#(he has yet to get any sort of large [outward] reaction out of me though he has tried)(dont think i ended up posting about it but the

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

universe no longer on its homophobic arc, i finally got to be gay with my friends again today

[dracowars]

forbidden | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,6k

summary: where y/n and draco have to endure a very special type of detention

a/n: welcome to my first ever one shot. i hope you enjoy it! please let me know if there are any mistakes.

warnings: none

universe: harry potter

Honestly you weren't really surprised that Professor Snape gave Draco, Harry and Ron detention for nearly blowing up the whole potions classroom when fighting over the ground unicorn horn, an important ingredient for The Antidote to Common Poisons.

But what you weren't expecting was that Snape gave you detention as well, just because you sat in the center of it. Any attempt to convince him otherwise was useless.

And now here you were, in front of Hagrid's hut, the moon shining bright, the only light coming from the hut and your dim lanterns. You'd rather be in any other place you can think of. Everywhere except here. The sooner it ends, the better.

Yet the three idiots next to you still yelled at each other for what already feels like hours. Not even Filch nor Mrs Norris, who escorted you here after curfew, could bear their stupidity any longer, so Mr Filch knocks against Hagrid's door and runs off with a malicious giggle, but not before wishing y'all good luck, of course. You, for your part, could really need it.

"Can't believe I have to spend detention with you again, Potter", Draco spat, his voice full of disgust. The whole day he'd told you about how Harry and him already had detention in their first year at Hogwarts. That time they were lead into the Forbidden Forest and since you are now at Hagrid's hut in the middle of the night, you can already imagine exactly what your detention consists of this time.

Goosebumps spread all over your skin when you only think of the Dark Forest. Yes, you were sorted into Slytherin but that doesn't mean that you can't be afraid. You were, in fact, scared of many things but going into the Forbidden Forest was definetely very high on that list.

Draco noticed your change of behavior while listening to his story of his 11 year old brave self and suddenly had fun frightening you. Not that you were already scared enough of only the thought to go into that damned forest.

Even though he promised to protect you all the way, you were sure that when they were in first year Draco was the first to run and leave the others for death. But he would never admit that and maybe, just maybe, he actually grew up a little bit since then.

You've actually known him since you can remember. Your families, both pureblood, are very close, they even went to Hogwarts together in their time, which let to you and Draco being childhood friends. So when you went to Hogwarts yourself, you were happy to have your best friend by your side and when you got sorted into the same house, Slytherin, you couldn't have been any happier.

Eventually these long years of friendship turned into something more in your fourth year. (Maybe already earlier, you weren't quite sure.) Neither of you wanted to admit it at first but you were meant to be. Anyone could see it from a far. Everyone shipped you since first year and now, in sixth year, you are a happy couple for nearly three years with just a few minor disagreements here and there.

"Ah. The usual suspects", Hagrid mumbles as soon as he spots you after opening the heavy door, Fang, his over-sized Boarhound dog, directly running in Harry's direction. "I don't know why I thought it would be someone else. Feels just like yesterday that we went into the Forbidden Forest, right?"

Hagrid's mention of the Forbidden Forest makes shivers run down your spine right away. This reaction of your body didn't go unnoticed though and you feel the warmth of Draco's body as he scoots closer to you.

Despite Draco's cold demeanor outward, he has a very pleasent warm body temperature. You found out about this feature when you started becoming 'more than just friends' over the years. And now it is hard to imagine life without this warmth.

"I thought getting into sixth year would finally safe us these kind of detentions", Ron whines which Hagrid only response to with a laugh. "No matter what year you are in, Ron, there is nothing more beautiful like an adventurous walk through the forest in the middle of the night. Trust me", Hagrid smiles proudly. "What do we have to do this time?", Harry asks, also not very fond of the idea to go into that forest again.

Even though you were friends with Draco for so long, you actually liked the golden trio. You don't have much to do with them, only a few courses together, but you don't hate them at all. In your opinion they are actually very kind, which Draco, obviously, doesn't approve of.

"Not much, in fact. A creature was hurt last night and I really don't know which one it is. All we have to do is to find the injured creature", Hagrid explains while taking a huge crossbow, leading you right to the entrance of the forest. "Not very challenging, is it?"

"But you do know that there are werwolves in there, don't you? Besides all the other.. dangerous animals that thirst for our blood", Ron complains, while Draco seems to have laid eyes on the crossbow.

"What weapon do we get to defend ourselves?", he interupts Ron's expressed thoughts and points to the weapon, which Hagrid answers to with a sigh.

"You're a wizard. I don't think you need any other weapon than your wand, Malfoy", Hagrid scoffs and goes past him. "Now. Since I'm able to learn from my mistakes, not like others..", he mumbles the last part. "Harry and Ron, you will go this way. Draco and Y/N take the other direction. Please make sure to not hurt anyone or anything."

"A-Anything?", is the last word you hear Ron mumble as you started walking in the different direction. Or more like Draco pulling you behind him into the Dark Forest.

You tighten your black cloak around yourself as you shiver. The Forbidden Forest seems to be even scarier in the night. Even scarier than you expected it to be in general. The only sounds you can hear are your footsteps on the mud, caused by the rainy weather these days, and here and there something that sounds like a very aggressive raven.

"Snape should have just deducted our houses points and not let us go into this dumb forest again", Draco mumbles in front of you while leading the way, not really knowing where to search either. The dim warm light of the lantern he holds up makes his hair shine bright and is the only thing that makes you feel at ease a little bit. Something familiar.

A sudden crack behind you, sounding like a branch that has been stepped on, makes you stop in your tracks abruptly. "What was that, Draco?", you ask, the fear in your shaking voice clearly audible.

"Don't worry about it, love. I'm sure it was just a stupid animal. Let's go on", your boyfriend responds and takes your cold hand in his again.

As you kept going through the tall trees for a few minutes you realize that you've gotten very far into the Forbidden Forest already. All you can see now are trees and not even the moon shines through the dense leaves over your heads anymore. The thick layer of fog around you doesn't make the weird feeling in your stomach better either.

Draco keeps strolling around, searching for any evidence for an injured creature and you turn around, still feeling anxious of someone - or something - following you two.

Your heart stops as the lantern, that Draco held up seconds ago, falls to the ground with a loud crash. Your whole vision goes black and darkness surrounds you. A few bats, startled by the noise, fly away.

"Draco?!", you shout and don't dare to move a single muscle. Your breath is so slow, you don't even know if you're still breathing at all. Another sound is heard from your right and you turn around, only to face more darkness.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! This is not funny at all! Do you hear me?!", you yell again while getting your wand out of your pocket. Pointing it forward, you quietly say: "Lumos."

As soon as the light erupts from the tip of your wand, blinding you for a brief moment, a white, light-lit face appears right in front of you.

"BOO!", the face shouts directly at you.

You let out a scream, stumble back a few steps in shock and rest your hand against your fast beating heart. The next thing you hear are the echoing laughters of your boyfriend.

"You should've seen your face!", Draco laughs and throws his head back. You swallow heavily and take a few moments to calm yourself down, a tear on the edge of falling. "I hate you so much!", you yell at him and hit his shoulder a few times as anger replaces your fear. "You know exactly how scared I am, dumbass!"

"I could not not take this opportunity, love", he giggles, making the blood in your veins boil. But before you can scold him any further, he stops laughing all of a sudden and his suddenly widend eyes are locked on a point directly behind you. "Y/N.. Don't turn around, okay? Don't move", he whispers and points behind you with a slight head movement.

"I'm not that pathetic, Draco. I'm not gonna fall for that again", you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest while turning around. As soon as you did, it feels like all life left your body at once.

Two round yellow eyes, emerging from the sinister undergrowth, are directly fixed on you. A small cone of moonlight falls through the rustling leaves as a slight breeze passes and the creature in front of you turns out to be a werewolf.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as the wild creature comes closer, snarling. "RUN, Y/N!", Draco's loud shout makes you flinch and he grabs your hand, knowing that it is too late to not make any noise, pulling you closely behind him. You nearly stumble over all the sticking out, large roots on the ground but the adrenaline that rushes through your body makes you run as fast as you can.

"Stupefy!", Draco casts the Stunning Spell and shoots it at the creature while running. A jet of red light emerges from his wand but misses the werewolf by a few centimeters. It is now catching up with you even faster than before. "Damn it!", Draco curses.

Your legs already start hurting from how fast you were running. You see a dim light between the trees in front of you and a glimmer of hope runs through you. As you get closer by every second you realize that it's not Hagrid, as you hoped, but none other than Ron and Harry. The confusion is clearly written on their faces.

"RUN!", you tell them, grabbing their hands as you pass them to pull both of them with you. It doesn't take them long to realize what you were running away from.

"Bloody hell!", Ron whimpers beside you and lets the lantern fall to the ground. By now the four of you lost every sense of direction and the only thing that keeps you from giving up is to not get torn into pieces.

Again you take a look back over your shoulder to see how close the wolf has come and in this exact moment of unwariness, you trip over and fall to the ground with a cry. Immediately you try to straighten up but a sharp pain runs through your body and leaves you whimpering in pain.

"Stupefy!", Harry now attacks the beast and actually hits it this time. The wolf falls back a few meters through the air and lands on the ground with a thump, motionless.

"Y/N! Stand up, come on!", Draco helps you up and notices your pained expression. From that moment on your fear is reflected in his eyes. He bends down and frantically picks you up in his arms. Unfortunately, the werewolf has recovered from the spell quickly and is running towards you again, growling and barking dangerously.

But before you can escape this time, another creature that you can't really make out because of the darkness at first, suddenly throws itself on the wolf, fighting a bitter fight with it. You can only stand there and watch in shock.

"Buckbeak!", you can hear Hagrid's voice from the distance and the majestic hippogriff lets go of the much smaller animal, which is now also winzing in pain and then finally leaves you alone.

"What did you do?! How did this happen?", Hagrid scolds you as soon as he arrives, his eyes fixed on Draco immediately. You bite your lower lip to hold back tears as you let yourself sink down from Draco's arms and onto the ground with his help.

"The werewolf attacked us out of nowhere", you explain with a quiet voice and touch your ankle, regretting it right away as you hiss in pain. "It was noone's fault, Hagrid."

"This is exactly the reason why students shouldn't go into the Forbidden Forest, you-", Draco aggressivly starts but you pull on his sleeve, making him look at you. His facial expression softens at your action.

Buckbeak stands close behind Hagrid and observes the situation curiously. Hagrid sighs loudly, his breath becoming visible in the cold air of the night, and pets Buckbeak gently.

"Fine. Let's get you out of here first and then we will look at the damage", Hagrid suggests and Draco and Harry help you stand up again. "I c-can't walk", you hiss after placing your injured foot on the ground, withdrawing it straight away.

"Come here, Y/N. Buckbeak will help", Hagrid waves you over to him and before any second thoughts could cross your mind, you were already seated on the hippogriff's back. While you're still busy with getting comfortable on the creature you unexpectedly feel a pair of hands sneak around your waist closly from behind. Draco had jumped onto Buckbeak as well, with Hagrid's permission of course, and whispers an apology in your ear.

Finally you are able to relax a little while you feel Draco's chest against your back. A cozy warmth emanates from him that has always made you feel at ease and the cold air surrounding you makes it even more comfortable.

With a whistle from Hagrid Buckbeak sets itself in motion and leads you out of the forest, directly back to Hagrid's hut. You had completely lost every sense of time while you were in there. While to you it seems like several hours have passed, it was probably just one.

Draco jumps off in front of the hut and helps you get down, his grip very strong on your hip. You gently stroke over the soft head of the hippogriff and smile weakly at it.

Draco doesn't waste any time and takes you to the warm hut, where he seats you down on one of the chairs and carefully places your leg on his thigh. While watching your boyfriend take care of you so caringly and gently - a side not everyone knows of him - you don't even notice that a few tears finally found their way over your cheeks, which you were able to hold back before. Everything that happened tonight hits you all at once in this moment.

Eventually, Draco's gaze meets yours and he immediately pulls you into a warm, firm and loving hug. "I am so so sorry, love. I shouldn't have scared you. If I hadn't been this stupid, then we wouldn-", he stumbles over his words but you place your index finger on his lips softly. "I'm okay, Draco", you smile at him, even though your ankle doesn't feel anywhere near okay.

"I told Madam Pomfrey what happened and she will be able to heal it quickly, and even though she wasn't very happy that I asked for her help at this hour, she would like to see you at the Hospital Wing", Hagrid tells you as he comes back into his hut, Ron and Harry curiously looking past Hagrid and at you. The guilt is clearly written on Hagrid's face.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help but somehow I just couldn't come up with the right spell!", Ron rants while he and Harry approach you. "How about we help you get into that hospital wing?", Harry offers their help with a smile, which you gladly agree to. Draco on the other hand throws a disapproving look at him, his protective boyfriend instincts very active after what happened today.

Still, he lets Harry help him get you out. Your arms are each wrapped around their shoulders so that you can at least hobble and not have to be carried.

"I will talk to Professor Dumbledore about getting rid of these kind of detentions", Hagrid utters, looking to the ground in shame. Buckbeak senses Hagrid's sadness and lays his head on his arm. Releasing your arm from Draco purposely to tap Hagrid's shoulder soothingly, Draco holds you tightly at your waist in an instant, still afraid that you could lose balance any second and fall again.

"Please don't worry, Hagrid. It's not your fault", you try to cheer him up. "Thank you and also you, Buckbeak." At the mention of his name, Buckbeak turns to you and it almost looks like he actually understood what you said, lowering his head a little as if he would bow.

"I hate to admit it but I guess I have to thank that.. chicken of yours as well, Hagrid", Draco clears his throat. "Thank you for rescuing us."

You know exactly how difficult it is for Draco to thank someone. He rarely does, only because he never really learned how. However, the few times he actually does, you can't help but feel warmer inside. This is what distinguishs him from the evil guys.

With these last words and a nod from Hagrid's side, Draco leads the way into the building and they help you to the first floor, Ron opening the doors for you. You arrive at the Hospital Wing, where Harry and Ron seperate from you and go back to their common room.

Madam Pomfrey treats your sprained ankle and only half an hour later you are dismissed from the Hospital Wing. It feels like you've never hurt yourself in the first place, but Madam Pomfrey still wants you to rest and take care of yourself. Your boyfriend clearly agreed to that and insisted on carrying you back to the Slytherin common room, where you arrived only seconds ago.

It is already so late in the night that not a single soul is in the faint green room, everyone fast asleep for hours in their comfortable beds. You feel exhausted after this eventful night and tiredness is slowly overcoming you.

"Where do you think you are going?", Draco's determining voice asks you with a hint of reproach when you were just about to make your way to the girls' dormitories. "To sleep?", you deadpenned.

"You won't go anywhere except my prefect room. Oh, and you will most certainly not go", he commands and before you know it, you're in his strong arms again and on the way to his room. If the way wasn't so short though, you could have fallen asleep right there in his arms, your cheek on his shoulder and one hand against his warm chest.

Despite telling him that you are fine for the tenth time now, he still insists on taking care of you. He borrows you your favorite sweater of his - although you don't quite understand how it found its way back into his closet because the last time you checked it has been in your room - and softly puts you to bed under the thick dark green covers out of silk.

What you don't know, however, is how much he actually blames himself for what happend tonight. He feels guilty because it should have hit him and not you. After all, he accidentally lured the werewolf into your direction by frightening you. He knew you were scared, you told him before. Nevertheless he thought it was funny to scare you. And now you got hurt because of him.

He climbs in beside you and pulls you closely to him, your arm wrapped over his waist and your head on his chest. He gently runs his fingertips over your delicate skin and through your hair. You feel his steady heartbeat beneath you, softly inhale his scent and close your eyes.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I'm sorry for everything", Draco whispers barely audible and places a kiss on your forehead, then another one on your temple. "I love you too, Draco", you absently smile and put your hand on his jaw, lift your head slightly and then give him a kiss on his chapped lips. "And please stop apologizing, alright? It was not your fault."

You can clearly see that he thinks about whether or not to reply but you beat him to it. "Listen. I don't blame you at all. It was a misfortune, nothing more and nothing less. All I need is your company right now. I need you by my side, Draco. Always", you explain and give him a genuine smile in hopes to make him feel better and to finally stop blaming himself.

He replies with an equally genuine smile and gives you one last kiss before he pulls you even closer, as if he's scared of losing you. Still, after your kind words, he actually feels better now and he smiles to himself when noticing your quiet snoring.

And that night Draco definetely made sure you wouldn't have any nightmares at all.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 4]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“there’ll be a next time...right?“

Corpse and Cora have found a nice secluded picnic table outside the restaurant, out in the sun rays’ path enough for the warmth of the day to be caressing their skin while simultaneously being a safe distance away from the other people enjoying their lunch. Their meal has just arrived, bringing a large grin to Cora’s face.

“So?” She asks as she chews the bite she took without waiting even thirty seconds. Her feet are on the bench, legs crossed, elbows rested on her knees as she chomps down, happily perched in front of him.

Corpse is enraptured by her. He’s staring a little, desperately trying to keep it subtle, hands still holding the small bag of food as he peers at her, a hood over his dark curls. Even in this quiet little part of town, he still doesn’t feel safe showing his whole face - no mask, no eyepatch, no privacy and sense of security. But as his eyes take in his lunch partner, her calm aura and leisure attitude, he can’t help but admit that his heart quickens a little. The girl moves with the grace of someone not afraid to kick ass and he is simply awestruck by her beauty and outward powerful aura. He’s never before been so captivated by a person - someone so different and so similar to him simultaneously.

Swallowing nervously, he reminds himself that she has taken on the role of his checkpoint, something like a friend, a hand to hold if he starts feeling anxious. Even if it’s just for today, he appreciates it wholeheartedly. It’s more than he’s ever been offered by others. That type of comfort is something he hasn’t felt in a long time. Surprising himself when his hand reaches out to touch her free one, he’s surprised yet again when he finds the touch so familiar and welcoming, so natural.  Despite it being just a brief movement, his knuckles softly brushing against her wrist before withdrawing and returning his focus to his meal, it is so meaningful and soothing, he’s afraid he might get used to it. Addicted to it. 

Half expecting a comment or a look, he is taken aback when she doesn’t give any sort of reaction. No movement, no expression change, just curiously watching him while she eats, waiting for his response to her previous dubious question.

 “So?” He rumbles softly, fishing out his lunch from the confines of the little paper bag. He isn’t sure what type of answer he should be expecting but he’s sure he won’t be disappointed regardless.

“Tell me about yourself! You’re not all rumbles, fear and BONES, right? You’ve gotta have a personality under that black hoodie.” She says enthusiastically, her eyes glimmering as though she’ll dig the answers out of him with her gaze alone. He’s not sure whether he’d prefer that or not. He doesn’t like talking about himself but he has an even stronger distaste for the idea of her seeing some information he’d rather keep hidden. Good thing she doesn’t seem to be capable of telepathy, but even that wouldn’t be too odd for her.

His cheeks flush faintly and he looks down for a moment to take the first bite of his food, buying himself some time to think and formulate a proper sentence. He racks his brain, looking for what would be the most vague yet satisfactory answer. 

What am I? I mean, all she stated is true, I definitely am all that...but I have a hard time coming up with what else I am? What else makes me me?  Youtube? Anxiety? Suicidal ideations hidden underneath liquor?

“I um...dropped out of school at, like, thirteen.” He finally speaks, mumbling around the small bite he worked on swallowing. 

Cora’s eyes widen and her brows shoot up. Now he is nervous, his anxiety slowly starting to creep in as he’s worrying if he has said something wrong. Or something that she could be disgusted by. 

Who would want to talk to some grown ass man who couldn’t even make it to highschool? How fucking sad is that? She has all right to judge me for it. 

However, unlike everybody else in his life who’s given him a frown of pity while internally thinking of how absolutely fucked up he had to be to drop out so young, Cora spared him from the pitiful glance he has grown to hate so much. Instead, he sees something alike amazement on her face as she sips her drink before saying:

“Damn dude, that’s intense. I mean, it sucks cause I can’t imagine you had a normal childhood if you’re bailing from school that young but, nowadays, who among us actually had a real childhood? Very few, I’d say.” She grins, putting down the soda can, her eyes leaving his for only the briefest of moments instead of the familiar awkward eye-contact avoidance he’d face when this topic would be nudged during a conversation. Still, the relief and skepticism in Corpse can never end their war so easily - there’s still that shred of doubt that she’s just good at hiding her pity or judgement. Nevertheless, she continues, “You’re doing well for yourself, you’re in an ok place right now, right? Isn’t that what matters?.” She concludes, touching his fingers as a form of yet another subtle reassurance. 

He looks down and finds himself ever so carefully curling one of his fingers around hers, just briefly before he draws back fearfully. “Yeah...guess having an apartment in a shitty part of town, and a car that seems to attract criminals could be considered ‘doing okay’.” He smiles faintly under his hood and she laughs, that bubbly little noise that he is slowly realizing he wants to hear more of. 

“You got a car, that’s more than I have.” Cora pokes her tongue out with a little growl before leaning down to take another bite of her lunch. “So, you like music and aren’t a narc. What else you got up your sleeve?”

Corpse smiles a bit and takes a sip of his drink before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I like video games too.” 

That seems innocent enough, right? Everyone likes video games...or people tend to be okay with them, at least. Video games are fun.

Another bright, sun-like smile. “Yeah? Well in that case I’ll have to kick your ass in Mario Kart some time.” She threatens playfully. 

So she might want to hang out, he thinks to himself, the thought causing his heart to do a little flip and he smiles an almost shy and timid smirk. “Challenge accepted.”

“What do you do for work?”

That question catches him off-guard, causing his eyes to widen a bit. He doesn’t know if it would be better to lie or just tell the truth. He narrates stories on the internet and makes and puts out music people have constantly been telling him wouldn’t be enjoyed. He doesn’t see how that would leave a bad taste in her mouth exactly but because of his inability to stop himself from overthinking he doesn’t want to run the risk of repulsing her. Then again, he doesn’t want to lie either, he’s been so honest with her thus far, why would he derail now and because of such a simple question. That’s why he chooses to answer truthfully but keep his answer relatively vague: “I do online work and make music I haven’t released yet. I honestly dunno if I ever will.” That last part felt like a harsh hit of reality coming on too suddenly, forcing him to look away from her to gather his composure and put it back together.

“I bet it’s good. You’ll have to let me hear it when you get something done. I’ve got a clearly refined taste in music, but I bet you already figured that out.” She exaggerates a wink, reaching over to wiggle the straw in her drink. 

Feeling a bit less tense now, he clears his throat and picks up the conversation once again. “What about you? You keep asking me all these questions, but all I know about you is that you’re a klepto with no car.” 

That signature bright and bubbly laughter leaves Cora’s chest, sending Corpse a millisecond away from swooning over her completely. “I’m actually a starving artist. I’m a pet photographer and I'm going back to school for advertising graphic design. When I’m not off goofing around with people getting their dogs birthday documented, I’m working at ye good ol’ Starbucks, serving all the...” Her voice lifts to a higher pitch and is now coming more from the back of her throat as she takes on the most preppy tone she could muster, “Beckys their venti mocha caramel frappuccino with TWO extra pumps of caramel, but with SOY because they’re all on a diet. Funny how that works, no? All those women with the exact same order and exact same attributes - I almost laugh whenever one of them walks in. You can smell them from a block away.” 

Corpse chokes out a laugh as he covers his mouth, hiding his half chewed bite from view. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. Then again,  he can’t help but acknowledge the warmth that has spread across his cheeks at how she giggles along with him. “And to be fair,” Cora quickly interrupts herself, “I am not a klepto, I just really liked the belt I found and thought forty five dollars was a rip off.” She smirks, finding herself absentmindedly looping her pinky with his. Corpse doesn’t look down, doesn’t comment, doesn’t want her to know he noticed, because maybe she’d put an end to their so small yet so meaningful contact. Instead, he smiles a little and swallows the last bite of his lunch, his heart beating rapidly in his chest and he briefly entertains the idea that he maybe wasn’t the only one awestruck. 

Anyhow, that thought gets pushed down real quick when he considers how absolutely out of his league she is, and how...well, how he’s in absolutely no league whatsoever. The world has done plenty to prove that to him real fast. Corpse sees himself as a nobody; he believes he doesn’t matter and everybody likes to remind him of it. But, as Cora’s pinky curls a little and one of her thumbs brushes against the arch of his wrist, all that bitter venom in his cold soul starts to slowly ease up, loosening its typically firm hold of his mind. Maybe, just maybe, one day, he would matter to someone. Someday.

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

[jadethest0ne]

When the Moon meets the Morning, Chapter 5 - Warmth against the Chill

Summary:  Raphael is going on missions with Captain Jupiter as he always does when he meets an orange-wearing turtle yokai who feels oddly familiar.

Word Count: 1519

Ratings/Warnings: General Audiences; some minor harrowing moments, but mostly fluff, emotional overload, emotional manipulation, self-deprecation

Notes: Some emotional overload and somewhat harrowing moments in this chapter. This chapter was the last one I wrote/drafted out of all of them, but I’m happy with how it turned out. Includes a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to Digg. Big thanks to @undercoverwizardninjaturtle, @fraymotiif, and @5weekdays for helping me workshop this.

Read on AO3 For the RotTMNT Fantasy AU

———-

They are at the last stop on their trek. Good thing, too because the snow was now thick on the ground and piling heavy on the mountaintops surrounding them. The passageways between the mountains would soon become impassable. A majority of Mikey's packages for this town included supplies to help them through the winter. As they are handing off the last set of deliveries to an elderly couple who owned the general store - a stone building at the center of town - Red Fox's ear twitches and she looks out to the middle distance as if listening for something. Her nose quivers, causing the pink scar above it to crinkle, as she explores the scents in the air.

Raph knows this stance as a signal that something was coming.

"What is it?” Raph asks Red Fox seriously.

Red Fox opens up her mouth to say something, but before she could, a rumbling crack from above echoes through the village. They look up at the snow-capped peak that the town is primarily leaning on to see a wave of snow tumbling down at them.

An avalanche.

Red Fox leaps into action, magically extending her tail to gently wrap around the elderly couple and their packages, and pulls them under the awning of the roof of the sturdy general store. The town must be used to these sorts of things because an emergency beacon starts flashing and many people immediately start scrambling to safety. There are some stragglers though.

"Raph!" Red Fox yells and signals to the remaining villagers who are still out in the open. Raph understands and he runs out to bring the rest to safety. He scoops up a young couple of humans in his strong arms and puts up his red projections around them. The snow is over them now like a great wave and Raph isn't sure if his giant form will hold. However, he doesn't have to worry, when an almost equally large wave of fire clashes with the snow, melting it instantly.

He looks over to see Mikey with his arms extended sending powerful gusts of flames melting the snow as it falls from the mountain. He strains as still more pours down. He gives a signal to Infinity, who has a smaller yokai passenger onboard that Mikey must've rescued, and the phoenix speeds towards Raph. Mikey nods to Raph and both the large snapper and Infinity rush their passengers to safety. Once he knows that they are secure in the stone building with the avalanche passing over the sloped roof, Raph turns around again to try to help anyone else in need of rescue.

A particularly large chunk of snow and ice is about to crash on a trio of young, brown-furred yokai women. Raph puts more energy into his projected fist and punches the chunk of ice away. Raph starts to herd them over to the store.

"Wooooaaaah!" One of the yokai says, looking up at Raph in amazement, "Aren't you that Blood Moon Hunter...?" She looks like maybe a prairie dog?

“Er, well actually..." Raph is about to say, but is interrupted by a second woman, stouter than the first.

"I thought the tales were about a Red Angel," she says.

The third woman, largest of the three, offers a series of grunts in response, but the others seem to understand what she is saying.

"You're right, Honey Badger," says the second one, the stories did say he was some sort of bounty hunter.

Raph allows himself a small smile in the chaos. It seems like Mikey's stories are spreading, even if not exactly in the way as intended. Wait. Where was Mikey? He scans the surroundings barely paying attention to the women as they continue to chatter excitedly.

"Yeah and look at his eyes! They're like a blood moon!"

"We should totally make a song about him!"

As the third woman grunts in affirmation, Raph sees what he is looking for.

A section of snow in the distance seems to explode outward. Protective flames wrap around Mikey as a young child huddles beneath him. Mikey is holding back the wave of snow and ice with his fire. He gestures to the child to move. The two of them run together, Mikey providing a shield between them, melting any snow that comes in contact with them. He looks like he is straining hard against the mountain’s onslaught causing worry to twist around Raph’s gut. Maybe he's using his powers too much. Overextending one's magic can be really dangerous. One of Mikey's hands reaches up to cup his head as if trying to block out sound.

That's when Raph thinks of another problem Mikey must be having. So many people in the middle of a natural disaster - Mikey would be feeling all of the emotions that come from that sort of situation from all of them. And at the same time that he is taxing his fire magic! That's not a good combination.

Mikey and the child come closer, but the sigh of relief that Raph is about to let out gets caught in his throat as Mikey trips. In his kneeling position he extends a hand outward so the flames continue to create a pathway allowing the child to get to safety, but a particularly large spurt of snow crackles its way toward the young turtle. With it comes a large pine tree that must've got caught in the flow headed straight for him.

Raph moves before he can think. The magical red projection he creates grows larger and larger, crashing through the falling snow, completely unimpeded by the force. In a few giant leaps he is upon Mikey and throws his form over the orange clad turtle. He brings Mikey into the projection’s form so he is able to wrap his real arms around Mikey. He knows the worst of the snow along with the tree is still coming so he pushes all the power he can muster into one of the back spikes on his projection. The spike extends like a javelin and meets the tree mid-fall. A crack spreads lengthwise through the trunk of the tree and splits it in half. The two halves along with the snow spread around the large spike as if it were cutting through the avalanche itself.

As suddenly as the avalanche had come, it stops. The mountain stops rumbling so dangerously, and the snow ends it's onslaught of the village. Beneath Raph, curled in his arms is Mikey, shaking like a leaf with tears pouring down his cheeks. His hands are gripping the sides of his head as if to try to block out the world.

"Hey... Mikey..," Raph begins in a soft voice. "The avalanche is over now, you're safe!"

Mikey shakes his head violently, and continues to tremble and cry, letting out stuttering whimpers.

Raph is hit with a sudden sense of deja vu. Didn't he experience this before? Some flashes of a memory come back to him. Woods curling around Mikey. The voices of so many people. So many emotions rushing over him, more powerful than any avalanche. And Raph's shield.

Raph understands what he can do. He takes a deep breath, lowering his projected form, but putting up a protective shield spell around them. He tries to mimic the kind of spell that he was somehow able to create in his dream. The shield doesn't extend very far, but very little sound from the outside comes in.

Mikey's eyes snap open. Tears continue to pour from them, but he slowly lowers his hands from his head and shakily looks up at Raph.

"Hey buddy," Raph says with a soft smile. "It's all right. I'm here. You're safe."

Mikey blinks. Once. Twice. Something like a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "R-raph?"

"Yeah, it's me. No one else." Based on Mikey's reactions he thinks his shield is doing its job of blocking out all of the distressing emotions from outside.

Mikey's smile wobbles as he looks up gratefully at Raph. Large tears pool yet again in his eyes and he throws himself at Raph, wrapping his arms around him in the best tiny hug he can muster. He cries with a mixture of wet sobs and choked laughs. Raph returns the hug, enveloping Mikey's form in his large arms. They sit like that for a while. Raph isn't sure how long. Mikey slowly settles down, and the soft, even breathing Raph hears from the yokai cradled in his arms signals that he has fallen asleep.

He slowly lowers his shield, but Mikey's sleep doesn't seem disturbed by the lack of it. Most everyone seems to have gone home or helped with repairs in the village by now. Red Fox is there helping them.

Raph is able to quietly explain to the red panda that they should leave soon and gestures to Mikey. Without much explanation, Red Fox seems to understand. She's good like that.

They spend the last night of their trek away from any villages, and under the stars; Mikey still sleeping peacefully in Raph's protective arms.

<–previous   ///   next–>

[giant-sketches]

Guardian Naga Chpt. 4

 I have come to deliver on my word of a longer chapter with more sketches attached! Plus, a fun surprise! We’re getting into the good stuff now my friends!!! If you have yet not read the latest, or any chapters thus far please do check out the links below. Also if you would like to be added to the tag for this fic please don’t hesitate to ask. :D

Chapters: 1/2/3/

   Another two weeks had passed as Roman continued to visit the Naga with sweets and converse with him about his day. Only two months remained before Remus’s return, but despite this fact Roman found himself looking forward to his meet-ups at the caves. He shared stories of his youth and about many harrowing adventures he’d experience due to his mischievous brother. He spoke of the wonderful people in the kingdom and about his childhood friends. The plan was progressing smoothly, but Roman couldn’t help wanting to learn more about the Naga. He only talked about himself while there and the Naga would remain silent and listening. Thus, during his free time he read any books he could find relating to his new friend. 

   Sadly, not much was written about the Naga besides the one fairy-tale he vaguely remembered before. After an unsuccessful search the solemn King was about to give up when an anomaly caught his eye. Two books set beside one another displaced an unusual amount of darkened space between them; as if there was nothing attached to their bindings. Taking a chance Roman removed the two false coverings to reveal an enlarged space hidden behind. Inside lay an old journal with the name of the first king inscribed on top, Virgil.   

“What in the world is this and why was it hidden away?”

   Checking first to see if anyone around, Roman quickly returned to his personal quarters in order to further inspect the journal. He took additional precautions not to damage it by wearing gloves as he proceeded to flip through. The journal appeared to be a sort of day-by-day log the first king wrote in to keep record of the kingdom’s progression. For the first few years not much was written besides the occasional conflict among lords, complications with trading overseas, and a six month long famine. The famine records were particularly interesting as it seems to end abruptly with entire fields filling up with crops overnight and rain washing over the land for three whole days. Something so unreal, it was like a miracle!

“What if…was it the Naga?”

   Roman paused for a moment to contemplate this train of thought that popped into his mind. What if this was the Naga’s doing? If it was then why did the Virgil not write anything down about meeting him? As Roman continued looking through the journal he found not even one mention of the Naga. Yet, more miracles kept occurring: from alliances being formed with decade long enemies, a pandemic being cured in less then a month, and the appearance of magic itself in a select amount of people, including the past King. It was well known in history books that King Virgil was a fan of dark enchantments and had complete mastery over shadow spells. 

“Wait! What if this journal is also enchanted? If that’s true then there must be some kind of trick to it…hidden text maybe? How would I get it to reveal itself though? If I remember correctly dark enchantments dealing with paper included elements like spit, ash, and blood being placed on the paper to reveal anything hidden.”

   Still, Roman was unsure of which to test out first. True enough he could try all three, but because of how old the journal was he was afraid of damaging it if his attempts failed. He’d have to decide on one and hope for a good result. As he scoured his brain for any hints as to which component to use a peculiar thought came across his mind; blood, the King’s blood. Was it possible that the first King would only want those of royalty to see what was hidden inside? If it was about the Naga it would make sense.

“Blood it is then.”

   Without hesitation Roman placed his hand underneath his desk and pulled out a small dagger. Swiftly, he placed the blade against his thumb and pressed until blood trickled out. He pulled the journal towards him  and cautiously placed his thumb at the corner of where the entry about the famine began. Instantly, the blood spread rapidly across the page and dyed it a deep crimson red. Blackened cursive rose up from the stained pages and wrote out the first King’s meeting with the Naga and his conversations with him afterwards. Near the end Virgil spoke of building a shrine for the Naga to live in and be with the people it protected. Yet, the final passage cased Roman’s blood to run cold:

To my dearest friend, I am sorry that I was unable to keep you safe and happy as I had promised when we first met. The people who once worshiped you as a guardian deity and depended on you have been blinded by their fears of the unknown. As I write this I am gravely wounded and I cannot come to see you as I had hoped in my final moments. I wanted to protect you, but in the end I couldn’t bring myself to harm my countryman, this mistake has cost me my life.

However, I fear it has cost you an even greater punishment that you are undeserving of. You are not the deceitful monster they think you are, yet despite my greatest efforts to convince them they fell to their own anxieties. I can only hope you can forgive their foolishness. As for me I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted in the end. I could only remain your friend as I had fallen for another. I hope one day you’ll find your destined one as well my friend.

Now, if this message is ever found by one of my descendants who has become the next King, please grant me my dying wish. Seek out the Naga wherever it may be dwelling and tell him how sorry I am. As the current King I want you to apologize on behalf of the entire kingdom and mankind. Please do this for me so I can rest without any regrets.

   Roman’s tears were overflowing as he kept trying to wipe them away, but more continued to appear. All he could think about was the loneliness, pain, and heartbreak the Naga must have suffered for the past 500 years. Roman felt he was no better than those foolish humans of the past as he thought back to their first encounter. He had to go apologize immediately, even if today wasn’t a meet-up date there was no time to waste. He needed to grant Virgil’s dying wish no matter what.

   Usually Roman came to visit every other day in the morning or evening, but he was now in front of the caves midday. Though out of breath from sprinting towards the forest he began calling out into the caves for the Naga.

“Naga! Are you there? It’s me Roman. Naga!” There was no answer. Was he not inside the caves?

   Roman had no idea where else to look as they had never met anywhere but at the caves. As he began to worry that he may not be able to meet with the Naga today his ears perked up at the sound of leaves rustling behind him. Unsure of who or what might be lurking inside the brush he spun himself around quickly in preparation. However, before he could even think about taking further action he froze at the sight of the Naga emerging from the forest. 

   This was his first time laying his eyes upon the massive creature when not covered in shadows. The Naga’s frame was lean with smooth skin covered in emerald colored scales. He had his chest loosely wrapped by a grey cloth. His ears were pointed outwards and decorated with a single gold earring. The Naga’s hair was a deep black and most spectacular sight was his tail that was covered in an array of gold and green scales that glittered in the light. Overall, only one word came to mind as Roman continued to gaze in awe,

“Beautiful.”

   Startled, the Naga finally noticed Roman standing still outside the entrance to the cave. It was obvious he had missed Roman’s remake as he sheepishly began backing up into the forest in order to hide himself. Panicked, Roman called out to him,

“Wait! It’s okay, you don’t need to hide anymore.” The Naga was surprised at Roman’s remark and hesitated.

“Are you truly alright with my presence?”

“Yes, please. I want to see you.” The Naga was lost for words as he slithered his way out into the open. 

   Roman was still amazed by the sight and as he reflected back on their first meeting he found it hard to believe he was ever afraid of someone so lovely. What an utter fool he had been, he thought as he turned away in shame. Then, without warning, Roman felt two large hands wrap around him. He had failed to notice the Naga had leaned down towards him and was now gently picking him up. Despite the scales his touch was soft as he pressed his pointer finger up against Roman’s face and lightly stroked it. Roman was unsure of what was going on, but he felt no discomfort and actually enjoyed the uncommon sensation.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you little one. Know I will not harm you, but I noticed that your eyes were reddened and grew concerned for your well-being. Have you been feeling alright as of late?”

   Was the Naga worried about him and trying to comfort him? This Naga was beyond considerate, how could he have not seen this all until now? As Roman was about to lose himself in another burst of tears he could feel the hands surrounding him begin to stretch and expand.

“Wha-”

“Ah, no need to fear. It’s just that my body shifts in size throughout the day as my body heat rises. It will stop soon enough, so please endure it until then. I promise not to let you fall.”

“O-Okay.”

   Roman had become flustered at the sight of this already massive creature growing even bigger right in front of him. He was embarrassed to admit he enjoyed the view as he gave the Naga a soft smile. It did not take long for the fingers surrounding him to quickly outgrow his tiny frame. Once the growing stopped Roman was small enough to roll around the Naga’s palm freely if he wanted. The creature had become gigantic! Concerned over Roman’s possible reaction to his growth the Naga whispered,

“Are you not frightened by my new stature?”

“Oh course not, yo-”

   Roman stopped short as the gaping hole on the Naga’s face, where his other eye should have been, caught his attention. He shivered at the realization that the people from 500 years ago must have done that to him. The Naga, however, took this reaction differently and instinctively used his free hand to over it up. Roman jumped at the sudden movement and fell backwards.

“Hideous is it not? I apologize for scaring you Roman. I’ll let you down now so you may leave.” A sad smile shown on his face.

“What, no I’m not afraid and I don’t want to leave.”

Instantly, Roman could feel the sadness reflected in the Naga’s now enormous eye permeating through his body.

“You must be a wonderful King. To have such courage when standing face-to-face with a monster such as I. I’m sure you are dearly loved by your people, but while here with me you have no need to hide your fear. You can be truthful with me.” 

A sharp pain ran through Romans’s heart. “A….monster? Do you really see yourself as a monster?”

“What else would I be? Even now my size is large enough to crush you between my fingers. Are you trying to convince me that you see me differently?”

“I-I do.”

“I’m sorry, but I find that hard to believe.” Roman gritted his teeth as he grew increasingly agitated.

“I found Virgil’s journal!” 

The Naga was shocked. “What did yo-”

“I said I found Virgil’s journal from 500 years ago. For some reason it was hidden away in the royal library and the text about you was locked away with a dark enchantment. Despite that I was able to read his final words and dying wish.”

“Virgil’s dying wish…what was it?”

Roman was now sobbing, but he cleared his throat in order to give a clear answer. 

“He was killed while trying to protect you from the people who had formed an uprising. He wrote how sorry he was that he couldn’t see you in his final moments or return your feelings of love for him. His dying wish was that one of his descendants would find the journal and seek you out in order to formally apologize on behalf of the kingdom and humanity. That’s why I came here today in such a hurry.”

“So it wasn’t just because you wanted to see me then?” 

“Wha-no, of course I wanted to see you. I’ve always looked forward to our meetings.”

   Roman couldn’t help, but blush at his sudden remark. The Naga too found himself blushing lightly. An awkward silence fell between them both until Roman decided not to delay on his mission anymore. 

“Anyway, I wish to fulfill the first King’s dying wish and wholeheartedly apologize for the kingdom’s sins against you for the past 500 years. Even if you chose to never forgive us humans that’s fine, but I personally would like you to know that I truthfully do not see you as a monster. If anything you’re undeniably beautiful in every way.”

“Beautiful? You find me beautiful?”

   Roman struggled to answer as his head had overheated from embarrassment. Had he just confessed to the Naga? The Naga noticed how woozy Roman looked and believed it was best for him to call it a day. 

“You needn’t worry little one, despite all the things humans have taken from me I still have a heart. Thus, I accept your apology as the current King. Thank you for taking the time to come deliver it in person after all this time.”

Roman collected himself and responded, “You’re welcome!”

“I think for now you should return to the castle to rest. You appear exhausted and I’d hate to see you come down with something.”

“Yes I think you’re right. I’ll take some time to rest, but I promise to return shortly.”

   The Naga only smiled as he gently placed it’s hand onto the ground to let Roman off and then quickly slithered back into its cave without a word. Roman casually walked back to the castle lost in thought as he found himself confused about his feelings for the Naga. Had he actually fallen for him, or was he simply just mistaken?

End Chapter 4

@soviet-speck​ @valentin0vkc @legendsgates​ 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Hand of Peace”

Welcome all, to the conclusion of this little mini series. (fear not it is not the conclusion of the overall series, just this plot point) don’t worry you will continue to get your content. However with finals coming up, I can’t be sure how much time I will have to write in the next few weeks, so be ready for that. I have really enjoyed hearing everyone’s reactions, requests and questions. If you are super desperate to support me, the best way to do it, is to interact, make comments and ask questions it shows me that you all are interested. Reading what you guys have to say makes my day! Read, and enjoy please :)

The rock clattered to the ground with a cracking thud. Captain Vir dusted off his hands, “Cane would be proud.” He muttered, shoving General’s Cosma’s unconscious body to the side with a distasteful foot, kicking her into the dirt a few feet to the left where she was no longer in contact with Sunny. He kneeled then, supporting Sunny’s head and shoulders in his arms, “You big….. idiot.” He scolded breathlessly, reaching down, and ripping a strip of cloth from his torn pant leg holding it to her face.

Her blood quickly wetted the rag, but there was nothing more he could do than apply pressure to the wound. She lolled heavily in his arms, barely conscious. Her mouth trembled softly voice barely audible past other echoing noises.

“You…. Shouldn’t have….. Interfered.”

“Shut up, Sunny. I wasn’t just going to let you die, you know me better than that.” He tried to keep his voice light, though, when he looked up, he found himself alone and exposed in a slowly encroaching circle of Drev soldiers. Their eyes were narrowed with anger, and their weapons were held at the ready.

“It’ll be alright, Sunny. Everything’s going to be fine, we won, you and me.” He kept talking as the circle grew smaller. Sunny’s eyes were closed, but he allowed a tail of the rag to rest over her remaining eye. He didn’t want the possibility of her seeing what was going to happen next. He knew what he had done, now they were probably both going to die. Him for interfering, and once General Cosma regained consciousness, she would finish what she had started and Kill Sunny too.

It was a real pity, for a moment there he had almost hoped that they would make it out, but who was he kidding. He had been lucky for years now he had had a great and supportive family, he had gotten his dream job, made first contact, participated in peace talks, survived the war, lost a leg but not his life, mostly recovered from post-traumatic stress, lost an eye, but avoided major brain damage, met one of his best friends; Krill, then his other best friend; Sunny somehow having run into the only Drev who would have been willing to befriend him, he had avoided a court-martial and then execution; if only for a few minutes, He was Captain of a SPACE SHIP for crying out loud, everyone dreamed of doing that.  

Honestly, it seemed only fair he should die here, in his lifetime, he had received and undue amount of Luck, a disproportional amount compared to others. Now that he thought about it, it seemed sort of unfair. He pulled Sunny closer, “You’re going to be alright Sunny, when we’re all done with this, I promise we can get you a new eye, like mine. There are a lot of choices, they have ones with targeting systems I think you’d like it. Maybe we can get you one that can see infrared too.” The Drev circle was tight now, almost shoulder to shoulder standing around them in a grim, aggressive line.

They looked around at each other before one of the creatures raised his weapon…. It was not dissimilar in style and shape to a human sword, accept cut form volcanic stone and glass. He was sure it would shatter against stone, but against the soft flesh of his throat…. There was no reason to hope.

He closed his eyes, “We’ll splurge, my paycheck for a year, how does that sound?”

Something swished softly through the air, cutting towards his throat.

“STOP!”

The blow never landed, Captain Vir opened an eye, his only eye, and glanced upwards. The Drev soldiers had turned away, their circle breaking slowly as they milled in confusion. Beyond them, just outside the village, a large, dark shuttle sat docked still settling into the dust. The ramp had been lowered into the strange, soft moss, and another group of Drev soldiers had spilled outwards watching them all with intent gazes. Their weapons weren’t held aggressively, but their posture was cautious.

One of the Drev soldiers surrounding Sunny, and Vir, stepped forward and a bit to the side, opening up his view a little more to reveal a large shape limping towards them. The figure was nine or ten feet tall, with thick plated red armor, and a set of familiar golden eyes.

“Cannon!” Vir exclaimed in shock. Below, Sunny had clawed her way from the edges of unconsciousness and blearily opened an eye, she seemed surprised too, as surprised as she could be in her current state, “You…. Know my…. Brother?”

The massive shape limped is way forward, pushing the other soldiers out of the way, “Step back, give them some air.”

The soldiers milled around for a moment in clear confusion, “Cannon? Aren’t you supposed to be….”

“Dead?” The Drev asked, turning his cold golden eyes onto the other soldier, “Wouldn’t that be convenient for you.”

“But, the rules.” The Drev sputtered.

Captain Vir looked up to the Ex Drev officer, “Cannon, what are they on about?”

“An ancient Drev custom, human, if you are crippled in battle and can no longer fight, you are encouraged, no…. expected, to rid the clan of your presence, so that you don’t waist valuable resources. In the past, it has been tradition to toss yourself into the fire as an offering to the gods.”

Captain Vir spluttered in surprise, “They wanted you to kill yourself!”

“It is not a custom that we use greatly anymore, but you understand that our family was very traditional, and tended to uphold any and all of the old traditions. Only Sunny knew what I had done in leaving this planet for the stars, everyone else thought I had gone through with my mother’s wishes.”

Captain Vir glanced towards General Cosma still sprawled in the dirt, “One sick puppy.”

Cannon took another few steps forward, but was blocked by one of the other soldiers, “This ends now, Cannon, you no longer have influence here. Your rank was stripped, and once the General learns what you have done, you will be disowned.” He pointed towards Captain Vir, “This one interfered with the laws of the duel, and will be put to death accordingly.”

Cannon looked on in bemusement, “Now remind me, I’ve been away for a while, but what is the law regarding duels?”

The Drev opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, “Well, I don’t know the exact wording, but I know what he did was illegal, against principal.”

Cannon tapped his claws against his arm musingly. The posture, and the gestures were surprisingly human, “That’s interesting because I’ve been involved in a lot of duels in my time, and I seem to remember that they were supposed to be overseen by the village’s reconciler who would then make a writ of the terms of the duel. Furthermore, each duel was supposed to be held to specific stipulations. Did mother mention this was to be a one on one fight?”

The soldier remained silent.

Cannon grunted, “Well, that seems to be a problem then. Without a formal writ, and no witnesses, I can assume that my mother was not following protocol, which makes this an illegal duel. Sunny is not experienced enough to know the rules, so it couldn’t have been her fault. And in any case,” He motioned to the human’s leg, “I see some of Sunny’s armor there, and if that’s Sunny’s armor, than by way of the rules, he IS Sunny to an extent.” He looked on one set of arms crossed the other resting on his hips, “But of course, I am just the crippled disgraced son who didn’t throw himself into a volcano, so what would I know about the rules of dueling.”

The square was quiet, but after a moment, the Drev soldiers backed down bowing their heads as Cannon moved forward ordering his men to detain General Cosma. By then, Sunny had lulled back into unconsciousness, blood still welling from her eye socket and onto the hard packed dirt below. Captain Vir tried to hold pressure on the wound, but it didn’t seem to be helping as much as he might have wished.

After he was done ordering the soldiers around, Cannon knelt across from Vir, and looked down at Sunny. You couldn’t tell by way of skin color that Sunny wasn’t doing well, but she was growing cold, and that didn’t seem to be a good sign, “What do we do?” Cannon asked, it was clear he had no more idea of what to do that Sunny did. The Drev weren’t known for their great medical skill. It seemed that their response to illness and injury amounted to, if you are strong you will survive, and if you die than you were probably not worthy of living anyway.

Captain Vir looked up at the sky, “I have a medic aboard my ship…. If he’s still alive. If anyone can help her it’s him.”

Cannon nodded, and slowly moved to his feet ordering some of the soldiers forward to help. Captian Vir stepped back as one of them picked Sunny up off the ground and carried her back to the shuttle. She lolled, a dead weight in their arms, with two of her hands dangling limply from the side of her body. Blood trailed on the ground behind her. Captian Vir stayed close by trying to staunch the blood with the already saturated cloth. Aboard the shuttle, he removed his overshirt discarding the rag on the floor as he knelt over her.

A few of the soldiers were left behind to deal with general Cosma, but Cannon joined them aboard the shuttle forced to sit as the craft rattled into the air. Captian Vir clenched his teeth. He didn’t like riding in aircraft that he wasn’t flying. He knew it was petty to think so highly of himself, but he hadn’t yet met someone who could outfly him. This particular pilot had a habit of fighting against the controls, white knuckling against the natural roll and yaw of the craft as it moved through the atmosphere. The result was a rather rattling, jarring ascent.

He looked up again, from his blood stained shirt and upwards at Sunnys Brother, Cannon. He was, in fact, the first Drev Captain Vir had ever met personally. In fact, he was probably the first Drev that most people had ever met. He had been a real mess when they had first encountered each other. It had been a while after the war, after Vir had finally started recovering from his PTSD, and while he was still in the probationary stages of being a Captain.

He had been working at one of the Oxyclinics near the Galactic Assembly homeward getting himself used to being around aliens again, getting used to trusting them again after the war. It was during this time, Cannon had turned up, crippled, in chronic pain, and showing nearly all the symptoms of a major depressive episode. It’s rather interesting to note that humans have the highest rate of mental illness in the galaxy, they seem more susceptible to it, in most of its forms. In other species, mental illness is rather rare. The Drev, for instance don’t seem to experience post-traumatic stress like humans. Though they had not been studying the Drev for very long, the rates of PTSD remained at 0%.

For this reason, It’s a general rule in the clinic that if an alien is showing symptoms similar and almost equal to human mental illness, than there is something horribly, horribly wrong. At first, Captain Vir hadn’t been able to stand in the same room as Cannon without devolving into a full blown PTSD attack, but a desire to recover had driven him to change that. Cannon had been his mountain, and he had been desperate to help both of them.

It took months of trying on both of their parts before they were functioning again.

Captain Vir shifted Sunny into a more comfortable position cradling her head on his lap as Cannon watched head tilted, “You’ve come a long way.” He commented wryly

“I could say the same for you.” He glanced down at Sunny and then back up at Cannon, “Small universe.”

Cannon nodded looking down sadly at his sister, but he didn’t say anything and the captain didn’t ask, silent as they approached the Drev ship, and its magnetic claws gripping around the U.S.S Stabby. The rest of the Drev soldiers that had come along with them moved towards the docking station ready to make entry aboard the ship. Captian Vir stayed where he was, more worried about Sunny than he was about making entry. He hoped that they would manage to do something…. He hoped that his crew wasn’t dead. The shuttle pulled into the docking station with a rattle and grinding noise that set Vir’s teeth on edge. It was a terrible noise. Whoever was piloting this hunk of steel really should not be piloting.

They ground to a halt, and Cannon stood staying towards the back of his soldiers as he gave the order. One of them slapped the opening button and the doors released a pressurized hiss. A gust of wind blew through the compartment as the pressure equalized. Captain Vir readied himself for whatever might be behind those doors.

And was surprised to find, a rather scruffy group of marines standing over the unconscious bodies of the Drev soldiers. Two of them were holding wrenches, one of them brandished a crowbar, and all of them were mostly undressed. Two of the marines were wearing only their boxers, and one of the marines was conspicuously garbed in only a towel, one about her body and the other wrapped around her hair. She tossed a hammer up and down in one hand.

“They glanced over at the docking bay and like a group of wolves, they formed up on each other stalking forward. The Drev pulled back at the sight pulling aside to put the Captain in View. The marines perked up, “CF! You’re alive.”

Captain Vir stood in time as the marines pushed their way into the shuttle thumping him on the back, “We were just on our way to rescue you.”

The other marines nodded, “Yeah captain, these big beetles didn’t stand a chance.” The marine glanced over at Cannon, “No offence, of course.”

The captain responded with a weak grin, “You crazy bastards….” He paused, “Tell me, is Krill still alive?”

***

“I have a theory that the number of missing body parts is directly related to Idiocy.” Krill glowered at the captain, who sat on the edge of one of the cots, “First it’s you, and then it’s Sunny.” He waved his arms in front of the two of them, “You see this, it’s called having all of your limbs. It’s what happens when you are intelligent enough to be cautious, but no, the two of you can’t help but mount insurrections, challenge duels, and charge blindly into situations that will eventually get you dead.

Captain Vir glanced over at the bed on his left where Waffles was lying with her head resting on one of her paws ears up tail dangling off the side of the cot wagging slowly. He was immensely grateful the dog had survived with only minor injuries. She had been knocked out coming out of warp, and injured her paw, but otherwise, she was ok.

Krill had moved over to Sunny’s bedside where she lay bandaged, heavily drugged, and healing.

“I swear, the two of you give me palpitations. If we sewed the two of you together, we might end up with the correct number of eyes and limbs.” Krill grumbled bustling about the infirmary with help from one of the marines. He had injured some of his legs coming out of warp. If he floated, he didn’t have to use his legs, but movement wasn’t so fast, so he had commandeered one of the marines to pull him around the infirmary to help the injured.

Captain Vir sighed and rested back against the bed. He wasn’t really injured aside form a mild concussion and some bruising about the neck and wrists, but he was immensely exhausted. This past month or two had been exhausting. He just wanted to sleep, just for five minutes without their being antagonized by yet another problem.

He just wanted to sleep.

***

The Galactic Assembly stood as the Drev representative stepped into the room. The chamber was mostly quiet as the Drev’s silver armor sparkled in the light. Behind him Captain Vir, mediator to the Drev, stood with a group of other delegates including Sunny, and Cannon. The chosen Drev representative was General Magnus from one of the neighboring Drev tribes. For a Drev he was known for being open minded, cautious and astute.

As he sat, the assembly sat.

The chairwoman of the assembly stood, “The Galactic Assembly welcomes the Drev representatives on this historic day. Is there anything you wish to say before we begin peace talks?”

The room grew silent as Genderal Magnus stood once again. His voice was deep and slow echoing about the chamber with a stately power, “We, the Drev only wish to extend our hand to galactic peace, and our armies for the protection of all. But we especially thank the members of the human race for helping us to put aside our differences. The war has taught us much, and we are eager to learn…. Let us waist o further time, and begin.”

[bulletproofscales]

Is there a chance we could get a really gassy Jungkookie w any member? Like, Jungkook was so stuffed and was drinking soda and couldn’t stop burping? Love your blog❤️❤️

--SOO,, u mentioned anymember so i took the liberty of making this a hOPEKOOK FIC!! Ive really wanted to write somethign about them and experiment with their amazing dynamic. It was so HARD!! i tried to balance them exploring their relationship and feelings for eachothr (since its such an uncommon ship) whilst trying to stay on track with your reuqest... I really hope you enjoy it!!-- 

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By how fun the director had made the commercial sound, this Coca Cola promotion was truly: a drag. Of course, no promotion could be entirely fun, Jungkook likes to keep it professional; so he never once complained, and tried to be as collaborative as everyone else was. Besides, it wasn't all bad, look at all the free soda they were giving them! Ok. Perhaps Jungkook was drowning his boredom in Coke. But, he didn't notice until he felt a strain of discomfort.

He tried to maintain a straight face as best as he could, they were still in the middle of the recording. In his mind trying to remember how he got into this state in the first place. It slowly came to him, the unconscious need to have a bottle in hand during the whole pre-recording, make-up, and rehearsal. Trying to keep count he stood in disbelief when he remembered his tenth Coca Cola. In fact, he could still perfectly remember the feeling. His stomach getting harder by the bottle, but i'm only being automatically motivated to more. He peeked down discreetly and there it was: his taun stomach pressing firmly against the white t-shirt they had dressed him in. Just the thought of how careless he had been about his surroundings, made the boy blush a deep shade of crimson. Luckily enough, all his hyungs were much more professional than him and were way too concentrated on what was going on in the recording to notice, this time...or, any of the... other times.

If he had to come clean, Jungkook had sometimes had the habit of, overdoing it; whatever it was. He never really understood the reason behind this actitudes; thought to himself he had the courage to acknowledge: he liked the way fullness felt. It felt safe, warm and fun. And as mysterious as its reasoning was, or the vagueness behind what it was that he liked, reall; the maknae still knew nobody had to find out about this. If it was so confusing to he himself, he couldn't imagine trying to explain it to someone else. However it was so consuming, so inviting; he couldn't bring himself to stop. He figured if done every once in a while in the privacy of his locked door, nothing bad would come from it. 

But this was certainly not the place. All this time he'd been spacing out the director was giving corrections for the next shot; which was by far the most fun out the bunch. For Jungkook's bloated stomach though, it was going to be only insufferable pain. Of course, he already knew what he had to do; even with his incautious behavior now, he had studied the scene before even coming into set. That made him dread this scene even more; he could barely walk without having his midsection send a wave of pain coursing through his entire body, let alone jumping excitedly into a pool. He put himself in his position, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and prepared himself for the discomfort he was about to feel. 

"Everybody! Take five!" HIs eyes snapped open and look like they were about to fall of his skull. He took no time bothering in explaining anybody why he pathetically waddled or attempted to run to the toilet.

When he finally got there, he noticed it was a one person only bathroom, which in a way brought him some sense of comfort. Knowing nobody else would be there. He knocked almost excitedly on the door, just to check before locking himself in. Promptly sitting on toilet, JUngkook couldn't help the relaxed sigh that escaped his lips. He peaked down like he had done back in the recording, fearful of what he might find at the bottom; with anticipating undertones. Except this time, he could keep staring in awe. 

His stomach has ballooned enormously, to the point where the waistband of his swimming trunks were interfering with his hardened dome. With slightly shaking hands he reached for said wasteland, and began pushing it down slowly; mesmerized by the continuously skin being exposed. Flesh taunt with gas, pushing outwards like he had swollen a melon. Once they were all the way down to his crotch, Jungkook was still struck with his own body. The way the enormous amounts of liquids had been able to fade away almost every sign of muscle that was there not too long ago. Or the way his stomach now was big enough to cover some of the view of his lap. HIs large hands left their resting place on his muscular thighs and grazed above the hardened flesh tentatively. Slowly, they descend until placed on top of the bloated midsection. Without any force, Jungkook began moving his hands around the dome with care. Not pushing enough to press the gas ou, but he didn't want that; he wanted to stay like this for as long as he possibly could. His eyes still strained to the exposed skin he stayed there caressing himself for what felt like an eternity. Nothing mattered now, not the recording, not the five minute break. This moment was only for himself- There someone banging on the door. 

 When Jungkook had come into BigHit as a trainee he was well accustomed with the fact that he liked men as well as women; so seeing not only Hoseok, but all of his other members as handsome young men wasn't a surprised. However, nothing had prepared him for the dancer's caring and outgoing personality, that would become the one thing helping Jungkook out of his shell to the others. Back in the day, Hoseok was the only people he felt comfortable with. It didn't take long for a crush to appear. 

Throughout the years, Jungkook has had to suffer through cuddles and forehead kisses from the man he's been crushing on for years. It is hell. To know Hoseok is filled with love and needs to express it even without it being romantic really hurt. But he couldn't even be mad about it, it was Hoseok's way of being and it was endearing to say the least. Eventually he stopped asking him for touch and affection, Jungkook reckoned that if he did he was probably taking advantage of Hoseok's loving personality. Recently, he older had caught him off guard, asking him if anything was wrong; he really didn't know what to answer, so he didn't. Needless to say, things were conflictive between the two at the moment. 

"Jungkook, is everything alright? Can I come in?" You could feel his tone becoming more stern, but the care was always there. Guilty, the maknae thought about how he shut Hoseok out the other day. And how, as embarrassing as this was, he couldn't bring himself to do it again. So he inhaled deeply, feeling his stomach push out even more it even stung a little. Exhaled, and opened the door into the stall. Hoseok walked in, and stared at the younger intently. The compromising position made Jungkook's entire body warm up with shame. He immediately felt the need to explain himself. 

"I-It was an accident! I didn't notice how much I had drank until my stomach was all bloated, and I tried to keep it professional, but it had started to hurt so I came in here..." He wouldn't dare to look at the older man in the eyes, he knew if he did his voice would shake even more than it already was. The silence was suffocating, so he continued. "I was about to take care of it! Y-You don't even need to be here, it's-fine I got it." He explained quickly when he saw the dancer kneel before him.

"Let me help." He sounded so gentle yet so determined. All those times he had stuffed himself as to be taken care of, he had had always wished of having Hoseok be the one to pamper him, and soothe him. Regardless, he was going to protest, but the older beat him to it. "What where you going to do?"

"Um, well... I usually rub my stomach, to help me get the burps out... You really don't have to-?"

"Can I?" He interrupted. To which Jungkook, taken aback, nodded slowly. 

Hoseok's eyes were fixated on the large expanse of skin before him, his dainty fingers slowly reaching for the hardened dome.

"The break is over! We need you on set!" Somebody abnged n the door and yelled from the outside. 

"Just a minute!" Hoseok exclaimed happily as if nothing strange were happening inside the stall. When his eyes came back to Jungkook they had changed; they didn't have that caring and gentle aspect they had before, now he looked determined. 

Without any warning, he placed his hands firmly on Jungkook's stomach; the younger man gasped at the feeling. Hoseok's hands were smaller than hid, making him feel a lot bigger than he actually was. And without waiting another second he began kneading the skin with strength and speed. 

Without any warning, he placed his hands firmly on Jungkook's stomach; the younger man gasped at the feeling. Hoseok's hands were smaller than hid, making him feel a lot bigger than he actually was. And without waiting another second he began kneading the skin with strength and speed. The maknae's eyes widened at the sensation, the hands pushing in and out of his taunt flesh had him feeling all sorts of things. Although weird, he couldn't help but think of how intimate this situation was, freeing butterflies inside his stomach. Wait, no. It's a burp. 

Loud and gurgly, it resonated on the ceramic walls. Jungkook's face grew even redder. But when he looked at the dancer for his reaction, satisfied smile was not what he was expecting. The older moved his hands to the very bottom of his stomach, urging all of the has to come out. Even if dainty, Hoseok's hands were massaging the flesh like his life depended on it. Groping tightly, squishing between fingers urging the gas to come out. And it did, repeatedly so. Jungkook felt his body relax form the tension in his stomach leaving, however he could not bare with the embarrassment that the he felt; using his hands to cover his face and burping through them. 

"Do you feel any better?" He asked with care, to which he nodded, head still buried deep in his own hold. "Ok then, let's get out, they are waiting for us" The older man stood up and offered a helping hand for Jungkook to do the same. He took it and together they walked out of the stall and into the set.

Luckily the wait hadn't even been that long as they had feared, it took a little bit of the guilt but it didn't change the fact that this was horrible, this felt horrible. Jungkook had never felt more disgusting and appealing in his life, feeling the silent judgement form his crush out of all people. Of course, he wasn't showing it, yet it was only natural to judge someone under such bizarre circumstances. How was he supposed to talk to Hoseok after this? He might as well have confessed and be let down, at least that's a normal way to ruin a friendship. 

The recording went by smoothly, although he couldn't help but go into shut down more. He cooperated throughout but he did not want to speak to anybody; it was especially hard pretending to be enjoying yourself and having a blast, but somehow he managed. In moments like this, Jungkook truly felt completely unaware of his surroundings; he didn't know how much time had gone by, the people talking felt like faint background noises and all he could hear were his own thoughts resonating inside his head. Eventually, it was over and they could go home. 

The ride home went smoothly, the rest of the group chatting animatedly about the recording. He chose to pretend to be asleep; he knew that if any of his hyungs saw him even slightly upset, they wouldn't let it go. He walked to their dorm, stilll faking his tiredness but slowly becoming real, and walked into his room. He laid there, drowning in self pity.

Beer. That's what he needed. He quickly changed and headed for the door, some of the other members were there. He reassured them he was going out to get something to drink, he would be right back. As he gto outside, Jungkook considered actually going to a bar or rather buying the beer and drinking it in the comfort of his room. The latter sounded better.It was already dark so the streets were not nearly as packed, a beanie and a mask should do it. Living in such an exclusive part of Seoul, he had to actually walk for a couple of minutes to get to the first convience store. However, he needed the walk, think about everything by himself; his feelings for Hoseok, what had happened today, the odler's response, his own reaction. It all seemed like such a mess, and mostly like he has put himself on this position. He was the one who took advantage of Hoseok to the point where it damaged their relationship. He got out of the store almost as soon as he walked in, the only difference was that now he had two large packs of beer inside of a bag and was determinedly or almost excitedly walking back to their shared apartment.  He sprinted trying his best not to shake the dozens of cans he was carrying with him to his room. He went by so fast, that nobody really had the time to process nor worry about what the maknae might be up to; they were all really tired form the recording and they recon even Jungkook might appreciate the space alone. 

He sat in his desk, and turned on his computer, looking for the playlist he truly wanted to listen to at a time like this. Once he heard the soft tunes begin to play, he physically relaxed into his chair, closing his eyes and letting a long sigh escape through his parted lips. And without further ado, he began to drink. 

 It was so easy to get lost in what he was doing, the movement of the can form the desk to Jungkook's mouth almost automatic, the feeling of fullness engulfing him little by little. The warmness in his stomach growing alongside the dizziness in his head.The music playing making it seem like time had stopped for just this moment, but time did go on and soon all the other members were heading to sleep; further immersing him in this atmosphere he had created. He placed the hand that wasn't holding a beer on his slightly rounded out stomach, the gas already begging to expand his midsection, and rubbed there gently. Just to feel if it was actually real or not, he didn't know through how many cans he had gone through but it was hard to keep track of what sensations were real and which ones he was imagining for self indulgence. 

He imagined Hoseok was here with him, helping him drink, help him grow. He imagined sitting on his lap and difference of size between them, and growing heavy with the liquid he was chugging down. Hoseok's dainty hands making feel even bigger. Hoseok's lithe frame making JUngkook feel massive, his thick thighs over his slim ones. Hoseok's breath on his ear, encouraging him to go on, hot breathes against his body only making him thirstier and eager to continue. The determined look on Hoseok's dark eyes when he helped him today, the memory of his hands being all over his body. Hoseok. He needed Hoseok. 

He stood up too quickly from his chair, the world swirling slightly around him. he didn't have time to check how many cans were actually left as he clumsily waddled towards his phone; partially because of the alcohol, but also because of the sting in his stomach from the gas stored inside it. He grabbed his phone and quickly sprinted towards his chair and sat on it with force; the slight noise it made sent shivers down Jungkook's spìne. Uncoordinatedly he dialed Hoseok's number, without any real awareness of what he was doing. 

"Jungkook?" A very tired but mostly confused voice answered on the other side.

"Hobi I-" A loud burp interrupted him mid sentence, he now realized he hadn't really opened his mouth since he began drinking.Without any shame he continued. "I-I need you Hobi."Another gurgling noise left his throat after the needy confesion. "Need you hands, here with-with me." His voice was shaky with desperation.

"Jungkook, are you drunk?" His voice was stern. 

"Please come?" A deep sigh was the only thing he said after a long minute of silence.

"I'm going, stay where you are." Waiting for him to arrive Jungkook looked down at himself, with his stomach ballooned his shirt had risen up and he had undone his pants to make more room, he didn't remember doing so in the first place.

"You came!" He exclaimed drowsy. 

"Kookie, what is going on?" He didn't sound as stern as he sounded on the phone. "Getting drunk on a weekday? Alone in your room? Is everything ok?" He slowly approached Jungkook's chair, ignoring completely the compromising position the maknae was in; slightly disappointing the younger by doing so. 

Even if drunk, Jungkook knew that confessing his feelings on this scenario wasn't ideal, not for him nor Hoseok. But, on the other hand , he didn't want to keep lying, specially when the older man was right in front of him demanding to know what was wrong. He had to say something. 

"I just...I keep looking for this feeling of being full and, and I never told anybody. But now you know and, I don't know...I'm scared, I don't know why I do this, I wanted you here." It doesn't really answer all of the dancer's questions, but it wasn't a lie either. And more importantly, it seemed to work on Hoseok. His face softened at the younger boy as he walked and sat at the end of his lap. 

"You didn't finish all of your beers." He mentioned eyeing the bag beside them.

"Want one?" Jungkook offered with a playful smile. 

"Well I suppose one beer won't hurt." That's a lie, especially coming from Hoseok, but he didn't argue against it. He took the beer and began drinking it quickly. "So, you said you were 'looking for this feeling'. What do you mean?" Hoseok made talking, even in the most uncomfortable situations, like it was nothing. 

"This. The feeling of being full. I don't know what it is about it...It makes me feel, safe? In a way, it's more like I put myself in position where I need to be taken care of. And it feels... amazing." It was weird finally saying all that stuff out loud, yet somewhat cathartic. 

“But…” Hoseok began tentatively, “Has there ever been someone, to take care of you?” The maknae blushed, even though the question didn’t imply anything; or that's what he tried to convince himself of. 

“Well, it has been more of a treat yourself thing.”He laughed pitiful. Warmth re appearing on his face as he remembered how desperate where his urges of Hoseok's care. “But I can imagine.” He stated carelessly, the effects of the alcohol finally affecting his common sense. 

“Oh yeah? What do you imagine?” It was getting hard to read what the older man’s tone meant. But he could see him leaning closer from the end of his lap, eyes intently watching the maknae with a glint of something Jungkook couldn’t describe. It was difficult to pay attention as his eyes closed, drowsy and wasted; Hoseok’s insinuating questions only made his long time fantasy more vivid. Before he could control himself he spoke. 

“You, mostly.” The statement should have been terrifying but he couldn't find it in himself to care at this point, so he continued. “Your pretty little hands all over me, you would take such good care of me, hyung. I can’t stop thinking about it, since today I’ve been wanting it for so long I-” Once the truth was out, Jungkook filled in the silence with only more exposing honesty, though his rambling was cut short by a tentative hand on his muscular thigh. His eye shot open wide. Ant there he was, dainty hand settled comfortably over his thick leg, the older man leaning forward with an expecting look in his eyes. A serious expression made Jungkook shiver, he looked so, demanding. It felt like he was asking for an explanation, and the maknae was about to give it to him, but he beat him to it when he said. 

“You didn’t finish your beers.” He stated simply. An innocent look as he leaned down to grab one from the bag next to the chair. He slid himself forward on Jungkook’s lap, now sitting mid thigh where his hand had once been. The maknae’s eyes widened if possible even more, as Hoseok opened the can and eyed him expectant for a complaint whilst bringing the can to the younger’s lips. Jungkook took it in an obedient began to drank as the older held the can delicately to his lips. Although his adorable demeanor, the maknae still found an authority in Hoseok; but rather than having to fear it Jungkook felt like he was at the dancer’s care, yet still feeling the need to please him as well. His eyes were glued to his drinking lips, so he took the chance to look at the older properly. 

Hoseok had his eyes half lidded and soft exhales where leaving his parted heart shaped lips. With both hands on the can to make sure nothing spilled, he was leaning slightly towards the bloated stomach; which was beginning to make itself noticeable to both men. Giving it a light pressure, not enough to get any as out, but enough to make him squirm. 

The time their conversation ahd taken hadn’t been enough to sober him up, and the extra beer sliding easily down his throat wasn’t helping either. It was becoming hard to process the situation for Jungkook. Of course he knew this wasn’t just a friendly and platonic encounter, but neither had it been the one in the bathroom earlier that day. It was hard to imagine what Hoseok felt for him, let alone this whole stuffing scenario; all the maknae had was his reactions to guide himself on. He had let all his intentions out there, but Hoseok hadn’t mentioned a word; which wasn’t a surprise for the younger. Attentive of others feelings but neglective and fearful of his, yes, that sounded like Jung Hoseok alright. Lost in thought he hadn’t even noticed he finished the can already, it wasn’t until the can was slipped out of his reach that he snapped out of his transe. 

“Just two more.” There it was again. That authoritative tone on Hoseok’s voice. Not stern but strong, motivating, addictive. Jungkook felt within him the strong urge to comply to whatever it was he asked; so when the older man brought yet another beer to his lips, it was impossible to refuse. Even with the growing discomfort on hi middle section. 

Still in doubt of Hoseok’s intentions behind this entire situation, Jungkook raised his hands from the arm rests of his chair; tentatively hovering over the older’s waist. He didn’t want to cross a line and for this to end, but this whole scenario already felt like a line was being crossed. With his mouth full, he tied eyeing at Hoseok looking for some sort of permission; but the dancer’s eyes were glued to his lips. Intently watching the younger drink, as to make sure if he wanted to stop or not. It didn’t take much for Jungkook to decide on gently settling his hands at either side of Hoseok’s waist; gently urging him closer.  The older man slides across his lap, until his slim stomach was pressing firmly against Jungkook’s firm dome. Soon enough the second large can was finished as well, and the maknae was truly feeling the expanse of his midsection pushing against the shirt he was using. It was uncomfortable. But he knew that the more he drank, the more time Hoseok would have to spend taking care of him; so in the end it didn't take much of him to eagerly begin to drink the last can left. 

This one he wanted to get over with, needed the older’s hands on him somehow. He reckoned Hoseok knew that already, yet he pretended to be concentrated on the can on his lips instead of the bulging firmes growing on his stomach. He gulped aggressively as an attempt to finish it as fast as possible, horrible idea. HAfter slightly choking on beed, he was actually grateful Hoseok’s entire attention was settled on him drinking.  

“You are doing great.” He reassured taking the can away from his mouth, his voice sounded gentle and less authoritative than when he first commanded him to drink. “You only have half a can left, you can do that right?” A teasing and challenging mansour taking over the last question, as if darin Jungkook playfully. This made it clear that Hoseok indeed knew what Jungkook was eager for, but wasn’t willing to give to him until the last beer was finished. The maknae hummed determined and the can was once again brought up to him. Patiently he worked his way through the gazzy liquid. He could feel his face scrunching up from the discomfort in his abdomen, the strains of pain making it hard to continue drinking. He found distraction in his hands around Hoseok’s middle, stroking gently; feeling the skin through the fabric, slightly tightening his grip when feeling especially filled. It seemed like forever, but it was finally finished. 

“Amazing.” Hoseok’s voice was quiet and tender. His face inches close of his own; Jungkook wondered if his deep exhales of air smelled like beer, but it didn’t seem to bother the older man. “You did amazing, Kookie.” Their noses were grazing each other with the slightest of touches, and so were their lips. Jungkook froze, petrified by the others bold actions. With a gentle smile, he brought their lips together. Softly the older man began to move his lips.

The maknae was on a spiral, the alcohol only enhancing his feelings for Hoseok and all of the sensations he was feeling. The gas in his stomach, gurgling and roarin within him, the tingling sensation on his lips moving in sync, Hoseok’s thin fingers sliding form his jaw to his neck to his chest to finally settling on the top of his ballooned stomach, pressing lightly against it. Jungkook’s jaw dropped at the sensation, deepening the kiss. On the hardened dome, Hoseok’s hands began to massage strongly; the sensation so pleasing the maknae was opening his mouth again to let out a moan. He wished he’d take that action back, but it was too late. 

A clear burp erupted from his parted lips almost as soon as he had chosen to open his mouth. 

“Hobi! I’m, shit I’m really sorry, all the beer it just-” He began explaining,m petrified by his own actions. Somehow, he had forgotten what stuffing himself usually lead to. Though his ranting was interrupted by yet another burp escaping past his lips. He stayed there petrified, the ashamed warmth taking over his entire body. A quiet giggle erupted from the older man.

“It’s okay, Kookie.” He spoke reassuringly with a tender tone and even softer voice, their faces still centimeters apart. “Just let it all out, I’ll help you” Although it has started with an authoritative Hoseok, this was one Jungkook war most accustomed to: the Hoseok who helped and cared for everybody; even through embarrassing situations. But, how could he be sure he was just doing it for pity of a wasted maknae and not because he actually felt the same way?

His worries were soon vanished, as the dancer continued not only to rub firm circles on the top of his stomach but continued kissing the younger man. He parted their lips and began nibbling softly on his jaw; Jungkook’s hands on the other’s waist tightened at the sensation. Hoseok’s hands over his stomach felt like magic, dainty but strong; he could feel them moving the gas around him. As a result of his miraculous kneading, a string of various burps came out of the maknaes mout like it was nothing. Sure enough, it felt humiliating, but the older’s encouragement was getting him through it. 

“Yes, keep going.” He mumbled lips pressed to his neck. 

“You are doing amazing.”

“Let them out, just like that”

He mewled at the praise, only for it to blended with another burp. Hoseok’s hands had began to travel along the expanse of taut skin. Groping the sides with force; Jungkook’s jaw fell open, his face scrunching up for pleasure. Earning a burp as its consequence. He could feel himself deflating form the gas leaving his body, thought there was still much to go, and Hoseok was determined to get it out. The older man kept on roaming as much as they could, finally doing so underneath Jungkook’s shirt. The dainty hands settled at the bottom of his stomach, pressing slightly. His automatic response came from his hips, pushing forward against Hoseok’s. It was only then he noticed how aroused this situation was making him. He was hard. The older man had shown his awareness, answering through groping of the lower half of his hardened dome. His burps were become softer and quieter, and it seemed like the could finally begin to focus on the maknae’s other issue. 

Jungkook thought about it for a minute, his long term feelings for Hoseok; is this how he wanted it to happen? Drunk, without a clue if this were going to happen again or not? Suddenly, the smooth movement of the hips from the man on top of him seemed unappealing. 

“Wait!” He exclaimed shyly. The dancer stopping entirely, surprised; his attention completely on Jungkook.  “This is not how I want it to happen.” He stated. “I-I’m sorry if I lead you on, but-”

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything.” He reassured with a smile. “How about this, we go to sleep and we can talk it out tomorrow.”

“That does sound nice.” He confirmed drowsy. 

---

Jungkook rose the next day by the excruciatingly loud alarm on his phone. 6:30 am. Right. Work. The memories of last night were blurry, and all his mind could care about at the moment was to finish preparing for the long day ahead of him; whatever it was that they were doing, he couldn’t recall. HOwever the memory of him and Hoseok having to talk made a spark of an indescribable excitement rise in his stomach. Wait no, that’s the hangover.

[cornacopicimagines]

love affair chpt.4 │t.h

☆.｡.:*  

pairing: king!tom holland x reader

words: 3.6k

warning: swearing, SMUT, oral sex (female recieving), 

summary: In two separate kingdoms were two lonely monarchs. One can somehow never find love and the other is in a painful engagement but by some sort of divine intervention, they two meet and fall for each other. The only downside is that they don’t know it’s them.

a/n: okay, let's hope this gets a little bit more love

masterlist  chapter 1  chapter 2  chapter 3

☆.｡.:*

Sometimes men were such idiots to y/n. It didn't help that she grew up with vipers that were disguised as men. She really did want to keep the good intentions but with the view in front of her, it was difficult.

She sat opposite to Willopp, his hands resting upon a skinned fawn and a devilish smile hung on his lips.

"Did you have to bring me to this," y/n spat, she tried to keep her eyes on him and it was the first time she successfully did.

"You made a scene yesterday," Willopp chuckled, "I had to teach you a lesson," y/n's blood bubbled.

"You didn't have to pull me out of my duties and show me your sadistic way of hunting," she scoffed, almost gagging at the smell. Willopp stared at her as if she was a child.

"Ugh, women," Willopp spoke under his breath. y/n instantly felt her wrath rise inside her, she wanted to tell him off but she knew that wouldn't be the best idea so she bit her tongue.

In their first meeting, y/n tried to understand her soon to be husband. She tried to get to know him, she tried to love him but it was clear that he didn't want any of it that is except the crown that was supposed to be placed her head. To say that she hated him was an understatement, she absolutely loathed the man. If she could, she would kill him with her own hands but she had to make choices that aided her and not plotted her demise.

As soon as the carriage pulled up to the gates, y/n literally fled out of the carriage and into the safety of her large home. She hated how the halls echoed and left her to only her thoughts but other instances, like these, she adored the place she called home.

Back at the carriage, Tom went to greet the royal couple in hopes to discuss trading with the Princess herself but all he saw of her was her dress flowing behind her as she fled.

"Ah King Tom, help me carry my beautiful hind!" Willopp called out to him. This was the last thing Tom needed but he knew to put on a show for the Archduke if he was in any hopes to continue his relationship with y/n. Tom stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the carcass of the fawn on the bonnet of the carriage.

"Is that-" Tom uttered speechlessly.

"A baby deer," Willopp responded flatly as if he was fed up with Tom's reaction. "You hunt all the time don't you, Your Majesty." Willopp was right, Tom did go hunting quite a bit. He didn't like it but Tom tried to only kill animals that were nuisances or threatening but to kill and even to skin a faun was out of his comfort zone.

"Oh yes but never seen a kill like this before," Tom spoke as if he was impressed with Willopp's action but in reality, Tom tried to hold back his gags.

Willopp sighed proudly, "I know, I'm an excellent huntsman," Tom could see to coach men snickering as Willopp spoke, clearing indicating the lie he has just told. "Help me bring it in?" Willopp asked almost sweetly but Tom was quicker than the Archduke had intended.

"I need to find Princess y/n, royal business," Tom rushes to excuse himself and thankfully Willopp dismissed him with a sly look. With that, Tom shot off to try and find y/n in the never-ending hallways and in hopes to forget about that monstrous man.

☆.｡.:*

y/n sat at the large edge of her windowsill. Her legs sucked up to her chest as she stared outwards. She knew that she looked odd, but she liked the serenity of the landscape that her kingdom offered. She would at times sit there for hours in her own world as she forgot her problems and her pressures. Her hair was let free from the tight styles and perched softly on her shoulders, her corset had been loosened and her shoes were laying at the entrance of her room she was in complete and total bliss.

Tom was at the edge of the forest that blanketed the castle. His horse galloping quickly through the dense bush, Tom laughed loudly as he heard his two brothers and Harrison call after him to slow down. He wondered what he looked like, did he appeared childish or a dashing young man. Either way, his daydreaming seemed to slow him down because Harrison and the twins had officially caught up with him.

"Why do you have to do that every single time," Sam sighed angrily as he patted his horse gently as the animal caught its breath.

Tom smiled wickedly, "I can't have a moment alone can I?"

"You haven't had one since you were born," Harrison mocked him. Tom plucked an underripe apple and gently pegged it at Harrison.

"Didn't you need to discuss trading routes with Princess y/n?" Harry asked as the quartet started to pick up a pace and start riding back to the castle.

"I tried to," Tom sighed, remembering the chores that came with the title.

"What do you mean you 'tried to'?" Harrison queered.

"That imbecile Willopp had y/n running for the hills, didn't even get a word in," Tom seethed, he wondered if Willopp was a real person and not an unimaginably annoying devil sent by hell.

"She usually gives him a good fight though," Sam spoke with confusion mixed in.

"He had a skinned fawn with him," Tom told them grimly, "looked quite fresh," the group grimaced.

Tom hadn't even noticed that they had arrived back at the castle gates. A peaceful breeze settled over the pavilion, Tom didn't see a single person in discomfort or distress. Tom stared at the impressively large castle, his attention drifting over the endless amount of windows until his eyes met y/n through the stained-glass. Her focus directly on him, her eyes almost filling with lust and desire instantly as she watched him dismount his horse.

She didn't like how deep in love she was with him, her heart would race when someone mentioned his name and her breath would hitch in her throat when he passed her. Everything he did seemed like something straight out of God's handbook of how to be effortlessly handsome. The worse part about it all was that he knows, he fucking knows how he makes her swoon and he knows the effect that would come from y/n just from him being around her. As she stared lovingly at him, Tom caught her eye and an idea wriggled its way into his head.

Tom started to unfasten his vest, unbuckling the piece of clothing ever so slowly. He pulled off his royal navy coat along with the golden encrusted vest. The others looked at him strangely.

"What are you doing?" Harrison asked quietly into Tom's ear. Tom smirked widely as he gave y/n a quick glance.

"I'm getting hot," he responded politely. y/n scoffed at his remark, it not even that hot today yet he thinks stripping is going to help him cool off, the realisation hit her like a ton of bricks. He was doing this on purpose to rile her up.

The pearly white undershirt hung low on his figure, though everybody else around him would see no real interest in the view, y/n watched with hot cheeks and dirty thoughts as she tried to stifle the growing want in between her legs.

She suddenly felt guilt wrack her entire body, she had a fiancee, she couldn't be doing this. He wasn't the best man, that was a definite but they were set to wed any time now, she can't be pinning after another, younger, more handsome & more compassionate man. Jesus y/n get yourself together woman, she thought to herself as she tried to wipe her mind of Tom but it just couldn't seem to work.

This wasn't the first time y/n had thought about him in such ways, in ways that would have her executed for adultery. She needed to get herself under control, even if there was the smallest sliver that they could be together that wouldn't excuse herself from marrying Willopp. All she wanted in this world was to be able to wake up to Tom's basically flawless face every morning but God prosecuted that happiness from her.

Tom noticed y/n's sudden shift in mood. Her wanting stare turned into a saddened look, his heart ached for her. He knew the predicament that she was trapped in and he desperately wanted to free her but he couldn't do anything unless she made the first step. Their eyes locked for a second time, they both could sense the desperation in each other's eyes.

y/n lost it for a moment in those warm eyes of him. Tom did as well, he mind seemed to only focus on her and her dainty features and what they would look like on their children. Tom did a double take, he had only known y/n for a fortnight and he was already dreaming about their sons & daughters, what is happening to him?

"What are you looking at?" Harry asked softly as he craned his neck to try and match their eyesight, his comment snapped Tom out of his lovesick gaze.

"Oh nothing," replied as he broke the contact with y/n and joined the group as they headed deeper into the caste. She watched him walk off, on one hand, she was relieved that she didn't have to suffer because of Tom's attire but at the same time she desperately needs his eyes on her again.

She had never been looked at like that in her entire life and she knows she wants it more than air to breathe.

☆.｡.:*

y/n sat on the small couch in her father's room, scanning over official papers. She knew she would have to do this for when she ascends to the throne and to help her father with the royal commissions while he is bedridden. Her attention drifted over to his for a lingering moment.

Albert slept peacefully, his breathing sounded normal and he didn't squirm while he slept as y/n had always remembered him doing when she was a child. Though his face was pale and grim-like, his hair seemed to be dry and thin and dried vomit and saliva hung around his mouth. He definitely wasn't getting any better as she had hoped.

y/n stood from her position and slowly made her way over to her father's side. The shifting on the mattress awoke Albert.

"Hi dad, " she almost whispered as her thumb stroked his velvet-clad thigh. Albert stuffed a cough.

"Hello, sweetheart, " he sputtered out. y/n gave him a weak smile as she took notice to his fatigued feature. He didn't look like himself at all, she could even recognize him, it scared her.

"How are you feeling today?" y/n asked softly as she went to place the back of her hand to his forehead. Her father instantly turned sour at the mention of his health.

"I have no clue," Albert sighed heavily, y/n felt her heart drop into her stomach. "Neither do the doctor apparently," he chuckled delicately, she tried to laugh along with him but it was difficult for her to place her happiness infront of her breaking emotions.

"Well at least your not getting worse," she tried to turn the conversation around, she couldn't mourn for her father until there was something to mourn. She went to speak again when a soft knock echoed through the room. "Come in," y/n called out sweetly.

A young woman came in, her head low and was wearing the maid's uniform, "Your royal highness, King Tom wishes your presence," she spoke almost giggled but she simply dismissed it as that the woman had heard maid's gossip.

"Well tell him I will be a moment," she huffed lightly, the woman stared up quickly almost desperately needing her to leave right this second.

"He requests you as soon as possible," the woman told her quietly afraid that she was going to get in trouble for speaking back to the Princess. y/n rolled her eyes and stood up from the bed. "He's in the sparring room your royal highness

"Alright, keep an eye on my father," she commanded, the woman nodded curtly and y/n made her way out. As she paced down the vast halls, she wondered why he requested to see her if he was in the sparring room, he would probably be in the middle of the match or just finishing one.

She knocked harshly on the large doors, she heard small permission and almost stumbled back with the sight of Tom. His hair was ruffled and framed his chiselled face, his pecks spasmed from the previous workout and his toned stomach glistened with sweat. "Ah Princess what are you doing here?" his voice hoarse through harsh breaths making her stomach do flips.

"You requested to see me," she chuckled slightly. Tom groaned slightly as he wiped the excess sweat off his face.

"I ask to see you in an hour after I got presentable for you," Tom frustratedly spoke as he dismissed his sparring partner. y/n watched as his muscles tensed and felt herself almost drool over him. Sadly she knew she would have to leave him and come back to a more clothed but nonetheless handsome Tom.

"Well I will join you later then," she spoke happily trying to mask her sexual frustration. Unfortunately for her, Tom noticed her flushed cheeks and wondering eyes and quickly caught onto her.

"Oh don't worry about it now," Tom smirked widely, "you're here now," Tom spoke slowly as he combed his fingers through his somehow always silky hair. y/n felt her heart pick up a pace and her mouth instantly became dry.

"Oh how good," she whispered to herself as she secretly squeezed her thighs together to try to dismiss her arousal. She was sure she looked like a blushing school girl who had a crush on an older boy, she felt almost embarrassed by her body's deceit against her but she couldn't dwell on her feelings. "Let's start shall we,"

It had been an hour of discussion. The room began to get hotter, her dress started to stick to her body and Tom seemed to sparkle with heat. She began to remember their shared night together, as his top that he had added started to outline his ever-bulging skin. The way his fingers danced over her skin, their bodies combining as one and how he breathed into her mouth as he pounded her into the bed. y/n allowed her eyes to drift over to his arm, watching it clench and stretch, she unknowingly placed the edge of the pen in between her teeth, moaning quietly to herself.

"What 'cha looking at princess, " Tom chuckled darkly as he leant in, his breath wafting over her already unbearably hot face.

"N-nothing, " she stuttered, God what was she becoming?

"Are you sure?" he asked again. His brown eyes darken with desire as he stepped closer to her. y/n tried her best to keep her composure as he watched her intently.

"Of course," she muttered quietly, her eyes kept travelling to the same spot that got her in trouble, to begin with. Tom wasn't an idiot, he knew what he was doing. Though he had asked for her later on, in hopes that a shower from him would get her worked up but this seemed to be going just as swimmingly. He made sure that the shirt he was currently wearing was too tight for him an that he did every possible thing to direct her attention to him.

Tom never broke eye contact with her as he somewhat strutted around the table to meet her heaving body. y/n jumped in her seat when she peered down at him on his knees, lifting her dress up over her legs ever so slightly, kissing the skin leisurely. His brown eyes burned into her cheeks as his fingers trickled over thighs. Before she knew it her dress was lifted her hips and his face was inches away from her aching core. "Do you want this?" he asked huskily, Tom stared intently at her, the only thing stopping him from devouring her was the thin lining of her tights.

"Y-yes," she stammered as she felt his breath waft over her heat. Tom didn't waste a second sliding his hands underneath her ass and tearing her tights open and quickly licking a long strip through her wet fold making y/n shudder. Tom's lips sucked softly at her clit making sure to flick the sensitive bud every so often. He slipped one of his hands from under her ass, he dipped a digit into her slowly. Her fingers tangled themselves into his slicked back hair, pushing him further into her wet core.

"Another one, " she moaned breathlessly, Tom peered up at her in disbelief still keeping the rhythm of the pumps of his fingers in her tight walls. Tom didn't argue though, quickly inserting another finger stretching her snug pussy. God did he miss this, the feeling of her contracting around him as she stifled moans surpass her lips, her squirming body throbbing for him to do more, her fragrant perfume that would never fail to excite him in more than one way, the way her hair would fall over her contorting face making her look absolutely angelic in his eyes. To say that he was completely and utterly in love with her would be an understatement.

y/n lifted her legs so that the underside of her knee caps were resting on his damp shoulders. She felt the familiarly gorgeous feeling of her approaching orgasm bubble inside her, she went to open her mouth to tell him but her words failed her as he picked up the pace of his pumping. "I know doll," his voice hoarse as he parted himself from the drug that was her sweet juices for a hot moment before delving back in, making sure to secure his grip on her. And at that, y/n came. She lost her vision for a moment as she brought her hand up to her lips and bit harshly on the skin to cancel the pornographic moan that would've surpassed her lips if she didn't, she threw her head back so violently she thought she snapped her neck for a moment. Her legs slipped from Tom's broad shoulders as the pleasure waves racked through her already quivering legs.

Tom stood up and immediately crashed his lips on her, y/n wrapped her arm around his neck quickly bringing him in closer. She whimpered softly at the taste of herself on his tongue. Tom slid in between her already parted legs, his clothed groin rubbed up against her exposed dripping core causing electric shock though y/n's body and a slight wet patch. Tom's hands went to undo her corset that sat tightly around her waist but y/n's hands gripped at his wrists firmly.

"Not here," she whispered through her heated kisses, "not now," y/n ripped her lips from his. Tom looked at her through the sun-soaked panels. Her face was red, flushed and dazed, her lips were slightly agape as sweet sounding whimpered slid through, her eyes were hazy and full of post-sex glow. Tom's calloused hands placed themselves on her hot cheeks, his thumb circling the skin gently. Their eyes met and for a second the both of them forgot their problems, forgot their worries, forgot their burdens. y/n genuinely saw what she would only hope as their distant shared future. Unfortunately, their trance of pure love was broken with a curt knock at the door. Tom granted entry and the last person the both of them wanted to see came through the door.

"My sweets, the maids told me you'd be here," Willopp spoke cheerfully, an obvious facade both Tom and y/n had no trouble looking through. "I brought you some tea," he said this time taking notice to their mixed appearances, Tom's hair was ruffled and y/n looked as if she had just seen God.

"Oh goody," she smiled sweetly, but quickly sneered at the small cup of tea infront of her having no intention of drinking. "I'm not in the mood for tea at the moment but maybe his majesty would like some," she offered to Tom, he was going to decline but it seemed Willopp was adamant on getting the princess to drink.

"I insist," he said a little more darkly than all of them wanted, Willopp quickly caught wind of his sudden shift in mood and laughed loudly, "Or I could just pour it out, I make horrible teas," he giggled anxiously. "We should be going."

y/n nodded sadly as she stood up from her seat but almost instantly fell the floor, she peered up at Tom who was eyeing her with a wide, prideful smirk. She saw Willopp confused face and rushed to blurt out, "Must be dehydrated," she smiled weakly before she regained her posture and joined her fiancee.

Little did she know, Willopp had bigger plans. He would kill her with or without evidence of her affair, with or without blood on his hands. All he knew was that she was unfit to rule and sought to give himself her title. He had better tricks up his sleeve.

☆.｡.:*

please let me know what you think!

tags: @spider-strange-iron-loki @nkjktk @smexylemony @hollandechart @justmesadgirl @choke-me-sweet-pea @thesisterofthedevil @musicandbokkslovingweirdo @jackiehollanderr @avatarkyoshithewarrior @thebadassbitchqueen @sweetest-sorrow @pignolithecookie @indieparker @lawrysawry @ladyblablabla @voidtrixie @chingonaconcha @vixxie @keithseabrook27 @captainpeggy40 @tomshufflepuff @loxbbg @spooder-moon @good-vibes-and-glitter @parkeret @dark-night-sky-99 @tomhncharliep @tomblrholland @lou-la-lou @scxrletwitches @blueoceanwavez @honeymoonparker @spider-mendes @sensitivetradegy @usuallyweepingnacho @americasmarauders @megzdoats @josierosie @mad-the-all-powerfull @i-lost-my-shoe-down-a-drain @tomsmelanin @princess-chocolate-drop @k-n-e @sspider-parker @laurenicochran @karlitabi-rrito @cottonismydream @tiredbeanwithadream @avenirectioner

[ask-chaos-kin]

Chaotic Adventures in Babysitting Chapter 5

This chapter is by far the longest being over 6000 words.  Co-written with @royalbabble

“Alright, where do ya wanna start looking?” Pancakes asked, looking around as the two Freaks exited out of The Centerpiece. 

“Lets see if we can find a map first, we can estimate from there where she could have spawned in,” Roseflame started to look around at the people nearby, “Even though everyone else seems to just know where they want to go,” She shook her head a moment, there was no telling where Rose could be. 

“Um...Yeah I don’t know how much luck we’re gonna have with finding a map around here,” Pancakes said, turning to the large swaths of Partygoers that wandered about. 

“I guess, just start walking like they do and hopefully we find her? I mean, everyone so far has told us it’s near impossible to get hurt here,”

“I guess,” Pancakes muttered, “They said she was halfway across the carnival, and that Medic said the Infirmary was about that same distance, so maybe she’s somewhere around there?” Pancakes suggested. 

“Maybe, let’s go,” 

The two Freaks set off, going in whichever direction they could that could possibly lead to the Infirmary. As they ambled along, they quickly found themselves smack dab in the middle of the celebrations. Partygoers set off fireworks with reckless abandon, they crowded around several rides ranging from Rollercoasters to Teacups, they filed into building after building to witness whatever was inside, food and drinks were being offered left and right, and the atmosphere was enough to quickly brighten Pancakes and Roseflames moods. 

“Dude! THEY HAVE A TILT-A-WHIRL!” Roseflame exclaimed in glee.

“Oh damn that thing is huge!” Pancakes gasped, watching in bewildered delight as the giant attraction flashed with intricate and vibrant lights. 

“Come on! Let’s go try out the rides!” She grabbed Pancakes arm and started to pull him to the Tilt-A-Whirl. They approached the large crowd that was in line for the Tilt-A-Whirl and watched as the last batch of Partygoers exited the ride, laughing and all very much dizzy. The Partygoers running the ride-A RED Soldier and a BLU Demoman-happily guided the Partygoers in line into the ride. As Pancakes and Roseflame gleefully piled inside the attraction alongside the other Partygoers, a golf cart drove by, driven by a BLU Engineer with a BLU Scout beside her, a young girl sat in between them. 

“Wait, is that Rose?” Roseflame asked as they got in their Tilt-a-whirl pod.

“What? Did you see her?” Pancakes questioned, looking out from inside the Tilt-A-Whirl, seeing nothing but the massive crowds of Partygoers going about their partying. 

“I saw a golf cart drive by! There’s a BLU Engie driving while a BLU Scout was riding passenger with him. I could have sworn I saw someone else riding between them” Roseflame said trying to find the cart. Unfortunately, the ride started before the two could look anymore.

***

“Any sign of them?” The Scout asked their partner as they drove around the plaza.

“Not yet,” The Engineer sighed, “They may very well have already moved on from The Centerpiece,”

“Who knows. They might have tried to go outwards to try and find her,” the Scout stated, still keeping an eye out for anyone who could possibly be the ones she came in with. Rose looked around at all the rides and gawked at the lights and sounds. She hadn’t seen anything like it before. 

The Engineer suddenly stopped the cart and leaned out to wave over a RED Sniper that was walking with a crowd towards one of the many vibrant attractions.

“Hey! Have you seen the other two outsiders around here?” The Engineer asked as the Sniper separated from the crowd and approached the cart.

“Roseflame and Pancakes? No, haven’t seen ‘em,” The Sniper informed, “If it helps any I did hear around that they just left The Centerpiece a few minutes ago, so they shouldn’t be too far away from here. Y’know, provided they didn’t hitch a ride on one of the trolleys,” The Sniper said, punctuating his words by pointing above him at a trolley that flew by on one of the many intersecting rails that hung above the carnival. 

“Damn, thanks though. If you see them, tell them that Rose is with a BLU engineer and a BLU Scout,” The Scout said before the three continued forwards.

“If we can’t find Pancakes and Roseflame, Jester can at least teleport them all out together once they get back,” The Engineer suggested as an alternative. 

Rose pulled herself up to the dashboard to look out amongst the giant amusement park.  Crowds bustling everywhere, music playing all around, the delectable scent of food filled the air, life was a huge party here. She wanted to join in on the party and get on some of the rides and have fun but she’d have to slink away from the two in BLU. She scanned the attractions around her and spotted a ring toss. Several stuffed animals were hung above the challenge as prizes for all to see. There was her chance to get away. If she could distract these two with the attraction, she could sneak away and join everyone else in the festivities. She tugged on the BLU Engineers clothes while pointing at the ring toss. The Scout looked at the young girl and then to the ring toss.

“Want us to win you something?” The Scout asked her. She gave an excited smile and nodded energetically.

“Ah, I don’t see why we can’t play a few games,” The Engineer remarked. She pulled up beside the attraction and climbed out of the cart and helped Rose out. 

Rose walked with them to the ring toss game and waited for the perfect moment to run off. As the Scout and Engi began playing, she slunked off towards one of the trollies and slipped in undetected amongst the bustling crowd. By the time the Scout and Engie realized she was gone the trolly had already begun its trip to its destination. 

Rose climbed into one of the cushioned seats and peeked out beyond the window and watched in wonder as the fantastical amusement park zoomed by, the trolley lifting up and away to ride one of the highest rails in the park. 

***

Pancakes and Roseflame stumbled out of the Tilt-A-Whirl, dizzy and lightheaded from the ride. 

“Your ass was gripping the handle bar so hard,” Roseflame was laughing at Pancakes reaction to the ride. While he had been gripping the handle bar with his life, she was laughing like a maniac while the ride had spun them around at what could only be described as terminal velocity. 

As the two staggered their way out from the ride, they caught sight of the Engineer and Scout that had driven by right before the two Freaks had boarded the Tilt-A-Whirl. Before Pancakes could say anything Roseflame grabbed his wrist and rushed over to the two Partygoers, hoping that she had been right to think Rose was accompanying the two. 

“Hey! Excuse me!” Roseflame called out to the Partygoers, Pancakes righting himself so he wasn’t being dragged. The Engineer spun around to face the two Freaks and grabbed the Scout he with and approached Pancakes and Roseflame through the crowd. 

“Please tell me you have or at the very least had Rose with you,” Roseflame pleaded in a slight panic.

“She was with us, she wanted to play ring toss or at least wanted one of the toys on it,” The Scout started, hooking a thumb to the ring toss game behind him, “But then we turn around and she’s gone! We were kind of hoping she was going to you two,” Roseflame groaned out a ‘no,’ running her hands through her scalp. On the bright side she and Pancakes didn’t black out again.

“Do you have any idea where she might have run off to?” Pancakes asked.

“Nope, not a clue,” The Engineer admitted tiredly. 

“Hmm, lets see. Chaos and Anthony talked to me the night before she came about their family. They travel a lot…” A loud braking sound ripped through the air and cut Roseflame off. She jerked her head around and saw a trolley come to a halt and unload its passengers. Roseflames face lit up as a lightbulb went off in her head, “That’s it! She knows what a Trolly is! She had to take one!” She exclaimed as she watched another group of Partygoers boarded the braked trolley.

“Well come on then, let’s each take one and meet each other at The Centerpiece in about half an hour, that should give us enough time to look around the landing zones and see if we can find her,” The Scout started towards one that was southbound, Roseflame took one going westbound, The engineer took Northbound, leaving Pancakes heading eastbound.

***

Roseflame got off her trolley and started her search for the missing child. She stopped a few Spies to ask if they had seen her, all responding with no, but assuring that they would keep an eye out for her. While Roseflame searched the area and bustled her way through the energetic crowds and packed pathways, she couldn’t help but be stopped by a game with a very specific toy hanging up as a prize. A mini Jester plush.

“Rose would love that. As much as I want to call it egotism. I don’t know Jester well enough to say so,” She looked at the game she’d have to play to win it. A dunking game of some sort. A Demoman was perched inside the tank, a small target propped up next to him with several scratches and dents in it from repeated tries by other Partygoers to knock him into the water. She thought for a moment, then decided to try her hand at the game. She was a Scout after all.

“Aw, too bad sir. Care to try again?” The Medic operating the game offered to a Soldier who had run out of tennis balls to chuck. 

“No thanks. I got to get to The Mirror Mansion soon. I’ll be trying again tomorrow!” The Soldier assured, stepping out of line. Roseflame sidestepped out of the Soldiers way as he rushed over to a trolley that was already beginning to lift up to carry its passengers away to their next destination. 

“Would you like to try your hand at this game miss?” The Medic suggested as Roseflame stepped up. 

“I don’t see any harm in trying,” She couldn’t think of much else to say. She wasn’t used to being around so many people, she figured distracting herself would help, “What do I have to do to win?” She asked.

“You just have to throw these balls at the target. If you can knock my friend over there into the water within 3 throws, you win the plush Jester right up there,” The Medic said briskly, pointing up the the Jester plush hanging nearby above the rest of the prizes. She nodded,

“Challenge accepted,” She stated and grabbed the tennis balls and looked at the target, she figured it would be as rigged as normal so she had to put her all into it. She aimed for the target and threw with all her might. It hit too far to the right of the target, at least it was only the first throw. She aimed again and put slightly more force into her second throw, only for it to bank left and miss again.

“I am not as good at this as I thought,” She mumbled to herself as she focused on her third try. With a deep sigh, she threw the tennis ball at the target. She hit the target dead on and dunked the Demo into the water. The Demo swam back up to the seat, laughing while trying to spit out the water.

“Ey! Ya done it lass!” The Demo cackled, climbing back onto his perch. She let out her own little laugh in response.

“Guess I did,” She righted herself from her position, grinning. 

“Alright, you dunked him in three throws! Here ya go miss,” The Medic laughed. He went over and picked the Jester plush from its perch and gently handed it to Roseflame. 

“Nice, Thank you,” She then continued on her way and ducked in and out of crowds. How she would find Rose in this madness she didn’t know. She was ready to stop and consult some of the Partygoers on where she could find a map when the most beautiful thing caught her attention.

 A Greysexual flag ready for the taking, she just had to pop 5 balloons to get it...

***

The Engineer weaved in and out of the large and loud swaths of people, excusing herself whenever needed. Thankfully, his status as an Operator instead of a normal Partygoer granted her a bit more authority to ask others to kindly move out of his way whenever needed. As she passed by another large group of Partygoers, one of the nearby vendors noticed her and waved him over,

“Need a new Bigender flag?” They asked.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m a little busy at the moment. I’ll be sure to pick it up when I come back around though!” She called. They nodded as two more Partygoers showed up, a Scout and a Sniper. The Sniper selected a Panromantic Flag while the Scout accompanying them selected a transgender flag.

“Jester never fails to amaze me,” The Engineer said with a grin. She ran up to one of the trolleys that was about to take off and quickly jumped the rails on the back of the trolley and ducked inside. He noticed that quite a few other Partygoers where starting to look for the lost child, leaning over to look out the windows to the carnival below, or asking one another if they’d seen a small girl. On the bright side it was nearly impossible to get hurt here. Would not mean that Rose wouldn’t be scared out of their mind until someone found wherever she respawned however. The Engineer stood up and took a seat beside a Heavy wearing a large sweater who also appeared to be searching for Rose.

“You think Jester is going to be mad?” The Heavy asked, turning to the Engineer.

“Definitely. You know they don’t like people invading their privacy,” The Engineer remarked.

“Strange to think a kid could make Count Jester mad,” A Sniper who was also looking for Rose remarked in response. 

“Nah, it’s not the kid that Jesters gonna be mad over. It’s gonna be the other two, Pancakes and Roseflame,” The Engineer corrected. 

“True, very true. Will be a very strange sight indeed,” a Spy nearby commented as they took off their hat. “I was the first person who met them after they came in, strange to think that they were even able to get in without Jesters permission in the first place,” The Spy stated looking out the window. They were definitely too high to identify people now. The Engineer leaned over to peer out the window himself. Hopefully her Scout friend and Pancakes would have better luck in finding Rose.

***

“Alright, we got the final person. Soldine how’s the chopper holding up?” Chaos asked through the radio as she unlocked the BLU teams Heavy from their prison cell.

“Final chopper is bound to leave in 5 minutes, get them up here ASAP,” Soldine responded.

“On it. Jester, How well distracted is Nightmare?” She switched her Radio feed to them.

“PRETTY DAMN DISTRACTED,” Jester yelled over the radio, the sound of explosions and fire booming in the background, “GET OUT OF THERE QUICK, I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH LONGER I CAN KEEP THIS CREEP ON MY TAIL!” 

“I won’t be too much longer. Pure’s getting everyone else out while I handle this,” She put a hand on the Heavy’s shoulder and teleported them out of the prison and nearby to the helicopter, which was tucked away just outside Nightmares lair. Soldine guided the Heavy to the chopper after taking them from Chaos. The two exchanged thanks and she teleported to a hiding space in the nearby woods just a few yards away from where the helicopter was. The Chopper took off and was on its way back to HECU headquarters.

“Your good to bail out now Jester, we’re heading out,” Major Scout Guy called on the radio before getting out of range.

“THANKS!” Jester yelled. There was a large puff of blue smoke over Nightmares lair and Jester booked it to Chaos’ hiding place, shrinking themselves down small enough to fit in a pocket. They rocketed down to Chaos and shot themselves into her satchel to hide. Brutal and Pure both put themselves at the forefront of the Freaks hiding in the underbrush, ready to fight in the event that Nightmare came bursting through his lair in pursuit. Pure and Brutal watched intently as Nightmare stepped out of his demonic nest, huffing and puffing from the runaround Jester had given him. He was visibly furious and looked just about ready to burn the entire forest right there and then.

“If there’s anything you’re good at, it’s making demons angry,” Spyper joked, readjusting the position of his kukri. Jester beamed from the satchel. 

“I think right now might be a good time for us to GTFO. Pure you got Brutal right?” She looked to her adoptive father while keeping an eye on Nightmare Medic. Pure raised his hand and discreetly summoned a shimmering portal next to him before giving an affirming nod to Chaos, “Spyper, your vans ready to go right?” She now looked to Spyper while scooting out of the way of Nightmare Medic’s sight, ducking into a bush.

“It’s already cranked, we’re ready when you are,” Spyper whispered, Intelligent Heavy looming beside him.

“Alright, I’ll see you guys at my base. Good luck,” She looked back up to the helicopter, which was already several miles out. Her team had booked it out of danger when the last BLU was on the helicopter, “Ready Jester?” She looked down to her satchel. The tiny Freak nodded and raised their hands to teleport them away. 

“Just give us the word,” They squeaked, their voice much higher pitched than usual.

“Alright, let’s go,” She gave everyone the signal for everyone to abscond from the area and quickly pulled her satchel up to her chest. 

Pure and Brutal were the first to leave, briskly passing through the portal and landing safely on the other side. Spyper and Intelligent Heavy were second. Spyper teleported the two of them off to his van and wasted no time in fleeing the area. 

And lastly was Jester and Chaos. Chaos could teleport on her own, but Jester could teleport them over far greater distances than she could without tiring. With a burst of blue, sparking smoke, Jester carried themselves and Chaos off back safely to the base. 

Upon returning to the base, everyone found Jesters artifact laid haphazardly on the sofa, guarded by Chaos’ beloved cat, Ratchet. Pure and Brutal was the first to enter the base to find the feline sleeping, curled around said artifact. Chaos and Jester followed suit, and Spyper and Intelligent Heavy landed outside. Chaos picked up her cat and allowed them to climb onto her shoulder.

“Where is everyone? I’d thought those three would be having breakfast by now,” Chaos wondered aloud, looking around to try and find them.

“I’ll tell you exactly where they are,” Jester huffed, stomping up to the sofa and scooping up their artifact. They turned the item over in their hands and peered at the rose tinted gem. 

“You’re artifact?” Pure queried, “I thought that only you could let people inside it,”

“I can. But-” They began, picking up the now empty cube that they had given Pancakes, “My magic can still be used to access the artifact. But since I wasn’t around to actually give permission for it, my artifact ‘glitched,’ so to speak. So now Pancakes, Roseflame, and Rose are trapped inside at the moment with no way out,” Everyone turned to Chaos after they heard the cat jump off her shoulder and onto the floor, Her face read every hallmark of panic until she started to collapse. Pure quickly shot behind her and kept her head from hitting the ground.

“Did you HAVE to add that last part in?!” Pure gasped as he got Chaos to the couch.

“I mean you kinda have to know what’s going on,” Jester said with a shrug. Pure sighed while Brutal laughed at the situation, he hadn’t seen Chaos drop like that in a while.

***

Rose wandered around the carnival, trying to find something to do. She saw the Teacups ride and quickly went to get in the bustling line. She squeezed her way through to see how long she would have to wait before boarding the ride, and she was relieved to find that she would be up next for the Teacups. 

The Partygoers that had been on the ride previously staggered away, dizzy and laughing. The Operators of the ride-A BLU female Heavy and a RED male Soldier-led everyone into the attraction and wished them a hearty time. When Rose came up to the two Partygoers, the Heavy smiled warmly at her and hoisted her up beside a RED Spy and BLU Sniper in one of the centermost Teacups. 

“Isn’t that the girl we’re supposed to be looking for?” The Soldier asked the Heavy.

“Maybe, doesn’t mean we can’t let her enjoy the ride though,” The Heavy responded with a handwave. She brought down the guardrail and rejoined her companion to get the ride started.

The two started the ride and watched as one of the groups of Scouts did nothing but go as fast as humanly possible, spinning fast enough to make any normal person throw up their lunch. The Spy and Sniper that Rose was with went at a relatively slower paced, but made the teacup spin as fast as she liked. She was smiling and laughing the whole time, and all around it was a good time for everyone. 

As the ride spun round and round and round, Pancakes ran by, unaware that Rose was whirling around at top speed just a few attractions away. He sprinted past another group of Partygoers and shouldered through them, trying to get by as quickly as possible.

“C’mon c’mon c’mon! Of all the places we could have gotten lost in it’s a fucking amusement park! Goddammit-” He muttered to himself. He came out the other end of the crowd and continued sprinting. Once he reached some kind of roller coaster, he skidded to a halt to catch his breath. He sucked in air through his teeth as sweat poured down his back and face, “Jesus christ this is gonna take me forever-” He wheezed, bracing an arms on his legs, “Goddammit, if I had a map this would be so much easier!”

“Well howdy there, need a map?” He heard an Engineer call to him from his right. They had a few maps to give out, “All you gotta do is win this here game. Simple enough for you city boy?” They teased.

“Why would I need to win a game? You’re literally selling them!” Pancakes protested, watching in silent fury as another Partygoer passed by and picked up a map as they went without any complaints from the Engineer while they continued to smugly grin.

“Well, wouldn’t have to if you weren't so rude there,” They continued to smirk, “All you have to do is hit this little ‘ol button and have that little metal piece hit the bell, easy right?” They said, pointing to a strongman game next to their booth.

“Fuck this really is Jesters world…” Pancakes swore under his breath. 

“Well? Gonna try your luck?” They asked smirking at him. Yep, definitely Jesters world.

“Fine. And I’ll do it with my own hammer,” Pancakes hissed. He extended a hand out and his colorful weapon popped into existence. Grumbling, he stomped up to the strongman man and took a quick glance up to see how much force he’d have to put into his swing. He grumbled and dug his feet in and brought his hammer above. With a shout, he brought his weapon down as hard as he could onto the pressure plate. With a loud /clank, the measure of the strongman game shot up about halfway to the bell before pitifully falling back down to the pressure plate. 

“Ooh, too bad. Want to try again?” They teased. Pancakes scowled and raised his hammer again for another good wallop. Slamming his festive weapon down on the plate, the measure shot up again, just a bit higher this time, but still shy of the bell at the top. 

“Just a little stronger there, one more try,” They leaned against the guard rail, still grinning. Pancakes was starting to reach his boiling point. It had been a while since he last flipped his lid which meant quite a few things could happen if he let himself boil over and explode in rage. And that wasn’t even counting how Jesters world would react to that.

Gripping his warhammer until his fingers turned white, Pancakes swung the warhammer with all his might, putting behind it more force than was necessary to kill a human. One loud /BANG later and the metal piece slammed into the bell, making it ding loudly, announcing Pancakes’ victory. Pancakes felt a sense of relief wash over him.

“Finally,” He sighed as he got rid of his hammer. The Engineer laughed and smacked the countertop to their booth. 

“Now that’s what I call persistence!” They handed Pancakes the map of the world as they laughed. That’s when Pancakes noticed the badge clipped onto their overalls was the Non-Binary flag. It made him think about Jester and how upset or even mad they’ll be when they do find them in their world. 

Pushing those thoughts to the side, Pancakes unfolded the map and nearly tore it in two when he saw the layout of the world.

“Jesus Christ Jester,” Pancakes sighed, staring in gobsmacked frustration at the size of the park. Pancakes felt a tugging at his pant leg and looked down to find that the exact child he had been scouring the park to try and find was at his leg.

“I’m tired of walking, can you carry me?” She asked him like she never went off on her own in the first place. Pancakes stared down at Rose with a mix of confusion and frustration. He had been searching Jesters world for God knows how long, and then Rose just pops up next to him out of the blue like nothing had happened!? He swore this child was going to be a bigger pain than originally anticipated.��

He picked her up and carried her back to the trolley he had ridden in on. At least now he knew exactly where she was, even if he had to also read the map to find the right route of trolleys to travel on to get him back to The Centerpiece.

***

At The Centerpiece other Partygoers had started to calm down as the news spread that Rose was no longer lost and was with Ass Pancakes now. Roseflame met up with the Scout and Engineer at the drop off and pick up point at The Centerpiece, wearing her new flag as her own cape.

“Hey guys, any idea when Pancakes will be back here by?” Roseflame asked as she fixed her cape slightly.

“Shouldn’t be too long-” The Scout let out a hiccup, “Sorry, anyways he shouldn’t be long. According to the talk around this place he and Rose got on a trolley a minute or so ago, we just have to wait for them to show up,” They explained, his Engineer partner giving him a look.

“You participated in a drinking contest didn’t you?” She questioned. He remained silent but his expression spoke volumes. Another hiccup later confessed his suspicions, “Come on, we’re looking for a little girl lost in this world and you’re busy drinking yourself silly?” She sighed in disappointment, shaking his head, “Either way, Jester should be here soon to bring you three out of this world. But don’t expect them to be all friendly when they do”  She said. Roseflame chewed her lip and looked up at the many intersecting rails that hung above the park, searching for Pancakes. 

There! A trolley began to descend to the ground, Pancakes and Rose waving from one of the windows. Roseflame waved back to the two they approached the ground. Not long after the trolley arrived and Pancakes made his way over to the trio. The first thing he noticed was Roseflames ‘cape’, and the second thing was the sugar drunken Scout next to the Engineer.

“Are you kidding me?” Pancakes asked exasperatedly, “We’re looking for Rose all over this place, and you’re over here getting drunk off of sugar?!” Pancakes shouted, irritated. 

“I caved alright! I’m a Scout afterall! Can’t let people mock me for not participating,” They tried to defend themselves.

“We’re also still Partygoers, so…” The Engineer added with a shrug.

“Besides, not like you did much better at your job seeing as Rose is suddenly no longer with you!” He pointed to his side to reveal that Rose had wandered off again. Pancakes and Roseflame screamed at the top of their lungs in response.

“OH FUCK NOT AGAIN!!” Pancakes shouted, whipping around in every direction he possibly could to try and locate where Rose had roamed off to now. 

“THERE!” Roseflame pointed to the ferris wheel that loomed over them. Rose was climbing aboard while one of the engineers were repairing the fuse box. It wasn’t ready to be ridden! Pancakes and Roseflame tripped over themselves and each other as they made a mad dash to the ride, both waving and screaming frantically for Rose.

 “Why does it have to be the most dangerous things possible!?” Roseflame yelled as the two sprinted towards the ride. The Engineer at the fuse box turned to grab another one of their tools, and in doing so they hit the lever to start the ride. Pancakes and Roseflame screamed in terror as the wheel begin to lift Rose up and away, far out of their reach. 

“GET HER BACK GET HER BACK!!” Pancakes screamed, grabbing the Engineer by the collar and shaking them. 

“O-Ok hang on!” The Engineer spluttered. They staggered backwards towards the lever when Pancakes let go of them and they began to yank the lever back into its original position, but the lever didn’t budge from its place.

“We don’t have time for this!” Roseflame cried. She grabbed onto one of the moving carts and hopped off as soon as she got to one of the support beams where she could get to Rose’s cart. Pancakes followed swiftly after.

The Partygoers that were in the carts were all gobsmacked to find two Freaks trying to scale the ferris wheel, many of them even screaming in shock and terror when their carts were rocked by the two climbing upwards. Rose peered over the side of her cart to see Pancakes and Roseflame running up a support beam to try and get to her. She quickly scooted back into the cart and tried to close the window. Pancakes and Roseflame were mad at her, she just knew it! Rose struggled to close the window so she could hide from the two, but the window was thoroughly jammed in place. Rose panicked and peered back over the side. 

Everyone in the ferris wheel, down on the ground, or is passing trolleys gasped as a bright light appeared in front of the Ferris Wheel. Pancakes and Roseflame came to a halt to cover their eyes from the light. Rose was filled with curiosity at the strange and sudden display and started to peer out the window, sticking her torso and part of her legs out to see. As she crawled forward, she lost her balance and wasn’t able to pull herself back into the cart, Pancakes and Roseflame’s hearts jumped into their throats as they watched Rose tumble out of her cart. They both began hurling themselves from cart to cart and beam to beam, rushing towards the descending child in hopes one of them could catch her before she crashed into the ground below. 

In a rapid flurry of blue smoke and bright sparks, a stream of clouds scooped Rose up midfall and grabbed Pancakes and Roseflame in the same breath. Within seconds, the three were safely placed back down at ground level. 

Both Pancakes and Roseflame looked around, disoriented from the whole ordeal before looking at the cloud of blue smoke and sparks. Both gulped slightly as Jester emerged holding Rose in their arms, they appeared to be a mixture of worried, miffed, and upset.

The Engineer working the ferris wheel was still struggling to get it back into place. This caught Jesters attention momentarily, and they raised their hand up and snapped their fingers, the lever suddenly moving with ease, causing the Engineer to fall. With a huff, Jester returned their gaze to Pancakes and Roseflame.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Jester said with such coldness and firmness that it almost didn’t even sound like Count Jester. Then with a snap of their fingers and a flash of light, the four were standing in the living room of the base once again. Roseflame had to blink several times before she could tell they were out, and while she did, Pancakes stood forwards to try and explain the situation to Jester without Roseflame getting in trouble. After all it was his fault they had even got trapped inside, not hers.

“I tried to use your magic to access your artifact,” Pancakes admitted to Jester while rubbing the back of his neck, “I had no idea it would drag us all into it, or that it would freak out,” Pancakes said quickly, the look Jester was giving him very quickly boring into him.

“And why exactly did you need access to my artifact?” Jester asked coldly. 

“My phone was dead,” Chaos started to get up from her fainting just to hear that, her expression only read confusion.

“You couldn’t have just waited until we got back?” Jester asked, cocking an eyebrow, “You used my magic for a purpose outside of what was intended, you invaded my privacy, put yourselves in danger, and you could have very easily caused my world to glitch into this one!” Jester snapped, grabbing Pancakes by his collar, much to everyone's shock. 

“It’s not like I was trying to force it here! I was just trying to spy on you guys!” Pancakes cried, trying to defend himself.

“You still used my artifact without my permission or consent!” Jester snapped, “You could have used the base phone to call one of us instead of using my artifact!” 

“I didn’t know if I’d be able to reach you guys! I would have asked otherwise but I didn’t know!!” Pancakes was starting to choke from the force of Jester holding him up, Rose was getting scared of Jester by this point. Jester dropped Pancakes and quickly smacked him upside the head.

“Never touch my artifact again,” Pancakes fell with a loud thud due at the force of the smack. Chaos and Roseflame gave a collective hiss from the sound of the smack. Jester paid no mind to them and scooped up their artifact before storming out of the room, Spyper and Pure both staring after them. Pancakes laid motionless on the floor.

“Is he dead?” Rose asked peeking from behind Roseflame.

“I doubt it, but who knows with that smack,” Chaos answered, checking his pulse.

“Wouldn’t be too surprised if he jumped into his can right about now,” Brutal commented, walking over and lightly kicking Pancakes in the shoulder. He was knocked out cold, so Chaos put his can next to him. Almost automatically he went into the can to recharge himself, Chaos put him on a shelf so he couldn’t be bothered.

“Soldine and Major Scout Guy have returned with the captured BLU team, Nightmare Medic is reported back at his base without any hostages from the rescue mission. This is Agent Travis with your local HECU update,” Everyone could hear the TV.

“That. That is why he panicked,” Chaos explained to the others in the room, “right Abby?

“You guys were fighting Nightmare, I wanted to know what was up. His phone was dead because he was chasing off more aggressive Freaks to protect Rose, so we figured the mini-Jester could let us see what was going on, it was mostly my fault for mentioning it,” Roseflame explained. “Should I go talk to them?” She asked everyone.

“It would be best to let Jester cool off for a bit,” Intelligent Heavy said, picking up the now empty cube that Jester had given Pancakes, “They’ll be in their world for awhile, just leave them be until they come out,” 

“In that case, I’m out. I’ve been away for too long,”

“What the hell is that!?” Everyone turned to the TV, some sort of white creature with grotesque arms and a gaping mouth was attacking the HECU base.

“Case and point,” Roseflame dashed out the door while taking off her new flag to shove it in her bag. She then took off on her Winged Star, aiming for Evo City.

“Nothing can ever be normal can it?” Chaos sighed before turning to Rose, “you okay sweetie?” She asked Rose. She nodded, a bit shaken from Jesters outburst.

“Can we go for a drive aunt Lily?” She asked. Chaos looked to Pure and the others.

“Mind watching over my base while I go out driving with Rose?”

“We’ll keep an eye on things, don’t worry,” Intelligent Heavy assured, turning over the cube in his hands. 

“Thanks. I’ll be gone for a while. No offense but she needs to be around humans more than more freaks right about now,” Chaos picked up Rose and headed out of the base. The Freaks inside could hear a truck rev up a few minutes later, and Spyper watched as a black truck driven by Chaos headed off to the closest human majority city. 

“Well, just us now,” Spyper commented.

[wolfie-dragon-rider]

Director's cut for "Black as Night" chapter 5: Nightmares!

Alright then! It took me a while to get to this, but I’m doing it now! Thanks for asking! The chapter can be found HERE

Chapter 5, Nightmares, was the first true Hiccstrid chapter of the story. It established their (extremely awkward and painful) relationship after the incident, and makes both of them realize what Hiccup’s blindness will mean, both for Hiccup who can’t do a lot of things anymore, and for Astrid who will have to assist him from now on. 

It starts with Hiccup waking up in the middle of the night, having to go to the toilet. Hiccup had woken up briefly from the sedative-induced coma he had been in in the previous chapter, but back then his situation hadn’t sunken in yet. He was still too confused, too sleepy, and probably too high from the painkillers to be able to think about what happened. 

He wakes up with a (slightly) clearer head here, and while he now knows he’s blind (and can obviously see it for himself), he hasn’t truly realized the implications. He’s gonna have to learn the hard way as he navigates his way to the outhouse. 

I tried to show Hiccup’s analytical mind here early on. It runs through possible scenarios quickly, considering where he could be.

“He sat up, determined he could do this, and prepared to get up from the bed, when he realized he had no idea where he was. Was he in his own house? Gobber’s house? Gothi’s house? The Great Hall? He moved his hand over the wooden supports of the bed, and sighed in relief when he felt the familiar notches he had carved in there years ago. He was in his own bed, so he must be in his own house.”

Still, although he determines easily he must be in his own room, he can’t navigate it easily. He stumbles over a chair immediately, and nearly falls off the open loft (I now realize I changed the way his room is situated somewhere along the way, as it became a more private closed room in Blind Spots). 

Still, he makes his way outside, determined to not let his disability stop him, an attitude that receives knocks throughout the story, but that he never truly abandones. 

We now get a POV change to Astrid, who is having a nightmare. This nightmare scene was one of the first scenes I planned, and I still have a clear picture of it in my head. I’m very proud of it, and personally think it’s well-done despite how cheesy nightmare scenes can be. 

One thing that might not be obvious for a casual reader, but what I was very careful about, was that, from the moment Astrid hurt Hiccup to when she finds him later this chapter, Astrid’s fears and worries have been entirely about herself. We see it very clearly in this nightmare. 

She is afraid that her father will be angry with her, saying she’s not a true warrior. She is scared her mother will be disappointed in her, not for hurting someone, but for breaking a promise. She is scared her ‘friends’ (and I use the term very loosely, I don’t think Astrid has a closer bond than neighbors with them in this AU) will think her pathetic and weak. Will think that she is worse than Hiccup. She is more ashamed of throwing up at the sight of Hiccup’s wounds than she is about actually inflicting those wounds. 

She is afraid of Stoick’s reaction and how it will impact her. Will she be exiled? Executed? Tortured? Hiccup hurting her back in the final part of the nightmare is the solidification of this fear, that she will be hurt the way she hurt him.

Nothing in this nightmare is about what she actually did to Hiccup and how it will impact him. It’s the same in chapter 4. She hasn’t had the chance to process what she has done, but at this point she feels fear, not guilt. Shame because she broke her promise, not because she crippled someone for life. Astrid is, at this point, a cold person, hardened by her father’s rigorous training and her sense of duty. 

Still, she starts to feel disgust at Hiccup’s face, the face she created. Hiccup wasn’t the only one traumatized by the events of that day. Astrid will never forget that face as long as she lives. 

But she doesn’t want to think about that. Astrid is feeling more emotions about this than she’s had in years. I think Astrid at this point (in the movies as well) is someone who expresses any emotions she has through anger and violence. She has never learned to express them any other way. She doesn’t know how to identify what she’s feeling, if it’s guilt or shame or anger or fear. This incident opened the floodgates and gave her feelings that she cannot express through anger, because anger was what caused this incident to begin with. In a way, her snapping and hurting someone through her anger has now become a sort of trigger to her (we see this in chapter 12 when she punches Hiccup in the face and is immediately disgusted and repulsed with herself). 

So she does the only thing she can think of to deal with all this, which is running away, exhausting herself, anything to stop having to think about what happened.

POV change back to Hiccup, who is trying to find the outhouse. Here he is having a similar issue as Astrid, trying not to think too closely about what happened. Unlike her, he’s trying to avoid the emotions by thinking rationally about the problem at hand. Still, he gets lots in doubt and indecision, foreshadowing his later anxiety. 

The doubt overwhelmed his brain, and he started to feel dizzy. He desperately tried to visualize the hill, but without his eyes he found it was impossible. It felt like there was no hill, like he was standing in some black room, or floating in a sea of darkness. From his perspective he might as well be standing on a lone sea stack or in the heart of Rome. It would look exactly the same.

This is where I introduce the overarching metaphor of The Black Room. I nearly called the entire story The Black Room, actually, before deciding Black as Night was a better title. The black room was an extremely useful narrative tool for me, because it’s such a versatile visualization of what Hiccup is feeling. It can be a claustrophobic cell or an infinitely large empty desert. It can be a sea he’s drowning in or a maze he wants to navigate. I use it in a lot of ways, before finally giving it closure as Hiccup accepts Astrid with him in his black room in the final chapter. 

Now the conga line of hurting Hiccup begins. He falls painfully, rolls down the hill, and ends up in a mud pool. 

“The gods really do hate me,” Hiccup thought as he crawled out of the pool, his vest covered in mud. Desperately, he started crawling in a random direction, praying to any god he could think of to help him.

The gods seemed to think this was a very funny game, though. Hiccup crawled through what felt like a rarely used street, when he was startled by a raven loudly calling right next to him. He felt his pants become hot and wet as he jumped away from the noise.

Hiccup had never felt as pathetic as he did in that moment, realizing that he had soiled himself.

He dropped down on the ground, thinking about his predicament. He had no idea where he was. He was covered in mud and piss. He was fairly certain he hurt his head, and he could feel scrapes on his arms. It was the middle of the night, so nobody was around to help him.

This is Hiccup’s lowest point. At no point in the story, except perhaps when Stoick takes Toothless away, is Hiccup in such a lonely and pathetic position. This is the start of his journey, as he slowly, with the help of Toothless and Astrid, regains his dignity and capability. 

This is also where it truly sinks in what blindness will mean to him, what he won’t be able to do, how the village will react. Unlike Astrid, who turns her emotions into outward anger, Hiccup turns his emotions into inward self-hate. He thinks he’s pathetic, that he’s weak, that no one could ever care about a disgusting worm like him. Astrid desperately tries to deny that she’s a bad person, Hiccup almost embraces it. 

Like Astrid, who tries to rationalize what she did was okay because he was annoying, he tries to rationalize what happened to him by blaming himself. It’s a coping method to explain the fact that Astrid, a person he so admires, did something so horrific to him. 

Hiccup simultaneously begs for reassurance, someone who will help him and tell him things will be okay, someone who won’t call him weak, but is also sure that such a person cannot exist. The only person he can think of is his mother, but she is dead as far as he knows. So he cries, unable to express his emotions any other way. 

POV switch back to Astrid, who finds Hiccup on her desparate run. She initially tries to act like a warrior in response to the sound. It’s a way for her to reassure herself that she is still a good warrior like she wants to be. It’s a big part of her self-image, and her hurting Hiccup shattered it. She doesn’t know what she is anymore. 

She approaches Hiccup, thinking him utterly pathetic. However, she doesn’t judge him yet. When she reads the words he wrote in the dirt, she is actually surprised. She doesn’t think him useless, despite her rationalizations that he’s weak and deserved her lashing out at him. She’s also surprised because Hiccup always seemed cheerful and unaffected by the bullying, not at all depressed. 

Astrid suddenly remembered her conversation with Gobber the evening before. “I’d advice you to help Hiccup adjust to his new life,” he had said.“Show that you are a great warrior, but also a great Viking,” She hadn’t understood that remark at the time. Wasn’t a good warrior automatically a good Viking? But maybe being a Viking was about more than fighting dragons. Maybe that’s what her mother had been trying to tell her when she told her to play with the others.

She felt sorry now that she had only listened to her father’s advice, while ignoring her mother. She wished her parents were here now, so they could tell her how to deal with the helpless boy in front of her. Yesterday she would probably have left him there. She would have been disgusted by his weakness, thinking he should just grow up and stop being so weak.

Today, she wasn’t so sure.

This is Astrid re-evaluating her values for the first time. Until know, and for a while longer still, she practically worships her father. “Her father said it was so, and she wouldn’t contradict her father.” is a line from chapter 1. “…her father always said” is a constant line in her thoughts. Warriors don’t cry. Warriors are strong. That’s what her father says, so it must be true.

She had never imagined her father could be wrong, but here she feels something she’s not supposed to feel. She feels pity. She sees Hiccup here, utterly pathetic and knowing it’s not his fault. She cannot deny any longer that it’s her actions that put him in this position. She is to blame, not him. She knows her father would tell her that Hiccup is weak, that she should look after herself, that he’s too pathetic to look after. 

And she just can’t agree with this. She feels too much guilt and pain and empathy and anguish within her to abandon Hiccup here. She rationalizes that it’s part of her deal with Gobber, and for a large part it still is, but even now she’s already starting to help Hiccup because it’s the right thing to do, not because she’s ordered to. 

She starts talking to Hiccup, but he’s horrified someone saw him like this, and tries to run. It’s only when he’s cornered himself that he even starts to realize it’s Astrid, and even then he’s suspicious. She is the very last person he wants to see him like this. Despite what happened, he still has a crush on her. Still, he’s confused that she doesn’t act like he expected, with mockery and disgust. He lashes out, trying to get her to ‘break her act’, so to speak, and just get the bullying over with. 

She sighed and sat down next to him. Yesterday she would have hit him by now, angry that he would doubt her sincerity, but she knew that this wasn’t a time for punches. “Come on, Hiccup, we both know you need help right now. Will you at least tell me what happened?” she asked him.

He still seemed unsure, and he turned his face away from her.

“I’m not going to laugh, okay? I promise.” she tried, desperate to pierce this wall he was building around himself.

“Okay, fine. I woke up and I needed to go to the outhouse, but I couldn’t find it. I got lost, and then I fell into a mud pool, and then I wet myself because I got scared of a stupid raven. Happy now? Happy to see how useless I am?” he suddenly said with an angry tone, but she could hear his voice shaking near the end, filled with shame and sorrow.

She remained silent for a few seconds, then she stood up and grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” she told him.

He snapped his face towards her as his jaw fell. He was frozen for a few seconds, then he managed to produce a shocked “Why?”

Astrid awkwardly tries to build a connection without violence, while Hiccup projects his self-loathing onto her. The idea that she wants to help him is so foreign to his mind he can barely process it. As far as he knows, this girl has ignored him her whole life, and their only interactions have been filled with annoyance and disgust from her end. She has never offered to help him, and now, when he’s so pathetic, she does. He can’t understand it. In his shock he allows Astrid to lead him away. 

Finally she secretly erases the self-loathing words Hiccup wrote, wishing he wouldn’t think about himself like that. That’s the sign that despite all her “It’s just a job” rationalization she’s doing, she genuinely feels bad for Hiccup, and realizes that that is not a healthy mindset for him to have. She feels… not empathy yet, but sympathy for him. Something a strong warrior like her isn’t supposed to feel. 

The final POV change, back to Hiccup, as Astrid leads him to the hot springs for a bath. This is the big test for Hiccup in this chapter. Astrid has passed hers by reaching out to help Hiccup. Now he has to accept it. Trust is a vital part of their relationship in this story, and this is where it starts. 

Hiccup tries to cope once again with logical analysis, running through possible scenarios. He expects it to be a prank, that the other teens will ambush him. 

“Uhm. You’re going to need clean clothes. How about you take a bath and leave your dirty clothes here on the bank, and meanwhile I get some new clothes from your house? Are your clothes in your room?” she asked with that cheerful voice. It confused Hiccup. She was talking like this was some normal, everyday thing, like she was asking him to pass her the salt during dinner, or like they were discussing the weather.

But Astrid telling him to take his clothes off while she searched his room was definitely not an everyday occurrence.

Hiccup’s further confused by Astrid’s outward calmth here. He can’t tell what she’s thinking (honestly, neither can Astrid at this point). His still lingering crush, combined with teenage boy hormones, complicate things further, as the situation is awfully intimate. 

When he had cleaned himself up as best he could, he finally allowed himself to relax. For the first time that night he felt completely at ease. He still felt confused about Astrid’s behavior, and he was still shocked by his sudden blindness. But here, floating in the warm water, his terrifying black room had become a safe sanctuary, like there was nothing in the world but him and the pool.

“Hiccup? May I come closer?” Astrid’s voice suddenly asked, piercing the black walls around him.

This is another example of how the black room mirrors Hiccup’s emotional state, and how his blindness affects his perception of the world around him. 

Hiccup suddenly felt unsure. What if this was some big prank? What if Snotlout and the twins would ambush him as he climbed out of the pool? What if Astrid was really looking at him right now, preparing to laugh at his scrawny body?

But then he realized he couldn’t know that. He had no idea what was happening beyond the range of his fingers. He could only trust that Astrid was telling the truth.

Did he trust Astrid? That seemed to be the main question. Did he really have a choice? He couldn’t stay here forever, and she had seemed genuine so far, even if he couldn’t understand her motives. He decided to take her word for it, and crawled out of the pool.

He found the towel exactly where she said it would be, and dried himself as quickly as he could. He then took another step and found clothes. He used his hands to identify the different clothes, and put them on. But the time he put his boots on he finally felt human again.

Here is Hiccup passing his test. He grabs Astrid’s outstretched hand. He decides to trust her. It’s not permanent, and he doesn’t have much other choice her, but she doesn’t betray his trust here. Everything is exactly as she promised. 

Astrid lead him through the front door of his house and up the stairs without saying anything. She let go of his arm to move something, probably the chair he had fallen over earlier. They stood there awkwardly, neither knowing what to say. Hiccup was still lost in his thoughts, his mind unable to stop thinking of more things he’d never be able to see. He could feel the depression returning, and he hoped Astrid would leave before he’d start crying again.

Suddenly pain tore through his arm, and it took a moment before he realized Astrid had punched him.

“That’s for going out alone,” she said. He could feel his face falling as he realized she was still angry with him.

But then he suddenly felt her arms wrapping him into a tight hug. He froze, unsure of what to do, his arms hanging in the air behind Astrid’s back. Before he could react, she released him, awkwardly moving backward.

“That’s for… everything else,” she said. Hiccup suddenly felt overcome with a giddy happiness, and a snort left his mouth.

“You better not tell anyone about that! No one can know I hugged you!” she said, like it was a dirty word. She sighed, and her tone became softer.

“You know what? I’ll make a deal with you. You don’t tell anyone about what I just did, and I won’t tell anyone about what happened to you tonight. Deal?” she asked.

He couldn’t stop a smile coming to his face as he said “Deal,” He now had some sort of secret with Astrid! She suddenly grasped his hand hanging by his side, and shook it.

“Okay then. You should go to sleep now. I’m coming back in the morning, to bring you to Gothi,” She told him, sounding unsure of herself. “I’m going now. Uhm, bye Hiccup,” she said, and a second later he could hear her run down the stairs.

Astrid feels a lot of emotions after the events of the evening, and she doesn’t know how to express them as anything but anger. That’s why she punches him. But (unknown to Hiccup) she immediately feels guilty about it. She feels sad and alone herself, in need of reassurance. So she hugs him, surprising even herself. 

This is the start of their relationship. Them establishing their rules and boundaries, in a way. Here it’s already established that they’re going to have something secret, something private, something special. Of course, it’s still awkward and formal and done through deals and handshakes, but this is the first time we have Astrid protecting Hiccup as well, promising to not tell anyone about what happened to him. Not that she was going to tell anyway, but she now understands and cares that the village knowing would hurt him. She does this selflessly, though she dresses it up in selfish motives. 

Maybe she really meant it when she said that she wanted to help him. But why? Out of guilt? Some sense of honor? For a moment Hiccup allowed himself to consider the case that she helped him because she liked him, but that was ridiculous.

Whatever it was, she had helped him, and she had treated him nicer than anyone had in years, except for Gobber.

“Maybe there is someone who cares about me after all,” he thought as he fell asleep, a smile still on his face.

And in his dreams he saw Astrid’s face again, smiling at him as she hugged him close.

Hiccup goes to bed vaguely hoping for a relationship, more, even if Astrid hasn’t even considered the very possibility of it, but this is a staple of their relationship in this story. Hiccup has to deal with the contradiction between the Valkyrie he worshipped and admired from afar, and the flawed and awkward girl who hurt him, and who also helps him. While Astrid has to accept that she likes Hiccup the Useless, and that her feelings are more important than the opinion of the village. And that’s what the rest of the story is about. 

This became waaaaay longer than I expected or planned, but I had fun writing it! I hope it didn’t become boring! If you want to know about other chapters or stories, feel free to ask!

[atmickeywhite]

2020 Favorite Albums

Hi friends,  So each year, I put together a list of 50 or so of my favorite albums on Twitter. This year, I’m shifting that to tumblr and using words, etc.. And fortunately, I took a long enough break from playing Wu-Tang in Brittany’s car to listen to new music. So a bit on music -- staying current on new music, making playlists, sharing with friends and learning the history has always had its way of cementing my memories. It’s been a great way to recall dreary bus rides and summer walks around Portage Park, the loneliness of working nights and the utter joy is was to become adults with Desirae.  2020 cranked the existential shit to 11.  In January, I had moved after a brutal 14-month situation in my last apartment. In February, my childhood friend’s little sister passed away. In March, the lockdowns happened. In April, I got fired. In May, I decided to move out of state. I spent a third of June traipsing around Chattanooga before finally moving there in mid-July. August was filled with impossibly long bike rides in the Georgia rain and summer heat. September was the heart of a frustrating job search and extensive dental work. COVID came roaring back in October. My anxiety caught up to me really hard in November and December hasn’t had the greatest start, either. That’s not to speak on what the homies went through this year, and it was a lot. But we keep it pushing.  The point is that life is constantly kicking our ass and these are fifty albums that helped me get some reprieve from all of that, whether is was listening or sharing or just going back and forth with Tyler about what’s new and relevant. To that end, this year saw the cementing of Griselda is a legacy street rap act, the rise of HAUS of ALTR as a preeminent techno label and surprise turns from artists that exist in a staid major-label milieu (Dua Lipa, Lil’ Uzi Vert). Stalwarts like Sada Baby, Shinichi Atobe, Angel Marcloid and Actress stayed on repeat. Jazz, metal and folk weirdos rear their head from time to time. Acts peaked and self-destructed. I left the individual writing of the albums to people get paid to be better than me at this stuff. History, context and a feel for what the albums sound like is more useful than me painting a picture of what riding your bike around Lookout Mountain with no breaks is like.  If you check any of these out and like what you hear, I highly encourage you to buy (directly from the artist’s Bandcamp page, if applicable). And remember, taste is built in cars, not in large public places.  25 Honorable Mentions: Anunaku - Stargate Anz - Loos In Twos (NRG) Arbor Labor Union - New Petal Instants Conway The Machine - From a King to a God Drive-By Truckers - The New OK Duval Timothy - Help Eartheater - Phoenix: Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin Eiko Ishibashi - Impulse of the Ribbon Fiona Apple - Fetch The Bolt Cutters Four Tet - Sixteen Oceans Gabriel Garzon-Montano - Aguita GB - 186.22 Ian William Craig - Red Sun Through Smoke Jerry Paper - Abracadabra  Kali Uchis - Sin Miedo Lucinda Williams - Good Souls, Better Angels Machinedrum - A View of You Margo Price - That’s How Rumors Get Started Mary Lattimore - Silver Ladders MJ Guider - Sour Cherry Bell Park Hye-Jin - How can I Quelle Chris / Chris Keys - Innocent Country 2 Ringo Deathstarr - Ringo Deathstarr Soul Glo - Songs To Yeet At The Sun Trees Speak - Shadow Forms

50 - A Pregnant Light - You Cannot Pour From An Empty Vessel "These songs were written and recorded in 2017, and in a haze of... well, just imagine the bad sort of things that cause a haze over one's life. These songs were lost. In the process of cleaning out some tapes and recording sessions, these songs were found and completed in 2020. It's a bridge between where APL was three years ago, and now. It was so strange to hear these forgotten songs and go in and finish them. It was like collaborating with a person I used to know. It was an odd experience, but turned out fruitful." - A Pregnant Light Bandcamp Page 49 - Rian Treanor - File Under UK Metaplasm "We hardly need any convincing on the quality of Rian Treanor's productions as he's been completely unfuckwithable from day one, but "File Under UK Metaplasm" is still next damn level.Rian bashed out the initial demos on returning from a trip to Uganda in 2018 for Nyege Nyege Festival. Inspired by the producers he'd collaborated with in Kampala, he switched up his workflow and began jamming out ideas at higher tempos, harnessing the energy of singeli music without simply carbon copying the style. Initial sketches were eventually fleshed into proper tracks and tested on audiences (and on soundsystems) around the world where Rian could assess the power of each element.It was worth the hard work, the result is a fiery set of tunes that sound like everything at once and nothing at all. Opener 'Hypnic Jerks' is ragged kick-bubbling 200-bpm club on secondment to Tanzania; 'Vacuum Angle' is wobbly DMT-step that sounds like an attempt to use aging educational computer software to power the Stargate; 'Mirror Instant' is shuffling bassline house kicked up to 45rpm; 'Opponent Process' is EP7-era Autechre with the fun switch turned on; 'Debouncing' is double-speed grime that glides into parts unknown. By the time the album reaches a close on 'Orders From The Pausing', a melancholic gabber tune with an almost inverted, whisper-soft kick (?), Rian suddenly introduces reverb to the mix, just because he can.Peerless, unfathomably inventive electronic music from the North of England, via East Africa - fucking essential." - Boomkat Product Review 48 - Sex Swing - Type II “Fuck,” I thought when I first heard it. “This really, really rocks.” - Adam Lehrer, The Quietus

47 - Yves Tumor - Heaven to a Tortured Mind

"In that way, Heaven to a Tortured Mind is the most straightforward record in Tumor’s catalog. It’s an album with commercial, or at least mass, appeal in mind. And it seems to confirm something Tumor hinted at in a 2016 interview about their musical aspirations: “I only want to make hits. What else would I want to make?” The product of this ambition is a gratifying and intense record, one whose pleasures are viscerally immediate. Above all, it’s loads of fun to watch Tumor don the guise of a devilish rockstar. It’s not exactly a new archetype in our cultural imagination, but the ravishing delight Tumor brings to this character is what makes their music so affecting. Yves is a performer whose roles, played with the utmost rigor, always find a way to linger in the memory." - Kevin Lozano, Pitchfork

46 - DJ Taye - PYROT3K

"Pop music moves fast: new instructional-dance songs, new Drake songs, and new instructional-dance songs by Drake can bombard the zeitgeist one week and all but evaporate the next. Footwork, the lightning-fast Chicago-born house subgenre, is well suited to capture that frenetic pace. Young footwork master and Teklife member DJ Taye instinctively understands how to combine footwork’s adrenaline rush with the pop’s euphoric glee to build tracks with a distinctive energy. Last month he self-released Pyrot3k, the third entry in the Pyrotek mixtape series he launched in October. On the latest volume—also available in a deluxe version called Pyrot3k (SS)—he focuses on blissful melodies and antsy samples. On “Gang,” for example, he loops a snippet of JackBoys’ “Gang Gang” into a hypnotic koan at a speed that makes the original sound like it’s stuck in the mud. Several of Taye’s friends, including Teklife members DJ Earl and Heavee, join in on the fun, and I’m especially partial to his collaboration with Night Slugs label owner James Connolly, aka L-Vis 1990. On “Parade Float,” the two producers whimsically intertwine Morse code beeps and battering-ram gabber-style kick drum to manifest a cartoonish energy that seems to gather itself and balloon outward during the song’s tiny silences. - Leor Galil, Chicago Reader

45 - Hudson Mohawke - Poom Gems

"At the moment, nothing can stop Hudson Mohawke. After a hiatus from his solo work, the Scottish producer started his summer by releasing his first single under his HudMo title since 2016, “BENT” with JIMMY EDGAR. Since then, he’s only upped the ante, with his inexhaustible activity culminating in his first solo LP in four years, Big Booty Hiking Exhibition. Now, HudMo is back with his second album in a month’s time.

Poom Gems can be thought of as a companion album to Big Booty Hiking Exhibition, as both comprised previously unreleased tracks that Mohawke has been sitting on. Like Big Booty Hiking Exhibition, Poom Gems ranges from some of HudMo’s most off-the-wall beats yet to his classic, unreplicable, and bombastic sound, though as a whole, Poom Gems is more accessible than it’s predecessor. After almost no announcement before Poom Gems‘ release, only one question remains: how much more is to come amid Mohawke’s return?" - Mitchell Rose, Dancing Astronaut

44 - Shinichi Atobe - Yes

"The stately, melodic techno and deep house made by Shinichi Atobe—a resident of Saitama City, just north of Tokyo—puts me in mind of his country's devotion to orderly calm. One of two non-European artists to appear on Basic Channel's legendary Chain Reaction imprint, Atobe took 13 years off before the archival Butterfly Effect album arrived via DDS in 2014. His re-emergence into the dance music world has been one of the decade's most welcome surprises.

Yes is his fifth album for DDS. Demdike Stare states their communication with Atobe is limited to a CD that arrives in the post every so often, "no words except for the track titles." The first circulated photo of Atobe was included with the Yes CD-R, perhaps to quell rumors Shinichi Atobe is an alias of another Chain Reaction artist. He's never granted an interview.

He doesn't need to. Each Atobe album feels like the latest installment in a serial novel, a body of work mysterious in its ability to mix calm rhythms and atmospheres with achingly beautiful melodies. As usual, Yes will sate the small group of obsessives that smash the pre-order on each new Atobe album. He's nearly always in top form. The title track's hopeful mix of synth and house-y piano stand up to Atobe's other melodic classics "Heat 1" and "The Butterfly Effect." "Lake 3" contains Atobe's most boisterous synth theme to date, the '90s Carl Craig-esque figure mixing with Atobe's signature sad piano and, in a novel twist, hand drums.

The progression in Atobe's work is incremental. Beyond the title-track, Yes mostly does away with the classy, tech house-style snap prevalent on 2018's Heat. For an artist that emerged as a model of consistency, Atobe takes a surprising amount of left turns. The closing cut "Ocean 1" is Atobe's placid take on a synth-funk jam. The opener "Ocean 7" is beatless, with hectic arpeggios. In the background of that track, there's a peaceful drone that runs throughout. A similar tone runs in the background on the entirety of "Lake 3." These touches imbue Atobe's sonic world with its own concept of gaman, enveloping the listener in an eerie sense of calm." - Matt McDermott, Resident Advisor

43 - Various Artists - HOA 012

"Did you think we were done?

The story is not over, but only beginning. HOA012, We come together as a unit, to continue our story. A story that needs to be told. For those of you just joining us, welcome. For those of you returning, welcome back. Now fully on the path, we march toward a future of unabashed black electronic expression." - HAUS of ALTR bandcamp page

42 - Garcia Peoples - Nightcap At Wits' End

"New Jersey-based avant-jam band Garcia Peoples were a little slow to take shape, but after the release of their excitable 2018 album Cosmic Cash, they switched into overdrive. Constant live performances, residencies, concert documents, and prolifically recorded studio albums tracked a creative development that morphed from record to record. The group took cues from the open-ended improvisation of classic jam band acts like Phish and the Grateful Dead, but also incorporated dual-guitar wizardry on par with Television or, in their more Southern-fried moments, the Allmann Brothers. For their 2019 album One Step Behind, the band expanded to a six-piece lineup and added avant-jazz touches to the equation as they stretched out over the course of a half-hour-long title track. With Nightcap at Wits' End, Garcia Peoples shift gears yet again, with a set of neatly composed and relatively concise tunes that distill their wandering impulses into easily digestible forms. This can take the form of rowdy prog-lite tunes like album opener "Gliding Through" or the shadowy but mystical folk-rock of "Altered Place." In this more composed rock mode, the band recalls the shadowy mystique of early Bay Area psychedelic giants like Jefferson Airplane as much as they do obscure acts like Anonymous and Relatively Clean Rivers. After a lively start, the album shifts into mellower territory with the drifty "Fire of the Now." "Painting a Vision That Carries" is made up of delicate vocal harmonies and a dynamic structure that goes from controlled acoustic segments to blasting verses and back. As this song burns on into a vamping jam, the band's Dead-like tendencies come to the surface with noodling guitar leads and dazzling group interplay. The second half of Nightcap at Wits' End becomes a string of woozy and meandering pieces that blur into one another in clouds of hazy jamming. Themes resurface as the band shuffles through meditative riffing on "Crown of Thought," Krautrock-y interludes, and the blissfully droning Popol Vuh-esque "A Reckoning." Garcia Peoples' excellent psychedelia manages to recall moments from past masters while still offering a chemistry and composition unique to the band. Nightcap at Wits' End is the most complete articulation of their wide-reaching creative range, and stands as the their most focused and engaging work to date." - Fred Thomas, AllMusic

41 - Nonlocal Forecast - Holographic Universe(s)?

"Angel Marcloid's recordings as Nonlocal Forecast focus the trajectory of a vast catalog squarely in the realm of retro Weather Channel-inspired smooth jazz fusion, intricate prog, and expansive new age experiments. Trading off a measure of the typically overloaded compositional style found in other projects to favor lush atmospheres and relatively pared down arrangements, Marcloid populates Nonlocal Forecast pieces with progressive keyboard and synth harmonies, complex drum programming, and majestic leads performed on guitar, keyboards, and guests' saxophones. The project runs alongside the omni-combinatory works of the flagship project Fire-Toolz and many other monikers including the vapor-focused works of Mindspring Memories. Holographic Universe(s?)!, the second Nonlocal Forecast full-length and the first to be released on vinyl, follows Bubble Universe! with a cycle of songs that elevates Marcloid's grandiose compositions to previously undiscovered heights, while packing the music with dramatic shifts that allow it to journey off into dynamic new directions." - Fatbeats product summary

40 - Black Dresses - Peaceful As Hell

"The Canadian noise-pop duo’s music conjures a psychotic slumber party, or a Second Life rave, but remains grounded in the bittersweet beauty of lifelong friendship. " - Leah Mandel, Pitchfork

39 - Kelly Lee Owens - Inner Song

"Owens’ self-titled debut album played with sounds that felt spiritual, almost new age, like the tablas on “S.O.” and sitar drone on “8.” On Inner Song, that meditative quality comes less from instrumental texture and more from the actual form of the songs. Though she drifts across tempos and dabbles with a variety of drum patterns, loops—both instrumental and lyrical—provide the record’s through line. On “Wake-Up,” life’s circular patterns are made explicit: “Wake up/Repeat again/Again.” Owens writes with clarity and simplicity, using her own voice as something like a synthesizer, processing a phrase and then repeating it as she sings subtle variations in timbre and tone. Her lyrics are, in their own quiet way, a celebration of the pleasures of solitude and self-love." - Nathan Smith, Pitchfork

38 - Pink Siifu - Negro

"The core of NEGRO is defined by its antipathy for police. “DeadMeat” was inspired by a harrowing incident in New York, where a black cop threatened his life for jumping a subway turnstile. Siifu recorded “DeadMeat” the next day, reeling from the fact that someone of his race would treat him with such unmitigated hate. It begins with Siifu repeating the police officer’s threat verbatim and ends with him drawing the distinction between police officers and “pigs.” - Max Bell, Bandcamp Daily

37 - Charli XCX - How I'm Feeling Now

"Our homes have become offices, churches, mutual aid hubs, child- and eldercare centers. Every inch of space has been claimed by a corner of life, worn from multi-purpose use, yet hopefully loved and lived in. But the home — even just one room strung with cheap lights — can also be a refuge to dance through your emotion. how i'm feeling now — an album whose title says everything, and whose music has a rave intimacy that reaches beyond quarantined walls — doesn't just capture the mood, but the modes of our survival. Charli XCX collaborated remotely with trusted producers (A. G. Cook, Danny L Harle) and new ones (BJ Burton, 100 gecs' Dylan Brady), to lean harder into the buzzing-yet-glam-blammed hyper-pop that she's explored in recent years. While the aural abrasion amplifies our collective WTF, turnt up on video chats and pining for reckless nights, the core of how i'm feeling now deepens around the loving bonds forged in close quarters." - Lars Gotrich, NPR Music

36 - Armand Hammer - Shrines

"Shrines boasts a larger roster of producers and featured artists than any of the group’s past work. Many of them were already members of the duo’s tight-knit, avant-garde circle: Curly Castro, Fielded, Kenny Segal, Messiah Muzik, R.A.P. Ferreira, Quelle Chris. A woozy instrumental (“Bitter Cassava”) and verse (“Ramses II”) by Earl Sweatshirt suggest that Armand Hammer could soon extend their reach even further. In this fraught time, the camaraderie on Shrines feels intentional. In 2018, Elucid told Pitchfork that his music is about bringing like minds together, to feel like “we’re fighting against the same evil.” Shrines is a confirmation that the more people who put those sunglasses on, the better." - Christina Lee, Bandcamp Daily

35 - Bad Bunny - Yo hago lo que me de la gana

"From the moment Bad Bunny's sophomore album begins, over a synthesized interpolation of bossa nova staple "The Girl From Ipanema," the Puerto Rican superstar leans heavily on past classics to breathe new life into Latin trap. El Conejo is, for the most part, done missing his ex jeva for now — instead he's dressing up as his female alter ego to call out creeps at the club, de-stigmatizing a particular romantic pursuit on a perreo-fueled symphony, and rocking out to his own success on an emo-trap anthem. YHLQMDLG is an homage to the reggaeton bangers that raised Bunny, complete with collabs from some of the greatest vets in the game, including Daddy Yankee, Ñengo Flow and Jowell & Randy. It's an album steeped in nostalgia for the garage-party-perreo of the early-aughts, but with a modernity that forecasts a bright future for urbano — even one that may find Bad Bunny (if you believe the album title) permanently tapping out. He does what he wants, and he gets away with it, too." - Isabella Gomez Sarmiento, NPR

34 - Popcaan - FIXTAPE

"In its mix form, Fixtape is framed as an epic tale in which Popcaan shares moments along his route to dancehall’s most prominent torchbearers. Instead of starting with the self-produced “Chill,” the SoundCloud version begins with melodramatic piano strokes, almost reminiscent of the theme song to The Young and the Restless. Those key hits grow into a symphonic instrumental adaptation of Popcaan’s 2011 hit “Only Man She Want,” and soon after, the first two non-Poppy voices you hear are a drop from incarcerated icon Vybz Kartel and audio of Drake’s praise at the first Unruly Fest in December 2018. Though even novice Popcaan listeners already know these affiliations, starting the project in this way is like flexing for the mirror, a moment of self-affirmation before proving it to the world. So it makes sense that the first song on this version of the tape, “Killy Dem Crazy,” is Popcaan trying his hand at Nas and Diddy’s Trackmasters-produced classic “Hate Me Now”—the perfect “fuck whoever don’t like it” gesture." - Lawrence Burney, Pitchfork

33 - Drakeo The Ruler - Thank You For Using GTL

"Since the genre's inception, the voice in rap has been sped up, glitched out, chopped and screwed, slowed and reverbed, all to convey textures and feelings that language alone cannot. On Thank You For Using GTL, Drakeo The Ruler's was shrunk to fuzz, transmitted through a jail phone. The intent wasn't to create a mood, but to create something, to continue a career that was snatched away. At the time, Drakeo had spent most of the three years prior in Los Angeles' notorious Men's Central Jail, and nine of those months in solitary confinement, first battling a murder charge he'd be acquitted of, then a gang conspiracy charge that the prosecution built out of his lyrics and music videos. He was suddenly freed in November on a plea deal, days before L.A. county district attorney Jackie Lacey lost her seat to the more progressive George Gascón. His lawyer, John Hamasaki, told NPR that "if the case had been continued to January, it probably would have been dismissed by [Gascón's] office."

Even when transmitted across a scummy phone line, Drakeo's sneer cuts like a knife. Submerged in static and woven over JoogSZN's brooding instrumentals, his raps feel suspended in a constant denouement, transient and purgatorial, as he probes at the suits trying to end his life. "It might sound real, but it's fictional / I love that my imagination gets to you," he raps on the final track. What isn't fiction are the cruel and convoluted circumstances that shaped GTL, that cost its creators thousands of dollars to record while profiting a billion dollar telecom company, and that continue to take lifetimes away from Black men." —Mano Sundaresan, NPR

32 - Nathan Fake - Blizzards

"Blizzards has almost no breaks or meanders, just relentless club music adorned with beautiful melodies. In taking stock of his music and returning to his fundamentals, Blizzards highlights everything Fake is good at: the way his drums tend to dance in between established genres, melodies that sound like a warped Boards Of Canada record, the constant push-and-pull of dark and light. It's more of a reset than a reinvention, a return to the earnest simplicity that made him a wunderkind all those years ago." - Andrew Ryce, Resident Advisor

31 - Dj Diaki - Balani Fou

"The absorption of multiple streams of African electronic music into a western club milieu has been patchy. Where styles like kwaito and gqom have slotted into house and bass idioms, and kuduro has made an impact via diasporic scenes like the one in Lisbon, the harder and faster styles—like Shangaan electro and the emergent singeli sound from Dar Es Salaam—haven't easily found a foothold. When they do appear, they're often an anomalous peak in a DJ set from which it's hard to climb down. But with the current vogue for speedy techno and other hard dance sounds, along with the interest in singeli and other belting East African sounds, Diaki's Crazy Balani couldn't have smashed its way to the dance floor at a better time." - Chal Ravens, Resident Advisor

30 - Caribou - Suddenly

"Dan Snaith’s latest is as sly and layered as ever, but he finds ways to be more direct with his songwriting. There are no bum notes, no wasted motions, no corners of the audio spectrum left untouched. " - Phillip Sherburne, Pitchfork

29 - Deradoorian - Find The Sun

"The LP’s guitar-centric approach is a bit of a surprise, but Deradoorian isn’t a stranger to big riffs. She’s done stints in bands like Dirty Projectors and Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks; more recently, she’s been ripping it up as the vocalist of BSCBR (aka Black Sabbath Cover Band Rehearsals), filling Ozzy Osborne’s shoes alongside artists like Yeah Yeah Yeahs guitarist Nick Zinner and drumming virtuoso Greg Fox. Find the Sun never reaches Paranoid levels of bombast, but it’s easily her brawniest solo record to date. Songs like “Saturnine Night” and closer “Sun” channel the psychedelic swagger of ’70s giants like the Doors and Led Zeppelin, while the rubbery bassline and surging guitar chords of album highlight “It Was Me” bring to mind the likes of Nirvana and Hole—or at least the times when those bands emulated indie pop groups like the Vaselines and Young Marble Giants.

But Find the Sun shouldn’t be mistaken for an exercise in rock worship. The influence of Can looms large, and Deradoorian’s music is still psychedelic, weird, and seemingly primed for a hallucinogenic trip to the outer recesses of the human psyche. With its motorik groove and dramatic talk-singing, “The Illuminator” sounds like a freaky, nine-minute-long outtake from Andy Warhol’s Factory, while the slinky “Devil’s Market” recalls the space-age lounge music once championed by bands like Stereolab. “Saturnine Night” does feature growling guitars, but they’re paired with an unkempt Krautrock rhythm that could have been pulled from Neu! 2, along with a dramatic, PJ Harvey-esque vocal turn from Deradoorian, who belts out brooding lines like “Innocence/In my death” and, simply, “I die.” - Shawn Reynolds, Pitchfork

28 - Thundercat - It Is What It Is

"Left savoring the tasty morsels of 2017's critically-acclaimed Drunk and 2018's Drank (its "chopped not slopped" remix album), it was an absolute pleasure to sink hungry ears into Thundercat's It Is What It Is this year. The bassist born Stephen Bruner blurs genre boundaries, dishing out dizzying acrobatics on "How Sway," beefy funk vibes on "Black Qualls" (featuring Steve Lacy, Steve Arrington and Childish Gambino) and cheeky R&B hilarity on "Dragonball Durag." Coproduced by longtime collaborator Flying Lotus, It Is What It Is drips with curtains of lush vocals. The album chronicles a broken heart's analysis of grief and its subsequent recovery by asking probing questions and finding joy where it can to survive pain, uncertainty, rejection and isolation. It's an enchanting tale of hope and growth in a year that served us heaping portions of gloom and melancholy" - Nikki Birch, NPR

27 - Against All Logic - 2017-19

"That Beyoncé is the first voice we hear on 2017 - 2019 is instructive of the bold new direction. Hers and Sean Paul's vocals are lifted from "Baby Boy" and layered over a crackling broken beat, an uncanny string-like instrument and inviting synth chords. A sample of Luther Ingram's 1972 soul song "(If Loving You Is Wrong) I Don't Want to Be Right" appears on track two, a degraded house cut, thus establishing a template of sorts: 2017 - 2019 is an album of stylistic leaps, radiant melodies, difficult-to-place sounds and red herrings. Back-to-back opening tracks with instantly recognisable sample flips, for example, sets up an expectation of many more to follow. Instead, there are none. That is unless you can spot the source of the hip-hop loop on "With An Addict." Jaar casually filters it into the arrangement to create a half-time contrast with the main drums, a rolling footwork/jungle-style pattern that features percussion reminiscent of the "Apache" break. The poignant, daybreak melody caps a track that bundles the album's strongest qualities." - Ryan Keeling, Resident Advisor

26 - Adrian Younge / Ali Shaheed Mohammad - Jazz Is Dead 001

"Adrian Younge and Ali Shaheed Muhammad both have impressive resumes as purveyors of modern soul, jazz, and hip-hop. Younge, a bassist, keyboardist, composer, and producer, has scored films such Black Dynamite and collaborated with artists ranging from Philly soul legends the Delfonics to Wu-Tang Clan's Ghostface Killah. Meanwhile, Muhammad was a member of A Tribe Called Quest and has worked on various projects outside that group. Together, Younge and Muhammad formed the Midnight Hour, a versatile band that brought a modern edge to retro soul and jazz sounds." - Rich Wilhelm, popMatters

25 - The Soft Pink Truth - Shall We Go On Sinning So That Grace May Increase

"Drew Daniel's latest LP as The Soft Pink Truth, Shall We Go On Sinning So That Grace May Increase, is a stunner that revels in communitas while flirting with house music and ambient tropes" - Bernie Brooks, the Quietus

24 - Jessy Lanza - All The Time

"The early days of writing All the Time, Jessy Lanza's first album since 2016's Oh No, marked a sea change for Jessy and her creative partner Jeremy Greenspan. After Oh No, Jessy left her hometown of Hamilton to go and live in New York. Written long distance for the first time, across Jessy’s new set up in New York to Jeremy’s home studio in Hamilton, and finishing in the recording studio Jeremy had been working on during this period.

Even though the move to New York and the change in remote working was tough, 'All the Time' has turned out to be the most pure set of pop songs the duo has recorded; reflective and finessed over the time and distance they allowed it. Innovative juxtapositions sound natural, such as rigid 808’s rubbing against delicate chords in 'Anyone Around', unusual underwater rushes underpin Baby Love . Jessy’s voice is treated, re-pitched and edited on songs like Ice creamy and gestural sounds seem to respond to her lyrics in songs such as Like Fire.

A lot of these sounds came from live take experiments using semi modular/modular equipment like Mother 32 and Dfam and Moog Sirin. Jessy says ‘We got all of the machines talking to one another and would run patterns through. A lot of the little burps and quacks and squiggles heard on songs like Anyone Around, Like 'Fire', 'Face', and 'Badly' are from those experiments. That’s when I’m having the most fun, making music and improvising through takes of the song and editing together all the best gurgle sounds afterwards’.

More than previously the lyrics on All The Time were an important focus for Jessy, articulating difficult feeling into her outwardly joyful music. ’Anger is a familiar and safe feeling for me. The album became a conversation with myself about why that is. Some songs refer to real and legitimate things to be angry about; 'Lick in Heaven' takes aim at what the culture expects from women. The cynicism I felt towards the people around me kept coming up and All the Time is an exploration into those feelings and a conversation with myself about other possibilities when it comes to my outlook on life.’

As the final elements of the album were being put in place, everything changed overnight. Her European tour was cut short and she flew back to New York quickly, plans for the foreseeable future dissolved. Whatsmore her lease was up on her apartment and she couldn’t find another in New York due to quarantine restrictions, so she packed what she could into her van and drove to San Francisco to be near her family, stopping on the way in increasingly empty motels as she journeyed from coast to coast.

‘Even though All the Time was written in 2019 the themes feel even more relevant now. Like a lot of people,I’m still struggling with the reality that life is hard to predict and it’s even harder not to make the same mistakes over again, trying to control what i’m able to and leave the rest.’ The cover photo of Jessy in her van was taken before these events , but it’s taken on more importance since. ‘Through many changing situations my minivan gives me comfort. It seems like such an American thing to say.m I realise it’s symbolic of a much larger existential struggle in my own life but regardless I wanted it to be a part of the album cover. Sitting in my van made me feel so comfortable and it’s rare for me to feel that.

All the time has ended up being a triumph, channeling difficult feelings into something that has whit energy and style. " - Jessy Lanza bandcamp page

23 - AceMoMA - A New Dawn

"AceMoMA connect back to their NYC forefathers (with nods to techno dons Derrick May and Jeff Mills), while also keeping a healthy disregard for the past, pushing ahead with palpable enthusiasm and energy. As Stevens explained in that same interview, “[As] brown people making dance music… we needed to create context for what we were doing. So we did.” Like the best moments of a night out, A New Dawn feels like instant history and an instant party." - Andy Beta, Pitchfork

22 - Adrianne Lenker - songs

"As a solo artist or with her band Big Thief, Adrianne Lenker has been at or near the top of my year-end lists for the past five years, more so than any other artist. The simultaneous strength and frailty in her voice attract me to her music. Earlier this year, she told NPR's All Things Considered host Mary Louise Kelly, "I was really sad, and I hit a wall — I kind of hit the bottom of myself and went to a pretty dark and sad space for a while. And the music itself, and writing these songs, was a thing that was getting me through it." The songs on songs were birthed in a one-room cabin in Western Massachusetts' mountains and recorded on an old Otari 8-track. We hear acoustic guitar, her voice, the sound of the cabin and whatever bugs and birds happen to be in the background of the poetic paintings she sings. The intimacy is magnetic" - Bob Boilen, NPR

21 - Trees Speak - Ohms

"The act of driving informs the music of Trees Speak, who take cues from the Autobahn-extolling music of classic Krautrock, specifically Kraftwerk. The roads green West Germany led Krautrock pioneers like Kraftwek to produce smooth, seamless electronic rhythms—but the rugged, dusted Sonoran Desert of southern Arizona leads Trees Speak to a more rough hewn electronic sound." - d mittleman, Aquarium Drunkard

20 - 21 Savage / Metro Boomin - Savage Mode II

"Ultimately, though, ‘Savage Mode II’ feels like a throwback: one rapper and one producer focused on a single creative project. Think Eric B and Rakim; Missy Elliot and Timbaland; Method Man and RZA. Their collaborators, such as Drake and Young Thug (the latter on ‘Rich N**ga Shit’, an anthemic rap about their lavish lifestyles), ably support, stepping in occasionally to craft the project into a more well-rounded shape.

‘Savage Mode II’ allows the Atlanta-based MC the space to make his point and cast all nonsense aside, letting his talent speak for itself. Metro Boomin, meanwhile, further showcases his generational abilities. As a whole, the album is confirmation of two young artists at the top of their game, watching the landscape unfold from the throne they earned themselves four years ago." - Dhruva Balram, NME

19 - Various Artists - HOA 010

"Ahead of the dawn, there could only be us...

HAUS of ALTR presents HOA010. Our second compilation, featuring the future of Black electronic music, and as the music as it exist in its current state. In these trying times, we come together to stake claim on the roots of techno and its potential future. Too Black, Too Strong." - HAUS of ALTR bandcamp page

18 - Emma Ruth Rundle / Thou - May Our Chambers Be Full

"Stemming out of an offer from Roadburn Festival organizer Walter Hoeijmakers, mutual acquaintances, and a shared love of each other’s output, May Our Chambers Be Full is the first recorded document of collaboration between Emma Ruth Rundle and Thou. While their solo material seems on its face to be quite disparate, both groups have spent their respective careers lurking at the outer boundaries of the heavy metal scene, the artists having more in common with DIY punk and its spiritual successor, grunge.

May Our Chambers Be Full straddles a similar, very fine line both musically and thematically. While Emma Ruth Rundle’s standard fare is a blend of post-rock-infused folk music, and Thou is typically known for its downtuned, doomy sludge, the conjoining of the two artists has created a record more in the vein of the early ’90s Seattle sound and later ’90s episodes of Alternative Nation, while still retaining much of the artists’ core identities. Likewise, the lyrical content of the album is a marriage of mental trauma, existential crises, and the ecstatic tradition of the expressionist dance movement. “Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps.” Melodic, melancholic, heavy, visceral." - Thou Bandcamp page

17 - Mong Tong - Mystery

"For Mystery秘神, they imagined a version of ancient Asia where all of the continent’s superstitions were real, and wrote a record based on how that world would sound. Their songs usually consist of a lolloping bassline, a snakey guitar lead, and campy synths that could perfectly soundtrack both an ‘80s crime flick and a highly stylized video game. Their sound evokes the simultaneous futurism and nostalgia of vaporwave, and the duo consider it “sample-based” because of the post-production process, in which they cut up, loop, and re-pitch their jam sessions into structured songs. All of the percussion is constructed in Ableton; there are no vocals, but they do include a few soundbites from Taiwanese films and TV shows. (“Chakra,” for example, features a bit of a dialogue about the connection between aliens and Hinduism.)" - Eli Enis, Bandcamp Daily

16 - Sada Baby - Bartier Bounty 2

"His voice is at a-near constant sneer to match the furious pacing until the surprising collaboration with Dej Loaf that showcases a smoother version of the 27-year-old rapper. Street anthems like “Trap Withdrawals” approach standard topics of growing up hustling with bombastic brilliance. “Horse Play 2” even samples Linkin Park’s “In The End” and makes it work. Bartier‘s sequel takes all of Detroit’s current hip-hop momentum and propels it to Super Saiyan-level dominance thanks to Sada Baby’s need to experiment." - Patrick Johnson, Hypebeast

15 - Oranssi Pazuzu - Mestarin kynsi

"Even at nearly an hour in length, the album flies by, dense and vicious and evocative as a novel, as contemplative as the featureless gore of the cover art. I've had this promo for perhaps two full months now; I've listened to it nearly every day since then, often multiple times a day. I've commented before about a spate of records that were battling it out for the number one spot for me this year, and while that number has now expanded, the number then at least was three. One of them was Spectral Lore and Mare Cognitum's incredible progressive black metal split full-length. Another was Sweven's immaculate death metal debut. The third was this.

It's hard to deny that a certain strain of the listenership is right: this isn't black metal anymore. But this is for the best for Oranssi Pazuzu. The past seven years have seen them put out record after record that was better not only than the one before it but of the whole of their work. By Värähtelijä, they were scraping Hall of Fame territory. On Mestarin kynsi, they exceed it." - Langdon Hickman, Invisible Oranges

14 - Sunwatchers - Oh Yeah?

"The album’s title “Oh Yeah?” is at once an homage to Mingus, Thee Oh Sees’ album “Help” (whose Brigid Dawson hand-sewed the tapestry adorning the album’s front cover) and (naturally) the rallying cry of KoolBrave himself - the Kool-Aid Man-as-Braveheart avatar the band adopted as their symbol. The three years since the band’s second album (and TiM debut) “II” was released, has seen the band grace stages across the USA and Europe, enlisting more comrades in their mission of solidarity (sonically speaking) with every show." - Sunwatchers Bandcamp page

13 - Fire-Toolz - Rainbow Bridge

"Rainbow Bridge was made in part as a reflection on the death of Marcloid’s cat Breakfast, which explains in part the way the record swings back and forth between beauty and cacophony. Marcloid’s work as Fire-Toolz has always been about the way that these two emotional poles can coexist, but the way we deal with death is especially complicated. Even the most intense grief is braided with moments of peace and clarity, the beautiful memories of a life well-lived. Rainbow Bridge mirrors the intensity and the confusion of these experiences and shows that even in the direst times, it’s possible to find comfort." - Colin Joyce, Pitchfork

12 - Beatrice Dillon - Workaround

"Chain Reaction meets mid-20th-century minimalism with spectacular results." - Chal Ravens, Resident Advisor

11 - Dua Lipa - Future Nostalgia

At 24, Lipa has been working towards this moment for almost 10 years, and her sights are set higher still. A false start in modeling impressed the importance of going where you’re wanted; in Lipa’s case, to Warner Records, who sought a female pop icon to compete with the Rihannas and Lady Gagas of the world. She leveraged her talent as a songwriter, developing an early Dua Lipa single, “Hotter Than Hell,” in the first session with her prospective management team. Her sly swagger and fashion-plate style gave her the presence of someone who’d achieved diva status already. “I’m a bit too far down the line for anyone to try and tell me something,” she said of her creative autonomy in 2017, even before the release of her first record.

But where many of pop’s most recent stars are emphatically emotionally available, Lipa radiates blithe coolness. Her brand is style, competence, taste—this is, in a way perhaps not obvious to those who actually remember the ’80s, entirely tasteful pop music—and the sultry low voice that makes her the star of even a middling Martin Garrix collab. Future Nostalgia is nonstop, no ballads; for 10 tracks, the closest it comes to feeling vulnerable or revealing is “Pretty Please,” a plea for stress-relief sex with an ultra-thick bassline. When Lipa proclaims, “You got me losing all my cool/’Cause I’m burning up on you,” on the Tove Lo cowrite “Cool,” she rhymes it with, “In control of what I do.” - Anna Gaca, Pitchfork

10 - Jasmine Infiniti - Bxtch Slap

"It’s building on that myth of being The Queen of Hell and how as a black trans woman, often just existing in this world feels hellish. The things that I have personally had to go through and that many other black trans women endure, it’s almost as if we are existing in hell already. It’s kind of like, well if I’m already here, I might as well live it up and find the best parts of this existence that I can. It’s about embracing that hell vibe. If I’m already here then I’m gonna be debaucherous and party to all hours of the morning. I want it to reflect that, but also have a little bit of sadness, a little bit resentfulness and a little bit anger, but also happiness and joy. It’s about taking hell and having fun with it." - Jasmine Infiniti, Vice

9 - Actress - Karma & Desire

"Karma & Desire bears the sonic touchstones of his landmark full-lengths like R.I.P. and AZD, but it also represents a profound shift in Cunningham's approach. For the first time, he's invited friends to help out. "I just wanted to give Actress a voice, basically, to use vocal performances from, like, a muse perspective really," he recently told Bandcamp Daily.

Despite several rave-worthy tracks voiced by the LA artist Aura T-09, this is not Actress's vocal house album, nor is it an album of pop songs. Instead, he utilizes the considerable vocal talents of artists like Zsela and Sampha in a signature Actress style, with snatches of stream-of-consciousness vocals rearranged into dreamlike sketches. The New York artist Zsela exhales "Destiny is stuck in heaven," on the burbling "Angels Pharmacy," before reprising the same theme on the very next track, "Remembrance." Just as hazy pads and white noise form motifs in Actress's catalogue, evocative phrases surface and resurface from the murk." Matt McDermott, Resident Advisor

8 - Lil Uzi Vert - Eternal Atake

"Few make rapping sound as purely fun as Lil Uzi Vert. His second album, Eternal Atake, arrived on the heels of a nearly three-year label dispute, yet it still sounds unburdened. The songs traffic in abundant imagination — words and syllables are deconstructed and restacked to form breathless cadences that explode across beats as funky as they are futuristic. When he chants "Balenci" enough times to void it of any meaning on "POP" or when he spits out a multibar hook that skirts repetition altogether (or, really, any qualities that usually make up a hook) as on "Homecoming," it's the chutzpah, but it's also the musicality of it all, the way the melodies are both instrument and a vehicle for lyrics. One of rap's most precise technicians, Uzi has been perfecting this craft since he began his career ascent in 2015, but Eternal Atake prompted us to hear the extraterrestrial — a world within worlds that's all his own." - Briana Younger, NPR

7 - bbyMutha - Muthaland

"Across Muthaland, bbymutha reclaims several words used to jab at her pride: “baby mama,” “slut,” “hoodrat.” She says them with her chest and siphons the negative energy in order to lift herself above the competition. It’s exhilarating, which makes the prospect of her early retirement all the sadder. Rap could use several more voices like hers. If Muthaland really is the last album bbymutha plans on releasing to the public, she’s brought us into her twisted world at its creative peak." Dylan Green, Pitchfork

6 - Jeff Parker - Suite for Max Brown

"The album is a mixture of live improvisations backed by drum loops. This was inspired by Parker’s time as a DJ. “I used to DJ a lot when I lived in Chicago,” Parker recently said. “I was spinning records one night and for about ten minutes I was able to perfectly synch up a Nobukazu Takemura record with the first movement of John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme and it had this free jazz, abstract jazz thing going on with a sequenced beat underneath. It sounded so good. That’s what I’m trying to do with Suite for Max Brown. Man vs. machine.” - Nick Roseblade, The Quietus

5 - GAIKA - Seguridad

"Brixton’s GAIKA has already proven himself a heavyweight via his releases on WARP Records, where he imbues the moodier end of dancehall, R&B, and Afrobeats with the kind of apocalyptic political vision you might expect from righteous roots reggae. Here, he’s teamed up with Mexico City’s NAAFI label, and eight members of their musical family. The music ranges from a reggaetón canter (“Maria”) to an almost drum-free crawl (“Nine Lives”); GAIKA’s hoarse voice, swimming through glutenous resonant autotune, draws it all together. It draws you into a zoned-out science fiction night time world, a Black Atlantic gothic cyberpunk fever dream that will haunt you long after it’s ended." - Joe Muggs, Bandcamp Daily

4 - Nazar - Guerrilla

"The roughest rough kuduro on Guerrilla lives up to the billing. Over charging horns and erratic snare sprints, "Arms Deal"'s midrange is filled with raging, Pollocky slashes of tapehead noise. "Why"'s 8-bit Sonic synths, Terrordrome trance leads and rap fragments are also fantastic. Guerrilla can be stealthy, too. Take "Fim-92 Stinger," a carnivalesque hip swinger with shades of the slinky batida from DJ Nigga Fox's Cartas Na Magna. It's a rare gem: fun, seductive, somewhat steady. You could even call it celebratory. But when Nazar says, "The ceasefire should at least last until the duration of this song," his pessimism resurfaces. Sure enough, the next track, "Immortal," illustrates what seems like a bullet-time detachment from conflict. It's possible to make out the ambience of the Angolan bush, stray gunfire and casual bravado, but the clearest sounds in its spectral quiet are an amped-up wheeze and the continuous loading of magazines. You're hearing the itch to fight." - Ray Philp, Resident Advisor

3 - Benny The Butcher - Burden of Proof

"With the help of Hit-Boy, Rick Ross, and Freddie Gibbs, Benny has another one for us to mob out to. At one point on this album, he says, “I don’t care about haters/ I only care about what hustlers think.” The proof is in the eating of the pudding. This is not for the meek. This is not for the golf courses. Benny never dives into nihilism. He knows his purpose, but the album is called Burden of Proof because if you are going to be on the streets, you have to prove who you are. Benny has done that and then some. The Butcher is here, and he isn’t respecting old arrangements. He runs this ship now." - Jayson Buford, Consequence of Sound

2 - Yaeji - What We Drew "But while What We Drew is more internalized than past releases, it is not conflicted; rather, Yaeji finds clarity in vulnerability, in the pendulum swing of her humanity. Crucially, the mixtape doesn’t turn its back on one of Yaeji’s strongest traits as an artist: Her music has always been deeply social, and now it is more gregarious than ever in its gratitude for those around her. Some of the best tracks are valentines to the friends and artists who fill Yaeji’s world—and she has been proactive building scenes, from New York to Seoul—and her appreciation for this community feels all the sweeter balanced with her revelations of struggle" - Stacey Anderson, Pitchfork 1 - Various Artists - HOA 011

"Back once again, we assume the role of Vanguard in the war against white supremacy in electronic music. We bring part 2 in a story of black technological expression, from the perspectives of some of its most prolific, alongside much needed new perspectives. HOA010 was a call for a new path. HOA011 we embark.

Too Black, Too Strong." - HAUS of ALTR bandcamp page

[deejay223writes]

The Siren and the Leviathan

As Murrough and Seor approached the ocean, Murrough heard an enchantingly beautiful call emanating from the horizon. He stopped dead in his tracks, transfixed. Seor, however, did not hear anything. Nor did she notice Murrough’s reaction to the ethereal lullaby. She continued walking, intent on her loot as she was. Heavily clad in Ataxian armor, the waves of heat pouring out from her protected her from the bitter cold of the mid-winter ocean spray. Only when she stopped to admire the stars did she realize that Murrough wasn’t standing there with her.

“Murrough?” She called. Looking left and right, she could not see her only friend on this planet Terra. Turning fully around and away from the glittering ocean waves, she spotted Murrough just past the dune ahead. “What are you doing back there?” She called. “Come on over, there’s nothing to be scared of. It’s just a bit of water.” Nothing she said, however, seemed to faze him. He was just standing there, with a joyous expression on his face. His eyes, she noted, seemed to be locked on her, but… her instincts told otherwise. Turning around, drawing her signature weapon, the spear she had dubbed “The Brimstone Lance,” a large, sturdy pike forged out of the hellish material brimstone and the powerful metal she found there. Studying the shoreline, she saw nothing. Looking further out, she thought she saw something under the waves, but when she locked her eyes on it, it vanished. Trick of the moonlight, I suppose, she thinks. Turning back around to face Murrough, she still feels uneasy.

‘Oh, by the Profaned,’ the Siren thought. ‘I think she saw me. I have to be more careful.’ As this new prey wanders over her land, the Siren has begun a song. Her friend, the Leviathan, is perpetually hungry due to her size. The Siren has been trying to get these two out here for a long time, ever since they appeared here on Terra. Their foreign nature has protected them this far, but being so close to the Siren, they can no longer hope to keep their wits about them. ‘That one, however, must still be immune to my calling.’ The Siren thinks. ‘That’s not a good sign. She may still be able to stand up to me. Oh well, she stands no chance against Leviathan with that tiny stick. The man, though… he will be a problem if I cannot keep ahold of him.’

Walking back to Murrough, Seor realizes that her instincts were right. He wasn’t looking at her, rather at something past her. Looking back again, she still sees nothing. “Murrough! Come on, snap out of it! There’s loot to be grabbed down there!” Although that statement got only a mumbled response from Murrough, that was enough for Seor. “Oh good, you do still have a brain in that skull of yours.” Having gotten a satisfactory response from Murrough, she wanders back to the ocean to grab her loot that she heard would be down there. Her armor, forged from the stuff of where demons reside, is more powerful than the entirely nonmagical ocean of Terra. She simply walks down the ocean floor, enjoying the sound that the ocean makes when washing over the armor for a while, then takes off a a full sprint. A few meters in, though, she sees a sea-green mermaid with an orange fin and yellow ram’s horns there, shimmering slightly above the ocean floor. She stares at it for a few seconds, then moves up to it. As she creeps closer, being entirely non-stealthy, the mermaid watches her approach. Once within a meter of the mermaid, Seor notices that it’s mouth is open in an O, her neck pulsing on some sort of rhythm. Even though she hears nothing through the water pressing down on her, watching this mermaid’s neck pulse makes her feel as if she’s never seen anything more beautiful in her whole adventure throughout Terra.

Priding herself on having a logical mind, she snaps herself out of the trance soon after she is pulled into it by the Siren’s seductive magic. Infuriated by how this mermaid tried to take over her mind as she is, she doesn’t notice the faint reverberation through the water. Taking her Brimstone Lance, Seor drives it at full force through the water perfectly at the Siren’s chest. The Siren, having crept closer while Seor was bewitched, was too close for Seor to get a really good hit on, so the Lance glances off of her, what Seor now realizes to be, shimmering scales. Having her prey escape her snare, the Siren now drops all pretense of being beneficial and goes in for the kill, singing her deadly war cry all the while.

Meanwhile, Murrough is still staring over the shining sea at what he believes to be the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Even that steampunk woman back at home pales against this. Murrough, with his magical boots of the angels, walks over the ocean waves to reach this magnificent being. Just as he reaches out to touch her arm, the water below him buckles and not even angelic magic stops him from falling through. Seor and the Siren come bursting out of the water, sending a fountain of starlike water droplets sparkle in the air that would have been beautiful if it weren’t for the traces of blood mixed in with them.

Murrough, having been shocked by the sudden change of temperature as his own Ataxian armor works to warm him, gains a modicum of his senses back. He realizes that if he doesn’t get back above the surface, he will drown. Frantically, he beats his frigid wings of ice to bring his body back on top of the water’s surface. As he alights, his angelic boots start pulling the water below him to be dense enough for standing on. Soon, he is standing above the water yet again, no longer cold due to his armor’s demonic energy. As soon as he recovers from his shock, however, the Siren’s deadly war cry bewitches him yet again, quicker this time because of the Siren now being above water.

Seor’s own wings are losing energy from flitting around the Siren, dodging her deadly gaze. Once or twice she is caught in it, and it singes her through her armor painfully. The Siren, however, is simply perched atop an orange trident, and moving faster than Seor. Having studied how the Siren flies and moves outside of the water, Seor takes off again, but this time aiming to keep the trident facing away from her. Jabbing her Brimstone Lance, she lands a much better hit, yielding her a look of shock that goes as quickly as it comes from the Siren. Still, that brief moment of pain takes the Siren’s concentration away from her war cry, releasing Murrough from his enchantment.

Murrough’s first reaction to this is fear, and then he wipes that away from his mind. Now is not the time for thinking, he thinks. Now is the time for doing. Murrough immediately dashes off towards the shoreline, whipping out his own signature weapon, a bow made out of the stuff of cosmic proportion, the “Astral Greatbow.” Honing his consciousness to a point as sharp as his arrows, he draws, aims and fires at the Siren in less than a second. His arrow leaps from the string as an ethereal twang comes from seemingly the cosmos itself. It flies true, and, by luck or skill, not even Murrough knows, lands on the neck of the Siren.

The Siren’s scales are too tough for any normal arrow to have much of an effect, but the force of the arrow carries on to her neck, and puts a dent in her windpipe for a long time to come, crippling her ability to sing. The harmonic melody suddenly halts as the Siren croaks out a few ugly notes, and shrieks. A terrifying sound, her voice. No longer able to infatuate and charm, the Siren moves to terror and overwhelming panic. Murrough, being the weaker-willed of the two, is too far away for the Siren’s above-water abilities. His arrow-sharp consciousness of a fight is too much for the Siren’s magic, and his mind is too well defended for magic to have an effect. Seor, however, is too close to not be affected somehow. Seor is gripped by fear, but instead of having the desired effect of paralyzation, it only gives her more adrenaline-fueled energy.

The unnatural sound of the Siren’s call is only a fraction, however, of her power. She flies into a frenzy, and moves faster than Seor can react. Only the unholy power of her Ataxian armor saves her from the trident’s piercing power. Seor is thrown back a good twenty meters, and skids along the surface of the ocean before sinking in. The cold shocks her, and renders her incapable of movement for a while. The faint tremor from before that sent Murrough submerging into the water now rises to the tremendous roar of a beast too large for human minds to comprehend.

Murrough continues firing upon the Siren, even as Seor goes down. He recognizes everything logically, but doesn’t allow anything to tear apart his focus.

A beast larger than even the tallest of buildings erupts from the very depths of the ocean, sending waves taller than Murrough, a fully grown man, pulsed outwards from the Leviathan in all directions. Murrough runs to a higher spot on the beach, and barely keeps above the immense amount of water the Leviathan sent hurtling his way. Seor, being beneath the waves, isn’t affected as much, but still feels the presence of an enormous beast flying past, barely missing her.

Seor realizes she stands no chance with her puny little lance against such a humongous creature. She slides out of the ocean surface, buffeted by the waves as she flies out. The Leviathan lets out a roar deep enough to rattle the very bones of the earth, and Seor goes deaf from her proximity to the source of the noise. Aberrations come spewing forth from the Leviathan’s mouth, possibly symbiotic parasites that feed off of her kills. Watching all of this in horror, she realizes that the two of them are going to be hard pressed to defeat these monstrosities together. Apart maybe, but… not together.

An idea strikes Seor. If we can’t beat them together, then we’ll just have to take down one of the to focus the other… So which one? I can’t do much damage to that giant thing, so I suppose it’ll just have to be the mermaid… How do I tell Murrough this without bringing these things down on top of him? No solutions come to mind, so Seor instead opts to simply keep smacking the Siren. Hopefully, Murrough will realize what I’m doing. As such, Seor continues to attack the Siren, hoping that Murrough will not be harassed by this giant creature, and that he will notice what’s going on.

What’s she doing? Murrough wonders. She isn’t even bothering to attack that beast… is it an illusion? Curious, he fires off a few shots at the Leviathan. When none of them seem to have any effect, he concludes that it must be an illusion concocted by the mermaid-thing. Wow… to think that there’s a creature so powerful that it can make such realistic and large illusions… it must be powerful indeed. That matter having been smoothed out, he returns his attention to the Siren. Since Seor has already found out that the giant beast is an illusion already, I suppose I should just focus on the mermaid-thing.

He continues to focus fire on the Siren until he notices, out of the corner of his eye, that there is a thing swimming up to him. Instinctually, he turns and fires a shot that pierces straight through the space between its eyes. Upon further inspection, he notes that it is the same creature that has been coming out of the gigantic beast’s mouth. Oh. He thinks. Oh no. That thing isn’t an illusion. He turns his gaze back to the Leviathan, looking like a deer in headlights. Oh my gods. We can’t fight both of them! He thinks. They’re too strong together. Maybe separately, but together? No… OH. SHE’S A GENIUS! Realizing what Seor is doing, exhilarated, he turns back on the Siren, now looking worse for wear from Seor’s consistent stabbing, and fires even more rapidly now. This could work.

As Seor tires from the multiple minutes this fighting goes on for, she starts to worry that Murrough, the blockhead that he is, hasn’t realized what she’s doing. Until the Siren gets an arrow in her butt, that is. Finally, an attack has gotten through the Siren’s unrealistically tough scales, and it distracts her from the fight for just a moment. That moment, however small it is, is still crucial. It is large enough for Seor to get in a good solid hit, and the Brimstone Lance punctures her hide with a hole much larger than an arrow. Pulling it back out, Seor glimpses her unholy pike’s brimstone inferno burning away at the Siren’s flesh. She wails, and falls off of her trident, back into the ocean.

In the brief moment of victory Seor and Murrough might have had, the Leviathan lets out a mighty roar. Seor, in her deafened state, only gets a forewarning of a deep vibration that goes through her core before the Leviathan, enraged by the loss of its only friend in the world, the thing that the Leviathan clove off half of her body for, lunges at Seor, swallowing her whole.

Suddenly, Seor can no longer see. Any light that might have gotten through to her is blocked off by thick Leviathan flesh. Seor, not realizing what happened, loses her balance on the Leviathan’s enormous tongue. Panicking, she stabs her Brimstone Lance into the Leviathan’s tongue, making a relatively small hole in such a giant thing. Thankfully, the brimstone on her lance starts burning the Leviathan’s tongue, and starts making some light to see by. The pain from a tongue burning from brimstone is too much for the Leviathan, and she lets out a wail. The Brimstone Lance burns away the hold that Seor had, and the Leviathan crying out launches Seor out and away from the Leviathan. The Leviathan submerges its head, trying to ease the pain that brimstone inflicts. Sadly for her, brimstone is not quenched from ordinary water. The brimstone continues to burn away at her tongue, and blocks the mind from any senses but pain for a few seconds.

During those short few seconds, Murrough manages to fire off some more arrows into the Leviathan, making the burning even worse as the cosmic bow launches the arrows at high velocity into the roof of The Leviathan’s mouth. Pushing her tongue on the roof of her mouth now only makes the burning worse, and she ceases her yowling. Seor recovers from how far she was thrown, and flies back to the Leviathan for another jab, this time aiming for the eyes.

Seor’s aim is true, and the Brimstone Lance is half-buried into the Leviathan’s pupil, viciously crippling her for the rest of her life. The Leviathan, in too much pain to even think straight, retreats, intending to heal and recover. Seor starts after it, but is met with a croaking screech from behind her. Not prepared for the Siren’s magical assault, Seor is paralyzed with fear. Curling up into a ball, she falls into the ocean, only to come out too late to follow the Leviathan and the Siren back to their hiding place.

[silverspun-fr]

Life at the Rounds

Just a glimpse of life in the Thorim Rift military--and a sort of introduction for every in-lair member of the military in one place. I really enjoyed writing this.

If anyone wants to be pinged for any of my storylines or whatnot, let me know!

@majestyrising - for Decadence. XD

~~~~

While the politicians had The Wheel, portioned off in eleven places for the eleven flights, the military of Thorim Rift, containing its three distinct branches, conglomerated in the Tribar. Basically an amplified barracks of three elongated buildings constructed around a central building where the real work took place. Similar in form to the Flight Conference Hall, or the Wheel, but the Eye is what watched both outwards and inwards for issues at large. Mostly outwards, since the Paladins of the Wheel dealt with the internal struggles and lives of the differing flights within. The Eye is where the Generals met, where the Commandant both lived and worked, and where the other ranking soldiers did their daily duties. There the three branches operated as a single force, where mages, warriors, and tacticians of all sorts gathered for the well-being and protection of their magnificent city. But the Tribar—or the triple barracks—housed the soldiers of each branch separately and inspired the continued hazing each separate section of the military maintained with the other. Good-natured hazing, of course. Usually.

For the warriors under General Zenthra, their barracks was known for their strict hours and rules, enforced by her frankly terrifying son, Daedalus. They were tough, brutal, but fashioned warriors out of mere dragons, creatures that would withstand any pressure, any fire without hesitancy or fear.

The mages, charged under General Vizanti, had stranger rules, though they were no less strict and demanding. They boasted the largest library and a certain number of hours of study were expected of them all. They were sharp, quick, and liked to keep at a distance. Their least favorite drills were with the warriors, learning how to defend one’s self from a physical attack if energy ran low and magic was not immediately available.

Lastly, the tacticians. General Cassian commanded the most divergent of branches, consisting of ground and air men. Forerunning scouts and stealth infiltrators for gathering information, airships and bare fliers all made up the tactician ranks. It was the smallest branch, but a proven necessity, and the Commandant wouldn’t have his military without them and their diversity both in people and in thought.

And yet, despite all the differences and the jibes, the commons in the Eye was a gathering place for all. The lower floor of the broad, round building had been fashioned into a mess and an assortment of lounges, both big and small, where soldiers of any sort could gather and relax, kick back for a while and lick training field wounds. Share a story or two.

“…and I said, listen—” Decadence, otherwise known as Cade, or Cad depending on who you asked, was standing in the middle of a span of sofas and couches, his hands up in a placating manner while emulating a conversation previously had. “Listen. It’s not that I don’t like the style, but I think it could use a little touch-up around the edges.”

“You did not,” Johari hooted, clapping a hand over her eyes, already laughing. She was sprawled on a long sofa, sitting perpendicular to another tundra who looked a little more keen on watching her reaction rather than Cade’s presentation, but Orvar just couldn’t resist turning back to the guardian when Cade began to wave his arms frantically, brushing off the denial.

“I did so! I said exactly that! I swear to Plaguemother that her face just went paler than her white silks. I saw them; they were on the rack behind her, and she just blended right in like a chameleon and where’d she go? I could have probably died and you’d all be wearing underpants dipped in my blood.”

“Oh, that’s just disgusting,” Orvar snorted, wrinkling his nose. “Everything would rot away with your blood.”

“Probably,” Cade nodded, pushing his shaggy ashen hair back out of his face. “But that’s not the best part.”

“That’s not even a good part,” Katenka muttered, sipping a glass of cheap wine and shaking her head.

Cade spread his hands, earning their attention again. “No, the best part is? She actually agreed with me.” It was dead silent for a moment, all eyes on him. He nodded. “She did! I swear it; she looked me dead in the eye, white as a sheet, and just—crumbled. She couldn’t believe I noticed! Said her whole ­line was ruined because this idiot,” pointing to himself, “could spot the defect! And! And!” He patted the air, getting them all quiet before they burst into laughter. “She tells me, ‘Don’t you dare say a word about this, Decadence! Or I’ll sew all your uniform collars up so small you’ll suffocate.’ So I just shrugged real big and said, ‘FINE BY ME, KARI. IT’S BETTER THAN BEING A SLOW-BURNNED SOPRANO’!”

Now Decadence let them all roar with laughter, he finally able to join in, nearly doubled over himself with mirth over the mere memory. Above them all, though, a deep, booming roll of thunder rose from Daedalus seated nearly across the room. The silk merchant in question, the ever-affable Makari, has been Daedalus’ Charge for years now, and he knew the pearlcatcher better than the rest. He also seemed to dislike her the most, and yet thrived on making her life as bothersome and difficult as possible, despite constantly going into the city to check on her and ruffle her feathers. Her connection with the Daedalus is what brought her to being the commissioned seamstress for the military, and she is second to none in her craft for miles and miles around Thorim Rift. But her frilly attitude just made it so easy to tease her.

Slapping the counter where he sat, Daedalus chuckled deeply as he rose, setting his empty glass down. “Think I’ll go pay her a visit. Thank her for the entertainment.” He still chuckled as he went, his deep voice carrying still even from well down the hallway.

As for the rest of the group, they still chuckled, but mostly had fallen quiet, appreciative of Cade’s way with storytelling. He’d taken a seat himself, filling a broad chair and grinning like a proud fool, loving his moments in the limelight.

In the silence that followed, Katenka rose from her stool. Her aviation jacket was unbuttoned down the front, which was about as relaxed as she ever liked to be while in public. She raised her glass to the small group. “That’s me heading off. I’ve got some navigation charts to look over before tomorrow. Are you coming, Farid?”

The man in question, sprawled across a whole couch and appearing asleep, lifted a hand from where it dangled to the floor and raised his hat off his face, blinking at her with deep blue eyes. “No, I’m good. Unless you need my last topographical sheet.”

Katenka narrowed her eyes in thought. “Not to burst your relaxing time, but that would be good.”

“No worries,” he grunted, sitting up and throwing his feet off the couch to the floor to stand. “Might as well get myself going again. I’ve got an evening drill to do later.”

“You know, I enjoy those,” Katenka mused, waiting for him so they could walk out together.

“Do you?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty neat from the air. See you guys later,” she called, briefly turning back to the three still in the room. “The sunset makes everything look out of sorts.”

“Yeah…. What were you drinking, by the way?”

“Oh, this? Something that would make my mother cry, probably. She’s a vintner and would kill me for consuming something so bland.”

Their conversation faded as they left, leaning Decadence, Johari, and Orvar left. Still highly amused, Cade drummed his fingers on the arm rests, quite unaware of the shift the room had taken, even while the two tundras stared at him.

Well. One stared at him.

Orvar, trying his best not to be so obvious, stared hard at the thick-headed guardian, silently wishing Decadence would go so he and Johari could have some conversation alone. But Cade just sat there, smirking to himself, completely oblivious. And after Orvar had already explained his desire to have one-on-one with the illustrious captain herself.

The silence extended for too long, though, and eventually Johari rose as well. “Guess I’ll see you two later. Don’t be late in the morning, Cade.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he chirped, beaming as she turned to go, but the expression fled when he caught Orvar’s baleful glower. Jarred by sudden, and late, recollection, Cade mouthed, I’m sorry! And waved his hands in a shooing motion, indicating that Orvar should just go with her.

Orvar jabbed an accusing finger in Cade’s direction, but the guardian only waved harder, glancing at the door as Johari left before he stood and rushed Orvar. All that boisterous beef running at him would have made anyone startle, and for a second he froze. Too long. Cade had him by the shirt front, hauling him off the couch and manhandling him towards the door. Their silent argument consisted of varying ‘stop it’s and ‘just go after her’s until Cade shoved Orvar out of the lounge, kicking the doorframe so Johari looked back in question, forcing Orvar to straighten and address her.

“Hey,” he waved. “Um. Mind if I walk with you a bit?” Never mind that the mage barracks was almost opposite of the warrior’s. Sort of. It was a fairly even circle all the way around and—never mind.

Johari gave him a once-over, then shrugged a shoulder. “Sure, Tenders.”

Biting back a groan, he ducked his head for a second before pushing forward to join her. “That’s really not fair, you know. It was my first ring brawl.”

“Then you should have kept your explosives to yourself,” she chuckled, glancing at him. Her brown eyes were so rich, so dark against the near golden hue of her skin tone. Ugh, he sounded like a fool.

“Right,” he muttered, rubbing his chin a couple times. “There’s a good reason for that.”

“Yeah? Better get to explaining it before I make up my mind, then.”

Startled, Orvar looked to her, finding Johari already looking him dead in the face. They both stopped—he slowing when she halted, expectant and…frankly, almost intimidating. But he liked that about her. Has ever since she kicked his tail in the ring brawl. Her spotting him had been his own fault, too, when the light magic he’d been playing with just backfired, singeing his hair and eyebrows. They’ve started to grow back, though, thankfully.

“Um,” he began stupidly, and she immediately turned on her heels to go. Reaching out for her arm, gently, no tugging—he didn’t want broken fingers—Orvar tried again, forcing his voice not to waver with any hint of uncertainty. “I’m just a mage; I get that. And I don’t mean any disrespect, Captain, but I’d like to get to know you better. On and off the training field.”

Unsurprisingly, she challenged, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

If she thought he’d have a hard time meeting her scrutinizing gaze, she’d have to guess again. She’d also probably hit him if she knew the withstood by just getting lost in the color of them. So brown. Has he ever seen a brown that nice? Probably not.

“Mostly off the field, I’m guessing.” She severed his concentration, but he only smiled.

“Both, actually. Physicality in a fight isn’t my style, but it’s always good to have the range for when the one up front can’t look behind their back.”

For the first time during this conversation Johari cracked a smile. “Good point. You wanna have my back? You’ve gotta earn it, Tenders.”

“Absolutely,” he grinned. “I’ll earn a less unfortunate nickname, too.”

“Keep dreaming.”

[sambethe]

All right, @kliomuse, @ooshka-babooshka, @natascha-remi-ronin, & @ransomideas, thoughts on The Handmaid’s Tale 1x07 - The Other Side below the cut.

So, yes, picking up on what @ooshka-babooshka said, this episode definitely fits a more conventional narrative, as did last week in many respects. Correspondingly, as I mentioned, my reactions have been less visceral and I haven’t burst out in tears. It doesn’t mean it isn’t as moving, but these two have felt less personal and less stifling. Perhaps that has to do with the movement of the lens outward away from Offred just a bit?

I find it interesting that there has been a thread going among some of my friends on FB about the show with a lot of negative criticism, mostly charges of the show pandering to tragedy porn. I don’t agree, but that’s a story for another day. What I’ve found interesting is that the most vocal critics only began to enjoy the show with these last two episodes and I’m trying to sort through what to make of it.

It is terribly interesting to see how the world expands and contracts. I agree with Cass that episode 6′s one large misstep was that final scene with Offred and the Mexican delegate. While I loved hearing what she had to say, I don’t really buy that Offred would have said it. I don’t think she would have had any level of trust that she wouldn’t have been turned on for giving voice to her true thoughts. That said, for all that we’ve now seen of the wider world, the others' inability to help and, in fact, their willingness to collude and partake in what Gilead has done and is doing almost increases the hopelessness. 

But back to Luke and this week’s focus on him, what struck me most was his palpable dismay at finding out their visas are worthless, that their passports are meaningless. It was like watching someone really realize for the first time that the system has stacked the deck. For someone (in this world a man) for whom things have always worked, for whom the rules have always played to his benefit, that first real encounter with bureaucracy where you find out you actually have no power - well, you saw the reaction in his face. He played by all the rules, he did it the right way, and yet it still wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, because you’re on the wrong side. Whatever the other side decided was the wrong side this week. 

Welcome to what June and Moira were telling you, Luke. 

Amazing how hard it is to truly empathize until it is you facing the capriciousness of it all. 

[Perhaps I’m still irritated at Luke for his earlier condescension?]

That said, I can’t imagine how horrible it is to drug your own kid and pack her and yourselves into a trunk and rely on a man you don’t know to get you somewhere safe. That was terrifying enough just watching it.

My last thought in the end is of Hannah. It’s been three years, so what is she now, about 8? I was trying to gauge her height and vocabulary to get a sense of age. If and when we do meet her, it is going to be heartbreaking. The years she’ll have been educated by Gilead are formative. 

Though it does make me wonder, how does the government intend to upkeep the structure they’ve set with the new generation? Or will there not be a need for the Marthas and the handmaids going forward? How do you decide which children get placed on which of the structural rungs? Do they have some alternate plan for society as the older generation dies off? How do they think they might sustain themselves?

The other question I’m left with: does Luke have any idea about the handmaids in Gilead? Does he have a sense of what June is experiencing? 

I assume next week we’ll be back with Offred. I’ll be curious how I feel about things as the world contracts back in again as we return.

[docfuture]

The Maker’s Ark - Chapter 34

     [This is a chapter from my latest novel, a sequel to The Fall of Doc Future and Skybreaker’s Call.  The start is here, and links to my other work here.  It can be read on its own, but contains spoilers for those two books.  I try to post new chapters about every two weeks, but I’m currently also rewriting Fall, so there will sometimes be short stories and vignettes if I don’t have a new chapter ready.  The next chapter is planned for the week of February 21st.]

Previous:  Chapter 33

      Fits and starts.  Flicker knew that was how real research worked.  And things had been going too smoothly.         Doc had built a test rig, Stella had provided a repurposed Xelian construction shelter for a deep space station, and Three had towed it into position with one of her ships--and set up the sunshade.       It was in a solar orbit at what Journeyman called a 'sweet spot':  It was closer to the the sun, so the net total of orbital kinetic energy and gravitational potential energy matched that of the surface of the Earth as closely as possible.  That cut down on the compensation he had to do to port there and back--distance didn't matter, but energy did.       He had been able to establish a connection to a small, spherical space that should have a speed of light that varied radially--lower toward the center and the same as Earth's at the outer edge.  It didn't start off containing any mass, and had no difference in vacuum pressure at the boundary.  Everything else, he still wasn't sure about.       The first automated tests on the restricted portal he'd set up before porting out for safety had gone fine, as far as Doc was concerned.  No explosions or waves of mass to energy conversion had come back when the small test probes went through.  The probes hadn't come back, either.  But no one had really expected that--the far side was likely to be pretty unforgiving to anything electronic.  That had been yesterday.       In the meantime, Flicker had practiced flying in space--slowly--without panicking.  She could manage about two g's now.  The Skystone protected her from vacuum, but she kept a full pressure mask on; air made it much easier to talk.  She still kept reaching out reflexively for mass for stabilization--but she was down to about to fifty times a second.  When she was calm.       Now she floated beside Journeyman, doing her best to stay calm while he muttered to himself and retraced a section of pattern on the base slab so they could continue the tests.  They'd tried a few more probes--nothing had come back yet except some barely detectable radiation.  Not the magic homing bead, not any of the diamond nanoparticles from Doc's mechanical release device, not the end of the titanium wire Flicker had poked through.       Then something only Journeyman could detect had started to vary slightly, and the radiation readings had worried Doc, so there was nothing for it but to recheck.  Flicker had nothing constructive to contribute, and she knew better than to pester Journeyman with questions he didn't know the answers to yet.  She thought longingly about the nearest significant mass.  Venus was about twenty million kilometers thataway.  Not much help.       Three's ship and the Learning Is About To Occur kept watch from several hundred kilometers out.  The two of them were doing their best to cheer her up and distract her while she waited--with mixed success.  At least it gave Flicker someone to complain to with millisecond latency.  DASI's main nodes and Doc were both back on Earth, minutes away.       "Is Journeyman still ranting about the gloves on his suit?" asked Three.       "Yeah," said Flicker.  "It's a fair complaint, though.  We're doing everything in a high vacuum and Journeyman is a gesture and pattern magician.  Nobody has yet been able to make pressure gloves that don't interfere with fine manipulation."       "It is an interesting problem," said Learning.  He had a pleasant tenor voice and a habit of casually tossing out mind-boggling suggestions.  "I wonder if a magician could use a biogestalt to operate a humaniform remote for vacuum work.  Has that been tried?"       "Ah... not that I know of," said Three.  "And I'm not sure a biogestalt would be able to use probability manipulation at all."       "Surely you jest.  The most impressive act of probability manipulation on Earth that I'm aware of was performed by a biogestalt."       "What are you talking about?" asked Three, saving Flicker the trouble.       "Flicker's serial contingent causality reconnection during the Xelian fleet attack, to avoid the randomized beam strikes.  It was powerful enough that subtle effects from it were detected propagating outward from the far side of the portal zone to Grs'thnk, though they were not recognized as such at the time."       "It was detectable in another universe?" said Three.  "That's both disturbing and something Flicker and I should already have been told.  Why--"       "Just a moment, please," said Flicker.  "Since when am I a biogestalt?"       "Does the term offend?" said Learning.  "You refer to that part of you as your 'high speed mind', but it seems to operate in a similar fashion.  That is clear from the mishaps you've experienced.  I did a first principles analysis during the period of concern over your commandeering of computational resources.  I concluded that it matched a high speed biogestalt multiplicity cascade better than an unconstrained AI launch, which reassured the aid mission leadership somewhat."       "And you didn't tell DASI?" said Flicker.  "Hell, why didn't you tell me?"       "I didn't have permission.  Biogestalt theory is on the restricted list, because of the potential for abuse--it contributes to several significant Grs'thnk social problems, though disagreement about how much makes that a politically sensitive topic.  Official aid mission policy is to avoid sharing new problems with Earth when they've barely started helping with your existing ones.  And Doc has an unfavorable view of biogestalts which is well justified at Earth's current technology level.  The embassy leadership is discussing sharing the data with Director Reinhart and DASI given its new relevance, but, like all political questions, a long period of wrangling argument is required first.  There is a book you might find helpful, once it becomes available."       "What is it?" asked Flicker       "A History of Biogestalt Development and Pathology, Volume One, Fourteenth Edition.  It's the standard reference used in the biogestalt prep sequence at the Grs'thnk Naval Academy.  I'm told it's a bit dry for bios, but I found it fascinating."       "A biogestalt in my own body...  I need that book yesterday.  I need that book last month.  Wait a minute--the restriction you have on talking directly to DASI is a political one, set by the aid mission, correct?"       "Yes," said Learning.  "However, it--"       Flicker bared her teeth.  "You want to share data responsibly--but you can't, because you'll get in trouble if you do.  And I have a veto.  They gave me one.  I've never used it before, but I think I'm about to.  Three, what's the relevant agreement?"       "That would be the Preliminary Protocol on Data Sharing, Restrictions and Limitations.  But I'm not sure--"       "Great.  I'll veto it, then ask Learning to share any data whose absence is compromising Earth's military security.  I know there's an agreement for that.  And they can sort everything out again, after the transfers."       "Flicker," said Three.  "This is politics.  Will you at least let me try finesse?  Prime is busy, but give me ten minutes and the threat of your veto, and I bet I can get things moving.  Without calling into question an agreement that was very painful to negotiate in the first place.  It won't be an idle threat, and they'll know it.  And, just between us biogestalts, I have a stake here too."       "Oh.  Yeah.  I guess they could pull Learning out on military orders.  I can't do anything about that.  Okay, try your way.  But make sure they know I'm pretty angry.  If this 'multiplicity cascade' is a documented problem, DASI and I not knowing about it probably cost me a couple hundred subjective years during my bender.  And who knows what else."       "Don't worry, I will."       Flicker thought for a moment.  "And Learning?  I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blow up.  You were just trying to help."       "No apology needed," he said.  "Learning is about to occur.  I am content."       "Heh.  Yeah.  Some already has.  And I need to go--looks like Journeyman has finally fixed whatever it was.  Thanks."       "You're welcome.  And good luck."       *****       Flicker sped up her mind so everything happened with glacial slowness, and she clamped down hard on her hand with her power--no molecular rearrangement allowed.  A bit extreme, maybe, but she didn't know yet what was required, and she didn't want to find out by not doing enough.       She flicked the tip of her left little finger into the portal, then immediately pulled it back out again.  It was on the far side for about a microsecond.  There had been a slight tingling from her proprioception sense, but that was all.       She hadn't lost any skin, and there seemed to be no ill effects.  There didn't seem to be any effects at all, except--       A spark jumped from the portal boundary to the tip of her finger.  It was a considerable jolt--it heated up her finger noticeably.       She'd expected to lose some electrons on the far side; the chemistry was going to be different.  It didn't really matter how--she wasn't allowing any chemical reactions.  But that made her electrons unhappy, unhappy electrons tended to wander, and they hadn't all made it back out with her finger.       The interesting thing was that a lot of them seemed to have made it back out on their own, after a delay.  Or the charge imbalance had pulled out other ones--electrons were interchangeable.  She checked the sensor readings on her visor--she still had a positive static charge, but it wasn't nearly as large as it had been at first.       She slowed back down.  Time to see what everyone else thought.       "Radiation--" began Journeyman, then he stopped.  "Oh.  That's just charge equalization.  You okay?"       "Green," she replied.  "Played a mini-game of lightning tag, but that's it.  My finger seems fine--I'm getting feeling back now."       She held up her hand to look at it.  Nothing seemed different.  All she felt was the now familiar pressure of the Skystone protecting her from the vacuum--she'd kept her glove off for the test.       "Three?" Flicker asked over her com.  "You have any initial impressions?"       "The radiation from the boundary spiked, then dropped off," said Three.  "The spike was almost entirely electrons.  I think Doc is right--the earlier radiation we saw was a result of the far side not quite being a vacuum anymore, because of the probes."       "Cool."  Flicker turned to smile at Journeyman, who had come out from behind the radiation and blast shield.  "We have an existence proof!  Matter can can stay intact on the far side, if it's me."       "The part of you that isn't electrons, anyway," he said.       "Yeah.  That could be a problem.  If I lose them all, then they all return at once when I come back, that's a lot of energy.  And I can't entropy dump here, except to the heat sink."       The heat sink was a big chunk of ice, loosly contained in plastic, attached to the outside of the shelter on the other side of a blast shield.  It gave Flicker something to connect to, if she needed to dump excess heat in an emergency.  A small enough one, anyway.       "But the charges should start to equalize after a while," she continued.  "Some variant of the electromagnetic force has to be operating on the far side, or I wouldn't have gotten that zap--it would just be a steady flow.  And the strong nuclear force is working fine, or I wouldn't have gotten the tip of my finger back at all."       "All right, let's try some repeats, and see just how much charge you lose, and if the spark and the radiation spike happen every time."       Ten minutes later, he was back to muttering to himself, and Flicker was getting impatient.       "I don't understand," he said.  "We're getting variance, but there's either some variable other than mass, surface area, acceleration, and time spent on the far side, or a lot of randomness.  At least it doesn't seem too dangerous."       "Yeah.  I want to try to sticking my whole hand through and leaving it there for a good second or two.  The whole point of these tests is to see if I can operate on the other side, and we haven't gotten much closer to finding that out yet."       She watched his eyes through the faceplate of his suit, and heard him sigh.  "Not exactly safe, but none of this is safe."       "No.  But there's no other way to find out."       "All right.  But if you flash the red alarm, we are out of here.  Antarctica, so you can dump, then get somewhere to heal.  Whether your hand is all the way back or not.  You clear on that?"       "Yeah."       "Okay."  He moved back behind the shield.  "Ready when you are."

      The first hint Flicker felt that something was wrong was an itching sensation from the high speed nervous system in her hand.  Little feedback made it across the portal boundary.  She could tell her hand was still there, and that her power was keeping it intact, but that was about it.  That had been a bit worrying at first, but as long as she could keep things stable, her hand should be okay.       But this was new.  Something was trying to happen, and she was preventing it, but there was resistance--and it was growing.  What could be--       No.  The correct response to something new and unexpected was to pull her hand back.  She started to, carefully.       Then she began to get proper sensation back from the part of her wrist that had been on the far side of the portal.  It was hot--and getting hotter.  Not the surface either, this was deep inside.       Enough of careful.  She stayed clamped down and jerked her hand the rest of the way out, at full power.       And all hell broke loose.       The radiation alarms started screaming and flashing, she started dumping to the heat sink and it wasn't enough, and what was wrong with the water molecules in her hand?  They were still heating up, and--       Oh.  Oh no.       She hit the red alarm and did cold calculations in her mind.  Journeyman had superhuman reflexes, magically enhanced.  A millisecond to port to her, another millisecond to port both of them to Antarctica.  Would he be fast enough?       He would be.  She'd make sure of it.  She pivoted slightly, and pulled her hand in.  It was already putting out neutrons and hard gamma.  The Skystone was protecting her so far, but it didn't stop everything, and all she had to shield Journeyman was the rest of her body.       Then there was the heat.       She pulled it inside, away from the surface, so it wouldn't cook Journeyman in the time they needed.  She'd have one last chance to get rid of some before they ported out.       She felt him appearing, close behind her, and she hard dumped to the heat sink, which flashed from ice into superheated steam.  She was sloppy--she got some into the blast shield, too.  But that wouldn't matter, they'd be gone before the shockwave hit.       Then he started the second port, his little pocket universe closing in around the two of them, and she had to hold the heat in.  Her hand was at forty thousand K and climbing--her power was all that was keeping it solid.  And it was getting worse, fast.  She moved as much of the heat as she dared into the rest of her body.  There wasn't anywhere else.       She remembered her first trip to the moon, and just how bad things could get.  But she needed to keep it away from Journeyman--he was the fragile one.       Five hundred microseconds into the second port and her hand was up to two million K, and it started getting worse faster, again.       Eight hundred microseconds.  Ten million K.  Journeyman was getting a big dose of hard X-rays--but most of them would go right through, and the real enemy was heat.       Antarctica.  Mass.  And she could finally move.  She entropy dumped to the ice in all directions as she accelerated away from Journeyman with ten billion g's of relief.       Then she was far enough clear to let the heat surface, vaporizing her costume in a wave of plasma as she started radiative cooling, doing everything she could to quench the burning from a hand filled with nuclear fire.

Next:  Chapter 35

[downtowns-universe]

52 stories #29

Writing blog prompt there is no prompt I do what I want

Characters: Zian, Dai, Tharryn

Words: 3184

(part 1)

Dai just stared at him blankly.

“You didn’t think to mention that earlier?”

“I just woke up! And I didn’t want to mention it in front of Oleander. He’s got enough to worry about already.”

“This could have gone wrong in so many ways,” Dai sighed.

“But it didn’t,” Zian reminded him.

“…Let’s just get you to Tharryn before it does.”

They navigated the town’s streets towards the nearest portal without speaking a word. Perhaps it was the smart thing to do, so people on the streets wouldn’t see them arguing.

Zian felt perfectly normal, and even after inspecting himself couldn’t find any hint of the strange powers he’d absorbed, only the remainder of the energy Dai had transferred to him. He felt strong, ready to take on anything, but he knew that using any of his abilities would be risky right now. He needed to make sure not to trigger anything until they knew what they were dealing with.

 They found Tharryn in the library, reading a book in one of his comfy chairs. He was only half watching a news broadcast, seemingly reporting about the incessant darkness in various parts of the country. Aerina was lying on the floor, drawing what appeared to be monsters with crayons.

“You fixed it?” Tharryn asked without looking up. Zian could tell he was trying to act annoyed and to ignore them for leaving him out of this. It wasn’t very convincing.

“Sort of,” Dai answered.

Zian noticed his phone was still buzzing. Dai kept ignoring it.

“They have to rebuild the cycle,” Zian explained. “Might take a couple of weeks. But we did stop it from exploding and spreading some weird anomaly.”

“Anomaly?” Tharryn finally looked up from his book and put it away.

“Someone set off a bomb, which released some kind of creature,” Zian explained.

“Allegedly,” Dai added. “No one’s actually seen it, but Zian said it was there. Guess we’ll find out soon enough, because…”

“We’ll get to that later,” Zian interrupted him. He’d been thinking of how to formulate his explanation to Tharryn on the way here, and he was going to say it before he’d forget again.

“The spells controlling the cycle were kept in a state of continuous destruction, generating large amounts of energy.”

“And you’ve absorbed that energy,” Tharryn observed.

“We did. The energy was going to build up inside of the time bubble until it exploded, so Dai gave some of it to me and I was able to freeze the bubble and disrupt the process. It… still exploded, but with a smaller force than it could have been, and Dai shielded it off as much as possible.”

“There’s nothing left of the cycle?”

Zian shook his head.

“Just the building. And the schematics Oleander secured, of course.”

“Rebuilding it is going to take weeks…” Tharryn mumbled to himself.

“Yeah, probably. I’m going to try to help, though.”

“Not until we fix you up, you don’t,” Dai protested.

“Fix him up? …What did you do now?”

“It’s no big deal!” Zian shrugged it off. “I feel fine.”

“I’ll leave that to Tharryn to decide.”

Dai glanced at his phone.

“I really should go. They expect a reaction to what’s happened.”

“What will you tell them?”

“That the situation is under control. Which it is. We’ll have a few unpredictable weeks, but there’s nothing to worry about, really. We’re not afraid of the dark.”

He disappeared through the portal. As soon as he left, Tharryn slowly turned towards Zian again.

“So, what did you do?”

“I absorbed all the energy that caused the cycle to break down,” he tried to say as casually as possible.

“…Why?”

“I had to put it somewhere! And there wasn’t really anything around that I could use.”

Tharryn sighed.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

“I do, in fact. But I didn’t really have any other option.”

“Dai mentioned there was a creature?”

“I, uh… yeah. I haven’t seen it, but I felt something there when I froze everything. There was something still trying to wiggle free from my grip.”

“And you absorbed it too,” Tharryn sighed, needing no more explanation to fill in the blanks.

“I did. At least, I assume I did. Can’t feel its presence at all.”

“Alright, come with me.”

Tharryn closed his book and got up.

“Aerina, don’t forget your homework.”

“Fiiiiine,” the little girl sighed, but she kept drawing.

They left the library and walked through one of the Citadel’s hallways, until Tharryn stopped at a closed door. With a hand motion he removed the magical lock and went inside. Zian followed him. There didn’t seem to be much in the room, just spells on the walls and floor. Tharryn procured an energy container from his robes – did he always keep those at hand? – and placed it on the floor.

“Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

“Do I have to do anything?”

“Not really, just stand there.”

Tharryn placed a hand to his chest. Zian could feel his energy probing around, scanning every inch of him. He studied his face for a reaction, but he was impossible to read, as usual.

“Charge?” he requested after a while.

Zian called upon his powers, keeping them at the ready, but not using them for anything. His charge was stronger than usual, but it didn’t surprise him because of the leftover energy.

“Hm-hmm,” Tharryn said, still impossible to read.

He knelt down and started drawing circles around the containment unit.

“Well?” Zian asked, getting impatient.

“We’re going to have to get this out of you,” Tharryn said without looking up.

“That bad?”

There was no reaction. Zian didn’t think that was a very good sign.

“Did you find the creature?” he tried again.

“Not yet.”

“Yet? So you will?”

“I might. Right now it’s hiding somewhere in that overload of energy. If it’s even there.”

“Makes sense. I can’t feel it at all. Any idea what it could be?”

“Not yet. I have some books that might know more, but first we need to isolate it.”

Zian looked on as Tharryn started to connect the circles with spirally lines and symbols. Then he picked up a ruler – where had he been keeping that? – and drew some straight lines from the middle circle around the container and outwards. One of the lines was longer than the others, and at the end of it Tharryn drew another circle. After adding some symbols to it, he gestured for Zian to go stand inside it, while he procured a white powder and sprinkled it onto the straight line connecting them.

“What do I do?” Zian asked.

“Nothing. Just stand in the circle.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Let’s get started,” Tharryn said, activating some magic behind his back.

The activating spells, stirring the energy inside of him, felt tingly at first. Then it was like a rush, as it started to move faster and faster – looking for a way out, maybe? Zian wasn’t quite sure what was happening, only that his ears were buzzing and he had to put effort into staying upright. The flow of his energy had become a wild river and he wasn’t going to be able to stay afloat for much longer. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed while in this state, and at times Zian had the impression that time was being manipulated, but he couldn’t figure out whether it was him doing it or not. From time to time he could feel something stirring, something that felt familiar but also very alien. Just when he detected it again, it was like someone had pulled a plug: all of the energy suddenly came rushing out, into the lines of the spell and towards the container. He felt the thing slither along with the stream as the world around him turned black.

 When he woke up he was lying on a couch, a rough blanket draped over him. A familiar feeling told him it had been a couple of hours since his arrival – six hours and forty-seven minutes, to be precise. He swung his legs over the edge and sat up, immediately feeling faint. Had Tharryn taken all of his energy? He tried his charge and it was very weak, barely even there. Seemed like he had.

He’d been placed in the library, so he figured Tharryn wouldn’t be far off. A table close by was littered with books, a cup of coffee standing amidst them. Knowing Tharryn, it would probably be cold. Getting up cost some effort but once he was standing he was able to support himself on the bookshelves and shuffle along. A glimpse at the books told him that most of them were about creatures, although there were also some spell books. Just as he’d turned around to go look for him, Tharryn appeared from behind a shelf, carrying more books.

“You shouldn’t be up,” he said as he hurried towards the table to put them down.

“In fact, you shouldn’t even be awake.”

He grabbed Zian’s arm and guided him back towards the couch. Zian sat down and grabbed his head to fight the dizziness.

“What did you do? I’m… not feeling so great.”

“I tried to sequestrate, but it was ineffective, so…”

“You did what?”

Tharryn reconsidered and tried again.

“I tried to isolate the strange energy from your own to be able to capture it, but couldn’t manage to separate the two, so I took everything. I’m still working on separating them inside the container, where it can’t hurt you, but it’s a work in progress.”

“You took all of my energy?!”

“It was necessary. Whatever you were harnessing, it was unstable and dangerous. I couldn’t risk any of it being left there. When I manage to clear your energy, you can have it back – if you haven’t recovered by then, that is. It’s remarkable, I expected you to be out for at least another two hours.”

“Guess I’m stronger than you thought,” Zian grinned.

“This has nothing to do with strength.”

Tharryn walked back to the table.

“I don’t want you off that couch for the next hour.”

“But I’ll be bored!” Zian protested.

Tharryn picked up a book that had been opened on a specific chapter, and brought it to him.

“See if any of this sounds familiar to you,” he said, pointing at a page depicting a fox-like creature. “There’s a couple of entries in there that specifically mention time.”

Zian glanced at the page.

“You do realise I can’t read this, right?”

Tharryn looked at it again.

“Oh, my bad. I also have a version in Issadic.”

Zian wanted to ask if he had any earth languages, but he already knew the answer. Luckily his Issadic was decent, as it was the language most spoken by Dai’s subjects. Tharryn returned with the new book and he leafed through the pages for a while. Except for the fox creature, all of them looked terrifying, with pointy teeth, many eyes or many legs. The descriptions were filled with technical terms he couldn’t quite translate, and the parts he did understand didn’t sound familiar at all. He wasn’t really sure what to look for, since he hadn’t even seen the creature and barely experienced it otherwise. When he’d looked at all of them, and looked at some pictures in the rest of the book, he put it away and closed his eyes for a moment.

He must have fallen asleep, since the next thing he knew Tharryn was shaking him awake.

“Come on, you should see this,” he said.

“Am I allowed off the couch now?” Zian mumbled while rubbing his eyes, before realising it had been over two hours already.

He followed Tharryn down the hallway, down some flights of stairs, more hallways, to finally end up in a part of the Citadel that was clearly not frequented much. Zian could see experimental setups behind some of the doors, scorch marks on others. Tharryn entered one of the rooms and picked up something from the table.

“Here. I managed to clear this of everything that doesn’t belong.”

Zian took it, feeling the familiarity of his own energy. It felt surprisingly strong for such a small container. He wondered how much energy it would be holding.

“You’re doing pretty alright at the moment, so I’d save it for later if I were you,” Tharryn suggested while moving out into the hallway again already.

Zian cast a look at the table and saw more containers sitting there, some hooked up to wires or tubes of some kind. He must be working on further separating the energies he’d extracted. He possibly even kept some of his “clean” energy for later use, without bothering to ask him. Zian followed Tharryn to confront him about this, when the sight of the next room made him fall silent.

A bubble in the middle of the room held a creature, an elongated shape seemingly swimming through the air as if it were water, surrounded by wisps of smoke, tracing the air with every movement. It was slightly see-through, as if not fully there, but didn’t seem to be able to escape its bubble. The creature’s body was smooth and snakelike, reminding Zian of that of an eel, but its head most resembled an insect, with strong pincers for jaws. It had many eyes, looking in all directions until it caught sight of Zian and all eyes shifted towards him. Even though it had been shielded by the bubble, Zian could feel something in the air around him. It was very subtle, like a gear clicking into place, but he noticed his ability to tell time had been thrown off by a few seconds.

He knew without a doubt that this was the creature that had destroyed the cycle. Mostly from its energy signature, but strangely enough he also recognised its shape, even though he was sure he’d never seen anything like it. It felt… familiar.

“That thing was inside of me?!” he yelled, suddenly realising why.

Tharryn nodded.

“But it’s bigger than me!”

“It’s an interdimensional being, size isn’t relevant. If it wanted, it could project itself to fit inside your hand – or to the size of a building.”

“That’s…” he didn’t finish, just looked at it.

“I told you it was a stupid idea. Never put strange things into your body; everyone knows that.”

“So… what does it do? And more importantly: did it do anything to me?”

“You’re just fine, don’t worry. And for what it does; I’m not sure. For as far as I can tell, it exists in multiple places at the same time,” Tharryn said. “I’ve trapped it, but it could just manifest fully in whatever other place it’s currently at to escape. It might be that the only reason it’s still here is because it’s intrigued by us.”

“Multiple places at once, huh? Could those places also be two points in time?”

“Possibly. That would explain how it kept the cycle in that state for so long.”

“But it also controls time in some ways. I just felt it do that.”

“It does,” Tharryn confirmed. “It’s also drawn to temporal magic. I actually managed to draw it out of the container by offering yours.”

“You fed it my energy? What did it do with it?”

“It absorbed it, then started to secrete the smoke. I shielded it out of caution, and it has been doing that strange swimming motion ever since.”

Tharryn looked from Zian to the creature, and back to Zian.

“Until now.”

The creature had stopped its circles and instead hovered in place, its body waving gently. All of its eyes were still fixated on Zian.

“I think you have a connection,” Tharryn said, sounding slightly surprised.

“Or it just sees me as a yummy snack,” Zian shrugged. “Thanks for giving it a taste, by the way.”

“You’re the one who literally put it in your body,” Tharryn pointed out. “But I don’t believe it wants to eat you. It would have done that by now.”

“Maybe it was full. I did have a lot of energy to feed from.”

“I don’t think that’s it. But I could remove the shield if you want to find out?”

“Oh, yes, I’m dying to be eaten.”

Zian rolled his eyes.

The creature still stared at him, and created another small temporal shift, almost as if trying to get his attention. Its powers worked differently from his, he could tell. Just to see what would happen, he sent a small pulse back, freezing time for only a second. The creature wiggled its body, creating another fluke. They exchanged this a couple of times, while Tharryn was watching, fascinated. Then Zian gave him a nod: let the shield down.

The creature, freed from its bubble, went straight for Zian, circling around him. Zian stopped time completely now, seeing what it would do. The creature swam around faster, making sweeping movements close past him. When it had picked up some speed, Zian felt another one of the clicking motions and watched how the creature bent time around itself, temporarily appearing in two places at once, chasing itself. Then, without a warning, both of the dark shapes disappeared, leaving Zian with a splitting headache as time, bent too far out of his control, slipped through his fingers.

“Is it gone?” Tharryn asked.

“How am I supposed to know? I have no idea what it even did!”

“At least you got to see it. For me, everything became blurry when it started to circle you.”

“Right. I forgot to properly exclude you,” Zian realised.

“I felt part of it, though. Seemed pretty similar to interdimensional gateways. I think it used you as a catalyst to create a portal.”

“It just wanted to go somewhere,” Zian pondered. “Maybe that’s all it was doing to the cycle as well. It didn’t have any bad intentions.”

“But whoever put it there did,” Tharryn reminded him. “They set off a bomb to release it; that must have upset it.”

“Anyway, it’s gone now. And it didn’t eat me. I’d say that’s a win.”

“How are you? You look a bit shaky. Do you need some energy?”

Zian realised he was still holding the capsule. He shook his head.

“No, I mostly just have a headache. Whatever that creature’s doing, it’s above my understanding.”

“I think I can help with that,” Tharryn said. “Let’s go back up. I’ll finish the rest of my research later.”

“Sorry I let it get away, in case you wanted to examine it further.”

“It’s alright.”

“Do you think it’ll come back?” Zian asked, looking back at the room for traces of smoke.

“I can’t say. It has gotten a pretty good taste of your magical signature. So maybe, if it ever needs a ride again.”

Tharryn gestured towards the stairs.

“Now, let’s see if we can find Dai on TV. And get you something for that headache.”

Zian turned around and followed him, a small trace of smoke trailing after him.