#I do need to figure out colours across devices

[otherworldworldy]

[phantomrose96]

What the hell happens in the pikmin game?? Those little colourful bitches have been around for ages, but i never bothered looking them up, i just figured they were cute little mascots of some game. But your posts are making me question everything. Is it a horror game? (I know i could just google it, but asking you is funnier)

Yeah you're right asking me is much funnier :)

Pikmin is a fun and relaxing game! You play as a little astronaut man who gets to spend his days growing Pikmin, who are sweet and peaceful little plant creatures with leaves, buds, or flowers on their heads. You can corral them around with a little trumpet, like a bouquet of flowers following you through the pretty and whimsical landscapes of planet PNF-404 :)

Wait did I say fun and relaxing?

Sorry, typo.

It's a brutal skill-based survival game (❁´◡`❁)

So then maybe you're wondering, what's up with the Pikmin? What was that about growing a bunch of little flower guys? Well growing the Pikmin is super important!

It's super duper important mainly because you need to replace the Pikmin who die in the carnage of battle for you!

Battle against what?

Everything.

See on PNF-404, Pikmin are the bottom of the food chain. Just about every living breathing creature on this planet is orders of magnitude larger than the Pikmin and munch Pikmin by the hundreds for breakfast. Predators will do this instinctively. They will do this unprompted. They will do this while you're not looking. They will do this endlessly until every last Pikmin is dead.

So... what good are the Pikmin? What chance do they stand?

Really easy. Pikmin are the most violent creatures in the entire game 🥰🥰🥰.

How else do you survive when you're small and fragile other than incredible violence? Pikmin can exist out and about in swarms of up to 100. And the only way to survive predators as small little leaf creatures is to beat those predators to death with incredible mob violence before they can kill all of you.

Pikmin don't die like plants. They die like warriors.

And sometimes, this is the hardest mechanic to handle. Left to their own devices Pikmin will seek to shed blood. It's up to you to call them away from orchestrating their own demise, their own pursuit of the glory of Valhalla. It's in their nature. It's in their plant-blood.

And they go down hard. They shriek when snapped up in the jaws of predators. They glub and wail when drowning in water. They trill out screams when on fire. They choke and cough in poison. They die instantly to electricity. And you'll know a Pikmin is well and truly dead once it lets out a final whimper, and a ghost drifts away from where it once stood. This can happen by the dozens. This can happen to all 100 at once.

So wait, wait I've gotten far ahead of myself. Why the violence? Why the death? Why the fighting? What was that about a little astronaut man?

Well your astronaut man is Olimar, an honest and simple family man who's a freight ship captain from his home planet of Hocotate. He's a truck driver! He's just a guy taking his first vacation in years.

And a meteorite strikes his ship, tearing it to pieces as it crash-lands on a completely uncharted planet. Welcome to PNF-404...

And so you're Olimar. A truck driver. A nice dad. A victim of capitalism with the world's worst boss. Out on vacation.

Your ship is destroyed. No one is coming for you. No one will save you.

The oxygen on PNF-404 is poisonous.

You have 30 days before your life support system runs out.

You have 30 days until you die a brutal and lonely death.

Your only hope is to find every scattered missing piece of your ship--30 of them--strewn across the planet, return them to your ship, and repair it, before your 30 days are up.

But this is simply impossible. You're one tiny little man. You wouldn't be able to lift a single piece of your ship, let alone 30 of them, let alone doing so while fending off the wildlife hellbent on killing you.

But the Pikmin seem to like you...

So all that death? All the carnage and destruction? It's all in the effort to repair Olimar's ship before he suffocates. You pave a path of destruction decorated with the bodies of any creature that stands before you and your missing ship pieces.

The Pikmin do it. The Pikmin trust you. The Pikmin follow your command and die by your command. After all, you're growing their species. Oh did I forget to explain that part? The "how" of how growing Pikmin works?

Simple. Pikmin are grown from the corpses of the creatures they kill :).

If you kill something, the Pikmin take it back to their base and process it for pieces, and grow new Pikmin from it. That's how you get all the nice little flower creatures following you around. :)

Is it good enough? Can you sleep at night knowing that 50 creatures who trusted you implicitly were slaughtered under your misdirection? All to retrieve a hunk of metal which is 1/30 of the hope of getting you home alive? 100 slaughtered? 200? Day 30 is approaching. Things are looking bleak.

You're Olimar. Day 30 has arrived, and you haven't fully reconstructed your ship. You have no option to stay. Your life support has run out. You watch the Pikmin you've left behind, as you attempt to start up your ship which has not been safely repaired.

You try to take off, and try to make it home.

It does not go well.

But at least the Pikmin have another corpse to carry.

[hugmekenobi]

S3: The Bad Batch (1)

Chapter One: Confined

Gif by @ventresses

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Rating: 18+

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: Imprisoned on Tantiss, Omega finds herself needing to adjust to life there whilst the rest of you decide on your next mission to give you intel you desperately need.

Masterlist for S1 and S2

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Very mild canon-typical violence, one use of y/n, Hemlock, brief wound description, nightmares with emotional hurt/comfort, my interpretation of various people's headspaces, slight angst, me going off script/episode plot in the last part, and remember, italics represent silent Jedi communications

Word Count: 5K

Author's notes: And we're off! Happy Star Wars Day!! We are pretty much just following the plot of this episode, save for a bit at the end so it might feel like a bit of a slow start, but bear with me! Technically, this will also wind up being a 'fix-it' fic so just stick with me on that process too! Hope you enjoy! And I have already started working on the next chapter! Also, I am just going off my past taglist so anyone who wants added/removed, please let me know!

21 days since Eriadu

Water dripped from the faulty tap in the small cell as light crept through the bars on the window.

Omega stared out into the open space with a forlorn sigh as she envied the birds that sounded their freedom as they chirped their usual song. She stepped down from her bed and started pacing anxiously as she waited for Emerie to make her scheduled appearance.

Sure enough, a couple seconds later, the door opened, and Emerie stepped inside.

“Good morning, Omega. How are you feeling today?” Emerie asked.

“Like a prisoner.” Omega replied curtly. “I want to leave.”

“Prisoner?” Emerie repeated, surprised. “Omega, you are no such thing. It will take time to adjust, but you will acclimate. It is far safer in here than out there. Come. We have much to do.” With that Emerie turned to leave.

Omega reached under her bed and brought out her box before she followed Emerie out into the corridor. The grey colouring of her new clothes matched the other scientists and the non-descript design of the inside of the base.

They turned a corner to pass a squad of clone prisoners being escorted past and Omega let out a gasp as she recognised the figure at the front of the line but despite her effort to look at him, he only stared at the floor.

--

Omega entered the lab and watched in quiet upset as the clone was subjected to a blood sample being taken from the back of his hand. They all had similar expressions of pain and defeat written across their faces and she wished she knew how to stop it.

Emerie placed the test tube into one of the free slots in the tray that Omega was holding before she took the datapad out and created a record for Omega. “And now I need to take a blood sample from you.”

“From me?” Omega repeated. “Why?”

“The samples are used for various research projects. All of us serve a purpose here.” Emerie explained. “It won’t hurt.” She added as a means of reassurance before she readied the equipment to take the sample.

Omega sat up on the bench. “Can you at least tell me where my brothers are? Or my friend, (Y/N)?”

“I do not know.” Emerie replied simply.

Omega held her hand out and braced against the sting of the needle as her blood was drawn. “If you’re a clone like me, how come I never saw you on Kamino?”

“Because I was sent elsewhere until Dr. Hemlock took me under his wing. He saw potential in me, like Nala Se sees in you.”

“I never knew that I had a sister. It’s nice not being alone.” She offered Emerie a small smile, but it wasn’t quite returned.

“Head to the lab.” Emerie ordered as she took the device away and placed Omega’s sample in with the others. “Nala Se is expecting these.”

--

As the security scan was completed, Omega entered the lab and walked over to Nala Se who was busy placing more blood vials into a centrifuge.

“Thank you, Omega.” Nala Se said as she took the tray from her and started processing the data from the samples and it was through that that she saw the concerning sight that Omega was now a part of the system. “Omega, your sample was taken?”

“Mn-hmm. Emerie said it was routine.”

Nala Se deleted the record from the system before she destroyed the physical sample.

Omega watched this with curiosity. “Why are you discarding it?”

“Tell no one.” Nala Se replied before she took the other samples to the centrifuge. “It is safer this way.”

Omega knew the Kaminoian well enough to pick up on the worry in her voice. “This research, it’s not like what we did on Kamino, is it?”

“No, it is not.”

“I don’t understand. Why did they bring me here?” Omeag asked, hoping that if Emerie couldn’t give her the answers that she sought then Nala Se would have some idea.

“To ensure that I co-operate. The Empire seeks the reproduction of a genetic M-count, but the experiments on the specimens have yet to yield the desired result.”

The M-count was something she was aware of but nothing else Nala Se was saying made much sense to her. “What specimens? You mean the clones?”

“No. Not the clones.”

Any further elaboration was cut off as the lab doors opened and Omega turned to see who it was.

“How nice to see you reunited with your trusted assistant.” Hemlock commented to Nala Se. He massaged the palm of his gloved hand. “I’m sure Omega’s presence here will only strengthen your efforts. Shall we head to the vault?” He waved a hand in front of him towards the doors.

Omega went to leave but Nala Se’s hand on her shoulder stopped her from advancing.

“See to your remaining tasks.” Nala Se instructed before they left the lab.

Omega watched them from the window and wondered what was so special about this vault Hemlock had mentioned but she didn’t have the means to find that out yet. For now, she had little choice but to head to her next chore of the day.

--

She glared at the droid as he shocked one of the Lurca hounds and she irritably scooped some food up before sending it through the hatch into the bowl of the hound she was currently tending to. As the droid’s attention was focused on something else, she took the opportunity to gather more loose straw from the ground and hid it in the bottom compartment of her box.

She carried on to the last cage to see her favourite of the hounds. “Hi Batcher.” She whispered to the hound curled up at the far end of the cage but her only reply was a low growl. It was then she noticed the bowl was overflowing with uneaten food. “Hmm. Still won’t eat the food, huh? I don’t blame you.” She stole a quick glance back to the droid to see he was still paying her no attention and she took the chance to fish out her lunch from earlier. “Here, I saved you some of mine.”

Batcher got to her feet but snarled and pressed herself aggressively against the bars of the enclosure.

In the shock, Omega had dropped the nuggets inside the cage, but she watched as Batcher ate them and swiftly retreated to the back of the space. “Better? I’ll bring you more tomorrow.” She stood up and left to do what she had been wanting to do the entire day.

--

As she slowly walked down the corridor, she glanced between each of the cells, the sounds of teeth chattering and coughing made her concern grow as she saw the effects this place was having on all of the clones here.

She made her way to the cell she’d been searching for. “Crosshair.” She called quietly. “I tried to come earlier, but there were too many guards watching me.”

Crosshair sighed. “You shouldn’t be down here at all.”

“Well, how else are we gonna plan an escape?”

“There is no ‘we.’ And there is no escape.” Crosshair sat up. “I’ve already tried.”

“Every stronghold has a weak point.” Omega said. “Maybe I can convince Emerie to help. She’s one of us.”

She sounded just like them and that was the last thing he needed. “Not every clone is your ally. You trust too easily.”

“Maybe you don’t trust enough.” Omega countered but as she said that she noticed a tremor in his right hand which he tried to conceal with by holding it with his left. “Crosshair?”

“Just…” He sighed again. He didn’t need her pity or her concern. “Go, before you make things worse for both of us.”

Omega went to leave but she stopped herself. “There has to be a way out of here. I’ll find it.” She didn’t expect a reply, so she didn’t wait for one, instead she left now.

Crosshair watched her go. Even from that small interaction, he’d already seen so much of them in her and that would either make her or break her in this place and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be around to watch.

--

Darkness had fallen and it was that time again where she scratched the next tally into the wall. She brought the Lula hay doll out and held it close to her chest- it wasn’t much but it was the reminder of home she needed. If you truly weren’t here, then Omega knew you all would be looking for her, but she was going to do whatever it took to make that easier.

--

5 months later

The dripping water, the sunlight creeping in, the birds chirping, the concealing of her doll at the bottom of her box… the routine was all so familiar now. She was already standing at the ready for when Emerie opened the door and, like clockwork, it whirred open to reveal the older clone who had the same opening remark she always did.

“Good morning, Omega.”

“Good morning.”

“Let’s begin.” Emerie led the way out.

--

Yet again, they walked the same route to the testing centre and yet again she passed Crosshair in the corridor, but she had long since learned that trying for any sort of recognition from him in this environment was pointless, so she kept her gaze down too.

She let her blood be drawn, her hand was now numb to the sensation, and she took all the samples to the lab where Nala Se once again destroyed all traces of her sample. She hadn’t been able to learn anything more about the vault or the specimens but what she had gathered was that you, Hunter, and Wrecker definitely were not here and that made the thought of escape feel far more feasible and appealing.

--

The lurca hounds were the same as they always were but as she made her way to Batcher’s spot, she saw the hound tending to a nasty cut on her front right leg. “Batcher? K-9X1! Hurry!” She yelled to the droid.

“What is the issue?” The droid asked as he approached the girl.

“Batcher’s hurt.” Omega informed him.

“LH-201 sustained injures during the nightly patrol. If her wounds do not heal, the subject will be terminated.”

“Then do something to help her!” Omega demanded.

“I am not a medical droid. It is not part of my programming.”

Omega could only watch as the droid merely walked away, and she turned to the sound of Batcher’s whimpers of pain. She wouldn’t accept termination as Batcher’s fate, if the droid wouldn’t help Batcher, then she would.

She ran over to the medical kit on the wall and took the bacta out but when she reached into the kennel to try and tend to the wound, Batcher snapped at her. “Now look. I need to clean your wound for it to get better. It’ll only hurt for a second, so put those teeth away and behave.” She said sternly but it seemed to do the trick as Batcher let her do it. “See? That’s not so bad.”

Omega worked in silence for a few seconds before she spoke to the hound again, “You know, I have a friend that would’ve been able to help us get along a lot faster.” She said warmly as she continued to apply the bacta to the wound. “But I think we’re getting there now.” She smiled as Batcher gave her hand a tentative lick once she finished with the bacta.

--

“I dressed Batcher’s wounds as best as I could. At least she didn’t bite me. That’s progress, right?” she looked at Crosshair, but he gave her nothing, so she continued talking. “If she doesn’t get better soon…” She sighed. “Maybe I can steal a med kit from the lab and see if there’s anything I can use-”

“Stop.” Crosshair interrupted her with a frustrated sigh. Clearly the others hadn’t done a very good job of making her stay on course and now he needed to be the one to remind her. “What is your primary objective?”

“Escape.” Omega answered.

“Then stop wasting time on lost causes. Forget the hound, forget me, and complete the mission.”

“Not without you.”

“If I get the chance to escape, I wouldn’t think twice about leaving you behind.”

“You’re lying! You wouldn’t do that. You’re my brother.”

She had been insisting on that for months now, no matter how many times he tried to push her away and he didn’t know how much more of that he could tolerate hearing. “I’m not them.” Crosshair snapped.

Omega couldn’t accept that. “I’m not giving up, Crosshair. I won’t let you either.” She got up to leave.

Crosshair stood up with a heavy breath and called out to her retreating figure. “Omega.”

Omega stopped and turned back to face him.

“Don’t risk anything for me. I belong in here.” He said, meaning every word.

“None of us belong in here.” She replied before walking away.

--

Her door whirred open before the usual time, and she woke up with a gasp as two troopers entered her room. She got to her feet and concealed her doll behind her. “What’s going on?” She asked Emerie.

“Surprise inspection. Standard procedure.” Emerie informed her.

“Clear.” One of the commandos said.

However, the other noticed the doll hidden behind her back and he tore it from her grip and handed it to Emerie.

“We’ve been over this before, Omega. Personal items are forbidden.” Emerie chastised her. “I’ll dispose of it.”

“Don’t!” Omega protested. “Please, Emerie.”

“It is for your own good. Come, we have work to do.”

--

It was a welcome sight to see Batcher so happy to greet her this time around. “Hey, Batcher.” Omega said fondly and she saw the wound had nearly scarred over. “Look at you. You’re almost at a hundred percent.” She gave her a soft scratch on the jaw.

“Did you not read the standing order for the day?” The droid yanked her to her feet. “LH-201 has been slated for termination.”

“What? Why? She’s healed.” Omega argued.

“The creature’s recent domesticated disposition has been deemed a liability.”

“But that’s my fault, not hers.” Omega tried to resist being pulled away, with Batcher also barking in protest, but the droid’s grip was strong.

The droid groaned. “It is protocol.”

Omega finally managed to weasel her way out of his grasp and steal his datapad but the droid reacted swiftly and started to pull it away from her. She allowed herself to be tugged airborne and she braced her feet against the droid’s torso and leaned back, the momentum giving her the victory. She got away from the droid with the datapad in her hands and she quickly activated one of the large crates on the ceiling above and it fell on top of K-9X1. She grabbed his electro-staff and shocked him with it but not before he had the chance to call security so now, she had to act swiftly.

Omega used the datapad to open the exit hatch in Batcher’s kennel and deactivated her collar. “Batcher, come!” She ran over to the bars and reached in to take the collar off the hound. “Now you need to run away and not come back, okay?” It pained her to let her one close companion go but it needed to happen. She patted her snout. “And try not to bite anyone.”

Batcher hesitated and whined at her.

“I can’t go with you yet.” Omega explained. “I have to get Crosshair first. Batcher, go!” Omega watched her run down the tunnel with both relief and sadness, but she’d get out soon too, she knew she would.

“Breaking the rules, I see.”

Omega jumped and turned around to see Hemlock standing before her and Emerie standing behind him.

“And releasing a weak lurca hound into the wild? I didn’t know you were so cruel, Omega.”

“Me? You were gonna terminate her.” Omega said angrily.

“And you believe your actions changed that outcome?” When Omega faltered in her reply, he kept speaking, “Now some rotations ago, one of our shuttles crashed just beyond this mountain. But that is not what killed them. No, it was the creatures that roam the jungle. Even our strongest lurca hounds struggle against what’s beyond these walls. And your domestication of LH-201 only made her vulnerable.”

“You don’t know she won’t survive.” Omega disputed. “She deserves a chance.”

“Oh, the flawed logic of an idealistic child.” Hemlock’s tone fuelled with quiet mockery. “Emotion and sentiment have no place within these walls. You would do well to remember that.”

She wasn’t afraid of his threats anymore. “Or what?”

Seeing the way he turned to look at Omega again, Emerie hastily intervened. “Doctor, perhaps I should return Omega to her room.”

Hemlock held a hand up to stop her from going any further and kept his gaze on Omega. “You have more to say?”

“I know you brought me here to make Nala Se cooperate. You need her. She won’t work for you if you hurt me.” Omega said confidently.

Hemlock only laughed. “Of course I’m not gonna hurt you, Omega.” He inhaled deeply. “Your friend in the detention block, however, may not be as fortunate.”

“Don’t hurt Crosshair! He didn’t do anything.”

“I did have plans for CT-9904, despite his resistance to re-education, but I am willing to make a few sacrifices if your misbehaviour continues.” He bent from the waist and leaned down towards her. “Actions always have consequences. Sometimes not in the ways we imagine.”

Now that threat was one that she knew he would follow through on and she didn’t want to be responsible for Crosshair suffering even more than he was already.

“Take her back to her room and restrict her access.” Hemlock ordered Emerie as he exited.

Omega left with her a few seconds later.

--

Night had fallen and Omega sat huddled on the edge of her bed, but she heard the door open. “Go away.” She said with a sigh, not even bothering to look at Emerie this time.

“Omega…”

“Please… just go.” She requested, hoping the misery in her voice would be enough to convince Emerie to leave and she was grateful to hear her footsteps retreat and she angled herself towards the door to see that her hay Lula had been returned to her. She picked it up, but the sound of a lurca howling brought her back to the window.

She attempted in vain to peer through to bars to the outside for any sign of Batcher, but she couldn’t see anything. She then looked at the growing collection of tallies that represented the months that she’d been here. It may take more time, but now more than ever she knew she needed to get out and she needed to take Crosshair with her.

--

Hunter’s eyes snapped open, and his heart was pounding in his chest, but his surroundings told him it had been another dream. The ship was still steadily travelling through hyperspace towards Oba Diah, and the three of you had been using the long journey to catch up on some much-needed rest before the mission would begin.

Reaching out to Roland Durand of all people had felt like a long shot but when he said he could help if you only found the Pyke that had disgraced him and the Durand name, it had been an easy decision to accept but it had done nothing to quell the worry and fear that coursed through his veins. He sat up and began the usual routine of deep breathing.

Ever since you’d fully opened yourself up to him and the Force again, he didn’t need to wake you anymore when this happened, you would feel everything he felt and wake up a couple seconds after he did, and this time was no different. “Which one this time?” You whispered; your tone filled with tender understanding.

“I’m sorry.” Hunter rasped as he steadied his breathing. He hated that this was having a knock-on effect on you two, especially since your own sleep had only now started to get better. You were another person he was still finding a way to let down.

You shushed him softly as you sat up next to him. You have nothing to be sorry for. “Which one?” You prompted again. You knew his sleep had been haunted by more than just the reminders of what had happened in the recent months, it was these new nightmares that were plaguing him more and more.

Hunter released a heavy breath. “Same one as the nights before. I can see her, she’s right in front of me but no matter what I do, I can’t reach her and- and then she’s taken away.”

You pressed your lips to his shoulder, and you rubbed soothing circles on his back. “This mission for Durand is another step in the right direction. You’re doing all you can. We will find her, Hunter.”

Hunter shook his head and swung his legs out to the side of the bunk. “We took too long to find you, and you weren’t even really hiding.” Hunter countered without glancing back at you.

He didn’t need to look at you for you to feel his distress. You reached a hand out to his shoulder to try and get him to face you again. “Hunter-”

He gently but firmly pushed your hand away. “I’m going to go over what we’ve got again. Go back to sleep, I’ll be back soon.”

You sighed and watched him go to the cockpit. You’d seen the shift in him as had Wrecker. The relief of your reunion had long since passed and he, like the two of you, was getting more desperate to find Omega but it was affecting him far more than he was willing to talk about. His once calm and collected demeanour had vanished and he was taking on missions with little care for the risk or conditions they came with and this mission for Durand was no exception. Whilst you and Wrecker were happy to agree, there had been little discussion over the matter or the conditions of the deal. The two of you had done what you could, but you knew the only true thing that would bring him comfort would be finding Omega again.

Although a strong part of you wanted to follow him, you knew that right now, he needed the space, and you would give him that, but you couldn’t stand by and watch him drive himself into the ground for much longer.

--

You woke up again to find the space next to you ice cold and you knew that Hunter had not returned at all, and he wasn’t planning too. You tossed the blanket aside and silently walked towards the cockpit where you could hear the faint tapping of fingers against the keys of a datapad.

You leaned against the entryway to the cockpit and studied him for a moment as he kept his focus on Tech’s datapad. He looked utterly exhausted. His head drooped every few seconds, his shoulders were hunched, and weariness was written all across his face. It pained you to see him like this.

Aware that his brother was sleeping a few metres away, his words to you were quiet, “I said I’d be back soon.” He continued to tap through the intel that he’d been anxiously scanning for any detail he could’ve missed.

“You said that hours ago.” You matched his volume and straightened up. “You need to talk to me. Shutting down like this isn’t good for you.”

“I’m not shutting down. I’m doing what needs to be done to get Omega back.” He couldn’t stop. He’d let her down for long enough. The answer was there, and he kept missing it and he couldn’t stand it.

You fully came into the cockpit and kneeled in front of him. “You may be a leader, Hunter, but you’re not alone. This isn’t just the fear that we’re not going to get her back because you know we’re not going to stop until we do. There’s something else you’re afraid of.” You searched his face for a sign of what more it could be, but he wasn’t giving anything away. You kept your voice low but kind, “What is it?”

Hunter ignored you and kept his eyes fixed on the words on the screen in his possession, but he wasn’t reading them anymore.

“Hunter, put it down.” You attempted to take the datapad but his hold was too tight.

“I can’t stop. I can’t. She-” He cut himself off and swallowed thickly. “I can’t stop.” He repeated again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re no good to anyone if you’re too exhausted to think straight.” You said with concern. “Talk to me, please.”

Hunter silently shook his head. The responsibility of all of this was on him, you shouldn’t be worrying about him now.

You knew how hard this was and he rarely allowed himself those moments of vulnerability, but he’d been there for you countless times, it was now your turn to be the one he could lean on. “You’ve helped me through so much, Hunter.” You placed one hand on his tattooed cheek and stroked your thumb along his cheekbone and whether he meant it or not, you felt him relax into your touch. “Let me help you now.” You whispered as your other hand fanned across the datapad and started to push it out of his grasp. “Put it down.”

“I-”

“Put it down.” You repeated again, applying more pressure now as you felt his resistance fade and relief coursed through you as he let you take it from him.

Hunter finally let the datapad slip from his grasp and he let the tiredness take over and his body sagged against the chair.

“What else is it that’s bothering you?” You came back from putting the datapad away and crouched again and laid your hands on his knees.

Hunter hesitated for a moment but for this first time since he woke up, he caught your eyes and he saw nothing but love and concern behind them and he swallowed thickly. “All she wanted was to not end up an experiment and that’s exactly what I’ve let happen.”

“Hunter…”

The words just tumbled from him now. “I let down Crosshair, I let down T- I let down Tech. I was too late to save them, but I still had you, I still had Wrecker and I still had Omega. Then you and Omega were ripped away from us and that was another thing I couldn’t stop. I relied too much on Wrecker when we were looking for you, I wasn’t who he needed me to be, and I can feel that happening again. I can’t be too late again. I can’t let another person down… I can’t let Omega down.” He turned away from you once more.

Your heart broke for him. “You have done no such thing.” You brought your hand back to his face to keep his eyes on you. “Listen to me, you didn’t let them down and you weren’t too late for them. At that time, Crosshair had made his choice, and you wouldn’t have been able to change his mind. Tech, he-” You felt the emotions rise up in your throat, choking the next words you were going to say. After pausing for a second, you cleared your throat and started again, “Tech made his choice. That wasn’t you being too late for them. As for Wrecker, he won’t and doesn’t think that. You’re his brother first, Hunter, he would never think that.” You paused for a moment to let that sink in before you added, “And you weren’t too late for me either. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”

Hunter’s jaw tightened as he listened to the words you said but he couldn’t quite bring himself to fully believe them.

Still seeing the reluctance behind his eyes, you took his hand and placed it over your heart. “Feel that? I’m not worried, I’m not doubting you. We’re getting her back, you have not failed her, Hunter and she’ll know we’re looking for her. She’ll know that.”

Hunter closed his eyes and let the comfort of your steady heartbeat flood his senses.

After some time had passed, you decided it was time for him to get some proper rest before you arrived on Oba Dia. “Come on.” You took his hands, and a gentle tug encouraged him enough to get to his feet.

Hunter was so tired he could barely register his movements; all he knew was somehow you were getting his feet moving and leading him back to your bunk.

“Lie down.” You instructed gently as you reached the bed.

Hunter did as you said, and he felt you slide in next to him, he willed his weary body to turn and hold you like he usually did.

You shook your head and nudged him, so his back was facing you. You wrapped your arm around him and put your hand in his and placed it over his chest. “Just close your eyes and breathe with me.”

“This mission’s gonna help us somehow, right?” Hunter murmured with a tired voice.

You planted a soft kiss to the hinge of his jaw. Yes, it will. Drug syndicates were not high on your list on the people you were looking to stay on an even keel for. The Pykes weren’t going to stop you from doing whatever it took to get to her.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @starwarsnerd111, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @skellymom, @lokigirlszendaya

[em-harlsnow]

I wanted to do another speed write, so here it is.

They're sitting in the living room, and for once they're all together.

Together, except not, because each of them is off in their own bubble and it feels like when they were kids. When they could just be around each other without reason or need to talk or have a purpose to be there for.

Ian and Mickey are beside each other on the couch, watching something from Ian's phone. Debbie absentmindedly braids Franny's hair as she watches some documentary which is playing. Carl is playing a seemingly very intense game of draughts with Lip across the living room table. Liam pours over his homework on the other end. Tami is messaging one of her coworkers in the armchair.

The only one missing is Fiona, and the loss is acute but bearable.

Lip cheers as he manoeuvres his piece to take three of Carl's at once. Carl huffs and rolls his eyes, clearly losing but choosing to continue playing anyway.

It's then that Liam closes his maths book and opens up his backpack, placing the completed homework inside and pulling out a coloured cube.

"Lip." Liam states, tiredly.

"Mhm." He's focussed on the board, trying to absolutely annihilate his brother.

"Can you solve this?" He asks, holding up the Rubik's cube in one hand, staring at it like an enemy.

Lip turns and looks at it, frowning. "No. Why?"

Liam sighs. "If I can bring it in solved my teacher said she'd give me extra credit. We all got one."

"Just move the stickers around." Lip advises.

"I already thought of that. It doesn't have stickers, the colours are just on each piece. It's a fancy one."

"Liam, your teacher's scamming you. Those things are impossible. The only people who can solve them are magicians or just really lucky." Lip tells him.

"They're not impossible." Mickey snarks, rolling his eyes. "Give it here." He makes a gesture at Liam.

"Why?" The boy asks skeptically.

"I can solve it." He explains, like it's obvious.

"Really, Mick?" Lip says with a voice full of doubt.

"Yes, asshole. Now hand it over."

Lip raises his eyebrows but Liam tosses it to Mickey.

"You can solve a Rubik's cube?" Ian questions.

"Yes." Mickey replies as he starts shifting the sides and the middles, turning it around in his palms to figure out the patterns. His tongue pokes out of his cheek as he focusses. "It's been a while, I'm rusty. So it might take a minute."

Lip snorts. "Just admit it's impossible."

"Shut the fuck up, dick."

The rest of the room goes back to their own devices, momentarily entertained by the conversation but ultimately disinterested. Only Ian continues to watch as Mickey plays around with the colours, slowly building the cube to completion. Even Liam turns away, choosing to start on his English homework instead of watching something he doesn't think will yield results.

It's clear no one thinks he'll actually be able to do it.

Ten minutes of clicking pieces ensue, and Ian returns to his phone.

After another ten minutes, the cube is slammed onto the table, six perfectly neat and completed sides displayed clearly.

Ian glances up to see it, and has to double take. Lip looks stunned, and Liam looks at the cube like it's his greatest enemy.

"Woah." Carl states.

"How did you do that?" The youngest Gallagher rages. "I've been trying all day!"

"I learnt ages ago. Found one of 'em in the back of a car we stole. Got bored and used YouTube to learn it. I could probably do it in less time now that I've figured it out again." Mickey shrugs, and Ian looks fucking awed.

"There's no fucking way you just solved that. You didn't mix it right, Liam. I'll make it really messed up, then I bet he can't." Lip challenges, messing up the solved puzzle again.

Mickey shrugs again. "It ain't about how 'hard' you make it, Phillip. It's a system."

Lip ignores him, then presents him with a thoroughly scrambled product a few moments later.

"Solve that." He says, smugly.

"Easy, bitch." Mickey smirks, then starts again.

Ian watches with extreme interest, this time and the rest of the Gallaghers are just as transfixed.

He completes the white side first, slowly building the red, green, blue and orange, then working on the yellow. At a point, it looks almost done, only the yellow corners are out of place. Then, Mickey messes it all up.

"Don't do that!" Ian shouts. "You're messing it up again."

Mickey's attention never leaves the coloured squares. "Fuck off, I know what I'm doing." And he keeps turning the faces until suddenly it all comes together again. "See, Lip. Doesn't fucking matter."

Lip looks horrified. "There's no way."

"That's cool, Mickey." Debbie chirps, grinning at Lip's reaction.

"That's so cool." Carl's eyes are sparkling. "Even Lip isn't smart enough to do that."

"Shut up, Carl." Lip rolls his eyes, kicking at his brother playfully. "It's a kids game."

"Yeah, a kids game you can't do." And then the two are tussling light heartedly.

But Ian's attention is completely on Mickey, who seems absolutely calm about the whole thing.

Later on, they're lying in bed together and Ian won't stop staring at him.

"I can feel you looking at me, man. What's up with you?" Mickey asks, thoroughly unimpressed.

"Solve it again." Ian orders without explaining, extracting Liam's (again messed up) cube from the nightstand to his husband.

"Why? You don't believe I can do it?" Mickey counters, prepared to prove him wrong.

"No, I think you can. But-" Ian leans in to whisper into his ear, "-I wanna see you do it again."

Mickey raises his eyebrows. "Coloured squares turn you on, Gallagher?"

"Mmm. Hot husbands who know how to solve the coloured squares turn me on." Ian grins down at him salaciously.

Mickey laughs and Ian shoves at his hands where they're clutched around the cube.

"I'll suck you off while you do it." Ian tells him, moving down his body.

"I like the sound of that." Mickey drawls and starts moving the pieces hurriedly.

Ian smiles.

Okay, I don't know what happened to this, it wasn't meant to get smutty but my brain went to kink and I obey my brain.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed.

This may or may not have anything to do with how proud I am that I can solve a Rubik's cube.

[bow-of-aros]

Playing with Fire

Charles is a little gremlin with golden retriever energy and you can pry that out of my cold dead hands.

-

“Come any closer and I will end you.”

The severity of that statement was acutely undermined by the wobbly grin forcing its way across Edwin’s face and the fact that he was effectively hiding behind his desk.

The reason for that stood across from him.

Charles had been in something of a mood all day. He was restless and twitchy and there wasn’t anything to do that scratched the persistant itch in the back of his mind. When he’d tried to open a book, his eyes glazed over as he reread the same paragraph five times without absorbing any of it. He’d quickly grown bored of walking the streets outsideand the few different board games he’d tried couldn’t hold his attention for long.

And Edwin was ignoring him.

Okay, well, not exactly ignoring. But it was close enough!

After those first few attempts at board games, Edwin had told Charles that he could occupy himself as he had work to do. And he’d done exactly that, leaving Charles to his own, clearly ineffective, devices.

He’d been in and out of the office several times at this point, so Edwin didn’t even lift his head as Charles phased through the door and collapsed onto the couch. He flipped over so that his legs were up against the wall and his head was hanging off the seat, watching whatever task that Edwin thought was sooooooo important.

He was reorganizing the bookshelf. Again.

This happens about once a week, and it always follows the same pattern: Edwin decides that the current arrangement of novels and spellbooks and whatnot isn’t efficient enough, so he changes it. Sometimes he changes it by author, sometimes by topic, one memorable time he organized them by colour after Charles spent too long pulling out red books when looking for a green one.

These new arrangements last maybe an hour, sometimes a little more if Edwin is particularly diligent about not looking at the bookshelf, before he puts everything back exactly how it was.

Charles couldn’t think of a less productive, and more boring way for Edwin to spend his time.

It was a good thing that Edwin had his back to Charles, because then he couldn’t see the mischevious gring that slid into place as he silently righted himself on the couch and got to his feet.

At least, Charles though that it was a good thing. Someone needed to help Edwin loosen up and relax because he definitely wasn’t going to do it himself.

Edwin might disagree.

As Charles drew closer, he could hear Edwin mumbling to himself, trying to decide whether Mary Westmacott should go under W, for obvious reasons, or under C as it was a pseudonym for Agatha Christie.

Charles waited until he’d decided on C, just as he knew he would, and raised his arms to begin shelving them.

Immediately, Charles goosed his friend’s side, causing him to drop the book with a loud THUD and whirl around to face him. Whatever reprimand Edwin had been preparing died on the tip of his tongue as he caught sight of the look on Charles’ face. He was grinning brightly, eyebrows slightly raised and eyes dancing with a devious light.

Edwin knew that look. That look always meant nothing but trouble for him.

So, he did what any self-respecting detective would have done in the face of their restless best friend aching for some mischief, and ran.

It was by some sort of unspoken agreement that he didn’t try and leave the office. He figured that Charles needed to burn off some energy, and this would be the best way to do it.

Also, it was a little thrilling to be chased just for the fun of it. There would be no doll-spider ripping him limbs apart if he was caught, just the soft smile and warm hands of the person he trusted most in this world.

While Edwin was faster by half, there wasn’t exactly much room in the office, which is how he found himself in his current predicament: Trapped between the desk and the wall, Charles blocking his only escape unless he felt like phasing through a wall and falling a few stories.

Which he didn’t, just to be clear.

Charles laughed at his threat, nearling bouncing in his excitement, “End me? Don’t know if you noticed mate, but we’re ghosts. There’s not much left to end.”

He faked a lunge to one side, laughing again when Edwin jolted in the other direction, “You know what I- ah,” he stutters when Charles raises his hands to wiggle his fingers teasingly, “What I mean,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh yeah?” Edwin feels as though his heart may burst at the sheer delight on Charles’ face right now, “And what do you mean?”

His smile is bordering on dangerous, so Edwin knows that he only has one final shot at this, “What I mean is that you are playing with fire and I am going to make you thoroughly regret this.”

The brief flash of nervousness that flickers across Charles’ expression is quickly replaced by a determined grin and Edwin know’s that he’s done for.

“Well then,” Charles says, “Suppose I should make the most of this then, shouldn’t I?”

And then he lunges through the desk, sending Edwin toppling back with an unbecoming shriek.

Charles catches him by the wrist and spins him around so that his back is pulled flush against Charles’ chest. He wastes no time in kneading into Edwin’s sides, and amidst his cackling he can’t help but think that now at least he has something else to blame his red face on.

Edwin folds over helplessly at the waist, his knees buckling in their attempts to fold up and protect him. Except, he doesn’t fall down like he expected.

Instead, Charles holds him up, he somehow manages to lift what is nearly Edwin’s complete weight, while still reducing him to an incoherent mess.

“Unfair! This is unfahahahair! Charles!” He knows that he’s a ghost, but Edwin feels as though he may die if Charles doesn’t move right the hell now.

Charles seems to take the hint, although he’s not quite sure if that’s a good thing, as he says, “Oh, really? You think that’s unfair? Well how about this!”

His hands still, which is a relief, but it is quickly followed by lips attaching to his neck and blowing what may be the most unbearable raspberry Edwin’s ever felt in both life and death. He doesn’t scream, but it’s a near thing as he falls back into frantic laughter.

Charles repeats that a few more times before gently lowering him to the floor, allowing him to suck in greedy breaths of air that he really doesn’t need.

When he looks up, the look on Charles’ face is so fond and so happy that Edwin almost feels bad for what he’s about to do.

Almost.

He draws himself up, dusts off his shoulders, and says, “You have five seconds to run.”

Edwin will hold the look of gleeful terror he saw before Charles bolted very close to his heart for years to come.

But, for now, there’s energy to be burned, and revenge to be had.

-

You can find the continuation to this fic here!

[secret-fiction]

Sonic Boom: Those Who're Made Fools

As April Fools day is upon them, Sonic the Hedgehog and his friends must contend with a series of pranks from an outside source that go a little farther than they would like.

Updated Version of this Sonic Boom April Fools themed fanfiction. A new ending & epilogue will be added at to this post as a reblog. 6,238 words here. 10,198 words total.

General Audiences, Swearing

While Sonic the Hedgehog would usually be sleeping in, the cool breeze blowing through his hut and swaying the hammock he laid on beckoned him awake. He declined this request to wake up at a normal time and curled up further. However his body began to shiver and his mind was dragged into enough consciousness to realize that the cool breeze was actually a freezing wind. His eyes shot open, seeing a light flurry of snowflakes blowing over him, already building up drifts in his beachside hut. 

“What the f-, flakes? Snow??” said Sonic as he wobbled to his feet.

The warm light of sunrise was peering through his windows and the island outside looked as tropical as it should. The culprit then, Sonic deduced, was likely the large yellow painted machine that looked like an industrial sized window air-conditioner if it were built by a mad scientist. 

A letter lifted off of the pile of mail he kept strewn on the ground and into his face. It was the invitation to Amy’s birthday event this evening. Thus, it was also April Fools day.

“Either Tails actually got his sleep schedule in check just to get me first, or I need to have a chat with him about staying up all night again,” said Sonic aloud, ears turning to listen for any unseen listener. 

The wind then picked up, the flurries of snow beginning to sting as they struck Sonic. In fact it was more of a semi-frozen rain now. Everything in his hut was quickly being coated with bits of water and ice which created a slick layer over all surfaces. He grumbled and shivered, then dashed to the machine jammed in the door to find the off switch. The machine however blocked the entire doorway. There were no controls on the side facing Sonic, just a torrent of freezing rain blowing from a vent.

“Aw what the heck?!” Sonic tried to push the machine out of his door but found his feet slipping on the frozen and wet floor. “TAILS! I don’t wanna break your new toy here, but I will!”

Sonic heard no response aside from the gale of freezing wind and rain, which grew strong enough to send him slipping onto his face and sliding away to the far wall. He grumbled, stood up, and placed his feet on the wall. With one strong kick he spin-dashed into the machine, sending pieces of it flying as it fell out of his door frame. 

“Brrr, jeez,” said Sonic as he stood up and looked around, seeing no sign of Tails, “don’t tell me he already ran off to prepare another prank. This one was already a bit much… Guess I’ll have to teach him a lesson on restraint.”

With resolve filling his eyes, Sonic the Hedgehog took off running across the beach in a blur. The machine was left behind on his front porch, a problem for later perhaps.

A potential problem for now descended from a hidden perch in the trees of the jungle toward the machine. Insectoid wings fluttered, carrying a figure whose green colour matched the jungle canopy. They landed atop Tails’ machine, then yanked a kunai dagger out of the machine's control panel before heading for their next target.

________________

The drone of power tools echoed throughout Tails’ workshop as usual while he assembled a new gadget. Progress was going good by his insane standards of pacing, so he took a step back to look over the device. Lifting the goggles off of his eyes revealed they bore a giddiness bright enough to almost hide his dark eyebags. This projector he was modifying would surely be perfect for setting the mood at Amy’s event this evening. All he needed to do now was program a remote for ease of use, something he had learned others care about when using technology. From there he’d-

A swinging sound from the mail chute on his door pulled Tails’ attention away. Could it be Sonic’s counter attack already? He chuckled to himself, picturing Sonic popping out of a pile of harmless snow with a dumbfounded look on his face. Upon approach however he saw that it was clearly from Amy. It bore fancy calligraphy for the address and her custom rose wax seal which was slightly cracked, likely from its journey. 

“Oh, she must be excited,” muttered Tails to himself before biting the letter to open it with his teeth. 

Tails immediately regretted his lazy choice of letter opening when a pink cloud of a gas blasted forth from the letter, filling the workshop and his mouth. The taste he recognized as floral air freshener made him gag and spit. Then the overwhelming smell filled his nose. It should’ve smelled pleasant, but the flowery fragrance was so overwhelming, suffocating, that Tails had to cover his snout. He scrambled for the nearest window before his breath ran out. 

“What The FLYING FFff-!” Tails gritted his teeth and compressed his fit into a soft growl while throwing a workshop window open. 

One by one Tails swung every window open. Then he opened the garage door for the hangar portion of his workshop. That didn’t dilute the air freshener smell fast enough so he turned on every industrial fan he could. Soon the continued overstimulation made him resort to using his emergency eye and face wash station, after shoving a pile of boxes blocking access out of the way. The torrent of water on his face made his eyes stop stinging so bad and got most of the taste out of his mouth. But his nose was still completely overwhelmed. 

“I can’t work like this!! Why should I work like this?!” said Tails as he shook the water off of his head. 

The ring of his doorbell drew Tails’ irritated red eyes to the door. Opening it revealed a fast food bag, of which he couldn’t smell at all, sitting on the welcome mat. This was definitely another prank. The fact that he was quite hungry now that he thought about it annoyed him greatly. So he leaned forward and kicked the bag away before turning to slam his door shut. 

“Hey woah!” said Sonic, jumped down from atop the workshop roof, “what’s up? Not hungry?”

Tails glared at Sonic, glancing between him and the bucket of ice and snow in his grasp.

“Okay to be fair you really-” Sonic coughed and waved a hand in front of his muzzle, “wow bud isn’t that a bit too much air freshener? It’s kinda distracting.” 

“Yes! And I guess Amy thinks that’s funny, since evidently you had a much lazier prank in mind,” said Tails.

“Amy?” said Sonic, “she usually doesn’t take time for anything more elaborate than what you can buy at the joke store.”

“Yeah, except when she asks you for help with her party.” Tails walked to his work table and plugged his nose with tissue paper before pushing the projector project aside. “So let’s see how she likes my help now, heheheh…”

“Tails you’re getting a bit maniacal,” said Sonic, “seriously, don’t go overboard again. It just smells a bit too nice in here.”

“You don’t mess with someone's sense of smell and get off easy,” said Tails.

“Okay, well, can I ask your opinion on something first?” said Sonic

Tails turned to face Sonic, only to get a glob of half melted snow thrown in his face. 

“I’ll ask for your help fixing the wind damage to my house later!” said Sonic before dropping the bucket and dashing away.

Tails grumbled, wiped the snow off his face, then grabbed any errant material he had lying around to build his revenge on Amy. Though after a moment or two he started thinking about what Sonic had just said.

“...Fix his house? What?” 

In his state of sensory overload and anger, Tails failed to notice a figure move from its perfectly still position in the jungle canopy outside a nearby window. It stood tall, then began leaping away between the trees toward the village.

_____________

The hum of Amy Rose’s voice trailed through her house as she happily prepared for the rest of the day. Her daily twenty-four step quill-styling routine was now finished, she was dressed, and every surface of the room was covered in decorations and snacks to be assorted. Sure she always had a bit of anxiety about the fact her birthday falls on the first of April, the day of The Fool. But that worry was now barely present after living the last couple of years dealing with Dr. Eggman attacking at any random time. 

Working out a block of time in her schedule to deal with an inevitable attack or crisis meant Amy had all the time she needed to still have a fun birthday. She smiled to herself while looking over a stack of colourful papers she had printed, it was hard to suppress her enthusiasm at having her friends over tonight. Truly the real power of one's birthday was the leverage it put on everyone else to finally try your favorite forms of entertainment. 

“Alright, let’s get this next part right,” said Amy to herself as she organized the papers, character sheets. “This is my one chance this year to convince the other that this’ll be fun. And this time I’m right.”

Amy’s smile faltered slightly as she remembered her failure to convince Sonic and the others that playing out her favorite musicals was fun. Really she should’ve known that’d be too much. This time though, an engaging role playing game… she can get them to agree this activity is worthy of regularity.

A knock on her door made Amy jump and gasp with a smile. She waved her hands a bit to lower her giddiness, taking a deep breath. Then she skipped over to the door.

Greeting her outside was a basket with a bow on it, sitting just past her welcomemat. Amy’s heart skipped a beat, but she quickly recognized Knuckles’ handwriting. “Hope you like these colourful rocks!” It wasn’t a romantic gesture from Sonic, but still nice. With a sigh and a soft smile she stepped forward to see what varieties of polished stones Knuckles had-

Amy’s boot fell through her welcomemate and she stumbled into the hole that had been hidden just below it. It was a short fall, but she landed on her face and splattered some liquid all over herself. It took a few seconds of sitting still to process what just happened.

“What the F-Ow…” said Amy as she stood up, eyes stinging from the oily fluid coating her. “What is this stuff?”

The smell, and once her vision cleared, the black colouration showed Amy that this was actually just oil. Used oil. Most likely motor oil. From a motor. Filled with gunk. Gunk that was now in her quills… and her whole dress.

“Are, You, SERIOUS?!” shouted Amy, “isn’t this a bit much!?” 

Amy sighed, but tried not to let this ruin her mood. It was meant as harmless fun, even if it was harmful to her morning. It wasn't usual for Knuckles to be that deceptive though, even though signs pointed to him being involved with how good he is at digging. Perhaps Tails put him up to this, considering the use of engine oil. But why would he? This is usually a thing between him and Sonic.

After a moment of glowering, Amy decided to climb out of the small hole. The dirty motor oil made this tricky however, as she fell back in several times. By the time she heard the swishing of Tails’ tails mid flight, along with a nefarious chuckle, she had worked through her patience.

“TAILS! Get down here this instant!!” 

Amy heard a gasp, then the patter of footsteps. Tails leaned over the hole and looked at her with a strange squint. She in turn gave him the most stern look she could.

“This is really obnoxious, especially for you!” said Amy.

“Yeah, like you don’t know a thing about obnoxious pranks,” said Tails, glancing away from Amy’s eye contact.

“There’s MOTOR OIL In My Quills Tails!!” said Amy.

Tails leaned out of Amy’s sight, she heard him put something down on her deck, before he leaned back over the hole. “Who put a hole full of motor oil here anyway?”

“...It wasn’t you?” 

“No! This is lazy! And just mean!” said Tails as he gestured energetically, “I’d at least be way more creative for something this mean! Or just less mean if I don’t have time to be creative.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your… prowess with pranking,” said Amy, “Please get me out of here.”

“Oh yeah, sure.”

With ease, Tails lifted Amy out of the hole and dropped her on the deck before landing himself. She pretended not to notice him immediately kicking a really haphazardly thrown together looking device out of sight. 

“Uh, Amy,” said Tails as he rubbed the back of his head, not noticing the oil stain he was leaving there from his glove, “do you happen to know anything about the perfume filling my workshop.”

“What? What happened?” said Amy.

Tails made eye contact with Amy, a look of anger quickly fading to regret. “I-I’m sorry, someone else must’ve put that perfume bomb in my mailbox then.”

“...Probably Eggman, right?” 

“He… He’s not good at all at being that sneaky though…not without letting you know it was him.” Tails squinted as he looked at the hole, “And this does look like it was dug by claws, natural or those glove things people can get. And I guess Knuckles can be sneaky sometimes?” 

“Okay but how would he do this without your help?” said Amy. 

“...I dunno, could’ve gone to a mundane mechanic,” said Tails, “But this is something he’d try to do to Sonic for April fools, not you.” 

Just overhead, as Amy & Tails started talking about their problems, a sneaky individual leapt and flew away from the top of a palm tree. It was bound for a path deeper into the island's jungle. 

_________________

It was much easier for Knuckles to find specific rocks when they were in the ground. The polished stones he’d collected in a gift basket for Amy evaded him in a way most minerals couldn’t. He’d been forced into retracing his steps to the best of his ability, now out on the jungle trails just outside of the Village. However all he could find was litter and Sticks’ traps.

“Oh come on gift basket, where’d you go?!” said Knuckles aloud, “I need you to be a good friend to Amy!”

The gift basket didn’t answer, only the rustling leaves did. Of course Knuckles could quickly gather some neat looking plants, but it wouldn’t have the same meaning to it. He slapped himself on the head trying to remember where he could’ve left the basket. After the week he spent picking out the perfect colourful stones it sickened him to just lose that gift. 

Searching the edges of the trail closely, Knuckles came across a tree with a nook inside it. The bright colours inside excited him for a moment, until he realized that it was only foraged fruit, not his basket of rocks. Though his stomach grumbled now, and the smell of the berries grew enticing. Then when he noticed a doodle carved in the bark next to the nook in the tree, depicting a simple Sticks the Badger giving a thumbs up, he smiled.

“Oh! Awesome! I really gotta thank Sticks for these snack stocks she leaves out,” said Knuckles

As Knuckles stepped close enough to reach into the nook of this tree, something snagged on his leg. He instinctively kicked and felt something wrap tight around his ankle and pull him upward. He gave a yell as the complex and well hidden snare trap hung him upside down from the top of the tree, several feet out of reach of the collection of berries. 

“Ah dang! I set off one of Sticks’ traps again…” said Knuckles as he folded his arms. “Wait, why was there a trap there, when there was a friendly and welcoming sign?! That’s like, the opposite of making sense!”

Knuckles grumbled to himself. If it took Sticks too long to find him then he’d have less time to find his gift basket. Then even less time to beat Sonic & Tails in the April Fools prank war.

“Wait, I think I know what’s going on…. Sticks is trying to make me an April Fool!” said Knuckles, slapping his face in shock. “Oh man I’ve never had to deal with a prank battle involving her before.”

“Knuckles! What’re you doing up there!” shouted the voice of Amy Rose.

“Amy?!” Knuckles looked down to see Amy with several paper towels in her hands & quills and a bag over her shoulder. “Thank goodness you’re here! Sticks got me in a prank-snare thing! Who knows what she’ll do next!”

Amy’s eyes widened, then squinted. “Knuckles, Sticks doesn’t do April Fools day!”

“Oh wait, really?”

“No, she stays in her burrow all day, remember?” 

Knuckles thought about that. He did begin to recall Sticks’ distaste for the idea of April Fools day the first time it was ‘explained’ to her. That was one crappy day, Sonic only barely survived. 

“Oh yeah!” Knuckles leaned up and grabbed the rope tied to his legs, then ripped it apart with his raw strength. He landed on his feet next to Amy and sighed in relief. “I was worried I’d have to stay up there all day. Good thing this rope doesn’t actually belong to Sticks.”

“Hey, I had a question for you,” said Amy.

“Oh yeah, I was gonna ask you about the oily smell but I can wait,” said Knuckles.

“...Yeah you didn’t dig that pit in front of my house then.”

“A pit?” 

“Yeah, sorry, I thought you tried and succeeded to prank me.”

“Oh wow! If I were you I’dve like, punched me in the snoz,” said Knuckles as he looked over just how messed up Amy’s quills were, “man, I’m glad you’re  so reasonable Amy. It’s nice knowing you have faith in the rest of us.”

“Heheh, yeah,” said Amy, tucking the bag over her shoulder behind herself. The spice-laden cupcakes inside will have to wait before burning someone's mouth up.

Seeing where Amy and Knuckles’ conversation was going, the hidden figure in the canopy fluttered away. Only one more member left to find. 

_____________

No amount of fresh air from outside could alleviate the tension in Sticks the Badger’s nerves. She’d just managed to will herself out the door of her burrow, knowing that the number of traps and practical alarms she’d placed around would warn of any intrusion. None of the others were going to mess with her this year, she knew that, they assured her and she trusted them. She desperately wanted to just trust them. 

“C’mon, you promised Amy you’d go to her party…” Sticks muttered, grimacing as she stared down at her boots. 

The sound of a jingling bell made her ear twitch and her body stand even more tense than before. She glanced over, seeing no sign of anyone there. That upset her more than anything she could’ve seen prowling toward her burrow. Her teeth clenched together hard enough to become sore, as they often do. 

Sticks looked in the direction of the other makeshift alarms, then more broadly the edges of the jungle near her burrow. To her relief and ire, someone was here and it wasn’t only her. That camouflaged figure staying perfectly still in the trees evidently didn’t realize to what extent Sticks had memorized the area around her living space.

Being sure to not look to close in the direction of the figure, Sticks started walking into the jungle. The peripheral view she’d had gave her enough information about the size and shape of this stalking figure that she was confident about what to listen for. After only a few steps she heard the sound of it sticking to a new tree, a light thud very subtle but distinct from the tropical woodpeckers. 

“Heh, see, It’s not any of your friends,” Sticks muttered, trying then to steady her breath.

Based on the pace of when the figure hopped between trees, Stick knew exactly which snare to pass under. With a hand on her boomerang she listened as she walked. In short order, the figure fell into the trap as Sticks heard the snare suddenly tighten above her. She scowled, turned on her heel, and whipped the boomerang at the figure whilst snarling. 

The sight of a scarf and large insectoid wings is all Sticks could see of the figure through a cloud of blue glitter as they were pulled away into the air. Sticks heard a snap from her rope and saw the figure dodge the boomerang then duck behind a tree. Then the boomerang came back and knocked the figure down with a thwack, triggering a chain reaction among Sticks’ traps.

Nets and leaves went flying throughout the air as several trees sprung loose from the tension of ropes and traps. Sticks dived behind a safe tree and tried to watch the figure, but they managed to escape her sight and each trap they triggered. Eventually she heard the drone of their large wings as they disappeared into the jungle. The only sign they left behind was a spot of blue glitter on every tree they’d touched. 

“Sticks!” shouted Knuckles, “What was all that?! Are you alright”

“I’ve only heard legends, but if my guess is right… some sort of Ninja,” said Sticks.

Knuckles gasped, “a Ninja?! AWESOME!”

“Wait, you've heard of ‘em?” said Sticks, “The rest of you hardly ever know what I’m talking about.”

“Well when you watch enough tv you learn what a Ninja is,” said Knuckles.

“TV? Darn, I should’ve known…” said Sticks as she walked out to find her boomerang, “wait, why’re you out here?”

“Oh yeah, Amy wanted me to find you. We have a problem.”

_________________

“Hoh Hoh Hoh!” laughed Dr. Eggman as he sat in his room of many monitors. On the largest screen the unfortunate situations of Sonic and his friends played out on loop. His laughs bellowed uninterrupted as a figure stood patiently behind him. It was a green Preying Mantis in gray robes, a pine green scarf hanging from their neck to nearly the floor. They kept their arms folded behind their back and their eyes on the Doctor. 

Also waiting patiently were Dr. Eggman’s assistants, Orbot and Cubot. Though their postures grew more eager and anxious with each loop. 

“Look at his face as he slips onto his own face!” said Dr Eggman, hitting his control panel and laughing, “he’s helpless against a bit of wind and freezing rain! I’ve gotta remember that!”

“Uh boss,” said Orbot, “now that we’ve played these recordings on loop 20 times, perhaps we ought to worry about what Sonic and the others are going to do to retaliate?”

“Oh yeah, what did you build for Sonic to blow up today boss?” said Cubot.

“I didn’t build anything to face them today,” said Dr. Eggman.

“But eeh… that means they’re gonna break something else,” said Cubot.

“No you nincomputer!” Dr. Eggman stood up from his fancy swiveling chair, “they don’t even know who’s responsible for the appropriation of their pranks! It’s genius you see! The initiative still lies with me!”

“But sir, who else would antagonize them like that other than you?” said Orbot.

“Why this mischievous freelancer of course!” said Dr. Eggman, putting one of his hands on the Mantis’ shoulder and giving them a friendly shake.

“I did in fact sabotage their joy today,” said The Mantis, standing stiff and waiting for Dr. Eggman to release them.

“Yes you did! And you got four out five of them! That's four stars out of five in my book! I knew I wouldn’t regret hiring you out of that catalog.”

“Oh yeah, you were like ‘I better not regret this!’” said Cubot, taking up an Eggman-like pose.

Dr. Eggman glared at Cubot, then coughed and turned to look down at the Mantis. “Your contract said I’ve got your services for the whole day, yes?”

“I am standing here for that reason, yes,” said the Mantis.

“Good, now let’s show them who’s really responsible for their misfortune! I’ll even let you partake in gloating with me!” said Dr. Eggman.

“I do not have ‘gloat’ in my skillset. Thus I would perform poorly at that task,” said the Mantis.

“...I can teach you a bit about it on the way.”

___________________

“Alright team, if we’re going to have fun during my birthday, and Sonic & Tails are gonna have a fair ‘battle of pranks,’ we gotta deal with whoever’s trying to ruin our day!” said Amy Rose to the rest of Team Sonic. They had assembled at the Team’s agreed DPZ, De-Prankified Zone, the Meh Burger dining lot. 

“Who, other than Eggman, would go to these lengths anyway?” said Tails, “that’s what’s really bothering me. Have we done anything to someone recently?”

“Well there’s people who get ‘parasocially angry’,” said Sonic with finger quotes. “Could be literally anyone who doesn’t vibe with our brand of swagger and has no life of their own.”

“Ninja’s are notoriously without a life,” said Knuckles. 

“And good at blending in…” said Sticks, turning and eyeing a family sitting at a nearby table with suspicion.

“That I have seen,” said Sonic.

“Oh yeah, did you manage to hire-” started Amy, before the attention-demanding voice of Dr. Eggman rudely interrupted her. 

“MUAHAHAHAH!” bellowed Dr. Eggman from his flying eggmobile. His threatening presence caused the other patrons of meh burger to steadily flee. Though only after gathering their food, napkins, and flavour packets. “Have you had a bout of misfortune today Sonic?”

“Are you going to have some misfortune?” said Sonic, leaning forward but staying seated.

“Not today, Hedgehog! For you see, I have the upper hand.”

Some patrons scooted by the team’s table as Tails said “Have you actually built a badnik we haven’t seen before, or are you just trying to hype up Mega again?”

“Hey! I don’t use that one that often!” said Dr. Eggman

“Uh, yeah, you kinda do,” said Sonic.

“It’s frankly embarrassing how often you pull out the same few badniks on us,” said Amy, “the people of this village can’t even be bothered to put energy into fleeing from you anymore, that’s how stale you’ve gotten.”

“Yeah, and you use the same robots all the time!” said Knuckles.

“Yeah, okay. So maybe I can’t churn out new super badniks at an insane rate, but I’ve got standards for my health! I’m not gonna crunch my schedule if you lot won’t even respect what I build!”

Sonic turned and stared at Tails for a moment, who took a bit to notice. “What?”

Sonic titled his head and raised an eyebrow.

“What??”

“Does Egghead actually have a better sense of self care than you these days?” said Sonic.

Tails folded his arms and looked away from Sonic. 

“If you all could be bothered to pay attention for more than a second!” shouted Dr. Eggman, “You might notice-”

The crash of a soda cup hitting the ground drew everyone’s attention to Sticks. Her hand was clasped around the wrist of the Mantis Ninja, having caught them in the middle of trying to hook a small wire to her leg. The two made eye contact, Stick’s glaring furiously and the Mantis wide eyed yet focused. 

“Well, colour me impressed,” said Dr. Eggman with a widening grin.

Sonic recognized that grin. So he immediately dashed toward Dr. Eggman. Then Eggman pressed a button and something tightened on Sonic’s leg. He fell onto his face and heard a crash behind him. A thin wire had tied to his leg, which led to a small round black badnik shaped like a spider. Three more wires protruding from this badnik were tied to Tails, Amy, and Knuckles, who had all been sent to the floor by the momentum of Sonic’s dash. 

“Ow FUCK!” shouted Tails.

“Tails what the F-! You can’t say that!” said Sonic.

“Actually,” said Knuckles as he pushed the dining table off of himself, “I’m with Tails, this fucking hurts.”

“I’ve had enough of Eggman’s shit today to care,” said Amy.

“Goddammit, could you guys at least try to keep the Team PG?” said Sonic.

“It’s no use anyway,” Said Sticks, still grippin the Mantis, “It’s not like we’re getting fucking renewed anytime soon.”

“...What?” said the Mantis, with the second emotion anyone’s seen on their face being sheer bafflement. 

Sticks responded by punching the Mantis in the face. The force allowed them to pull out of her grasp and dart away, diving behind the counter to the despair of the service worker there. Still Sticks gave chase, throwing her boomerang. 

The Mantis responded with a flying kunai that struck Sticks’ boomerang and changed its trajectory. Truly Ninja’s are as dangerous as Sticks worried, as she found it hard to follow the boomerangs flight path. She only regained sight of it just before it was about to strike her in the face.

Then a second kunai hit the boomerang, deflecting it away from Sticks. Everyone looked over to see a floating hand. Actually, it was attached to a well blended figure, whose colours changed from that of the background to purple. 

“Chaotix agency, Espio,” said Espio the Chameleon.

“Oh he’s good,” said Amy, “how much money did Vector want?”

“Not too much,” said Sonic as he stood up and struggled against the wires of the spider badnik, “they said if we were actually dealing with another Ninja we’d get a discount.”

“That… doesn’t make sense,” said Tails.

“The honor of testing my skills against another trained in these arts,” said Espio as he stepped closer to the Mantis, “is worth a quarter of my boss’ revenue.”

The Mantis nodded, “so be it.”

“That’s it,” said Sticks, “two Ninja’s is too much for me to worry about! I’ve got something more important to be doing!”

Sticks the Badger proceeded to leave… without even assisting her friends. Sonic and the others all exchanged a glance and shrug. 

“What is even happening anymore?” said Dr. Eggman, “this was supposed to be when you all cower at the genius of my Tripping-bot in conjunction with my competent hiring judgment!”

“Well Egghead, you’re not the only one who gets the ‘spies and assassins’ catalog,” said Sonic.

“If that’s the case, no more delaying! Ninja, attack!” shouted Dr. Eggman.

“Go get em Espio!” said Sonic. 

The two Ninja’s locked eyes, raised their kunai, and charged at each other. Just before an intense clash of blades, both Espio and the Mantis dodged into different directions. The blur of their respective colours of green and purple disappeared among the furniture of the dining area. 

Meanwhile Knuckles managed to get a footing against the tension of the wire from the Spider Badnik. Seeing this, Dr. Eggman attacked team Sonic with the basic missiles and laser on his eggmobile. He was sure he could give them a humiliating defeat himself in these conditions. 

Two epic battles played out over the next few minutes. The first being Team Sonic steadily overcoming the problem of being tied together. At Amy’s suggestion, Knuckles took the lead of which direction they would all move, even throwing the others up to Eggman. Via taunting, Tails tricked eggman into blasting the cord tying him to the others and started flying interference. 

Eventually Tails lured Dr. Eggman close enough to the ground for Sonic, Amy, and Knuckles to time a jump together and all land on Dr Eggman's vehicle. Just in time too, as he had finally grabbed ahold of Tails and was about to throw hands. From there all four of the team beat up Dr. Eggman and his eggmobile until he finally admitted defeat, which took an impressive amount of blows to make him do. 

All the while the two Ninja’s engaged in the most intense battle of their lives up till now. The Mantis used their flight advantage to duck behind elevated positions and look for Espio. However Espio knew this and compensated with his camouflage and speed. Both moved between positions only at the best opportunities and waited to find a clear opportunity to attack the other unawares.

From the perspective of everyone else and each other however, they both remained completely out of sight. Some customers even started returning to the Meh Burger, unaware of the intense battle going on between tables and booths.

“...Are either of them still here?” asked Amy.

“ I literally can’t tell,” said Sonic.

“Well one of those ninja knives just appeared in my shoe, and I’m sure it wasn’t there before,” said Knuckles.

“They must be so fast!” said Tails.

“And sneaky,” said Sonic.

“How impressive!” said Amy.

…

“This is so boring,” said Sonic as he sat down in a chair.

“Yep,” said Knuckles.

“I’m afraid so,” said Amy.

“Maybe I could build a Ninja tracker?” said Tails. 

“If this fight takes that long, I think we’re better off-” Sonic leaned back in his chair as he talked and to everyone's surprise tripped the Mantis Ninja, sending them stumbling out into the open.

The Mantis immediately opened their wings to take flight, but were stopped as Espio charged out of nowhere, ramming horn first into their torso. The two Ninjas tumbled to the ground with the sounds of struggle. Once everyone managed to realize what was happening Espio had his kunai at the Mantis’ neck.

“Damn,” said the Mantis.

“Yep,” said Espio.

The two stood up and dusted themselves off. Espio quickly went to retrieve his scattered ninja weapons while the Mantis adjusted their scarf. 

“Apologies Doctorate Eggman,” said the Mantis, “I was bested in the duel. Here is an adjusted invoice. Call my number if you have questions.”

“Right…” said Dr. Eggman as he rebooted the eggmobile.

Sonic and the others went over to Espio to congratulate him. Though the chameleon kept a stoic pose, Amy at least could tell he seemed to appreciate the praise.

“For the discount,” said Epsio as he pulled a pocket register out and started typing into it, “please write down all the thoughts you have about my performance for my boss to see.”

“Yeah I’ll tell vector you did a good job,” said Sonic.

“How will you be paying?”

“I have a card,” said Amy.

“But it’s your birthday!” said Knuckles.

“Yeah, we can cover it, right Sonic?” said Tails.

“Uh… yeah, I’ll just… hafta to buy a smaller gift for Amy,” said Sonic.

“D’aw,” Amy smiled warmly at Sonic, that comment alone fully recovered her mood from earlier, despite the battle damage to her dress and quills. “Don’t worry Sonic, having more money for later is a lovely birthday gift.”

“Oh, yeah, sure thing Ames,” said Sonic.

________________

While his mood was a bit soured, Dr Eggman took some pleasure in knowing he at least inconvenienced Sonic and his friends today. That was worth something. Now he just needed to figure out how best to word that to Orbot and Cubot as to make it sound like he didn’t lose. 

That train of thought was halted when Dr. Eggman got within view of his lair. Smoke poured out of several portions of the structures, and loose wires threw sparks all over the place. Several of his defensive badniks were flying and walking circles around the base in full alert, but it was clear they had no idea where the culprit of this mess was. Dr. Eggman grumbled and flew in closer to evaluate the damage.

“Now who had time to do this?!” Eggman said to the badniks. 

From behind a rock, Orbot and Cubot peeked out and pointed to the top of the base, Orbot stuttering out “she did…”

“Wha-” Dr. Eggman was cut off by Sticks the Badger landing on his Eggmobile and driving an obsidian shortsword into its control panel. He screamed in genuine terror as they crashed to the ground. Dr. Eggman felt himself tumbling until he lay flat on his back. Then Sticks jumped onto his chest and bared her teeth, putting a hand on his collar. 

“I have WAY too much to worry about, without even dealing with this damned ‘Fools Holiday!’”

“Wait, I-” muttered Dr. Eggman.

“SHUT UP!”

Dr. Eggman shut up.

“When I hafta to worry just that much more, it actually hurts! And I’m not willing to spare you the pain it causes me!” Sticks took a few heavy breaths and made sure Eggman was looking her in the eyes. “Now, are you EVER, going to make me hafta to worry about an ‘April Fools’ again?!”

“Well… when you ask so nicely…”

Sticks growled like a wild badger.

“No no of course not! Jeez! I’ll leave you alone if you leave me alone!” said Dr. Eggman. 

Sticks’ posture immediately softened and she released Dr. Eggman's collar. She let out a sigh and said “thanks,” before stepping off of Eggman’s chest and sitting on the ground. 

“Uh… don't mention it,” said Dr. Eggman.

“Yeah, of course… Sorry I hafta be so mean…” said Sticks as she laid her back to the ground. 

“I'm going… to go inside and hide.”

Sticks gave Dr. Eggman a thumbs up and continued to just lie on her back in front of his evil lair.

PART TWO: https://www.tumblr.com/onesecretperson/747242079944622080

[boyakishantrinity]

"Ursa?"

"Ellie, what did you do this time."

"For once. Nothing. But either I'm high, or that's a ship with cloaking devices for the crew who appear to give high frequency sighted aliens inability to see-"

The large bear places his paw on her shoulders turning down to her.

"... Ellie, what the FUCK-"

The ship lurched, throwing the Terran into the bear's lap, groaning as Moon (that's his name translated) got to his feet.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"

"The ship?"

Now on her back, legs leaned against what was the floor. Wait. Why were-

The ship lurched once more, stabilisers activating as it straightened itself.

"SHIT. FUCK. CUNT. ASS-HOOOLE!"

Rolling into the adjacent wall, legs slapping against the floor as the sound of panicked shouts echoed from the hall.

"Ellie?"

"Spinny."

"PRIVATE."

"SIR YES SIR."

Standing at attention, body tense as the captain got to his feet.

"Grab your weapons and beat the intruders to a pulp. No killing, just knock em out. DISMISSED."

"SIR YES SIR!"

She turned, dropping to a sprinting pose before running down the hall, grabbing his abdomen the captain spat out blood. He'd bit his tongue quite hard, nothing major but enough he'd need a minute.

She'd opened door ahead of time, activating her gadgets (read: stolen military gear) to lock the ship down, doors jamming shut, gate permanently locked open, electronic drones no doubt moving to fuse the metal shut on the other end. Creating a channel straight towards her room, jumping across walls as she yanked her stuff out the room.

Legs pounding, head sweating as she slammed an EpiPen into her stomach. Her eyes flicked awake, pirates shouting in languages the translator quickly translated to English.

"WHERE'S THE FUCKING DRILL?"

"STAY THE FUCK DOWN."

"I THOUGHT YOU SAID THIS SHIP COULDN'T LOCK DOWN!!"

"It doesn't."

She froze. That kind of voice generally meant, well not leader. But a core part of the group. She smiled. The first person she'd found to devour.

Greed hissed open the door, slithering its way out the vents before they slammed onto her as the snake like animal growled. Anger. Someone had clearly hacked the damn ship! Some kind of gadget, but the empty hallways left many question. For one. Why was it a straight loop?

Her eyes picked something up, something was running down the hall, some metal device in her hand. It wasn't a plasma pistol, damn tiny weapons made for stunning. The bullet however. What was it? Whatever it was, it wasn't anything modern. Or familiar.

A raider of four seperate systems, pirate (privateer). A class 2 weapon, reliable sure. But bullets were exceedingly rare. And the scent. Foreign. Nothing familiar at all. Not to say unique, it smelt similar. But this. This wasn't-

The moving warm figure had maintained speed, running along a wall as it neared. Three more corridors, sprinting down the hall... She looked up, Orla. The Slithering Claw, the red laser aimed at her. She listened back, her head was angled down. But how could she do so without...

Small movements moved, back and forth, something she'd normally ignore, but now. It flicked it's eyes. Already, she formed a way to fight against the crewmate. Spear drawn, pistol raised and tail prepared to sweep. This would be a quick fight.

Dirt coloured, wearing some kind of tactical armour, semi reflective for light and things slamming into ya. Hmm. Some kind of snake alien.

WISK.

She froze, her body shifting as she moved between the hall, spear drawn with both hands as she raced ahead. A gun in one hand, she stood her ground. Firing, the first reflected. Almost immediately, she frowned. Reaching behind her for something. Handles, many handles. Hesitating, moving. Useless to her.

The snake reared back, spear pushed forward as she hissed.

"YOU WILL DIE."

She leaned back, bending under the staff as she raised a leg, sweeping over the weapon before spanning the wooden handle.

CLICK.

The handle held at her head, a hand on her back as a foot remained on the end of her tail.

"SSSSS"

[Fuck. You]

"... You speak Sawi?"

"Fuck no I don't. Just something my friend's pet does."

She swept her left hand, slamming a knife into her waist. The bone snapping under the knife as she slammed her head forward. Smashing the snake backwards.

"MY HEAD!!"

Swearing in some kind of common tongue, I swiveled the knife, aiming with my right.

"Can't kill ... fine."

The translator barely managed to translate it, pulling out a yellow device before jamming it into her side.

"You-"

She dropped to the floor, knocked out as the noise of metal echoed down the hall. More shouting, the translator shouting into my ear.

She ripped it off, parts flying as she threw a cable. The line twirling around the snake before she tied a rope around her tail.

Good. Now if she tries to move, she'll slap herself with her own tail.

And with a fully loaded revolver, she sprinted down the hall.

They'd taken shelter behind boxes, having cut through the titanium doors, guns raining laser pellets that lost energy as they fired. The metal fragments dropped harmlessly to the ground, tiny metal beads that could be magnetically collected, recharged and then fired again.

BANG

Something flew through the pellets, energised pellet smacking the bullet forward as it blew the hole out of an alien.

"KEEP FIRING. I CAN'T KILL SHIT IF YOU DON'T!"

Shouting from behind them, an M4A1 in hand, the Australian firing her weapon from behind them, single shots loosening craters in the pack of twelve as they began to push forward. Reinforcements. Five against twenty, seemingly still in shock she stabbed herself once more.

Drawing her sword, she charged forward.

"CHARGE!!"

She leapt ahead, sprinting towards the aliens with a an iron sword. Slamming the blade down, she cut down the first alien. The pellets seemed to swerve, hitting the walls and the strange black circles that definately weren't there a few moments ago.

They in fact weren't from a few moments ago, I'd thrown them as I charged, magnets that emit magnets. Since they used pellet weapons, iron pellets. The kind they'd used in PB for extremists (because humans don't have enough ways to shoot at each other), but primarily kept their guns on the low setting. Not enough energy to form a mini magnetic field that'd hit like a point blank barret shot.

But more like that moron who hung off the edge of the speeding bushmaster and got heavily bruised.

But besides that.

She'd cocked her gun, firing at a random alien as she sheathed her sword. Cocking the weapon again, she grinned, smiling at the aliens like a madwoman, wide eyes and a massive grin.

She fired again, cocking her second gun as she tilted her head.

By now, 15 pirates remained, unshot that is. Bullets pierced legs, limbs. Non lethal positions but the kind that make any decent soldier think. "Jesus fuck she's going to torture us."

Almost immediately, as soon as the shock dropped, the large alien dropped his fist. And almost immediately, shed glanced up. Holstered her guns, reached behind her. And rolled.

Swords drawn free, she stood on her feet, holding stance as she returned her smile.

"Bit rude. Innit?"

Before sweeping the blades, slicing at his arm as she twirled. Slamming the swords to cut the pirates legs off.

"Now, who wants to surrender?"

The pirates froze, the strange alien had fought them, countered their bullets, sliced limbs and requested surrender. The translators returned the message as they dropped weapons, reinforcements copying their comrades as the crew cautiously took them hostage.

Ignoring her crew, she marched back, turning the corner before dragging a bag behind her. Several of the conscious captives now tied, they tossed a translator at her.

"Ellie. What are you doing?"

"Just gonna clear the ship."

"... Why? There's pirates-"

"..."

She stopped, freezing as she reloaded her guns. Before pulling out what looked to be a shotgun.

"... You got a radio?"

She stared at the captain of the boarding crew, tied with cuffs, he nodded his head. Amda tossing the radio to her.

"Why do you need their radio?"

"You'll see. Radios automatically translate right?"

"... Yeah?"

"ATTENTION DUMBASSES. I'VE CAPTURED YOUR BOARDING CREW, SURRENDER PEACEFULLY OR I CLEAR YOUR SHIP. OVER. "

"... Sarge? "

"Ignore the Terran. "

"... Alright."

She cocked her gun, an empty shell dropped to the ground.

"I'll see you in like. Twenty minutes."

"Ellie, what are you doing?"

"... I'm going to go clear a ship?"

"By yourself?"

"... I mean, I could try to do it without my body."

"ELLIE."

"WHAT?"

"Do you have a death wish?"

"yes."

"... That's not the right answer."

Now standing at the hole in to the pirate ship, she shouted back.

"I DON'T CARE!"

[Do I continue this?]

[maoisarap]

THANKS; no au

Mao Isara centric oneshot

WARNINGS: none.

PAIRS: ra*bits + mao (platonic)

WRITTEN: 5/1/24

REPOSTED: 25/10/24

WORD COUNT: 1k

Mao was taking a rare moment of fresh air around the schools campus, thinking of nothing, only letting his steps take him anywhere for a calm stroll around the place.

That is, until, in the corner of his peripheral vision, he sees a quadripartite sitting under a tree - actually, now that he turns his head to focus on the group some more, there was only a trio, the forth member was missing from the perimeter.

The members of Ra*bits. Under the tree sat Nazuna, Hajime, and Tomoya. He looks left and right in confusion. Where was Mitsuru?

He decides to walk up to the three. "Hey, you guys!" Mao greets the trio. The smile he wore in his greeting fell not long after once realising the gloomy aura that surrounded the three. The members of Ra*bits were frowning. They looked deflated from life.

Mao kneels down in front of them all. Tomoya was on Mao's far left, Nazuna in the middle, with Hajime clinging to Nazuna's arm on the far right. "Are you guys... okay?" He asks carefully and slow, hoping he wasn't trekking himself into any dangerous territory of some sorts.

"We have a show coming up, a one-time chance, but we don't know what to do... Mitsuru is ill - bedridden for a few months." Nazuna quietly explained, not once peeking his head up when speaking, which Mao didn't mind.

"Have you tried asking to delay the date or anything?"

Nazuna hums in response.

"They said they refuse to. It's either cancel our performance or go on without Mitsuru and ask somebody to take his place." Tomoya responds, deflating a small bit as he spoke.

Mao tilts his head in curiosity. "And... have you guys asked anyone?"

"We've asked all the idols possible, but the responses we got are all the same. Everyone is really busy at this time of the year, it seems." Hajime says.

Mao hums, leaning his chin in his right hand as he thinks the processing over for a minute or so. He looks towards the trio in the middle of his thoughts. It was clear that they didn't want to cancel - they wanted to make their friend happy whilst he's immobilised for a while.

An idea comes to mind, his kelly green eyes switching between each individual member of Ra*bits. "Are you sure you've asked 'everyone'?"

The trio then focused their attention on Mao, too. "We've tried everyone we know, even asking some other units from other schools across the country, so yeah..." Nazuna mumbles.

A playful smirk resides itself with Mao's features. "I don't think you guys have." He then focuses his attention mostly onto Tomoya. "Tomoya, you're around my height, just under, right?"

The mentioned boy nods slowly.

"Do you have a spare Ra*bits uniform?"

"I do. Why?"

Mao chuckles, the plan in his mind already beginning to set.

"Wait! Are you suggesting what I think you are?" Hajime wondered. Mao glances over and mutely nods.

"I don't get it. What are you planning, Mao?" Nazuna questioned.

"He's going to help us with our performance!" Hajime shakes Nazuna at the arm from the major excitement that suddenly ran through his figure. The other two members of Ra*bits gasp in synchronisation at the thought, finally settling into their minds.

Nazuna faced Mao once again. "Thank you, Mao!" The said older boy leapt from where he sat and tightly hugged Mao around the neck and shoulders.

"Don't thank me yet!" He chuckles whilst patting Nazuna on the back gently, partly in awkwardness. "First, you all should catch me up about your performance. What's the choreography? The lyrics? Tell me everything that you need to!"

"I've got it written down on my phone, here!" Tomoya suddenly cheered as he fished for his electronic device from his school blazer pockets.

...

For the umpteenth time in a matter of fifteen minutes, Mao wiped his long beaujolais coloured fringe out from his face, his other hand patting down on the hat that sat lightly above his head.

With looking into the full sized mirror that sat in a corner of the backstage area, Mao glances over the white cladded uniform he wore. It wasn't his usual style, but it was worth wearing if it meant helping some fellow idols — some friends — out with a major decision.

The members of Ra*bits were doing this for their fellow who was ill, hoping that the performance would encourage the healing stage for Mitsuru's sickness to work perfectly.

"Isara!"

He looks over his shoulder, seeing the trio he was just thinking about. They all wore similar smiles of hope. "You look great, Isara!" Hajime compliments him, the other two nod in agreement.

"Thank you!" He fiddles with the hat above his head once more and turns his whole figure around to fully meet the three. Mao couldn't help but smile similarly to the trio.

Tomoya walks up to Mao, handing him a microphone. "We're about to start," he mutters.

"Alright. Are you guys ready?"

The three members of Ra*bits cheer, following Mao to the sets leading to the back of the stage as soon as he starts moving along.

Faint cheers and squeals could be heard as he began to move up the steps.

"Then let's do this - for Mitsuru."

...

A smile was plastered on his face, causing his expression to glow brightly.

Mitsuru had his eyes set on his phone, and a live recording played out on his phone for the past twenty odd minutes.

The camera that the recording was set on focused on the large stage. Four figures stood out of breath whilst the audience cheered louder than ever. If he wasn't feeling so weak and ill, Mitsuru would join in on the cheer.

His eyes trail to the four on stage once more, laughing - giggling lightly - when seeing his unit mates surround a familiar student council president with tight hugs caused by the adrenaline of excite.

The group tumble to the hard panelling of the floor, his unit mates piled onto the beaujolais-haired member who belonged specifically to Trickstar. They all wore smiles of pride and success.

A small cough erupts from Mitsuru's throat, reminding him of where he was and why. But even then, he couldn't help but let his smile beam as bright as the ones on stage.

"Thank you, Isara..."

[wellthebardsdead]

Follow up from my last post here

Kaidans hiding in shame, henwens alone and heartbroken, and Taliesin takes matters into his own hands

———

Taliesin: *walking through breezehome, tidying up after the kids Henwen had taken in, trying to figure out the best way to explain to them that Kaidan is gone and might never be coming back* …

Lydia: *walks in from the market holding groceries for lunch and dinner* I’m back, any news yet from Wendy?

Taliesin: not yet but if he’s on schedule he should have arrived in Markarth by today…

Lydia: …any news on Kaidan?

Taliesin: Last I heard from inigo he was following his trail towards the rift…

Lydia: *sighs* what are we going to tell Lucia and Alesan?…

Taliesin: I’ll think of something, right now I’m just sticking with they went off on a last minute adventure…

Lydia: okay, I’ll stick to that too then. *rubs her forehead* now to figure out what I’ll tell the companions if they come knocking.

Taliesin: … *sets the broom down and pulls off his apron* I’ll be back in a minute.

Lydia: I- okay I’ll get lunch started then- *watches him walk out and sighs*

Taliesin: *hurries off down the road and up to the wind district, passing by the front entrance of jorrvaskr and running around to the back where he’ll know the twins are* Farkas! Vilkas! I need your help with something!

Vilkas: Hm? Oh you’re Wendy and Kaidans friend yeah? What is it?

Taliesin: Kaidan.

Farkas: what about Kaidan?

Taliesin: He threw a fit at Henwen because he wanted to go to Markarth to find out about his people but he didn’t want him to go because the thalmor are stationed there and he thinks wendy is still to inexperienced to travel to such a dangerous place. Now Kaidans run off sulking somewhere and Henwen is alone in Markarth.

Farkas: *sheaths his sword and looks to his brother* I’ll go to Wendy.

Vilkas: and I’ll drag Kaidan back here kicking and screaming if I have to.

Taliesin: *sighs* thank you, how much will I owe you for this-

Farkas: nothing. Henwen is our shield brother.

Vilkas: And Kaidan is our adopted brother. Frightened or no, I won’t tolerate that behaviour from him just like we wouldn’t each other. *pats taliesins shoulder* thank you for letting us know.

Taliesin: *sighs* thank you…

*Meanwhile at the border between windhelm and the rift*

Kaidan: *riding his horse along the path, stopping as he passes by a familiar crumbling stone prison across the river and waterfall* … *slides off his horse and walks over to the bank, staring at it, remembering how Henwen held him upright and helped him across the water despite being so thin and small compared to him, how he cleaned him up and tended to his wounds so selflessly by the rivers edge, how he fell in love at first sight with the sweet natured naive elf* …Wendy… *sniffles and tears up* I’m so sorry Wendy… *chokes back a sob as his horse nudges him gently*

Inigo: *silently prowling in the trees, perfectly camouflaged in the green shade despite his unusual colouring, feeling his heart break watching his friend fall to pieces over his mistake but deciding it’d be best to wait until he’s certain the swordsman will be willing to talk to him rather than just run away again* …oh Kaidan…

*Meanwhile in Markarth*

Henwen: *seated nice and pretty as calcelmo pokes and prods at him, inspecting his eyes, his teeth, plucking out his hairs, taking different samples from all parts of his body* c-can I please ask my question no-OW! *whimpers and looks at his arm to see a strange syringe like device drawing blood out from his skin* wh-what’s that for? I-it hurts.

Ondolemar: *standing idle by the three of them, arms folded* He did not consent to that.

Calcelmo: Will you go away we’re doing important work here and we don’t need the thalmor meddling with it.

Ondolemar: It’s in the thalmors best interest that I remain by his side to ensure you don’t over step. As the last known snow elf, auriels personal scribes, it’s important he is kept safe.

Henwen: I’m? The last?…

Aicantar: *looks to Henwen as he finishes extracting the blood corking the small vile* I apologise young prince but we need to make comparisons to you and the changed ones. Now what was your question?

Henwen: wh-what happened to my people and who are the changed ones? I’m- im the last? Wh-what happened to everyone else? *visibly growing distressed*

Calcelmo: *not noticing the snow elf’s shift in tone* Ah yes you mentioned being isolated for some time. *suddenly takes his hand helping him up* come let me show you how the dwemer changed your people.

Ondolemar: *already walking towards him seeing henwens distress and knowing full well this will end badly* Calcelmo don’t-

Calcelmo: Behold- *pulls a sheet off a small cage revealing a corrupted falmer inside* The falmer of our current time!

The falmer: *hisses and shrieks clawing at them through the bars, snapping at them with rotted teeth*

Henwen: *staring at it in unimaginable horror* n-no-… *goes completely limp as he faints from the shock*

Ondolemar: *catches him before he can hit the ground* I WARNED YOU CALCELMO!!! *pushes the elderly high elf away* Guards!

Thalmor Guards: yes sir?

Ondolemar: Take his belongings to his room. We’re done here for today.

Calcelmo: Now see here we still have too much to do-

Aicantar: Uncle, he’s unconscious and traumatised from what he’s just witnessed. He’s done for today… let him rest.

Ondolemar: *lifting Henwen up into his arms, holding the smaller elf with ease* you’d be smart to listen to your nephew you senile old fool. *huffs and carrys him out as the guards gather henwens bag and his spear before following after him*

Henwen: *blearily blinks awake, feeling safe as he’s held tight, remembering how Kaidan would hold him* Kai…

Ondolemar: *glances down at him not hearing what he said, just knowing he’s coming back to consciousness* shhh, it’s okay, you’re safe, you’re safe my prince…

[moriarty1234]

T*LC Refutation (but decidedly NOT johnlock refutation)

Part - 3 : Everything wrong with their versions of the words "subtext" and "symbolism".

[Note: I love and ship johnlock because I saw it for myself in the show when I watched it and was part of the general audience in the past. I even want it to become canon in some Holmes adaption in the future. But T*lc needs to get sucked into obscurity and forgotten. Other fandoms like Good Omens, etc., are following the same rhetoric in their "meta" posts, and that needs to go. This is crucial for our basic critical thinking skills and objectivity.]

Now, let's discuss about the two things t*lcers talk about the most in their posts: Subtext and Symbolism.

a.) Subtext:

Real definition of subtext: Subtext is implied text in the simplest words. Meaning, something needs to be there in the plain text for the viewer to be led to the subtextual implications of the said plain text.

This means the plain text gets the main priority all the time out of the two.

Fake (t*lc) version of the definition of subtext: An element that tells a brand new story in the background, which only a handful of people in a large audience can pick up on because they're the *experts* and everyone else is a "casual". Plain text is useless and it can burn in the trash. (though only when the plain text doesn't support t*lc).

Read this article on the hierarchy of evidence, and feel free to throw it at anyone who claims to know about something for sure, just because they're the expert in that field, next time. Huge thanks to Kim for sending me this link and discussing the whole thing with me.

Expert opinion is literally at the bottom. It doesn't count as anything if you want your college paper to get approved.

You should know that much, if you're such an expert. :P

b.) Symbolism:

In the simplest words, symbolism is the idea that things represent other things. It is used in fictional stories all the time to enhance the writing style, and to urge the audience to think deeper.

But here's the thing: "Enhance" is the key word here. You cannot tell an entire story only through symbolisms. Symbolisms and subtext are only used to highlight what's already there in the plain text.

Everyone outside the t*lc echo-chamber knows that the general audience makes up for the majority of the entire audience. Their interpretations about the source material are important. Most people aren't going to keep an eye on every single molecule of their screens on which they watch the show. And writers do need their stories to come across. If they kept narrating everything through only obscure codes and symbolisms, nobody is going to get the story. Their entire efforts would be useless.

Moreover, t*lcers don't seem to understand the difference between symbolisms and allegories, as my brilliant friend Kim pointed out.

The key difference here is that allegories are the ones that tend to have a fixed meaning in the story, when they're meant to represent something abstract.

Symbolisms, on the other hand, tend to be arbitrary in their meanings. Take the colour pink, for example. It used to represent masculinity in the Roman times. Look how the times changed, and it has become the epitome of femininity now!

Here's a more insightful take from How to Read Literature Like a Professor (a book one of the t*lc people themselves rec'ed. Apparently they cherry-picked here too) :

If something such as symbolism is so arbitrary that its meaning changes from time to time, and from person to person (indovidual opinions), do you really think it is reliable to tell an entire story? No.

That's why the literary device "symbolism" is just used to enhance what the general audience can already see in the plain text.

Most of the symbolisms these people come up with in their meta posts are not even real. They just experience patternicity and think they've figured everything out. They really haven't. And in the name of sources, they just say, "Read my meta!", or "Here, read my friend's meta," or provide any other incredibly unreliable and cherry-picked links.

Why would anyone read your meta when it's clear what you wrote is obviously coming from some sort of bias? You guys are not even consistent in your theories half of the time.

You don't even know the difference between symbolisms and allegories, or even the true meaning of subtext, given how much you keep claiming to be experts in literature and cinema.

Pulling claims out of thin air that BBC Sherlock is a slow-burn romance because the BBC station asked Moffat and Gatiss to do that, etc., doesn't help anything.

Mind you, I would've made this post even if johnlock had become canon in BBC Sherlock. A logical fallacy is still a logical fallacy, even though someone might come to the correct conclusion through it accidentally.

That's why most of the t*lc style meta posts feel weird and off-putting, even though they might look clever on the surface, because they usually tend to use a lot of fancy words.

Part-2: What's wrong with their actual meta posts?

Parts- 4 and 5: Harmful aspects of T*LC (4) and Conclusion (5).

T*LC refutation (but NOT johnlock refutation) master post.

[vancilocs]

lore dump

so yeah the royal family life wasnt super wonderful, gandr fenrir and helle’s dad the former king spent most of his youth being more involved in overseeing his lands, politics, diplomatics and doing swordplay and horseplay than have a family,

guy had multiple wives and it pretty much always ended in “my husband is always away, i have found a better husband in some noble/knight/bard/random nice townsfella” and then her and her new boo being ousted from the court and banished to live their lives in a whole another country.

then when he got to like 40 he kinda went oh shit, i need a legitimate heir (idk if he has illegitimate ones around) and started looking for a new wife but he had a bit of a reputation as a shit husband so he didn’t really find one UNTIL he came across that one woman

he beat her in a sword duel and she agreed to marry him (”i can fix him”), she was really brash and headstrong, the marriage began pretty okay even if her family was absolutely against their mid-20s daughter marrying a guy in his like 60s and it was a whole scandal to them, her side of the family always hated her husband and they never met her children

she never ended up fitting in the court, never liked the strict etiquette, didnt really appreciate the manners and how people ended up talking behind her back, she wanted more power in politics and he didnt give her that, so she ended up just mainly sitting and drinking wine and giving him three kids

gandr was welcomed well bc healthy son, cool, you’ll be king one day. he was absolutely dad’s favorite since he even resembled him more with his hair and eye colour, he could dote on the boy all he liked and taught him to be a political powerhouse, gandr was the golden boy bc he knew politics and maths and languages and manners, all the tutors for him

fenrir was at first an okay addition, definitely not dads favorite since he had moms hair and eye colour and turned out to be a difficult child in general, bad at school, had bad manners, rebellious and prone to tantrums and growing up he had to be dragged into social situations which would make him cry so he got thrown out with the bathwater especially when helle was born. never was taught good coping mechanisms so he ended up repressing/exploding, hitting things with sticks, later on drinking and disassociating

helle resembled mom more with her dark hair and she was overjoyed (as much as she could be) to have a daughter, she figured that it was enough kids and she could then devote all her time and affection to the girl, she wasnt expected to be the heir like gandr so she didnt need all the tutors, she could do basically whatever she wanted and thus spent most of her time around mom and her handmaidens doing crafts and swinging swords

so with gandr busy being tutored by dad all day and helle being doted on by mom all day fenrir was basically left to his own devices, just followed around by hood when he wasnt being rigorously trained to be gandr’s bodyguard one day. fenrirs reputation as a naughty child wasnt helped by his anxiety making him destructive and angry and running away on occasion, sneaking out to bars and getting drunk at 15 and being brought home by gandr because big bro didnt want him to get in more trouble, it wasnt a huge surprise (nor a huge loss to his parents) when he ran off to be a mercenary at like 17

gandr was his biggest supporter and defense, always making excuses for him and soothing his dad like heyyy he’s just a little birthday boyyy don’t be so hard on him, let’s go see the ledgers again for the fifth time today, he may not have understood what fenrir was dealing with but he was a solid support to him and listened and even let the kid cry which mom and dad wouldnt have let him do

the king was around 80 and on deaths door and mom was nearing 50 when fenrir got dragged back to the castle, and from him being brought in the king understood that gandr wasn’t going to recover, so he just basically opted to give up and die rather than see his other son become king, and with his death mom took it as her cue to leave the castle too to return to her homeland, she wasn’t at fenrir’s coronation and neither was she at his wedding, hasn’t met her grandchildren

dad set everything up for gandr, even picked hassaleh for him as a bride, but gandr did go the long way with courting her and if dad did one thing well, it was picking a good wife for her son because those two were madly in love and she was accepted by the people too

fenrir kinda has gandr to thank for him being more balanced because if he had just had his parents as examples he wouldnt have believed in love like that, sure with merope he didnt immediately feel that instant connection and the deep adoration hassaleh and gandr had for each other, but he knew it was possible and that he would be the best husband he could (hassaleh still being around and a tremendous support for them both helped), so they did grow into that love even if it took a looooooong time and he put in real and true effort to make her happy even if he still struggled with his own issues

(though his dad is in a weird way kinda to thank for fenrir’s successful marriage - if dad had cared about fenrir in any way, he would have picked him a wife already and would have chosen some random woman who would have gotten the kingdom some benefits, but since he didnt, fenrir was able to choose for himself and could pick a woman he already liked and grew to truly and deeply adore)

but being a dad he had to figure out for himself, he didnt know how to show affection to babies in general, much less his own (and the births being fairly traumatic for merope didn’t help, he did blame the kids for the pain she went through), and hassaleh couldn’t help with that, but in that case it was merope’s parents who aided him as much as they could, he kinda melted into showing love to the kiddos, something like holding them and kissing their head was a thing he didn’t know about but he figured it out, and now he does it even when the kiddos are adults

but it definitely shows in the way that their first one, ylva, is much more a mama’s girl, by the time aleksandros was born fenrir knew better how to show affection. also alex’s whole birth was so convoluted and dangerous (for merope too, almost goddamn died) it caused some long-term damage and he didn’t really learn how to walk until later and had some balance issues into his youth, so he did get more attention as a kid in general than ylva had, especially from dad who knew well enough what it was like to grow up with a disability, in his case pretty troublesome dyslexia (he never wanted him to feel like he was any less worthy like he had been constantly berated bc it took him a long time to learn how to read)

thankfully nepheli’s birth was remarkably easy and quick and fenrir had dealt with his issues well enough so she can be as adored from all sides as she deserves

fenrir regrets thinking about marriage and children solely as responsibilities (he HATES responsibilities) rather than things to do out of love, he understands he approached them wrong and because of that people have been hurt, but he’s talked that through with merope and these days he lets all of his children know how much he adores them

their parents are also a big reason why helle doesn’t have children, all that time with her mom made her kinda view pregnancies as punishment and she heard her mom often say how they ruined her own body, maybe mom didnt mean it that way but helle took it to say that she ruined her mom’s body, she doesnt have a massively negative view on love or relationships but she’s for sure glad she wasnt expected to find a partner like gandr and later fenrir, and definitely has never planned on having children

[first-impressions-gaming]

The Gunk

Developed by Image & Form

Published by Thunderful

Release Date 2021

Tested on Xbox Series X

MSRP 24,99 USD

Have you ever had the feeling that ‘I want to play a game right now, but it’s a bit late and I have work tomorrow morning so I’ll just chill on Youtube or watch reels on Insta’, this is the feeling I have in my guts when I am a bit overworked after a busy day at work and what I want is to unwind in a game, and I try to avoid RPGs or games with long missions. This is where The Gunk comes to rescue, it is such a chill & lay-back-on-the-couch-and-play game that you cannot go wrong with it.

What is the story of this cartoonish looking game? The Gunk tells the story of a ragtag team of space scavengers of two. Rani, that’s you, and your teammate happen to come across a long-abandoned planet which is ridden with gunk, some sort of black blob hovering around. You set your journey and remove the gunk from the planet and restore the nature as you discover and explore.

The Gunk is not a big, or lengthy game. The total playtime is around 4 to 5 hours and mind you, and the gameplay and mission sequences are linear. Actually they are not ‘missions’, it is more like you discover a new part of the planet or something unknown to you, and you go deeper and try to understand what is behind. They are more like quests and activities which are set pieces of a whole instead of separate missions. When you are on a mission, your crew mate will be talking to you remotely and this reminds me of Firewatch, where we are playing as a ranger in a distant forest and we are in touch with another ranger when we are going somewhere or checking out any irregular activities in the vicinity. 

There is one thing I am passionate about: level design. When a player plays a game, usually exceptionally-crafted level design is not appreciated, but when level design is terrible everybody complains about it. The Gunk presents this stranger planet to you as the player and to Rani and her crew mate so well that, I congratulate level design in this game. First of all, you have your hub area, where you park your spacecraft and in it you have your workbench to upgrade and improve your gear, besides this you are always on the go, visiting new locations. When you are going somewhere or simply exploring what is there, the game always leads you to the intended location. There are a few locations where you need to figure out where you should go first and what to do (such as light puzzles), levels and environments are so meticulously crafted and created that you are never lost in this stranger world. The game, as if there is an invisible guide, always instructs you to go to the main locations. Sadly, great level designs are not often encountered in gaming these days, basically developers put a gigantic and massive open-world and ‘figure it out, whatever’.

There is also another thing that caught me off-guard, there is no in-game UI. Zero. None. And I realized this after almost 2 hours in. The game is so clean and flawless that it does not need any in-game interface, there is also a couple of interaction button controls that you need to learn, and the rest is easy. There is no health, progression, XP bar or boring-looking mission arrows. On top of level design, the game is so well created that any player can pick up this game and go with the flow without further guidance.

You are equipped with a robotic arm that can scans your environment, plants and species. Upon detecting plants and material, you can collect crafting material:

There’s also light-combat, you fight with creatures that breed from the gunk, don’t expect a lot from it though, you suck these little monsters with your device and throw them to the floor and kill:

This is basically how you suck the gunk, once all the gunk in the location is removed, the environment gets restored in some way, for example the environments turns from black and white to colourful:

You also set up beacons in specific locations which allows you fast travel to your hub area and other beacon locations, honestly I don’t know how this works, my best guess is that the beacon…transports us to the set location? The game or the characters don’t explain this.

And here is the menu interface, you can see upgrades that you can do at the workbench in the spacecraft, such as sucking gunk boosts your movement speed, upgrading your overall health, jumping higher. The crafting material and discovered material and objects:

The Gunk offers a unique chill experience for everybody, and it is actually one of the most family-friendly game I played recently that I can recommend to anybody, gamer and non-gamer. The great traversal, exploring, light-combat and fascinating level design backed up with colourful and distinct locations are what make this game such a pleasant experience. 

[dearcraziness]

Chapter 52.

White fluffy snow covered the paths, trees and bushes in the area. Small flakes continued to fall from the gray swollen clouds floating across the light blue sky. Everything seemed to be listening to the magical magnificent winter: even the wind stopped raging, bringing joy to the birds flying nearby.

The friends' garden was shining, sparkling and shimmering under the rays of the sun, creating an atmosphere of celebration and comfort, while they themselves were preparing for the upcoming holidays, shared ideas about organizing certain moments, as well as expectations of an extraordinary wonderful mood.

"Dear, what do you say about your new scarf and sweater?... Do they correspond to the upcoming holidays?..."

"Of course, I really like them... Thank you for sewing them for me, fluffy..."

"I'm sincerely glad to make gifts for you with my own hands, strawberry... Perhaps I should knit gloves and a hat for you in the same New Year's style..."

"I'll also knit you a sweater, but first, I need to choose the colours..."

"I can help you in making a decision, Larry..." Bendy smiled, looking warmly and tenderly at the girl.

"I guess I know which shades will suit..."

"I'm sure you will get immaculately made clothes, because you are talented in any occupation you take on..."

"The same can be said about you, dear..."

"Thank you, tulip... By the way, do you want to decorate our studio after the completion of knitting clothes?..."

"Sure..." Lara smiled pleasantly.

"Great, th..." Bendy beamed.

The young man didn't finish his sentence because Boris interrupted him, who entered the room and said, "Hi, friends, I see you are already preparing for the holidays..."

"That's right, do you want to join?..." asked Bendy.

"Thanks for the invitation, but actually, I need help... I was going to improve the generator blocks for all the garlands that will soon appear on the walls, but I can't manage it myself today..."

"Of course I will help, together we'll finish much faster..." the imp replied, then turned to his precious one. "Sweetheart, I'll be back as soon as I'm done with the blocks, okay?..."

"Okay, meanwhile, I'll be knitting a sweater..."

"Good luck to you, love..."

Bendy and Boris, once in the corridor, headed for the Storage Room. Taking the necessary tools, they set about converting the generator. The mechanisms were surprisingly easily rebuilt to a new, more intensive work: their features didn't change to the greatest extent, but improvements were noticeable. Pals made sure of the serviceability of all the devices, the mechanic decided to leave the room and continue preparing for the holidays, when suddenly Bendy said, "I almost forgot, I have to wipe the dust here... And then I'll find suitable decorations for this room..."

"Just don't overload the room, otherwise the decorations may accidentally touch the blocks..."

"I'l carefully arrange the sets of garlands and other objects... Suppose it's time to start cleaning, or do you need help with something else?..."

"No, I don't, thank you... Since you can handle the rest yourself, I'll go?..."

"Of course, see you soon..."

The imp took a rag, but when approaching a long light yellow shelf, he found a small lever sticking out of the wall.

"Hmm, strange, what is the lever here for?... We haven't used it before..."

"That's right, I haven't seen it before..."

"Now let's see its purpose..."

Bendy pulled the lever - and the wall with the shelf moved away, leading to the door of another room. The wolf and the demon entered and saw a completely new place in front of them...

The room with light walls and wooden boxes was full of remarkable things, but it they weren't easy to approach, because the river of ink flowed and slowed down the movements.

"It's an interesting place, first we need to figure out where the ink came from and put it back in its original position; I think it leaked out of cracked pipes..." Bendy said.

"I think we should take a closer look around here..." Boris replied.

The young men found the cause of the breakdown and, after installing new pipes, continued to search for unusual objects. There were a great number of them...

"Look, Boris, there are so many garlands in boxes!..." Bendy exclaimed. "They'll look awesome in our rooms..."

"Right, I also found some interesting tools..." Boris replied. "Maybe it's convenient to use them..."

"We need to check: when the device breaks, a suitable case will appear... I'm going to create a New Year's atmosphere, will you join me?..."

"I have other plans for today, but I'll help with decorating this room..."

"Great, I think it's better to place colourful garlands along the wall, under which the pipes are located..."

The whole space was shining, shimmering with bright lights; Christmas toys brought joy and delight; shiny ribbons and tinsel gifted all the objects the atmosphere of celebration. The young men went to other rooms, wishing each other a great time and a nice day. Boris began checking the appliances in his room, and Bendy went to Lara to tell her the latest news. He came in to her: the girl was sitting at the table, leafing through a notebook with her drawings. The imp gently stroked her shoulder and asked with excitement in his voice, "Are you admiring your masterpieces, dear?..."

"Yes, but I haven't painted all of them yet..."

"Oh, Larry, but they're already remarkable and fantastic!... It's clear to see how hard you tried on each of them... You put a piece of your soul into all your creativity, remaining true to yourself and your interests, because everything created by you is so magnificent, so marvelous, so precious, so unique..."

"Your creativity is also great, Bendy... I have never seen such a style from anyone but you..."

"Thank you, honey... By the way, I was going to tell you - Boris and I have discovered a new room in the studio!... It was right behind the other wall, we just had to turn the lever..."

"How interesting... And what did you find there?..."

"Several broken pipes, which we repaired soon... And also boxes with a lot of remarkable stuff, with decorations for the holidays..."

"Great... I'll be glad see myself what objects are in that new room..."

"We'll definitely visit this place together... Darling, I guess it's time for me to go cook dinner, what dishes would you prefer to eat?..."

"Some festive..."

"With New Year's cookies for dessert?..."

"Exactly... I like ginger shortbreads with carrot cream..."

"In that case, I have to go... In a couple of hours I'll call you and our friends to the kitchen..."

"Bendy?..."

"Yes, Larry?..."

"Actually, I thought..."

"Yes, dear?..."

"Can I cook dinner with you?..."

"Of course, love!... Let's get started..."

There was an atmosphere of joy, comfort, happiness, love in the kitchen. The sweethearts found suitable dishes in the recipe book and set the table. After a while, it remained to cook delicious cookies: Bendy took out the molds, he and Lara began to lay the dough. The young man turned on the oven and placed a tray with future treats. In those minutes when the cookies began to acquire a golden crust, the devils were preparing a cream which was supposed to cover the cooked cookies. The imps gently and quickly whipped the white light mass with a whisk and after completion looked at the result. Bendy noticed a small part of the cream on Lara's hair, wiped it with his fingers and at the same time tasted the delicacy they had prepared.

"What an excellent cream turned out!... Having been on your hair, it has become even tastier and sweeter, dear..."

"And more harmful... I think you shouldn't have tried it that way..."

"Was it unpleasant for you, strawberry?... I'm sorry, I didn't mean embarrass you at all..."

"It's okay, fluffy... I kinda liked it..."

"I'm very glad, sunshine... Try the cream yourself..."

Bendy took out a spoon and handed it to Lara : she took it and, scooping up a little of the cooked mass, tasted part of it.

"Delicious... It turned out divinely..."

"And it will go perfectly with the shortbreads, right, darling?... We need to divide the cream into plates so that we add different dyes..."

"And as soon as we get the cookies, we'll decorate them..."

"By all means, sweetheart... Oh, it's almost ready... And while the treat is being prepared, let me kiss your sweet cheeks and lips..."

"I don't mind..."

"You're so fantastic, Lau..."

Bendy tilted closer to the girl's face and kissed her with tenderness and love. She smiled, and the young man, looking into her beautiful wonderful eyes, was shining with a smile. The demon took the cookies out of the oven, and the loving couple put cream on each of them. Bright little Christmas trees, snowmen, Christmas socks and hats lay on a plate, decorating the dining table. Friends gathered in the kitchen and, tasted brilliantly prepared delicious dishes, discussed plans for the coming days and went to implement them. Bendy and Lara decorated the studio for the holidays, including the garden. The beloved ones made several snowmen and, putting a scarf and a hat on them, were observing a breathtaking, magical landscape. The warm rays of the sun reflected on the crystal clear snow; fluffy clouds floated peacefully and calmly in the blue sky; bright lights on a garland illuminated the surroundings and seemed to warm them; the decorations created a festive mood and comfort outside the house and gave a special kind of beauty to the impressive garden. After returning home, the young man and the girl were drawing, solving sudoku, writing a plot for a new New Year's cartoon, then melodies of songs. Bendy and Lara were discussing ideas about their compositions.

"Lara, please tell me your attitude to such a phrase at the end: 'Fascinated, mesmerized by the beauty of your eyes,

I fervently wish that it was in my power every time

To make your dreams come true - without exceptions,

You are an inimitable ideal, you mean to me the whole world'..."

"I like it very much... You can leave it like that if you want..."

"Of course, dear, because you are satisfied with this option as well... How are things going with your marvelous song?... I was indescribably interested in the melody and the words in the first and second verse..."

"That's just, I haven't come up with the chorus yet... I want to reflect in it my attitude to our role in the fate of creatures close to us in spirit..."

"From my point of view, we influence the lives of friends to an immeasurable extent: we share our impressions, express opinions on issues important to us that encourage those who are dear to us to draw their own conclusions; creating art, we inspire others to make their own masterpieces; we strive to make each other happy with words and actions... We value our friends very much as their individuality, cherish their personality, encouraging them to further achievements... Therefore, we play a huge role in the lives of friends..."

"Perhaps I'll state my point of view in a similar way... Thank you, darling, you inspired me..."

"Don't mention it, dear, I was glad to help you... The main thing is that you know what to write about next..."

But before Lara could take a pen to express her positions on paper, Boris entered the room and, slightly spreading his hands, said, "Guys, Alice and I found new decorations in the storage room, let's go see..."

"Of course, let's see..." Bendy replied, noticing Lara's interest.

They got out and went to the place where Alice was. The girl was looking at Christmas tree toys, garlands in the form of snowflakes, coloured tinsel.

"Alice, I see you've found even more decorations for the holidays..." Boris said.

"And we'll definitely hang some of them in our room..." the angel replied.

"By all means, my dear..."

"Wow, what impressive garlands are in the boxes!..." Bendy exclaimed. "I'm sure they shine quite brightly once we turn them on..."

"And they're all quite interesting in shape..." Lara said.

"We'll take the ones which attract you more, sweetheart..."

"Hmm, the starry ones look pretty..."

"We sould also have the garlands in form of Christmas trees..."

"No one mind if they will be in our room?..." asked Lara.

"Of course not, take it... I was going to choose other decorations anyway..." Alice confirmed.

"Besides, we already have garlands..." Boris added. "By the way, what kind of plant is this?..."

The mechanic pointed to twigs with white, red berries and dark green carved leaves standing in a small transparent vase. Angel looked at them herself and smiled.

"These are mistletoe and holly - they symbolize a happy life, hope, joy... And it's commonly believed that if the lovers kiss under a sprig of mistletoe, they'll have a passionate tender love..."

"How peculiar and informative..." Boris said.

"Where did you get such facts, Alice?..."

"I read recently in a magazine..."

"In the latest issue of the magazine "Festive Mood"?..." asked Lara.

"Right, have you read it too?..."

"Not yet, but I noticed some interesting articles..."

"We'll certainly look at the topics covered in this issue, Larry..." Bendy replied. "Moreover, since it tells such a magnificent legend..."

"I think it's worth paying attention to this article..."

"And take a few twigs for yourself..." Alice held out several plants. "Let them decorate your room as well."

"Thanks..." Lara took the symbols of prosperity and faith.

"We need to figure out where to put them..." Alice looked at the mistletoe and holly.

"We definitely will, pumpkin..." Boris smiled.

"We, perhaps, will also go to arrange the scenery..." Bendy said, taking Lara's hand. "Good luck and see you soon!"

"Bye!"

The door closed, and Boris and Alice were left alone. Time flew by quite quickly, because it was easy and pleasant to bring a joyful festive atmosphere. The final touch was made up of sprigs of mistletoe and holly, which Boris fixed with a red bow on the wall.

"Dear, don't you think it's time for us to fulfill the described legend?..."

"I'll be glad, honey..."

"Well, so it goes..."

Boris leaned closer to Alice and took her by the waist with one hand, stroking her head with the other. The sweethearts merged in a long tender kiss; the branches of wonderful plants located on the wall seemed to illuminate the scene and bring positive energy into the room. Later, the mechanic and the angel gave each other gifts on the occasion of the upcoming holidays: Boris gave Alice snow glass balls with cozy houses and joyful snowmen, a set of cosmetics which she had long wanted, a necklace and earrings made of gold with rubies, while she gave him warm sweaters, a set of improvised tools and a notebook with New Year's theme.

"Thank you so much for your gifts, dear..." Boris began. "They are connected with my hobbies and interests..."

"And thank you, dear..." Alice replied. "I'm I'll find a great use for gifts..."

"I'll be glad to see what use you will find for each of them... And now - let's get down to our favorite creative things..."

"I'll be happy to draw..."

"Mutually, and after that we'll read the magazines dedicated to the holidays..."

The beloved ones spent the rest of the evening in their room, sitting at a decorated table and hugging each other tightly... The atmosphere of magic was present not only because of the bright tinsel and elegant garlands - it was in the air from the strong sincere feelings that the mechanic and the angel had for each other. Holidays, celebrations weren't the main reasons of merry vibes - the atmosphere became magical, inspiring, miraculous because of the light in the soul which was shining brightly in all friends.

At that moment, Bendy and Lara were opening boxes with surprises for each other, looking at the contents with joy and curiosity. The young man turned his gaze to the girl and, noticing the pleasant surprise in her expression, smiled very much. He moved closer to her and hugged her tightly with one arm.

"Lau, I see you are delighted with a set of colored pencils, pens and markers..."

"I also liked the new notebooks - I want to write my ideas in them..."

"We'll certainly bring our creative thoughts to life, dear... At any time convenient for you..."

"I think it's worth starting a little later... Thank you for your gifts, Bendy..."

"Everything for you, dear, I'm sincerely glad to present you with items related to your interests... Thank you for the music notebooks, coloured cups with magnificent ornaments... We'll write some tunes if we have enough inspiration..."

"I think we can... I'll take my old music notebook..."

"Oh, sunny, do you want me to share one of my own with you?... Or, you may choose several of them: they all have wonderful drawings..."

"But I gave them to you..."

"You know, I don't mind: you have the right to take any of them, I'm only happy to give the music notebooks to you..."

"I appreciate your offer, but it's better if you keep them for yourself..."

"Alright, sweetie, in that case, I'll bring the other music notebooks to you as presents... One of them will depict blue-white clouds, bright stars and lilac unicorns..."

"You guessed right, I like this cover the most..."

"And I'll definitely fulfill your wish... Speaking of gifts..."

Bendy took the sprigs of mistletoe and holly that stood in a yellow cubic vase and said, "Let me give you a kiss under the symbols of happiness and well-being, Lara..."

"Only if I can give you mine..."

Bendy leaned closer to Lara, to her mesmerizing face and, holding mistletoe and holly over them, took the girl by the waist with his other hand. She put her hands on his shoulders, the devils closed their eyes. The imps merged in a long kiss full of warm sincere feelings, hugging each other even tighter...

Bendy looked at Lara and, noticing how she looked away, asked, "Sunny, did you intend to tell me your thoughts?..."

"Let's find a new place for these plants..."

"Of course - how about a garland and red ribbons, in the middle of which there is a bow?..."

"I agree, it will just fit..."

"Besides, they will decorate the room at a sufficient distance so that we can stand under them..."

The demon secured the twigs of amazing plants, and the couple kissed again. Bendy patted Lara on the head, on the back, looking into her beautiful eyes with love and care. He understood she also felt joy and happiness at that moment.

"Larry, I'll remember these kisses for the rest of my eternal life, just like the other ones... After all, they carry well-being and comfort, leaving behind a grandiose atmosphere... However, our other joint activities also brightly illuminate the world around us..."

"I also think - the time spent together foreshadows a happy future life for us..."

"Grandiose amazing moments are waiting for us, dear, and I appreciate you also want to discover the wonders of this world together immensely... I'm eternally grateful to you for your ability to make every moment unforgettable... Remember, dear, I cherish you, your individuality, your happiness... "

[kryptonitejelly]

Flyboy (Part 2) | Jake Seresin x Reader  Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader  Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Thank you all for the love that everyone has given to Flyboy. I’m so glad that you guys are enjoying this with me <3 I was not expecting all the love, and I hope the rest of Flyboy doesn’t dissapoint.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist

(If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 2

PART 1 <<

Approximately 5.1k words

The two weeks after the day you arrive in San Diego passes in a blur. You hardly see Jake in the two weeks, but being busy doesn’t give you much time to notice his absence.

He leaves you one of his credit cards, the small rectangle placed in the middle of the small kitchen island, with a text to your phone bestowing upon you the task to “get whatever else you need to make this place liveable”. You shoot off a text with a snark about how he had only invited you here for the help, and he only responds by sending you a wink. You slip his card into your wallet, but end up pulling out your own plastic anyway. There was no need for Jake Seresin to be paying for the pastel coloured ziplock bags you decided you needed, just because they looked nice, or for the extra cushions that the sofa just had to have.

Between buying bits for the house, which truth to be told was already stocked up on the essentials, you had ended up spending a majority of the two weeks answering work calls which were essentially a cry for help, kicking off desperate stray emails that were still pinging their way into your inbox, and tying off the last of the loose ends from stragglers at work pleading with you for guidance before you powered down your laptop for good over the next few months.

“Still on that laptop? I thought you were on sabbatical.” You look up at Penny who is polishing a glass behind the bar.

“People are a pain.” You grumble back in explanation as you roll your eyes.

“Shut it off.” She places the glass on the rack above while slinging the cloth across one of her shoulders. “They’ll figure it out.”

You press send on your last email, before jabbing a thumb down on the power button, watching the device splutter to black, before you push down the screen.

“Done.”

It earns you a cheer from Penny, and her teenage daughter Amelia who looks up from her book with a toothy smile to join her mother in your celebration.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Penny asks you, her hands on her hips. “More decorating?”

“No.” You laugh, slightly sheepish. It was clear to the three of you that Jake and your house was currently, hands down, the most decorated and furnished house in the community of aviators. “They are delivering my car today.” You grin, referring to the rental you had booked.

“The car? What did you pick in the end.” Amelia drops her book onto the counter as she slides a seat down to sidle up next to you. It was something you had been agonising over the past two weeks after it had become clear that renting a car for the next few months would be a necessity. You had gotten by with hailing cabs, booking ubers, and on occasion taking Jake’s truck when he decided to carpool in with someone else, but given the distance between places here, it wasn’t always the easiest thing to do.

“The range.” You respond, and Penny groans, shaking her head.

“What happened to cruising down the beach with your top down and hair flying in the wind.”

“I live in a gated community of largely male aviators,” you say as you cram your laptop back into your bag. “Can you imagine getting a porsche? I would never actually get the chance to drive the car myself.”

“I suppose.” She sighs, defeated by the truth of your words, as you slide off the bar stool.

“I’ll borrow yours if I want an adventure.”

“Not sure you could handle her, she’s got a temper.”

“Just like her owner.” You tease, only to earn a burst of laughter from Amelia.

You hug the teenager sideways, before leaning across the counter to hug Penny before ducking out the door to search for the staff delivering your rental.

-

Jake notices the black beast of a car sitting in the driveway as he drives down the street. It’s hard to miss even in the dark, the shine of the black paint shimmering in the streetlight above. It makes him shake his head and grill as pulls his truck up behind and kills the engine.

It had been a rough two weeks, with Cyclone calling the team back in at the last minute, for an intensive break down of the uranium mission, with hours in the air running practice rounds to see how the mission could have been carried out better in anticipation of the programme that was starting the next week. That coupled with mandated training that the team had to go through before they themselves could become the trainers, had him stumbling into bed in the wee hours, and waking up against at the crack of dawn to drag himself back to TOPGUN. It was hardly the way he intended to start the 6 months, but when duty called, Jake Seresin answered.

He enters the house as quietly as he can, locking the door behind him. He unlaces and yanks off his boots, before entering the living room to find you curled up on the sofa, a heap of fluff, or a throw bunched up around your shoulders, your eyes closed, mouth slightly open, cheek pressed against a cushion with your body splayed across the length of the sofa, the television playing softly in the background.

The sight sends a warmth spreading through his chest, and he hardly realises the soft smile that has flickered onto his face as he watches you sleep, your chest rising and falling in gentle waves. It had been the first day he had come home to find you asleep on the sofa.

He smells like a day of sweat, jet fuel and dust, but he pushes that out of his mind as he bends at the waist, easily slipping a hand beneath your neck and the other under your knees. He manages to hoist you up and into his arms with ease. The movement doesn’t disturb you, which is testament to you being a deep sleeper, and his face splits into a grin as you turn your face to snuggle into his chest, cheek rubbing against the fabric of his shirt. Your nose wrinkles for a moment, as the remnant fumes of jet fuel hits you, but you bring a hand up in your slumber to rib the tip of your nose and the smell is forgotten.

You’ve gotten lighter, he notes, since the last time he has had to carry you like this - 5 months ago, on the day you had told him you and Dan had broken up, when he had plied you with enough tequila to get you crying, drunk and just wanting to go to sleep, which had resulted in him carrying you to your bed. It is he thinks, a combination of being on the mend from heartbreak, and overwork.

He manages to make his way into your bedroom to settle you on the bed before pulling the opposite side of your covers over you, wrapping you in like a human burrito.

“Jakey.” He hears you mumble as he turns to go. It makes him look down at you, only to find you still fast asleep. It puzzles him, why you would say his time old nickname in your sleep, but it also brings him a strange sense of both comfort and joy. He runs a knuckle gently down the side of your face, pushing back wisps of hair that have fanned out on your cheek.

“I miss you too darlin.” He murmurs, the words so soft he isn’t even sure he has said them.

-

Jake steps out of his room three mornings later, the smell of fresh coffee hitting his senses and it makes him pause, his hand on the door knob. Was it a burglary by the world’s friendliest - coffee and ‘hand over the goods’? He treads down the hallway, past the living room, dining area and into the kitchen where he finds you sitting on of one of the barstools, hunched over your own mug of coffee in front of you. Your eyes are hazed with sleep, hair messily piled on top of your head, body swaddled in one of his sweatshirts, paired off with a pair of pyjama shorts.

“Well would you look what the cat dragged out.”

“Good morning to you too Seresin.” You mumble, barely able to muster up the energy to return with a barb of your own. It was still dark out, your coffee yet untouched. You point wordlessly to the filled travel mug and granola bar placed on the small kitchen island beside you.

“That for me?” He asks, and you nod letting out a yawn, while propping your face up on both your palms.

He makes his way over beside you, settling sideways into the barstool on your right, an elbow on the counter of the island, knees facing your side.

“Think this belongs to me.” He tugs lightly on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. It was clear that you had gone rummaging in his closet. He only receives a slight shrug of your shoulder, you still not using words. “Go back to bed.”

“No.” Your protest sounds more like a stubborn whine, and you flap, or attempt to flap, a hand at him. You wouldn’t admit it outrightly even if he asked, but you had taken it upon yourself to drag yourself up a few minutes before he usually left for his day to pull together his coffee, because well, it had been a while since you had seen or spent any time with him.

“You’ve never been a morning person,” he reaches over for the travel mug and flips the lid open to take a sip.

You flip your left palm open to rest the full weight of your cheek on it, turning your face towards him, letting your right hand drop down to the surface of the island.

“And you’re welcome for the coffee.” Your gaze focuses on him, decked out in the khaki of his uniform with his white undershirt peeking out, face clean shaven, hair slicked back. It was hard to deny that the uniform suited him.

“Thanks,” he grins and offers you a belated thank you before taking another sip and popping the lid back on. He reaches over to grab the granola bar, picking up the travel mug along the way, before standing.

“Jake?”

He hums in acknowledgement, looking down to find your face now angled up to him.

“Fly safe.” You mumble, your voice still thick from sleep. You see him stare at you for a full three seconds, before his hand slips around your shoulders to pull you towards him. Your shoulder presses against his abdomen, and your face connects with his sternum as he holds you against him in a hug. Your hand that is at rest on the counter top instinctively moves to wrap itself around his waist, your thumb slotting itself into one of his belt loops. His hug catches you off guard, but at 5.30 in the morning you don’t have the mental facilities to overthink how domestic a morning with Jake Seresin of all people feels.

“Go,” you say against his shirt, and and you can both hear and feel the amusement in his reply as it rumbles through his chest.

“Got to let me go first sweetheart.”

“Gladly,” you want to roll your eyes, but you don’t because it is way too early. You pull yourself away from him, both elbows coming to a rest on the counter, face positioned above your still untouched cup of coffee.

Jake feels the lack of warmth against his body as you pull away, but he lets you and settles instead on flicking the messy up-do on your head before heading out into his day.

-

“It is the first weekend that you guys have been off, and the first thing you decide to do is have a barbecue with each other?” You snort in disbelief as you anchor your sunglasses on the top of your head while stepping into the store.

“Mav.” He states, as if the man’s call sign is explanation enough, and shrugs.

“Decided that he couldn’t go a day without see you lot?” You ask as you pull your phone out from your bag, searching for the message from Tash, listing out the items you both needed to procure.

“Decided that a barbecue would be a good way to meet the trainees before we start the programme next Monday.” He explains in full as he slides his own shades off, anchoring them to the front collar of his tshirt. Jake cranes his neck over your shoulder to peer at your phone. “I still don’t get why Pheonix texted you instead of me.” He grouses.

“Because Tash, knows if she leaves it to you, you’ll not turn up with half the items on the list.”

“Tash?” He raises a brow. “You guys best friends now?” He feigns mock hurt.

“The best.” You say emphasising both words, and he narrows his eyes at you, slinging an arm around your neck, pulling your head against his. Your sunglasses knock against the side of his hair and you stumble slightly, your sandals smacking against the floor.

“I didn’t bring you here to have myself replaced.”

“Then you better up your game Seresin.” You struggle fruitlessly against his hold. “Instead of trying to strangle me in the middle of goddamn public.”

“Shall we, my lady?” He releases his hold on you, and presents you with his arm instead.

“A gentleman?” You question and he sticks his arm an inch more towards you. You sigh loudly in defeat before slipping your hand through the crook his arm creates to hold onto his bicep.

“Lead the way.”

-

“Someone,” Rooster slides onto the bench beside Jake, shades covering his eyes although the sun is fast setting, “is hitting on your girl.”

Jake tears his attention away from his conversation with Payback, both men sticking their heads up like gophers in the sand, eyes searching the aviator crowd, largely comprising of trainees, that dot the beach space just beyond The Hard Deck. Jake doesn’t protest at Rooster’s use of the term “your girl”, but his eyes narrow as he spots you standing in the crowd, red solo cup in hand, your hair glinting in the soft glow of the generous string of lights dotting the space overhead.

He watches as one of the trainees, tall, dark hair, chiseled face, makes you laugh, as he shifts another inch closer to you, watches as you laugh along. The trainee says something else, and his hand reaches out to touch your elbow, and Jake’s fingers tighten around the neck of the beer bottle he has dangling from his grip.

“Aaand she’s passing over her phone,” Payback narrates the scene as it unfolds, the three men watching as the trainee takes the device from your hand and keys in a string of numbers. “And saved.” Payback finishes with a flourish as the trainee returns your phone, and you clutch it back within your grip.

“Must be tough,” Rooster claps Jake on the back and Jake grits his teeth.

“S’ not like we are together.” He mutters as he takes a swig of beer, and Payback and Rooster find themselves exchanging a glance over his head. “We’re friends.” He shrugs.

-

You are talking to Penny when you feel your phone, which is grasped in your hand that is hanging loosely by your side, tugged out.

“Penny.” The familiar drawl hits your ears and you don’t bother turning around. Instead, you raise your hand, palm upturned to ask for the return of your phone.

“Hangman,” she greets him in return before shaking her head, her lips slightly upturned, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“Asking for something?” Jake’s question rings out from behind you, your palm still upturned.

“You know what I’m asking for.”

You feel fingers sliding over your palm, coming to nestle in the space between your own, bending to settle on the back of your upturned palm, his own palm pressed against yours. It makes you whip your head up to stare at him.

“You weren’t asking for my hand?” He says, wide eyed and innocent as he tugs your combined hands down in between you.

“I was asking for my phone,” you blink as you try to free your hand from his grip, but to no luck.

“I need a drink,” he says and begins to stride towards the coolers, your hand still firmly in his. It forces you to follow along, both of you weaving through the crowd, you just a step behind him.

“You can get a drink without manhandling me.” You grumble as you both come to a stop in front of the coolers.

“This isn’t manhandling darlin,” he says as he scans the coolers before picking a beer. “It’s helping.” He tilts the bottle towards you, and tips his chin towards the bottle opener hanging by the coolers.

“Helping?” You scoff your question out as you pick up the bottle opener with your free hand and pop off the top for him.

“Helping,” he affirms and takes a gulp from the bottle. He shifts you both around to face the crowd. “To ward off unwanted attention.”

His words shift the gears in your mind and understanding dawns on you.

“Nate,” you use the name of the trainee who had slipped his number into your phone earlier on, “is not unwanted attention.”

“Isn’t Nate, a child?”

“Younger by a couple of years I think,” you shrug, you gaze darting lazily across the crowd, but not searching for anyone in particular “would make for good fun, with all the time I have.” You are half joking.

“If you wanted fun, all you had to do was ask.” He drops your hand but slides his arm around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your hip. He pulls you towards him so that your side is pressed against his. The movement makes you place your own hand on the small of his back, your face tilting up to face a lazy smirk.

“Manhandling me for the ten millionth time this trip Jake.” You push your other hand against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. You catch Penny and Mav’s darting a glance at you both from the corner of your eye.

“Darlin, you haven’t seen handling yet.” He drops the man from manhandling, both to emphasise that he means no harm, and also for innuendo. He squeezes your waist causing the fabric of your dress to scrunch up slightly, skimming an inch higher above your thigh. Your hand goes lax against his chest at the gesture. Jake had always been flirty, whether to you, the lady at the corner deli, or even the gas station attendant, it was just a part of him, and something you had gotten used to, but if the fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and beating of your heart in your chest was anything to go by, this - this felt different.

“I’ll take my chances with Nate, thank you very much.” You collect yourself, hand twisting down to the back pocket of his jeans where you pull your stolen phone out from his pocket. “Now, if you’ll let me go before you ruin my chances with any of these men.”

You both hold each others gazes, your hand now clutching your phone, brushing against the back pocket of his jeans, his hand still planted firmly on your waist.

“I’ll let you go,” he brings his face down, closer to yours, and you find yourself staring at his lips, eyes, and the soft flop of his product free hair over his forehead. “But behave.”

True to his word, he lets you go, and you clear your throat, meeting Pheonix’s eyes from across the space, she waggles her brows at you and tilts her head. You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze and a few other glances at both of you, snatching the beer bottle from Jake’s hand, and putting it to your lips. Men.

-

The rest of the night had gone by without much of a hitch, but after Jake Seresin’s little show, which Penny had informed you later that everyone had noticed, you hadn’t been approached or spoken to by anyone else apart from the core team of aviators.

You weren’t entirely sure what angle Jake was playing, but you couldn’t say you were surprised either. He had always had something to say about whatever guy you were dating, or whatever boyfriend you had at the time, but he usually had the sense to keep his opinions and actions more measured. It was strange, you had told him before, that he had any views and opinions on the matter given that Jake himself had been in a grand total of two serious relationships in his life, the last of which ended before he headed off for the Navy. Since then, he had been a casual, no-strings type of guy who settled for casual relationships that spanned weeks to a few months, or a mutually beneficial type of arrangement or understanding with whatever his flavour of the moment was. It wasn’t that he didn’t have his fair share of admirers or girls who tried to lock him in for the long run, it was just, as he had told you, he wasn’t interested in anything long term.

Lacing up your running shoes with a little more force than necessary as you think back to the night before, you follow the action by stuffing your earphones into your ears and flicking on your music from your smart watch.

-

You are on your second round around the compound when he catches up with you, falling into a comfortable pace beside you. You see his lips move, and you can make out the words from the shape of his lips, despite not being able to hear him through the music blaring in your ears - race you, if I win you delete Nate’s number. He holds up 4 fingers, to indicate four rounds around the compound, and takes off with a bound in his step, not waiting for you to follow.

-

You manage to match his pace, but barely and not with the ease at which he is running, something which you aren’t all too surprised by. You aren’t a teenager anymore, and being one of the best pilots requires a certain level of fitness. You both see your house in sight, and he grins at you before sprinting off. You try your best, legs moving, arms pumping, to catch up with him, but he soars easily across the invisible finish line before you and jogs a circle before coming to a halt. You on the other hand, sprint past the line, and collapse onto the driveway.

“Not fair.” You manage to gasp out as you rip your earphones from your ears, your words coming out in short fast pants. “You’re fit, and started two rounds later.”

“You should have just run faster.” He says and tugs his shirt off his head before falling into a seated position, legs spread out in front of him, on the driveway beside you.

“I was running fast.” You shoot daggers at him from your eyes, sweat trickling down the sides of your temples. “Can’t you see my sweat?” You gesture to your face, and he throws you a look and laughs.

“A deal’s a deal.” He grins as he turns his face back up to the sky, shuttering his eyes as he lets the sun bask down on him, causing the sheen of sweat on his face and body to glow.

“I made no deal.” You tug at your shirt which sticks to your body with sweat.

“Hand it over.”

“I don’t have my phone with me.”

He looks back down to you, eyes squinting in the sunlight.

“It’s alright, we’ll get to it later.”

You roll your eyes, and both of you fall silent, basking in the rays of the sun.

-

“You know,” you say as you climb into the passenger’s seat of your car before shutting the door behind you. “You could pass off as a dad with three kids.”

Jake gives you a puzzled look, and you gesture around you. You had both decided to go out for a Sunday brunch after the early morning torture run which your jog had morphed into.

“It’s the car, it’s got the dad with kids vibes going for you.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, but ignores your comment, sticking out his palm in front of your face.

“What?” You ask.

“Phone.” He responds, and you shake your head no. “We raced, I won.”

“You’re a bully.” You ignore his hand and buckle yourself into the seat.

“I’ll help myself.” He warns, and you sigh before pulling your phone from your bag and dumping it in his hand.

He makes quick work of unlocking it, and deleting Nate’s number before passing it back to you.

“Done.”

“Bully.” You mumble as he shifts the car out of park and backs out of the driveway.

-

“Honey I’m home.” You hear the voice break through the silence, and you identify it as Rooster.

“Bradley.” You greet, using his actual name, as the moustached man walks in, grinning from ear to ear.

“Always wanted to try that out and see how it sounds.” He says.

It earns him a smack on the back of his head from Jake who walks in after him, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Bob and Pheonix following behind. “Then find a wife.”

“Trace is available.” Fanboy smirks as he nudges Phoenix forward, which causes her ears to tinge with pink. You hide your smile as you busy yourself with pulling out plates from the cupboard. Tash’s not so subtle crush on Rooster had been obvious to you and anyone around you from day 1, and if your hunch was anything to go by, Rooster shared the same sentiments.

“Fuck off Fanboy.” Tash pushes him out of her way as she comes up behind you to gather cutlery.

The rest, still joking, fall into line, each gathering the various utensils and dishes off the counter and stove, before filtering into the dining room. With the trainees in, their programme had slowed down considerably, being the ones to help with doling out the train still meant early starts to the day, but it also meant early ends to their day. It had become a routine of sorts that had started with Tash coming over to join you for dinner, which had to include Jake because he lived here, and you were soon joined by Rooster and Bob who had heard from Tash, Coyote who had heard from Jake, Payback who had heard from Rooster and Fanboy who had heard from Payback. Before you knew it, they were wiring you money for grocery expenses and you had somehow become the designated dinner chef of the group. You didn’t mind however, because they chipped in to help clean up, after which majority of the time, you would all pile into a car or two and drive off to The Hard Deck.

“How was the day?” You ask to no one in particular when you are all settled around the table, each passing along the trays of food.

“Your toyboy messed up today.” Coyote says as he passes on a plate of roast potatoes.

“Toyboy?”

“Nate.” Tash explains to you, none of them aware that you never reached out to him because you were made to delete his number from your phone - something that you honestly weren’t too bothered about, despite what you let Jake think.

“Someone here made him hammer out 300 push ups.” Payback scoops up a handful of carrots before passing the tray down the table, his eyes shooting towards Jake.

“That’s mean.” You say as you scoop a spoon of potatoes onto your own plate.

“I’ll say.” Rooster.

“He’ll thank me for better arms and a chest.” Is all Jake offers as he spears a piece of chicken onto your plate, and then his.

-

“See you guys.” You call out, waving a hand up in the arm to the group disappearing down the street, each heading back to their own houses.

“Tomorrow!” You hear Tash shout back and you blow her a kiss before locking the door behind you. The group had made a collective decision to sit out going to The Hard Deck tonight, a combination of being both stuffed and lazy.

You hear your phone ring, the accompanying vibration buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out swiping across to answer and put it to your ear.

“You haven’t forgotten my wedding is next weekend have you.” Annie, one of your closer friends from work’s voice crackles across the line.

“Hello to you too, and no I haven’t forgotten.” You walk back into the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear, to find Jake cracking open a can of soda. He looks at you questioningly before leaning over the counter.

“You are bringing a plus one are you?” She asks, and you frown slightly, you had returned to invite 8 months ago when you and Dan were still together.

“A plus one,” you echo out.

“Please tell me you’ve found one, remember when we talked about this at lunch and you said you would. My mother in law will go insane if I change the seating charts again.”

“I’ll bring one.” You confirm as you eye Jake who is sipping out of the can, still looking at you questioningly.

“Great, you’re the best.” You can hear her sigh of relief, and you chuckle, if the stories she had told were anything to go buy, Annie’s mother in law was the mother in law from hell. “By the way,” she starts up again and you hum in question, “I thought you should know, Dan is coming as Lexi’s plus one.”

“I see…” you trail off as she breaks the news to you.

“I didn’t know they were a thing.”

“Well, as we’ve established, there’s a lot no one knows about Dan.” You grumble out, and you see Jake straighten up, brows knotting into a deep frown at the mention of the name Dan.

“Well alright, I’ll see you next weekend. Please make sure you get me drunk.”

“I’m not sure your mother in law would be too happy about that.” You laugh into the phone as you both bid each other goodbye before hanging up.

“What about Dan?” Jake’s focuses in on you the moment the phone drops from your ear. “Please tell me you aren’t seeing that son of a bitch again.”

“My friend from work, Annie, she’s getting married next weekend. It’s back out in New York. Dan’s going.” You shrug.

“Then I’m going.” He says immediately, his chest puffing out slightly, stance changing to protective.

“Well guess it’s a good thing that I’ve room for a plus one. It’s on Saturday, but I have to be there on Friday to help out at the rehersal.”

“I’ll take the Thursday, Friday and Monday off.” He commits instantly, easily, without a beat, faster than any one of your past boyfriends had ever committed to anything, and you nod, finding yourself thinking thank god for Jake Seresin.

>> PART 3

-

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Lovers Lake

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.5k] prompts: "don't you ever do that again!" "If you die, I'm gonna kill you" and "I’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you." Injured Steve, hurt/comfort, front seat hugs.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” 

Your voice sounded wrecked, tears scratching at your throat, horror and anxiety clawing at your chest and it had been for the best part of the night. Steve had the right to look regretful, one side of his face bruised and bloody, his lip split and a small gash on his arm that looked painful. His shirt was dirty, ripped and stained with blood, his and something else’s a darker, blacker colour that looked nightmarish. 

“Baby, I-”

“Don’t ‘baby’, me Harrington, I swear to god,” you stumbled over your words, trying to find the right threat for your boyfriend, but it all felt too raw. You blinked back tears, throwing a hand to your car that had been sitting at the edge of Lovers Lake for an hour. “Get in the car, all of you, Jesus Christ.”

-------

Max had called you after she’d slipped out of the Sinclairs home and away from the police. Lucas and Dustin had followed, bikes left on the sidewalk as they fought their way into a phonebooth, all elbows and yelling. She’d dialled your number, got it wrong once, Dustin accidentally hit redial the second, and on the third attempt, she yelled down the phone to you, voice crackling about Steve and Eddie, Lovers Lake and a boat, Robin and Nancy, a gate, Steve, underwater, The Upside Down, Steve.

You were in the car before the call had even ended, frantically asking Max where you needed to go, receiver swinging on its cord as you shoved your bare feet into some converse, your pyjama shorts and one of Steve’s sweaters the only things protecting you from the cooler night air. 

Lovers Lake, the redhead had told you. She wasn’t sure how they were getting the four out, they didn’t have a plan, not yet. But Max had whispered down the call to you, Dustin and Lucas tense and quiet beside her, that she knew you’d want to be there when Steve came out. 

She was right, the young girl always was, but without any knowledge of your boyfriend's whereabouts, his safety or even a walkie talkie, you were in the dark. Steve had told you that they were just going out to test a theory, to check on something that Dustin had suggested. You had just come home from work, uniform still on, eyes tired and Steve had immediately squashed any suggestion you had of coming with them.

It wouldn't take long, he had told you, it wasn’t anything to worry about, he had said. The boy had left you with a press of his lips to yours and a promise that he’d be crawling back through your bedroom window before you knew it. 

You wanted to kick something. You couldn't sit still, your foot jumping on the car floor, your fingers tapping at the wheel, your engine off and the cold seeping in. But you stepped out, ankles damp as you stood in the grass, evening dew soaking your skin.

The lake was still, glasslike and there was a haze across its surface, one lone rowboat that sat empty in the middle of it, mocking. You crossed your arms, bit at your nails, tugged at your shorts, but they still didn’t appear. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, not really. A break in the water, a wave, a glow from the lake floor, a whirlpool. Anything. It was too quiet, the woods dark and empty, the lake deep and formidable. 

You stood at the edge, staring into the water until your eyes went a little fuzzy and the minutes turned to hours. You ached for the static of a walkie talkie, the stupid device that Dustin was always thrusting into your hands but you couldn’t remember where you’d left it, Steve’s car, Max’s bag, Nancy’s basement, you weren’t sure. Tears pricked at your eyes, hot and helpless, angering you and fuelling your frustration. 

Another twenty minutes had passed before you heard movement from behind you, figures moving through the dark, a lone flashlight sending out a beam of bright white. You saw curls, a hat, Dustin, a flash of red, Max, taller figures, dirty faces, blood and then a bare chest, a bandage, and then arms around you. 

The anger and fear that had chilled your bones dissipated at the touch, the tension flooding from you as your body warmed with relief. You pressed your nose into the boy’s neck, one of his hands cupping your head, tangling in your hair. Steve was murmuring to you, nonsensical affection that sounded like a lot of apologies, soft and soothing. 

When you were suitably sure that your boyfriend was alive and well - or at least standing on his own two feet - you planted your hands on his chest pushing until he stepped back, your eyes on his, flashing hot and still filled with the tears that were finally spilling over. 

“You promised me,” you accused, trying to sound angry but your voice shook and quivered. It was suddenly hard to swallow and you swiped angrily and your cheeks, heat flushing through you. “You told me you were just checking something, Steve! Not taking a deep dive into another fucking dimension!”

Nancy and Robin looked like they wanted to reach out to you, expressions soft and understanding, if not a little guilty, but they stepped back, knowing well enough now that it was best to leave you and Steve alone. They gathered the youngest of you, their arms around the three kids as they led them to the water's edge and out of earshot, Eddie following with an awkward look on his face. 

“If it’s any consolation, Princess,” he told you, eyes wary, “we didn’t really have much choice in the matter.”

You stared at him, incredulous, before rounding back to Steve, your boyfriend rubbing his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose at the boy’s admission, knowing it wasn’t the right time to be explaining what had happened. 

“I’m sorry?” You deadpanned, “What? Were you all pulled under by some mythical lake monster?”

Robin winced as Eddie opened his mouth again, an almost smile on his face, finding the small amount of humour that he could despite the situation. 

“Not all of us,” he told you, a hand on your shoulder as he passed, as if it was supposed to be comforting, “just Harrington. The rest of us went willingly…” Eddie scowled when Robin coughed, covering a laugh. “Kinda.”

Your eyes were back on Steve, wide and horrified at the thought, anger bubbling at the way Steve had his head tipped back, gaze on the branches above, very much avoiding eye contact with you. “Are you kidding me?” You asked him, watching as he finally met your stare, expression forlorn, hand reaching out to you. “You told me I didn’t have anything to worry about! Now there’s lake Demogorgons too?”

“Sweetheart, look, I know but we didn’t-”

“Don’t forget to tell her about the bats!” 

“Oh my god, Munson!” Steve barked out, making Lucas and Dustin jump, “shut the fuck up, please!”

Everyone fell silent, the darkness swallowing everything around you, but Steve’s hand found yours, soft and pleading as he uncrossed your arms, bringing you into him. His fingers gripped gentle at your chin, tilting your head until you gave in and met his gaze, cheeks streaked with tears and an expression on your face that broke his heart. 

“Bats?” you asked, lip wobbling and your eyes dropped to the bloodied scrap that was wrapped around his side. “Do I even wanna know?”

Steve sighed, thumb pushing at your cheek affectionately, wiping away the tear that was still tracking its way down to the curve of your lip. You heard the others whisper from behind you, talking about things that you didn’t really know about yet, the dangers they faced while you sat in the safety of your bedroom. You felt a little sick, torn apart with too many emotions; frustration, worry, anger, guilt, fear. 

You knew it wasn’t Steve’s fault, you did. You were just overwhelmed, the news of another dimension and monsters that were supposed to only live in your imagination still very fresh to you, Steve adamant that no one from the gang was telling you anything about it until they had to. Almost a year you were kept in the dark, Hawkins relatively peaceful and Steve out of harm's way until something bigger came along, something that broke bones and ripped people apart, invading their darkest memories and leaving Hawkins police force confused and terrified.

Steve told you then, in the Wheeler’s basement with everyone gathered around you, ready to answer any questions you had. And when you finally went home with Steve that night, you hardly slept but the boy held you close, a hand soothing over your hair as he told you that he’d never let anything happen to you.

You just wished you were well equipped enough to be able to promise him the same thing. But you didn’t really know what you were dealing with, what actually lurked underneath Hawkins. You didn’t know how to protect Steve, if you even could. 

And now, he was standing in front of you, Eddie Munson’s denim vest barely covering the extent of whatever injuries he’d suffered and your friends were talking about demon bats. 

Eddie thought he was still helping, he really did, but when he opened his mouth for a third time, explaining how your boyfriend was the man of the hour, offering himself up to be the one that took a solo dive to the bottom of lake in search for the gate, well, it didn’t get him the reaction he was looking for. 

Robin groaned, hands cast up in the air as she rolled her eyes at the boy, Max wincing and Nancy calling out to you with a voice that was laced with concern.

“I tried to stop him, I really did, I’m sorry!”

But your gaze was still on Steve, his lips lifting up in a tragic attempt at a smile. His hands squeezed at your waist, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly, a little nervous about your reaction. Your cheeks were already flushed, your lips pushed and twisted into a pout as you tried to contain your emotions, everything suddenly became too much.

“I’m alive, right?” he tried, voice lighthearted and if you weren’t already aware of his injuries, you would’ve pushed him away. 

“Don’t you ever do that again!”

--------

The ride home was silent. 

After you’d ordered everyone into the car, they’d moved quickly and silently, not willing to argue with you. Eddie, Nancy and Robin squeezed themselves into the back seats, eyes worried and still set on you as you opened the trunk for the kids, shoving jackets and an old blanket out of the way so they could clamber in. 

Steve had waited until you stomped to the driver's door, his arms resting on the roof so he could look over the top of the car at you. You’d met his gaze, eyes still brimming with tears and you sniffed once, suddenly feeling an overwhelming guilt wrecking your chest as you took in his bruised and bloody face. 

His expression was soft as he looked at you, lips parted as if he was about to say something else but you shook your head, not unkind, before telling him, ‘not here’, and climbing into the car.

You dropped everyone off one by one, bodies slow and tired as they pulled themself out of their seats, eyes tired and voices thankful as they said their goodnights, promising to check in tomorrow morning. 

Steve didn’t question it when you drove him to your house, head tilted back on the seat, face turned to you so he could watch the streetlights flicker over your features. You looked so sad and he hated it, wished he could fix it. But your eyes were still glassy and your knuckles were tight over the steering wheel.

So he didn’t speak, not yet, he just simply pushed his palm over your bare leg, above your knee and over the soft of your thigh, squeezing gently. A small noise escaped your throat, through your lips like a sigh, a cry and Steve soothed you, soft sounds murmured into the cabin of the car and you tried so hard to keep the tears from falling.

You managed to pull into your empty driveway, your parents out of town for the night, some overnight stay in Martinsville after a concert. You felt that painful pull at your chest, your breath catching and stuttering before a small sob ripped out.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” you tried to explain, hiccups interrupting each word, “I thought I wasn’t gonna get to see you again… and you promised!” 

You’d barely finished talking before Steve was unclipping his seatbelt and yours, gathering your hands into his own and pulling them away from where you were pressing them into your cheeks, eyes wide. 

“Hey, hey, shhh, I got you,” your boyfriend pulled at you gently, coaxing you to meet him across the console, one hand cupping your cheek, rubbing away the tears there. “I know, it’s okay, I’m okay, I’m sorry baby, m’so sorry.”

You turned into his touch, pressing your nose and lips into his large palm, relishing in the warm feel of him. You tasted salt on your lips and your breath stuttered another once, twice before you gazed up at the boy, blinking through long, wet lashes that clung together. 

“You promised you’d come back, that you’d be crawling through my window.”

Steve pressed his lips together, brows drawn in as he moved closer to you, side sore from pressing into the gearshift but he wasn’t happy until his forehead was pressed to yours, noses bumping, lips pressing into any piece of skin that he could reach.

He dropped kisses to your cheeks, the apple of them, your nose, forehead, over your eyelids when you blinked at him, tears still falling. His hand smoothed back your hair, sticky on your skin from crying, cheeks flushed with it all. 

“I know, I know,” Steve hushed, voice barely a whisper as he spoke into your temple, lips pushed into your skin, brushed kisses with every word he said. “I would’ve come back, I would’ve, I promised.”

He pulled away a little, just enough to cup your face with both of his hands, thumbs soothing over your cheekbones and he ducked his head when you tried to look away, suddenly embarrassed at your outburst, but he caught your gaze with his own, thumb pushing at your chin a little, holding you.

“Sweetheart,” Steve pressed, voice tender as he tried his best to calm you, “please believe me when I tell you, I’d spend a thousand fuckin’ lifetimes, millions, comin’ back to you.” You looked at him, lips pouted, doe eyes glassy. “You know that right? I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

You nodded, shuffling closer, as close as you could in the car seats, bringing your hands to the nape of his neck and tangling your hands in his hair, sighing softly when he opened his arms for you. You pushed your face into the familiar spot on his neck, nose pushed into the crook of it, pulse beating steadily underneath you and you pushed your lips there.

Steve wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you a little until you were on his lap, your muddy feet digging into your own seat but you didn’t care, happy to be in your boyfriend's arms. You felt him tense and you made a noise of protest, trying to wiggle away from where he was holding you into his chest, suddenly so aware of the blood that painted his side. 

“I’m hurting you,” you exclaimed, hands on his shoulders to push yourself back from leaning on him, but he tutted, arms on your waist, pulling you back in. 

“I’m fine babe, just c’mere, I need a hug, that’s all.”

You sighed, a happy sound that you pressed into his chest, head buried against him and you took the opportunity to run gentle fingers over his ribs, the edge of the bandage and you winced at the angry shade of red that seemed to seep out from underneath it. You moved to face the boy, hand cupping his jaw, thumb pushed into his chin, bumping at the pouty curve of his bottom lip and you searched his eyes for any sign of discomfort. 

“Are you okay?” You felt awful that it had taken you this long to ask him, guilt and shame ripping at your insides but your head had only just stopped spinning now that you could feel Steve alive and warm against you. 

He nodded, catching your thumb with his lips, pressing a kiss to the pad of it whilst never breaking eye contact. His hands were warm and wide on your sides, pushing up your sweater - his sweater - fingers and palms pressing into your skin.

“Promise?”

“I promise I’m okay,” Steve assured you, but he winced when he shifted against the seat, “a few scratches that need cleaned up m’sure, but you’ll help me, right?”

You melted into him, nodding, feeling like you were falling apart again, just a little, because you both made a sound of surprise when you pressed your mouth to his, lips desperate and panicked, as if he was going to get up and leave you again. 

But Steve pressed himself into you with the same urgency, hand dropping to your thigh, thumb pressed high onto the inside of it, lips parting under yours and tongue licking into you. You both stayed like that for a while, maybe a few minutes, maybe thirty but when you broke apart, you were still in the front seat of your car, sideways on the boy’s lap and both of your lips were kiss bitten, chests heaving a little faster than before.

It had started raining, the small, soft pattering of water against the windscreen going unnoticed as you pressed yourself into Steve, but it had soon turned heavier, fat droplets falling from the sky and creating an uneven symphony on the car roof.

You smiled when Steve pressed one last kiss to your cheek, nose rubbing against the tip of yours and he smiled back, soft and a little lovesick, tiredness creeping into both of your bones. It was late, the town quiet and sleepy and the rain was falling lazily, rolling slowly down the windows. It made you want your bed, legs bare and tangled with Steve's arms around you and your fingers twisted in his hair. 

“Let’s get you sorted, huh?” You whispered, voice a little husky from crying and kissing, and you moved carefully from Steve’s lap, fumbling with your keys as he followed you to your front door, crowding you into the wood as he dropped distracting kisses across the back of your neck. 

You made him lean against the edge of the bathroom sink, first aid kit on the counter top and apologies were tumbling from your lips as you pressed a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic, pushing kisses to the corner of his mouth as a sorry as you went. Steve held you as you wrapped a fresh bandage around him, hands gentle on his skin, palms soothing over his ribs and he sighed heavily when you were done, leaning his head on top of yours as he whispered how thankful he was, how sorry he was that you had to do that for him, see those marks on him. 

“Better?” you asked as you lay in bed together, comforter bundled around you both as Steve pulled you into his arms.

He nodded, lips pressed to your forehead and hands running up and down the length of your back, fingers dancing underneath your sleep shirt and making shivers appear across your skin. “No more being a hero, Harrington, please,” you whispered into his chest, lips grazing his skin and he huffed out a laugh into your hair, tugging you closer still until your arms were wound around his neck, nose to nose. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he told you, voice warm and rough with sleep.

“‘Cause if you die, I’ll kill you,” you promised him, your threat empty and lacking the force and heat it needed, ‘cause the boy just laughed, a low sound that made your toes curl and your body warm. 

“I’m sure you will,” he mused and you tried to frown at his blatant making fun of you but he kissed it away, lips and tongue pressing into you one more time, a little soft, a little dirty until he was pressing you back into your pillow and telling you to sleep.

Steve fell quickly, soft sounds huffing from his parted lips, hair mussed and face starting to bruise but you couldn't settle until watched the way his chest rose and fell a few times, the movement hypnotising and you confirmed that was indeed, real and solid and alive underneath your touch.

You ran a hand across his chest from where you lay by his side, perfectly tucked into the crook of his arm, cheek pressed to his shoulder and you felt for his heart, eyes pulling heavy at the gentle and steady thump of it. 

[nhstadler]

A/N: I hope you’re up for some moody James S. P.. I actually wrote this bit before I wrote the scene in James’s bedroom on New Year’s Eve. I needed to figure out his motivation and thoughts and I can only do that by writing stuff down.

I did make some adjustments because there were some things in there that would have been spoilers for the main story. It’s a bit messy but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. (This takes place at the end of chapter 26)

W H I T E S   A N D   G R E Y S   A N D   P A L E   B L U E S

The glass is cold against my skin. It’s not exactly pleasant, but there is some comfort in it; in the blur of whites and greys and pale blues that passes by the window, like one of those depressing oil paintings Aunt Hermione spends hours in front at the British Museum. I watch the colours bleed into each other as the train picks up speed, taking us through mountains and valleys and forests - through the middle of nowhere. 

I’m not used to this; to having no control over myself - over whatever it is that she’s doing to me - and it’s absolutely terrifying. I fell off my broom once when I was thirteen, practising the surf-jump in our backyard, and I remember that, even as I knew I was going to hit the ground and that it was going to hurt, I wasn’t afraid. 

I broke four bones and Lilly was crying and Mum was shouting and Dad was freaking out and I still wasn’t afraid. But Seth Woodley scares the shit out of me.

Maybe it’s a good thing that she hates me now.

“Yo, James!” 

A paper ball hits my chest and I turn my head away from the window, letting it fall against the upholstered backrest. We’re only one hour into the journey and our compartment is already a mess; bits of crisps and wrapping papers coat the floor and a random snitch is hovering above our heads, thunking stupidly against the glass in regular intervals like it might yet escape. It’s annoying and I wonder how Augustus can sleep like this. He has rolled up into a tight ball in the corner as soon as we were out of London, only stirring occasionally to pull up his coat which he has draped over himself like a make-shift blanket.

“So?” Benji asks like I’m supposed to know what he’s talking about, and I frown at him as I try to pretend that I haven’t just been staring out the window like a brooding teenage vampire.

“What?”

“That Ravenclaw sixth year.” He’s slouched down in his seat, sorting out his static hair and barely registering that Freddie almost chokes on his mouthful of cola. "Are you a thing?”

It’s an innocent enough question - casual, really - but it feels like my heart spasms for a moment when I think about the crumpled red dress on the floor; about Seth in my bed. “No.”

Freddie makes a throaty sort of noise next to me but I fully ignore him. He doesn’t push it, though, because he knows. Because I can’t do this. Because she didn’t mean it. Not really. 

I thought she might. For a delusional moment I let myself believe that she might actually want me. But she was drunk and upset and her family just told her that they’d found her a husband. I’m a fucking plot device, nothing more. 

“Why?”

Benji shrugs, then yawns and sinks still deeper into his seat before pulling a chocolate frog box out of his pocket. “Just curious. She’s fit, though.” 

I watch him idly unwrap the sweet that wriggles ferociously in his grasp and then pop it into his mouth before studying the card that fell out of the packaging.

“I’ve got your Dad. Again,” he says, flipping the card around in his hand so that I can see the image. The slightly younger version of Dad frowns at me, arms crossed in front of his chest and wand in hand. I can vaguely remember how they had him dress up for this in fancy robes and how proud I was that my dad was going to be on the chocolate frog cards.

“Oh, give me that.” Freddie leans across the compartment, snatching the card from Benji’s hand, and I frown at him. It’s not like Dad isn’t in every second of these.

“What for?”

“I’ve been collecting them.” He shrugs, the usual mischievous grin in place. “I’m making a collage for Uncle Harry’s birthday… to hang up in his office.”

He’s not even joking and I snort and shake my head as he carefully slides the card between the pages of his Divination book. “Oh, he’ll love that.”

The train rattles and the snitch bumps against the roof of the compartment like a disoriented bird. There’s fog outside now, clinging to the soft curves of the hilly landscape, and I let my head drop back against the window again, trying to focus on the view. I don’t want to think about her anymore; about the phone box, and her freckles, and what it did to me when she called me James. 

This just won’t end well. For neither of us.

Freddie’s shoulder bumps softly against mine and I turn my head to look at him. Across from us, Benji has fallen asleep as well with his arms crossed in front of him and the empty chocolate frog wrapper on his stomach.

“Do you know what I think?” Freddie whispers and I roll my eyes at him because, of course, I know. He’s been relentless ever since I told him about almost kissing Seth at Slughorn’s Christmas party.

“I do. And you’re wrong.”

“I rarely am,” he says, shrugging, and I snort and shake my head. 

“Bullshit.” My voice comes out a little too loud and Augustus stirs in his foetal position, almost falling off the seat.

“Then say it.” 

“What?” I try to laugh but it sounds fake, even to my own ears, and Freddie sighs.

“Mate, look me in the eye and tell me that you’re not in love with Seth Woodley.”

I’m shaking my head again, but I can’t look at Freddie. Instead, I look up at the snitch which has resumed its futile fight against the window, tapping the glass in a steady rhythm now. It’s pathetic, really. And a little sad. 

“This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Freddie arches an eyebrow at me but I ignore him. Because this is complete nonsense. Because he doesn’t understand. Because I’m not in love with Woodley.

I’m not. 

I can’t be.

“Fuck this,” I growl and push myself up, catching the dumb snitch in mid-air before it can throw itself against the glass again. It’s still flapping in my palm - frantically - its silver wings scratching my skin like a feral cat, and I press my fingers against it a little harder until it finally gives up. Until it goes completely still.