to stop her from ripping peoples' heads off. Genuinely a proper lady and actually kind of a sweetheart when lucid. Requires a buncha physical accomodations but can still fight even when in chains. Also, breathes hellfire. Cool beans.

"Smoggy/The Vigilante Smog Monster" (Australian), a living swamp monster summoned by an Aboriginal tribe who believed him to be a guardian spirit, and though he had no idea what they were talking about, he remained their guardian until he was separated and stumbled into scouting agents for the school. Shifts between a gross, sludgy humanoid form and horror smoke with the power of ancient wooden masks he keeps around him. Huge and imposing, but surprisingly a pretty swell dude.

"IDKYS/I Don't Know You, Sorry" (Filipino), aspiring would-be idol whose voice has overpowering hypnotic properties -- got enrolled in the school in order for her to develop her skillset without it. Ostensibly like a "cute mute" sorta scholarly student, actually very, very salty. Wears a cool mask that converts her voice to text and then back to into monotone text-to-speech (for safety reasons), is also rigged to an amplifier mic on a stand that she wields like a mace, has the power to blast people apart with SFX.

"Twintails" (Japanese), a transforming kitsune wizard/ninja who is two separate people from different secretive clans in one: a male wizard and a female ninja, who got "fused" together by a trickster yokai that caused them to share the same body, swapping between identities whenever they sneeze. They're both aware of each other and hate each other, habitually accusing the other for being the imposter yokai cohabiting their body, but are forced to work together to make it work.

"Metal Alice" (French), what was once the innocent young daughter to a supervillain, who perished following his last evil plan gone wrong. After attempting to resurrect her, Little Alice's spirit was "restored" into an old doll-like animatronic, which is itself now a walking portal to the ghost dimension. Is able to draw various weapons of phantasmic metals out of her body, from speared parasols to chainsaws. The "cute" kind of scary!

"Magnum" (American), the newest cyborg prototype from a company for mad scientist tech, designed of indestructible metals. Has the power to explode virtually any joint in his body like a bomb before automatically reassembling. Does it to fire his fingers/arms like projectiles, and is also a grappler. Was sent to the school to fix his raging ego problem. Speaks and dresses like a cowboy and has a nice hat. Deal with it.

"Hotshot" (Chinese), a guy who thinks and acts like he's the "shotoclone" protagonist of a normal fighting game (arrogant young martial artist with fire powers and always rearing for a fight), but is too arrogant to realize that this isn't the kind of story he's in (and also that he's a jackass). Despite this, he's very popular by way of the popular jock/bully who's a total dickhead but also so cooooool, and definitely the best student at a straight-on fight.

"Vioelectrolysis" (Motswana), a mad scientist in training who just LOVES making her crazy super-chemicals technicolor and do weird and unexpected things. Carries a bunch of it around in this modified fire extinguisher/gas tank that she can use to spray various super-fluids or swing around like a flail. Has a gas mask for her own protection; may or may not have mutated herself with something cool at some point.

"Marmaron" (Greek), an incomplete statue of a marble-like material that accidentally came to life while being made by a mysterious artist that Marmaron proceeded to kill, supposedly in self-defense. Doesn't have a face or a finished hand, splashed paint where his face should be to look even scarier presentable. Has the power to turn people into stone, but only temporarily. Spends his time minding his own business with painting and poetry, doesn't mind that everyone thinks he's creepy as hell.

[ask-the-critters-survival-au]

Static crawls out from the monitor... and reaches out not just to the three who carry it... but a certain pink child as well.

“I… normally make it a rule to wait to send another message until my last one was received… but I do not have patience to wait that long sadly. It is… Children, while this message is intended for all of you, this is to address Picky’s claim that and I quote here, “They. Were never. My friends. Not DogDay. Not Hoppy. Not Bobby, not Crafty, NONE OF THEM. They made that clear when they all left me behind.”... I apologize for recording your voice without permission, child, it was the only way I could think of to get around the others not being able to hear you. As for your statement itself… Well let’s break it down shall we?”

“Dogday- I have already covered where he is. Being tortured without his lower half being hanged off of a wall while surrounded by little critters that have proven themselves to be quite capable of crawling inside of Dogday and puppering his still breathing body around while nibbling at his insides. I didn’t wish to share that final detail, but you're starting to force my hand. He is currently WORSE OFF then if he would have been running away and abandoning you all. With how you talk about him… shouldn’t you be happy Catnap is doing such a thing to him?”

“Hoppy… well of course not now you're trying to eat her. But never your friend? Never? You could have said no longer my friend but instead something as strong as never? Child… that kind of line comes from someone who values that friendship greatly and from a perceived betrayal hard commits the other way. I do not know why Hoppy chose to leave you other than the very valid- and you must agree this is a valid reason, “Catnap is a Psychopath”. And then there's another question… once you took Hoppy’s foot you didn’t chase her. You let her go instead of even trying to stop her… You only started hunting her when you had the bond forged by my deals… but why didn’t you try beforehand? Your care for her twisted into a reason of “Food for later” or “I’m already eating”... instead of chasing the bigger meal?”

“Bobby… again I don’t wish to speak for her when she’s listening to this but… I can put two and two together Picky. Do you know about Crafty’s hands child? Recently through another random memory share (Yes that is happening and I have no idea why children I am sorry for that), the memory of Crafty bothering Catnap aggressively for more red paint to draw with before Catnap pins her, which was honestly valid, and then rips off her hands, which was just really fucked up. Can you not tell me that Bobby would not take Crafty away from Catnap who disabled her? To keep her safe from that?”

“As much as you claim that the others left you behind, does this not paint a different picture? Does this not say something else child? Then let’s go further with those who do stay by you.”

“Bubba is insane and needs very real help he cannot get because the prototype does not allow you all to leave. Depending on how far he’s degraded… does he really have a rational choice to leave you? If he left it wouldn't be because he truly wanted to but some insane whim.”

“Kickin is… a can of worms we haven’t even begun to get at. We haven’t seen him enough to make any guesses as to why he stays. Could be fear… or his care being stronger than fear. I will point out that I do find it incredibly strange he isn’t dead. You said earlier that the only reason Catnap didn’t fully kill Kickin, only horribly mutilated him for going into the playhouse, was because he was still useful… How? Objectively how does Kickin have value- how does Bubba have value and use? Both of them are from what we have seen potentially more problems than their worth and two more mouths to feed.”

“Why do you keep them alive, and why does Catnap keep them alive? Catnap is… complicated. He joined in on the hour… which was justified if not too overboard with killing the innocents and especially killing the kids, either by actually harming them or dooming them to die of starvation down here. Failed to kill Leith Pierre and probably a few of the people behind the experiments, that sucks. Then helped the prototype keep you all trapped down here! Helped keep you all starving! Helped keep you all in torment even while he for some reason doesn’t have the heart to kill anyone!”

“It’s not black and white Picky. The situation is complicated. The emotions are complicated. And that and the following goes to the other three listening to this as well. It’s okay if your feelings are confused. It’s okay to both love and hate someone at the same time. It’s okay to feel betrayed even after all of that was explained. It’s okay to be paranoid about being hurt again, especially in this situation… but please don’t ignore this. Don’t just hide that with rage and lies.”

“Picky… I hate to say this with the others listening but… if you're really going to commit to this, commit to murdering them… do it for the real emotions you have. Don’t lie and make excuses. Be real with yourself at least okay? Even if you hate feeling that way… even if you’re scared to feel that way… those emotions are valid, and hating feeling those emotions are valid.”

“Make the choice you want to make with no regrets, child. Disregard food, because I can make that no issue. Disregard Catnap, for he deserves nothing from you. Disregard the current hunt and petty reasons that don't truly matter.”

“Do you want this child? To permanently lose those three bonds that maybe someday could be mended anew… by your own hands?”

“Until next time children… please all of you, be safe.”

(Breaking one of my rules for this but that last answer made me have FEELINGS I needed to share. Hope your having a great day Mod! Remember the hydrate!)

SHUT UP! shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP!

Um…Are you going through something?

I don’t get it. We never left her behind. We told her she could come but she said no. I mean…that’s what Hoppy told us.

Haha…yeah.

[Mod note: Thank you for reminding me! I tend to forget drinking water is a thing I need to do to survive 😅]

[laugtherhyena]

I've seen a bunch of people draw the start of their clangen saves so i wanted to do the same! Here's the original Orangeclan cats from way back in December when i started playing this game

More info on them under the cut

Orangeclan lives in the mountain cliff and as far as backstory goes i always imagined that they used to live in caves/tunnels but a huge flood happened and their clan was decimated. Despite being pretty old when this happened Sleetfur was able to dig a way out of the cave/tunnel and save himself, his mate and Sparkblotch's family from drowning, his beavery was rewarded by starclan giving him nine lives and giving him the mission of rebuilding the clan.

Sleetstar would later scout the area after the flood passed to look for more survivors from his clan, which led to him finding and rescuing Asterswoop, Spikefreckle, Tigerbush, Forestpaw and Slightpaw. He then guided the cats to the mountain top because be believed that being all the way up there would keep the clan safe from any other natural disasters that happened down bellow.

Dont ask why they're called Orangeclan btw, i didn't out any thought on the name. I was having a lot of save problems and had 3 other clans before this one that i couldn't save and i thought it was gonna be the same for them so i didn't bother picking up a cool name and went with the first randomized option.

Now into the cats themsleves

I already talked a bit about Sleetstar but i love him so much :(, i don't get why people never pick older cats to be leaders, maybe it's different in the newer version of clangen but my guy would rarely lose lives let alone get sick or injured. He was a strong man! And a very good leader, he wals always trying to set a good example to his clanmates.

He is mates with Shadowpelt and they were very sweet, tho i don't have much to say about Shadowpelt because he died on my first timeskip and then i got sas because his last though was about growing old with Sleetstar 💔

Tigerbush was my first medicine cat and one of the only cats from this image that's still alive in current Orangeclan, i have no idea how, this man is absolute ancient and refuses to retire. Crusty old cat is only leaving the medicine den on his coffin at this point.

Spikefreckle was pretty cool? The cats liked her as a deputy and she was always looking out to the younger cats in clan, but unfortunately i also don't have much to say about her since she also died pretty early on when i send a patrol to investigate a badger den. Which sucked because she had such a cool design :(

While no cat at the start of a clangen save os related i always pictured Sparkblotch being Pigeonpelt and Fadedgaze's mother, she was very nice and spent most of her days as a sweet old lady looking over the clan's kits. Her sons are pretty cool too, Fadedgaze is very chill and Pigeonpelt is such a guy!! He's a little shy and adopted two abandoned kits that grew up to be called Doveheart and Hailhawk! Bird fam!

The there's Asterswoop who's the cat with the biggest swag around, they're full of themselves and think they're the best warrior ever. But he's not a jerk, they were always pretty helpful just a lil annoying. I absolutely love his fur pattern and it sucks ass that none of his kids got the same harsh white divide :(

Speaking of kids, they're family was kinda of a mess, they got together with an ex-loner and had two kits but quickly divorced and the ex went ton to marry Fadedgaze shortly after. Who she also had kits with and divorced to get together with another cat shortly after-

Lastly we have Forestpaw and Slightpaw who grew up to be Forestpoppy/star and Slightstreak, god there's so much to say about these two and their fucked up relationship. Being the only two young warriors in the clan there was pressure from their clanmates for them to get together and bring kits to the clan, which they did but their relationship was by no means good or healthy.

Slightstreak was a pool of negativity always complaining about everything and everyone, their son Woodkit was born around the time Forestpoppy was appointed as deputy and many times she put her job over being around for the kid, leaving Woodkit to be around his other mom most of the time, who was seemingly never satisfied or proud of anything he accomplished.

They actually divorced right after Woodshade became a warrior which was fucking hilarious to me

[harper-sherman]

In honor of Robert Fuller's 90th (!!!) birthday today (July 29, 2023), I'm posting about meeting him last month at the MidSouth Nostalgia Festival. @sportstudfan put me up to this, lol. Hope y'all enjoy it!

The MidSouth Nostalgia Festival was held on June 8-10 in Olive Branch, Mississippi. That's just south of Memphis, Tennessee for anyone like me who had never heard of the place. The festival brought together a bunch of classic actors (and one or two contemporary), who mainly appeared in Westerns but from some other genres as well.

The first morning we were there, we got right in line to schedule a time to see Robert, or Bob as his fans call him. Most guests had tables that you could walk right up to, but such is his popularity that his fan club orchestrates time slots to make sure everyone who attends has time to speak with him and get autographs and photos. It was a pretty good system, I believe we waited less than 2 hours. We were able to get into his first group of the day. When Bob showed up, he walked right by the line and greeted everyone very enthusiastically and gave out hugs to some of the more eager fans. I could only smile as he went by because I was honestly starstruck by this point.

Once our turn came up, we probably got a good five minutes talking to him. I got the impression he would've allowed us to stay even longer, but we tried to be sensitive to the others waiting to see him. We discussed some of his stunts, such as jumping onto Hoot (his horse) in Duel at Alta Mesa. He confirmed that yes, that was actually him and not a stunt actor. He also told us about breaking his leg on Wagon Train. There was a stunt involving a breakaway chair and he wanted to re-shoot it, but he neglected to check the chair beforehand. It had been replaced with an actual chair! We also talked about his quick draw abilities, and he informed us he had been clocked at 28/100ths of a second. Talk about fast! Before we left his table, we got his autograph on a photo from his Emergency! days. If I ever get to meet Randy Mantooth, I plan to point out that Bob's signature went over his forehead, so he can give him Hell about it.

Something that really amused me watching Bob interact with his fans is how much attention he gives everyone. He was more than happy to hand out hugs and kissed many of the women in attendance. He even autographed a woman's chest (upper sternum, lol) so she could get it tattooed. Keep in mind most of the fans were middle-aged or elderly women, who had fallen in love with him during their youth. The guy's still got it!

We also attended a few panels. The photo below is from one of them; from left to right we have Tony Cameron (son of Rod Cameron, one of my favorite Laramie guest actors), Patrick Wayne (2nd son of John Wayne), the panel interviewer, and Bob. All of the guys were really enjoyable to listen to. Tony is dedicated to keeping his dad's legacy alive and is just a lovely person in his own right. Patrick was very funny and used his some of his time on the panel to advocate for the John Wayne Cancer Foundation.

There was also a panel with Bob and his wife Jennifer Savidge that I unfortunately did not take pictures of. Those two are great together, they had everyone laughing and you could really tell how much they love one another. Jennifer is also incredibly gracious about the attention Bob gets from his fans. She's a wonderful actress in her own right, having been on her own medical series St. Elsewhere, JAG, and much more.

The MSNF also had vendor tables where you could purchase comic books, memorabilia, or even original art. One woman rented a vendor table so she could share her miniature Sherman Ranch! She removed the roofs so we could see inside the ranch house and barn. She also told us she has swappable backgrounds for different times of year. We were really impressed with the detail and talent that went into her creation.

On the last day of the festival, we had a photo taken with Bob and Jennifer. We dressed up as Slim and Jess. The first thing Bob said to us was "Wow!", so I think he liked the outfits. ;) On the way out, a few other fans in line stopped us to tell us how much they liked our costumes, which felt really great.

And that was pretty much it! It was honestly one of the more laid-back conventions I've been to. I wasn't used to having a bunch of downtime between the things I wanted to do. It was also a little weird being one of the younger fans there, but everyone was pretty nice and we were all there for the same reason: to meet Bob!

Bonus pic: while in Memphis we visited the largest Bass Pro Shop I've ever seen, known as The Pyramid. The inside looks like outdoors (as is normal with every Bass Pro), but it was lit like nighttime with string lights and stuff. Along with the usual fish tanks, there was a pond with ducks. I unfortunately did not pay to ride the elevator to the observation deck.

[whumpflash]

Penumbra: Unchained

for Angstpril, Day 5: (alt) Serious Injury

cw: torture, hand whump, general brutality, broken bones

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

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Two priests, each trained in truth and the magic of the mind, were but a few days' journey away, and Cerus remained as stubborn as ever.

The fallen king had been a prisoner for weeks now, denied all but that which kept him alive and under constant abuse at the hands of the guards. Beaten and tortured, then healed only to have the cycle start anew. And despite it all, he refused to yield even an inch.

Every time Nisha removed the bit, they were met with curses and threats and insults. It didn't matter if they were asking questions or offering sustenance. Cerus would not bow.

Though they knew the soon-to-arrive priests would take care of the kingdom's worries of blood magic, Nisha still felt as if they'd failed at their task. Granted, they knew it wasn't wholly their fault. Breaking a man took time, especially someone so steeped in pride and immorality as Cerus, but despite that, they wished they could've given the holy mages someone more…pliable to work with.

Perhaps they still could.

The Shadow King was lying on his back when Nisha entered the cell, chained limbs still spread wide to further restrict movement. His torso and thighs were littered with scourge marks from the previous night's session, half-healed by a mage to keep him from sinking too far into delirium. Weeks of meager food and near-immobilization had left his body visibly weakened, and one would be hard pressed to find even an inch of unbruised skin.

"Our time together is drawing to a close, you know," Nisha said, kneeling to remove the bit in Cerus's mouth. "In a matter of days, your fate will be decided. How does that make you feel?"

"I'll strike your men down the moment I step out of this cell. And I'll save you for last so you can watch them d—nghhh!"

Nisha dug a finger into one of the gashes over his ribcage, turning his threat into a strangled scream.

"And why haven't you struck down any of my men yet, hm? Biding your time?"

"If I weren't in chains you wouldn't dare be so bold," Cerus snapped.

Suddenly, Nisha had an idea. "Then perhaps I'll remove them and prove you wrong," they said.

"You are a fool."

"Perhaps." They stood, moving to the gauntlets that rendered Cerus's hands immobile, and began to unlatch them. The Shadow King flexed weak fingers as Nisha removed each metal glove, seemingly at a loss for words.

"You're mad," he said at last. "What are you hoping to achieve?"

"I only wish to see if you're capable of following through with your promises."

"Unchain me and see."

"Not yet."

Nisha made a point to take off the blindfold before moving to the wall of implements and selecting a heavy cudgel. They decided to leave the bit out. They wanted to see if Cerus was capable of begging after all.

The fallen king's face went ashen when he saw the weapon in Nisha's hands, and they relished the barely-concealed fear in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Cerus said. It sounded more like a threat than a question, but Nisha didn't care, encroaching slowly, silently on their target.

"What are you doing?" Cerus demanded again, louder, more desperate.

"If I'm going to remove your chains, I need to ensure you can't run away," Nisha said plainly, stopping at Cerus's feet, raising the cudgel over a pale, bruised shin, and bringing it down just above the ankle.

The crunch wasn't unlike a sound they'd heard in battle, the scream that followed much the same. The only difference was how both sounds cut through the quiet in the cell, undiluted.

Once Cerus's screams died out, Nisha moved to the other leg, waiting for the look of horror to cross the chained man's face, the realization that it was going to happen again, before bringing the cudgel down a second time.

The resulting scream was just as rewarding as the first had been, something gutteral, animalistic. More than Nisha had been able to drag out of him so far. As before, they waited for the screams to soften before moving on. This time, to Cerus's exposed right hand.

Enclosed as his hands had been, they were unmarred, looking out of place compared to the rest of his body. Nisha would remedy that.

Cerus's eyes were wild with pain and fear, body shaking and straining against the chains, as if he were capable of doing anything to save himself. Nisha tapped the hand gently, as if marking their target, then raised the cudgel high in the air—

"D-don't— stop, stop, or you'll regret this night—" Cerus gasped out. Still making threats. What a pity.

Nisha brought their weapon crashing down onto the hand, and then, when the first strike didn't quite satisfy, hit it again, drawing another inhuman shriek from Cerus. And as Nisha moved to stand next to their final target—

"No, please, please stop, please!" The words came out as sobs, barely intelligible, but they left Nisha grinning broadly. A victory at last.

They raised the cudgel—

"Please! Please!"

—and brought it down, twice in quick succession. 

They drank in Cerus's ragged whimpers as they hung the cudgel back in its place, then moved to unlock the manacles that bound him.

His chest heaved as they moved from shackle to shackle, unclasping each in turn.

"What— why?" He barely got the words out.

"You're unchained," Nisha said. "Strike me down."

Cerus didn't respond, shaking arms folding in to cradle shattered hands to his chest, legs curling as he rolled onto his side with a great effort, eyes glazed over with pain.

"Strike me down," Nisha repeated, not taking his silence as an answer. They delivered a hard kick to Cerus's torso, then another. A scream tore itself from the man's throat as their foot connected with his wrist.

"Will you?" They continued their assault, heedless of Cerus's choked cries. "Will you?"

When at last they stopped, they were panting heavily, sweat trickling down the back of their neck. Nisha swallowed.

"I thought not." They ran a hand through their hair, tucking wayward strands back. "Count yourself lucky that the priests are expecting answers, or I would've cut out your tongue too."

They left without reattaching his chains; a small mercy. 

He'd be back in them soon enough.

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@whumpwillow @rabbitdrabbles @kixngiggles

[writtenjewels]

One Thousand Ways

The repository was home to many different stories. It was his job as curator to watch over them all. “Watch” being the key word; he was not to interfere. And as he watched, he found something interesting. He remembered a phrase: constants and variables.

In stories where Jason and Salim existed together, the Curator saw certain constants emerging. There was almost always some conflict between them at the start.

Jason stiffened when he saw the dryad at his private oasis. He bristled, needles sliding out of his skin to prepare to fight. The date palm dryad saw him and instead of flinching away from the needles, merely held the cactus nymph's gaze.

Salim held his weapon at the ready but he didn't move to strike the vampire standing before him. All of his training as a hunter told him to attack this creature but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when he could still see humanity in those eyes.

He rushed in to find Nick with an enemy soldier. Jason immediately pointed his gun at the man, who pointed a gun right back. They shouted threats at each other while Nick desperately tried to diffuse the situation.

Something would draw the two men together despite all the odds.

Childish handwriting detailed seemingly impossible qualities: tall, dark, and handsome; speaks more than one language; tells dumb jokes. Jason fed the fire and chanted the words along with his sister. There was no way this love spell would actually work.

He knew all the stories about the cursed one, but Salim couldn't worry about them now. Zain had gone missing and Tariq said they were near the castle last he saw his friend. Salim had no choice but to cross the barrier and somehow rescue his son.

The assault was over but Jason lost track of his team. He could hear someone coming and raised his weapon just in case. A figure stepped out and he realized he recognized this man: it was one of the Iraqi soldiers. The one he and Nick captured temporarily. Salim, his memory supplied.

The two men would grow to trust each other and see beyond the initial hatred. They didn't always fall in love, but even in the stories where they didn't there was a close bond. And there was something else, a motif that followed them in their stories.

Jason was appointed Salim's bodyguard, acting as a shield against attackers... Salim found a fire poker and brandished it like a sword... Salim as a knight, wielding a sword in battle... Jason as the moon with a polished shield reflecting light to the world... Jason keeping his emotions at bay to shield himself... Salim with a pen in hand claiming how it was mightier than a sword... Salim as the fighter, Jason as the protector... Safety, healing...

“We must fight as one,” Salim insisted. “The sword and the shield.”

The Curator watched them live together and die together; he was witness as only one made it out alive to mourn the other's loss. Their stories played out in a thousand different ways and more. In his line of work, the Curator didn't use words such as “destiny”. However, he couldn't find one more fitting to describe these two men.

And he knew that in the next story, the two would find their way to each other again.

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 29: Love and War

Summary: What is there left to take from Zena McGlamery that could possibly hurt her? Warnings: war, mentions of death, guns Taglist: @latibvles @liebgotts-lovergirl @lady-cheeky @mrs-murder-daddy @ithinkabouttzu @lieutenant-speirs

Haguenau, 1945

Laying on her stomach beside Liebgott, the machine gun between them, Zenie can feel her heart trembling in her chest as they wait. The darkness is thick between them. Like a heavy blanket over the river, the night obscures the water that fifteen men are about to cross. Babe, Earl, Popeye, Skinny, and Shifty are among them. Zenie bites the inside of her cheek whenever their faces flash before her mind’s eye. All the laughs they’ve ever shared, all their shared hardship these past few years, everything feels heavy within some deep place in her heart. A lump that makes it hard to swallow gums up her throat whenever she thinks about Shifty especially.

He had managed to whisk her off to the privacy of a back room after he was briefed about the patrol. A thousand different thoughts had tried to tumble out of Zenie’s mouth all at once, only to get stuck there as she let out breathless gasps that she tried to choke by covering her mouth. Shifty had held her close, letting her bury her face in his shoulder. “I know,” he had whispered.

Some part of her understands all of Shifty’s original reluctance about their relationship now. They left Bastogne and the end of the war felt so close at hand. Everyone said that the Krauts were finished. It had seemed, for the blink of an eye, like they could make it. And now they’re being tossed right back into the fray. One more chance for everything to go all to hell.

“Listen,” Shifty had said, pulling away so that they could look at each other. “It’s just a patrol. I’m not leadin’ it, so you don’t have to worry as much.”

“Shifty – “

He had cut her off, rushing to reassure her – though they both know that there is no fairness, no guarantee of any kind in love and war. “You’re stayin’ over here. And as long as you’re here, I have a reason to make it back. That’s my objective: to make it back to where you are.”

But what if you don’t? she can’t bring herself to ask. Bill had once said that they were going to be okay with the upmost confidence, only to then be sent home with a leg missing.

Shifty’s hold is firm when he takes hold of Zenie’s hand and brings it to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of her hand, pausing there for a moment before he pulls it away. The saddest smile that Zenie has ever seen finds its way to his lips as he looks at her one last time. Then he leaves, off to prepare with the others who are going on the patrol.

So now Zenie waits. For any sort of signal from the men across the river. For any sort of sign. She waits.

Several times, Liebgott draws a breath, like he’s about to say something, only to remain quiet. Finally, he sighs. “You think that West Point replacement will make it back alive?”

What was the new lieutenant’s name? Probably not a promising sign that Zenie can’t remember, but in her defense, there’s been a lot on her mind. From what she does remember about him, he had seemed overeager and reserved.

“He better,” she mutters. “Everyone I care about is crossing that river.”

“We’re lucky it isn’t us,” Liebgott says. He scoffs, shaking his head. “Hell, it almost was. All of second platoon was picked, but we managed to get left behind. Guess they had to have at least a few people left, that way they still have someone to throw to the dogs next time.”

“All of second platoon?”

“Yeah.” Liebgott turns to face her, his brows knitted together beneath the shadow of his helmet. “You didn’t know that?”

Zenie shakes her head. “I was helping Luz all morning.”

“Yeah, all of second was originally picked,” Liebgott explains. “I only got out of it because they decided we didn’t need two translators, so they sent Webster instead.”

Webster. She had forgotten about him. Hadn’t he been the one who took the shot in the leg in Holland? Where has he been all this time?

“I was taken off, too?”

Liebgott nods.

“Why?” Zenie doesn’t speak German. It’s not like the same explanation can be applied to her. She didn’t even know that she had been assigned to the patrol. Until a few seconds ago, it had seemed like a cruel twist of fate that she wasn’t.

“Shifty,” Liebgott says simply, as if that explains everything. When Zenie doesn’t reply, his brows furrow even further together. “Goddamn, Driver, you really haven’t heard anything about any of this, huh? When they picked Second Platoon for the patrol, Shifty pointed out that you and Malarkey are the ones leading the platoon, since we have no officers. He told Captain Speirs he didn’t think it was fair to make you go on this, considering . . .” He doesn’t have to say it – she’s been on the front line since the beginning, and she just lost some of her closest friends. Liebgott tilts his head, and through the night, she can just make out a smile. “Funny, I think it’s the most I’ve ever heard Shifty talk. Didn’t know he had it in him.”

 It's disheartening, really, that some of the men in the company will never know the Shifty that Zenie knows. The Shifty whose cheeks tinge the slightest pink when she compliments him, or who looks so handsome and so at home while trekking through the woods. But also the Shifty whose touch is gentle and whose lips are soft and whose voice is raspy and deep first thing in the morning.

Actually, she realizes that she would prefer to keep those last bits for herself.

“He’s a good man,” is all Zenie can say. “A good friend.”

Across the river, an explosion reverberates across the water and a flash of orange stains the inky darkness. The report of gunshots and voices yelling follow. Something has happened. For better or worse. On this side of the river, it’s impossible to tell.

Liebgott grips the machine gun. “Get ready,” he says.

More commotion, which feels like it goes on forever. Everyone on this side of the river waits, waits, waits impatiently as sounds echo through the darkness, punctuated by the occasional flashes of light. Is that her imagination, or in the midst of it all, are those screams?

“Jesus Christ, come on, blow the goddamned whistle!” Joe yells over the noise.

The signal finally sounds, a shrill whistle that shatters the night. Water splashes below them as the patrol hurries back to their side of the river. The machine gun vibrates to life beside her, spitting fire into the night as Liebgott squeezes the trigger and Zenie feeds the hungry weapon the ammunition. Every burst of gunfire punctuates the running please, please, please running through her mind with exclamation points.

For a while, their only existence is for Liebgott to point, shoot, point, shoot, point shoot, and for Zenie to diligently provide ammunition. Even when the bombardment slows, when the patrol are no longer adding their fire to the tumult, they continue, shooting at wherever Liebgott thinks the Germans may be. Gunfire becomes less and less until there’s only the occasional explosion reverberating through the night.

Her own heavy breathing echoes through her ears like storm winds. It takes her a moment to register when it’s over. Liebgott relaxes, his fingers loosening from their tight grip on the machine gun. He slaps her on the shoulder in what’s either meant to be a congratulatory or a comforting gesture. Although he doesn’t speak, she knows exactly what he means – we got through it.

If she could, Zenie would run back inside, down the stairs, and off to wherever the men of the patrol might be. Instead, she and Liebgott quietly lug the machine gun back inside and stow it away before returning to one of the rooms that a few of the men have been occupying. The other men who provided covering fire are starting to converge there as well. Aside from a few nodded greetings or quiet requests to borrow a lighter, no one speaks. They recline on the bunk beds and other furniture, but no one sleeps. Instead, they wait.

Word comes soon enough: a casualty – Jackson, after getting blasted by his own grenade. Everyone else is okay, though, and they managed to bring back some Germans. Despite Jackson’s death, the upper echelon already seem to consider this a success – such a success that they want another patrol.

They all scoff when they hear the news. Of course they want another patrol. Of course they want Easy Company. And of course they want the men who so successfully pulled off the first one.

God, Zenie thinks, taking a seat by the window and staring out the glass as dawn begins to creep in, lighting the dark sky ever so subtly. People keep saying that the war is over, but at this rate, even if that’s true, no one from Easy is going to see it.

When Granny was still alive, she enjoyed going to the sunrise service at church on Easter Morning. Zenie dutifully went with her, even though it was cold and she was tired. And she’s willing to admit that watching that dark horizon fade from inky blackness to a thin strip of deep, rich blue as the pink and gold dawn crept through the fog and bedazzled the dew drops on the trees was beautiful. Even Zenie, with all her contrary religious beliefs, felt that the pastor’s ability to time the He is risen! Bible verse with the ascension of the morning sun was some sort of magic.

Now, watching the crumbling city become stained with the slightest hint of pink as the sun’s first rays sneak in, she waits once again to feel something – something other than frustration and fear, that is. Like the pastor’s dramatic timing, they need a miracle.

The new lieutenant appears, looking grim, and Zenie takes her leave, abandoning the grey clouds gathering in the room in search of sunshine.

She finds Shifty at the table with Popeye and McClung. None of them speak; they all smoke in silence. As for Zenie, her heart hammers in her chest when she sees them, despite the fact that she knew none of them were the ones who died.

“Morning,” Zenie says, her voice feeling like an intrusion on this scene. Her friends glance up at her, looking tired. Whatever adrenaline that fueled them to this point must be wearing off now. “Coffee?”

McClung cracks his neck, sighing in relief. He stands, grinding out his cigarette. “Not for me. Thanks, though, Tommy. I’m going to bed.”

“I don’t know how he can sleep,” Popeye says after McClung is gone and Zenie has poured him and Shifty both a cup of the watery coffee that Haguenau offers. “I’m all rattled. Can’t stop thinkin’. Might just keep drinkin’ this until the next patrol.”

Shifty winces, setting down his cup. “I don’t know how you could. One cup of this stuff is hard to get through.”

“You should sleep, Popeye,” Zenie suggests. After all, if they do well on this second patrol, will there be a third? A fourth? A fifth? When will it ever end? “Gotta stay sharp.” She asks then, because even though no one has said it, the question has weighed heavy on everyone’s minds since they heard about Jackson’s death. “Who’s on the next patrol?”

“Don’t know yet,” Popeye says.

Shifty mutters into his cup, “Take a guess.”

“Probably the same group. If it ain’t broke, and all that.”

“Wonder if they’ll replace him with anyone,” Zenie muses. It was bad enough to watch so many of those she cared about head out on that patrol. It will be worse this time. Yet in the lead up to that, it’s unbearable to look around and wonder who else might join the mix.  

Across the table from her, Shifty stiffens as if he’s just reached the same conclusion. Without meeting her eye, he pushes back his cup and stands with a sigh. “This ain’t doin’ it for me. I think I’ll try to sleep.”

Zenie cuts herself off before she can speak. Anything she could say – however she veils her real meanings, even if she tries to say them in Cherokee – would just come out awkwardly with Popeye sitting there as a witness. Don’t go, she doesn’t say. Don’t do this again. Don’t shut me out because you think it’s doing me some sort of good.

“Lucky if you can,” Popeye says.

As Shifty turns to leave, Zenie calls out to him, “Hey, Shifty.” But when he turns and looks back at her, all she can think to say is, “Don’t leave without saying goodbye tonight.”

The slightest frown tugs at Shifty’s lips. Is he facing the same conundrum as her, not being able to say what he wants? He nods. “I will,” he hesitates, then leaves her behind.

She could follow him, she knows, but would Popeye find it suspicious? Does Shifty even want her to try? Or, unlike all that time ago on that night in the brothel, should she just trust him?

“You want to play cards?” Popeye offers.

“No,” Zenie realizes aloud. She winces, sorry to leave her friend like this to chase after someone else. “I think I’m actually going to try and get some sleep, too.”

Maybe it’s not suspicious at all, how Zenie is conveniently leaving after Shifty. Or maybe Popeye is just too tired and too caffeinated to notice. He shrugs, taking a drink of his coffee in the manner that people usually reserve for shots of alcohol.

“Will you be okay?” she asks.

The Virginian nods. He smiles, in that sort of lopsided way that he does when he’s trying not to crack up too hard over one of his own remarks. “Yeah. I’d be better if the coffee tasted like actual coffee instead of water that someone thought real hard about coffee while pourin’, but I’ll be fine.”

“Hey,” Zenie scolds, making a move like she’s going to take the cup from him. “I made that coffee, Wynn. Watch yourself.”

He’s pouring himself another cup of coffee when Zenie leaves, and he’s probably downed half of it by the time that she catches up to Shifty in the stairwell. Surprise raises his eyebrows when he sees her, but not disappointment. He pauses on the landing, and Zenie jogs up the steps to join him.

“Don’t worry about hurting me,” she says when she catches up. Didn’t she get hurt enough in Bastogne? What is there left to take from Zena McGlamery that could possibly hurt her? The only thing she can think of: time that she could be spending with Shifty before he gets sent into the unknown again.

Shifty opens his mouth, shuts his mouth. Finally, his forehead scrunches up like it always does when he considers something. Then he nods. “Esga tsiyelvna.” I’m sorry.

But maybe we – he had said the first time they ever needed to have a serious conversation. I’m hopin’ that maybe after the war we can be together, he had later finished. When I was tryin’ to ask you to wait until after the war, I thought that I was protectin’ you.

She almost lost him once. After everything they’ve been through, she won’t make that mistake again.

She slips her hand into his. “No after the war like last time, okay? Just now.”  Because at this rate, we might not get to the end of this thing, she doesn’t say, but he still seems to understand.

“I don’t want to hurt you, if somethin’ happens tonight.” In Bastogne, Bill had told Shifty not to hurt her. He had promised that he wouldn’t. I would never, he had said.

Back when they weren’t speaking, her feelings had been hurt by all their miscommunications – a lot of which had been her own fault.

“The only way you could hurt me is by icing me out,” Zenie admits.

Shifty’s brow furrows. He studies their joined hands. His jaw is set, which makes the gesture look very firm when he finally nods. “Hawa. Let’s enjoy it while we can.”

It’s probably the closest that Shifty can come to making a pessimistic statement. It doesn’t last for long. Once they’re alone together in their usual room, they sit at the window, watching the daylight grow brighter over the sad city while they wait for the night to creep back in and separate them again.

When Zenie said “No after the war,” she meant waiting to be together until after the war. But here, sitting in uncertainty, Shifty’s mind drifts to that time that is simultaneously so tantalizingly close and so infuriatingly far away.

“When we get home,” he says. “I want a window like this where we can sit and watch the sun rise over the mountains.”

Zenie hums in agreement. She hasn’t allowed her mind to wander this far into a future with Shifty, but he’s already there, so it seems safe to meet him in it. “We could get a house way up in the mountains, right on top, like all the rich people have been building lately.”

“But our house will be better, see, because it will always smell like pie.”

She can’t help but laugh. “What kind of pie?”

He leans his head against her shoulder. It’s automatic, the way that Zenie begins to run her fingers through his hair. Even from this angle, she can see the small crease appear between his eyebrows as he considers his answer. “Chocolate, most of the time. Like my mama makes. But sweet potato in the fall.”

“I like pumpkin.”

“We can have both.”

“Maybe blueberry in the spring,” Zenie suggests. “Or cobbler. Can’t forget about that. Raspberry cobbler in July.”

Shifty sighs. “God, I miss real food.”

“We’ll have it soon enough.” There’s no telling where that assurance comes from. The rumors about the war coming to a close, maybe.

A gentle, sleepy mist that Zenie has only ever had the pleasure of hearing a handful of times creeps into Shifty’s voice. “Hmm. What else do we want in our house?”

“A dog,” Zenie suggests. “I’ve always wanted one.”

Against her shoulder, Shifty’s head moves ever so slightly as he tries to nod. “We can do that,” is the last thing he says before he drifts off to sleep with Zenie still running her fingers through his hair.

As promised, Shifty tells her goodbye before the patrol.

“I know what you did,” Zenie admits. “Getting me taken off of the patrol last night.”

Shifty nods, never breaking eye contact. “I had to.” He says it with such conviction that she can’t be upset about it. She never was, to begin with. Not really. Just surprised, like Liebgott was.

“This whole war has just been people protecting me,” she realizes. Gene, Shifty, Bill, and Babe; guarding her secrets, her heart.

“That’s what life is, you know. And when you care about someone enough, protectin’ them just becomes second nature.”

For once, there is nothing to protect each other from today. Shifty returns a few moments later with a wide grin on his face that could re-light all of Haguenau to its former glory. He barely gets the news about the patrol being cancelled out before Zenie grabs him by the webbing, tugs him to her, and kisses him with such force that her teeth accidentally knock into his.

No patrol – and Winters said they’re coming off the line!

Maybe, for once, the rumors have some truth to them; maybe the end of the war is a very near thing after all.

[danidoesntdie]

One Year On Levothyroxine: Retrospective

Last year in October, I finally went to an endocrinologist and had my hypothyroidism officially diagnosed and was put on a small dose of levothyroxine. Two days later I cried because I could finally feel something other than empty and depressed. Now it's been almost one year since I started this life-changing medicine and I wanted to think back on all the ways it has impacted me in the long term.

During my Junior fall semester of college, I was barely able to move. I was not attending class, not doing my homework, and unable to concentrate. I was basically living with some of my friends in their dorm (which technically wasn't allowed) because I didn't think that I would be able to stay alive if I was on my own for so long (I did not tell them this). At this point, I had been diagnosed with MDD for 8 years. I was tired of good days meaning that I ate and bad days meaning that I'd stand on the side of the road.

Now I've been on medicine that works for a year and I feel like a completely different person. In fact, I feel like I never knew who I was before then. When I was younger, I assumed that I was going to die young and so had no ambitions. Now I can reasonably see myself living for another several years. This was so startling for me. I had all this time and I had no idea what I wanted to do with it. The past year has been a lot about self-discovery.

I started drawing comics last November as a way to cope with the several changes that were happening in my life: dropping out of college, moving into my first apartment alone, working two part-time jobs, and breaking up with my then-boyfriend. I know now that I love drawing comics, and that I don't want to stop anytime soon. I'm hoping that I can share my comics with more people to give them a sad chuckle when things are hard. I want to share what it is like to be depressed so that others can recognize it in themselves and in the ones close to them. This is the first aspiration that I have had for myself in a very long time.

I care more about my appearance. Granted, I'm still not the most hygienic. But I wear more than a T-shirt and khakis every day. I dress up for myself even when the only thing I'm doing that day is going to Walmart. I've learned that I love wearing bold and colorful eyeshadow.

I'm more likely to go out with friends. I'm more likely to make time for my friends. I'm more likely to care about my friends, what they like, their past, etc. That extends to my family as well. I have three different social circles which is way more than I've ever had in my entire life.

I don't shake as much at restaurants. Bright lights don't bother me as much. I eat when I'm hungry and have gained about fifteen pounds. I don't feel as lightheaded anymore. I poop every day (yeah, apparently you're supposed to? Didn't know that before). I have much more energy so I don't need to nap. I can count the number of days that I have spent in bed not moving on my fingers, whereas before I could go for weeks without leaving my room except for food.

I'm happier with myself and more forgiving. I'm moving forward with my life and am wondering still what I want out of it.

Thank you for being a part of it.

[sweetjuniperandboiledsatan]

Chapter 26 - Shady Belle

Full story here: Not a Doctor, Not an Angel Either

Word count: 34,472 Chapters: 26/41

Rating: M Pairing: John Marston x F!Reader; Javier Escuella x F!Reader

Warnings: Sexual content, mention of alcohol and cigarettes

You didn't really think that running away was the answer, did you? That it would bring back their son and magically fix everything? Of course not, but that didn't mean you weren't contemplating it. In fact, the idea struck you when Pinkerton agents unexpectedly made an appearance at Clemens Point, prompting Dutch to order everyone to start packing and moving fast.

This was it, your opportunity, you told yourself as your eyes fixated on your suitcase. It was just sitting there, unassuming and waiting for you to make your next move. You've played it in your head a few times - pick up your suitcase while no one's looking, bring your horse right behind the wagons and carriages, strap it up, and when you're ready, make a run for it. You knew your dad still had some money in the bank, and this new campsite was in close proximity to St. Denis. From there, you could board a ship that could take you away, maybe far east – away from all of this, away from Abigail, away from John.

John wasn't there; he was with Arthur and Dutch. The three of them had set out for St. Denis to look for Angelo Bronte, hoping to shed more light on Jack's whereabouts. The others who remained hustled about, unloading supplies from the wagons, pitching tents, and repairing the walls and floorboards of the derelict house that was to be the Van der Linde gang's new hideout.

You felt a sense of restlessness and unease in your chest when you finally decided to act. With mechanical grace, you picked up your suitcase, thinking it must have weighed a thousand times more than it actually did before approaching your horse. You moved carefully so as not to draw any attention to yourself and let anyone know what you intended to do. Thankfully, the wagons and carriages provided cover that helped keep you hidden from view. With practised ease, you mounted your horse and adjusted your suitcase, making sure it was securely fastened. Taking a deep breath, you urged your horse forward.

You looked back once more, and you saw your life and home for the past year growing smaller and smaller. You turned your head back on the road ahead, leaning forward and urging the animal to go faster. Maybe if you rode fast enough, you could outrun the guilt and shame that consumed you. Leaving them was the last thing you wanted, but you couldn't bring yourself to face Abigail and John again, not after everything that had happened when you broke the news to them.

You were still disoriented from the injury you sustained to your head, frantically searching for words to explain to them what had happened to their son. Abigail's face grew pale and twisted with horror, then rage. She started screaming and spewing curses at you and John. She had made herself explicitly clear that she never wanted you near her son, and John had betrayed her.

You could still hear her screams ringing in your ears as you recalled how she launched herself at you with her fists balled tightly and arms swinging wildly. You instinctively flinched and shut your eyes tight, bracing yourself for impact, only to feel the rush of air as she missed you by mere inches. When you opened your eyes, you saw John standing between the two of you, his hands holding a firm grip on her. You wondered if you would still be alive had John and the others not intervened and if Dutch hadn't been able to pacify her that day.

As you neared Caliga Hall in the eastern part of Scarlett Meadows, you could hear another horse gaining speed towards your direction. The hoofbeats sounded different but not entirely unfamiliar. It was unmistakably Boaz's. You turned your head and saw Javier riding swiftly behind you. He was a much better rider than you, and it didn't take him long to finally catch up to you. With skillful maneuvering, he was able to block your path effectively, causing you and your horse to swerve to the side.

"Where do you think you're going?" His eyes, filled with alarm and concern, flicked from your suitcase and then to you. Javier had noticed your absence among the commotion at Shady Belle earlier, and when he realised your horse was missing too, he immediately headed out in search of you.

"Out of the way, Javier, please!" Your voice quavered as you implored him to move.

"You can't just leave like this." He tightened his grip on the reins, keeping his horse steady. Your horse whinnied in protest as you attempted to guide it around him, but Boaz was too strong.

You shook your head. "You don't understand. I can't stay. I can't face Abigail… and John. That little boy, Javier, I just can't!"

"Think about what you're doing, [Y/N]." Javier's voice was firm but gentle, begging you to find some reason amidst all of this.

Gritting your teeth, you dug your heels into your horse's sides, but it refused to budge. Javier's horse edged closer, causing your horse to sidestep and your suitcase to jostle behind you.

"You think that's what John needs right now? He's out there, at his wit's end, looking for Jack."

"Have you even thought about what it'll do to him when he comes home and finds you gone?" He gestured with his arm in frustration.

"What happened to Jack, that wasn't your fault, [Y/N]." He added, his voice finally softening.

Warm tears started streaming down your sun-kissed face, and the weight of your decision suddenly felt unbearable. You realised how foolish and selfish you had been, and you were this close to leaving everything and everyone that mattered to you, including John.

You knew you had to go back. You took a deep breath and finally looked at Javier, who was patiently waiting for your response. You nodded, a silent acknowledgment of your defeat.

With his reassuring nod and a smile, Javier led his horse to ride alongside yours. The two of you made your way back to Shady Belle in comfortable silence. You thought how grateful you were for his company and, most importantly, for showing you the way back home.

*

As the afternoon faded into evening, the sounds of the swamp grew louder. The deep and guttural croaking of the bullfrogs echoed in the distance, and the incessant buzzing of mosquitoes and other insects hummed in the background. Every so often, the occasional splash of water could be heard from the swamp, creating an ominous and foreboding atmosphere that seemed to seep into everyone's mood.

Dutch's voice boomed, breaking the tension and unease in the air. "We're here!" he shouted, "And we've brought Jack back!" The camp erupted into a frenzy of cheers and relief, and the fear and apprehension that had gripped the gang dissipated.

No one was more relieved and overjoyed to see little Jack again than his mother. Abigail ran toward her baby boy, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. She thanked Dutch and Arthur for bringing her boy back, her gaze meeting John's before leading the little boy back into the fold, where they were greeted with singing and celebration. Javier led with his guitar, and the gang broke into a chorus, his beautiful voice carrying above the others.

As the celebration carried on into the night, you found yourself standing alongside Reverend Swanson and Kieran, taking in the scene of the party from a safe distance. Even Sadie, who had been distant and withdrawn since Horseshoe Overlook, appeared to be in better spirits.

"I don't want to ruin it," the Reverend answered ruefully when you asked him why he wasn't joining the festivities. You reminded him not to be too hard on himself, offering advice you thought you could certainly use as well.

Your eyes wandered over the group by the campfire, lingering for a moment on John as he sat with Abigail and Jack. A faint and familiar feeling tugged in your chest as you watched them by the campfire. You tore your gaze away in hopes of distracting yourself from it. You shifted your attention back to Reverend Swanson, who had started telling you the story about the ghost of a young woman that haunted the grounds of Shady Belle. The sunken hollows beneath his eyes only seemed to deepen as he spoke, casting an eerie shadow over his already haunted tale.

As Swanson's story drew to a close, Arthur made his way over. Noticing your reserved demeanour, he placed the comforting weight of his hand on your shoulder and offered you a drink. You accepted and felt the warmth of his touch still lingering on the cup, sensing that he had somehow read and understood everything that was going on in your mind. You looked up at Arthur and thanked him for the gesture, the liquid burning down your throat as you did. His eyes held a silent inquiry, and for a moment, you considered confiding in him, but words eluded you.

As the night progressed, the singing and drinking gradually died down, and the group that had gathered around the campfire earlier dispersed into smaller clusters. Javier's music continued, providing a soothing backdrop to the conversation between Arthur, Hosea, and Dutch, who were discussing what they’ve recently learned about Angelo Bronte.

You must've been on your third or fourth refill, all courtesy of Miss Jones, when John found you sitting by the fountain, lost in your own thoughts. Without a word, he sat beside you and raised his bottle in a silent toast. A few moments later, Jack joined you with a cheerful greeting, seemingly unmarred by the recent events.

You returned the little boy’s greeting with a warm smile, but your expression quickly turned serious as you noticed Abigail approaching you and John. Your heart raced, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, hoping to avoid another confrontation with her.

"I feel like I can breathe again," Abigail said, finally breaking the ice. She paused for a moment before continuing, "I'm sorry if I was...well, I was just really worried sick." Her words were sincere, and a sense of relief washed over you as you accepted her apology.

After bidding the two of you goodnight and taking Jack with her, Abigail left you and John alone once more. You savoured the last sips of your drink, basking in the peace and calm of the night. John remained quiet, his tiredness apparent in his eyes. You knew he needed a good night's sleep after all he had been through, and you decided it was best not to burden him with the knowledge of what you were up to that day.

With a soft sigh, he stood up and looked at you with such tenderness and longing, a silent invitation to call it a night. Without hesitation, you rose to your feet and took his rough, calloused hand in yours. Together, you made your way back to your quarters, leaving behind the warmth of the fire and the memories of turmoil and disquiet of the past few days.

***

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Killjoys Never Die 7/15 - FK-001

Chapter Summary: Studying the schedule Fun remembered, you come to a strange conclusion, but find your friends lied to you, when a new old face enters the stage. (eventual) Pairing: Fun Ghoul x fem!Reader Chapter Word Count: 6 153 Series Warnings:  mentions of drugs; poor mental health; suicidal tendencies; insecurities; throwing up;  jealousy; slavery (?); experiments on living humans; mentions of eating disorder; graphic descriptions of: violence, injuries, torture, death

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist

Recap: After Fun remembered an old schedule of the BLI patrols, everyone hoped to learn about the fate of your two, still missing friends, but you seem to be no step closer to getting them back.

When you woke up, the room was warm, but the bed besides you was cold and empty. Fun must have gotten up a while ago. Judging from the way the shadows drew into your room, you supposed it was early afternoon. You had not meant to sleep quite this long, but then again you all had stayed up until sunrise, discussing the new information Fun had remembered.

Rolling to your side, you stretched and pressed your nose into the pillow right where Fun would usually lie. The fabric smelled of him, and it made your heart beat faster. Something about your scents mixing on the pillow was so weirdly intimate, so gentle. Quickly you sat up; hoping the burn on your cheeks would draw nobody’s attention towards you once you stepped outside your room.

After slipping from your night shirt into a tighter fitted shirt that Kobra had given to you many years ago, and a pair of trousers, you sauntered to the main room of the Diner. Everything was quiet, neither Fun nor Jet seemed to be around. Unhurriedly you grabbed a can of PowerPup and a spoon, and walked over to the table, where still the documents from last night were spread out. Opening the can, and beginning to eat, you pulled the map with the certainly known routes closer.

Jet and Fun were right to worry about Twelve. If BLI moved it a little bit more to the south, they would be able to see the Diner. And Route Three got dangerously close to the petrol station that was for sure.

You just wondered how long it had been like that. Could not have been that long, because nobody had noticed so far. The other Killjoys could probably do with a warning, but then again, who should warn them? They did not trust you, by Destroya, they were scared shitless of you! And you had done your best to hide Fun’s and Jet’s identity from everyone. To the rest of the Zones they were just two other ‘joys, nothing special. Keeping their identities hidden, meant protecting them. What if BLI learnt that two of their all-time most wanted Killjoys were still alive, or rather: again? They would hunt them down, would probably send tanks and a hundred guns, just to take them out. So as long as Jet and Fun stayed unrecognized, they were safe. That was all that mattered.

You ran your fingers over the list for patrol, studying it closer. Fun had jotted down almost fifty lines. That made fifty patrols in four days. At some points he had left diagonal lines, making you assume it implied that there was information missing. So BLI sent over fifty different patrols every four days out into the Zones? Why so many different turns? Why not let one group do one route for a week and then change it up? Studying the numbers closer, you poked your spoon into the half-eaten PowerPup, and pushed the can aside.

That was strange. Jet had told you the DRACs needed charging every month for a week. On the list in front of you no Zombie was noted down for more than three days within the four days that were written down. Of course they could have been in the holes Fun had not remembered, but something seemed of anyway. It felt like the whole pacing of this list was too quick.

Again you looked down on the dates. Day 33, 34, 35, and 36. Why those dates? They obviously did not stick to the normal calendar, the one from before the Analogue Wars. But when you counted back, back to when Fun had attacked you, and then another 33 days back, what date was that? What was day 1?

With a company like BLI you would have expected them to direct their entire organisation, including dates, after the company, so something like the victory in the war, or the founding day of Better Living Industries.

Furrowing your brows you grabbed the can of PowerPup. It was the one that was issued for the company members, so the labels were only white, with the BLI logo printed on it in black, but the cans itself were the same ones as the ordinary Battery Citizen got. And since BLI worked to indoctrinate the population in every aspect of their lives…

Lifting up the can, you were not disappointed to find fine lines pressed into the bottom of the can. You had only read the writing once, some bullshit about how awesome BLI was, and how much they cared for the people. But there was also one date. The date of the founding of the company, Day 1. And in brackets behind it: the date in the old calendar system. Your heart beat faster as you looked at the date, took in the meaning of the little numbers and letters, but it sank again. The date did not fit. It would have been over half a year ago, not just one or two months-

You stopped. What if…

Grabbing the sharpie that was still lying around, you took a fresh sheet of paper, and began noting down the date of the founding of BLI, and then, in columns of four, the numbers from one to thirty-six. Nine groups. Nine months ago had been the anniversary of the funding of BLI. If the numbers on Fun’s list were not days but weeks, it worked. It also matched with 33 being the week in which someone with the marker FK-003, a First-class Killjoy, had taken the route Eight, which lead close to the hide-out in which Fun had attacked you. No other FK-Zombie had been assigned this route in week 33 or any of the following.

But Fun and Jet had surely known that these numbers were weeks, not days. Why had they lied to you? Especially because this way it meant the schedule was still active. It had been less than four weeks since Fun had found you, and for another few days you might even be able to go on thoroughly planned patrols, learning more new, valuable information! So why lie?

Your fingers, still running over the paper, stopped at a point high up on the first list, where the pen had rubbed off the paper a little bit, making it rough. Looking at it, Fun seemed to have corrected something, having scribbled a one over something that had started out as a rounder shape, maybe originally a two, an eight, or a zero.

For a moment you looked at it, before another thought pushed into your mind. FK-004 had been Jet, FK-003 had been Fun, probably. Respectively they had been the fourth and the third of the Fabulous Killjoys to be killed by BLI, and maybe FK did not stand for First-class Killjoy, but instead for Fabulous Killjoy?

What if – and this was a reach – but what if Fun had actually not made a mistake when he had originally wanted to note down FK-001, instead of FK-011. So what if he had hid FK-001 behind FK-011 intentionally? What if FK-011 aka FK-001 had been the first of the Fabulous Killjoys BLI had killed? What if FK-001 was Party Poison?

But if that were true, why hide it from you? You remembered the glances your friends had exchanged in the night, the way you had thought they were holding something back. Was this what they had been holding back?

Quickly your eyes scanned over the two lists in front of you. FK-001 had been on patrol in week 33, 34, and then again in 36. If you were right, which, considering how many guesses you had included, was unlikely, but if you were right, today was one of the last days of week 36, and that meant Party was on patrol, as a Zombie-DRAC, on route Three, close to the petrol station. Which made it dangerous for the Killjoys there, and dangerous for him since most Killjoys made no difference between a normal DRAC and a Zombie.

So if, if, you were right, then Party was in danger.

“Jet!”

Jumping up from where you had sat at the table, you ran towards his room.

“Jet!”

You knocked against his door, but there was no reply.

“Jet, this is about Party! Fun!”

With Fun’s door you did not bother knocking, you just pushed it open, but the room was empty.

“Jet! Fun!”

Again you knocked on Jet’s door, but when there was still no reply you opened it, something you usually would not have done without his permission. This was an emergency though, so you decided to feel bad about it later. But Jet’s room was empty too, and so was the bathroom. Where were they?

Running out of the Diner, you called for them over and over again, making your way to the shed in which you kept the bikes. They had to be in there, right? They’d never leave you alone without telling you first, without letting you know where they had gone.

When you pushed open the wooden door to the shack, you found there were only half as many bikes in there as were supposed to be. They had left you, and taken two of the bikes with them.

For a moment you stared at the lines in the sand where they had pushed out the bikes. They had snuck away, and left you. So they had probably lied to you, intentionally.

Why?

Why would they lie to you? You were a member of the team, fairly capable to stand up for yourself. You had survived the Zones, countless clashes with BLI, nasty wounds, a broken heart (not that knew), and freezing cold nights, all by yourself. Why did they think they could not ask you for help? Why had they headed out on their own?

Tears of hurt and disappointment stung in your eyes. You knew Fun had probably been the one who had opposed taking you along. He was protective, you knew that. You had noticed it most of all yesterday, after you had gotten hurt, but even the weeks before that, it had been obvious, with the way he had always checked in on you, or had insisted doing certain things he considered too dangerous for you to do. It had been sweet then, but this went too far. If they really were looking for Party you deserved to be there. Party had been your friend too.

Fuming with anger you stormed back into the Diner and behind the counter where you kept all the keys for the bikes. Pulling open the drawer, you were met with another nasty surprise. Not just the keys to the bikes Fun and Jet had taken were missing, but all the other bike keys too, and those bikes were the only vehicles you had. Instead of the key you found a note, a small piece of paper, with the word ‘sorry’ scribbled in Fun’s handwriting on it.

That was too much. Tears of anger and disappointment, and maybe even fear spilled over, and you grabbed the note, crumpling it up, and threw it across the room, before you screamed.

By Destroya, how could they leave you behind like that? Didn’t they know how terrifying the idea was to be alone, just like you had been in the past years? You had gotten used to their company, craved it, just the knowledge that someone was in the next room over, or the quiet rustling when you were sitting in silence next to one another. But now the Diner was empty, dead, just as dead as it had been for all the years prior to Jet and Fun appearing again.

You hated them.

In this moment, as you shuffled over to a booth to drop down in, you were almost certain you hated them. For not trusting you enough to take you along, for leaving you all by yourself, for lying about the list Fun had remembered.

Silence engulfed you as you were lying on the bench of a booth, looking up at the dirty ceiling above you. The silence of the Zones was different from the one you knew from your childhood. Back then, silence had been relative. There had always been the hum of a fridge or a computer, the chirping of a bird, the laughter of children playing in the distance, the rustling of wind in trees. But in the Zones there were no fridges or computers or birds or children or trees. Everything was dead. And the silence felt just as dead, tasted like the rotting meat of the Killjoys BLI left behind in body bags to rot in the desert. Maybe Fun and Jet were already in one of these body bags when the masks had not worked on them. Maybe BLI had already killed them.

You watched as the sun painted patterns of shadow and light against the ceiling. What were you waiting for? If Fun and Jet were dead, what were you waiting for? There was nothing to do anymore. You had finished your experiments with the masks, knew all there was to know about them. There was nobody you had to protect, nobody who cared where you were, or if you were alright.

You could just lie here, until you became too hungry. Then you could eat, and then sleep, and then repeat it. Until you ran out of food. Until the hunger would drive you out into the desert. Without a bike you would take almost a whole day to get to the next vending machine to get food. Maybe you wouldn't pack anything to protect you against the sun’s radiation. Then you’d go mad. That was probably for the best. Spend the rest of your – from then on limited – days as a mad Killjoy in the desert, high on radiation, until a scared Killjoy would kill you. Or BLI. Or the sun. Still better than being aware of all you had lost, all you had lost twice.

The sound of a motor was what eventually broke you out of your thoughts. Was it a car? A bike? Had other Killjoys found the Diner? Was BLI finally coming for you?

You waited, still lying on the bench, listened as the motor approached. It sounded familiar. No. They did. Two. Two bikes. No other Killjoys, not BLI. But Fun and Jet. Most likely.

Your suspicion got confirmed when the bikes stopped before the Diner, and distorted voices began chatting. They were laughing, cheering almost, and you could imagine Jet and Fun pushing against each other’s shoulders as they were making joke after joke. You could almost see the way Fun’s face scrunched up in laughter, how he’d pat Jet’s chest for making a good joke, how he’d lift the other hand up as if to cover his smile, but not quite.

That’s when you sat up, rigid like a doll, and marched to the front door, grabbing the half-eaten can of PowerPup on your way. Tearing open the door, you marched into the orange light of the setting sun, sand and dust twirling in the air.

The bikes stood a few feet from the Diner, three men just having gotten off of them. One was Fun, one Jet. The other one had mouse brown hair, as long as Fun’s, and a face with soft features. His familiarity registered only for a moment before your attention got pulled to Fun again. He was grinning brightly.

“There she is,” he cheered opening his arms as if to welcome you. “Look at who we found!”

“You ass!”

Ignoring Fun’s enthusiasm, ignoring Jet’s surprised look, ignoring the third man, dressed all in BLI- white, you threw the can of PowerPup at Fun, who barely managed to step aside. Several feet behind him the disgusting food clattered to the floor, PowerPup flying into the dust. Nobody took notice.

“You lied to me, and then you left me, and you turn up here like- You left me!” Your voice was a lot higher than you wanted it to be. But at least it was angry. Angry-red, fuming. Not tears-blue and choking. “You left me all alone in the fucking Diner, no explanation, only a note. A fucking ‘sorry’-note! I thought you had died!”

You would have felt bad for ruining the fun the three of them had obviously had before you had stormed outside, but you were too angry.

“Listen-”

“No, you listen! Did you even think for a moment that it might be dangerous? That you’d be better off with three Killjoys? That it was a fucking stupid idea to take all the bike keys? If something would have happened to you, I would’ve been without transportation-”

“We thought you’d follow us if we left the keys,” Jet tried explaining, but you shook your head at him.

“I knew he-” you pointed at Fun without looking at him, “was full of shit, and ready to pull fucking stunts like that, but I expected more of you!”

Jet averted his dark eyes, like a little kid that had gotten a scolding.

“The next time you leave me behind like that, with the walls closing in, and the ghosts of three fucking years on my own screaming in my head, at least leave me the keys to a bike so I can piss off and leave you by your sorry selves, because you obviously don’t give a single sorry fuck about me-”

“Stop it!”

You had been so enraged, that you had not even notice how Fun had approached you. Now he grabbed your wrists as you were wildly gesticulating around.

“I know we should’ve told you ab-”

“Let me go!”

Trying not to listen to him you struggled against his grip. He was a lot stronger than he looked.

“It wasn’t exactly clever of us to leave you alone-”

“I said: let me go!”

“-but we couldn't risk getting you in danger-”

Fun’s eyes were soft, guilt swimming in them, and you could tell how sorry he was. But he had left you. He had been the one who had abandoned you. He did not have the right to expect you would listen to his explanation. The explanation should have come beforehand. You knew he liked the saying that it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission, but nobody ever talked about what happened when the forgiveness was not given.

“You don’t make the rules!”

Having enough of Fun restricting your movements you twisted in his grip, a movement you had once, all these years ago, learnt from Kobra. Fun yelped as with your movement you twisted his hands enough to hurt him, making him let go immediately.

For a moment you thought about grabbing the keys for the motorbike out of Jet’s hand, and racing away, but you could not run away before you had talked to that third man. Not now, though. You were too mad at the other two to even phrase a proper sentence.

So instead you turned on your heels, and marched into the Diner, down the hall, and into your room, not giving the new man a second glance, nor Jet, who looked absolutely devastated, nor Fun, who was rubbing his wrists.

It did not take Fun long to follow you inside. You could hear him walk up to your door, as you were lying face down on your bed, your nose buried in the part of the pillow that did not smell like him.

His knock was distinct, one you could recognise anywhere in the world.

“Can I come in,” he asked gently.

By the Phoenix Witch, where did he take that patience from?

“Fuck off,” you shouted back. For a moment there was silence.

“Please? I just-”

“No, fuck off, I said! You lied to me, and you left me behind without explanation! I thought we trusted each other and-”

“I wanted to protect you!”

“I don’t give a fuck about your protection!” That was a lie, but you could feel the blow it sent to Fun’s heart behind the door, and in a twisted sense it felt good. “If we can’t trust each other, and you were the one that broke that trust, then I shit on your protection or whatever the fuck you came up as an excuse with!”

On the other side of the door was rustling, quiet voices.

“Let me,” someone whispered.

Again a knock. Not Fun’s. Not Jet’s. You just lay in your bed, letting the sound drift through the room, letting it pull old memories to the surface. Of bonfires in the desert, of patching up each other’s wounds, and consequentially each other’s blood as dark rims under your fingernails, of stealing each other’s jackets, dyeing each other’s hair.

“For fuck’s sake,” you whispered into your pillow, your heart racing at the knocking pattern you had not heard in almost four years. Lifting your head, you spoke just loud enough so it was barely audible from behind the door: “But just you.”

Burying your face back in the pillow, you heard the door open, and a single person enter, before the door closed again. Steps neared your bed, and then the mattress dipped besides you.

When you moved to sit up, you did not even look at the other person’s face. You just turned around, threw your arms around his neck and buried your face against his shoulder, before sobs began wrecking your body. Arms, softer than you remembered them, came up to wrap around you, and pulled you in.

“I missed you,” you cried, your voice barely audible against the white fabric of the BLI issued clothes. “I’m so sorry. I let you down. I let you all down. Doctor D didn’t even trust me with the Girl. I failed you. I failed all of you.”

“You didn’t fail us.”

The voice rumbled in the other person’s chest, but it was soft, gentle. You cried even harder at the sound, one you thought you’d never hear again. You had accepted you would never hear your best friend’s voice again, but here he was, holding you, brown hair gently swiping against your head as he adjusted himself on the bed.

“You didn’t fail us,” Party repeated. “Without you, none of us would be here right now, alright?”

“But-”

“No buts. We owe you everything.”

He tightened his hold on you, pulling you tighter against him. He was still cold, just like Fun and Jet had been, as all those, who had just come out from underneath a mask, were. But warmth already started pulsing through him again, meaning he had gotten rid of the mask at least two or three hours ago.

For a long while you sat like that, you cried, and he held you, and sometimes you thought he cried too. A few times he tried to bring up Fun and Jet, wanting to explain why they had gone without you, but you shut him up each time. Right now you did not want to think about Jet, who you had thought would always do the right thing, or Fun, who obviously didn’t trust you, who you already felt so broken hearted over because you knew these nights sharing a bed meant more to you than to him. You just wanted to be held by your best friend, and Party accepted that, snuggled into your touch when you ran your fingers through his smooth locks, and buried your face deeper against his shoulder.

It was a knock on the door, Fun’s knock, that eventually prompted you to pull away from the hug. Tears had dried on your cheeks, and the room was dark. For the first time you looked up at Party. Your first impression, that his face was rounder, his body softer than the last time you had seen him, seemed to be true. You knew he had barely eaten in the months leading up to them going to Battery City, but underneath the mask he seemed to have put on a healthy weight. Maybe it had even been the healing of the mask itself.

“Come in,” you called, knowing Fun was still waiting outside your door.

Now, that you had calmed down, you ached for his touch, his reassurance. Of course, Party had just spent about an hour just hugging you, but Party was not Fun. With Fun it was different, always.

Fun pushed the door open, halting in the door frame. You expected him to smile, to be gentle like he had been after you had insulted and screamed at him. But instead his eyes wandered over the scene before him, Party and you sitting on your bed, you almost in the other man’s lap from where you had hugged, and Fun’s jaw tensed.

“If you want dinner...” he trailed off, his eyes cold and distant.

“Oh, great, I’m starving,” Party grinned and untangled himself from you, jumping up.

“I’m fine,” you answered, and watched as Party nodded and slipped past Fun into the corridor.

For a moment Fun and you just looked at each other. He was glaring daggers at you, and while you knew that your comment earlier had probably hurt him, you had hoped he would try explaining himself again. This time you wanted to listen, this time you wanted him to know that you understood, even if you did not approve of how he had decided to act.

But he did not speak up.

“Fun-”

“I don’t care,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes before looking at you again.

The tension was so thick, you thought you could cut it with a knife.

A few seconds long you were staring at each other, like two dogs, which were deciding whether to fight or to play. You were about to say something, make a second attempt at coaxing him out of his shell, when he blew air through his nose, rolled his eyes again, and closed the door between you.

That night Fun did not sneak into your room. Nor the next. Or the one after that.

It was cold without him, cold and lonely, and his smell on the pillow slowly got covered up by your own. When a week had passed, and he still had not come to see you, the pillow now only smelling like yourself, you finally put it in the wash.

It was not only during the nights in which he kept his distance to you though. It was over the days as well, almost like it had been before. No, it was worse. Before, he had at least sometimes talked to you, or looked at you during conversations, but now he seemed to pretend you did not exist. Only when the situation really required him to acknowledge you, like when someone asked him to hand you something, did he interact with you. But even then his eyes would not meet yours.

Jet and Party of course picked up on the strange behaviour, and also your pain every time Fun ignored you. Both tried talking to you about it, asked what was wrong, but your guesses were as good as theirs so you told them to ask Fun, who only refused to talk about you.

Over the next two weeks you began developing a new routine. Before the others had gone to Battery City, Party had been the crew’s unofficial leader. All decisions were voted upon by the group, but in the end you would have followed Party’s lead, no matter the votes. Now he was the one with the least knowledge of the current state of the Zones, so he was always looking to you for guidance, all questions he had being directed at you first, before he asked the others.

At some point Jet and Fun seemed to have told him about everything that had happened since they had gone to Battery City to save the Girl. He knew about the deaths of the others, and tried to hide his pain over losing his little brother, Kobra, but you knew him well enough to see through his facade. He also knew about the masks, about your work, about how Jet and Fun had found you by accident. And he remembered the schedule. What had taken Fun over three weeks to remember, Party remembered after just a few nights. He was able to add more of the DRACs routes, and fill in some gaps in your reconstructions.

But in the end it was not Party who woke you all up one night, with panicked screams, and a memory that made your heart feel like it had been ripped to shreds.

It was Jet, sweat bathed and pale, his curls sticking to his forehead, his breathing fanatic as you all stormed to his room. He sat in his bed, shaking as you rubbed his back, when he told you about a memory from almost a year ago. A memory about Kobra. In a white, tiled room with a drain in the middle of the floor. Tied to a chair. No mask. Fully conscious. Fully Kobra. Blood. Scalpels. Screams. Whimpers of pain. Silence.

Neither of you knew what to say, the only sound in the room Jet’s heavy breathing as he tried to calm down. He had been there, had maybe even helped torture Kobra. You knew that no matter how many times you would tell him that it had not been him, but BLI, he still would blame himself, just like Fun had blamed himself for almost strangling you to death.

“I thought those had just been nightmares.”

It was Fun’s voice, shaky and thin, that eventually broke the silence. He had never talked about his nightmares to you before, not in all the weeks you had shared a bed, but now he told you that he had the same, reoccurring dream, only that maybe it was not a nightmare after all but a memory. He struggled to place it to a time, but he was sure it had been recent, no much longer ago than two months. He insisted on that. Party was pale as he listened to his friend’s stories, before he confessed that while he had no vivid memory of such a scene, he did remember flashes of Kobra getting tortured. Just like Fun he had thought it were nightmares, trauma bleeding into the now.

Neither of you went back to your room that night. Fun fell asleep with his head against Jet’s wardrobe, Party with his head leant on Fun’s shoulder, while you had curled into a corner of Jet’s bed. The only one who did not go back to sleep was Jet, still blaming himself for what had happened to Kobra, and scared something similar would happen to his friends, if he dared closing his eyes. So he kept wake.

In the morning the situation had lost some of its horror but gained in cruelty. All of the men’s memories matched each other; all of them agreeing that at some point Kobra had been under a Zombie Mask until his injuries had healed, and then later been taken out from underneath that mask, and tortured while he was fully conscious.

And that, for the first time since Party had joined the group, gave you a clear goal: save Kobra. But as much as you knew what you needed to do, as little did you know how to do it. Kobra was in the heart of BLI, the headquarters in the centre of Battery City. The last time Killjoys, namely four of five of the Fabulous Killjoys, had broken into the headquarter, they had been killed. Which was one point you all agreed on, should be avoided if possible.

As soon as you had woken up that morning, you all had begun making plans, and soon it turned out getting in would not be the problem, just as it had not been last time. Party told you how they seemed to have set off an alarm, which was not very surprising considering they had driven a car through some barrier right into the city.

So the obvious choice was to sneak in. You just had to find a way past the high walls that surrounded Battery City. You had countless old DRAC uniforms and dismantled DRAC Masks, and if you rode your bikes up to the wall, you could probably sneak in through the sewer system, and from there into the headquarters, where you would pass as DRACs. But then you still needed to find Kobra, and make it back out unnoticed unless you wanted things to end like last time.

By noon you were convinced it was an impossible mission. Party kept staring at the notes you all had taken together, and Jet had fallen asleep, his chin resting on his chest as he took deep breaths.

Fun still refused to talk to you, and you could not help but notice that he seemed to avoid Party too, had been ever since he had seen Party in your room that first evening.

It bugged you, even more so that any attempt at talking to him got shot down immediately. Even this morning, when you had tried bouncing ideas off of him, as you had done in the weeks before Party had joined the group, he had refused to communicate with you.

It drove you up the walls, quite honestly, and unable to stand the atmosphere in the Diner anymore, you stepped outside into the midday sun. You understood that it had to be awful for Party to know his baby brother was out there, in the hands of BLI, being tortured, suffering. But right now there was nothing you could do. Party had asked if there were any crews who would be crazy enough to help you, but Jet had explained that there were none.

Nobody dared coming near you. The only ones you knew who would have helped had lost contact to you years ago, after they had gone east. They had helped you stay afloat during the first months after your friends had died. You knew they had been friends with Party and Kobra. Especially their leader seemed to have been close to Kobra, and had made it his personal mission to help you trade, until you had enough connections to trade by yourself, for food, meds, clothes. And then they had gone to the east, to where once had been Chicago. You had not heard of them since, so you had not brought them up.

The next days, weeks almost, were pure hell. More so than the Zones were already anyway.

Party locked himself in his room most of the days, making up crazy plans on how to save Kobra. Which meant there was hardly any time in which the tensions between him and Fun could continue rising, but every time he left his room he babbled about increasingly delusional plans. Even though calling them delusional was still putting it mildly.

You mostly just sat there and let him talk, not encouraging him, but not trying to shut him up either. That was what you had Jet for. He was probably the most helpful at the moment, helping you with repairs that needed to be made, or going on supply runs with you, whereas Fun only hung out in the garage, screwing around with the bikes.

Fun still did not talk to you, and began acting strange towards Party, always on edge, always a second away from blowing up, and more than once he lashed out at the other two men. Sometimes it was justified, you supposed, Fun lashing out at them, but sometimes it was just too much, and while you were still disappointed and hurt that he pretended like you had not spent weeks taking care of him after nightmares, and talking until late at night about (almost) all your secrets, you were also glad to not get into the line of his verbal fire. At this point you would probably just break down in tears.

Party was no big help in the Fun-matter either, obviously. He grew increasingly irritated at everyone, especially when nobody enthusiastically latched onto his absolutely crazy plans. At this point you were almost certain Party was going completely mad, and you’d have to lock him away at one point or another, just so he wouldn’t endanger himself. Jet tried, tried, to stay calm between the former leader who was so dead set on finding his brother that he forgot to eat, the quiet, but aggressive friend who threatened to blow up if you just glanced at him the wrong way, and you, who sat in the middle just like Jet, and still seemed to be the centre of Fun’s anger issues, without the faintest clue as to what had caused any of it.

Next Chapter - Venom

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[finalshaper]

Can’t sleep so I’m thinking abt Felvan and Felvos again. They’re a pair of twins who end up falling in with the thieves guild much to the chagrin of Revyn.

Felvan is strange in the regard that he was born with abnormally bright golden eyes that shone iridescent blue. His grandfather, the Nerevarine Llethri Releth, panicked upon first seeing his eyes and their unnatural colors for reasons he refuses to specify. He told the boy’s parents to ensure that his eyes are never visible by anyone under any circumstance, especially by other Dunmer. When pressed he refused to elaborate. It’s believed that he communed with Azura directly and in person for guidance on what to do with the boy’s eyes.

Felvan would often conceal his face under a broad brimmed hat and would wrap his eyes in thin linen — enough for him to see through while still concealing them. This has led to Felvan pretending that he is blind, an act helped by his twin, because that would be easier to explain than mentioning that their grandfather did not want anyone seeing his eyes for some unknown mysterious reason. They’ve also used this to trick people, alongside their general Voros Twins-style stupidity act. How could a blind boy that is also dumb as bricks and his equally as dim counterpart be capable of these genius acts and ploys? Was it sheer chance, coincidence or where these boys smarter than they let on?

They fell into the Thieves’ Guild entirely by accident— they were left unattended in Riften and opted to cause some trouble, which ended in them being offered by Brynjolf to carry out a task for him, promising shiny coin on top of causing some good ol’ unrest, whatever seemed to entice the two more. Whatever happened ended in them thundering through the ratway towards the Flagon laughing and tussling and in general causing a massive ruckus — almost knocking the door off its hinges, startling just about every patron inside. Their chaos was only stopped by Maul booming at them viciously, complete with drawing his weapon — clearly having no qualms with teaching these two young teenagers a lesson or two.

This was only stopped with Samael and Revyn (tailed closely by Teldryn) making their entrance, Revyn visibly tense and trying to conceal his face as much as he could. He had a history with some of these people, after all, and the last time he was ever there alone was the day he left with a promise that if he ever showed his face there again it would be on sight and he would not make it out alive. Teldryn was the one who got Maul to back off only because he got himself between the twins and the mercenary, and used the fact he had a few inches of height on him to his advantage that he basically sized him up in a way that sent a clear message. He wouldn’t win, and teldryn felt that maul was more bark than he was bite.

Samael would round up the now silent and visibly ashamed twins telling them that they have to be more careful with these things, these people. That he’s at least happy they were paid clearly. That Revyn almost had a heart attack over them, knowing where they were and what they were doing. Revyn for one was skulking by the door of the Flagon and tried to make sure he was unnoticed.

Revyn for one was a bit less gentle with the boys, feverishly warning them about just what the Guild is and if they ask him they’re much safer with the Brotherhood than they are here. They’d be eaten alive here. And he did not hesitate to remind them that he was speaking from experience and it’s precisely why he hates riften so much.

I need to develop the twins more but the gist of it is they’re big dumbasses who are also my thieves guild guys and are inseparable to the point where they might as well be attached at the hip. They’re also heteropaternal twins, so they have two different biological fathers (aside from Revyn).

[a-student-out-of-time]

least delusional mod moment

okay but is your arei isn't actually dead theory implying that arei is the culprit??

or like. explain please

//No, no, I'm not implying that. We've that happen a few times, with the blackened convincing the cast the victim is actually still alive, like what happened twice in SDRA2, but what I'm suggesting is completely different

//Think about how J and Arei's arcs have played out during this motive. J had her entire identity revealed, much to her chagrin, and Arturo has been hounding her ever since. He doesn't respect her or her word, he's basically simping for her mom and J by extension only because of her old name.

//It gets to the point that, in order to get even a little bit of peace from this nonsense, she drags Teruko into the changing rooms and nearly gets knifed for her troubles. All just because she didn't want to deal with Arturo for a little bit, but nobody's helped her out

//Arei, meanwhile, has gone through a whole-ass character arc in only a few episodes. She started off as the bully girl who claimed she had nothing to hide, then had a massive breakdown over how much she wished kind people existed but doesn't believe they can in a cruel world. And then, thanks to David's influence, she decided she was gonna try and be a kinder person

//And after those last two moments, we haven't really seen much of them. We got one brief glimpse of Arei the day before the BDA, and we saw J briefly speaking just before then.

//Like, ordinarily this would seem straightforward, but it was this bit from Teruko's discussion with Veronika, where they talk about Teruko's apparent prosopagnosia, that really caught my attention:

//That entire discussion wasn't there just for the sake of it. This is something they deliberately wanted to draw attention to, and just before the motive reveal. Especially since Teruko doesn't answer.

//Not only does Teruko having prosopagnosia potentially complicate matters with her already trying to avoid interacting with people, but I feel this particular question is foreshadowing the big reveal

//And why do I think it's going to be like this? Because this chapter has essentially been one huge expansion on Arei and J's FTE

//In their FTE, the two of them discussed a bit about their home lives, with J ranting about how much she despises her mom and how Arei wishes she got to be the center of her own mother's attention. I was already curious about both those sentiments, and this chapter went on to elaborate on them wonderfully.

//Moreover, Arei, in her own chaos gremlin kind of way, genuinely cares about J and wants to hang out with her, even feeling that J likes her back because she didn't just walk away.

//Put all this together and this is why I feel that the two of them pulled a switch: Arei offered J a chance to finally be free of Arturo's simpage, and that's why we didn't see or her much from her afterward, other than that brief appearance in episode 7 before her apparent death.

//And I must ask, if Arei's goal was to be nicer to everyone after her scene with David, why wouldn't she be participating in the discussion about Ace and Nico? Sure, maybe she doesn't feel like she's up to it just yet

//...Or maybe that was actually J disguised as Arei, trying to keep a low profile. And thus the J we saw at the end of Episode 7 was actually Arei. No matter who it is under that hood, they were the first to go look for her.

//While I like to think the two of them do have a weird sort of friendship, and Arei certainly seems to like her, part of me doesn't really believe J would be the first to go look for her or be as concerned as she is. Not unless they had a major off-screen friendship moment, or just what I've suggested here

//And once again, the fact that the BDA cut off right when they found the body leads me to believe things aren't as straightforward as they seem.

//Like I've said, I could be wrong, but the crumbs in this episode feel like this is what they're leading toward. Not necessarily a happy conclusion, but one I'm very interested in seeing now