#my GOD i hope all the links in this post survived
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go places addenda
Earlier this week, I finished posting go places, a 28k fanfic about Rukia and Renji getting ready to go take their Academy entrance exams. I started this story in 2019. It sat in a hot mess amongst my WIPs, and nevertheless informed a lot of flashbacks and memories that show up in various parts of my The Heart is a Muscle series. I made reference to a number of these throughout the writing, which my beautiful beta reader @diademchiofthetripod said worked fine as “textual ruins”, but I thought someone out there might be interested in actually finding the cross-references.
Additionally, this story contained a lot of world-building, just *bags* of worldbuilding, much of which started life as, or was inspired by various Tumblr posts, and I wanted to link those, too. Some of them are mine, but many came from other wonderful, thoughtful people, or came from us riffing off each other’s ideas. I am always grateful to the community on this website, and I just wanted to give credit to all the goofin’ around over here that inspires and informs my writing.
[cut for spoilers and also length]
Chapter 1
Settings are deeply important to me, and I felt like if I was going to set this entire thing in District 70, it deserved a name. Shiotsuka, 塩塚, means “salt mound,” because I wanted to invoke the imagery of barriers, like a town that sees itself as the last bastion of civilization, despite the fact that there are ten more districts to the south, including the home our protagonists have just left. In some ways, they are correct, though: Shiotsuka has the last post office on the South Road, the last shinigami recruitment station. I think all the ends-in-zero districts try to associate themselves with the ten above rather than the ten below. I realize this sort of thing is important mostly to me, but it sets the tone of the story as Rukia struggles to hold on to what she knows and who she is against the overwhelming message to focus her eyes onward and upward.
Mr. Mochida has been part of this story from the beginning. In fact, the opening scene of the original version was from his POV. I think that if I had started the story fresh in 2023, he would have been a very different character, but he was already *there*, and it didn’t feel right to replace him, which turned out to be a very good decision, actually. The actual point of this note is that I named him back before I got really into custom, bespoke character names, so it is likely that his name came from the Wikipedia list of Japanese Olympic weightlifters or something like that. I honestly don’t remember. It is a fairly common Japanese surname and, written 持田, means “hold or have” and “rice field.” An ordinary name for an ordinary sort of guy.
The bit about watered-down soy sauce came out of this post where I was wondering why they even had 55-gallon oil drums in Inuzuri and @bleachbleachbleach came up with a nicer answer than mine (which was Squad 12 toxic waste, although I am still fond of @snurtle 's idea from the tags that Rukia and Renji have glow-in-the-dark bones)
Chapter 2
The main reason there are couriers in this story is very simple: I have been re-reading Naomi Novik’s Temeraire series, and I got obsessed with the couriers and wanted some couriers. I realize that there is already the Secret Remote Squad, which is the subdivision of the Onmitsukidou that wears those rectangular hats and delivers messages around town. You know, these guys:
I wanted something tonally different though--a set of shinigami that spend most of their time outside of the Seireitei. Their job is important, but they’re more independent and a bit casual, and I liked the idea of this being one of Renji and Rukia’s first exposures to a shinigami-on-the-job (versus most of the introductions Kubo likes to do, where a character gets a Hollow dramatically slain right in front of them).
In my years of reading Bleach fanfic, I have decided that I do not care for it when people use flash step to travel long distances. This is a personal opinion, please do as you like in your own fanfics, but I just don’t think flash step should work that way. For one thing, my impression is that it basically involves doing a spatial shift from one place to another, which would seem to carry a heavy risk of running into things (or people). Also, it seems like it should take a lot of energy. Also, there are some characters (Hanataro) who can’t use it, which seems like it would cause a lot of problems. That being said, flash step is allegedly a set of techniques within hohou (we just never learn what any of the other ones are). I had some fun making up some that are practical for long-distance, which was both fun and satisfying for me. Ryuupo is written 流歩, where the first character , which means "flow", is also used in the word for jet stream, and then the second character is the same one for “step” that’s used in “flash step.” Hayaashi, 速歩, means “brisk walk” but it’s also the word used for a horse’s trotting gait. I do not actually speak Japanese. I did my best.
Relatedly, I also liked the idea of Mr. Mochida teaching Rukia and Renji a lot of practical, but not flashy stuff, and in particular, things that take lots and lots and lots of practice, but have a great deal of payoff. Unlike some people, who try to teach a kid bankai in three days, he’s more of a “strong foundations” sort of guy. I hope it’s obvious (particularly you’ve read my later stories featuring Renji in sensei-mode) that Renji is imprinting on this guy like a baby duck.
The Seireitei Bulletin makes an appearance, in part because I wanted to make a vague reference to my headcanon that Tousen personally transformed it from a propaganda rag into…um…something more closely resembling a news outlet. I also wanted to drop some hint of some big doings in the city that the reader would recognize, but would, of course, be basically meaningless to Rukia. It is actually right around the time Byakuya became captain, but that was a little too…too. However, Gin also became captain around the same time and you know I never miss an opportunity to do a shout-out to Iba’s mom.
Rukia contemplating a life in the Onmitsukidou is partially a Between Tides joke, but it’s mostly a reference to a Hisana-joins-Squad 2-and-then-adopts-Rukia-herself AU that @alopexplasma and I improv’ed our way to in the comments of section of Call Me Back When the War is Over.
Watanabe Yuuto is one of my Inuzuri irregulars; he also featured in the story Renji tells Chad about Rukia vs. the Bees, which is the next-to-last scene of Chapter 5 of See You on the Other Side.
Renji tells the story about Rukia wrestling the tanuki (or badger) to Byakuya in Chapter 11 of Call Me Back When the War is Over. It’s the second scene down and can be read independently of the rest of the story. Towards the end of the same chapter, Rukia clarifies that it was a badger (definitely not a tanuki).
Chapter 3
Rukia’s bunny print yukata makes two appearances in Call Me Back, once in Chapter 12, proving that Renji was paying attention after all, and once in Chapter 13.
Here’s a six-part video series on how to make your own waraji. I did not know that waraji were for short-term use! That was the second most interesting thing I learned writing this fanfic! The shihakushou headcanon is one I have been working on for a long time and I’m glad that I finally worked it into a fanfic. I wrote out most of my thoughts on the topic here, and here’s the senkaimon transfer protocol post that originally got me thinking about it way back when.
I did a whole post on the “Black Dog of Rondanini” kidou Rukia is trying to read. Thanks to the Bleach wiki for the kanji version of the chant, which was very helpful in writing this part.
Obligatory link to the Renji breaks his arm story.
The poem Renji is trying to write out is the Iroha, a pangram that was used as a kana ordering system prior to 1890. I felt like it was the sort of thing a boy’s mother would make him copy out to practice his writing, analogous to the old "quick brown fox".
Chapter 4
(for realsies, tho, a lot of the dream sequence references this post I made about the symbolism of Sode no Shirayuki taking the form of a yuki-onna)
Chapter 5
I was trying to come up with a list of common items that an Edo era traveler might buy/take with them on a journey when I inadvertently came across the number one most interesting thing I learned while writing this fanfic.
The incident Rukia remembers about thinking Renji didn’t like her until the day she laughed at some sick burn he made is the same incident Renji mentions in Chapter 4 of a little in love, in which he thought she didn’t like him until the day she laughed at his sick burn. What a couple of idiots.
“Rukia even worked in a shop for a bit.” If this seems familiar, it’s because it’s from my unfinished Inuzuri story I Can’t Believe I Found You in that Town and I’m sure I’ve posted excerpts from it on Tumblr. It was a pawn shop. Her job was scamming people. She was very good at it.
Re: the 1000 kan budget Mr. M gives them: For reference, per Color Bleach+, an issue of the Monthly Seireitei Bulletin costs 380 kan. A cosplay Squad 4 nurse’s outfit costs 5,980. City inflation is wild.
“I like the signs they have here,” Rukia says, pointing up at one that shows a pipe with rings of smoke coming out of it. “You can tell what the shops have without having to go in.” I went down a real rabbit hole on Edo era kanbans (and yes, that’s the etymological origin of kanban boards used in agile project management). A lot of them relied on puns, and I read in one article that high-end city shops would make their signs rely on insider knowledge so that only their more sophisticated customers would recognize them, which is the most Seireitei-ass thing I have ever heard.
“I did some arm-breaking for a crooked apothecary for a while,” Renji admits. There were some more details on this in the Renji-breaks-his-arm story, and probably also the upcoming chapter of Heart is a Muscle. If it feels like Renji mentions about six thousand different jobs he had in Inuzuri, I did that on purpose, because I wanted him to feel like a guy who was always on the grind. Most of the jobs were extremely short-lived.
Chapter 6
“I know about wheels!” Renji volunteers. “For a while, I worked at a place that took old carts and swapped their wheels around to make them look different and then sold them again.” Inuzuri is the chop shop capital of Soul Society
“We met a shinigami once, in Inuzuri. We both got real hungry, just from being around them.” I realize that everyone has not watched episode 32 of the Bleach anime 100,000 times, but this happened in episode 32 of the Bleach anime. There’s a screenshot of them in the post above.
Chapter 7 Mr. Mochida’s home district is Zanshien (残紫苑) Lingering Aster. Aster means “remembrance” in hanakotoba. Sometimes I am not subtle.
“There was a girl. That’s a complete story in itself.” Man, you know how I feel about lines like that.
Kaho, written 馨朋, means “sweet-smelling friend” because I was still on my flower bullshit.
Renji clenches one fist. “Our friendship can take this, Rukia. It’s like the book I’ve been reading on bodyweight exercises. The way you build muscle is by tearing the fibers apart, and then more muscle grows in to repair the tears, and that’s how you get stronger.” A lot of times, I have regrets about the name The Heart is a Muscle, but then I write crap like this.
The tapping also shows up in Between Tides.
“when sparrows begin building their nests” is one of Japan’s 72 poetic microseasons. The Japanese school year has begun in April since 1886, so I assume that's when the Shin'ou term starts, as well. I figured the Rukongai kids would try out shortly before then, so that they can just stay if they get in. The idea of official communications from the Seireitei being conducted in the most arcane ways possible was done with love for @bleachbleachbleach
One of the first things I did when I picked up this fanfic again earlier this year was try to calculate how long it would actually take to walk from the Inuzuri to the Seireitei. I have all kinds of notes based on the stuff Yoruichi tells the Karakura kids about how long it takes to walk around the Seireitei, the diameters of Tokyo and NYC, amounts of time I felt would be practical, etc, etc, and in the end, I just used some numbers that felt right in my heart. Time dilation in the deep Rukon is yet another headcanon I picked up from B3, but it’s also how I reconcile the various competing estimates of Rukia’s age. Do not try to follow Mr. Mochida and Hatori’s math, they’re probably using some silly “Thirty days hath September” calculation mnemonics. I think you can take my word for it that Rukia and Renji made it to their tests on time. For the record, they passed.
#my fanfic#i know this reads like the end notes to infinite jest and i'm sorry#actually the story summary was an homage to 60 minutes more or less with Madame Psychosis so maybe it's approp#i want everyone to know that Alopex noticed a good 80% of this and commented on it *before* i made this post#a true polynya superfan that i def don't deserve#my GOD i hope all the links in this post survived#i did them in html initially and Tumblr Did Not Like It#i guess 'addenda' is more accurate than 'errata'
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"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune
(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)
1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.
2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.
3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.
4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.
5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.
6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!
Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.
#tor books#booklr#new books#in the lives of puppets#tj klune#tbr#sff#science fiction#team robot#unreality#long post
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to live for the hope of it all ꨄ charles leclerc smau
charles leclerc x fem!reader
pic credits: pinterest
link to part 2 | link to part 3
this is my first time ever doing a smau so pls be kind!! i hope you enjoy, and my requests are open for both smau and regular fics if interested!! this ends on a bit of a bad note, so if you're interested in a part 2 please let me know :)
yourusername
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yourusername in honour of 22 years of friendship, and hopefully many more ♡
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username "of friendship" gurl enough
username do they think we're oblivious...
charles_leclerc can't wait to reminisce when we're old and grey 💗
yourusername the retirement home won't know what to do with us
username literally screaming crying n throwing up... just admit you've been together for years PLS
arthur_leclerc why don't i get posts like this... there are photos of you literally holding me as a baby?
yourusername i text you on our friendiversary every year?
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yourusername oh monaco... how i will miss you and the breakfast views
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username you're leaving monaco????
yourusername i was offered an opportunity i just couldn't pass up!
username this MUST be why her and charles' friendship blew up... she's been one of the most consistent things in his life for 22 years he prolly doesnt know how to react
username so he made her leave the paddock in tears over it the other day?? lol
mercedesamgf1 our croissants may not be as luxurious but we promise you won't regret it for a second
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc everything has changed but monaco will always be ours
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username girl this is so y/n coded
username god pls just kiss and makeup i cant survive with mom and dad not at least being friends
username it actually makes me so sad to not see yourusername in his likes... like 22 years of friendship and things are just gone?
username friendships end all the time... but we don't even know what happened people need to stop speculating
arthur_leclerc yeah we all know who to blame
username 👀 spill the tea
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yourusername everything has changed... and for the better. can't wait to begin this new journey of my life, even if i do have to get used to all the rain in england :(
username girl WHAT is going on
username can these two stop subposting each other and make up like second-hand embarrassment girl
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mickschumacher please only post my good angles
yourusername mick you don't even have a bad angle get out of here
username omg do we think she's the new mercedes admin?? there was that posting a few weeks ago for a manager of media relations or w/e??
yourusername has posted a story
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yourusername has unfollowed charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc has unfollowed yourusername
#charles leclerc x reader#f1 x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc smau#f1 smau#smau#formula 1 x reader#cl16 x reader#cl16#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#writing#f1 one shot#f1 social media au
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Double edit: actually, that's enough of that.
Edit: I was expecting maybe thirty notes tops. This is a surprise, and one that doesn't delight me. If I hear about any harassment stemming from this post, I'll be more pissed at the harasser than the person this is about.
God. Dammit.
I hate this, let's just out that out there! I'm unhappy that I'm talking about any of this, I'm unhappy there's an issue that's come up at the intersection of media preservation, respecting authors, and one of my favorite book series. And I'm unhappy that I've censored the names in the screenshots I'm about ti post! I'm not happy that I'm helping to slide consequences away from someone who thought this was an acceptable thing to do to a modern working author. But I'm even less happy this is something that happened in the first place, and I'm VERY unhappy the original post has been deleted without a whisper of accountability or apology.
And here's a partial screenshot of the IA page, which has since been removed. I get the excitement to share something you love with a new audience. This isn't the right way to go about it.
First, if Martha Wells' patreon is still in place, I encourage everyone in the strongest possible terms to go sign up for it. It'll charge you one dollar. I've been a member since probably 2018, and I mistakenly believed it was locked to new members (it's labeled 'Currently Closed To New Patrons') until I had reason to look it up last night, when I tripped across this reddit post from earlier this year.
Now. I was looking it up because of this sudden patreon message:
Even if the patreon goes away, I still recommend that people sign up. Explore the stories! They're very fun! Even though the patreon has been dormant for years, I've loved having that repository in place.
In fact, in the interest of full disclosure, what kept me from immediately reblogging last night is that I've felt the same archival urges! I bound a hard copy of these stories earlier this year, and let me quote my own words from that post:
I live in a state of perpetual low key stress over the impermanence of digital media and that goes extra for sites that aren’t designed to work well as archives. I hope, desperately, that someday Martha Wells publishes more raksura, maybe even including these stories! I will buy it immediately. No thoughts, wallet empty. I own all her other raksura books in literally three formats, fingers crossed that by printing this, I can actualize a formal official printing of these stories by the author 😂
So. Archiving, yes. But especially with a living, working author, I would never DREAM of posting a public free-for-all with IA and mediafire links. My most charitable interpretation is that OP thought it was fine since the stories were "free," even though the writeups acknowledge that access costs a dollar. Ao3 is also free. Reposting someone else's fic is still understood to be a dick move.
Last night i was left kind of stunned, and I was hoping to see some kind of response from op this morning taking responsibility, and was... disappointed to see that the post was just deleted. The IA listing was deleted too, and I hadn't actually looked up the mediafire post yet but I'm guessing it's also been nuked. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was anything more in the comments, so I found a surviving reblog. And there was!
So I'm writing this post because I'm... frustrated. Taking down the files is a good step. Posting them publicly was a worse step, but hey. I still more than understand if Martha Wells still deletes her patreon. I don't understand what sending her files of her own stories is meant to accomplish, but whatever. Ascribing a profit-driven motive is driving me up a wall, though. She's financially stable. I read her email, and what i see is frustration that even though it only cost a dollar to access 62k of her work through her own chosen location, control of her writing is being forcibly removed from her. I'm sure that seeing copies sold by third parties wouldn't help, but I don't think that's the root issue.
This is a fandom-heavy website, I'm sure most of us have seen posts about not reposting art when you can share directly from the artist's blog. I've seen posts about stop copying your ao3 faves over to wattpad just because you like reading there better. At a fundamental level, I read the message from Martha Wells as a deep frustration at having no way to share her creative work without someone removing control of it from her hands. And I don't know if there's any way to really take back that damage.
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Miscellaneous Cryptid au lore bits that are too short/too specific to make it into individual posts!
If you want more information about any of these, feel free to ask! I’m always willing to ramble about my Little Guys haha!
(In no particular order)
• Sky’s wings are too big to fit through doors. He will 100% for sure run into people in a crowded street. Because of this, he stays behind when the others go to villages. This gets incredibly lonely for our friendly little bird boy so eventually it’s decided that someone has to stay with him. This leads to one on one bonding between Sky and everyone in the Chain! (Except Time)
• Four can control water, earth, fire, and air, but not particularly well. Jack of all trades is a master of none. That being said, each individual color is a master of their element, so when separated, they are a FORCE to be reconned with. Their diminished power as a whole is a huge source of frustration for them, but I can’t let them be too powerful.
• After the their adventure is over, Time lives out the rest of what would have been his mortal life with Malon, then he takes care of his children, and his children’s children. But eventually he’s just… lived too long. His humanity falls away and he becomes more and more of a God and stops interacting with mortals almost entirely. Except when the other Links are born in their own eras, Time looks after them Father Time style and if they fall, he rewinds to before they were injured (their last “save point”) and pushes them to a better path. (Game over. Continue?)
• Even if someone is born with the blood of a God, their powers need to be awakened. This usually happens in a moment of desperation. For example, during Time’s adventures, he meddled with the flow of time so much that it became his dominion. Twilight’s powers awakened when he was like two years old. His parents had been killed by monsters- monsters that were now looking for him. And in his desperation, he looked to a squirrel in the tree above and he copied it. The monsters lost track of him, ignoring the animals of the forest. Time was gifted, well… time… because against a falling moon, it was his last hope. Twilight was gifted shape shifting because he had no other chance of survival.
^ Hylia doesn’t count because she was one of the original Goddesses. Many of the Zeldas, while they do possess the blood of the Goddess, have not had their awakening. Yet.
• Warriors will sometimes blurt out random sets of data without being prompted. He’ll ask to run calculations on things that no one has ever asked him to. And while the others might find this confusing, it’s his way of expressing his interests. Of learning more about the things that he likes, of telling people about the things that he likes. This happens rarely, but when it does, Sky drops EVERYTHING to talk with him, so excited to see him opening up.
• The Legend of the Godkiller is a very idealized and not very accurate retelling of Sky’s final battle against Demise. It paints him as a very confident, willing knight of the Goddess. Full of righteous anger and absolutely thrumming with power. In the story that Time knows, Sky wasn’t even scared. He knew he was capable of killing Demise, and he wasn’t even surprised when he was cursed. This is… far from the truth.
• Yeah, Time knows about Sky’s curse. But what’s he gonna do? Confront him about it? Tell the others? And risk drawing the wrath of the Godkiller? Absolutely not.
• Wild is more sentient than he lets on. He understands more than the others might think. He’s a little chaos gremlin who gets so easily distracted and acts more like a wild animal than a person, but he’s very smart. He couldn’t do long division but he can tell that… something’s not right with Sky and the Master Sword. The others haven’t caught on yet.
• Wild KNOWS THINGS. That he SHOULDN’T.
• Hyrule is so incredibly timid by nature. He’s used to being hunted: first as a fairy, sought for his healing magic, and then because of his blood curse, sought by monsters to bring about the revival of Ganon. Because of this, he’s incredibly shy. Until one of his companions gets hurt!! Then he’s ALL BUSINESS and he speaks with the authority that one might expect from a fairy so powerful.
• Speaking of that! At first, no one knew he was a fairy! He was afraid that they’d bottle him (they had other bottled fairies in their pouches when he’d first met the others, so it was justified). He kept up his glamour until he physically couldn’t anymore. The others knew he was a magic user- he tended to fight less with a sword and more with his spells and had an affinity for healing, but they didn’t know JUST how powerful he was until his glamour fell apart.
• Hyrule’s glamour can change the way that people see things, but it cannot change the physical shape of something. (Except himself, because his body is mostly magic anyway). For example, he could hide Four’s horns, but if you were to touch the top of Four’s head, you’d still feel them! He can make Wild look like a Hylian, but that doesn’t make their antennae go away. This is why Sky can’t go into towns: his wings may be invisible, but they’re still there, they can still feel pain and can still bump into people and walls. So… he can’t fit, unfortunately.
• The best swimmer (aside from Legend, Ravio, and Wind) is Sky. Which is weird, right? One might think that those massive wings would slow him down. But he has the Water Dragon’s Scale! Everyone’s so surprised when he starts racing people and WINNING. When he jumps out of the water in a spiral spin. Legend can call him a cheater all he wants, but he’ll be a hypocrite for it. He can’t say anything about using magic items to bolster abilities.
• Legend and Wind go from enemies to best friends in the course of like a month. They bond over a war and the ocean, and their connection is strengthened by the conflict that they’re both familiar with. Honestly a big reason that Legend warms up to Wind is that Ravio is fond of him. Also it’s actually impossible to hate Wind. Also he went to Outset that one time and was ablel to better understand Wind’s perspective.
• Wind dies a little bit inside every time Aryll or his grandma call themselves a Sea Monster. But he doesn’t have the heart to correct them.
• Ravio was never really afraid of Wind himself. More so… afraid of the monster that he had the potential to be (Ku). When Wind was never corrupted, Ravio had no reason to hate him! So they became friends during the War of Eras.
• Ravio joins the Chain very late. But we love him anyway.
• Twilight has little nicknames for everyone. If he calls them by their actual name/their title, they’re in trouble.
• Four only splits around Sky, Warriors, Hyrule and Twilight at first. Actually, the first person they split in front of was Sky but that was an accident. Once they determine that it’s safe, they start doing it around the others… slowly but surely…
• Post God Reveal, Legend and Four join Sky in the “distrust Time” corner
• Time wields Wars’ sword because Wars has deemed him the most powerful. Because of this, Warriors will go with Time when their adventure comes to an end. (This way, neither of them have to face eternity alone).
• I know I made a whole big long post about what happens to Mer if they don’t soak, but I neglected to say that all that will happen to Aquili too, just to a lesser extent. Wind needs to soak as well, just not as often as Legend and Ravio do.
• Mer cannot assume their natural form if they have anything on their legs/feet where their tail would go. Ravio’s… not wearing anything under his robes. And Legend… isn’t wearing anything under his skirt. Being barefoot definitely isn’t ideal but it’s better than the alternative: being unable to soak and drying out. Now, they could simply remove their shoes/pants, but they’re traveling and often in battle and they don’t always have the time to shed their clothes. If they need to jump into the water? They jump into the water.
• During Legend’s adventures, him being Mer was a secret. (The Zora were already antagonistic- imagine what they’d do if they knew he was a war mongering Mer!) This is why he needed flippers or a magic item to be able to swim- something on his feet or something magically imbued to keep him from transforming.
• For Sky, Link and Aepon are generally completely fused, but there are certain events that can force an imbalance between their influence over him. For example, if he’s hurt and takes a heart potion for healing, the body is healed, his Link half is healed, but is Aepon half is still weakened. The others might notice that he acts differently after taking a potion and he just seems very… unwell. Distressed, panicked. But also, he has both Aepon dreams and Link dreams. And depending on their frequency and severity, they can affect how he acts when he wakes, at least until both halves are sufficiently awake.
• When Sky’s Aepon half is more dominant, he is actually legitimately a bird. He doesn’t speak, he just chirps and squawks and trills like a bird. He looses all sense of personal space. And he’ll LOOSE IT if his feathers are touched.
• Sky can’t see well at night but he has a much greater endurance for looking at bright things.
• Hyrule hangs out around Sky as much as he can because Sky can’t take heart potions and also his bones are literally hollow and can break a lot easier than the others’
• Hyrule is a GIFT to this world and I don’t draw him enough.
I have a LOT MORE to say about these guys but this is just off the top of my head right now. Also I don’t want to spoil story elements! But let me know if you have any questions or want more context! I have short stories written about like half of these.

#the legend of zelda#chain as cryptids au#cryptid lore#cryptid ravio#cryptid twilight#cryptid wind#cryptid warriors#cryptid sky#cryptid time#cryptid wild#cryptid four#cryptid legend#links meet au
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Hello everyone 🍉
thank God we were displaced yesterday from the eastern area of Deir al-Balah. For those who do not know, this is an eastern area into which the army recently penetrated. We survived, thank God, and were displaced for the seventh time, but unfortunately the place where we were displaced does not have internet at all, and it takes no less than 2 minutes to walk on foot. Kilo in order to connect to the Internet and post a post, so I ask everyone to help me participate, and if I can publish as well, knowing that there is not much left for my campaign, there is less than 1,200 € left for the campaign to be completed. Thank you all, I will put the PayPal link as well, as you know the high prices, neither the jobs nor the salaries. There is no hard work, so we rely on the help you provide on PayPal to buy food and wood to cook on the fire and bring life’s resistance. I will put the links and thank you to everyone, my brothers. I hope for your support and participation.
#free gaza#free palestine#palestine#free skatrs#gaza#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#donations#rafah
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What are your favorite billy boy fics (im desperate okay, I've combed so throughly through the billy tag I somehow ended up in sonic the hedgehog and Tails fics)
Honestly, they should really warn people about the Billy Batson to Sonic pipeline.
I'm actually honored you're asking me so let me compile this list together real fast. Links were deciding to fight me so apologies for not having links.
Marvelous by Gage39
If what you're looking for is some team bonding with a couple hints of angsty misunderstandings, this is your story. I don't remember a whole lot of details since it's been a while, but all and all great fic that I'm probably gonna reread after I post this.
No Sense by IAmStoryTeller
An excellent team bonding fic between Billy and Damian who are forced to get along in an unknown world to ensure their survival. I don't have as much to say about this fic but I still love it nonetheless.
No One is Going to Believe You and Statute of Limitations by Oka_Hills1232
These two can be read together or separate. They're just silly fics of Billy using his age to mess with everyone around him but I still really enjoy them.
Frozen Peas by RoseGauymede95
This fic hits you with the feels as it goes into the dynamics formed between the two movies. It shows how much a family can care for one another, especially when they all have trauma.
pyrrhic victory by Zannolin
My all time favorite Fury of the Gods fic. The last scene of that movie tore me apart and this fic did it even more beautifully. Can you tell I'm a sucker for angst yet?
Is Captain Marvel a Cat? by AHudde (orphan account)
Another funny fic that explores Billy's character and how he presents as Captain Marvel. Nothing much to say other than I enjoyed it.
we have nothing to fear but ourselves by suzukiblu
New fic that's currently going but so far it's hit all my bases for a Dad Marvel fic. Honestly there aren't enough Dad Marvel fics. Again, not much for me to say due to how new it is and the fact it only has one chapter so far.
These are just some fics from my bookmarks. I hope some of these are ones you haven't read before. I honestly love fics by @wolfsbanesparks but I didn't list any because I feel like if you're asking me on Tumblr about Billy Batson, you've probably seen a lot of their stuff through their posts. And if you haven't then there's their at.
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Dead Pasts and Dread Futures
by youworeblue
This is my Dragon Age series following Inquisitor Ixchel Lavellan and her battle to find hope for herself, and hope for Thedas.
As the world ends, Ixchel is resurrected under mysterious circumstances and is sent back in time to the Conclave. Ixchel is furious, convinced of her own futility, and yet she cannot give up again. These are the stories of how she gets better.
More info here and on AO3.
Below the cut: the symbolism, and the cover on my Kindle, and in the Archivist bot.
Symbolism:
I previously made some "tarot" cards for Ixchel. In them I feature a motif of eyes/eye shaped leaves, and the number 7. These represent the Old Gods/Evanuris that threaten Thedas.
Kindle e-book Cover:
The cempasúchil are Ixchel's Ardent Blossom later in the fic. They have layers and layers of meaning for her and her story, beyond her being Mexican. In my headcanons, an ancient tradition passed down from Elvhenan, a noble would give their Champion a crown of flowers, an “ardent blossom” of their own, to honor the promise and dedication their Champion gives to them. In Elvhenan, marigolds play a big role in bonding ceremonies of all kinds, symbolizing a promise that will last through an end–whether that end be the end of a corporeal form through death, or through voluntary uthenera, or some other pre-agreed upon ending of a partnership.
Gingko leaves (bottom orb) come to symbolize hope in the story, and remembrance. She teaches Solas and those around her how to take lessons from the past to build a better future, with the world they're given; in turn, her companions give her the strength to survive anything and to see that future come to pass.
I made this specifically to be a cover on my Kindle, where I've started downloading fics! I used calibre and this tutorial (view on desktop) to edit the metadata for the epub and add the cover to my Kindle. It's a little hard to see in the picture but the values turned out really well and legible IMO!
Archivist Bot Embeds:
Also, the Archivist discord bot automatically sweeps the first chapter of your fic and uses any art in it as a thumbnail for its informational embed when you post an AO3 link. Immensely satisfying :)
#dragon age fanfic#dragon age#dragon age inquisition#dragon age fanart#lavellan#inquisitor lavellan#dragon age oc#my art#solas#solavellan#dread wolf#i'm so proud of this!#i've really upgraded and leveled up my art so much in the last year
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Light and dark mode side by side
The line between the light and the dark is so thin. Now, I am that line? I never asked but here I am. They say to become a Guardian you must show devotion, bravery, sacrifice and... Death... It's funny how I don't remember me, the life I had before this. I was chosen, but why?
I remember when I thought the light was my only guide. The enemies I once sought to destroy have become my greatest allies... Friends. The force that destroyed me has given me hope... [Laughs] I never knew the universe was a comedian.
The light, the dark, the gardener, the winnower... So different yet so same. I was fool, blind, naive... I was led by my eyes and not my heart. I think I see now but I am blinder than I ever was. I stand here, troubled but joyed that this war may finally be over. I am no fool that wars can never end, but I would die knowing I ended one so the youth may live.
I am no defender of the light or fighter of the dark. I am a defender of Humanity. I am a Guardian forged in light, given a power to survive and took a power to protect. I am not division between paracausuality. I am just human who has forgotten the bitter taste of death. Now it grips me but I will not fear.
The coming days draw nearer but I will not quiver. I have dove into the Dark below, dinned with the House of Wolves, taken the Taken King, risen like the Iron Lords, been forsaken by my greatest allies, walked between the shadows, leaped beyond the light, killed the Witch Queen, watched my light fall and now I will stop the Final Shape. I was chosen to protect and I will even if I breath my last breath.
I shall Become Legend.
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This is the light version of the poster. Enjoy!! Link to the dark version. I am currently not selling this piece as a poster of any sort. Anyone who sells this to you is most likely a scam. Please beware!
I finally did it. I did my first ever fan-art for a video game and for Destiny.
The Final Shape Trailer came out a few days ago and I ran almost immediately out of my mind. I didn't start the game early but I always knew about it and now I'm here God willing, watching it's first saga come to an end.
Unfortunately, I wouldn't be among other guardians in this war. I really wanted to be but I currently can't until maybe later next year or if the game decides to be nice and go on sale during my next summer🤣. I can't be affording such right now so I might as well empower other guardians to fight for me. I'll be around Sol in the crucible or most likely Gambit helping however I can and with this poster art, I think I've done enough😂.
Destiny has come so far from when I first ever saw it. It's like watching a child grow. Ironically it's not even my favorite game but it has a special place in my heart. I don't want to rant anymore so I'll just cut to the chase. I wouldn't be posting any new art for some time... I'd be having exams soon. Well, that's all from me guys. I am extremely proud of myself and the game.
Eye's up guardians!
DARK
Deviantart | Pinterest
LIGHT
Deviantart | Pinterest
#destiny 2#destiny the game#destiny fanart#destiny art#digital illustration#artwork#artists on tumblr#digital art#digital painting#illustration
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SPOILER
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So...I just I just ended the first episode of Moonvale (and my thoughts on some point I already express it)....when I saw the screen glitching at the end and Alan bodycam's recording the backpack...I IMMEDIATELY knew it was Jake...
THANK YOU EVERBYTE FOR MAKING JAKE SURVIVE 💚💚💚💚💚
I have still some point I would like to talk with you... like what Charlie have to tell us?? Maybe he knows Jake?? Or Richy?? And I still have question form Duskwood... like I would like to know if Phil got discharged from prison?? Who gave Hannah our number and why??
And for the Everbyte dilemma...I really hope they would change the game purpose and restore the Duskwood idea's of the package for the all game
When I saw the first glitch, I was like "Wt-" and then the second glitch came and I immediately knew what is going to happen and my 'Wt' ended with "OH MY GOD!" I immediately started gasping and almost wanted to throw away my phone with excitement. Then it said "new message incoming" and the next second I saw Alan's cam and was a bit confused at first and then I was ready for everything.
At first I actually thought we're going to see Alan chasing Jake through the forest which would have been sooo cool as well but I loved how Everbyte decided to do it. It was seriously everything needed and wanted. 😩
I never thought they would make him die but still, always a little worry in the back of my head. But now I'm just a silly little happy fangirl and this ending have me so much motivation and I love it.
About the thing with Charlie, I link you this post here because I have already talked in much more detail and I certainly can not remember everything I said. And it would only be a repetition.
But I can say that I have absolutely no idea what this means. I have so many questions and theories in my head but somehow I don’t believe in most of them myself.
Just another really mean Everbyte thing to give us this grudge and then to say "Yes, see you later, we’ll talk about it again in the next episode" and then we have to wait and worry again. It really is torture!
And I’m pretty sure we’ll get things answered. As long as they have not forgotten this promise as well...
But no, I think the side story will definitely not be too short and we will have to deal with it in the next episodes and hopefully find out everything. I mean, Everbyte took good care of Duskwood, I hope they brought that to Moonvale.
Personally, I would much rather have a real premium version again, even if I’m sorry for those who can’t afford it. I don’t want to have such inequality and such an advantage but as we have noticed now it is still not so easy to get through the game without paying money. No one is happy about it, and makes it unfair either way.
While some can buy gems, others can’t, it’s simply unfair to everyone. And I also hope that Everbyte will change their mind and bring back a little more from Duskwood.
Everything that has happened is still a bit confusing to me and even if I'm calmer, the disappointment is still there. And I really hope they will give us some of the Duskwood vibe back.
Otherwise, I just hope that you also liked the story of Moonvale itself and that you had a really nice game experience besides of everything around it.
And of course, thank you a lot for sharing your opinion with me/us. I really enjoyed reading it and it's especially wonderful to see other people being happy about Jake as well. 🤭
Have a wonderful day/evening/night! 💚
#jihobixarmy#moonvale#moonvale thoughts#moonvale game#moonvale episode 1#moonvale episode 1 spoiler#moonvale spoiler#moonvale criticism#moonvale jake#duskwood side story#duskwood jake#hbj mv x dw answers#hbj mv answers#everbyte studio#everbyte game#everbyte moonvale#moonvale everbyte
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𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞
pairing: joel miller x tess servopoulos
genre: smut, romance, angst, hurt comfort, minors dni
word count: 9.4k
summary: To put it simply, Tess did not want to exist but did so anyway. She stared blankly at everyone and everything. Her mind and heart urged her to make the smart choices. She was quick to eliminate the possibilities that might cause her death. She assessed the weak links of the group. Stayed clear away from them.
Smart choices. She blamed that part of herself for wanting to approach the Millers.
Or alternatively, the story of how Joel and Tess met and how they came to be.
warnings: canon typical violence, suicidal thoughts, mention of past suicide attempt, grief, loneliness, mild spoilers for the HBO show/podcast, timeskips, joel has a bit of a pain kink, piv, marking, biting, hair pulling, dirty talking, oral sex (female receiving), blood, wound cleaning, mention of body hair, dissociating for both
a/n: yes I changed the title from "the seed" to "spitfire" due to a specific scene that wasn't yet written (or even an idea in my brain) when I posted the sneak peek. I've been in love with these two ever since I watched the gameplay and my love only grew with the show. writing this was definitely out of my comfort zone but I enjoyed it and hope you guys will enjoy reading it 💜
Tess was alone. Her loneliness burned through her skin, hallowed out her eyes, and drew deep lines across her face. She was so very tired. Every muscle ached. Even her heart. She didn’t want to cry about it. Early on she figured that the wetness of her eyes meant nothing to this new world. It didn’t gather sympathy. Only made her into a mark. Once she saw her reflection in the water. Before she was made a part of the group. It made her feel sick to her core. Everything was just so meaningless. It didn’t suit her to show that weakness. It wasn’t worth the strain on the muscles of her face or the ache in her heart.
The group found her. There was an issue if she was worth it or not, but thank god for her wits and unyielding tongue, she was made part of it quite quickly. They were heading to Boston.
She didn’t bother with learning their names. They all did despicable things in the name of survival. Horrid things. Things that gave her nightmares and forced her eyes to open at night. She would wake up drenched in sweat, her heart racing as she looked up at the stars. The stars she remembered gazing upon with her family. A husband. A son. All gone. She closed her eyes in a weak attempt to shut down her mind. But of course that didn’t work. It never did. In fact, she was quite sure it did the opposite. Memories would come rushing back. The moment she held him for the first time in her shaking arms. The moment she left him locked inside his room. Condemning him to live out the infection alone.
She could still hear the banging of the door sometimes.
A month later a pair of brothers joined them. Joel and Tommy Miller. Tommy did most of the talking, convincing them that they would be a helpful addition. The other one—the older one, Tess guessed, was not as keen. Clearly joining just to be near his brother. They were quick on the trigger which was enough for them to be included. Tess had no intention of befriending them. Or anyone else for that matter. But Joel. . . she could see some use that could come out of him. She could see a pain similar to hers. Something that ate him from the inside out. His gaze only softened when he thought no one could see, and only when he was staring at his brother. It would usually be something mundane. Either Tommy would be cleaning out his rifle or putting on his shoes. In those times Joel’s eyes became soft, dark grief blurring the lines of the color.
The group dwindled. Most of them died, one by one. Leaving only a handful of them. Tess didn’t know why but she had this insufferable instinct to stay alive. She didn’t understand it. Before the outbreak she never fancied herself being a person who contemplated the meaning of life. She just lived. She had a job, a husband, a cute son. That was meant to be her meaning, wasn’t it? During the night when darkness stretched out and drowned out the shine of the stars, she found herself thinking about it a lot. Tess knew she didn’t want to live. It was suffering. Hell on earth. It was meaningless. Why was she here when so many others weren’t? Tess scoffed when people mentioned divine punishment. It was stupid. She might be a shit person now, and hell, maybe she did deserve to be punished for the things she did and was going to do. But during the brief period when she was wandering alone, she met some good people. Not a lot. However, she would spit in the face of a god who had decided those handful of people should be punished with the rest of them.
To put it simply, Tess did not want to exist but did so anyway. She stared blankly at everyone and everything. Her mind and heart urged her to make the smart choices. She was quick to eliminate the possibilities that might cause her death. She assessed the weak links of the group. Stayed clear away from them.
Smart choices. She blamed that part of herself for wanting to approach the Millers. A simple exchange for her smarts for their muscle. Tess never had this need to group up with anyone specific in their little crew before. No one had really spiked her interest. Neither Tommy nor Joel seemed like the brightest bulbs in the box but, she had to admit, they had a hell of a way to survive. Tess wasn’t strong. Sure, she aimed right and could stab someone in the neck, but those talents didn’t necessarily mean that she was strong where it counted. Granted, her biggest weapon was manipulation. She hardly found regret when she tricked someone. Why should she? Nothing mattered.
She observed the brothers. Joel was a lost cause and Tess was pretty sure the older brother hadn’t uttered a word to any of them since he joined. His hardened gaze was enough to make anyone cower in fear and stay away. Tommy on the other hand. . . he was approachable. Tess could see that whatever had broken Joel hadn’t had the same effect on his brother. Tommy talked to her sometimes. Asked her where she was from, how did she end up with the rest of this messy bunch—his words not her’s. Tess did answer, some part of her hoping that the titbits of her life would reach Joel. In return for the information she gave, she learned about them as well. Not a lot, but little was still something.
One day she gave the brothers her last can of fruit. She had been hiding it for a while and was planning on eating the sweet, albeit out of date, peaches when her period came. She always ached for something sweet during those times. But she had a plan in motion and in the long run, Tess knew that this small, purposeful, act of kindness would do well for her.
She was right. A week later cold had started to settle into the earth, Tommy brought her a jacket. She didn’t ask where it came from. Nor did she comment on why it was still warm. With a thanks touching her lips, she put it on, ignoring the uncomfortable churn of her stomach.
Joel still didn’t talk to her. Tess noticed him staring a lot. During moments when the fire was crackling, heating up their sore bodies, she was allowed to sit closer to them. She didn’t remember the last time she strived to be closer to someone. She was doing it for her own benefit, of course, but still, Tess had forgotten how to approach people without frowning at how ridiculous it felt to talk about the blossoming flowers. Or the weather.
Every day she felt worse without knowing how to make herself feel better. Every day opening her eyes proved to be more of a struggle. She was in purgatory. Destined to repeat the same sad cycle.
Tommy made her feel a little bit better. He talked endlessly, even when words didn’t need to be said. Tess knew the signs men made in order to distract themselves. Tommy was in pain. At least his own version of it. He lived it differently compared to his brother. Joel sulked, kept to himself, locked himself up tight like a stubborn walnut. In this aspect, Tess felt closer to Joel. She was very much the same. Her desire to talk about her feelings was close to none, and in moments she succumbed to that desire, she felt embarrassed the next day. Almost shy. She recognizes it’s a stupid emotion to have in a world on fire, but something she couldn’t help. Her body had a mind of its own, disobeying her in the most crucial moments. An example of this would be her breathing. She was sick and tired of it.
If there was a god, and she was doubtful of the fact, Tess would want the deity to convince her why she should keep going. What was she fighting for? Why was she here? It was foolish to think there was a higher purpose, she knew there wasn’t one. So why was her body keep fighting on her behalf?
She had too many questions, she realized.
No wonder nobody bothered to show up and spill the cosmic beans to her.
Joel wasn’t expecting Tess to join him during his watch. Or maybe he was, he had no idea what the hell his brain was thinkin’ anymore. He’d noticed the looks. Something was stirring and he could sniff trouble comin’ from a mile away, unlike Tommy, who seemed to be too eager in making friends instead of watching his own goddamn back. Joel had met Tess’s gaze approximately once. Her eyes were green and he thought about how much brighter they must’ve been before all hell broke loose. Now it was a muddled color, a shade of green you would find at the bottom of a polluted lake. Joel didn’t remember why he had looked into her eyes. He thought it was because she said something, or maybe it was Tommy that had said something first. He couldn’t tell the days apart. Every moment bled into one another, turning time into one nonsensical blob.
Tess sat across from him, the fading embers made her skin glow a warm orange. The night had begun to grow longer, the day shorter. Luckily, they were getting close to Boston. Joel couldn’t wait to get rid of the nonessentials that surrounded them. Tommy was fast asleep along with the other two people who remained in their crew. Without realizing it, Joel hugged his rifle tighter. Tess’s eyes followed the moment. Her gaze lingered on the rifle for a moment before meeting Joel’s gaze. She didn’t say anything and it made Joel feel awkward. He cleared his throat and spread his legs wider.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, understanding instantly that this exact question was what she was hoping for. She doesn’t smile, but her lips mimic the shape of it.
She answered. “Nope.”
Silence.
Since when was Joel disturbed by silence? Never. Not even when it was absolute strangers he was with. He never felt the awkward nature of it. Silence had become his friend, his confidant. He spoke to it without making a sound. In the dead of night, he would move his lips, talking to it endlessly. He had to. He had to or he would go insane—or maybe he’d already passed the line separating the two. Joel wasn’t sure. The line was a blur.
Now, the silence felt menacing. His skin grew taut, his bones stiff. His mouth dry like sandpaper, he swallows, then again and again. Filling his mouth with saliva only for it to go dry a moment later.
“I’d rather be alone,” he grunted, internally flinching at how loud he sounded. Joel was hoping this would be the end of it. The sentence paired with his glare was an excellent people repellent.
She only shrugged, garnering his greatest weapon useless, “And I’d rather stay.”
Joel didn’t know what to say to that. He found her statement to be utter bullshit. No one wanted to stay with him. He wasn’t blind, he could see that over the months his brother grew uncomfortable around him. Hell, not even himself. Instinctively, he touched the scar on his temple, still fresh, pulsing under the pads of his fingers. If she noticed, she didn’t ask.
It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d did. Joel wouldn’t have answered her.
“I know you’ve been sniffin’ around for information,” he said in a firm tone, leveling her with a stern gaze. He felt his cheeks burning but couldn’t quite understand why. It was a cold night. “I ain’t gonna give you anythin’. This ain’t a get-together. We’ll travel to Boston with our skin still in place, if lucky, and that’ll be it.”
“I agree.”
Joel raised an eyebrow, his fingers tightening around the long muzzle of the rifle. “See you say you understand,” he grunted. “But you’re still sittin’ there, eager for a conversation.”
“I never said I wanted a conversation,” Tess answers, her brows inching closer as she assessed him with a humorful smile. It made him feel stupid. Like she was in on some kind of joke that he wasn’t aware of. “I don’t care about you, Joel.”
He blinked, confusion etching into the growing lines of his face. His lips parted, the air between them tense for multiple reasons. Tess sighed and leaned back as she arched her back, her spine craving from the pressure. She looked like a cat in a sunbeam.
“I don’t care about your brother either,” she confirmed something that Joel already knew. “And if I’m being honest, I don’t really care about myself either but here I am, trying to survive. Get to Boston, hope that FEDRA is better there.”
“It won’t be.”
“Well,” she answered, her voice growing soft along with the green of her eyes, slightly brighter compared to that swamp color. “A girl can always dream.”
Unlike her, Joel did not soften. In fact, he hardened. He moved his jaw, locking it tight. His shoulders stayed firm, and his gaze, devoid of any color, looked directly into her own.
“Was there a reason for you you tellin’ me you don’t give to shit about my brother and I or did I miss it?”
“I’m just keeping everything out in the open,” the light faded in her eyes and Joel relaxed upon seeing it return. “I don’t care about you two, you don’t care about me. So how about we make this trip a useful one for the three of us.”
Joel barked a silent laugh, “Are you suggestin’ we team up?” his smirk stretched from one side to another, it felt like his lips cracked with the unpracticed expression. He bared his teeth to her. Leaned forward, the dying embers warming his neck and reddening his cheeks. “There’s no reason for that. We’re already in a group.”
“They’ll be dead soon. And so will we, if we don’t have each other’s backs.”
“I ain’t trustin’ you,” he answered and Tess seemed to understand. He could see it in her eyes. He shook his head. “Look, you seem smart, but you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree. What do you suggest? That we run away the three of us? If that was somethin’ I wanted I would just run along with Tommy.”
“But he doesn’t want to,” Tess cut in, looking at him between dainty eyelashes. Joel sucked in a breath, his chest expanding uncomfortably. “Isn’t that the whole reason you joined us? Tommy wanted in. Though I’m sure he’s regretting it now. After seeing what we’re capable of as people.”
“He knows what needs to be done,” Joel hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t pretend you know him. You don’t.”
His anger simmered pleasantly under his skin. He greeted this emotion with open arms, he enjoyed feeling the rage. It made him sharp, made him briefly forget about the world he was a part of. The hot anger made him see nothing but red. After years of building and building, it felt good to be allowed to destroy. He would stare at his hands a lot when no one was looking. He would get scarred either way. Building and destroying. It didn’t matter. With the latter, he’d not often felt regret.
“Is he scared of you, Joel?”
“Excuse me?”
The words struck a cord within him. He couldn’t understand at first. And when he did his simmering anger came to a boiling point. In that moment, he wanted to shoot her. He wouldn’t. Tess was defenseless and it would cause more trouble than his trigger-happy fingers were worth. Besides, he still had somewhat of a conscience, at least when it came to the people who he was semi-in close relations with.
Tess, knowing well that she managed to crawl under Joel’s skin, smiled.
“He’s scared of you,” she repeated, making Joel’s ears burn. “That’s why he doesn’t want to be alone with you. I saw how you two operate, you’re still trying to protect him from it, aren’t you?”
“He’s a veteran,” he croaked. “He doesn’t need my protection.”
“I’m not saying he’s not dangerous, or less violent than you. But when push comes to shove, you gladly take that responsibility away from him.”
“So what if I do?” Joel spat. He had forgotten that he was trying to make this woman go away. Blood rushed to his ears and he heard little when it came to their surroundings. All he could see was Tess. She was looking at him with curiosity and a hint of something else. A familiarity. “He’s the only thing I have left. Hell will freeze over before I lose him too.”
“Too?”
Shit. Joel was in deep. He wanted to shut up but couldn’t, he felt like she could understand him. Even parts of him he couldn’t quite understand yet. But despite that sudden need to share the thought he hadn’t even shared with Tommy, Joel kept his silence. He pressed his lips tightly together.
“I guess that was stupid of me to say. Of course, you lost someone else. We all have,” she met Joel’s glare and slowly got up. She fixed the crumpled part of the jacket Tommy gave her, which Joel felt ridiculous— who cared about being neat? Must’ve been a force of habit—and she turned on her heel.
“I’ll leave you to it. I think I’m going to try and catch a couple of hours before it’s my turn.” she stopped before she disappeared completely. Joel expected her to turn around but she didn’t. “Thanks for the conversation.”
And with that, she left.
“Dammit,” Joel grumbled from underneath his breath. He hadn’t expected the conversation to go as long as it did. He settled back into position, relaxing his muscles and legs. She had asked to team up but left without pressing on the matter. Joel found that to be weird. He also couldn’t deny the fact that he enjoyed the back and forth. Some sick part of him liked the challenge, it almost felt like dancing, which he wasn’t half bad at before the outbreak.
He let out a sigh and touched his scar again. He didn’t trust himself or his thought process anymore. He especially didn’t trust his hands. They had betrayed him once, who was to say that they wouldn’t betray him again? Joel didn’t want to be here. He went on for family, something he often said to Tommy, his only family late. But if he was going to be honest, he would rather make the shot than be here. Surviving. Alone. His only purpose in life taken from him.
Joel would never see Sarah. He would never hear her laughter or watch her grow old.
He would never get to see her graduate.
He would never get to walk her down the aisle.
She was gone, forever. And that notion was still unfamiliar to him. He couldn’t believe it, he doubted he ever could believe it. His guilt really came streaming in when he found himself glad that Sarah couldn’t see all of this. She didn’t see the runners, the clickers. She didn’t witness humanity turning on itself. She didn’t see what Joel had become. And god knows he would’ve been so much worse if she were alive. He would’ve done everything to keep her alive and well, not a soul he would topple over for the sake of her.
So, he didn’t want Sarah to be here with him. No. Even if it was painful to admit, he didn’t want her to see all this. He didn’t want her to live through this hell.
Joel wished he had the strength to join her instead.
“One day,” he promises her, whispering into the silence as he often did. “We’ll be together, baby girl. I’m sorry, your dad is a coward.”
Tess burrowed into her jacket. Her neck felt cold, and her fingers numb. She stared at Joel’s back from where she was crouching at. Finally, they had managed to drag their asses to a city and after waiting around for an hour or so they spotted a group heading their way. They had a decent-looking car and were too cheerful to not have the supplies that they needed to make the last walk to Boston. She watched as Tommy stumbled forward, clenching his stomach and heading to the middle of the road. She hated this part. No matter what anyone thought of her, she did not enjoy taking advantage of the naivety of people. Just because she used weaknesses to her advantage often, didn’t mean she enjoyed it.
However, she did notice a growing blood lust in her. She didn’t like the tricking, but she sure as hell enjoyed the fighting. Tess never dubbed herself a violent person. At least not before, but somehow, after months, she found it as a decent enough release. There were no drinks on the road, only the sweet satisfaction when her bullet met its mark.
The car screeched to a halt. A man came out, looking with worry but also suspicion. Tess’s gaze moved from Tommy to Joel. He was tense, thick fingers ready to take aim if anything would happen to his brother. The man leaned forward, asking if Tommy was alright. He was. Before the man could react, Tommy’s fist collided with his chin. The stranger stumbled forward, two other men came stumbling out of the car. Joel shot one in the left without hesitation. He came out of hiding and so did Tess. She always had Joel’s back. At first, she thought she did this because she needed Joel. After a while, she noticed this wasn’t quite the case. It was a month to a flame kind of situation. She wanted to be near him. She wanted to be the one to take down anyone who thought they could harm them.
Them being her, Joel, and Tommy.
Joel didn’t like wasting bullets. He took out his knife and plunged it into someone’s neck. The sound should’ve horrified her, but she just felt a sick thrill rushing up her spine. This was the world they lived in now. One born out of violence.
The three men fell and immediately their crew started raiding the vehicle. Just like Tess suspected, the car was in good shape, they could’ve used it. Tess felt Joel’s presence right next to her, his broad shoulder brushing against hers. Joel and Tommy made a habit of checking in with Tess to ask what they needed most. Even if Joel had said no to the team-up, they had become one, without knowing. While the other two looked in the trunk, Joel leaned into Tess’s ear, his hot breath fanning her dirt-ridden skin. It felt oddly nice.
“This car won’t hold the five of us,” he said in a hushed tone. “Let’s ditch’em.”
“Look at you finally warming up to me,” she teased, the corners of her lips twitching. Joel frowned but still, she could see a tenderness in his charcoal eyes. “Do you have a plan?”
“I mean, isn’t it obvious?” he shifted uncomfortably, pulling the rifle to his front. Tess’s gaze dropped to the weapon briefly, her eyes immediately shooting back up to meet his. She didn’t need him to spill it out. Tess knew exactly what he meant, and honestly, he didn’t mind the straightforward plan. They would’ve done the same—this was something Tess repeated herself constantly, she believed it.
“What about Tommy?” Tess asked, unlike Joel and her, Tommy knew their names. She didn’t think he cared about them but still, despite all they’d done, the younger Miller still had a weird code that he tended to follow.
“He’ll understand.”
Everyone had their mantras they tended to repeat. Even if they didn’t quite believe it. Saying they would’ve done the same, was Tess’s, and saying he’ll understand was Joel’s. Maybe Tommy did understand, Tess never bothered to ask or check-in.
Her sole focus was getting the three of them to Boston alive. Honestly, she didn’t know a bigger thing in this world to show that she cared. They’d grown close in odd ways. Tess would throw over them a blanket or jacket when their teeth clattered at night. She found this to be peaceful, her soul easing just a bit at the familiarity of the action. And when they were on the road, the brother began to cage her in, having her in the middle. Tess hated hiking. She always fucking tripped. They caught her, every time. Their conversation skills lacked, someone would eventually strike a nerve but Tess knew over time, that would grow strong as well.
Funnily enough, they didn’t kill them. When Tommy got a sense of what was happening, he guarded Joel’s back. Family came first after all. Joel beat them, knocked them out, and left them bloody and whimpering. Tess watched with fascination. He had so much rage. She should’ve been used to it but she wasn’t. Every time he heard a bone crack, her breath hitched. Joel had something else driving him, that was her only explanation. His gaze would become dazed and he would bare his teeth like a wild animal. She often saw that Joel wouldn’t hear no one in this state, only on rare occasions he would hear Tommy.
The man was consumed by violence. He drowned in it. Yet she knew he longed for something else. Something similar that Tess longed for as well. Neither of the brothers told her but she knew. No one could hide the pain of losing a child. And he knew she showed it as well. Hiding that kind of pain was unbearable, unthinkable. In some sense, she was happy that she showed it. It meant that he was with her, always. Be it good or bad.
When the beating stopped, one still remained conscious. His faze was swollen, crimson blood pouring from his mouth. Joel took a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back so their former crew member could look into his eyes. She wondered what they saw. Would she ever be the end of that gaze? She figured that wouldn’t be the worst way to go.
“You’re goin’ to forget about us?” Joel growled. “Understand?”
The man whimpered something similar to a fuck you but Tess couldn’t quite tell. Joel snarled and his fist whirred through the air, landing the finishing blow.
When the three entered the car, Tess could see the small movements of their chests. Barely there. The concrete they were laying on stained with red.
They weren’t good people.
And she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
Boston QZ was most certainly better than Detroit. At least for the time being. It was still shit, but Tess felt that she could breathe better here. Fedra was easier to persuade with goods. Goods that she had no trouble getting her hands on, thanks to the Millers. They worked subtly at first, learning the routes and making “friends” among the smugglers that already had their respective spots and partners.
Tommy and Joel stayed together while Tess stayed alone in the apartment opposite from them. Sometimes she would look through the dusty windows, stealing brief glances at Joel and Tommy. They sat on the couch a lot. Talked a lot. During nights when Tess woke up drenched in sweat and her heart ramming in her chest, she found solace in seeing a dim light pouring through their window. It made her feel less alone.
After a week, she noticed a blue butterfly on their window. One time she felt brave enough to ask about it. She was already in their apartment so it felt like the perfect moment.
“What’s with the butterfly?”
Joel’s eyes slowly moved to the delicate decoration, his gaze lingered. “Apparently Tommy took it from Sarah’s room. He kept it all this time and thought it would be good to finally hand it.” he sounded almost wistful.
That was the first time Joel mentioned Sarah to Tess. She found herself speechless and didn’t say a word. A warmth she had forgotten blossomed in her chest and spread through her body like wildfire. Her ears started to ring, her heart started beating too fast. The warmth she felt turned into something sickly hot, so hot that she had trouble breathing. She thought herself to be spiraling. Her eyes couldn’t focus and her breath came out in harsh pants. Joel’s presence loomed near her. Just his presence without any physical touch. He slightly leaned forward, ready to place his large hands on the span of her back if she needed it. She swallowed, refusing to ask for the comfort.
It wasn’t the fact that she was touched by Joel’s non-existent confession that he had lost his daughter. It was the fact that she was right and this man shared the same pain as she did. Her mind went back in time, images blurring into a sickly dark color until it stopped on a certain September night. She’d skipped dinner, running late that night. When she arrived home she saw the empty plates and a portion left out for her, pasta with a pre-made marinara sauce. Without touching it, she looked around, finding their home to be uncharacteristically silent. Tess didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but she took a knife with her as she entered the living room—
“Tess,” Joel called, his voice dropping an octave. Still not touching her. “Tess, are you alright?”
“I,” she shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Tess knew how to influence Joel. It wasn’t the same with Tommy, the younger Miller was more eager to believe in everything and anything. Joel was easier. He didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to plan, which made it easier for Tess because she always had a plan. Responsibility weighed heavily on Joel’s shoulders and he wanted nothing more than to give that away.
But sometimes Tess forgot that Joel read her just as easily.
She felt his palm resting between her shoulder blades. She let out a breath then. His hand eased the tension of her back, moving up and down and back up again. Her shoulders dropped and so did her head. Joel continued to do this until her breathing returned to normal and she found her voice again. Never would she thought that the same hands that destroyed so easily could be her sense of comfort.
“Thanks,” she croaked out, her voice shaky.
“You’re good,” he answered. His hand had stopped moving but still laid heavily over her back. “I had the same—if not worse— reaction when Tommy showed me the butterfly. I was furious. . . this thing that we feel, it ain’t ever gonna get easy.”
Her resolve started to crack. She imagined her blood pouring through the gaps like thick tar. That’s how it felt and it hurt as much. Still, it fucking hurt. She would never heal from this, she would never have that hope again. At least that was what she believe back then, before a girl showed up saying that she was immune.
Tess sucked in a sharp breath through the gaps of her teeth. Her eyes were wet. She struggled to keep it all in, a knot big as her fist clogging her throat.
The curve of Joel’s nose pressed against the side of her cheek. His eyes were closed. Two hands came to her sides and skimmed down her forearms. His hot breath fanned her cheek and she felt his lips. They were chapped and rough against her tender flesh. He didn’t kiss her, but he might as well have.
“His name was Jason,” she choked and her nostrils flared. It was unbearable. The way she felt. She just wanted all of it to stop; her shivering, her tears, her thoughts, her flood of memories. But it didn’t.
Tess didn’t remember much after that. She didn’t fall or collapse, she didn’t sob loudly with parted lips. She cried silently, exhaling sharp pants. The streaks burned her face. Her bottom lips quivered. Sometimes during that, Joel had pulled her towards the couch she so often saw through her own window. His arm never left her shoulder and occasionally he brushed his knuckles over the shimmering wetness that glided down her face.
It was nice and unexpected. Somewhere along the journey, Tess managed to gain more than she had hoped for. She was looking for a soldier. Someone who would be use of her physically. Fighting the battles she could not when her wits weren’t enough. Joel proved to be more than what she thought of him. She gained so much more.
She gained a friend. Someone who understood her. And honestly, what more could you ask during the end of times?
You keep going for family. This was another thing Joel said in moments of vulnerability. A reminder of sorts.
It was raining when Tommy left him, it was raining still. Tess’s boots smacked heavily against the wet pavement. She had heard the rumors before confirming it from Joel himself. Tommy had joined those nutcases called the fireflies. The younger Miller had left them both. Some part of her didn’t want to believe it. She had seen the signs of it but it was still hard to believe Tommy would actually leave Joel. Despite their differences, they were strong together, and in a world like this, that was something you wouldn’t want to give up.
The fireflies must’ve brainwashed him. Tess could see no other way.
The door was already open when she got there and it creaked after she entered and closed it. Joel was sitting on the couch, his legs parted and hands cradling his face. He didn’t make a noise as Tess approached him. She knelt in front of him, curling her fingers around his wrists. They barely closed around the bone.
“He left,” he said. “He fuckin’ left to save the goddamn world. Again.”
Tess clicked her tongue, a soft smile gracing her countenance. She slowly shook her head, “They never learn.”
Joel sighed and pulled his hands away from his face. His arms dropped to his knees along with Tess’s hands. He just stared at her. His gaze unfocused like he wasn’t there.
“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Joel bristled. Only then Tess noticed his hoarse voice, as if he’d been shouting for a good ten hours. Her fingers twitched above his forearms, she did a brief scan. She took in the sight of a broken chair, the shattered glass on the floor. It must’ve been one hell of a fight. “He promised to let me know what he’s up to thanks to the radio. Every Sunday he said. Like that makes this situation any goddamn better.”
Her gaze moved back to Joel. In the dark of the living room, she had failed to notice the dark circle slowly forming around his eyes. Lighting struck and she saw it more clearly. The sudden burst of light gave him a menacing look. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, a soft gasp parting her lips. Goosebumps pebbled over her skin so fast that it stung.
“He’ll be fine,” Tess said, her words empty to her own ears.
“You don’t know that.”
“I don’t,” she agreed. “But I know that Tommy is capable, he’ll find his way. Eventually.”
“I did this,” Joel said suddenly, ignoring her words that was meant to comfort him. “I keep saying he understands what needs to be done. I can’t help it. I still see him as that hopeful kid before that moron shipped himself off to war. Somethin’ died in him Tess. I don’t know what’ll happen to him if the last bit of his goodness also dies. He’s not like us. Hope feeds him.”
Not like us.
So Joel had noticed it too. That there was more to them than common losses and the way that they dealt with it. Joel saw her as bit of destructive as he was, only in different ways. Tess was surprised to see that this notion didn’t bother her. It was more like a relief. A brush of soft waves burying her feet into the sand. She didn’t want to act or pretend to be something that she wasn’t. She wasn’t kind, she wasn’t good. Joel saw that. He saw parts of him in her that allowed him to confess things he probably didn’t even confess to his brother. Joel always saw Tommy as light and himself as darkness. Tess could argue that Tommy’s “light” wasn’t exactly something good or useful. She found it more to be a defense mechanism for tricking himself that this world had more to offer—but she’s rather cut her tongue off than say that to Joel. He had enough going on in that thick skull of his.
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Tess answered, watching as Joel furrowed his brows. “Fireflies are nothing but hopeful idiots believing that things might change.”
“I don’t want him to live in a delusion.”
“Then let him see what the world is for himself. You’ve done enough. You can’t shield him forever.”
His pupils ate away the color of his eyes that was already dark to begin with. Tess held his breath while his gaze searched for something, flitting over every surface of her face. Something shifted in the air. Tess could feel it needling into her skin, her heart heavy with a desire she had completely forgotten about. Her skin prickled and her fingers twitched.
Joel breathed heavily, not moving an inch. His eyes dropped to her lips and she could see the hints of confusion burrowing into his rugged features. Tess wasn’t known for her patience. Especially not now. She closed the distance, crashing their lips together, devouring the mourning man hungrily. Joel leaned closer and his legs spread futher, allowing Tess to inch closer to the gaps of his body.
She slipped her tongue between his lips and he threaded his fingers into her hair. He tasted like moonshine and the artificial, bitter taste of pills. She felt blunt nails against her scalp, burying themselves into the dry skin. Joel pulled and she went, baring her neck. He tugged on her locks harder, pressed his lips against her neck. She felt teeth and tongue. Joel bit into her, again and again, marking her, pouring his need to possess and keep those he cared for close to him.
Tess returned the gesture in kind. Her hands went up the flannel of his shirt and she dragged her nails down his back. She heard him hissing into her skin. She keened at the sound, demanded more of it. When she did it again, Joel groaned. He dragged his lips up her neck and all the way up to her temple where he breathed heavily.
“Harder,” he rasped, his own fingers making their presence known by pulling at the roots of her hair. “Make me feel it, Tess.”
His Texan drawl had become deeper with pleasure and pain. Tess bit his bottom lip and pulled as she slowly got up. She shrugged off her jacket and plaid, kicked away his jeans and boots. She wanted to feel him as well. She wanted to feel the rough drag of the worn fabric of his jeans, wanted to feel his hands on her bare skin. Joel’s gaze was all-consuming, devouring. Tess straddled his lap, the ache in her thighs growing as she accommodate the width of his hips. Joel wanted no time spreading his fingers over the expanse of her back, feeling the small scars that lingered there.
She was braless and Tess knew he liked the fact that she was. Her nipples pebbled with the cold of the room, the dampness of rain seeping through the walls easily. Joel wasted no time taking the peaked flesh between his lips. His hands cupped her waist and her head fell back at how harshly he sucked. Her back arched, pushing more of herself between those sinful lips. He swirled his tongue, nipped the aching flesh. Arousal pooled between her legs and Tess felt the fabric sticking to her folds, making her shift over his lap.
Tess could feel how hard Joel was through his jeans. She rolled her hips, both of them moaning at the sudden jolt of pleasure rolling over their heated skin.
She gripped his hair and yanked his head back, a groan vibrating through his chest. Tess kissed him hard, he sucked her tongue and in return, Tess grinned and bit him. He hissed into her open mouth. “Do you feel it now, Joel?”
“Shit—I do,” he guided the sloppy roll of her hips, his hand dropped between her legs, thumb grazing over her throbbing clit. “Can’t wait to bury myself deep in this sweet pussy, spitfire. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me fuckin’ you hard so you can’t think anythin’ else.”
He’d called her spitfire, she hadn’t expected herself to enjoy that as much as she did. That nickname would be reserved for when it was just the two of them.
“That would be ideal, yes,” she purred, cradling Joel’s face, she pulled up his gaze. “Hopefully you’re not just all talk and no bite.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’m plenty of bite.”
Much to her surprise, Joel smirked, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. She couldn’t help herself and pressed her thumb against the shiny swell of it. He kissed her thumb then cupped her ass, urging her to lift herself on her knees. Tess did exactly that, hovering in the air as Joel unzipped and pulled himself out of the confinements of his jeans. Some part of her wanted to strip him, see him bare, and connect every scar with the drag of her tongue. However, at this given moment, she felt dazed, as if everything that was happening around her was buried under a sheer patch of smoke. There was a tremor to her thighs. Joel’s hands slowly gripped her thighs, kneading the muscle.
“You sure ‘bout this?” he groaned, the slick sound of him fucking his fist deafening. She clenched around nothing, arousal dripping down the inside of her thighs.
“Yeah,” Tess gasped.“I want this.”
She took him inch by inch, a hint of plain blossoming between her legs as Joel stretched her wide. Tess didn’t remember the last time she had sex. She forgot about the importance of preparation. The thoughts of want and need were too consuming. Besides, it wasn’t important. Tess knew that the pain would soon turn into something pleasurable. Her walls fluttered and squeezes around him, trying to adjust to his size. Her nostrils flared and Joel pressed his lips into her chest, peppering the delicate skin.
When she was fully seated, he dragged his palms across her back and then slid his hands to the front of her body. He squeezed her breasts and brushed his thumbs over her nipples. Every part of it felt incredibly good. Having him buried so deep made her feel alive in a way that she had forgotten.
“How does it feel?” he asked in a hushed tone, the tip of his nose cold as it brushed against her clavicle. His thumb dug into her hip bone.
“Shit, Joel. You’re seriously packing, I never would’ve thought,” a puff of laughter parted her lips. “But to answer your question—yeah, it feels fucking good.”
Joel groaned, flexing his cock. Tess shuddered, a gush of arousal wetting them both. One hand slid up to rest between her shoulder blades while the other followed the curve of her behind. “Tell me if. . .” he swallowed. “Tell me if anythin’ feels not-good, a’right?”
His voice was soft, the way he spoke slow. And he was so incredibly awkward. It was endearing. Her nails bit into his broad shoulders, her body relaxing in a way it hadn’t ever since the infection spread.
“Alright.”
The rain grew louder, drowning out their moans.
Pleasure rolled over her again and again. Like everything, they connected in this aspect of their lives as well. Their bodies were in complete harmony and in constant movement. Tess would push herself up with the guidance of his arms and Joel would snap into her. The pacing of his hips was hard and fast, with every stroke Tess could feel her lungs emptying and burning. The fabric of his jeans scraped against the delicate skin of the back of her thighs.
Joel’s rage seeped into her with every thrust, she could feel it. The grief, the pain, the betrayal. She allowed him to use her. The relief wouldn’t last but it was better than nothing—and it also allowed her a moment of a blank slate that made her see stars. His movement became rough, his feet planted against the hardwood floors, he fucked her nice and deep. Just like she wanted. Tess could think of nothing else. Only the way his big cock split her into two and how she wanted this to be the only thing she felt until she died.
Her orgasm shattered through her, black dots hovering across her vision, she pulled Joel close. He happily buried his face into her, facial hair tickling her skin, his velvet tongue poking out between his lips to taste the salt. She shivered, her entire body contorting with the strangle of pleasure. Briefly, she couldn’t breathe. Everything felt too much, too sudden. Joel pushed her down, burying himself deeper as he slightly raised his hips off the couch to fill her more, if possible. He groaned at the way her walls fluttered, how it threatened to squeeze him dry. His hand slid back to the back of her neck and harshly forced her to lean in for a searing kiss.
When the tremors of her body subsided, Joel pulled out. His cock jutted dark between his legs and leaked for her. She felt him against her stomach, wet and warm, as he jerked himself with sloppy, urgent strokes. He inhaled a sharp breath. Hissed between clenched teeth when he came, hot ropes of come splashing over the soft swell of her stomach. A shudder crawled down her spine, a whimper parting her lips.
Joel took deep breaths of her scent, groaned into her. His cock continued to throb against his palm, the tremors of his orgasm still raking across his body. Every muscle clenched and taut by the force of it.
“Fuck,” Tess huffed, loudly. Her lips moved over Joel’s forehead, the tension that drew lines into his face momentarily gone. “You were right, you definitely have a bite, Miller.”
“Fuckin’ told you.”
Tess couldn’t see his face but she knew he was smiling.
Joel saw red.
His fists ached, his breathing was uneven, shudders rolling throughout his body over and over again. Blood dripped to the floors of their shared apartment. His knuckles were split and when his gaze dropped to his hands, he moved them, hissing at the blossoming pain. Tess wearily sat on the dusty couch, her body looking like a ragdoll. The jacket Tommy had gifted her all those months ago was tattered and she had a swollen lip.
Joel saw read when he saw Tess laying on the cold concrete, a group of men huddled around her, kicking her to the curb.
He didn’t even remember pulling out his knife. Didn’t remember pulling out his gun. It was late. He’s gone out to look after her when she didn’t return when she said she would. It was supposed to be as simple drop-off, which is why Tess had insisted Joel stay behind. Looking over her, Joel promised himself to never stay behind again. He fucking knew something would go wrong and he was right.
He was so tired of always being fuckin’ right.
Joel wasn’t sure how much of it Tess saw or heard. He killed them all and didn’t stop when they dropped down one by one, rage blinded him, consumed him. The wretched feeling only disappeared when he heard Tess groan, a faint whisper of his name following. He dropped the man he held by the collar—maybe calling him corpse would be more fitting than man? Joel was fairly certain he was already dead— he scooped Tess up from the ground and carried her to their shared apartment, carefully so that FEDRA wouldn’t spot them.
Somewhere between the months, Tess moved in—though could it really be called moving in when you owned nothing?
“Well, I feel like shit,” Tess groaned, her voice hoarse and scratchy. She could barely open her eyes. She held her head, wincing at the pain. “Those little shits didn’t want to pay up. Fuckin’ new meat is always the worse.”
“Forget about that now,” Joel answered. He moved closer, the chair scraping along the floors. He had a bit of antiseptic left, the last of their batch, and poured some over a dirty cloth. “This is gonna sting.”
“Just get it over with.”
She didn’t say much after that but Joel could tell that it did, in fact, sting. He wiped away the blood from her face, gently cupping her bruised jaw. When he was satisfied he’s clean every wound, he threw the cloth stained with red to the floor and brushed a strand of dirty hair behind her ear. Tess leaned into the touch. It was subtle, but when Joel felt it he allowed his hand to linger.
“We should get you washed up,” he muttered.
Tess snorted and shook her head, “Are you kidding me? The water is freezing cold. There’s no way in hell I’m gonna take a shower at this hour.” when Joel raised both brows she added. “I slept dirtier.”
“I’ll join you,” he said, running his hand up her thigh. He swallowed, it was true Tess slept dirtier, but he didn’t think he could handle seeing her like that any more than he had to. And the scent of blood was making his stomach churn. “Please.”
Tess observed him for a moment. She often did this whenever Joel uttered the word ‘please’. It wasn’t something that he often said, which he did on purpose so the word could carry some weight. It became like a code among them, making the other realize that the other was serious about what they needed.
She sighed, “Fine. Be grateful you’re basically a radiator with legs.”
Joel didn’t have it in himself to smile at the playful quip.
He carefully led Tess to the bathroom, supporting her as they entered the small, dimly lit space. They stripped each other slowly. She unbuttoned his plaid shirt as he pushed her ripped jacket off of her shoulders. Between every article of clothing that was removed, they pressed their lips over every newly exposed skin.
Tess stood under the water, her bruised and battered body tense with pain. The water cascaded down her, mixing with the dirt and blood that stained her skin. Joel watched her silently with his brows furrowed. That rage was swirling in his stomach once more, and he regretted that he finished them off so quickly. His protectiveness a poison both to him and to those around them. If they lived in the world before, this would have became a problem, but not now. Now people ached to be protected, they ached to be taken care of. No matter how much they refused.
Joel stepped into the shower behind her, allowing the water to drench them both. His arms encircled her, pulling her close, their bodies pressed together. The shock of the cold water against their skin was momentary as Joel’s body heat was enough to warm her chilled skin. Tess leaned into him, her curves brushing his semi-hard cock. He ignored it.
Joel’s hands moved with deliberate care, tracing the outline of her body, avoiding the tender spots that were still sore. He focused on each wound, gently cleansing them and removing any debris. Tess winced occasionally but remained silent. The water rinsed away the remnants of their harrowing experience, carrying them down the drain as if washing away the past. Joel knew he would be doing this many times after this, and she would be doing the same for him.
Against the numbing cold, Joel’s fingers carried warmth. She let out a sigh and allowed her head to fall back over his shoulder. They only had water to clean her. No soap. They’d used up their last bar a week before and forgot about replacing it. He cupped her breasts, gently lifting them to allow the water to cleanse everywhere. Tess hissed at the cold, her nipples pebbling.
Satisfied that she was cleansed of the caked blood, Joel’s hand slid between her legs, middled finger sliding between her tender folds. The digit was suddenly enveloped in a searing heat that made him groan. He dragged his teeth up her neck and tugged her earlobe.
“My spitfire,” he said, the nickname bleeding over his tongue. Saying it made him feel uneasy, but it was too late now. Tess didn’t answer her other than let out a soft gasp.
He wanted to say more. And he knew Tess wanted to say more as well. But neither said anything. Unsaid confessions running along their bodies and being drained into the sink just like the water that made them short of breath. He’d hoped what he said was enough to convey. He couldn’t do more than that. Even that was too much to say in a cruel world such as this one.
He turned off the faucet, and the rush of cold water ceased. He reached for a threadbare towel, enfolding her in its embrace, absorbing the moisture clinging to her skin.
Their eyes met, speaking volumes without the need for words.
Joel lead her to their bed and sprawled her over the sheets, the cold drops seeping into the fabric. He rarely stood naked in the apartment, both of them were careful to keep clothed nearby. But in this situation, when both of them were wet and cold, it seemed dumb to stop and put their clothes back on. Tess spread her legs for him. His cock stood dark between his legs, hunger twisting in his stomach. She had a pretty cunt. The soft curls a shade lighter compared to her hair, he sat on his knees, spread his hand over her sex, felt them underneath his fingers.
“I don’t want you goin’ on your own anymore,” he stated. “I don’t care how ‘easy’ the job seems. You ain’t goin’ alone, understood?”
He knew she understood but waited for the nod of her head anyway. And when she did, Joel gripped her thighs and lifted them, allowing her legs to rest upon his shoulders. He dipped in, hungry for a taste. Slowly, he kissed her folds, diving his tongue in between, groaning as she coated his tongue.
“Shit—Fuck—Joel, that feels so good, god.”
Feeling her pulse around him oddly enough, made him feel relieved. Joel sucked her clit between his lips and swirled his tongue over the sensitive nub. Tess arched into him, her hands laced in his dripping hair, she pulled him closer. With a groan, he traced the rip of his tongue around her entrance and pushed the soft muscle in. He fucked her with his tongue, licking into her with rapid strokes. His own need ached between his legs, it was easy to ignore when he felt her fluttering around him. Joel parted her with both thumbs and buried himself deeper. Tess cried out his name, the neediness of it making him smile.
He hummed loudly, the reverberations from the sound made her thighs tighten around the frame of his face. It didn’t take her long to come undone with his mouth. Her back arched, and Joel moaned as her nails bit into his scalp. Her body convulsed and with a moan, she gushed around his tongue, whispering his name over and over as if it was a prayer.
Joel continued to work his jaw, sloppily dragging his tongue down her soaked folds. He loved these moments. Her body would become loose and pliant, seeing her like that made him feel almost glad. Tess tugged on his hair, prompting him to look up. She smiled down at him and dragged her thumb across his shiny lips.
“Your turn, Miller.”
I still can't believe this reached 9k words, it my head it was supposed to be 5k lmaodvf if you reached this far, thank you so much for reading! writing in third person isn't really my strong suit but I hope this was okay!
sending everyone all the love and hugs xx
#joel miller x tess servopoulos#joel x tess#hbo the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us hbo#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters
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The Auction Floor: Thomas Costa’s POV
Hi all,
In exchange for a chapter on the current timeline (a chapter I am still working on/fixing up before it is posted), I am posting a prequel chapter. Any and all prequel chapters will be found under 'Eternal, part 0.' They won't have nav arrows, but they will have an explanation to when in the story they take place, and a link to the masterlist to read more. Hope this system works for everyone!
This chapter happens slightly before, concurrently, and a little after The Auction Floor
TW/CW: death of a minor character (briefly mentioned), institutionalized slavery, pet whump, dehumanization, nonconsensual nudity (nonsexual), minor whump (at time of story), creepy/intimate whumper(s) (sort of a multiple whimpers situation), manhandling (nonsexual) (towards the end)
Mob boss Luciano Antonio Costa – Boss Tony - had died, leaving mafia to his grandson, Thomas, to control. The newly-appointed heir didn’t look much like a typical Italian mob boss. With his blonde hair, steely blue eyes, and freckled fair skin, he hardly even looked Italian. However, the old boss never had any legitimate male heirs to pass the helm of leadership to, having only one daughter before his wife died. Although he begrudgingly accepted his daughter’s marriage to Tom’s father, an inconsequential gangster from the Irish mob, he had always intended to pass the family business onto his surviving grandson.
“I’m so sorry for your loss” began to lose its meaning after the fourth well-meaning chump, and unfortunately, Grandpa Tony’s funeral had a good turnout. “That was a beautiful eulogy,” one of many nameless faces sniffled. “You two must have been very close,” they’d said to him. Were we ever close, though? Thomas wanted to ask, remembering only the time they last fought. It may as well have been a lifetime ago when he was a teenager who turned his back on the family to try and live a straight life, but the guilt hung over him like a curse no matter how hard he had tried to run away from his fate as the next boss of the Costas. It was always about what he wanted me to be, not what I wanted. Never once was it ever about what I wanted to do with my life, he bitterly remembered. Even now, it was all about Grandpa Tony’s wants, as he accepted his role in leading the Costas. He cast a baleful glance at the casket as it slowly disappeared beneath the earth.You won, old man.
His underboss and a few of the capos, men that he had grown up with and who now supported him in running the large criminal organization, caught on to their new boss’ sour mood. Admittedly, it wasn’t hard to notice how intensely he scowled at the freshly filled-in grave. They suggested celebrating Thomas’ ascension to head of the family with drinks and a night out, but their idea of a night out was attending a black-market auction and maxing out the organization’s funds on frivolous shit. Powerful drugs, illicit weapons, plundered antiques, and –dear god, did Jaime just buy an arowana?! Thomas looked over the side of his whiskey glass disapprovingly.
He glanced over at a corner of the auction house that seemed to gather a large crowd. He shrugged and decided to join them to see the display. The crowd surrounded an entire floor-to-ceiling wall of glass, behind which stood people from all around the world, each divided into their own little compartments within the glass wall, each of them completely naked. The way they were displayed in those little glass tanks was oddly reminiscent of how fish were displayed at a pet store.
Get a pet, people had said to him. It’ll be good for you, they said, help lift your spirits, they said, if you’re responsible for keeping one little thing alive, maybe you’ll be more motivated to take care of yourself, they said. Surely those people had meant a cat or a dog or a python, and probably not an actual human being. Although, Thomas remembered the people giving him that advice were part of the major crime families of the city, too. Perhaps this was what they meant all along?
Regardless of what those people meant, it was a whole different thing to actually commit to owning a person. He’d never seriously considered it before, but now he found himself thoughtfully observing the merchandise behind the glass. Though there were a few people who were obviously adults, most of them were teens, and most them were girls, though there were a couple boys, too.
Whichever one he’d pick, they would have to be relatively attractive, if he was going to have to bear looking at them at the end of every day. He eyed a glass cell with a stunning blonde girl futilely trying to cover herself with her hands and ignore the gazes directed within her cell. Thomas pushed past the crowd and moved on; pretty girls like that would be swiped up immediately, so it wouldn’t even be worth the trouble to place a bid. The next cell held a freckled boy who leaned into the glass, fogging it up with his breath and writing ‘HELP ME’ over and over again with his finger. Thomas passed on that one, too. One by one he would find something wrong with the human assets behind the glass cases. Too shy, too desperate, not my type, that one just stares ahead and doesn’t even move…
He finally stopped around the last few cells, where a crowd had dissipated from in front of a glass cell with discontented murmurs. Inside that one crouched a small boy, knobby knees drawn to bony chest, thin, tan arms wrapped around his shins, and a head of messy dark hair resting on top his knees. The boy dared to look up from his hiding place. Loose, unruly waves of hair and thick, dark eyelashes nearly covered his expressive dark brown eyes. Those eyes hid nothing as they shone with fear. Thomas gripped the whiskey in his hand a little tighter. The child cut a striking image inside the glass prison, reminding him of a time and a place and an incidence he never liked to think about for long-
To his misfortune, his subordinates caught him staring. “Got your eye on the little slave, Tommy-Boy?” Luca asked as he sauntered up to him.
“Don’t call him that.” Even if that was technically what he would be, the whole concept still took a while for him to get used to. “I just think he’s cute is all,” he mumbled into his glass, draining it of the rest of the whiskey while he tried to convince himself the pink in his cheeks was only from the drink.
“Why don’t you place a bid?” Thomas whipped around to see Jaime lurking behind him. When did he get here? His eyes traveled down to the large picnic cooler on wheels, supposedly where Jaime’s new fish was. “Boss Tony, God rest his soul, left you quite the inheritance, I’m sure you can afford him,” Jamie snickered. He pointed to the sign above the glass cell, where the serial number and QR code were displayed prominently. “142225,” he read.
“Doesn’t he kind of remind you of-”
“You shut up. Right now,” Thomas warned.
“We’ll shut up once you place a bid, now come on! At least look up the little slave!”
Thomas sighed and whipped out his phone; the sooner he scanned the QR Code with the app the black market had made him download, the sooner his underlings would shut the hell up. A profile popped up on his phone screen, the men crowding comically around him to read over his shoulder. 142225 had been collected in Pakistan, was 5’1”, and weighed barely 90 lbs. at the last weigh-in.
“They like to starve the kids here,” Luca explained nonchalantly. “Makes it easier to control them.” Thomas glanced briefly at the thin boy inside the glass, frowning a little as he let that unsettling fact sink in. He quickly scrolled past the blood type, known allergies, and other information he deemed irrelevant to hover his thumb over the ‘PLACE A BID’ button.
“Well, go on, you know you want to!”
“He looks easy enough to take care of, and easy on the eyes, too!”
“We saw how enviously you stared at Matteo’s pet at the last New Year’s party, won’t it be nice to finally have one of your own?”
Eventually, their peer-pressure resulted in the new mob boss placing a bid, becoming $30k poorer, filling out some ridiculous form about any last-minute body mods he may want, and waiting until the end of the night to collect his new slave and go home. His companions had left hours ago, and every other buyer had gotten their slave already, so it was just him waiting alone in an emptying warehouse, trying to make small talk with one of the event coordinators.
“So, does he have a name?”
She didn’t even look up from her tablet. “He’s named whatever you want to name him.”
“Where is he from? Besides the collection point, where’s he actually from?”
“We don’t know.”
“How old is he?”
“We don’t know.”
Thomas barely suppressed a groan. “Is there anything you do know?” he ground out impatiently.
“Yeah. He looks even cuter when he cries.” The woman smirked over her tablet, looking over Thomas’ right shoulder. “He’s here.”
Thomas turned around to see the boy, now clothed in a white T-shirt and bluish gray sweatpants. He kept his eyes downcast and his hands folded in front of him. “What’s your name, kid?”
The boy looked up briefly before dropping his gaze back to his bare feet. “Khaled,” he replied, voice timid and heavily accented, “but you may call me whatever you want, sir.”
Khaled. He silently rolled the name around on his tongue as if savoring an exotic sweet. Khaled. Thomas cast what he hoped was a reassuring smile, not that Khaled saw it with his gaze fixed to the floor. “Luckily for you, I like your name.” He strode decisively toward the exit, gently placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder to direct him. “Come with me, Khaled.”
In the nearly three-hour car ride back to Thomas’ home, the mob boss learned three things about his new purchase. Firstly, Khaled was shy, only speaking when spoken to and even then, using as few words as possible. Also, Khaled probably didn’t speak much English; how much of this was because he was shy, and how much of this was because he literally couldn’t understand him? And –finally, -Khaled could run. Since the moment the car parked, Khaled dashed out and sprinted into the street. He nearly got hit by a truck before Thomas could chase after him, pull him back, and drag him inside the apartment building. The scene of a grown man dragging a distressed kid who was screaming bloody murder probably shocked some residents, but fortunately the doorman was part of the Costas and did not bat an eye.
“It is too damn early for this!” Thomas complained to himself as he practically threw Khaled into the awaiting elevator. “Do you want to be leashed up like a dog, you little shit?! Cause that’s what’s going to happen if you keep trying to run away!”
“Let go of me, please!” the boy cried, his voice brittle and panicked like a scared, caged animal as he tried to twist out of the punishing grip on his arm.
“Like hell I’m letting you go, not after maxing out my personal credit card on you and pulling an all-nighter for the first time since Kandahar!” He violently jammed the buttons that would take them to the top floor of the high rise.
Soon the elevator dinged, doors swooshing open as they reached the floor of his penthouse. “Come on!” Thomas continued to drag the boy through the hallway, ignoring him begging in that endearing accent of his. Khaled’s complaints all but ceased as soon as he opened the door to his penthouse and let the boy step inside. His eyes widened, sparkling in awe, and his jaw dropped as he let out a reverent “whoa” that transcended any language barrier.
The living room to the penthouse itself was light and spacious, with large floor-to-ceiling windows that let in plenty of natural light, and minimalist décor to accent the living room. A large L-shaped couch dominated the living room and looked over the expansive rooftop and the cityscape beyond it. The rest of the room terminated sharply into a dining area with a large oak table and a wood-floored kitchen with two large granite countertops. An imposingly large door –the door to Thomas’ bedroom, -stood closed to the left of the living room. A hallway to the right branched off into an office on one side, and a guest bathroom opposite. A small staircase right outside the laundry room led to a storage loft spanning above the entrance. Thomas toed off his shoes at the door. Khaled, who wasn’t wearing any shoes, hesitantly walked in. Tom frowned when he noticed the dirty footprints left behind on his beige rug.“Would you like a bath, Khaled?” he suggested. The fact that Khaled didn’t reply made him again wonder how much English he truly understood. We can work on that. He sighed in exasperation as he gripped the boy’s arm and dragged him off to the guest bathroom. Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. He got the shower head running next. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he tested the water’s temperature with his hand a few times. He nodded in satisfaction as the water finally reached an agreeable temperature. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub. “Can I take off your clothes?” he asked. The boy blinked, then shook his head as he quickly took off the shirt himself. The drab sweatpants soon followed, and he quickly stepped into the shower. Thomas drew the curtain to prevent water from spilling and to give him a shred of privacy. As the boy showered, he soon realized Khaled had nothing to wear but that depressing little t-shirt and sweatpants. He took them to the laundry room and chucked them in the hamper, making a mental note to buy some clothes for Khaled as soon as possible. Cute as the small naked boy was, he was still a minor, and Tom didn’t need any extra distractions while he was adjusting to his new role as Boss of the Costa Family.
Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz
@bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump
#whump writing#whumpee#creepy/intimate whumper#multiple whumpers#tw death mention#institutionalized slavery#pet whump#tw dehumanization#tw nonsexual nudity#nonconsensual nudity#tw minor whump#at time of story#manhandling#near the end there#I think I got all the tags but if i'm missing any do tell me
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To All my Air Placements People
-Or for those who have already read "just feel"
One thing that really bothers me about the astrological community is their relationship with emotions and those who identify as "air people." As an Aquarius dominant, I try to absorb the best of every word, situation, and perspective, as it is my nature to see reason and to consider things from multiple points of view. I don't see a problem with using words like "manipulative," and I'm not particularly concerned with being politically correct.
However, one issue I can't ignore is the way that air moons and people are often described as having difficulty feeling emotions. The common refrain is, "You don't feel, you just think." This creates a lot of subtext, such as "You should just feel and not think," "How will you survive when you realize you can only feel and not think," and "You overthink and don't feel."
I know that this kind of post may not be popular, as people tend to prefer direct solutions rather than philosophical discussions. Additionally, many people become overly attached to astrology, which I don't quite understand, as someone who practices greco roman paganism and views the stars as simply giant balls in space guided by the Gods. However, my goal is to help air people who may be feeling bad due to these descriptions and depreciating themselves unnecessarily. I want to provide them with the tools to live their lives in their own way, without relying too heavily on astrology. If possible, I also hope to change the mentality of the astrological community regarding air people. Or maybe I just want to help myself, who knows?
In this post, I will use my knowledge and concepts to explain why the concept of feeling can be misunderstood, how air people experience emotions, and, most importantly, how to work with your feelings.
Have you ever questioned how emotions work and why we experience them differently in different situations? Fortunately, neuroscientist Lisa Feldman has been working for 25 years to explore these questions, and her book "How Emotions Are Made" provides a scientific way to understand how our bodies process emotions. I will explain the main ideas in a summarized way.
While the amygdala is often regarded as the brain's emotional center, it is not the only part of the brain responsible for emotions. In fact, emotions are not solely processed in the brain, but throughout our whole body via neurons. Studies on monkeys who had their amygdalas removed showed that they temporarily lost the ability to feel fear, but eventually regained it. This suggests that our emotions are not simply regulated by a specific part of the brain.
Instead, emotions are processed when neurons in our body are activated and send signals to our brain. Our brain then processes these signals to determine what the emotion is and how we should respond. For example, the smell of a bakery may cause our mouth to water and make us feel hungry, while waiting in a surgery waiting room may cause us to feel anxious and lose our appetite. Physiologically, both situations trigger the same neurons, but the emotional response is different because our brain takes into account the context.
In other words, our emotions are not simply a reaction to stimuli but are influenced by our environment and our own interpretation of the situation. By understanding how emotions are made, we can gain a better understanding of ourselves and how we respond to different situations.
Drawing upon my esoteric knowledge and delving deeper into the data, have you ever wondered how neurons "communicate" and signal to the body that something is happening? The answer lies in the air. Yes, the gas we breathe in is linked to our emotions. It travels to our brains and is processed in a way that best suits the situation. Interestingly, people with different elemental signs have their own unique ways of dealing with air, which means that the gas they expel is processed differently. However, some may argue that water is the element that deals with emotions. While this may seem like an esoteric concept, I have my own explanation for it.
Neurons are present throughout our body, and the part that is referred to as our second brain is our viscera, especially our stomach, which is ruled by Cancer. Our hormones also play a crucial role in our emotions. It is a well-known fact that we don't think clearly when we are aroused, and our reproductive system, which is ruled by Scorpio, produces a significant portion of our hormones. Our feet also have a plethora of neurons connected to our emotional world, and they are ruled by Pisces. Therefore, water signs are adept at managing their emotions as they work well with this part of the body and process their feelings more quickly. Furthermore, in astrology water rules the emotions, in others studies it can be the air, or even the water rules the material.
Let's delve deeper into the subject and discuss our emotions in more detail. We need to think about them, even if it's just for a second, before we can truly feel them. While this may come naturally to us, it is something we learn as we grow older. When information is transmitted to the brain, the first thing it does is to search for a similar sensation or situation from the past to determine the appropriate response. To demonstrate this, take a look at the picture and try to see something. Then, check out the next one…
Pulling for my esoteric part and exploring more data, you know how the neurons “move” and say to the body that something is happening? By gas. Yes, air. Our emotion is linked with air, that gas goes to our brains and it will be processed in the best way for the situation, and air people have their unique way to deal with air, so that gas that is expelled will be worked in a completely different way for the air people than all the others. But is it not water who deals with emotion? Esoteric saying, yes, but I have my own explanation for that…
Neurons are on our whole body, and the part that is called our second brain are our viscera, principally our stomach, ruled by Cancer. Our hormones work a lot with our brain, and everyone knows how we don’t think too well when we are aroused. The part that produces a great part of our hormones is our reproductive system, ruled by Scorpio. Have you ever seen the amount of techniques focused on stress and negative emotions on our feet? From massages and acupuncture, our foot has a ton of neurons connected to our emotional world, and it is ruled by Pisces. So why are water people good with their emotions? Because they work well with that part of the body, they sign rules and process their feelings quicker, but do that better with their specific part.
Now we can go a little deeper in the subject and talk in more detail with our feelings. We need to think about them, even for a second, before really feeling, but that should be easy for everyone because it is natural and born with that… Yes, it is natural but we aren't born with that… We learn how to feel as we age. When the information goes to the brain the first thing it does is to search for the same sensation and the same situation in the past to know what to do. I can give you an example of how we actually just work with things, with our memory and prediction of what is going on. Look at the pic and try to see something, after that click in the link and I will heal your little problem:
Now that you've seen it, you can't unsee it. The black and white one will make sense now. This is how emotions work: we need to experience a situation to truly understand it. Emotions are complex and we often need to go through a situation more than once to really comprehend what's going on. However, if you put an air person in an environment they already know, they won't have a problem with their emotions.
Now that I've explained how we misunderstand emotions and how they actually work, I'm going to share my knowledge to help my fellow air signs in the best way possible. This is what I've learned to become the best version of myself.
When we feel something, our system works like this: we feel a sensation in our chest, and that information goes to our brain, which tries to put a word to that sensation. Once we find the best word to describe the sensation, it goes back to the area to check if it's accurate. If it's not, the process repeats until we find the best description. So, how do I work with this? I have a lot of emotion names in my memory, so I don't waste time explaining how I feel. Yes, I feel a lot (Pisces Jupiter, Scorpio Mars..), but no, I don't feel the same way as you. Allow me to introduce you:
The Wheel of Emotions
Yes, that is how I do my s***, I take some time in my life to see that wheel and verify what I was feeling in that moment, how I can improve myself, and knowing that I’m not such a bad person, I’m giving you more than 80 feelings explanation here, hope you like. You can see that the main feeling connect with each other.
Fear: an emotion experienced in anticipation of some specific pain or danger (usually accompanied by a desire to flee or fight); an anxious feeling; a feeling of profound respect for someone or something.
Horror: intense and profound fear; something that inspires dislike; something horrible; intense aversion
Dread: fearful expectation or anticipation; be afraid or scared of; be frightened of; causing fear or dread or terror
Mortified: suffering from tissue death; made to feel uncomfortable because of shame or wounded pride
Nervous: of or relating to the nervous system; easily agitated; causing or fraught with or showing anxiety
Anxious: eagerly desirous; causing or fraught with or showing anxiety
Worried: afflicted with or marked by anxious uneasiness or trouble or grief; mentally upset over possible misfortune or danger etc
Insecure: not firm or firmly fixed; likely to fail or give way; lacking in security or safety; lacking self-confidence or assurance
Inadequate: lacking the requisite qualities or resources to meet a task; not sufficient to meet a need, not welcome
Inferior: one of lesser rank or station or quality; a character or symbol set or printed or written beneath or slightly below and to the side of another character; of or characteristic of low rank or importance
Terror: an overwhelming feeling of fear and anxiety; a person who inspires fear or dread; a very troublesome child
Hysterical: characterized by or arising from psychoneurotic hysteria; marked by excessive or uncontrollable emotion
Panic: an overwhelming feeling of fear and anxiety; sudden mass fear and anxiety over anticipated events; be overcome by a sudden fear
Scared: made afraid
Helpless: lacking in or deprived of strength or power; unable to function; without help; unable to manage independently
Frightened: made afraid; thrown into a state of intense fear or desperation
Love: a strong positive emotion of regard and affection any object of warm affection or devotion a beloved person used as terms of endearment.
Tenderness: a tendency to express warm and affectionate feeling; a pain that is felt (as when the area is touched); warm compassionate feelings
Compassionate: share the suffering of; showing or having compassion
Caring: a loving feeling; feeling and exhibiting concern and empathy for others
Peaceful: not disturbed by strife or turmoil or war; peacefully resistant in response to injustice
Satisfied: filled with satisfaction; allayed
Relieved: (of pain or sorrow) made easier to bear; extending out above or beyond a surface or boundary
Desire: the feeling that accompanies an unsatisfied state; an inclination to want things; something that is desired
Infatuation: a foolish and usually extravagant passion or love or admiration; temporary love of an adolescent; an object of extravagant short-lived passion
Passion: a strong feeling or emotion; the trait of being intensely emotional; something that is desired intensely
Longing: prolonged unfulfilled desire or need
Attracted: direct toward itself or oneself by means of some psychological power or physical attributes; be attractive to; exert a force on (a body) causing it to approach or prevent it from moving away
Sentimental: given to or marked by sentiment or sentimentality; effusively or insincerely emotional
Affectionate: having or displaying warmth or affection
Fondness: affection or liking for someone or something
Romantic: conducive to or characterized by the expression of love; of, characterized by, or suggestive of an idealized view of reality; person with romantic beliefs or attitudes.
Joy: a feeling of great pleasure and happiness rejoice
Enthralled: capture the fascinated attention of
Rapture: a feeling of intense pleasure or joy; a state of being carried away by overwhelming emotion; a state of elated bliss
Enchanted: influenced as by charms or incantations
Elation: an exhilarating psychological state of pride and optimism; an absence of depression; a feeling of joy and pride
Jubilation: a feeling of extreme joy; a joyful occasion for special festivities to mark some happy event; the utterance of sounds expressing great joy
Euphoric: exaggerated feeling of well-being or elation
Enthusiastic: having or showing great excitement and interest
Zeal: a feeling of strong eagerness (usually in favor of a person or cause); excessive fervor to do something or accomplish some end; prompt willingness
Excited: in an aroused state; (of persons) excessively affected by emotion; marked by uncontrolled excitement or emotion
Optimist: a person disposed to take a favorable view of things
Hopeful: an ambitious and aspiring young person; having or manifesting hope; full or promise
Eager: a high wave (often dangerous) caused by tidal flow (as by colliding tidal currents or in a narrow estuary); having or showing keen interest or intense desire or impatient expectancy
Proud: feeling self-respect or pleasure in something by which you measure your self-worth; or being a reason for pride; having or displaying great dignity or nobility
Illustrious: widely known and esteemed; having or conferring glory
Triumphant: joyful and proud especially because of triumph or success; experiencing triumph
Cheerful: being full of or promoting cheer; having or showing good spirits; pleasantly (even unrealistically) optimistic
Jovial: full of or showing high-spirited merriment
Blissful: completely happy and contented
Happy: enjoying or showing or marked by joy or pleasure; marked by good fortune; eagerly disposed to act or to be of service
Amused: pleasantly occupied
Delighted: greatly pleased; filled with wonder and delight
Content: being pleased and satisfied (feeling content) or making someone else feel happy and at peace with things (contenting them)
Pleased: experiencing or manifesting pleasure; feeling pleasurable satisfaction over something by which you measures your self-worth
Satisfied: filled with satisfaction; allayed
Surprise: the astonishment you feel when something totally unexpected happens to you a sudden unexpected event the act of surprising someone
Moved: being excited or provoked to the expression of an emotion
Stimulated: emotionally aroused
Touched: having come into contact; being excited or provoked to the expression of an emotion; slightly insane
Overcome: To feel something very strongly. It is usually used in a positive way
Speechless: temporarily incapable of speaking
Astounded: filled with the emotional impact of overwhelming surprise or shock
Amazed: feeling or showing great surprise or wonder
Astonished: surprised, amazed, astonished or bewildered
Awe-Struck: filled with feelings of fear and wonder: filled with awe
Confused: mentally confused; unable to think with clarity or act intelligently; perplexed by many conflicting situations or statements; filled with bewilderment; lacking orderly continuity
Disillusioned: freed from illusion
Perplexed: full of difficulty or confusion or bewilderment
Stunned: filled with the emotional impact of overwhelming surprise or shock; knocked unconscious by a heavy blow; in a state of mental numbness especially as resulting from shock
Shocked: struck with fear, dread, or consternation
Dismayed: cause (someone) to feel consternation and distress; to cause to lose courage or resolution (as because of alarm or fear) must not let ourselves be dismayed by the task before us; upset, perturb were dismayed by the condition of the building
Sadness: emotions experienced when not in a state of well-being the state of being sad the quality of excessive mournfulness and uncheerfulness
Despair: a state in which all hope is lost or absent; the feeling that everything is wrong and nothing will turn out well; abandon hope; give up hope; lose heart
Grief: intense sorrow caused by loss of a loved one (especially by death); something that causes great unhappiness
Powerless: lacking power; impotent
Neglected: disregarded; lacking a caretaker
Isolated: not close together in time; being or feeling set or kept apart from others
Lonely: lacking companions or companionship; marked by dejection from being alone; characterized by or preferring solitude
Shameful: (used of conduct or character) deserving or bringing disgrace or shame; giving offense to moral sensibilities and injurious to reputation
Regretful: feeling or expressing regret or sorrow or a sense of loss over something done or undone
Guilty: responsible for or chargeable with a reprehensible act; showing a sense of guilt
Disappointed: disappointingly unsuccessful; sad or displeased because someone or something has failed to fulfill one’s hopes or expectations
Dismayed: struck with fear, dread, or consternation
Displeased: not pleased; experiencing or manifesting displeasure
Sadness: emotions experienced when not in a state of well-being; the state of being sad; the quality of excessive mournfulness and uncheerfulness
Depressed: filled with melancholy and despondency; in a state of general unhappiness or despondency
Sorrow: an emotion of great sadness associated with loss or bereavement; sadness associated with some wrong done or some disappointment; something that causes great unhappiness
Suffering: a state of acute pain; misery resulting from affliction; psychological suffering
Agony: intense feelings of suffering; acute mental or physical pain; a state of acute pain
Hurt: any physical damage to the body caused by violence or accident or fracture etc; psychological suffering; feelings of mental or physical pain
Anger: a strong emotion a feeling that is oriented toward some real or supposed grievance the state of being angry belligerence aroused by a real or supposed wrong (personified as one of the deadly sins.)
Disgust: strong feelings of dislike; fill with distaste; cause aversion in; offend the moral sense of
Contempt: lack of respect accompanied by a feeling of intense dislike; a manner that is generally disrespectful and contemptuous; open disrespect for a person or thing
Revolted: to turn away with disgust. transitive verb.: to cause to turn away or shrink with disgust or abhorrence; to experience disgust or shock
Envy: a feeling of grudging admiration and desire to have something that is possessed by another; spite and resentment at seeing the success of another (personified as one of the deadly sins); feel envious towards; admire enviously
Resentful: full of or marked by resentment or indignant ill will
Jealous: showing extreme cupidity; painfully desirous of another’s advantages; suspicious or unduly suspicious or fearful of being displaced by a rival
Irritable: easily irritated or annoyed; abnormally sensitive to a stimulus; capable of responding to stimuli
Aggravated: made more severe or intense especially in law; incited, especially deliberately, to anger
Annoyed: aroused to impatience or anger; troubled persistently especially with petty annoyances
Exasperated: greatly annoyed; out of patience
Frustrated: disappointingly unsuccessful
Agitated: troubled emotionally and usually deeply; physically disturbed or set in motion
Rage: a feeling of intense anger; a state of extreme anger; something that is desired intensely
Hostile: don’t want to talk to people, be around them, or even have them near us
Hate: the emotion of intense dislike; a feeling of dislike so strong that it demands action; dislike intensely; feel antipathy or aversion towards
And now we’re done, my biggest goal in this post as I already wrote, is to chance that point of view of the air people, but the most important part is to take off that bad sensation from you chest, my air fellow, that I feel and know that existent every time you read that you’re emotionless and don’t now how to feel the things in the right way. Thank you for your and kisses from the sea.
#astrology#astro notes#astro observations#aquarius#gemini#libra#air placements#sun in astrology#moon in astrology#mercury in astrology#venus in astrology#mars in astrology#esse texto simplesmente me rendeu 58740 caracteres
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hiii could i get J, P, Q an U for Slender? thanks! and i hope your day is going really well >_<
More Fluff Alphabet /w Slenderman but these letters!
my days been pretty okay! slow, but not terrible :O gonna be slow from tomorrow until next saturday so i might promote requests being open
ponders
not proof read!! though to be fair i dont. think i proof read any of my stuff
J (JEALOUSY)-
he can get rather possessive in general when it comes to you or his proxies so uh
don't like, try to make him jealous on purpose, it doesn't end well for anyone involved. actually don't try to tick off forest demons in general
i know i keep saying stuff like "oh god forbid someone make you uncomfortable" in these but like. slenderman is still this huge powerful creature, i know my interpretation on him is a bit silly n different but he still has roots in the 2010s fandom interpretation, you know?
there will be... a mess... is what im saying
in the case that someone is being weird with you, he's less jealous and more angry, though, of course not angry at you
though there will be hard boundaries set in place if you try to rile him up on purpose, he doesnt want to waste his time on someone whos going to toy with him like that. both in a "hey thats not really cool or healthy of you to do to me or our relationship" and also "im fucking slenderman im a old ass powerful demon, who do you think you are?"
P (PETNAMES)-
he calls you; love, darling, my dear
he likes being called; really anything under the sun, because as long as its something coming from your mouth hes pleased, because it ultimately means hes yours and youre his
q (QUESTION)-
for more context see this post! dives into lore stuff for my au/hcs but it'll help add context to this segment!:
here!
hope the link copied well enough </3 if not you can find it on my blog, titled "all entwined in one web" or something along those lines
anyways
some variant of "why do you stay"
you could have decided to be with literally anyone else, but you chose a solitary self loathing demon who eats people in order to survive, created for the sole purpose to cause issues and harm to humanity
on one hand he wants you to stick around and keep him company; but on the other hand he wants you as far away from him as possible so you can go out and live your own life without being in danger or having to put up with his whole deal
please give him lots of reassurance, its going to take a lot for him to stop asking those kinds of questions; assuming he stops asking at all
U (UPSET)-
i feel like him being upset is similar to the jealousy part of this post, but just more. broad. like hes not going to take shit if youre going to try to upset him on purpose
hes more patient if its accidental, though. diving into a previous fluff alphabet, if its an accident and something that can be helped in terms of future instances hes likely to work through it with you. he knows his time with you is short, if his partner is a mortal, and he doesnt want to waste that time
soft slenderman my beloved, let this man have complex emotions and desires and whatnot
kinda just. vanishes when he gets real upset, though, since he cant control his anger that well and generally just doesnt want you to see him like that- best way to help him like that is to just give him time
if youre the one upset hes going to listen to you, if you need someone to talk to. man of few words, advice can go fifty fifty
either gives good advice or not good advice; and thats on him being around for a long time but not really spending a lot of that time you know... interacting with others in a meaningful way
bonus if you still live at your place he's going to do a bunch of your chores for you. in. varying degrees of success, similar reasoning as above since he doesnt really have a home of his own to do like. dishes or laundry at. still bouncing between if im going to have the mansion be a part of this au of mine or not, and if so, how its going to tie in to everything
shrugs
#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x you#creepypasta imagines#slenderman x reader#slenderman headcanons#slenderman imagine#slenderman x you
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The Twelve Days of McChristmas
I wrote this for a Twitter thread, a follow up to the my McChristmas Advent photo posts.
The first day of McChristmas is celebrated with family and those we hold dear, we watch A Princess for Christmas every year
The second day of McChristmas is dedicated to honouring Celtic heritage. Today in Ireland traditionally has been celebrated with an annual hunt of a wren, while it is now linked to St. Stephen its origins are pre-Christian, either Celtic or Scandinavian.
The third day of McChristmas we celebrate with a feast dedicated to the love that brought us together. We drink and make merry, sharing stories how of a Super and a Luthor in love overcame everything
The fourth day of McChristmas is dedicated to lesbians both fans and characters, because as we all know you can’t have a McChristmas without lesbianism
The fifth day of McChristmas is a celebration of bisexuality, because why eat one flavor of ice cream when you can try them all
The sixth day of McChristmas is all about our animal companions so give them a treat, play with them for a little bit longer and give them some extra love today
The seventh day of McChristmas is the day we thank to the gods for Katie McGrath’s onscreen sapphic kisses. So celebrate tonight with a kiss to ring in the New Year
The eighth day of McChristmas we start our new year off with a new book.
The ninth day of McChristmas is celebrated with a tea party, let’s all enjoy some delicious baked goods and tasty tea.
The tenth day of McChristmas was once shrouded in secrecy and some still prefer to keep it that way, a private celebration for a private person.
The eleventh day of McChristmas is a sorrowful one. Today we remember all those we’ve lost.
The twelfth day of McChristmas is a joyous one. Today we celebrate those who survived.
It’s the final day of McChristmastide and I hope you’ve had a simply wonderful McChristmas time.
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Oh boy.
I intentionally avoided posting any thing about the allegations against Tenoch yesterday because I require time to process information. I needed time to give my brain a rest. This still feels a bit too soon. I will never be one to say Tenoch or anyone else would, "never do something like that." Because I have no idea. I'm hoping that the allegations aren't true. This post is my way of venting. It is in no way meant to persuade anyone else on what they should think or feel about this situation. And certainly not meant to be proof or evidence of why it happened or didn't happen. I don't know. None of us knows.
1. The framing of the dissemination of this information as "news." My biggest issue is that I've seen a lot of Twitter accounts pick up the same link that appears to be the outlet that first brought the Tweet by Maria Elena Rios to light (reforma.com). I don't know what journalistic standards this outlet follows, so I won't speculate. I did check to see if any well-established US outlets had Tweeted anything (Associated Press, Reuters, CNN, MSNBC), and as of roughly 30 min. ago they had not.
So far, all we really have are glorified Retweets, not a news story. There are A LOT of accounts with well designed pages that have all the hallmarks of looking like "official" news organizations, but they are not. It takes virtually no time or effort to Retweet something and start an avalanche. It's a trend that has bothered me for the last decade or so. Journalism requires independently verifying information you have received. It's going to multiple sources to corroborate the information. It's at the very least attempting to reach out to the involved parties to get their statements. It's reviewing public records and court filings to see what has been officially documented. And not to say that WON'T happen at some point, but it sure as hell isn't going to happen within 24 hours. It will take time and we STILL may never know the full story.
2. We should believe victims. ABSOLUTELY! In this particular instance and from this vantage point, Maria is only his accuser. It has not yet been established that she is his victim. I understand that she is a victim involving another individual, and thank goodness she survived that horific attack. However, as it pertains to Tenoch, I don't think interjecting alleged sexual assault in a Tweet focused on a different issue is enough to automatically leap to saying she was absolutely, 100%, without a doubt victimized by Tenoch. If it happened I would hope Maria would take legal action, given she was comfortable enough to make the accusation publicly under her name. Even then, she is not required to do so (which is why I say we may never know what did or didn't happen). I would imagine navigating the justice system in Mexico is no less stressful as navigating the justice system in the US. There are valid reasons for women not subjecting themselves to (potentially) years of legal struggles. But I also hope she wouldn't be so reckless as to throw out an allegation and not allow Tenoch to formally defend himself, assuming he denies these allegations. Once again, something that requires TIME.
3. To all those I have interacted with over the past few months on this site, know that I luv ya! I value our time together here. Regardless of what you've said or haven't said about this situation, that hasn't changed. I'm choosing to reserve judgement because that's how I am and how I will always be. I respect that everyone is not like me (thank God). Like many others, I will suspend posting here because, if for no other reason, I know how to read a fucking room. Let's all be kind and respectful to one another. To those folks who interact with me regularly, don't hesitate to DM me.
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