#(just thought it was cool that there's one for each year)

[silverheartlugia2000]

Mmm.. just a little what if thought, not necessarily to clash with all the group nesting just a scene that was in my head.

Alfred wakes to a disturbance. Now, in the years he's watched over his family, he's grown used to waking in the night to many different things. He knows this house. He knows his charges. He's developed a sort of sense of where and when he was needed most. Dare say this most recent case his boys are whipped up in is most informative to his own quiet questions in recent years.

However, this particular kind of disturbance he doesn't remember waking to for quite some time.

Alfred slips from his bed and pulls on his night robe and slippers. As much as a stickler he us for proper attire, being this late at night and if it is what he thinks it is, suits would not help.

Padding into the kitchen, he finds the lights already on, and many doors open just a crack. Alfred quietly whips up the traditional special cocoa reserved for instances such as this.

Tray in hand, the elderly man instinctively heads toward the pantry door. There in the corner sat Jason, staring onto the void with vivid green. The boy he brought with him curled in his lap.

Jason's hold is one you would expect used for a child much smaller than the boy was. One that reminds Alfred of himself or Bruce on many nights in years past.

The rest of his family is still investigating that town, the Outlaws as well. It was very much a surprise that instead of staying to reign chaos with the rest, the first thought in Jasons head after hitting his panic button was "GTFO". As well as being rather vague on what sort of 'isolated containment' he found Danny in.

He sits the tray on the floor and eases himself down as well. Pressing against the man's side to wait paitently.

It's strange when old habits tend to linger. Anyone can tell you former Robin's are experts at staying hidden, and each one had preferred spaces in the manor. Jason always had more hiding places than the others given where he came from. Unfortunately, the boy has long outgrown most of them. The pantry, however, has always been one only used when seeking a specific sort of comfort after the worst nightmares.

Alfred waits, sipping his own mug quietly while the other cools. It might do Danny good to have another smoothie while they're here. The poor boy still isn't very responsive beyond a base instinctual level, often acting more like a kitten than a child. And it will still be some time before Alfred is comfortable giving him solid foods again.

It's only a few minutes he thinks, when Jason takes an audible, slow breath and leans into Alfred.

"...what are the odds.." Jason asks, so quietly that it sounds broken, "That the pit drags me to a random patch of ground and tells me to dig. Only to find the same nightmare that's haunted me since I came back happening to someone else.."

Alfred's core aches. Carefully setting his cup down and drawing the boy close. His children are never too old to cry in his arms. Cocoa can always be remade after all.

The Outlaws are investigating a small town in Illinois. They don't get very far into town though when Jason feels a weird tug at his chest. He can't help but follow it to a graveyard and then to a specific grave. It is there he witnesses something he never thought he'd experience from an outsider's perspective. A boy trying to claw his way out of his grave.

[abysful]

Tread carefully

Contains: Plot, Friends to Fuck buddies, Mentions of Masturbation, Smut (not-so-dry humping, blow job, p in v)

Summary: You love summer more than most, yet swimming has never been your strong suit beyond a survival doggy paddle. But one quiet summer night, your friend Chris teaches you a few tricks, in and out of the water.

Word count: 5k

There was nothing that riled you up more than when your three best friends claimed to “hate” summer. You reminded them time and time again how amazing it was to be surrounded by bright green grass and beautiful flowers, and how all it takes when you feel the heat bundle you up a bit too tight, is a carefree dip in a cooling chlorine filled pool. The complaints of how sticky and humid the air gets during summer seem to quiet down to silence when summer finally arrives and everyone’s skin is sun kissed and warm, when music and laughter accompanies a bonfire, and when all of your friends are happier and lighter.

“T’s sweaty and fucking gross” Nick starts, reminded of his hatred for the season when a headline of summers first day being a week away, pops up on his Instagram feed.

You look at Matt and Chris waiting for either of them to swoop in and defend your favourite time of year but you quickly realize you’re on your own.

“Let’s not get disrespectful” you play around, trying to stop yourself from getting in a unserious but low-key serious debate with Nick.

Nick looks at you unamused “I literally don’t fucking believe you when you say summers your favourite season… you aren’t even from LA. There’s mosquitoes and allergies and fucking sunburn.” he exclaims.

The friendly banter goes on through the night, regardless of the activity, only stopping when you’re all asleep on their couches after an evening filled with jokes, games, and stupid stories.

At some odd hour in the night, the dry cotton-mouth that left the walls of your mouth feeling like sandpaper, had rudely yanked you from your disorganized and frankly confusing dreams.

There was no possibility that you were going to ignore the now hydrophobic texture taking place within your jaws, the only option was to get up as silently as possible and find something to remedy your dehydration.

In hopes you wouldn’t disturb your peacefully sleeping friends, you sink into the couch as you lay straight, slowly rolling off of the cushion to the floor, using all of your arm strength to softly lower yourself without making a sound.

As you stand, you look over the dormant bodies of the people you care most about, wondering what they’re seeing in their dreams, some on the couch, others on air-mattresses that were in place of the coffee table.

Though the sweet admiration quickly turns into a headcount, you see Madi, Nick, Matt, Madison, but no Chris.

Your mind can barely process your consciousness, so Chris’ whereabouts slip out from your thoughts almost immediately when you regain awareness of the dryness coursing your throat and tongue.

Pivoting on your heels, you B-line for the kitchen, so eager to drink just one glass of water, the ability to stay quiet threatens to disappear. Once the glass is in your grasp, and the slippery condensation cools your clammy palms, you begin to guzzle the liquid in your cup, letting out loud breaths between each gulp.

Feet standing a foot and a half from the sink, you bend over to rest your elbows on the countertop, your body at a near 90 degree angle.

You don’t even hear the sound of a toilet flushing or a door opening, nor did you hear any footsteps approaching, the feeling of the water reviving every vein and artery was clouding your thinking.

Chris walked into the kitchen from the bathroom, heading for the sink to get a drink. His eyes had just been exposed to the bright florescent lights of the washroom just a moment ago so when he flicked the switch off, his eyes were able to see virtually nothing.

Touching and feeling around him, once he understood where the table and cabinets were located in relation to him, he no longer felt the need to extend his arms for guidance.

That was until he was a few steps from the sink. Chris’ walking is abruptly interrupted when his clothed groin slams against your ass as you’re leaning on your forearms, hovering over the basin.

“Shit” he whisper yelled, completely oblivious to who it was he rammed into.

Instinctively he reached out again to feel who was in front of him, it all happened so fast, his hands finding your hips in search of anything identifiable in the blinding darkness.

“Woah” you yelped, now turning as fast as your body physically allowed you to.

Your familiar voice telling Chris all he needed to know, he pulled his grip back as if he’d just touched a scalding hot stovetop.

“Sorry sorry sorry” he slewed out rapidly, his voice now quiet but above a whisper.

“Ts fine, my fault for not paying attention” you apologized soon after, out of curtesy more than honesty.

A thought paralyzing silence blanketed the both of you, embarrassment being the only feeling in the kitchen that now felt 2 feet wide.

“Thirsty?” Chris whispers, very obviously trying to move on and not have that be the last thing that you two remember before going back to sleep.

Your body flinches slightly when you remember you aren’t completely alone in your thoughts.

“A little” You turn your head to meet Chris’ gaze, being in the solid dark long enough for your eyes to adjust, you can probably see Chris better than he can see you.

His shorts are hanging slightly too low, the fault of him trying to ‘keep his tired’ and haphazardly throwing on his bottoms before rushing out of the bathroom just a few moments ago.

Chris had a charm about him that made you find him more attractive than most of the men in your life but you didn’t spend any time figuring out what that even meant to you, so of course you assumed the pulse in your head, heart, and heat that came about whenever he was around, was nothing.

Yet in the dark, having a chance to take a good look at a barely clothed Chris without him being able to tell where your gaze fell, you used the opportunity as any person would, you checked him the fuck out.

Your eyes started at his V-line but his happy trail caught your attention not long after. You could tell by the way it was growing that he had been shaving around it to keep it shaped nice, not overgrown, but still visible. ‘Sort of like a landing strip’ your inner monologue narrated in your head, making you break into a smile that only you knew about.

With every breath inwards he took, all of him moved with it. The room was still too dark to be able to identify much else so you decided to cut your semi pervy staring session short, the places that your mind was going needed to be knocked unconscious.

“I need to hurry up and lay down before I fully wake up” you smiled at Chris, though he definitely couldn’t see well enough to tell. He let out a hum of agreement as you let your tired legs guide you to the large comfy couch.

Ever so quietly, you ascend back into the small indent your body left on the pillowy cushion. Comfort washed over you as your body felt as if it was melting and becoming one with the cloud of a sofa that was underneath you, you didn’t even get to the number four when counting yourself to sleep.

That night was weeks ago, between then and now, things were predominately business as usual except for two things, one slightly more concerning than the other.

On the brighter side, summer was here, your skin was glowier than ever, the skies had never been clearer, and every feeling seemed more intense.

But the time between the mishap and now— it seemed that every single night that you were unable to sleep, like a movie, you replayed the view of Chris that night, over and over in your head.

One night in particular you were engaging in sexual self care, and as much as you fought it with every neuron and vessel in your brain— the only image that got you to cum was that of Chris’ slender figure looming over you in the dark kitchen in the earlier hours before dawn.

Between their meetings and your job, none of you had the chance to spend a full day enjoying the heat of your beloved season quite yet.

“Y/n idc what you gotta do but we’re going swimming tomorrow” Nick texted you out of nowhere, it was 7pm and you were winding down from yet another busy day of working, going to the gym, and just the general tasks of everyday life.

“I’m there” you typed back with one hand while the other stirred your vodka pasta simmering on the stove.

That night your mind struggled to sleep once more, it seemed that only when you needed to rest the most, your bed morphed into a lumpy boulder keeping you from the level of comfort you needed for tomorrow to come quickly.

Thoughts about spending the day with the triplets, spending the day with Chris, more so, getting to see shirtless Chris in broad daylight this time, were wading through your mind. Over an hour of tossing and turning later, you drifted off to dreamland.

Your plans started later than discussed which was nothing but normal for your group of friends, everyone woke up late, got dressed late, and found their way to Madison’s LA home 3 hours late, by the grace of god you all showed up around the same time.

What was once a 1pm hang out, began at 4pm. First going to get ice cream, Madi and Matt got regular flavours while Nick and Chris purchased odd but reasonable mixes. You and Madison on the other hand, decided to get the most nonsensical and unappetizing combinations of ice creams.

“Get that fuckass cup out of my face” Nick retorted to you after you offered him a bite of your Frankenstein fro yo, to which you all belly laughed.

Then thrifting, it seemed Matt had the sharpest eye for that sort of thing, while the rest of you dicked around, mocking the freaky antiques you found, eventually leaving empty handed.

Finally, you were all in Madison’s pool an hour before sun down. There wasn’t much time for staring, Chris went from clothed to wearing nothing but swim trunks and submerged in water within half of a second.

The missed opportunity to bask in his sex appeal didn’t bother you too much, their was a level of guilt that was paired with each dirty thought you had of Chris which you weren’t opposed to not having to experience on your first proper hang out of the summer.

Last summer when you first met everyone, your choice of swimwear was one pieces and basketball shorts— a result of unjustified self critical thoughts, but the year in between was spent building up your self esteem and getting comfortable with letting yourself feel sexy. Now your choice of swimwear was more scantly clad, a black twisted bandeau top that’s half a size too small and tie-side bottoms.

The first 30 minutes in the pool, everyone played chicken fight, taking turns on shoulders— around 20 minutes til sundown, Nick and Madi volunteered to leave the pool to order food and chill in the hammocks. After their departure, lighthearted conversation flowed seamlessly between the four of you, that was until Matt poked fun at you about your swimming.

“Can you do literally anything other than a doggy paddle?” He teased, your face started to feel hot, remembering talks of the triplets laughing about their mom being an adult and not knowing how to swim.

“Matt shut up, she can swim” Chris chimes in, seemingly not to defend you but instead, actually in denial that you lacked the ability keep yourself afloat.

“No seriously, have you seen her leave the shallow end” he points out, his words phrased in a way to make you feel like he’s joking with you not at you, which made you a lot less embarrassed about the whole thing.

“She can swim a bit Matt” Madison inserts, her words prompt you to slowly glide through the water to the deep end.

The issue was never with getting somewhere in the water, it was staying above surface level. Once you reached the other side of her pool, you turned right back around and started swimming to your self assigned place in the shallow end.

“See? I swam” you snapped back playfully, jetting your gaze to Matt. A smile creeps onto your face before you mumble incoherently under your breath for comedic effect.

“What?” Chris prods with a smirk.

“I just can’t keep my head over the water if I’m not moving” you sheepishly confess.

“Y’mean tread water kid?” He asks, sounding unconvinced.

“Mhm” you nod, ironically standing in the kiddie end feeling like a 12 year old.

“D’you need me to teach you?” his words now laced with hints of genuine concern that you’ve gone this long without acquiring such an important skill.

You shrug “You couldn’t teach a dog to bark but I’ll let you try.” the idea of touching Chris’ slippery skin under the privacy of warped water is enough to twist your stomach.

Your mind was only just beginning to wander to unwarranted directions when Nick called out from his hammock.

“FOODS HERE”.

You expected Chris to do the ‘Chris thing’ by jumping out of the pool and running for the patio, but that wasn’t what happened. His eyes stayed planted on you, yours finding his quickly after noticing he didn’t seem to care much about his surroundings.

“Lemme teach you right now” he asserted, his voice was calm, all the while being more serious than it had been all day. The swift shift in mood threw you off to a panic.

“N-No it’s fine we can eat first”, if you had a gun to shoot yourself in the foot right now, you would. You knew yourself better than anyone, and one thing that was certain, was that you didn’t have much self control.

Everyone gathered around the dining room table, and by the time the food was finished, the sun had disappeared, lowering behind the sky high Hollywood hills.

The evening became night, and Chris was off in the washroom doing god knows what. Having read the oven clock, Madi stated she’d be calling it a night and walked over to the guest room with a blanket in one hand and her phone in the other, Matt suggested playing a movie up in Madison’s room, to which you declined from your spot on the couch, and watched as your three friends skipped up the stairs.

Less than ten minutes later, Chris finally joined you in the living room.

“Where’s everybody?” He asked.

“Madi went to bed and the rest are doing a movie night upstairs” you answered not looking up from your phone, mainly from the shame you felt.

The entire dinner, Chris’ eyes remained tethered to yours, it confused you at first but rather than wondering what he was thinking, you allowed your mind to go to places of its own.

Behind your eyes were made up images of Chris, you carried out scenarios of what it would be like to let him have you in any way he wanted, you imaged all while holding eye contact with him. Now you had spent time alone with thoughts and the feelings of satisfaction morphed into disgust with yourself.

“You gonna let me teach you now?” He inquires, you can see in your peripheral vision that his focus never faltered you once.

“What, like now now?” You question.

“Ion know what other now there is” he says.

You shrug, trying to give off the impression that none of this matters much to you, but internally, nearly every organ of yours is turning and tossing. Following his lead, you both find your way out of the sliding glass doors to the back of the house where your swimming attire is hanging to dry.

Chris pulls the corner to dress in a concealed area, on the other side of a picketed fence gate. You shamelessly but speedily put on your bikini and jumped into the pool with a loud splash, non verbally informing Chris you were finished dressing.

He appeared out from around the bend, swim shorts riding lower than they did when there was an extra 4 bodies in the pool with you earlier. Stepping back so he could have a longer running start, Chris cannonballed right over your head, landing in the deep end. A few seconds later he emerged from underwater.

“See how my arms ain’t movin” he nods down to his arms floating in one spot.

“Yeah” you engage.

“Go underwater an open your eyes” he instructs you in a suggesting tone.

Abiding by his wishes and taking a deep breath in, stretching the inner lining of your cheeks as you collect as much air as your mouth will allow, you had dived to watch the correct way to tread water, but you stayed to gawk at his abdomen flex and move with every kick each leg made.

You remained submerged, enjoying the show, until there was no air left in your lungs. Once you come back up for air, he questions you.

“Y’think you can do it?”.

You shrug to which he starts up again “cmere” he orders, less jokey as before. His assertiveness only fuels the fire of desire within you.

You swim slowly to him, once you get close enough, he grabs your hands and places them straight out to the side like a ‘T’.

“M’not gonna let you go, just pedal” he softly guides you as his hands stay clinging to yours.

Both sets of your arms are spread out leaving very little room between your bodies and faces. Every word of encouragement muttered in gentle whispers, the distance between you, or lack there of, ensured that you never needed to exceed quiet breathy volumes.

“That’s good”

“Like this?”

“Yeah you’re doin so good keep goin”.

To an outsider, the exchange sounded erotic, and though neither of you would admit it in that moment, as insiders, it felt erotic.

He eased his fingers out of yours until you were staying up on your own. You felt like you were levitating.

“No shit, I’m actually doing it” you cheered, but the ten minutes of trial and error left your legs exhausted.

Your legs cramped and froze as your hands reach back for Chris, landing firmly on his shoulders.

“Tired?” He rhetorically asked, eyes searching for yours as you stayed looking at the water.

“Y’know you can do it with your arms too” he tried to motivate you.

“Yeah maybe you can but I think I’m good with just the legs” most of your pessimism coming from insecurity.

“No seriously, it’s lowkey easier too” he said in attempt to brighten your outlook.

“Let me just-” his words snuffed out, as his fingers snaked down to your sides.

“Can I hold you here?” his voice drops an octave. You look up at him, nodding, as you feel his touch glide down to the small of your back underneath the water. The nervousness weighing you down, as you lower your hold on his shoulders, trying to move your arms in a circular motion.

The sexual frustration within you intertwines with your actual frustration of not being able to get the hang of things, a look of agitation growing on your face. Your eyebrows furrowed and the near permanent smile that painted your lips, turned sour, now straight.

“You’re doin fine, just relax a bit” he begins, “I gotchu” his grip around the lower half of your torso tightens.

As your mind begins to realign its focus on the physical task you both came for, you feel something graze your lower stomach faintly, just underneath your belly button. Diverging your hyper-fixation to look down, you feel Chris’ arms slowly let you go, initiating a knee jerk response for your arms to fling up to link behind the nape of his neck to support you.

The change in grounding point, brought you closer to his body than before. The thing touched you again, this time much less subtly, and the lack of space between you and Chris, gave you a near certain answer to what that thing was.

Every night you spent unrested you imagined a moment like this, and every orgasm you brought yourself to with the faint thought of Chris in that kitchen, you imagined a moment like this, you knew exactly what you wanted to happen, it was just about how.

“Sorry” Chris lamely excused, he didn’t attempt to string together what other reasons there could possibly have been for his dick to be in the state that it was. But you didn’t comfort his embarrassment, nor did you back away from where you were, instead you chose to seize the moment.

Your legs started off straight, but close to his, then, you began to bend your knees while parting a gap between your thighs. One of your arms stayed around his neck while the other travelled up the back of his head to interlock with his deep brown strands, now black from being soaked in water.

Only seconds later did your lower half complete its journey to be fully draped around his waist. Your faces, once inches apart, now only centimetres away from one another. His eyes broke free from their shackled gaze with yours, as your body language gave him the go-ahead to finally look at your frame the way you had peered at his once before.

The long string of weeks where you could only think of how he would feel on you and in you, was enough foreplay in itself, so you made no haste to bridge your hips up against his pulsing cock under the still water. The warmth that was rushing to every part of your bodies, made the water feel that much colder.

When he had finished eating you with his eyes, his hand jerked up from your back, to clasp your cheek. As he guided your mouth to his, his tongue waited from no invitation. The kiss was wet and messy from the beginning, only picking up heat as you explode each other’s bodies with no hesitation. His hand slipped down from your back to cup your ass before squeezing it and rubbing it repeatedly, the other hand slithering down from your jaw to find hold on your neck.

With the gap between your bodies non existent, his solid cock tented in his shorts was now pressed up against your aching core. Using the strength of your knees around his waist, you began to wine your hips in a circular motion, utilizing the part of his shaft that was against your cunt as friction.

The both of you moaned at the action, him bucking his hips in response. The coolness of the pool sent waves of shock as the cold ripples acted against your throbbing heat, the kisses became sloppy as you and Chris lost the capacity to think, thinness of your swimwear allowing every point of contact between you to feel as if neither of you had clothes on.

After barely 5 minutes of breathlessly making out and grinding over his hungry dick, you pull away from Chris.

“The pool house” was all you could slew out as you tried to catch your breath, you look deep into his eyes, the blue irises now near impossible to see beyond his black dilated pupils. He gulped in excitement, mind numb, all he could do was nod.

Both of you wasted not a second climbing out of the water, and creaking the door open. The pool house didn’t have much inside, but catching a fairly large couch in the corner, you both stumbled over towards it.

Chris immediately sat down, presuming you would assume the same position of straddling him as you did in the pool, but instead you lowered onto your knees. The sight of you so eager to make him feel good prompted Chris to whip his head back and let out a sigh of built up sexual frustration.

As your fingers hooked underneath the hem of his shorts and tugged, his length sprung out, slapping into his stomach. You knew your time in the pool was torture from his irritated tip, the colour of his teased dick making you want to do nothing more than relieve the pressure.

Once his gaze fell back onto you, your hands spread out on his thighs, sliding up to his cock, once you grab hold of it, you look into his eyes before collecting your saliva and slowly letting it run down his pulsing dick. Once his length was wet enough, you used one of your hangs to circle his tip with your palm while the other assisted your mouth in taking all of him from the side, running your lips along his dick. “Fuuuuckkkk don’t stop” he groaned as his fingers trailed through your hair.

Eventually you remove your hand from his now much redder tip, and slide his cock down your throat until your nose hits his skin. You keep him in your throat for a second or two as you look up at him, his eyes getting teary just as yours were. You continued to ram his dick in and out of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you did so, his moans never stopping once, kept you going.

When you knew he was close, you used both of your hands to stroke him while your tongue lapped around the head of his throbbing cock. It took less than a second for him to cum, you popped his dick out of your mouth and steered his dick to shoot his thick white ropes of cum onto your chest. When he caught his breath he looked into your eyes.

“Didn’t wanna swallow?” He joked.

“You drink Pepsi like its water and eat like a 7 year old with a bank account and free will, I would rather drink bleach than your cum Chris” you shot back.

“Fair” he responded before pausing, then finishing his thought, “I bet your pussy’d soak up my cum with no complaints”.

Rather than a verbal response to the annoying but honest truth, you gave him a physical one. You stood up and pulled the strings of your bikini bottoms in one motion before crawling onto his lap. He looked at you as a cocky smile crept onto his face. You were on your knees hovering over his eager dick, your pussy pumping since the pool.

Waiting for him to enter your needy hole, you look down at his hand finding his length as he guided it to your entrance but rather than placing his dick where you wanted it, he tried teasing you, sliding his tip over your over-aroused clit. You moan, furrowing your eyebrows, eyes still planted on what he was doing.

“Chris… don’t… fuck around” you stammered between your heavy breaths and groans. He sneered and let out a huffy breath of amusement before finally letting his dick find your sopping wet hole, bottoming out immediately, not allowing you to adjust to his impressive size.

“Fuck” you screamed, leaning forward to embrace him, resting your chin over his shoulders and wrapping your arms around him.

“Easyyy easyyy” he hushed. His hands found your ass, softly grabbing hold of it as he lifted you up and down.

“Too much?” he asks, turning his head so his mouth pressed up against your ear as he whispers.

“Mm, keep going” you respond, almost forgetting how to communicate out of pure bliss, your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head and your eyelashes flutter. Chris plants kisses on your shoulder, as your moans get louder you can feel him smile into the kisses.

His slender fingers find your clit, using your slippery wetness to make his digits slide faster in circles. Every one of your limbs begin to numb, your mind soon following. As a blur grows around your vision, your moans turn to screams, the distance from the house your friends were in was large enough for you to let all that you were feeling be heard.

“Chris” you start to which he interrupts.

“I got you, cum for me baby” his thrusts rapid like bullet fire, sending your body into ecstasy. One second the knot is building in your gut, the next, it snaps.

“Fuck fuck fuck” you scream out.

“Mhm I got you” he assures you, as you ride out the feeling of his dick slamming against your g-spot and his fingers caressing your overstimulated clit.

As you come down from your high, you lean back, the sweet sweat that collected between your chests made it all feel so intimate. Chris slips out of you and runs his finger between your folds one last time, raising his hand to show you the white liquid dripping out of you.

He smiled and egotistically smiles “told you”, you grab his fingers and lick the cum off, more for the purpose of shutting him up.

After dressing into your indoor clothes and limping back to the house, you walk upstairs to Madison’s room with Chris by your side. “D’you get the hang of it?” Matt asked, not looking away from the rom-com playing on the TV in front of him. “Yeah, fast as fuck too, had time to teach her other shit too” Chris answered for you.

Authors note: I suck at smut but I feel like this one’s a bit better than the last one, TBHHHH this was basically a self insert cause I can’t swim for shit but I hope y’all liked it, happy Wednesday!!!

I forgot who wanted to be tagged ngl

Taglist: @hjvi @theyluvivi @sturniolosrtewsexy

[artemisia-black]

Sorry if you've answered this before (im sure you have) but do you think Sirius was a serial dater at school? How do you hc Sirius at school?

I think my over exposure (early in my fandom life) to school shagger/ sex pest Sirius made me really dislike the trope that he dated loads. But also in my analysis of his character, he’s pretty selective about who he spends time with. He’s way more polite than he’s often depicted as, but he also doesn’t suffer fools lightly- so I can’t see him tolerating dating people for the sake of it. I can see him going out on a few dates (with people who he deems clever or interesting) but his friendships would’ve always taken priority over any kind of romantic life.

I do think he was probably widely fancied, but given that Bellatrix literally tries to “trim the family tree” when Tonks marries Remus, I imagine there was a real danger in who he dated. He was related to active Death Eaters, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that if he publicly got involved with the wrong person in their eyes, they’d consider an honour killing (for want of a better term) and that would probably make him even more reluctant to date seriously.

At school, I think overall, he was just one of those people who’s effortlessly good at everything, and I do wonder how much jealousy that stirred. Because when someone is that good-looking, people tend to react in one of two extreme ways, either they’re deferential to the point of fawning, or they absolutely hate you. You become an object of projection (Good looks can be as much of a curse as they are a gift).

If you actually asked people for personal stories about going to school with him, most wouldn’t have much beyond, distant politeness or “oh yeah, I saw him break someones nose once.” Because I do think he got into fights. He’s a very physical fighter even in the Ministry battle (literally shoulder slams Dolohov) so I can absolutely see him getting into fist fights especially around the time he leaves his family. And on top of all that, I really don’t see him enjoying being part of the school rumour mill

I know Remus calls him and James “the height of cool,” but these are the same people who had stupid nicknames for each other and spent years as amateur cartographers. Sirius was thought of as cool because he was hot ( I said what I said) because this is a guy who remixed A Christmas Carol and willingly called himself Snuffles, he absolutely had a ridiculous side, we just don’t get to see it because by the time we meet him, he’s been so prison-hardened.

Also he clearly cared about his grades. He expected at least an Outstanding (which is the top grade- was he expecting them to make a new one for him?) and the fact that McGonagall still calls him brilliant when she thinks he’s a mass murderer says a lot. She has no time for people who slack off, so he must have been a good student. I don’t think he was a class clown or a class disrupter-he would never perform for people.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: february 2025

I can't believe that with all the bullshit nonsense of this year I've managed to read ten book a month for two months in a row. it's not on purpose but it's crazy that it's happened twice!

what have I been reading?

The Art of Frugal Hedonism: A Guide to Spending Less While Enjoying Everything More (Annie Raser-Rowland w/ Adam Grubb, 2017; audiobook read by Alice Ansara, 2024) - this was my first audiobook, and it was a doozy. the short version is that this book sucked and made me so, so mad. I really hoped to have my scathing haterade-fueled review up on patreon by now so that I could link it, but that hasn't panned out because I just have too much to say about these out of touch cunts offering the world's least qualified financial advice. "just take a leisurely twelve hour hike to a train station instead of going on vacation" kill yourself!!!

The Age of Magical Overthinking: Notes on Modern Irrationality (Amanda Montell, 2024) - I quite liked Montell's previous book, Cultish, but unfortunately I fear Magical Overthinking was a bit of a flop for me. I can't help but feel that the ideal target demographic is extremely anxious women in their teens and early 20s who need a compassionate explanation of why they should spend less time on Twitter and TikTok, and I'm afraid that shrimply isn't me.

The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World (Robin Wall Kimmerer, 2024; audiobook read by the author) - this was, unintentionally, a lovely little counterpoint to Frugal Hedonism. where Raser-Rowland and Grubb focus deeply on individual consumption habits and have a bad penchant of commodifying human interaction, Potawatomi botanist Kimmerer emphasizes the need for structural environmental change that can come by embracing Indigenous models of viewing the earth and its resources as members of crucial members of the family deserving of respect. a thoughtful and lovely balm to the bullshit!

My Year of Rest and Relaxation (Ottessa Moshfegh, 2018) - a book about the original queen of giving us nothing, as our protagonist goes to increasingly drastic lengths to spend as much time as possible asleep and disengaged from anything more complicated than acquiring more prescription pills. what can I say? I love books about miserable rich white women rotting in their own self-absorption.

Don't Want You Like a Best Friend (Emma R. Alban, 2024) - this was my patreonites' pick for my romance novel of the month, and I'll admit I went in nervous - historical romance novels are often not my thing, and the Taylor Swift lyric for the title was a red flag. but you know what? this was a romp. I was entertained. dare I say I was even charmed. sure, it falls into the common historical queer romance pitfall of emphasizing the vague threat of period-typical homophobia while assuring us that every important character just so happens to be startlingly cool with homosexuality, but whatever - I didn't come here to see these girls get hatecrimed by their own parents, alright? I wasn't planning to read the sequel, but it turns out it's a VERY direct follow up where the girls from this book hatch an INSANE plan to (SPOILER ALERT) get their male cousins to fall in gay love so that they can lavender marry each other's cousins and live happily ever after. INSANE! I love it here.

Dawn (Octavia E. Butler, 1987) - on the one hand, I'm a little heartbroken. this marks the beginning of the last of Butler's series that I haven't read; after Adulthood Rites and Imago, I'll have read everything she published in her too-short life, with no new works to look forward to ever again. but on the other hand: MAN, am I glad I saved this one for last. this book has it all: humanity's near-extinction. aliens. psychic tentacle threesomes. maybe the biggest L that any of Butler's heroines ever took. it's wild out here! cannot wait to see where we're going with this.

Iron Widow (Xiran Jay Zhao, 2021) - this was a reread to prep for the sequel, Heavenly Tyrant, which came out in December, and MAN am I glad I decided to check back in with the first book. I really thought I remembered the broad strokes of the plot well enough, but I really did not remember just how blood-spittingly bugfuck viscous Zetian and her two boyfriends are. of the three people in this throuple, the nicest one is the guy who murdered his brothers and dad in cold blood. and I think that's awesome! cannot wait to see what these absolute freaks are up to now, and my hold cannot come into the library quickly enough.

Pardon My Frenchie (Farrah Rochon, 2024) - okay. listen. on paper I shouldn't like this book. the male love interest is boring at best and a full-blown shithead at worst. the biggest driver of the plot is the love interests' dogs going crazy levels of viral. the sex is minimal and nothing to write home about. and yet. AND YET. our female lead, Ashanti, is simply so charming and earnest and plucky that I adored her immediately. girl lost both her parents on the same day, had to drop out of veterinary school to raise her twin younger sisters, and is struggling to run the world's most plush doggy day care AND run a successful side business selling homemade dog biscuits. truly I just want anything to go right for her, ever. she's never even been eaten out prior to this book, and that makes me so, SO sad for her. I may not like her boyfriend, but at least he'll get her off, and that counts for something. overall, it's Ashanti's storyline about learning how to prioritize what's important to her and let some obligations go instead of clinging madly to everything that really got me through and won me over. plus, this book bypassed by usual kneejerk dislike of obnoxiously cutesy plot device pets in romance novels by making the dogs actually completely integral to the story and the characters - Ashanti is hugely defined by her adoration of every dog she meets - in a way that I really enjoy. will I read the upcoming sequel, Pugs and Kisses? fuck it. maybe.

White Feminism: From the Suffragettes to Influencers and Who They Leave Behind (Koa Beck, 2019) - Beck's book falls in a really sweet spot of building very well on a lot of feminism 101 to actually meaningfully discuss new concepts without being redundant. okay, yes, you've heard "white feminism" is bad, but do you know why? Beck has some of the most well laid-out explanations I've ever encountered, thoroughly detailing the ways in which white feminism reject collectivist anti-capitalist action in favor of individual advancement within the status quo. plus there is, as promised, a great historical throughline, contrasting the actions of historical middle and upper class white feminists against those of actions largely headed up by women who are Black, brown, Jewish, and/or immigrants who served entire communities. the takedown of "lean in" office girlboss culture is particularly killer.

Acts of Service (Lillian Fishman, 2022) - a short novel, ideal for reading in a couple hours if you love mess and happen to be trapped in various airports and flights with not much else to do! I was expecting another entry in the obnoxiously disaffected young woman genre and was pleasantly surprised by how curious and engaged our protagonist, Eve, actually is! much like Edie of Luster, I think she's gonna be alright once this deranged throuple situation blows over. ultimately I don't know if the conclusion of the novel hit for me as well as Luster did, and when I got to the end of the book I did kind of find myself going damn... and what was the point of all that? I have no idea, but it was well-crafted and I'm glad that I didn't read this like six months ago because it probably would have killed me with toxic horny poisoning at that point in my life. I'm normal now.

[drrealityslenderverse]

Marble Hornets Pokemon Teams Round 1!

Teams & my reasoning for picking them below the cut:

Hoody/Brian:

1. Pawmot- a Pokémon Brian had pre-MH. Mostly picked because of the "that's some nice hair" line lol. However, Pawmot is also great to have around because he can charge devices like the camera while out living in the woods!

2. Umbreon- originally an eevee he had pre-MH. The color scheme just matches Hoody well & the whole night-theme seems fitting. His specifically is easily aggitated ever since things starting going downhill.

3. Banette- Brian took it in just before things fell apart after finding it at one of Alex's film locations. Banette has prove to be a loyal companion, usually easy going and the one to sooth frayed nerves, but fully willing to curse its enemies. I thought it'd be cool to have a megastone in place of one of its eyes, although Hoody doesn't mega evolve it often. Again, color pallet seemed fitting, but Banette's Pokédex entries also seem fitting for his character.

4. Mimikyu- brought onto the team shortly after he took up the mask and acted as Hoody. His is rather shy and likes to mimic him. Picked mostly because I thought the cloth disguise fit nicely with his cloth mask and the mentions of loneliness in the Pokédex.

5. Yamask- the worrier of the team who showed up one day. I wasn't going to give him a yamask, but the color scheme is so perfect lol. I suppose the whole, 'the mask it carries is of its old face' lore could refer to Brian's life pre-MH.

6. Nickit- Hoody specifically caught one just to steal things like Tim's medicine. This one has a rather childish personality but is always eager to cause trouble by following Hoody's orders. I feel like this one is obvious; I picked it for the team because of its thief skills. I kept it unevolved because it seems cuter and I liked the 'cautious and cunning' description more than Thievul's.

Tim/Masky:

1. Growlithe- Given to him as a child to alert for seizures! Tim worries the poor pup when he goes into the Masky state. This well-trained Growlithe is his closest companion. I had to give him a friendly loyal dog Pokémon and like to think this one's mane has that well-loved stuffed animal texture.

2. Absol- he added this one to his team around the time Alex's project crumbled. Absol came to him in rough shape already and is often grumpy due to years of no one heeding his warnings. I wanted to add one to the team because I feel like Tim's character does warn Jay often of the dangers to stop, but keeps investigating & helping Jay anyway. Absol's colors also match Masky's mask well.

3. Mimikyu- found it one day and it followed him home. This one is curious about things and often helps Masky and Tim find items to help their goals. I wasn't going to add this to his team, but shiny Mimikyu reassembles his mask so I tossed it in.

4. Yamask- haunted him since childhood but Masky didn't add it to his team until the project fell apart. It's friendly and also likes to find tapes to bring back for its trainer. I specifically put yamask on the team for the mask item it carries around, and made it shiny to get it closer to the white mask color.

5. Pangoro- a powerful Pokémon that Masky exclusively tends to use. It's the muscle power to the team. Tim is... wary of Pangoro's aggressive nature but wouldn't feel good about abandoning it. I had to give him something that was a strong hitter since Masky is usually the one to attack. Pangoro's color scheme works well for Masky's mask too.

I didn't give him a 6th Pokémon because I felt like this was a nice line-up. I did consider and espeon or other eeveelution to play off Hoody's umbreon, but decided none really vibed well for me to add.

I also didn't plan on giving them duplicate Pokémon, but I liked yamask & mimikyu for each for different reasons, so there they are. If anything, they could reflect how the two seemed to work together for a time.

[intrepidacious]

melting snow

summary: Andy finally meets his upstairs neighbor

pairing: andy barber x f!reader

word count: 992

warnings: divorced andy's pov; florist!reader; snow if that counts as a warning lmao; first meetings fluff 🫶🏼 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: i'm literally on my way out of the house but i wanted to post this little ficlet while we're still firmly in february because it feels so wintery to me hahah 😌 also @writing-for-marvel you sent this gif to me one and a half years ago so shout-out to you being the most patient person on the planet ily

masterlist | read on ao3

Here's what Andy knows about his new neighbor:

She lives in the apartment right above his, and even though he barely heard her moving in, just a couple of weeks after he signed his own lease, she seems to love rearranging her furniture in the middle of the night. The music she listens to is loud and annoying and keeps getting stuck in his head when he's supposed to focus on paperwork.

And right now, she's struggling to get her groceries out of her car.

It's way too early for a day off, but he's not been sleeping well on the new mattress. He’s missing the perfectly broken in softness of his old bed, and combined with the incessant noise of the cars and the sirens outside, he can count the hours of sleep he’s been getting with one hand.

There’s been a lot of change in his life after years in the suburbs, and he's frankly too old for all of this. But he needed the fresh start.

So he's on his third cup of coffee as he looks out of the window, watching the new neighbor in her bright winter jacket as she tries to balance another plastic bag on top of the stack of boxes she's compiled in the trunk.

She's pretty, his brain supplies, but he swallows the thought down with his coffee. The divorce has only just gone through. It's way too early for anything like that. Besides; there's such a thing as too much baggage.

One of the bags rips open and the neighbor curses so loud Andy can hear it through the closed window. He waits for a beat, takes in the scene unfolding on the parking lot outside, and then his mug clanks against the metal of the sink and he's grabbing his keys and his coat and pulling the door closed behind him.

"D'you need help?"

Her head swivels around, her eyes widening slightly as she sees him coming towards her, groceries still spilled all over the car and the melting snow. Like a breadcrumb trail of canned beans and tofu.

"That's alright," she says with a huff of air that forms a steam cloud in front of her face. "I don't have far."

"I know," he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I’m 3B."

"Oh. Hi. Sorry, I meant to introduce myself properly once I'm all moved in, but then …" She trails off, but he gets it. He's only introduced herself to Mrs Hernández down the hall because he kept bumping into her at the elevator and it got awkward.

"That's alright. I'm Andy."

She says her name with a smile and he has to remind himself that he still has a tan line on his ring finger; even though it's starting to blur in the cool winter sun, blending into his skin quicker than he'd thought possible.

"Let me get that," he offers again, and this time she doesn't protest. Two pairs of hands and eyes are far quicker than one, after all. "Are you having a party or something?" he asks once everything is packed up in plastic bags again and they each carry two inside.

"Uhm, no. I have a dog, though, and some friends coming over on Saturday. But we'll try to keep it down!"

"Don't worry about it. It's good you're christening the place. I mean—" He coughs uncomfortably. "I'll be out of town anyway. Work conference."

"Oh, really. What do you do?" Bright, keen eyes study him like he’s being flayed layer by layer, a particularly interesting specimen.

He swallows and holds the elevator door open. "I'm a lawyer."

It's not that he particularly misses the stress of being district attorney; still, it'd been everything he'd worked for for most of his professional life. And then, just like that, within a single year both his job and his family were ancient history.

Anyway. A couple of weeks of retraining courses and now it's back to low-stakes cases of insurance fraud and tax evasion. It's better this way.

That’s what he tells himself in those long hours when he’s supposed to be sleeping.

"Very fancy," she says, and he supposes it sounds that way if you leave out all the important bits of backstory. "I could never. Not smart enough for that kind of stuff."

"I highly doubt that," he says without really knowing why. It earns him a smile. "What do you do?"

"I'm a florist. My best friend and I own Letters and Leaves on—"

"Arlington Street."

That gets him another, brighter smile. "You know it?"

He does. He's often wondered about it actually, a small shop selling books and flowers that's nestled between a chain restaurant and a pharmacy. There's always fresh bouquets out on the window sills, and a handwritten sign promoting new releases and book talks.

"It's on my way to the office."

"Well, you should come by sometime. I'll give you a neighbor discount."

"How much's that?"

A moment’s hesitation as her eyes flit down his body and meet his gaze again. "Depends on what you buy."

The elevator dings for his stop, and he wants to curse it.

"Thanks for your help, Andy," she says and suddenly the bags are out of his hands and he’s been dismissed.

He clears his throat. "My pleasure."

With a nod, he steps out of the elevator and she gives him a small, friendly wink as the doors close. There's something odd happening to the inside of his chest as he returns to his still-too-empty apartment and picks up his cup of coffee again.

It's gone cold.

He looks out the window again, at the two trails of footprints in the snow outside. The sun’s come out now, and they’re already beginning to melt together until it’s impossible to tell them apart at all.

A couple of minutes later, the music is turned on upstairs. He can't help it: It makes him smile.

thank you so much for reading!! see, i will save every ask i get, i'm just very, very slow when it comes to actually writing them lmao

if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 🫶🏼

[neoraso]

out of my league | pwb

this was requested a year ago and i've literally been working on it since then on and off. to the original anon I AM SO SORRY.. 2k+ wonbin wants to play things cool until it gets to be too much,, enjoy~~~

wonbin honestly did not know how he managed to woo you with his confession (what he thought was a disaster), and keep you on top of that, for the last three months. every day, he waited for you to get up and leave him, after realizing that he was not cut out to be with someone he thought was as perfect as you. someone so well-rounded, so mature with a good sense of humor. he tried so hard to keep up and seem just as put-together around you, but he felt his affections bursting at the seams just over a text from you.

you on the other hand were also starting to wonder if his nonchalance would continue forever or if he’d give up the act- if it was an act (fingers crossed) . it was something that enticed you to begin with, how someone as gorgeous, talented, genuine and kind as him showed interest in you- albeit restrained- but sometimes you wondered what was going on inside his pretty little head.

it wasn’t really as if you doubted his feelings for you. if the deep and lingering kisses weren’t enough, the meals delivered to your door, or even the way he couldn’t help but squeeze you once more before letting you go were all little signs that he cared more than he let on. so when he couldn’t 100% hide his smile when he teased you or held his breath when you threw your legs over his lap, it made you wonder what it would take to get him to crack.

his behavior nor his stiff reactions had deterred you thus far from showing him how much you liked him, but lately it made you falter, wondering if maybe you were being too much.

by the grace of the gods, both you and wonbin were homebodies to the same extent, to the point of your friends joking that one day you’d melt into your bed together (which made you laugh and grab his hand while he turned his face and tried to will the tips of his ears to stop burning).  it was convenient in the way that you never stressed each other with expectations of outings but also made days like this, where he asked you to wear something “cute” and he’d pick you up for a day at the water gardens, more special.

whatever “cute” meant you weren’t really sure, it always stressed you out a bit to keep up with your boyfriend’s fashion tastes especially because he didn’t even seem to notice or draw attention to the outfits you wore- at least not verbally. he could never help smoothing down your sleeves or pinching the collar of your shirts, but it hadn’t slipped past you how he hesitated to grab the strings of your hoodies or sweats or clenched his fist instead of patting your head.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

wonbin picked you up in a very timely manner as per usual, waiting outside.

you opened the door to see your boyfriend sitting in his car, looking nothing short of debonair also as per usual. when he saw your head pop out of the crack of the door, bouncing as you hopped around putting your shoes on, he got out of the driver’s seat, trying to bite back the giggle burning in his throat from how adorable you were. he glided over to the passenger door, bending down when you reached him to kiss your cheek.

“hi baby.”

he said nothing more, humming at your breathless reply. opening the door, he waited until you were safely inside before shutting it and cooly making it back into his side.

were you on the verge of foaming at the mouth from how good he looked today? yes.

were you still going to keep your hands to yourself to push him to the edge? also yes.

every woman has their limit and after three months you had reached yours. you just hoped you knew him as well as you thought you did so that this plan would come to fruition.

you noticed him glance up at you while he secured his seat belt, reaching over and checking yours too. he faced forward changing the gear into drive as he cleared his throat and spoke out.

“you look nice today. i- well…yeah.”

his incoherence was solidified with a thick gulp.

you were used to his sentences that trailed off more often than not. they didn’t upset you and you never pushed him. it was cute really, and his friends had recently mentioned to you in passing how nervous wonbin was in reality, sometimes shutting down to avoid embarrassing himself.

nevertheless, you simply smiled and thanked him, waiting.

he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as you placed your hands in your lap, resisting the urge to turn your head and ogle at him for the duration of the trip. meanwhile, wonbin tried to keep his cool persona up on the 23 minute drive while also trying to decipher what kind of agenda you seemed be up to.

at first, he was worried he had done something to upset you, but you had responded to him with a bright voice and an even brighter smile- the one he wished he could tell you he loved so much. usually though, by now you would’ve tucked his hair behind his ear or squeezed his arm or leaned over the console to silently ask for a kiss, anything. it wasn’t like he felt like it was your responsibility to initiate affection, but you seemed to do it so naturally. and truthfully, it had been weighing on his mind for weeks, wondering if he held back too much.

when wonbin first met you, he had to overplay it cool so you wouldn’t be able to tell how nervous you made him and think he was a loser. he is also painfully aware that he’s indebted to sungchan for introducing you to the friend group and bringing you around again after seeing how taken with you wonbin was. of course, that’s not to minimize how you stuck around him at group hangouts for some reason he could not figure out, waiting on his words patiently and sweetly conversating with him until finding a sly way to ask for his number. if you were anyone else, he might’ve thought you only talked to him because of his looks, which had happened more often than not with girls, but as cliché as it sounded, you were different. everything about you was so grounding and inescapable, he fell for you almost instantly then retreated just as quick once he realized how deep it was getting. he often wondered if it scared you as much as it did him. he cursed himself every hour he held back over the next few weeks from sending you pictures of things that reminded him of you or just to tell you he missed you. of course, he was much more comfortable online than he was in front of you, when he was distracted by your glossy lips or the way you styled your hair, but it was a constant internal battle of how much was too much that might drive you away.

now, none of that should’ve mattered because he had you, but as your fingers danced over your skirt and you looked out the window, he ached to reach over and pinch your cheek or grab your smaller hands in his, but he was just… frozen. when he was up at night thinking about you, his mind often wandered to the way he treated you. he wondered if you could feel how much he cared about you. if he acted on his affections, would it scare you away? it shouldn’t have frustrated him the way his friends complimented your outfits or the way your girlfriends pulled you onto their laps and kissed your cheek goodbye in front of everyone, but it did. there was no reason to assume you would be opposed to him all over you, but a part of him wondered if his biggest appeal to you was this tough guy thing he had going on. he wondered if you would still like him as much if he was as vulnerable and playful as he wanted to be with you.

all of this speculating took up his brain power for the trip and he realized he hadn’t said anything since you left your house which was exactly the kind of blunder that kept him up at night. after he had parked, you stayed sitting for a beat, looking over at him with a shy smile that made him want to say screw the date and uncharacteristically pounce on you. you probably saw the error code printed on his forehead because you simply laughed and reached to unbuckle your seat belt.

sort of, he guessed, to make up for his silence, he practically leaped out of the car to open your door and help you out. as much as he worried about seeing a hint of disappointment in your eyes, he was so enamored with you and addicted to the exhilaration your presence gave him, he couldn’t help but look at you. there was no disappointment or judgment in your eyes, only adoration with a glimmer of mischief which made him squirm.

did he forget a milestone day? did he have something on his face?

he bit back the shaky inhale and smoothed his expression over again into a lopsided smirk,

“what is it?...” he tugged a strand of your hair to emphasize his antsiness without having to say it.

“oh nothing,” you say slyly, “let’s go hm?”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the rest of the date went actually rather smoothly to (mostly) his surprise but you noticed a palpable shift the longer you didn’t give in to having your hands all over him.

the snacks he bought at the food stall for the both of you were put right up to your lips, the corner of your mouth wiped immediately as soon as a crumb fell on them. he moved you around with an arm around your shoulders and snuck pictures of you as you admired the fishes in the pond and the flowers lining the road you walked on with intertwined fingers. once you reached the main bridge that overlooked the water you led the way, leaning against the railing and sighing thoughtfully.

“you’re being extra sweet today bin.”

you didn’t even say it mischievously, staring straight into the pond that had started to glitter in the sun that had hit its peak. your stray hairs were blown messily in front of your face in the breeze, and he was trying his very best to not disturb the moment and move them back behind your ear for you. he really was trying his best but eventually all of his racing thoughts from the last few weeks bubbled up until he couldn’t take it anymore. he put his hand on your shoulder, getting you to look at him before turning you fully facing him. it seemed your plan had worked but now the reward was starting to make you apprehensive with the twitch of his eyebrows and each tentative breath he took. he had both hands on your shoulders as he opened and closed his mouth debating where to start.

“you’re so… pretty.”

your eyebrows quirked as you wondered where this was going.

“wonbin…what’s the matter?”

“nothing is the matter. well- no i guess that’s not true i…” he trailed off as his hands slid over your arms and pulled you into an embrace. he couldn’t focus on talking when you looked at him like that.

“i just love you.” he felt your breath stop and the sun burned against his back. he felt like he was sandwiched between two stars. “i love you and i honestly don’t know how to show you- i don’t want to show- i don’t want to pressure you or seem clingy but i am clingy. i think about you all the time, i don’t want to miss you anymore i want to be with you all the time and tell you everything i like about you. i don’t want to lose you. i’m sorry if it ever seemed like i wasn’t interested, you seriously scared me at first i didn’t want to mess anything up.”

he hard stopped there when he felt himself start to stumble over his own tongue and realized you hadn’t said a word. now he was sure he’d said too much. you surely didn’t realize what you were getting into when you-

“wonbin.” you spoke against his shoulder, your hair brushed against his lips where he held you.

“i feel like i can hear you freaking out.” you giggled when you said it, but he didn’t feel ashamed, he felt…lighter. he laughed with you and loosened the grip he had on your shirt.

you raised your hands to belatedly reciprocate his hug, running your nails against his spine making him shiver.

“i’m glad to know it’s not just me that’s obsessed.” you pulled away as he averted his eyes to the ground. emphasizing the circling of your arms around his lithe middle you kept your eyes on his face. “i thought maybe you were just shy, then i thought maybe you just weren’t affectionate like that.”

 he looked back at you, eyes round and swallowing thickly, with a childlike pout on his face, “no i’m just dumb.”

now you really laughed, and it made him smile that he could finally be so open. “i thought maybe you wouldn’t like me if i wasn’t cool… or something like that…”

“ah, so you think i’m shallow...“

his eyes rounded in panic.

“no! no not- not shallow not- it’s my own thing i ma-“

“i’m just messing bin.”

“ugh don’t do that!” he threw his head back in desperation. “ i think you’re lovely and sweet and too patient with me. i…”

he couldn’t remember what he was going to say because of your lidded gaze on him. he knew what you wanted because he wanted it just as bad so he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. he drank in your sweet hum and nipped at your bottom lip when you couldn’t help but smile. his warm lips moved to the corner of your mouth and cheek when he gave up on kissing your teeth.

“so…” he snuck a kiss as you talked, “you love me bin?” he didn’t even mind the smirk in your voice when he gave an “mmhm” against your cheek. before pulling back in shock

“is that okay? you don’t have to say it back.” now the insecurity was setting in but he didn’t care when he was close enough to see every feature of your face.

“too bad, i love you too.”

“no it’s okay-oh. you really do?” he couldn’t have held back his smile even if he tried.

“yes, silly. now maybe we should continue this conversation at home i think people are starting to stare.” the idea that you were the shy one for once because of him made him feel like he was floating. it was more exhilarating to be this freely affectionate than to repress everything like his love was some sort of dark secret. you deserved nothing less than someone that was willing to give you the world and more. you deserved someone who told you every day how lucky they were to have you and he felt confident in becoming a man that was deserving of you.

he squeezed your cheeks together with one hand and leaned down to press a hard kiss against your face, chuckling when you yelped before slinging his arm over you. grinning as you both walked with purpose back to the car.

“you might actually get sick of me now you know.”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, “not happening, w-”

“yes ma’am!” he cut you off, his heart racing in his newfound freedom. now he could slowly start to love you like he wanted and there's nothing you could do about it.

[nephilimeq]

A Sense of Belonging

Prompt: Sharing A Blanket

@bucktommyfluffebruary

A03:

Tommy tugged his boyfriend closer to him as they made their way down to the beach, trailing behind the rest of the 118, whispering into his ear, “You really think they don’t mind that I’m coming along?” and Evan snorted and gave him a look.

“Tommy, you may be a member of the 217 now, but you are my boyfriend, so of course you’re invited.”

He then dragged him down to the beach, two blankets on his other arm, while the airman tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he had been invited to the 118’s barbecue bash on a private stretch of beach that had been offered up by one of the higher ups. It was apparently the anniversary of the day the 118 was first created, and they did it every year, and this year Evan wanted him to come along with him, as he hadn’t been able to last year as Tommy had been on call.

As they joined everyone on the beach, Bobby called out, “Hey! We have two rules! Remember them?”

Tommy grinned as Buck groaned, and then he watched with amusement as everyone reluctantly drawled out, “Don’t do anything to make us call 911…and you’re the only one who touches the grill,” and he laughed and shook his head.

“Oh my gosh, does he make you say this every year?”

“Yes,” Evan whined, moving them towards a clear spot over in the sand that was untouched, laying down one of the blankets, and Tommy smiled and joined him on top of it, noticing everyone else migrating a bit closer towards a circle that was being formed around what looked to be a pile of firewood that would soon be a beach bonfire, and he lit up at seeing it, feeling a twinge of excitement at the idea that they would be there long enough to enjoy a beach bonfire, something he had rarely experienced, all of his other experiences being ones in the army.

He nudged his boyfriend’s shoulder with his own and said low and quiet, “This looks like it’s gonna be fun,” and Evan shook his head and relied, “Let’s just say that I brought you here for a reason and hope you don’t mind being a buffer for when Chimney gets really drunk…”

“He gets that bad?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, surprised, and he nodded.

“Oh, yeah. It’s like beach bonfires unleash some part of him that usually never sees that light of day, so…prepare yourself,” he warned, and Tommy nodded.

“Noted.”

As they sat next to each other, he wondered if he should have brought the ring along with him. They had never talked about it before, but he thought Evan might not mind being proposed to in front of the people that he thought of as his family.

—and then his thoughts were cut off as Eddie shouted, “Tommy! You made it! Good, now there’s someone else who can critique Bobby’s grilling method with me,” and the airman laughed and stood up as the man approached, and they gripped each other’s hands and pulled, dropping a hand on the other’s shoulder, and he commented, “Not up to Texas grilling standards, I take it?” and Eddie shook his head, looking genuinely disappointed.

“Not even close,” he complained. “But maybe you can convince him to add more moisture to the steaks…”

Tommy shrugged, and then Evan was back up on his feet saying, “Hey, did you bring Chris with you?” and Eddie nodded and pointed over a ways.

“Yeah, he and the rest of the kids are spending some time together. I think they’re planning on another hostile takeover of your place,” he said with a wry grin and Tommy chuckled and replied, “I’m not complaining. It was great having all of them last time,” and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, ‘cause they’re always good for the cool uncles but never for the parents!”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

The three of them laughed, and then Tommy found himself following Evan and Eddie over to the rest of the 118, who were all mostly gathered around the bonfire area with various drinks and snacks in their hands, and as the two of them started to mingle, he wondered what would happen once he and Evan were engaged. As boyfriends they didn’t have much say in the other person’s career choices—despite them already living together—and so once they officially tied the knot, would their priorities change?

Even as Tommy joked with Hen about some of their most recent rescues, his thoughts went to the fact that he knew he would never want to give up his job, he loved it too much…and he had the distinct feeling that Evan felt the same way about being a firefighter, so how would having a family work?

“Hey, what’s on your mind?”

Howie.

“Uh…nothing, just…thinking about Evan,” he honestly replied, grateful when his friend handed him a craft beer, which he took gratefully. “Things are really good right now, you know? I’m just…I’m just reminding myself not to take any of it for granted…”

Howie grinned and tapped his beer against his own and said, “I know what you mean. Every day I wake up and I feel damn lucky to have Maddie and Jee in my life. Have things been perfect? Hell, no! But…they’re definitely worth it,” he finished with a smile as he took a long sip from the gold tinted glass bottle, and Tommy regarded him for a moment, wondering if he should ask him about how he should propose to Evan—but then he remembered that the man couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and so decided against it.

Instead he turned the conversation to a lighter topic as he kept an eye on his boyfriend who was moving his way towards the grill with a look in his eye that had him internally chuckling.

Oh, he was going to try and do something to the steaks, he just knew it.

But instead of doing anything, Tommy merely watched with an amused grin, enjoying the company of the 118 and the way they made him feel like he belonged, something that he had been craving for far too long—and soon (he hoped), it would be even more permanent than before.

The celebrating lasted long enough that the sun started to go down and the bonfire was lit up, and Evan had eventually migrated his way back to Tommy, drink in hand, cheeks lightly flushed, leaning into him and grabbing at his waist like they were teenagers, and the airman practically melted into every touch that his boyfriend gave him, feeling like he was somehow being able to experience something that he had been deprived of growing up.

There they stood in the fading light, lit only by the bonfire, cold drinks in hand, the wind drawing Evan’s dirty blonde hair into fluffy peaks, his eyes glowing. Somewhere in the background he could hear some music playing, something with a bouncy steel guitar, muted because it was far away.

All he could think of was the warm press of Evan’s body against his, the way his fingers slipped perfectly between his own, his head occasionally nuzzling into his shoulder, the sound of the kids screaming and laughing in the background as Howie—who was a little bit buzzed—was showing them how to play with the sparklers that he had somehow purloined from somewhere that he would bet good money wasn’t strictly legal…

…but it didn’t matter.

The sound of the waves was underneath it all as they ate the amazing food and enjoyed the wonderful company.

At some point a few people started dancing to the music in the background and he laughed when Maddie dragged her buzzed husband to a spot just beyond the bonfire and they began to twirl around. Tommy noticed the way Hen and Karen had been drinking nothing but juice and soda all night, keeping an eye on the kids, along with Bobby and Athena.

The wind picked up slightly and he felt Evan shiver next to him.

“Hey, let’s get back to the blankets,” he softly suggested against his ear, and the younger man nodded and let the airman lead him to where they had left the blankets.

As they sat down, Tommy stared at the way other members of the 118 began to dance as well, along with a couple of the kids, everyone feeling good on a typically warm California night. Evan still shivered, so he grabbed the second blanket and pulled it over both of their legs, smiling when Evan said, “Thanks,” and he pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Of course, babe,” he murmured, still soaking in the ambience of family and community, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that everyone around them would help him if he asked, and it was so intense that he had to close his eyes and swallow in an attempt to keep the tears from falling. He had never felt so safe and loved, and it was just…surreal. He had never thought that he would have this and that anyone would ever even care, let along claim to choose to love him.

He burrowed a bit more under the blanket, tugging Evan’s legs over his, watching as Eddie twirled Maddie, Howie sitting and watching with a fond smile.

He then softly whispered, “You have such an amazing family, Evan,” and his boyfriend looked up at him, blinked twice, and then said with a slow, toothy grin, “They’re our family, Tommy. You know that, right?” and he nodded.

“Yeah, I guess so…it’s just…I don’t think it’s really sunk in just yet, you know?”

They then fell into a comfortable silence, watching as everyone continued to celebrate…

…and then Evan nudged himself closer, practically in his lap, the two of them tangled up under the blanket that sprawled over their legs, and said into his neck, “Thank you for coming with me, babe. It wouldn’t have been the same without you, you know?” and he swallowed, feeling a rush of emotion, glad that he hadn’t brought the ring with him because he would have done something stupid and proposed to him right then and there, not caring who would see.

But now he knew that there wasn’t going to be anymore waiting.

Within a week, his boyfriend would be his fiancé.

[dearseirlyn]

• “MAILMAN, MAILMAN! TELL ME, WILL MY LOVE BE RETURNED?”

“WHAT? I'M JUST A GUY WHO EVERYONE MADE A LOVE LETTER MAILMAN, NOT A FORTUNE TELLER..”

— In your school, you’ve earned a peculiar reputation. Not exactly the “cool kid” nor the “loner,” but somewhere in between—and you’re perfectly fine with that. The labels people attach to you don’t matter. After all, what’s the point of a title that only adds more stress to your already tiresome school life?

You deliver the heartfelt confessions for people who weren't brave enough to do so themselves. It's weird. And because of it you've almost accidentally gotten a partner (only the people above knew how much you panicked in that moment). You always delivered them halfheartedly. Your part of the deal? People would leave you alone, and maybe.. a few yen to urge you to comply with a particularly difficult task.

Hakuho is nothing special, for a private school. The students are forgettable, the walls are a dull shade of marble, and the uniforms? Blindingly white with a hint of black— so stiff and formal, it feels like you're playing a game of chess, each of you confined to your assigned role.

But lately, there’s been something strange. This rich, popular guy with purple hair— Reo Mikage keeps leaving love letters in your locker. The problem? He never tells you who they’re for. It’s like he expects you to magically know where to deliver them. Seriously, you’re not some love guru, so how are you supposed to figure this out?

But here’s the real kicker; with every gift— you'll open one of the notes to find it’s addressed to you.

“From: Reo Mikage… To: (Name) (Last name)”

Doesn’t he know that love letters are supposed to for the crush, not the delivery guy?

I had this idea on a random school day at practice. I thought it'd be cute! Expect the first chapter to be in about.. 10 years!!:))))/j

Will edit this later, maybe

[commsroom]

Hi, I like the way you write and I like reading it, makes my brain worms go on overdrive. If you're feeling up to it, I'd like to know your thoughts on Kepler and Eiffel as a dynamic. I've always thought they were incredibly similar in a way none of the other characters in W359 are (save Eiffel + Hera with regards to their circumstances), imo they have some of the same core traits that just then...diverge and express themselves so differently. So yeah. Would love to see your perspective on them.

first, i'm not sure if i see the degree of similarity that you do, but i do think that one of the strengths of wolf 359's character writing is that basically any two characters can serve as narrative parallels and/or foils in some aspect or another.

for eiffel and kepler, i think the main thing they share is a desire to narrativize and distance themselves from their identities. in kepler's case, he perceives it as a career necessity; he's compartmentalized and redefined himself so much that his job is all that's left. for eiffel, it's a manifestation of guilt and self loathing: he can't reconcile the things he's done, the versions of doug eiffel that he's been, with his own moral compass, and it tears him apart. kepler is a man with so so many ulterior motives, and eiffel is a man who really doesn't have any, but i think you could probably say they're both "honest liars" - that how they spin their respective narratives betrays some simple, fundamental truths about who they are as people.

as a dynamic... well, i have a post here about need to know. eiffel and kepler are both pretty good at sizing people up, though obviously what information they value (and what they intend to do with that information) is very different. what kepler is always trying to assess, what he values most, is the utility of others. not necessarily what they can do for him, but what can they do, period? what do they have to offer? eiffel is the exact opposite: he only cares about someone's character, who they are. minkowski is the commander, even when she's not, because the person she is to him remains the same.

this might be a little contentious (and i'll elaborate if i ever write more about gender dynamics), but i think kepler is specifically good at knowing how to appeal to different forms of masculinity. he's good at being someone's drinking buddy, which is a very loaded concept in this context. jacobi is a gay man with military father issues, and kepler knows he will respond to masculine authority. eiffel - however you read him - does not feel out of place in straight society, and has no respect for authority. kepler initially tries to be his buddy, to be the "cool boss" who laughs at his jokes and respects his work and gives him perceived leniency (and stands up for his autonomy against hilbert, which is a whole other thing with a whole set of other ulterior motives), in an attempt to make minkowski out to be high strung and unreasonable, and to reinforce eiffel's biases about her. he's trying to pit them against each other, but that strategy doesn't work, in part because if you give eiffel an inch, he'll take a mile, and in part because kepler misunderstands and underestimates eiffel's loyalty to minkowski. (incidentally, i think kepler is actually less attached to his own masculinity than either eiffel or jacobi are; like every aspect of his identity, it's more of a tool he's learned how to use.)

as an extension of that, kepler knows how to get at a very particular sore spot of eiffel's: his role as a father. when kepler threatens anne and eiffel instigates a fist fight with him over it, it's the only time in the entire show where eiffel resorts to violence. it's the only thing that makes him react like that; he can't physically attack cutter in pagliacci, but it sure sounds like he wants to. he knows, once he's calmed down, that it was stupid, and that he was manipulated, and that it didn't do anything to help his daughter, light years away, but there's a gut anger in him that overrides that in the moment. maybe you can argue eiffel using kepler's ideals about "the big picture" to convince him to stand down in desperate measures is the other side of that. eiffel never resorts to violence, but that time he did. kepler pushes, he doesn't stop, he doesn't surrender, but that time he did.

... and it is compelling that kepler, specifically, is able to provoke eiffel like that, when i would argue the central disagreement of their characters is "force vs. diplomacy." kepler's response to conflict is an assumption of violence and preemptive intimidation: "someone always has power, which means that someone else is always getting shafted. first order of business when a new element pops into your comfortable power structure: reconnaissance. these folks gonna help or hinder? do they have anything i want? anything worth taking? or have they got a stick big enough that it's worth leaving them alone?" while eiffel's approach can basically be summed up by, "can't we talk about this?" and so he fundamentally does not agree with that framework; eiffel believes in teamwork and cooperation. eiffel wants there to be a way for everyone to win. the dear listeners, narratively (and sometimes in some very literal ways), serve as a mirror to humanity, and i think you can extend that on some level to individuals. kepler's approach gets him "disarmed"; eiffel's approach... facilitates "communication."

sometimes i see people joke about eiffel's phrasing in succulent rat-killing tar - "i just like being able to have them in my mouth. i like the taste." - in comparison to the whiskey speech, but i think maybe there is something in the different ways they present those vices. kepler is putting it on display to say, "i'm better than my vices, and i expect you to be, too" - it's a threat, yes, but also a purposeful display of (projected) discipline and temperance. that's how he wants to be seen. eiffel, on the other hand, is completely hedonistic and indulgent, and he's proud of that. it's an act of resistance for him. he's saying, "this is the only vice i have left up here, i am going to enjoy these goddamn cigarettes, and you're not going to take that from me too." douglas f. "maintaining my humanity in the face of bogus military protocol" eiffel.

"long story short" (and it is also funny to me how mad kepler gets at eiffel in all things considered: "your story was not only the most incomprehensible, it wasted the largest amount of my life." ... oh, really now?) i think you could probably put the scene where kepler tells lovelace: "you're an unknown variable, and i hate those." next to: "it's a fire. on a spaceship. you shouldn't need any further explanation!" / "hah! spoken like a man that doesn't know the first thing about commanding douglas f. eiffel!" ... and that would pretty much sum it up. doug eiffel is like perfectly designed to piss off anyone with any attachment to order and authority.

[hulloitsdani]

Fighting for your life with heroes against brand new ones that sweep your team. Henrietta lore? That power she must keep in check? Summoner just won't die. Only in some timelines. and badly. Sharena. Ragnorok?!?! Loki's shenanigans.

Thank you stranger! In no particular order, let’s go through these

First off, OH I LOVEEEEEE BEING IMMEDIATELY PROVEN WRONG ABOUT LOKI. FINALLY. THANK FUCK. The validation I felt when the question of her motives was IMMEDIATELY brought up this book. I don’t care that my read was wrong— what I truly wanted more than anything was something of more substance to read into. As for actual predictions, my bets are that her aims are on bringing about Ragnorok and the end of the gods. For fun. As a treat. For the silly.

As for the actual state of the game, idk man, I play this game weird. I’m both free to play and entirely causal, so it’s entirely up to luck if I ever have any relevant units. In my many years of playing this game, I have never managed to +10 merge a unit that wasn’t a grail unit. So I don’t tend to play game modes where that matters much, with the exception of aether raids sometimes. I like clearing the challenge maps and making the story mode levels really difficult by using strictly Askr trio.

For events outside of that, I have a lot of fun using about one team per six months and trying to creatively use them and their base skills to solve whatever new bullshit is added. The game is clearly not built for you to do that, but I like the challenge it poses. I got really lucky on the CYL7 banner and got all four of the guys from that event. Brave Robin, Corrin, Soren and Gullvieg was my go to team for wayyyy longer than it should have, especially with zero changes to their kits and no merges. Hell I didn’t even have dragon flowers on half of them because Askr Trio building has long stolen most of flower supply. But god was it fun. I know how that group of units play off each other like the back of my hand. And considering how most people tend to just be frustrated with this game’s gameplay, it feels like I must be doing something right. I am constantly broke tho, so rip.

On the lore side, Henriette and Gustav are such a fascinating two for one package for me. Marketable plushies often bought together please don’t separate. The :) to his >:(. They’re both are great rulers and loving partners, but fumbled a bit in their parenting in ways that make total sense. For you see, I am a firm believer that everyone walks out of their childhood at least a little fucked up. Even the best parents are still human. And I adore Askr’s royal family unit, because it digs into that idea! Henriette and Gustav weren’t abusive or harboring malicious intent, but they were neglectful and lacking in ways that cannot be denied. Which is extremely cool! More of this please and thank you.

Looping back to the quote in question, to be perfectly honest, I would be pleasantly surprised if we ever got answers for her day of devotion alt voice lines. However, Gustav having a wife with the power to kill him easily would be so fucking funny. Like father, like son. If your romantically coded life partner can’t theoretically ensure your body is never found, what’s even the point. She doesn’t even need to be secretly divine or anything— I would be satisfied with her being something as simple as an abnormally strong mage. She can accidentally fold people like an omelet if she’s not being careful. Which, now that I’m putting that into writing, might contribute to her relationship with her kids.

Speaking of, Sharena!!! My best friend Sharena!!! I’ve got a multitude of thoughts cooking for her, but currently the one at the forefront is making home girl jacked as hell. Not joking. Dead ass. We all know the role she plays on a personality level— she’s the heart. The emotional glue that keeps these loner trickster types together and in check. But considering that this is the theater of war and everyone else has a role to play, I think it could be interesting if she was the beefiest fighter in the Askr trio. She’s able to dedicate the time fully to that craft, you know? She’s not balancing the responsibilities that arise from being the Order’s commander, tactician, or right hand man/history buff. Not to mention she was trained to fight by Bruno, who presumably played the role of group muscle before her. Therefore, when it comes to feats of physical strength, Sharena should be the Order’s go-to lady! I think it would be neat! She deserves the ability to easily carry her commanding officer and beat Alfonse’s nerdy ass in an arm wrestle.

Last but certainly not least, summoner bad ends! What could possibly go wrong? A lot, apparently. And it happens much more often than you’d expect.

See, I don’t think it’s that the summoner cannot die. Polar opposite, if anything. Each success is built upon the littered corpses of millions of failures. This idea loops back to the alternate version of Askr the group finds in book 3. In order to defeat Hel, they must loot the corpse of a dead world. By its very nature, not every summoner has an alternate corpse to loot. At least half of all realities where the summoner exists results in death and ruin by book 3 ALONE. This is saying nothing of all the dangerous odds they must beat from then to book 9. Just pulling one example off the dome, in order to defeat Gullveig, they had to die a truly eldritch and inconceivable amount of times. But we the audience don’t bear witness to that. We get to see the one world with the one summoner who is hitting those fraction of a fraction odds. The universe’s luckiest bastard. Others are not so lucky.

[ameliaegschulz]

"It's... complicated," answered Gates, recognizing the blush. "I'm still not sure I fully understand it..."

Gates stepped further back away from the portal and next to Charlotte's pod, resting her arm on it while she waited for Haya and... just Haya. "Artemis: Whitelist!" she shouted to the ceiling, the moment Haya stepped through. "Temporary!"

She sighed. "...so much is coming back to me."

Wristwatch lifted, aimed at the portal, Gates prepared to close it behind Haya, but hesitated at the last second. After a moment of pondering, she decided to leave it open, staying by Charlotte's pod while Haya gave the two daughters a closer look. Haya's smile, and her positive words, brought some life back to Gates's eyes. Then came the "But..." from Haya.

"I see halves."

You too...? thought Gates.

"Without Yan, it's like their fading away."

Another sigh. That makes three, then...

"But.. it's strange, you look at each half and they seem brimming with fire."

Gates stepped between the pods, one hand on each, trying to see what Haya was seeing in her unconscious daughters. Trying to feel for that brimming fire Haya could sense withi--

"They could form a single stable soul."

"Aah... I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that last part." Her eyes met Haya's. "What was it you said just now?"

After letting Haya repeat herself and more, Gates's hands tightened again, as they did in the living room, leaving light scratches on the pods' surfaces. She restrained herself before completely losing her cool, pondering long and hard about what was suggested. Eyes on Charlotte. On Sophia. On Haya. Closed. On her feet. Back on Haya.

"...I've been having nightmares, Haya," shared Gates, seemingly out of the blue. "Two different ones at first, but last night, they were one. My instinct is telling me to share this one with you."

A projector in the middle of the laboratory automatically turned on, only to be met with Gates shouting, "Artemis: Silence mode!"

The projector deactivated. Gates closed her eyes.

"It started with my daughters. Zak' was there, too. We were playing Zero-G Football together, then after the fifth game Zak' disappeared... and as she did, so did half of Sophia. And half of Charlotte. Each split cleanly in half, falling to the floor. I dragged the halves together the best I can and jump through the swirling red vortex left behind where Zak' was.

"Next thing I knew, I was in my space shuttle. Flying at maximum speed to the Assembly planet in the galaxy where I first met her. I didn't think much of it until I looked behind me to see that damned hunter in one of the passenger seats. Renee, if I'm remembering it right. I ended up in the capital with the hunter leaving my sights. But there was Zak', waving me over to see her and the others she was with. Right before she could hug me, she clutched her chest in pain. Time froze... Blinding flashes of blood red. The crunches of a knife twisting in one's back. I reached for her, but she vanished. No... exploded. Everything around me turned to red. Red mist... red blood... the haunting laughter of red smiling faces all around me.

"Then I heard her voice... that slightly French but wholly demonic voice... telling me I did this... that this is all my fault... all while I saw a silhouette of another woman... I couldn't tell you who it was for the life of me, only that she was soaked in... red... just, red, in its purest form... Then flashes of my severed daughters, their halves in pools of blood on the floor. Then she crackled with blue. Behind her, a visage of Zak'. Flickering. There was another I saw but for a moment. Male. College age. Brown hair and glasses. Deep down, I feel like I should've recognized him, but I couldn't. I can't now for the life of me.

"Then I saw her form, reaching for my soul, as she reached for Zak's all those years ago... addressing me as hero before she dragged me down to Hell with her..."

"...and then I woke up."

She pulled her hands away from the pods. "I should've seen this day coming, I guess is what I'm saying. But... even then..."

Gates struggled to find more words to express how she was feeling. Before much longer, she pounded a trembling fist into the nearest countertop, leaving a dent in the metal.

"Dammit!" she cried. "I don't have another choice, do I?!"

Though Haya wanted to say it herself, she looked up to Aiharu and gave her a slight nudge, suggesting she got put on some more water. Her harsh words were what was needed, but following it up with harder topics to follow, Aiharu wasn't the best to handle it.

Really neither of them were, both with their faults, but Haya's honest attempt to empathize with her guest would do better her. "Sorry.."

Gates seemed well irked, or perhaps just really emotional, the news she just received was something no one wanted to hear. It crushed one hope, and slightly flat-lined the other.

Haya wanted to reach out to comfort them, but just as quickly as she did, Gates was up on her feet. Whatever she was doing, it had Aiharu on edge, clutching her fists as Haya waved a hand to her to stop.

She wanted to see what Gates was doing, not believing for a second the other might be mad at them and about to do something unwise.

Instead, Haya followed her, and as Gates crumpled to pain a bit, Haya offered a soothing magic hand to ease pain. Staring through the portal to see the girls, sleeping soundly. How strange one was just like Gates, the other like Zak'yanna in looks. Though with some other, oddities it seems.

"No I.. I don't mean that way. I want to know... if you." There's a little tinge of a blush, but the question was probably understood. Were they products of natural birth, of artificial insemination, or something different.

The girls born of cloning and half of Zak'yanna's energy, were probably not the most natural born girls one might have.

"Aiharu wait here. You know how it is, we can't both be gone." Their presence in the city kept many evils at bay, they needed one to remain. So Haya went through, walking up to the girls sleeping with a soft fascinated face.

"I can almost hear them. You really do have such vibrant girls, I can see their souls flickering but.." A hand on the glass of each pod, there's a frown that crosses Haya's face.

"I see halves. Without Yan, it's like their fading away. No will to live, no sense of direction. But.. it's strange, you look at each half and they seem brimming with fire."

She turns her head to Gates and already the other might know what she means to say. Haya doesn't even want to say it, "Together.."

"They could form a single stable soul."

[lemongogo]

viktor prev 🤖

[kyouka-supremacy]

(╥﹏╥)

[fleshdyk3]

I JUST SAW FOUR ADULT REDTAILS????

[marlynnofmany]

Lookie what I got! The rarest of collector's editions, with only one in existence! (There's an @ symbol in place of a © on the title page.)

(There's only one because I fixed it after I ordered my proof copy.)

Someday this will be very valuable, for sure!