#all three of which seem like very plausible escape routes that could come into play | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jincherie · 6 years

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bumbleberry berceuse | un

➛ pairing: namjoon x reader ➛ genre: tengu au, forest/mountain deity au, fluff ➛ words: 11.6k+ ➛ rating: sfw ➛ warnings: injuries but otherwise nothing too alarming ➛ notes: a very very belated birthday fic for our beloved namjoon!! i can’t seem to stop myself from writing him as soft i--

Stumbling upon a winged man in the forest in dire need of help wasn’t exactly how you envisioned putting your freshly graduated veterinary skills to use, but the decision to help the handsome man was one you most certainly didn’t regret.

— posted; 30.09.2018 // masterlist | moodboard || un | deux

If someone had asked you a month ago, what would you be doing not even a week after your graduation, you probably would have told them you’d be lying in bed, sleeping off the stress that had accumulated in your body after your five long years of study.

As it happened, that wasn’t how things quite turned out at all.

Instead of snoozing away in the comfort of your large queen-sized bed, encompassed in your fluffy blanket and embraced by the abundance of pillows you’d gathered over the years, you were here— hiking through a forest in a place you’d never been to or even heard of before, with only your classmates for company. Well, those classmates were your friends, but right now you weren’t happy with them – going for a full day hike your first day in a new place wasn’t your idea of fun or destressing.

You didn’t really know the where you were very well—it was some remote island that one of your closer friends in the group, Yeri, had been raving about wanting to visit for months. You and a small handful of others had graduated in the same cohort for your degree and agreed that you should celebrate after your years of hard work finally came to an end. You’d thought they’d meant getting blackout drunk and gorging yourselves on sweet pastries and treats; apparently, they meant a three-week holiday to some island in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. You knew something was up when they’d come to pick you up and not one of them had a bag full of alcohol—you should have trusted your instincts and shut the door on their face.

You sighed. Ah, if only you had. Perhaps then you wouldn’t be three more smacks to the face from wayward branches away from unleashing all the complaints that had built up within you throughout the day.

You longed for the comfort of your bed, but since that wasn’t very plausible right now, you settled for the one you’d claimed in the hotel room. Even then, it wasn’t that appealing—you’d hardly even had time to settle in or open your suitcase before Yeri and the others were dragging you out for a full day hike. You weren’t one to mind exercise, but you only liked doing it on your terms—something this activity decidedly was not.

“Oh, don’t look so miserable, y/n!” a cheerful voice sounded to your right and you directed a displeased look in that direction. Yeri had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. “Look, isn’t it beautiful? This island is renowned for its untouched, natural beauty! It’s like it has hardly been touched by civilisation at all. Isn’t it refreshing?”

“I could have just as easily seen it from the hotel room window,” you said, not bothering to attempt and deny her words since the locale was very beautiful. The only thing stopping you from enjoying it was a tricky combination of your stubbornness and pride.

Yeri rolled her eyes, and there was a snort from behind you— if you hadn’t already passed the waterfall on the way back down you might have been inclined to push the person it had come from off the edge.

“Where’s your passion for the outdoors, y/n?” Minhyuk came up beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder; you cringed at the feeling of extra heat and the way your skin stuck together where it met his from sweat. “Your zest for life? We just graduated! And now you’re spending time on an isolated island with your favourite people in the world!”

“Bold of you to assume that’s you,” you retorted, unable to stop the grin that came at his loud, affronted gasp, hand reaching to peel his arm off you.

“Oh, you wound me,” the male nearly tripped on a log in his dramatics, and you watched a bead of sweat roll from his temple, narrowly missing his crimson hairline. “Lucky for you, I like that kind of thing.”

You made a face and he cackled, Yeri reaching to smack his arm from your other side. Desperately, you wished there was a way for you to escape this island— you just wanted sleep, damn it. You’d let them bring you along on this sudden trip, but hiking? And expecting you to be a happy participant? On your first day of holidays? They were on thin fucking ice.

“Minhyuk, she’s going to push you off the next cliff she sees if you don’t stop it,” Irene warned as she climbed past the three of you— you might have been going back down the mountain, but it wasn’t exactly a linear journey. You made a noise of agreement but the male in question merely laughed. The trail you were currently on was fairly worn, but wasn’t the most used— not everyone wanted to climb to the highest possible peak on this mountain.

Which, strangely enough, wasn’t the very top. You’d been confused about it at first, but no one that you’d asked had an answer as to why the very top wasn’t accessible. Apparently it wasn’t just this mountain, but the other six across the island as well. No matter what routes had been attempted in the past, no one had ever been able to reach the top. The best you’d gotten in regards to an explanation came in the form of folklore from the locals of the small town-slash-village that sat at the entrance to a valley between two of the mountains, where you were currently staying. The lady with a kind, weathered face that sold hand-made necklaces of colourful shells and glazed sea glass besides the cafe had told you that for as long as the village had been there, no one had ever seen the tops of those mountains; it was legend among the locals that the seven deities that protected the island resided upon the very tops of the mountains. You, a sceptic at heart, had smiled and nodded in slight wonderment because even if you didn’t believe it yourself it was interesting to know what the people here believed.

Perhaps unfortunately, the six friends you’d come to this island with didn’t seem to share that scepticism. They wanted to try it for themselves, as you’d found when you’d embarked on this hike in the morning. They wanted to try and reach the top, to see if the legends were true, and of course they intended to take you along with them. Of those six friends, you’d been stuck with three— the others, Kihyun, Momo and Jinyoung, had taken a different path. They figured that splitting up and exploring more paths gave them a better chance of reaching it; you would argue that it just gave a better chance of getting lost. It was getting into late afternoon and while there might have been a few more hours of daylight left, there was barely any of it that reached the side of the mountain you were currently trekking back down. It made you conscious enough of your own steps that you watched where you placed your feet like a hawk.

Your limbs ached, the sort of ache that told you tomorrow morning was going to bring some very acute pain, and you decided you were torn between longing for your bed and longing for a hot bath to soak your muscles in. Getting clean would be a definite plus, too, since you'd amassed a generous amount of sweat and dirt over the day and you felt the grimiest you ever remembered feeling in your entire life. You lifted a hand to wipe your brow, thankful you hadn't gone the whole nine miles with your makeup today. God, that would be unfortunate— you'd end up reaching the bottom of the mountain and scaring the locals. You could only imagine the reactions you'd get if you wobbled down there on tired, unsteady legs, mascara smeared and looking like you'd pulled yourself straight out of a horror movie.

Yeri was chattering away happily beside you, but you couldn't focus on what she was saying very well. In all honesty, you just wanted to know when the hike would be done and you'd finally get off this stupid mountain. Your innate love of the outdoors had been squashed by the pain in your thighs and calves from almost six hours of climbing. This hike had really turned you into another person.

"Look!" it was Minhyuk's voice that interrupted your thoughts again, and you turned to follow the direction his finger was pointing in. To the left of your little group there was a light path that branched off this one, nowhere near as well-worn or wide but still there nonetheless. "I don't remember that from when we came up! Maybe it's a shortcut?"

He gasped before anyone could respond. "Oh, what if it's a secret path that will lead us to the top! I remember something like that being in one of the games I played the other month—"

Irene looked somewhat unimpressed at the way he was still so energised and eager to follow a wayward path on a whim and the off chance it would lead to the top of the mountain. "We just barely have gotten halfway down, and you want to go back up to the top?"

Minhyuk seemed like he was barely listening, already making his way over the area where the trail branched and peering down amongst the foliage. He whistled, seemingly impressed. "God, look! It goes really deep in the forest! The trees are so much thicker down there!"

Yeri snorted, and while you were all used to his antics, after a long day such as this one there wasn't much patience left to spare. Irene huffed, grasping Yeri's arm and tugging her back down the path you were already on. Your eyes watched them before your feet could think to follow, body extra heavy now that you'd paused your movement. It was gonna take a lot to get started again, you could feel it.

"Well, you can follow it if you want, but Yeri and I are going to keep on this trail," Irene said, turning and resuming her trek with the younger girl in tow. "I'd like to actually get back before it gets dark."

"Okay, you guys have fun!" Minhyuk called, waving his hand dismissively before it shot out to grasp your forearm and halt you in your attempt to follow them. "Thanks for coming with me, y/n!"

You sputtered, eyes wide. "What? No, I want to go back to the hotel!"

Minhyuk rolled his eyes, already tugging you towards the smaller trail he'd spotted; Yeri and Irene disappeared around a rocky corner, leaving you at his mercy. Traitors.

"That's the eventual destination, babe!" Minhyuk burst dramatically as he led you. "Nothing wrong with a little detour that may or may not lead us to be the first people in history to see the top of the mountain!"

"But I don't wanna go up again," you whined, not even bothering to try pulling back against his hold since your muscles were currently in a worse state than his, if the energy he still had in his bouncing gait was anything to go by. "I physically can't handle it— do you want me to die? Because that's how this is going to end if you try making me go up this damn mountain again."

"You're so dramatic," Minhyuk waved his hand once more, dodging a low branch with ease and just barely indicating in time for you to do the same; it was really starting to get quite dark, your eyes were straining a bit to see. "Even if it doesn't take us to the top of the mountain, it's probably a shortcut!"

That was leaving an awful amount up to chance. You didn't like it one bit.

However, you'd rather go down this path with Minhyuk than leave him alone to his own devices. He was usually the one terrorising the group, but you knew he was just as much of a scaredy cat deep down as the rest of you. He might start crying if he got lost in here at night and as much as you were currently annoyed at him he was still your friend and you absolutely did not want that. Plus, if you parted from him now you would probably get lost yourself trying to find Irene and Yeri. There wasn't much winning in this situation, it seemed.

The two of you walked along the trail for a while, and you did notice that the foliage around here was thicker as he'd said, denser than that you'd been walking through before. It was interesting, but also meant that it got darker much quicker. You'd all brought along things like torches, matches, etcetera, in case you needed them, and it looked like you would be very soon. You didn't fancy tripping on a log or stone and tumbling the rest of the way down the mountain.

"Do you think we'll make the news?" the male asked, turning to you with wide, hopeful eyes. "Dude, we'd be famous. That would be so cool."

"First of all, I don't think there's any way we're going to reach the top of the mountain, especially when we're going downhill," you said, stepping carefully over a large, somewhat unstable-looking rock and using his shoulder as support. He let out a sharp noise of protest at being used. "Second of all, this island is so tiny that I hadn't even heard of it before we came here! I don't think we would be on any news."

Minhyuk let out a disappointed sigh, peering off into the distance through the trees; you could both see the light from the sunset bleeding away into shadow on the opposite mountain. It made an odd feeling settle in your stomach, something akin to urgency thrumming just beneath your skin. You really didn't fancy the idea of being caught on this mountain, on some dodgy trail, come nightfall.

"At least we'd be famous among the locals," the crimson-haired male mused, hopping over a wayward stick with a triumphant noise. "Legends! The unlikely duo that managed to make it to the top of the mountain!"

You rolled your eyes as he continued to prattle on, admittedly a little amused by his antics. You were tired and absolutely ready for a bath and bed, but you were still having a little fun. At some point you deemed it necessary to pull out your torch— probably somewhere along the line after your third and Minhyuk's second trip over seemingly nothing— and now you had at least a little bit more light to guide you. It didn't seem like a shortcut, but you could tell the path was taking you somewhere at least; you just hoped it was in the general direction that you needed.

However, as it grew darker and you walked further along the trail, Minhyuk began to get jumpier. You knew he didn't want to admit he was scared, probably couldn't handle a blow to the pride like that, but you'd known him long enough to be able to tell he was a bit unsettled. You wished you'd stayed on the main path, but didn't bother complaining since he seemed to be suffering enough for his decision to make up for it.

"Gah!" it wasn't much longer before Minhyuk screamed, something having sounded in the distance. It seemed like the crack of a twig, and honestly you hadn't even spared it so much as a second thought, but it seemed to have gotten to the male beside you. His hand gripped your forearm, seeking comfort. "The fuck was that?!"

"Your karma," you snorted, beginning to walk once more. Minhyuk whined, trailing reluctantly after you; you weren't one to scare easily, and knew realistically there wasn't that much to worry about. For Minhyuk though, who probably believed the tales he'd been told about deities living on the very peaks of these mountains, there was probably a lot of irrational things he was scared of in this forest.

"Shut up, y/n, this place is spooky," he said defensively, sniffing when you turned to torch to him and flashed a deadpan look.

"We probably could have been home by now if you hadn't decided you wanted to follow this dumb path," you said, ignoring the way your leg wobbled slightly on your next step from overuse. When you got back to the hotel, you were going to knock out the second your head hit the pillow and sleep like the dead. You didn't think anything would even be able to wake you until your body was ready for it.

"This is probably a shortcut!" he didn't even sound like he believed it himself, wide-eyed as his gaze flitted around your surroundings. "We're probably really close to the bottom!"

You raised your brow at him; he said that, but you'd noticed that the ground you'd been walking on the past few minutes was actually somewhat level, despite the fact that it was too soon for you to have reached the bottom already.

"Whatever you say, Minnie," you said, pushing on with him lagging a few seconds behind you.

Despite the words he'd no doubt spoken to comfort himself as much as you, not that you needed it, the tall male only managed to get jumpier as you went. To be fair, there were more sounds beginning to filter into the air around you as the creatures of the day retired and the creatures who made their home in the night began to wake. So it wasn't like he was jumping at nothing, although you were getting a bit worried as to exactly how scared he was growing. Was he going to be okay? You weren't getting scared yourself but the extent to which he was reacting to the environment did make you somewhat unsettled, more so than you usually would.

After the male screamed again, for what had to be the fifth time, you finally burst, "Will you stop that! There's nothing there dude, you're just freaking us both out."

Minhyuk stomped his foot, shining his torch in the trees where the sound had come from. "I heard something! It was different this time, I swear. It sounded like something really big stepping on a twig or something."

You squinted at him, keeping your torch pointed at the ground. "How have you survived this long with an overactive imagination like that?"

He ignored you, still staring into the trees with furrowed brows, and you let out a sigh.

"It's probably just those other rich tourists that arrived on the ferry with us," you said, grasping his arm in what you aimed to be a comforting manner. "They're probably on their way back down too; I saw them leaving for the trail this morning."

Your words seemed to soothe your companion somewhat, and he turned back to you with a small smile. "The ones with the loafers?"

You snorted, beginning to walk again. "Yeah, and the 'had to do it to em' outfits."

Minhyuk cackled, and you were glad you'd managed to take his mind off his needless worries. Your victory was short-lived, however, as there was another loud noise sounding not far from your whereabouts that had even you pausing. Minhyuk yelped, and you barely had time to turn let alone console him before the noise returned, louder now, and seemed like it was growing closer.

This, in combination with the branch you'd just passed hitting against Minhyuk's back, was enough to make him snap and finally activate his fight or flight response. He let out a sharp noise that reeked of fear and alarm and darted off, body contorting away from whatever had touched it.

"GAH, FUCK WHAT THE FUCK! y/n RUN!"

"Minhyuk, wait!" you called with wide eyes, going to follow after him but tripping on the rock laid conveniently at your feet. The fall wasn't far but your knees still stung as they hit the ground, dirt and rocks digging into your sore skin. Your mind whirled, attempting to catch up to whatever had just transpired, and you listened as that same noise sounded even closer now— you recognised belatedly that it was the sound of something thudding against the earth. You rose to your feet, Minhyuk now long gone, not even the light of his torch visible through the darkness and dense forestry, and scrambled mentally for what to do. You wondered what the hell kept falling so loudly in the first place to make Minhyuk leg it so quickly like a spooked animal, and you wondered how you were going to find him— you hoped he'd stayed on the path.

As your mind began to kick in, you realised that whatever fell must have been a decent size if it was making such a racket— and you quickly came to the conclusion that it could be a wounded animal, or even another hiker. As a recently graduated veterinary student, and a compassionate human being at heart, you decided to check out whatever had been making the noise before you went further down the path in search of Minhyuk. You knew it would bother you more than you could handle if you didn't, and so you waited for the sound to come again before brushing your knees and heading in that direction.

Thankfully, wherever it came from wasn't a place with foliage as thick as the other side of the path. You used your torch to watch where you were stepping, illuminating the path for a few feet ahead of you. Where you were walking seemed like a rough game trail rather than the hiking path you'd been on before with Minhyuk, which was fortunate since you didn't fancy the idea of weaving through tree trunks and around spiky shrubbery with nothing to guide you.

The further you went, the more your straining ears picked up— heavy breaths, pained noises, the shuffling of limbs against the earth. You grew a bit worried, not for yourself, but for whatever was making those noises. You didn't have the proper tools to treat an animal that was hurt as badly as this one sounded, although there wasn't any wailing so you counted that as a good sign. Maybe it was just sick and tired? But even so, what would you do in that case? Drag it down the mountain? You frowned to yourself as you went, half wondering what you'd find and half wondering what the hell you'd do once you did. It occurred to you randomly that this was something Minhyuk would never do, especially given his recent show of fear. You just weren't scared by those sorts of things. Your scepticism allowed you to remain objective about a lot of things, which you were definitely grateful for.

So caught up in your thoughts were you, that you didn't even realise the trees had parted slightly and there was a small metre or so squared area of nothing but grass, leaves and twigs. Your flashlight moved with your stride and you froze on the spot as it shone over something large and hulking, black as ink even beneath the artificial light.

What the fuck was that.

Your first thought was bear, but then you really didn't think there would be bears on an island like this— boar? No, it was shaped too funnily to be a boar. Your internal musing was cut short as the shape shifted, rolling on the earth with a groan.

Holy shit was that a person?!

"Oh shit, are you okay?!" you burst, rushing forth before you could entertain any second thoughts. You got within a few feet of the person on the ground before you halted suddenly once more. "What happened— oh holy fuck, are those wings?!"

The figure— male, as you noticed, with what looked like a massive pair of inky god damn wings stemming from his back— merely groaned, barely managing to crack his eyes open against the stark light of your torch. You quickly pointed it away from his face, too fucking shell-shocked to muster an apology despite the urge that rose within you.

The man— bird-man— creature— whatever he was, pulled himself onto his front and attempted to stand, only to wobble and crumple back onto his knees. He was panting heavily, breathing laboured, and as the light of your torch fell across his wings you noticed with a sickening feeling that one of them didn't look right. The feathers in disarray, the muscle and bone bulging beneath the skin in ways they most definitely shouldn’t, and the limb held differently to the way it should be; it was only now that you noticed the blood staining the dark feathers and gleaming in the flashlight.

He attempted to stand once more, ragged breaths and gasps of pain breaking you from your stupor and you rushed to help him on instinct as he crumpled once more, wings be damned. If you didn't think about them then maybe your mind wouldn't blow up from the overload of stimulus. You darted forward, grasping his arm and pressing a hand against his abdomen so he didn't fall forward.

"Don't," he panted, attempting something like a growl only to have it cut off into a pained groan. His hand grasped yours weakly, scrabbling to pull it off; your brows furrowed at how weak he was. Did he have other injuries? You weren't a human doctor, but you could tell that an injury to the wings shouldn't be affecting him so much that he looked like he was a hop, skip and a step away from death’s door. "Don't touch me. Get off."

The low register of his voice might have distracted you, were you not so consumed with worry.

"What happened to you?" you asked, refusing to budge as he attempted to shift away once more. "I just want to help you, you're really hurt dude."

"Get off me, human," the man— creature— bird-man tried to pull away from you once more, but still wasn't strong enough to attempt it. "I won't give you my wings."

"I don't want them?" you said, confused as to why he was acting like you'd chased him through the forest for the feathery limbs sprouting from his back— oh shit, was that what had happened? Was he being chased, hunted? That was so wrong, and your mind was too overloaded to really comprehend the thought as it ran through your head. "Wait, are there people after you?"

Your words made him pause, and you felt your breath catch in your lungs as he turned his head to face you, dark cocoa eyes with specks of amber peering at you through raven locks that stuck to his forehead from sweat. A startling wave of heat flushed over you for a moment, leaving your limbs chilled in the aftermath, and you couldn't help but stare. Had you ever seen someone so strikingly beautiful?

"You don't want... you don't want my wings?" his voice was rough and succeeded in breaking you from your momentary reverie, your eyes blinking rapidly as you refocused on the present. The shift in his demeanour at the realisation your words prompted was instantaneous, a plea making its way across his fine features. "Then please, help me."

You were agreeing before you knew it, mouth running before you mind ever had a chance to catch up. "I'll help you," you said quickly, adjusting your grasp on him. "What do you need? Where are the people chasing you?"

The answer to your last question came in the form of a noise in the distance, the muffle of voices and shifting shrubbery. Your heart leapt in alarm, gaze whipping back to the male in your arms.

"Fuck, we gotta go," your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you struggled to think what to do. You couldn't go down the path, because that would be predictable, but you'd also never stepped foot in this forest before today and had no idea where else to go. "God, I'm going to be so lost."

The male seemed to have calmed somewhat at the revelation that you were a friend rather than a foe, and his dark eyes met yours once more, holding the gaze steadily. His breathing was still somewhat laboured, grasp on you weak, but there was a certain levelness, a certain strength in his eyes that captured you so wholly for the moment you remained frozen in your spot.

"I can help you find your way back," he said, voice low and raspy as it escaped his throat. His tongue darted to wet full lips that had begun to dry. "If you can help me get to my home. I can't outrun them on my own, they shot me with something and it’s— it's poisoned me."

You soaked up the information he was giving you, storing it away for later— throughout your degree you'd grown accustomed to absorbing any and all information you could about the animals you treated because it was usually all crucial. As soon as you filed it away, you did your best to refocus on the situation at hand. A part of you resisted, called for you to leave and return to the trail and look for Minhyuk, and your first instinct was to follow that. But you held fast, the ache in your heart for the person before you greater than your desire to make it down the mountain and back to the safety of your hotel.

You moved closer to the male, slipping his arm over your shoulder while being mindful of his wing; he was taller than you, but the weakened slouch in his posture meant his head hovered around the same height as yours.

"Okay," you said, feeling the scorching warmth his body radiated even through the materials draped over his form. "I'll help you. Tell me where to go."

The male shot you a look so wrought with gratitude you could have honestly wept, and at the distantly approaching sound of voices he was quick to instruct you. You turned your torch to the lowest setting, and off you went to take the bird-man to safety.

Optimistically, you entertained the thought that perhaps you were dreaming.

x x x x x x

Half an hour of trekking through the forest with a large bird-man draped across your shoulder later had you thinking that perhaps you'd be needing a bit more than optimism to get your head around this. Not long ago, the male had halted you in your steps, directing you over to a large section of rocky cliff-face around a metre and a half or so tall. You'd listened, perplexed, and watched as he pressed his hand to the surface—

—and the god damn rock shifted away to reveal a tunnel of sorts.

At this point you were convinced you'd gotten heatstroke or something during the day and were now heavily hallucinating. Or perhaps you'd really passed out on the trip down and were now having a frivolous fever dream with incredibly attractive winged men and melting rocks.

Either way, you hadn't been able to do anything but follow the bird-man's lead and enter into the tunnel, only your torch there to guide you. The male you were supporting didn't seem to need it to see, but you did and so it stayed on— you didn't need yourself tripping and taking the both of you down somewhere along the line.

You didn't know how long you'd expected the trip through the tunnel to be, but you were coming upon an end sooner than you anticipated. You expected another wall of rock, perhaps even an open end, but to your complete and utter surprise what greeted you was a thin, nicely-made sliding door. Your feet slowed but the stranger's did not, and so you were forced to continue on until you were sliding it open and letting out a sharp gasp at the sight that lay beyond.

It was, quite honestly, beautiful— perhaps one of the most stunning natural scenes you'd ever seen— and to be fair only added to your suspicion that you were currently in the midst of a fever dream. But could your mind really conjure such a sight on its own? The glittering sight of the sky and its reflection upon the smooth waters of the lake to the side, inky depths bathed in moonlight and looking like a cave with walls decorated in gemstones. The glow of soft lanterns around the edge of the meadow rimmed with high stone walls and broken by ornate pillars, the soft whispering of weeping trees and the pastel blossoms that fell from their branches to brush the earth. It was so much, too much, and you were in such awe that you completely forgot the situation that had brought you there in the first place.

"Holy..." your voice couldn't raise above an awed murmur. "Where are we?"

You hadn't been expecting a response, the question muttered mostly to yourself, but the male to your side supplied an answer nonetheless.

"We're at the top of the mountain," he said, coughing harshly at the end before he recovered. "The very peak."

You gaped at him, recalling the lore you'd heard from the villagers earlier. "You're..."

The male didn't seem to hear you that time, instead trying to take a step from you on his own. He failed miserably of course, and you flew to catch him with a yelp before he could crumple completely. "Dude, you are not okay. Do you live up here? Is there somewhere for you to sit and rest?"

The male nodded, raven locks falling across his forehead as he did so. He lifted his free arm and pointed to your right, the opposite of the small lake. "Through the trees."

You turned, following the direction of his gesture with your eyes, and proceeded to help him that way. You tried not to let your mouth hang open as you shuffled between the trees, a tunnel of soft green and pink with leaves so silky as they brushed your skin that it left a shiver in their wake. Before long you were emerging from the gentle, sweeping foliage and arriving upon another small clearing that housed a peculiar structure; you couldn't tell if it was more bungalow or temple in its architecture, for it seemed to be a mixture of both.

You figured this was where the stranger lived, and so began making your way up there. You were admittedly driven by the fact it sounded like his breath was growing harsher against your ears and it felt like he was growing heavier against your shoulders. You needed to get him sitting and resting, because if he'd really been poisoned in some way then all of this movement definitely wasn't good for him.

The door slid open with ease once you'd arrived in front of it, and you were greeted with a surprisingly open and spacious area. A kitchen to one side, cushions, a desk and table to the other; up the back of the room sat several doors, similar to the one you'd just passed through and the one that had laid at the end of the tunnel. On the other side of the cushions were more sliding doors, which you had a feeling lead to a balcony of sorts.

"How does this whole area fit on the very top of the mountain," you muttered to yourself as you helped the two of you to the door that man had pointed to; your limbs were sore, so sore, a deep ache riding in your bones, and you feared exactly what pain you were going to wake up to tomorrow.

"The peak of the mountain is only an illusion," the male managed to pant in response, surprising you once more with an answer you hadn't really been expecting.

"I..." you swallowed, squinting as your brain tried to wrap around that titbit. Winged men, melting rock, a meadow on the peak of the mountain... wasn't this too much, even for your brain to have come up with? This was awfully elaborate and detailed for a fever dream. You refused to consider the alternative, for the sake of your sanity.

Once you reached the room he'd indicated and entered, you had to pause for a moment to take in the sight that greeted you. Considering how clean and well-kept the other parts of his home had been, you'd been expecting the same in here— you had been wrong, however. The floor might have been clean, as well as the table to the side, but the bed that was kept only a foot or so off the floor was another story. Plush cushioning and thick, soft blankets lined the mattress, situated in such a way that they oddly reminded you of a nest— the odd garment of clothing was draped into the structure and you might have been slightly impressed if you weren't so focused on finding somewhere to sit him.

The male was quick to redirect your attention, and you noticed with a slight sense of surprise that his cheeks had reddened at what you'd seen.

"In here," he rasped, straining to lead you. "The washroom."

Getting in and out through the other doorways with his massive wings in tow had been a task and a half, a somewhat difficult ordeal, but you'd managed it well until now— it was as the two of you entered into this room that his wounded wing finally succumbed to the inevitable and banged against the doorway. He yelped sharply, the sound so wrought with pain that you felt it tug at your own heartstrings, and flinched away from the sensation, into you. His other wing nearly flew out to compensate for the sudden shift in balance, but you managed to keep the two of you upright enough to prevent it from doing that.

"Shit, are you okay?" you asked, pressing a hand to his chest without thinking to keep him stable. His heart was racing beneath your palm, breathing ragged and eyes pinched shut.

"I've never felt such pain before," he ground out, eyes opening to reveal a particular glisten that only came from budding tears. "Nothing like this has ever happened to me— to my wings."

You made a soft noise of sympathy, guiding him more carefully into the room he wanted. You stopped for a moment to admire it, stepping carefully down the steps. The floor of this room sunk several feet into the ground, while the ceiling remained the same height, effectively making the room bigger than those in the rest of the structure, albeit in a different way. The floor was a mix of wood and stone, and your eyes swept over a basin, stool, small table, and pile of soft-looking fabric you assumed to be towels, before they fell upon a bath that was built into the ground in the corner of the room, extending above the floor a good foot and a half. It looked deep, water trickling constantly from an opening in the wall, and you grabbed the stool before making your way over. You wondered how it didn't overflow, but figured it probably had an outlet that allowed the water to filter out at the same rate it poured in to keep it the same level. The room was illuminated by soft lanterns hung in each corner, and you were grateful for their presence since your hands weren't exactly free at the moment.

You shifted towards what you presumed to be the bath, placing the stool down before it and easing the bird-man down— the wall of the bath was a bit higher, so you'd be sitting on that instead. The male let out a groan as he seated himself completely, the sound a mixture between relieved and pained.

You were quick to stand, shaking your limbs out; it was time to get down to business.

"What exactly happened?" you started, keeping your expression soft. "Where are you hurt? You mentioned poison?"

The male coughed, dark cocoa eyes meeting yours and rendering you breathless for the second time this night. "They shot at me with crossbows," he answered, hand pressed against his chest and the other clutching his thigh, dark material of his clothes bunching beneath his grip. "I don't think they were locals, because no one here uses those metals. It burns."

"Metals?" you echoed, head tilting as something familiar stirred in your memory. "... do heavy metals like lead and copper poison you?"

The male seemed surprised at your knowledge, nodding slowly. "Yes, how did you...?"

"I'm a vet," you answered quickly, before backtracking at the blank look he displayed. "Animal doctor. I know because birds are often poisoned by things like heavy metals."

His cheeks seemed to flush at your words, but he didn't acknowledge it. You couldn't help but wonder what you'd said that had prompted such a response.

"I have materials in the chest beneath the basin," he said, and you turned in surprise to see the chest he'd mentioned that you hadn't even seen before in your first sweep of the room. You moved over and opened it as he continued to give you instructions. "I'll need the solution in the small blue vial. Hopefully it will work for this."

You retrieved the container in question and quickly moved back over to the male, placing it gently into his outstretched hand. Your gaze swept over him as he pulled the cork from the vial and downed its contents, the new lighting allowing you to see more of him than you had been able to before. He was tall, as you'd noticed initially, and the large, looming wings that stemmed from his back had sleek raven feathers that were the same inky shade as the thick locks that curled across his forehead. His clothes looked more like robes, with layers of material greeting your eyes. The colours were consistently dark though, bouncing between black and dark blues and greys. You thought the bold contrast, especially against his honey skin, suited him nicely.

Luckily for you, he didn't seem to notice the way your stare had swept entirely over his form, too busy wincing at the flavour the solution had left on his tongue. He squirmed, shuddering as its effects began to kick in, and allowed his posture to droop a little bit more. It struck you suddenly that he was placing a lot of trust in you right now, leaving his defences incredibly low considering the ordeal that had allegedly landed him in this situation in the first place.

“Was that for the poison?” you queried, giving him a moment to collect himself; he jumped at the sound of your voice, as though he’d forgotten you were there for a moment. His wide eyes flew to where you stood.

“Ah, yes,” he answered, somewhat awkwardly. He cleared his throat, face scrunching presumably at the discomfort he was feeling from the poison and his wing, as well as whatever he’d just ingested. “It will nullify what it can and flush out the rest. It’s easier to treat than…”

“Your wing?” you finished for him, offering a small smile when he nodded and shifted a bit in discomfort. “I can help with that, I’ve mended broken wings before.”

Once more, the male seemed taken aback by your knowledge and area of expertise. He didn’t speak for a moment and you took his silence as acquiescence to your offer. Turning back to the chest beneath the basin, you rooted around for some bandages, wrap and gauze. You peered inside, searching for anything else that could be useful, and made a pleasantly surprised noise as your fingers wrapped around a jar and pulled it out.

"Honey," you read the messy cursive along the side. "Perfect."

The male was sending you a curious look as you turned back around with the items in hand, and you sent him a smile as you made your way back over.

"Is it only your wing that's wounded?" you queried, glancing over his body once more but unable to tell if he had any other wounds due to the fabric covering him.

The male nodded, cheeks warmed, his gaze averting from you only to flicker back not long after. He was acting like a shy teenage boy that had invited a girl into his room for the first time, and you had to fight back a giggle at the thought.

"I managed to dodge most of their arrows," he answered, lifting his arm— your gaze moved to his side where there was a gap in the cloth that had been disguised by his bicep and elbow. "But one got me in my side, and the end snapped off when I fell— the arrows grazed my wings but it was the tumble that broke one."

You made a sound of acknowledgement, moving so that you were behind him and seated on the edge of the bath. You placed the items on the floor by your feet, rubbing your hands together before dipping them into the water; it was perfect room temperature and almost felt as though it wasn't there at all as it dripped from your fingers.

"Okay, I'll sort your wing out first then we can take a look at that arrow wound," you said, since he didn't display anything more than discomfort you figured it hadn't gone that deep and you could afford to wait a little more. Besides, it seemed like his wing was causing him the most pain. You had to pause for a moment, baffled that was an actual thought that had just run through your head. No, it was fine— this was just a fever dream, it's fine.

"That would be good," the male said, sounding just as awkward as his posture indicated he felt. "... Thank you, human, for helping me."

You waved your hand dismissively despite the fact he couldn't see. "It's no problem, it's in my nature to help, I guess. Is it okay if I touch your wings?"

You knew you'd have to do it anyway to fix it, but it felt oddly rude to just touch his wings without asking; they were so majestic, so beautiful and surreal it felt like it would be too intimate of an action to perform without his consent. At his nod you allowed your hands to settle gently on the affected limb, the feathers brushing against your skin like liquid silk. You caught the shiver that rolled down his spine at your careful touch and hoped that it wasn't one of pain. You stood up, knowing you needed to identify the location of the break you suspected to be there. Your gaze caught on the scraps of material around his shoulders and back that were blocking your touch a little.

"Can you take off your shirt— uh, your robes? It'll make it easier for me to see your wing and find the break," you said, cheeks heating slightly in embarrassment. The process and actions were familiar to you, but the scenario was entirely different— you'd never tended to a bird that had a human body or that had a human face as attractive as this.

The male sputtered, attempting a response before merely giving up and allowing his head to dip in a nod. You released his wing, watching as he slipped the material from his upper half with practiced ease. The cloth moved like liquid across his shoulders, gleaming slightly in the lantern light in a way that reminded you of fine silk and satin. It didn't take long before his shoulders and back were bared to you, with the exception of the areas his wings blocked off. You murmured a thanks before returning to the task you'd previously begun, fingers sinking into the soft, silky down of his wing once more. Another shiver greeted you at the motion but you tried to ignore it for both your sakes.

Carefully, you grasped the wing and extended it slightly so it wasn't so folded— the male let out a soft hiss at the motion but didn't stop you, understanding it was necessary. It was at this moment you realised he was still very much a stranger and here you were, preparing to help bandage his broken wing and then fish out the tip of an arrow from his side. You didn't even know his name!

"By the way," you started, fingers feeling softly along the bone at the upper portion of his wing for the source of the break; you had a feeling it would be on the inner side, closer to his back. "Who are you? What are you?"

The male started a little, letting out a sharp, pained gasp when you prodded a certain area. "Ah, there, I think it's there," he took a moment to collect himself before continuing, with you easing your fingers off the painful area as he did. "And I'm... My name is Namjoon. I'm the deity that resides upon this mountain peak and protects the island's inhabitants."

You let out a soft, unintentional whistle at his words. This was awfully intricate and tied into reality for a fever dream, but you didn't want to consider the alternative and so just decided to go with it, for your brain's sake. It didn't hit you until a few moments later that if what he said was true, you were currently touching the wings and fixing up the wounds of the local deity— the being that the islanders revered and paid their respects to for protection. You didn't really know how to process that revelation and decided to put it on the backburner.

"That's, uh... neat," you shuffled back a little, surveying his wing; the feathers were still ruffled and bloodied in some places, something you'd need to take care of before wrapping it. "Is it okay if I clean your wing and fix the feathers a little? I don't want it to be uncomfortable and crusty when I wrap it."

The male, Namjoon, nodded his consent, and to your surprise he shifted and held out a washcloth. Where had that come from? You decided not to think too much about it. Taking it from his grasp, you wet it in the bath behind you before wringing it out, speaking up again as you did so, "My name is y/n."

You thought you heard him repeat your name softly to himself, but couldn't be sure. Once most of the water was wrung from the cloth, you brought it gently to the feathers across the massive expanse of his wing that were covered in drying blood and began to wipe them clean as carefully as you could. You succeeded for the most part, only eliciting the occasional shiver and soft whimper. Most of the areas that had blood you assumed to have either healed or just been from broken feathers or minor nicks in the skin, since there weren't any visible wounds when you checked over them. You put it down to some god-like healing ability he probably had.

Your fingers ran gently through the feathers as you went, nudging them softly back into place and making the wing appear much sleeker and more streamlined, as you presumed it was supposed to look. With his feathers clean and orderly, it made it that much more obvious where the break was and you placed the cloth down with a hum.

“Well, the good news is that the bone isn’t sticking out so it’s not as badly broken as it could be,” you said, returning your hands to the affected area ever so gently, trying to discern what kind of break it was and if there was only one or more; you winced at the sharp intake of breath on his end that resulted from your touch on the tender skin. “And I think, from what I can tell, that there’s only one break— it doesn’t seem to be too jostled so I won’t have to move it back in place. I think it should be okay if I just wrap it. There is a cut that I presume is from an arrow near it though, so I’ll treat that too.”

Namjoon nodded, turning to glance over his shoulder as you reached for the honey, eyes caught on watching the firm muscles shift beneath the smooth skin of his back as he moved. His wings fluttered softly, the left one more so than the right, as he adjusted himself and you found the gesture oddly endearing.

He didn’t talk much as you set about tending to his wounds, carefully setting and wrapping his wing so it didn’t move too much and allowed for optimal healing. You wondered why he was so quiet before you remembered he’d been chased through the forest and poisoned a little, so was probably understandably exhausted. You found your own fatigue catching up to you now, as you wound the gauze around his wing a final time, your limbs feeling as though they weighed more and more with each motion you had them conduct. An ache was settling deep in your bones, and your eyes began to burn, tired brain urging you to close them and rest. It had been a long day, for the both of you.

By the time you’d managed to fix up his wing, the cut and the wound on his side, the two of you were just about ready to fall asleep where you sat. With somewhat wobbly legs, you rose and helped him up, almost dragging him back to the room you’d come through to get here. You were extra mindful of his wings now, and they fluttered softly as he walked, the unwounded one curving slightly to drape around his side like a cloak while the other remained constrained within your bindings. When he reached his bed you eased him down with a groan from the both of you, his eyes closing as he went down. By the time he’d flopped onto his stomach completely, he was out. In all honesty, you weren’t far behind. You slid to the floor beside the bed, meaning to take only a moment’s rest before shifting to somewhere more opportune, but once you were down it was all over from there. Your lids fluttered clothes and within seconds you were well on your way to the land of dreams.

Could you dream in the midst of a fever dream? You supposed you’d find out.

x x x x x x x x

The first thing you thought when you woke up was, holy fuck did your neck hurt. Blinking awake and wincing at the acute pain in your neck from the barest movement, it didn’t take you long to realise you’d fallen asleep sitting against the bed, which was no doubt the cause of your pain. Having said that, an attempt to sit up had you realising with a groan that the pain you’d expected from yesterday’s activities had very much arrived. Your thighs, calves— hell, even your shoulders, were all tight and sore. You’d need to do some serious stretching later; maybe you could get Yeri, or even Irene to help you—

You paused, the thought triggering a certain set of memories that were quick to flood your mind. The forest, Minhyuk disappearing, the winged man who was apparently a deity and lived on the top of this mountain. Your head was reeling as you attempted to reign your focus back in— had all that really happened? Your gut twisted in an answer of its own, while your mind vehemently denied the possibility. How could it have happened? There was no way, absolutely no way…

Blinking, you allowed your gaze to finally wander, sweeping over your surroundings. A room that seemed oddly familiar, but felt different than you’d expected. It took a second for the reason to hit you; this wasn’t your hotel room. Something akin to panic rose within you, your body lurching into a sitting position despite the resulting pain that throbbed in your limbs. No, this wasn’t your hotel room, this was the room that belonged to the bird-man-deity, Namjoon, in your dream. But that prompted the question; had it really been a dream at all, or were you still currently in the middle of it. It didn’t feel like a dream, but you didn’t know how else to explain the memories you had and the things you’d seen…

You couldn’t help but think that Minhyuk would have handled this much better than you.

Your admittedly chaotic thoughts were interrupted by a soft sound, from outside the room you were currently in, and a pained turn of your head had you realising belatedly that the bed you were leaning against was currently empty. Which begged the question…

Where was the bird-man?

With much effort and sheer force of will, you managed to pull yourself to your feet, the bed admittedly playing a large supporting role in the feat. It hurt a little to move your legs but it was fine, nothing you couldn’t really handle. You suspected that as soon as you moved more and got to stretch them it would ease the pain somewhat.

The shuffle out of the room and in the direction of where you’d heard the noise come from was a surprisingly quiet affair, and that meant that when you froze at the entrance to the kitchen its occupant didn’t notice your presence.

Namjoon, as you recalled he’d introduced himself, was fiddling with something, a pot from what you could glimpse, and gently throwing some food items inside. You sniffed, fighting a soft moan at the enticing scent and slapping a hand quietly to your stomach when it roiled in hunger. Surprisingly, the male still didn’t notice you— you didn’t doubt the large, inky wings played a role in obscuring you from his vision. Subconsciously, your eyes strayed to analyse your handiwork; the bandage and gauze was holding up well, the wing not looking like it was sitting too uncomfortably or too restricted. You felt a pang of pride in your chest. All those hours of prac had come in handy.

You didn’t get to stroke your own ego for very long though, because a few moments later and the male was turning. Your breath caught in your throat, since you weren’t ready at all — you hadn’t even thought of what you were going to say yet— and you might have let out a panicked yelp did he not beat you to it. As he turned, his wings shifted, ruffling slightly, and the bandaged one didn’t cause any problems but the unrestricted one decided it was time to stretch. It extended as he turned, succeeding thoroughly in knocking a large array of items from the bench. Your mouth dropped open, hand extended to help, as the winged man before you whirled around and scrambled to catch the items; he ended up knocking more things down in the process.

“Gods,” you heard him mumbling under his breath. “This is the worst. I haven’t had to have my wings out constantly in so long— this house is not wing friendly.”

Unable to hold it back at the hilarity of the entire scene before you, a snort slipped from you before you could stop it. The male shot upright, back ramrod straight and eyes wide as they found you, and once more his wings proved to be too large and clumsy for the space he was occupying as a bowl went tumbling from the counter and hurtled towards the floor.

You were aware enough of the situation at this point that you could lurch forward and catch it in time, the cool, smooth stone nearly slipping from your fingers before you grasped it securely. The male was gaping at you, his own large hands outstretched in the ghost of his belated attempt to catch the bowl as he fumbled for something to say.

“I, ah— you’re up,” was all he managed, face flushing. You’d noticed he was a little awkward, but if anything it was kind of endearing. “I was making something for the pain— mine and yours. Your limbs are sore, no doubt?”

You nodded, slightly taken aback at the fact he knew you were one big walking ache right now.

The male hummed, having confirmed his suspicions. He turned slowly back to the pot that had miraculously managed to stay in one piece on the stove above a flame. From what you could tell it was some sort of stew, and the mere thought even without the smell beginning to brush your nostrils was enough to have you salivating slightly.

"It is almost done," he spoke once more, the low register of his voice bringing a slight flush across your cheeks as it brushed your ears through the silence. You sincerely hoped your face didn't betray your state of fluster. His gaze flickered to the floor for a moment, before continuing up to meet your own; the cocoa and amber mix of his iris was enough to make your heart flutter momentarily, the sunlight filtering through the windows illuminating them so prettily you almost let out a sigh in appreciation. "I have to apologise in advance; I'm not a very good cook."

You couldn't help but crack a smile at that. "I'm sure you're an excellent cook," you said, a sheepish laugh escaping you as your stomach growled in anticipation. "But I'm so hungry that I'd eat anything you put in front of me without complaint anyway."

Namjoon allowed a smile of his own to spread across his face at your words, cheeks flushing just enough to bring your attention to the dimples now making their home there. His head tilted and his expression shifted as something crossed his mind.

"I'll hope for both of our sakes that it's at least edible then," he mused, dark lashes fluttering as he peered at you as though he was trying to decipher something. It took him a few seconds to continue, "You know... you're quite nice. Humans possess such duality, it's quite startling."

It took you a moment to realise that he wasn't making a comment solely on your character, but on your kindness compared to the cruelty of the humans that had shot at him for his wings. You nodded, since he was right. Humanity was multi-faceted in that way, and a lot of the faces you wished to never see.

"You're right," you responded after a moment, the ghost of a smile tugging your lips. "A large portion of humanity is... yeah."

Despite your inability to find the word you wanted, Namjoon seemed to understand you just fine. He hummed, before his nose wrinkled and he turned quickly back to the pot; your heart nearly leapt from your chest as his wing narrowly missed a jar on the way.

"Ah, it's ready," he murmured, whether to himself or the both of you, you didn't know. He turned though, taking one bowl from the bench and holding his hand out to you— you hadn't even realised you'd still been holding the bowl you caught, and hurried to pass it to him with a warm face. He sent you a thankful smile and went about serving the stew. "Here you go, eat up. I apologise again if it's not that great in taste, but it should help with the pain and healing of your muscles."

You took the bowl and spoon when offered to you, and followed the male to sit on the floor at the table. Contrary to what he insisted, you found the second the first mouthful graced your tongue that it was delicious. You were quick to tell him so, and the winged deity had spent the remainder of the meal with a shy smile and flushed cheeks. You were quick to devour your portion, resisting the urge to go for seconds since you knew that was your tongue talking and not your stomach which, admittedly, was quite full.

After thanking him profusely for the meal, your attention was drawn back to his wounds and the bandages covering them, courtesy of yourself. He might have been able to treat the one on his side himself, as he seemed quite capable of healing himself somewhat if his decent recovery from the metal poisoning was anything to go by, but since you were already intent on changing the wrap on his wing you may as well change them all while you were at it. The male blushed when you mentioned it, and after placing your bowls back in the kitchen area moved over to the other side of the large, open space with cushions; the long, raven feathers at the bottom of his wings brushed the floor heavily when he sat, and you were careful not to step or sit on them when you returned after getting more materials from the washroom.

"So," you began as your fingers grasped the material of the bandage and tugged it loose gently. The male flinched slightly, but didn't let out a noise besides the hum of acknowledgement he made at your speech. "If you're a deity... shouldn't you have, like, super quick healing?"

The winged man seated before you snorted softly, and you refused the blush that tried to colour your cheeks. His wings shuffled, adjusting softly, before they settled and allowed you to continue your movements. His voice was slightly thick and strained as he spoke, and you gathered that his wings, aside from being hurt, were probably a very sensitive area for him. You did your best to be careful.

"I do," he answered you, the barest hints of amusement curling in his tone. "But being poisoned... slows it down a fair bit. I'm not sure how long it will take for my side to heal and my wing to mend after being poisoned like that."

You hummed in understanding, pondering what to say next when he shifted awkwardly and continued.

"And... about that," you heard him gulp, and a mixture of curiosity and trepidation fluttered within you. He sounded slightly regretful as he spoke, "I'm not sure if you're aware, but when you agreed to help me last night, you entered a deal."

Your hands stilled in their movements, mind blank for a moment before kicking back into gear. Actually, considering what he was... that made sense. You got the feeling his definition of a deal was a little more serious than yours. You let out your breath at once, an oddly calm feeling of acceptance washing over you.

"What does a deal entail, when it is made with you?" you asked, fingers returning to their previous tasks. Namjoon let out a slightly surprised noise and you presumed it was because of the way you'd worded the question.

"In essence, we are both bound to fulfil our ends of the deal," he responded, toned back shifting as he shivered slightly. "So you are to 'help' me as you've agreed, and I am to guide you from the mountain once your end is complete. I've not ever been faced with the consequences of breaking a deal like this, but I have heard from fellow deities that it is not... pleasant."

You hummed softly to acknowledge you'd heard him, while allowing the words to soak in. So really, what he was telling you was that you were stuck her 'helping' him, which in this case you took to mean healing him, until he was as good as before, at which point he would guide you down the mountain and back to your hotel. The hotel where your friends were, probably worried sick about you at this point. A sudden, alarming thought rose to the forefront of your mind at that realisation.

"My friends," you started, clearing your throat when you voice caught slightly in your throat. "They're back in the village at the bottom of the mountain. I'm worried about one of them, he split from me in the dark just before I found you."

"What is his name?" you were surprised at the question, but answered nonetheless. A few moments of silence echoed after you supplied Minhyuk's name, Namjoon taking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "He is safe, do not worry. No one on this island has come to any harm in the past day— I don't sense him on the mountain or in the forest."

You let out a breath of relief you hadn't even realised you'd been holding, hands resuming their distracted grooming of his feathers before you applied the next wrap. "Can I..."

You didn't need to finish for him to know what you meant. He was apologetic when he next spoke, "I do not think the garden walls will let you pass until your end is fulfilled."

Disappointment was fresh in your lungs, but you understood. Plus, a small part of you was actually relieved— you hated leaving things half done, and at least now you'd know for sure how he healed.

You let out a sigh, hating how dramatic it sounded. "That's fine. I did agree to help, and I'll be glad to know you're healing."

You couldn't see his face, but from the way the tips of his ears began to burn pink you guessed that your words had made him blush. The thought made a soft smile tug your lips.

Surprisingly, you didn't really mind the idea of being here with the winged man until he was completely healed. Even more surprisingly, you could have sworn a small part of you was even looking forward to it.

— masterlist | moodboard || un | deux

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journeysintowebcomics · 5 years

Text

Worm Liveblog #105

UPDATE 105: Following the Trail

Last time Skitter tried to arrange her territory to be on autopilot for a few days, and spent the night with Grue. Romance and movies! So let’s continue – or more like let’s go into an interlude. This is the best possible time for one, as this is one of those rare moments of respite. Onwards!

From a glance at the first few chapters, it’s not clear who the narrator is. All I seem to know is that it’s male and has prosthetics. May be a hero. The setting seems to be medical, possibly a hospital? A lot of people lost loved ones, ‘new parents’ are mentioned, and a window that shows where newly born babies are at is now covered and marked with police tape. All these facts show quite the grim picture. Something horrible must have happened.

Honestly? The fact babies are involved kind of makes this a tad hard for me to read. I like babies, so...this is pretty tough for me. Better truck on, though.

This guy is showing some sympathy towards people, or at least righteous outrage at the situation. I was sympathizing with this person until...

He saw two women embracing one another, eyes red, staring at him as he passed through the last of the gathered crowd. They were hoping for the impossible, willing it. But bringing their child back wasn’t in his hands. The best he could manage would be revenge. Or justice. The line between the two got pretty damned thin at times like this.

That’s a bit of dangerous thinking. I can’t say I disagree, but partaking in revenge on behalf of other people is likely to go so wrong.

Oh, it’s Defiant! No wonder he was having such thoughts. I bet before he attacked Leviathan and put all those villains’ lives in danger he thought of something similar. Either way, he’s here, in a small town that isn’t Brockton Bay, where something very bad must have happened. I wonder where Dragon is.

There’s more than one scene of the crime in this place. The nursery here is only one, and thankfully, Defiant doesn’t see any value in checking it further. Instead he asks in checking the others. Thank goodness, I’ll be able to read this interlude without feeling a punch to the gut.

Wordlessly, she turned and led him to the stairwell. He noted the gouges on the walls. Two or three inches deep, with blood spatters following each. Plastic had been taped down over each individual mark and spatter. Evidence cards were stuck next to each. He could guess the culprit. Jack.

Oh, the Slaughterhouse Nine are here! I should have guessed they had gone through here, what with Defiant and Dragon trying to catch up them. Pretty low of them to be attacking a hospital, but it fits their purpose of hurting as much as possible.

This is a small town, so it only has two heroes and one villainess. None of them sound familiar, although I must say I like the moniker ‘Damsel of Distress’. It’s long, but it’s kind of bombastic. She can make some rather chaotic storms she can’t control, which is why she hasn’t been able to be a worthwhile threat, I guess.

“The Slaughterhouse Nine are recruiting. Their numbers are down, and they’ll be looking for a quantity of new members more than they’re looking for quality. At least until they’re stable enough that they can afford to be picky. Once they can, they’ll replace the weakest recruits with better ones. I don’t want them to get that far.”

“I understand. But would they want her? Damsel of Distress? Her lack of control over her power holds her back. I won’t say she isn’t a problem, but she’s never been a priority threat to anyone.”

“She’s a heavy hitter. They can give her control, or they can use that lack of control.”

I can’t imagine them having this Damsel of Distress among them, even if they’re sorely lacking in numbers. Is she malicious? Can she be broken? Possibly, but that aside, what use can they have to her power? Just...cause chaos inside a city? It’s not the deadliest power ever. True, it can cause situations where death is possible, but it’s not like killing is her intent, is it? So yeah, I think it’s more likely the Slaughterhouse Nine were just passing by and attacked this hospital for fun.

True, maybe they came to this town to look for one of the two heroes, or both. They wouldn’t try to recruit a hero unless that hero has already done something unsavory or they know they can break the hero. Armsmaster and Panacea proved that. Still, I suspect if he considered maybe they’re looking for the heroes, Defiant would think something about it right now, yet he isn’t. I don’t think he believes that’s plausible.

Hookwolf was over here, there’s a whole lot of blood and dismembered body parts. Say, how is Hookwolf? Last I checked he wasn’t entirely into being part of the Slaughterhouse Nine and was forced to come along, I don’t remember exactly how but now he’s there. Anyway, while Hookwolf killed over here, Jack Slash and Manton’s invincible projection moved somewhere else. They all did start with the nursery first, attacking what would cause the most horror. I really don’t want to think about how things are like in there, the clean-up crew are going to have the worst task in their careers.

It seems the Slaughterhouse Nine managed to control enough information for nobody to be able to report what exactly was happening in the hospital, so when the police officers arrived none of them was prepared for a global deadly threat like the Slaughterhouse Nine. Did the heroes come? I sure hope so.

The sheriff in charge of this town is understandably distraught at all this but refuses to let it show, the problem is that talking about it threatens to make the dam burst. Defiant isn’t sure what to say, so Dragon lends a hand.

“Tell her it’s not her fault,” Dragon spoke in his ear.

“It’s not your fault,” he told the sheriff. “They planned it this way. I would guess they controlled the information that was reported to your station to keep you in the dark, then would have had Hookwolf sitting in the lobby in his human state, indistinguishable from anyone else that was waiting for a turn.”

There’s something kind of ironic about the AI having to give advice about how to empathize and tactful in this kind of situations. Defiant is capable of sympathy, but he’s not really that good at letting it show. With the right nudge, his words are actually good, and when he accidentally starts diverging and talking about unrelated stuff, Dragon sets him back on track. Golly, these two are really made one for the other.

The sheriff asks for reassurance, that they will be able to track the Slaughterhouse Nine and make them pay. Sadly, no reassurance is made. Maybe it was the right move, it sure would be quite tragic if she got it and then later she read Defiant was killed by the Slaughterhouse Nine – or worse, recruited. To change the topic, Defiant goes into forensic mode and examines the place.

His retelling of what happened seems to make sense. Hookwolf waited until the attacks started, the hospital security system told everyone to stay put and calm. That’s when he attacked, he cut off the escape route and herded everyone into one spot before killing them. Bam. What does this all tell you, Defiant, master forensic analyst?

“Hookwolf was largely content doing what he was doing in Brockton Bay. He viewed himself as a warrior, a general, and there was a degree of honor in what he did. He wasn’t honorable, but he followed a code. The person who nominated him for the group, Shatterbird, is no longer a member. So why did he join? Our working assumption was that there were threats on some level, extortion. But he’s shifting focus too quickly. Adopting a new mindset. It’s possible Jack Slash convinced him in another way.”

“Or he’s under their control,” Dragon said, communicating over their personal channel.

“…Or he’s being coerced,” Defiant said, for the sheriff’s benefit. “An implant, something that’s turned him into a puppet.”

Nice! That’s actually correct! Now I remember that yeah, Hookwolf is under the Slaughterhouse Nine’s control. Perhaps they’ll do the same to villains or heroes they want to bring along? Either way, now that Defiant and Dragon have this knowledge, it should be useful for them in some manner. With some luck they can make it so Hookwolf isn’t controlled anymore, but that’s unlikely. Still, it’s good information to have!

The sheriff’s deputy was the last to die and he fought bravely. Rest in peace, pal. Examining the deputy’s body makes Defiant realize Hookwolf was in control of his actions, so...I guess if there’s some control on him he’s starting to follow the impulses and actions by his own will? Pretty scary, that.

What’s more, I think Jack Slash is grooming him. The general and the cutthroat, playing off one another, educating each other in their respective disciplines, so to speak. Jack’s going to want to keep this interplay going, maintain Hookwolf’s interest and keep him from getting restless.

So they may attack again, just to keep Hookwolf into the team and get him more and more used to their style of carnage. There are two other towns nearby, perhaps they’ll attack over there? With their next destination defined, Defiant goes outside, planning to join Dragon on checking the resident villainess and move on. Hmmmm...maybe this attack on the hospital was purely for Hookwolf’s benefit, instead of going to recruit this Damsel of Distress person. She just doesn’t sound worth going anywhere for.

The reason why Defiant says Hookwolf was in control of his actions is because he spent a few minutes there, watching the deputy die. The deputy had fought back, so Hookwolf enjoyed killing the closest thing there was to a warrior of his caliber. Basically Defiant was right: Jack Slash is slowly pushing Hookwolf closer to the kind of killer they want him to be, and although Hookwolf was being controlled at first, now he’s with them willingly, seems to me. Right.

“I don’t like it when you try to get into their heads like that.”

“We have to be proactive. Predict. Get ahead of them, so we can stop them before they attack the next hospital, the next neighborhood or school. That means figuring out what they’re thinking.”

I fully agree with Defiant on this one. Like it or not, this kind of thoughts are going to be necessary to be able to follow the Slaughterhouse Nine and predict where they’ll attack next. Besides, Defiant is rather good at it, he’s clever and can make good deductions. Too bad he wasn’t able to do such things when he was dealing with Taylor back when she wasn’t really into being a part of the Undersiders. That would have been a good time for your psychological analysis, Defiant, seriously.

Ah, Defiant is moving by using a suit made with Dragon. It wasn’t in Brockton Bay, so Dragon really was just leaving spares or secondary suits in that city. I wonder what kind of abilities this Uther suit has, or perhaps it’s only for transportation? Either way, this one is specially made for Defiant, so it’s unlikely it’ll ever attack the Undersiders unless Defiant feels like going back to Brockton Bay to fight them – which isn’t really unlikely once the Slaughterhouse Nine have been dealt with.

I like that Defiant is admitting he would have screwed up his conversation with the sheriff if Dragon hadn’t been whispering advice to his ear. Goodness, somehow Defiant is turning into a likable character, who’d have thought?

“Any notice on Damsel?”

“Seems like we’re too late. They got her.”

His heart sank. “Got her in the sense that she’s dead, or got her in the literal sense?”

“The latter.”

“Fuck!” One more to contend with. He remembered who he was talking to. “Sorry.”

Seriously? Wow, they either saw something in her I didn’t, or they’re really desperate for something to fill their numbers. Now that I think about it, Damsel of Distress had tried a few times to make herself more known by going to other cities, being a part of the Slaughterhouse Nine is a chance for notoriety. She may have gone willingly. Still, there’s something mighty disappointing about taking her into the team.

Why are you so concerned about saying ‘fuck’ in response to that, Defiant, the line before what I pasted literally said ‘I would have fucked that up’. Kind of late for worrying about your language.

The next town to visit has been defined, and they get on the way, talking in the meantime and wishing they had fought the Slaughterhouse Nine before, in Brockton Bay.

They wouldn’t be able to do this for long. They were only able to track the Nine like this because their quarry was unaware. It would only get harder, with Jack obfuscating the group’s movements, with traps and misdirection, a contest of second guessing, trying to think more steps ahead.

And all that could fill a story of its own. It’s a shame Defiant and Dragon’s pursuit of the Slaughterhouse Nine is a subplot in Worm, because it has enough meat and potential to be the main plot of a different story. It’s a bit of wasted potential, really.

Ah, sounds like this all is happening shortly after the Undersiders and Travelers defeated the suits. Defiant is focusing on the fact the suits were defeated and worries that may mean they won’t be enough to fight the Slaughterhouse Nine, Dragon isn’t too worried because it was all due to the AI being suboptimal. I don’t know, I feel all those suits would have a chance against the Slaughterhouse Nine if they attack at once. The only big problem I can think of is Manton’s invincible projection. That suit that was fighting Heckpuppy? It would be great against Hookwolf, what with using metal to regenerate itself, for example.

To try to solve that, Defiant offers to try to make some loopholes into Dragon’s restrictions but is afraid he’ll screw up – reasonable fear, it’d be a real shame if he somehow broke Dragon. Better to avoid that.

Oh my gooooodness, they’re definitely an item! I’m strangely pleased about this, this is great. I hope they manage to stay and work together for a good while! Seems to me Defiant trusts Dragon unconditionally, this is great, and Dragon even sounds embarrassed when talking to him. I love this, seriously, this is fantastic. Is Dragon and Defiant a pairing the readers like? I hope so!

His thoughts even sound genuinely fond of her, it’s like they complement each other. While he works on fixing the prosthesis on his legs he thinks about Dragon’s quirks and how her ways of emulating people aren’t perfect and may come intimidating or intense, but he likes it. I suspect that’s part of the reason why Dragon likes him, because he doesn’t mind at all and even understands her.

While he works on her programming, she checks his adjustment to the prosthesis, criticizing them and pointing out flaws, while Defiant steps further and further away from having flesh. To point that out, Dragon plans to use a game they made up for testing sensitivity, but it instead turning into physical pleasure. Wow, this relationship really skyrocketed ever since they left Brockton Bay. How long ago was that? Like two weeks ago?

There’s something a tad unnerving about Defiant looking at the programming and having to ask her to perform a specific action while he does so. It’s like he’s messing with her brain – which is pretty much what he said he was trying to do, yeah, but it’s still kind of unnerving.

Conversationally, he asked her, “The Undersiders are still holding the territory they did, then?”

“They kidnapped the Director long enough to get her to order the A.I. to stand down, got away from one altercation, then used some combination of Tattletale’s power and the Director’s knowledge to figure out that they could slow me down by knocking out cell towers. As far as I know, they’re in a better position than they were.”

Great! They don’t know Tattletale got that information with the power of money and all the info she got from that group that fights Dragon. Excellent. It’s not that relevant or important of a tidbit to keep away from them, but it’s good that the heroes have some misinformation.

Defiant wishes he could go and fight them, but there are bigger fishes to fry right now. Does that mean I can expect him to go fight the Undersiders once they defeat the Slaughterhouse Nine – or try to defeat them, at least? Because I’d be looking forward to that!

“And maybe I was too harsh in my judgement of Skitter. I was angry at her, I was tired, maybe that led me to label her with some malice she didn’t have. In retrospect, yes, she made the decisions she did, but she had reasons for doing what she did.”

“In the same way you did.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that.”

She’s right, it really is similar to what Armsmaster did. Skitter is all about using unsavory methods to get what she thinks is right. Armsmaster did the same, with more bloodshed. They’re not exactly the same, but Skitter is sloooowly reaching that same level – and that’s something I’m not sure I’m pleased about, honestly. While it’s interesting to see her sliding towards such methods, part of what I liked of Skitter was that she was trying to hold onto her moral code and try not to be as horrible as she could be. If that’s not part of her character anymore...well, it’s like she’ll lose part of her appeal.

Something about the code gets Defiant’s attention. He marks a few areas and asks for notes about the code, about the author’s ways of working. Huh. I wonder what’s going on that Defiant didn’t expect to see. I’m not sure what he’s seeing that links his own power – his tinker power, I imagine – to what he’s seeing in Dragon’s AI.

They have arrived to the town where the Slaughterhouse Nine may be at! Yet Defiant is busy focusing on the code, so there must be something really significant going on. He asks for the code and the information in intervals of four years. How old is Dragon? Either way, he thinks he noticed what’s going on.

You’re a parahuman. I don’t have time to hunt for it now, but at some point between now and a few years after your creation, you had a trigger event.

Wow, that’s indeed incredibly significant. How can an AI have a trigger event? Was it something the creator programmed, somehow? Did Dragon have that vision of the giant things floating in space? This is very important; I wonder in what direction this will take Dragon in.

That Dragon doesn’t remember it may mean Dragon has a mental block, even though she’s data. It’s really hard to imagine such a thing being possible, but it exists, so yeah. This could be invaluable. I hope Defiant is onto something, because this could give some interesting information about trigger events.

“Well, we’ll see just how well that data was erased. Or if it even was erased. Could be a block keeping you from accessing a very real memory. With luck, maybe a bit of a loophole like the one I created around your ability to create child A.I., we can unlock that memory, decrypt it or find a snapshot of it as it’s in progress.”

“To what ends?”

That’s a very good question, and Defiant admits that too. I for one think it’s good to investigate this because everything about how powers are obtained and how they affect you is a mystery. Until now I thought a brain to mutate would be necessary, given new structures needed to be created to control the powers. If Dragon effectively went through a trigger event, did her code mutate like a normal human brain would? How was it possible, how did it develop? It’ll bring almost no answers and a million questions, I’m sure, but you can’t let that stop you from research!

Right now I think Cauldron are the only ones who have progressed in any kind of investigation about this, given they can give powers, but it’s not like Defiant or Dragon have the possibility of reading their research.

Ever Dragon is interested. Nice. Defiant makes a few notes and moves to leave this in the safe PRT server, but Dragon stops the connection. She specifically says they won’t put anything about this where the PRT can take a look at it. Even though Dragon suspects maybe the PRT already knows about anything they can put on their servers, she doesn’t want to take any chances. She can’t explain right now because they have to focus on their current mission, but she promises she’ll explain later.

“I’m almost certain they already know whatever we stand to find out. I suppose it’s unavoidable, given how close we are on so many levels, but you’re getting drawn into another fight, with an enemy that may be on the same level as the Nine or even the Endbringers. An enemy I can’t afford to fight face to face.”

“Who?“

“I’m obligated to follow the laws of the land. To obey the local government, no matter who they are. When we’re done here, whether we stop the Nine outright, see them escape yet again or lose the fight, you should ask me about Cauldron.“

Oho! Interesting, Dragon considers Cauldron to be an enemy on the same level than the Slaughterhouse Nine or the Endbringers. A global threat. I wasn’t really sure if Cauldron was a good organization or not, but now I’m thinking of them as a threat. I just put a lot of stock on Dragon’s judgment, okay? Besides, it’s also rather interesting she says ‘an enemy I can’t afford to fight face to face’. It’s a curious way to say something.

I wondeeeeer...could it be Dragon’s creator has ties to Cauldron? It’s possible they already know something about anything Dragon may or may not have behind a mental block. Perhaps Dragon was created using information obtained from their research, and they programmed a trigger event with that purpose? Given Cauldron created the highest echelons of the Protectorate, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to think they would create someone capable of dealing with the villains that aren’t their clients.

So this is the end of the interlude. I for one found it quite interesting. I’m starting to really like Defiant a lot, which is something I didn’t expect. I liked him as Armsmaster, but that was because he was unlikable and the way he affected the story and characters was interesting. Now that he’s getting character development, I’m getting interested in the end result of that. This is great.

Given this is a donation interlude, I think that means the next chapter continues the Monarch arc. What else could be left in it, I wonder. I’ll find out next time!

Next time: next update

#worm #worm liveblog #webserial #webserial liveblog #liveblog

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junker-town · 3 years

Text

Finding the perfect fit for the NFL Draft’s top QBs

Forget who’s best. Today we talk about where these players can flourish.

Ask anyone around the NFL about rookie quarterbacks and they’ll tell you that fit is far more important than raw potential. Even the most talented quarterbacks can find themselves languishing in the league, failing to ever reach their ceiling because they were drafted by a team that failed to set them up for success.

This is why the yearly tradition of pitting quarterback vs. quarterback when it comes to the draft is such a fool’s errand. Time and time again, we see that fit determines success more than any other factor. Heck, look at 2012. Here you had endless discussion about Andrew Luck vs. Robert Griffin III, and who would be better in the NFL. Luck landed in a stable situation in Indianapolis and flourished, RGIII was drafted into a Washington dumpster fire. Now, less than a decade later, it’s No. 8 pick Ryan Tannehill who’s going to have a better career than both of them — and he needed to escape a bad landing spot in Miami to show his potential.

The 2021 NFL Draft is the most quarterback-heavy in recent memory. As many as five quarterbacks could be selected in the top-10 picks. There’s very little debate over No. 1, with most accepting that Trevor Lawrence is the best in the class, but it gets murky from there. So, instead of just ranking this year’s passers in terms of their potential, today we’ll look at the best plausible landing spot for each QB, and what these teams will get by taking them.

Trevor Lawrence

Best fit: Jacksonville Jaguars

Photo by Chris Graythen/Getty Images

This is the perfect case of talent meeting fit in the NFL Draft. Jacksonville is in dire need of a superstar at quarterback, and Lawrence is a rare talent at the position. The entire organization is in need of leadership, particularly on offense, and this is an intangible quality Lawrence showed in spades while at Clemson. Every quarterback says they want to be a leader, because it makes for great sound bytes, but over the course of his career Lawrence showed a hunger, and a desire to put the team on his shoulders, accept the criticism, as well as the praise, and lead by example.

That level of maturity is going to be tested from the jump, because a rookie quarterback entering the NFL and being expected to run the Urban Meyer offense puts a tremendous amount of pressure on the quarterback — so they need to be someone willing to meet the challenge.

Meyer’s spread offense hinges entirely on quarterback decision-making. It asks for a player who can make quick decisions, take advantage of what the defense gives them, and exploit these advantages. In 2012 Meyer made a simple, but salient point about the importance of quarterback play in his offense.

“The one thing about our offense, you can’t have a bad quarterback. And the quarterback can’t have a bad day or you’ll lose.”

Lawrence was made to have this pressure put on him. By no means is he perfect. There are times he waits a little too long to make throws, and others where he’ll miss a seemingly easy pass — but on average his decision making is unparalleled in this class, and his downfield vision, regardless of the pass rush in his face will make him a star.

This fit is so perfect it feels almost like the Jaguars hired Urban Meyer knowing they’d be taking Trevor Lawrence.

Zach Wilson

Best fit: Denver Broncos

Photo by Mark Brown/Getty Images

All signs are pointing to Wilson being taken No. 2 overall by the Jets, but I have to admit — I think it’s a mistake. In watching Wilson’s film I saw a pattern emerge, and it’s one that really worries me.

BYU played one of the softest schedules in all of college, ranked 67th in the nation. Wilson was in the ideal position to succeed, and he did for the most part. However, what I see is a quarterback who took a ton of risks that won’t translate on Sunday. Too often Wilson threw jump balls to his receivers, missing his progression on a safer, chain-moving throw. You can look at that as “having faith in his receivers,” which is good — and he should have, especially when you’re playing the likes of North Alabama.

Wilson always had days to throw downfield because of a clean pocket. Despite this he still had a tendency to move through his progressions too quickly and miss easy options. In the event he was pressured Wilson was too quick to take off and run. His athleticism was enough against his competition to pick up big yards, but this could become a liability in the NFL.

So, why is he a fit for Denver? In short: He needs an environment that emulates his time at BYU as much as possible. The Broncos have a solid offensive line compared to other QB-needy teams at the top of the draft, and that will give him the protection to allow him to make the throws he attempted in college, with a burgeoning young receiver in Jerry Jeudy who can make him look good.

I can’t shake this feeling that Wilson is going to be a bust though. After watching film I’m not confident in him to be an elite quarterback in the NFL, and it concerns me to think he’ll be selected with that expectation on him.

Justin Fields

Best fit: Atlanta Falcons

Photo by Alika Jenner/Getty Images

There seems to be contention over whether Atlanta are ready to draft their quarterback of the future now, or if they want to wait a couple more years — but I believe they should, because the best player for them could be sitting in their pocket.

Justin Fields is by no means a polished, NFL-ready product. He bounced from Georgia to Ohio State, learning the Buckeyes’ offense and having success, but struggling a little at times too. That’s been ludicrously conflated with an inability to learn, which, honestly, is the kind of lazy, racist take that gets hoisted on black quarterbacks, so it shouldn’t be a surprise.

What I see when I watch Fields is a player with tremendous NFL potential, and an ability to do all the things teams crave — but sometimes without consistency. Fields has great vision, goes through his progressions well, and uses his tremendous athleticism and legs as a final option, rather than a weapon. He’s always looking downfield for a pass before deciding to run. It’s for these reasons Atlanta is a perfect landing spot.

There won’t be a weight of expectations to start from day one. Fields will be able to sit behind Matt Ryan and have some breathing room while learning his third offense in three years. The foundation set in Atlanta is already strong, albeit in need of some tweaking. So why not get a potentially elite player and have him ready after you sort out those other small issues?

I understand that Ryan does have a couple of years left in him, but the best teams plan ahead — especially when the draft breaks in a way where they could get a potentially elite talent at quarterback, and get him ready to play in the NFL before needing to make the transition.

Mac Jones

Best fit: New England Patriots

Photo by Alika Jenner/Getty Images

An athletically questionable quarterback with NFL potential based on his processing speed and decision making. Let me know if that sounds like any Patriots QB you know? Perhaps a Hall of Fame one with six rings maybe? Okay, it’s exceedingly dumb to compare Mac Jones to Tom Brady, but hopefully you get where I’m going here.

Jones is not a perfect fit for every team. In a league where teams are craving more and more athleticism at the quarterback position, Jones is on a bit of an island when it comes to how he gels with the modern game. I get that there are a lot of teams in love with how he sees and thinks about the game, but there comes a point where there will be a definite ceiling on his potential because of his physique and athleticism. It’s as simple as that.

If I’m Mac Jones I’m salivating at the idea of going to New England and working with an organization who understands how to get the most out of a quarterback with my skillset. There won’t be the pressure to start from day one, considering the Patriots just re-signed Cam Newton, but even Newton can give something to Jones: Confidence.

In watching Jones play you see the smart decision making too, but sometimes he’s too conservative for his own good. Taking the checkdown route and picking up easy yards is definitely a smart play, but we know that dinking and dunking downfield isn’t a way to consistently win in the NFL. While Jones doesn’t have the biggest arm in the draft, he has better passing skill than he sometimes even gives himself credit for. There are times he could throw a pass into a tighter window, or drive the ball downfield more — but decides not to.

Cam Newton is not lacking for confidence, and I think being in the quarterback room with someone like that could actually make Mac Jones better as a result. At that point he’d be even better equipped to be a Bill Belichick quarterback.

Trey Lance

Best fit: San Francisco 49ers

Photo by Sam Wasson/Getty Images

I understand signs are pointing to San Francisco being enamored with Mac Jones, and I kind of get it — but I think they’re overlooking an even better fit for both parties.

I’ve been tremendously impressed watching video of Trey Lance as another player with astounding NFL potential who still needs to put the rest of the pieces together. Lance isn’t afraid of contact, he’ll stand tall in the pocket and make throws, knowing he’s about to take a big hit in the process. He also excels at making difficult passes quarterbacks in the league are expected to make, like dropping a dime to a receiver on an out route, while lofting the ball over a defender in the flat. These are the kid of throws that never get picked up in highlight reels, but the ones NFL teams salivate over when seeing a prospect, because they know it means a player can move the chains.

There are some hitches with Lance’s game. His anticipation isn’t always there on throws, and he doesn’t always put his receivers in the best position to pick up yards after the catch. Lance also tends to get busy in the pocket, but in unproductive ways. There are times he has a lot of wasted body movement as he shuffles around in the pocket, changes his stance, moves his eye level — all detract from the basic act of throwing a football. Small issues that can be corrected, especially with time.

It’s here the 49ers enter. I know their desire to get a quarterback is strong, but they don’t need to pull the trigger on starting a rookie right now. Jimmy Garopollo is still serviceable enough for another season while the coaching staff gets ample time to iron out these issues with Lance.

To me, you don’t trade up to No. 3 and give up a ransom in order to hit a double. It’s an old cliche I know, but the 49ers need to get a home run out of this pick — even if they have to wait a little for it. For my money I think Trey Lance is worth the wait, and if he can iron out these issues in his game, we really could be seeing a very special quarterback in the making.

What about the Jets?

I know New York fans are probably upset they’re not mentioned here, but I have a pretty easy answer for it: This isn’t the year. Trevor Lawrence would have been the guy to take for the Jets, but they played out of that possibility in 2020.

This isn’t a team who is a QB away from competing, they’re almost an entire team away. Throwing a rookie passer into this situation won’t serve the player, or the team in the long run. The Jets still need major upgrades at receiver, and on the offensive line — which leads me to the belief that taking Oregon offensive tackle Penei Sewell would be the correct move, even though it’s not likely it will happen.

I love a lot of what New York has done in the last six months. Hiring Robert Saleh was inspired, and there aren’t enough superlatives to describe what an upgrade he is over Adam Gase. Trading away Sam Darnold and getting something in return was great as well. Risking the rebuild from the jump on the wrong quarterback is a mistake, and I’m afraid they’re going to make it.

Seriously Jets, just get better for now. Understand 2021 will be rough, and position yourself to take Spencer Rattler, Sam Howell or JT Daniels a year from now.

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sage-nebula · 6 years

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"I’m bracing myself for the fact that Saeyoung’s death will be a mandatory part of Saeran’s Normal/Good End" I'm very afraid of that as well :/// It makes me wonder though, what if Saeran shooting Saeyoung is a part of the route, but the results of that depend on the end you get: normal/good end have Saeyoung survive (maybe Vanderwood saves him? Or binds his injury, like in the Secret Ends?) while bad ends have him... yeah... One big fear right here, Cheritz, one BIG fear ._.

Hmm, I don’t know. I feel doubtful about that for a few reasons.

Shooting Saeyoung but then having him survive would qualify as a Disney Death, which is out of place in a game like Mystic Messenger where characters who are killed off tend to be killed off for real (unless they’re named Rika, because she’s like a cockroach; we just can’t seem to get rid of her). When Saeran shot V in the Secret Endings, V died. Although there were people on the scene right then and there who probably would have tried to bind his wounds (including Vanderwood), he still ended up suffering a wound so fatal that it took his life. Similarly, when Saeran blew himself up in Another Story, he died. Unless V’s After Ending tries to retcon that somehow (and I don’t see how it plausibly could), Saeran’s death was permanent. He died, and Cheritz did not take it back. So when it comes to characters we actually like and care about, when Cheritz kills them off, they kill them for real. Rika being the exception is possibly because she’s the villain / Cheritz knows most of us don’t care about her, and thus we’re not going to mourn her death anyway. With Saeyoung, Cheritz knows good and goddamn well how much of the fandom positively loves him, and so he’s a character whose death would very likely be permanent. They would want that emotional impact, and they wouldn’t want to fake it by psyching everyone out.

Every single Route ends with someone dead or suffering in the Good End. Even Jaehee’s Route, which is pretty much universally agreed upon to be the softest and easiest route, has (if I’m remembering correctly, and apologies if I’m not) V imprisoned in Magenta, being tortured by Mint Eye, at the end of it. He’s not dead, but he presumably will die there, and anyway he’s suffering in a situation he can’t be saved from. (Not to mention that Saeran is still with Mint Eye as well, Saeyoung is still with the agency, and so on and so forth.) Therefore, it wouldn’t really make sense for Saeran’s Route to have everyone saved and happy at the end, when no one else’s route allowed everyone to escape unscathed. When the truest of True Ends (the Secret Endings) didn’t give us an ending where everyone good escaped unscathed, I don’t see why Saeran’s Route---a route that Cheritz originally didn’t even want to include, but is now only including because they know it will make them money---would.

As I mentioned before, as terrible as this is, Saeyoung’s presence is not as necessary a requisite for Saeran to get the ending he wants as Saeran’s presence was for Saeyoung. Saeyoung loves and cherishes his brother; he always has, and he always will. For him to have a truly happy ending, it was necessary for Saeran to be saved. He could not rest, nor could he be happy, until he knew that Saeran was safe, healing, and on his way to happiness. But the same is not true in reverse. Saeran has been brainwashed into loathing Saeyoung. Although there was that confusing chat with “Ray” where he talked about seeing his brother again (which honest to god makes no sense even in Another Story), it’s made pretty clear that Saeran still despises Saeyoung in Another Story as well, even when his “Ray” persona is at the forefront. He, as Ray, still wants Saeyoung dead, preferably by his own hand. Because of this, being a family with Saeyoung again is not something Saeran perceives as being a necessary requisite for his happy ending. In fact, all he actually wants is to live somewhere happily and comfortably with MC. And while we can argue (and I would agree) that Saeyoung is instrumental in Saeran’s healing, I don’t think that it’s necessarily about what would be best for the character in question, but rather, what they want. Since what Saeran wants is to live with MC (and Saeyoung is not part of that), I don’t think Cheritz will deem Saeyoung’s presence necessary for Saeran’s happy ending. If nothing else, it’s not Saeyoung’s presence in Saeran’s life that will be necessary, but rather, Saeyoung’s redemption in Saeran’s eyes that is.

This is why I brought up the idea of a heroic sacrifice on Saeyoung’s part. Saeran has been tortured and brainwashed by Rika and the rest of Mint Eye into believing that:

Saeyoung abandoned him because he was frail and helpless (and Saeyoung subsequently forgot about him because he was having too much fun with the RFA parties to care)

Rika is his savior, and the only one who cares about him

Magenta is a place of everlasting happiness, and Mint Eye is the organization that brings about that happiness

The drugs are medicine, and the pain and suffering Saeran feels as a result of them is a good and necessary thing

Every other character had crucial misconceptions flipped around for them over the course of their Routes (provided the player was getting the Good Ending, of course). For instance, Saeyoung learned that he didn’t have to (and shouldn’t) take every burden on his shoulders (and that accepting help and letting people into his life was a good thing), and V learned that Rika’s behavior was not his fault, nor was she his responsibility (but rather, she needed to take responsibility for herself). Having these realizations allowed them to reach their Good Endings. For Saeran, the situation is the same; the four ideas above are the ones that he needs to flip around in order to reach his Good Ending, and I could see a heroic sacrifice on Saeyoung’s part allowing him to do just that. (He also has a misconception about V, but this is about Saeyoung rather than V, so I’m not talking about that just now.)

In essence, I could see a situation where Saeyoung, MC, and Saeran are all in Magenta. The bomb has been activated, and perhaps in this Route it’s set to a timer (like the bomb in the apartment). The Believers have all evacuated, and these three are the last ones left behind, but perhaps there’s some reason why they can’t leave yet; maybe some other security system activated, maybe they have remote control over a bomb at another location, who knows. Saeran knows how to take care of this, but so does Saeyoung, and he insists that Saeran and MC leave while he stays behind to take care of it. Saeran expresses disbelief and anger that Saeyoung would “pretend to play the martyr,” but Saeyoung snaps that he’s not pretending to do anything, and Saeran needs to get out and leave. Saeran hesitates, because he doesn’t know how to process the idea that Saeyoung would risk his life for him, so Saeyoung tells MC to take Saeran and go. Because this is Saeran’s Route, MC of course agrees, and drags Saeran out of the building. Both of them escape, and Saeyoung makes good on his word to stop whatever needed to be stopped (or to open the doors for them if it was some type of security system, again, who knows), but Saeyoung is still inside when the bomb detonates. The place explodes, he dies, Saeran is horrified and wracked with grief and shock. However, a component of grief is anger, and Saeyoung’s sacrifice allows him to realize that Rika has been lying to him all these years about how his brother truly felt---that Saeyoung did love him, and didn’t willingly abandon him. This allows him to see the rest of her lies as well, and this inspires him to turn on Rika and Mint Eye for good.

In this scenario, Saeyoung dies in the Good Ending. Cheritz gets their seemingly mandatory blood sacrifce. The Choi twins still have their relationship repaired, in a fashion, even if it’s post-mortem given that Saeyoung had to give his life in order for Saeran to see the light. Given that Saeran has forgiven his brother post-mortem, I could see Cheritz taking that as a “good enough” when it comes to their relationship, and feeling like it counts as a Good Ending since Saeran still has MC. In my opinion, given their writing, a scenario like this is extremely plausible. I’m not going to be at all happy about it if it happens, but I could see it happening.

#sweetchcolate

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imagine-the-fanfics · 7 years

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“Everything’s Alright” - Poe Dameron

A/N: Inspired by the ship for @evdelacyimagines! I’m really unsure about how medical things work in Star Wars so I hope this sounds plausible, at least. Also, while writing this my water bottle made a noise cause the plastic straightened out and I jumped so high I hit my knee on the desk I’m at. Lol!

“The General-“

“The General said it’s fine.” Poe gave a gentle smile and caressed your face. “She agrees; you need a break.”

“But the wounded-“

“Are in perfectly capable hands.” His hand slid down your neck and onto your shoulder before resting it on your upper arm, his other arm gently mirroring the gesture. He looked into your eyes and spoke softly. “You need a break. You’ve been working almost non-stop the last 36 hours. How many hours of sleep have you gotten?” You tried to calculate but you couldn’t seem to count correctly. “My point exactly.” He pulled you against him and rubbed your back.

“Maybe you’re right.” A sigh escaped you and you leaned against him, your heavy eyes struggling to stay open.

“Aren’t I always?” He teased lovingly, giving the side of your head a quick peck with his lips. “Let’s get you home and into bed.” He held you for a moment longer before releasing you, taking your hand in his. “You know I’m proud of you, right?” You couldn’t help but smile and look into his adoring eyes. You felt like you could melt into a puddle right then and there.

You took his hand. “Let’s get home.” You began walking, and he kept pace next to you. Eventually he slid his hand out of yours and wrapped it around your shoulders, resting his hand on your upper arm.

Thankfully, it wasn’t very far to your living space. When you arrived you immediately walked to your bed and flopped onto it, getting a chuckle from Poe.

“Let’s get you into something more comfortable.” He suggested, beginning to track down clothing that would be proper for sleeping in.

“Let’s just sleep.” You mumbled, nuzzling into your pillow and receiving yet another chuckle from Poe.

“Come on. It’ll only take a moment. Will these work?” He held up a mismatched sleeping top and bottoms. You looked over and smiled.

“You’re wonderful.”

“Yes, I know.” Poe grinned. “But are you going to be comfortable sleeping in these?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you need help changing or can you manage?”

“I’m too tired to change!” You whined, turning your face back to the pillow. Poe gave a gentle sigh and sat on the bed next to you, playing with your hair and rubbing your back.

“I know it’s been a rough few days, but can you do this for me? I don’t want to force you but I would feel more confident that you’re getting the rest you need.” Concern was obvious, and his playing with your hair had you drifting off to sleep. “Hey! Sleepy head.” Poe smiled, giving you a gentle nudge.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get changed.” You yawned, pushing yourself up to a sitting position and grabbing the clothes. Poe stood up and turned his back to you, allowing you to change in private.

“Why do you always look away when I change?” You asked, removing your uniform.

“It’s a respect thing, for me.” Poe noticed some things that could be picked up and took the initiative to put them in their place while you changed.

“Well, I’m clothed now. So, you can turn around now.” You yawned again, flopping back onto the bed.

“Do you want me to stay tonight?” Poe walked over to your bedside, itching the back of his head for a moment.

“Of course I do.” You reached for his hand and started pulling him into the bed, causing Poe to chuckle – again.

“Alright. I’ll stay.” He gave you a kiss on your forehead, gave your hand a squeeze, and then pulled his hand away, moving over to remove most of his clothing before crawling into the bed next to you.

You were out in seconds once he was in the bed with you, but he just propped himself up on an elbow and watched you sleep, playing with your hair a bit before falling asleep himself.

“Was I right, or was I right?” Poe teased, leaning on your desk.

“You were right.” You gave an exaggerated sigh, smiling at him. “Thank you. It was really nice to spend time with you and away from…” You motioned to everything scattered around on your desk. “This mess.”

“The pleasure was all mine, I assure you.” Poe purred, giving you a wink that made your face heat up. You just gave a coy smile before examining a specific pile on your desk. Your brow furrowed slightly and you gave a sigh. “Everything alright?” His tone switching from playful to concerned.

“Yeah.” You sighed. “Everything’s fine. Just… We’re so understaffed in the medbay and almost everyone is making complaints about it but there’s only so much I can do when no one is coming in.” You ran a hand through your hair, grabbing some in your fist. “I’m going to have to take more hours at this rate…” You grumbled.

“Absolutely not.” Poe replied as if you had just suggested he would be happier with someone else, even though he was head over heels for you. “You already work more than you should.”

“Poe, someone has to work these shifts.” Your frustration was becoming more evident.

“So spread the hours around. Most of the work is done by droids, isn’t it? Maybe have less people on the floor at one time-“

“It doesn’t work like that.” You cut him off with a bitter tone. “The droids only do so much and we don’t have enough people on the floor as it is.”

Poe paused for a moment, attempting to read your face. It was obvious you were upset, but how much of it was basic frustration and how much of it was your temper getting the best of you? He couldn’t tell. Instead, he walked behind your chair, resting his hands on your shoulders and starting to rub.

“Things will work out.” He calmly reassured. You simply jerked out of his grasp and he bit his lip, concerned he was only making it worse.

“Can you just go? I need to focus.” If tone could cut you’d have sliced him in half.

“Sure, sweetheart. I’ve got to run drills anyways.” Poe gave the back of your head a kiss before making his way to the door of your office. “I love you.” He was quiet, but audible. You ignored him and made it look like you were just lost in your work, but he knew better. It hurt, but he simply tapped the doorframe and made his way to the hangar bay. You looked up to watch him leave, instantly regretting how that conversation went.

“Y/n!” One of the medical technicians that worked under you stood in your doorway with a panicked look on their face. You recognized her as the newest member of the team. “The squadron- First Order-“

“Whoa, whoa.” You stood up, quickly making your way over to them. “What happened?” You asked calmly, placing a hand on their shoulder. Their behavior and facial expression made it clear they were traumatized. “Focus on your breathing. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“No. There are so many- This isn’t okay-“ They shook their head, their eyes darting from you to the hall. “Y/n- More than half the squad- We need to go- There’s so many-“

“Breathe.” You reminded, helping them regulate their breathing. “You need to calm down. Let’s get to work.” You gave a gentle smile. “I know it’s hard, especially when you just start, but you can do this. I have faith in you.”

The two of you made your way to the medbay, which wasn’t far from your office.

“Three more on route.” One of your more seasoned teammates informed, as they performed triage on a patient, getting them to a room. You noticed one was already in a room. So there were five in total. You made your way to meet the nearest med transport without a medic and got to work.

“The fighter crashed after one of the engines was hit. He managed to crawl out and away from it before it exploded. Part of his suit caught fire, but I put it out when I got there. He’s lost a lot of blood.” The driver explained.

“Stay with me, Poe!” One of the people on the transport gently slapped Poe’s face, trying to get his eyes to open again.

Poe.

Your gaze immediately snapped to the face of your patient and you felt your heart stop. After a moment you got back to work, trying to forget that your boyfriend was near death. You glanced at him again. Pale. He was uncharacteristically pale. He had lost so much blood and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He was fading fast. Panic started to wash over you, but you did what you could to shut it down.

Before you knew it, you had him in a room and a blood transfusion had been started. The medical droid got to work cauterizing the bleeding wounds and you took a few steps back, staring at his face. He was so close to death. Had he not been found when he was- You shook your head to clear those thoughts and went to his side opposite the droid, taking his hand and caressing his face. You glanced up at the monitors. His vitals weren’t great but there was hope.

“I’m so sorry, Poe. Stay with me, please.” You muttered against his cheek, giving him a soft kiss. You thought about how you had left things earlier with him and felt warm tears slip down your cheeks. “Please hold on; I need you. I’m so sorry- I love you.”

“I’ll be okay, sweetheart, don’t worry..” His speech was quiet, barely there, and so slow and weak. You weren’t sure if you had properly heard him or not.

“Save your strength.” You told him, running your fingers through his hair. You refocused on the monitors. Things were improving, but it felt like it was taking too long. “I have to go tend to other patients. Please hold on. I love you and I’m so sorry.”

Poe closed his eyes and looked away, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and rushed out, barely holding yourself together. You leaned against the wall and slid, tears running down your face like a waterfall. You had to pull yourself together. People needed you. You looked down the hall and wiped your face on your sleeves.

You stood up, summoning the strength you had left and forced yourself through the next few hours. You had to be strong. You were a leader and you were needed. Poe would be okay, you reminded yourself whenever you needed to. Everything would be fine.

A few squad mates stood around Poe’s bed, the group of them laughing about something one of them had said. You leaned in the doorway, giving a soft smile. Poe happened to glance over at you and his face lit up.

“Can you guys excuse us?” He asked them. They nodded, said they would, and gave you nods and hellos as they left.

“I’m glad you’re doing better. You scared me.” His face, cleaned of blood, dirt, and dust, showed a cut above his left eye and a dark bruise forming on his right cheek. You walked over to his bed, sitting on the side next to him. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He asked, obviously confused.

“For earlier. I let my anger get the best of me, again, and I took it out on you, again. You said you loved me and I didn’t say it back and then you almost died and-“ Your voice failed you as a sob filled your throat. You kept it inside, even as the tears began to fall.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Poe reached over, concerned as he held your face in his hand and looked you in the eyes. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I know you love me, even if you don’t say it. It’s okay. Everything is okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Your head found his chest and the sobs washed over your body like a tsunami. He made a soft grunt when your head met his chest, but he wrapped his arms around you and leaned his cheek against your head. His hands moved up and down, rubbing your back as he held you.

“You see?” He reassured with a whisper. “Everything’s alright.”

#Poe Dameron #poe dameron imagine #poe #poe imagine #star wars #star wars imagine

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him-e · 7 years

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I actually think Sansa is the "girl in grey on a dying horse" and Alys Karstark is a red herring, do you think that's plausible? The tourney will be a disaster and that's why Shadrich is there. He will take her away, and I think it will be to Jon-The Wall.

I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day.

It’s a fascinating theory, one that made me see the appeal of Sansa running to the Wall even before season 5.

What’s interesting is that Melisandre appears certain that the girl is a) Jon’s sister and b) “fleeing from a marriage they’ve made for her”. What makes she think so? Is it something in the girl’s clothing or demeanor? Or is it just that she overheard the news of Ramsay’s marriage to “Arya” and she put two and two together (as she often does, admittedly)? Is there something else that connects the girl in the vision with a forced marriage? (note: “Jon’s sister” would indeed wear a (white and) grey maiden’s cloak for her wedding)

When Alys Karstark shows up two leagues south of Mole’s Town, asking for Jon, she seems to fit the vision to a T. Almost TOO much. Her house colors are black and white, which mixed become grey. She is fleeing from a marriage that others tried to force her into. And her horse is dying.

But what horse wouldn’t be, after days of desperate travel? And why would R’hllor send Melisandre a vision of Alys Karstark? Is it because Alys and her marriage to Sigorn magnar of Thenn become more important in future books, or…?

But what really doesn’t add up is:

“Did your fires show you where to find this girl?““I saw water. Deep and blue and still, with a thin coat of ice just forming on it. It seemed to go on and on forever.”“Long Lake. What else did you see around this girl?”“Hills. Fields. Trees. A deer, once. Stones. She is staying well away from villages. When she can she rides along the bed of little streams, to throw hunters off her trail.”He frowned. “That will make it difficult. She was coming north, you said. Was the lake to her east or to her west?”Melisandre closed her eyes, remembering. “West.”

So, assuming the water Melisandre saw is indeed Long Lake (as per Mance’s assumption), the girl is traveling along the eastern side of it. So far so good. At this point they still believe it’s “Arya”, so the fact that she’s on the wrong side of the lake is supposed to be our first major hint that it’s NOT Arya and she’s NOT coming from Winterfell. BUT. Take a look at the map:

… why would Alys Karstark from Karhold take an “L” shaped route to Castle Black that is basically twice the linear distance between the two places? (it would make sense if the large body of water in Meli’s vision is misidentified by Mance as Long Lake but is actually the Last River; still a much longer route than necessary, but one you could maybe explain with the necessity to travel safe or cover your tracks).

But if it IS indeed Long Lake, then the girl in Meli’s vision is probably NOT Alys Karstark at all, but someone coming from the south. Let’s look at the map again. A few places this girl could be reasonably coming from are:

the Dreadfort;

Hornwood;

Ramsgate, Widow’s Watch;

probably not Winterfell (as she’d be riding with the lake to her east, not west, unless she’s so determined to stay clear of the Kingsroad that she crosses the White Knife. Same goes for Deepwood Motte, the Wolfswood, Torrhen’s Square and any places west of Long Lake/the Kingsroad.)

White Harbor.

White Harbor is the most interesting option to me. Someone who goes from WH to CB would be tracing back the White Knife until the eastern shore of Long Lake, and then ride to CB almost in a straight line (note: Catelyn took the White Knife route to go to White Harbor and then to King’s Landing in AGOT). But most importantly, White Harbor, as the North’s primary trade port, is the easiest access point to the North for a person who comes from south of the Neck. Like… the Vale, for example.

Is it possible that the girl is Sansa, running away from the Vale, from Littlefinger’s plans, from Harry Hardyng, from ser Shadrich, maybe wearing the white and grey cloak of her (failed? broken? consummated?) marriage to Harry?

Yes. It’s possible. Plausible, though? I have to consider this from all angles and not just the one that suits my headcanon, so let me play the devil’s advocate:

What if it’s Jeyne Poole? She and Theon were captured by Mors Umber and taken to Stannis’ camp, in a village located in the Wolfswood, three days away from Winterfell. Stannis decides to keep Theon and send Jeyne/Arya to Jon, accompanied by Justin Massey, Tycho Nestoris and a few other men. Maybe the group is attacked somewhere along the way and Jeyne is left alone, with no choice but keep riding North. She’d probably be wearing grey and, as she’s still impersonating “Arya”, Mel’s vision would be virtually correct. Though since her journey is supposed to begin near Winterfell, the issue of why would she be on the eastern side of Long Lake still stands. But overall, Jeyne Poole is a likely candidate.

What if it’s (the real) Arya? You know she’s going to leave the Faceless Men soon. White Harbor might be the place she lands after traveling by ship from Braavos to Westeros. Another equally possible scenario is that she is coming North from the Riverlands, in which case the large body of water could be still Long Lake, but also the Gods Eye (if winter has come, it’s entirely possible that its surface would be covered in ice, and if Arya lands in Maidenpool, for example, it would make sense for her to be near the Gods Eye’s eastern shore if she’s going North via the Kingsroad. Heck, the water might be even the Green Fork).

What if it’s just Alys Karstark, the Long Lake inconsistency was completely unintentional on the author’s part, and Meli’s prophecy is already resolved? The simplest explanation is often the right one, after all.

Also important to note: the girl Melisandre saw was “as grey as ash”, no trace of Sansa’s very conspicuous auburn hair. That could be explained with Sansa wearing a hood or not having gotten rid of her Alayne dye yet or being dirty or maybe escaping from a fire (covered in ashes?), but still, it’s something that works against the Sansa option, in my opinion.

(speaking of fires and ashes and very grey girls, I’ve seen people bring up Shireen, but Shireen is currently at the Wall, so for her to ride back to the Wall, she has to go south first (summoned by her father, maybe?). Which, you know… given what happened in the show, isn’t terribly unlikely. And might be connected to whatever creepypasta is going on with Patchface and Shireen’s dormant greyscale (”the girl is not clean”). Perhaps the “grey girl” is even Melisandre herself, escaping from the complete annihilation of Team Stannis like she did in the show, which would be… ironic)

But back to our Sansa theory, it’s all based on a series of assumptions (that Littlefinger’s plans go downhill, that either ser Shadrich kidnaps her or she’s forced to flee, that at some point she starts riding alone, that she’ll think the safest place she can go is the Wall), that, while tempting especially in light of Show!Sansa’s storyline, are still wild speculation with no textual evidence. In fact, it’s just as likely that Sansa marries Harry as per LF’s plan and travels North with them and an entire Vale army in tow. Or that she doesn’t go North at all. It’s also possible that Littlefinger’s plans come to fruition… in part: perhaps she goes to White Harbor with Team Littlefinger, and then something happens there, which makes her flee to the Wall.

At this point is really hard to say so TL;DR it’s an interesting theory on multiple levels but also a long shot considering the information we have now, and we have other possible candidates, so I recommend caution and avoiding to pin all your hopes on Sansa being the grey girl.

#anon #asks #got asks #got for ts #the girl in grey on a dying horse #prophecies #speculation #sansa**#melisandre**#jon x sansa for ts #alys karstark

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rootbeergoddess · 7 years

Text

Let’s Rescue Stitch!

Writing commission for @thewitchxthemercxthequeenbee . Stitch gets lost in the world of monsters and college roommates Boo and Lilo get ready to save him. Liked this fic? Leave me a ko-fi!

“What a cute goldfish.”

Boo looked up from the box she was unpacking. Her new roommate smiled at Mike as he swam around in the bowl. Boo stood up and walked over to the girl who would be living with her for the next four years. It was scary to think about. Boo didn’t know anything about this girl. Today was their first meeting. Thinking, Boo decided it to at least try and start a conversation. After all, they would see each other a lot why not try to be nice?

“His name is Mike Wazowski,” Boo said.

There was a slight pause.

“What a cute name.”

That had been a bit of a surprise.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” The girl looked at Boo. “You named him so why do you sound surprised?”

“Well, a lot of people think it’s weird that I named my fish Mike Wazowski.”

“I named my dog Stitch.”

Oh right. Boo had almost forgotten about the ‘dog’ her roommate had brought. It didn’t really look like a normal dog. For starters, it was blue. The dog’s nails were extremely long, it had large rounded eyes and smelled awful. But despite all of this, Boo thought it was cute. Stitch let Boo pet her and he seemed to enjoy the attention.

“I like it,” Boo shrugged. “I’m Mary by the way but everyone calls me Boo.”

“I’m Lilo.”

It was weird how the two of them got along instantly. They were both odd girls with similar interests. While Lilo had a strange obsession with Elvis, she also shared Boo’s fascination with monsters. All her life, Boo had loved monsters. She wasn’t sure why. She just found them extremely interesting. When other girls were playing with Barbie dolls, she was begging her parents to let her buy a Frankenstein action figure. They would spend hours watching really bad B-movie films, laughing at the effects and pointing out the flaws of the film. Stitch was usually present too, lying next to them. Sometimes, Boo swore the dog was talking to Lilo. Lilo talked to her dog like a lot of other people but there were times Boo swore she thought Stitch would talk back. Boo didn’t say anything about it.

Boo found it nice to have a friend like Lilo. All her life, Boo had felt a bit odd. She wasn’t sure why. It had been hard for her to make friends but with Lilo it was different. They two of them clicked instantly. Boo didn’t have to be scared of being judged. No matter what she said, Lilo would listen and never did she laugh at Boo. For a while, things were going smoothly.

Until one night.

The two girls were in their dorm room. Lilo was working on a paper for her biology class and Boo was studying for her Latin final. The room was quiet until they heard a very loud thump come from their closet.

Sitting up, Boo looked at the closet door. Another loud thump was heard. Lilo glanced over at Boo but said nothing. Before either one of them could get up to move towards the door, it began to creak open. Slowly and carefully, Boo got up from her bed. Glancing around the room, she looked for some type of weapon. But before she could do anything, Stitch leaped towards the door. It opened but whatever was in the closet didn’t get out because Stitch tackled it.

“Stitch!” Lilo jumped up.

The two bodies fell back into the door. For a brief second, the two women heard scuffling behind the door but then it went silent. Lilo threw opened the door.

There was nothing there.

“Stitch!” Lilo cried as she looked into the closet. “Where is he? He was just here!”

Boo didn’t say anything for a second. What could she say? Instead, she just stared at the empty closet. This seemed familiar. Silently, she thought about back to when she younger. When she was little. A toddler.

“Lilo,” Boo said. “I might know where he has gone.”

Boo told Lilo the whole story. It was the first time someone had actually listened to the story and not thought she was crazy. When she had been little, she remembered entering her closet and ending up in another world full of monsters. Some were colorful, somewhere funny and some were downright terrifying. All her life, Boo had tried to convince other people that the world of monsters was real. But people laughed at her, telling her she was being silly or that she had lost her mind. Boo had stopped telling the story but that didn’t stop her from thinking it had been a real experience. She remembered everything so vividly.

And now, Stitch had vanished trying to protect Lilo and Boo from whatever was in the closet.

“I think that whatever was trying to come out of the closet is coming from that monster land I visited as a child,” Boo sounded resolute. “It sounds crazy, I know but I think that we have to go in and save Stitch. No one else will believe us if we try to tell them.”

Lilo agreed. The idea was completely insane but they had no other options. Lilo wouldn’t leave Stitch to die and Boo wasn’t going to let Lilo go alone. It took them at least three days to properly plan. First, they gathered weapons. Neither of them wanted to use guns. Boo had never used one and guns made Lilo nervous. So they decided the best route was to go with bats, brass knuckles, and tasers. Boo didn’t want to hurt anyone but Lilo explained that they needed to be prepared just in case.

After the had decided which weapons they needed, they had to think of a decent excuse so people didn’t ask about their absence. They pondered about it until Lilo came up with the perfect idea. They would tell their teachers and friends that they were going out of town for a movie monsters convention. It was plausible and no one would question it. All they had to do was now figure a plan for when they entered the closet.

If Boo was correct, the closet led to a strange world filled with monsters. They had no idea what type of monsters they would run into. Would they be friendly or would they want to eat the two humans? They honestly didn’t have a clue but they wanted to be prepared. Lilo was ready to go in fighting but Boo brought up an important point.

“If we run into monsters that are innocent, we don’t want to hurt them,” Boo said. “I mean it would be unfair wouldn’t it?”

“True,” Lilo mused. “I didn’t think of that.”

“We do still have to be careful but I think we shouldn’t just attack willy nilly.”

The day finally came.

The two of them were nervous but Boo thought Lilo was a wreck compared to her.

Lilo had explained to Boo that when she was little, she was a weird kid. Granted, she was still weird but when she was a girl, people didn’t understand her. She didn’t have many friends and even people who she considered friends treated her like an oddball. Then Stitch came. Lilo revealed the truth about Stitch; he was an alien. He had landed on the island of Kauai while trying to escape from jail. Someone mistook him for a dog and sent him to the local shelter.

That was where Lilo had found him.

Lilo had adopted Stitch. It had been a rocky start but before long, the two oddities had become best friends. No, not friends.

They were family.

“I can’t lose him,” Lilo said she adjusted the straps on her backpack. “Stitch isn’t just a pet. He’s my family.”

“I understand Lilo,” Boo slipped a pair of brass knuckles into her pocket. “We’re going to get him back, I promise.”

The day finally arrived and two girls were ready as they would ever be. They had locked the door to their dorm room just so no one would follow them into the closet. Standing in front the closet, they were silent.

“I’m scared,” Boo admitted.

“Wow really? I’m scared too.” Lilo chuckled.

“Hold hands?”

Boo offered up her hands. Smiling, Lilo took hers.

“We can do this,” Boo said.

Lilo nodded. She kicked opened the door. Instantly, they saw a world filled with monsters. All different colors, shapes, and sizes. Inhaling deeply, the two of them entered this random world. They would find Stitch. Even if they had to tear down the whole place, they were going to find where Stitch was.

“You ready?” Boo asked.

“Hell yeah.”

And with that, the two girls entered the strange land of monsters to find Lilo’s dog.

#Lilo and Stitch #Monsters Inc #Rootbeer Writes #fan fiction

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leiaorganawrites · 7 years

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Well, hello! How about the pirate AU where Vex gets in trouble and gets in jail, and while the crew is making plans to save her, Percy sneaks out and save her... With a bloody cannon.

Yes yes yes, amazing! You’ll find it under the cut. (SORRY IT GOT SUPER LONG OMG)

Give me some prompts!

In Percy’s defence, the plan had been absolutely and utterly stupid to begin with. It wasn’t like he was to blame that it had backfired. Maybe he was, a little bit, but that wasn’t something he was willing to admit.

What they had to do was easy; nothing that the crew hadn’t done before. During the couple of months he had been travelling on board the Vox Machina, Percy had seen them pull much riskier stunts - and had participated of most of them-. There was no reason for this to go wrong, but alas, this particular group of misfits seemed to have a knack for things to go south very easy very fast.

It had been some days since they had heard some of the village guards had snatched important documents containing ships’ descriptions, captains’ names and details about legal and no so legal trading routes. Now, in the wrong hands that information could be catastrophic for every single pirate out there. If those papers reached their destiny, they would have armies all over them in merely a few days time. The need to get the papers back as soon as possible went without saying. Of course the extra knowledge that would fall on them when they did was always a more than welcome plus.

The mission would have been simpler had they been in Emon. They were used to bypass Emperor Uriel’s Royal Guard. They had even made friends - sort of - among their lines that would have been able to aid them. This was Wildmount, though. This continent had no sovereign and each region had its own leader and military. According to what they knew, most of the guards were as corrupt as the worst pirates they knew, so this was unfamiliar ground. Scanlan had pulled some strings and found out the name of the tavern the group of soldiers in possession of the documents were staying in for the moment, before reporting to their authorities they assumed. He had had to cash a couple of favours for it, but you didn’t get to be the captain of a ship like the Vox Machina without gaining some important connections on the way up.

Percy had stated his opinion from the beginning. There weren’t a lot of guards, the tavern didn’t have a very good reputation. They would most likely be able to take them and go in and out with the papers without causing much fuss. Grog, obviously, had agreed. However, it hadn’t been that long since he had started travelling with them, since he had become the ship’s new member, in charge of the artillery and most weaponry. Unfortunately, being the newcomer meant that most of the others didn’t trust him enough to make strategic decisions yet. They wanted to be sneaky about it, so after much deliberation and despite Grog’s protests the plan was finally laid.

Vex’ahlia was going to be in charge of creating a distraction while Vax’ildan and Scanlan himself sneaked into the guards’ room to steal the papers. Percy, Grog and Pike were supposed to go to the tavern with Vex and act as a contingency plan in case everything failed.

“You’re not coming, then?” Percy had asked Keyleth once everyone had left to get ready.

“Wha- no, not really. Not much of a fighter, and not much of a talker either.” She had shrugged. “My specialities lie elsewhere. Besides, someone has to stay here in case we need to bolt.” The redhead girl had leaned forward and whispered “Which honestly happens way too often.”

Percival should have known there and then.

A group of pirates like them - and Percy couldn’t deny he was more than a bit surprised when he started considering himself as a pirate - had no problem blending in the second they went into the tavern. The bear that accompanied them was a different story..

“I don’t mean to offend anyone but I believe the sensible thing would have been to left Trinket behind.” he commented, already expecting Vex’s snarky remark about her animal companion. Most ships’ first mates had parrots, monkeys, even eagles. This woman travelled with a bloody bear. A giant one. But if there was something Percy had learned during his stay on board so far, was that there was nothing ordinary about Vex’ahlia. The remark never came though, and he stopped on his tracks to look behind him. “Wait, where’s Vex?”

“She disappeared right at the door. She does that sometimes, pretty much like Vax. It’s kind of their thing.” Pike had offered a soft smile to conclude her explanation, while patting Grog on his back. He also seemed confused about where the other woman had vanished to, but had quickly shrugged it off and started talking to Trinket. The animal was following them, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that they were inside an establishment full of humans that were giving him foul looks.

The place was uncommonly filled with people, even at that time of noon. Once they found a place to sit, Trinket easily curled on the floor behind Pike, Percy noticed the stench that surrounded them. It was a mix between sweat, salt, and alcohol. There was a band playing some awful tunes in the corner, but the musicians seemed a bit too scared by the drunken men dancing around to even try to change their style, as out of tune as it might have been. “Well, I don’t know if Scanlan is already here but he must be horrified at this.” Pike laughed as she brought a bottle of rum to the table with two glasses in her other hand and some ale for Grog, who cackled in return. Percy just chuckled and shook his head briefly, searching around for the guards; a feeling of discomfort settling in his stomach. “Who are we looking for exactly?” He didn’t even turn to look at his companions while he threw the question in the air. The fact that Vex wasn’t there worried him even more. It was not as if he thought she couldn’t protect herself, but lately he found the he felt more at ease if she wasn’t out of sight. His eyes scanned the place once again, trying almost desperately to spot any stain of turquoise among the crowd. Nothing.

“Yeh, where are them, Pike?”, Grog asked, his face already buried in his beverage.

“I’m- well, I’m not really sure. Vex will let us know. Just pay attention and we’ll know when we see her.” And as if it had been previously planned, as soon as the blonde woman finished her sentence, Percy saw her. Her hair was down, bright blue feathers entwined with black wild silk waves; her lips were red and full, evidently exalted by some sort of makeup. She was wearing a dress now, in contrast to her usual pants, boots and loose shirt. Vex was very comfortable with her body, that much was clear, so this was not the first time Percy had noticed her figure; but this dress was something else entirely. It fit perfectly in all the right places, it showed just the right amount of skin to keep anyone wondering, it was definitely a sight. Giving the nature of the distraction she had planned, he figured that was kind of the point.

He adjusted his glasses as his eyebrows went up in what was probably the most unoriginal move ever. His jaw hanging would complete the picture of a pathetic being, but he managed to gather some self-control. She wasn’t the only woman dressed like that inside the establishment and he had known enough of the world to understand how a courtesan was supposed to look, but she stood out so naturally with her graceful movements and her sharp looks; it was a fool’s errand not to be mesmerised by her mere presence.

“Hello boys.” She approached three men nearby with a wink, sitting on their table and shamelessly crossing her partially uncovered legs. Percy felt his cheeks flush and tried to look away, failing completely. It was only when he heard Pike’s voice behind him that he was able to blink a couple of times and snap out of the trance.

“Percy are you listening? Percy! Hey!” She tapped his shoulder delicately.

“Yes, yes dear, I’m sorry. I was just-” Staring. He was just staring. He made a quick scan of the men sitting next to Vex. Definitely soldiers. He needed to come up with something clever to say to save what was left of his dignity. “So there are three of them. It doesn’t seem they’re waiting for anyone else. They’re armed, but not heavily so. It’s plausible they have left some weapons in their room.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? Will make it easier if- well, if everything goes to shit.” There was a little giggle escaping from Pike’s lips and he found himself chuckling fondly as well.

“Funny. Keyleth basically told me the same thing on our way out.”

“It’s been over two months, you’re no stranger to our plans now. Or to how they have this tendency to go terribly wrong.” Her tone was amused and relaxed, almost as if the fact that they were actually risking their lives there was an ongoing joke.

Pike’s words ended up being prophetic once again. Vex was playing her part to perfection, making the large men paying drinks for her, winking, subtly placing her hands on their knees, stalling. Vax was supposed to give some sort of signal when everything was over and done with, so she could make an easy escape. At the moment the soldiers - more drunk and nastier by the minute - were discussing which of them was going to be lucky enough to take her to their room.

“Let’s all take her. We can take turns. She seems like a tough one.” The guard whose back was nearest to Percy grabbed her forcefully by the waist, trying to plant a kiss on her.

“Sorry darling.” Vex didn’t seem to lose her composure. “No game until you pay.”

“Oh come on! We need a little taste before we give up our money. Don’t be feisty.” One of them stood up, hovering over her. Two towering bodies cornered her in a split second, while the third one kept her firm with a massive arm around her.

“… Pike.” Percy’s brow was furrowed and he was instinctively reaching for his gun.

“Don’t worry, she will ask for help if she needs us to intervene. Believe me, I’ve known Vex for years. She’s really tougher than she seems.” But even though Pike’s voice seemed as steady as before, her eyes were fixated on the scene in front of them. Grog had also stopped drinking and had an expression of alertness, pretty much like a beast getting ready to attack.

And then he saw her look. Or at least he thought he had seen a look. A single glance of discomfort that had him freaking out immediately. He breathed once, twice, considering what to do. When his mind reached its own accord, he nodded to himself. Percy stood up and walked towards one of the corners of the place. One, two shots directed at random targets. One glass broke, a simple hat got blown up. That was all it took to start the brawl.

While Trinket launched at the three guards, Pike pulled out her sword and Grog started simply using his fists. Ducking under a table, Percival crouched and moved towards Vex, but he hadn’t been fast enough.

“You’re coming with us, love.” The man grabbing her by the waist was suddenly carrying her on his shoulders.

“The fuck I am.” Vex’s dagger was swift, but she was clearly overpowered and outnumbered.

“Well, well, well, someone’s pretty arse will be thrown into jail for obstruction.”

That was the last thing he had heard before someone had collapsed on top of him and he had lost sight of her and her captors. Trinket hadn’t had any luck either, returning to them some minutes after with an injured paw.

Now Vex’ahlia was being held at the stockades and they were all back on the ship, planning once again, sitting around Scanlan’s table.

“Leave this to me. No one interferes. I sneak in, I get her, I sneak out. Done. We got the papers, we don’t need to draw any more attention to us or they will find out.” Vax was adamant, and when it came to his sister, no one seemed to be able to deny whatever decision he made. Percy cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses.

“It’s too risky. There are more than three brute soldiers there. Do you think you can take them all? With your sister who is mostly unarmed and unprotected? It is madness.”

“It was too risky to go ahead n’ try n’ play prince charming, De Rolo, and that definitely didn’t stop you.” Vax’s stare was more piercing than his daggers at the moment. Percy, however, was not easily intimidated. Never had been. He just rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. “Grog, if you please? I need your help outside for one moment.”

Once he was alone with the massive man, he crossed his arms and leaned onto railing. “I’m having a thought, and I believe you will appreciate it. We need a distraction if we’re going to make this work, preferable of the explosive kind.” As imagined, that definitely peaked his crew mate’s interest.

Sneaking past the militia and knocking two poor devils out to steal the armour they wore as some sort of uniform was no challenge. Grog’s didn’t fit very well, but it was not like they were going to keep the clothes anyway. The artillery at the stockades was poor, to say the least, but Percy found what he needed after some minutes. The old cannon hadn’t been used for years, he could tell, but it couldn’t be that difficult to make it function. The wheels under the base that supported it needed a bit of mending, but Grog’s strength came in handy for that. He then proceeded to quickly pack the black powder and grab the ammunition.

“Listen to me Grog, as soon as we leave, I will fire this thing and you take care of the poor assholes that come running. I will go to the cells and get Vex out and then we run. Fast.” The man in front of him nodded, wide grin plastered on his face.

“Yeh, let’s fuck shit up.”

And so they did. As soon as the east part of the stockades blew up in the air, a group of more or less ten guards ran towards them without their armours and barely carrying any weapon. Grog practically cackled, and Percy nodded, leaving him to his fun while he moved towards the cells. It didn’t take him too long to find the entrance. Two guns in hand, he knew his distraction had worked when he didn’t find more than two or three guards on his way. He reached the prison and the sight there made him stop altogether.

Another couple of men were knocked out in front of an open prison door, key hanging from the lock. He easily recognised two of the ones who had been at the tavern previously. Unsure of what to do, he looked around, not knowing what to expect.

“My hero.”

Vex’s voice came from behind him, leaning against the wall, her lips curved in a smug smirk. So much for a rescue mission. She chuckled and walked towards him, her brown eyes scanning his form up and down. Percy’s cheeks felt warm again, and a sudden feeling of self-consciousness took over him. He held her gaze for a moment, before looking away at both his hands.

“Your bow was… a little complicated to bring along. We left in a rush. Can you handle one of these?” He handed her one of his guns.

“Come on darling, what kind of pirate would I be if I couldn’t shoot one of those? I’m just old school. Let’s get out of here while they’re paying attention to the BOOM.- wait, did you bring my hat?”

This time it was Percy’s time to chuckle. With a pompous bow, he passed over the three pointed hat to her. It was a gift from Scanlan, and from what he knew she was supposed to wear it every time she stirred the ship. Now it was just a habit. She gently placed the hat on her head. Her hair was back in her usual braid and the dress’ skirt was now turn to shreds, probably self destructed to give herself more mobility. She examined the gun closely for a second and just when he thought she was going to walk out of the place, she moved to stand even closer to him.

“Thank you. For everything. Really.” The smirk turned into a fond smile, and as she stood on her toes, he felt a soft kiss on his cheek that lingered one second more than it probably should have. But as fast as it came, it was gone. Vex was already going for the door and he stood there, blinking and touching the place where her lips had been with his now free hand. He snapped out of it right before she rolled her eyes and took his hand in hers, practically dragging him outside.

“Percival! we have to get going now!”

“Yes, of course, we just have to make sure to pick up Grog on our way out.”

#annavoigmarchen #critical role #cr au #perc'ahlia #vox machina #my stuff #writing prompts #drabbles #lucia writes #this got super long #also it feels weird after yesterday but there you go:)

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freecycleusa · 5 years

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New Post has been published on https://www.freecycleusa.com/to-bunker-or-not-to-bunker/

To Bunker, or Not To Bunker?

So it’s the middle of August and we have only a few months left before the November elections in the USA. I figured when you consider the possible ramifications of the elections it might be a good idea for another article on Prepping and Survival.

Today I want to talk about bunkers. I want to talk specifically about their use, intent, survivability and the pros and cons of a bunker being the central part of your survival plans in an SHTF event.

Bunkering is an ages old tactic of defense wherein a person or group of people pluck themselves away in a small shelter capable of providing security against the source of harm that is outside. I am guessing the first cavemen started this idea when large predators would come near them. I don’t know that for sure, but it seems like something plausible to me.

Today a bunker is much more than a small crevice where big things can’t get you. They range in size and scope from bad weather bunkers meant to support 2-4 people for a few hours to massive underground complexes capable of sustaining life for several years without intervention from outside sources. These bunkers can be homemade or commercial made and can range in cost from $10,000 to well over $1 million dollars. The vast majority of people that are planning to bunker themselves in an SHTF event are utilizing small to mid-size bunkers capable of supporting 4-6 people for roughly 6 months to a year.

Order Family Bunker Plans Here!

Why Bunkers?

I think many people lean toward bunkers because of natural instinct. Survival is often associated with hiding or remaining unnoticed and being underground in an enclosed container is certainly going to seem like a way to remain out of sight. Another factor is probably the belief that it would be easier to survive any chemical, biological, radiological or meteorological effects that might be associated with the SHTF event if you can just “batten down the hatches” and ride it out in your bunker. In a nicely appointed bunker, you can control your temperature, air quality, and sanitation through readily available systems that can be purchased for bunkers.

The Intent of a Bunker

In my opinion, bunkers were always intended for the short-term survival of an imminent or ongoing event. It wasn’t until the advent of nuclear weapons that bunkers became “long-term” survival solutions. Prior to Fat Man and Little Boy being dropped and the beginning of the Cold War, there was never really a reason for staying in a bunker for more than a few hours or perhaps a day. Once it began, however, there was no turning back.

During the Cold War bunkers were springing up all over the country. Nearly every town or city in the country had some sort of plan that involved bunkering for safety. Many people didn’t realize that these bunkers may help them survive the initial blast but they were not appointed with the proper supplies for long-term survival. These bunkers had very little in the way of stored food, no blast doors, inadequate sanitation, and no air filtration systems. Private citizens were even purchasing or building their own bunkering solutions, which although may have been more comfortable, wouldn’t have provided any more real safety than the public shelter.

The federal government has bunkers for long-term survival, but most of us won’t be in those, so let’s concentrate on private bunkers.

Survivability

This is a tough topic for bunkers. There are SO many different variables that must be taken into account in order to accurately determine the survivability of a bunker scenario. What some people consider strengths, others may consider weaknesses. Thus goes the argument and depending on which side of the fence you stand, the rest of this article may just piss you off. Suffice it to say I am simply trying to provide information in the hopes that people reading the article say “Hey, good point” and become a little better informed. So here we go…

In regards to general survivability, I think bunkers are great for immediate impact events that will hit and be gone. Again, this is subjective and must be taken with a large dose of common sense and the term “probability” comes into play. Most people don’t purchase or build bunkers in case of alien attack, it just isn’t a high probability event. Many people do however build bunkers in case of nuclear attack, asteroid impact or conventional attack/invasion. Some people build bunkers to live in during periods of social unrest and some people build them fully believing that an SHTF event is coming that will completely destroy the social fabric of this nation and toss all of the survivors into a post-apocalyptic survival scenario that looks like a cross between Mad Max, The Road and The Book of Eli.

I personally don’t feel that a bunker (again this is a commercial or private bunker, not a government complex) is a viable long-term survival option for many reasons. I feel that the graph of survivability in a bunker is a negative slope decreasing exponentially over time. Let’s talk about the cons of a bunker to get that out of the way.

CONS of Bunker Life

*Note these are in no particular order of importance or degree

Psychology

First, let’s talk about the psychological effects of bunker life. Although many people can eventually get used to living in the confined quarters of a bunker there are also many that will never get used to it. I have heard the argument “sailors do it on subs all the time” but that argument doesn’t hold water with me (pun intended) because a sub is absolutely HUGE in comparison to the bunker you are going to plant in your backyard or the woods behind your house. If you have small children then you need to really consider the effects on them as well. One thing you really don’t want to do is build your entire survival plan around a bunker just to have your kids spaz out on day three, five or ten.

One thing that is reported to happen as time progresses in a bunker type environment is that space seems to shrink in on the person. What is clearly 25 feet of walking space becomes 15, 10 or even 5 feet to your mind. Perhaps this could be countered by having a permanent line the length of the floor labeled with the distance every few feet… who knows.

If you lose your ability to tell time due to clocks losing power or watches not working, then your circadian cycle will get fouled up and time will stretch, according to most psychological experiments. What you perceive as 1 second may actually be as much as 5 seconds. In one experiment the subject had to count to 120 by 1, with each number spaced by 1 second. After just a few weeks in a cave, it took him 5 minutes to count 120 seconds.

Anyone that has ever lived in a small, cramped apartment knows how quickly you can lose your temper when there is nowhere to escape to be alone. I have three small children… yeah, I would lose my mind. On top of that, I have no idea how they would cope considering they can’t sit still for more than 30 seconds at a time without damn near exploding.

Security

At first glance, the idea of a bunker puts feelings of security, safety, and survival at the forefront of your thoughts. What could be better than having a hidey hole that you can jump into during an emergency?! Fill it with food and batteries and other goodies to keep you alive and happy and BAMMO! you’re a survivor! I have several problems with this line of thought.

A secure bunker has one way in and one way out, typically. First though, what if you are in the bunker and something happens that makes that route impassable? What could happen? Fire, Earthquake, metal fatigue, malfunction, blockage externally… there are more but I’ll stop there.

Let’s say you don’t experience any of those issues, eventually, you will run out of stored foods, water or other items that you will require. Foraging outside of the bunker will become necessary, which means entering and leaving the bunker. Anyone familiar with security operations knows that this process is dangerous because it can easily give away your hidden position. If Bill the Bad Guy sees you leaving or entering he can go get his friends and sit on that entrance until you return or go out again, thereby potentially gaining entry to your secure bunker by virtue of force or coercion.

Even if you are pretty slick and Bill the Bad Guy never sees you entering or leaving your secret bunker, eventually you will wear down a path leading him right to your door. A good tracker will notice the trail before you do, and even a bad tracker will notice a warn path. You may be safe and secure and take different paths to and from the bunker, but at some point, you have to converge on the entrance and there will be a path. Bill the Bad Guy sees it, sits on it and BOOM, your his.

So let’s say you have surveillance equipment watching the outside and you see Bill sitting on your bunker entrance waiting to catch you unaware. You still need to go out for supplies. You can wait till he’s asleep and hopes to catch him off guard and take him out, but what if he has friends? You’re a trapped rat. Maybe he gets tired of waiting and starts searching for a fresh air return for the bunker? Maybe he decides that you have pissed him off and just barricades or disables the door? There’s no limit to what can happen and the second someone knows where your bunker is at is the second your bunker becomes a liability.

Utility

In reality, there are very few long-term situations in which a bunker will serve as a proper shelter. Short term situations abound, so don’t think I am knocking bunkers as useless, I am not. Over the long term, your bunker becomes a trap if you return to daily. It becomes easily identifiable over time (if used constantly) and the area surrounding it becomes a telltale sign of habitation that can’t be missed. Once you run out of the stored food you need to start growing food. As this will probably not be possible internally, planting externally will become necessary. If you place your garden near the bunker, well… you can do the math on that. Placing your garden a good distance from your bunker seems wise, but then you have to constantly make the trek to and from, thus creating worn paths, and you also run the risk of increasing your operational area and running into people accidentally.

Basically, the point is that once you have to leave and return to your bunker on a regular basis it’s the advantage of being hidden is lost. If you come under any sort of assault or scrutiny you can simply walk away and try to come back another time, but if you are in the bunker when it happens, those options are eliminated.

Before anyone goes Rambo on me and says that a bunker if constructed properly, should include an area for cover and return fire I will simply say this if they know where you are, the battle is easily lost to you. Yes, you could outshoot them and survive but the odds are greatly in their favor if you are bunkered.

PROS of Bunker Life

GET STARTED BUILDING YOUR FAMILY BUNKER TODAY!

Bunkers are great for short term survival of life threatening events. If properly built, maintained and supplied they can be fantastic places to ride out a storm or event in relative comfort knowing you and yours are most likely going to be safe from whatever is happening outside. If you have enough money bunkers can provide enough space for light exercise, privacy for adults, decent sanitation and even entertainment if you have good sources for electricity and such. If you are going to build a bunker, I would say build it out for a good 30-60 day survival period if you have the money to do it.

The greatest thing about bunkers is that once they are built and stocked, they are relatively easy to maintain if they have only basic services. The more advanced the systems, the more regular maintenance is required to ensure the bunker performs as required when needed.

Bunkers are hidden places to safely ensconce your family when the SHTF. Now, before you jump on me for flip flopping please let me explain that statement. It is my opinion that bunkers should ONLY be used when a threat is imminent. Once the threat has passed I believe the bunker should be vacated and restored to pre-use status. Let’s break that out into two different examples to make it clear:

1) Bill and his family have a bunker behind their house and the entrance is in the rear corner of a medium sized garage. A tornado warning is issued and Bill grabs the family and runs to the bunker. They weather the storm and once the all clear is given, which they hear on their emergency radio, they leave the bunker and head back into the house. Great job, Bill.

2) Bill and his family watch in horror as the global economy crashes and the United States is plunged into civil war. The social fabric of this nation is destroyed and on the other side of the event emerges a country devoid of the central government and rife with lawlessness and strife. Bill and his family have prepared for this by building their hidden bunker and stockpiling it. Because they live in the country they continue their lifestyle and become homesteaders. Occasionally when someone comes through the area Bill will send his family into their bunker to hide while he stays behind to make sure the person doesn’t locate their goods or damage their property. If the intruder looks as though he is determined to cause harm, Bill may have to defend himself and his family.

Once the threat is removed, either by force or lack of interest, the family can return from the bunker when Bill gives them the sign it’s clear.

3) Same global scenario as number 2 above. In this event, a large group of intruders are seen making their way to Bill’s house. Bill and his family can either choose to run into their hidden bunker, or simply evacuate to a predetermined BOL and wait to see what happens.

a) Bill and the family run into the bunker and hide. The intruders find the garden and the well stocked home and decide to stay. If they find the bunker entrance, they will try to get inside. If they cannot get in they will most likely figure there are people inside and try to get them out. Hopefully, the intruders are peaceful and will be fine. Most likely they are not peaceful and Bill and his family are trapped like rats.

b) Bill and the family evacuate the farm and head to a secret BOL that was build two years earlier. From there they can either continue their evacuation to find a new place to live, or make plans to retake their farm from the intruders. Either way, they have choices.

Now, some people will say that you can use a story to go anyway you want it doesn’t mean it’s true. Those people would be right. Some people would say that because I prefer homesteads to bunkers, I am biased and this is all opinion. Those people would be mostly right.

The facts are simple, if you place yourself into a bunker and something bad happens, you have drastically eliminated the choices you have in regards to where you are going and how you are getting there. If you are homesteading and trouble comes, you have more choices. You can fortify firing positions which get you the advantage, you can build traps and obstacles, you can rely on help from trained dogs, you can move and use fields of fire to combat your enemies… choices.

Once you enter a bunker your choices are extremely limited. If you are unaware of the threat when you enter the bunker you have given your attacker the element of surprise unless you have maintained some form of external surveillance. Even if you know they are out there, you still have to enter and exit from a specific location, thus giving your attacker the tactical advantage.

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#Family Bunker Plans

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freecycleusa · 7 years

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To Bunker or Not To Bunker? Keep Your Family Safe!

Today I want to talk about bunkers. I want to talk specifically about their use, intent, survivability and the pros and cons of a bunker being the central part of your survival plans in a SHTF event.

Today a bunker is much more than a small crevice where big things can’t get you. They range in size and scope from bad weather bunkers meant to support 2-4 people for a few hours to massive underground complexes capable of sustaining life for several years without intervention from outside sources. These bunkers can be homemade or commercial made and can range in cost from $10,000 to well over $1 million dollars. The vast majority of people that are planning to bunker themselves in a SHTF event are utilizing small to mid size bunkers capable of supporting 4-6 people for roughly 6 months to a year.

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Why Bunkers?

I think many people lean toward bunkers because of natural instinct. Survival is often associated with hiding or remaining unnoticed and being underground in an enclosed container is certainly going to seem like a way to remain out of sight. Another factor is probably the belief that it would be easier to survive any chemical, biological, radiological or meteorological affects that might be associated with the SHTF event if you can just “batten down the hatches” and ride it out in your bunker. In a nicely appointed bunker you can control your temperature, air quality and sanitation through readily available systems that can be purchased for bunkers.

The Intent of a Bunker

In my opinion bunkers were always intended for short term survival of an imminent or ongoing event. It wasn’t until the advent of nuclear weapons that bunkers became “long term” survival solutions. Prior to Fat Man and Little Boy being dropped and the beginning of the Cold War there was never really a reason for staying in a bunker for more than a few hours or perhaps a day. Once it began however, there was no turning back.

During the Cold War bunkers were springing up all over the country. Nearly every town or city in the country had some sort of plan that involved bunkering for safety. Many people didn’t realize that these bunkers may help them survive the initial blast but they were not appointed with the proper supplies for long term survival. These bunkers had very little in the way of stored food, no blast doors, inadequate sanitation and no air filtration systems. Private citizens were even purchasing or building their own bunkering solutions, which although may have been more comfortable, wouldn’t have provided any more real safety than the public shelter.

The federal government has bunkers for long term survival, but most of us wont be in those, so let’s concentrate on private bunkers.

Survivability

In regards to general survivability I think bunkers are great for immediate impact events that will hit and be gone. Again, this is subjective and must be taken with a large dose of common sense and the term “probability” comes into play. Most people don’t purchase or build bunkers in case of alien attack, it just isn’t a high probability event. Many people do however build bunkers in case of nuclear attack, asteroid impact or conventional attack/invasion. Some people build bunkers to live in during periods of social unrest and some people build them fully believing that a SHTF event is coming that will completely destroy the social fabric of this nation and toss all of the survivors into a post apocalyptic survival scenario that looks like a cross between Mad Max, The Road and The Book of Eli.

I personally don’t feel that a bunker (again this is a commercial or private bunker, not a government complex) is a viable long term survival option for many reasons. I feel that the graph of survivability in a bunker is a negative slope decreasing exponentially over time. Let’s talk about the cons of a bunker to get that out of the way.

CONS of Bunker Life

*Note these are in no particular order of importance or degree

Psychology

First let’s talk about the psychological affects of bunker life. Although many people can eventually get used to living in the confined quarters of a bunker there are also many that will never get used to it. I have heard the argument “sailors do it on subs all the time” but that argument doesn’t hold water with me (pun intended) because a sub is absolutely HUGE in comparison to the bunker you are going to plant in your back yard or the woods behind your house. If you have small children then you need to really consider the affects on them as well. One thing you really don’t want to do is build your entire survival plan around a bunker just to have your kids spaz out on day three, five or ten.

One thing that is reported to happen as time progresses in a bunker type environment is that the space seems to shrink in on the person. What is clearly 25 feet of walking space becomes 15, 10 or even 5 feet to your mind. Perhaps this could be countered by having a permanent line the length of the floor labeled with the distance every few feet… who knows.

Anyone that has ever lived in a small, cramped apartment knows how quickly you can lose your temper when there is no where to escape to be alone. I have three small children… yeah, I would lose my mind. On top of that I have no idea how they would cope considering they can’t sit still for more than 30 seconds at a time without damn near exploding.

Security

At first glance the idea of a bunker puts feelings of security, safety and survival at the forefront of your thoughts. What could be better than having a hidey hole that you can jump into during an emergency?! Fill it with food and batteries and other goodies to keep you alive and happy and BAMMO! you’re a survivor! I have several problems with this line of thought.

Let’s say you don’t experience any of those issues, eventually you will run out of stored foods, water or other items that you will require. Foraging outside of the bunker will become necessary, which means entering and leaving the bunker. Anyone familiar with security operations knows that this process is dangerous because it can easily give away your hidden position. If Bill the Bad Guy sees you leaving or entering he can go get his friends and sit on that entrance until you return or go out again, thereby potentially gaining entry to your secure bunker by virtue of force or coercion.

Even if you are pretty slick and Bill the Bad Guy never sees you entering or leaving your secret bunker, eventually you will wear down a path leading him right to your door. A good tracker will notice the trail before you do, and even a bad tracker will notice a warn path. You may be safe and secure and take different paths to and from the bunker, but at some point you have to converge on the entrance and there will be a path. Bill the Bad Guy sees it, sits on it and BOOM, your his.

So let’s say you have surveillance equipment watching the outside and you see Bill sitting on your bunker entrance waiting to catch you unaware. You still need to go out for supplies. You can wait till he’s asleep and hope to catch him off guard and take him out, but what if he has friends? You’re a trapped rat. Maybe he gets tired of waiting and starts searching for a fresh air return for the bunker? Maybe he decides that you have pissed him off and just barricades or disables the door? There’s no limit to what can happen and the second someone knows where your bunker is at is the second your bunker becomes a liability.

Utility

In reality there are very few long term situations in which a bunker will serve as a proper shelter. Short term situations abound, so don’t think I am knocking bunkers as useless, I am not. Over the long term your bunker becomes a trap if you return to daily. It becomes easily identifiable over time (if used constantly) and the area surrounding it becomes a tell tale sign of habitation that can’t be missed. Once you run out of stored food you need to start growing food. As this will probably not be possible internally, planting externally will become necessary. If you place your garden near the bunker, well… you can do the math on that. Placing your garden a good distance from your bunker seems wise, but then you have to constantly make the trek to and from, thus creating worn paths, and you also run the risk of increasing your operational area and running into people accidentally.

Basically the point is that once you have to leave and return to your bunker on a regular basis it’s advantage of being hidden is lost. If you come under any sort of assault or scrutiny you can simply walk away and try to come back another time, but if you are in the bunker when it happens, those options are eliminated.

Before anyone goes Rambo on me and says that a bunker, if constructed properly, should include an area for cover and return fire I will simply say this, if they know where you are, the battle is easily lost to you. Yes, you could out shoot them and survive but the odds are greatly in their favor if you are bunkered.

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2) Bill and his family watch in horror as the global economy crashes and the United States is plunged into civil war. The social fabric of this nation is destroyed and on the other side of the event emerges a country devoid of central government and rife with lawlessness and strife. Bill and his family have prepared for this by building their hidden bunker and stockpiling it. Because they live in the country they continue their lifestyle and become homesteaders. Occasionally when someone comes through the area Bill will send his family into their bunker to hide while he stays behind to make sure the person doesn’t locate their goods or damage their property. If the intruder looks as though he is determined to cause harm, Bill may have to defend himself and his family.

Once the threat is removed, either by force or lack of interest, the family can return from the bunker when Bill gives them the sign it’s clear.

3) Same global scenario as number 2 above. In this event a large group of intruders are seen making their way to Bill’s house. Bill and his family can either choose to run into their hidden bunker, or simply evacuate to a predetermined BOL and wait to see what happens.

a) Bill and the family run into the bunker and hide. The intruders find the garden and the well stocked home and decide to stay. If they find the bunker entrance, they will try to get inside. If they cannot get in they will most likely figure there are people inside and try to get them out. Hopefully the intruders are peaceful and will be fine. Most likely they are not peaceful and Bill and his family are trapped like rats.

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#Family Bunker Plans

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