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nova-is-a-writer-now · 19 hours

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Highway Heat

Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and the trucker you flag down offers more than just roadside assistance.

A/N: Lord oh lord… I tried to be good i swear, i really tried to behave. The thing is my sweet beta reader @hautecouture02 requested a little roadside encounter one shot with Joel, specifically asking for FLUFF, and i swear on everything holy I tried my best to keep it PG… but sometimes things don’t go as I planned. So here, take this absolute filth of a one shot that’s little more than PWOP. ENJOY!!!!

Warnings: As previously stated, this is pretty much PWOP, Trucker!Joel i know nothing about trucks lol, maybe some dub!con at first but the internal dialogue shows hella consent, groping, fingering, a bit of praise and a bit of degradation, pet names like so many of them im not gonna list them all almost too many pet names if you believe in such a thing, grinding, oral male receiving, deep throating

Masterlist

You’re a good person—hell, a great person even. You give your spare change to homeless people, you donate to the puppy shelter every once in a while, you hold your friend’s hair back when they’re throwing up in the back of the club. You’re definitely not the type of person who deserves to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, sweating buckets despite wearing nothing but a spaghetti strap tank and the tiniest pair of shorts you own. This feels like some kind of cosmic punishment.

It is, undoubtedly, the worst possible time for your car to stop working. You’d been putting off the usual checkups on your car for months, knowing full well it was overdue for an oil change, a tire rotation—or whatever men who know their way around a toolbox always say. Your ex used to handle all of that for you, always acting like it was his job to make sure your car ran smoothly. He was that kind of guy who would go out of his way to make your life easier—didn’t mean he was above cheating though.

So now, you’re stuck in your geriatric Honda Civic, the AC busted and the engine refusing to start.

After a few minutes of trying to will it back to life, it’s clear you’re stranded.

You step out of the car, and the heat hits you like a goddamn slap to the face. The road’s deserted, no signs of life for miles, and of course, your phone has no signal. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. You glance down the road, hoping for a miracle, when you spot the rough outline of a truck—a big one, maybe a sixteen-wheeler—coming up in the distance.

Relief washes over you for about two seconds before your brain kicks in, running through every horror movie scenario. But it’s not like you’ve got a buffet of options, so you throw up your hand, waving the truck down as it rolls closer.

It’s a beat-up old thing, paint chipped and covered in dust, but it comes to a slow stop right behind your car. The door creaks open, and out steps a man.

He’s tall, broad, with a face lined with age and tan from long days under the sun. The net cap he wears lets a few of his longer dark curls peek out, the front pieces overpowered by graying hair. He sports a faded plaid shirt and jeans, a pair of well-worn boots kicking up dust as he steps toward you. His dark, intense eyes size you up like you’re part of the landscape he’s used to navigating.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” His voice is deep and gravelly, but the drawl is the star of the show, thick and sweet like honey.

You clear your throat, trying to keep your frustration in check. “Car broke down. Won’t start. No service either.”

He nods slowly, like this is exactly the kind of situation he expects to find out here. “Well, good thing I’m passin’ through.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes a little at that, but desperation makes you bite your tongue. “Think you could take a look?”

He stares at you for a moment, long enough that you wonder if he’s going to offer any help at all. But then he lets out a low sigh, scratches the back of his neck, and walks over to your car, popping the hood like it’s second nature.

For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of him tinkering under the hood, the occasional grunt or muttered curse as he checks things out. You stand there awkwardly, feeling the heat bearing down on you, watching as beads of sweat gather at the back of his neck.

Finally, he steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Shit’s runnin’ on fumes. When’s the last time you had it serviced?””

You shift, feeling stupid. “A while. My ex used to handle it, and, uh… I’ve been busy.”

He gives you a look, something between amusement and pity, before shaking his head. He leans against the car, arms crossed. “I can tow you to a shop in the next town, but it gon’ be a ride.”

You blink up at him, surprised at his offer. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” he says, with a shrug, “I’m headin’ that way anyway.”

He moves back to his truck, grabbing a few chains and a tow hitch from the back. Within minutes, he’s hooking up your beat-up Honda Civic to the rear of his truck, working with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before.

“You sure this is safe?” you ask, watching him as he tightens the last chain.

“As safe as it’s gonna get,” he replies with a shrug, brushing the dust from his hands. “Ain’t no mechanic shop out here, so this’ll do ‘til we get to the next town.”

You hesitate, then eye him. “You’re not gonna, like, chop me up and throw me in a ditch, are you?”

He chuckles at that, a nice gravely sound. “If I was, don’t think I’d tell ya, sugar. But no, I ain’t in the business of chopping people up.”

You look at him for a bit longer before sighing. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

He turns, heading back to his truck, his broad back facing you and making it a hell of a lot harder to concentrate

“Name’s Joel, by the way,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say, stepping up into the truck’s cab, the cool air from his AC hitting you like a blessing. Maybe your luck hasn’t run out just yet.

You sink back into the seat as he climbs up on his side of the cab, letting the icy air wash over you. There’s something else prickling at your senses though—something that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s him.

Joel’s glances are obvious, a little too long, lingering like he’s sizing you up. Normally, it’d make you roll your eyes, maybe even tell him off. Old guy like him eyeing you up is nothing you’re unfamiliar with. But today? With the way your body feels sticky and tired, and the way the breakup has left you all out of sorts… you’re almost enjoying it.

You’ve been craving attention and the shitty one night stands with guys from dating apps have done nothing to satiate that need. It’s been months since anyone has touched you and that rational part of your brain that would be yelling at you to be aware of the sleazy old trucker who just picked you off of the side of the road is sounding real quiet right now.

“So…” His voice pulls you from your thoughts as he shifts in his seat, resting one hand lazily on the wheel. “Where you headed?”

You hesitate, eyes on the road ahead. “Just… trying to get home.”

He hums, slow and deliberate. “Home, huh? Got anyone waitin’ on you there? Boyfriend?”

The word slices through you, sharper than you expected. You tighten your jaw, glancing out the window. “No. Not anymore.”

Joel makes a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “Well, ain’t that a shame. Pretty thing like you, all alone.”

You should hate the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker toward you like he’s just waiting for an opening. But instead, there’s a strange warmth pooling in your stomach, your pulse picking up in a way you’re not proud of. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs like it’ll somehow tamp down the growing tension in your body. He doesn’t miss it, his smirk growing a little wider.

“That line work on most girls?” you quip, trying to keep things light.

Joel chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Depends on the girl. But you look a little… flustered.”

Your cheeks heat up, and it’s not just the sun this time. “I’m not flustered.”

“Sure about that, darlin’?”

You glare at the open road, biting your lip as you try to ignore the way his words are messing with your head—and your body. It’s been way too long since anyone’s looked at you like this. Really looked at you.

The silence stretches out as the truck rumbles along the deserted road. You try to focus on anything but the tension in the air and find it’s impossible. His presence feels inescapable, it fills the cab wrapping around you, pressing down on every nerve.

“You never told me,” Joel says after a while, breaking the quiet. “Where’s home?”

“Texas,” you say quietly, your voice a little steadier now. “But I’m not in any rush to get back.”

“Family trouble?” he asks, his eyes flicking toward you again.

“Something like that,” you mutter. “It’s complicated.”

He hums in response. “Don’t I know it.”

You shift in your seat, crossing your legs, catching Joel watching you out of the corner of his eye. His gaze lingers a little too long on your bare thighs, and there’s a flicker of something dark passing over his face, but he says nothing.

You want to ignore it—God, you should ignore it—especially since you’re stuck with him for a while longer. But the rising heat in your body and the quickening pulse beneath your skin make it hard to think straight, harder still to make good decisions.

So you bite.

“You gonna keep staring, or is this part of your charm routine?” You cock a brow, trying to ignore the way warmth crawls up your neck.

A slow smirk curls at his lips, but he doesn’t look away. If anything, he leans in closer, his hand resting just near your leg, making the air between you buzz. “You think I’m layin’ it on too thick?”

“Little bit,” you quip back, though your voice betrays you with how soft it comes out. You bite your lip, trying to stay sharp, but his eyes flick down to the movement, and the pulsing need low in your stomach tightens. “It’s not working, though.”

His smirk widens, like he’s enjoying this far too much. “Funny. Seems to me it’s workin’ just fine.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the way your heart races when he shifts closer, his fingers brushing against your leg. The touch is light, almost casual, but it’s enough to send a shiver racing up your spine, your breath catching in your throat.

“You can roll your eyes all you want, doll. It don’t change the fact I can see what you need, clear as day,” he purrs, his voice dropping lower.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you snap back, though your words lack the heat you want them to have.

“Little bit of attention.”

He reads you too well. It drives you insane. “I don’t need anything from you. Just get me where I need to go.”

A quiet chuckle rumbles from his chest. “That so? ’Cause the way you’ve been shiftin’ in that seat says otherwise.”

You bristle at his words, but the truth sticks like a thorn. There’s a reason you haven’t told him to stop, a reason you haven’t shut this down. You’re tired, frustrated, and the way his eyes keep grazing over you… you can’t stop wondering how easy it’d be to let him pull you under, to let him take all your worries away.

“You’re losing it, old man,” you shoot back, even though you know it’s a losing game. He sees right through you, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna make it easy.

“Am I?” he purrs, his hand sliding up to rest fully on your thigh. “So, you don’t want me touching you like this, darlin’?”

The way he says it—slow, deliberate, laced with that sweet, thick accent—it’s all innocence, even though everything about it screams otherwise. You know you’ll be hearing that “darlin’” in your head later, when you’re playing with yourself.

You smirk, giving him a little more rope. “I didn’t say that.”

He hums, eyes flicking between the road and your legs. “And I’m guessin’ you wouldn’t say a word if I moved my hand higher, would you?”

Your legs part just slightly, almost like an instinct. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But not to Joel.

“Look at you,” he drawls, a shit-eating smirk spreading across his lips. “Already makin’ it easier for me.”

You’re about to fire back, ready to keep this banter rolling, when his fingers slide higher. A soft sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“You ready to stop actin’ up, or we still playin’ cat and mouse, pretty girl?” His eyes lock on yours, dark and unwavering.

Your pulse quickens at the challenge in his voice, your breath catching in your throat. His fingers are still on your thigh, warm and rough, and it’s messing with your head. You know you should stop this now, make him pull his hand back, but you’re not sure if that’s what you want.

“I’m not acting up,” you murmur, trying to hold on to some sense of control, even though his touch is making that damn near impossible.

His grin widens, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “Mhm, sure you ain’t.”

You glare at him, but it’s weak. Pathetic, really, and the worst part is he knows it. He knows how to get under your skin even though he has known you for half an hour, knows exactly what buttons to push to unravel you just enough to keep you hanging on.

“I mean it,” you snap, though your voice wavers. His hand shifts slightly on your thigh, fingers curling just enough to make your stomach twist into knots.

“I wanna believe you,” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that vibrates through you, all the way down to where you’re aching for him to touch you. He leans in a little more, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell that familiar scent of worn leather and something dark and intoxicating. “But you keep lettin’ me touch you. Kinda sends a different message, don’t you think?”

Your heart’s pounding in your chest, the steady rhythm of it loud in your ears. You don’t know how to answer, don’t know if you want to answer. Every rational thought in your head is telling you to stop, but your body isn’t listening.

Instead, you shift slightly, your leg pressing into his hand, just enough to encourage him to keep going. His eyes darken, and a slow, dangerous smile tugs at his lips.

“Thought so,” he mutters, and then his fingers start to move again, sliding higher, testing the boundaries you haven’t set.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the sigh that’s clawing its way up your throat, but it slips through anyway. He hears it, of course he does, and the satisfied gleam in his eyes makes your face flush with heat.

“You wanna tell me to stop, now’s your chance,” he murmurs, his voice soft but carrying an edge of challenge, like he knows damn well you’re not going to.

His gaze shifts between the road and you and it almost seems like every time those eyes are back on you they become darker.

You glance at him, your heart in your throat, and there’s that flicker of hesitation—you should say something, should stop this before it goes any further—but the way his fingers are brushing higher, dangerously close to the ache between your legs, makes it impossible to think straight.

So you just meet his gaze, and you don’t say a word.

His smirk grows, and his hand drifts even higher. “Good girl.” This time he fully gropes your thigh, groaning like he’s been waiting to unleash this. “You wanna take these off for me, sweetheart? Let me give you as much attention as you want.”

He must have some psychic hold on you because you follow his instructions with no hesitation this time. Your fingers eagerly unbotton your shorts and pull the zipper down, lifting your hips to shimmy them down.

He looks at you for a lot longe than he should taking into account he’s currently driving a beast of a vehicle. “Lord above… you’re a sight and a half, darlin’”

He goes back to massaging your thigh, making circles with his thick fingers, going each time higher. Once he reaches your panties he stops and just rests his hand there, right at the edge of where you want him most. His fingers teasingly brush the fabric, enough to make you gasp, but he doesn’t go any further.

“You’re gonna have to ask for it,” he rasps, his voice thick with something darker now. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

His words are like a key turning in a lock, and your resistance crumbles. You can’t deny it anymore, not when his hand is right there, so close to what you need, your entire body burning up under his touch.

“Joel…” you whisper, your voice almost pleading now, barely more than a breath.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand pressing a little more firmly, his fingers tracing along the outline of your heat through the fabric. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

Your breath stutters, and your hips shift on their own, pressing into his hand. You’re barely hanging on, the tension between you two crackling like a live wire, but he’s still holding back, waiting for you to give in completely.

“Please…” you finally manage, the word spilling out before you can stop it. It’s humiliating and liberating all at once.

“Please what?”

You let out the shadow of a moan. “Please touch me.”

Joel’s hand slips under the fabric, his fingers finally finding your core, and the groan that escapes him sends a shockwave of heat straight to your core. “Good girl,” he breathes, his voice like gravel as his fingers start to move in slow, torturous circles.

Your head falls back against the seat, a whimper escaping your lips as he finally gives you what you’ve been craving. “Jesus, Joel…”

“Feels good, huh?” he rasps, his eyes flicking from the road to you, watching the way your body reacts to every touch, every motion of his hand. “Told you I know exactly what you need, baby.”

You’re melting under his touch, your body humming with the pressure of his fingers moving against you, his voice guiding you deeper into the haze of pleasure. You’re not even sure what’s more intoxicating—the way he’s touching you or the way he’s talking to you, that low, commanding tone unraveling you completely.

“That’s it, sweetness, grind on my fingers, make that little pussy feel good” Joel growls, having a harder time keeping his eyes on the road now.

“Fuck… that feels you good da-“ you stop yourself before you’re able to finish the word. Your ex didn’t like you calling him that, so you usually kept that particular kink under wraps, but something about Joel is making it surface back up.

He looks up at you, pupils blown out. “Say it… say wha you wanna say baby.”

You lose all restraint and moan loudly. “It feels so good, daddy.”

“That’s right, babygirl.” He moans “Daddy’s fingers make your pretty cunt fucking drip don’t they?”

His words send a wave of pleasure through your body, a mixture of shame and intense arousal surging in your chest. You’re too far gone to stop now, letting the haze of lust pull you under completely.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a confession. “So fucking wet.”

Joel’s fingers move faster, rough and skilled, coaxing you into a rhythm that has you arching your back against the seat. His other hand grips the wheel tight, knuckles white, and you can tell he’s barely hanging onto his self-control, but that only makes it hotter.

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he growls, voice thick with desire. “Been wantin’ to ruin you since the minute you sat your pretty ass in this truck.”

The vulgarity, the way he talks to you—it should feel wrong, but instead, it’s like gasoline thrown on the fire already burning inside you. You grind down harder on his fingers, chasing the high he’s offering, the tension building fast in your core.

You glance over at him, his jaw tight, eyes darting between the road and you, and there’s something so filthy about the way he’s trying to keep it together while driving, the way his control is slipping. You want to push him, make him lose it completely.

“You’re losing it too,” you pant, breathless, pushing your hips into his hand. “Can’t even keep your eyes on the road, can you?”

His gaze snaps to yours, dark and predatory. “Careful. Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll pull this truck over.”

The threat in his voice makes you shiver, heat pooling low in your belly. You’re right on the edge, your body strung tight as a bow, every nerve lit up under his touch.

“Do it,” you challenge, voice breathless and wrecked.

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his hand gripping your thigh so hard it almost hurts. Without another word, he swerves the truck off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulls into a secluded spot off the highway.

Your heart is pounding, adrenaline mixing with the arousal as he throws the truck into park and turns to face you fully. The look in his eyes is feral, like he’s done holding back, and you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“Such a little attention whore, baby,” he growls, unbuckling his seatbelt with one hand, the other still teasing you between your legs. “I’m all yours now.”

In one swift motion, he pulls you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips, the weight of his hard length pressing against you through his jeans. He is big, a lot bigger than you expected and it makes your mouth water,almost like your body is showing you how badly you need him in a million and one ways.

His hands grip your hips possessively, eyes locking with yours as if daring you to make the next move.

You don’t hesitate. You grind down on him, both of you letting out low moans at the contact. The friction sends sparks flying up your spine, and you can already tell this is about to be the kind of reckless, dirty, no-going-back encounter you’ve both been craving.

Joel’s hands slide up your back, fisting in your hair as he pulls you down to feast on your neck. His lips trail down, biting at the sensitive skin there, and it’s too much, too intense. You feel like you’re going to combust right here in his arms.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he mutters against your skin, one hand slipping between you to push your panties aside, his fingers slipping through your slick heat again. “Filthy little slut, letting a stranger put his fingers inside you. Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name, pretty girl.”

Your hips buck against him, the promise of release so close you can taste it. “Fuck, Joel, please…”

“Try again. You know better.” his tone is firm and commanding, all the previous playfulness gone.

“Please daddy, let me come”

“That’s it,” he groans, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure, pushing you right to the edge. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me feel this tight little whole clench on my fingers.”

The way he says it with such authority, has you unraveling in his lap, your entire body trembling as you come hard against his hand. Your vision goes white, pleasure crashing over you in waves as you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Joel watches you, his eyes hooded and hungry, soaking in every second of your release. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers until you’re shaking from the aftershocks, your body limp and boneless against him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied as he finally pulls his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you. “Tastes even better than I imagined.”

You’re still catching your breath, head buzzing from the intensity, but the way his hardness presses against you makes it clear you’re far from done. It’s not like those other times when finishing a guy felt like an obligation, when the effort barely felt worth it because they didn’t take the time to get you there first. But Joel? Joel made you come so hard you can’t help but want to return the favor. It’s not a chore—it’s something you crave.

“My turn,” you murmur, fingers already working at the button of his jeans.

His grip tightens on your hips, eyes darkening as he watches your hands move, but there’s a flicker of restraint. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. Can’t have this beast of a truck just parked in the middle of the road.”

You shift back onto your own seat, lifting your leg off his lap to give yourself the space you need. The desire to make him feel just as wrecked as you burns in your chest, so you lean down, your gaze steady on his as your fingers trail lower.

“You can drive,” you say, voice low, teasing. “I’m not stopping you.”

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his jaw ticking like he’s fighting with himself. For a second, you think he’s going to tell you to stop, but then he huffs out a breath, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “You’re trouble.”

You smile up at him as you feel him start the engine again, your hand slipping lower, teasing him through his jeans.

Joel’s breath hitches as your fingers brush against him, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road, but you can tell he’s losing the battle.

His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he tries to keep his cool, but you can see right through it. The way his body is responding to your touch, the way he’s barely holding it together, it only spurs you on.

You undo his jeans and pull the zipper down, feeling the heat radiating off him. His breath stutters, and his hand slips to grip the side of the seat, trying to ground himself as you free him from the confines of his jeans.

You wrap your hand around him, feeling how hard he is, how thick, and the groan that escapes his lips sends a thrill through you. “Fuck,” he breathes, eyes flicking between the road and you, his control slipping more by the second.

You lower your head, your lips grazing his tip, and Joel’s entire body tenses. His hips buck up, instinctively searching for more, and you can’t help but smirk as you take him deeper into your mouth.

“Holy shit,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, his hand instinctively flying to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

But even as he says it, there’s no hint of him wanting you to stop. He keeps urging you on in slow, measured strokes. The tension in him is palpable, and you can feel the way his control is fraying with every flick of your tongue, every inch you take him deeper.

His breathing grows ragged, and he glances down at you, eyes dark with heat and disbelief. “You’re so pretty with a fat cock stuffed in your mouth baby, look at you ”

You hum around him, the vibration making his hips jerk again, and the low groan that rips from his throat sends a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through you. He’s unraveling, right in front of you, and you’re loving every second of it.

You pick up the pace, your hand working him in tandem with your mouth, and Joel’s growl turns guttural, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Right there, darlin’ girl, don’t stop…” he hisses, head tipping back slightly as his hips move in time with your rhythm, chasing the release that’s so damn close.

His eyes flick between the road and you, pupils blown, struggling to stay on course even as his focus is being torn apart by you.

“Fuck, baby… I’m not gonna last if you keep—” He cuts himself off with a harsh groan, his hips bucking again, muscles taut and trembling as he loses the last shred of his composure. He’s completely at your mercy now, and it’s making him wild, his control slipping fast.

You don’t let up, your hand dropping lower to play with his balls, and he’s right on the edge, teetering dangerously close. His breath comes in ragged bursts, and his body tightens under you, his hips jerking harder, more desperate now.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

Instead of answering you take him deeper down your throat, your nose burrowing in the dark curls at the base of his cock, his smell so musky and intoxicating it makes you dizzy.

“Shit, shit—” Joel’s voice is a strangled growl, and then you feel him pulse in your mouth, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he finally comes undone. He’s barely holding onto the wheel, the truck swerving just enough to make your heart race, but it’s clear he’s past caring. He spills hot and hard into your mouth, the sound of his release drowned out by the pounding of your own pulse in your ears.

You keep going, milking him for every last bit, until he’s trembling beneath you, his breathing ragged and uneven. When you finally pull away, he’s still gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“Holy fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough and wrecked. His eyes flick down to you, wild and wide, before darting back to the road. He lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Best hitchhiker I’ve ever picked up, that’s for damn sure.”

As if on cue, the truck finally pulls into the shop, the hum of the engine fading, the weight of what just happened still hung thick between you two. Joel cuts the ignition, his hand lingering on the key for a beat too long, like he wasn’t quite ready to step back into reality. He realizes his now soft cock is still out and starts to zip himself back up.

You try to gather yourself, smoothing your clothes and brushing a hand through your hair as if it’d erase everything that had gone down on that highway. You can tell it’s gonna stick with you for a good while longer though.

Joel clears his throat, glancing over at you with a look that was somehow both satisfied and conflicted. "Well, we’re here," he mutters, but his hand was already fishing in his back pocket for something. "Here." He hands you a crumpled business card, his name scrawled across it with a number underneath. "In case you run into any more car trouble or, y'know... anything else."

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows damn well this had nothing to do with the rugged old thing and everything to do with the heat still simmering between you. You take the card, trying to hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

"Thanks," you reply, pocketing it casually, though the way your heart raced gave you away. "For… you know, all of it."

He just gives you that signature look of his—half-smirk, half-smolder—and with that, you slide out of the truck, legs still feeling like jelly as you walked away. You didn't even need to turn around to know his eyes were glued to your retreating figure.

#joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller #trucker!joel #joel smut #joel miller smut #joel x reader smut

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venus-is-thinking · 11 hours

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DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 14: Initial Thoughts

What an episode! I can't believe that we're probably starting to near the end of the Trial. But, considering we're almost there, we DEFINITELY have a lot to talk about. It's a longer episode, and there's a LOT to go over, so buckle in!

SPOILER WARNING FOR DRDT CH 2 PART 2!

T/W: Murder, hanging (with depictions)

The Reactions

Hu is literally so pretty.

I wasn't expecting her to get a whole mechanic defending Nico, but it makes sense. Letting other students cut in during the Class Trial is a great way to draw specific attention to a character point, and it's very clear that Hu's over-defense of Nico is going to be important moving forwards.

RIP to my "using the weight rack as the carousel" theory. The fan probably makes more sense. I just still have no idea how the 300-ish pound or whatever weight rack managed to get knocked over in the struggle.

I'm glad they directly pointed this out. Trying to kill everyone in the Class Trial was the EXACT thing Hu was so pressed about David doing. It's a weird double standard to be so forgiving of Nico when they tried to do the same thing.

Insane thing to say if Eden is the culprit and killed Arei because she didn't believe her. Then again, if my explanation for a lot of Eden Trial dialogue is "she's speaking out of regret for killing Arei now that she knows Arei was being legit," maybe she's just calling herself cruel as well.

This is honestly very valid.

Do you think "here" implies Nico trusts someone in the outside world? Based on their secret, it seems like they probably didn't have many friends. Could also be referring to animals? Or Mai Akasaki?

Big psychic damage to Hu though, considering we know she thrives on other people relying on her. She wants Nico to be someone who relies on her sooo bad, but they just... don't.

Like, girl. They literally JUST said that they don't trust anyone. That includes you.

She's clearly projecting in some way, though, which is definitely an oof. I wonder if Hu wishes she had someone who was undeniably on her side in the past...?

(To be clear: I think Hu is a very well written and interesting character. She fits the fucked up vibes of Despair Time, but coming from a more surprising angle of "that really nice and caring person can also be fucked up." She's just clearly in the wrong here, so I get to clown on her as I clown on everyone else.)

Ace is honestly so valid for this. Like, yeah he's kind of a bully and he sucks sometimes, but. Like. He did almost get murdered and people are, like, mad at him for it? Huh???

If Ace does end up being the Chapter 2 killer because he snapped, I honestly think he's so valid for that.

It is my personal agenda to record every instance of J being notably anti-murder. I don't know where it's going but if it does go somewhere I want my credit because it is Apparent.

(The entire fanbase nods in agreement.)

I know some people definitely still think/thought that Hu and/or Nico was responsible for the crime, so we've all DEFINITELY been squinting at that alibi. I fully believe it's true, but that doesn't change the fact that I wouldn't put it past Hu to make a fake alibi to protect Nico. Idk if Nico would go along with it, though.

I got so jumpscared by the Closing Argument-style CG.

I'm so glad we did get a definitive answer on how this thing worked. I was so afraid that we were just gonna solve the Arei murder method and the exact solution of Ace's would be a "left to audience interpretation" kind of thing.

I'm not exactly sure where the blood on Ace's fingertips comes from? Maybe he cut his hand on the wire when he was trying to struggle after he woke up or something.

This makes so much more sense than anything I saw theorized though, lol. The fan falling from drop hanging totally checks out as a way that the murder mechanism could fail.

I have NO fucking clue why Nico opted for this as the murder mechanism, though. I get wanting to use Hu's wire to frame her, but why didn't you just cut Ace's throat with the wire in the first place???

where did their cape go :(

Potentially suspicious line from Ace? I don't know what he's referring to as "go through all this." Like, maybe just reliving the murder attempt, I guess...? Could also be going through the Class Trial, though, if Ace killed as a result of Nico trying to kill him.

*Levi's secret quote looms*

Things that make me think Nico is either a victim or a survivor. Like, are you really gonna say this and then go try to kill someone else? ...Or Ace again, I guess??

Fun fact: this was actually what guided me to my initial killer picks, before I discussed with anyone else or read any theories! I thought the killer was trying to frame Nico, so it had to be Eden or Ace. The tape and everything else was just what locked it in for me. It's fun to see Teruko follow more or less the same path that I did when I was trying to solve the mystery :)

TAPE TIME :D

The use of the Bound Wrists truth bullet actually really confused me at first bc I didn't realize we were just talking about the tape. I was like, were Arei's wrists bound because Ace's were and it was intended to be another similarity???

Maybe Eden's just being nice, but I find it really suspicious that her instinct after all this time is "didn't MonoTV take it" and not "oh I guess Ace is probably the murderer."

Teruko has now outlined two different ways that it makes sense if the killer was in the gym that night. If I were Eden, and I were innocent, I would be realizing that there's a very small suspect pool left, and I know that I'm not the killer, giving me additional information. Instead, she's questioning the validity of the tape argument, which isn't useful for narrowing down the killer-- it's useful for keeping the suspect pool wider and not leaving herself as one of three (but basically two) options.

I kinda get why people are upset with Rose here, but it's also kind of an oof because they're only mad because Rose is really smart. Like, no one's out here like "oh my god Ace you didn't recognize the tape??" Y'know, because they think he's stupid. Rose has a really good memory, which raises the standards really high, which sets Rose up for failure.

In Rose's defense, she also never saw the tape in Nico's gym murder OR on the carousel for Arei's murder. She only saw the pieces in the trash can, which seemed to be inside out. Against Rose's defense, it would probably have been for the best if she'd gone in to look at the crime scene.

Am I tripping, or is "fish misunderstanding" a weird way for David to phrase this? The misunderstanding with Teruko was assuming that the murder happened last night, which was in fact because of the fish-- but the thing Teruko should have noticed, which makes it Teruko's mistake specifically, was the body swinging.

I'm probably reading into things too hard, but it's so hard with David. What do you know!!!

Damn, Teruko is SPEEDRUNNING this character arc. Considering we basically know she's locked in for all 6 chapters, I'm really surprised to see her making this much progress this fast.

I'm guessing that this means that Teruko is probably due for a major setback sometime sooner or later. But, interestingly, this makes me feel like Teruko realizing that working alone doesn't work isn't her character arc's end destination; it's the willingness to open herself up to caring about others even in the face of the consequences of losing someone you love. Teruko is closing herself off from everyone because she knows she's going to lose them. Maybe her end destination is allowing herself to love people, even if she might lose them someday.

This was fruity as hell btw. I'm starting to think Rose may be our replacement support if Charles does die in Chapter 3.

It's so funny that this is basically Teruko claiming in-universe protag privilege. Go off, queen.

I also said something along the lines of "Hu are we really doing this again." Totally forgot that the BDA is still relevant, lol.

I personally find the way Veronika phrased this to be very telling from an author's POV. Veronika doesn't say "she must not have committed the murder," she says "she must not have witnessed the murder." It would be totally reasonable for any of the students to forget that the rule is written in a way where a killer could fail to see the moment of murder, but DRDTdev wanted to draw attention to the rule's exact phrasing again, which is a deviation from the phrasing in the canon games.

To be clear here, I stand by this even if Eden isn't the killer and the BDA group really is Eden/Whit/Teruko. I still think it could be a reminder for a future chapter when it comes up. But, I don't think it makes sense to change the phrasing of a base rule unless there's a specific reason you want it to be different. Whether now or later, this feels like a reminder that it IS possible for the blackened to trigger the BDA.

I don't necessarily "believe David," per se, but I do think it's interesting that we're drawing attention to this. I don't really think it matters, especially because I doubt the characters remember, but I'd place my bets on Eden being the last one because of that, "Teruko, wait!" thing.

It doesn't matter because, if David or anyone else saw the body, no one can confirm which two of Teruko, Whit and Eden set off the BDA, but it's an interesting note.

It's so funny how no one, fanbase or in-universe, can tell if David is lying though. Like, he COULD have seen it, but he also easily could just be making shit up to try to throw the Trial again.

will I EVER understand what the fuck this man is cooking

Why. I thought you wanted to end the killing game to finish what Xander started. I don't know what's happening :( /pos

My guess for now is just that he's still trying to kill Teruko, in keeping with Xander's plans?? Idk how making her more distrustful makes her more likely to die, though.

I do find it very interesting that Eden's approach/reaction has been to be very quiet and freaked out whereas Ace's approach/reaction is to freak out VERY loudly. Ace's is fitting because what does he do other than freak out loudly, but I might have expected Eden to do... idk, something else? It makes enough sense though, considering either the group is right to suspect her, or she's still coping with losing Arei a little bit ago.

...*squints REALLY fucking hard*

The music and voice acting in this section is REALLY fucking good. It's sad/charming/soft enough that it feels like it could be genuine, but there's still a little something that makes you have to question whether or not it's real. You WANT to believe Eden, but it's so hard to do so fully.

Y'all think Eden's crying is reminding Teruko of whatever Arei's crying reminded her of?

i'm out of images :(

I really like Teruko assuming that Eden is innocent first. She's too distrusting and also reasonable (it is life or death after all) to just hard clear Eden based on nothing, but she's offering a bit of a reprieve to Eden. Eden's friendship means that she isn't going to get immediately targeted in her most down moment, and that's it. It's a small way to show Eden she does care.

On another note, the fact that Eden got to hug Teruko and that Teruko said the "let go of me" NOW is honestly one of the main reasons I trust Eden more. I felt like that was obviously going to happen, but I was expecting the post-Trial. Putting it here is wild.

Theory Update/Analysis

Oh boy, it's accusing time! It makes sense that we're going to start with Ace. At this point, I can honestly see it going either way. Major props to DRDTdev either way, but ESPECIALLY if Eden really is the culprit. I was so confident in it, but they're really making me question my assumptions.

I think that both Ace and Eden have good reasons to be the blackened or not to be, and good reasons to die here or to not. I'm going to do my best to make a list of reasons for both characters and give a bit of my thoughts on them. They're roughly ranked in most to least important order imo, but I didn't think too hard about it.

EDEN

Reasons Eden Would Be The Blackened:

THE TAPE: It would be easier for her to take the tape than Ace, as attention was on Ace in the gym. The tape's disappearance from the background also happens to coincide with Ace knocking her over and her standing back up.

THE NOTE: Eden already knows all the info she would need to know to write that note. She could have put the note back together to give herself a defense, to try to disprove herself as the culprit with her handwriting, because Rose was going to do it anyways, and/or to frame Arturo if she didn't know he had an alibi. I think any of these reasons, or a combination of these reasons, are enough to make it possible, and while Ace could've overheard, it's definitely less easy for him.

NOT BELIEVING AREI: Both Arei and Charles have, in this trial, been shown to question whether or not Eden believed Arei wanted to be Eden's friend. If Eden simply did, this plot point goes nowhere.

A GOOD PERSON: Eden has been called a good person, but other than that freaky CG, nothing has really come of it. Is the plot relevance of Eden being a good person really going to resolve by saying "Eden is a good person, she'd never kill her friend!"? If a good person isn't gold, Eden still feels like a missing piece of that puzzle.

INCENTIVE TO FRAME NICO: This one's a bit more of a reach, but I don't really understand the point of framing Nico if you're Ace. Of course Ace is going to insist Nico is the murderer no matter what. If you're Eden, you have a direct audience to setting it up similarly: Ace. If you can get Ace to go all in on Nico, that's one less person who was in the Gym who suspects you. Eden and Teruko feel less likely to say "oh well it looks like Nico's murder so it MUST be Nico."

HEAVY FOCUS IN CH 2: DRDTdev seems to give the chapter death's important content shortly before their deaths. Eden has been one of the most prominent characters this chapter, which could be a bad sign.

Reasons Eden Wouldn't Be the Blackened

HER EMOTIONAL REACTIONS: I think I stand with everyone else when I say that the thing giving me pause with Eden!Culprit is how devastated she truly seems to be. I do still think it could be a combo of guilt and panic over the prospect of dying, but it's hard to justify everything.

HER FRIENDSHIP WITH AREI: Sort of a spinoff of the last one, but Arei was at least offering to Eden to be friends and to protect her. If Eden did believe that, to any extent at all, it's hard to imagine her killing Arei in cold blood.

THE FISH: The biggest question when it comes to evidence as to how Eden could be the killer. If Nico fed the fish and they were all still there last night, and Eden had an alibi until after the Relax Room closed, how would she have gotten the fish to add to the crime scene?

THE BDA: Easy to ignore imo considering we've already called it into question within the series proper, but still worth talking about. For Eden to be the culprit, either someone else saw the body first and isn't claiming to have (or it's David), or we're burning the "Eden didn't witness the crime and thus could still trigger the BDA" card here.

GENDER BALANCE: Possibly an irrelevant point, but it is true that we've had 2 women and 1 man die so far. If a man was the killer, it'd keep it even. Unlikely to be relevant as any disparity could be easily balanced out in Chapter 3 with (presumably) 3 death slots.

Points About Eden That Could Go Either Way

THE FORK CG: I firmly believe that this could be setting up for Eden being a more important character throughout the series or to die after a moment of intrigue, possibly letting us explore/imply more in her post-death bonus episode.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HU: Hu has lost David as a sane ally. Nico is telling her that they don't want her speaking for them and that they don't trust her. Would DRDTdev prefer to fully isolate Hu moving into Chapter 3 by getting rid of Eden, or to leave Hu with one friend who still believes in her.

CHARLES HAVING EDEN'S SECRET: By telling us Eden's secret ahead of time by Charles revealing it to Teruko, extra focus was given to Eden's secret. Was this just the easiest way to get everyone's secrets revealed based on character dynamics, or was it meant to imply that Eden's secret is extra important? Is that because she's the killer? Is it a #ArEden sweep???

ACE

(why are they both orange)

Reasons Ace Would Be The Blackened:

NO EVIDENCE-BASED ISSUES: This is the biggest and strongest point across the whole board imo. There is no tangible, evidence-based reason why Ace COULDN'T have done the crime. Out of all 13 currently surviving students, he's the only one who that's true for. That obviously makes him a viable suspect.

WOULD ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DO IT: Ace has been Freaking The Fuck Out this chapter. I could VERY easily see him deciding to kill here. I don't think anyone is trying to argue that Ace is too emotionally attached to the cast to try to kill all of them, because he clearly isn't.

WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?: I'm not really sure where Ace's character is going to go from here. I'd be interested in seeing more from him, but, like, where is his character arching to if not a killer? Ace is so disliked and intense that it's hard to imagine him really, fully pivoting and caring about others, but if he can't do that, is he destined to be a killer eventually?

HEAVY FOCUS IN CH 2: DRDTdev seems to give the chapter's death important content shortly before their deaths. Ace has been one of the most prominent characters this chapter, which could be a bad sign.

Reasons Ace Wouldn't Be the Blackened

OBVIOUSNESS & POINT OF CHARACTER: Of course Ace would be willing to kill Arei or whoever and the rest of the students. This is kind of the inverse of my "would absolutely fucking do it" point-- I don't know exactly how much surprise it would carry if Ace were to be the culprit. And, more than that, I feel like the point of Ace is that he is a victim here, but he's so unlikable that no one wants to acknowledge that or believe in him. I think it'd be an interesting comparison, if everyone really wants Ace to be the killer, but he just isn't. To everyone's dismay, Ace is still here. Now what?

SECRET LARGELY UNRESOLVED: Ace's secret hasn't really had any plot relevance yet. It seems like most people's do. I'm like lowkey expecting them to bring back the starvation motive from SDR2 in Chapter 4 and have SOMETHING happen with Ace there. Either way, while it could be reserved for his bonus episode (a la Min and Xander), I'd expect that his secret would have more main-story impact before he dies.

EXISTENCE OF SCRUM DEBATE: We're suspecting Ace first, but we still haven't done the scrum debate for this trial. Unless the scrum debate is "do we just vote for Ace without ever really pursuing Eden" and the answer is "yes," I don't see how we get out of this suspecting Ace period with a scrum debate without at least entertaining the idea of Ace's innocence.

STRONG CONNECTIONS TO OTHER CAST MEMBERS: Ace is very relevant to the Levi, Nico and Hu plotlines right now. Are they really going to just... get rid of him, when that's what both Nico and Hu would want?

ABILITY TO FIGURE OUT THE CONTRAPTION: Ace would not only have to recognize the way in which Nico was trying to kill him (which, to be fair is easier if he did wake up partway through), he would also have to conceptualize and figure out how to make the playground contraption successfully. I think Eden's clockmaking skills and... generally higher intelligence imo would be better suited to that.

COWARDICE: Ace is so fucking scared of everything. Would he want to put himself into harm's way by becoming the killer and having a do or die moment in the Trial? But, is he more scared of dying as a victim in the killing game, after seeing how close Nico came to killing him?

Points About Ace That Could Go Either Way

TAYLOR LORE DROP: Ace's friend, named Taylor per a Q&A with the dev, got vagued about in this Trial. Is that something to be pursued in a later Ace free time (following the one with Levi), or is that something that's going to be explained further in Ace's bonus episode (which could VERY easily be about friendship, considering it's Mai fucking Akasaki as the other person in the convo).

ACE'S BREAKDOWN @ LEVI: When Ace said he didn't fall for Levi caring about him at all, was that him affirming himself that it was the correct decision to try to kill, even if it'd put Levi's life at stake, who he previously kinda liked? Or was he lying to himself, and, at least previously, he wouldn't have wanted to kill Levi, no matter how harsh he seemed on the surface?

Well, that's all I got! Please let me know if you can come up with any more points for any of the 6 categories, because I'm very very curious to hear them! I'm thinking I might try to do an expansion on this in a separate post before next episode if I have time, exploring the ins and outs of each point with more textual evidence to back it up. I'd love to discuss any reader-suggested points too, if y'all have some in mind!

For now, I'm still personally leaning towards Eden as the culprit over Ace, but I wouldn't be surprised to see it be either of them. Well, other than the fact that my reaction to the killer being revealed is going to be :O no matter what.

#drdt #drdt spoilers #danganronpa despair time #teruko tawaki #eden tobisa #ace markey #i think those are the only characters for today #but i DEFINITELY talked about ace and eden enough for them to qualify #actually wait #hu jing #i talked about her a decent amount at the beginning #anyways sorry this is late! i had a concert night of the drdt drop so i'm just kinda a day behind everywhere i'd normally be re:drdt #killer reveal soon... insane

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sanguivor · 1 year

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Okay. I can't take it any longer. I NEED to ask you to tell us more about Velthryn, if you'd like to just. Dump anything about her, her backstory, campaign, art, what she looks like, whatever. I wanna KNOW.

I am so incredibly happy for this ask because Velthryn is my pride and joy, she's the best thing I've ever done, and she breaks my heart.

she's my very first d&d character and I played her for over three years in a campaign with my friends, we finished it last year actually and I'm still thinking about it. everything about the campaign was homebrewed, from the setting to the lore and the history of the people that live there, and it's so incredibly rich and detailed it's incredibly impressive considering that was the first time my friend dmed anything, so the story and the plot are entirely him but everything Velthryn was like the weirdest love letter between the two of us. I'm so incredibly proud of how her personal story played out.

I've talked a bit about her before (I have a tag for our campaign here) but never went into detail because I managed to keep her backstory a secret for THREE YEARS for plot reasons so this is the first time I'm going in depth about her like this I'm excited.

Velthryn is an assassin rogue moon elf from the far north, a land constantly blanketed in snow and ice even in the summer months, and under near constant night for most of the year. she's specifically from the Black Cathedral (Astaeran in Mavel'en, the archaic language moon elves speak) which is one of only two places inhabited in the far north, the other being the city Leirion, and both are inhabited solely by moon elves - the rest of the continent is separated by mountains, superstition, and sometimes the moon elves blades.

the Black Cathedral is a cult where generations of moon elves are raised in isolation to make offerings and prayers in blood for the Night Father so he might usher in what moon elves call the eventide, endless night and sleep not just for them but everything and everyone. a gentle end of the world. Velthryn was one of five moon elves called Nightdaughters, who are chosen every half a century to bring death to what the Cathedral call the five fated to die on the continent. just before the start of the campaign she and her sisters (Maevan, Ylaria, Helle, Honoria) found the first of the five; a farmer and his children still asleep in the early hours of the morning, and their deaths were not gentle. Velthryn, raised with the belief that death was a gentle mercy, could not reconcile the bloodlust she shared with her sisters so she did what no Nightdaughter should ever do or has ever done. She fled, and by sheer luck or fate ended in the company of the three others who should have been her sworn enemies but ended up being her greatest and only friends.

knowing full well a Nightdaughter who abandons her pilgrimage and her sisters should take her own life or be hunted by her sisters Velthryn stayed with what became our d&d party not because she thought the Cathedral was wrong but because she thought she could fix what she and her sisters had done. She was going to give a proper end to the five fated to die, give a proper prayer to the Night Father.

and for the next three real life years I got to figure out how Velthryn would navigate a strange world without the safety and familiarity of her sisters and their pilgrimage, how she would come to terms with the knowledge everything her Cathedral taught her was a lie, from the pilgrimage's purpose to the very existence of her gods, I got to make the heartbreaking decision in session where she sacrifices herself in place of one of the five fated to die in an attempt to save them and to atone for leaving her sisters, her pilgrimage, her god and her belief, only to come back from the gentle peace of death by the very god she died for who wanted more from her. she watched and felt most of her sisters die, dealt the killing blow for Maevan, she and Ylaria spared one another but went their separate ways, and Velthryn returned to the Cathedral alone. the campaign ended with Velthryn realizing the only mercy she could give the Night Father was the gentle peace of death, and as his last Nightdaughter she was the one who held the blade that brought the end to the old gods, whether they are or ever were gods no longer mattering.

she also once did 144 points of damage in a single attack. I LOVE assassin rogues <3

she's incredibly quiet and soft spoken, a good liar not because she's charismatic (the opposite actually) but because her expression is as unchanging as ice, she's intimately familiar with death and killing but she's not cruel, does not abide needless suffering. the first time she spilled blood on solid ground free of snow she slipped on it. she killed an oni single handed in two turns of combat (my dm is STILL mad at me) before anyone else had a turn. she's so unnerving she spooks horses just by being near them, and she hates them for being foolish and clumsy. she's so unused to sweets she thinks they're gross. she has a passive perception of 24, absolutely nothing got the drop on her. she's a rogue but she can't pick locks or pickpocket to save her life. her party had a paladin and a cleric and she was somehow the most devout of all of them. her fave colour is purple because of the purple in the arctic lights. she's my babygirl she's a murderer she's my everything <3

visually I've always had Vel compared to a ghost, piercing white eyes and hair with unnaturally pale skin in constant contrast to the black garb gifted to Nightdaughter's and her uncanny ability to disappear (+17 stealth by the end of the campaign lmao) she's often likened to a specter in appearance and thematically throughout the campaign. she was fully supposed to die but post campaign she's replaced the previous Elders of the Cathedral who she and the party killed in revenge for what happened to her and her sisters, it's the only time she was never merciful in her killing, and with centuries ahead of her she means to ensure the old gods rest is not disturbed.

I have a tag for her: x

two playlists: x + x

and a pinterest board: x

also a tag for her complicated love and rivalry with maevan: x

and a playlist for them too: x

there are so many different things about her I haven't even touched on, like the fact she and Maevan took the places of the fourth and fifth meant for sacrifice, but soooo much of the lore and campaign plot ties into the other party members and those aren't my stories to tell (though feel free to ask @mismageus about Áine, the little sun elf cleric who's saved Velthryn's life in more ways than one I know she'd love to talk about her)

anyway thank you soooo much for the ask I love talking about Velthryn <3

#this was so much longer than I expected lol #lipsie #asks #heretics campaign

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bluewolfangel01 · 1 month

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I feel uhhh so silllyy for requesting this but what if sheep mc snapped at like the brothers cuz there’s no way their 100+ year old asses are still acting like angsty teenagers (MC has a delusional joy moment😔😔😔)

It's okay, this is a very interesting request and I'm glad to do it 😁

I will specifically be writing Mc as a sheep like in the manga cause tiny pissed off sheep going off on tall and powerful demons is hilarious (sorry for the wait btw)

angy Mc is funny Mc and you can't change my mind

(I headcanon that the brothers sense their sin on Mc/you btw)

-Angy Mc-

Satan was the first one to sense something was up after a few minutes after his brothers and him started arguing

At first he wasn't sure what he was sensing, until he realized that he felt his sin, pure festering wrath

The worst part? He realized that it coming from Mc, who oddly enough was just sitting quietly on the couch, blankly staring at their phone in front of them

Satan went quite

Which caught the attention of the other brothers, who also turned their shouting at Satan, and even though Satan was very tempted to strick back at them, he held his tongue for once

Mc: "Can you all not fight, argue, or yell FOR ONE DAY?!"

It was at this point the brothers knew, they f#cked up (and went silent)

Mc: "Honestly, I know yall are brothers and demons so this kinda stuff is bound to happen but for Diavolo's sake this is getting ridiculous!"

Mc: *points hoof at Belphie* " Belphie. I know you're the avatar of sloth and therefore sleep a lot, but you can't solve all your problems and grief by sleeping the time away constantly, and the youngest brother brat thing doesn't always make you endearing!"

Mc: *points hoof at Beel* "Beel. I know you have survivors guilt but Lilith ended up living with humans like she wanted, Belphie doesn't need you standing up for him all the time, and you needn't continue to try to fill the hole inside you by eating in a restaurant that has no more food when you could just go down the street to another food place!"

Mc: *points hoof at Asmo* "Asmo. I know you ~get it on~ mainly to distract yourself from your troubles, to make yourself forget even just for a bit, sometimes but you can't push those feelings down forever, so actually talk with someone, anyone, about whats bothering you rather then trying ignore it! And stop hitting on your brothers, it's kinda weird!"

Mc: *points hoof at Satan* "Satan. I know you have an inferiority complex when it comes to Lucifer, but for the love of Diavolo, you wouldn't be called Satan, avatar of wrath, if you were like Lucifer in the first place. You have blonde hair and like cats, Lucifer has black grey-ish hair and likes dogs. AND THATS JUST THE START OF THE CONTRASTS! You are your own person, get that through your thick skull!"

Mc: *points hoof at Levi* "Levi. I know that it's easy to compare yourself to others and not at least feel somewhat bad about yourself but how do you not realize that you're the best tech wiz we got, an amazing gamer, and the most dedicated being I've ever seen in my life! So if you think that you're not good at something think again!"

Mc: *points hoof at Mammon* "Mammon. How in the whole Devildom is the Avatar of Greed almost always poor?! Also I know you are a material gorl, but items and things can't fully fill the void that you feel, so stop acting all emotionally constipated and just ask for affection if you want it!"

Mc: *points hoof at Lucifer* "And you Lucifer. I know you're the eldest and the prideful one, but there is such a thing as shouldering too much and being stubborn to a fault! Ask for help and for Diavolo to lessen your workload every once in a while! And stop not telling your brothers important things, rather then being all secretive to try to 'protect them' youre just hurting yourself and them cause of it!"

Silence was all that could be heard in the House of Lamentation, the brothers still as statues with varying amount of widened eyes, staring at the small being that they cherished that had just ripped into them so aggressively

After a minute ofa dead silent pause, Mc turned off their phone, hopped off the couch and started walking to the living room exit

Mc: "Honestly, I didn't expect to become a therapist for demons when coming here, and now I can't even read my enemies to lovers book in even somewhat peace.... I don't get paid enough for this."

They then disappeared from the brothers' sight, left to wrap their heads around what just happened

And the arguement that started it all? Who was going to make dinner that night

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tangents-within-tangents · 4 months

Text

Thoughts on Echo as amputee/disability representation

First and foremost, I am not disabled or an amputee and I don’t claim to speak for those communities (and if I was I couldn't speak for everyone). What little I do know mostly comes from this youtube channel (@oakwyrm), this post, and other research I’ve done for my writing (and like one amputee I kinda knew in passing). By all means correct me and add to the conversation, I just have some thoughts I want to share because I haven’t really seen this discussed anywhere

Overview

So Echo is interesting. He is a triple amputee which is pretty rare in media. His disabilities come from extremely traumatic circumstances: injured in a near-death experience, imprisoned and dehumanized as an experiment with no autonomy over what happened to his body.

There are a few moments in the shows where Echo is treated… questionably. Like this bit where Rex uses him as an example of the Separatists' evils to convince the locals to fight back:

To be fair, yeah Echo’s treatment does prove that the Techno Union is not neutral like they claim. The modifications that everyone is gasping in horror at here obviously weren’t made with comfort and accessibility in mind, nor with Echo’s consent. But you still just want to be sure that “They took away his freedom, his humanity, they tried to turn him into a machine” is about using him as a living computer, not the fact that he is missing limbs.

The Batch is also pretty insensitive toward him and his trauma imo, which is weird considering they've supposedly also faced discrimination for their mutations

Disabled people do have to deal with stuff like this in this day and age so I guess it can speak to those experiences. I think especially him being mistaken as a droid (and Hunter going along with it (bruh)) might resonate with some people.

Aside from that stuff, Echo isn't really treated any differently as a character/person which is really good (as low of a bar as that is).

We get this moment in CW where Echo contemplates that yeah things are gonna be different now

While also (imo at least) showing that he is still the same person regardless, evidenced by the fact that he just echoed Rex :,) I also think it's significant that he joins the Bad Batch on his own terms and we're given a really emotional scene to specifically show that he's not just like 'lumped in with the other misfits' but that it is his choice to go where he feels his place is.

A lot of people, myself included, are disappointed that TBB didn't have more time to explore Echo's PTSD, but I think the one panic attack scene we did get is really good. Even thought it's minor it at least is an appropriate reaction from a guy who was medically tortured (which is more than I've come to expect from Star Wars shows lol)

And it's really sweet to see Omega showing Echo some empathy and consideration.

It would have been nice to see more of his adjustment period, and other side effects like chronic pain and maintenance, but there’s a lot of daily life stuff the show never had time for (i.e. we don’t know if he removed his prosthetics to sleep, but we also never saw him sleep anyway). His disabilities might take on a background role (much like the character himself sadly) but for the most part they aren’t invisible or erased, nor do they define his character and arc.

Physical Appearance

Okay this one is bit dicey, bc on the one hand, yes complaints that Echo’s paleness (most likely caused by burns from the explosion or chemical burns from the cryo-chamber) is whitewashing are totally valid. But I also think you can draw comparisons to real life conditions that affect pigmentation/complexion (like you know burns). So while I understand why a lot of fanart will depict him with his original skin tone and with hair, consider that there are real people who have to live with temporary or permanent changes to their appearance, and the idea of “fixing" him by making him look more like his old self can be problematic.

It's also interesting to note that Echo could act as a reversal of the 'disabled/disfigured = evil' trope. He's pale and bald and wears black and red, which is so often visually associated with villains, but we all know Echo is the bestest boy™

The Headpiece

Echo’s headpiece is interesting because within the show we don’t actually ever learn much about it (idk if there is more info in books or whatever bc i don’t have them so?). He didn’t have it in CW so we know it didn’t come from the Techno Union and therefore Echo probably had more choice with it. We don’t know its exact purpose but it’s most likely related to his scomping abilities. When he is hacking with his scomp in CW, before he has his headpiece, it’s clearly very mentally straining:

We don’t see him struggling like this in TBB once he does have it (though that could be bc he got more used to it over time). There doesn't seem to be much of an impact when he removes his headpiece in s3 ep14-15, except that he gets stuck in the ports every time he uses his scomp which is not something we’ve seen before:

There might not be an exact real-world equivalent, but the headpiece is some kind of accessibility aid. It means that someone specifically designed a device to help him adapt to the changes the Techno Union made, as well as a helmet that integrates it. It’s removable and visually very present, much like a cochlear implant would be. (A lot of people actually headcanon it to act partially as a hearing aid, since it makes sense that Echo’s hearing would have been damaged in the explosion, but there isn't really any indication of this in canon.) The headpiece is never really acknowledged in the show, but I think that's a good thing. It's something he needs/wants and it just exists, completely normalized, and that's pretty cool 👍

Legs

Sigh... So from the very first episode of TBB I was really disappointed that the animation team or whoever completely visually erased Echo’s prosthetic legs (I think we all were, honestly, if fanart is anything to go by). It’s one thing when he’s in armor because he would probably want to protect his prosthetics, but we literally see him in his blacks and there is no indication whatsoever that he lost his legs even though it was not left up for debate at all in CW:

Like ??????!?

This is just really strange to me! Idk what went on behind the scenes with this decision but I don’t really see why it would be that much harder to animate or anything since it’s 3D and they've done it before. We do see some pretty sophisticated cybernetic technology in Star Wars canon that mimics real limbs:

But Luke’s fancy hand is technically 20ish years from now, so Anakin and Maul are more of a representation of what level we could expect here

So yeah, for no apparent reason, his leg amputation is effectively, visually and narratively nonexistent. Which is not great 👎

Arm!

The scomp on the other hand (uh lol!) is the complete opposite and I kinda love it!

At first I, like many others, thought it was a bit odd that they didn’t give Echo a prosthetic arm. Losing hands is basically a Star Wars tradition at this point, so robotic arms/hands are well established within the worldbuilding:

We aren’t necessarily given a canon reason for why Echo doesn't get a cybernetic arm (again unless it's in some lore book I haven’t read, sorry). General fanon explanations I’ve seen are that he either couldn’t because the Techno Union wired the scomp too far into his nervous system, and/or the resources to give him one were deemed too expensive for a clone (what about his legs tho?), or that he chose not to, usually because he thought the scomping was useful.

Regardless, I actually really love this choice (and it's the whole reason I made this post), because here's the thing: There’s a lot of problematic tropes out there that either erase/cure disabilities or compensate them with perks (like how pretty much any blind character is actually not blind by some sort of magic power). With amputees that is done with robotic arms. The character is still an amputee or course, and there is still value in that representation, if this story from Mark Hamill that makes me tear up is anything to go by:

but for the most part these characters function like anyone else, just with a limb that looks a little different. It’s no more than a video game skin, an able-bodied actor with a green screen glove. It “cures” the disability, or it actually makes the character even stronger than usual:

It usually makes sense within the world of the story, but the reason it’s not so great in my opinion is that in the real world we just do not have technology anywhere close to that yet. Prosthetics can more or less replace any mobility from lost legs, but not for all the complexities of a hand (and even if they could the average person wouldn’t be able to afford it).

I think it's actually really super cool that Echo’s scomp bypasses the canonically-established amputee erasure and functions much like a stump would irl. He integrates it into his movements and everyday life and it’s (as far as I know) a lot closer to an everyday amputee’s experience.

It doesn’t define his character, it doesn’t hold him back, he lives a full life, the other’s don’t treat him any differently, and he’s still a total karking badass

The only additional thing is that he sometimes uses it as a weapon (which given his story, I think it’s cool to see him taking back autonomy in a way, and we only see that like twice)

And also the scomping, which could be seen as the 'added/compensating superpower' trope. But narratively it's no different than if he was plugging in with a hacking gadget of some kind (he didn't necessarily "need" to lose his arm for it) and it’s not like Echo is completely defined by this skill. Personally, I think it's well worth the positives of him actually having a visible and realistically impactful amputation.

I see a lot of posts or comments out there that say stuff like “how come Echo doesn’t get a hand?” or fanworks that do give him one and I just think it’s a bit of a shame. If he did get a robotic hand, it just would have disappeared the same way his legs and Anakin’s arm did (aside from that one time he got yoinked by a magnet). When Echo did “get a hand” in the last two episodes there were comments like “yay he finally got a hand! but it doesn’t even work” but I was actually so relieved that it didn’t! Bc for one thing that wouldn’t make any sense, he grabbed it off a droid, it wasn’t designed to implement with his scomp, that would be really complicated. But more importantly because it again refused to erase/cure his disability! It functioned like a real-world cosmetic prosthetic (useless beyond appearance) which is exactly what he needed it for, so that he could blend in better with his disguise.

And he continually took it off throughout the episode and ditched it at the end. He only used it for the necessity of a stealth mission, he doesn’t feel the need to visually “fit in” in his daily life.

And, last but very much not least, he made a dad joke and from my intel that is very accurate representation!

TLDR: Echo’s scomp is actually really cool from an amputee representation perspective, especially within Star Wars, and I think that deserves some appreciation

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babacontainsmultitudes · 3 months

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🤔 Admittedly I was a little disappointed by the reveal (but certainly not surprised the foreshadowing was heavy in this episode lol), but not actually against how Beth (and Will) seem to be playing with it thus far- which is to say that I do think it has a lot of potential, and I suspect there's more to what we're seeing).

;) Big ol' ramble below

Mostly the theory has turned me off until now (at least insofar as I've witnessed it transpire in the fandom at large) because it struck me as so painfully ironic to see Trudy, a 1950s housewife, struggle to exist under the system that she's in, fail to fit the mold assigned to her, and be denied her personhood very literally for it (this being ironic insofar as how it mimics how she would have been treated back then). This and because frankly I just think she's a lot less interesting if she's fully a robot LOL, but I'll hopefully get to that in a bit.

Not that the hints at her mechanical nature and the relevance of Tucker's background were lost on me; I can appreciate why those would contribute to a plausible, fun and I think still mostly harmless theory (now fact). However, minus one or two specific posts I've seen on the matter (namely a recent one suggesting that if Trudy is a robot Beth is probably taking inspiration from The Stepford Wives, :( sorry person who made that post I couldn't find it I wanted to credit yoouuu), I've seen the theory just about exclusively presented in a manner that, rather than explore the metaphorical and political significance of Trudy being partially or fully mechanical, at best disregards the parts of her narrative that are at their core about sexism (among other related things), and at worst negates them entirely (i.e. Trudy only thinking and acting how she does because she's a robot malfunctioning and not because the world itself is causing harm and she rightfully wants something more than the role she was forced into, Trudy not even having any real thoughts and feelings of her own, etc.). I just think it kind of sucks to shove all those important things about her aside and say "actually, there's no person suffering here, she's just a robot" and perhaps worse yet to imply that she does have thoughts and feelings but because they result in Weird™ behavior it must be a problem with her code and not at all relate to what women were subjugated to during this point in American history.

CONVERSELY I don't think Trudy being a robot (or at least partially one) at least from what Beth and Will have presented us thus far, inherently suffers from any of these issues? First and foremost because Trudy definitely appears to possess sentience, thoughts, and emotions of her own, matters which immediately complicate her degree of personhood and don't inherently box her behavior in as a bug in her programming rather than an issue with the world she's been put in, quite the opposite in fact! I think they have a very solid groundwork laid out here to make a strong statement with Trudy's narrative (and perhaps ask the question of what is really malfunctioning here), all the more so since [I pull out a Rebecca Swallows-style conspiracy board] I don't think she's entirely robotic in nature? Actually you should just read Mack's tags in this post cause he has great thoughts on the matter (of which those are just some of them), but if I can direct your attention to one thing in particular, it would be Beth's fact (I *believe* from episode 2) about Trudy never graduating high school because of her essay where she suggested that "perhaps women could one day domesticate themselves", a statement that could of course be interpreted a number of ways but ultimately threatened the patriarchal status quo enough (in suggesting women's independence) to cost Trudy her diploma. Taken on its own this fact appears to contradict the theory that Trudy has always been robotic in nature, because it doesn't really make sense that Trudy would have been set up to go through high school (or school at all really) when Tucker's intention was/is for her to be the perfect housewife. You may then suggest that Trudy's memories of this are fabricated and not actually her lived experiences, in which case firstly perhaps you should reread my earlier point on the robot theory being used to actively negate and otherwise disregard the portions of Trudy's narrative that pertain to sexism and feminism, and secondly it really doesn't make any sense to me that Tucker would implant those kind of memories into Trudy's brain? To be completely honest if she's been a robot from the very beginning (rather than someone who became a cyborg, which is what I'm trying to suggest here), then I don't see why Tucker would program her with actual sentience in the first place (suspending my disbelief here with regards to the possibility of programming sentience to begin with). It seems much more likely to me then that Trudy was not always a robot, and instead altered by Tucker to force her into a role of subordination and remedy her """imperfections""". This option is significantly more interesting to me one, because it implies that Trudy has actually lived a life up until the present, full of its own complexities and strife (and dreams, and real actual memories worth exploring, etc.), and hence is not by any means "just a robot", and second because it amplifies the hypothetical statement being made on the lives of the real living women of the era and how they were treated and seen as being "in need of fixing" for not conforming to gender roles or otherwise acting "out of line" with what was expected of them.

OKAY THIS GOT OUT OF HAND SO I'M CUTTING MYSELF OFF HERE but I wanted to my share my current thoughts what with this ending and where I'm at so hopefully that was at least interesting to whoever has chosen to read through this one okay thank you byyyyyyyyye~

#BREATHES OUT sorry that was so much longer than expected #but isn't it always?#dndads #trudy trout #dndads spoilers #the peachyville horror #dndads s3 ep 4 #dungeons and daddies #*mostly* I'd been keeping my full feelings on the topic to myself #but now that the cat's out of the bag aaah I felt like I had to ramble a little ehehe #ik I haven't been around much lately! This is for a variety of reasons #but rest assured I still give far too many shits about this podcast LOL #aaaaaand uuuh post #(also THANK YOU again Mack for giving me the little push of reassurance I needed to post this one haha)#undescribed #gotta add that later sorry :(

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fistfuloflightning · 11 months

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I’ll never get there, but if I put the work in, maybe I’ll get close enough that I can chase just behind perfection — and have a front-row seat as you achieve it.

Chapter 20, Cultivate by @neonghostcat

#you achieved it alongside him hon 🥹#svsss #liushen #liu qingge #shen yuan #this was meant for ch52 but I took longer than expected lol #I had lots of thoughts about that particular scene #how it all had come full circle from SY’s promise to the fulfillment of that promise #then I spent far too long trying to find the orig scene lmao #how he went from ‘I’ll only be able to follow in your footsteps’#to literally fighting side by side #battle couple goals #scum villain #svsss art #fanfic fanart #my art #(I needed another excuse to draw the guandao lmao)#and I had so much fun sketching out the composition for this 😊#battle couple

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skyloftian-nutcase · 28 days

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Sky having asthma, or some kind of breathing issues? For the prompt event?

Link had always known his lungs were… sensitive.

For the longest time, it had been a minimal issue. Sure, he didn’t sprint as well as others—he typically struggled with stamina anyway. But he could hold his breath longer than many, he could exercise well enough, and he still fought better than any of his classmates. Just because he had a propensity to getting respiratory illnesses didn’t mean he couldn’t handle things. It was nothing a little air potion and stamina fruit couldn’t fix.

That was the case. Before he’d gone to the Surface.

Nowadays it seemed like anything and everything could make him sick, could take out his ability to breathe. During his journey he’d compensated with air potion after air potion until his fever had climbed so high he’d passed out. Thankfully, he’d been in Faron Woods, and the kikwis, while not the most experienced on the matter, had at least thought to bring him water and nuts and let him rest in the shade until he could drag himself to the Sealed Temple.

He hated it. He felt like anything could knock him down. He kept trying to reassure himself that he’d still managed to keep up, to save Zelda, to end the war before it could restart. But he’d nearly died afterward because he’d ignored it for so long, pushed himself too hard, and everyone treated him like he was practically made of glass nowadays as a result.

Link wasn’t a particularly rebellious teenager. He was fairly lazy by his instructors’ standards, and he preferred to rest. He could cause problems when he wanted, though. He didn’t go out of his way to cause problems, of course, but… nothing was going to stop him from doing so, either.

So when he got a little too antsy to linger on Skyloft being watched by everyone, he flew his loftwing farther into the sky than he had in a long time.

The Great Sky was vast, beautiful and terrifying in its infiniteness. While the Surface’s enormous scale was overwhelming because it was all inhabitable, the Sky was more akin to a void to get lost in, a fabled sea where its depths could never be fully explored. Islands speckled the air in varying pockets, but there were enormous swathes of open air with nothing as far as the eye could see. It was said some knights died trying to explore, their loftwings tiring out and plummeting through the cloud barrier to their doom.

Link wanted to test his limits, though. Not because he felt particularly ambitious, but simply because he felt like he was going insane. He used to be content daydreaming on Skyloft, but nowadays if he stayed too still in one place he felt like he was missing something. As much as he loved to lay about, and as little energy as he had that sometimes forced him to lay about, he couldn’t sit still for long unless he was caught in a spiraling slump.

So here he was, pushing Crimson to tear into the sky farther than ever before. He recalled seeing a small pocket of islands in the far distance a little over a year ago when he’d last tried exploring like this before the knights had reeled him in. Now that he’d earned his knighthood due to his adventure, he wouldn’t be stopped.

The nagging pain in his chest was nothing to worry about. That was just nerves. He just needed to move.

The cold wind snapped around him, flushing his cheeks and biting at his nose. He clutched the leather around Crimson’s chest more tightly, glaring into the sky, and his loftwing squawked, reflecting his defiance with a loud seeming battle cry. His companion was filled with as much energy as he was, and had been scraping at the edges of Skyloft the entire day before Link had finally plummeted off its edges.

The pocket of islands grew larger. One in the center was entirely square shaped, seeming endless in its crevices and walls that inhabited its center.

A maze?

Link smiled. A puzzle. Perhaps he’d find something useful in its center. He wondered what Hylia might have left for him here. Perhaps he’d missed a goddess cube? It wasn’t like it made much of a difference now, but his curiosity was piqued nonetheless.

He flew directly overhead before jumping off his loftwing. As he crashed through the air, the pressure in his chest continued to build, but the thrill of skydiving overruled it. Link maneuvered his body left, right, rolled, flipped, and laughed. He loved this.

Eventually, just before he could hit the stone floor in the labyrinth, he deployed his sailcloth, letting himself gently land before looking around eagerly.

This was going to be fun.

XXX

It was getting dark.

Zelda looked out at the sky worriedly. Link had gone flying around noon. She’d let him be, as she was busy figuring out plans for the Surface, but she was growing worried now. Where could he be? She’d investigated all the usual local islands, and when the best lead she’d gotten was that someone had seen him fly beyond all of them, she started to wonder if he’d gone to the next community over.

Skyloft was their largest settlement, but not their only one. Still, if Link had visited Nestout, Loftwing Roost, or the Dragon Spire, he should’ve been back by now.

Well. Loftwing Roost might distract him more. But… maybe that was all it was.

When Zelda asked Groose to help her investigate to cover more air, though, it quickly became apparent that he wasn’t anywhere they knew.

“You think he went to the Surface?” Groose asked as they looked out at the vast expanse from the Dragon Spire. It was the farthest out island in the usual communities, and it boasted the most dangerous territory.

That would be the most likely explanation, Zelda supposed. But Link didn’t usually go down there alone. “I guess…”

“Don’t worry, Zelda,” Groose assured her with an easy wave of his hand. “Airhead probably lost track of time or something. I can check Faron and the Sealed Temple, you go back to Skyloft.”

Telling Zelda not to worry about Link was the most pointless venture imaginable, but she didn’t bother correcting Groose. Instead, she nodded, watching him take off on his loftwing before looking back out at the sky.

He wouldn’t… why would he go to the Surface alone?

Zelda squinted at nothing, wondering, listening. She tried to focus, tried to remember how to use magic to track others. She’d been able to do it before, back when…

Closing her eyes, she inhaled and exhaled steadily. The world around her changed, pulsing and colorful and tasting of sensations she couldn’t even describe. Everything felt so alive. Her loftwing chirped a little, fluffing and rubbing her beak against Zelda’s face.

“You can sense it too,” she whispered, eyes still closed, feeling the connection to her partner.

Her loftwing chirped a little, feathers flattening in anticipation. Then she took off, and Zelda dove after her, and they were as one as they tore into the farther expanses of the Great Sky.

With the cloud barrier gone, daylight lasted a little longer, allowing Zelda more time to fly. But she knew she wouldn’t make it back to Skyloft before dark. She would either have to make camp somewhere or risk flying in an environment she was still not entirely trained to navigate.

Instinct drove both her and her loftwing forward, tracing Link’s presence. When they neared a squared shaped island, her loftwing circled it, indicating that this had to be their destination.

What in the world was Link doing here?

Furrowing her brow in determination and trying to ignore the gnawing worry in her gut, Zelda leapt off her bird and descended into the stony structure below. She maneuvered her body as her eyes scanned different passages from above, honing in on a feeling that chewed at her fraying nerves.

A speck. Small, still, green.

Her eyes widened. Link.

Zelda tipped herself forward, making her body more stream lined so she could move faster. She didn’t pull out her sailcloth until she was seconds away from touching down. The harsh winds helped her steady herself, and she felt breathless as she ran to her beloved friend, who was laying motionless on the floor.

“Link!” She called, falling to her knees, voice carrying on the winds. She shook him, surprised at the heat radiating off his body.

Sick. He was sick, he was sick, they were out here in the middle of nowhere and he was sick.

Despite the gales howling, she could hear distinctive whistle and rattle, ominous and horrible and far too familiar. It sounded off rhythmically with every heave of Link’s chest, and she could see how his belly moved paradoxically to his chest, trying to assist his exhausted body in every way possible to move air.

This was bad.

What was she going to do? What could she do? Link got breathing illnesses so easily, but usually an air potion, warm food, lots of rest and even more coughing would help fix it. He’d only gotten truly, desperately sick for the first time after their adventure, and that had been from infected wounds rather than anything in his lungs. Her friend was no stranger to pneumonia, but they’d never been this far from help when it had struck.

Surely with all this wind, she could figure something out. Zelda moved to sit him up, knowing that laying as he was would do him no good. She tried not think about how there was barely any light left in the sky, how they could potentially be trapped here the entire night with few supplies.

There was no way she could fly him in this state.

Gritting her teeth, Zelda braced her feet on the ground, pulling him to sit up by his tunic and dragging him to lean against the wall so he could remain that way. Link’s head lolled with the movement, and she noticed with alarm that he looked beyond exhausted. How long had he been struggling to breathe? How much longer could he last? She’d heard nightmarish scenarios in the past, when he’d gotten particularly ill, warnings of how he had to rest, how working too hard to breathe could make one’s body give up altogether, and then nothing but forced air could save them.

Zelda dug through her pouch and then Link’s, desperate for anything that she could use. She herself was carrying a stamina fruit, and Link seemed have half of one in his pack—clear evidence that he’d been nibbling on one throughout the day in an effort to keep going.

She felt frustrated and terrified at the same time. Why would he run himself down like this? Why did he always run himself down like this?!

Her gut churned uncomfortably, guilt nibbling at the edges of her mind. You know why.

She shook her head. Then she pushed against Link, tapping his cheek. “Link. Dove, wake up. Please.”

She had no air potion to spare, but if she could just get him to wake up, she could at least feed him the last of the stamina fruit he’d been carrying. Hopefully it would help. Then perhaps she could investigate this place to find somewhere more suitable for him to rest. The sky glowed crimson, and she knew it was too late to leave this place.

Link groaned, bringing her some relief, though his breathing still sounded wretched. Sluggishly, his eyes fluttered open. There was hardly any recognition in them - he was exhausted.

Zelda held the stamina fruit out in front of him, having peeled it into smaller pieces. “Eat.”

He took each piece one by one from her, chewing slowly. A flush returned to his pale face, and he stared at her for what felt like half a minute before seeming to come to himself. “Z-Zel…?”

He could hardly get her nickname out for all the rattling in his lungs. Zelda could hardly breathe just listening to it. “We need to get you out of here, Link. Get you somewhere warmer.”

Was there even anywhere warmer on this island? Was there an indoor area at all? The place looked strangely familiar, but she couldn’t place why - she’d definitely never been here before.

Oh. That meant… she knew why.

Looking around, she tried to recall something, anything of whatever memories Hylia had to show her. But try as she might, she couldn’t recall this place.

Perhaps exploring wasn’t the option right now. Perhaps they just needed to hunker down and deal with it where they were. But the more she thought about it, the more she was certain that she could find a centralized location, which would be far better shelter for Link in his state.

“You think you can glide with me?” She asked, raising her voice to be heard over the wind.

Link tried to reply and instead fell into a coughing fit. It was a wretched sound, heavy with phlegm but not able to move anywhere. He clutched his chest, grimacing a little, and nodded.

That was not reassuring. “Link. I can’t carry you, don’t lie to me if you can’t do it!”

Link swallowed, sitting up a little straighter, more energized after the stamina fruit. “I… I think I can. J-just… not for long.”

That meant she had to figure out the route first.

Zelda went to work quickly, hugging Link and whispering in his ear that she would be back. He slumped against her, letting himself rest in her arms, and it made her heart ache. She wanted to just stay and hold him, to protect him and let him find some relief in her, but she had to figure this out quickly, while there was just enough light left.

With another promise of coming back quickly, she pulled away, leaping into the air. The wind smacked against her, and she quickly pulled out her sailcloth to let it guide her around the walls of the labyrinth. She tried to go by instinct, remembering each turn, at one point rising above all of it to get an overhead view. Eventually, she found the central area, which promised some relief from the harsh winds. It wasn’t hard to retrace her path, and she quickly found Link once more.

Her beloved was asleep again, shoulders rising and falling with his breaths in an attempt to help air move as best it could. It was an ominous sign, and Zelda felt nauseous at the sight of it. She nudged him awake, gave him half of the stamina fruit she herself was carrying, and helped him stand.

Link was unnervingly shaky on his feet, but he again insisted he could handle it. She had him hold her hands to ensure his grip was tight enough to hold the sailcloth and maneuver. Although he clamped down on her hands with enough strength to prove his point, she still worried.

There wasn’t much else she could do, though. She just kept assuring herself that if he slipped, she’d dive down below the maze with him and call her loftwing. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d caught him in midair (she tried not to guiltily think of the last time that happened).

Together, the pair stood at the edge of the platform and then Zelda counted down quickly so Link wouldn’t lose what little strength the stamina fruit had given him. Her heart nearly stopped when they jumped together, eyes never leaving Link, but he managed to hold on as his sailcloth rode the winds around them. Zelda had to lead at that point, but her head felt like it was constantly swiveling to keep track of her friend while they moved through the air.

The journey back to the center felt infinitely longer this time around, but they made it nonetheless. Link’s knees completely buckled when he landed, and though he tried to wrap himself in the sailcloth Zelda had gifted him so he wouldn’t lose it in the wind, but it slipped through his slack fingers as he felt. Zelda caught it as nearly an afterthought as she rushed to help him to the ground.

She pulled Link to her, letting him sit up against her chest so he could breathe better. “Link, what were you thinking coming out here when you were sick?”

Link’s breath rattled in reply as he grew limp with exhaustion. Zelda just buried her face in his shoulder, feeling his head loll against hers.

This was going to be a long night.

Zelda prayed to Farore for help as she counted Link’s breaths. Time crawled by, agonizing in its length as Link’s entire body heaved. As the sky grew black, and the stars twinkled in their excellent fervor, her beloved’s breathing eased a little, having recovered from flying. However, he coughed often, in harsh, horrible fits that hardly moved what it should, and those left him completely depleted. Zelda would rock back and forth, taking him with her, strengthening her back so he could sit against her as tall as possible, watching his ribs become more prominent as the night progressed.

Just when it felt like this nightmare could never end, the stars started to hide behind a shroud of pale pink, and Zelda thanked all three of the ancient goddesses that they’d survived the night.

The instant she determined it was light enough, she leapt over the nearest edge and called her loftwing. When she flew over the maze, she saw Link’s crimson companion circling the area, trilling worriedly. She wondered if he’d been there the entire night - she hadn’t heard him. She probably should have looked, but she was too terrified to think straight. In either case, she whistled sharply at him.

Link’s loftwing eyed her. Zelda whistled again. No loftwing was obligated to listen to someone who wasn’t it’s bonded partner, but Zelda and Link were close enough now that their birds would occasionally tolerate commands from each other, and Link’s intelligent friend could tell he needed help. Crimson followed Zelda and Indigo as they dove towards the center. It hardly had enough space for a loftwing, but Crimson spotted Link and maneuvered easily into place, swooping in and grabbing him with frightening precision.

Zelda hoped the position wouldn’t make Link’s breathing intolerable. But they didn’t have any other option.

The pair flew back to Skyloft at breakneck speed - the other settlements didn’t have the same medical care that Skyloft did. Zelda rushed to Link when his loftwing gently placed him on the ground.

Her friend was awake, cheeks flushed, hair a mess, and he clutched his chest. Zelda slid to her knees beside him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had… better flights…” he huffed with a tired smirk.

Zelda wanted to punch him. “This isn’t the time for joking! What were you thinking yesterday?!”

“I… didn’t think… it was…” Link tried to argue only to have to pause to catch his breath, bracing his hands against his legs and leaning forward a little.

Zelda’s worries overrode her frustration, and she waved down the first person she saw, as many had noticed their arrival. Pipit and Groose both came running, as well as Professor Owlan. Thankfully Pipit had an air potion, and the relief on Link’s face was immediately apparent.

Zelda let the men take Link back to his room in the academy, giving them a moment before she checked on him. She found him sitting up against multiple donated pillows, two air potions at his bedside table, bundled up and in comfortable clothes. She smiled in relief, feeling her own chest steadily unclench at the sight.

She offered a quick thanks to Farore before kneeling on the floor and resting her arms and head on the bed. She was exhausted.

She felt Link’s fingers run through her hair before he settled his hand over the back of her head. “Zel…?”

Zelda reached blindly, fingers finding Link’s tunic before she jabbed his chest with her finger. “Don’t. Do that. Again.”

Link let out a sheepish huff. “Sorry, love.”

“This isn’t—your journey is over, and—Link, why—” Zelda shot yo, suddenly agitated, tears stinging in her eyes.

Link looked adequately schooled and apologetic, clearly upset that he’d worried her. “Zelda, I… I’m sorry. I just… I’m used to… to pushing through it. I don’t notice sometimes.”

Used to pushing through it. Zelda felt guilt crush her. She knew why he was used to it.

“Please rest,” Link requested softly. “I’ll be right here. I promise.”

Zelda sighed, reaching over to stroke his cheek. “Only if you rest too.”

Link nodded, offering a tired smile. Zelda wasn’t inclined to kiss him since he was sick, but she gently hugged him instead.

She still worried this would happen again, though.

#writing #skyward sword #legend of zelda #skyward sword link #ss link #skyward sword zelda #ss zelda #zelink #Wow this one got so much longer than I expected lol #HOW DID THIS TAKE ME THREE DAYS TO WRITE. WHY.#Whatever it turned out ok #Sky with a crappy immune system #They’d all get so sick on the surface honestly #But Link’s more inclined to get respiratory illnesses than others

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queenlionnescastle · 1 month

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Inspired by that one post about making dark shows into a just a bunch of kids, i present to you: Batman pretend AU :D

Bruce isn’t a billionaire, but he’s a reasonably wealthy criminal defense attorney living in Gotham. A bit after he adopted Dick, his own adoptive dad (Alfred) moved in to Bruce’s apartment so that Dick had someone to watch him while Bruce was at work. Dick’s favorite game to play was superhero, and in the evenings Bruce would run around with him as Batman and Robin!! :D Alfred didn’t like how much running the game entailed, so Dick made him Batman’s butler :)

Occasionally, when Commissioner Gordon would come to Bruce’s apartment to discuss work stuffs, he would bring along his teen daughter. While Barbara was much older than Dick (let’s say he’s like 10), they had fun playing pretend together as Robin and Batgirl

When Bruce adopted Jason, Dick was like a tween and growing out of his love for Robin, so Bruce made a ceremony where Robin became an adult superhero and got a new persona! Nightwing was now an independent ally of Batman, and he passed down the mantle of Robin to Jason

Jason loved being Robin, but when Tim was later adopted he was extremely excited to get a ceremony like Dick! :> He got to be extra Dramatic™ and his character died, coming back to life as Red Hood~

At around 7 years old, Tim’s best friend Steph regularly visited the Wayne family and got her own persona, Spoiler, but she occasionally snatched the Robin cape from Tim >:]

When Bruce adopted Cass, the kids weren’t sure what to do with Robin, since Cass is older than Tim (and Jason too). But she didn’t want to be Robin, she wanted to be like Bruce, so she played as Black Bat :D

Bruce then fostered Duke (he’s hoping to later adopt him~), and Duke was thrilled to join in on superheroes! He already had his own persona, Signal, and he was the first to really think up superpowers

Around this time, Bruce was dating Talia and their relationship was strained at best. They split, but Bruce got primary custody of Damian! He’s just a wee bab rn, but Tim is worried about having to give up being Robin

Barbara still visits even after she doesn’t have to come along with her dad, and it’s a nice change of pace from her new work at the Gotham Public Library. Since she was paralyzed a couple years ago in an accident, she plays Oracle to give the kids missions and facilitate their stories. She loves to watch them play and chat with Alfred :)

At this point, Dick is like 16 and isn’t really into it anymore, but he feels responsible for his younger siblings and makes sure the 11 year olds (Jason and Cass) and the 7/8 year olds (Tim and Duke, and Steph when she’s there) play nice together. Usually he keeps two year old Damian entertained and away from sharp things :>

And recently, Bruce and Selina have begun to date, but they wanted to keep it a secret from the kids at first. Bruce would invite her over after the kids were asleep, and if they heard anything he would pretend he didn’t know what they were talking about. ~However~ this lead to the kids thinking a cat burglar was robbing their house at night, so Bruce quickly introduced Selina to them (Bruce had told her so much about them already so she was ecstatic, she had only met sleeping baby Damian beforehand). Her being a cat burglar became a running joke, so when the kids got her to play with them, she became Catwoman :)

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huntingrays · 1 month

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Leo and Jason had been friends for ages. They had been childhood friends and grew up together.

Due to their closeness, Leo thought it was only natural that his thoughts around him strayed. He was so comfortable in his sexuality that he entertained funny thoughts about what it would be like to date his best friend. He specifically wondered what it would feel like to kiss him.

However, it wasn’t weird. They had such a close, unbreakable bond that he felt comfortable with the idea. They were both straight, so they’d never come to fruition, but they were amusing to think about. It was natural. Anyone would think about it if their best friend was as attractive and sweet as Jason.

Everyone thought that way. Right?

or, the five times Leo thinks it's normal to want to kiss his best friend, the one time he realizes it isn't, and the one time he gets kissed.

#pjo #leo valdez #jason grace #valgrace #yippee finished a fic!#idk how it got longer than i expected #love 5+1 fics sm they’re so good #this whole fic is like that ‘everyone feels that way’ tiktok sound lol #baby cat is the mvp in this whole fic #shes living her best life with her gay dads #good for her #also yes on my cat dad leo agenda again #he would love how much pesonality and sass cats can have #leo: dude everyone wants to kiss and date their best friend!#nico: i’m going to hold your hand when i tell you this…

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amee-racle-ofmyown · 2 months

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Hey, Amee!! I hope you’re doing well <3

If by any chance you’re up to it, could you please write a fic about Heist Mark being super jealous of Yancy because he and Y/N clearly seem to be into each other?? I LOVE your art and writings and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head <3 (Obviously no pressure, though!)

I'm so happy to hear you enjoy my work, thank you🥺💖 and thank you for your request! it got me out of a terrible writer's block. on that note, sorry this took quite some time, I've been in a bit of a funk of on and off general creative block, and unable to finish any writing at all for even longer. this was a pretty fun challenge! I myself view Yancy platonically so I wasn't quite sure where to go with this initially, and I had to fight every urge to just make this heist mark x y/n dfsjsjsv. that said, it did end up being more heist mark-centric than maybe you intended? in which case, I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself😔 yancy is there but very briefly haha

Don't you tell me that you never even thought, 'maybe we could run'

2,603 words | Read on AO3

‘We're all gonna be rehearsing tomorrow so youse best get some sleep.’

You nod as you close the gate to yours and Mark's shared cell, stifling a yawn.

‘Goodnight, Yancy.’

You hold each other's gaze for a moment, before he turns and heads off, a tattooed hand over the back of his neck and a sweet smile still on his face. You watch as he disappears into the outer hallway and a guard appears to lock up your cell for the evening.

Your long-time accomplice and friend stands at the edge of your vision, arms folded.

‘Having fun with your new boyfriend, buddy?’ he asks, sounding unimpressed and slightly strained.

‘Oh, shush, Mark,’ you chide, but your stomach flips at the notion.

‘Yeah… Well, while you were busy playing Broadway,’ he glances to either side of the cell outside and continues in a lowered voice, ‘I've been hard at work hatching our escape. And I'm telling you, it's foolproof.’

‘Uh huh. As foolproof as your other three failed plans? I really don't wanna get thrown in solitary again.’

‘Please, that was one time! — and I don't see you bothering to come up with any ideas. Even though you pretty much got us into this mess.’

That accusation ticks you off, but you're quick to retaliate.

‘Are you seriously still hung up on that? How is this my fault? You couldn't fly a helicopter, why would you assume I can? You shouldn't have even presented it as an option!’

Your exclamation earns you a couple looks from other inmates slowly filing into their cells for the night.

‘Nevermind that now,’ Mark says, infuriatingly placatingly, ‘do you wanna hear the plan or not?’

The thread of uncertainty that you've been avoiding coils tight in your chest and you pause, wondering how to bring up what's been nagging at you for days.

‘Um, so, I've been thinking. What if… what if we don't try to escape?’

‘Ha ha. Funny joke, pal.’

‘I'm serious, Mark. We could just… stay here and wait out our sentence, if we play it safe we might even get our time reduced on good behaviour. We could be gone in like a decade. Or a few years! Maybe. Probably. Maybe.’ Wishful thinking, perhaps.

He scoffs, as if the idea isn't even worth considering.

‘There is no way you're genuinely telling me to just wait it out. Maybe you haven't noticed since you've been in la-la land lately, but we're not on vacation, we're in prison,’ Mark spouts, voice growing thick with agitation. ‘What was supposed to be the heist of a lifetime, would've set us up for decades to come, is still on the line! And we're on a bit of a time crunch here — I don't trust that warden guy one bit with the Box, or in general,’ he sneers. ‘I mean what kind of name is Murder-Slaughter? Ugh, do we even know for sure if he still has it?’

‘Yancy mentioned seeing it in his office the last time he was there, which was earlier today, so yeah, probably.’

‘Ugh, there you go again about Yancy. It's always Yancy this, Yancy that, blah blah blah, Yancy!’

‘Wh– I was just answering your question!’

‘Y'know what? I'm sick and tired of being the only one taking this seriously while you act like it's all a big party.’

He places a hand on his hip, the other poking a finger towards you as he speaks. It would be comical, if he wasn't acting like a jerk.

‘What's up with you?’

‘What's up with me? What's up with you? You seriously wanna stay in this— this shithole, ‘cause of what? Some pretty face you've known for all of like, less than two weeks??’

‘Oh my God, Mark, it's not that terrible, and Yancy is actually my friend, he's been nothing but welcoming and kind since we got here, and—’

‘Oh, did you forget that he tried to beat you up when you first met? Real interesting, how you let that little detail slip.’

‘We just got off on the wrong foot, he's really—’

It's then that you see it — something in the slight hunch in his gait, the furrow of his brow, his pursed lips and tense jaw — and you wonder why you hadn't noticed before. It's not just anger and frustration, it's something bitter and personal.

‘Mark… are you jealous?’

Bingo. His eyes only widen a sliver, for a fraction of a second, but you're so used to reading him that even the most imperceptible of reactions on his usually very expressive face have become familiar to you.

‘Psh. I'm not jealous.’

‘You so are jealous! Oh my god, you're super duper jealous,’ you say with a grin, revelling in this new information.

‘Shut up, why would I be jealous?’ he protests, trying to sound nonchalant. But it's too late. You've already seen through it.

‘Is that what this is about?’ you say with a laugh. ‘You just want my attention back or something?’

He stares blankly for a moment.

‘Are you serious right now? You actually think the only reason I'm mad is because some random dude just waltzes in and starts acting all buddy buddy with you and you fall head-over-heels,’ he jeers with his hands either side of his face, fluttering his eyelashes mockingly. ‘Hook, line and sinker.’

‘Mark—’

‘I mean, never mind your partner, right? You know, your best friend who you've known and worked with for years? Who cares what he thinks?!’

‘Mark, I—’

‘In fact, he can get punched through a wall for all you care! You won't even bat an eye, as long as there's a random spontaneous musical number immediately afterwards, it's all in good fun!’

‘Ok, that's not fair,’ you push back. ‘Of course I was worried! But I was also surrounded by violent criminals at the time, we've been over this!’

‘Oh, so they're “violent criminals” now? But they're simply “hurt, misunderstood souls” when it suits you?!’ he shoots back, making air quotes to emphasise his point.

‘They're people, Mark! They're allowed to be… multi-faceted!’

‘Lights out, everybody,’ comes a guard's voice, ringing through the hallway as it suddenly becomes dark, save for the glow of dim lamplight emanating from one or two of the other cells.

‘Whatever, let's just get some sleep,’ Mark grumbles under his breath.

‘You always do this!’ you whisper harshly, but inadvertently let the volume slip back into your voice as you feel your blood boil. ‘You try to cut things off and act like the “bigger person” just to get out of an argument that, newsflash, YOU'RE LOSING.’

‘Oh, whatever, what-f*cking-ever!’

‘You're being so damn overdramatic, Mark! It's not like I'm trying to break up our team.’

‘Yeah, well– well maybe we should!’

You don't know why it jolts you like a gunshot when he says it, but it does. His words, the force and resentment behind them, pierce you to your core. It stops any quick-fire response you had at the ready in its tracks.

Regret immediately flashes across his face, but he quickly attempts to cover it with a steely, hardened gaze. ‘Clearly, we want different things. So maybe it's for the best.’

‘Hey!’ one of the guards calls out from across the hall. ‘Lights out means quiet, you two. Don't make us separate you into different cells.’

With a frustrated huff, you reluctantly traipse off to bed, yours being the lower half of the bunk while Mark settles above you.

It really is a rather decent bed. The mattress is nothing special, but comfortable, and the soft blanket is accompanied by an oddly luxurious, fluffy pillow. Definitely above what you'd expect is probably average prison standards. Frankly, you don't know what Mark's problem is with this place. It's honestly not half bad. As far as you expect jails go, it surely could be a lot worse.

You lay back and let your breathing even out, trying your best to allow some of the bubbling anger to die down. Eventually, you hear the guards leave.

Time passes, it could be minutes or hours; it's not like the passage of time has felt right at all to you since that last heist.

It's silent, save for the sound of your breaths and Mark's above you. You're still upset with him, but the sound of him breathing nearby has always been oddly comforting. The two of you have had plenty of close calls as a pair — even times when you had to patch each other up after jobs that went particularly badly. If you got injured on a heist, you couldn't simply call an ambulance or show up at a hospital in an emergency and risk having your whole operation blown. That was simply the nature of your line of work.

At the worst of times, as long as you could hear those steady, even breaths, you could tell yourself he would pull through, and things would be fine.

You idly watch the mattress above you, letting the rhythm of your friend's breathing become a gentle white noise, and think.

You think about that heist and the Box. Ancient, coveted, mysterious. Sitting atop its perch in the museum vault, in all its glory and allure, practically asking to be stolen. The gleam of the gem encrusted in its surface. You wonder if the prize held within would be worth all of this, if you managed to get it back.

You think about Yancy, a little rough and a little troubled and not seeing much point in trying to kick old habits; but fun and soft and sensitive and full of remorse. You think about the feeling of your hand in his when you practise a routine with him, how his whole face lights up when he's excited or falls when he's sad or pensive. You think about how he has made this penitentiary into a home, and these inmates into a family.

You think about Mark. Silly, stupid, steadfast Mark, snarky and thoughtful and loyal. Who isn't actually as dumb as he lets on. Who is resourceful and quick-thinking when a plan needs to be formed. Who makes bad puns and trusts you whole-heartedly, and who always lets you decide which course of action to take, no matter how much he disagrees, simply due to his unwavering faith in you. Mark, your co-worker, your friend, your partner in crime. Who is maybe a little enamoured with you, despite you trying to ignore it. Who you half-heartedly agreed to go on a date with, not having it in you to turn him down, nor prepared for the guilt that would be eating away at you now.

You think about one of the first things he told you when you landed yourselves at Happy Trails: About how he doesn't belong here, but maybe you do. What if he were to leave and you were to stay? The thought breaks your heart a little.

Then, a whisper from above into the quiet, gently interrupting your thoughts.

‘Hey, you still awake?’

‘...Yeah.’

You hear his voice, soft-spoken, but clear enough that you can hear the sincerity laced into it.

‘I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so worked up.’

‘Yeah, I'm sorry too,’ you reply, matching his volume.

‘And I didn't mean it,’ he says, and you think you hear the slightest tremble in the statement, almost as if he's fighting tears, and for a second you wish you could see his face, ‘what I said before, about uh, splitting up. I know I joke about that kind of thing all the time, and not coming back for you… But you know I don't really mean it, right?’

You've certainly had your doubts in the past, but those moments seem so far away now; footnotes in a slowly unfolding tale, stepping stones on the journey the pair of you have taken together as you worked your way from theft to theft to get to this point. As much as you'd butt heads over the years, you could always count on each other and you always stuck together.

‘Right?’

‘Yeah, I know…’

‘...And, alright, your lack of interest in breaking out aside, maybe I am kinda jealous.’

‘Ha! I knew it.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He sighs. ‘It's just… it took us a while to be like we are now and yet, you're suddenly so close to him when it hasn't even been that long, it just doesn't feel fair. I dunno, it's stupid.’

‘Nah, I get it. I'm sorry if I made you feel left behind.

‘And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel pressured into something you're actually just not all that into.’

You feel a bit of tension leave your chest as a small smile appears on your face. ‘I appreciate that.’

In some ways you're grateful for the small bed separating you and preventing you from being face to face. You think it makes this easier for both of you.

‘I don't want to lose you, y'know? I mean, we're supposed to be partners. Ride or die, remember?’

‘Oh, Mark… You know I still trust you with my life…’ You pause, considering your words. ‘For the first time in ages, things feel a little more complicated than just being about us.’

A beat, then you hear him inhale, and he says your name, foregoing any of his usual nicknames.

‘...Are you… happy here? Does he make you happy?’

‘There's things I miss about freedom, sure, but it's not so bad here. And let's face it, our crimes were probably gonna catch up to us eventually, one way or another, right? And Yancy…’ You let out the smallest huff of laughter, smiling to yourself once again. ‘You're right, it hasn't been very long… There's just something about him, I guess. I know he might be a little much at times but I enjoy being around him, and he honestly seems like he wants to make up for things he's done in the past by being here. Maybe nothing will come of this but even so, in a weird way, he kind of makes me want to do better?’

Mark breathes a good-natured huff of laughter as well, and the two of you take a moment to muse on the irony of that sentiment.

‘I just– I can't handle being stuck here,’ he finally says. ‘But you're right, nothing I've tried so far has worked, anyway.’

‘Y'know… Yancy knows all the ins and outs of this place. He could probably help us if we wanted it.’

‘Do you want it?’

Do you want to leave or stay? The real question beneath it all.

You're quiet again, and it feels as if every possibility is laid out before you, only obscured.

‘I don't know,’ you say eventually. ‘I need more time to think. I just don't want you to think I'm making a choice between you or him, there's so many other things I need to consider. That we need to consider.’

‘That's fair… Just don't take too long, ok? Not like we can pause or rewind time, haha.’

‘Right… In the meantime, could you at least try to get along with Yancy and the others? You might like them if you give them a chance.’

‘... Fine, I'll try,’ he acquiesces.

You raise a hand to your mouth to cover a yawn. A far more comfortable silence falls over the room, and you start to feel sleep overtake you.

‘... Hey, Mark?’

‘Yeah?’

‘We're still partners.’

If nothing else, you hope this will reassure him.

‘...Ok. Sweet dreams, partner.’

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stergeon · 5 months

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> OTHER: Contrive some sort of SCHEME.

Oh, yes, this is very exciting. You love a good SCHEME, and it is marvelous to get to concoct one so early in the day. This bodes very well for how the rest of your day will progress.

Now it is time to play your favorite game:

“What could possibly happen?”

This is a very fun game where you attempt to devise every single possible series of events that could occur in the course of enacting your SCHEME. You play all of these scenarios out to their logical end and then some in order to guarantee that your plan goes flawlessly and that you have accounted for any potential risks. As you know, you are very good at thinking, and knowing things keeps your heartbeat regular and makes you not nauseous, so this game is one of your favorite activities.

You open up your JOURNAL and begin to take notes on your SCHEME. Since you are pressed for time, you do not delve as deeply into the potential scenarios as you usually would; although this unnerves you, you believe you have drafted sufficient options as to determine several effective courses of action. You wager you can exploit FERDINAND'S weaknesses for TEA and PHYSICAL AFFECTION to make him see reason and agree to attend BREAKFAST with you, ensuring he vacates your QUARTERS in a timely manner.

#008 | << | <- | -> | JOURNAL | HOW TO PLAY | ALL POSTS

#fe3h #fe16 #cyoa #fire emblem #hpnd #sterge.pptx #ferdibert #hubert von vestra #ferdinand von aegir #fire emblem three houses #this one took A Lot longer than expected if you can believe it #me [stoned off my ass]: what if i made a game called What Could Possibly Happen where you list out everything that could possibly happen #me [an idiot]: that won't take a long time. i'm sure i could bang that out quick. this is a really good and funny idea.#me [four days of trying to make nested accordions later]: this sucks so much #i don't know what i thought this game would look like.#thus it's not really a game. i guess you can win (?)#whatever. it Should help inform your vote so i guess that's all that matters lol #every time i do one of these i say i'll scale it back on the next activity #and then when i go to do the next one #i say 'what could possibly happen'#dunce

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asaka-lucy-dr-rc · 4 months

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OwaMiki Short Manga (Mondo and Mikan preparing for their amusement park date.)

*This is a fan art of an owamiki post on Ultimate Ask Blog (@ultimateask):

----

When I saw the amusement park date post, I thought their outfits were very nice, but in my opinion, Mondo doesn't like to wear such completely simple outfits, and Mikan doesn't like to wear revealing outfits, so I thought it was so cute if it was the case that Chihiro and Taka advised Mondo to dress more like a gentleman, and Ibuki advised Mikan to dress more fashionably, and that's why they wore those outfits. 🤭💕

I mean, I think it would be super cute if Mondo dressed less decorated and more mature for Mikan and Mikan dressed a little more flashy but hot for Mondo! XD

(I know Mondo was wearing the same outfit when they kissed in front of the fountain, but I wanted the Ultimates to recommend their respective outfits. Sorry for the inaccurate timeline!) If you want to know how they got together, search for the #owamiki tag on Ultimate Ask Blog and check out their cute story! 💖

#my art #ultimate talent development plan #owamiki #mondo owada #mikan tsumiki #I started drawing it as soon as I saw the post #but it took me much longer than I expected because it was too hard to draw Mondo recognizable as Mondo with his hair down. lol.#Taka probably would have suggested Mondo close all the buttons on his shirt #but Mondo would have refused.#I think Mondo would like the white shirt itself #but would prefer something with dragons or demons on it #or a gold necklace around his neck.#But I think it's so cute if he didn't choose to dress like that because he thought it might scare Mikan.#I love to see them trying to change themselves for the sake of their beloved! <3

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85-rend · 7 months

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hi it’s me, the person who thinks completely normal thoughts about lethal company. Anyway if you have employee oc’s, what is there role in actual moon looting, and how do they treat eachother in the ship. Also do they have a fave piece of loot and least fave monster?

I have 4 employees, a whole crew, so this might get a bit long :)

Fifty-Six :

"Human" (absolutely not)

Ship captain! has the most experience of the whole crew (they've been here way longer than anyone else. longer than anyone could survive this job)

Maybe a little too happy about the job. takes it very seriously

Prefers to go alone hates taking equipment bc it takes up space they could use for something else

prides itself on efficiency . has everything down to a system

looks scary but they're actually pretty nice and soft (both figuratively and literally)

pretty secretive, mostly lying through omission . doesn't like to talk about themself

doesnt like to be seen without the suit and helmet on. it has to happen eventually but it hates it, raises too many questions. it can try to look more human but its not perfect.

has a tier list in its head of every single piece of scrap for deciding priority of what to take back to the ship. it has a second tier list for if it gets hungry

huge soft spot for cute things. likes rubber ducks and plushies and things like that . will make exceptions in it's efficiency and priorities to take them even if they're low worth

Feels like they need to be doing something with their hands constantly

really likes Zachary, they're very close. doesn't want anything to happen to it... will agree to go together with Zachary despite usually preferring to go alone

likes Elliot, she's alright, she works hard. thinks she's a bit too reckless and hard on herself

alright with Morgan. they don't entirely get along but it's not too bad so it's alright . he notices the weird looks Morgan gives him, no clue what that's about.

Zachary :

Masked picked up from Rend after it tried to hide in a ship and the autopilot left

got "hired" by The Company. it doesn't like this. but it doesn't have a choice

it promises promises PROMISES it won't infect its coworkers. but it wants to so bad. it wants to help them. but it won't.

TERRIFIED of The Company building. absolutely refuses to leave the ship there. Fifty let's this slide, it doesn't mind having to carry some extra scrap to the desk

absolutely refuses to wear the helmets, its uncomfortable and its worried it'll get scratched or something . its fine without it,if that was going to hurt them it would've a long time ago

needs to go with someone in the facilities, becomes very distressed if alone for too long

it'll take equipment if asked, but it often forgets to use things like walkie talkies. it also struggles using it (it has a hard time with the buttons and small things like keys are really hard for it to hold)

hates this job and wants to leave but its scared of what would happen

very touch starved and having no other maskeds around has been effecting it.. (if it does see other maskeds on the moons it'll follow them around instead of its crew)

it wants to be closer with the others, at least El and Morgan are cautious around it. they dont really trust it much

El trusts it more at least, if 56 cant go with it it'll usually goes with her instead (also because Morgan usually stays in the ship but if they do go in still Zachary will more likely go with Elliot)

Morgan doesn't trust it much, they've dealt with maskeds before

Fifty-Six on the other hand, Zachary REALLY likes him. he doesn't mind it being around and hes nice to it

Zachary is like the first of the crew to have seen 56 without his helmet after it found him with it like completely torn apart. it was really worried about him, scared it got hurt. 56 was alright though dont worry

Elliot :

ACTUALLY a human

mostly goes by El instead of Elliot

youngest of the crew, not much experience but good with a shovel

pretty confident going in the facility, will often lead or even go alone. but absolutely CANNOT deal with coil-heads or nutcrackers. all that confidence goes away when they have to

he has automatonophobia and scopophobia. terrible combination to have here if im being honest

helmet is slightly dented after she tried running from a thumper and slammed into a metal pipe (did get away from it, shes still alive obviously . but that did hurt)

his nose was like broken before, never healed the same so its kinda crooked (this was before being at The Company, probably from getting in a fight as a teenager)

he tends to be kind of hard on himself, very apologetic when he makes any sort of mistakes.

his hair feels like shit. its been like bleached to hell so its all brittle and shit

none of the crew have anything against El but they did agree that if anything happens shes dies first (they have not agreed on what "anything happens" or "dies" entails though)

respects 56 a lot, almost exclusively refers to it as 'captain' . nobody else really cares about that, its just El who does that

trusts Zachary more than Morgan does, still cautious because she knows what it can do but believes it that its not going to do that

El and Morgan are rlly cool with each other. she likes to listen to them talk about whatever, they know a lot about stuff and El thinks thats cool

Morgan :

also actually human

mostly does ship duty but does also go in the facility sometimes, pretty good at it.

also takes the job seriously, not as much as 56 though. just wants to be safe, make sure nobody gets killed

they were on a different crew before this one. it didn't end well..

very dry and kind of snippy, they do care though just arent good at showing it

they kinda rlly seem like an asshole but will open up to people sometimes it just takes a while

very interested in xenobiology, got the job to get to observe the moons wildlife more directly. theyre fine with doing the rest of it though

really good at dealing with the creatures because of that

despite not being the fighter of the group they have taken down nutcrackers before, El will not so they deal with that instead.

only one on the ship who actually has first aid training. usually is the one to have to deal with that. only ever seen Elliot and Zachary get hurt though, Fifty-Six is somehow always fine

very suspicious of Fifty-Six, knows something's up with him but doesn't say anything because they don't wanna start shit with whatever kind of alien beast it is

cautious as hell around Zachary, doesn't like to be alone with it. they've seen what maskeds do to people and they don't like it.

but they've never actually interacted with a masked for so long so it's.. an interesting experience at least. there's not much documented about them so this is the most they've gotten to know about maskeds

Elliot and Morgan are chill, Morgan will often talk to her about different things. she's a good listener.

#oc: fifty-six #oc: zachary #oc: elliot #oc: morgan #i haven't shown Elliot much yet and Morgan doesnt have a design finished yet #so that's why y'all havent rlly seen either of them yet but they are there #(Morgan was the guy i did not have a name for. they finally do now)#oc ask box #also this got way longer than i expected it too . oops lol #lc oc rambles

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