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#and Jimmy survives (for a while at least...)
russetfoxfur · 5 months
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mcyt is NOT beating the criminal allegations
- mumbo did season eight which. ah. produced the wonderful quote: "My parents are still alive... but that can be changed."
- cub eats people
- bad is a cannibal. this is different from eating people, according to my irl. do i want to know
- fit was on 2b2t
- wilbur blew up a country and killed a buncha people
- phil blew up that country too (apparently)
- scar. ah. scar did monopoly mountain and things went downhill from there
- dont even get me started on gem. she started the whole secret life apocalypse. she killed etho at least sixteen times. she is on tumblr which means tango is scared of her AS HE SHOULD BE
- sausage had that whole esmp s1 evil thing. classifying this as sausage because i watched an episode of gem's where he appeared and nothing else and don't actually watch esmp except through osmosis
- didnt joe hills kill a bunch of dogs in s7
- etho ALSO kills people but BADLY (scar boogie kill)
- dream
- *eyeing zedaph's chamber suspiciously* this violates AT LEAST one scientific law or something
- grian. grian my beloved. why are you like this
- jaiden decimated the environment of teyvat
- see lizzie is like her husband. unhinged. shes just bad at surviving so no one gets to see it
- jimmy is like lizzie but more popular for it
- tango is a war criminal but he also makes funny sounds while he commits crimes so i think that negates the whole crimes thing
- while we're at it. all the lifers are criminals EXCEPT SKIZZ EXCEPT SKIZZ EXCEPT SKIZZ
- xisuma boils chicken and eats kiwi skin. worst offense on this list by far
- gem gets a second place on this list because why not. she deserves it
- bdubs bites ankles. probably
- martyn brought the watchers to the life smp which is bad in and of itself. also the Assigned Criminal At Life Series thing
- cherrifire gets an honorary spot on this list mostly because she SHOULD be able to bite ankles. due to aforementioned martyn
anyways please tag w other crimes our blorbos have commited. cheers <3
EDIT: I will be adding more crimes now
- keralis was a capitalist in s7 who bought. rotten flesh. for 128 diamonds. truly exemplifying a billionaire there. dont worry dont worry. hes not a capitalist anymore....but he was once
- pearl poisons people and then has her dogs bite you. reasonable
- cleo does arson. she also kills people. but she does this a lot so it also negates the crimes
- don't mess with forgelabs
- ren has become a dictator at least twice. likes bloodshed. also treebark counts for all the anguish it causes everyone. also also ACALS (assigned criminal at life series)
ALSO if anyone is going to yell at me for fit being on 2b2t. i do not watch him. he is only here because my mcyt irls go insane about him. like all the time. in fact i don't watch qsmp or dsmp but theyre popular enough i know a bit about them. <3
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aquaquadrant · 4 months
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from eden, part IX (act I)
Word count: 11,504 Warnings: Blood/injury, violence, death, animal death, temporary dismemberment, dissociation, self-deprecating thoughts (not really, Jimmy’s just a listener and doesn’t know it), strong language, fictional racism/xenophobia, panic attacks Summary: The Double Lifers have successfully thwarted the invasion by Hels Tek, but not unscathed. Now that Tango’s been outed as Bravo’s doppelgänger, the remaining threads are starting to unravel, and Jimmy suddenly finds himself fighting to save Tango from his own inner demons. Can their love survive the fallout?
A/N: This took a ridiculously long time to write and got way longer than I’d originally intended so uhhh happy belated holidays? There’s a lot in this one that I’m excited to show y’all so I really hope u enjoy it, pls reblog/comment if u do, it means a lot.
Also this chapter has been split into two parts bc Tumblr is a hoe with a paragraph limit, link to the second half at the end. And as always, this is part of a series, so the previous chapters can be found on my au directory here. - Aqua
~*~
from eden, part IX (act I) - no tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony
~*~
Somewhere in Double Life, a player kneels in a bloody wheat field.
Jimmy’s senses are flooded with iron. He’s regenerated enough health that his nose isn’t actively bleeding anymore, but he’s sure it’s still all over his face. As he finally pulls away from Tango, he realizes he’s smeared plenty of it on Tango’s shoulder. The blood on Tango’s chin and claws hasn’t fully dried yet, either. And through his slightly parted mouth, Jimmy can see it’s stained his teeth.
(Did you see what he did back there?)
(He was like an animal.)
(How long do you think he’s been keeping that in?)
Jimmy pushes the thoughts away. Focus on the here and now.
To be fair, though, the ‘here and now’ is a horrible place. The ranch is burning behind them. His eyes are burning from the tears and the smoke in the air. His throat feels tight and scratchy. He’s physically and emotionally exhausted, the weight of it dragging him down, sinking into the trampled soil beneath him. The singed edges of his wings are still stinging, but it’s an easily forgotten pain among everything else.
Jimmy hates crying. Especially in public. Really, nothing makes him feel more useless and pathetic than crying. But he has to admit, he’s at least a little calmer and more clear-headed. Now that he’s cried himself out, his awareness is gradually returning to the conversation going on around him.
“What in’a world was that about?!” Bdubs cries out, sounding absolutely flabbergasted.
“Yeah, who were those guys, anyway?” Etho asks, knitting his brows together. “How’d they get here?”
Joel makes a distressed noise. “They shouldn’t be able to open a portal here, this is a private world!”
“I know, I know, okay,” Grian gripes, “I’m workin’ on it. Hang on-”
“And what was all that nonsense about doggelpangers?” Scar pauses. “Uh, dop- doppabang-”
“Doppelgängers?” Cleo calls over wryly.
Scar hangs his head. “Dang it. Yes, that.”
“I dunno, but what if they come back?” Joel asks nervously. “What should we do?”
Isn’t that the question?
Jimmy takes quick stock of his surroundings. Grian is standing a little way’s off from Jimmy’s huddle, head bent down as he furiously scrolls through his communicator, the screen reflecting in his tinted glasses. Scar is hovering next to Grian, peering keenly over his shoulder, his bow held limply at his side. Both of them look a little roughed up from the battle, but alright for the time being.
Etho, still crouched at the spot where Bravo died, is searching through the dropped items. Joel is pacing in front of the broken portal frame and casting anxious glances at it, one hand gripping his sword while the other rakes through his hair, antennae twitching with agitation. There are a few scrapes and gashes between them- mostly superficial and likely to heal on their own.
Pearl’s wolf pack has been considerably thinned out- something Jimmy notes with a pang of guilt- but there’s still plenty of them milling about the place. With blood-matted fur and tucked tails, it’s clear they took a beating. Pearl herself must’ve gone, from the way they sniff and look around aimlessly, giving plaintive yips and whines. Scott is conspicuously absent as well, another hint as to the bonded pair’s fate. Jimmy’s sure they’ll be along soon.
Bigb and Ren are also nowhere to be seen- likely more casualties of the battle. Ren makes for a rather large target when in wolf mode; he probably drew a lot of enemy fire. And of course, Bigb would’ve gone with him. Box is quite a way from the ranch, Jimmy recalls, so it’ll take them a few minutes to get back.
Martyn is busy mining up the rest of the portal frame, seeming none the worse for wear. Cleo sits a couple yards away, one leg stretched out in front of her. The other one has been chopped clean off at the knee, and is clenched in their hand- but wait, it does that sometimes, Jimmy reminds himself before he can panic. The detached limb isn’t even bleeding, and she’s already pulling some string from her inventory to stitch it back on, seeming more inconvenienced than anything else.
Bdubs, across the field, looks no more beat-up than he always does. He’s fussing over his horse, snatching up stray bits of wheat to heal as it struggles to get its legs under it. Impulse’s horse, devoid of rider, has wandered off towards the barn- perhaps hearing the other horses inside. Impulse himself is crouched beside Jimmy and Tango, his golden eyes intently studying the collar that’s been locked around Tango’s neck.
Tango is still completely silent. He doesn’t move or give any indication that he’s at all mentally present, just kneeling idly in the dirt, expression blank, eyes distant. Nothing but static through their soul bond. He doesn’t seem to be seriously injured- most of the blood stains aren’t his. That realization isn’t as relieving as Jimmy wants it to be.
Grian clears his throat. “Right. First thing’s first, are we all still here?” he asks, scanning his communicator. “No one went through the portal?”
“Nah, all good,” Martyn calls over his shoulder as the final obsidian block pops onto the ground.
Etho has his communicator pulled up too. “Yeah, uh, just looks like Scott and Pearl got killed,” he reports. “Ren and Bigb, too. I’ll shoot ‘em a message, see if they’re alright.”
“Right, okay.” Grian chews his lip, wings ruffling. “And all the other fellas are gone?”
Etho nods. “Yep.”
“Okay-”
“G,” Scar cuts in, tugging on Grian’s sleeve, “you gotta respawn before that injury sets in.”
Grian shrugs him off. Only now does Jimmy realize he’s holding one of his wings closer to his body than the others, the one that took an arrow during the fight. “Gimme a second-”
”Um, guys?” Martyn says suddenly, pointing at the ranch. “Fire tick is on, yeah?”
Grian looks up at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Hoo boy. Yeah, we need’ta get a ditch around the ranch, okay, or else the whole forest’ll go.” He casts a sidelong look at Jimmy, expression apologetic. “Tim, do you mind…?”
Jimmy shakes his head. “No,” he says hoarsely, “no, no, by all means. Whatever you need to… oh gosh, it’s all gonna go. It’s gone, isn’t it? It’s-” His voice breaks, and he quickly looks away, fresh tears welling in his eyes.
It wasn’t much, the ranch.
Only two floors- three counting the basement- and a bit tight on space. It wasn’t the most impressive build, not by a long shot. Certainly not when compared to the other builds on this world. It was something that would’ve taken two actually competent builders nothing more than a dedicated afternoon to put together. Plainly decorated, and comprised mostly of wood and stone variants. Nothing that’s particularly hard to obtain. And in all honesty, it was just a starter base; they were going to outgrow it sooner or later, anyways.
But it was theirs. 
It was the scorch marks in the wood from Tango’s blaze rods, in the moments where his emotions got away from him. It was the rocking chair where Jimmy liked to do his embroidery, when he needed to unwind after a busy day. It was the auto-sorting storage room that Tango spent weeks fine-tuning. It was the small but cozy living room that Jimmy decorated with potted flowers. It was the kitchen that always smelled faintly of charcoal, and the wool rug in the foyer that came from their own sheep, and the bedroom that they shared with an east-facing window to let them watch the sunrise together, on the rare days when Tango was awake early enough to see it.
The ranch is burning, and there’s nothing Jimmy can do about it.
(Great. Gonna start crying again, are you?)
(What exactly is that going to accomplish?)
(Man up! Don’t be so pathetic.)
A gentle hand on Jimmy’s shoulder makes him look up. Martyn is there, sympathy glimmering in his eye. “We’ll save what we can,” he promises.
Jimmy manages a grateful smile, blinking away his tears. “Thanks.”
Martyn nods before straightening back up. “Etho, Joel, you got water buckets on ya?”
“Oh, yeah.” Etho puts his communicator away as he and Joel start toward the ranch, buckets in hand. “Yeah, here, let’s make an infinite source..”
“Right. I’ll get the ditch started, then,” Cleo chimes in, rising to their feet now that both legs are once again intact.
Grian makes an appreciative noise, still tapping away at his communicator. “Okay, so that’s done-”
“Grian,” Scar says again, more insistently. “You gotta-”
“Hang on!” Grian huffs. He looks up to meet Jimmy’s gaze. “Okay, so uh, I can’t ban them… but what I’m gonna do is lock the world down,” he explains, taking a few steps over. “No one goes in or out… not even through a backdoor portal. This is just a temporary solution, but it should do the trick for now.”
Relief washes over Jimmy. “Thank you,” he murmurs.
(Good thing Grian is here to clean up your mess, huh?)
“Hey, guys?” Impulse speaks up, making Jimmy startle. “Um, Tango… he’s not lookin’ so good.”
That’s putting it kindly. Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Right. We should prob’ly get him inside, um…” He trails off as he instinctively looks at the ranch, which is on fire.
Right.
Impulse gives him a comforting look. “C’mon, you guys can crash at our place.” He rises to his feet, calling out, “Bdubs, would you bring the horses over?”
“Yeah, gimme a sec,” Bdubs shouts back. He’s finally gotten his horse standing again, glancing around for Impulse’s. “C’mere, stupid- hey! No, don’t wander off…”
“You finished, Grian?” Scar asks impatiently, notching an arrow.
“Okay, okay, hang on…” Grian presses a couple more buttons before putting his communicator away. “There, it’s done. Now, I’m gonna do some diggin’ and see what I can find out about this. But, um…” His gaze sweeps over Tango, expression pinched. “As soon as Tango is up for it… we all need to have a serious chat, okay?”
The wording immediately puts Jimmy off. He can feel his feathers bristling, his wings flaring out almost unconsciously to block Tango from view. “Wh- hey, this wasn’t his fault!” he protests.
Grian holds his hands up. “Ey, I know, I know,” he says lightly. His lower wings sweep out and flatten into a sort of fan as he crouches; an appeasing gesture. “None of us think that, okay? But clearly those guys came here for him, so we need’ta figure out why and how if we’re gonna figure out how to stop it from happenin’ again. Alright?”
Jimmy takes a breath, letting his feathers smooth over again. “Right. You’re right, sorry,” he mumbles.
(Wow, so defensive.)
(Like you could protect him, anyways.)
(Have you no faith in your own friends?)
Grian glances at Impulse. “You got them, Impulse?”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” Impulse assures him.
Scar draws back his bow. “Any day now, Grian…”
“Okay.” Grian turns around with an exasperated sigh. “Alright, Scar-”
He disappears in a puff of respawn smoke. Scar immediately follows him, his bow clattering to the ground amidst the shower of other items.
Impulse exhales in what might’ve been a laugh, if he didn’t sound so tired. He turns to Jimmy. “Can you stand?” he asks, holding out his hand.
(Look, they all think you’re weak, too!)
Jimmy feels himself flush. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, his tone short. Ignoring Impulse’s hand, he struggles to his feet unaided, wings flapping about to help keep his balance.
And then he feels incredibly silly about it. These are his friends, for goodness sakes.
“Thanks,” Jimmy adds, to soften it. “But Tango, I dunno if he… I mean, normally I’d carry him, but right now, I think- I think I’d drop him,” he confesses. Already, the effort of just standing on his own is starting to fatigue him.
Impulse just nods, a knowing look in his eye. “Yeah, no problem.” Slowly, he crouches down next to Tango again. “Hey, Tango, buddy?” he calls softly. “Can you hear me? It’s Impulse. I’m gonna pick you up now, if that’s okay?”
Tango doesn’t respond. Carefully, Impulse gathers Tango into his arms in a cradle hold- which Tango doesn’t react to besides curling in on himself a little more. His breathing quickens for a few seconds before he settles down again.
“Sorry,” Impulse whispers.
Jimmy swallows. He’s never known Tango to be so quiet, so still. It’s incredibly disturbing to see. And gosh, he knows Tango’s pale, but right now he looks about as white as quartz.
The events of this afternoon were a lot for anyone to handle. Jimmy’s still only working with bits and pieces, of course. He knows that Tango originally came from a terrible world called Hels, escaped from that creepy scientist guy Dr. Atlas, and has been hiding out on Hermitcraft ever since. So it’s not surprising that Tango got a nasty shock when his past suddenly came knocking at his door- literally, in Bravo’s case.
But Jimmy also knows that Tango is quite tough. He’s not the type to shut down in the face of hardship- in fact, he’ll often go the opposite direction, with manic bursts of frantic energy. So for a reaction this extreme… either that collar they put on him is having a more drastic effect than Jimmy realized, or there’s something more to the story he isn’t aware of.
Before the collar dampened their soul bond, the fear Jimmy felt from Tango had been damn near overwhelming. What could those Hels players have done to him to elicit such a strong reaction? Jimmy dreads to think of it.
The sound of hoofbeats pulls Jimmy out of his musings.
“Here I am!” Bdubs announces loudly, leading a horse by each hand. “Got the hawsies all ready t’go- oh, hey, waugh- what happened to him?” he gasps, his horrified gaze falling on Tango, wide eyes going even wider. “Wha’ th- is he okay?!”
Impulse gives him a tired smile. “Bdubs, I know we’re outside right now, but indoor voice, please? I’ll explain later.”
“Oh, okay!” Bdubs immediately drops into a stage whisper, ducking his head sheepishly. “Right, right, right, right, right, sorry.” He eyes Tango nervously for another moment. “Jeeze, they really… okay, okay, okay, right. Let’s go.”
With an appreciative look, Impulse moves beside one of the horses. Shifting his hold on Tango, he hikes one foot up into the stirrup and swings onto the horse’s back, forked tail lashing through the air.
Bdubs follows suit, climbing onto his own horse before glancing down at Jimmy. “Uh- you wanna ride wi’ me, Jimmy?” he asks, still whispering.
“That’d be great, thanks,” Jimmy says gratefully. Just the thought of walking or flying to their base makes him feel like all his bones have turned to slime.
His own attempt to get on the horse doesn’t go anywhere near as smoothly. With someone else already in the saddle, it’s a clumsy maneuver, his flailing wings more of a hindrance than anything. In the end, Bdubs grabs the back of Jimmy’s shirt and helps haul him up. That only makes Jimmy feel worse. Bdubs is so much smaller than him, how did he manage that?
“Okay…” Bdubs glances over his shoulder as Jimmy gets settled. “You alright back there?”
“Yep, yep, I’m good,” Jimmy says quickly. He clears his throat. “Can we- can we get goin’?” He’s anxious to leave this depressing scene behind and get Tango someplace calmer.
Bdubs nods. “Okay. Uh- hang on tight, and you’d better keep those wings folded or else you- you’ll be blown right off’a this thing!” He turns to Impulse. “We go now!”
“Alright, let’s go.” Impulse urges his horse forward, and Bdubs swiftly follows.
The horses gallop away from the ranch.
Jimmy does as he’s told, leaning forward to put his arms around Bdubs’s shoulders and tucking his wings tightly against his back. The jostling of the horse’s stride isn’t kind to his aching muscles and bones, but he’s not about to complain. Right now he feels completely out of sorts- like a stranger in his own skin.
As exhausted as his body is, his mind is absolutely racing. He can’t stop thinking about what Bravo said, that Tango was to blame for his being in Hels. And Tango hadn’t really denied it.
From what Jimmy can recall from today’s chaotic events, Tango used to be in Hels, and then a portal appeared. He went through it to Hermitcraft, and somehow, that got Bravo sent to Hels. That seems to be the conclusion they’ve come to. And Tango didn’t know about it at first, but he’s known about it for a couple years at this point, and said nothing.
(How selfish of him.)
But it wasn’t Tango’s fault! He didn’t intentionally send Bravo there, and he only kept his knowledge secret because he was afraid he’d get sent back himself if he revealed the truth. That’s… really upsetting. If Tango didn’t trust the Hermits enough to tell them, after spending nearly a decade getting to know them, it’s no wonder he didn’t tell Jimmy.
Has Tango spent this whole time feeling like a fugitive in his own home?
And what is Hels, really? What kind of world doesn’t allow portal travel in and out? The way they’d spoken about it, it almost seemed like a prison. But created by who? And why?
What exactly is a Hels player? What does a ‘doppelgänger’ entail, exactly? Because if Tango is supposed to be an evil version of Bravo, Jimmy is clearly missing something, ‘cause he doesn’t buy that for a second.
Do all players have a Hels counterpart? Does Jimmy? Oh, now there’s a disturbing thought. Is there another Jimmy running around in a prison world somewhere, locked away from the rest of the universe?
Now that he’s aware of the possibility, he isn’t sure this is something he can just forget about.
But he knows his questions will have to wait. Tango is hardly in the condition to be discussing any of this- getting him recovered from his shock is Jimmy’s first priority. He’s about to ask how far away they are when two figures appear in the distance.
It’s Scott and Pearl, on the way back from their respawns. Pearl is preoccupied, intensely scanning her communicator as she walks. But Scott spots them immediately, nudging Pearl with his elbow and lifting a hand to wave them over.
Impulse glances over his shoulder at Bdubs and Jimmy. “Guess we’d better go see what they want,” he says as he steers his horse towards the pair, Bdubs following suit.
Pearl looks up at their approach. Her respawn must’ve taken care of any injuries she sustained from the battle, because she seems like her usual red-eyed self. But there’s an unmistakable air of anxiety about her- one that Scott seems to share, based on his terse expression.
“Impulse!” Pearl shouts, as soon as she’s within proximity hearing range. “You seen Tilly ‘round?”
Impulse eases his horse to a stop. “Oh, uh- she’s the one with the dyed collar, right?” he asks, knitting his brows together. “Yeah, yeah I’m pretty sure she was back at the wheat field.” 
Pearl exhales heavily. “Oh, thank goodness. I- I lost so many dogs, I wasn’t sure…” She puts her communicator away, looking them up and down. “So uh, is everyone alright? Are… you guys alright?” she asks uncertainly, quirking a brow.
“We’re fine,” Impulse assures her easily. He jerks his head back in the direction they came from. “The others are dealing with the ranch right now, it’s uh… it’s a pretty big fire, I’m sure they’d appreciate some help.”
Pearl follows his gaze, eyes widening at the plume of smoke still visible above the trees. “Oh gosh, yeah, we’d better get goin’, then.”
“You alright, Timmy?” Scott speaks up suddenly. 
“Huh?” Jimmy startles at being addressed. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Mmm.” Scott doesn’t look convinced, his sharp eyes studying Jimmy’s face before flicking over to Tango. “Is Tango alright? Where’d tha’ thing on his neck come from?”
Jimmy’s heart jolts. “Um…” He isn’t sure how much he should be sharing with the others, while Tango’s incapacitated like this.
Luckily for him, Impulse cuts in. “Don’t worry,” he says gently, “we’ve got it covered. You guys go check in with the others, okay?”
It’s not a very subtle hint, but Scott allows it. “Alriiiight,” he drawls, holding his hands up. “Just remember you’ve got help if y’want it.”
“I appreciate it,” Impulse hums, but Jimmy catches the flash of relief in his eyes as he turns his horse away.
“Yeah, ‘preciate ya!” Bdubs echoes as they ride off.
They ride in silence for a few moments, until they’re out of proximity range, before Impulse clears his throat. “I just think Tango would appreciate some privacy right now,” he explains quietly. “You know everyone else- they’d all want to help and see if he’s okay, but a big group would probably freak him out.”
“Ah.” Jimmy nods. “Good thinkin’.”
(Gee, Impulse is really taking charge, huh?)
(You’re basically useless.)
(He would’ve been a way better soulmate for Tango than you.)
The thoughts make Jimmy flinch. He hasn’t often felt insecure in his relationship with Tango, despite having known him for a much shorter time than the Hermits. But right now, his general lack of knowledge and experience in how best to help Tango has become glaringly obvious.
Thankfully, before he can spend any more time feeling sorry for himself, Impulse and Bdubs’s house finally comes into view.
They’ve added another floor since Jimmy was last here. Floor-to-ceiling windows made of light gray panes curl around one side of the building, continuing with the sleek mid-century modern design. The front yard has received some landscaping as well; a wide, circular path that frames a small cluster of custom trees and shrubbery before leading to the dark oak door, framed by neat flower beds on either side.
As they come up on the house, Impulse and Bdubs turn their horses along a branch of path that veers off from the main circle, taking them towards a small structure built against the house’s side. Made only out of diorite wall posts and a flat, deepslate tiled roof, it creates sort of an overhang, divided into two compartments with warped stem fence posts. Its purpose quickly becomes obvious as Bdubs hops off his horse and pulls a lead from his inventory, leashing his horse to one of the posts.
Jimmy swings his leg around to slide off the horse, dropping onto the ground with an ungraceful grunt. In the stall beside them, Impulse has carefully dismounted from his own steed, still cradling Tango in his arms.
The longer Jimmy looks, the more his chest aches with longing. So he looks away.
“Alright, let’s get inside.” Impulse’s voice is soft. He turns back towards the front of the house. “This way.”
Bdubs finishes hitching the other horse to its post. “Right behind ya!” he chirps. He pats Jimmy on the arm as he passes- an encouraging, or perhaps comforting, gesture.
Either way, Jimmy appreciates it. He knows Bdubs tends to diffuse tense situations with humor, or by maintaining an energetic demeanor. It might be mistaken as inconsiderate, in some situations, but he seems to know where the line is. Genuinely, Jimmy thinks he’d feel worse if Bdubs was suddenly walking on eggshells around him.
Pity is a suitor that won’t take a hint, no matter how many times Jimmy turns it away.
He follows Impulse and Bdubs around the front of the house. Bdubs has already scrambled ahead to open the door for Impulse, whose arms are, of course, full of Tango. He ushers Jimmy in after them with a wide sweep of his arm.
They’ve moved their bedroom upstairs at some point, it seems. The main floor is now a dedicated living space with a modest kitchen in the back, overlooked by a loft from the second floor. An L-shaped lounge made of quartz stairs is built into the conversation pit occupying the center of the room, surrounding a small fireplace. The glass panes encasing it go all the way up to the ceiling, but the sight of fire makes Jimmy flinch anyways- which he immediately kicks himself for.
(Jeeze, man, get a grip! What if Tango saw that?)
If Impulse and Bdubs noticed, they don’t comment on it. Impulse silently leads the way up a spiral quartz slab staircase, which opens up into the loft. Bdubs’s interior work is clearly showing here, with cozy seating nestled beside a custom bookshelf-console unit. Straight ahead past the loft is a short hallway with a couple doors on either side.
Impulse stops at the first one on the right. “We got a spare room here,” he says, nodding his head at the door.
“Not finished yet!” Bdubs adds hastily, though still making an effort to keep his voice low. “Or uh, heugh- furnished. I’m gonna- I was gonna do the interior, I swear.”
Somehow, the fact that Bdubs is concerned Jimmy will judge his lackluster interior decoration- despite everything else going on right now- makes Jimmy crack a smile. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers, ey?” he jokes.
“Oh, very freaking funny!” Bdubs huffs, but he’s grinning, too. He opens the door for them, and Jimmy lets Impulse carry Tango inside before following.
The room is, as expected, fairly bare bones. Quartz walls and a dark oak floor carry over the mid-century modern theme from the exterior, but there’s no furniture other than a double-wide cyan bed against the wall. A couple of haphazardly-placed torches on the walls provide the room’s only lighting.
“No windows yet, either,” Bdubs mutters, clicking his tongue as his critical gaze sweeps over the room. “I need ta- I- I still gotta figure out how to place ‘em, with the exterior wall and stuff.”
“It’s alright,” Jimmy assures him. Windows would make him feel a bit too exposed right now, if he’s being honest.
Impulse carefully sets Tango down on the bed. “Okay, Tango, here we are.” He straightens up, running a hand through his hair as he exhales heavily.
Bdubs crosses quickly-but-quietly over to Impulse, wrapping him in a hug. “You okay, sweetie?” he asks softly.
Impulse smiles down at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry.”
“Okay.” Bdubs goes up on his toes to kiss Impulse’s cheek- and even so, he barely makes it. “I’m gonna go check on our boys, then, and see if the others need help with th- with the uh, the ranch. D’you- is there anything you want me to tell ‘em?”
“Yeah,” Impulse says thoughtfully, “maybe just let them know that we’d like to give Tango and Jimmy some privacy right now? We’ll let them know if we need anything, and we’ll chat more once everything’s calmed down.”
“Right, okay.” Bdubs glances at Jimmy. “That- is that good? For you?”
Jimmy is taken aback by the amount of consideration he’s being given. “Oh yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”
“Alright.” Bdubs casts one final look at Tango, trying but failing to hide his worry from those big eyes of his. “Alright, I- I’ll be back in a little.” 
He slips out the door, leaving them alone.
Before an awkward silence can descend, Impulse clears his throat. “So uh, looks like someone got you pretty good,” he says, gesturing to his face.
“Huh?” Confused, Jimmy brings a hand to his face- only to jerk away as his fingers brush against his nose. Now that he’s actually paying attention, there’s a dull ache of pain radiating down the bridge of his nose, and underneath the still-sticky blood, he can feel a prominent bump where there wasn’t one before.
“Oh, right,” he murmurs. “Forgot about that.”
“Yeah, looks broken,” Impulse says sympathetically. “Need a respawn?”
Jimmy pauses. It’s difficult to tell when an injury will result in lasting damage- no one’s really cracked that particular scientific riddle yet. But generally, it’s understood that the sooner the respawn, the better the outcome. That’s why things like creeper explosions hardly ever leave a mark, since the death is usually instant.
More so, superficial wounds tend to be less likely to scar than deeper, more structural wounds. A simple gash will almost always go away after respawning- if it hasn’t already healed on its own- but things like broken bones can linger in the form of scars, joint deformities, and chronic pain. If he’s being smart, he really should get a quick respawn in, just to be sure.
But they’re on the Double Life world, and right now, his life isn’t just his own.
Jimmy looks Tango over. None of his wounds are serious enough to warrant a respawn, he only got a little scuffed up in the initial attack. In his current state, it’d probably do more harm than good.
“No,” Jimmy decides, “I… I can’t do that to him, not right now. He’s disoriented as it is.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Besides, I think it’s just the cartilage. Either it’ll heal on my next respawn, or it won’t, and it’ll just match the rest of my face.”
Impulse doesn’t laugh at the self-deprecating joke, simply offering a sad smile. “Alright. I’ll see if Martyn can bring some healing potions by once they finish up at the ranch, I’m pretty sure he’s got a brewing set-up.”
Jimmy’s throat tightens. “Right, thanks…” He smoothes a hand over the bed’s cover, setting his spawn anyways, before he eases himself onto the mattress. “Tango…?” he ventures. “Are you alright? Can you hear me?”
Tango has yet to move at all from where Impulse deposited him, back against the wall with his knees tucked to his chest, arms limp at his sides. He doesn’t acknowledge Jimmy at all- which isn’t anything malicious on his part, of course, but god does it hurt.
Taking a deep breath, Jimmy tries again. “Hey, Tango? It’s me, it’s Jimmy.” He puts a gentle hand on Tango’s shoulder, watching him all the while for any sign that he’ll startle or panic. “It’s over, you’re safe now. Are- are you hurt anywhere? Do you need anythin’?”
Still nothing. Somewhere behind Jimmy, Impulse makes a noncommittal noise. “Jimmy, buddy, I don’t think that’s gonna work right now…”
Jimmy ignores him. “Please, Tango,” he pleads, feeling his eyes sting, “can you just…” Idly, he lifts his other hand to wipe some of the blood off Tango’s chin. “Can you look at me?”
Unexpectedly, that gets Tango’s attention. He lifts his face almost robotically to look at Jimmy, eyes and expression still devastatingly blank.
The sudden movement startles Jimmy, his hand jerking back. And as it does, Tango lets his head drop back down.
An image flashes in Jimmy’s mind; Atlas, the doctor with the blood red gloves, grabbing Tango by the chin and tilting his head up.
(Oh, that’s messed up.)
(You’ve really done it, now.)
(Brilliant, just brilliant.)
Jimmy’s stomach turns. He scrambles back, away from Tango, his heart starting to pound. “Sorry,” he whispers, even though Tango gives no indication that he’s hearing it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
A hand lands on his shoulder, making him jump. Impulse gives him an understanding look. “I… think he just needs some time to come out of it,” he says quietly. “Y’know, alone. When he shuts down like this, there’s really nothing to do but wait.”
Jimmy finds his voice again. “Wait, you’ve seen it before?” he asks, creasing his brows together.
Impulse winces. “A couple times, yeah.”
“Oh.” Jimmy swallows, glancing back at Tango. “I dunno, I- I don’t wanna just leave him like this…”
“We can stay right outside,” Impulse says reassuringly, folding his arms. “It’s just… when he gets like this, I’m not sure he’s fully processing what’s going on. It’s like a defense mechanism. So he’s not gonna come out of it until he feels safe, and um… well…”
It’s not hard to catch his meaning. Jimmy bristles. “What, are you- are you sayin’ he doesn’t feel safe with me?” he snaps, which is so unfair because Impulse has been so helpful and so kind and he’s actually sort of right, but Jimmy can’t help it.
Impulse holds his gaze. “Not if he doesn’t recognize you.”
That sobers Jimmy a little, his wings sagging. “Oh. Oh, yeah, good point. You’re right.” Ducking his head, he swings his legs off the side of the bed and rises to his feet. “I guess he’ll be okay in here,” he relents. “But um, can we- would you mind if we put out the lights? It’s just…”
“Tango feels safer in the dark,” Impulse finishes, realization dawning in his eyes. “Good call.”
“Yeah.” Jimmy fidgets with his hands as Impulse collects the torches.
(Wow, he really knows Tango, huh?)
(Thank god someone knows what to do.)
(What exactly are you even here for?)
With the room now sufficiently darkened, Impulse holds the door open for Jimmy. Jimmy gives Tango a final look-over, his blank face now lit by the dim glow of his dampened blaze rods.
“We’ll be right outside if you need us, Tango,” Jimmy says in parting.
Tango remains silent as Impulse closes the door behind them.
As soon as they’re back in the hallway, all of Jimmy’s fatigue seems to hit him at once. He sways where he stands, shoulder bumping against the wall- the dull pain is easily ignored in favor of the black spots dancing across his vision. He squeezes his eyes shut, biting back a groan.
Fortunately, Impulse is there to steady him. “Woah, easy there.” He quickly guides Jimmy over to the loft to sit down. “Just breathe, okay?”
Jimmy takes a few slow, deep breaths- in through the nose, out through the mouth. When he opens his eyes again, the room is no longer spinning around him, so that’s a plus.
“Here,” Impulse presses something into Jimmy’s hand, “you must’ve worked up some hunger.”
It’s a golden carrot. “Thanks,” Jimmy murmurs, immediately starting to nibble on it. He probably does have food on him, somewhere in his inventory- cooked steak, most likely- but the extra saturation helps.
Seemingly satisfied that Jimmy isn’t going to pass out, Impulse sits down in the chair next to him. “How you feelin’?”
“Better, thanks,” Jimmy murmurs, shifting to fold his wings a bit more comfortably. He feels awkward and just… so out of place here. And Impulse is a nice guy, sure, but it’s a little embarrassing to have to be taken care of like a child. If it weren’t for Tango’s sake, he probably wouldn’t have accepted Impulse’s offer of help in the first place.
“Good.” Impulse looks him up and down, brows pinching together. “Jeeze, they really did a number on you. I’m sorry we weren’t there sooner, chat was chaos and we thought they’d be at spawn ‘til we saw your SOS.”
That comforts Jimmy a little. At least he managed to do something right. “It’s alright, not your fault,” he assures Impulse. “I mean, if you guys hadn’t come when you did…”
“Yeah.” Impulse nods solemnly. “That, uh… would’ve been pretty bad.”
Jimmy studies Impulse for a moment. Now that they have a second, there’s a question that’s been nagging at him. “So…” he starts, “how much did you hear, of what Bravo said?”
“Eh, bits and pieces.” Impulse shrugs. “Something about Tango being an evil doppelgänger from Hels.”
He says it so casually, like he’s talking about the weather. Jimmy’s stomach cinches. “Impulse…” he says carefully. “Did you… did you know?”
“What?” Impulse looks at him in surprise. “Oh, that Tango was from Hels? No. No, I never knew anything about before he came to Hermitcraft. But you know, I always kinda knew there was something… not great in his past. I mean, there were signs. I just figured he’d come from an anarchy server or something.” He knits his brows together. “I guess you… never saw what he was like, when he was still new, huh?”
Jimmy frowns. “Wha’d’you mean?”
Impulse makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s not my place to get into all that. But let’s just say… he’s come a long way since then. So um, looking back, it kinda makes sense.”
“So then…” Jimmy hesitates. “D’you believe what Bravo was saying? About what Hels are like?”
Impulse actually laughs- though not unkindly. “Oh, no, not by a long shot,” he assures Jimmy. “Don’t worry about that. I mean, there are players who think non-humans are bad, right? Like, there are still public servers out there that’ll ban Cleo soon as she joins, just for being a zombie.” He shrugs a shoulder, his forked tail idly flicking through the air. “Or me, for being a demon.”
“Oh.” Jimmy blinks, feeling stupid. “Right. It’s… so easy to forget, sometimes, that some folks still feel that way.”
Impulse tilts his head. “Well, not when you have to live it,” he says lightly.
“Oh. Oh!” Jimmy smacks his forehead. “No, no, right, of course,” he adds hastily, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it’s easy for you specifically to forget. Just, in general, I guess. ‘Cause most players don’t have that problem with avians- I mean, sometimes they think some of our traits are weird, sure, but uh- but it’s not the same thing, cause we aren’t hostile mob hybrids. Obviously. And- and none of my friends feel that way, either, so I just…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m not makin’ a lotta sense.”
Impulse gives him a gracious smile. “It’s okay, I know what you mean.” He leans back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. “I’ve gotten so used to Hermitcraft, sometimes it catches me by surprise when I travel to public servers and people act scared, or… distrustful of me. And that’s without even seeing me in ‘full demon’ mode. So uh, even though I don’t know anything about this Hels world, I don’t believe that just being from there would automatically make someone evil. I know Tango better than that.”
Jimmy’s throat tightens. “Right…”
Now it’s Impulse’s turn to give him a sideways look. “... you don’t believe what Bravo said, do you?” he asks, voice low.
“What?” Jimmy blanches. Despite himself, he feels his wings puff up with indignation. “Gosh no, no, that’s- not in a million years, mate, it’s utter nonsense!”
“Alright, alright, sorry,” Impulse chuckles, holding his hands up. “I didn’t think you would. But you know, I just had to make sure.”
“Yeah.” Jimmy sighs, letting his feathers smooth down again. “You’re a good friend, Impulse,” he says, glancing away. “Seems like you know what to do, here. He’s gonna need that.”
“He’s gonna need you.” 
That makes Jimmy look up. “What?” 
Impulse’s expression softens. “I’ve known Tango a while, now, and even though there’s been plenty of fun and good times over the years… this is the first time I’ve seen him truly content. Like, he just seems at peace in a way I’ve never seen before. You do more for him than you’ll ever know- probably ‘cause he’s too scared to tell you.” There’s a knowing glint in his golden eyes. “Emotional vulnerability, uh, isn’t exactly his strong suit.”
A bittersweet smile tugs at Jimmy’s mouth. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
Impulse claps him on the shoulder. “We’re gonna figure it out, okay? You guys aren’t alone in this.”
Warmth blooms in Jimmy’s chest. “Thank you, Impulse,” he says softly, “I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Impulse returns his smile before sitting back in his chair. “Now, how about you get some rest?”
Jimmy’s heart jolts. “Wh- no, wait,” he protests, “I’m not gonna leave-”
“You can stay right here!” Impulse assures him easily. “Just close your eyes and rest a bit. I’ll keep an eye out, and wake you up as soon as Tango comes to, okay? But right now, frankly, you look exhausted. And I’m sure you’ll wanna be well-rested for whenever Tango’s ready to talk about stuff.”
“Ah…” Chewing his lip, Jimmy glances over at the door to the spare room- mere steps away.
Since he forewent a respawn, he has to admit some shut-eye would be quite welcome at the moment. The immediate danger has passed. And right now, there’s nothing he can do to help Tango but give him some time. Might as well spend that time resting.
“I… suppose you’re right,” he relents finally. “But you gotta promise you’ll wake me if anythin’ happens, alright?”
Impulse nods. “I promise.”
“Right, then.” Jimmy settles into his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He fights back a yawn. “Thanks again. I- I mean it though… any little thing…”
“I know, I know.” Impulse waves him off. “Don’t worry.”
“Famous last words,” Jimmy quips, closing his eyes.
Impulse huffs a laugh but says nothing else.
Silence settles over the room, filled only by Impulse’s steady breathing and the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of him typing away on his communicator. He’s probably updating the others on the situation, so Jimmy can rest easy. He’s considerate like that.
Jimmy would’ve thought it’d be hard to fall asleep. This chair isn’t exactly built for it, and as lovely as Impulse and Bdubs’s home is, it’s not the ranch.
The loss is still fresh. He already knows it’s gonna hit him even harder in the coming days. But for right now, the post-adrenaline exhaustion is finally sinking in, and before he knows it, he’s drifted off into the inky blackness.
~*~
A gentle hand on Jimmy’s shoulder startles him awake.
“Jimmy,” Impulse whispers, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness, “wake up.”
It must’ve been quite a deep, dreamless sleep, because while it seems to Jimmy that he only just closed his eyes, he can clearly see through the window that it’s been at least several hours. The sun has long since set; a half moon is rising in the night sky. That’s alright with Jimmy- he was afraid he’d have nightmares.
Rubbing his eyes, Jimmy squints at Impulse. “What’s goin’ on? Everythin’ okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Impulse scratches the back of his head. “I uh, I just heard a thud in Tango’s room so I went to check on him and- he’s fine, don’t worry!” he adds quickly, as Jimmy bolts upright. “He’s fine, he’s up, but he still seems kinda disoriented? Like, he’s conscious, but when I tried to go in… I guess I look a bit too intimidating,” he taps one of the curved horns poking out from his hair, “‘cause he growled at me.”
“Growled?” Jimmy repeats, raising his eyebrows.
(Well, that’s promising.)
(Round two!)
(Here we go…)
“Yeah.” Impulse gives a sad smile. “So um, I think you should go try and talk to him, if you’re up for it.”
“Oh.” Jimmy blinks. “Oh, right, of course.” He rises to his feet, shaking off residual soreness from his awkward sleeping position.
Impulse pulls a lantern from his inventory and holds it out to Jimmy. “Give a shout if you need anything.”
Jimmy takes the lantern. “Right, thanks.” Steeling himself, he creeps over to the spare room, knocking lightly on the door- which is slightly ajar. “Tango…?” he calls softly, poking his head into the room. “You okay?”
The bed is empty, covers strewn in disarray. Tango is crouched in the corner farthest from the door, his back pressed against the wall. Hunched over and breathing hard, he stares at Jimmy, his blood-stained face lit by the faint glow of his blaze rods. His pupils are dilated again, lips curled back to show his teeth. There’s no recognition in his expression at all.
(You cannot sleep, there are monsters nearby.)
Jimmy swallows. His heart starts to pound. “Tango,” he starts tentatively, holding the lantern up so his face is clearly illuminated as he steps forward, “it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Tango makes a blaze noise deep in his throat; a haunting, hollow sort of growl. It’s unmistakably a warning.
Jimmy hesitates, wings shuffling uncertainly. How to get through to him? General reassurances don’t seem to be working. He needs to remind Tango of where he is, to convince him that he’s safe- in a way that only Jimmy would know.
He takes a breath. “Hey, rancher.”
Tango falls silent. Surprise flickers across his features, mouth parting, gaze sharpening. For a moment he just stares, motionless. Then he squints.
“... Jimmy?”
Oh, Jimmy could cry. “Yes, there we go!” he says encouragingly. “It’s me, it’s Jimmy. You okay, Tango?”
Tango’s breath hitches. He takes a single, careful step forward- then he halfs runs, half stumbles towards Jimmy.
Jimmy rushes to meet him, catching Tango before he falls. “Oh jeeze, okay…” Setting the lantern down on the bed, he lowers them to the floor, shifting so he can wrap Tango in his arms. “It’s alright, it’s alright…”
“Jimmy, thank god.” Tango clings to him just as tightly, face buried in Jimmy’s shirt. His claws dig into Jimmy’s skin just shy of being painful. “I- I woke up,” he gasps, “and the quartz- I thought I was…” He pulls away enough to scan Jimmy’s face, eyes wide and frightened. “Where are we? What- how long has it been?”
Jimmy knits his brows together. “Uh- we’re at Impulse and Bdubs’s place, and it’s been… several hours, I think? Half a day?”
“God.” A shudder runs through Tango. “That- that really happened, didn’t it?” He starts to breathe faster, his voice straining into that faint upper pitch that Jimmy’s come to associate with panic. “Oh god, I- I- I don’t- hhh, I c- can’t…”
“Hey, hey, breathe,” Jimmy soothes, rubbing circles on Tango’s back. “I’m here, you’re safe. It’s over. Just breathe.”
They stay like that for a while, Tango curled against Jimmy as he rides out the worst of it. He shakes violently, eyes squeezed shut, breath hitching as he tries to get control of it again. Jimmy’s heart aches for him- he wishes there was something more he could do to help.
But he knows from experience that just being here is enough.
It’s not terribly infrequent for Tango to have nightmares. Sometimes he simply startles awake at night, apologizes for waking Jimmy up, and goes back to sleep. If Jimmy asks about it the next morning, he brushes it off as nothing; just silly nonsense nightmares, the kind that are terrifying at the time but seem utterly ridiculous in the light of day. Nothing more than that.
And all this time, Jimmy believed him.
(What a fool.)
Jimmy’s only ever seen a couple nightmares cause a reaction as severe as this. The shaking, the shortness of breath, the panic. What helped in the past was simply holding Tango- offering a few reassurances, but mostly silent comfort. And of course, Tango never wanted to talk about those nightmares, and Jimmy didn’t want to push too hard. He’d figured that Tango would talk to him about it when he was ready.
(Fool me once, shame on you…)
Gradually, Tango calms down. His tremors cease, and his breathing starts to grow deeper. He’s still holding onto Jimmy, but it’s less desperate, now. More familiar. Jimmy curls his wings around them, as if providing another barrier, another layer of security.
After Tango’s been still and quiet for a few moments, Jimmy softly breaks the silence. “How much d’you remember?”
Tango takes a shaky breath. “All of it,” he whispers. “E- everything, I was- it was like I- I was watching everything happen to someone else, like I was outside my body…” He looks up to meet Jimmy’s gaze, eyes brimming with tears. “Jimmy, I- I’m so sorry.”
“What?” Jimmy frowns. “Tango, what on earth are you apologizing for?”
Abruptly, Tango pulls away. “I burned you,” he grits out.
“No, you-” Jimmy almost grabs him by the arm, but then thinks better of it. “That wasn’t your fault.”
Tango stares at him incredulously. “Wha’ th- what do you mean? Of course it was!” He rakes his claws through his hair. “I- I lost control, I set the ranch on fire, and you got burned.”
“That’s not the same thing,” Jimmy argues. “You didn’t do it on purpose, you were just defending yourself.”
“Doesn’t matter!” Tango throws his hands up. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten burned, true or false?”
(True!)
(He’s got a point…)
(Why are you arguing this?)
Jimmy doesn’t answer. “Look,” he says instead, “honestly, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine!”
“Well, you don’t look fine!” Tango says bluntly. Distress flashes across his face as he looks Jimmy up and down. “Your poor wings- and oh, your face! What, did- we didn’t respawn?”
Jimmy ducks his head. “I didn’t wanna put you through that,” he explains, wincing.
He can actually see the guilt in Tango’s eyes intensify. “Ohhh no,” he breathes, dismayed. “You- why did you…” Shaking his head, he fixes Jimmy with a firm look. “Okay, you- you need to respawn, now.”
“It’s not important,” Jimmy replies, just as stubbornly. He holds a hand out, beseeching. “Tango, please, I- I’ve been worried outta my mind about you. So much happened- ”
“I’m fine,” Tango says shortly.
“No, you’re not,” Jimmy insists, working hard not to raise his voice. “I mean, honestly, I- I don’t even know what that thing ‘round your neck is doin’!”
Tango shuts his mouth with a sharp click and glances away. 
That sobers Jimmy instantly. Tentatively, he scooches a bit closer to Tango. His eyes trace the collar- it’s so deceptively simple, so innocuous at first glance. Just a ring of smooth, flat iron. But clearly, there’s a lot more going on; a single red light above the keyhole hints at a mechanism hidden within.
“Do you… know what it is?” Jimmy ventures, giving Tango a searching look.
Tango’s jaw tightens. “It’s wither rose.”
Jimmy blinks, taken aback. “What? But… we aren’t withering, we aren’t takin’ damage-”
“It’s not…” Tango makes a noncommittal noise, waving a hand in an aborted gesture. “They’ve modified it, somehow, I dunno. It- it’s not the full effect. All it’s doin’ is dampening my fire.”
“And our soulbond,” Jimmy realizes, his stomach sinking. “After he put it on you, I- I couldn’t feel your emotions anymore. It’s just… numb.”
Tango’s face is grim. “That’s what wither rose does,” he says lowly.
The certainty in his voice is… somewhat concerning. Sure, any player who’s been ‘round the block will have learned what it feels like to be withered, at some point or another. But due to the tedious and somewhat risky nature of obtaining the roses by way of a wither farm, most players don’t regularly encounter them. And as far as aesthetics are concerned, they aren’t the most appealing flower, so when they are farmed, they’re mostly used for mass-producing black dye or as the killing method in a mob farm. Not as decor or landscaping, where a player might actually touch the rose and be subjected to the wither effect.
Personally, Jimmy can’t remember the last time he touched a wither rose, as a player who doesn’t make a habit of farming withers or even taking on the boss fight. But the tone of Tango’s voice right now is the tone of someone who is horribly familiar with the sensation.
“Tango…?” Jimmy prompts quietly. “Is there… somethin’ I should know?”
Tango swallows. He’s avoiding Jimmy’s eyes. “I… I don’t wanna talk about it,” he whispers hoarsely. “Not right now?”
It’s almost a plea, and Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Okay. That’s okay,” he says gently, forcing down his disappointment; this isn’t about him. He rises to his feet, holding out his hand to Tango. “Here, come on, let’s… let’s get up on the bed, alright? It’s late, you need some proper rest.”
Tango hesitates, though he accepts Jimmy’s offered hand to help him up. “You need to respawn…”
“It can wait,” Jimmy says easily. He tries for a grin. “Honestly, I- I already knew I wasn’t exactly easy on the eyes, but I didn’t think it was that bad…”
“No,” Tango says quickly, “no, you’re not-” He makes a frustrated noise. “Your wings.”
Jimmy softens. “They’re just feathers. They’ll grow back.”
Sure, it might take a while if his follicles have been badly damaged, and his wings won’t be a pretty sight once all the burned feathers fall out. But most of his flight feathers are still intact, so in terms of places to get burned, it could’ve been much worse.
Tango huffs a breath, clearly still upset with himself. But he doesn’t protest further as Jimmy eases onto the bed, gently pulling Tango with him. After collecting the lantern so the room is properly dark again, Jimmy nestles under the covers, sweeping a wing out to lightly gather Tango beside him.
Tango settles against him, and it’s then that Jimmy realizes he isn’t as warm as he used to be.
He’s not cold, not by any means. But Tango has always run a bit hotter than the average player- a blaze hybrid trait that Jimmy’s quite fond of. It was the whole reason they first shared a bed, back in the early days of the world, and inadvertently plunged their relationship into new, terrifying depths. If it wasn’t for that moment, they likely would’ve danced around the issue for far longer, and been robbed of many precious days of happiness together. So even on warm nights, Jimmy will still cuddle up beside Tango. Even if he has to kick all the blankets off.
But with the collar dampening Tango’s fire, he’s been robbed of that, as well.
Jimmy swallows the lump in his throat and puts an arm around Tango, who curls into his side, head resting on his shoulder. Having Tango so close is immediately comforting. God, to think of how close he came to losing this, to never holding Tango again… 
It’s scary. It’s incredibly scary. There are few things in the universe that can really, truly cause lasting harm to a player. Injuries can heal upon respawn, death isn’t permanent- except for worlds where it is, then they just respawn on a different world and start again. But if those Hels people had succeeded in taking Tango through that hacked portal, into some isolated prison world that Jimmy has no way of finding… he’s afraid that would’ve destroyed him.
Jimmy turns his head to press a kiss onto Tango’s forehead, right between the dimmed blaze rods hovering around his temples. “Goodnight.”
“Night,” Tango whispers back.
The room grows silent. Jimmy stares up at the dark ceiling. His earlier tiredness has up and left him, his mind racing, plagued by thoughts of what might’ve been. It’s all he can do to reassure himself that it’s over, that Tango’s safe and still here with him.
That for once, he was lucky.
(For how long, though?)
He isn’t trying to stay awake. And he isn’t pretending to be asleep, either, just laying quietly with his thoughts. But at some point Tango must think he’s nodded off, because only then does he start to cry.
It’s a quiet sound. Just the sharp inhale and exhale of breath. Jimmy might not have even known he was crying if it wasn’t for the way his shoulders shake, and the sudden dampness seeping into Jimmy’s shirt. 
It takes all of Jimmy’s willpower not to console Tango, to hold him tighter and offer hushed reassurances. There’s a reason Tango waited until he thought Jimmy was asleep- he’s very much the kind of person who prefers to show emotion on his own terms. If he knew Jimmy was awake to witness this, he’d completely shut down again. And he needs this.
So Jimmy pushes down his own emotions and does nothing as his soulmate cries, trying not to move or start crying himself as the guilt for being so useless eats him alive.
(Sweet dreams…)
~*~
Morning comes, eventually.
At least, as far as Jimmy can tell by his internal clock. The room he wakes up to is still fairly dark- just a slim beam of light coming in from the hallway through the cracked door. Impulse must’ve done that to better keep an ear out for them overnight. Thoughtful guy. Tango is sleeping deeply next to Jimmy, and the sight is quite comforting.
It seems they’ve kept with their usual sleeping habits, even without a sunrise to greet them.
Carefully, without jostling Tango, Jimmy pulls up his inventory to grab his communicator. He can’t recall hearing it go off, but he wants to make sure there isn’t anything that urgently requires his attention. He’s surprised, however, to find a potion of healing; Impulse must’ve slipped it to him while he was sleeping.
A smile tugs at Jimmy’s lips. He’s long since regenerated his health, but the potion ought to help with his lingering injury. He downs the potion quickly, grimacing at the cloyingly sweet note of melon. It doesn’t take long for a cooling sensation to settle over his broken nose. When he gently probes at it, he can feel it’s still a little crooked, but at least the pain is gone.
Putting the empty bottle away, Jimmy digs out his communicator, squinting against the blue light. No one’s used chat lately or sent him any whispers- it seems they’re taking the request for privacy quite seriously. But there is the backlog from yesterday waiting for him. It takes him a minute just to scroll back to where it all began.
Bravo joined the game.
<Grian> ey??
AtlasSyn joined the game.
Tyrannicide joined the game.
Phantonym joined the game.
<Grian> EYY????
Helfyre_004 joined the game.
<PearlescentMoon> Ummm?
<Renthedog> What the heck??
CRIMETIME joined the game.
t3rr0r_b1te joined the game.
EbonyHelmentia joined the game.
baddomen666 joined the game.
<InTheLittleWood> WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!?
staluggmite joined the game.
PwrPlayz joined the game.
<PearlescentMoon> Hello??
XxSLAYERxX joined the game.
Vexed2theMax joined the game.
ApexGamer98 joined the game.
<Smajor1995> wait how is this happening
<PearlescentMoon> Raid?? D:
SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.
ne’er_do_hels joined the game.
<Grian> i don;t know??
Jaffu joined the game.
<Grian> theres no one at spawn???
<Etho> woah!
<SolidarityGaming> SOS RSNCH
<Smajor1995> oh no
<Renthedog> What??
<Smallishbeans> rsnch lol
<GoodTimeWithScar> G come pick me up
Tyrannicide was slain by Tango.
staluggmite was slain by Tango.
Phantonym was slain by Tango.
<InTheLittleWood> Wait WHAT?!?!?!?!?!
<Smallishbeans> NO WAY
<BdoubleO100> OHHHHHHH
<Grian> EVERYONE TO RANCH
<ZombieCleo> what is happening???
staluggmite joined the game.
Tyrannicide joined the game.
<Smajor1995> omw cleo
Phantonym joined the game.
<impulseSV> Etho, Joel, our place?
<Renthedog> BigB where you at??
<bigbst4tz2> coming
SheHelsSeaHels was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]
EbonyHelmentia was shot by Smajor1995.
XxSLAYERxX was slain by impulseSV.
CRIMETIME was slain by Wolf.
t3rr0r_b1t3 was slain by Renthedog.
Jaffu was doomed to fall by ZombieCleo.
SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.
ne’er_do_hels was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]
Tyrannicide was slain by Renthedog.
XxSLAYERxX joined the game.
EbonyHelmentia joined the game.
CRIMETIME joined the game.
Phantonym was slain by Etho.
t3rr0r_b1t3 joined the game.
ne’er_do_hels joined the game.
XxSLAYERxX was slain by Wolf.
Jaffu joined the game.
Helfyre_004 was slain by Renthedog.
Vexed2theMax was slain by bigbst4tz2.
Tyrannicide joined the game.
XxSLAYERxX joined the game.
Jaffu was slain by Renthedog.
SheHelsSeaHels was slain by Wolf.
bigbst4tz2 was shot by AtlasSyn.
Renthedog died.
Phantonym joined the game.
baddomen666 was slain by Wolf.
SheHelsSeaHels joined the game.
Jaffu joined the game.
PwrPlayz was slain by InTheLittleWood.
Helfyre_004 joined the game.
Vexed2theMax joined the game.
staluggmite was slain by Smallishbeans.
Helfyre_004 was shot by Smajor1995.
EbonyHelmentia was slain by Wolf.
PwrPlayz joined the game.
ApexGamer98 was slain by PearlescentMoon.
baddomen666 joined the game.
PwrPlayz was slain by Wolf.
Jaffu was slain by Wolf.
baddomen666 was shot by Smajor1995.
EbonyHelmentia joined the game.
Vexed2theMax was slain by InTheLittleWood.
PearlescentMoon was shot by AtlasSyn.
Smajor1995 died.
Helfyre_004 joined the game.
ApexGamer98 joined the game.
SheHelsSeaHels was slain by Wolf.
ne’er_do_hels was slain by Wolf.
baddomen666 joined the game.
Vexed2theMax joined the game.
Helfyre_004 was slain by Wolf.
baddomen666 was slain by impulseSV.
CRIMETIME was slain by Smallishbeans.
Phantonym was slain by Wolf.
Vexed2theMax was slain by Wolf.
t3rr0r_b1t3 was slain by Wolf.
ApexGamer98 was slain by BdoubleO100.
Tyrannicide was slain by Wolf.
EbonyHelmentia was slain by Wolf.
AtlasSyn left the game.
XxSLAYERxX was slain by Wolf.
Bravo was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]
Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [hOtgUy]
GoodTimeWithScar died.
Jimmy doesn’t know how long he spends looking at chat, reading it over and over again as he tries to make sense of it. All those Hels players came here with the express purpose of kidnapping Tango. But why? Dr. Atlas had said something about ‘getting back to work’ and a farm design, but what does that even mean? 
Speaking of that doctor fella, he seems to have been the only one to get kills on the Double Lifers- the rest of them must’ve been preoccupied with Pearl’s wolves. Gosh, to think what her chat must look like…
But that’s something worth noting. Atlas didn’t waste his time with wolves, he went for Pearl and Bigb. He must’ve realized the wolves were Pearl’s and targeted her because of it. And the fact he went for Bigb instead of Ren, who was racking up the most kills... that means he was able to put together that they were soulbound, and he used that to get rid of the threat more easily.
Out of these Hels players, Atlas is clearly the one to watch out for.
Well, him and Bravo, of course. Though Bravo technically isn’t a Hels, if Jimmy’s understood it properly. But he’s certainly just as cruel and bloodthirsty as those other guys were, and he’s got it out for Tango the most. Jimmy can’t recall the last time he saw such hate in a player’s eyes, for any reason. And this is the guy claiming he should’ve been Jimmy’s soulmate? Unbelievable.
As if Jimmy would ever go for such a dense, hateful, entitled piece of-
“Honey,” Tango says suddenly, sitting up on his elbows, “you okay?”
Jimmy jolts in surprise; he must’ve been looking quite cross with his communicator. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he assures Tango softly, offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry if I woke you.”
It’s difficult to make out details in the scarce light from the hallway, but Tango looks much improved from yesterday. Even underneath the dried blood, the warmth has returned to his skin, replacing that sickly, pale pallor. His red eyes are sharp and alert- that’s a huge relief, as well.
“No, no, you’re good!” Tango says brightly. He leans over to press a kiss to Jimmy’s cheek. “Sleep alright?”
His tone throws Jimmy for a moment. Someone’s feeling better. Blinking, Jimmy puts his comm away. “I did, yeah,” he answers uncertainly. “You?”
“Yep!” Tango smiles at him; it seems a bit forced. “I uh- I’m all rest-ificated and ready to start the day. So, what I- well, I- I guess our first order of business, we should go take a look at the ranch, right, see what the damage is? Then we can do some resource gathering and start rebuilding, so we aren’t crashing at Impulse and Bdubs’s place forever.”
Jimmy pauses for a moment to process the words. “Umm… are you sure?” he asks tentatively. “I mean, we can go look at it if you want, but uh, are you- we should really focus on getting that collar off you first, don’t you think?”
Tango shrugs. He isn’t quite meeting Jimmy’s eyes. “Doesn’t bother me. Besides, we don’t have the key.”
Jimmy knits his brows together. “So what, we just... let it alone? Move on?”
Tango huffs a laugh- it sounds a bit faint. “Yeah, yeah exactly.” 
(What an abrupt change of character!)
(Lying again, it seems…)
(How suspicious.)
Okay, this is definitely strange behavior. Considering everything that happened yesterday, Jimmy would’ve expected Tango to still be physically and emotionally wrecked. But instead, he seems rather keen to just move on, like everything’s normal- 
Ah. Of course. Jimmy doesn’t know why he’s surprised.
“Tango...” he starts, “I don’t think-”
“Good morning!” Impulse hums as he pokes his head through the cracked door. “How we doin’, guys?”
Curse his timing. Tango, of course, immediately takes advantage of the distraction.
“Oh, hey Impy!” he says cheerfully. “Hey uh, sorry about earlier. You know, I uh, I was a little confused, and uh… you know...” He pulls a face; overdramatized. He’s trying to make light of it.
Impulse seems to share the same realization as Jimmy. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says easily, though he keeps his tone in a lower register- more serious. Not feeding into the fake energy. “No hard feelings. Here, I brought some food.”
Tango takes the offered food without even a second of hesitation; a stack of golden carrots. “Of course. Thank you, thank you.” He quickly starts crunching on one, conveniently busying himself so he doesn’t have to say anything else.
Oh well, at least he’s eating. Jimmy gives Impulse a tired smile. “Hey, Impulse. Thanks again for lettin’ us crash here.”
Impulse returns his smile. “Yeah, of course, no problem. So um, I’ve just got a bit of an update for you guys.” He sits down at the end of the bed, expression sobering. “The ranch situation is under control, they managed to get the fire out before it spread to anything else nearby. So your pastures, barns, and fields are safe. All your animals, too.”
It’s easy enough to pick up on what he’s left out. “But the ranch itself is gone, isn’t it?” Jimmy says quietly.
Impulse nods. “I’m sorry. Most of what’s left is just the stone. I think the basement is pretty intact, too, but everything else…”
“Yep.” Tango, finished with his carrot, shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, I figured. That’s what we get for building with wood, even though I’m super flammable and stuff.”
Jimmy gives him a sympathetic look. “It’ll be okay-”
“So,” Tango interrupts, avoiding Jimmy’s gaze as he gives Impulse an intent look, “uh- anything else?”
(Ouch! Testy…)
Impulse rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Grian wants to know if you guys are up for a chat. Nothing bad,” he adds quickly, “he’s just trying to figure out a solution and we’re just a little in the dark about everything. You can stick to the basics; if there’s something you aren’t comfortable telling us, that’s fine-”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Tango assures him. Despite his grin, there’s a hard edge to his voice. “Let’s do it. Call everyone up, we’ll have a nice chat at spawn or something. Let’s- let’s get goin’.”
Impulse pauses. “Well, if you want, we can have just Grian come over...”
Tango huffs. “No, why- let’s just get everyone on the same page, okay? Get it all over with at once.” He spreads his hands. “No point in delaying, or- or having to explain the same thing over and over again, right? I mean, everyone’s stuck here ‘til Grian lifts the lockdown, I- I’m sure they’ll wanna know why.”
Jimmy exchanges a look with Impulse. “I… I suppose,” he says hesitantly. “But are you sure you’re-”
“Yeah,” Tango says, “yeah, it’s fine.” 
Impulse purses his lips, clearly fighting not to let his frustration show. 
The sentiment is one that Jimmy shares. It’s obvious Tango is trying to downplay everything- and if that’s his way of coping, fine. But it really throws a wrench into the works when moving forward requires actually addressing what happened, and having an in-depth conversation about it. And this doesn’t bode well for long-term; they can’t just pretend everything’s normal, no matter how much Tango might wish it. 
“Okay, I’ll let him know.” Impulse rises to his feet. “The bathroom’s at the end of the hallway if you guys wanted to wash up.”
Tango actually makes a face at that, dropping the facade for a moment. He really doesn’t like water. “Wash up..?”
Impulse winces. “You’re um. Still covered in dried blood.”
(I was wondering when he’d realize that…)
Tango blinks. “Oh. Oh, right, of course.” Absently, he reaches a hand up to scratch at his chin. “I should probably wash that off, yeah. I mean, everyone knows I’m a vicious monster but I don’t have to look it, right?” he laughs.
Jimmy’s heart tightens. “Hey, Tango…”
“No,” Impulse protests, “that’s not-”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Tango says shortly. “Thanks, Impulse.”
“Alright.” Impulse lets the matter drop, turning to leave. “Come downstairs when you’re ready.”
As soon as Impulse is gone, Jimmy turns to Tango. “Hey, so-”
But Tango has already hopped out of bed and crossed to the door, calling, “Hang on, be right back!” over his shoulder.
Down the hall, Jimmy hears the bathroom door open and close. He sighs.
This is gonna be a fun conversation.
~*~
CONTINUED IN PART IX, ACT II
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tubbytarchia · 4 months
Text
Actually I'm gonna need a little insanity thread for all the rancher things I love as I watch their POV for the first time. I'll publicize this when I'm done with ep5
TLDR: Heavens, it is a long list. I cannot tldr this
Them running around in circles, completely lost after their first deaths whilst also not expressing even the slightest bit of anger (esp Jimmy because you know)
Them expecting the other to know how to build but neither of them can
Tango building a box of a house and Jimmy being absolutely smitten by it continuously
Tango praising Jimmy with full genuinity for bringing back... a bucket of water
Them cradling one little chicken like its their offspring before they can get more
Jimmy standing behind the door, calling for Tango in order to surprise him with cows.... god help my heart
Tango declaring them as team ranchers to immediately admit he might not be a very good rancher. This is good and cute because I love to see them struggle yet have unbridled support towards each other
Jimmy being cornered by Joel and Etho so Tango leaves to save him (or so he says at least!)
Jimmy ushering Tango into their house as Tango yells for help due to his hunger and being chased by mobs, and then Jimmy giving him two melon slices because that's all he has (They are so pathetically poor which only accentuates the wholesome and cute factor)
Jimmy accidentally picking up Tango's baked potato and then handing it back to him so they can eat together while Tango basically foams out the mouth because he's so hungry
"Welcome home honey"
Them celebrating being able to feed themselves to any degree
Tango all "I built that wall, it's ugly, continuing the trend" only for Jimmy to immediately proclaim that he likes it
Jimmy catching on that Tango can be a great builder actually and confronting him about it like he's just been cheated on
Tango blocking their entrance to prevent more cows from leaving for Jimmy to then admit that he was the one that broke the door, oops
Tango watching Jimmy escort two goats from a distance "he's doing great"
Them in total confusion wasting way too much time trying to figure out how to get goat horns as they're huddled in their house with said goats strolling around (and them continuing to get butted casually as they go about their normal activities) before eventually choosing to waste much more time by trying to do the same thing outside
Unrelated but Pearl of all people being the first person to come to them with genuine help rather than to fuck with them like everyone else
In the face of all their struggles, the thing that seems to bring the absolute most joy to Tango and Jimmy by this point is obtaining a silly little goat horn
The fact that they both got the exact same goat horn!!!
"I need stuff for tools, and I need stuff for Jimmy"
Tango defending their base's looks despite proclaiming to be a bad builder, because god, I want him to be doing that just because of how much Jimmy praised it
Nobody replying to their goat horns, but THEM replying to each other!! (They also toot at each other later when frantically looking for each other agh!!)
This time Tango interrogating Jimmy as if he's been cheated on because Jimmy went into the deep dark without his approval
"The R survived"
"Tango snap out of it; Tango's having a moment" *Tango yelling and groaning and grunting and laughing continuously*
"Tango, Tango, let's think about this. Let's think about this!" "Hold me back" "Tango, listen to the horn" Jimmy calming his deranged husband aw
Tango burying his head in a corner refusing to look at his beautiful ranch in complete ruin even as Jimmy coaxes him
Jimmy and Tango kind of begrudgingly accepting Scar trying to be nice but Jimmy still valiantly defending the foot tower before it burned to the ground
Their son/daughter :( (Tango refers to the Warden as a she one episode and a he in another. Their child was an icon...)
Tango expressing that he's proud of Jimmy for having stayed alive so long and Jimmy replying "It's all down to to you. Hey, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you"
Maybe Jimmy really didn't have a water bucket on him but it was so funny of him to casually turn to Tango whilst on fire and go "can you put me out?"
Jimmy being comically kidnapped??? (Actually being put into gay baby jail instead) And asking Tango to help save him
"You're still here? It's over. Go home. Go." (insert a bunch of crying emojis)
Other stuff: I think by virtue of Jimmy being a real tall guy, his character is usually depicted as taller than Tango's if not significantly so. As such... Tango calling Jimmy "little man" tickles me greatly and sounds like a very fond pet name
Briefly brought it up earlier but goddd. I will absolutely hc that Tango only became proud and defendant of his work because of how much Jimmy liked what he built. And Jimmy always being there and calming Tango in his crazed outbursts <3 Tango is such a goddamn creature isn't he
And the uhh... Tango dying quickest out of anyone because of a creeper, to then express that he was proud of Jimmy for doing well even though he got them killed the first time around, and then Jimmy unceremoniously dying to an Enderman to end their series for good... As funny and poetic as it is, god, the canary curse fuckin hurts!! And yet there were hardly times that Tango showed disdain towards Jimmy, and then never genuinely. He knew their series could end quick with Jimmy as his soulmate and even when their positivity faltered, their support towards one another never did
For having read all this (or maybe just glancing and scrolling)... some unfinished rancher doodles just for you that I made while watching their POV
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:)
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honey-minded-hivemind · 2 months
Note
X Men Animated Yandere Sabertooth and Wolverine meeting a child who was created using both of their DNA
Ohoho, yes! I love those two! I write them as brothers, so I'll be careful in how the DNA thing works. That being said, we'll go with this:
Trying to knock sense into his brother was like trying to knock sense into a boulder.
Hard, rough, full of broken bones, and painful.
The b*stards at Weapon X had erased anything, everything, all of their past together, everything that had ever mattered from his runt's mind, and then had the audacity to use him as a weapon. Use BOTH of them as weapons. Forcing them to kill, to tear apart, to sabotage-
All because they were mutants.
And humans hated mutants, no matter what.
He killed them, the ones who did this to them. That still didn't fix things, though. He did fix quite a few of them up, though. Fixed them right into dinner. Into trophies. Into minced meat and bloodied bones.
That being done and over with-
He didn't expect to find a kid who was more or less a mixed clone- sibling- something, of the two of them...
Logan had done what he could throughout the years, trying to find his identity, his past, his lost loves...
Sadly, that past was full of hurting, hurting of him, hurting of others, and somehow, someway, Sabretooth always seemed to be nearby. Watching. Waiting. Pouncing. One of the few people anything like him, and the guy's a full-on nut-case.
Just peachy.
But he at least did his best to do good. Creed, he couldn't say that, could he?
But apparently this new bad wasn't his fault.
It wasn't his, either.
Who woulda thought the sickos who ran Weapon X would have made a kid?
Who would have thought that kid would have had parts of both their DNA, making them a clone of sorts, if not their own sibling.
The two can't stand knowing they have a mini other running about, one who has every flaw and nature that they have. Who is only a cub, a pup, nothing more than a kit trying to survive in a world too hateful to love 'em...
Course, they plan to fix that.
If they could just keep the kid away from the other feral-
"Back off, Creed!" Wolverine growls, unsheathing his claws as he faces off against the larger feral, who only growls back.
"Stay outta the way, runt. They're just as much my sibling as yours," he purr-growls, slowly moving in.
The two of them know Reader is watching them from their hiding place in the trees, eyeing them carefully.
This battle isn't about lost brotherhood or vengeance. This is about custody rights to the newest feral, THEIR own flesh and blood.
The moment their claws cross, the kit is scrambling through the high-up branches, looking for a way to avoid them as they tussle across the icy dirt, rocks and pine needles scattering in their wake. Sabretooth winds up on top, his knee pressed into his younger brother's ribs, the weight causing them to creak.
"Get off!" Logan hisses, struggling under the force, only to be met with a tut.
"Now now, Jimmy... That's no way ta talk ta yer older brother... Now, calm down. 'M not gonna keep the cub away from ya. But... I think ya might need ta take a small nap. Yer as grouchy as a pup without their milk," purrs Victor, and in a quick motion, stabs a large dart into Wolverine's neck, waiting until the smaller mutant falls unconscious.
"'Kay, kit, it's yer turn! Now, ya can come out and take it easy... Or ya can play hard, and take a long nap like the runt over here..." he calls out, slowly pulling himself up and dusting off the snow that's covered him.
When they don't respond, he huffs lightly, then lunges onto the nearest tree, clawing his way up, until he finds where Reader hid themself. He grins, glad to know they didn't leave while he and their brother fought...
"Time ta come home, kit..."
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saskiahaggens · 7 months
Note
Can you write something about Jimmy x Reader? 👉🏼👈🏼
Of course I can, but I have to tell you that I dislike it… I'll most likely edit it later.
Most of you have probably noticed that I haven't uploaded anything in a long time. So, as a quick update, I by now am legally allowed to drive and I started my last year of school. I'm not sure how much I can upload, because our school year is quite short, but I will do my best to respond to all of the requests as soon as possible. Please accept my apologies for the long speech. I love you all for the appreciation. I wish you luck for school an work.
I Survived 50 Hours In America
Masterlist
Pairing: Jimmy x fem!Reader
Warnings: none I guess
Word count: 1586
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You weren't thrilled when Jimmy suggested going to Antarctica. It was frosty, very bright owing to the sun, and you wouldn't have a decent bed to sleep in. Obviously, you had to fly there, which you were not delighted about. But Jimmy asked you to come along, and who were you to refuse?
"You okay?" Chandler asked above the rumblings of the plain.
"Could be better. We should've brought hot chocolate."
After you mentioned that, Chandler pulled a sorrowful expression. You should have thought about it sooner.
Jimmy was on the other side of the plain, working with the others to prepare some great scenes for the video. You weren't assisting since you had your head buried under your jacket, so you couldn't look outside. Normally, you weren't terrified of heights, except when you sat in a plain that didn't appear or seem safe. They wanted to you wait on the plain after Jimmy left so you could get an amazing shot of you and the rest of the group approaching him.
It seemed simple until the guy in front of you stumbled. You weren't able to react quickly enough and fell face first as you stumbled over his foot.
"Gosh, Y/n." Chandler laughed when you landed in front of his feet.
While everyone else was laughing, he was kind enough to pull you up.
"Well, it's safe to say that the snow tastes nothing like vanilla ice cream."
"Is this something people believe?" Jimmy questioned as he tried to remove some snow off of you.
Chris shrugged, "I've never heard of anything like this."
"Whatever. You thought the moon was made of cheese until we were around thirteen," you rolled your eyes, while the others chuckled.
"As amusing as it is, guys." We should get started. Unless you want to be stuck in a blizzard," Jimmy reminded us, and we all groaned.
"I can't wait to freeze to death.", Chandler smiled.
Jimmy gave the pilot a wink and he took off. We started walking shortly after that. Everyone was hauling their sleighs behind them. George happened to be right next to you, chatting about who knows what. The blizzard made him incomprehensible. You attempted to explain it to him, but he didn't understand you either, so you just let him go on. When you arrived at the location for the camp, everyone began to set up their tents.
Some of you almost immediately realized that it was nearly impossible for them to set up a tent in this wind, so some of you began to build a wall to protect the camp from the wind. While it made things a little easier for you, George, Jimmy, and Karl kept assembling the tents.
Regardless of who went where, all of you instantly huddled in them when the blizzard intensified to wait it out, when you were finally done.
Finally, save from the cold wind and the snow flakes which felt like little needles picking your skin, you could take of your googles.
"This was disgusting," you said, referring to your soaked jacket and pants.
"Hopefully this will be over soon. It's rather crowded in here. Get your feet out of my face, Chris." Tareq muttered.
You hadn't realized how close you were to Jimmy, who was also in this tent. Blood shot to your cheeks, but you could at least blame it on the cold.
The tent's walls suddenly began to collapse and landed on you immediately. The air was filled with cursing and the never-ending shifting of the tent's fabric.
You attempted to pull the fabric aside so you would be able to see someone, but it was like trying to get to the short end of a blanked at night, since the wind pushed the fabric back in your face every few seconds. You began to panic, concerned about how hard it was being pressed in your face from time to time.
"Y/n? "Are you okay?"
You spotted Jimmy when the crimson fabric lifted off your head. He must have noticed your fear since he moved closer to you to raise the piece of fabric higher.
"Yeah. This was terrifying. Like a crimson avalanche."
"You told me about your Claustrophobia once. Sorry to bring you into this."
"Don't worry. I-"
"Y/n is scared by Santa Claus?"
"Chris really? They had a moment."
"What are you even talking about, Tareq?", you asked.
"Oh come on. Everybody knows you two are in love."
"Tareq really? Stop it."
"No way, Chris. This frustrates me. It's so clear, I mean. Jimmy spent hours last week reassembling some Oreo's for you since you had a horrible day and he knows you like the with stuff."
"Any friend would have done something like this." Jimmy denied.
"Okay, and how about yesterday? Y/n-"
"Okay! Tareq we get it.",you interfered.
"No, I'd like to know what happened yesterday. It had to be a very significant event for Tareq to snap. This didn't seem possible to me."
"Chris, I swear to god.", you threatened.
You were frightened since Jimmy wasn't speaking, but you were saved by the others just as you were going to glance at him.
"Is everything all right in there?" Karl asked as the entire tent rose up, revealing a beaming Chris, a still unhappy Tareq, and Karl who peered inside.
You grabbed your googles and exited the tent, unable to bear the humiliating experience. Karl worriedly yelled after you, but you quickly made your way around the wall and came to a halt after about three minutes. Maybe you should just go back home and swim. You'd definitely die within the first two or three hours, but this would be truly amazing right now.
You watched the guys from the distance, rebuild the tent, raise the wall, and put the sleighs' belongings in the tents, when Jimmy started walking in your direction.
You were out and about to just walk away further, but you would have to talk to him. For the sake of the others, otherwise this trip would be really difficult for everyone, and you have at least a little privacy right now.
Jimmy sat down next to you and said, "We need to talk."
"I know."
You then remained silent. How can you even begin such a discussion? Just tell him the truth? No, this isn't one of those stereotypical romance novels where one character rants about their feelings only to be interrupted by the other's kiss. This is the real deal.
"I'm sorry you had to find out this way.", Jimmy mumbled finally interrupting the silence.
"I somehow knew. Or at least I wished it was."
"So Tareq was right? You like me too?"
"How could I not."
Shortly the silence took over again, but now you were sure, if you won't finally speak up, you could end up ruining more than a potential relationship. "I've liked you for years, but even after finally admitting it to you and myself, I still don't feel relived."
"Probably because how it happened. Tareq deeply apologized . You should speak with him later. It will lift your mood."
"I still can't believe he snapped."
"I'm with you. I had no idea his voice could get this loud."
You laughed, and then there it was. The long-awaited sense of relief.
"Thank you."
Jimmy stared at you, perplexed, but you simply rested your head on his shoulder.
"For being here, for making me laugh or have I ever thanked you for giving me this job?"
"Like, a thousand times." He burst out laughing. "Hey, would you tell me what happened yesterday?"
"Promise you won't find it weird."
"I promise."
"I picked up Tareq. Well, when he got into my car, I had forgotten to change the playlist, and he found my worst secret."
"You love One Direction?"
"That's not what this is about... I think. Well, I have a playlist full of songs you might like or told me about."
"Okay. I don't see a problem."
"I labeled it 'Jimmy <3'"
"To be honest I think's cute. You need to show me when we get back." he laughed.
A bit embarrassed you took a hand full of snow and pushed at in his face.
"Oh, you will regret this."
He tossed some snow in your face and pushed you over. Naturally, you started defending yourself, but after a few minutes of rolling around in the snow, you gave up.
"All right, you've won. Please stop. I have so much snow in my jacked that I'm afraid I'll get frost bite."
Jimmy stopped, looking down at you, before he suddenly leaned down on his forearms, coming closer to your face.
"Oh yeah? Well there is nothing like giving up where I'm from."
You moved in close to kiss him, taking advantage of his proximity. Jimmy kissed you back, and you swapped places without his noticing. Using this new position, you threw some snow in his face and rushed back to your tent, shivering but glad that you finally got to kiss Jimmy, and by looking over your shoulder and seeing him still laying there, you knew this wasn't the last kiss you'd have.
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yacinthemorning · 3 months
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A Lesson in Listening
Summary: Grian's brother is moving to town and staying with him while he house hunts. While introducing him to his friend, however, Jimmy and Tango seem to make quite a connection. Determined not to suffer through the pining, Grian and Impulse attempt to play matchmaker.
Ships: Grian & Impulse(Platonic), Jimmy/Tango (Romantic), ZITS (Platonic), Grian & Jimmy (Familial)
Warnings: mild acephobia, verbal fight, sibling bullying, misunderstandings, relationship meddling
If Grian was good at one thing, it was connecting people. Not to be a braggart, but he was a sociable sort who was good at reading people, made new friends with ease, and led the pecking order in his circles. It was his great talent, really. One of many.
“Humility not being among them, clearly.”
“Shush.” Grian hissed, whipping his head around to glare daggers into Impulse. The stout man returned it with his trademark innocent smile, as if Grian didn’t know what went on in the head behind it. “You’re distracting me.”
Impulse chuckled. “What’s there to distract from?”
“I’ll have you know mixing friend groups is a very delicate process!” Grian explained, holding his phone to show the opened notepad doc. “Inviting the wrong person could be the difference between success and disaster.”
“I think you’re overthinking things, G. Anyone who’d get along with you will probably get along with your brother.”
Therein lied the problem, though. Jimmy was nothing like Grian. Okay, well, nothing was a bit of a strong word. Jimmy was extroverted and sociable like Grian, and they both had a fondness for mischief and cats. And maybe Jimmy was the first person Grian always invited to karaoke night when he was in town, because no one else was quite as enthusiastic as they were. But other than that they were nothing alike! For one, unlike Grian, Jimmy was a massive loser.
“That’s a bit rude.”
Grian squawked. “Would you please stop reading my mind!”
“You should stop speaking your mind, then.” Impulse shrugged and returned to scrolling through his phone. Grian had assigned him the task of picking out the venue for the night out, being far more familiar with the town than Grian. He paused, “You might as well monologue, I know you want to.”
“I don’t monologue! I’m not Scar.” Another name was struck out on the list. Doc was angry at him right now, anyways. “I just want things to go well, can I not be excited that Tim is moving closer? I’ve barely got to see him more than once every other month for the past several years! By the way, we can’t-“
“Can’t eat red meat so make sure there’s other options, yeah, I know.” A large hand patted down on Grian’s head, ruffling his hair.
He pouted, falling back into the cushions of his couch. “I feel like you do not appreciate the skill needed to coordinate you people. It’s like herding cats, you know.”
“Why do you think we leave it to you?” Impulse leaned over Grian’s shoulder. “Who you got so far, anyways?”
“You, Scar, Gem, and Cleo. Mostly people he’s met before at least.”
A curious hum filled the air and Grian patiently waited for whatever idea was brewing in Impulse’s head. There were a few taps to his screen, then, “You think Tango can come?”
“Tango?” Grian’s eyebrow quirked up. “Isn’t he hauled up in his basement working on some game right now?” While most certainly a good friend, Tango was one Grian went almost just as long without seeing as his brother half a day’s drive away, despite being a street away. Once he had an idea he would dedicate himself to it until it was done.
Impulse sighed. “Yeah. Zed was able to get him outside for an hour last week, and he went on some business trip for a bit, but he also hasn’t eaten in like two days last I checked. It’d be good excuse to drag him out. He’s gonna forget what real people sound like outside his headphones if we don’t.”
“I honestly don’t know how he expects to survive if he moves out from you guys.”
“I already made him promise to give me a set of spare keys when he does.”
Grian tilted his head as he stared at his last message to the man in question. Something about a crazy idea for a remote-controlled cat toy he thought of. In all honesty it wasn’t the worst idea. Not the cat toy- Tango was a strong personality who left a big impression, but he was always polite. Certainly much more introverted than everyone else going, but not nearly as bad as Zed. At least, when he remembered to leave his basement. It couldn’t do them any harm. At the very worst he could sit in the corner and chatter with Impulse. “Yeah, sure, let’s invite him.” He said, already typing. 
Impulse gave a thumbs up. “Tell him we’re gonna go to that barbeque place he loves, that’ll get him.”
“I said-”
“They have plenty of chicken and even vegetarian options, I double checked. It’s right across from the bowling alley, too. And call him, don’t text, or he’ll never see it.”
It was a small miracle Tango agreed to go. It was a small miracle he answered his phone at all. The mention of barbeque worked, though. How much of the rest of the evening they could convince him to stick around for had yet to be seen, but Grian was hopeful he’d stay a little while at least.
Impulse could deal with Tango, though. Right now, Grian had his hands full with Jimmy. They were running ten minutes behind because his poor little brother couldn’t bear going a day without a bubble bath. “C’mon, Tim, get in the car!” He shouted from the window.
Jimmy stumbled in, nearly dropping his phone between the seats in the process. “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying, I just had to send a text. I thought this was supposed to be fun?” He whined. The second his door was closed Grian began driving, not waiting for him to get his seatbelt in. He was so tall and lanky he’d just smash his head through the glass whether he had one on or not, anyways.
“It’s called punctuality, Timmy. Something the hosts should have!”
“Alright, I get it.” He slumped back into his seat, caving as he always did. It must be hard, having an older brother who was always right. Of course, it was much harder being said brother, as Grian could attest.
The car ride was quiet, only the radio filling the space while Grian worked to remember where he needed to go. Jimmy was the first to break the silence, “So, I’ve scheduled some tours for this week.”
Grian hummed. “Anything promising?”
“Actually yeah.” He chirped, pulling out his phone. Before he could shove it in Grian’s face he put his hand up. It’d only been a month since he rear-ended a Toyota, and he’ll be damned if he hit someone else. The last thing his friends needed was to reignite the jokes about him being too short to see over the dashboard. Jimmy made a whine but didn’t try again. “There’s a place not far out of town in the farmlands. It’s small and old, but it’s an actual house with over half an acre.”
“I dunno why you care so much about land. A condo downtown is way better.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it? I could have a garden.”
“I guess.” The obnoxiously large sign for the barbeque glared high above the trees and buildings around it just up ahead. “Oh, we’re already here. Should be mostly people you met before, by the way.”
“That’s fine.”
Pulling into the parking lot, Grian could already see Impulse’s minivan and Cleo’s beat up old car. He clicked his tongue as he pulled up next to them. “See! I told you we were late, everyone’s already here.”
“Oh, come off it, they probably just got here, it’s fine.”
It was not fine, the host should always be first, but he wouldn’t expect Jimmy to understand. The two squabbled all the way inside, only stopping to tell the waiter their booking. A nice large table on the patio already had most of Grian’s friends sitting around, still having yet to be served even drinks. Everyone but Tango despite his phone, unmistakable with its Guy Fieri case, on the table. Bathroom, maybe? He was always terrible about going before he left. Scar was the first to spot them. “G! Timmy! You’re here!”
“That we are.” Grian mumbled and turned to Impulse. “Where’s-”
“Hey, Grian, just in time!” The scratchy voice of Tango shouted too-loudly behind them. He saw Jimmy jump, and both brothers swivelled on their heels. Tango jolted back a bit, friendly wave shrinking to his side at the reaction. His eyes grew wide, locking with Jimmy’s which mirrored him like two deer caught in headlights. “Oh!” He squeaked unintentionally.
It jogged Jimmy out of his fright enough to look away, though Grian took suspicious note of the redness of his ears. He gave his baby brother a raised eyebrow, but he didn’t seem to see it.
“Right, well, Tango, Cleo, this is my brother, Ti-”
“It’s Jimmy.” Jimmy jumped in at lightning speed, holding his hand out for Tango to shake with a wide smile. “The name’s Jimmy.” Tango hesitated for a second, before tentatively shaking back with an equally tentative smile.
“Tango, of the Tek variety. Nice to finally meet you.”
“I thought you said your brother was Tim?” Cleo asked.
Impulse scratched at his bread. “Honestly, I thought it was.”
“It’s not, my name’s Jimmy. Don’t trust anything this man says, he’s a menace.” Jimmy huffed, which got far too enthusiastic an agreement from nearly the whole table for Grian’s liking. Behind him, Tango snuck around back to the table. In a baffling move, as far as Grian was concerned, he paused at the empty chair across from his own and pulled it out. He nodded towards Jimmy, who muttered a sheepish thanks. Grian narrowed his eyes at the engineer, but he seemed to be pointedly not looking at him. A shared look from Impulse, though, let him know he wasn’t the only one who took notice.
“Well, then, Jimmy, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Cleo reached over the table, offering their hand.
Chatter very quickly picked itself up once they were all sat down. Most was directed towards Jimmy, asking what he did and the places he was looking at and how on earth did he get his hair that perfect. It was a bit awkward with him sitting at the end. Given the middle seat where Grian now sat was also empty, he suspected Tango’s little gentleman’s stunt had messed up the seating arrangement Impulse intentionally left. 
It wasn’t the last. When their drinks came Tango had ordered some crazy bright red fruity slushy monstrosity like he was on vacation or something. For him it might as well be. Something that brightly coloured, with a fruit skewer at that, was basically tempting the gods as far as Jimmy was concerned, who looked more dazzled by it than the already bright blue drink he ordered. Only a sip had been taken before Tango was nudging it towards him, asking, “Wanna try?” Which he wholeheartedly accepted.
Honestly, between that and the conversation somehow always managing to close into a back and forth between the pair, Grian wanted to gag. Did his brother have absolutely no shame? Or maybe Grian was just bitter he had to order something lighter as their driver. It was at least funny to watch Scar also ask for a sip and be completely ignored.
A large platter was ordered over individual meals. It was just easier, when everyone wanted to try this and that. Astonishingly, it was probably the first time Grian had witnessed Tango eat a vegetable, when he tried one of the skewers the brothers ordered on the side. That was the power of good barbeque, he supposed.
They finally called it after Gem won the third round of bowling in a row. Grian tapped against the open door of his car, glaring holes in the back of his brother’s head, who was too busy saying goodbye to Tango to notice. “Come ooon Tim!” He finally shouted after the third obnoxious little giggle they shared. When he turned, Grian narrowed his eyes. You ain’t subtle. The pair finally said goodbye for real, and Jimmy ran to get in the car before Grian decided to drive off without him. He’d barely gotten his seatbelt on before he was furiously typing something on his phone. Really?
“So, how was it?” Grian asked.
“It was fun, your friends seem cool.” Was the distracted response.
“Mhm…” He leaned closer over his shoulder. “And how was Tango?”
If it was possible to jump out of one’s skin then Jimmy had jumped out of his skin, muscles, and bones. “Huh?” He squeaked, face red and eyes bugged. Grian only returned it with an unimpressed eye roll.
“Oh please. You nearly dropped a bowling ball on your foot while swooning.”
“Well… He’s a cool guy, isn’t he?”
And that shut Grian up. More efficiently than he would like to admit. He expected Jimmy to deny it, or be too flustered to say much of anything. When Grian failed to reply Jimmy went back to his phone, tapping away with a smile. There was that obnoxious giggle again.
This was not one of the issues Grian anticipated having when his brother told him he was moving. 
“So, how do we set them up?”
Impulse Hummed, spending far too long reading the contents of a can of cream of mushroom like it wasn’t the same can he always bought. “Who?”
“ Who? ” Grian mocked back. “Tim and Tango!”
“Do we need to?” Three more cans joined the first, before they moved on to the broths. Grian threw the bouillon in the cart before his companion could grab a carton that would languish in the back of his fridge. “They seem to be doing fine on their own.”
“No, trust me. I know Tim. He was literally living with his last boyfriend before he realized they were dating and that he liked him. He’s an idiot.”
“And Tango hasn’t exactly been leaving the basement much lately.” Impulse conceded, grabbing a carton of pho broth anyways. Acceptable, Grian supposed.
“So, then, any ideas?”
They paused before entering the next aisle. The larger man’s face twisted in thought. “Well, we could invite him to D&D, run a oneshot, and have their characters drink a love potion until they get the hint.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea, absolutely not.” He wrote it down in his phone for a future session.
“Another dinner?”
“What are the odds of getting Tango out of the house twice?”
“Probably a lot higher than you’d think with how they were acting.”
“What if I gave Timmy a tour of your house and just locked the basement door behind him?”
“You know I’m starting to think we might be bad at this and should leave it to someone else.”
“Nonsense!” Grian grabbed the first bottle of soya sauce he spotted, much to Impulse’s protests. He wasn’t going to sit and wait for him to match the prices to the ounces. “Look, I know Timmy best, and you know Tango best. Logically, there’s no better pair of heads to crack together for this. They’ll thank us at the wedding.”
A jar of pickled bamboo shoots found its way into the cart beside the biggest bag of basmati rice Impulse could pick up. He had to catch his breath before he continued. “Listen, Grian, do you need to… talk, or something?”
“What?” Grian’s head whipped around from the wall of spices he was mulling over. “About what?”
Impulse hunched his shoulders up, cringing slightly. “I dunno, y’know… You’re planning your brother’s wedding to your friend while picking out my groceries for me. I’m not even sure how you found out I was grocery shopping or found me in the store. I don’t think that’s normal, healthy person behaviour.” 
“I am so completely normal and healthy!” He said just a bit too loud.
“You know you can talk to me if you need to.”
This was getting nowhere real fast. “Are you going to help me or not?”
Impulse sighed. “I’ll help.”
“Good. Then, what’s the plan?”
In the end, the plan was little more than ‘wait and see’ with a side sprinkling of putting the pair in as much direct contact as possible. This turned out to be much more work than they anticipated, however. Jimmy had always been a socialite, but he seemed to be gone every other day viewing houses or visiting locations. Meanwhile, Tango did as he does and made himself busy constantly. Every group activity Grian planned was lucky to get even one of them, and he was about to lose his damn mind.
Their big break finally showed itself one evening, when Jimmy dropped in with Grian. Well, it was more like Grian promised to drive him to do some errands and made a left turn away from the mall and directly to the ZITS house instead. A decision Jimmy was not familiar enough with the town yet to notice until it was too late. Just the sound of Jimmy’s voice managed to draw Tango upstairs to see what was going on in his kitchen, where the rest of them were chatting.
Immediately the annoying little giggles started up again. If there was one thing in this world that could make Grian try to keep them apart, it was that giggle.
“By the way, Jimmy,” Skizz piped up from where he leaned against the sink. “You still need a lift tomorrow?”
When had Jimmy found time to befriend Skizz? Who knows. Knowing the two of them they probably bumped into each other on the street and kept talking till the sun went down. Extroverts were so exhausting. (He ignored the little Impulse-ish voice nagging that Grian was also something of an extrovert.)
“Yeah, sorry, I appreciate it.”
“Where you going?” Impulse asked.
“Got another house tour.” Tango of all people replied. Maybe that wasn’t all that surprising, though, given the amount Grian has spotted Jimmy texting the past few days.
“Is that so? Will you be going with them?” Grian teased, but instead got a toothy grin back.
“Yessiree!”
Really? Inviting your crush house hunting? Was that forward or just weird? Either way, it was an opportunity. “You know, Tim, you haven’t invited me to go with you.” He whined, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. 
Unfortunately, while Jimmy’s talents were sparse, this was one area where he outranked Grian by a factor of magnitudes and had unlocked absolute immunity, or something. “Yeah. That was on purpose.” He said bluntly, not even looking away from Tango, who laughed. In fact, everyone laughed. Even Impulse, the traitor.
Grian wouldn’t give up so easily, however. “Well I think you should. So where is it?”
“What? You’ll just embarrass me, I’m not telling you!” He squeaked, finally looking at his kind, sweet, dear older brother.
“Yes, you are!”
“No, I’m not!”
And that was how Jimmy ended up in a headlock on ZITS’s kitchen floor, Impulse reluctantly using Jimmy’s phone to text Grian the address on his calendar. Tango, simp that he was, managed to distract Grian by jokingly calling Jimmy honey, forcing Grian to let go in order to pretend to hurl, during which time Jimmy made his escape back to the car. 
He won though, and the next day when Jimmy pulled up with Skizz and Tango to the house tour, Grian and Impulse were already waiting there with the realtor.
“I can’t believe you.” Jimmy dragged his hands down his face. “Don’t you have to, I don’t know, work?”
“Jokes on you, I’m my own boss.” Grian puffed up his chest.
Tango patted Jimmy on the back and turned the both of them towards the poor, confused realtor. “Let’s just get this over with.” He soothed, to which Jimmy gave him a saccharine smile.
The property was ridiculously nice. It wasn’t especially big, but it was lined by woodlands and already had a garden, albeit in need of some severe TLC. There was even an old chicken coop to the side of the house that only needed new fencing and cleaning. The house itself was a one-story cutesy cottage-like thing. It was older, but whomever had lived in it last had the wiring redone and appliances replaced. The bedroom was big, too, as they tended to be in these older houses, and the bathroom had a proper large tub. There was a spare office room with a nice big window to the garden. The garage was separate, and large enough to be a workshop. All that while being well within the range of good internet and still close enough one could walk to town if they really wanted to. 
It was, essentially, Jimmy’s dream home. The only issue Jimmy seemed to have was the fact that the wall between the living room and kitchen had been knocked out for a more modern open concept design with the largest windows in the house.
“It’d probably be a pain to heat in winter, right?” He asked no one in particular. 
Grian knew jack all about houses, and only shrugged. It still wasn’t that big, so he imagined not. Impulse and Skizz seemed to mull the idea over a little longer. Tango, though, saw an opportunity, and Grian had to give him credit because the man took it without hesitation. His arm was around Jimmy’s shoulder, toothy grin leaned in a bit too close. “Well, that sounds like a good excuse to cuddle up in bed all winter, hm?”
Jimmy’s cheeks turned pink. He muttered something under his breath that made Tango chuckle. Grian rolled his eyes towards Impulse, who seemed almost too shocked by his friend’s forwardness to notice.
More questions were asked, things Grian was glad he never had to worry about as a condo guy. Owning a home seemed like so much work, but Jimmy had lists upon lists. Of course, it was Jimmy, and even with lists he forgot certain things. But Tango seemed ready to pick up the slack with his own barrage of inquiries. 
“I think,” Jimmy said, looking at the kitchen with a bit of awe. “I think this might be it, guys.”
“Yeah?” Tango’s eyes practically sparkled with excitement. Jimmy nodded.
The realtor stepped up. “There aren’t any other serious inquiries at the moment, I think you have a good chance if you put in the asking price.” Jimmy nodded, and the realtor went off to his car to make a call.
Grian pursed his lips at his brother, though. “Are you sure you can afford that? I know you’ve saved up and all, but it’s still a lot.”
Jimmy beamed though, clearly overwhelmed with excitement. “Of course, you think we would look at houses we can’t afford?”
“I mean if I’m honest kind of, but- wait. We?”
“I’ll have you know, despite the beliefs of certain individuals, my credit score’s top notch.” Tango patted his chest proudly. “And between the two of us we have more than enough savings for the down payment.”
Grian felt the wires in his brain short circuit and reboot. An unholy screech came from his throat. “What!”
Jimmy and Tango both side-eyed each other, their awkward smiles caught between guilty and like they were ready to burst out laughing. “You… Thought I could buy a home on my own?” Jimmy asked, hiccupping in the middle.
Impulse looked just as dumbfounded. “When did you work this out?” His voice came out hoarse.
It was Tango’s turn to be confused, raising an eyebrow. “Um, months ago? I told you, Impy.”
“You said you were thinking about moving out, not buying a house with a stranger!”
“Wait-” Skizz burst out laughing, pointing at Grian and Impulse. “You guys really didn’t know?”
“No, why do you know!”
“Cause I listen to my roommates?”
“Hold on. Months ago?” Grian pushed them out of the way, getting into his brother’s face.
It seemed Tango was no longer able to hold in his laughter, leaning on Jimmy for support while Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly couldn’t tell if you’d actually forgotten or if this was some bit.” He admitted.
“We’ve been together for almost three years.” Tango wheezed out between cackles.
“Excuse me?” Balked Grian. “Since when? You’ve never met!” His head whipped between the two. How on earth-
A finger twirled absently in the air as Jimmy tried to explain. “Do you remember your Halloween party? The one me and Joel attended, where Tango was dressed up as an imposter?”
“Yeah?” It was the biggest party he’d ever held, how could he forget? His brow creased. “But that doesn’t make any sense, I never got to introduce you two cause you both went… home… early.” Grian’s eyes went wide as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.
Tango leaned against Jimmy’s shoulder with a smirk. “There it is.”
“Oh. My god.”
“I told you he doesn’t ever listen to me.” Jimmy groaned.
“You two-”
“Yeah.”
Grian gasp cracked. “Jimmy you slut !”
“ Excuse me? ” Jimmy shouted back in equal amounts of disbelief and anger.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the realtor pause in the entryway, then slowly back out of view once more.
“You heard me!”
“What do you think we did!”
“Well you weren’t enjoying my party, that’s for sure!”
 “Okay, okay, everybody calm down.” Skizz stepped in, pushing Grian towards Impulse, who seemed to hold Grian back on instinct more than anything as he was still lost in shock.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Impulse asked, giving his housemate a look of betrayal. It was returned with concern.
“I did? I swear I did.”
“Dipple Dop, he told us he was busy in call with his partner all the time. He extended his work trips several times.”
“That was Timmy?” He stumbled back, leaning on the counter. “I thought he meant, like, an MMO buddy.”
“Yeah, and you certainly never told me!” Grian huffed, which Jimmy returned.
“I did tell you, but you didn’t listen! Or did you just do that thing like with Scott where you thought I wasn’t aware I was dating the guy I lived with for two months just because I told you we hadn’t-”
“You know what?” Skizz clapped his hands together. “I think we all need to just take a deep breath, okay? Everybody just breathe. In,” He took a deep breath, of which his housemates joined in while the brothers continued to glare at each other. “And out.” They all let out a long sigh.
 A brief silence fell over the group, only interrupted by a nervous knock at the door. The realtor stuck his head in, eyes darting between the group. “Um, Mister Solidarity, Mister Tek, could I speak to you now?”
“Yes, one second.” Jimmy said, voice tight. The pair left to talk outside.
Grian and Impulse went home after that, waiting for the other three to return. They said little, Grian fuming while Impulse stared at his lap like his dog just died. Zed popped in to say he was going out, at which point he was let in on the day’s events and gave them both odd looks. Had they really been the only ones who didn’t know? 
By the time everyone else arrived back at the house they’d pulled themselves together somewhat. Not entirely, but enough to ask questions without shouting.
“So, you’re really leaving?” Impulse asked, voice almost watery. Tango’s posture softened with his smile, and pulled the larger man into a big hug.
“Oh, buddy, I told you I was gonna. I’m a big boy now!”
��Yeah, but… I dunno. We’ve lived together since college. I didn’t think this would actually happen…”
Skizz rubbed his back. “Hey, he ain’t movin’ cross country, he’s just down the road. We’ll see him all the time.”
“Yeah! I promise, Impy, I ain’t going nowhere.”
The three continued to talk among each other, comforting their friend, so Grian left them be. Instead, he turned his attention onto Jimmy, who still looked huffy, with his arms crossed and a glare squarely on Grian.
“I told you.”
“Well, maybe you should have told me better.” Grian turned his nose up as an almost automatic response. Jimmy threw his arms in the air and stomped off to the doorway, and immediately Grian felt the regret. He chased after his little brother. “Wait, Tim. I’m…” A warbled wheeze escaped his throat, straining to get the dreaded word out. “Ssso-…rry... That I didn’t listen.”
The shift was near-instant, disdain laxing into smugness. “There, was that so hard?”
“Immensely.”
“Oh, come off it, you big baby.”
“I just don’t get it.” Grian grabbed his hair. “How did I miss that you two were dating? Why didn’t Tango say something when we invited him to dinner?”
“Well, it probably started with the fact that you introduce me to everyone as Tim and his boyfriend’s name is Jimmy.” He sneered, eyebrow raised.
Well, he had him there. Not that he would ever admit that to his brother’s face. “I still can’t believe you ditched my party to hook up with my friend.”
“Oh my god, we didn’t hook up!” Jimmy threw his head back. “We just went to get Mcdonald’s and watch movies because Tango almost had a panic attack at the number of people you invited and couldn’t breathe.”
“In my defence, I didn’t expect that many people to actually show up.”
“Either way, stop projecting.”
“Wh- excuse me?”
“Tango’s the same as me. I can assure you nothing like that would ever happen.”
Grian pouted. Well, at least they were happy and close by. “Fine, I’ll forgive you if you can get Tango to come to roller derby night.”
“Uh, I don’t have anything I need to be forgiven for, and I’m not going to make Tango do something he doesn’t want to do.”
“But Tim, consider: Tango falling on his butt in the most hideous disco suit.”
That gave Jimmy pause, thinking for a solid moment before a smile stretched behind his hand. “Alright, fine.”
“Yes!” Grian pumped his fist into the air, nearly smacking Impulse in the face as the group joined them.
“What’s going on out here?”
“Nothing.” Both brothers replied, matching smiles immediately getting them suspicious looks. Jimmy pushed past them to grab Tango’s hand and drag him towards the basement. “C’mon, we have to finish planning.”
“Yessir.” Tango saluted with a chuckle. 
As they retreated, Grian shouted after them. “Oh, Tango!”
“Yeah?” Bless his soul, he was too busy giving his partner a doofy look that was wiped away the second he turned to see Grian. He did his best to bore a hole through the man’s skull.
“You better watch your back. I know where you sleep.”
“Well, I’d hope so.” Grian didn’t like that grin. “Be weird if you didn’t know where your brother was.”
And that was how Grian began to plan the death of Tango Tek.
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chromations · 2 months
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The Robert Plant post that's been on my mind since the jimmy post.
EDIT: tumblr fucked up and deleted half the post AND put it without tags. Now complete
It's easier to write about psychology I relate to. To dive into something so clear, so easy to point out the faults of. Writing Jimmy's story was easy. What I'm writing now is less than.
This is how Led Zeppelin impacted Robert Plant. As usual, feel free to add, and the rest is under the cut. This is gonna be sad (and long)
Anyone can spot how, now, Robert reflects on his Zeppelin days with disdain. He doesn't perform nor relate to the majority of his Zeppelin songs anymore. Of course, just as the rest of the band, he's sick of the press asking for another tour. Another reunion. Another reminder of a dark spot in who we see as the golden god.
What happened?
What *didn't* happen?? At first, Zeppelin started out and grazed the sun. And the sun had been spun for years, so to speak. Popularity, sex, riches, women, freedom, *music*. Who wouldn't want that? Of course, there had been the lyrics written by a guy in his early 20s, the many meanings eluding and warping to the ears of the listener. There was criticism over the different lifestyles, tear gassing, police raids, there was Jimmy and Lori. Even recounted by Jimmy Page (Through the On This Day feature), they'd perform in Memphis, only to be stopped by a man with a gun when they'd wanted to perform an encore.
Still, each life had its faults. Robert would write Sick Again's lyrics with the groupees in mind, with the underlying sadness for what Lori had gone through.
Come 1975, and the wax starts to melt. Jimmy starts on heroin at some point during their tours that year. After Plant's family flies out, he and Robert vacation in Morocco. After, in Greece, Robert is driving with his family, and they get into an accident: Almost fatal on Maureen, a broken ankle + elbow on Robert, and bruises on the kids. Back in England, they'd receive care... Only for Plant to have to leave England due to his tax exile. He'd spend the time in a wheelchair, writing and developing Presence. Achilles Last Stand, about his time in Morocco with Jimmy, previously called The Wheelchair Song. Tea For One, about the loneliness and despair on tour, of being away from his family. For Your Life is about a friend of Robert's who had been heavy in drugs. Quote from faroutmagazine, it's reflected that Presence was "a cry from the depths"/"a cry of survival"
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Presence is often shat on for what's perceived as a lackluster, boring, rehashed album. While I see where these statements come from, Presence happens to be my favorite album.
In 76, Presence is released, and in the same year, Zeppelin's concert film The Song Remains The Same, to make up for the canceled tours in pursuit of Plant's recovery.
1977 comes around. American tour. Everyone's unsure if the band will perform the same after such a hiatus, but it works out. Mostly. Page, as in my other post, is emotionally unavailable, to say the least, in his own struggles. The band in total is still imbibing in heavy drug usage (JPJ, however, more discreet with his use and not to be found in embarrassing situations), but the tour breaks records, a heavy hitting comeback.
Icarus falls, the zeppelin crashes.
Come summer, the third leg just there, and Robert gets the call: Karac Plant, his son, passed while he was away. The cause had been an unknown stomach illness, and he couldn't have even been there for his son. Gut wrenching. Karac was 5.
Tour canceled, and the last time Zeppelin played North America, Plant flies back home with Bonham and Richard Cole at his side. Jimmy and Peter Grant remain in America, while Jones takes time for vacation. During his time of immense grief, Plant heavily considered quitting music all together to be a teacher, as he just wanted to be with his family. While everyone else was off flitting about, Robert says John Bonham was the only one really at his side for the entire process. Out of the members of Zeppelin, Bonzo was the only one attending Karac's funeral at Plant's side. The darkest, most heartbreaking moment of your life, and your friends aren't around (Of course Bonham was, of course he was around. They were best friends). Jones had said, later, with what Elvis dying, all he knew was that he (Robert) should have his space. Lacking etiquette and not knowing consolation shouldn't mean you (in context, Jones and Page) lack the ability to be there for your friend, though.
Robert never fully got over Karac's death. I wouldn't blame him. He wrote multiple songs over the years honoring his son (All My Love, Blue Train, I Believe).
In addition, he would have a talk with himself, in which he would quit drugs. Quote below.
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After everything of 1977, the future of Led Zeppelin became uncertain. Just about silence for a long time, while Plant went through the grief process.  About 1977, he says: “[it was] the year it all stopped for me. Nothing could make it all right again and nothing ever will.” 
"During the absolute darkest times of my life when I lost my boy and my family was in disarray, it was Bonzo who came to me."
Finally, Page and Bonham convince Plant to stay in music, to stay with Zeppelin, when Jimmy told him to take a break until he's ready, and that the band is nothing without Robert.
Zeppelin returns in 1979, though the light has dimmed. Jimmy and Bonham lose themselves further. If you take a look, In Through The Out Door is largely about Robert's feelings once more. When recording and writing, it's often said that the band had split in two: Sober (Plant and JPJ) and not sober (Page, Bonham) . While Plant and Jones wrote and composed, the other two would fail to show up on time, sometimes even at all. As previously mentioned, All My Love and I'm Gonna Crawl are tributes to Karac. In The Evening is about the struggles and stress faced even through his stardom and wealth.
Carouselambra tells the story of Zeppelin's fall. From kings, gods, to rust. In particular, it details the loneliness and betrayal felt by Plant after his band mates failed to be there for him.
"Where was your word, where did you go?
Where was your helping, where was your bow?
Dull is the armour, cold is the day
Hard was the journey, dark was the way, way
I heard the word, I couldn't stay, oh
I couldn't stand it another day, another day"
In particular, "Where was your word, where did you go?" struck with me.
The rest of the album is filled with lighter, story centered, and explorational songs. Plant knew that while Zeppelin was there, it was nearing its end. Come Knebworth, a great show, but Robert is different, you see it in his eyes. The naivety, the innocence, the belief that he could have it all, has faded.
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And nobody else is the same at knebworth, either.
Fast forward a year and John Bonham dies, god rest his soul. Led Zeppelin breaks up. Robert loses his best friend and son in the span of 3 years.
Icarus burns. The zeppelin crashes.
Robert distances himself from the rock scene, exchanging most of his heavy vocals to explore different genres of music. He shies away from Zeppelin, but the public is calling for more. An encore. A reunion. Each one goes wrong, between being too stoned and ill timed, the improper rehearsals, the matter not being taken seriously.
Page and Plant starts and Robert finds himself back in his old shoes, polished and new. He enjoyed it this time around, digging up unreleased material and playing it "Unledded."
The masses want more. The golden god, playing the same old tune and having to visit the same old wounds of life. They want the sun to shine like it had been touched again, but the sun shined differently back then. The public dooms him to the same old song he's been fighting to escape, but the song doesn't remain the same, the song has changed.
He's still beautiful. Still Robert Plant. But he's not the same as he was, he's not the bright, young boy performing Stairway to the crowd for the first time, or 50 playing as Page and Plant. He's past that.
December 10th, 2007, O2 Arena, London. He says good evening. One last show. Jason Bonham on drums and backing vocals. John Paul Jones, keyboard and bass guitar. Jimmy Page, electric guitar. And himself, Robert Plant. A legendary show, honored to Ahmet Ertegun.
After, Jones and Jimmy want to continue with a reunion. Robert doesn't, won't. He has a solo career. He's fought to free himself from the golden boy he was. This isn't him anymore. These aren't his songs.
He grows disconnected from his songs of Zeppelin, a lifetime ago. He grows to hate stairway, until it's 2012 at the Kennedy Honors Center. Heart performs Stairway to Heaven with a choir and Jason Bonham. Robert tears up, seeing his best friends son out there. In that moment, he grows to appreciate Stairway: Only if it's sung by a younger voice, though.
The media wants more. The people want more. They will always want more, it's never enough, but he can't sing a song that's lost its meaning to him.
Robert Plant is a man of many times. The golden god we know of now is eternally different from who he was. I will always love him through all walks of life, each and every stage.
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br1ghtestlight · 3 months
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jimmy jr x tina x zeke works for many reasons including:
tina is canonically polyamorous and deserves as many boyfriends as she wants
zeke could be more physically affectionate w/ tina to make up for jimmy jr being more touch-averse so jimmy jr doesn't feel pressured into anything while still being loved, and jimmy jr and tina will still have that long history of friendship
tina was jimmy jr AND zeke's first kiss. double points for both of them
jimmy jr and zeke won't have to worry about their friendship losing focus if they enter a relationship because they'll be DATING EACH OTHER and they can talk about their super cool girlfriend when they're hanging out w/ each other
zeke and jimmy jr can wrestle together while tina cheers them on. its foolproof
tina and zeke can talk about how cool jimmy jr is AND tina and jimmy jr can talk about how cool zeke is. there's always someone to gush about their partner to who will get it
zeke can protect both of them bcuz he is brave and they're both anxious :)
higher chances of having a class with at least one of their partners so they won't be ever alone. and they can eat lunch together (with tina's siblings obvs)
jimmy jr won't have to be jealous of zeke or tina because he will be dating BOTH OF them (he is clearly the jealous type as seen in two for tina and the two-butted goat episode and i dont think he would know how to survive without either one of them)
they're cuties and they all love each other a lot <3
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jaxon-c6 · 7 months
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I was thinking about height and names in the wasteland.
Height: I think humanity would slowly evolve to become shorter just like how through the centuries we evolved to become taller.
In the Wasteland, I think, being shorter can help with survival. Or not. But to think about it we started to become taller because our lifestyle became much better than it was before and it, for some reason, led us to become taller means, to me at least, in the Wasteland while struggling with survival the reverse would happen.
Might really do something with survival, like better hiding or something with muscles, someone might know better than me anyway.
Names: Names are pretty important to us. We not only give names to humans, we name... well, just about everything. I think this might be different in the Wasteland. Names might lost their meaning. Some might not even have names. They might abandoned it or was never given any.
And so when you come across generic raider #5 then it might be his entire persona. He might think he is a raider, takes his entire identity as this, and that is all.
Or perhaps they just feel like they don't want to share their names while shooting at... well, anyone.
Also, as a bonus. Many people must have some mutations but not the super mutant kind of. Instead some little ones, what might not even be noticed. I heard somewhere the blue eye and when someone looks into the sun and sneezes is some kind of mutation, I was immediately thinking about it. Even if these 'facts' are not true, for idea they are cool.
Let's say we have Jimmy. Jimmy has, I don't know, thicc skull. The kind you can hit with a damn hammer and the hammer would break. He finds it completely normal because he was always like this, and he just jokes about it with others.
Not every mutation must be a bad kind of mutation because that just makes no sense. To me, at least.
The entire Earth was ravaged through nuclear fire, it becomes irradiated, many things, if not all, mutated. That amount of radiation caused that. Humans are not the same as they were before the war, they must have changed. In many ways. Those living the longest in the Wasteland, like being the descendants of others who also lived there, means they might have more than those who just recently moved out into the Wasteland.
Edit: Read the reblogs, they wrote some really good things about this
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iamafanofcartoons · 1 year
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Why Ironwood’s actions made him a villain, and Team RWBY’s actions made them heroes.
Let’s go into some perspective about why Ironwood + his regime, and not Team RWBY, was the actual “worse than salem” group. And why Team RWBY are the heroes, and Ironwood and his regime the antagonists.
Let’s turn back the clock to before James threatened to nuke Mantle or blackmail Penny into helping him, and shot down planes that would carry people to safety.
“He genuinely offered all his resources to Team RWBY and co to maximize all the chances of them getting better and winning.” While squeezing Mantle dry.
Pre-V8 he still was authoritarian militarist, who locked down Atlas and Mantle, crippling its trade and defense capabilities of other regions, which led to a lot of people left to starve or die to Grimm, and he was also squeezing Mantle dry on top of it with a blatant disregard to its safety, and only giving it token "support", while his Huntsmen were more concerned with arresting people protecting Mantle, than helping them fight back Grimm.
Mantle was dying in volume 7, and it was all James’ fault, and critics were demanding that after Ironwood squeezed and bled Mantle dry, that Atlas abandon Mantle.
The writing is on the wall, but people are so focused on how he treated RWBY and co that they completely miss (ironically, unlike RWBY and co themselves, as it was their major concern) how he treats literally everyone else.
Of course he would treat them well, they are a very useful asset! Unlike people of Mantle, who could die in a ditch for all he cares.
That's not to say that he wants them dead, of course... he just doesn't care about them. He doesn't care about the people he's sworn to protect.
“ For Mantle, the entire point of the Huntsmen down there was to secure it and cover for the lack of resources. “
Lack of resources he himself created, funneling every drop of dust to his pet project.
James was always a borderline dictator. And he could pretty much brow-beat the Council to do what he needs, seeing how he held two seats out of five, and one was vacant.
“But James isn’t authoritarian!”
Authoritarian: Favoring or enforcing strict obedience to authority at the expense of personal freedom.
“But Ironwood was trying to prevent invasion of Salem’s agents”
They infiltrated Atlas through Mantle, by means of using outdated security. With Watts even explicitly pointing out that Atlas got the shiny upgrades, but no one cared to get them to Mantle. And Cinder and Neo still got in. Ironwood failed spectacularly. As he always does.
People were losing their jobs and their living because of lockdown, and those who kept theirs, were working in harsh conditions. Grimm regularly invaded Mantle. People couldn't even get their children to schools without Huntsmen protecting them.
“Its for the greater good”
I just don't see any merit in humoring ideas that treat people as expendable pieces on the path to some lofty goal. "Some of you may die, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make" logic is the logic of villains.
“Ironwood employed Penny and the robots, that shows he cares!”
The robots were shown to be like Star Wars Movie stormtroopers in terms of effectiveness, and Star Trek Redshirts in terms of survivability.
Also, not caring for someone implies not giving any thought to their problems, and in this particular case those problems were directly or indirectly created by Ironwood's actions or negligence. Sending Penny down there is a band-aid, an illusion of action. Also he was running her 24/7, having girl do the job of an entire military and her sole energy source and repairs comes from her dying father, who’s also being run ragged on Jimmy’s project.
“But Team RWBY used the satellite?”
Should we just discard the progress, if it was made by amoral means? Or should we rather use it, to at least in some way honor those who suffered for it?
“But Ironwood didn’t commit murder till he shot Oscar”
Murder is not the only weapon in dictatorship's arsenal. There’s media control and forbidding public functions and mass gatherings, which Ironwood did in the first episode of V7. There’s also banning weapons unless you’re in the dictator’s private army, which Clover literally confirmed in the 2nd episode, even ignoring Qrow’s license.
“Influential people aren't simply council members. People with money and connection need to receive privileges in exchange for services they may provide. That's how politics work. “
And yet, he literally SINGLEHANDEDLY LOCKED DOWN ATLAS. And neither other council members, nor other "influential people", represented in a show by Jacques, could stop him, despite it hurting their bottom lines. Whoops.
“ Y'all keep forgetting what being a soldier/military man entails. You obey your superior without question. That's not authoritarian, that's how any self-respecting army functions. “
Huntsmen aren’t supposed to be soldiers, they’re warriors who act with a code and serve society, not a general who treats everything like a contest of measuring “GLYNDA!”
Ironwood privatized the Huntsmen System, thus preventing Atlas Huntsmen from serving society, with the exception of the Happy Huntresses, who Clover called “Worse than Grimm” to Qrow. Imagine that defying Ironwood makes you worse than Grimm? Apparently that’s all it took for Robyn Haters.
Speaking of Clover...obeying orders without question? You mean like how Clover decided to defend Ironwood’s decision to abandon Mantle, try to arrest Qrow, and completely disregard the mission to capture Tyrian because “Good soldiers follow orders?” Then the Qrow vs Tyrian vs Clover fight makes sense. Tyrian wanted to cause chaos, Qrow wanted to stop Ironwood and Tyrian, and Clover wanted to obey Ironwood’s orders without question. Qrow made the mistake of thinking that Tyrian, who had never lied before, had meant that “putting the kid to bed” simply meant incapacitating Clover, not killing Clover. Meanwhile Clover had no problem arresting anyone who wasn’t licensed by Ironwood or carrying weapons that weren’t part of Ironwood’s army. I guess Clover did die as he lived...not a huntsmen, but a soldier.
“ Unless they showed someone's corpse or Team RWBY looking at beggars, there wasn't any sign of famine or death as you mention. The most there was is extra security and frequent robot patrols. “
Just because there are no corpses lying around on the streets, doesn't mean that people aren't suffering. A lot of the times their suffering goes unseen. You can't deny that Mantle looks like a mix of cyberpunk slum and depressive post-USSR Eastern Europe city. That's enough to make an educated guess about the state of the city and its inhabitants.
Just because Ironwood sacrifices some things, doesn't give him the right to sacrifice something he doesn't own - namely, other people.
Watts of all people called Jimmy out on neglecting Mantle's security. Aside from that, how did he help Mantle aside from sending a few Huntsmen there, which is, again, a band-aid, and an illusion of action?
“Ironwood trusted them like he trusted Ozpin” Remember what he did to Ozpin in V2. You know, the whole going behind his “Friend’s” back to get Ozpin, Salem’s chief nemesis and founder of the schools, fired? And also putting Penny in the Vytal Tournament despite nobody allowing it if they knew she was an android? This is the same guy who talked about trust? Ironwood is a hypocrite because he loves to talk about trust while betraying everyone else’s.
Remember the episode “Sparks?”
Unrest doesn't happen like *snap* and everything blows up. Tension grows gradually and usually goes unnoticed, until it's at the point when a slightest spark is enough to ignite the situation. What Jacques and Watts did was that spark, but the groundwork was laid by Ironwood's actions raising the tension between Mantle and Atlas. And that growing unrest could be seen as far back as e1 of that volume - specifically, in the drunk racist and Forest.
“Ironwood didn’t expect Watts to be alive!”
Someone broke through a military grade cyber security and caused all Atlesian robots and mechs to go "Execute Order 66″  on people. Whether or not it was Watts is irrelevant, because it's a known (to Ironwood) fact that there's someone capable of doing it*.* You don't need a hindsight to account for it, just a regular sight and basic common sense. Which Ironwood has none. That Ironwood, knowing this, only went as far as updating the infrastructure in Atlas, but not in Mantle, is not just negligence, it's a sabotage of his own goals.
The fact is that Ironwood's methods revealed his disregard for people with whom his goals don't align.
“Ironwood was to take drastic actions! There needed to be sacrifices"
The sacrifices began when he locked down Atlas and Mantle. They were just incidental, a product of ignorance and negligence.
“Atlas was the mightiest military” Name one battle they won that didn’t involve Team RWBY’s help?
Their ships could barely fire upon some giant worms, and had not been updated since the great war, causing them only to be able to effectively fire single laser shots against other ships.
An elite huntsmen can take out tons of weaker grimm. And Ironwood’s ships were useless against grimm as well. The paladins could work...yes.But they had a nasty habit of being stolen or hacked...which was again, ironwood’s fault.
“Qrow was willing to trust Ironwood!”
Even though Qrow told them in V6 that they should ask Ironwood for help, by the time the team actually met Ironwood, Qrow had changed his position to not talking to him. Sound familiar? Something Lionhart?
Ironwood didn't take defensive measures against Salem's forces. We see in the very first episode that whatever Ironwood is doing to keep Salem's forces out of Mantle isn't working.
We learned in episode 2 that he was not only aware of his actions having literally the exact opposite effect of what he was promising the people of Mantle, but he also accepted that.
Even before the main cast met Ironwood, they knew he either had no idea what he was doing, or he wasn't on their side any more. They didn't know which it was, but they already knew they couldn't count on him.
The grand sum of Ironwood’s character is:
“I can tolerate leaving thousands of innocents to die for some vague concept of the great good, but I draw the line at insubordination and lying.”
“But Ruby and Yang were being hypocritical in going behind Ozpin’s back!” A huge part of volume 7 was that Ruby realized that Ozpin was ultimately morally grey, and morally grey I mean his actions he took while thinking of other people. Selfishness is the complete opposite of morally grey, which instantly disqualifies Raven Branwen (mass murderer and thief), Adam Branwen (Mass murderer and terrorist), and Roman Torchwick. (Thief, murderer, and racist) from ever being qualified as morally ambiguous. As a result, Ruby ends up acknowledging Ozpin’s points, and even starts working with him again in V8. Yang on the other hand was agreeing with Blake’s points during the cargo truck ride and decided to go: “Hey Robyn, I know jimmy is oppressing your people and your actions against him are valid, but he’s trying to restore global communications for the greater good and his ‘protector of mantle’ didn’t actually kill your constituents, so if you could please stop taking back what’s yours, James will eventually repair mantle.”
And Robyn went: Okay.
Yang and Blake got Robyn to be willing to compromise with Ironwood, something Ironwood cannot do himself, and something he is incapable of getting people to do unless he abuses his military and political power, which he does on a regular basis.
“But Robyn was a terrorist who sabotaged the project!”
She was taking back the supplies that were meant for Mantle, that Ironwood was stealing from Mantle, for his personal project that was done without the council’s authority. She was giving those supplies back to the people of Mantle. Which emboldened the suppliers of Mantle in giving them hope that they could pressure Ironwood to repair Mantle’s defenses. Ironwood’s response? Call the entire city of Mantle “A few cityblocks”
“Robyn’s outfit and equipment was ridiculous compared to Ironwood’s military”
Yeah, when you’re in a city that’s poorer than Vacuo and oppressed by a small-minded man with a giant ego, you don’t tend to have access to the best equipment, clothes, etc. Not to mention that unlike Vacuo, Huntsmen aren’t allowed to protect people in Atlas unless they’re part of Ironwood’s private army.
“Team RWBY were selfish, Ruby is acting just like Roman!”
Lying to save lives and prevent human extinction is not the same as lying for your own self interest. When the gang steal and airship to get into Atlas, it isn’t an evil thing. They are doing it so they can save lives and protect innocent people. The good guys make sacrifices when they have to, where there is absolutely no other choice. Ironwood would sacrifice anything he could to protect his people, you can debate whether or not he’s a true villain, but he goes to far. Sacrifice isn’t a last resort for him, he believes it is. But most villains believe they’re on the right side. This is why most “Rewrites” that try to “Fix” Roman, Adam , or Ironwood go out of their way to rewrite the plot and characters to try to claim that the Villains are in the right, and to shame any female characters who stand in their way. The both the White fang and the good side use violence. But the white fang use violence and seek division and persecution as vengeance for their own struggles. Ultimately, through salem’s manipulation, they divide the intelligent creatures of Remnant. They attack hurt innocent people to further their own goals. The good guys use violence so that violence can be ended. Remind you of anyone? Cough cough, Batman! The sin of the cynic is acting purely in self-interest. Torchwick's line of "lie, cheat, steal and survive" refers to putting his needs first and foremost. It's not the same as resorting to desperate methods to save lives. Like, Jaune cheating his way into Beacon is motivated by self-interest, but his idea to steal an airship in V6 was motivated by keeping others safe. He isn't proving Torchwick's ideals are right in the latter instance, it's quite the opposite. Same with Ruby.
I'm not sure how people can say that Ironwood was proven right when we are shown that there were ways to save the people of Mantle. It's not even a one-time thing either, he thought that he had to keep forcing Mantle to make sacrifices but it turns out it was completely possible to make a compromise with them.
And if we're going to be completely honest it's Ironwood's refusal to compromise that's the biggest factor regarding Atlas's fate. For example, Neo was able to steal the lamp because his soldiers unintentionally gave her the opportunity and a way to escape. It's what led to Robyn acting the way she did on the plane and everything involving Penny was because of him.
Frankly, the only point I can give critics is the white Fang and it's only because the series so horrifically failed to demonstrate the difference between Sienna and Adam.
“But Ironwood was prepared to compromise with Robyn”
He wanted to have her taken into custody 1st and only then was he going to "negotiate," with her... I don't think I need to explain how this is not under any circumstances an actual compromise.
The actual compromise between Ironwood and Mantle took place in the Schnee Manor and that was entirely thanks to Blake, Yang, and sadly Jacques. And that was a compromise that he broke mere hours later when he decided to completely unnecessarily abandon them all to die... A decision he made without seeking any advice and then straight up threatened the people who dared question him on it.
“Sleet: The fact of the matter is, you've operated with a fair amount of autonomy for the past few years, James. But we need now is for you to work with us “
So Ironwood disrespected his peers and did whatever he wanted, and when called out on it, refused to listen to his colleagues, his equals.
A person arrested and completely at James’ mercy ISNT really a negotiating.
“I can either throw you in jail for the rest of your life OR you can agree to work under me, under my terms and conditions.”
What a “””negotiation.“”” Much fair.
“But Ruby is the villain in the trolley scenario!” If the Trolley is the floating city of Atlas, then the people of Mantle are the ones lashed to the tracks, and Ironwood put them there. Salem is coming up behind the Trolley, and Ironwood wants to bulldoze over the Mantle people. Ruby and the Gang want to get the people on board, but Ironwood refuses to let them on. To the point where he will do anything to prove he’s right and somebody is wrong. Ironwood is literally the man who cuts off his nose to spite his face. So Ruby and Crew use Ambrosius to get everyone to a new destination.
“Ruby and crew destroyed Atlas!” According to Cinder, RWBY saved thousands. And if  you think an infrastructure is what makes a kingdom, then you forget that a kingdom is nothing without living breathing people, who live in Atlas, who have made it to Vacuo, and while Vacuo is about as xenophobic as Atlas, they put power in the people, and everyone there works together for the common society. Aka, the greater good. The people of Atlas can do good for each other, when Ironwood isn’t sabotaging everything.
“Ruby sabotaged Ironwood’s broadcast!” Ironwood’s broadcast was “Hey world, I want you to ignore every bad thing I’ve done and every red flag I’ve given off because there’s a greater evil in the world, and I want you to let me use my army that failed to protect everyone into your borders just like I forcibly brought my army into the Vytal Peace festival. I promise I won’t do anything behind your backs like use your events for weapon testing of the human soul like I did back then?
What was Ruby’s Speech? “Hi Everyone, I’m a Huntress, my job is to help you all. Listen, Atlas is under attack by the same bad person that brought down Beacon. We’re all in the same mess. Yeah, she can’t be killed, but everyone working together has been able to stop her the past 80 years, and if we all work together again, we can do it again. Here’s some people you can trust to validate the info, but Ironwood can’t be trusted because of all his actions in the past and his red flags. I believe in you all, because you all can do incredible things, and together everyone can stop Salem”
So Ruby was trying to unite humanity, give EVERYONE the hope and strength to work together and fight Salem, and stop Ironwood from getting too big for his britches.
Ruby was not being a savior, Ironwood was trying to act like he was. Ruby was trying to make humans and faunus alike the saviors. Power of the People.
“Ironwood is a battle-hardened experienced general!” Remnant had been at peace for 80 years, the only conflict was Grimm and the White Fang. And Adam represented the main bad people out there...in Vale. So Ironwood basically used a display of military bravado for everything (Glynda’s words) and people think that’s battle experience? If that’s the case, then Team RWBY and JNPR have loads of experience both on Ironwood in terms of tactics, and on the Ace Ops in terms of combat. Oh wait! THEY DO! That explains why Ironwood fails so spectacularly against Salem and her agents tactics till Team RWBY comes along to help, and why Team RWBY can defeat the Ace Ops.
”He was completely different back in volumes 2-3!″
Why did people look at Adam Taurus, a wannabe edgelord who tried to murder innocent passengers on a train....and then people decided to defend his every action? Claiming Adam was “misunderstood?” What, like Vergil from Devil May Cry, who murdered innocent people for power and had no problem unleashing monsters onto civilians, just like Adam did in Volume 3?
Why did people look at Ironwood, who brought a war fleet to a international peace conference, got screamed at for his warmongering by the Assistant Headmaster who kept her voice relatively level even against team rwby’s food fight, got the headmaster fired for not obeying Jimmy, and used the conference to conduct weaponization of the human soul projects....and claim he was a savior?
So yeah...Ironwood was cool, had drip, had charisma, had good intentions. But his actions spoke louder than his words. Sadly people only listened to his words. Must be his Messiah Complex.
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rosemariad · 2 months
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Supernatural season 14
Oh boy!
So Alt-Michael has taken over Dean’s body and absconded to parts unknown - what an unprecedented plot twist who could’ve possibly seen this coming, certainly not Dean, the one guy who doesn’t trust angels and has a history of being short-sighted & making shitty deals.
Since this is season 14, and there’s only 1 more season after this, I presume Dean will never grow out of these bad qualities 🤦🏾‍♀️, so…moving on.
Check you out Sam, leading your new band of hunters, like some sort of Hunters Incorporated©️. I’m glad Sam gets to spend more time with his mom, but he won’t let her take care of him 😔😭
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Was it me or did that Michael & Anael scene feel like Jensen x Danneel role play 🤣 - at least when he caressed her face. Like really bro? I don’t think the scene would’ve played out that way if the actors weren’t actual husband and wife 🤣
Shoutout to Supernatural for keeping Mark Pellegrino employed lol 😂😂 cuz I don’t see Why the fuck he’s still around if the devil is supposedly dead - wasn’t Mark P. also doing 13 reasons why around this time?? Anywho, Nick, luci’s longtime vessel, isn’t dead???? What does Nick have that jimmy novak didn’t (or literally any other angel vessel for that matter) — plot convenience? That must be it 🤣🤣🤣
Cas honey, why are you letting these demons beat you up? Cuz Dean is gone on your watch? cuz im sorry there’s no way im believing Cas was weaker than all them demons. That’s also plot convenience IDGAF!
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After yet another demon-hunter showdown, Mary and Bobby are spotted sharing a beer & flirting…I wish John were around to see this AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Oh Jack, poor guy feels worthless for having no power. He should’ve been like ‘Castiel what’s it like being worthless?’ since that was Castiel’s arc for a minute too, which again fuck Supernatural for. Cas had like 1 badass moment last season when he fried Donatello’s brains but that’s it. Meanwhile Nick totally called Cas out, bringing up Jimmy again and driving that guilt straight into Castiel.
Alt-Michael is recruiting?? Brief Dean cameo in 14x02, you give him like 2 lines, wow 😒. Even Sam got more screen time in 5x22 swan song…but Dean suddenly comes back at the end of the episode???? Nah, bullshit!
Also lol karma for Dean in 14x02 when Jack is like, ‘Dean doesn’t matter’, Michael has to be stopped. Ahahahahahahaha. He was the so called pragmatist when it came to Jack, now it’s Jack’s turn. Castiel’s face when jack said it tho…
Dean got stabbed by AU Kaia? What?? Oh look yet another instance of Dean running away from his problems and pain and being a dick to Kaia (though she's technically a different person) again! Good for you tho AU Kaia for giving Dean a taste of his own medicine and telling him off.
Bobby leave Sam alone, I’m here for his captain my captain era. The lovable giant is doing his best!
So some necromancer gets away from Jack & Dean but we’re not gonna see her again, right??? There’s just a little over 30 episodes left in the show at this point. They probably didn’t know that at the time though.
Shoutout to the devil for basically condemning his child to die from a lack of grace :/ while Cas was able to survive (cuz plot convenience most likely) Jack as a nephilim was unable to do so. Gabe’s spare angel grace couldn’t help (I wonder if he were still alive in canon, if it would’ve made a difference. Oh well).
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So this is where Cas made the deal with the empty (yes I know about it, how doesn’t everyone that shit went viral the very night it originally aired amidst the infamous nail-biting 2020 election week), tumblr is still serving the memes to this day.
Cas doesn’t want the Winchesters to know cuz Dean 😭 idc, if I was Jack I would NOT keep that secret. Dean would know IMMEDIATELY.
I think more angels died, but heaven hasn’t fallen yet…right? They keep coming back to that. Hm…
Nick’s arc is…bleh. Pretty sure in his desperation he just brought Luci back from the empty…welp. I guess when you’re an archangel who was predestined by God to fight in a fateful epic battle against your big bro, you just get certain perks in the afterlife 😒
Sam doesn’t want Alt-Charlie to go when its like bro! She. Is. Not. Charlie!!! For fuck sake guys SMH, let her live her fucking life! God forbid she want to run away to fucking safety and not die bloody like her counterpart 🤬
Bobby and Mary run off to a cabin for weeks on end 😏😂 to recuperate, sure Mary 🤣
Garth is back! Working as a spy for the Winchesters, oh dear Lord no. I know he makes it to season 15 but maaaan I don't like this….
The nerve of Dean to challenge Alt-Kaia to either hand over the weapon or kill her. What if she just killed him? Also, can't they just replicate the weapon for their own uses? All they would need to do is ensure they're using the same materials Kaia did when she forged the weapon in her own world.
How many hits to the head is Sam supposed to fuckin' take? I feel like it's happened more in this season alone than the entire show so far? He should probably be dead at this point 🤣
Jack got taken, oh no! why didn't Michael kill him? To take him as a ward? Seriously? Whatever.
And it turns out the past episode was a long con to get Dean right where Alt-Michael wanted him. I know there was a catch to him letting Dean go in 14x02.
So Alt-Michael chose to trap Dean in…contentment? With Pamela Barnes? And they weren't even a couple, just friends. She called him out on something.
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Why not have him be with a real girlfriend of his, like Lisa or even Cassie? I’m supposed to believe Dean's dream is an unsuccessful bar living out his days with a platonic lady friend??? Really??? Bullshit!
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John returns for the final time to go back to 2003? Okay. His hair is cut and grayish. Lol so I’m gonna see that as John gained some weight (from food/drink or muscle training idc) and dyes his hair black but the root are grey and come out every so often 🤣 but yay JDM I wish you had been in more episodes! Oh well.
So no one’s gonna talk about:
a) Adam’s existence
b) Bobby X Mary or how Bobby essentially replaced john as the father/husband by getting involved with Mary AND being a surrogate father to Sam & Dean (with a clear preference to Dean but whatever)
I’d care more about Sam & John’s convo if we had more time with them together on screen. But it was nice to see them squash their beef.
Dean & John’s convo was faaaar too brief. But insightful to their relationship. John wanted dean to have a family, echoing his wishes for his eldest in season 1 in his convo w/ Sam.
But Dean was like I have a family 🥺 my emotions!
Back to the Michael bullshit – a fight with a gorgon fucked up his containment so he literally broke out of Dean's body and killed all the hunters who were conveniently at the bunker when they brought an unconscious Dean back there. Even poor unfortunate Maggie. For a second I thought Mary would be there since Maggie mentioned she was on her way back but no, he ended up possessing Rowena.
Then they bring the old angel torture device of disabling our heroes' ability to breathe, like in the season 5 premiere, making them blind (that's new) and making them hurt.
Jack gets his chance to take Michael down, and takes his grace??????
Oh Sam bby, it's not your fault. Those people were doomed no matter what. TBH I'm surprised they lasted this long. But cuz he's a Winchester and he was raised by Dean & they've rubbed off each other too much at this point (nobromo), he decides to focus on yet another case even when Dean himself isn't willing since big bro has pointed out they have done 3 cases back to back. They're not the young men they used to be lol.
Cas goes with Sam to a milkshake town and given his legendary levels of awkwardness he's immediately seen and called out for his inherent queerness by the townsfolk (in all senses of the word).
Aw Sam wants to stay, ofc he does. This town is simple and peaceful. He could use some of that. Too bad this place is making people's heads explode.
This is why we can't have nice things.
Ah subtle there Supernatural, making Jack, a Nephilim who's the offspring of the devil himself choose between angel and devil food cake 🤣 Dean why would you put him in that position?
Cas why you gotta be snitching on Sam to your boy bestie like that 🤣 – typical boyfriend tomfoolery
Oftentimes since Jack started in this show, he's felt like an intern and 14x16 is one of those times. They don't wanna bring jack along so they think to leave him alone doing chores. Good Lord.
Oh honey Sam you didn't have to tell the sheriff you're not FBI, just stick to the monster stuff. He knows what's up.
And Jack sweetie pie you don't need to impress those kids. He should be hanging out with kids his own age. Just Jack with a bunch of babies 🤣. So cute! My headcanon is that he can actually talk to them. At least then it wouldn't have ended with a stabbing. Thankfully he cleaned up his mess, even though the local kids are terrified of him. It’s a shame he doesn’t have friends. If only he was allowed to have Claire in his life.
They finally resolved the Nick storyline (I hope) by killing him off via Jack but Mary is not happy. She’s concerned. She’s been concerned about him the whole frickin episode since he sassed her as they tried setting up a game night with Dean.
It’s like these people keep forgetting what Jack is capable of.
He didn’t have to relish the kill though. On the other hand, it felt like Mary’s concern was a bit much — if it were me I would’ve kept my mouth shut as to not upset a powerful fledging being into killing me by accident.
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So Mary dies…again.
This is also why we can’t have nice things. I know Dean’s never gonna let this shit go. Sure Cas has fucked up a bunch, but killing a direct blood relative of Dean’s…nope. That’s unforgivable. I know they’re not gonna let Dean kill off a kid but I know he’s NEVER ever gonna forget Jack’s role in Mary’s (second) demise.
Why couldn’t you leave the boy alone Mary?!?!?!!?!
The boys show up, did they not circle back to pick up their mother? Seriously? Goodness Lord. So depressing watching the brothers just assuming their mommy’s coming back 😭
Cas (cuz of course this shit went tits up while Daddy was away) calls Dean to get caught up on what happened the last episode and is concerned that the Winchesters left their mom alone with Jack. Then why did you leave him Cas? You could’ve taken him with you. Like it would’ve been better if one of the brothers was alone with Jack? Badasses they may be, but they would’ve ended up just like Mary let’s be honest. The only difference would’ve been whichever brother got got would’ve come back. Mary will not be getting that special treatment…
Jack is tripping out since he murdered his foster G-maw - ends up flying all over the world (so his soul is definitely gone? But if it were gone, would he even care about killing Mary? everyone’s trying to track him down IDK why he doesn’t just destroy the phone he has. We get flashes of Mary & Jack’s time together and technically I believe she spent the most time with him (at least in season 13)
They’re still giving Mark P work on this show making him the manifestation of Jack’s subconscious cuz the kill is driving Jack insane 😭🥺 He’s reacting so much like a little boy who knows he fucked up it that makes this so much sadder 😭 Jack’s being driven mad with grief.
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Oh fuck they’re going to where she died. Oh fuck.
WTF is wrong with these people! He’s a fucking boy! A super power nuke of a boy, but still a fucking boy! Like the Winchesters never made a mistake! What about the nurse who got killed in 4x22 by Sam? All the people Dean slaughtered under the MoC, as a demon! That’s just off the top of my head! No but cuz they’re the fucking protagonists 😡🤬
Samuel Winchester you know manipulating this child Is 5 different kinds of fucked up!
Jack why did you call it an accident! Did you not want to use the words murder? Destroyed? Obliterated?
Dean you piece of shit, why are you lying to this boy!!!!!! You know Jack’s desperate to make peace with you, and you lead him to a grave he’s never supposed to escape?! Poor thing Jack was sooo scared!
Sam, the regret is gonna eat you alive! Sam, for fucks sake, SPEAK THE FUCK UP! You clearly got shit you wanna say, fucking say it!
Dean you’re surprised Jack’s going along with it?! Of course he’s gonna go along with it, he wants to please you, you shady, manipulative BASTARD!
That’s right Castiel stand up for Jack since nobody else is willing to!
Oh boy, the celestial boy is freaking out. Claustrophobia was kicking in, this shit ain’t gonna end well. It’s a dark day when a psychological manifestation of Satan is making sense more than everyone else.
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I’m not surprised Jack got out though. That box was made for an archangel and he isn’t that. He’s a nephilim, technically a different entity, right? now, the Winchesters have a pissed off mega-powerful creature on their hands. Great job team 🤣
that’s right Jack, give them a piece of your fucking mind! Fuck ‘em up queen.
Oh shit! I’ve watched this part a dozen times on YouTube, the part where jack makes the whole world tell the truth no matter what! Donald trump is canonically Crowley’s bitch! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
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All hail the stapler queen! Iconic!
And God reveals Himself, what grand timing! He says He came for Cas’s prayer (but Cas prayed to Him in season 6 too, no?) but then He states the real reason for His arrival — Jack.
Meanwhile Jack went to see his real G-maw, not a good plan Jackie boy. She’s put 2+2 together that her daughter Kelly is NOT ok and now Jack has to confess the truth. (Where’s the dad? Was the actor unavailable or dead at this point?)
Sam was outed to love Celine Dion (I love her two Sammy it’s ok, her songs are AMAZING! My favorite is it’s all coming back to me now, I crush that shit in karaoke.) Dean follows a mommy blog 🤣 of course he does, probably cuz he identifies with her more & loves that her life is so full of shit (like I said, he identifies with her).
God don’t sanction lying, the real God would never do such a thing. Isn’t it like the 6th commandment, thou shall not lie? Like dude, the fuck?!
And no, writing means telling stories that are often made up but it’s not meant to deceive anybody. But Hollywood on the other hand…yeesh.
Dean breaking Chuck’s guitar 🤣
Chuck saying ‘DON’T!’ Having Dean shook 🤣
Why are you asking them how things are, like you don’t know?! You’re omnipotent!
They canonically made the British queen a lizard? Damn. These old Americans (the writers) are dicks!
Finally Sam is speaking up! Thank God!
Dean stop blaming people, Jesus, it was an accident (Jack you phrased it sooooo poorly though)! shout out to Sam for taking it this so well cuz he’s been through too much this season alone. He lost a whole fucking army, then his mom after he got to know her this time! And the concussions! So many concussions.
Angry Cas is sooooo fucking hot 🥵 when he slammed that truck with his fist 😏
Awww the first thing he does when he sees Jack is hugs him. Jack needed that so bad!
The biggest travesty is we never got to see the SquirrelVerse!
When Sam asks if God is watching them — Sam do you even know what omnipotent means?!
It’s just like I said in season 11. God doesn’t owe anyone anything. But everyone owes Him everything. He gave everyone the freedom to choose, for better or worse. But this iteration of who God is seems to watch what people and creatures decide to do with their lives. He made the weapon to see who among Sam, Dean or Cas would take it and strike Jack down.
So ultimately when Dean tracks Jack down and Jack throws Cas into a tombstone and Sam is running dramatically to stop it, Dean ultimately decides not to kill Jack. But why though? He kept talking shit about how Jack needed to be dealt with, but when the moment comes, he won’t do it?! I mean I’m glad but it doesn’t really make sense?!
Was it the puppy eyes? Did Sam teach Jack that trick? But Jack closed his eyes at the last second???
Oh Dean, you’re such a fucking softie. That’s on you God. You made him softer than Mr. Pillsberry.
If anything, Dean is the step daddy. Cas is Daddy. And then there’s Uncle Sam 🤣
Sam is many things, but stupid is never one of them. Naïve maybe, trusting, desperate. But not stupid. And not crazy, this time 🤣
I will say what makes this story compelling is the fact that the Winchesters find themselves locked in a cycle of violence at the hands of their Creator, and they’re refusing to commit further acts of violence in effort to stop it all and rebel against their cruel, dispassionate maker. But they have no means to back it up…today.
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Not the Burger King catchphrase🤣🤣🤣
Not Jack being…smote?
Not Dean being yeeted into another tombstone?
Sam, why did you think that was gonna work on God? He made the weapon. You really think He’d make something that could kill Himself? Nah bruh.
So we’ve approached the ending of the penultimate season. 20 more episodes to go! Ah!!!! I’m excited but also not since the ending is what I know (mildly).
Side note - Sam & Dean still don’t know about Castiel’s bargain with the Empty (kinda seems pointless since God killed Jack anyway…Cas basically fucked himself for nothing 🤦🏾‍♀️ [I know how it ends but yeah still])
It’s not about the destination though, it’s the journey (I keep telling myself that).
God said fuck y’all. Shouldn’t’ve poked the bear…now these poor innocent people gonna die like sheep to the slaughter. Y’all got a lot of cleaning up to do and with so little people to help you.
So did God undo all the killings the Winchesters did? Cuz damn….that’s 10+ years of work undone. In 1 moment.
They’re not getting out of the cycle anytime soon.
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neoflames · 6 months
Text
Feeling normal about Mumbo being back in the life series and Martyn also being there
Word count: 1106 (I think)
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Martyn glanced around the circle of players, studying them in no particular order.
Jimmy. The canary hybrid looked a tad nervous, to say the least- hell, Martyn would be too if he'd been out first every previous game. His wings seemed slightly larger than they were in Limited Life, but they had yet to acquire the dim yellow glow that they normally donned when Jimmy was close to his inevitable fate. A faint expression of awe was plastered across the dark blonde's face as he stared down at the multiple rows of hearts on his communicator.
Grian. The parrot hybrid was explaining the rules of the series with a smirk that suggested he was going to break some of them only heartbeats after the group separated. He was squinting disapprovingly as the sun as it shone directly on his face, waving his hand as if gesturing for it to go away. He was glancing around with an amused expression as people exchanged muttered greetings.
Gem. Despite having been thrown headfirst into a death game, the redhead looked completely unfazed by this terrifying prospect. The grin on her face suggested she viewed it more as a challenge than a scramble for survival, and she too appeared to be silently assessing her fellow server members- her competitors, if you will.
Cleo. The zombie hybrid was staring at Lizzie (who appeared to have returned) with a starstruck expression, her mouth continually opening as if she planned to say something and then closing as if she decided against it. After a moment, Lizzie returned their stares with an awkward smile and Cleo decided that their nails were suddenly incredibly interesting and they should stare at them, actually. Despite the awkwardness of their reunion, Martyn still felt a slight pang of jealousy as Cleo glanced up and exchanged a genuine smile with her former teammate.
After a moment of struggling to ignore the person stood next to him, Martyn glanced to the side, his left hand reaching for the battered amethyst ring on his right. Mumbo.
Martyn stared uncertainly at the raven haired man smiling placidly in Grian's direction. Mumbo still looked exactly the same as he did in Martyn's memories- and his nightmares.
Unlike the rest of the server members (aside from Lizzie and Gem), who had steadily been gaining scars all over, permanent bloodstains from where they'd killed someone for good and grudges that caused them to shoot awkward glanced in the directions of others, Mumbo didn't look at all bothered by the situation he was in.
His skin was clear of scars apart from the one on his hand where Grian's sword had nicked him in Last Life, and he was looking  around at everyone with a smile, with no clear ill will towards anyone regardless of betrayals. Lizzie had a similar appearance- clearly being in only one death game had its benefits.
Martyn wasn't sure how to feel. He tried to think about how he'd felt towards Mumbo before, to try and make the ache in his chest make sense.
The polite curiosity that had appeared in the form of crude jokes and throwing lava at people as he spotted a new player- Mumbo Jumbo, what a ridiculous name.
The awkward silence followed by laughter and jokes as Martyn proclaimed Mumbo to be his husband.
The warmth he'd felt as they sat quietly and watched the sun set over the horizon, the feelings between them needing no words as they were expressed through the smile on both of their faces.
The dread he'd felt while he'd watched the life drain out of Mumbo as his teammate's name faded into red.
The anger he'd felt flooding through him at Mumbo's bloodlust-fuelled threats, as he shouted back meaningless insults in response.
The despair that had rendered him frozen to the spot as he watched Grian kick Mumbo's body to the ground, the dirty blonde yanking his blade out of his former teammate's chest without a regret in the world as a message flashed up in chat- 'MumboJumbo was slain by Grian using The Boogey Blade'.
The loneliness drowning out everything else around him as he let out hysterical laughs at his own delusions, as he reached out desperately for the illusion of his teammates as it faded, as he realised how alone he truly was.
The disappointment that flooded through him in Double Life and Limited Life when he realised Mumbo wasn’t there, that it had taken him two death games to recover from the events of one.
The heart-wrenching anguish he'd felt with every dream- every time he replayed Mumbo's death in his head, every time he remembered Mumbo's cold, uncaring gaze as Martyn watched warily, every time he'd reminisced in his sleep about how even a hint of something dark had caused him to whip his head around, just in case it was a hint of a scaly, jet black tail or soft black hair, or a gaze that was so dark but so warm at the same time.
Mumbo finally seemed to notice him playing with the ring on his right hand- the ring Mumbo also had, the ring that was identical to the one that Martyn had jokingly (not so jokingly) proposed to Mumbo with. And he smiled. The raven-haired man paused for a moment, searching through his pockets as Martyn stared down. He doesn't have the ring. Why would he? Nobody else is stupid and sentimental and clinging onto everything once gone, I shouldn’t be disappointed, I shouldn’t-
His train of thought was cut off as Mumbo slipped on the silver ring, the amethyst embedded into it catching the light and casting a thin purple light onto his face. It was a lot less battered than Martyn's ring, having only been through one death game instead of three, but it seemed well-looked after, just as polished and shiny as the day Martyn had first given it to him.
The blonde stared back at him, Grian’s speech fading into background noise as his breath caught in his throat. It was a small thing, holding onto a silly ring from a silly joke that was given as a silly gesture, but he couldn’t help but smile back.
Despite the fact that no words were exchanged, it felt like a million jokes, a thousand conversations and a hundred reunions were shared in just those few moments.
Martyn’s smile widened, and then he glanced back at Grian, still tugging slightly on his ring. He’s back.
He’s back. Again. For the first time in a while, looking down at his ring brought him no pain.
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bloodgulchblog · 2 months
Text
Okay. Alright. Here we fucking go again.
S2E4.
I already have one spoiler I'm completely unsurprised by, let's make it more.
I survive the LAST TIME ON HALO and my increasing desire to not be doing this right now, and am rewarded with one of this show's only endearing qualities: Vannak's ongoing animal guy personality trait. He gets to feed the pigeons for 2 seconds before the explosions start.
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Cut to Perez and Jimmy Rings running through the streets while Perez yells about having to get back to her family and Jimmy yells about how they're gone, Perez! (Also sorry I'm going back to calling him Jimmy Rings because I hate having to distinguish him from actual Chief and might as well do it in the most ridiculous way possible.)
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Then we immediately jump to Soren and Halsey in the funbox.
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Did you know that one of my least favorite things TV shows do is cliffhanger on a situation that could've been interesting, then ~subvert your expectations~ by making it completely uninteresting and resolving nothing?
Yeah.
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Gold star, no notes.
Then the power goes out.
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Soren just kinda leaves because the security system's off. Bye!!!
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Meanwhile again, Perez is very upset for obvious reasons and has a disagreement with Jimmy about what they should be doing. Jimmy wants to go back to FLEETCOM, while Perez wants to start warning everyone to evacuate RIGHT NOW.
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Perez this isn't gonna work I'm sorry.
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Anyway.
Suddenly Stealth Elite.
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Sorry it's so hard to get caps of these guys, I think the sfx people don't want you to look at 'em too close.
On the bright side, Halsey leaving with Soren shows they do have a chance of unlocking the comedy duo power I believed in.
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Back again.
They're really trying to speedrun some shit here.
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Like, this is so close to being in character (even though it isn't quite) but the problem is that they want to have this character say so much shit when the guy they have been trying so badly to emulate doesn't open up and it feels unearned/not worked up to. The problem with trying to crack open a character like the actual Master Chief is that it requires a ton of space and focus on doing that, and this project is so full of subplots and has scrapped so much of its own first season that it has even LESS time to develop enough rapport for me to not feel like I'm being hit over the head. Like I get it, I write insane shit with Chief trying to figure out how to communicate with people after he's decided he might be okay with it, but this just doesn't work for me.
This could work, but it kinda came in from the factory pre-bungled.
Anyway.
Jimmy Rings walking around this random building they're escaping through while holding a fucking axe he found is so funny to me.
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Speaking of the axe, it's apparently an antique!!! And this random building is a shop belonging to a British lady and, suddenly, we are going full WWII stiff-upper-lip blitz speech.
Fuck, hold on, I need another post for full effect-
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mcytrecursive · 3 months
Text
Nomination Overview - Post-Apocalyptic AU
A niche tag, so you'd think? Well not THAT niche, not in this fandom. 7 post-apocalyptic works so far, including our longest work nominated to date, (over half a million words), and several art AUs!
Title: this is about a stuffed bird Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36163102/chapters/90146260 Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP Author: Bee_4 Relationships: Mumbo Jumbo & Evil Xisuma Characters: Mumbo Jumbo, Evil Xisuma Length of the work: 78,043 words Genre: Action/Adventure, AU, Character Study, Friendship, Horror, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Type: Fic Summary: In which Mumbo crosses several towns, learns some creative methods of self-defense, fights some monsters, sees things no human is meant to have seen, befriends a stranger, steals multiple cars, has inconvenient moral scruples, grows increasingly terrified of his own culpability in the apocalypse, grows a spine, blows up at least one building, accidentally prevents a murder, and attempts to find his best friend in the futile but ever-burning hope the man’s still alive. He has to say, he’s so exhausted and terrified that he thinks he might just be mad? (OR: the one where, after most of humanity turns into a series of terrifying monsters, Mumbo decides he’s going to risk his life on an apocalypse road trip to try to find out if Grian is alive. Things, as you might imagine, devolve from there.)
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Title: greener grasses Rating: E-rated Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31163336/chapters/79676620 Fandom: Dream SMP Author: Apocynaceae Relationships: Quackity/Schlatt, Quackity&Karl, Quackity/Eret Characters: Quackity, Schlatt, Karl Jacobs, BadBoyHalo, Awesamdude, Ponk, Tommyinnit Length of the work: 569,475 words Genre: AU, Crossover, Drama, Horror, Modern AU, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Slow Burn, Time Travel, College AU Type: Fic Summary: Twenty-two years after the Survival Multiplayer event, Quackity has dreams of attending a law program in a walled city out West. Desperate to pay for expenses during his next semester at ManbergU, he accepts a TA position with his former professor. It's Quackity's last chance to get out of Manberg. It's his worst mistake. Features ghosts, time travel, possession, alternate universes, nonconsensual drug use, academic misconduct like you would not believe, an apocalypse, and midterm drama. 
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Title: Space Mining AU Link: here and here Fandom: 3rd Life SMP Author: wszczebrzyszynie Relationships: Team Ranchers, Cledubs, Ethubs, Scarian, Treebark, Convex brothers, ImpSkizz, Flower Husbands. Zedaph, Doc, Pearl and Gem are also characters. Everything mentioned as platonic, except romantic Jizzie. Characters: Tango and Jimmy Genre: Action/Adventure, AU, Drama, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Space AU Type: Art Summary: Space Mining AU. Tango was an engineer, became a wanted terrorist after he blew up Callisto, a moon where he was doing illegal skulk mining. He blew it up alongside other miners after finding out that skulk is alive, parasitic and infecting people, but he ended up being the sole survivor of the explosion, and the skulk wasn't completely sealed off. He ends up living with Desert Duo for a while (a pair of also dangerous criminals), and that's where he meets Jimmy. It kind of all goes downhill from there.
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Title: the last days of the free angel of carrows  Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41524917 Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP Author: Bee_4 Relationships: Mainly Joe & Cleo & Pearl Characters: Joe, Cleo and Pearl Length of the work: 79,327 words Genre: Action/Adventure, AU, Casefic, Fantasy AU, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Angels & Demons AU Type: Fic Summary: The Atsign Agency: run by Joe Hills and the zombie Cleo, they're here to solve all of your supernatural problems, hauntings, magical accidents, and also just about any contracting work or errands you need if you're willing to have it done cheaply by two unqualified odd jobbers struggling to make rent. After over a decade together in the city of Carrows, the two of them frequently see things and deal with things that are probably a bit too ridiculous to name, and have the experience to handle it, if not particularly frequently the money. When the mysterious (and clearly very rich) Pearl Moon walks into their agency, offering them a massive payment for a simple job, what are they to do but accept? Yeah, they may be about to regret that one. This job is going to be anything but simple, and the entire City of Angels may be at stake. Careful, Atsign Agency: the past is watching.
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Title: future site of something Better [a fabulous killjoys au] (Restricted) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48146797/chapters/121412023 Fandom: Dream SMP Author: hallmarked_error Relationships: Jack Manifold & TommyInnit, Ranboo & TommyInnit, Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot Characters: Tommyinnit, Technoblade, Philza, Wilbur Soot, Jack Manifold, Ranboo, Tubbo Length of the work: 54,020 words Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, AU, Found Family, Post-Apocalyptic AU Type: Fic Summary: a fabulous killjoys au featuring the cast of the dsmp (plus a few others thrown in for good measure), inspired by the concept album by mcr and the comics by gerard way.
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Title: Last of Us + Tntduo Link: here Fandom: Dream SMP Author: ashthefrogprin Relationships: Quackity/Wilbur Characters: Quackity, Wilbur Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, AU, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Romance, Slow Burn Type: Art Summary: A series of images depicting quackbur in a The Last of Us AU, followed by a brief summary of a few scenes the artist was imagining. Wilbur has a shotgun; Quackity has an axe. They're both traveling across the country together trying to find a safe harbor with other survivors-- and, as it turns out, being in close quarters with someone during life-threatening situations means the two of you tend to bond. Odd thing, that.
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Title: Just the Two of Us  Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45549838/chapters/114615043 Fandom: Dream SMP Author: eepyvoid Relationships: Philza & Tommyinnit Characters: Philza & TommyInnit  Length of the work: 6,675 words Genre: Angst, Dark Fic, Found Family, Post-Apocalyptic AU Type: Fic Summary: As the world descended into zombie apocalypse driven madness, the number of living people was cut in third - two of those people being Philza Minecraft, an infamous criminal who was wanted by everyone for all the wrong reasons, and a small former 'lab rat' kid, TommyInnit, a small and scared child being free for the first time. The two meet, and team up, both not sure how mere friendship looks like. Or, Two traumatized blondes bonding over their shared lack of other people to trust in their life, under the looming threat of the zombie apocalypse.
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captainschaos · 2 years
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Tango, the phoenix, finds himself surrounded by flames. One would think this would bring him comfort, a sense of warmth and belonging. One would be dead wrong.
When Jimmy pointed out the fire, Tango didn't even have to see it for himself before going into a rage. Even in the moment his head was still turning over his shoulder to spy the threat to their livelihood, Tango's hair had began to go ablaze and his eyes began to glow, glow the angry red of coals that refuse to burn out quietly. It feels more like scrambling than running as Tango rushes over the terrain toward the ranch, Jimmy trailing behind, both of their sets of wings trailing behind them, useless in this world that keeps all winged folk grounded. Torture on top of this torture.
Inside the fire, Tango feels no warmth. Not from the outside, at least. He continues to scramble, using his claws to heave himself up the sides of the walls to reach tongues of teasing flame, hissing curses to himself each time they evade him and he has to leap up a second time, a wasted time. Jimmy calls to him from below where he helps as much as he can, but he is not a phoenix. Tango doesn't blame him whatsoever for that, but he is highly aware of Jimmy's vulnerability. Far less important to Tango is Jimmy's ability to help, it's his ability to survive. And so in this fire, he does not feel safe. He does not feel comforted, he does not feel any sort of kinship. This fire is an ugly fire which would do harm to his soulmate.
He would never be anything like this.
"I'm going to burn to death!"
The remark comes from Tango, the phoenix, and at first is a surprise to Jimmy. It takes him a moment to realize what that could possibly mean, since the phoenix cannot burn. But then he realizes while a phoenix cannot burn, a canary can.
Jimmy looks up at his soulmate, still furiously racing to put out the flames, and for a second he feels warm as he is once again reminded of how Tango cares for his life unlike many others have before. Jimmy gave his warning, but Tango wants anything but his death for it. And then that thought fades as he feels cold against the burn of the flames consuming their home.
The others come quickly enough, and they manage to put out what Tango can't reach. Jimmy is thankful for them, but halfway through his thanks he looks toward Tango, and sees something that scares him. It's not Tango's flames, it's not his outstretched wings of fire, it's not his charcoal claws. It's the ones stoking them. He sees Cleo and Scott egging Tango on, fueling the rage he's flown into. Jimmy immediately drops his conversation with the boat boys and goes to Tango, taking his face in his hands and telling him look at me, don't listen to them, we need to think this through, okay? But still, the others keep poking his soulmate. He knows what they want. In this moment Tango is not a person to them, he's a toy. A tool for entertainment. Jimmy doesn't pretend to know how much work went into the ranch for Tango, doesn't pretend to know how it feels to have his blood of sorts written on the walls he built, but he does know what it feels like to be used by others. And he's not going to let that happen.
So he does something he has rarely done before: he outlasts the others. For each piece of fuel one of the neighbors puts on Tango's fire, Jimmy comes back to hold Tango back. Wherever won't burn him, Jimmy holds onto his soulmate, grabbing his arm when he tries to go to Scar's, holding his cheek when he tells him that they will have their revenge, but not now, not like this. They won't be toys for the others. But unlike Jimmy's lives before, they will fight back. It's something the canary has began to learn from the phoenix. Not to die easily, not to let the others dictate his end. But he isn't going to let Tango run off to use his anger for their entertainment. Not like so many others have done to him.
He would never be anything like them.
[I have one of these for each week! This is 2/5]
[first // next]
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thetomorrowshow · 1 month
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glass and grey hoodies
empires superpowers au masterlist (not up to date)
mind the content warnings on this one, folks. in an altered mental state, jimmy attempts suicide several times in the first portion of the fic. the rest of it is an account of his time in the psych ward.
this story takes place between chapters 9 and 10 of ‘poisoned rats’.
cw: past abuse, suicide attempts, blood and injury, hospitals, flashbacks
~
It’s loud.
It’s loud, and his head hurts, and he doesn’t know where he is and he doesn’t like it.
He opens his eyes to see blurry white walls. Figures standing over him. The pinch of a needle in his arm. An ache that spreads from his neck all the way to the tips of his toes.
He’s back on the table, then.
He doesn’t remember what happened before now, but he knows what this means. If he’s back on the table, something bad happened. If he’s back here. . . .
He suddenly knows. They’re going to take it away.
He’d misbehaved enough that they’re going to take away whatever they put in him all that time ago, whatever it is that lets him control his powers and makes his life the least bit livable. And it’s his fault.
He knows what he has to do, then. He can’t go back to that.
The scientists know he’s awake, he thinks, but either they don’t care or they want him awake, because no one reacts to him looking around, taking stock of things the best he can.
There’s some sort of surgical instrument on a rolling table near his left arm. Something sharp. Something that, if he can sit up quickly, he can reach.
He does a little test of his stomach muscles, tensing them and moving as if to sit up. Painful, but certainly doable.
He has to do it now, then. Before it’s too late.
He sits up, and maybe it’s a bit slower than it should be, because there’s a rubber glove of a hand pressing into his shoulder, loud words that he doesn’t understand—but he isn’t slow at all when he grabs the sharp tool and plunges it into his gut.
-
He wakes up again later, still bleary and with a stabbing pain in his lower stomach.
Funny, he thinks. He did stab himself, after all.
The problem is, however, that he survived. He didn’t mean to survive. He meant to be completely out of this world, away from the lab, away from the scientists, away from his master and all the blood he’s spilt.
Luckily, the room is empty. He’s sure it won’t be soon, not now that he’s conscious.
It’s not easy for him to sit up. It’s even more difficult for him to stand, going all lightheaded and woozy from pain.
So, pretty much the norm.
There’s scissors on the counter that lines the right side of the room, no other potentially dangerous items in sight. He glances toward the clear glass sliding door. The curtain in front of it is pulled back, and anyone walking by could see him.
He hobbles to the counter, stuck by a tugging in his right arm that he realizes is because it’s hooked up to some machine of some sort. It luckily has wheels, so he pulls it along a few steps until he can reach the scissors.
His hand is firm when he starts slashing the blades across his wrists.
-
He wakes up restrained after they knock him out again.
He doesn’t like that at all.
Restrained means velcro around his wrists, holding him to the hospital bed. Restrained means quiet sobs as he pulls against them. Restrained means wishing over and over that he hadn’t failed, because now he won’t have another opportunity.
However, they don’t really . . . do much to him. Someone in scrubs comes by every so often, asks him a bunch of questions that he doesn’t care to listen to, and writes things on a dry erase board on the wall. A man sits beside him, also in scrubs, scrolling through his phone and lazily eating a bag of chips.
And that’s it, for a while. He even stops crying out of confusion, just lies there and stares at the ceiling. He’s good at that.
He realizes, eventually, that he’s wearing something like a big t-shirt, but the back feels uncomfortably open. Maybe some sort of sheet with sleeves? It’s got little green clovers as a pattern, and he stares at it for far too long, knowing he hasn’t seen anything like it in all his time here.
The next thing he realizes is that he isn’t wearing a mask. That almost gets him crying again, but he’s overwhelmed by hopelessness before he can even start. What’s the point? Really, he doesn’t belong to himself, doesn’t exactly have a life of his own. This was the natural next step. It’s not like he had any sort of ownership over the mask.
The man beside him talks sometimes, but he’s too out of it to understand. He’s too out of it to process much, really.
He just lies there, drifting in and out of consciousness, dreading the moment the pain will truly start.
It’s late, he thinks, when he feels like his head has finally cleared a little bit—the man beside him is now a sleepy woman, and the lights in the room are dimmed, curtains drawn.
If he does this right, he might get another chance.
It takes a while to get any sort of adrenaline built up, but once he has some sort of spark going, he aims it at the restraint on his left arm. After a moment, the plastic part of the velcro snaps and his hand is free.
The woman looks up at the noise so he doesn’t move, leaving his hand in the velcro as if nothing has changed. After a moment, she returns to the book she’s reading.
The dressings on his right arm should be easy to get through—it’s the type with the cloth tape, the stuff that rips off quick. And underneath is a thin tube, which presumably has a hidden needle.
His next moves are fast. He pulls his hand free of the velcro, tears off the dressing, and yanks out the IV line, the machine suddenly beeping very loudly. He jabs it back into his arm—no needle. Where’d the needle go? Is it in his arm?
There’s got to be another needle—he checks the rolling table still beside him, but of course they haven’t left any sharp items out, they’re learning—
And then his left arm is being pulled back down and held there while another woman rushes into the room.
-
“You’re at the E. James Hospital in Empires City,” a strange woman tells him, and he doesn’t think he can be blamed if he doesn’t believe her. She waits a moment longer, then sighs and writes something on the whiteboard.
When she moves, he can see it. Unresponsive, she’s written.
“You may be feeling a little funny for a while,” she continues. “We’ve got you on some anti-anxiety medication, and it takes a little bit to adjust. Does that make sense?”
Well, it explains how numb he feels. He stares at her, trying to understand her place here.
“We’ll send in someone from psych to evaluate you later on today, but until then, Anthony is going to be here with you. Anthony, could you wave?”
A man—the same man from earlier—waves from the chair in the corner. He doesn’t say anything.
The woman says some more stuff, but he doesn’t take it in. He’s not even entirely sure that he’s conscious.
All he knows is that if he tries, he can shatter that glass canister of cotton balls on the counter. And some of the glass shards are likely to be sharp.
-
The person from psych is nice enough. She introduces herself, but he doesn’t catch the name. She asks him how he feels. She unstraps his left arm when he doesn’t answer and asks him to point at the scale of one-to-ten faces paper that she pulls out of a binder.
He points at the seven, the face that’s orange and frowning. She then shows him a poster that has emotions written on it, attached to images of kids acting out those emotions. She asks him to point to the emotions he feels right now.
This is the first moment when he starts to wonder if maybe he isn’t in the lab. Maybe the woman from earlier wasn’t lying.
The emotions on the poster aren’t complex enough to describe how he feels, but he eventually points at ‘confused’.
He’s not entirely sure what she says after that—he has vague flashes of her asking him to write something, and him not even looking at her (pets can’t write, who does she think she is?) before she leaves, writing a string of numbers on the whiteboard, then using a magnet to pin a list there.
He’s alone, if only for a moment.
She hadn’t left his arm unstrapped—she’s not stupid—but he can break the straps without issue. One splits down the middle, one just cracks enough for him to tear it the rest of the way.
He’s more steady than he was last time. And somewhere, deep down, he knows that they won’t give him the opportunity again. They want him alive.
This is his last chance.
It takes one touch for the glass canister on the counter to shatter. He picks up the largest shard, pauses as he aims it first at his wrist, then at the inside of his elbow as the bandages at his wrist deter him.
There’s an artery in the thigh, isn’t there? And his thigh is practically bare, due to the shirt-thing he’s wearing.
Wait. Is he . . . is this a hospital gown?
He stabs the glass into his thigh. It doesn’t go as deep as he would’ve liked, but it hurts like the devil, breaking through the numb state of his mind.
For a moment, he panics. That’s a lot of blood spilling out over his fingers, his grip on the glass slippery. He doesn’t want to die, does he?
But he has to get out. He can’t live in this place any longer. He can’t take it, can’t be a pet for the rest of his life, can’t kill person after person at the whim of a maniac—
He digs the glass in further, and feels his head go fuzzy before his vision blacks out and he crumples to the floor.
-
For a long time, life passes from blur to blur. He’s aware of what’s going on, he knows he is. He recognizes that the drugs are upped, that he’s a high-risk case and there’s always someone at his side. He hears when they tell him that his wounds are healing well and he’s gained a bit of weight, so they’re sending him on a seventy-two hour hold to the psych ward. They tell him he’ll be safer there.
He floats by all these blurry moments, crying one moment and unresponsive the next. The day they put him in a wheelchair and take him away is a day where he can barely feel anything, thoughts slower than molasses crawling down the side of a bottle.
When he arrives, they don’t give him much. A room. With a roommate. Some clothes.
He doesn’t really process any of it. He just lies on the bed and stares at the ceiling. He takes things that are offered to him—pills, food, water. When a voice tells him to shower, he obediently gets up and limps to the shower. When a voice tells him to go somewhere, he follows them and sits in that place until he’s led back to his room.
He’s not sure how long he’s there before things really start to register, but it starts with his roommate’s voice.
“Are you ever gonna stop being a zombie? When they told me you were a suicide risk, I thought you’d be way more exciting.”
He blinks.
“What?” he croaks, because that really is a weird thing to regain awareness to. His roommate laughs, and it’s a laugh that he recognizes as somewhat sad.
“Yeah, it’s okay, half the people here act real weird for the first couple of days on the meds. That’s what my last roommate told me, anyway. I’ve only been here for a week.”
He doesn’t remember much. But he knows now, with a strange clarity, that the horrible detached memories of that place from before are not of the lab. This may all be a dream, but he hasn’t been taken back to that place.
Taken back? When did he leave?
-
They call him TJ, for some reason. Drugged-up him had been happy to accept that, not really sure that there was another option.
But he’s TJ now, and that’s okay.
Josh (his therapist, who is actually really nice) explains to him, in as little detail as possible, what happened when it becomes clear that he’s confused.
Josh tells him that they know he’s the Canary, that he was rescued by a group of heroes and that Xornoth is dead.
Maybe it’s still the drugs working, but he doesn’t feel much more than a small sense of vindication at learning that. Not that he believes it at first, of course, but Josh explains at length the various pieces of evidence for him actually being here.
He doesn’t really believe that either, not until the next day, when he is suddenly vividly eating green beans in a common room, a dead-eyed woman eating the same beside him.
And Jimmy’s properly here, and he knows he’s here, and he wants to cry from the relief of it. Because that means it had all been real, and Xornoth’s dead, and he’s out.
He’s been rescued. He’s alive.
Maybe he does cry, a little. No one judges him.
Josh is proud of him for having that breakthrough. Unfortunately (or fortunately, according to Josh, despite their emotional exhaustion), that breakthrough is just the first in a line of many.
It feels wrong to talk. He hasn’t willingly spoken in close to a year, and it’s definitely taking some getting used to—but it’s really the easiest of his issues. He still thinks of himself as a pet, he still expects punishment at the slightest provocation, he struggles to remember to walk instead of crawl and sit on chairs—and each of those come with a plethora of their own issues, such as the hour he spent sitting at the feet of a nurse, the closest figure of authority he could find.
He knows he locked away a part of himself, compartmentalized his brain until he could truly be subservient for his master. But reintegration is difficult, and scary, and Josh is his only guide.
“I know I’m in here,” he tells Josh one day, his quiet, raspy voice not an adequate instrument for conveying just how frustrated he feels. He picks a bit at his sweatpants, not quite daring to look Josh in the eye. “I can remember. I know I’m different. Supposed to be different.”
“That’s a very normal feeling for those who have been under the influence of a telepath for a long time,” Josh says gently, and Jimmy just . . . doesn’t bring up that he wasn’t. He knows it’s lying, and he knows it’s wrong, but someone had given him that cover story and it somehow kept him from going to jail, so he’s keeping it.
“Is there anything I can do for you right now?” asks Josh not ten minutes later, when it becomes clear that Jimmy isn’t going to say anything else.
And there is something he wants, actually. The only way to find out is by asking, and he knows logically that Josh isn’t going to hurt him for such a request, but he can’t shake the fear.
“Long sleeves?” he whispers eventually, and he doesn’t miss the way Josh’s eyes fall to the word scarred on his left arm.
“We can do that,” Josh says. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I actually saw a nice hoodie the other day while out shopping, so I can pick that up on my way home tonight. They’ll take out the drawstring, if that’s all good. Or do you want, like, a long-sleeved shirt?”
“Hoodie,” Jimmy says, not wanting to cause more of an inconvenience.
The next day, he’s got a grey hoodie, a little large (but everything hangs loose on him) and without drawstrings.
He wears it every day.
-
Jimmy knows he’s getting better, even if it’s frustratingly slow. Josh helps him map out his progress one day, reminding him that he went from nearly vegetative to actually asking for what he wants.
Sure, he doesn’t really eat the way they want him to (he’s always got one of those terribly chalky protein shakes in hand now), but he’s trying. He wants to eat more, and he always tries to get at least a bite down at every meal (they’re too frequent, too regular, he never gets to eat that much there must be a catch).
And of course, all of his other problems that he hates to get into. Problems that have him changing bandages around his wrists and stomach and thigh. Problems that leave him crying on the floor at random times, mourning pieces of himself that he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get back.
But, like Josh says, he’s getting better. He’s really starting to think for himself again.
Until it all seems to reverse.
One day, he’s fine. He talks about a happy memory (as few as they are) with Josh. He’s brave enough for the first time to actually venture out into the common room, play a game of Battleship with his roommate Peter. He actually considers joining the group therapy session when it rolls around. He eats half his meal at dinner that night. He takes his evening pills without complaint and sleeps through some of the nightly checks.
The next day, everything is wrong.
The next day, Jimmy collapses on his cell—bedroom—on the floor of the place where he sleeps, certain that there are people surrounding him and grabbing at his clothes and pulling on his hair and he thought he was safe, they told him he was safe—
And then he’s back, Peter shaking him and calling for help.
It keeps happening after that. He can’t go more than an hour or so without believing he’s back there, without being strapped to a table or kicked by a heavy boot or having knives thrown at him. Each time he comes back to reality, he’s more exhausted and scared than before.
Josh calls them flashbacks, and as soon as Jimmy hears the word he knows it’s right. He has one during therapy (he’s so hungry, he was left here for hours with no one and nothing and it’s a test, he knows it’s a test), and when he comes to, he’s laid out on the couch with Josh speaking quiet words of reassurance.
“Sorry,” he mutters roughly, and Josh just shrugs and gives him a list of grounding activities, and breathing exercises for homework (not that he has a home to take it to).
It doesn’t work, though. It should work, and it doesn’t, because half the people here dress like they’re from the lab. The whole place smells like a hospital, sterile and awful. He’s alone—Peter had gone home that day. It’s just him, in a white room, and he’s fine by himself, he’s always been by himself, but he can’t help but think that maybe, if his caretakers had put a bit of thought into it, they wouldn’t have left him on his own. Not that he’s going to try again—he wants to be here, to some extent, he thinks—but he’s been alone for so very long and he can’t control what he does while in a flashback.
He tells that to Josh—Peter had apparently been here for a longer period of time than expected, struggling to handle an eating disorder, but had finally been deemed well enough to return to his life (with constant check-ins and therapy appointments). And while that was  all good for him, there don’t seem to be any other viable roommates at the moment—those safe to share already have roommates, but Josh assures him that he’s first on the list for either a new admittance or a leftover patient when their roommate leaves.
Jimmy has another flashback that session, one of a noose around his throat that he is being forced to tighten. He doesn’t know where he is afterwards, or what’s going on, and a smiling man with dark hair who smells funny leads him to a bed and gives him a pill to swallow. Jimmy doesn’t care if it’s going to kill him. He swallows it, and falls asleep shortly after.
The days go on like that. Jimmy wakes up, struggles through a day lived half in the past, at some point panics badly enough that he has to be drugged to sleep, and so on. His eating habits slowly go downhill, only managing half of the daily protein shake that he’d always pushed to finish before.
And he’s really, genuinely trying—on days when he can find his voice, he talks in therapy. He starts attending group therapy, even if he only listens. He sits in the common room and watches TV with other patients as often as he can drag himself there. He tries to eat every meal, tries to talk to other people, tries to get better.
It’s those vile flashbacks throwing a wrench in everything, of course. One day during therapy, Josh theorizes that the flashbacks are so frequent and so awful due to a constant trigger, and when Jimmy wryly points out that he has a lot of trauma around medical situations, Josh grimaces and tells him to keep a trigger journal.
Which only serves to prove what Jimmy had suggested. His most common trigger is the smell of rubbing alcohol or hand sanitizer, as far as he can tell. And right after that is the sound of someone snapping on a pair of rubber gloves. Things aren’t looking all that hopeful until one day in therapy, when Josh mentions a very familiar name.
Jimmy’s drawing during the conversation, little squiggles and spirals around various words—emotions, mostly. It’s something that Josh had introduced fairly early on, a place for him to identify his emotions without getting too far in his head trying to think about them. Here, he can just write them down and move on with the knowledge that what Josh just said makes him feel anxious, or sad, or angry. And then, Josh can ask why that statement made him angry, and it’s easier to explain with a marker doodling in his hand.
“Now, TJ, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but Major made arrangements for you to be here.”
That draws Jimmy up short. His marker point bleeds into the paper as he looks up, forces himself to speak. “Um—but, the hospital—with the, uh, the hold—”
“Right, but Major had been in brief contact with them—along with some other important people, I’m sure—to make sure you got the help you needed. He offered to take care of any bills, I think.”
Jimmy bites his lip, jots down a quick ‘anxious’.
“He wanted to make it clear that you don’t owe him anything,” Josh says, clearly noticing what Jimmy’s written. “And I know that for a fact—I talked with him yesterday. I asked if he would meet with you, and he said yes.”
And if that doesn’t send his blood pressure through the roof.
What on earth does Major want with him now? To make sure he’s mentally okay before sending him to prison?
Not that that’s turning out very well for him so far.
“I think meeting with Major might help you get a proper goal,” Josh hints, and Jimmy frowns. This whole time, Josh has been on him about getting a goal. Doesn’t he realize that Jimmy hadn’t expected to survive? Doesn’t he realize that Jimmy was stuck with no future but the one that Xornoth had planned for him, that he’d been willing to kill himself to escape it and it’s a little difficult to regain his footing after that?
“It’s up to you, but I think talking with Major will help a lot. I think he’ll be able to open up some opportunities for you.”
Well. It’s not like he has much else to do, does he?
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