#I GOT LONG WINDED AGAIN GOD DAMMIT

[nyanbinary-81]

OKAY. OKAY. SO. @punk-junkie69 hi its me again. i figured id visualize what the hell i was talking abt for u bc its really hard to get across in tags so BEHOLD. STELLAR SKETCHBOOK PAGE I DID.

i unfortunately didnt have time to do much more but this is my preliminary exploration of your oc and her identity in relation to skating and maria. i was trying a bunch of stuff at once in a very short amount of time, a lot of which i didnt end up liking, seeing how the faces differed and what elements could be combined or changed, etc.

and some of it didnt even make it past the highlighter phase. highlighter is actually a relatively new technique to me, i last did it several months ago with watercolor cats, so for someone who actually Does this regularly, id recommend checking out ginjaninjaowos recent videos and especially sketchbook tours, its fascinating stuff.

i was having a really good time playing with ponytail vs scarf vs tail for the flowy silhouette, so i took a different pose i tried and liked:

i felt like with the shapes i was going for, this post highlighted what i could do with them and left room for testing out the flow of different elements, so THIS is the one i took to digital, even though the pose itself doesnt scream "ice skater" like the actual referenced sketch from the previous page.

i stuck to 4 simple ones: a couple extra long ponytails, a big scarf, and one with the original trifecta of design elements. you can see how each of them has a different feeling, and even the consistent silhouette brings its own feeling which modifies the final product, so again theres a lot of iterating that could be done.

and there are. a lot of things. very fundamental things. that i would personally change about stellar if i designed her. but thats not relevant. you know why? because YOU can do whatever you want forever.

my biggest criticism of the crit you received off reddit is that they kind of. tell you where to go with the design? "lose this, emphasize that, do it This Way and think abt the Lore". i dont like that! i think art is at its best when its wildly self indulgent. if you want to give her a bonkers complicated sword bc it sounds awesome, do it!! if you want to give her hair instead of quills bc it looks better, then give her hair!! its Your Art!! make it worse on purpose to see what sticks! throw spaghetti at that wall! thats the primary reason why i made her fat in my version; because i would have fun drawing it, and therefore be happier with both the process and result. it making sense for the character is how i propaganda other people into doing it (this is a bit).

i actually really liked your initial sketch of her bc regardless of anything that could be improved, theres a lot of heart in it! theres whimsy in that pose and smile! theres fun in those patterns and complexities! the most recent iteration is Nice, but for as much as shes been "improved", she feels like she lost something. so go back!! make her worse and more fun on purposed!! for your soul!!!

[yoiisa]

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

tags: TW: mentions of bullying and verbal abuse!, hurt/comfort, angst with fluffy ending, my precious bby boy sakura needs a hug!

thinking about comforting sakura haruka after a nightmare! my poor baby (੭ ;´ - `;)੭ ♡

the dreams always start out the same in his mind. voices drift into his ears from nowhere, but their unavoidable. the volumes and toxicity vary, but each one is another knife twist and gun shot. he can feel presences, like ghosts, lingering around him and behind him. their eyes bore into his skull as he watches the abyss grow in front of him. his only mode of transportation? a tightrope.

"again? this is the fifth time he's beaten someone up this week!"

"call the school nurse! god dammit, that fucking punk . . ."

"hey, come over here, get away from him. if he catches you looking at him like that . . ."

sakura takes a deep breath before finally, he takes a step out. one foot and then the next. the rope sways beneath him, and his arms instinctively go out to try and steady himself.

"you got in trouble at school again?! sakura what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"stay away from the other kids! i don't want your influence rubbing off on them!"

"as if his appearance wasn't off putting enough . . ."

by the time Sakura reaches the middle of the rope, he's feeling light enough to let the insults roll off of him. occasionally, he feels thrown enough to almost fall, but the teetering is momentary - he finds his footing.

however, a soft voice breaks through the muddy mess of everyone else.

"i wish i'd never dated you . . ."

it's hardly a whisper, but he knows that voice. he knows the cadence, the gentle lilt. it'd just put him to sleep a couple hours ago. his head on your chest, your hands mussing his hair, you. you, you, you-

"goodbye, sakura."

"NO WAIT!"

he whirls on the tightrope and immediately dips into the abyss. wind whips past him, tangling his two-toned hair and sending his tears up and away, as if they're chasing you.

he tries to call out, "don't leave," but it gets lost in the roar of the voices, of the wind, of the pounding of his heart in his ear.

a quiet gasp escapes sakura as he shoots up from his futon. a hand clenches against his chest, as if checking that his organs are still there. his eyes take a moment to adjust to the room, the sparse items littering the floor and the sink countertops. a duffle bag of your things rests next to his futon and his eyes finally fall to your sleeping frame.

a strand of hair falls onto your face, and your lashes cast shadows on your cheek. your lips are slightly parted as you take soft breaths. finally, you mutter something and you stir.

"haruka?" your eyes flutter open and you look up at him. in the moon, his golden eye glows like honey and you can't help but give him a sleep smile. "what's wrong?"

you push yourself up and cup his face. "Haru . . .?"

sakura whips his head from your touch and shakes his head. he rests his head in his hands and mutters, " 'ts nothing, go back to sleep."

"haru . . ." you whisper, like if you speak too loudly, you'll scare him off entirely. "c'mon . . . look at me."

after a few heavy breaths, sakura turns to look at you. he looks like he's on the verge of tears, his body shakes and he keeps blinking. he goes pliant in your hold as you pull him towards you, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders. he can pull away at any time.

but he doesn't. his hands go to your waist, and he digs his fingers into the flesh, trying to hold you there permanently. his face goes to the crook of your neck and he inhales, his tremors subsiding every so slightly.

"bad dream?" you ask after a moment of silence. he's silent for a long time, before grunting in assent. you giggle softly and rub his arm and shoulder. you turn your head and kiss his temple. "i'm here," you whisper into his hair.

there're so many words that linger on the tip of his tongue. they claw their way up his throat and beg to be spoken, to be heard, but his lips remain stubbornly shut. his body slowly relaxes, the tremors subsiding. his fingers no longer dig dimples into your waist, and his touch is more reverent as his thumb brushes your skin through your clothes. eventually, he manages to pull back and look you in your eyes. his golden one shines brightly with passion.

your smile grows and you brush your thumb under his eyes. you nuzzle your nose with his and whisper, "there you are~"

" . . . shut up," he grumbles as he press his mouth against yours in a kiss.

a/n: genuinely adore him. my entire fyp on here has been chibi sakura and suo drawings and I'm legit losing my mind everytime i open tumblr!!

[irishmammonagenda]

Your head hits your pillow. Your heavy eyes close, leaving your world in darkness.

Darkness that for a split second turns into the most fiery terrifying pits of hell before being overwritten.

Darkness that brightens up into a luscious garden, one in which a tanned woman is standing, arms crossed.

Her long inky black hair blows softly in the wind at the same rhythm of her softly fluttering garments. She looks familiar in the way of deja vu.

You feel drawn to her, so you walk closer, close enough to be at arm's length.

She slaps you.

"Ow! What was that for?!" You blink, taking a step back.

"That was for being an idiot." The woman shrugs, her lips are the same shape as Lucifer's when he scowls. You shudder. "I mean honestly," She grabs your shoulders and shakes you. "I thought you were smarter than this."

"Smarter than what?" You get out rather shakily seeing as you're being shaken. She sighs and holds her head in her hands, now leaning against a tree.

"Have I taught you nothing? Has all my guidance been for nothing?"

You pause. "....You're Lilith."

She nods, "And you're quite intellectually challenged by the looks of it."

A crow caws in the distance, probably laughing at that one.

"Mean."

"MC."

You turn your attention back to your ancestor and smile innocently. "Yes?"

Lilith grabs you by the shoulders, and you brace yourself, preparing to be shaken again, but you're not. Instead the most beautiful grey eyes look into yours, eyes that held a storm in them. " I don't care if you have pacts with the Seven Avatars Of Sin. I don't care if you have the Demon Prince and Butler wrapped around your finger. Your never ever ever, fuck with an ouija board."

"I was in the Human Realm with my human friends! We got bored and I missed everyone!"

Lilith deadpans. "You have a DDD."

"....Good point?"

"I'm serious MC. As your great times a thousand billionth grandmother, I forbid you from playing with that board again. Even the Wise Sorcerer doesn't use ouija boards! Mostly because the demons in those boards have a restraining order against him....but still."

"So, you're banning me?"

Lilith smirks, "If I even catch wind or even suspect you're using one again. Especially as stupidly as you used the one with your human friends, I'm going to write a letter detailing your exploits and have the breeze blow it atop of both Lucifer and Barbatos' desks."

Your eyes widen in terror. "Are you...blackmailing me?"

"Yes." She smiles.

"God Dammit."

The world fades into black once more, you see glimpses of horrors beyond your comprehension for a split second once more as you feel yourself be shaken awake.

The Avatar of Sloth looks at you sternly, almost as if he was mimicking Lucifer. Jealousy in his gaze. "Care to tell me why your dreams are infested with demons that aren't me?"

He's already in demon form. Damn.

You blink. Those images that flashed for a second was what was supposed to be your dreams? So Lilith took you out of your dreams? So he couldn't see Lilith?

Belphie blinks, holding eye contact with you as he slinks sneakily into your bed beside you. "So who are those guys? Your new dream buddies?" He scoffs, acting more like his older, more envious brother for a moment.

"...I...." You look away from him. "Don't tell Lucifer....but...when I was in the Human Realm....I might've maybe....messed around with some stuff?"

Belphie stretches intertwining your legs with his, "What stuff." It was hardly a question.

"...Ouija boards?"

"You idiot." He says as his tail smacks you, before wrapping around your waist like a shackle.

"...Don't worry, MC." He says in a softer tone, though the sinister look on his face said otherwise, "...I'll flush those bastards out."

"....Thanks Belphie."

He looks at you through half lidded eyes as he rests his chin on your chest. "If you do something stupid like that again while in the Human Realm, I don't think I'll let you leave next time you come back down here."

Belphie smiles as the both of you fall asleep, the low life demons he originally thought were secret boyfriends (he doesn't think straight when he's jealous) but were actually just stupid enough to latch themselves onto you had actually done him a favour. This would be a great thing to bring up to a certain six brothers he had if you ever tried to leave the Devildom for so long again.

[bunji-enthusiast]

If I'm not bothering you then can you make a sonic exe x reader?

Where exe is able to leave and go back into the game anytime he wants and reader isn't scared of him at all after the first time they met

Then during a strong storm (no rain just strong winds and loud thunder) the whole house becomes black and exe tries to use that to his advantage to scare reader, with her famous chase around the house as reader is litting some candles on but of course he fails in scaring them so in the end they just end up cuddling together on the couch for the rest of the night

It's very simple it's just what I have on my mind for now sorry XD

Long Into The Abyss — Sonic.EXE

Note || that’s fine! A very neat idea :>

WC || 1,527

Sypnosis || Your a hard person to scare, he wonders how he can even deal with that. But soon enough he gives up on the idea.

The first time you had met him was the only time you truly were scared of your fluffy blue friend ridden with malice and lust for murder, though it was only upon those originally living in his world he had inflicted it upon. He thought it to be interesting to scare the hell out of you when your poor innocent soul came across his corrupted game.

Watching the way you panicked when trying to look for a way out for Tails was amusing, but when he had finally made his infamous appearance upon the screen. That was more amusing than anything, the way you screamed when he did. 

Now utter confusion just simply fills him when he realizes you aren’t as phased by his antics anymore, not even when he appears outside of the game in your house.

“What the hell?” He muttered when you continued playing various different routes of his game, he intentionally had created them on purpose to see if he could scare you again. Even then every time with your attempts to save Tails, Knuckles and even Eggman; you weren’t scared anymore. Just only cursing when you mess up.

“Dammit.” You curse under your breath when you're on one of the death routes, you kept forgetting about this specific one. 

“No no, no no-” 

The death screen appears, detailing the very specific death of your poor character. You wince in an apologetic manner for putting him through it again. “Sorry, I’m trying my best here.” He then decides to appear right next to you, swirls of glitches and blurriness permeating his arrival.  

“Oh hey!” You said, noticing him from the corner of your eye.

“How are you not afraid?” He interjects in a curious yet amused tone, sincerely he was curious to know how you can maintain such a calm and ready manner even while playing. The demonic hedgehog floats around you from behind, while he was albeit rude and murderous at times, he wasn’t about to break your concentration. 

“I dunno?” You shrug, before adding on, “I got used to it I guess.” He raises a brow, seemingly confused with the answer you gave. But only with humans could they actually answer this way, it would only make sense, he concludes. For a few moments he blinks, giving you an incredulous look nonetheless. 

“I see.”

Then he disappears into the air, leaving you alone in your own company once more. You were actually getting used to the bloody hedgehog, in a way. You wonder if he will come back around at all once again. “Too bad.” You shrug, turning your attention completely back on the game. You wanted to see what else you could find while you still were in the game, you thought he was interesting for even creating more routes.

You know this because you remember them all not being there near the beginning, since your first official meeting with the self-proclaimed god. 

“Alright Knuckles, let's see if I can do a better job with you.” You pause in your gait, feeling a little hopeless for continually failing them multiple times in a row. You wonder if you should just actually stop playing the game altogether, you caused them enough pain. 

‘Am I actually causing them pain? They aren’t even real.’ You thought to yourself, but this wasn’t anything new to you. You often just played games for fun, this one in particular wasn’t any different, even if it was a corrupted game file. 

You didn’t know what to do, but just searched far and wide – as extensively as possible. You grew up with them sort of, they were your childhood imaginary friends. There for you so that you didn’t feel so alone at recess, in school or just anywhere in general. Popularity was not your most dominant trait growing up, especially not now. 

But they were your friends, so was he. 

–

The whole storm threw you completely off guard, you just wanted to go back home. You got yourself caught in the middle of it when you dropped off something at a friend’s, you certainly didn’t expect it least of all during your way back home. But you were close to being there, that was the fortunate part of it. 

“Crap-” A strong wind nearly threw you off course, but you immediately corrected yourself and got back on track. Your house was appearing in view, finally you could pull back into the driveway. 

Once in the driveway, you turned your car off and opened the door, you suddenly got the wind knocked out of you when you left the car. You heaved as you caught your breath, trying your best to close the door then ran straight for the door. Even in the midst of it all, you were surprised that you managed to find your way back in the dark. 

The loud sounds of all the thunder didn’t help you though.

You yelped as another loud sound of crackling thunder resounded in your ears, this certainly by no means was a normal storm. This was a very harsh storm, you had to get inside.

“C-Come on,” You shook in the cold outside, fiddling with your key to unlock the door. It was a struggle that demanded concentration and patience, nothing of which you really had right now. “Sonuva- ugh.” Your lips pursed in tight posterity as you finally succeeded in unlocking the door. 

It made you question why you shouldn’t have just gotten one of those security locks, or even the padlocks would’ve just worked fine and dandy. 

You look around at your familiar house, finding the usual safety and comfort in it. Only problem being, the whole house was smothered in darkness. You could’ve sworn you left at least some lights on, you were aware you usually forget to turn them off before you leave, but they really would help in your predicament right now.

Your feet were light, you creeped around the house as if you were afraid something would suddenly jump out at you from beyond the dark. Sometimes you weren’t afraid of the dark, other times you were very afraid of the damned dark. Something flickered in the corner of your peripherals, causing you to jump. 

It felt like the ligament holding your eyes tightly in their sockets will just fall out from the way they had nearly bulged that far out. 

“Jesus christ-”

Only a few minutes had passed now, successfully lighting a few candles around the house. You definitely felt more comfortable and less afraid now. Suddenly you could hear a few thumps resound from behind you, you looked behind your shoulder to see it was him. 

“RUN.”

You absolutely didn’t need to be told twice, not when he was feeling particularly murderous right now. Dying this young was not on your bucket list, you took off and immediately grabbed the lighter to begin lighting every other candle in the house. 

Still, he had spoken while he chased you, “You're fast! Not bad at all.” You could hear that bone-chilling laugh echo throughout the halls. Still, you didn’t allow yourself to falter. 

NOPE, NOPE, NOPE–

You find yourself at the last candle you could find, and light it. You turn around to see the bloody hedgehog standing behind you, no longer possessing a ‘god-fearing’ appearance. He just looked innocent and rather small compared to you. 

He huffs and sighs, shoulders relenting in defeat. “You're impossible, you little gnat.” At his words, you chuckle and nod, crossing your arms with a tilt of your head, “So I’ve been told, can’t scare me easily with all this light now can you?” You stuck your tongue out when you finished speaking. 

“I suppose not.” He snaps with a very clearly annoyed disposition, legs folding into a crossed sitting position while his elbow laid to rest for him to rest his cheek on the palm of his hand. His other one tapped the end of his knee on his other leg. 

You shot a glare at the demon-possessed hedgehog, “Well don’t be like that, we could just maybe be cuddle buddies instead?”

One of his ears flicker at the possible insinuation in your offer, brows furrowing as he replied, “What kind of a ridiculous demand is that?”

Your head rolls around as if you were trying to bite back some sort of desperation spilling from your words, you inhale, mouth opened as you attempt to speak. Then you close your mouth, lips pursing in a bout of self-defeat. 

He notices this, his ears falling flat as he sighs. Voice glitching with a bout of nervousness, “Get on the couch.”

You let out a squeak of excitement, not having to wait for him to repeat it again you had already made your way there. You patted the cushion seat beside you, wanting not to wait another second. He wonders to himself why he even agreed to this in the first place, he wasn’t like this to anyone else who played his game.

So why do you seem so different? You were just another possibility of a victim.

But he gives in, climbing onto the couch with you.

[loki-valeska]

Medli headcanon

I JUST REALIZED I NEVER TALKED ABOUT THIS HERE So anyway: I've had the hc that Medli is a weak flyer for a while now. Mostly due to how she has a stamina meter while the rest of the Rito can fly for much longer. And I think there's dialogue in Wind Waker to support this a bit.

This dialogue is given to Link before getting the Grappling Hook, wherein Medli states she used the Grappling Hook to climb the mountain, and that Rito used them before evolving to have wings.

We know Medli already has her wings by this point bc she uses them to get into the cavern with Link's help. I also wanna point out how she needs Link's help here to even get in the air. One could very well argue it's bc of the wind currents, which is what Medli says in game. But adding to how she needs the Grappling Hook throughout the Dungeon despite there being no wind that we can see on our trek, and already having wings to fly with is interesting to me. Why would she need to use that if she could just fly there?

"But Loki!" You're probably saying; "She only got her wings recently! She's probably just not skilled enough with them yet."

And to that, I need to point out:

Komali got his wings very recently, sometime after Medli did, and yet he flew all the way from Dragon Roost Island, to the Forsaken Fortress, to the Tower of the God's with Tetra in tow, and then back to Dragon Roost without us ever seeing him stop for any reason. The ocean in Wind Waker is massive, so flying that long on relatively new wings, is by no means a small feat. We also just see him flying around in the air during certain cutscenes. Something we never see Medli do. You could argue being the Chief's son makes him better at flying or something, but there's nothing in game to suggest that so it's entirely speculation.

When you go to the Earth Temple you have the option to control Medli and fly around without needing a jumpstart from Link. During this part of the game, she can only fly for about 10 seconds before getting tired. (Ik that this is only there to balance gameplay and whatever but let me whimsical and have hcs dammit/j) Sidebar:

This has nothing to do with anything but her having confidence issues breaks my heart, poor girl 😭😭😭 She's constantly asking if it's okay for her to suggest things and apologizing if her trying to help is annoying. YOU'RE NOT ANNOYING ME PLEASE I WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS, YOU HAVE GOOD IDEAS

Anyway, sidebar over

I also wanna point out that at the end of the game we see Komali and Medli again and while Komali greets you while flying, Medli is standing on the deck of Tetra's ship. We never really see Medli fly for long amounts of time. The only times we see her fly it's explicitly stated somehow that she can't do it for long. Whereas other Rito, like Komali and Quill, seem to be able to fly for indefinite amounts of time, with little to no issue.

I thought it was kinda cool how a lot of things seem to point to her having some kind of disability that leads to her being unable to fly for very long. I'm definitely gonna make this a part of my AU, bc I really like it. That's kinda all my thoughts on this for now. Now to get back to drawing.

[hutahuta]

Desparate to get away from a creep that been harassing you, you rush to pavia despite not knowing each other yet saying he is your boyfriend what will he do? Plsss?

P.AGE OO.4 — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 & NOBILITY : 交 ✦ ⏱

GN ! Reader — <3

this is probably gonna be long, who knows. i'm writing before i even started LMAO <3

edit; i dont like the way i wrote this idk,, maybe i'm getting a little self conscious of my writing and jdskkdkdkd i'm so sorry.. ;;

thank you sweetie, ilysm for requesting (๑´ ˘ `๑)

Running to safety hasn't always been your only option. Mostly because your friends encouraged you to carry weapons for your own safety, especially in these streets where you can competently get snatched, stabbed, mugged or any of the sort. In this era? Please. You think people could afford low quality security cameras, with a high price?

Weak hands trembled as you kept insisting that your time was not worth being spent on someone who was firm on the decision that you must simply travel with them to see the city's night scenery.

It's been at least 15 minutes at most with you trying to brush aside him or trying to speed walk out of the way, hoping he wouldn't go bother someone else but at least spare you the chance to get away.

Infuriating.

Fortunately, you were not the gullible sort. Whether you've encountered this for the first time, or you've experienced such shuddersome and nightmarish situations for god knows how long, it doesn't matter. None of this is fucking okay.

And you knew that.

Loathsome hands traced the outer space around your bare back, and much to your disgust, it was unbearable to not break their hand as of this second. You had to wait, just so you could still walk with said person and hopefully get the chance to outrun them when you see a nearby crowd flocking up to the nearest street.

' Come, I insist. '

' You've ain't got nothin' to worry 'bout. '

' Aren't you being stubborn? This is what I get for being a nice guy.. What's so bad 'bout someone tryna' treat you out? '

The same shit you'd hear time n' time again. It isn't always the easiest, especially when you'd think he'd carry a weapon on him just in case.

Think, be smart.

Ah, up just ahead, a crossroad catered towards the corner of your eye. Your head didn't turn around too quick, but you'd have seen the elderly couple steadily cross the walk just then. Following suit, a flock of crowds parked themselves up just ahead to watch the physical activities boarded up for their enjoyment.

Fuck.. Okay. Pace yourself.. Three, two, -

Before you knew it, you dashed immediately.

Wind blew and slashed against your face as you carried your burning legs as fast as you could. You didn't know what the hell this freak carried on him and you weren't planning on finding out either.

The crowd proved no use, as he could manoeuvre his way around, shouldering past people aggressively with the occasional loud grunt you can surely figure out that it etched from him.

Dammit, alright. It's fine. It's totally fucking fine, right? You couldn't tell where you were going. You crossed and turned at every corner, and just beyond your reach —..

Stood a man near the corner shop that sold the usual cigarettes and loaded beverages. Stuff that you'd only resort to having when your shift at work really sucked.

White to black hair, black sunglasses with a lavender shirt that had intricate patterns, but not interesting enough to pay too much attention to as of this time.

Please, for whatever God is out there. Offer you some strength. Fortunately, he was quick to stop you in your tracks by halting his hand in front of you, like how one would halt a nearby bus to indicate you're about to get on. However, he essentially demanded your entire body be impacted against his hand. Regardless, it made you panic in a hurry but your uneven breathing made it impossible to speak coherent sentences.

Pretty sure if you saw someone crying and running away like your life depended on it, wouldn't you stop by to help? Pavia was a mercenary, and a merciless one at that, but he wasn't entirely soulless.

' Now, where are you running off to in such a hurry? ' He had an accent. A lollipop stuck between his lips. What is it? Cherry? Strawberry?

Words. Just use words.

' Help, please.. Creep. Following. Behind me. ' Behind your uneven breaths, and horrid panting that caused a crack in the tone of your voice, he seemed to understand.

Or, somewhat get it. If it's anything staining this world, it's filth like this random person trying to inflict damage on innocent people like you who are just trying to get by their day. You look innocent to him. Exhausted, but innocent. Like a little lamb fleeing the slaughterhouse.

If it's one thing he hates, it's seeing the poor souls who resemble the innocence he once had. The chance that they could have to flee themselves from trauma, is the chance I believe Pavia would be willing to give. He must despise seeing the fear inside eyes that used to resemble his own when he was tucked away from the rest of society, forced to grumble under nothing but the deafening silence within the basement of his aunt's home after wailing out apologies and horrid voice cracks just to plead for his own freedom.

So. Seeing yours is no different.

Regardless, you do know the impact of you being outside.. especially during the evenings where it's dark and the sky turned into a murky ocean blue haze, gradients shifting darker by the hour and minute..

Gripping onto his shirt, your pleas to beg him to act as someone you might be familiar with, or perhaps even wear the stalker off with claiming that he is your temporary boyfriend, might strike something within Pavia..

Standing still, you rested yourself against his steady arm, holding you in place. Swiftly, he moved you against the wall, whispering a soft 'Then forgive me.' And yet, here were the thudding footsteps of your attacker. With a quiet look on your face, he stepped out of the shadow, amidst his hounds that surrounded his feet by seconds.

You couldn't believe it??

' Problem, amico? ' Resonated that voice of his, something to admire. Glistening under such beautiful moonlight, you could tell how the silver lining had outlined the steel plate of the metal cutting into the familiar shape of a pistol embedded within his pocket.. Huh- Shit— was he dangerous too? You only needed protection, not some bloodied out battle to settle for your freedom?? You're not looking to go to jail this early, anyways.

' I sincerely hope that you aren't getting aquatinted with my.. beloved? Huh? Lest I take that pretty little tie of yours to add into my collection. Divertente~ '

You didn't ask for his name, but your slender hands placed itself on his shoulder, still unable to catch your breath beneath these minutes that were unbearably silent to surpass.

Behind him, your body rested upon his, one hand eagerly coiled warmly against his waist like vines on a old pillar.

The stranger didn't wish to be aquatinted with you in any sort at first, but he was a playful hound of a man. With eyes that looked at you, then back at your stalker. Maybe talking with you a little more after this wouldn't hurt, right?

' You know, amico. ' He approached.

' There is something quite thrilling to have the echoes of thuds of dead bodies fall flat against the surface when you hear that deadly gunshot linger in the back of your head, huh.. You know, my boss tried the same thing. '

And yet, it feared him in some way. Your eyes replicated that of a lost puppy. Those puffy cheeks, reddened and exhausted from running ever so much, oh my.. Something sparked inside of him.

Compared to his gaze, that had his pupils dilated so small, it reflected insanity upon them. He whispered a quiet ; ' I suggest you surrender before it gets ugly? aha.. '

All it took—; was the slow movement of his slender, yet ringed hands to reach into his lower pocket-

And by the second.

They left. You heard grumbled apologies.. and shuffling. But that was mostly it.

The stranger dressed in purple didn't bother to turn to look back around at you to see if you're alright or not, but there was a smirk on his face. A smile on it that he could only turn his head to the side which he could witness your breathing slowly starting to become tolerable; that lollipop twirled itself around his fingers.

Maybe a factor of it played into it because he just saved you, but some part of you could tell a fraction of him enjoyed teasing you with his playful gaze. As if you knew what he were to already say.

The public here avoid trouble but when they see terrible news on the media, they flock together like birds to ready themselves into war. It's nearly impossible to fight against society's norms, but you suspect that's why nobody but him offered such help.

And you were lucky.

Seems like it won't be the only time you'd meet this stranger by the looks of it. He said nothing more than patting your shoulder softly, then moving back inside the building.

Pavia wouldn't be the best at trying to offer comfort but he knows better than anybody else on how events like these tend to fuck you over. The shit people put up with on a daily basis makes him want to spit on lowly people for even thinking they have the right to breathe the same air as you.

Pavia merely reached his hand towards your trembling figure. He seemed to contemplate whether it was a good choice to get to know you, but under these circumstances, that stalker could still be lingering about. What better to do than to have him offered to sit beside you until you feel safe to go on your own again.

After all, maybe it's the safest option..

And who knows? You'll become acquainted with this stranger soon enough with time.

[ask-postcrash-curly]

Okay, okay. Here we go. Gravity, wind, exosphere. Room, keys, moonlight.

...

Hey, uh... Curly. Kez again. I mean, Kestrel. Sorry to interrupt, uh, whatever it is going on here, I guess. I haven't been listening in that much, especially since it really felt like, uh, one of these other weird voices was coming onto me or something at one point...? I do have a girlfriend already... Anyway, uh, yeah. Like I've said before, my head's noisy enough as is, and you've got a lot of real assholes up here for some reason. So maybe I'm not sorry for interrupting. Unless I'm one of those assholes. Which, actually, is fine by me, because I might sound like an asshole in a few minutes here. Bear with me.

So, when Mom hasn't been gabbing with you, she's been trying to get me up to speed with... all of your stuff, I guess. The Tulpar situation at large. Gotta figure out something to relay to my professors, right? And Tabi, oof... Anyway, I can't quite say I really get the bigger picture as of yet, but, like... fuck, man. You don't need me to go repeating it all for you. Just... fuck.

Which brings me to what my actual point was:

Why in the hell should you be excited about a rescue coming?

I mean - don't get me wrong. You guys sound like you've been through... actual fucking hell up there. Really... insane shit. Wow. I'm glad you're getting out, I am. And you know Mom is just over the moon about it, too. She's already making plans about - oh, wait! Sorry, I wasn't supposed to say anything about that. Forget it. Anyway, obviously I'm not saying it's bad.

But, dude... you spent the last, what, almost six months in an actual torture nexus and you think you should be grateful...? For what, exactly? You shouldn't have had to BE in this mess in the first place. I would be pissed if I were you! God, I hate corporations. Destroying its people and the environment one dollar bill at a time, am I right? And that idiot Jimmy. Fuck him. Wait, no, sorry. Mom said he was your friend. And dead now. Shit! I didn't mean to say that. Oh my god, you're - you're losing your point here, Kez...! God dammit, this is so much easier to do with slides...

Yeah, uh, what I said. Honestly? Don't think you owe anybody shit. And I know Mom agrees with me, too. So. Yeah. You uh. Maybe listen to her about that, actually. Since she's your mom too, and all. Kinda.

Damn, that was... really embarrassing.

...

Oh, right, uh. You asked before. I'm twenty - but I'll be twenty-one in June! Finally old enough to drink! Don't uh, don't tell Mom, but I've actually already been out drinking before with Tabi and a couple of her friends. It was fun, but I really regretted it later on when--

[A scandalized gasp.] Kestrel Warbler!

Shit.

Hello. Would you rather I call you Kez or Kestrel? Whichever works for you. And hey, you don't need to apologize. Happy to hear from you. ...Huh. I'm not sure I caught that one. Hah! I sure do. And no, you're not "one of those assholes." You've yet to— Nope, don't need to go there.

Ah. Yeah. Not sure your professors will believe that. Or Tabi. But then again, you ended up believing it, so I suppose anything's possible, yeah? ...Yeah, "fuck" pretty much sums up these past months.

Sorry...?

Hah. Yeah. Actual fucking hell. Thanks— Plans...?

Something like that, yeah. Rescue's all we've been longing for since the crash, you know? (Well, at first I kinda wasn't, but— Nevermind.) And now that it's supposedly approaching, I just... Yeah no you're right. Pony Express was shit. I was thinking of finally quitting after this trip. But, well, we got fired and then I got set on fire, so we're past that. No, uh... Emphasis on the was there. We... haven't been friends for a long while. It's complicated. I'm not sure how I feel about him being gone, but you've got a point there. Fuck him. (See? I can say that.)

Well... Thank you for that, Kestrel. I'll do my best.

(Psst. I can hear you still. Nothing to be embarrassed for, mate.)

Hey, at least it's not mouthwash, yeah?

Wait, twenty plus twenty is—

Oh. I... might've made some mistakes here...

[sanddef]

Interlude | May as Rebirth

1100 words

It was almost May in Camelot, the weather was warming and the ebbs of wind were just beginning to cease. Flowers were blooming by the creek, water lilies, and daffodillies, and Mordred sucked a drop of blood from his finger. He placed the roses he picked onto a nearby grave, and kept walking. It was bizarre, mourning those he knew would hate that attention. Mordred could almost see Gaheris’ grimace, Gareth’s wet eyes, Agravaine’s empty stare.

‘They said your name a million times at the wake.’ Mordred told him, ‘Isn’t that what you always wanted? To be celebrated? You should have seen how the king held you. You’d think you were his very own son.’

Of course, Agravain didn’t respond. He didn’t snark, didn’t even humor him. He never will again.

‘Well fuck you too.’

It was almost May in Camelot, and the staff usually would be making preparations in a few weeks. Between May Day and birthdays to celebrate (though never Mordred’s, admitting the date of his birth only ever got him sympathetic looks and hard-to-answer questions) it seemed May was one big celebration. Of course, to any common knight, any of these supposed holidays were just pretense. Who gave a shit about Gawain’s birthday other than people trying to curry favor? By the end, knights could hardly tell you the day of the week if they were even sober enough to speak. The staff would be exhausted.

Mordred stopped walking, shook his head, and continued. He quickly steered his thoughts away from Gareth. Gareth, who always got him something for his birthday, despite Mordred’s wishes. He was utterly gone by May 31st last year, somewhere between the busyness and the merriment he had forgotten, or just forgone, moderation. Mordred had simply put him to bed, leaving quickly and letting his gentlest brother forget that he had borne witness to his momentary degeneration.

‘I knew no one could be perfect.’ He told no one at all. ‘You’ve always told me that.’

It was always about Gawain, but still.

Almost May in Camelot and where were all the people? The hall seemed empty, only a few straggling knights and servants. Lucan didn’t meet his eyes when Mordred waved him over, his face neutral and steady, he poured him a cup of wine. Mordred considered dropping the chalice, let him not react then, as wine spilled across the floor and over them both, let him wash out some red stains of his own. At least he still had his brother with him.

Gawain would be coming back soon.

‘God dammit.’

Mordred took another long drink.

He didn't remember Lot's death, being much too young at the time, but his brothers spoke about him like he hung the moon and stars.

“Don't be like that, Mordred.” Gaheris had told him one night, his gaze tracing the scar on Mordred's forehead, “He went to war for you.”

Mordred was harsh, he knew he was harsh, and he didn’t need everyone telling him all the time. In his opinion, he couldn’t be the worst of his brothers, how could he? Yes, their deeds far surpassed his own, but so did many of the ones they swept under the rug, overlooked, or wore as a public confessional if they were clever enough. Besides, Gaheris had funny ideas about a parent's love. Mordred had to discount his opinion long ago. Mother's death was regrettable, but Mordred followed everyone's example and moved forward swiftly. Why waste time thinking about something so unpleasant?

“Why waste time indeed,” Mordred muttered, leaning back on his throne.

“Ah, my lord?” Sir Brunor was looking uncharacteristically nervous, “Mordred?”

“I didn't hear you enter.”

I didn't invite you in.

“I just want to offer my condolences.” Brunor sat beside him, again uninvited, “I know it's hard. Losing Sir Galahad and then your brothers and the king.”

Mordred grunted, gesturing for Lucan to refill his cup. Why even bring up Galahad? It felt like eons since he had last seen that poor doomed youth. He had died, apparently wondrously and prettily. Holy. They used much nicer words for it than ‘easily.’ Mordred had imagined it dozens of times, his final breath of earthly oxygen as his hands grasped for what he had chosen above all else. All that effort in blocking Galahad out of his mind, and Brunor had to remind him.

“My father is dead. My brother too.” Brunor took Mordred's hand in his, “I know how it feels.”

“These things happen.”

“Doesn't mean we can't avenge them.” There was that cold fire in his eyes that got Mordred's attention when Brunor had first arrived at Camelot, “You know that. It was murder.”

“Yes. Yes, if I learn anything you'll be the first to know.” Mordred tilted his head upwards, examining the higher stonework of the walls, stone put in place only decades ago yet never touched by human hands. He was starting to feel dizzy when he moved too fast. “For now I need your service, Brunor. We’re at war.”

And where would Mordred be without his supporters? If there was one thing he was glad to have learned at this farce of a court, it was how to perform.

“Yes of course.” Brunor straightened, “There’s a fleet coming from the south. Just say the word.”

“From France?”

“We think so.”

“You know so. We can’t afford to allow enemies any closer.” He especially can’t afford for it to be Arthur. Mordred was confident that even if he did return, there were enough people on the court on his side to end the battle early. He hadn’t done the exact math yet, but even a handful of kings had plenty of men at their disposal. Even so, it would be simpler if Arthur just didn’t come back.

“Shall I prepare an offensive?”

“A man after my own heart.” Mordred smiled, crooked two fingers, and beckoned him forward, “Come here, Brunor.”

He didn’t miss Brunor’s sigh of relief as he kneeled before the throne and accepted Mordred’s kiss gratefully. He really was such a good marshal, fearing him just enough. He was a good friend too, when Mordred still considered himself worthy of such privileges. At least the loyalty remained.

Keep him close in hand and he’ll never learn what happened to Dinadan.

‘I should really get married.’

Mordred knew just the person, but for now, Brunor was set to sail for battle tomorrow and Mordred might as well give him a few more hours of his time.

Hopefully, Gawain and Arthur were already dead. If they weren’t, Mordred prayed they’d die easily.

[lizavet]

@heropartnerweek - Day 6: Farewell | Return

Poppy refused to lose them again.

She didn’t care what anyone said. She didn’t care if Dedenne said she was projecting and being unfair to Mew. She didn’t care that Mawille said her attachment was unhealthy. And she sure as hell didn’t care that some dirtbag said Mew had to die for the sake of the world.

She was NOT losing Tuft again.

It didn’t matter that Mew wasn’t Tuft. They were the closest thing she had. They were the last, dying ember of a beautiful bonfire, the one thing that kept Poppy warm at night. The final link she had to Tuft, aside from her harmony scarf. Maybe it wasn’t fair to them, but Poppy couldn’t help it! Mew reminded her so much of Tuft that it hurt. She chose to suffer that pain every day if it meant she could feel just a bit of Tuft’s warmth.

And now, someone wanted to take that away from her.

Poppy smashed her fist into a Salamance’s maw, sending it flinching back, ignoring the memories of that horrid mission they took on so long ago, and ran past it. She wasn’t in the mood to brawl with every random feral she came across. She didn’t have time. Every single one that got in her way took a fist or tail to the face, then Poppy sprinted past them, running as fast as she could through the winding floors of the Purifying Cave.

She barely took in her surroundings, the sound of static and pumping blood mixing to fill her ears with a horrid screech and squelch that drowned out everything else. The walls blurred around her as she ran, ignoring everything and everymon she passed by, her eyes only scanning for the stairs leading further down. The stones and gravel beneath her feet felt like nothing, her feet and hands numb as she ran on all fours, desperately hoping for just a bit of extra speed.

She had to go faster. She had to. Tuft Mew was in danger! They could be dying right then for all she knew! Or having her soul ‘purified’ or whatever the hell that meant. It didn’t matter! They were in danger and she had to save them. She couldn’t lose them again. She couldn’t grieve them a second time!

It went on and on.

Run.

Fight.

Search.

Descend.

Run.

Fight.

Search.

Fight.

Descend.

Run.

Search.

Fight.

Fight.

Fight.

Descend.

Run.

Run.

Run.

RUN!

RUN!!!!

RUN FASTER DAMMIT!

The stairs lead down and down and down and down until-

Bright light flooded her vision. She reached the cave’s pit, a large open room, the aqua blue walls and floor and water contrasting harshly with the unconscious form floating in the centre of the room.

“TUFT!” Poppy screamed.

Mew floated lazily in the air, a sphere of pink psychic energy holding them aloft and sealing them tight. Their head lolled to the side, eyes closed, chest slowly moving up and down from their shaky breathing. They were hurt, they were hurt they were hurt they-

They were alive. She wasn’t too late.

Poppy ran toward them, but a zap down her spine warned her of danger, her battle instincts kicking in. She skid to a stop and rolled right, leaping out of the way of a Shadow Ball that exploded against the ground where she was.

‘That was too easy to dodge,’ she noted. ‘A warning shot.’

“Hol’ it!” a voice yelled. A familiar voice. “Don’t touch that there Mew!”

‘YOU!’

Poppy’s head snapped to the side to see Nuzleaf coming out from his hiding space behind a boulder, flanked on both sides by those god damned Beheeyem. The group moved in front of Tuft Mew, standing between them and Poppy.

Her breathing grew heavy as rage coursed through every fibre of her being, Poppy glared at Nuzleaf as hard as she could, feeling her entire body tense. Nuzleaf shrank under her gaze. Good. He deserved to fear her. If he was the one who attacked her, who sent that letter, who was trying t- to…

…he deserved what he had coming to him.

“Get out of my way,” she seethed. Nuzleaf and the Beheeyem stared back, making her lungs burn even more. “MOVE!”

“…‘fraid I can’t well do that,” Nuzleaf said, shaking his head. “I’m mighty sorry, kid. I know I caused you no end of trouble, but-”

“TROUBLE?” Poppy yelled. “TROUBLE? AFTER EVERYTHING YOU’VE DONE, YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST COME HERE AND SAY ‘Sorry for the trouble’ WHILE TRYING TO TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME!” Violet light filled her eyes, draconic fire flooding her throat, begging to be released. “SAVE IT! JUST GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!”

“I don’t want this either!” Nuzleaf yelled back. “But we gotta wipe out that Dark Matter once and fer all!”

“We can’t take it!” one of the Beheeyem cried, holding its head in its hands, tears in its eyes. “We can’t be taken by that thing again! We can’t!”

“I’m sorry, but we can’t risk it. We can’t go through that kinda pain again!”

The fire in her throat burned hotter, screaming pain filling her lungs. Pain? They didn’t know anything about pain. After all the hurt they caused, they didn’t get to complain about pain. Not when it was their fault. Not when they were trying to hurt her again!

‘It wasn’t their fault. They were victims too. They didn’t want this’

“I… said… MOVE!” Poppy demanded. “Get out of my way before I make you!”

“Child, please!” Nuzleaf begged. “You gotta understand! We can’t let Dark Matter return! This is for the greater good! The world needs us!”

“WELL WHAT ABOUT ME?” Poppy screamed, tears flying from her eyes as she whipped around. “WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I NEEDED YOU? WHERE WERE YOU WHEN THE WORLD TOOK TUFT AWAY FROM ME? WHEN I WAS ALONE? THE WORLD? TO HELL WITH THE WORLD! WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I NEEDED MY DAD!”

Every word she said opened up an old wound, picking at the scabbed over cuts and gashes, making each and every one raw and bloody. Her scales looked red and broken behind her tear-blurred gaze.

Nuzleaf’s eyes were wide as he stared at Poppy, the leaf on his head wilting. “I-” he croaked. “I didn’t- I thought you- why would-”

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! JUST MOVE! GET OUT OF MY WAY BEFORE-”

A speck of light floated from Mew’s chest.

Poppy’s burning blood suddenly went cold as she watched Tuft Mew’s form begin to shine, bright light glowing underneath their skin, motes of light shedding off of them and dancing into the air.

They were dying.

“NO!” Poppy screamed, running forward recklessly. She had to go! She had to get to them. Nuzleaf dashed in front of her, grabbing her by the chest and shoulder, holding her back. She thrashed in his hold, her mind filled with screaming static as she desperately tried to get him off her. “LET ME GO! PLEASE, LET ME GO LET ME GO! I HAVE TO-”

“I’m sorry, but it gotta be this way!” Nuzleaf yelled pleadingly into her ear. “It’s gotta end! You just gon have to accept this!”

Accept this? Like hell she would! She wouldn’t, couldn’t! Not now, not ever! She let Tuft go once, she wasn’t going to do it again! She fought harder against his grip, the screaming in her mind growing louder and louder as Mew’s form started to glow brighter-

-Tuft’s form started to glow brighter, lifting them off the ground and into the air, a sad smile on their face-

-the teal light taking over more and more of them form, blotting them out-

-Tuft floated up and up, out of Poppy’s reach. She screamed for them to come back, but they just went higher and higher up, the smile never leaving their face-

“Please Poppy! You just gotta let this go! I promise it’s gon be okay! It-”

“-It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I always am!”

“-you don’t want this, an’ I know I don’t deserve it, but you gotta do me this one favour and-”

“-don’t you cry! Not one tear! Not for me! I promise, it’ll-”

“-be okay! But you just gotta let-”

“NO!”

Poppy grabbed Nuzleaf by the throat and JAMMED her knee into his gut, forcing a painful wheeze from his lips. He crumpled underneath her, Poppy running towards Tuft Mew the second she was free. The Beheeyem moved to intercept, psychic energy gripping at Poppy’s limbs, but the second she felt it she released a Draconic Breath from her maw, flooding the cavern and forcing the Beheeyem back, breaking their concentration.

She stopped in front of Mew, grabbing the sphere that held them in place and bashing her fists against it, slamming down as hard as she could. Mew’s form glowed brighter and brighter, and with every mote of light that left their body, Poppy fought harder to break through.

“I WON’T!” she screamed. “I WON’T LET YOU TAKE THEM FROM ME AGAIN! I DON’T CARE IF THE WORLD BURNS! I DON’T CARE IF DARK MATTER COMES BACK! IF IT DOES, I’LL JUST BEAT IT AGAIN!”

A warmth fluttered in Poppy’s chest.

“I WON’T LET YOU TAKE TUFT AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!”

Rainbow light danced across her harmony scarf.

“I WON’T EVER LET THEM GO!”

The sphere shattered in her grip as her harmony scarf ignited, the fabric burning away in a rainbow of fire, the explosion sending Poppy hurtling back into Nuzleaf’s waiting arms, the force nearly sending the both of them to the floor. She ripped her eyes open, gaze immediately snapping back to Mew to see the motes of light dancing around them stop… hold for a moment…

..before shooting back into them, rebuilding their body, putting it back together.

And as life returned to them, the rainbow shine of the burning harmony scarf was mirrored in Mew’s chest, a new light filling the air. A single, golden mote escaped from their heart, slowly drifting through the air towards Poppy’s burning scarf. And as they touched, the rainbow flames turned gold in an instant, exploding in light. Poppy’s eyes were forced shut, their vision swimming as they tried to open them again, desperately looking around the blurred and spinning room, trying to find Mew, to see they were okay, to see them alive. But when the room finally came into focus, she didn’t just see Mew. She saw…

…Tuft. The real Tuft. Not Mew, the pokemon that was forced to fill the void in her heart, but honest to god Tuft, the stupid, stupid, selfish, annoying, infuriating, beautiful Fenniken. They were just as Poppy remembered them, their fur unkempt and fluffy and filled with a random assortment of twigs and leaves, their stupidly big ears flopping around and covering half their face, a smile on their face despite their closed eyes.

They were back.

“Wha-” Poppy muttered, the words dying on her tongue. Her mouth felt dry, ragged breaths clawing at her throat, trying to escape. She didn’t dare blink, couldn’t close her eyes for a second, because if she did she’d realize this was a dream, that it was fake, that Tuft was still gone. She needed this moment to last just a little longer, needed Tuft to still be there, needed-

“So that’s Tuft.”

A pink paw lightly traced Tuft’s face, running through their fur. Mew was awake, floating gently next to Tuft, eyes taking in their form (as everyone should always do). They had a strangely peaceful look on their face, one that… didn’t remind Poppy of Tuft. Everything about the way Mew was holding themself was wrong. It wasn’t Tuft. It was so different to before.

“I was wondering who it was,” Mew continued. “I felt them, you know? I could feel that bit of their soul in mine. It was so strong, so overpowering.” Mew laughed lightly, shaking their head, a silly grin on their face. “They can be very… persistent, you know?”

Poppy couldn’t help but laugh along in disbelief. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Her laughs turned to choked coughs and cries. “H-how…”

“Well, it seems that your plan worked, Xatu.”

Despite a part of her screaming not to look away, Poppy managed to tear her eyes away just enough that she could see the approaching figures out of the corner of her eye, unable to understand what she was seeing.

“Ampharos?” she muttered. “A-and… Mawile, and Xatu? What are…”

Ampharos sighed, looking down at Poppy guiltily. “I’m very sorry for the pain,” he said gently. “I’m afraid that all of this was a bit of a setup to bring you here.”

“What?”

Xatu stepped forward, holding a wing out with practised grace, his eyes glowing with psychic power. “I saw it,” he boomed, his commanding voice filling the room. “I saw Tuft, sealed within Mew, waiting to be freed. I saw Mew’s collapse, and I knew it had nothing to do with Dark Matter. I saw it all.”

Poppy looked between them in confusion. “Then why…”

“Because to break the barrier,” Mawile explained, “we needed you. We needed your true feelings to shine. Your connection to Tuft was the only thing powerful enough to break through to them.” She gestured to the room around them, looking in circles. “We knew that here, on this sacred ground, the seal holding Tuft back could be released.”

“But your feelings needed to be true,” Ampharos continued. “We needed them to be real. We needed you to show everything.” He paused, looking away and anxiously rubbing the back of his neck. “And, well… you, uh… you’re-”

“You would never dare show your feelings without us forcing your hand,” Mawile said simply and without any guilt, shrugging her shoulders. Ampharos shrank down a bit more, chuckling humourlessly.

“Yes, that.”

Poppy could barely understand what she was hearing. All of this… was just a trick to get her to say how she felt? Because if she screamed it loud enough, Tuft would come back? Was that really all it took? Could she have done this from the start? Could she have brought them home months ago if she had just been true?

“Of course, we couldn’t do this on our own,” Ampharos said, snapping Poppy out of her spiralling thoughts. “Which is why it’s so lucky that Nuzleaf and his companions came along.”

Poppy’s head snapped up to Nuzleaf who was still holding her, surprised to see a gentle, loving smile on his face. For the first time in what felt like centuries, he looked like the man she knew. The one she thought she knew.

…maybe it was the real him. Maybe she did know him after all.

“Was a mighty fine coincidence,” Nuzleaf said. “We been lookin’ fer a way to make up for all the trouble we done caused. And whad’ya know, it just so happened that yer friends here needed someone to play the part of a villain.” He chuckled to himself. “Fortunately, I had some mighty fine practice.”

…he helped them? He… helped save Tuft… for her…

“Though… I could’a done without the walloping I got for it…”

Mew giggled into their palm, spinning in the air. “Yeah, sorry about that!” they chirped, not sounding sorry at all. “But hey, you shouldn’t have tricked me into coming here if you didn’t wanna get booped!” Mew looked back down at Tuft and smiled. “But you know, I’m glad I came here. I think it was worth it.”

Everything started blurring around Poppy. She couldn’t believe this. This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t happening. They couldn’t take the heartbreak they’d feel when the dream ended. Everyone helping them, Nuzle- Dad coming back to her, Tuft…

It was too good to be true. She needed someone to pinch her. She needed someone to tell her this was real. She needed-

“Poppy?”

Poppy’s eyes immediately snapped over to Tuft, finding them staring back at her. She scrambled to get to them, Nuzleaf letting her go in an instant, dropping her to the ground as she crawled over to them, grabbing their head and placing it in her lap. She put a hand on their cheek, relishing in the light, familiar warmth coming from it, helping Tuft to look her in the eye.

“Tuft,” she breathed. “Y- you- your-”

“Hey, you.” Tuft smiled weakly for a moment, before their expression dropped, guilt in their eyes. “Poppy, I-” they started before letting out a yelp as Poppy dragged them into a hug, squeezing them as tight as she could.

“Shut up,” she demanded, her voice wavering from the tears in her eyes. “You… you are never allowed to leave me again. You’re mine, got it? You don’t get to leave me.”

Tuft tensed for one, eternal, agonizing moment, before quickly letting go, falling into Poppy’s embrace in a way that felt so right, like they were finally where they belonged. “Okay,” they whispered, their breath hot on Poppy’s neck, sending lightning down her spine. She held them as close as she could, relishing in the feeling of their fur against her scales.

For the first time in months, everything was right in the world.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tuft (rightfully) assumed that all of this was Poppy’s way of confessing her feelings and figured they were dating. Poppy (being the emotionally constipated idiot that she is) didn’t realize it came out like that. The two figured it out eventually.

[strangedreamings]

S2E6 (spoilers abound)

Do we have to see Jaehaerys' body in the opening credits every week now?

Hi, Jason! Glad to see you're just as full of yourself as ever. He doesn't want to make a move without Aemond and Vhagar. Wow, and here I thought Tyland got all the brains.

"I am the Prince Regent, not a dog to be called to heel." Honey, you're both, and the sooner you can accept that, the happier all of us will be.

Ironrod suggests marrying Alicent to the Red Kraken (the current Lord Greyjoy). Dude, who do you think you are, Otto Hightower?

"The longer we wait, the more chance (Daemon) will prevail." No, no, keep waiting -- Alys and the curse of Harrenhal will drive him completely mad soon enough.

"My uncle is a challenge I welcome, if he dares to face me." I don't know how to break this to you, Aemond, but this crush of yours is not reciprocated.

Aemond fires Alicent from the Small Council and is a misogynistic dick about it. Alicent accuses him of still being angry about losing an eye. Honey, you're the one who wanted his nephew's eye taken in revenge, where did you think talk like that would lead?

Corlys wearing his Hand of the Queen pin. It looks good on you, dude.

Ah, the Sowing of the Dragonseeds. Rhaenyra's desperation for additional dragonriders is going to get a bunch of people killed or maimed.

The Small Council knows she is reaching and for fucking once, I agree with them. Maybe they'd take her seriously if she didn't sound like she was talking to her younger children.

Ser Steffon has so little Targ blood in him that it's not going to matter. Rhaenyra, this is such a dumb idea.

"Then perhaps the gods will favor us." Not unless the writers are going off-book (again).

Hi, Daemon. Which dead family member are you going to see tonight?

And he's back in the throne room, lovely. "The Heir for a Day" shit again? That must be really pressing on Daemon's conscience now that Viserys is dead.

Speaking of, hi, Viserys! Good to see you in (relative) health again. I hope HBO is paying all these cameo actors well, they all seem to be having a blast tormenting Daemon again (who looks truly devastated right now). HBO, you'd better be getting Matt's For Your Consideration campaign ready for next year's Emmys.

Ooo, a Rhea mention, even if we don't see her! I'll take it.

It's entirely possible that none of this is actually Alys or the curse's doing -- Daemon's conscience has more than enough fodder to torment him with. He hurt his brother, all three of his wives, and his daughters. It's about time all of that bothered him.

"...Stop watching me." And you still think you're fit to take KL by yourself? You're never leaving the Riverlands, Daemon.

"Daemon Targaryen asking for help?" "Counsel." He's losing his mind one night at a time but dammit, he's still got his wit.

"In three days' time, the winds will shift." Grover Tully is gonna die.

It's so dark in this cave that I can't tell which dragon that is. In the book, Steffon attempts to ride Seasmoke. Oh, it is Seasmoke. Thank God somebody said his name because he looks nearly black in the darkness.

"Do not show fear." Too late, Steffon is freaking the fuck out.

Just burn/eat him already, the tension is driving me nuts.

Is that dragontamer seriously just holding a long stick? Against a giant fire-breathing flying reptile?

Finally! Holy shit, that took FOREVER.

The Hull brothers are so goddamn hot. But don't think I didn't notice, Ryan, that the first person we see after Seasmoke's little barbecue is Addam. :P

So, is this madam TRYING to start a rebellion or what? "And his rightful heir denied her seat." Yep, she's trying.

"You have forgotten to fear me." You're going to have to do more than slap him, Rhaenyra.

Oh, the madam is working for Mysaria, got it. This really could work.

"This becomes you." Yeah, a sword in her hand so she can actually do her own fighting. Too bad nobody taught her how to use it.

Didn't the French Revolution start because of a famine? The smallfolk don't care who's on the throne as long as their bellies are full.

Oh Dear God, Otto as Hand to Aemond? Well, at least those Small Council meetings won't be boring.

Aemond's going to smother Aegon II with a pillow, I just know it. Aegon whimpers when he sees Aemond and you can't blame him. TGC is killing it with the agony, he needs a For Your Consideration campaign too.

"I remember nothing." I don't believe you and, unfortunately, Aemond doesn't either.

Rhaena and Joffrey come across a scorched area but they're in the Vale, who could've done that? Now she's in Aegon III and Viserys II's nursery with the boys and a baby dragon that I assume is Aegon's Stormcloud. Cute little dragon.

"You hate it here." Jeyne, you're not doing a damn thing to change her mind.

"Wild." So, are we talking Grey Ghost, the Cannibal, or Sheepstealer? Fuck, I guess this means the Rhaena-Nettles fusion rumor is true, if the wild dragon is Sheepstealer.

Rhaenyra is sending care packages to the people of KL. I fucking LOVE this!

Dammit, I don't want to like Gwayne Hightower but the actor has been making that fucking difficult. "He's kind." The delivery of that, you can tell Gwayne knows that's what Alicent wants to hear.

Rioting in the streets over Rhaenyra's care packages. Okay, maybe this was a bad idea, but it's certainly sowing rebellion.

Larys was born at Harrenhal? That explains SO MUCH. Him aligning himself with Aegon II is interesting and he's right, Aemond wants to kill his brother. Let's see where this goes.

Daemon's vision again. Looks like Aemma's death, great. I truly think Daemon loved Viserys, he was just too self-centered to express that love properly.

"Lord Grover is dead." Called it! Oh, Alys absolutely fucking killed him.

Addam and Seasmoke. Seasmoke misses Laenor and he can presumably tell that Addam is Laenor's kinsman (half-brother).

Is Seasmoke LAUGHING at Addam?

Holy fucking shit, I did not appreciate that jump scare!

Mysaria's backstory is fucking dark, even for GRRM.

Well, this is a ship I never thought I'd see on this show. I don't ship it but I'm sure there are fans out there who are absolutely thrilled right now.

Rhaenyra on Syrax, there's something we haven't seen in a while.

They're ending the episode there? We know it's Addam on Seasmoke, this isn't exactly news to the audience. Bah.

Preview for next week. "With these dragons, peace will be restored." *laughs from having read "Fire and Blood"* And they call Helaena a Dreamer.

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Hey love! Hope you're having a great day! This is for the Oc couples ask game!

For Sarah Mason/Alex Mason (you know I love the masons hahaha) and Jodie/Woods (my favourite couple of yours!)

23, 40, 49

Hope you have a great day love! No pressure! 🧡🧡✨

Hello my dear!! It'll be a pleasure to answer these for ya!

Also yes, agreed, I have such a soft spot for the Masons and I got very happy that Frank and Jodie are your favourite couple of mine- put a smile on my face <3

Here we gooo!

Alex and Sarah Mason

23. who said 'I love you' first?

You know, I reckon it would have been Alex. Sarah would have held off, not wanting to rush headlong into her emotions because she's done that before and got burned and she really was smitten with him.

Part of her was like 'if I come on too strong, say I love you too quickly, it might scare him off and I don't want to do that because he's literally asdfghhjkl oh my god I am so in love him aaaaaaa'

But the shock on her face when he says it first, so naturally, like it was meant to be said to her, by him, like the stars aligned- DAMMIT. Yeah. He said it first and he meant it.

40. what is a song that reminds you of the OC's relationship?

cw: mention of death

(Don't Fear) The Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult

Unfortunately, this couple's ends aren't great and death is deeply ingrained in their narrative - but this song is about embracing death because there is love waiting for you, just trust the process and you'll end up with those you belong with (or at least... that's what I get from it).

Like, it's a bittersweet song that reminds me of them - it's hard to explain the exact reasons why, other than just the vibe.

There's also another-

Where's My Love - Alternate Version by SYML

Again, it's sad... but their story is sad (despite the good bits yk?)

This song kinda reminds me of Alex and his feeling towards Sarah, especially when he loses her. Then... obviously with how Alex's story ends these lyrics hit me particularly 'if you bleed, I bleed the same, if you're scared, I'm on my way'.

I apologise in advance for the sadness.

I REALLY WISH I HAD HAPPY SONGS I ASSOCIATE WITH THIS COUPLE but apparently I'm a sad lil Goose. honks sadly.

49. Is there a word or gesture that makes either of them melt?

Ha ok, right- any. WAIT. No, I mean- OK BEAR WITH ME, I'm writing exactly how my thought process is working.

Any gesture will have Sarah melting - she enjoys PDA and she enjoys whenever Alex is touchy-feely with her. Hugs from behind, holding her hand, hand on her waist/lower back as he's moving behind her. If his hands are on her, she will melt.

For Alex? Whenever she cups his face in her hands. That has that man like putty in her hands and he is weak. It's also very grounding for him and it's associated with a lot of comfort for him.

Frank and Jodie

23. who said 'I love you' first?

Frank. I have a feeling that it's going to be blurted out in their first argument (this has been vaguely planned). I'm still figuring out the nuances of that argument and where exactly it takes place in their narrative, but yeah, it's that trope of 'why would you do that?' 'Because I lo-.... because.. I love you.. dammit.'

Cut to Jodie trying her best not to cry. Silently nods thinking to herself, 'how fucking dare you take the wind out of my sails with that sentence now I can't be mad at you and all I want to do is kiss you- UGH stupid handsome man-'

Yeah, I love these two. Why does writing take so long *sobs*

40. what is a song that reminds you of the OC's relationship?

Oh boy. Well, let's just say that I have a playlist for their 'canon' universe and then one for the pirate au and then one for the terminator au-

What I'm saying is there are a lot of songs and I found it difficult to find just one and also I have like... three versions of their ship floating around inside my head rent free lmao. But, these are two songs I tend to associate across the board with them.

Can I by Tedy

Simple, really, the lyrics are about someone asking if they can be vulnerable, if they can love and trust the other person. Literally the epitome of Jodie in the relationship.

But also,

I Was Made For Lovin' You by KISS

It's a feel good song, has cheeky vibes and I love it - I can't tell you when I started associating this song with them but... yeah, it's a good one and I can only think of them.

49. Is there a word or gesture that makes either of them melt?

When Jodie calls Frank 'darling'. She doesn't say it often, but damn, when she does he's gooey inside. And it's never just 'darling' it will always be 'Frank, darling'.

When Frank hugs her. She just melts. Like, not only because it's affection, but Frank's hugs can cure disease, Jodie is certain of it.

OH- a little spicy, maybe? But whenever Frank hugs Jodie from behind, slinking his arms around her waist and pulls her to him, he'll plant a kiss on her neck. He'll do it on purpose 'cause he knows how that simple gesture both causes her to fuckin' turn into a puddle. In more ways than one. Yeah... if he wanted bedroom eyes, then that's one way to achieve them.

If they were to have a tiff, that's a tactic he'll use to say sorry, too. All animosity would leave her body the second he does it lmao. Girl down bad and I don't blame her damn.

[no-future-mudwasps]

Local_Storage_Only: “Flew”

This is a stupid idea, Marty.

Probably.

I really wish you’d left me in for this.

What if we crashed, though?

[picture resolves. Marten Antheo, appearing in late 20s, stands on a rocky outcropping overlooking a deep fissure roughly 10m in width. Locale difficult to determine, but clearly a habitable planet due to lack of hardsuit. At edge of picture stands a decently modified HA Gilgamesh, cockpit open.]

What if you crash?

One of us can bend at the joints, Nofie. It’s not you. Besides, sense data should be transmitting, right? You’ll be right there with me as I go!

[picture cuts mid-sentence to briefly display video output thru chassis before returning; this reveals the fissure to be quite deep, with avian fauna moving above a heavy canopy.]

That’s the last thing I’m concerned about. If I have to call one of the others to drag you back out—

—Then get Agwe, they’ll bamf me up.

…I’m not confident.

Noted.

[Marten boards the Gilgamesh; picture returns to external view as start-up sequence initiates.]

I promise you, this is going to be worth it. Just hang on, okay?

I won’t leave you.

[Start-up completes; chassis mimics pilot flexion in arms, begins to back up from the ledge. Heavy, quick breathing can be heard from cockpit, hyping himself up… And the chassis runs forwards, leaping off the edge.]

[For a moment, there’s only the fall and the wind. A brief targeting UI flashes onscreen as chassis extends its arm and fires a grapple head at the crevasse wall, and then suddenly their view is swinging forwards, and up. Marten whoops with excitement, and approaching the apex of the swing detaches the line.]

[A green and gold world can be seen below as he makes it over the rock. The mech flies, and there is a deep, fundamental laughter.]

Holy shit.

[There’s another fall, and another swing and rise, and again and again. Marten quiets at some point, either from G-strain or simply at peace. Again… again…]

[A particularly low swing overtaxes the line. Grapple head detonates 20m down as failsafe, severing the cord just as the downward arc evens out. Marten yells.]

FUCK!

Marty!

[The next several seconds are blurred and green as the chassis crashes down through canopy. Sounds of rapid armor ablation and exoframe detachment can be heard.]

[When a clear view returns, the mech is rolled in the forest beneath, unmoving. Multiple limbs have been detached.]

Marten? Marten, status! …On the god-head, if you don’t get up—

[Someone just about coughs up a lung.]

I’m okay! I’m okay. I’m… okay. Fuck.

You’re not transmitting vitals, what’s going on? I can get help.

I’m fine! Mild concussion— probably— think I broke something? Interior frame held, I let the exosuit take the impact. Lost both arms— the Gil, not me.

Dammit, you scared me.

Yeah! I scared me too, oh my god. I’m— gimme a second, putting her back together.

[the camera picks itself up as the chassis is righted, replacing limbs and systems.]

Okay, spare left arm’s fucked but we’ve got another hauling line. I can rappel back up no problem, just… Gotta catch my breath. Hoo.

Be careful on the way up, OK? No more FABI-ass tricks or I’m telling.

Yeah, textbook. Got it. Leave my pride intact, Nofie.

Long as you leave my pilot in one piece.

. . .

It was amazing.

Yeah. Yeah.

Thank you.

Wouldn’t have gone without you, man. Love ya. Thanks for trusting me.

Said I wouldn’t let you go.

[cutekittenlady]

Tumblr Plays Pokemon White 2 - Part 5

I just need one.

Just to steady my nerves.

JUST. ONE.

GLUG

GLUG

GLUG

Ohhhh thats the good stuff.

Okay Polly. You can do this. Just walk out on that soundstage. And, i dunno, act?

Dear lord this is like third grade talen show all over again. Only this time I don't have Hugh to dig the hole.

......

The filming... actually turned out okay? It was pretty standard fare hero schlock but ah well.

And hey, i actually have a fan!

Hmmm this is going straight into my veins.

Dont tell my mom.

Your lucky I've had my lemonade hit today old man.

Welp. Guess I'm a move star now.

hehe.

Oh shoot it's dark. Uhhh is Pop Roxie still running his boat? I did say I was gonna do all the gym matches so I kinda gotta go to Castelia right? Hnngh maybe I'll come back to do more films later?

At least after getting a set of wings or something to get here and back again in a jiffy.

I wind up running to the pier in the rain.

Okay Hugh I'm here, sorry I took so long. See there was this bald guy with a really unfotunate name and-

Whaaaats going on here?

What like.... like the terrorist group? I mean lets not jump the gun here Roxie. I mean just cause theyre dressed kinda funny doesn't mean we can just jump to conclusion. Besides even if they WERE Team Plasma they wouldn't just admit to it. Nobodys that-

... Wow okay so... you guys are like... actually that dumb then?

Look I- No I get you wanna make some big dramatic speech but I- Stop cutting me off you RUDE LITTLE-

Hugh, baby, do NOT cut the Polly off when shes speaking! You know what happened in third grade.

Anyway Hugh goes off on this whole hate filled speech about how much these guys suck. And I expected some kinda edgy response but instead.

Home slice. You were chased... by Lillipup? Dude I hit a Lillipup with a bike when I was, like, five and it was flattened like a pancake. Sure, I got banned from riding for, like, ten years but my point is that anyone who runs from a Lillipup, a Lillipup right?, has no right joining a terrorist organization.

God its the third grade all over again.

Hope you have a shovel Hugh.

Oh sweetie.

We're gonna bury you.

Plasma Grunt sent out a Patrat against Bentley and you can just tell that Bentley has a chip on his shoulder over the Gym battle because hes raring to go. Patrat starts with bide after Bentley wraps him up, after that I had Bentley use growth while Patrat stored energy. Next round Patrat releases the energy and Bentley hit him with vine whip. That combined with wrap gets the little rat int he red. Patrat manages to forestall hi defeat with detect but one return later and its over.

After defeating the Patrat Bentley learns Leaf Tornado.

The Plasma grunt and his buddies have enough sense to run off before we can really get going and run for their lives.

Its okay Hugh you didn't have a shovel anyway.

Uh... Pretty sure thats a YOU job? Your the gym leader here.

However Roxie gives me the HM for Cut before running off.

Well Hugh guess we have a free HM now soooooo

Deep inhale through nose

Yeah okay.

Your lucky were friends Hugh.

The things I do for friendship.

Thats what I DOING! GAWD

Look its not like we're even going to find them! If they're really in a terrorist cell theres no way they're just going to be standing out in the open like a jackass saying "Come and get me Polly"

.... Bentley.

Go loose buddy.

Hey look its a purrloin.

And now its dead.

Just like old times. Old times being, like, the day before yesterday. Or whatever.

Aaaand the Plasma grunt runs away.

Hugh get her!

I... you... She ran RIGHT PAST YOU!

YOU HAVE A PIG WHO BREATHES FIRE!

wHaT... i DONt.... THIS IF YOUR VENDETTA!

oh please do tell

Okay she said they have a boat. Castelia City has a port. Hmm Okay.

I... we were JUST there Hugh! We'd have been better off just waiting in Virbank for them to come back and then jumping out at them from behind a trash can! Or dragging them into an alley to get info or something!

Arceus Dammit Hugh! This is YOUR revenge quest! I'm just tagging along cause Prof. Juniper asked me to complete... the... pokedex....

You know what Hugh, you uh, you go on ahead. I have some stuff I gotta... take... care of....

Shit shit shit how many pokemon do I have to catch?!

Ran into a shaking bush and caught an audino on the way to the pokemon center. Shove THAT into the PC for now, what else....

Route 19... Route 19 gotta start with route 19. Habitat mode dont fail me now!

GOT IT!

YOU. IN BALL. NOW

DANGIT YOU ARE NOT GETTING IN THE BALL

ARIES GT OUT THERE AND PARALYZE THAT CRETIN!

YES

IN BALL

CAUGHT

MOVING ON

DAMMIT OF COURSE THE FIRST PURRLOIN I FIND HAS LIMBER

AAAAAAAHHHHH

[tangentsimmer]

"A Bumpy Arrival" (A Sims 4: Growing Together Story)

The clock on the dashboard read 2:27AM. It was officially Spooky Day, and the weather seemed fitting: cool, dark, rainy, and cloudy. Nora gripped the door handle to brace herself as Terrence sped down the winding roads towards the nearest hospital.

Nora's hand flew up to the side of her belly again, and this time she couldn't hold back the wail that escaped her. Terrence rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand while gripping the steering wheel with his other hand.

"We should've left the house earlier," he frowned, briefly catching a glance at his wife. Nora's face was contorted in pain as her contractions ebbed and flowed, a little too close for Terrence's comfort. He was counting each contraction at around 4-5 minutes apart upon leaving the house, but it was Nora who wanted to stall and wait a little longer.

Nora's pregnancy was high-risk, leaving both parents on edge all the time, especially Terrence. Any slight issue had to be addressed for his peace of mind--they've been to the hospital 3 times just this week for false labor pains. This time was different though, Terrence could tell. Nora's contractions were consistent, like clockwork, and now like 2-3 minutes apart. It looked like baby girl was making her arrival today.

At the moment, all Terrence could feel was panic. And guilt. Nora was in excruciating pain, and the hospital was still a good 20 minutes away. They should've left sooner, when he first suggested they leave. Hours ago.

"Noooo, it's fiiiiine!" Nora talked through her contraction pains. "We're....almost there-oh, GOD IT F%*KING HURTS!!!"

When Nora was pregnant with Sophia, Nora got an epidural, but she knew she was far too late for one this time. She thought she was managing the times between her contractions well enough. Nora stopped updating Terrence as much about the time between contractions; she was so sick of driving to the hospital just to be turned away. Nora knew this time she had waited too long, and part of her feared she might not even make it to the hospital. When was a good time to tell Terrence that?

It wasn't until he was speeding down a long stretch of straight road did Nora make the call. "Babe, you have to pull over. I can't make it, she's coming now."

"Nor, we're almost there-"

"Pull OVER! DAMMIT, PULL OVER! SHE'S COMING RIGHT NOW!!"

Terrence pulled over to the side of the road. He was out the car and to the other side before the car was in park. He pulled out his phone to call both emergency services and his in-laws, Jimmy and Serena. They were also concerned that Nora was waiting too long to go to the hospital, and assisted Terrence with nagging her to go.

While Terrence was on the phone, Nora continued her breathing exercises that she learned in her birthing classes. She fought back tears as she realized she was about to give birth in the car on the side of the highway. When Nora imagined this day, it was beautiful. She was in a hospital where it was safe and sterile, for one. But horror quickly replaced guilt when she pulled up her dress and felt down below...

Another wave of contractions. Agony. Nora sat back in her seat, wailing, and assumed a comfortable position. She had to push. Now. Terrence dropped his phone and froze as he realized what was happening.

"Honey, an ambulance is coming, let's just-"

Nora paid no mind to her husband. She reached down between her legs again as she cried out in agony, pushing with everything she could. Terrence came to and ran to assist, grabbing a blanket from Nora's go-bag in the backseat. Nora pushed again on the next contraction as Terrence gently pulled, and for a moment they were transported to the day they delivered Sophia together.

The sound of a loud, healthy newborn crying brought both parents back to, and just like that, she was here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"She's so beautiful. You're incredible, Nor." Terrence rubbed his wife's back.

Terrence and Nora sat by the incubator where they watched their baby. She was so tiny, and seemed even smaller under the tubes and lights. But she was here, and while she needed some time in the NICU for a couple of days, the doctors said she was going to be fine.

"She's incredible, isn't she?" Nora stared at her daughter in awe, marveling at her tiny beauty. All ten fingers and toes and just absolutely perfect. She lie sleeping under the lights, the only sounds in the room were the beeping and whirring of machines.

Nora was over the moon. Her family felt a little more complete. She's been wanting this for what seems like a very long time. And after her previous two miscarriages, it began to feel like she was never going to have this moment again.

Sure, this moment wasn't the most ideal, but a part of Nora felt incredibly powerful for how she handled her childbirth, as she should. Her doctors, nurses, midwives, and family were all impressed. Terrence decided not to wait for an ambulance after baby girl was born, so he continued to speed to the hospital while Nora held their baby in a blanket, umbilical cord still attached. When Nora arrived at the hospital, the car looked like it was part of a crime scene, the baby blanket ruined, and a lightheaded Nora from the blood loss. It was quick work from doctors and nurses that stabilized both Nora and baby.

"What a cutie!" A nurse came in to check on the charts. "Have we decided on a name yet?"

Nora and Terrence looked at each other, smiling somberly. They talked about names for a long time, never coming to an agreement, until recently. The passing of Nora's maternal grandparents, Bruno and Marguerite, really hurt the family. Nora was sure her Nana and Pops were going to see their second great grandchild. Her heart broke every time she realized they would never meet. But Nora's smile brightened as she looked back at the nurse.

"Wren Gray."

Wrens are Nora's favorite bird. They frequented her mother's garden growing up, and still do. Gray was the middle name of her Grandpa Bruno. "Wren Gray McAllen."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[acestories]

Arc 1; Chapter 1

In some ways the world hasn’t changed; Karens still scream at grocery store clerks for no reason, Douchebags think they own the roads, and the sun continues to rise every morning. But, it’s definitely changed; people fly through the air on their own, a car mechanic lifts the car he’s working on with his bare hand, and a thief outruns a squad of police cars.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. 2020 was terrible already, but as if that wasn’t enough, it had one last fucking piece of shit to throw in our faces. Christmas night, there was a violet star in the sky. By new years eve, it had become a sun. By new years day, a violet mist that brought with it plague, one with a 10% mortality rate, and the rich and powerful hid themselves away from it. As they always did.

But as it turned out, ⅕ of those who survived it got what could only be called Superpowers. And very few of the rich and powerful got Superpowers. The inevitable started to happen.

And where do I fit into all of this? Well, I'm the ñonbinary cat boy waiting for their take out to be ready. What? Just because I got Superpowers doesn't mean I don't want tacos. And these guys make a gochujang teriyaki sauce that is to die for. And I'm not gonna let some random ass fuck wad villain destroy this place, I can't recreate the sauce!

The villain (who I think called himself Syndrome or some shit like that, I can't remember) charged at me, fist raised high. I'm able to dodge at the last minute, the concrete street corner shattering as it took the blow, which when combined with my latest bruises, are enough to tell me that this guy has one of those god damn Escalating Strength powers in addition to the basic stuff.

Gotta take them out fast, before they start punching Blackholes or something. I think someone could do that.

The villain starts monologuing; ooooooh, his name is "Symptom." That's actually kinda cool I gotta admit. Regardless, thank fuck this guy is long winded. Or really into L.A.R.P.ing. Doesn't matter now though; I charge at him with the speed of a bullet and unleash a flurry of blows. After a few seconds of what sounds like a machine gun going off, he starts to fall backwards, a look of surprise on his big stupid, neck-bearded face.

Heh, I caught him Monologuing. Guess that makes me a sly cat instead of a sly dog. :D

Oh yeah, the cat parts. While only ⅕ of survivors got super powers, over half of survivors got "fantasy bits." I got turned into a cat boy, but I've seen people with other things. Someone I went to high-school with got turned into an Orc.

Oh, and these things aren't a package deal, but there is enough overlap that it's testing fate to make a cat girl angry. So the Boomer who's screaming and making threats at me for not saving his car is either really brave or really stupid. I'm betting on the latter.

CRACK!

Shit, wasn't paying attention! Mmm, that's gonna smart tomorrow. I stumble to stay standing, looking for who hit me. Dammit, my vision is still blurry.

POW!

Again, but from the other side. This time though, I'm able to recover faster, and I see a trail of dust kicked up by a wind. Great, a speedster.

Dick wads didn't just get standard stuff, they get to be stupid fast. Faster than even I can see. But, based on the fact that I didn't explode, safe to assume that they're not too much stronger than I. Probably not much tougher either.

I suppose I should explain myself, huh? So, almost every super is significantly stronger, tougher, and faster than they were before, with heightened senses to boot. Most can lift one end of a car. I'm one of the ones that can kill a building. We don't got any Supermans or Omnimans, but we got some guys who're way the fuck up there.

But after the basic stuff, lots of people also got other powers, some coming into them easier than others. Symptom from earlier got Escalating Strength, which makes him stronger the longer he fights, but not tougher or faster (no, I don't know how it works exactly). Our new friend is a Speedster, so they get to move at Mach speeds (or close to it).

But now that I know what to look for, I can look and hear for them. And with my Cat Ears, I'm really good at hearing them tear through the atmosphere. They might be faster than sound, but the air sure as shit isn't. As they come towards me, I fly 30 m (100 in freedom units) up into the air, the Speedster's momentum carrying them past where I was.

Yeah, I got flight. Which is also pretty common, and lots of people make it work. I can't. I can jump up to this high, and after that I can fall with style. If I try to actually fly, I become a hazard to everything around me. Aside from knowing you guys are there, the only other power I know I have is Laser Eyes. And the only time I've used that, I destroyed my bed and first print Power 9 mtg cards! Those are worth $165,100!

As I drift down, I can see the Speedster trying to get her bearings. Well, she's practically where I was, and I can make myself come down really fucking hard. Choosing occam's razor, I bring myself down to the ground. Hard. Hard enough that the Speedster is now a good couple inches in the pavement.

I stand up, keeping my foot down on her head. After a minute or so, I felt confident in assuming she was down. Long enough that I can try to tie her up for the cops. And tie up Symptom. And actual–

"Oh, thank you señior!" I turn around to see the old Latino lady who took my order running up to me. Before I can process this, she glomps me in a bear hug.

"Uh, you're welcome. If you don't mind me asking, what did I do?"

"You saved us." This time, I turn to the Old Japanese man who cooks in the kitchen walking up to me, but picking up a bag I hadn't realized the Speedster had dropped before also hugging me. "The fast one stole from us while you were busy. You're a true hero."

"I'm not a hero. I was only here for tacos."

From the face pressed into my chest came "No, you were the only one here, and you helped. That makes you a hero."

I tried to form a response, but a slight rustling brought my attention, not to the store, but to the hole in an apartment above it. To a family. Their family. Their grandchildren.

As what I just did begins to really sink in, a young teenager comes up to me carrying a bag of styrofoam boxes. "But I only ordered one thing of tacos…" is all I can say weakly.

"The rest is our thanks." The only response I can think of is tears.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Lost Cause prologue (part 2)

On October 7–8, I'm in Milan to keynote Wired Nextfest.

My next novel is The Lost Cause, out on November 14; it's a hopeful tale of the fights we'll face after we address the polycrisis. Bill McKibben called it "The first great YIMBY novel":

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause

As with my other books, I've had to produce my own audiobook for this one. Amazon won't carry any of my audio, so I make my own and pre-sell them through Kickstarter, along with ebooks and hardcovers (including signed, personalized hardcovers). The Kickstarter's going really well, and there's still time to back it:

http://lost-cause.org

Yesterday, I kicked off a serialization of the book's prologue, which jumps straight into the action:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/06/green-new-deal-fic/#the-first-generation-in-a-century-not-to-fear-the-future

And now, here's part two:

He was so surprised he fumbled the sledge, then squinted at me. I held the flash under my chin, squinting. “It’s me. Brooks. Palazzo. Richard’s grandson.”

That was when the siren blatted down on Verdugo, blatt blatt, two toots, and a crackle of PA. “On the roof, this is Burbank PD.” He did drop the sledge then, said, “Fuck,” and produced a water pistol from the suit’s marsupial pouch. He handled it with extreme care, shedding a glove to delicately peel away a big blob of some kind of plastic or wax over the business end. His hand shook.

I knew what it was. Hydrochloric acid. It was the weapon of choice for one-­on-­one white nationalist killings. It worked great, because even if you didn’t kill your victim, you’d leave them with skin melted and fused like cascades of melted rubber, a reminder to everyone who saw them that even if President Uwayni took away everyone’s guns, the American resistance was still armed and fucking dangerous. Gramps and his buddies would sometimes make jokes about Medicare for All, and how it was gonna go broke paying for acid burns when the big one came. I’d always found those jokes incredibly gross, but I learned to tune them out. They were coming back to me now. I took a step back and his hand jerked and I cried out, flinching in anticipation of the stream of acid that didn’t come.

“Dammit, boy, don’t scare me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to be hurt. Mr. Kennedy—­Mike—­you know my gramps. He relies on me. He’s getting old and frail. I’m all he has.”

I was crying now. A drop of clear liquid fell from the squirt gun’s business end and sizzled on the roof. I whimpered. “Please. Just put that down, we’ll go get the cops and—­”

“I’m not going anywhere. Listen, kid, turn off your camera, okay? I gotta say some things to you.”

“Mike, please—­” I was crying harder now. His hand was really shaking, and his finger was on the trigger, and the gun was pointed right at my face.

“Just do it, okay?” He pointed the gun at the ground, and I found I could breathe again. I pretended to turn off my screen and triggered the sound file I had of the “Recording paused” announcement.

“All right, kid. Straight talk. I don’t expect to survive this. I knew that was a chance from the start, and it was a sure thing once you got here and sounded the alarm. I made my peace with that possibility a long time ago.” He took some deep breaths that the voice-­ shifter made into the sound of a wind tunnel. He pulled the ghillie suit’s mask down and exposed the rest of his face. His lips and chin were shiny with wet sweat in the reflected flashlight beam bouncing up from the roof.

“God dammit, I’m not gonna kid you, this is a stupid thing to die over, but I was gonna die eventually. But you don’t have to. You can get out of this in one piece. You can carry on the struggle.” His real voice was hoarse with emotion.

Something about his real voice and his real face made me more scared, not less. Gramps’s friends were usually just . . . ​sour. But there was often this undercurrent of violence in them, a bowstring tension that sometimes snapped. Usually that just meant yelling or throwing something or storming out and slamming the door so hard the whole house shook. But every now and then, it turned into punches, and everyone in the room would pull the fighting men apart, and once or twice there had been blood on the floor before they were separated.

I had never been in a fight, not since grade school anyway, and had never thrown a real punch. I found the idea of punching someone literally unimaginable. But I was finding it incredibly easy to vividly imagine this guy punching me.

“Mike, you don’t have to die, we can talk to the cops. This is Burbank PD, not LAPD. They’ll negotiate. They’re not gonna shoot you. Not if you don’t give them a reason to. Why don’t you put down—­”

The roof was flooded with blinding light and the roar of a quadrotor as a BPD drone rose up over us, floodlights set to max. We both staggered back, hair blowing in the rotor wash, and squinted. Mike involuntarily squirted a small stream of acid that arced over the roof, then got his gun under control.

“THIS IS THE BURBANK POLICE DEPARTMENT. PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND LACE YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD. COMPLY IMMEDIATELY.”

He swore fiercely and pointed his gun at the drone.

“No!” I shouted. “Jesus, Mike, do you want to fucking die?”

He stared at me. His eyes were wild and unhinged. His mouth worked soundlessly, and then he shouted, “What the fuck does it matter to you?”

“Because—­” I almost said, Because I want to fight on your side and we need you. I could have sold the line, even though I didn’t believe it. Even though he was a terrorist kook whose cause was both idiotic and terrible. I could have sold it because I’m a good actor, even by Burbank standards, where the star of the school play might be moonlighting from their job as an A-­lister for one of the studios. But I didn’t say it. I didn’t want to lie to this guy. “Because there’s enough stupid death out there. Because I don’t want to explain to Gramps how I saw his poker buddy blown away by BPD on my high-­school roof. Because it’s a stupid way to die. Because it won’t accomplish a goddamned thing.” I found that I was angry. God, why did people have to be so stupid? Why was I sitting around with this idiotic person having this idiotic argument, waiting for the cops to storm the roof and maybe kill us both?

“Fuck this,” I said. I stalked over to him. The drone dipped toward us, making him flinch, and I was able to grab his stupid water pistol full of acid and wrench it out of his shaking hand and send it skittering over the smashed solar panels. “There,” I said, and turned to the drone. “I’ve disarmed this goddamned idiot. Don’t shoot him. And don’t shoot me—­I’m a bystander.”

The drone’s PA clicked back on. “That was really stupid, kid.”

Mike looked like he wanted to cry or punch me.

“This whole thing is really stupid,” I said. “But it doesn’t have to be violent, too.”

“We’re coming up. Lace your hands behind your head.”

Mike opened his mouth.

“Just do it,” I snapped. “I just saved your fucking life, asshole. Do what the nice policewoman says.”

They burst through the roof door a minute later, and we both laced our hands behind our heads. They cuffed and searched both of us, relieving Mike of a long hunting knife and what I took for hand grenades, but which turned out to be flashbangs.

After patting me down and conferring, they uncuffed me and led me away from Mike, who was looking miserable and scared.

They took a statement from me in the cruiser, tapped my ID to their scanner, conferred a while longer, read messages on their screens that I couldn’t see—­the cops all had polarizing privacy screens on their devices—­and finally let me go.

The cop who opened the back of the cruiser for me was a big, jowly guy, someone who would have looked perfectly at home with Gramps and his pals, rocking a red trucker cap and complaining about “illegals.” But he was tender with me as he helped me up and asked me twice if I needed help getting home. I pointed out that I lived a ten-­minute walk away—­he knew that from my ID, of course—­and that I hadn’t been hurt.

There had been six Burbank PD SUVs on the street when they led me down, but by the time they let me go, there were only two. The other one had Mike in the back, behind reflective windows. Even though I couldn’t see him, I could feel his eyes on me as I turned and started to walk home. It was 3:27 a.m., and I was both completely wired and completely exhausted.

I let myself into Gramps’s place by the back door, made my way back to my bedroom, stripped off, and pulled the covers over me.

Who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to sleep after that. I rolled over and hit my screen. I had a notification that my livestream had been archived and that I could toggle it private if I wanted to, but that it was also going to be subject to FOIA requests because I’d used the 911 option and it had gone straight to Burbank PD.

I reviewed the footage. It was crazy of course—­the dark night slashed with my flashlight beam, the screen’s night-­sight flicking off and on—­but the audio was good and once things stabilized, the image was clear enough. I jumped it up to 3X and listened to Mike Kennedy in chipmunk mode spouting his crazy Maga Club garbage. Even at that speed, I picked up on stuff I’d missed, little bits of inflection and vocab, and most of all, how scared he sounded. He’d been more scared than me. I guess that made sense, because he was so sure that he was going to die. Look at it that way, I had saved his life.

And as soon as I looked at it that way, I knew it was true. I had saved his life. I’d saved a man’s life the night before. A man who had been ready to kill me. Or if he hadn’t been, he’d said he was.

The realization let something loose inside me and I started to yawn. I pasted a link to the video into my feed and dialed the syndication wheel all the way open because why not, it was freaky and everyone shares freaky stuff wide as possible.

I tapped out a message to the Burroughs High attendance office letting them know I was going to be late for school, then I put my screen down, thumped my pillow, and, amazingly, fell asleep.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/07/met-cute-ugly/#part-ii

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!