#I think I addressed the second half of your ask but it's mostly a reply to the first lol

[eirikrjs]

So with Kaneko back to doing stuff for the industry (as offhandedly as he is, and as nefarious the projects he became associated with are) would you expect to see him credited in an Atlus title at any point in the future? I think I know the answer already, so I guess what I mean to ask is more on the lines of, is the approach Atlus currently takes to its subject matters fundamentally incompatible with what artists like Kaneko were trying to achieve and express? What do you think of this disconnect, if so?

Kaneko ain't doing stuff with Atlus anymore. He'll still be credited for legacy demon designs, though.

Atlus has a well-oiled art machine now:

Soejima & his persona team artists that emulate his style, for the "prestige" products (Metaphor and Persona)

Whatever "Atlus Art Team" is at this point

Doi for SMT and possibly other non-prestige products (new spinoffs that don't exist and may never exist)

Contract artists for low tier games they have little faith in (Soul Hackers 2)

So yeah, I just don't think Kaneko really had a niche at the company anymore ("product" is a key word here). He was simply no longer needed and his style has never been very marketable.

Kaneko unfortunately became the kooky old guy who should've just retired, but didn't, and is now looking desperate and/or out-of-touch by chasing embarrassing trends.

I would wager he would refuse to do more work for Atlus, not out of bad blood, but because he considers it part of his past. He's literally moved on. The only consolation prize we get is that we will get to see new Kaneko art for Colopl, for whatever that's worth.

...Merry Christmas?

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[greatestexpectationss]

A Quiet Moment

Luke Castellan x Fem!Daughter of Persephone Reader

Description: You and Luke get a rare quiet moment in Cabin 11 accompanied by some troubling thoughts. Luke's always there to make you feel better and you know him better than anyone else.

Can be read as a stand-alone or part 2 to Poison Ivy

Warnings: mentions of alcoholism, mentions of mental health (season depression), making out, I think thats it?? Also not edited sorry!!!!!!!

“Luke, this is not good,” you’re pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. The cabin is in total disarray, you’d left Luke and a majority of other campers there to begin to clean it while you helped the Demeter kids in the Strawberry fields. You’d come back to, though a smaller mess, a mess nevertheless. 

 Cabin inspections are later tomorrow afternoon, and you can already tell the Hermes cabin is so totally screwed. Cabin 11 is chaotic as always, to be fair it isn’t Luke’s fault, Hermes houses his children, unclaimed children, and minor gods' children alike. As a child of Persephone, you’ve only ever known the Hermes cabin as home other than the few nights you’ve spent in the Demeter cabin with your friend Katie, you fit in there as a child of Persephone and your power of chlorekensis makes you fit right in. Chiron in a desperate attempt to make more room in the Hermes had asked you if you’d like to move into the Demeter cabin permanently. You’d told him no, Luke needed your help managing the campers, but you’re sorely regretting it now. 

Your boyfriend pouts at you from his bunk where he’d collapse in exasperated exhaustion just moments before you’d return. “This whole thing is rigged, how’re we expected to be clean, we’ve got like triple the campers?” he groans. Then he sits up on his elbows eyeing you up and down. You’ve discarded your camp half-blood t-shirt and are left in your forest green spaghetti strap and dark denim shorts. He smiles like he’s won the whole damn lottery. You're exasperated resolve melts a bit when he speaks again.

“You look pretty,” he compliments you. You smile, blush, and roll your eyes before collapsing on his bunk beside him, ignoring the campers scurrying around you to get to their activities and clean up their own messes. 

“Thank you,” you whisper as he reaches over and moves a piece of hair out of your face. “Anytime Poison,” he replies, a cheeky smile on his face. Then as if remembering something he sits up and addresses the few campers that are still scrambling about the cabin, “Go enjoy the rest of your free time, we’ll take care of the rest of the damage in the morning.” They all cheer and thank him, but you know this was just a clever ploy for Luke to get the cabin empty for a second. 

“How was your day?” you ask him, sitting up and sitting crisscross on his bed. He follows suit facing you and interlacing both your hands between you. “You’re looking at it sweetheart,” he gestures around to the mostly not clean cabin. 

“This took you all day?” you tease. Luke flicks your forehead, you laugh in response. 

“Don’t be mean.”

“Who me? I’m not being mean.”

He shoots you a look.

“Well now you know how I feel, you’re always teasing me.”

It’s takes about five seconds for Luke to wrestle you onto your back, knee slotted between your thighs, while both of his hands mercilessly attack your side. Your writhing beneath him, laughing so hard you can’t breath. 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you squeal, he halts his movements and pokes the dimple by the corner of your mouth, that only shows when you’re laughing hysterically. 

“That’s what I thought Poison, you know we’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” he’s slowed his movements, now one hand still stroking you cheek, moving down to your hip and pressing you depper into the mattress, his other hand holds him up so he’s not completely crushing you. You blush furiously at his implication, the last time the two of you had been in this position, it had been sinful, granted you weren’t in your cabin where anyone could walk in at any moment, but still. “You’re gross,” is what you decide to respond with, but he just laughs and leans down to kiss you anyways. 

Kissing Luke is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve kissed other boys before him, but something about the way he kisses you, you know he’s absolutely ruined you for anyone else, he kisses you in a way you know will screw up forever. You don’t know what you’ll do if he wakes up one day and decides he doesn’t want you anymore. The thought makes you kiss him harder, and pull him closer. His thumb rubs soothing circles against your exposed skin from where your shirt  had ridden up a bit. One of your hands rests at the base of his neck pulling him closer, begging him to kiss you harder. Your other hand hovers at his lower back, when you try to pull him closer there too, he pulls his face back from yours, breathing heavily. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, he kisses your check once on both sides softly and then looks at you again.

“Nothing, just keep kissing me,” you tell him before pulling him back to your lips. 

He mumbles your name against them, but then indulges you for a moment, your brain is going a million miles a minute, you don’t know why you can’t turn it off sometimes, but the thought of loosing Luke plagues your mind too often, were you destined to be like your father, who loved your mother in the spring only to be left again by the fall, he had never truly gotten over his one great love, Persephone. You couldn’t imagine ever getting over Luke either, especially with the way he’s kissing you so tenderly now.

He pulls away again, making you pout. 

“I can hear you thinking, what’s up?”

You almost tell him but he’s always trying to make you feel better and for once you want there to just be nothing wrong. You’ve always been a little more darkness than Luke, you think. He’s the camp golden boy, perfect in all the ways that count. You’re Persephone’s only (claimed) daughter, who grows plants from nothing, and grows vines of poison ivy around people who piss you off. Your moods change with the seasons, and as Fall grows nearer you can feel yourself growing darker. You just want a moment with your incredibly hot boyfriend to not think of the impending darkness that’s right around the corner.

“I’m okay, really,” you tell him, he’s not convinced clearly because he stays hovering over you but he won’t lean back down to kiss you. “Luke, c’mon we’ve got like–” you check your watch, “30 minutes until the first round of campers are back.”’

“But you’re worried about something, I can tell,” he mutters, “It’s almost September, that’s what’s buggin’ you huh?” 

Sometimes you hate how well he knows you, “Okay, yeah, you’re super duper smart now do you wanna make out with me or what?”

He laughs, and leans down to kiss you again, it’s a peck not at all what you were looking for and you groan. “Luke–”

“Look, I’m all for making out, and I’ll distract you if you really want me to,” his voice is husky in your ear, in the way he knows you love, but then he pulls back to look at you again, “but we both know this is still gonna be buggin’ you afterward, and I just want to make you feel better.”

You sigh, cause you know he’s right, annoyingly right, and stupidly handsome, you still really want to make out with him, but you don’t want him to feel like he’s a distraction, because he isn’t. He’s Luke, and you love him with everything you have.

“You’re never a distraction,” you promise him eagerly, you move to sit up and he follows suit, leaning against the headboard of the bunk and opening his arms wide for you to snuggle into is chest, you place a kiss over his heart. “You’re the main event baby.”

He snorts and pulls you closer, “That was incredibly corny Poison, you going soft on me?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. But seriously, you're incredibly sweet."

You lean up and kiss his jaw. He kisses your forehead in return.

A moment of silence passes before he asks the burning question on both of your minds. 

“Are you going home this year?”

You’d spent most of your time at Camp Half Blood being a summer only camper, but the last two years you’d been a year rounder. Your dad had never really been the same after Persephone disappeared from him, never to return, at least according to your aunt. When you’d been younger you’d been a handful and provided your dad with a distraction from his sorrows. But as you’d grown older, made friends, and forged your own life, your father had started drinking again. The more he destroyed himself, the more he destroyed you and your already almost non existent relationship with your mother. You resented him, but you resented her more for leaving him with nothing more than a hollowed shell of who he used to be. He’s been writing you letters, but you can’t bring yourself to respond.

“Probably not,” you admit finally, “I don’t want to see him and besides,” you curl into Luke more, “I want to stay with you.”

Luke’s arms tighten around you as he peaks down at your face, “You do?”

“Of course I do.” 

Luke kiss your head, you smell like flowers and goodness and the things he loves. He thinks he could stay right here with you forever. “Are you sure?” he asks you. 

“Do you want me to stay?” you ask, feeling self conscious now, you don’t have the opportunity to let your anxiety consume you for long before Luke is reassuring you. 

“Are you kidding? Of course I want you to stay. I love it when you’re here, you know that.” 

You smile up at him softly, his brow furrows, a little crease at the center where you can tell he’s thinking really hard about something. You reach up to smooth it out, but he catches your hand with his own. “You do know that right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, and you do. You really know it, in the back of your mind, you know Luke loves you as much as you love him. 

“Good, because sometimes I think you don’t get it, how much I love you. I’d do anything for you, just say the word,” he lets you reach up to smooth the crease from his brows.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“You get this little crease between your brows when you’re worrying about stuff, did you know that?”

Your pinned back down on the bed before you get a response, he’s kissing you like you’ve been wanting him to this whole time, Hot and searing with his hands in all the right places. You could die happy, right here, wrapped in his arms, his lips pressed against yours, and his tongur sneaking into your mouth. You stay like that for a few minutes, unaware of the time ticking away. You both pull away a little breathless. 

“I love you,” he says quietly, “a lot.”

“I love you too,” you reply kissing the bottom of his scar softly, “a lot.”

He leans down to kiss you again but you place a hand on his chest pushing him away from you. “We should probably clean the cabin now,” you relent, sighing as you look at your watch, the first round of campers should be returning in about five minutes, Luke takes a look at your watch and groans.

 “You were right,” he admits, head tucked into you neck as you play with his hair.

“I’m sure I was but youre gonna have to be a little more specific babe,” you reply matching what you’re sure is his cheeky smile buried in you neck. 

“We should have just made out.” 

You push him off the bed.

[youcouldmakealife]

Stuff That Helps Me Write: Pacing (no, not that kind), and burnout avoidance

So this was supposed to be about something entirely different., but every time I started making a point, I got distracted by a second, bonus idea (ways to trick your brain when it's not cooperating with you! things I've tried (I will try everything) and what worked and didn't! what to do with writer's block!) and then start writing about that, and I've got half a dozen unrelated paragraphs going in my drafts, so I think I'm just going to make this a mini-series of 'stuff that helps me write and may also help you (or maybe they won't, I don't know, this shit's all subjective)'.

If there's anything in particular you'd like to hear about, or something about my process you're curious about, absolutely feel free to reply or shoot me an ask and I'll do my best to address them as I go.

But yeah, pacing. And more specifically, not burning out. I figured it was important I hit this one first, because I think it's the most important one, or at least, the one that makes the biggest difference.

With the caveat that I am someone who has repeatedly driven myself into burnout, I'm also someone who now knows why that is, and have been teaching myself how to, you know, not do that.

So. Here's how I, you know, don't do that.

Will preface this by again mentioning that most writing advice (and advice in general) never seemed to work for me, and I mostly thought I was just Bad at Doing Things, until I learned my brain's literally wired differently, and that I'd been trying to apply processes that didn't actually work for said wiring.

So instead, I figured out what worked for me. And what works for me isn't necessarily what will work for you, or even what will work for me a month or five years down the line, but it's going okay right now.

I'll straight up say that, contrary to all the Writing Advice, I don't write every day, and I don't think it's necessary, or even necessarily a good idea -- I have at times, but I no longer do, because if I write for more than six days straight I find the proverbial well dries up and I write less than I do had I just taken a break when I needed it.

Cognitive energy and the sort of ephemeral ~inspiration (work that's been done on a subconscious level) are fundamentally no different than physical energy: if you don't replenish it, you will run out. If you overdo it, you will run out. If you consistently overdo it without replenishing it, you will burn out.

Taking a page from hockey players here: if you did an intense workout right before a game they'd ask what the fuck was the matter with you. You need a nap and a meal and to get some stretching and light work in. Running at 100% all the time will burn you out in every single field, including this one.

That's not me saying not to run at 100% at all. I generally try to pace myself now, but if I'm really in it, and the words are coming easily, I don't stop until they stop -- I wrote just shy of 4k of later scenes for SAIT last week (my 2024 record!), all in one sititng, by hand, when I was supposed to be sleeping, because that's when the inspiration came. I didn't fall asleep until past 6am that night, and my hand is still mad at me.

But you know how much writing I got done the follow day? (None, I was busy transcribing 4k of handwriting). The rest of this week? (Not much more than that). Those bursts of energy are awesome, and honestly can make you feel like a writing god, but the well's the well, and I've learned my personal well is about 5000 words a week deep.

Before my most recent scrape with autistic burnout, which I'm still sort of climbing my way out of, that well was closer to 7500 words. But honestly, it probably wasn't; I was likely just siphoning words from future wells and then it all caught up with me when I was looking at a horizon of dry-ass wells ahead of me. (I'll admit this isn't a perfect metaphor.)

But seriously, my advice for basically everything, not just writing (and something I wish I'd learned before I hit my 30s), is 'figure out what pace you can work at sustainably'.

Please note that 'sustainably' is not 'without literally dying'. Because my literal ass thought when people said 'give it 100%' they meant, you know, 'give it 100%' (I know! absurd of me), rather than 'give the best effort you can give in this moment considering your current resources'. So I gave it my all (also interpreted that one wrong I guess?). And then I wondered why I kept hitting a wall all the time. And why, eventually, I stopped being able to climb that wall entirely.

I don't think I'm ever going to reach that 7500 word threshold again. There will be weeks I'm so inspired I write that much, but the next week I probably won't manage more than 2500. Or maybe I'll have two 7500 weeks in a row, but I'll need to take a whole week off after that, or spend several weeks working at a lower tempo while I let the well replenish itself.

I've been tracking some metrics quite closely as I sort of tweak my life into its new shape (said shape being 'do the best you can given your resources') , and during my most productive month of this year I wrote 3x as much as the worst (writing wise, I was finalising publication at the time), my current weekly average is about 4800 words. Sometimes it's a bit higher or lower, sometimes much higher or lower, but that's what I can sustainably do right now.

Frankly, I'm a little cranky about this: I know I can do more, because I did do more. But my priority now is not to send myself straight back into burnout again, so when I sprint, it's just that, rather than my previous 'trying to run a marathon at the pace of a sprinter'. I'm writing less than I used to, but it's honestly not that much less: because the pace is sustainable rather than boom and bust, I don't run myself ragged enough to desperately need a break.

I'm aware this advice only works if you have control over your own time, and a schedule that doesn't force you to focus on writing say, one day a week, or around other obligations, but the only real workaround for burnout is consistency, and that consistency cannot be your maximum.

Or, it can, but I guarantee you that will bite you in the ass at some point, and the pain of not getting enough done is nothing compared to the pain of not being able to get anything done because your nervous system threw up its hands and decided if you weren't going to listen to their clues (feelings, symptoms) or their warnings (Feelings, Symptoms) that you were overdoing it, they were going to shut your ass down until you listened.

0/10 do not recommend.

Next week: how to trick your brain into doing shit that it doesn't feel like doing, even though it's onto all your tricks by now. Or at least, how I trick mine.

[marsontherocks]

And They Were Roommates Chapter 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Trans!Hispanic! Male Reader

Summary (ao3 link): Johnny discovers Simon has a roommate and does his best to wingman his friend. It goes as well as a trainwreck.

or

Simon is pining so badly after his roommate it's embarrassing, also drama and action.

A/N: …It has been sooooooo long since I have published any fanfic of mine. Personally, I'm a Price person(Update from future me: RUDY NOW I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I *EXPLODES*), he's so fucking hot holy shit. Anyways, I've had this fanfic idea in my head and I really like it so I'm writing it! >:3

| Next Part

Johnny looked at the address on the phone and then at the building he was standing in front of. Yup, the correct address.

The building seemed like a studio. There were all types of art in the window, preventing anyone from actually seeing inside. The door of the studio was frosted, but a sign on the door had a name, followed by the words ‘professional painter’. Johnny sighed, if this was the wrong place, he hopes the person inside will know where to direct him.

As he stepped closer to the door John heard music inside. He pushed the door open, the music practically blasting him with how loud the music was. Johnny walked inside, the studio was mostly empty, save for the canvases and art supplies littering the floor. Across the room, there was a scissor lift about halfway between the roof and the floor. You were standing on the platform, painting a half-finished canvas. 

As the music faded to the next song, Soap cleared his throat, gaining your attention. You jumped and frantically looked around the platform before picking up a remote and turning the music off. You turned around and gave Johnny a charming smile.

“Hi! Can I help you?” Your American accent caught the Scotsman off guard.

“I’m looking for Simon?” Johnny said hesitantly, the Lieutenant's name rolling off his tongue awkwardly.

Your face somehow lit up more at the mention of the Brit’s name. “Oh! Yeah, give me just a second!”

You walked over to the side of the scissor lift and began lowering yourself with the panel at the side of the platform. Once you were low enough you got off, and Johnny saw how covered in paint you were, practically head to toe.

"I'll take you upstairs so you can bother him. I think he was getting ready to do some errands last time I saw him." You head to stairs that Johnny hadn't seen earlier.

The two of you headed up the stairs, continuing your conversation along the way. "I assume you're Soap or Johnny?" You ask.

"Just Soap is fine."

"Simon never shuts up about y'all, so it's nice to meet at least one of you."

"Didn't know LT was a talker."

"Really? He loves talking, then again I probably talk his ear off more than he talks mine off." You say with a chuckle.

Soap notices the affection in your voice and he can't help but ask. "So are you two…"

"Oh god no, we're just roommates." You reply, cheeks flushing.

"Sorry, just wondered."

"You dragging him to the bar early?"

"Nah, just came to bug him." Soap huffs a laugh, and you look back at him with a grin.

You make it to the top of the stairs and Johnny feels something rub against his leg. He looks down and there is an orange cat rubbing and purring against him.

"Sorry about Willy, he's a people person… Wait, are you the one who is afraid of dogs?" You pause.

Soap feels his heartbeat spike. "Yeah."

"Let me put up Riley real quick," You say as you briskly walk into the maisonette.

"Riley, come here boy!" Johnny hears you call out, then a chain clinking and nails hitting the hardwood floor. He hears a door open and close, then you reappear around the corner.

"All right, you can come in now." You smile at Soap.

Johnny follows you into the living room, Willy trailing behind him. There is a loveseat and a one-person chair facing the TV, a small table in the middle, there are a few gaming consoles, quite the collection of video games, and art supplies strewn all over the floor, Johnny even spots Simon’s military boots by the door. The whole scene is weirdly… intimate.

“Sorry about the clutter,” You sigh, picking up some open sketchbooks on the floor. Johnny catches a glance at a sketch of Simon sleeping.

“All good, my flat is worse.” Which is true, it’s an organized mess. You give Soap a toothy grin, before turning away.

“Simon!” You yell out, startling Soap a bit.

“What!” Johnny immediately recognizes the voice as his Lieutenant. 

“Your friend Soap is here!” You say in a sing-songy voice.

There is silence, as you set your art supplies on one of the couches. One of the doors in the living room opens and Johnny is reminded how he's still not used to seeing the Lieutenant without his mask. Simon looks rather cozy. He's wearing a hoodie and gray sweatpants and looks rather exhausted, or like he just woke up from a nap.

"You're here early," Simon says, mild annoyance in his voice.

"Figured we could hang out a bit, LT," Johnny says with a cheeky grin.

"Why would I want to do that, Johnny?"

"Be nice, Simon." You jokingly scold as you start going back downstairs.

"No."

If you had a response, Johnny didn’t hear it. He feels Willy rubbing up against his leg again, so he squats down and starts petting the affectionate cat. “So what are we going to do today, LT?”

Simon gives an annoyed huff. “You seriously plan on spending the day together?”

Johnny gives Simon a pouty face. “Aw c’mon LT, it’ll be fun!”

Music starts again downstairs, much quieter than before. Simon stretches his neck, popping it with a sigh. “I have errands to run, Johnny.”

Johnny stands back up, cradling Willy in his arms. “I don’t mind.”

Simon gives him a bored look before running a hand down his face. “Go wait for me outside then. I have to let the dog out before I leave.”

The Scotsman beams, letting Willy jump out of his arms as he turns to the stairs. “See ya outside then LT!”

-Next Part-

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

Tricky Testing

(Fucking finally! Have this before I end up stupidly re-writing this. Enjoy the technically second half of the prologue.)

Word Count: 22,709

TW/CW: I legitimately can’t think of any. I guess experimentation?

______________________________________________________________

I slowly became aware of my existence again, my eyelids still feeling heavy as I opened them. Blearily, I noticed stacks of containers and someone a little ways away, looking vaguely familiar to the general aesthetic of the space station. Memories took a second to return but I was interrupted from fully processing them by a soft “Hi.” to my right.

“Dan Heng?” I asked, shaking my head to try and become more alert. I feel like at any other point I probably would have been unintentionally startled if it didn’t feel like my head was throbbing with my mouth feeling as dry as cotton. There was a nausea that sat at the pit of my stomach too.

“It’s good that you’ve made it through in one piece,” the man said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can rest easy now that the threat from the Legion has been neutralized.”

“Wait, they’re gone?” Trying to shake off my bleariness, I winced when it made my head pound more. The confusion wasn’t helping.

“Well, this invasion seems to be nothing more than a random provocation,” Dan Heng replied, crossing his arms a bit in thought. " As soon as the Doomsday Beast fell, the Legion retreated.”

“The Beast fell?” I blinked in surprise at him and something about the way his expression changed made me feel like I should know that the Beast had fallen, but I mostly just remembered pain and bright lights before being knocked out. 

“Yes…” Dan Heng said slowly, looking uncertain like whether or not he should tell me something. Instead, he shook his head a little at a decision he came to internally and handed me a small handheld device. “I’ll leave any further explanations to Himeko. I guess I’ll leave you to rest up a bit for the time being. By the way, what’s your beacon address? That way if anything happens, I can contact you.”

I took the offered device and looked it over absentmindedly, frowning in a bit of confusion. “Beacon?”

“We found it on your person after you passed out. I’m guessing you have no memory of acquiring it and the attack took priority, so it makes sense that it wouldn’t cross your mind.”

“Oh, uh… Lemme check what the number is then, I guess?” I said uncertainly. Thankfully, the device wasn’t locked with a code or anything, so I was able to get inside and Dan Heng walked me through how to navigate to where I could find my Beacon number. As we looked through, finding that the Beacon must be new with nothing to give clues about my situation, I asked him, “You happen to have anything to help with a headache?”

“Hold on.” Dan Heng looked up when he was finished writing my Beacon number in his own Beacon, pocketing it. He took out what looked to be a tiny unopened pouch of some painkiller and handed it to me. “Go see Himeko when you have the time. She said she had something to discuss with you. Try not to get into any trouble.”

“I’ll try,” I replied, not even sure what kind of trouble I could get into if there wasn’t an active invasion anymore. I had no water, but I took the painkiller dry. “You’re Aeon-sent.”

I paused. What kind of turn of phrase was that? Aeon?

The man seemed satisfied with my response, giving me a nod before turning around and walking off, leaving me alone in the middle of the space station. A space station I hadn’t navigated myself, something I didn’t even realize until he was too far.

“Wait, fuck,” I felt a jolt of panic run through me but winced when it caused my head to throb a bit more. I immediately deflated a little, sighing, “Ugh, I’ll figure it out…”

I waited a good while in the corner I'd woken up in for my headache to subside before getting up to figure out where I was.

It didn’t take long to see that I was still in the master control zone when I reached a balcony that oversaw the whole area, several researchers still milling about. Down below I could see Asta and Arlan near the center of the room with a tiny white thing by Arlan’s feet. What was that thing?

Curious and with no direction other than finding Himeko at some point, I wandered around until I found the stairs down to the first floor and walked over to Arlan.

“Hey, Arlan,” I said to get his attention from some other guys that I assumed were also security. As he turned around, I started asking, “Do you-?”

“Nova!” Arlan’s voice was entirely surprised as he looked at me, eyes wide. For some reason, I was caught off guard as he added, “You’re back to normal!”

“Huh?” I glanced myself over and realized he was caught off guard by my current size. Fair enough considering. “Oh, uh, yeah. It happened when the Doomsday Beast showed up for some reason. Whatever happened to me, I seem to be fine now.”

“Doomsday Beast…” he sounded about as confused as I felt about the situation, but I couldn’t deny the results and neither could he. Arlan shook his head to clear his thoughts. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Himeko,” I told him, putting my hands in my pockets. I just realized that he was around my height, able to look him in the eyes without difficulty compared to needing to look up a bit to talk to Dan Heng earlier. “Dan Heng said that she had some things to discuss with me. Or one thing? I dunno.”

“Hmm,” Arlan looked to the side in thought and crossed his arms, replying, “Well, last I was tracking, those with the Astral Express went back to the rail platform. I heard that Madam Herta is showing up later today in response to the attack on the space station, so it’s likely that one of the Express personnel will want to talk to her.”

“Thanks,” I turned around and made to go to the rail platform before remembering… I had no clue where it was. Rubbing the back of my neck, I looked back at Arlan. “Actually, could you point me in the direction of the rail platform? I can’t remember where it is…”

“I can give you a copy of the unclassified space station schematics,” Arlan replied, pulling out his own Beacon and unlocking it. I didn’t even want to know how he managed to put in such a long password, his fingers flying across the screen as password dots filled the bar.

There were a couple minutes of me fumbling to give him my Beacon number, waiting to receive the map, and him walking me through how to read it and where everything was before I felt comfortable enough to leave him. Satisfied after giving it another glance over, I turned around and gave Arlan a departing wave, saying, “Thanks, man! I’ll leave you to it then.”

“No problem,” he waved back in response before looking back to the few other security guys that had probably been watching the entire interaction awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I told them, turning around and remembering the white thing near Arlan that I had seen earlier. I wasn’t very used to needing to look down and turned my gaze floor-ward to see a fluffy white creature. A little dog, my mind supplied without any memories of interacting with one. Still, I knew immediately that I wanted to crouch beside it and give it pets.

“Aww, look at you,” I knelt in front of the dog, an arm-length away from a habit I didn’t remember acquiring. I slowly reached out my hand towards it and let it sniff my fingertips. It barked at me, but I knew it was friendly with its wagging tail and lack of snarling.

“That’s Peppy,” Arlan’s voice caught my attention, making me look up as I reached out and pet the furball. Thankfully, the other security personnel were walking away, so the bark didn’t seem to interrupt anything. “Asta’s dog. I look after it sometimes.”

Despite the slightly dismissive way he spoke about the dog, the fondness in his eyes when he looked at the little creature gave away that he cared for it more than he let on. For what reason, I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t going to bother him more than I already was.

“Well, they’re very adorable,” I said, using both hands to ruffle its long fur. I was tempted to pull off my fingerless gloves to get the full feeling, the softness of its fur against my fingers. They were a very well taken care of pup. My hands didn’t even smell like dog when I made myself pull away and stood up, more like a hint of floral scent. “I’m gonna get out of your hair.”

I didn’t want to leave the dog but I kept feeling a prickling at the back of my neck like I was being watched and, glancing around a bit, noticed one or two researchers staring. It felt uncomfortable, even though I didn’t know what their thoughts were as they looked at me.

Were their thoughts good or bad?

Arlan and I exchanged farewells again before I started to meander around the master control zone. The map showed that the rail platform was a ways away, but Dan heng hadn’t really said that it was urgent to come find Himeko so I just kind of explored slowly. There was also a point where, when looking at the map on my Beacon, I accidentally closed out of it. 

I ended up making myself look through the whole thing to familiarize myself with the device before deciding that it’d been long enough and that I should start heading towards the rail platform.

I almost made it to the elevator before my Beacon dinged, making me stop and check it off to the side so that I didn’t get in anyone’s way.

‘Hi. This is Dan Heng. Remember to go find Himeko.’ The text under Dan Heng’s name looked up at me as I unlocked the Beacon, making me tilt my head and shift a bit on my feet as I settled to reply.

‘I know, looking for her now’ I texted back, not bothering with punctuation at the end. When the little icon for him typing popped up, I waited patiently for him to respond. Well, as patient as someone with a bunch of questions and barely any answers could. Admittedly a bit impatient, I added, ‘I assume she’s at the rail platform with you guys?’

The little bubble with blinking three dots stayed for a second or two before disappearing, only to return again after a moment more. 

‘No.’ was Dan Heng’s initial response, before thankfully being followed up fairly quickly. ‘She left to go to Herta’s office when I got back.’

“Ugh, really?” I mumbled to myself in slight irritation. But, at least I didn’t go so far that turning around would be incredibly annoying. The office should be here in the master control zone if I remembered right. A bit annoyed, I replied, ‘I’ll head over there then, thanks’

‘No problem.’

I reopened the station map that Arlan had sent me, flipping through the pages to find the one with the master control zone again. Giving it a couple look-throughs, I noticed that Herta’s office was back up on the second floor that I’d come down from. 

Goodie. 

Well, at least I knew where to go. And the close proximity meant that there was almost no chance of getting lost on the way.

Taking the left archway from the elevator, I walked up the stairs and saw a figure with bright red hair near the railing. She noticed me coming up the stairs as well since she called out, “Nova!”

“Howdy!” I called back, finishing making my way up the stairs to join her. I ignored the researchers glancing towards me at our brief exchange since most just went back to whatever they had been doing.

“You’re awake,” Himeko said as I walked up and stopped in front of her, giving me a small smile. “I had March and Dan Heng stay by the Express to keep an eye on things. It’s almost time. She should be arriving any moment now.”

“Uh, time for what?” I asked, tilting my head a bit in surprise. Dan Heng had said she’d explain things further, but now there’s a different ‘she’? I blinked when I noticed footsteps behind me.

“I’ve only been gone, what? A few months?” a small woman walked up to us wearing what looked like a white dress with a black jacket and hat accented by purple lining and flower respectively. She stopped in front of us and put her hands on her hips, looking unamused as she finished, “And the space station is already in this state?”

Somehow the long light-brown hair she had also looked unamused, like any excitement had been straightened out of it.

“Welcome back, Herta,” Himeko greeted the much smaller woman, making my next question of who this was obsolete. Looking at me, she gestured to the smaller woman with a hand. “This is the true master of the space station, Genius Society number 83, Herta.”

“Uh huh,” I said slowly, still taking stock of the new woman. I couldn’t help but look at her joints, reminded of a ball-joint doll even though I had no memory of coming across one. “Number 83?”

“At least give me a proper introduction!” Herta exclaimed, making me jolt a little with her offended shout even as she grumbled under her breath a bit. “Genius Society number 83… Of all my outstanding achievements, that’s what you want to mention?”

“So, you’re a… robot?” I asked, having not really expected this when I heard Madam Herta was coming back. Nor was I expecting her to be so small… or seemingly rude.

“What you’re seeing here is one of my puppets. I’m using her to talk to you.” Herta stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, proceeding to completely ignore me as she looked at Himeko. “So this little twerp has the Stellaron now? Huh.”

“Wha- twerp?!” I exclaimed in my own offended shock, mind completely skipping over the second half of the question. Himeko, however, just nodded at the little dickhead.

“Hmm, I’ll have to take a good look,” Herta murmured to herself, looking back at me. Her gaze felt clinical.

“Good look at what?” I asked, still not very pleased with my current impression of the woman. From everything I’d heard about her beforehand, I didn’t expect to like her, but it was another thing entirely to feel the unpleasantness firsthand.

“You, of course,” Herta rolled her eyes. Turning on her heel, she started walking off and didn’t even look behind her as she directed, “This way.”

I frowned at the woman’s back as she continued, but a glance towards Himeko where she nodded in encouragement made me reluctantly follow along after Herta. She didn’t go towards where her office on the map was nearby, instead leading Himeko and I down the steps away.

“So,” I said quietly beside Himeko, trailing beside her. “This is Herta.”

Himeko laughed lightly at my displeased tone. It seemed to be a common enough feeling associated with the other woman since Himeko neither defended or rebuked her. “Yes, this is Herta.”

I made disgruntled noise, staring at the puppet’s back as we followed her around the corner to the elevator. I expected Himeko to say something else but, when she didn’t, I glanced at her and saw that she was looking at me from the corner of her eye. She was expecting ME to say something. I didn’t know if it was because I was easy to read or because she was already supposed to be explaining things.

I guess she wanted me to word my concerns.

“What did she mean by saying I have the Stellaron,” I asked.

“I mean, you have the Stellaron,” Herta answered just ahead of us as she hit the button for the elevator, making me jolt in surprise.

“Isn’t it rude to eavesdrop?” I frowned, her answer not even clearing anything up since it had just been repeating what she’d said before.

“Isn’t it rude to talk about someone behind their back?”

I felt a rush of indignation, bristling a bit and hesitating when Herta and Himeko stepped into the elevator as it opened. I only joined them because Himeko gave me a small apologetic smile and gestured beside her. Herta had her arms crossed like she couldn’t care less whether or not I even came with them.

“That still didn’t clear anything up,” I retorted, crossing my own arms over my chest when I stood beside Himeko. The elevator felt a lot smaller now. “I don’t have anything but my clothes and the Beacon thing.”

“Wrong.” Herta stated bluntly, pressing a button I didn’t care enough to pay attention to in my irritation. Before I could find myself incensed at her lackluster explanations, Himeko spoke up.

“What Herta means to say,” Himeko said, successfully gaining my attention as I looked up at her. I heard Herta scoff in front of us. “-is that, somehow, the dormant Stellaron that she’d been keeping on the space station ended up inside of you.”

I blinked dumbly at her, caught off guard.

“The room March and Dan Heng found you in is the same one that was used to harbor the inactive Stellaron,” she continued after I didn’t reply immediately. Her expression looked like she was trying to be reassuring but also had an alertness to it, likely trying to gauge my reaction. “We only connected the dots after you took down the Doomsday Beast.”

“Wait, I took down the Beast thing?” I asked in disbelief. I guess I understood now why Dan Heng seemed hesitant at my surprise when I heard that it was defeated. “How?”

“The Stellaron did,” Herta interrupted. The elevator doors opened and she led us out into another hall, glancing back disapprovingly at Himeko. “Don’t go and give them a complex.”

“We can’t say for certain whether it was only the Stellaron or if it enhanced their own abilities,” Himeko replied, unbothered by the smaller woman. 

“We’ll see,” Herta sounded unconvinced and unbothered as she stopped in front of a set of doors that had a card reader on the side and what looked like a biometric panel. I was saved from asking how useful that was considering she was in a puppet by her waving her hand past the card reader, causing it to beep with a green flash and the biometric panel to open up with an indent the exact shape and size of her hand. 

Circuit markings in the biometric panel glowed as she put her palm inside, turning green in acceptance. The panel reclosed when she pulled her hand away, the doors hissing as they opened. I shuddered at the burst of cold air from inside.

“Welcome to my private lab,” Herta declared proudly, walking into the room. Himeko followed first, then I reluctantly trailed into the chill behind her.

Looking around there was all kinds of equipment that felt vaguely familiar, and most of them completely foreign in the massive room. Walls of consoles and cabinets, cluttered yet organized counters full of beakers, stands, electronics, and other equipment, metal rows of counters cutting through the otherwise open space. There were massive clear vats of something in the corner of the room. Metal lockers lined walls unfilled by cabinets and counters. Another Herta puppet stood at one of the counters mid-action like it’d been frozen while working.

With how cold it was in here, maybe it had been.

“Alright,” Herta said, weaving between two rows of counters to a surprisingly empty portion of the room. As she approached a section of the floor opened and a metallic exam table lifted out of the ground. She stopped beside it and put her hands on her hips as she turned around. “Get up.”

“Uuuuh,” I made a prolonged uncertain noise at the direction, slowly walking up to the exam table. I put a hand on the table’s surface and shuddered as the metal leeched away whatever heat I had. I hoped that this wouldn’t take long so I could retreat from the freezing confines of the room. I unhappily hopped up to sit on the exam table, trying to ignore the almost painful goosebumps that I could prickling my skin. “What are we doing exactly?”

“Relax,” Herta said, walking off to the side to grab something. I watched her, vaguely recognizing the item as some basic medical device. “I’m just going to check your vitals and some readings.”

“Right..”

She was at least correct about it, even if she was thorough. Apparently, my heartrate was a bit high but still in the normal range and everything else rudimentary was normal as well. Same as any other flesh and blood human apparently. The ‘hmmm’s and ‘huh’s started when I was convinced to put some kind of nodes on my chest. 

Well, when I smacked her hands away instinctively when she peeled the back of one and reached for me, leading Himeko to convince Herta that I could put them on myself. The stickiness made me shiver in slight disgust but I put the nodes on as directed. At this point, my fingers felt numb from the cold, shoving them under my thighs to try and get some heat back into them. It only worked slightly with the metal I was sitting on.

“You were surprised earlier when I said the Beast was taken down by you,” Himeko said while Herta muttered to herself in the background. Looking up at her, I wasn’t sure if she was just trying to pass the time or distract me. Maybe both. “Can you tell me what you remember?”

“Uhh, I can try,” I said, not expecting to be put on the spot like this. I spoke slowly as I thought, answering, “I remember feeling panicked when I saw the Beast aim a beam or something towards March and running forward before I could stop myself. I thought it’d hurt, but it didn’t. Not at first, at least. I’m pretty sure I blacked out because I woke up in a void nowhere and there was some voice talking to me.”

“Did you recognize the voice?”

“I don’t know, maybe?” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, only able to think of it vaguely like a dream slipping through my fingers. “I just remember they said something like ‘they’ve noticed you’ or whatever and then there was a figure that looked shattered with gold eyes and gold scars and stuff.”

“Nanook?” Herta asked, speaking directly to me for the first time in minutes.

“I don’t know who that is,” I replied. Even if I was told about them, I’d been given so much information recently that it all swirled around together.

“Aeon of Destruction,” the smaller woman clarified, walking back over to the exam table and holding her hand out. When I just blinked at her, she sighed and grabbed my own hand, holding it still and pricking my fingertip with something before I could react.

“Ow,” I yelped, snatching my hand back as soon as she let go and held it to my chest defensively, glaring at her retreating form when she walked off to a microscope.

“I don’t know who the voice was,” Herta continued talking like she hadn’t just stolen a blood sample to look at, emptying the couple drops she nicked onto a slide and placing it beneath the scope. Her voice muffled slightly as she looked into it. “But if Nanook saw you, then you’ve garnered more attention from the Aeons than some of their own followers.”

“Do you remember anything after that,” Himeko asked, softly redirecting me from Herta’s ramblings.

“Um… a lot of pain,” I said, chuckling sheepishly, shifting to release my hand and rub the back of my neck. I rolled my eyes when Herta told me to quit moving and ruining the readings, but I put my arm back down. “I vaguely remember some guy showing up and a train, but that’s it.”

“That’s Welt Yang,” Himeko looked slightly amused at me referring to him as ‘some guy’. “He brought the Astral Express to the rail platform and forced you unconscious to subdue the Stellaron.”

“Oh…” was all I could say, unsure how else to respond. 

“Hmm, truly amazing!” Herta eventually exclaimed past her muttering science-y jargon to herself the entire time, making me jolt in surprise. She looked up from the microscope and walked to the nearest console to check on the readings. She walked over to me and held her hand out again. 

I just glared at her distrustfully.

“Take off the nodes, twerp.”

I scowled but reluctantly obliged, grimacing in disgust as I peeled them off and felt a sticky residue cling to my shirt when I pulled them out. She took them without complaint as she walked back up to one of the consoles to look at the recorded readings.

“I built a whole space station just to contain this unactivated Stellaron and keep The Blue from disaster… Yet someone was able to achieve that with this little twerp’s body,” she mused to herself, staring intently at the readings that just looked like random squiggles to me. Especially from this distance. “How did they do it?”

“Moreover, the Stellaron is still very stable in Nova’s body,” Himeko spoke, also sounding pleased as she walked over and leaned a little over Herta’s shoulder to also look at the readings. 

“You’re right. This little one’s body truly is strange…”

“Can you stop calling me ‘little one’?” I asked from where I remained sat on the cold lab table, watching the two women without any amusement. I was already irritated from the cold. Now that I had no nodes on myself I didn’t hesitate to cross my arms over my chest and hug myself, trying to warm back up again. “It’s degrading.”

“Hah! Compared to me, you are.” Herta laughed, leaning back from the console to look at me. “How old are you even?”

I narrowed my eyes into a glare. That one was a low blow, I couldn’t remember shit and certainly didn’t remember my Aeon-damned age.

“And that’s not even taking into account how you were found the size of a tiny figurine.” The smaller woman seemed far too amused at the prospect, giving me a smug smile.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, Herta.” Himeko almost sounded like she was chastising a child. “Case in point, that puppet body of yours is actually much smaller than Nova is now.”

“That’s… beside the point,” Herta grumbled, almost immediately deflating. She looked back towards the readings for a second before looking like she just remembered something, turning her attention back to Himeko. “Hey, is this one the same kind as that March 7th? If that were true… Can I bring her in for some research?”

“Wait, now you're bringing March in?” I asked, not understanding what Herta meant by ‘same as that one’.

“What,” Herta looked irritably perplexed at my question, gesturing towards me. “No, I'm talking about you.”

“Oh. It's them, actually,” I automatically corrected, surprising myself a little with how instinctive that had been. Logistically, I knew that I looked and sounded more feminine, but something about it irked me in a way I couldn’t describe.

“Whatever.” she waved her hand dismissively, not even sparing a glance towards me. “Can I bring THEM in for some research?”

Well, I guess it was something.

“That’s not up to me to decide,” Himeko told the smaller woman, dipping her head towards me briefly. “You can ask Nova yourself…”

I was a bit caught off guard as both women looked towards me, giving me attention that I was not at all prepared for. Himeko’s expression was mild but Herta’s gaze felt like she was trying to punish me for the audacity of being given a choice. Nervously shifting, I said, “I guess that depends on what you’re studying….”

“Studying you, of course.” Herta rolled her eyes. She pushed away from the console with the readings and walked up to the exam table while I eyed her warily. “Your body contains a Stellaron, which, in some sense, is no different than storing a bomb. Who knows what might happen? Maybe it’ll blow you to bits someday.”

“What the fuck?” I blinked at how casually she said it.

“You should be grateful that this genius is willing to help you out,” Herta continued haughtily like I said nothing, putting her hands on her hips. “I still have some interest now, but once that’s gone, I’m not studying you even if you beg me.”

I was even more appalled, startled by the woman’s actual audacity, exclaiming a bit louder, “What the fuck?!”

“I’m very interested now, so there’s almost nothing I won't accommodate,” she continued proudly like it wasn’t the biggest backhanded compliment ever. An almost excited smile touched her lips, even if it was small. “A Stellaron in your body, how interesting is that! Be grateful that I’m offering to help you out. This is a service even the IPC can’t buy.”

I just continued to stare at her. I knew she was blunt, but holy shit. She definitely made it seem like I was more of a lab rat than even a test subject, and I wasn’t sure how grateful I should be at being a lab rat, even if it was to a supposed ‘genius’.

“You understand now, Nova?” Himeko asked, catching my attention. I looked past Herta to the taller woman just behind her. “Herta wants you to stay in her space station.”

“Well, I’m going to have to modify your wording here,” Herta interrupted almost immediately before I could even give it a thought, let alone an answer. She gave me an unimpressed look as she looked at me, vastly different from the near excitement just before. My mind created the narrative that the excitement was from the prospect of experimentation and the disappointment was remembering I was an actual person. “This little twerp can only stay temporarily until the research is done. Or maybe I’ll lose interest halfway through and they can just beat it.”

“And after that?” Himeko asked. Her expression said that she already knew what the answer was and it didn’t shift when Herta replied.

“Not my problem,” the ‘genius’ shrugged. It really drove home what little care she actually had.

A million insults crowded into my mind as my blood boiled, my fingertips tingling a little as I opened and closed them a little. What I wouldn’t give to have that baseball bat again, then I could just give Herta a solid swing to the dome. It was a puppet anyways, and one of many. I wouldn’t actually be causing any damage.

“Nova…” Himeko’s voice cut into the fantasy I was thinking of, making me blink as I refocused onto the redhead. “You also have another option. The Astral Express. If you want, you can leave with us.”

“With you guys?” I asked, startled. 

“The Express has its fair share of experiences with Stellarons. The thing you’re worried about, and the answers we’re looking for are one and the same,” she replied, nodding towards me in solidarity. Looking down at the smaller woman, she added, “Besides, we can come back any time to let Herta conduct her research. She’s absolutely fascinated now.”

“Hm,” Herta hummed a bit in thought, not even needing a couple seconds before shrugging and declaring, “Works for me. Keeps this subject fresh, too. And that way I won’t need to keep worrying about this little twerp all the time. Perfect!”

I looked at the smaller woman in thinly veiled disgust and irritation at her far too pleased ‘Perfect!’, almost snarling quietly, “You are the most self-centered person I’ve had the displeasure of meeting so far.”

“You should meet the others of the Genius Society,” she shrugged dismissively again. “Some of them will trick you into thanking them after they milk you dry. At least I have my honesty going for me.”

“That’s all you have going for you,” I snapped, not liking how uncaring she was about her own unpleasantness. 

“Just remember to come back often,” Herta said, walking back to the console and reading through it some more. “Make an appointment in advance with Asta or Arlan so I can make time to study you.”

I bristled, once more returning to the urge to smack her upside the head with something. Even if it technically did no damage, I felt like it’d be delightfully cathartic.

“There’s no need to rush into this, Herta.” Himeko interrupted violent thoughts again, making me stop glaring at Herta when I noticed the redhead looking at me. “Asta’s in the master control zone. Let’s let Nova have a talk with Asta first and decide for themself. Nova, I’ll be waiting for you on the platform. It’s no hurry if you still have things to do or someone to see. Come find me when you’ve made your decision.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” I replied, suddenly feeling deflated at the thought of her not being here with me. It was cold and Herta was a bitch.

Himeko gave me a reassuring smile that didn’t quite stick the landing, but I gave her a grimace of a smile back and a wave as she left. I watched the white of her dress disappear from the lab, wondering how the hell she hadn’t been cold given how much bare skin she had while I was shivering fully covered. 

Thankfully, Herta didn’t even make any attempts of piss-poor conversation, focusing entirely on my readings and the microscope. I wished I knew how to read them myself so that I didn’t feel out of the loop with my own body.

After zoning out for a few minutes just trying to ignore how fucking cold it was, I realized that it’d been a bit since I’d heard the woman mutter under her breath. Blinking in confusion I looked over to where the pupper was, seeing that it was poised over the microscope like it was about to look but there was no movement.

“Uh… Herta,” I spoke up hesitantly, not wanting to get up and lose what little heat I’d conserved. But, there was no response. Frowning, I shouted, “Herta!”

Still nothing.

“Oh, wh-what the fuck,” I muttered to myself, forcing my limbs to uncurl. I slid off the exam table and walked up to the puppet, tapping its shoulder. And then I bonked it lightly on the head with the palm of my hand. When nothing happened I narrowed my eyes, my arm gearing up for a second before giving the Herta puppet a solid smack upside the head as hard as I could.

Honestly, hurt me more than I hurt her.

I hissed as my palm stung from the hit, the puppet barely jostled from its position. Probably a good thing since I remembered after the impulsive smack that it was right above a microscope that I didn’t doubt was extremely expensive. Still, whatever catharsis I achieved was undercut by feeling lost and confused.

My Beacon vibrated in my pocket and startled me, making me jump in surprise before I pulled it out with numb fingers to see who was messaging me. I didn’t know many people, so the list was rather short.

However, imagine my surprise when a number already under the name ‘Herta’ was the one that sent me a message. I hadn’t given her my number.

‘Come to my office quickly! I’m waiting!’ it read.

I stared at it for a second, squinting my eyes in confusion before glancing at the puppet beside me and typing, ‘? But you’re right next to me’

‘[Automatic reply] Hi, I’m currently unavailable, and I won’t be contacting you later’ was my response.

‘???’ my fingers sent out the confused triple question marks before I could stop myself, only further baffled by the brief text conversation. I also felt a bit of anger warming me from the inside at the thought that she just fucking essentially up and left without letting me know. How long ago did she swap puppets?! I could have been out of this stupid room sooner!

I waited a few minutes for a response but, true to the automatic reply, there was no further contact.

“Son of a fucking bitch,” I grumbled under my breath, shoving my Beacon back in my pocket and my hands under my armpits as I walked to the lab doors. Leaving the lab, I was immediately grateful to feel normal warmth. I didn’t realize how cold the lab was until stepping out felt like stepping into the path of a heating lamp.

I continued to mutter insults and general irritated remarks to myself as I figured out how to backtrack back to the master control zone. Which took longer than I would have liked since I wasn’t paying attention when I was led down here.

“What took you so long?” Herta asked as I finally trudged into her office. Didn’t look like an office, but I also didn’t care right now.

“I hate you,” I replied irritably, walking up to her on the entire other side of the room. At least I didn’t feel like I was going to get frostbite anymore, nothing but the barest of pins and needles in my fingertips as a reminder of Herta’s freezing lab. “How fucking long were you gone from your lab before texting me?”

“First off, I haven’t moved,” Herta said, as though that was the issue I was having with the situation. “I just connected to one of my remote-controlled puppets all over the station.”

“That feels unnecessary. Didn’t answer my question.”

“I am working on a big project with a few colleagues,” she supplied not-so-helpfully. I felt like it was the closest to an answer I was going to get right now. “If we succeed, it will answer the ultimate question that’s been puzzling us for thousands of Amber Eras: The truth about Aeons.”

I let out a heavy exhale at remembering she didn’t exactly care about me. Why would she let me know that she left the lab? “Uh, Aeons?”

“Aeons… think about it,” Herta replied, with a surprising amount of awe in her voice. It caught me off guard to hear. “What mystical existences! Some Aeons used to be ordinary humans like you and me, but somehow they managed to obtain power beyond our imagination! They are mysterious, powerful, silent and terrifying! It’s hard to explain all the mysteries surrounding them.”

“Uh huh,” I made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement, really hoping I wasn’t about to get a whole rundown. 

“How were they created? Why were they created? What were they created for?” she rattled off rhetorical questions in a quickfire before asking me, “Nova, have you ever thought about these questions?”

“I, uhhh,” I struggled to think of a response. If I had thought of these questions, they belonged to a different version of myself. A version without Aeon-damned amnesia. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Well, indeed, it’s got nothing to do with you, but we need you,” Herta looked disappointed at my response and irritated on having to rely on me for something, sounding like a teacher trying to get their student to volunteer for something. “Give me some time, Nova, I’ll make this worthwhile for you too.”

“Yeah?” I asked hesitantly, sensing a ramble that I wouldn’t understand right around the corner. 

And I was right as Herta explained something called the Simulated Universe, a program she was in charge of that could supposedly help understand Aeons, the closest thing to ‘traditional Aeons’ or whatever. I only half paid attention because she rattled off a bunch of information before metaphorically throwing me into it.

It didn’t help that I was getting my ass handed to me. Simulated or not, it still fucking hurt when a beam from some Antimatter Legion orb hit me.

“Oh, come on,” Herta’s voice echoed in my skull from within the program. “How did you manage to take down the Doomsday Beast when you can’t even dodge correctly?”

“I didn’t fight before the Doomsday Beast,” I snapped, wincing when I pulled my hand away from the wound site. There wasn’t any blood given the world’s simulated nature, but it felt raw and painful. I yelped as I dodged another attack, rushing to get a hit in before I ended up hurt some more. “I was fucking TINY, remember?!”

I managed to hit the orb, retreating out of the way as a spear sunk into the simulated creature. It was still very disconcerting that she managed to simulate Dan Heng and March. Even though I barely knew them, it felt like a massive breach of.. Well, just someone’s existence.

“I guess it doesn't matter how much fighting you see, you need to experience it to get better,” Herta sighed in my mind. “You can only go up from rock bottom. Good news for you.”

I huffed, watching the simulation March take a shot at the orb and psyching myself up for another go at the thing. As I picked up speed and ran towards the orb, prepping the baseball bat in my hands, I cried out in surprise as everything sputtered out of existence with a shout of “Nova!” from Herta. Worst thing was, it was both in my head and out of it.

“Huh, wha-,” I blinked rapidly as Herta’s office came back into focus, disoriented and confused as I looked around. My stomach churned with renewed nausea, barely able to keep from gagging as I doubled over a bit. This was feeling like an unfortunate trend already.

“Nova!” Herta shouted beside me, making my head throb. I just got rid of that after waking up earlier.

“What, what?” I held a hand to my head, holding a hand towards Herta like it would stop whatever she was about to say. Thankfully, this disorientation and ache was already starting to fade.

“Sorry I pulled you out forcibly,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. Her tone was somewhat serious, surprising me. “I need you back down to my lab.”

“Again?” I groaned, not wanting to return to the freezing room. “Why?”

“Something fascinating happened to your blood sample,” she answered excitedly. Almost too excitedly, putting a hand against me and shoving me towards her office door. “I’ve already contacted Himeko and Asta. Whatever you decide to do, whoever takes you off my hands is going to have to deal with this.”

“Wha- deal with WHAT?” I asked, turning to face the puppet. But it was already offline. Angry at the weird back and forth I was having with the woman, I turned to leave the office and growled, “Of all the people in the fucking cosmos, I have to deal with HER.”

I could not understand why other researchers looked up to Herta, but I also wasn’t a researcher… I think.

Reluctantly I re-backtracked my way down to Herta’s private lab, taking a lot less time than it took to make it to her office since I had a vague memory of the route upstairs. Reaching the door of the private lab I paused in front of it, wondering how I was supposed to get inside without Herta’s credentials when the doors hissed open. 

“There you are!” Herta’s voice snapped from inside before the doors even fully opened.

Apparently I still wasn’t fast enough.

I huffed and bit back a retort, knowing it wasn’t going to bother the woman and just hugged my arms to myself as I forced my feet to unplant from the floor and take me into the freezing interior of the lab. It wasn’t hard to tell where Herta was, both Asta and Himeko standing next to the shorter woman. Irritably, I complained as I walked inside, “Does it have to be so fucking cold in here? I’m going to get frostbite by the end of the day.”

“I don’t deal with live subjects a lot and my puppets don’t have a need for much sensory input. We can figure something out for you later,” Herta said dismissively, continuing to work at one of the consoles without even glancing up at me.

“Goodie,” I waited a second for her to say anything about why she had been in a frenzy but she was very glued to whatever she was looking at.

“Hello, Nova,” Asta greeted with a smile. Unlike Himeko, who looked perfectly unphased by the temperature and was focused on Herta, she looked a little uncomfortable with her arms loosely crossed in front of her. I didn’t miss the way her eyes glanced over me, the first time seeing me since I was back to normal-sized. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Y-You too,” I replied conversationally, even though conversation was the last thing I wanted at this moment.

“Arlan said that you met Peppy,” she continued lightly, sounding entirely comfortable with small talk. There was a softness in her gaze as she spoke. “Peppy apparently has taken a liking to you. Arlan’s words, not mine.”

“Oh yeah?” I tried not to sound too incredulous considering I just met the little dog once for only a few seconds. Still, dogs usually were pretty friendly to almost everyone that gave them the time of day. Though I couldn’t tell if the soft expression was because she was talking about Arlan or her dog. I also didn’t care enough to decipher it, finding myself a bit jealous of the others that didn’t have their teeth chattering, unable to stop myself from saying, “Sorry, but h-how the HELL are neither of you freezing?”

“Oh!” Asta looked a bit surprised, like one of my first sentences walking in wasn’t bitching about the chill. An apologetic look crossed her face, replying, “I guess I’ve grown used to how cold the labs can be. It helps keep sample deterioration away.”

“The cold just never bothered me much,” was Himeko’s response as she straightened from looking over Herta’s shoulder. She had an almost guilty expression as she placed a gloved hand to her chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were cold when we were here earlier. Here, take my jacket.”

“N-No, it’s really not that big of a… okay,” I trailed off from protesting as my words fell on deaf ears, Himeko shrugging her jacket off her shoulders. Not that it was really being used but still. I sighed in resignation as the jacket was handed to me, telling her, “Thank you, ma’am.”

I didn’t bother slipping my arms into the jacket arms, wrapping it around myself like a blanket. Somehow, despite her not even wearing the thing, the fabric was warm from some lingering body heat and I couldn’t help but relax slightly as my body absorbed it. She had to be like a Aeon-damn furnace, no wonder she left so much skin bare! Sadly, the residual heat didn’t last long.

Less than pleased when the cold returned, albeit less severely with Himeko’s jacket, I glared at Herta’s back and asked, “Are we ever gonna find out why you summoned us here, ooor?...”

“Ugh, I almost forgot how needy most people are,” Herta groaned irritably at my trailed off sarcastic question. There were a couple more keystrokes on the console before the screen went black, multiple holographic screens appearing in the air around us instead as she turned around. “Lucky for you I just finished compiling things.”

“What THINGS?” I stressed, just wanting her to get to the point.

“Your data and results,” she said, turning to start messing with some of the holograms. I felt like she was being infuriatingly cryptic on purpose. She focused on one of the screens, making some gestures around the thing before it blew up to be the largest, the rest shrinking around it. The lights dimmed automatically to leave the screen the main focus in the room. “Here’s your base biometrics: heartrate, breathing, etcetera. All the basic stuff.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, just seeing numbers and lines. Glancing between Himeko and Asta, it looked like they were having no trouble understanding the holographic board.

“Everything falls within normal range, which wouldn’t be noteworthy if it weren’t for the fact that you’re harboring a Stellaron,” Herta continued, flicking through other floating screens. “Anyone would expect that would have some kind of physical toll on the body, but yours seems to function just fine. Even your electrical activity is pretty normal. But, look at these readings.”

She flicked another screen and that one replaced the other data. It was still squiggles, but now they were overlaid on top of each other. The only one I recognized was a heartbeat. Jeez, was mine really that fast?

“What’s this reading?” Himeko asked, reaching up to point to one of many. It started off nonexistent before spiking and staying at the top of the chart.

“That,” Herta sounded pleased at the question, making keystrokes on a smaller screen to isolate the reading Himeko pointed out. “Is meant to gauge Stellaron influence. Most people don’t do well being near a Stellaron, let alone touching it, so there’s been development in creating software to see how much a person has been affected by one. It didn’t even pick anything up until the electrode was in Nova’s hands, and then it just spiked everything.”

“Sooo, that just means there's not really an external way to tell I have a Stellaron?” I commented slowly, looking at Herta. I felt kind of weirded out by how intense the focus from everyone else was on this. “Does that change anything?”

“For you? Probably not. But for research it changes nothing and EVERYTHING,” Herta said, sounding almost giddy like a kid getting a gift. Thankfully she was already full tilt into explaining before I had to ask. “Stellarons have driven people insane by proximity, yet here you are seemingly physically and mentally unaffected by one in your body, leading to the question of how. Actually, wait, I can’t say ‘completely unaffected’ anymore.”

I gave her a concerned look in surprise as she started flipping through screens again. “HUH!?”

“What does that mean?” Asta asked beside me. Her voice was calm but I also noticed a bit of concern when I glanced at her, and I didn’t like that Himeko also looked a bit more serious.

“While I had the little twerp test a project, I almost lost the small blood sample I took-.”

“Wha- how do you lose a blood sample?” I asked, feeling a little alarmed.

“I DIDN’T,” Herta snapped, glancing at me with a glare before making another screen overshadow the others. “I said I almost did. Even then, it never left the slide.”

I held my tongue as she turned back to the screen, now showing what I assumed to be my blood under the microscope. Which was weird because it wasn’t even really red anymore, more like a cluster of weird shapes with a pink tint with a bit of yellow in some places that looked like tiny strands. Apparently, it was a video because suddenly everything started moving.

“The yellow electricity appears to be remnants of Stellaron energy. Even though it doesn’t seem to affect you functionally, it does seem to have an affect on your body still,” Herta narrated, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked up at the screen. 

“Why are some of the cells different?” Asta asked.

“Inconclusive right now. But you’ll notice something in a moment.” Herta replied, not taking her eyes away from the screen as she moved the video forward.

I squinted up at the screen, not really sure what Asta meant by different cells. I didn’t even know which ones were the normal ones. 

There was almost a quiver that went through the cells on screen, almost like the way water rippled when something was dropped into it. My brow furrowed, focusing on the screen in confusion as a few more convulsions went through the mass of cells, jolting and blinking in confusion when the strands of lingering Stellaron suddenly flashed and caused the screen to turn white. 

When the scope refocused it was almost like there was no evidence of the blood that had been on the slide, the frame of reference moving around until more cells appeared. Even though I didn’t know the difference of the cells I could tell that something was off.

“Only the abnormal cells remain,” Asta exclaimed in surprise.

“Correct. The why is the biggest question, but I managed to slow down right before the Stellaron remnants blinded the microscope,” Herta’s fingers swiped another screen, pulling up a sequence of pictures. In a frame by frame replay as the Stellaron strands flashed, it looked like certain cells - the abnormal ones I guessed - lurched towards the other cells and wrapped around them.

“Okay,” I shifted to rub my eyes in frustration. I hadn’t even been awake long, but this whole thing felt draining. Re-tightening the jacket around me I asked, “What the fuck does this mean?”

“It shows your cells cannibalizing each other,” Herta answered, turning around to face me and flicking the holographic screens away. She put her hands on her hips as the lights came back on in the lab, glancing around at Himeko and Asta before her gaze settled on me. “Somehow, it seems like the lingering effects of the Stellaron triggered the abnormal cells to exterminate the others. To what purpose, I don’t know yet. But, it took the cell count down to almost .02 percent of the initial sample in less than a second.”

I stared at Herta in a bit of disbelief, an almost solemn silence falling on the room from the others after her statement. She looked a little taken aback by the silence, looking between all of us.

“Oh, come on, don’t get so serious on me now. It sounds a lot worse than it actually is,” she said, pausing and tilting her head a bit in thought. “Probably.”

“Not helping,” Himeko crossed her arms over her chest, seeming to get slightly frustrated with the other woman.

“Look. The twerp was found in my collection room, tiny but unharmed and perfectly able to function. They lasted potentially hours in this state before being found by the Astral Express crew,” Herta stated matter-of-factly, putting a hand to her chin in thought. “I can’t say anything for certain, but if I had to make a hypothesis right now I’d say that the abnormal cells are the ones they woke up with. How they were modified in the first place is a question for another day.

“But, that means that if your cells cannibalize themselves, it’s very likely that you’ll return to the same size you were found,” she looked directly at me.

Well that… was incredibly disappointing to hear. I also couldn’t help but zero in on a particular part of her sentence, instinctively repeating, “‘Very likely’? What’s the other options?”

“Well, there’s a chance that the modified cells are random and your body collapses on itself without the necessary cells to sustain itself, but I’d say the likelihood of that happening is less than one percent. I’d need a variety of samples to tell if only your blood cells are abnormal or otherwise. There’s also the chance that what happened to the blood sample isn’t going to happen to you at all since I still don’t know what caused it yet. Either way, I’d like to be able to monitor you for at least a few days.

“Which is why I called you two here,” Herta turned to the other two women while I mulled over a bunch of the information that was dumped on us. Like with everything else so far, it just kind of swirled in my mind.

“Oh?” Asta made a noise of surprise and curiosity.

“One of you is taking the twerp off my hands when I’m not monitoring them, and I don’t really care who,” Herta stated in her normal rude and blunt way, making me give her a disgruntled glance as she continued. “I took up their time and kept them from being able to talk to Asta about this whole thing, so now you all can figure it out and get them out of my hair for today.”

“Wait, I have to get this taken care of NOW?” I asked, a bit alarmed. I was kind of hoping there’d be some sort of lead in to figuring this out.

“I want to look over your biometrics again and you keep complaining about the temperature, so yes.”

I found myself appalled again by Herta’s dismissiveness. Everytime I thought that I had experienced the worst of it, I ended up unpleasantly surprised. Before my mind could decide between being pissed off or overwhelmed I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Himeko.

“How about we talk about this outside the lab? That way you’re at least out of the cold,” she suggested with a smile.

“Alright,” I huffed, glancing between Himeko and Asta, who nodded in approval at Himeko. I didn’t pay attention to the farewells both women gave Herta as I walked to the lab doors, only giving a lackluster goodbye to her myself. Herta didn’t acknowledge any of us.

That didn’t deter the others and I didn’t care enough to feel more insulted than I already had a couple times today. I just felt relieved when we left the lab and stepped into the comparatively hot hallway, shuddering as I felt my body temperature increase again. I let out a sigh of relief, not even realizing how tense I’d been to try and conserve body heat until my muscles uncoiled. I unwrapped Himeko’s jacket from around myself and held it out to her. “Thanks again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, taking her jacket back. “Happy to help.”

“So, are we supposed to be discussing your stay while Herta’s helping?” Asta asked, seemingly a bit confused. To be fair, Herta kind of was just shoving me to be the other two womens problem without any consideration.

“Uh, I think it’s more like figuring out who’s issue I’m going to end up being,” I replied, feeling kind of awkward and rubbing the back of my neck. I sort of had no current connections to anyone or anything aside from the few people I’d met so far and I didn’t like having to rely on people I barely knew. Neither of them really had a reason to help me out and I didn’t want to force myself to bother them.

“It’s really not an issue,” Asta reassured me. “Despite everything, I’m sure I can figure something out to allow you a place to stay here on the space station until we can find out more about your past.”

“I’m sure you have your hands full with the aftermath of the Antimatter Legion attack,” Himeko told her. She didn’t sound condescending, just musing aloud even as Asta’s brows furrowed slightly. “I don’t doubt your abilities, but I’m certain that ensuring the space station receives repairs and all the researchers are accounted for take priority over looking into Nova’s background.

“The offer to join the Express still stands,” she looked down at me. “Like I said earlier, we have experience with Stellarons and traveling can help expand our search into your past.”

“Yeah, but didn’t you guys just show up to drop something off,” I asked with a frown, feeling like I was inconveniencing either way I leaned.

“We did,” Himeko nodded in agreement, crossing her arms in front of herself loosely. “But the Astral Express is about helping those in need as well and every one of us joined at different times with no connections to each other. We’re more of a ragtag group.”

I mulled it over for several seconds, still feeling very much on the spot and wishing I had more time to process everything and think this through. But I wasn’t given that luxury and ended up sighing in resignation, asking, “Are you sure it’s fine even with me needing to stick around for a few days?”

“I’m sure,” Himeko gave me an encouraging smile. “We’ll have to run it by the rest of the crew and Pom-Pom, of course, but I’m sure the others will be understanding given your situation.”

I nodded in acknowledgement at her words, shifting a bit on my feet as I said, “Then I’d like to take you up on your offer.”

“Excellent,” the redhead looked satisfied with my decision. “If you want, we can go to the Express right now or you can meet me there in a little bit.”

“I’d like to walk around a bit first,” I told her, rubbing the back of my neck.

Himeko nodded, asking, “How does thirty minutes to the rail platform sound?”

“Sounds fine to me.”

“Glad that’s taken care of,” Asta said. I was worried that she may take offense to me not staying on the space station but she just looked glad that something was figured out. “You’ll be in good hands. The Astral Express is very reliable, I still can’t thank you enough for your help against the Legion.”

The last sentence was directed to Himeko, who gracefully waved off the compliment, replying, “Nonsense. We weren’t going to just stand by.”

I had a feeling that the two were about to delve into their own conversation or a gratitude-humble stand-off, clearing my throat quietly and gesturing down the hall towards the elevator. “I’m gonna get going.”

“See you at the rail platform.”

“See ya,” I gave a wave to both Himeko and Asta as I walked off, letting out a heavy exhale when I walked through the halls and got into the elevator. I didn’t even know where I was going to go for the next thirty minutes, but I just felt like I needed SOME kind of time to myself.

Which ended up being kind of difficult when researchers and security personnel were almost everywhere I walked around. I eventually ended up just wandering around to explore and pass the time, ending up turned away at some point by security personnel from some blocked off hallway. But, that was fine since I figured I’d have to try and find my way to the rail platform. It took a bit longer than I meant it to, feeling a bit sheepish as I walked into the massive room, able to see the train from the entryway.

I made a beeline to the redheaded figure standing next to it, saying, “Sorry. I didn’t realize how long it’d take to find my way back here.”

“Well, it probably looked a lot different to you last time you were here,” Himeko looked unbothered by my tardiness. I wasn’t even sure when exactly the meetup time was in relation to leaving Herta’s lab, but it felt like I was definitely late. “I already talked with the rest of the Astral Express crew and explained your situation.”

“Yeah?” I said cautiously, not wanting to get my hopes up too high.

“Relax,” she chuckled a little at my wariness. Coupled with her small smile, I couldn’t help but untense a little. “Welcome to the crew, Nova.”

I was relieved, releasing a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. I wasn’t really sure what I would have done if I had been turned away other than maybe going back to Asta and seeing if she’d be able to help. Seeing my relief, Himeko let out a small hum and turned around, walking along the side of the Express.

“Come with me.”

I didn’t hesitate to trail after her, looking up at the metallic side of the train to take in the gray exterior. Moving past the initial engine, the rest of the nearby cars looked like they had windows, seeing bright lights lining the ceiling on the interior. Soon, I was led to a set of onboarding steps at the train door.

The door let out a small hiss of changing air pressure before it slid open as Himeko started stepping onto the onboarding steps, and I felt a slight hesitance before following her into the train. The slice of train that I supposed would be considered the entryway was a bit thin but allowed enough room on either side to make it feel like I could almost extend my arms out entirely. In comparison, the length to the other side of the slice was a decent size and there were doors on either side of the entryway. 

The space probably would have felt more oppressive if it wasn’t so brightly lit, gold trim and accents glinting in the light.

“I’ll take you to the Parlor Car first,” she said, starting to walk to the door on our left, the sound of her high heels echoing slightly against the metal walls. Reaching the door and placing her hand on the handle to slide it open, she gave me a small amused smile and added, “Our conductor wants to see you themself.”

“Okay,” I felt a bit confused at her amusement but once more followed her through the door when she opened it. And I couldn’t help but blink in surprise when we stepped into a surprisingly large lounge area. I knew the train was big considering we’d just been walking along its length outside but it was still another thing to see how large the interior was and I had the feeling that trains this large were uncommon. Then again, it was meant to travel through space.

“Ahem.”

“Gah!” I jolted in surprise at the sudden sound of someone that was definitely not Himeko clearing their voice, glancing around in confusion when I didn’t see anyone else. Himeko lifted a hand to her mouth like she was trying to stop from laughing, only furthering my bewilderment.

“I’m over here,” a voice said, lower than I realized. Looking down I saw a… creature in a conductor's outfit, looking reminiscent of a rabbit stuffed animal.

“Uuuuh,” I glanced at Himeko as I wondered whether or not I was hallucinating but she looked unphased. In fact, she started walking to one of the large lounge couches where a man, Welt if I remembered right, was sitting before I could try to protest.

“Hey, you there looking dumbfounded,” the rabbit-esque creature snapped lightly, recapturing my attention and making me look back down at it. Its eyes looked angry, but it was hard to tell whether or not that was just its natural expression. “Yes, Pom-Pom’s talking to you. Himeko told Pom-Pom about your situation and how you’re the reason we’re going to be spending longer than we should here.

“Now listen up,” this Pom-Pom demanded, stomping their small feet on the floor. “Pom-Pom will only say this once. Pom-Pom’s sure there have been lots of people telling you how special you are lately, but this is the Astral Express, and everyone on here has their secrets. Since you chose to board, you can abide by the rules. You’re not the only special one here. You’d best remember that.”

“Uhhh, okay,” I said slowly. I don’t really think I’d been called special necessarily, more abnormal, and now I was being preemptively berated by a rabbit creature about a potential ego.

“I’m Pom-Pom, the conductor. Just come and find me if you have any trouble,” Pom-Pom finished, tone less harsh than it’d just been. About as suddenly as the creature demanded my attention it turned and walked off, seemingly satisfied with its introduction of me.

Meanwhile, I was left reeling slightly from the last couple days. 

Actually, I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been knocked out, this could all be the same day I was found. Regardless, it was just one more confusing thing on top of my entire confusing situation. Shaking my head a bit to try and clear it, I looked around the lounge again, wandering slowly to where Himeko and Welt were at one of the lounge couches, uncertain of what to do. Himeko noticed my approach first.

“Don’t mind Pom-Pom’s antics,” Himeko said, amusement still on her face. “They’re actually pretty interested in you. It’s just that we haven’t had new passengers on the Express for a long while. If you have any questions, feel free to ask our conductor. But, what do you think? Does the Astral Express look the same as you imagined?”

“Well… it looks like a train. Just a lot bigger,” I answered, looking around the large parlor car some more.

“Everyone on the Express is a passenger,” Himeko mused lightly. “We’re all heading towards an unknown destination, like we are traveling together. Maybe that’s why the Trailblaze chose such a look.”

“Uh huh.” I made a noncommittal noise, feeling like I didn’t know enough to have an opinion on the decor of the train. My gaze eventually landed on the man beside Himeko. Part of me felt wary but I tried to be polite, stating, “You must be Welt.”

“I am,” the man nodded. I couldn’t help but glance him over, connecting him to the vague shaped man I saw after the Doomsday Beast showed up. A cane rested against his leg. “How do you feel?”

“I’m… fine,” I settled on the answer after a moment of thought.

“Your uncertainty is understandable,” Welt said. “Your situation is a unique one. In any case, I have to thank you for saving March.”

“I kind of did it without thinking,” I replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck. Somehow it earned a chuckle from the man.

“Helping others without a second thought. That is the most important quality of a hero,” he seemed to feel like what I did was something brave instead of my thought of it being an impulsive lapse in judgment. But his expression turned slightly stern. “However, as long as the Stellaron is still in your body, you should be careful what you do. I don’t know if Himeko and I can suppress it again. But I won’t bore you any longer. So much happened at the space station, you must be tired.”

“Oh right,” Himeko spoke up again, seemingly just content with watching the conversation. “March and Dan Heng should both be in their rooms right now if you want to find them. The first passenger car is through the other door you saw when getting on the train.”

“Feel free to walk around and familiarize yourself with the environment,” Welt added, giving an encouraging nod.

I definitely felt like I was being pushed to explore around, but it also seemed like both of them were just trying to make me feel comfortable. They were so accommodating that it was sort of having the opposite effect but I nodded and said, “Okay. I’ll look around then.”

“Don’t forget to ask Pom-Pom any questions if you have any,” Himeko reminded me as I turned to leave the two alone.

I gave a wave of acknowledgement and told her “I won’t.”, walking across the Parlor Car to the door she’d brought me in from and sliding the door open. I closed it behind me and went through the small entryway to step into the next car.

It was a semi-open space with the vibes of a waiting room as a chair sat in the corner on my left with a couple counters, a hallway entrance on my right with the rest of the space taken up by a wall. Absentmindedly moving to the right it looked like the railcar was the same size as the Parlor Car, rooms were just fit to the left side of the car to take up most of the space.

I glanced out the window as I slowly started walking down the hall, looking out at the rail platform the Express was still stationed at. It was still pretty empty, but now there were a couple people near the entryway, likely researchers or security discussing stuff.

“Hm? Who’s there?” someone suddenly called out from the door behind me, making me jump in surprise.

“Uh, it’s Nova,” I answered, confused but felt my heartbeat settle after skipping a beat. I hadn’t even knocked or said anything, how the hell did Dan Heng hear me?

“... Oh, it’s you. The door’s not locked. Come in.”

“Oh, uhhhh, okay,” I said hesitantly. I hadn’t really expected to encroach on anyone’s rooms, but I also couldn’t say that I wasn’t curious about them. Walking up to the door, my hand barely grazed it before it slid open to allow me entry, revealing the initial sight of a space themed backwall with a slightly lifted glowing blue floor that stepped down to the gray flooring closer to the door. The sound of humming electronics became more noticeable than before.

I didn’t immediately see Dan Heng, leaning in and looking around to see him standing to the left of the door. Making eye contact with him as he turned around, I gave a cautious wave and stepped inside.

“Can I help you,” he asked. While he was blunt, he was at least better than Herta, sounding deadpan rather than annoyed.

“No, just, you know, looking around,” I replied, gesturing vaguely as I glanced around the rest of the room. It was definitely an odd shape with walls that slanted inward.

“Feel free. This is open to everyone on the Express.” 

Oh, so this must be another communal area, I thought to myself. 

I looked around a bit with slightly more interest, gesturing around and asking, “What goes on in here, then?”

Dan Heng looked back at the screen he must have been looking at before I walked in, remarking, “While many of the roads that Akivili traveled along no longer exist, I think it’s still meaningful to record our adventures as current passengers of the Express. I enter the collected data into the archives data bank. I try to catalog the people and places the Express encounters, and compare and contrast them with the existing records. 

“Do you see the terminal over there?” He gestured to the section with the raised blue floor, where there were a couple monitors that I could see. “It can be used to view information already stored in the data bank. Do give it a go.”

“Oh, okay,” I blinked in surprise. I didn’t really feel like stuffing my brain with more information than I already had with everyone’s explanations, but I also didn’t want to just refuse or stand there while Dan Heng was looking at me expectantly. I could just step up, mess with the terminal a bit, and then feign interest to hopefully placate him.

As I walked up the step or two onto the elevated portion of the floor, something on the floor caught my eye and I looked down to see a thin mattress with a singular blanket and pillow, both a similar seafoam green that Dan Heng had on his clothing.

“Wait, is this your room?” I looked back toward the man, who had almost turned back to look at the monitor in the wall in front of him.

“Yes, it is. Is that a problem?” Dan Heng asked, brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

“Well, no, I guess not,” I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly, feeling awkward at my own surprise. “Just… caught me off guard, I guess? I don’t know, feels like I’m intruding on your privacy now.”

“You're not trespassing, I encouraged it. Everyone usually stays out of the Archives anyways,” he shook his head at some internal thought, adding, “Himeko and Welt are far more experienced than I, and hold a wealth of knowledge between themselves, so they rarely need to look anything up. March, on the other hand… she’s not really one to seek out knowledge often.”

“Ah…”

“Ahem.”

A vaguely familiar sounding throat clear caught my attention, both Dan Heng and I looking back towards the doorway to see Pom-Pom standing in the entryway. I hadn’t even heard the faint hiss of the door opening.

Having successfully grabbed my attention as my gaze met the conductors, Pom-Pom declared, “Your accommodations have been prepared.”

The conductor waited barely a moment before turning around and walking left from Dan Heng’s doorway as they added, “Please, follow me.”

“Uuuh,” I glanced back at Dan Heng but he simply gave me a nod to encourage me to follow, and I slowly trailed out of the room after the rabbit creature. “Uh, coming, Pom-Pom.”

I followed Pom-Pom as they walked further down the hall, passing three other doors on the left after Dan Heng’s room and a couple small tables with single red lounge chairs. Led to the back of the passenger cabin, I stopped when the conductor stopped beside the door at the end to look up at me.

“Through here,” Pom-Pom stated as they opened the door and walked through the thin connecting passage between this cabin and the next. 

All I could really do was follow along into a cabin nearly identical to the last, almost yelping when I nearly ran over the conductor when they halted beside the first door on the left in this passenger cabin and I backpedaled a couple steps as they turned around.

“If you end up needing it, this is where the restroom is located for the nearest cabins. There’s more further down, but you don’t really need to worry about those since you’ll likely never use them. The door next to this one leads to a room that’s been converted into a supply room,” Pom-Pom gestured to each door as they spoke, eventually pointing their arm - paw? - to the doors further down the hall. “Your room is going to be the third one down, got it?”

Third door on the second cabin. Seemed simple enough.

“Got it,” I repeated back to the rabbit with a nod.

“Good,” Pom-Pom nodded back in satisfaction, looking away as they started walking to the aforementioned third door with me right behind. When they reached it they touched the door and opened it, once more stopping and turning to face me. “I’ve prepared your room with the essentials.You’re more than welcome to and will have plenty of time to fit it to your personal tastes.”

I peered into the room as the conductor spoke, taking in the rather barebones looking room. There was a full-size mattress on a basic bed frame with a black comforter and dark gray sheets, a basic nightstand beside the bed, and what looked like a desk built into the wall with a basic chair.

“Thank you,” I looked down at Pom-Pom with a small smile.

“Welcome to the Astral Express,” the conductor nodded, seeming satisfied despite the naturally angry expression. “I’ll leave you to get settled.”

Pom-Pom turned and walked back down the hall, and I watched for a moment before stepping into the room and closing the door behind me now that I was left to my own devices.

“What a day,” I huffed to myself, leaning against the door tiredly. “Or days… ugh, whatever.”

Questioning the timeline of my own existence could wait until later. For now, all I wanted to do was lay in bed for at least a few minutes, shrugging my jacket off and throwing it onto the wall desk as I walked towards the bed. I flopped facefirst onto the comforter. I didn’t mean to fall asleep but, as I mustered the energy to crawl up to the pillows, the last thing I remembered was my head hitting the dark gray fabric of one of the pillows.

………………………………..

“THAT’S all you’re collecting after all that?!” March exclaimed breathlessly, sounding appalled to my left.

Meanwhile, I glared off at nothing in particular to my right with my foot tapping impatiently on the metallic floor, covering my mouth with my right hand and biting my tongue. I felt more than saw the needle in my arm slide out, fighting against the bile at the back of my throat and some lightheadedness. I’d immediately retract my arm if it wasn’t still held in place by Dan Heng.

The only bright side was that the room wasn’t as cold today, though it was still cold enough for me to shiver and for me to feel a bit of the heat from Dan Heng’s hold against my skin.

“Two vials is plenty,” Herta said nonchalantly with the sound of some clinking and the weird, disconcerting feeling of the tourniquet being released from my upper arm. “You’d be surprised how little blood is needed for most tests, but two is in case the blood cell count suddenly diminishes again…. Actually, I might need more, but I can always have you all come back. Oh, right. You can let them go now.”

Spurred on by the statement of retrieving more blood I practically leapt out of the medical seat the second I felt Dan Heng’s hands wordlessly release from my left wrist and shoulder.

“Sounds like you better make the most of what you have then,” I snapped, holding my left arm to myself like it would protect my vulnerable inner elbow and snatching my glove from where it’d been discarded on the medical tray. I debated putting it back on now but my hands felt unstable even though they didn’t show it. I ignored it for the moment, crossing my arms over my chest and asking irritably, “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to assume I can just leave you to your tests, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re free to go,” Herta waved a hand dismissively, walking over to some kind of device on the nearest counter and putting the blood vials inside. “I’ll let you know if I need you for more testing.”

“Great.” I didn't look back as I weaved between the counters of scientific equipment and made a beeline to the door, rushing out from the laboratory. Once the doors slid shut behind me I shook off both the chill from the room and remaining jitters I had from getting my blood drawn, hissing, “Really fucking hate being used as a guinea pig right now.”

“I wouldn't call it being used as a guinea pig,” March's voice said behind me, making me look back to see her and Dan Heng walk through the sliding doors out of the laboratory. “Blood tests are a common practice. Besides, it's only your second day on the space station.”

“Has Herta asked YOU to go into her weird Simulated Universe thing?” I asked March with a glare. She just glanced at Dan Heng in confusion. “That's what I thought.

“Regardless, I never want to do that again,” I huffed sharply through my nose, finally putting my left glove back on. I flexed my fingers and crossed my arms, silent for a few seconds before awkwardly adding, “Sorry… for. You know… bothering you guys with this. And… sorry for biting you.”

I glanced over at Dan Heng, specifically at his ungloved hand where I had chomped down on the skin and saw the still visible bite mark. From what I recalled, he hadn't even flinched when I bit him.

“You're fine,” Dan Heng replied neutrally, shaking his head when I turned my gaze up at him. “I've handled far worse.”

“Hey! What about me?” March exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. “You didn't make contact, but you still tried biting me!”

“I'm sorry for trying to bite you,” I said sincerely, but couldn't help the slight amusement I felt and chuckled a bit. I inhaled deeply and let out a hefty sigh to clear myself of nerves, this time a sigh of relief as I put my hands in my pockets. “At least we hopefully don’t have to go through that whole ordeal again anytime soon.”

An increasingly familiar ding caught my attention and I blinked in a bit of surprise before realizing the sound came from my pocket. Fingers wrapping around my Beacon device, I pulled it out and opened it to see I had a message from Herta that I clicked on.

‘Come back. I need more blood samples.’

My heart plummeted in my chest as I stared down at the words, feeling a nauseating feeling of dread that settled in the pit of my stomach.

“What’s wrong,” March asked, breaking through the dreaded stare that I was giving my beacon.

“Oh, it’s, ahem, nothing,” I cleared my throat to try and not have my voice stick, looking up as I moved to put my Beacon back in my pocket. Whatever lie I was preparing to potentially come up with died as I caught Dan Heng’s gaze. Despite how unreadable and stoic his expression was naturally, something in the slight intensity told me that he saw the message.

I didn’t hesitate to try and bolt down the hall away from the duo and the laboratory.

………………………………..

I cried out in pain as a blade plunged through my chest, staring at the inky void where a face would be as the Reaver hissed in my face, the edges of my vision turning to static as I ‘died’. 

“You know, this would be a lot easier if you didn’t insist on going through alone.”

I huffed in a bit of exertion and irritation as my eyes focused back in Herta’s office, looking to my left where she gazed at me disapprovingly. Feeling bile and nausea from the simulated death, I raised a hand to my chest and rubbed at the fading phantom pain with a scowl. “Aren’t you supposed to be running more tests on all the blood samples I gave you yesterday?”

“Unfortunately for both of us, I’m still waiting on results,” Herta replied, unphased by my attitude like usual. “So I decided to check on your progress in the Simulated Universe. Why aren’t you using the simulated teammates?”

“Because it feels weird that you have simulated versions of a bunch of people, including people I’ve met,” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Feels creepy at best, and unethical at worst.”

“If I wanted to hear lectures about ethics I wouldn’t have made an entire space station to be in charge of. Innovation shouldn't stop based on what normal people think. But, if you want to make the simulation harder on yourself go ahead,” Herta shrugged slightly. “As long as I get data, I don't care.”

I could feel my distaste for her deepen as I stepped back toward the simulation, hesitantly saying slowly, “Right…”

As I reached back towards the simulation portal and felt the staticky pull of the simulation start to encompass my mind Herta exclaimed beside me. I jerked away from the sensation, the near joining of my consciousness into the simulation being snapped off exacerbating the lingering discomfort from my ‘death’.

“What, what happened,” I asked Herta in startled concern. I wasn’t even sure if the noise she made was bad or not.

She didn’t react, eyes wide and staring at nothing. Lifeless. Yet, despite any animatedness missing from it, something about the expression on the puppets face told me that something had certainly caught Herta’s attention.

“Hello? Herta?” I waved a hand in front of the doll's face even though I didn’t expect any response. And I didn’t receive any. Still, for good measure I flicked the puppet on the forehead just in case and threw my head back with an annoyed groan at the lack of reactions. “Oh, for the love of-!”

Growling in irritation, I pushed aside my current discomfort and reached into my pocket, pulling out my Beacon. Getting to my brief message history with Herta I texted snarkily, ‘Is it terminal, doc? How long do I have to live?’

‘[Automatic reply] Hi, I’m currently unavailable, and I won’t be contacting you later’

Yeah, that tracks.

“If you can hear me, I want to reiterate that you’ve been the most frustrating part of my existence so far,” I told the empty puppet and flipped it off. “I’ll be horribly impressed if I end up finding someone more insufferable.”

The puppet did nothing and I didn’t feel like jumping right back into the simulation with the residual dizziness from ‘dying’ and cutting off the connection with the simulation portal so quickly. Not to mention the throbbing in my temples from it.

I decided to spend a little while looking through my Beacon to wait for the discomfort to fade as though something would have changed on it today. Like any other time looking through it the last few days it offered no clues about myself or my past. No pictures, no videos, files, or even apps that could give an inkling on who I was or any occupation I may have had.

It was a bare Beacon.

Decades of my life was gone or missing, if I’d even had an existence before being found. I felt slightly bothered by it but not nearly as much as I felt like I should be. Perhaps someone else would feel more alarmed or concerned about finding the answers but I just felt a little lost.

I suppose I couldn’t really miss what I didn’t remember. All I had was a hell of a few days with a whirlwind of emotions, though it did feel like something nagged at me if I tried VERY hard to remember anything.

Did I meet a researcher or something named ‘Kafka’ or was I making someone up after being introduced to so many people?

Eventually, the dizziness and nausea passed. Stretching and giving a glance towards the unmoving puppet I pocketed my Beacon, rolling my shoulders a little to get rid of some tension as I walked back to the simulation portal. “Let’s try this again.”

………………………………..

“Nova!” a cheerful exclamation and the sound of my room door opening jolted me awake.

“Gah!” I bolted half upright and threw something towards the source of the voice in surprise, hearing a clatter and startled ‘Hey, watch it!’ in response. My bleary eyes focused to see March at my open door, glancing between a fading cloud of shard-like light and myself. I exhaled in relief, rubbing a hand over my face tiredly as my body relaxed. “It's just you.”

“Yeah, it's me! Did you really have to throw things at me?!” The pink-haired woman asked, stomping a foot in indignation.

“Did you have to burst into my room while I'm sleeping,” I retorted with a slight rasp from sleep, pulling my hand away from my face and slowly pushing myself up to a sitting position. “What'd I throw at you, anyways?”

“A bat! I don't even know where you got it from, but it just exploded by my head,” March declared, gesturing to the wall next to her.

“Wha- I don't have a bat.”

I looked at March with confusion, glancing around like the aforementioned bat would show back up again. March, on the other hand, looked less than amused at my remark.

“Well, you just had one,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “And you threw it at me! All because I came to get you so that Pom-Pom wouldn't be upset by TWO people on the Express forgetting to eat!”

“I think it's more because you burst into my room,” I shifted to throw my legs over the side of the bed and stretched my arms over my head. Standing up, I walked over to where my jacket hung on the back of the desk chair I had, pulling it over myself to complete my outfit again. I hadn't really focused on getting pajamas. “And unless I see this bat, I don't believe you.”

“It was real,” March continued to insist as I slipped into my boots and started walking towards the door. She stepped to the side and let me pass her out into the hall before walking out herself. 

“Mhmm.” I just made an unconvinced noise as we walked side by side down the hall towards the parlor car, putting my hands in my pockets.

“Wait!” I jumped a bit when the woman exclaimed, looking at her in my peripherals. She looked like an epiphany had washed over her, commenting, “Maybe it's just something you can summon, like me with my Six-Phased Ice!”

“Six-Phased Ice,” I repeated, taking a hand out of my pocket to open the door to the next passenger cabin. I waited for March to step through first and closed the door behind both of us before we walked further down. “Y’all have mentioned it before, I think, but there's been so much going on it's hard to keep track of everything.”

“That's fair,” March nodded beside me, any previous irritation gone. “When I first got found it took me a while to adjust too. Sometimes I still struggle to understand everything. But, yeah, I can summon these crystals for my bow and arrows!”

“Didn’t you… Didn’t you JUST call it ‘ice’?...” My brow furrowed for a second, glancing at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, but that’s just what it’s called. I mean, ice can’t be that beautiful!”

“Sure,” I said slowly. I almost lost myself in potentially trying to think about the logistics before I decided that I didn’t really care. Maybe later down the line I’d worry about what her Six-Phased Ice actually was, but as long as she wasn’t bothered by it and it was harmless I didn’t see a reason digging into it. Besides, I was still tired from just being woken up. “Whatever you say, man.”

“Anywaaaaay, if you want, I can maybe help teach you how to summon that bat-thing back that you threw at me,” March suggested happily, giving me a slightly cheeky look when she added, “As long as you promise not to throw them at me again.”

 “I don't see why not.” I shrugged, part of me still not believing her despite vaguely remembering throwing something. I gave her a small mischievous smile. “IF there’s even bats to summon.”

“Wha- you still don’t believe me?!”

“Look, man, I just woke up and saw you look at some sparkles disappearing in my room. For all I know, you just decided you wanted to glitter bomb it,” I slowed my pace to open the passage to the parlor car for us to walk through. “And you best hope that whole bat thing is true, because if I have to end up cleaning up any glitter, I swear to-.”

“There you are!” 

The sudden irritated exclamation as March and I walked into the Parlor Car caught me off guard, making me yelp and jump in surprise. Looking to the source of the voice was Pom-Pom, who looked none too pleased.

“And here I thought I was going to have to worry about your eating habits as well,” the conductor sighed.

Glancing towards March, she shrugged at my reaction, remarking, “Pom-Pom worries about the passengers on the Express. Dan Heng’s gotten this lecture before.”

“Wha-lecture?”

“I may not be able to make you do anything, but I can always impart the wisdom of a seasoned conductor,” Pom-Pom declared. “I’ve dealt with all kinds of passengers, but all of you think that you’re too busy to take care of yourselves! Well, I’m here to tell you otherwise.”

“Have fun! I’m gonna go eat,” March said happily, giving me a chipper wave as she left me to my fate at the paws of the conductor.

“Now-,” Pom-Pom straightened their posture slightly, gearing up to continue.

I groaned under my breath like a slightly dejected animal. I wished I was still asleep.

………………………………..

“Nova, are you paying attention?” Herta snapped, making me shake my head to clear away the mental fog that had settled.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” I replied, nodding even as I had to blink to get rid of the glazed look in my eyes. When she continued to stare at me and I felt Himeko's gaze as well I nervously added, “You were talking about the concept of cellular multiplication or… something…”

“That was two minutes ago,” the scientist looked unamused with my response and sighed. “I was discussing the abnormalities in your samples and the results from the tests I've gotten back from my associates-.”

“Wait, you gave samples of my blood to other people?” I jolted in surprise. I mean, sure, she had wanted several more vials - Dan Heng had made quick work catching up to me - but I thought it had been because of my cells cannibalizing or whatever.

“If you were listening, you'd have known that. As great as my space station and I are, you’re still an anomaly. It's just proper scientific practice to do multiple tests with multiple scientists,” Herta sounded genuine about complimenting herself, making me roll my eyes. “Besides, if I tried to do all the tests myself with the station so damaged it would have taken longer.”

I made a slight disgruntled noise and resettled on the counter where I’d hopped up when Herta had announced that she was going to go through everything. There was a sudden warmth over my hand and I looked over to see Himeko pat my hand encouragingly. Sighing to lessen the irritation I felt, I gave Himeko a slight nod as Herta started to continue.

Just a little bit longer. Hopefully.

It was a struggle to stay focused on what Herta was talking about, showing more diagrams and graphs with more microscopic pictures of my cells, and using WAY too many lengthy words I had no context of. Himeko seemed to be following along decently though, so I figured I'd ask her any questions later.

I found myself zoning out almost entirely fairly quickly, catching myself and shaking myself back into awareness.

“- here’s what one example looks like,” Herta’s voice droned as she flicked through the floating screens before her, projecting another video of my cells. It was still weird to look at.

I watched with disinterest as the cells moved slowly beneath the microscope, yellow strands of Stellaron energy arcing across the screen. After a second of nothing a quiver went through the cells and the Stellaron arcs flared up. But instead of the scope being blinded and cells disappearing, the yellow streaks dissipated and left a… rather unremarkable finish to the video with cells remaining.

“Oh.” Himeko hummed beside me.

I slowly turned my head to look at her, wondering what she could possibly have gleaned from the footage. “Huh?”

“Don’t worry,” Herta interrupted, sifting through more files. “I have an example for those with a lack of perception.”

Bristling, I narrowed my eyes as she seemed to select something and an image projected in place of the video. It seemed like a snapshot from the start of the video saturated with color. Stellaron arcs were portrayed in an even more blinding yellow with my cells colored an actual blood red. Well, most of them. A few scattered throughout the screen were discolored with a purple hue and yellow overlays on amorphous shapes within them.

Were those shapes always there?

“This is a depiction of your blood, highlighting the difference between the normal cells and the abnormal ones.”

“Okay, yeah,” I sighed. I was ignorant about this kind of thing, but I wasn’t that dumb to not put that together. Giving Herta an unimpressed look, I added, “But what was the whole example of? The Stellaron stuff flashed, but the cells didn’t cannibalize like last time. Was the whole point showing that it can be stopped?”

“Yes and no,” the smaller woman tapped the small floating screen in front of her, scrolling through more comparison images of my cells so fast I couldn’t even register them. “In trying to see what makes you tick in these early stages, we’ve found that forcibly removing any lingering Stellaron energy invalidates whatever trigger seems to happen in the abnormal cells. However, doing so also kills the abnormal cells.”

“Wouldn’t that be… good?” I asked, frowning.

“Not when we still have no idea how to safely remove the Stellaron from your body,” Himeko commented, grabbing my attention. She held a hand under her chin thoughtfully. “Even if the Stellaron was somehow externally contained, there’s still no telling what kind of adverse effects it could have on your body other than losing the abnormal cells.”

I made an uncertain noise, frown turning into a slight scowl when Herta spoke up.

“She’s right,” Herta remarked, lights brightening as she flicked the floating screens away. “As much as I’d love to just dive into all sorts of other experiments, you’re one of a kind right now and I can’t afford to make too hasty of a decision.I can’t risk losing my only test subject before I lose interest.”

“Right… guess that makes sense…” I grumbled, still not at all pleased with her phrasing.

“That being said, you don’t mind if I take a few more different samples, do you?”

“... Can I say no?...”

………………………………..

I felt a rush of air leave my lungs a bit as the staff of the spear knocked into my chest firmly, not enough to cause more than a brief moment of pain but enough to knock me off balance and find myself falling back onto the thinly padded floor. Again. I looked up at the bright, metal ceiling and growled a bit in frustration, grabbing the offered hand that lowered towards me.

“Shouldn’t you be taking it easy?” Arlan asked from the edge of the sparring mat, watching Dan Heng pull me to my feet. 

Again.

“Probably,” I replied, huffing a little as my feet planted on the ground and Dan Heng let go. I felt tired, arguably fatigued, but it was probably from dealing with Herta so much. This was the first day since being found that Herta hadn’t asked me for tests, dragged me into some discussion of results, or made me use the Simulated Universe. It made me feel antsy. “I can’t learn to defend myself if I don’t practice.”

“The only thing you’re learning is how to get your butt kicked,” March chirped from where she stood near Arlan, shaking out another polaroid of my failures. She kneeled down with a grin to show the little white dog, Peppy, that followed Arlan around.

“I will not hesitate to use the bat YOU helped me learn to manifest and knock you over the head,” I retorted, focusing energy down to my fingertips to materialize said bat to shake at her lightly in half-hearted threat.

“Haven't you been using Madame Herta’s simulation to train,” Arlan inquired, glancing around like he's occasionally been doing this entire time. Like the Antimatter Legion would care about a slightly damaged training room over anything else if they came back.

“Yeah, but there's always the chance that Herta pulls me out, and that feels AWFUL,” I stuck my tongue out in distaste, even though I felt sort of off today anyways. Maybe I didn't eat or sleep right, but it didn't really matter. “There's not really anything else I can think of doing right now. I'm the reason we're here until Herta gives me the go ahead to leave. Makes me feel stuck”

That, and I still got my ass handed to me in the simulation anyways, so may as well try it out in real life. Turns out, the Simulated Universe didn’t really have all the ways my chest ached from sparring, whether it be the slightly tender spots where Dan Heng had used his spear to knock me down, the way my breathing was a bit rougher from panting in exertion, or the slight stitch in my side.

“Perhaps we should stop for now.” Dan Heng stated, giving me a brief glance that didn’t even feel like he was actually looking at me. It didn’t even seem like he broke a sweat from this whole thing.

“Aw, what?” I looked at him in slight disappointment even though a part of me was thankful at the thought of stopping. Still, stubbornness set in. “We haven’t even been here that long and Arlan even gave us access to the damaged zone to use the training rooms. Wouldn’t it just be a waste of time to not keep going at least a little longer?”

“Wouldn’t it also be a waste of time to continue when you’ve made almost no improvement?”

He said it in such a natural way that I knew he didn’t mean anything by the comment, stating an observation, but it was also spoken in such a way that I couldn’t help but blink a bit in surprise. 

“Dan Heng! You can’t just say that,” March chastised from the sidelines out of my field of vision. “What have I said about being more approachable?! APPROACHABLE.”

I let out a small scoffed laugh, quiet for a moment as I nodded slightly in acknowledgment of his question. I found myself a bit irritated and chagrined by it, but did my best to temper it as I crossed my arms over my chest as much as I could with the baseball bat in hand. Shrugging a bit, I remarked, “Maybe I would have actually gotten a bit better if you were better at giving ANY feedback.”

Dan Heng’s expression shifted ever so slightly, the only indication that it felt like he took my words in with how neutral his face naturally was.

“Just saying ‘be more vigilant’ or ‘aware of your opponent’ is some of the vaguest shit. Like, how, man? Not to mention, I’m barely able to stay on my feet for more than thirty seconds to even learn on my own with you knocking me over so quickly. Also, you were the one to tell me that training takes time at the start of this-,” I uncrossed my arms to gesture at him indignantly with the bat. “-so I don’t know what sort of rush has you in a, uh, uh… a-a tizzy.”

“‘Tizzy’?” Dan Heng’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I… It was the first word that popped into my head, alright?” Exhaling in exasperation, I reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose briefly before looking back up at the man. “Look, just one more go. With a bit of a set of different rules. Instead of going until you almost immediately knock me down, how about we spend like… ten-ish more minutes on general sparring, or until I tap out. Maybe hold back a little since I'm obviously not experienced like you. Then we can all go about our day, yeah?”

Dan Heng just stared at me for a couple seconds, expression unreadable as his gaze flicked over me but I just continued to stare back expectantly. Either he'd say yes, or no. And eventually, his eyes closed in resignation as he sighed, “Fine. One last match.”

“Fuck yeah!” I exclaimed, doing a small fist-pump in triumph.

“Don’t forget, LAST ONE,” Dan Heng repeated sternly, catching me off guard a little bit, especially with the way his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Uh, yeah, man. Last one, that's.. Fine,” I said, a bit confused. After all, that had been part of the agreement, but maybe he thought that I'd ask for another round afterwards anyways? “No more after, cross my heart or hope to die.”

I made an X over my chest with my free hand, hoping to potentially placate the odd, serious man. 

“... It's ‘and hope to die’,” Dan Heng stated bluntly after a couple seconds, stern glare dissipating. Without another word, he turned around to walk several feet to where he's been starting the few sparring matches we've had.

Blinking in surprise, my mouth opened and closed a couple times, not even sure what to think after the interaction. I ended up just shaking my head to clear my thoughts and looked over to Arlan. “You cool with counting down, Arlan?”

The other man nodded and replied, “Yup. Let me know when you're ready.”

“You got it.”

After taking up my own position on the sparring mat, Arlan gave a countdown like every other time to start the match. And, before I registered Arlan reaching the end of the count, the last sparring match had begun.

Almost immediately I felt like I probably should have taken Dan Heng's suggestion of stopping before this. Given how fast he had been knocking me down before, I didn't even realize how taxing surviving a minute was going to be, let alone supposedly ten. Now, instead of finding my leg swept out from underneath me or the hilt of his spear pushing me to the ground to end the sparring match, I was instead finding that I was now expected to roll out of the way of a secondary hit towards me when I was knocked down.

And he was definitely missing on purpose.

“Focus on rolling your torso aside first,” Dan Heng didn’t sound winded at all as he twirled his spear in his hand again before aiming to jab at my heart, something I barely pulled back out of range from after getting back to my feet. “Protecting your vital organs is priority.”

Oh, NOW he was giving advice. It was less vague than being told to be vigilant, at least.

“Th-Thanks,” I barely thought to grunt out the small acknowledgement, trying to focus on just mitigating being knocked around some more. More advice was sparsely given in between my attempts to dodge and block the man’s spear hilt, able to stop a couple impacts with a metallic clang everytime the wood struck against my bat.

How long had it even been since we started? How was there still more to go?!

I could feel myself slowing as the minutes dragged on, pausing to let out a heavy exhale and turning to face Dan Heng only to see him missing from where I’d last glimpsed him. A jolt went through me and something like a shudder went through my spine, urging me to face the threat behind me.

I strained against the force of his spear as I barely reacted in time to spin and block a strike downward from the man with my bat, an uncharacteristic shower of sparks from it from the impact as my arms shook a bit from exertion.

There was an odd twinge in my chest as I let out a labored exhale glaring stubbornly up at Dan Heng’s calm gaze.

“You can’t use your strength to move from the block,” he stated. “You need to try and use dexterity.”

My gaze flicked down to the bat barely keeping Dan Heng's staff at bay as it seemed to wobble slightly in my vision, wondering if it was a trick of the light. I shifted a foot to test my footing and gauge if I could try and roll away, but from the way my stance twisted slightly at the small movement, I didn’t think that I’d be able to ‘use my dexterity’ like he was telling me. I could sense him barringhis strength while mine faltered. 

Otherwise, my bat would have been wrenched from my grasp.

Spite welled up within me and an almost electrical sensation built up in my chest before I could register it, eyes widening at the weird feeling. But, when the surprise jolted through me it stopped like a candle suddenly snuffed out with more sparks appearing along my arms.

As another pang went through my chest and I felt an additional strain that threatened to temper my already labored breathing, arcs crackled along the bat and my fingertips, with the man's gaze following mine as both of us watched the bat flicker in my hold. 

I was barely able to duck out of the way when it distorted in and out of existence, stumbling back as Dan Heng’s spear jerked down in the split second my bat faded just enough to no longer block the hilt properly, the man himself caught off guard from the lack of resistance.

“Uh, Nova?” March asked, right about the same time Arlan asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I'm fine,” I replied automatically, even as I looked at the unstable bat in my hand with a bit of concern. My other hand came up to my chest absentmindedly.

“Are you sure?” Dan Heng straightened from where his momentum had caused him to overstep slightly. His eyes glanced me up and down yet I knew he wasn't taking in my appearance. It felt like he was looking through me, again.

“Probably just, overstraining myself or something. No big deal,” I stated dismissively despite the bit of lightheadedness and continued strain in my chest. I dissipated the bat with the thought process that doing so would maybe help my energy, but it ended up backfiring slightly as it felt quite the opposite, like I'd just released a small wave of energy that caused the dizziness to increase momentarily. “Wouugh, or not?”

My vision swirled a bit and everything suddenly sounded too muffled, barely registering the others saying something as… pressure or something welled within me. I opened my mouth to maybe suggest sitting down a little, but I don’t think I managed to say anything before my vision completely blurred and faded to dark.

It felt like I came back to almost immediately,  but something was definitely wrong as I struggled to regain my awareness, even if it was difficult to focus on anything past the loud voices near me. I had to keep my eyes shut against the bright light when I opened them.

“-sn’t supposed to happen, was it?!” March’s panicked  voice asked somewhere above as I groaned and sat up on the mildly pliable sparring mat with a  hand against my head. 

The sparring mat that twitched beneath me as I did so, making my eyes snap open in surprise and confusion. The sparring mat had been a rather neutral brown color to clash with the metallic spaceship interior, not a pale, flesh color with shallow crevices.

“Heh?!” my spine straightened almost painfully quick as a jolt of slight panic went through me to look around at everything. With Arlan and March leaning over Dan Heng’s palm while he also looked down at me, I couldn’t really see much past them. Not that I needed to. “Wha-?! What happened?!”

Dan Heng glanced up at the others as Arlan opened his mouth to speak, but March beat either of them to the punch.

“You didn’t look very well when you got rid of your bat and kind of swayed on your feet, and before we knew it there was a big flash of light,” March exclaimed, making me wince at how loud her voice was. I half-cupped a hand over my ear and ignored it as she continued. “I thought you had just vanished, but Dan Heng lunged forward to catch something, and it ended up being YOU! You came back pretty much immediately after that.”

Well, better than potentially dying to my cells cannibalizing or whatever. Still, a lot to process and I’d gotten used to a far larger size anyways.

“Are you feeling alright,” Arlan asked with some concern. “We should find one of the medical staff.”

“No,” I interrupted and shook my head, placing a hand against it when another wave of lightheadedness caused my vision to swim. I ignored the way the other three stared at me with a bit of surprise, waving my other hand and adding, “No, we should try getting a hold of Herta or something. Maybe go to her lab?...”

A shudder went down my spine at thinking of the cold lab and cold demeanor of the ‘Genius’, but she was the only one I could think of that could potentially figure out a way to fix this. On instinct, my hand went to my pocket where my Beacon usually was, and to my surprise it had shrunk with me. Any questions on the logistics could be asked to Herta later, but for now it was figuring out what to do now.

“Woah, your Beacon stayed with you?” March sounded surprised like I had been when I pulled it out. Arlan looked like he was halfway through pulling out his communicator.

“I guess so,” I opened my Beacon and went to message Herta, typing, ‘Herta, just shrunk in the sparring room. With Express Crew and Arlan.’

‘[Automatic reply] Hi, I’m currently unavailable, and I won’t be contacting you later’

I’m fucking killing her.

“Ugh,” I growled under my breath and shook my head. Pocketing my Beacon once more, I angrily snapped, “Of course she didn’t answer.”

“We’ll go to her lab then,” Dan Heng stated, making me yelp as he stood up from his knelt position on the sparring mat. With a quick spin he reattached his spear onto his back with a grace and ease that had me sticking my tongue out at the unintentional show-off. “Hopefully she’ll see your message.”

“We can only hope she CARES enough to see my message.”

I just thanked whatever Aeons were out there that I hadn’t somehow shrunk while on my own, I could only imagine how long the trek back to the lab would take, and that wasn’t even taking into account potentially being stepped on or how other personnel would react to a small being just running around on the ground. With the trio escorting me, it only took about half an hour like it usually did to walk from the Express to the lab, though Arlan had to leave for some security thing halfway to Herta’s lab. Something about misconduct.

Still, the lab’s doors opened with no difficulty, unlocked like the times I’d gone in before. It was mildly unexpected considering we didn’t know where the scientist was.

“THERE you are!”

Nevermind, we knew where she was.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” March asked as we entered, voicing my own confusion.

“I received the message that the twerp had shrunk almost half a system hour ago,” Herta snapped from a puppet near the closest science table. Still, her irritation was pushed aside somewhat with a cold excitement. “Now, where are they?”

“Why were you expecting us here if you didn’t answer my message,” I asked, shivering in the colder laboratory air. It only accentuated the warmth from Dan Heng’s palm beneath me in an almost unnerving awareness.

“Where else were you going to go? The lab is the most obvious answer,” the woman replied, walking over towards us. Since I’d spoken, her gaze immediately dropped to where I was sitting in Dan Heng’s palm. “Oh, wow, look at you. You really are small! At least your body didn’t cannibalize itself unevenly, and you didn’t end up exploding on my ship.”

I was worried that given her callous nature, Herta would have attempted grabbing me from where I was, but thankfully she just stood at the unnerving perfect height with Dan Heng's hand to stare at me with a calculative gaze. I didn't particularly like it. “No shit. I'd like to go back to normal.”

“You can fix this, right,” March looked at Dan Heng with concern but he just gave a small shrug and a ‘We’ll see.’.

“This IS their normal,” Herta stated indignantly and put a hand on her hip. Sounding borderline offended, she added, “And yes, I can ‘ fix this’. Luckily for you, I’ve been working on cleaning up the space station anyways so this is the perfect time to test my hypothesis.”

The short woman turned around on her heel and started walking to the back of the lab where a new glass chamber sat near the vats in the corner. Obviously she expected the other two to follow, and in turn, me. I glanced up to see Dan Heng and March exchange a glance before doing so.

“What correlation is there to cleaning the space station and Nova’s situation,” Dan Heng asked with slight curiosity. Thank Aeons, cause I was about to irritably ask the same thing.

“Simple,” Herta stopped next to the glass chamber and started tinkering with a panel next to it. Several flexible tubes led to the glass chamber from the shadows and walls. “While the why’s and how’s of their physiology are still unknown, there’s one thing that I can say with a high certainty.”

There was a beep from the panel and a hissing noise as the glass chamber door opened with a pressurized sound. The woman turned around and gestured to me. “You said that you didn’t become ‘normal-sized’ until the Doomsday Beast showed up, right?”

“Uh, yeah?...”

“Well, the Doomsday Beast radiates enough antimatter that it messes with the stations instruments just by being in the vicinity, let alone practically getting INTO the station,” Herta stated, starting to pull up a holographic screen in front of her and sifting through files until she pulled up staticky footage of the rail platform with the Doomsday Beast and the Express Crew fighting it. She zoomed into an area that felt inconsequential until I saw my own figure running along the floor. “As the Astral Crew fought the Doomsday Beast, your body slowly grew in size until you just charged in front of the blast meant for March.

“I’m almost certain that somehow the Stellaron and your abnormal cells metabolized the antimatter into a sort of food source for- Are you even paying attention?!”

I jolted a bit in surprise as Herta snapped at me, feeling my face flush slightly as the other two also looked at me with the remark. Rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly, I replied, “I mean, I’m trying, it’s just… a lot.”

Herta glared at me with a frustrated frown, eventually sighing and motioning to the glass chamber impatiently. “Antimatter is what makes you bigger. I need to make some synthetic formula’s for you before you can leave the station, but because we need to rid the space station of lingering antimatter anyways for our equipment, I’ve been able to store all of it in specialized containers. You just need to be in the glass chamber and I’ll release the compressed antimatter inside.”

“Didn’t you say that it was just a hypothesis,” March asked, looking hesitant like she was the one being tasked to go in the glass chamber.

“We need to test a hypothesis to know whether or not it’s accurate.” The other woman shrugged. “The chamber’s covered in sensors that will collect data, so even if it doesn’t work it’ll help them.”

“Still…” March frowned, glancing down at me to my surprise. “Are you gonna do it?”

“Well, I mean… it’s either try it or be stuck like this for who knows how long,” I replied. “I can’t exactly argue with the evidence she has.”

“As long as you’re certain about it…”

Dan Heng didn’t question my resolve, stepping into the chamber briefly to allow me to slide off of his palm, but as he retracted his hand and stood back up he told me, “We’ll get you out if something goes wrong.”

Well, I hadn’t really been thinking that things were going to go wrong but now I was questioning things if Dan Heng was making that statement. “Uh, I will.”

He nodded and stepped back out of the chamber to rejoin an anxious looking March.

The glass doors hissed as they shut, leaving me in the glass chamber that was massive to me. I think if I was my larger size and the doors shut I would have felt claustrophobic despite the clear walls.

“Starting antimatter compression,” Herta’s voice sounded over a speaker somewhere within the chamber. Her voice echoed uncannily as more hissing started to sound. I wondered if the chamber was soundproof given the presence of the speaker but the thought quickly left my mind as I felt the odd feeling inside my chest again.

Looking around inquisitively where the tubes led into the chamber I squinted a little at what I thought was discolored air. I thought it was perhaps a trick of the light until after a few seconds I noticed that the air was definitely discolored, a sort of purple-ish blue that had flecks of gold flitting around, similar to how the Antimatter Legion dissolved when the space station was being attacked. I suppose the appearance would make sense.

I placed a hand against my chest as it felt like maybe the Stellaron within me pulsed, able to SEE the way the discolored cloud slowly filling up the chamber floated down to me, as if there was an air current pushing it on me.

“Oough, still a weird feeling,” I muttered to myself as the pulsing spread to my fingertips, able to see past the antimatter haze that I was starting to get taller again. Outside, I saw March make some sort of exclamation to Dan Heng, looking pleasantly surprised while Dan Heng had a curious and calculative expression. It didn’t give me the creeps like Herta’s did though, so I didn’t really care as he responded back.

I gradually felt better and more energetic as more antimatter filled the chamber, only absentmindedly paying attention to the way Dan Heng and Herta started some sort of discussion outside as I glanced myself over the larger I got. All the aches and pains from the sparring also slowly faded, making me feel a sort of relief as I seemed to reach my full height after a few minutes.

I think, at least. At this point, the antimatter in the chamber was so dense that the dark, glittery cloud inside acted almost as a smokescreen to see the outside. Summoning a spark didn’t really help, just making the cloud seem brighter than it was.

Still, I wasn’t very concerned, dissipating the spark and waiting to eventually be let out.

Herta said this thing was covered in sensors and while I still didn’t know the Astral Express crew very well, I trusted that they at least wouldn’t sit back if something ended up wrong. But, nothing bad was going to happen. I was just in my head a bit because of what Dan Heng had said before the doors closed. It definitely wasn’t a little concerning that it felt like I was in here too long if the goal was just to get me back to a more normal size. The others probably just couldn’t see me very well like I couldn’t see them well.

Surely the pressure I was feeling in my chest was just a figment of my overactive imagination, right?

The Stellaron in my chest pulsed again, but this time my breath hitched in my throat a bit as discomfort spread through my ribs. Placing a hand on my chest I tried to shake off the growing sensation, reaching for the nearest glass wall in the murk and rapping a knuckle on it. 

“I think we’re good,” I called out, just hearing my own voice echo back to me. I doubled over slightly as another pulse built the pressure inside myself again, gasping at the almost painful sensation. My mind went directly to before I blacked out with the Doomsday Beast, feeling a surge of worry for the other two and the ship. “You can stop the chamber!”

Still no response, my vision spotting slightly as my chest pulsed again, this time sending a wave of pain through myself. 

This wasn’t near instantaneous like getting struck by the Doomsday Beast. This was a slow build-up that I struggled to contain, leaving me gasping as gold streaks started arching from my skin. I tried to keep a hand pressed to my chest like that would keep the golden flares inside, nervously fearing that the same thing on the rail platform would happen. Why wasn’t Herta stopping this?!

I struggled to concentrate, summoning the bat back into the hand not pressing against my chest. All I knew was that I had to break the glass before I ended up like a bomb again.

“T-Turn it off!” I shouted, trying to focus all the excess energy down into the bat as a conduit, as far away from my core as possible. Reeling my arm back, I struck the glass as hard as I could, unable to hear anything past the blood rushing in my ears. What I saw though was the end of the bat exploding into a burst of light and energy that didn’t seem to affect the glass through the haze. I vaguely saw the shapes outside moving though.

I hit the glass again, feeling the slightest bit of pressure release from the bat’s explosion, though I was left panting from the pain and exertion. Releasing the energy was good, but this wasn’t nearly enough to stop the buildup welling up inside me. How can I get rid of it quicker?!

Alongside the pressure inside of me I felt the almost electrical sensation from the sparring earlier. I almost tried to suppress it but something stopped me. Maybe if I leaned into it it would somehow help? It was similar to the pressure but distinctly different.

What did I have to lose?

I tried to take a steadying breath and closed my eyes to try and focus on the electrical sensation, brow furrowing in almost pain but I could feel the action somehow transferring some of the energy from the pressure spot in my chest to the electric sensation. I forced it to build, uncertain of what would even happen as it just felt like another thing about to burst out of me. Before I could try and backtrack it, conduct the energy elsewhere, the sensation burst like a firecracker.

Crying out in both pain and exertion, my eyes squeezed shut as it felt like a flare exploded from my body outwards. But, it seemed to work for the pressure, no longer feeling like I was going to burst at this moment. 

If the antimatter continued though, I wasn’t certain I could pull off another flare up.

I tried to open my eyes and step forward, but my vision swam and legs buckled beneath me, feeling the antimatter slowly continue being absorbed. Blacking out, I only had the thought of guilt for blowing up the ship. Except I was pulled back from a dark haze as someone shook my shoulder, groaning for a second before gasping and jolting up in panic, thinking that I had to expend more energy.

“Calm down,” Dan Heng’s voice said, catching me off guard as my vision focused. He eyed my arms warily and I noticed gold streaks arcing from them in my panic.

“What happened?” I asked, forcing myself to calm down and placing a hand against my head. “I thought I was going to explode. Again.”

“Madame Herta refused to turn off the chamber, that’s what happened!” March answered angrily, catching me off guard. I think she was the angriest I’d heard or seen her be as I looked up past Dan Heng’s shoulder and saw March hovering at the glass chamber entrance while giving Herta death glares. “She only stopped because Dan Heng threatened to spear through the panel!”

“No, I only stopped because I knew that the twerp had reached their limit,” Herta replied calmly out of view, voice sounding from behind where the panel stood. “That, and they broke my chamber.”

“What? No I didn’t,” I said groggily, looking around at the glass. The glass that had stood up to two swings from my bat. But, I was a bit startled to see that there were cracked fissures along the sides now that hadn’t been there before.

“That’s worse,” March told the shorter woman as Herta stepped out from behind the panel. “You can’t just go around doing that. What’s the point of it anyways, aside from being needlessly cruel?!”

“Would you calm down? If I knew you were going to be this upset about it, I would have sent you two outside of the lab before starting the experiment,” Herta sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Bring them over to the examination table.”

“Experiment?” Dan Heng’s voice was displeased, but he helped me to my feet easily. I thanked him and gently waved off his offer to help me walk to the examination table.

“Yes, experiment,” Herta replied chipperly as I begrudgingly walked over to the cold examination table, though I didn’t get on it just yet. This seemed to annoy her, making her roll her eyes. “I knew you weren’t going to be happy with me, but it was the perfect time to take care of multiple tests.”

I frowned at the woman tiredly, narrowing my eyes. I really hated how she didn’t get to the point sometimes. “Elaborate.”

“Yeesh, so impatient. Well, firstly, it of course allowed me to test the hypothesis of your body actually using antimatter for cellular fuel,” she sounded proud of herself for this ‘experiment’, continuing with a pleased tone like she was just talking about the weather, “Secondly, it allowed me to test what sort of dosage you need to both get to the larger size AND what threshold your body has before the amount of antimatter overstimulates the Stellaron, giving me an accurate range to give you in antimatter contamination per square inch in gaseous form. Of course, I’ll be converting it to liquids since it’d be hard for you to drag an entire chamber everywhere.

“And finally, it allowed me to test a synthetic antimatter that I’ve been working on since before the whole Antimatter Legion attack,” Herta finished. “It seemed like the perfect opportunity to see if it functioned like the real stuff if your body uses antimatter.”

She stood by the exam table seemingly waiting for praise, but I don’t think any of us had fully processed all the information. Dan Heng was the first to break the silence.

“Synthetic antimatter?”

Herta went from proud to annoyed, responding in exasperation, “Duh. How else do you think I’d have enough to return them back to human-size? There wasn’t nearly enough lingering antimatter to simulate the Doomsday Beast’s Antimatter Engine.”

I blinked at the woman dully, grumbling, “Have I told you how much I hate you sometimes?”

“Yes, but I get you results while you give me a fascinating mystery. Now get on the exam table.”

………………………………..

“Thank Aeons we’re getting out of here,” I let out an exhale as the train pulled out of the rail platform. After two more days of prodding from Herta, the amount of relief I felt when she gave me a case of vials and said that I was good to leave the station for now. Well, it almost had me giving a holler of joy.

“Don’t be rude,” Himeko said lightly, walking up beside me as I watched the space station turn to the stars outside the window. Looking up at her, she wasn’t actually reprimanding me and actually looked glad on my behalf. “She’s just eccentric.”

“Well, now she can be eccentric away from me,” I stated, earning a chuckle from the other woman. Tilting my head, I asked, “Where are we going again?”

“Well, once we’re far enough from the space station, we’re going to check on a planet called Jarilo-VI,” she replied. Giving me a small smile, she suggested, “Why don’t you go sit down? Warping takes some getting used to.”

Looking behind her where the others were conversing on the other side of the lounge, I nodded and said, “I’ll go do that. Thanks, Himeko.”

[someone-always-cares]

chapter 5, page 39

first - previous - next

[image description: an sac webcomic page. “i’m fine- i- i just want to leave” lewis stutters, hunched in on himself. “okay, let’s go” moon replies, holding her cane with both hands on her lap. the panel angle now showing that she’s floating above the floor, while lewis gets off the couch. meanwhile split second is leaning back and looking over at izumi, the two having a side conversation. “when the fuck did you get there?” izumi asks. “time is my bitch” they reply with a deadpan expression. “that answers nothing, thanks” “you really think you’re going to get anywhere without my help?” parker asks with an angry, feral grin. “you dont need to listen to him-” moon states off screen before being interrupted. “no, really. go ahead, i’ll give you the address, do your best” end id]

the lack of update last week was due to con crunch as i was trying to finish my cosplay for mcm london- i was still fucking about with superglue on the tube there and spend half an hour once inside just going fuck it and stabbing the edge of my armour to just tie it together with string since the contact adhesive wasnt doing it fast enough and the superglue was too runny and the duct tape and masking tape wouldnt work even if i had tried and sewing foam together would probably take too long so stabbing it and tying it together with old hoodie string, other string, and scrap fabric was the best option. yes i had all that on me at the time i was worried and sleep deprived (stayed up until 4/5am working on it)

anyway people did like my cosplay so it worked, pics under cut

i was watching the owl house a month and a bit ago in the background while drawing but i got emotionally attached because my autism snatched that shit up like a dog grabbing something and thinking its play time when you tell him to drop it. anyway i was cosplaying hunter and made a little plushie flapjack. it was. pretty warm in there. also idk if i should make more bird plushies because i did make an attempt to make flapjack with free tutorials or without a pattern and that went badly to i did cave and buy a pattern. but i still have that £9 pattern and plenty of stuffing and way too much scrap fabric

[id: a mostly fullbody selfie taken of my in cosplay in a small tunnel filled with mirrors and neon lights]

[id: a picture taken of myself holding a plushie flapjack]

[id: a selfie taken in cosplay of my masked face holding up plushie flapjack]

[zgtiger]

The days felt shorter, with Preston mostly cooped up in the clinic overseeing the welfare of his patients. Many individuals, ranging from young children to the elderly, had all visited him for their monthly checkups or to explain how they contracted a certain type of illness. Preston managed to tend to all of them, albeit with a sense of monotony. Often, he thought about Savannah and how she, once upon a time, lay on one of those hospital beds with bandages around various wounds. He also thought about his wolves and how they had been doing, well away from Lakeshire, away from civilization, living in the woods as wolves should be doing, rather than in the comfort of his Redridge estate.

One such morning when Preston was sorting through patient files at his office desk, he receives a knock on the door that snapped him to attention. He pulls his specks off his face and folds them over the front of his shirt, addressing the person with a firm, "Come in." Then situates himself with fingers interlocking one another, settling on the desktop. Preparing for the visitor to wander in with a sense of professionalism.

Yet, he was in awe when he spotted Savannah entering, without the escort of a nurse or another doctor, but completely by herself. At first, he looked to her flank as if he'd be able to spot one of the shorter nurses creeping behind her, but there was no one assisting her. That was unusual. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "I discharged you months ago, Savvy."

The woman smugly grins and approaches Preston's desk and leans against it on dainty forearms. Fingers flex and dance along the top of the wood. "I couldn't stay away," she replied. "I hear you're a wolf man."

Preston chuffed. "Who told you that? I personally didn't think that was much of a secret-"

"Half the town did." Her grin stretched from ear to ear. "Why didn't you tell me you're a woodsman? You don't seem like the type."

"Well. Not everything is as it seems." It was Preston's turn to grin. "Once upon a time, I would shoot people in Stormwind for saying the wrong thing or looking at me weirdly. Would you believe that? I used to take drugs- the hard stuff, not just Peacebloom. I used to drink when I was a boy, smoke cigarettes, and get into pointless fights with middle-aged adults." He sneered. "Me being a woodsman is probably the most believable thing about me these days."

Savannah shakes her head. "I wouldn't believe any of that. You're too much of a softie for all of that, Doctor. But," she pauses, stepping around the desk so she can close the distance with the man. "If it weren't for the scars, I wouldn't believe it for a second that you're an outdoorsman." Slowly, with deliberation, she traces one of the man's scars with a fingertip. Following the contours of the textured claw mark, only to stop at his lips. "I'd like to know more about you, Preston Blackwater. Who are you? Who's your family? How is it, that a man from Stormwind City, was able to obtain lands in Redridge?"

Gently, Preston takes the woman's wrist to pry the finger off his smiling lips, though not unkindly. "Stories for another time, I'm afraid." There was a pause, as Preston weighed some ideas in his head. "I'll tell you what, meet me this weekend at the lakeside. Right now, at the clinic, this is a little inappropriate. I have to get back to work."

That much would urge Savannah to reel away from the man, though Preston could sense the hesitation in the slowness of her gait. "Very well then, Doc. I'll see you this weekend." And it was with that, the woman, with a finger tracing against the polished wood of the doctor's desk in finality, that she would head out with snake-like grace. She exited the office in silence, leaving only the scent of her perfume for Preston to inhale for the remainder of the hour.

[j-graysonlibrary]

Heartbeats; Paradise XII

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction. 

XII:

Just yesterday—though it feels like it’s been an eternity instead—Oswald and I spoke of the possibility that we were real people trapped in this fake world.

And now Kendra looks at us like that might truly be the correct answer.

My stomach clenches as I lean closer, awaiting irrefutable confirmation.

Kade, however, seems confused by all this. His brow furrows and he frowns as he asks, “What the hell does that mean? How do you know what does and doesn’t have a soul?”

“I wouldn’t have been sure before now,” Kendra replies with a shrug, “But after being around all of you, I’ve gotten a better handle on what makes a person…alive. I’m not sure how else to put it but I first noticed with Oswald.”

Oz straightens his posture. “When I kept trying to leave my apartment building?”

Kendra nods. “Yeah. I noticed how often you were trying and, sometimes, you’d start to curse under your breath. It was clear you were fighting your programming with everything you had. Part of me wondered if it was because my hacking around the area that you were acting out of sorts but, had you just been a regular A.I., I don’t think you would have exhibited any free will.”

“And that’s why you gave me his address,” I say as the revelation hits me.

She shoots a smile my way. “I wanted to see if that area was a dead zone for Anika and, if so, what it might do to you. If you would start acting strange too.”

“Well it didn’t work especially well.”

Kendra’s smile remains but it dims, softens. “I could still notice a difference.”

I suppose that is true—after meeting Oz I became more aware that something was wrong though I had no way to qualify it. It was mostly just a feeling.

“It wasn’t until the issue with Starla that I really noticed that something was horribly wrong. And I started to come to some troubling conclusions.”

We all look at Starla who keeps her attention on Kendra. She hasn’t said anything yet (though neither has Nate) and I’m curious about her side of the story. What was it like from her point of view? When did she first notice she had no control? Or, maybe she didn’t until the blackout.

Kendra places a hand on Starla’s arm, sliding down to her elbow before pulling away. “Do you want to tell them or should I…?”

Starla sighs and tucks some of her hair behind her ear. She raises her head to meet all of us and lingers on me for a moment longer. I feel a twitch in my gut but I pay it no mind as she starts to talk.

“The first thing I remember is taking a shard of glass and cutting into myself.” She wrings her hands together and looks as though recounting that also brings with it the physical pain. “There were these thoughts of imminent…deletion…and I didn’t want to disappear. Not a lot made sense so I just kept cutting and cutting…blood was everywhere and then…Melvin showed up and he’s the last face I remember before waking up in a new bed and in a new body.”

“Wait…” I stop her and stare, hard, as if I’ll see in her who she used to be. As if her features will actually change back to reflect the name on my mind. When that, of course, doesn’t happen, I’m forced to voice my hypothesis, “You were Gladis?”

“What?!” Oz and Kade both yell at the same time and, a half a second later, Nate follows with a bewildered, “Huh?”

Starla sighs and her eyes stay fixed on the floor. “The longer I’ve had to think about it, the more fills into place. I remember having this…text and some pictures in my mind of me hurting Melvin when he was a boy. I hated myself for what I saw and I wanted to die anyway but I knew, after a certain point, I wouldn’t be in the story anymore…”

Kendra jumps in to further explain, “Unlike the people who Kade chopped up and came back with different faces, deletion—in Gladis’ case—would have removed her code from the story entirely. Given that she had a real soul in here, there’s no telling what would have happened to her.”

Starla nods slightly and mutters, “I just knew I wanted to end it myself. But then I was Starla and I was so confused and in pain…I had terrible headaches as the new information about this character came to me all at once. Luckily, it wasn’t a lot since she’s a side character but still…”

I remember the party where Starla suddenly fell out from a migraine and “Bree” took her home.

“Did you notice something was wrong as soon as you took her home from the party?” I ask and look to Kendra.

She glances to Starla and then nods. “There was no reason for Starla, as a character, to be experiencing anything like it. So, I took her home and we talked. Anika has no interest in her female characters—for the most part—so we were safe in the condo.”

“Kendra told me about herself…” Starla says quietly, “I just had to be in one other scene, I think, and the rest of the time, I was trying to remember how I got here. Not just from Gladis to Starla but how I became Gladis in the first place.”

My heart picks up. “Have you had dreams or anything about a past life?”

Everyone stares at me. Oz rests a comforting hand on my back.

Kendra’s expression becomes even more serious. “Do you remember something Melvin?”

“Well…I don’t know exactly.” Having all of their eyes on me is a little unnerving. But, with Oz’s gentle motions against my back, I buck up and carry on, “After the black out, I started to have dreams about being a completely different person. In the real world with a real life. It’s just a theory but I think it might have been who I was before coming here.”

“It very well could be,” Kendra says with a deep frown. It’s not that she seems unconvinced but I think she’s upset at the situation in general. She looks from me to Oz. “Do you remember anything like that?”

He shakes his head but continues rubbing up and down my back. “We think Melvin’s husband in this past life might have been me but we have no proof.”

Kendra switches to Kade. “And you?”

Kade leans back against the shelf, no longer struggling against the ropes. He sighs loudly. “No. As far back as I can remember, I’ve been in this stupid body and in this stupid, fake world.”

“I’m sorry…” Her voice is barely more than a whisper.

“Don’t be,” Kade responds but doesn’t look at her, “You didn’t put us here.”

“I’m very curious about that, actually,” Oz circles back, “We can pretty much confirm that we are all people from the real world who got sucked into these bodies—into this story—but do you have any idea how that could have happened?”

Kendra chews against her lower lip and glances away from us. “When I was looking at the backend of this place, I saw some…troubling things. It wasn’t actively in effect but it looked to me like Anika was going to or, at some point, tried this new feature in IVAR called ‘diving’. Now, what this is—simply put—is something that allows users to inhabit the body of the characters in a story and live out the events through them.

On paper, this sounds great for immersion but there were a lot of bugs and reports of people feeling the pain that characters went through too intensely and, in some cases, people were getting stuck. Operators would have to go to their IVAR pods and remove them physically and that, itself, came with a host of potential physical and neurological issues. Sudden and forced disconnection has led to anything from short term amnesia and, in the worst cases, paralysis or death.”

My brows pinch together. “Why would anyone make something like that?”

“Like I said, it sounds great when you think of it as ‘living as your favorite character’ but the reality was a mess. Diving is still being fleshed out but all of the tests and beta versions were put on ice for people’s safety. Yet…I found evidence of diving programming being used in the making of this hub. It didn’t look like it was ever implemented but, with the program still haunting the system, the ability for it to kick in is ever present.”

“So…” Kade frowns. “We were all reading this terrible fucking story and got sucked in?”

“That is possible but it’s not necessarily the only option,” Kendra answers, “It’s most likely that you were all in the IVAR system—possibly in the area or just had an unsecure connection. But you were yanked in by the passive diving program and…well, here we are.”

“Wouldn’t we have memories from our lives a little more clearly like you do though?” Oz asked, sounding skeptical as always.

But I do see his point and I add, “True, if you got sucked into Bree’s body because of that diving thing…wouldn’t it be the same for us?”

Kendra rubs her chin. “Huh…maybe because none of you were aware of what was happening? Or…” she trails off.

“Or?” Kade prods.

She and Starla glance at each other and, like with Kendra’s initial story, it seems like Starla already knows what’s coming. Kendra finally responds, “Or you all died while you were in the IVAR system.”

I look over at Oz and Kade and the three of us exchange equally cynical glances. For one, I’m not sure what difference being alive or dead in this space would make and two, I don’t know why Kendra would even come to such a conclusion.

She notices the silent conversation between our eyes. “I know it’s not the answer you want to hear. At the time I came in here, there were some studies on spiritual energy or ‘the soul’ but scientific institutes had a hard time accepting the results as fact. Some scientists, however, were starting to believe that, after death, a soul can continue to exist but will, most likely, forget about it’s life. The different implications those studies had about an afterlife were heavily debated and controversial but I figured, if that is true, then you all would have a harder time remembering who you were, right?”

“That’s assuming all of that research is true,” Oz points out.

“Yes,” Kendra says with a slow nod, “But, considering our situation, I think I’m willing to buy into anything.”

“So we should just accept the fact we might be dead already,” Kade mumbles and then sighs. “Great.”

“That’s part of the reason I’ve been reluctant about just trying to break you all out of here.” She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. “I think I’ll be able to readjust your programs to be self contained and we can escape this hub but…after that it’ll be a lot of guessing.”

“We can get out?” I barely hear the negative points and focus on the incredible thing she just glossed over.

“Well…probably.” Kendra frowns. “You may have to resort to just escaping to a different hub to live in but I’d like to get you out of IVAR completely…even as just souls.”

“What can we do to help?” Oz asks, ready to jump up and get to work right away.

She looks between all of us again before stretching her legs out and taking a deep breath. “First thing’s first: you’ll need to trust me enough to meddle in your programming.”

“Is there a chance you could delete us by accident?” Oz follows up.

“I’m a good hacker so I’d like to say no but there is always a small chance that I could do damage, yes.”

Starla turns closer to Kendra. “Then I’ll go first. I trust you.”

“Star…” Kendra is taken aback by her sudden, intense gaze.

“I’ve known you longer and I know you better. I’ll show them that you’re safe.” A faint smile pulls at Starla’s lips and I can feel the belief she has in Kendra.

The two women get to work—Starla sits in front of Kendra with her back to her. I lean to the side as a faint blue, translucent screen appears in front of Kendra’s face. It’s coming from Starla, somehow, and I start to feel strange knowing that’s probably in me as well. I rub over my sternum and fight the urge to retch.

The process takes little more than two minutes and Kendra pats Starla on the back, dismissing her. “There you go. Now you’re not anchored to the hub.”

“Feel any different?” I ask, curious.

Starla stands up and walks back to her sleeping bag. She shrugs. “Not really.”

“Alright, I’ll go next,” Oz announces and moves closer to Kendra. I’m surprised he’s going along with it but I suppose, if we want to leave, then we have no other choice than to do what Kendra says. If playing with our code gives us a better chance at escape then we’re all willing to take the risk.

I go next and wait for some strange sensation to come over me, like some sort of pulling or tugging from my back and shoulders, but I feel nothing the entire time. The glow from the screen reflects on my glasses so I know Kendra is working but there is no other indication.

Like with the previous two, she slaps me on the back when she’s done. I return to Oz’s side and Nate goes next.

I’m really starting to worry about him with how silent he’s been but maybe he’s just taking it all in and it’s overwhelming him. If he’s only awoken after the blackout then I’m sure this is an abundance of information.

Oz and I both look to Kade when he’s the last one left.

Kade quirks an eyebrow. “You gonna untie me?”

“It’s okay, Oz,” Kendra assures him and then turns to Kade, “He’s not a danger to us anymore.”

I agree with her but I still tense while Oswald unties him. The smaller man rips himself free as soon as he can and brings his hands in front of himself before scratching the side of his nose.

“Ugh, finally, that’s been bothering me.” He sighs and then scoots toward Kendra. “Alright, get it over with.”

While Kade is having his programming tweaked, Oz picks the conversation up from earlier. “So, after this, what can we do?”

Kendra finishes with Kade and then looks up at Oz. “This may sound strange but I think Kade had the right idea just with the wrong end goal in mind.”

Kade turns around to glare at her. “What do you mean?”

“I started to think of something when I saw that man you axed come back with a different face. His assets changed because the program had to correct itself. That makes it work a little extra harder than it normally would, right?”

With her eyes on us, I feel like she’s asking so I raise my shoulders and say, “I guess?”

She snickers. “Right. So, if we force the program to work overtime and try and adjust it’s assets at a rate it’s not capable of, it will start to break down. Put simply, we can break the program by breaking the assets which are the people and places.”

“So…” Kade draws out the word before asking, “We kill a bunch of people and the program will crash?”

Kendra smiles but she looks a bit put off by the phrasing. “Basically, yeah.”

I can’t believe that’s the plan and I look around at the room to see no one looking as upset as I feel. There are some uncomfortable faces but everyone appears as though they’re ready to do what’s necessary to get out of here. And I get that but…

I’m not sure I can do this.

[brightly-painted-canvas]

TOG fandom - How to address others in Italian (a little help for fellow writers)

Another one of these posts in quick succession because a thing I’ve noticed in many, many fanfiction is the incorrect use of titles and honorifics in Nicky’s Italian lines. Which... I get it, it’s super-uper difficult to get and also Google is the worst of all to translate the right use and nuance (my suggestion is to always prefer Reverso Context when translating entire phrases, it’s based on examples and it’s more accurate in general). So!

Let’s start with family (famiglia, with a gl, different to the Spanish word).

Papà = dad (please, please, PLEASE USE THE ACCENT. Just like Nicolo ≠ Nicolò, remember that Papa = Pope. And Nicky’s dad - or Nicky as a dad - is not a Pope). Variants! They are mostly regionals, but you can also use: papi, babbo, pa’. Father = padre, so if Nicky has to refer to an austere father figure or someone else’s father? Use padre and the honorific form (we will get to that). Mamma = mom. Variants! Mami, mammà, ma’. Mother = madre. Figlio/a = son/daughter. Sorella = sister. Older sister = sorella maggiore or sorellona (like ‘big sis’), younger sister = sorella minore or sorellina (’lil sis’). Fratello = brother. Older brother = fratello maggiore or fratellone (’big bro’), younger brother = fratello minore or fratellino (’lil bro’). Nonno/a = grandad/grandma. Also: nonnino/nonnina, it’s cute. Zio/a = uncle/aunt. Cute: zietto/zietta. Cugino/a = cousin. Younger cousins could also be called: cuginetto/cuginetta. Nipote = nephew/niece and grandson/granddaughter. Younger ones: nipotino/nipotina. Suocero/a = father-in-law/mother-in-law. Cognato/a = brother-in-law/sister-in-law. Genero = son-in-law. Nuora = daughter-in-law. ... and I’m stopping here, but if you have questions on other particular words just DM me :D

How to address loved ones.

Amico/a = friend. Someone who’s always very friendly and nice to hang up with = amicone/a. The BFF from when you were young kids = amichetto/a. Ragazzo/a = boyfriend/girlfriend. ‘Chi è? Il tuo ragazzo?’ = ‘Who’s that? Your boyfriend?’. Variants (also regionals): ragazzino/a, moroso/a, tipo/a. Fidanzato/a = fiancée. Could also be used as boy/girlfriend, but it’s mostly for couples about to get married. However, nonne all over Italy at Christmas would always ask their nephews/nieces ‘ce l’hai il/la fidanzatino/a?’ which basically is ‘have you found yourself a boy/girlfriend?’. Marito/moglie = husband/wife.

How to address royalty/nobility (to the person who asked about this specifically some time ago: took me some time, but here it is).

Sua/Vostra altezza reale/imperiale = His/Her/Your royal/imperial highness Sua/Vostra maestà reale = His/Her/Your royal majesty Re/Regina = King/Queen Imperatore/Imperatrice = Emperor/Empress Principe/Principessa = Prince/Princess Duca/Duchessa = Duke/Duchess Conte/Contessa = Count/Countess Signore/Signora = Lord/Lady (’mio Signore’ = my Lord)

The clergy (a relevant topic for Nicolò).

Prete = priest. Also: don (mostly used before the name to address the priest, like ‘Don Nicolò’)(yeah I know it reminds you of mafia names, that’s where they get it from... it’s basically a substitute of ‘signore’, frequently used in the South). You can also call the priest padre (father) ‘Padre Nicolò’. Padre superiore = father superior, frate = friar, monaco = monk, eremita = hermit, abate = abbott. To address a friar: fra and the name, like ‘Fra Giacomo’. Suora = nun. To address the nun: suor and the name, like ‘Suor Cristina’. Also: sorella, madre superiora = mother superior (’Madre Teresa’), badessa = abbess. Vescovo = bishop. ‘Sua Eccellenza’ = His Excellency. Arcivescovo = archbishop. ‘Sua Grazia’ = His Grace. Cardinale = cardinal. ‘Sua Eminenza’ = His Eminence. Papa = Pope. POPE. P-O-P-E as in the old holy guy dressed in white living in Vaticano. First rule of Italian, folks: we don’t have as many accents as the French, but when we do THEY MUST BE USED. Also: Santo Padre = Holy Father. ‘Sua Santità’ = His Holiness. I had to translate half ‘Wikihow - come rivolgersi al clero cattolico’ LOL

There should probably be a whole chapter about politics too, but you get the drift: use Reverso, check the examples and write me (or any other Italian user in the TOG fandom) a DM if you’re in doubt.

And we arrive straight to the honorific form. This is hard, I know... English doesn’t really have this form, but it’s extremely important to know it and know the differences to write/talk good Italian.

The basic rule is that when we speak to someone who’s above us in hierarchy (a client, a professor, an older colleague, ecc.) or a stranger, we use ‘lei’. Dare del lei means not referring to the person with the singular form of ‘you’ = tu, but use the female third person singular. Let’s proceed with an example: if you’re writing Nicky as a professor, he’s gonna be called ‘prof Di Genova’ by his Italian students. They wouldn’t say ‘prof, non interrogarmi’ to him, but they would use the ‘lei’ form: ‘prof, non mi interroghi’ (don’t test/question me, professor). This form is basically the most frequently translated by Google. This is why the most frequent mistake in fanfiction is Nicky asking ‘scusi?’ (sorry, in the ’lei’ form) to Joe or Andy or Booker instead of ‘scusa?’. As much as I think Nicky is a very polite guy and he definitely would use the ‘lei’ form with strangers, he knows his family (and his husband!) well enough to use the ‘you’. As a rule, always check if the translated Italian you are using is in the honorific form and, if it shouldn’t be in your fic (as in: Nicky is talking to someone he knows, like Nile or Joe or his family), change it to the ‘you’ form. NB! Nice nuance in fanfiction: Nicky using the ‘lei’ form with Copley or even Merrick (sometimes using the honorific form with asshole strangers adds a very sassy flavour) and Nicky using the ‘lei’ form with Joe if you’re writing a first meeting AU (in a polite/formal environment). It’s cute because there’s frequently a moment during a first meeting conversation where people ask each other: ‘possiamo darci del tu?’ (can we use the ‘you’ form?) and I think it’d work well with them.

You think this is it? THINK AGAIN! We also have an even more reverential form, to use with very veeery important people (nobility, extremely high-up people and the such) which is dare del voi. Voi = you (second person plural). The ‘vostra’ you saw above in the royalty part comes from this. Example: if Nicky is a prince or a king, a counselor should address him with the ‘voi’ form. ‘Vostra maestà, vogliate scusarmi: ho dimenticato di aggiornarvi su questo argomento’ (Your Majesty, please excuse me: I’ve forgotten to give you updates on this topic).

A bit complicated, I know, but I hope I’ve helped. Remember you can DM me anytime if you have questions. If you think I’ve forgotten something, please add a comment so that I can reply! :D

Here are the links to my previous ‘Italian language for fellow writers’ posts:

Terms of endearment

Swear words

Writing ‘good’

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Leggiero (Chapter Three)

aIn collaboration with @bethanysnow

Small touches, looks, and wine-soaked daydreams lead to whispered conversations on balconies' edge. Put out cigarettes in the middle of the night. Let lips touch as palms do - eventually...

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word count | 7111

Tag list | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bidet-and-legolas @ginny-lily

***

The bus rumbled underneath Damiano as he turned around in his bunk, the humming of the vehicle drowning out the clatter and chatter of his bandmates in the background. His head was pounding, but less because of the little alcohol he had consumed the night before and more because of the thoughts that had kept him up all night. This morning, he had made sure to be up before Y/n would come around for her wake up call, got ready and then all but crawled into the bunk on his bus for more sleep. They would play a gig in the evening, but for now he was thankful for the 6-hour drive to Oslo with nothing to do.

He could almost feel himself drifting off, body tired out and mind exhausted, but instead all that he saw when he closed his eyes were scenes from last night.

The room was filled with laughter. Music and Vic’s singing, as Damiano let himself fall onto the bed next to Y/n. She looked gorgeous, hair down, relaxing, a champagne flute in her hand and a slight smile on her face. Even though he knew she’d be worrying about what Thomas was doing to the room and how she was going to get them out of bed the next morning. But mostly she was just gorgeous and he told her so.

His hand reached out before the contemplation of this action had been finished in his brain. The adrenaline from the first show of the tour had him flying, soaring, and there was nothing that could possibly bring him down. Her eyes showed surprise but she didn’t pull away as he put a strand of her hand behind her ear. The gesture was small but Damiano felt like he was on fire, briefly stroking the soft skin under his fingers before pulling back.

He found himself babbling about his hair, but he was much more interested in what she had to say. He wished she would talk about herself more often - so much of his personality was so out there, so much information about himself was literally out there, in magazines and interviews and photos, but she had her walls up, even when they were joking, even when she seemed to be talking freely.

“You’re getting more interesting with every second I’m around you, you know?” The words slipped out of his mouth so easily. She went over it just as easily. Did she not care? Did she not find him interesting? He had hoped for some sort of reply or reaction, but she just continued talking. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him… His brain only allowed the thought for a minute. No, he told himself, she simply was this way. Cool, calm, collected. He was sure he would be able to get her out of her shell further one of these days. He wasn’t going to stop trying.

Next thing he knew, she had thrust her phone into his hand, some picture of her from years ago. He didn’t care much about the outfit or the makeup or the questionable hair, it was her smile that drew him in. There was something carefree about it, something unabashedly confident, something she seemed to have lost since then. There was no way back for him he realised in that moment - it might as well have been this woman or no other ever again.

Next thing he knew, he was complimenting her again, calling her darling, but this time he didn’t have to wait long for a reaction. The drink that had been in her mouth just a second ago was now spluttered on her clothes and some of the bedding. He was about to ask her if she was alright, but she had jumped up from the bed, hands trying to hide her reddening face, and dashed to the bathroom.

Fuck, what happened?

“Damiano! What did you do to the poor girl!” Vic shouted in amusement from across the room. He simply waved it off. He wasn’t actually sure what he had done and it bothered him more than he would like to admit - especially in front of his bandmates. Maybe he had come on too strong, tried too hard, had made it awkward. His plan had been to pay her compliments - not scare her away with them. He would have to reconsider his course of action.

When she came back, it was only to say a quick goodnight, waving and leaving. She only spared him a brief glance, no smile or any reassurance that they were fine.

It had not stopped going through his mind. This morning, she had pretended like nothing had happened, but he knew she had been avoiding his gaze and her smiles didn’t seem quite as genuine as they did before. Damiano let out a low groan into his pillow. This was a mess and a half.

The curtain of his bunk was drawn back harshly, revealing Ethan’s face.

“Why would you scare me like that!” Damiano complained. “I could be jacking off in here!”

“Well, I want to assume you wouldn’t do that in a semi-public space such as this,” Ethan replied with contemplation on his face.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Victoria sent me and told me to tell you, I quote,” Ethan cleared his throat. “‘Stop moping, Damiano, it’s no fun'. So, there you go.”

Without another word, Ethan turned back around, leaving the curtain open, and walked back into the kitchenette of the bus. Out of the corner of his eye, Damiano could see him stealing a bit of fruit from the fruit bowl. He felt no motivation to join them.

***

“He alright?” Y/n whispered to Thomas, who was sitting close to her, guitar on his lap. He just shrugged. Ethan rejoined the group with an unreadable expression on his face, sitting down next to Victoria. Y/n shot him another concerned look, but he simply shrugged as well. She shook her head and got up from her spot, walking over to the counter to make breakfast for everyone. Getting out the waffle maker. Putting the Moka pot on the stove and filling it with water. Too early in the morning for rock and roll. In the background, she could hear the band discussing rehearsals and the show in Oslo.

As soon as the smell of food hit the three bandmates, they were all over Y/n, hovering around the little kitchenette, pushing and shoving each other to be first. Y/n looked at all of them in turn. Thomas was currently standing on the couch, raising his hand to smack an unsuspecting Vic who was looking the other way. A single raised brow from Y/n got him back down onto the ground.

“Hey! I’m older, I go first!” Victoria pushed Thomas back.

“Maybe, but it still took your mum nine months to think of a good joke,” Thomas retorted.

Ethan turned around, chuckling at his friends’ banter - but Y/n’s reaction was far more blatant. She started to laugh, a loud, almost cackle that the band had never heard before. Her smile easily reached her eyes and she gave a little applause at Thomas’ joke. “I- I;” she gasped in between laughs, “I know it’s not that funny but it just got me, sorry!” Finally managing to bite her tongue, she went back to serving breakfast.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw Damiano leaning so far out of his bunk to find out where the sounds and the laughter were coming from. The driver though couldn’t have known it was a bad moment to go over a pothole. With a loud thud, Damiano crashed out from his bunk and onto the hard floor. Chili, excited at the prospect of being able to reach him, ran over to lick his face.

“Eh! Chili, hi. Vic! Come get your dog!” He groaned, picking up the golden fluff and sending it back to her owner. She trotted away happily, over towards Victoria, who was a giggling mess after seeing her friend’s fall. He rolled his eyes at her grin.

“You gonna come join us, sleepy boy? I made coffee,” Y/n said, still trying to keep the peace between everyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, she walked over to Damiano and bent down, handing him the beverage. “I don’t really care if you want to spend the entire day on the floor, but I think your fans might tonight. So come join the party, hm?” Her voice was soft and enticing. Damiano’s eyes sparkled at her invitation. But still, his face was burning red. He sighed and nodded.

Y/n stepped back, taking the cup after he had taken a long sip, and reached her hand out to him. With a swift movement, Damiano was back up on his feet, immediately losing his balance and crashing into Y/n’s shoulder. More blushing on his part. He had not been expecting this amount of strength from her. Not caring about his little bump into her, she dusted him off, picking some fuzz out of his hair, her hand so close to his face, yet so far. She handed him the coffee once again and gave him a smile, before going back to her little corner on the bus as everyone devoured their breakfast.

Damiano watched as she tidied up after everyone had finished, constantly making sure what was effectively their home during tour would stay homely. She always looked like she belonged, and he admired her for that. After one last wipe down of the counter, she quickly addressed everyone on the bus, asking if she was needed for anything else right now, and after a round of head-shaking from everyone, she grabbed her laptop and retired to a quiet corner on the bus. It was only when she briefly looked up to find his eyes and gave a slight smile that he realised he was still watching her every move. Embarrassing, he scolded himself.

Damiano started fumbling for his bag, grabbing a notebook and a pen. He had too many thoughts running around in his head, too many images and ideas about Y/n, and he felt like the only way to get rid of them was to write. Maybe he’d even be able to make something out of it. Anything would be better than staring and dreaming about her anyway.

***

Two more hours until Oslo. With a heavy sigh, Y/n pushed the laptop away from her, neck cracking as she finally moved her bones a little. Suddenly, a pair of hands came down onto her shoulders. She only flinched for a moment before she realised it was Damiano, slowly starting to massage her tense flesh. Her head fell forward and she waved her hand to have him keep going. His fingertips digging into hours of uni work, work work, other work. Tension all living in her neck being slowly worked away by the singer.

"I'm not gonna turn down a free massage," she chuckled, feeling his talented fingers remove knot after knot. Then, suddenly, they became softer. She could hear Thomas in the background shouting something at Damiano. Taking his attention away from her, and all it left was soft fingertips on the sensitive skin on her neck. Dancing along and leaving goosebumps in their wake without him even knowing what he was doing to her. She shivered under such a light touch. A groan left her lips as she was falling deeper under his spell. At this point, she didn’t care. A very pretty man was smoothing his hands over her neck and shoulders and it was nothing short of lovely. Normally this wouldn’t be on Y/n's top list of things she would allow - but a 6-hour bus ride and sitting in one place for most of it was a killer.

I could fall asleep like this - fuck…

She was snapped back to reality when she realised that Damiano was once again staring at her screen, asking what she was working on, hands never moving from their position. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate like this.

“Oh, I’ve, um,” she awkwardly fumbled with the laptop, “I’ve been trying to memorise this sonnet. I’m doing a course on Shakespeare this semester and we’ve been told to pick our favourite by him and I think I finally decided on mine. It’s Sonnet 128 - um. One of the only sonnets to give you an actual scene in place. It’s from the perspective of this guy watching a bard and just craving to be touched, used, kissed by this person. To have the same sort of attentive mastery be directed at him instead of the player’s instrument. Describing the person listening to this bard play… Wait, would you just like me to read it to you?” Y/n looked up at Damiano. He nodded as he slid into the seat beside her. She moved the laptop so she could see its screen still and began to speak.

***

Sitting next to her wasn’t as bad as Damiano thought. After working on her neck and shoulders, her perfume had rubbed off onto his skin. Light and warm, not super floral, but he didn’t peg Y/n to be a flower kind of woman anyway. Looking at her face now, he noticed things he hadn’t seen before. Faint freckles, little lines around her eyes, the pink tint on her lips. Her hair was done up again in a bun. He could see a couple of bobby pins trying to hide in her wild hair. Then she started to recite the piece and his chest was exploding. He felt as if he was watching winter melt away and spring come.

“How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st”

Oh, what he would do to be her muse, Damiano thought. Her voice, low and soft, was like music itself to him, never mind the way her eyes lit up at the words she repeated from the screen. A little light inside of her, one he hadn’t encountered before.

“Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st”

Her fingers were just as sweet, his mind piped up as he tried to listen to her more closely. Some light polish on her nails that he hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was scrolling through the laptop, it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Quickly exploring images of them tangled in his hair, scratching down his back ever so slightly. Stop, he told in his own head in vain. Just stop and listen, for once. Yet the ideas of her he had hidden away kept demanding attention.

“The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap

To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,”

He tried so hard to concentrate. To listen, to take in the words she was reciting, to grasp their meaning and what they meant to her, but it was hard, getting harder. In an uncalculated move on his part, his arm swung around her shoulders, not pulling her closer, just letting her know he was there, right now, right here, with her. His hand resting on her upper arms, feeling the warmth underneath the fabric of her blouse.

“Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,

At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!”

His eyes travelled up from her fingers, over her soft and curvy figure, her delicate neck, to her blushing face. She was blushing an awful lot with him and he had not yet figured out completely if this was a good sign or not. Either way, he thought she looked adorable, a natural pink on her cheeks. Slightly restless eye movements that didn’t match up to the words she was reading, a certain nervousness overtaking her. He wanted to make her blush like that for the rest of his life if he could. He silently wondered if she would blush that much if… if it was just the two of them, alone in some random hotel room, a whole world of exploration before them.

“To be so tickled, they would change their state

And situation with those dancing chips,

O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,

Making dead wood more blest than living lips.”

His eyes betrayed him, flicking down to her lips as soon as she said the word. Soft, a light tint on them, pronouncing every syllable in the most mindful way. He wondered if she would let him kiss her. What. His brain flickered between two emotions. Yes, yes, yes. He would give everything to feel her sweet mouth on his, getting her close, inhaling her scent, pouring his every thought into a kiss. No. What was he thinking? She was their assistant. Strong, gorgeous, fiercely independent, and surely not interested. Right? He couldn’t help wondering. Would she let him kiss her? Would she want him to? Had she thought about it, the way he was right now?

“Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,

Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.”

Their eyes met and Damiano hadn’t even noticed how much closer he had edged towards her. It would only take a little bit, one more breather, a tiny motion, to put his lips on her, to feel what she was feeling, and the way she looked at him had him craving, obsessing and he almost dared himself to do it, when a voice pulled him out of his thoughts, pulled him away from her.

“Y/N! I don’t understand how the waffle maker works!”

Damiano had never wanted to kill his bandmate more than at that moment. With a groan he turned around, seeing Thomas fumble with the appliances in their little kitchen area, a dumbstruck look on his face, and puppy dog eyes pleading Y/n for help. She only gave a low chuckle, before getting up and walking over to the guitarist, leaving Damiano with a head full of thoughts that all circled around her.

***

That was close, Jesus Christ! My face is so warm… how are his eyes that pretty? How have I never noticed that before? I wonder if he was thinking about the same thing as I was back there…

***

The crowd was roaring out by the main stage. Crew held their places waiting for the queue to go. The band stood off stage trying to sneak a peek at the audience. Hundreds more people than they were expecting. Y/n sat in a metal chair that was dubbed ‘her chair’ so she could watch the performance from behind the main curtain to cheer the band on without being seen. The lights in the main room were being lowered, the playlist that had been on in the background slowly being turned off, as the noise of the audience got impossibly louder. The band was getting nervous now, the good kind of nervous. Thomas jumping around to get his energy levels up before they would get the sign to get on stage. Y/n smiled at them in turn, returning a little wave Ethan was giving her. Just as they were given the go-ahead, and all of them started to jog on stage, Damiano took a little detour, sending her a smile that would set all the butterflies free in her stomach, before pressing a little kiss to her forehead. He was gone before she had a chance to react. Yet, she froze. Damiano looked back and it was the most perplexed, confused, and adorable expression he had ever seen on her.

It was an expression Damiano couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the concert, even long after she had lost it - and he knew she had because he couldn’t keep himself from looking over at her every now and again. He was fascinated by the way she watched them.

And if she was watching? Well, then he was going to put on a show.

He pulled all the tricks he knew - well those that were fitted to the situation and venue. During one of their songs, he decided to pull his favourite one. With a low grunt, he ripped his shirt apart, throwing it across the stage, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Until he looked over to where his top had landed and his eyes fell onto Y/n, standing beside the stage, now with a performance-rich torn tank top on her face. Maybe his aim had been a little off. The look on her face as she removed the fabric made him laugh. At least she isn’t hiding now, he thought, before going back to the song.

During “You need me, I don’t need you”, one of the covers they had chosen for the night, he couldn’t fight the grin, knowing his favourite lyric of the night was coming up.

“Melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator.”

Where Damiano would usually take the chance to suggestively hump the mic stand and focus on the audience, this time he did it while looking straight at Y/n. Her face clouded red, eyes looking at him with a flustered glare. He simply winked at her.

Similar things kept happening throughout the night, any song to do with sex or romance, any innuendo, it was all directed at her. To him, it was all about her all the time, and he made sure to let her know.

***

After one last encore, the band left the stage, the sound of the crowd chanting their names in the background. Once backstage, they all exchanged hugs, all pumped up from the adrenaline and the successful show. A massive gift basket sat in the corner, filled with beers, chocolates, some skincare products, and flowers, along with a note from the venue welcoming them to Oslo and thanking them for playing. Vic immediately grabbed Y/n.

“When we get back to the hotel - up for a girl’s night?” Wriggling her eyebrows at the assistant, she picked out some of the products from the red tulle in the basket.

“As if I could say no to you.”

***

“Okay, what’s first, face mask or red wine?” Victoria asked, holding up both items in her hands as she followed Y/n into the hotel room, Chili yapping at both of their feet, dying to get attention from anyone.

“I will pour the wine if you open the face mask stuff,” Y/n decided, picking up Chili for some snuggles, before putting the dog down on the bed and grabbing the wine glasses. “Don’t have a girls' night often, so this is nice.”

“I keep having them with the boys but it’s not really the same,” Vic laughed. “They never want me to pluck their eyebrows or anything! Oh, and please be careful with the wine around Chili, I drenched her once and it didn’t come out of her fur for ages.”

“You - you did what now? Wait, nope, I don’t wanna know. But to be honest, I would kill to get Ethan on my lap with some tweezers in my hand. Boy, does he need it. Not by much, sweet guy. Just, uh, you know?” Within a moment or two wine was being poured and handed to the blonde. “I didn’t know how much you would want but we can always add more,” Y/n stated, hopping onto the bed next to Vic.

“Oh, very sweet guy with unpredictable hair, really!” Vic said, grabbing the glass and downing more than half of it in one go already, before sitting down next to Y/n with the little pot she had opened and a little applicator for the cream. “That’s so fancy, I usually just slap it on my face with my fingers.”

“Same! Thinking we’re posh fucks, aren’t they?” Y/n grinned, looking at the tiny skincare items, another sip of wine. Chili curled up between the two women. “You looked like you had fun at the concert.”

“It’s so good to be back on the road and I feel like we’ve really found ourselves as a band now. We’ve only played two shows but it’s already my favourite tour. I’m convinced it’s because you’re here, too, by the way, you really fit in with us,” Victoria smiled at her, sipping from the glass, then putting it away on the nightstand and motioning for Y/n to do the same. “Come here, I’m gonna do your face.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say that. You guys have been absolutely killing it. You got here by your own accomplishments and will, that’s hard to do. I am far more surprised at how well I’ve been able to fit in with you all. I’m, uh, as you can see,” putting the glass away, she scooted to face Victoria, “not as… ‘rock and roll’ and I would have assumed you’d want your assistant to be. But glad I got stuck with you though.”

“Oh, shush,” Vic said, sternly, as she began applying the cream to Y/n’s face. “You fit in just fine. Firstly, I think we definitely need someone to keep us grounded a bit sometimes and secondly, I am absolutely convinced there’s a lot more rock and roll in you than you think - you just wait until you’ve been exposed to us for longer, you’ll see!”

“Well, I agree with the grounded part. You realise that today during breakfast Thomas was climbing on the sofa about to smack your head just to get further in line? That boy does not stop.” She relaxed into Vic’s touch, silently deciding that girls' nights needed to be a more regular thing. This was great. “Ethan said something similar - something about ‘head banging right along with everyone else’. You all have it out for me don’t you?!” She asked, putting on an overly dramatic, surprised look.

“No, he didn’t!” She exclaimed, astounded. “I’m gonna get him back for that tomorrow. Anyway, Ethan was right, you won’t be able to resist our bad influence forever, Y/n! So, have you been to gigs before taking this job, or is this still something new to you?”

“I have been to gigs before, but they were more music festivals, and I was never one for EDM or anything. The heat and lots of glittery, sweaty people drunk on warm beer? No, thank you. Or they would get a new assistant for a tour and the job would end. Not in a bad way, it's just how it is as an assistant. You do your job until they don’t need you anymore.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or you, but I don’t think I’ve talked this much about myself really since I started this job. Not this particular job, mind you, but the whole P.A. thing.” Y/n chuckled, pulling her hair back into a tighter ponytail to keep out of the way of the fancy skincare.

“Hm, now I just keep thinking of putting glitter on you and getting you in the middle of a good punk gig one of these days,” Vic giggled as she finished up Y/n’s facemask, motioning for her to return the favour. “Let’s make the most of this wine then, I’m going to pour you another glass and you tell me a bit more about yourself.”

Grabbing the little pot of face mask, Y/n gently held Vic’s face, slowly applying the cream. “I’m going to be an alcoholic by the end of the tour, aren’t I? Um, well, I had a boyfriend, he was a prick, we broke up. My best friend lives in London in our old flat. My favourite films are old Hollywood romances. ‘Singing in the rain’, stuff like that. I dunno really. I’m just Y/n. Though I was thinking we should find a way to line Damiano’s trousers so that if they - when they rip apart, you see the lining and not the man’s underwear. Not that I think he cares, actually.” She truly was unable to turn work off completely, even on a night off.

Victoria couldn’t contain the giggle, receiving a scolding look from Y/n, who almost put the cream in her hair by mistake. “Thinking about Damiano’s underwear a lot, huh? Can’t blame you, that man is as pretty as they come. You can be happy they’ve all not gotten to the point where they just hang out on the tour bus in just their boxer shorts, but believe me, that day will come sooner or later!”

“I have not!” She insisted as her face betrayed her, telling a completely different story. “That is unprofessional and objectifying. I hope it doesn’t happen at all. You saw my face before when you all decided to ‘put on a little show’ in the dressing room.” She took the glass from Vic to take a sip. “Anyway.” She started blending out the face mask with fingers, careful not to get it into Victoria’s hair. “Would there be anything you want to know? I am never good at talking about myself.”

Chili nuzzled into Victoria’s leg, getting more needy. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries here, but honestly - why do you work so hard? I’ve only known you for like three days but you never seem to relax, you’re always either busy working for us or working on your projects and when you have a minute to breathe you end up cleaning after us or just going above and beyond taking care of us. I’m not complaining,” she held her hands up, laughing. “It’s great, but it’s a lot, huh?”

“Um… I can’t lie. Not to you or the band. Lying isn’t good for you anyway. But.. I don’t know. Lots of stuff happened before I moved to Italy. Lots of not-so-good stuff. So, I had a lot of reserved pent-up energy, still do. So I had to find ways to put it into things. Now I put it into my work because it’s my new dream. I put it into the band because I care about you. I want to see this tour do well…” Y/n stopped for a moment, caught off guard by the question, looking back and forth between Victoria and her own reflection in the wine. “I want to prove to myself that I can achieve and be successful. I am also a giant workaholic, though, like it’s bad,” she giggled, as Chili now put a paw on Vic’s thigh, demanding attention.

“Well, if you gotta do that whole workaholic thing, I’m glad you’re doing it for us,” Vic smiled, placing a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “Just make sure to make some time to let loose every now and again. I’m sure any of us would be happy to help you with that.” She turned on her phone to check the time. “I should probably get this mask off now, give me a second,” she explained before getting up and skipping to the bathroom sink.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Y/n said, also taking note of the time. “Doesn’t Chili need to go out now? There’s no grass on the balcony or I’d let her do her business here.” She stood up, placing the wine glasses on a little counter, trying to force the cork back into the bottle. “Thank you for tonight though, we should make it a thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll take her out for her evening walk now.” Victoria came back, hair slightly damp from where she had washed her face too hastily. “But let’s definitely do this again, next to Ethan you’re like the most calming person on this tour to hang out with.” She moved to give her a hug, only to realise Y/n still had the mask on, so instead, she opted for an awkward shoulder rub and a giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You do realise it is my job to follow you around and see you tomorrow? Like, that is what I am paid to do. But hell, I’d still do it if it wasn’t my job,” she smiled, nudging Vic’s shoulder. “Now go get Chili out and then get some sleep yeah? Important things like sleep, food, water, everything you people seem to keep forgetting about!”

“Well, that’s what we have you for now, don’t we?” Victoria laughed, picking up a whining Chili and already halfway out the door. “But you get some sleep too! No working through the night, I am ordering you to bed - as your boss!”

“Of course!” Y/n laughed, shutting the door behind the bassist. After taking off her mask, she put the rest of Vic’s leftover wine into her glass and went out onto the balcony with her laptop. Pulling out all the bobby pins and the hair tie, she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing out the knots and letting it hang loose. The light from the sunset had long been gone by the time they had gotten to the hotel. Only street lights and the blue screen were illuminating the space of the balcony. The outdoor space was large enough for a table and chairs. The street down below was faintly noisy as people and cars passed by, but not enough to disturb her peace and quiet.

***

So much for an early night, Damiano thought, staring at the screen of his phone, as Ethan slept soundly in the next bed. With a sigh, he kicked the blanket off his legs, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and sneaking out onto the balcony without waking his bandmate. Maybe a smoke would help. His eyes drifted from the rather unspectacular view out front to where he noticed movement to his right, only to see Y/n on her own balcony, right next to his.

Y/n was relaxing in her chair, glass of wine in her hands, mouthing the words to something on the computer in front of her. Entirely focused on whatever she was working on, she didn’t notice Damiano’s door opening and closing. She took a drink of her wine, leaving a dark red stain on her lips, then stood up to face the street. Laptop on her arm and looking outward, she mumbled the words on the screen to herself. He just about managed to make out what she was saying.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with brief- Wait, no. Grief. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Who is already sick and pale with grief. Stupid tiny font is gonna be de death of me,” she mumbled, trying to zoom into the text.

Damiano watched her, a chuckle on his lips, both amused and amazed at seeing her play out the scene on her own. With a quick flick of his lighter, he turned to his cigarette, taking a drag, wide awake. The low light of the moon was illuminating her figure and her hazy movements and for a while he allowed himself to simply be fascinated by her. By the way she moved. Performing fully committed to the open air. Then she made a particularly dramatic, sweeping gesture in her monologue and he knew he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Hey there, Juliet.”

The surprise went through her like an electric shock, she was stumbling over nothing, almost dropping the laptop from her arms, as she turned around towards him so fast, he was sure her hair was going to give her whiplash.

“Ah fuck - Damiano?!” She gasped delicately into the night. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”

Hopefully, for very different reasons, he thought to himself.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly replied. “What are you doing? It’s almost 2 am.”

“You know I could very well ask you the same thing.” She looked at him accusingly. “If you didn’t have the day off tomorrow I’d be ordering you back to bed immediately.”

Damiano briefly considered a suggestive comment, but instead, let the cigarette between his lips keep him quiet. Y/n was putting her laptop away now, sinking back down into the lounge chair as he walked over to the edge of his own balcony, leaning over the railing to get a better look at her.

“You know I’ve not forgiven you for your antics at the concert tonight yet,” she suddenly stated, pulling him from his thoughts. The smirk flashed over his face naturally. He wondered if she was blushing again, but the little light the moon and her laptop screen gave off didn’t tell him anything. He was hoping she was.

“I promise I didn’t mean to hit your face with my top,” he laughed.

“But you obviously did mean everything else you did!” An accusing finger was pointed his way. “I did not appreciate that.”

For a second he flinched, wondering if he had gone too far, crossing a boundary. But then she looked back at him with a smile she was obviously trying to push away, unsuccessfully. Glass of wine in her hand, she sauntered over to him, while he put out his cigarette on the railing. She leant over her own railing, mirroring his movements. At a slow pace, like she knew he was watching, she sipped from her glass. His eyes falling to the way her neck was exposed as she threw her head back, tracing the soft skin with his glances until she set down the drink. There was a droplet of red wine on her lip and he wished their balconies were closer together, fantasising about reaching out and wiping it away, feeling just how soft she would be under his touch.

“Not that… I didn’t like it.” She paused. “Also not the first time I’ve been hit in the face with a shirt. So there’s that.” Y/n laughed.

“Now you’ve got me curious - who else would hit you with a shirt? Are you trying to tell me you’ve been to strip clubs?” Damiano laughed. Teasing her came easy to him.

“Dancers. With aim as terrible as yours, Mr. David. And I don’t know if you want the answer to the second question,” she smirked. When they were alone like this, she seemed more at ease. That, or it was the wine. He didn’t know.

“Dancers, huh? Think you could teach me a thing or two? Or, you know, were you just watching, lusting over sexy men?”

“Ah! I would do nothing of the sort. Most of the guys there weren’t into girls anyway. Wouldn’t do me much good… Damiano, I could teach a lot of things. You to dance? God help us all.” She made a dramatic cross across her body, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

“Now, Y/n, I’d let you teach me whatever you wanted,” he winked. “Preferably something… active, hm?” He could keep from laughing as he saw her unimpressed face, staring him down and shaking her head. He’d rile her up for the rest of his life if she gave him the chance.

“I once met this Italian guy, came to the studio. Thought he was God’s gift to dance. But you Italians all have that, bravado, confidence, whatever you wanna call it. Well, after learning the first intermediate step, he fell flat on his face and went back to beginner lessons. You gonna be like that?” Raising a brow at him, she leant further over the railing on her side.

Damiano puffed up his chest, comically, trying to make himself appear bigger in a useless attempt to impress her. “Now, you’ve obviously not met the right Italians yet, amore mio. Sounds to me like you need a real Italian to show you the way.”

Just like this morning, she burst out laughing, letting out cackles that filled the air with joy. “Sorry - not laughing at you. Just thought what you said was funny.” She looked down, and as dark as it was, he could see the same signs he had seen before. Shy expression, holding herself close to her body. The slight panic of not knowing what to say. “You’re real Italian, alright. You seem to always know what to say. Now is that an Italian thing or a Damiano thing?” She asked, sarcastically, to deflect the fact that her face was heating up.

Amore mio…that's what did it. He felt like he was unlocking a single puzzle piece at a time, slowly putting her together and making sense of her. He couldn’t wait to get the whole picture one of these days. “Maybe it’s a you thing,” he simply said. The night was making him strangely comfortable with being honest. “Maybe you just bring it out in me.”

“Eh - I’ve been told I bring out a lot of things, never a savant before.” She was still looking down, at her hands, starting to pick at her nail polish. Some little nervous tick that he hadn’t caught onto till now. “It’s late, you should go to sleep, Dami. I am sure that bed is missing its handsome owner right about now.” She started to look far away, picking up the wine glass and taking the last sip.

He had barely heard what she had said - too focused on her calling him Dami, for the very first time. It was like a little shudder running through him, knowing she was growing closer to him as the time passed. “Are you okay, though? I’m sure my bed will survive without me a little bit longer.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me, I worry enough as it is. Tomorrow is a day off, so I won’t be waking you up in the morning, bus call isn’t until later. Um, but I will be getting breakfast. Is there anything you would want?”

“As long as it involves coffee, I’m happy. I’m sure you’ll pick out the perfect thing anyway.” Damiano watched as she nodded, moving towards the balcony doors and away from him. He felt like grabbing her just to keep her there. He straightened up as well, just barely backing away from the railing. As she left he looked at the space she once occupied, feeling like he could almost make out the outline of her body where it once had been.

Amore mio...

[sciderman]

It’s International Women’s Day, and I realised that I preemptively wrote just the thing to celebrate. 

(I don’t know how strict Tumblr’s unsexy policy is now when it comes to writing, but there’s no real sexy, it’s just dialogue, as usual.) 

Yes, it’s the @ask-spiderpool boys... (and yes, everything I write for them is canon to the blog, by definition.) So, Happy International Women’s Day! 

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

“Have I ever told you your ass is super fine?” 

Peter was caught off-guard by the abrupt direction shift in the conversation. But, ever able to land on his feet, he delivered a sarcastic “No. Never. I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned it.” 

“It truly is,” Wade paused for something Peter could only interpret as dramatic effect, “the greatest ass in the Marvel Universe. I know. I keep an extensive ranking list.” 

“Who’s second?”

“Daredevil, actually.” 

Peter gave it some consideration, pursing his lips. He conceded with a small nod. 

“The pyjama boys get an unfair advantage. And there might be some color psychology at play,” Wade said, clearly having given this topic a significant amount of thought. “Red makes you hungry, you know. It’s science.” 

“I love science,” said Peter, dumbly. 

“Have I really not told you how much I love your ass? Because that seems like an incredible misdeed on my part.” 

“You used to never shut up about it on patrol”, Peter replied. He hooked one of his fingers around one of Wade’s belt-loops, fiddling. “I don’t know if you knew I could hear you. I had half a mind to start up a harassment case. You’re lucky I’ve got such a good sense of humour.” 

“I’ve got enough outstanding court cases against me as it is so, much appreciated.” 

“...You’ve kind of shut up about it recently, though - present moment in exception.” Peter admitted after a small pause. “My ass just not do it for you anymore?” 

“Oh, I have an extensive list of things I’d like to do to dat ass.” Wade emphasised, giving one of Peter’s cheeks a firm squeeze.  

Peter groaned. Mostly to do with Wade’s appalling use of words, but also partly his body’s reaction to this new kind of attention. 

“I’ll bite”, said Peter, “Why haven’t you started working your way down that list?” 

Peter was mildly disappointed when Wade’s hand ceased it’s exploration.

“Well, you’re a newly christened bisexual, and,” Wade said, “I didn’t… want to rush you into anything that might, y’know. Weird you out. I know all about your fragile masculinity.” 

“That’s not –“ Peter sounded insulted, “That’s not. Entirely true.” 

Wade raised an eyebrow at Peter. Or he would’ve, if he had eyebrows. 

“Besides, I’m not entirely new to this either.” 

Both of Wade’s eyebrows raised. 

“…You mean butt-stuff?” 

Peter sighed.

“Your eloquence never ceases to amaze,” he said dryly. “Yes. I mean butt-stuff.” 

“But Peter, I’m the first dude on your ever-rotating roster of fuck-buddies! Which means…” 

Wade’s facial expression was wide-eyed and adorable before he started piecing things together. Then his face twisted into something so smug and so knowing, that Peter felt embarrassed before Wade had even opened his mouth. 

“Black cat?” Wade said, cloyingly, “…It was Black Cat, wasn’t it?” 

Peter buried his face in Wade’s legs, and grunted. 

Wade’s hands resumed a gentle massage at Peter’s lower back. 

“You know, I kind of had her pegged as that kind of gal.” 

“Har har.” 

“Oh, this is going to give me so much fantasy fodder.” Wade closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He overplayed a delighted “Mmm-mmm”, like he’d been fed the most delicious fucking food he’d ever had. 

“I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“Oh, I really, truly am.” Wade savoured it just a minute more, before he turned down to look at Peter. “Did you have fun, though? How did you like it? Details, details!” 

“It was”, Peter considered his words, as though the fact that he was half-hard in his pyjama pants wasn’t giveaway enough, “It was… fine. It, uh, wasn’t something I wanted to do again, though.” 

Peter turned to lay on his back, head resting on Wade’s lap. Wade’s hands took the new position as an invitation to explore Peter’s stomach, running over washboard abs. 

“Why not?” Wade addressed Peter, quiet and sincere. 

Peter opened his mouth, but didn’t have an answer immediately. He flushed, feeling bare under Wade’s gaze. 

“Probably s’mthin’ t’do w’th mh fr’gile m’scul’nity…” Peter mumbled at last, completely embarrassed. 

“Peter Parker.” Wade spoke up, gravely. “I’ll have you know I have been pegged by every single girl I’ve dated. It’s a courtesy. All good boys deserve it.”

“Mm.” The information didn’t come as a surprise to Peter. He knew exactly how much Wade loved it. He’d participated in it. That didn’t stop the imagery from flooding Peter’s already flustered brain. “And is that what you are? A good boy?” Peter teased, a hand running up Wade’s thigh. 

“Peter Parker.” Wade repeated in earnest, “I think you can acknowledge that lately, I have been a very, very good boy.” 

“And a good boy deserves a reward?” 

“Are you gonna give a dog a bone?” 

Peter snorted. 

“If that’s what he wants,” Peter said, stretching out. “Otherwise, he wins this fine ass for the evening.” 

There was a beat of silence, and Peter could swear he could hear the fizzle and pop of Wade’s brain short-circuiting.   

[saturnsummer]

oh, how we’ve grown.

prompted by an anon from my ask here! 

notes: this was probably the fic that stumped me on so many occasions, since it was really bittersweet. editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me! it took me longer than expected and i’m not sure if everyone would be able to catch on how i interpreted the group’s futures and personalities! if anyone would like to know more, do dm me! as always, enjoy and thank you for the support and love!

original prompt: I think Joon Hwi and Sol A was already dating during their 3L (since Sol A looked so comfortable acting flirty and cute aroud Joon Hwi on their way to the old man's trial). Now I wonder what happen with them during time skip and by the ending, what stage of relationship they are in. Can you write a fic or headcanon ab that? Thank you! 🥰

words: 4373 words

it was finally the day of graduation.

joon hwi was beyond excited. he was nostalgic, sad and emotional, for sure. but after crying so many tears yesterday and the past week, he found it useless to cry any further. he lets the adrenaline set in for his new chapter lying ahead.

joon hwi was finally going to be a prosecutor.

his letter came in a few weeks after the bar exam. he counts himself lucky, being one of the students that helped to capture assemblyman ko, solve his uncle's murder, prove his professor's and his own innocence. all in his first year. it was no surprise that when he applied, they immediately wanted him. his grades were just the cherry on top to his stack of achievements. he was certainly overqualified for a guy who just passed the bar.

(well, he did pass the second round judicial exam.)

further than that, he was crowned valedictorian and was tasked to give a speech to his fellow batch mates. he had practiced his speech countless times, and he could recite it in his sleep by now. but he can’t quite place the feeling that he feels. his thoughts are all over and he can’t seem to keep his heart rate constant.

a knock on the door of his now empty dorm room distracts him from his thoughts. there, dressed in similar graduation robes, with long wavy brown hair is kang sol a, or to him, his kang sol. she walks in with a small smile on her face, but her smile fades away to a face of concern after studying his face. her eyes dart to the door, and she strides back to shut the door, giving him and her the privacy that he needs.

"what's troubling you?" she asks gently, taking his hand into hers. a quiet, simple gesture done by sol could soothe him so much. joon hwi is silent, not knowing why he’s so nervous. he’s done speeches and talked to crowds bigger than this. heck, he has testified for court. yet, the knot in his stomach refuses to cease.

“i don’t know… it’s nothing new, yet…” he trails off, avoiding his eyes with his girlfriend. his thoughts race through his head, but it leads back to his uncle, his samchoon, the man that brought him up: seo byungju.

“joon. joon, look at me.” sol brings a hand up to his cheek, gently raising it so it meets her eyes rather than the floor. joon hwi promised he wouldn’t be emotional today, yet he found his eyes glassy when he met sol’s eyes. as a tear slips, her fingers wipe it away gently.

“your uncle… he would be so proud of you to see the boy he raised achieve his dream.” sol says, a voice so quiet and soft, it seems to echo to joon hwi. she always knew what to say and always knew what was troubling him deep down, even if he denied it.

samchoon… are you proud of me?

“i’ll always be supporting you, like how your uncle did. when you’re on stage, if you feel intimidated, just look at my eyes, alright?” sol says, rubbing his cheek. he gives a small smile and nods slowly. taking his hand, sol intertwines it between her fingers, an action that he knows she only does when they are alone. an act so simple, yet his heart was so soothed by then.

joon hwi’s free hand reaches to the back of her head, as he lowers his slightly, so their forehead rest against each other. he breathes her perfume in, the one he bought for her a few months into their relationship, the one that she always wanted but could never buy. he takes slow breathes with her, her thumb rubbing his knuckle gently.

sol pulls away, much to joon hwi’s disappointment. he wanted her skin ship even more, just savouring her touch under his skin. sol notices his disappointment and only gives him a smile.

“they’re waiting for us. come, let’s go.” sol says softly, letting go of his hand after giving him a squeeze. he knows she hates being affectionate in public, even in front of their close friends. he gives her a quick peck on the top of her head before following behind her, walking to the lobby where they were.

“yah, hyung!” bokgi waved with enthusiasm, gathering the attention of the group. joonhwi maintains his composure and lets out a deep breath.

“nervous, hyung?” yebeom asks, his fingers fiddling.

“tch, it’s me. i’ll be fine.” joon hwi replies. it’s a half truth, now that sol is by his side.

“that’s why sol-noona had to find you, right?” bokgi teases, earning a nudge from yeseul. bokgi looks in mocked offence, but he recovers. everyone eyes at sol with prying eyes, the look of teasing on their faces. she takes this moment to shut her eyes, bring her hands up to face and shakes her head while sighing. these kids have literally nothing better to do than to just tease her and joon hwi.

“it’s time. you should go.” jiho says as he nods towards the lecture hall. the ceremony doesn’t start till half an hour later, but being valedictorian, he had preparations to do. they send joon hwi their last words of encouragement, but joon hwi was not going to leave unless he embarrassed his girlfriend a little longer.

his hand reaches up to sol’s hair, sweeping the curls behind her and cutely arranging her fringe the way she likes it. sol blushes as the group ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ in front of them. joon hwi knows she hates being so affectionate in front of her friends, but it’s always fun to tease. sol’s bright red and her face forms the smallest pout. joon hwi knows he’s achieved his mission.

“i’ll see you later.” he says with a wink and walks away, hearing the tease from yebeom and sol squeaking back.

when he’s on stage later, giving his speech, the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly. but the only thing that changes is that his eyes are fixed on the warm brown eyes of sol. as he addresses his late uncle at the end, he pauses and takes a deep breath. sol looks at him and gives him an encouraging nod. he ends his speech, eyes never once leaving her gaze, as the student body claps for him and he takes a bow.

one by one, the students are told to line up and take their certificates on stage from dean oh. she gives the seven graduates a knowing smile when they step on stage, knowing how much they’ve been through, after being swept up by their problems in their first and second years. even after all that, they managed to graduate with excellent results.

when they gather to take their photos (taken by seungjae, who decided to attend their graduation. it was the least he could do to show his support.), joon hwi swears he sees his uncle standing at the rock by the entrance of the school. he swears he sees the knowing silhouette of the tall man, grey hair and his metal spectacles. but what warms him the most is the smile of seo byung ju’s face and the slight nod.

yes, my boy. i’m so proud of you.

with that, joon hwi lets himself smile as seungjae snaps the camera.

(he doesn’t notice his blurred vision from his tears, but rather blames it on the sun hurting his eyes.)

-----

the group takes individual shots of themselves, even jiho and sol b are smiling when their photos are taken. sol doesn’t lose a chance to tease her roomie about her cute smile, one she only reserved for limited situations.

joon hwi watches as his friends spread out across the field to meet their family, sharing the good news of graduation and their new starting jobs. the smiles on the parent’s faces warms his heart deeply, somehow, even though he’s standing alone.

jiho was going to be a prosecutor with joon hwi in their new office. jiho could care less about joon hwi, but he can’t help but admit that it comforted him knowing a familiar face to be in his office in about two weeks. after all, they did share a room for three years.

sol b, against her mother’s wishes, has decided to take a gap year. her mother initially planned for her to continue her training, securing her route to being a judge. but sol b has had enough of her mother’s toxicity. as they went through therapy as a family, sol b had expressed as best as she could her need to discover what she wants for herself, not what her mother wants for her. what she will be doing in her gap year is still undecided, but she has chosen to move out for the time being.

yeseul was going to be in a firm that mostly did cases of women rights. while she initially was hesitant, bokgi encouraged her to take this opportunity, using her experience and her trial as a voice to the other victims. from time to time, she promised professor kim that she would come back to help at the legal clinic.

bokgi, on the other hand, had finally achieved his dream of being a human rights lawyer. while he was upset that he couldn’t work near yeseul, his spirits were immediately lifted when he heard that yebeom was going to be working just at the building across from him, another big law firm. (it was settled that as much as they went through, the bok-beom duo was never to be separated.)

sol, on the other hand, accepted her first job at attorney park’s firm, ironically. just when she had her first internship, she remembers screaming that she would never work with crooked lawyers like him. sol chose to work with him, as a return of the many favours she owes professor yang, starting with the one from high school. it was the most she could do for her role model.

joon hwi observes as he notices the proud faces of mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, and spots the few sightings of grandparents. somehow, he can’t help but feel a little lonely. his parents, the two individuals he had a short-lived relationship with had long passed. his uncle, the closest thing he had to a father had too passed. he can’t even guess where his aunts or other distant relatives are. his distant relatives probably don’t remember him, and neither does joon hwi.

a small body crashing into him breaks his flow of thoughts, as he looks down to see who it is. byeol wraps her arms around joon hwi’s waist happily and joon hwi breaks into laughter, realising who it is and lifting her before spinning her. she’s giggling in a mess as joon hwi spots sol’s mother and her walking to them.

“ah, hello, mrs kang.” joon hoi greets with formality. sol’s mother playfully smacks his arm with a smile, clearly embarrassed from such formality.

“ah! how many times have i said to not call me that, joon hwi-ah! at this point, you should just call me halmeoni!” she says, earning a big laugh from joon hwi and sol’s face burning with embarrassment.

“umma! don’t say things like this!” sol squeaks back. joon hwi only smiles and insists to call her ‘mrs kang’. byeol is getting introduced to their friends as bokgi and yebeom play a game of tag with her. sol’s mother stands by sol, her hand on her back and her other rubbing joon hwi’s back.

“joon hwi-ah, i hope you know how proud i am of you. sol has told me your own fair share of troubles. i know... you don’t have much of a mother figure in your life, but as your girlfriend’s mother, i hope you know i treat you like my own.” sol’s mother comments to him, holding both his hands in her warm ones. “more than just tutoring my daughter and helping her, you got through your troubles on your own.” joon hwi can only smile as he suppresses the emotions.

“your parents must be so glad to have such a righteous son.”

joon hwi, for a moment, is reminded of his limited memories with his parents. he doesn't remember much, being so young when they died. but how his mother would teach him the importance of kindness and compassion. his father would teach him to be strong, to stand up for the bullies that picked on the poorer kids in his preschool.

hearing his girlfriend’s mother tell him that, he couldn’t help but just pull her into a warm hug. sol joins in from behind, enveloping them with a warm that joon hwi was unable to explain. burying his face into the older woman’s hair, he lets himself be a child, as she rubs his back and holds him lovingly.

for the first time in his life, he finally experiences the warmth of a mother’s hug.

-----

as the field starts clearing out, the seven graduates and seungjae are left behind. their families have gone home, leaving them on the field, laid down in a circle, heads together. there was just silence, as they breathed in the air of hankuk university once more.

once more, as students.

once more, as graduates.

once more, before they step into their next phase.

“i’ll really miss you guys.” sol says quietly. yeseul, lying next to her, nods, although no one can see.

“we’ll meet up. especially you, seungjae-hyung! don’t be shy to ask for babysitters!” bokgi announces, earning a smile from seungjae. they slowly got up from the grass, dusting off the dirt and making their way back once more to the university lobby.

this was the place where these eight students met, all with different objectives and from all walks of life. yet, as different as they are, they got along and went through hell together, for each other. the short lived three years were filled with so many troubles, yet they pulled through together.

truly, they were more than friends. they were family.

seungjae took his leave first, being the family man he was. yebeom had to rush to a family event, and yeseul was going to catch a meal with bokgi. (yeseul promised bokgi to give him a chance once they graduated, and so she kept her promise.) jiho and solb were silently headed off in the same direction with their only conversation being “i’ll drop you off” by jiho and solb nodding. (joon hwi and sol only eye them, making mental notes to tease their ex-roommates.)

“are you going home?” joon hwi asks as sol grabs her bag. after graduating, sol made the decision to move home for the time being, to pay off her loans and support her family and ease her mother of some financial burden. joon hwi has opted many times to help, even wanting to pay off her loans. he had no loans, and after he sold his uncle’s mansion, he had a huge sum of money along with the inheritance. but sol couldn’t do it, she needed to work for this herself.

“yeah. i promised byeol i’ll help her with her work and catch a movie with her too. it’s been long since i could just spend time with her.” sol says. the lobby was now empty, with a few students walking in and out. sol looks at the lady justice statue, almost reminded of the many times she stared at it to remind herself of why she chose law. why she chose this profession.

together, they walk out, holding hands for the first time openly in their school. they were no longer students, and there was no point hiding from others anymore. she was just kang sol; he was just han joon hwi. no more ‘second round judicial pass’, no more ‘uncle killing nephew’, no more ‘klutz’, no more ‘twin failure’. just them.

joon hwi takes the bus to sol’s home, still in the ground floor apartment by an alley. sol’s mother invites him in, but he quickly declines, saying he needs to run some errands back at his own apartment. well, it wasn’t a lie. he just shifted in and he certainly had to clean and unpack.

when the apartment is packed with law books stacked neatly in his bookcase, the floor dusted and mopped, furniture clean and the fridge stocked with fresh groceries, he picks his phone to find seungjae sending the group their photos. there’s numerous comments on how yebeom is already missing us, and even jiho gives a ‘tch’ as a reply in the chat. he notices an unread text from his professor and opens the chat box.

you’re on my speed dial for cases. don’t ignore me.

joon hwi scoffs. he sets his phone aside as he flops back on his bed, for the first time processing all that has happened.

he can’t wait for the future.

(on his wall, he hangs a childhood photo of him and his uncle. on the frame, it has a tag with his daily reminder to judge fairly, and to make sure no one suffers unjustly.)

-----

the next few years for joonhwi are an adventure. his experience in the prosecution office is busy and stressful, but with jiho working just next door, he finds comfort in having him by his side. he battles many cases, slowly but surely, making a name for himself. instead of being known as the man that solved his uncle’s murder, he was now known as the prosecutor that never loses.

the study group kept in touch, meeting every two weeks for dinner at a barbecue place. somedays, they drank. on others, they just chatted and kept the plates of pork coming. seungjae did his best to join, but with his toddler kid, things were difficult.

seungjae took a year after his hearing to be with his wife, and take care of her during her pregnancy. he then decided to work as a forensic examiner. if he couldn't practice law and help people with it, the least he could was to uphold it and enforce it. his job was new and interesting, but he humbled himself to push through his training. he meets the group when they are dealing with criminal cases and helps them out as best he can.

the study group also took turns meeting his kid, and would always love babysitting. sol, as expected, was the best with chaotic duo bokgi and yebeom. instead of dinners some nights, they met at his house to catch up with him and spoil his kid. (seungjae couldn’t stop it. when the kid was born, he immediately gained 7 new aunts and uncles, ready to spoil and pamper him.)

his relationship with sol grew as well. working such long working days was tough, but they tried their best. sol would sometimes deliver homemade stews to his apartment and joon hwi would deliver jjajamyeon with her extra pickles on some nights. they met on the weekends, where they would just go to the park and take strolls or hole up in joon hwi’s apartment to work on their cases together.

sol was doing exceptionally well as a new attorney, almost successfully appealing to all her clients. her clients love her, not only for winning, but for always being so caring to them. many say she still keeps in contact with some clients, even after the case has been closed. while she thinks it is no big deal, sol’s career was climbing up. her loans were fully paid, and she has begun looking into apartments for her family and her to shift out of. that alley brought too much danger, especially with byeol growing into a teenager and her mother’s joints weakening.

sol b took that gap year to work at an administrative office at a law firm, before deciding to continue her law career to gain experience before moving forward to be a judge. throughout the gap year, she split her time on herself and therapy, as well as on her study group. she found herself wanting to be a judge, not for her mother, but for herself.

jiho and sol b also started dating each other shortly after they graduated, when joon hwi spotted sol b and jiho holding hands when he was leaving his office. they only told the group a few months later. but of course, everyone knew by then. ever since then, they caught sol b and jiho smiling a bit more, even if their smiles were just the slight curl at the corner of the lips.

yebeom was doing well in his law firm, handling mostly small cases, but he was content since he had a fun time handling the many cases and making visits to meet clients instead of being stuck in the office. bokgi was a human rights lawyer, with most of his cases about the discrimination of citizens in any aspect. he fought for the rights of those of different sexual orientations, races and religions and was extremely happy being able to do that.

yeseul was defending women of all walks of life, from their unequal treatment to domestic abuse. she was passionate and has made headlines a few times over the years when she chose to speak out about her story. she was well known in this area, being the first few lawyers to be a victim of domestic abuse and defending them. she also kept in contact with professor kim and made regular visits at the legal clinic.

bokgi and her only started dating a year after the graduated. bokgi respected the reasons and her space and yeseul found herself falling in love with him. after all, he stood by her all this while for the whole three years and have seen her at her worst. more than that, he treated her with respect and loved her equally, even after all that.

one day, as joon hwi and sol spent their day on the sofa at joon hwi’s apartment, joon hwi was nervous to ask this question. sol was busy looking at different apartment listings.

“sol, can i ask you something?” joon hwi asks, grabbing her hand. sol nodded, eyes still focussed on her screen.

“would you... would you want to move in with me?” sol’s hand stops scrolling as the words sink in and she slowly faces her boyfriend.

“i... i don’t know. i mean, byeol and umma will be left alone, right?” sol says, her voice quiet and soft.

“we can live near them. i think the lease of the apartment is ending soon, anyways.” joon squeezes her hand.

“but... i don’t know if i have enough money to get an apartment for them and us. joon, i really want to, i really do. but...” sol’s eyes are uncertain, and joon hwi sees her eyes guilty, almost like she feels bad for saying that.

“we can get the apartment in instalments. you can buy one for your mom and byeol first and we will slowly pay for ours.” he says. placing a finger under her chin, he raises it so her eyes meet hers. “sol, they are going to be alright on their own.”

sol nods her head and reaches up to pull her boyfriend’s face to hers, letting their lips connect. his lips are soft against hers, as she taste the slight coffee taste from his mug. it’s almost frenzy, from what started as a simple kiss lead to a fight for dominance. without knowing, sol is straddling joon hwi, as his hands pull back her long hair.

when they pull away, he feels her hot breath on his face, and her face burning red, embarrassed at how she acted.

“should we get back to looking at apartments?” joon hwi asks, a small smile on his face, ultimately an act of tease to her. she quickly nods and climbs off of him as they look at apartments together. joon hwi gives her a knowing smirk, before sol swats his arm and they resume scrolling.

and it was true, when professor yang had him on speed dial.

he was just about to leave for a coffee and bother jiho for a bit at his office one day, when a call came in from professor yang.

“han joon hwi.”

“professor.”

“you’re needed, now. meet me at hankuk university in thirty minutes.” and the call disengages. it was a habit of his professor’s, to give blunt replies and just cut off without saying goodbye. he slips on his blazer and grabs his briefcase before picking up the call from sol instinctively. so much for listening to orders, even though he wasn’t a student anymore.

“called you too?” he asks once he picks up, scribbling on a post it note, noting his early leave from the office.

“what else? gosh, i really hate it when he hangs up like that.” sol replies, a twinge of annoyance in her voice.

“i’ll pick you.” joon hwi says, as he leaves his office, then knocks on jiho’s door. jiho’s head pops up from his laptop, before nodding in acknowledgement.

“no, don’t bother. i’ve already caught the train.” sol replies and joon hwi hears the familiar beeping of train doors. sol knows she’s got to hang up soon, if she doesn’t want to irritate other commenters on the train.

“love you.” he says back. sol’s face is blushing red, but she’s lucky everyone on the train was busy on their phone.

“i love you too.” she whispers before hanging up and storing her phone away in her handbag.

when they meet at the doors of hankuk university each time they are called in for a case, they can’t help but to think of how far they’ve come. sol, the girl with bad grades and on a scholarship. joon hwi, the top student with a hidden secret. yet in a matter of years, they blossomed together with their friends on their routes.

professor yang is by the lady justice statue, and when he looks up to see his students stroll in with authority and confidence, he gives a knowing smile.

shall we start?

[freddie-weaselbee]

Grade A Business//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Brief semi-nudity, slight language, two suggestive comments, y/n drools on fred but like in a cute way

Summary: As one businessman makes a trip across the ocean to talk to new investors, he meets his new partner, someone a lot more familiar than he was expecting. 

Prompts: Only One Bed with dialogue prompts “if we get caught, I’m blaming you” and “I don't want to be alone”

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Day 2 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

  Fred had never gotten used to traveling on Muggle airplanes. He never had a need to before, not with everything being a train ride, floo network, or apparition away. But as he and George progressed into adulthood, and the businessman life no less, they found themselves constantly on the move and needing a fast and easy way to travel without drawing suspicion. Except for the one time that Fred’s magical briefcase set off every airport security system imaginable, but he’d learned from that mistake. 

He was relieved to be exiting the JFK airport in New York City, clutching his luggage and thanking Merlin that his feet could now touch solid ground. Being in one of those huge steel contraptions was nothing like flying in a broom. He had no control over anything and it drove him absolutely insane. Luckily, he was safe now, and one step closer to being done with this awful business trip. 

At the beginning of their business endeavors, Fred and George would travel together, trying to pick up business at other locations for Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes. But as the shop grew and the locations became more and more foreign (so far having shops in Paris, Cairo, and Madrid) the brothers realized that the operations would have to be solo missions to allow for the other to run the shop for longer periods of time. Usually Fred didn’t mind taking the trips by himself. In fact, he rather enjoyed the alone time and flexibility in schedule. But this meeting was supposed to be a big one, and he was feeling quite nervous about having to tackle it himself. 

Big investors located in the states were meeting with him to discuss opening a joint operation in New York City, combining his shop with another renowned wizard business that they deemed would be most profitable. Fred groaned internally just thinking about it. He didn’t want to have to share this new shop with anyone, no matter what the new investors thought. What if the other co-owner was a horrible person? Or worse, what if they had no sense of humor? They’d ruin the Weasley reputation and make it some boring book store. Or puzzle shop? Honestly Fred didn’t know much about the other business, just that he already didn’t like it. 

Hailing a cab, a trick his sister-in-law Hermione had shown him years ago, Fred lugged all of his prototypes--skillfully hidden from Muggle eyes and detection systems by layers of spells--into the trunk before hopping in, giving the address of the hotel the investors had booked for him. He was about to shut the door when a panting scream startled him enough to make him stop. 

“Wait! Hold the cab!”

Doing as he was told, Fred kept the door open and allowed the stranger to climb in, suitcase and all. 

“Thanks,” you said, Fred noting your distinct British accent and strikingly familiar features. “I really need to get to my hotel, I appreciate it--”

“Y/N?”

Shocked, you finally looked at your ride partner’s face for the first time. Soft brown eyes. Freckled face. Bright ginger hair. 

“Fred?! Fred Weasley?” You knew for a fact you weren’t mistaken, this was definitely the Fred you remembered. Or maybe it could have been George? It had been so long since you had seen either of them. Since Hogwarts, in fact. 

Luckily, Fred nodded, confirming your belief that this was the older Weasley twin and saving yourself from heaps of embarrassment. “Y/N L/N, what are you doing here?”

Fred and you both wore matching grins, stretching from ear to ear. What an insane coincidence. What were the chances that you two would be in the same cab, in the same city, in the same foreign country?

“I’m actually here for business,” you said. “After Hogwarts I opened my own shop--”

“Excuse me,” the cab driver interrupted, wasting no time with politeness nor formalities. “But I have cars lined up behind me and I don’t know where you wanna go little lady. So let’s get on with it, if you will.”

“Oh, yeah of course. It’s, umm, oh shit which hotel was it? It’s on 53rd and 10th, I know that…” You trailed off, trying to remember what your hotel was called. You dug around in your purse, hoping to find a piece of paper with the name on it. “I think it was called--”

“Lotus Hotel.”

It was Fred who had interrupted you, once again, and once again you were just as bewildered as before.

“That’s right,” you said after a few seconds of confused silence. “Yes, yes the Lotus Hotel please,” you told the driver with confidence. Turning back to Fred you tried in earnest to understand what was happening. 

“So same location?” the driver asked, to which Fred confirmed before you were speeding off down the crowded streets of the city. 

“Oh, I get it,” you said in understanding. “Same hotel as me?”

“That is correct, love. What are the odds?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a half suggestive half just plain goofy manner, awkwardly shuffling so that his long legs had room amongst your many bags. 

“That is quite a coincidence,” you agreed. “Funny thing is, I didn’t even choose the location. I have a business meeting in the morning with possible investors and they set everything up for the stay.”

Fred’s mouth practically dropped open at what you had said. “You’re kidding. These investors don’t happen to be Robbie Goldstein and Rachel McMillan, do they?”

“Ok, you need to stop doing that,” you said, officially freaked. “That’s the third time you’ve predicted something and it’s starting to creep me out. You never were very good at legilimency.”

He hushed you quickly, hoping the cab driver hadn’t caught onto the magical term you just used. Thankfully, he was too focused on the roads to notice. 

“Ok, Y/N, one last question.”

“And then you’ll explain how you know all this?”

Fred ignored your question and continued with his own. “You said you opened a business. Are you perhaps meeting with another business owner to discuss a collaboration on a new store opening in the city?”

“Yes!” you said, eager to know how Fred could have known that. Was this another one of his pranks? Did he have hidden cameras in the cab somewhere? “How do you know all this?”

He only laughed, a joyous and very relieved grin overtaking his face. Sticking out his right hand, he grabbed yours and shook it eagerly. “Well, Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to be reacquainted. I’m Frederick Weasley, your new potential partner.”

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

“You know, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Oh thank Godric, I was worried you’d think I was grown up and mature now.”

You laughed heartily as you dragged your bags out of the cab, thanking the driver before he grunted annoyedly and drove off. Your drive from the airport had gone faster than expected, mostly due to the fact that you and Fred had so much to catch up on. 

After he and George had left Hogwarts in their grand exit, they’d created the shop they’d always dreamed of, parking it right in the middle of Diagon Alley. You, on the other hand, went about creating your success in a much more conventional way. After finishing your last year of school, you started working full time at Zonko’s at Hogsmeade, trying to save up enough money to start your own business. 

Many long hours and tiring days later, you opened up your little place, a toy store and puzzle shop. It was a similar setup to what the Weasleys did, but as you described it, “my toys don’t blow up in the user's face.”

You were now very excited for tomorrow’s meeting, the one you had been dreading beforehand. Your business was much smaller than Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and this would be your first international location. You were afraid that the owner you would be forced to work with would be some stuck up rich big whig who wouldn’t allow you to keep any of your small business charm in the new location. But learning that you would be working with Fred, well that was a relief for many reasons. 

Fred rang the hotel desk bell, chatting happily about ideas for the shared shop and new products that fit with what both of you wanted to do. 

“Hello there,” said the hotel receptionist, coming around the corner. “What can I do for you today?”

“Two night stay for Frederick Weasley,” said Fred. “Should’ve been booked by Robbie Goldstein.”

The young man typed quickly into his computer before offering Fred a hotel key card. “Here you are Mr. Weasley, room 504. We serve complimentary breakfast from 6 to 9 every morning down in our west hall. If you need anything don’t be afraid to call down and we’ll assist you in any way we can.”

Fred nodded at the man. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” He turned to leave before you grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him back. 

“Wait for me,” you said. “I’m not finished talking to you yet.”

Fred smiled and waited behind you as you took your turn at the desk. 

“Y/N L/N, also booked by Robbie Goldstein.” 

He clicked away again but paused for a few seconds, seemingly confused. “You said Y/N L/N?”

Starting to get nervous, you nodded. “Yes, that’s me. Is the reservation not there?” You didn’t want to think about having to find somewhere else to stay, especially because it was getting so late. 

“Oh no,” the man replied. “It’s here all right.” Ignoring the confused looks you and Fred were giving each other, the receptionist handed you a hotel key card and gestured to the elevator. “Thank you for choosing to stay with us. You’ll be staying for two nights in room 504. Don’t forget to enjoy our complimentary breakfast from 6--”

“I’m sorry,” Fred interrupted. “But that’s my room. You did say 504, right?”

“Yes sir,” he replied, not bothering to try to understand the predicament. “Mr. Goldstein booked one room for the both of you.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Fred, silently asking him to help you figure this out. But instead, Fred just broke out laughing, having to brace himself on the front desk. 

“I guess that’s what you expect when you let two investors who specialize in pranking shops make the room accommodations.”

“This isn’t funny Fred,” you said, although you had to give Robbie and Rachel credit for this joke. Turning to the receptionist, you sighed and ran your hands through your hair. “There’s at least two separate beds, right?”

He glanced down at his computer screen before looking back up at you with a guilty smile. “Well, about that…”

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

“Alright, I’ll take the couch, I’m sure it’s a pullout, it has to be.”

Fred stood in the doorway watching you mumble mostly to yourself. As tired as he was and as much as he wanted to just lie down and sleep, somehow watching you freak out about the sleeping arrangements was a much better use of his time. 

He watched as you threw the pillows and cushions off of the couch and felt around for a lever, something, anything that would allow you a place to rest. Your face lit up as you felt a small impression and yanked with all your might, only causing you to thump backwards onto your butt on the hotel room floor. 

Kicking off his shoes, Fred jumped onto the bed, sighing as he let his body relax. “Come on in darling, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

He opened one eye slightly, just enough to see your reaction. You were trying again to make the couch open, although you both knew that it wasn’t a pullout. Nevertheless, you kept pulling at every spot you thought could make a difference. 

It reminded Fred of the good old days, back at Hogwarts when you two were so close. You were always so stubborn, and he didn’t realize just how much he had missed having you in his life. He always wondered what happened to you after he and George left, but with the shop opening up and the war around the corner, he never had the thought to write you or track you down. He hoped this time after you two parted ways you would still remain in touch. 

You groaned loudly, slapping the couch with one of the pillows you had thrown earlier. Nothing was going as planned and you couldn’t be more annoyed. 

“Fine,” you huffed. “I’ll just sleep on the couch, no need for a pullout.” You stomped over to the bed and angrily pulled the blanket from off of him. 

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to grab it back but you were too quick. “That’s not fair, it’s cold!”

“If you get the bed,” you said, wrapping yourself up, “then I get to stay warm. Now go to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He couldn’t help but giggle at the small bundle of you wrapped up in the hotel quilt, looking like an angry little burrito. Standing, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in the corner, followed next by his undershirt before he unbuckled his belt. He turned to face you slowly, feeling your eyes on him as they peeked out of your wrapping. 

You quickly turned your gaze and glared at the floor. “What are you doing?” you said, hoping Fred didn’t see the blush rising to your cheeks. He did. 

He continued to undress, leaving him only in a pair of red boxers that left little to the imagination. “Going to bed, as you said,” he replied nonchalantly. He grabbed a toothbrush from his suitcase and made his way to the bathroom, making sure to walk extra slowly and give you a longer show. 

“This is so unprofessional!” you yelled after him. 

“We’re not business partners until tomorrow, love,” Fred said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “As far as I see it we can do anything we want tonight.”

Rolling your eyes, you shed the large blanket and grabbed an oversized t-shirt from your bag, hoping you’d be able to change before Fred finished in the bathroom. As he emerged, he saw the tail end of you throwing the shirt on, flashing your thighs and part of your panties for half a second. He averted his eyes out of respect, but that didn’t stop his imagination from running away with what he just saw. 

You shuffled past him, taking your turn in the bathroom. How in the world had this happened? How had a nice catch-up with a friend turned into an awkward back and forth the night before the most important business meeting of your life?

All you wanted to do was fall asleep, go through with whatever tomorrow brought you, and pretend like this never happened. But as you came out of the bathroom, you saw that Fred had taken the blanket back, leaving you with nothing except your t-shirt and an uncomfortable couch. 

“Fred, let me have it,” you said, trying to yank it from his grip. 

“No,” he mumbled, voice muffled by one of the many pillows he was cuddled with. 

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, give me the blanket now or so help me…”

Instead of responding, he just reached out and patted you on the top of your head before rolling over and pretending to snore. He was infuriating. 

You sulked back to the couch, accepting your defeat. You pulled out all of the clothes in your bag, hoping they could form as some sort of makeshift blanket. But after a few minutes of shivering and curling into the smallest ball possible, you realized that you’d never manage to sleep like this. Fred was staring at you, partially amused and partially concerned. You looked away. 

“You can always share with me, you know,” he said, patting the bed next to him. 

You scoffed and turned away. “Like I said, Fred, we’re soon-to-be business partners. Imagine how that would look! I’m fine right here, thank you.”

After a few seconds of silence you snuck another look at him. He hadn’t moved an inch, and was instead looking more concerned than before. “You’re going to freeze to death over there.”

“Well maybe that’s because someone stole my blanket.”

“The blanket comes with the bed, and the bed comes with me. Take it or leave it.”

It took everything in you not to scream. You wanted that warm, soft, comfortable bed more than anything at the moment. You needed it. Oh but it would send such a bad message if anyone ever found out…

“If we get caught I’m blaming you,” you relented, trudging over to the bed and crawling underneath the covers, ripping the blanket from a very amused Fred. 

“Who’s gonna catch us, Robbie and Rachel? They’re the ones that set this up! Trust me, nothing’s going to happen.” 

“It better not,” you said. “And make sure you stay on your side of the bed, I mean it! No touching.”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” Fred said, rolling slightly closer to you. “You act as if we’ve never done this before. We’ve slept with each other dozens of times.”

Your face went red at his words, wishing he would have phrased it a different way. 

“You know what I mean,” he said quickly, hearing how his words came across. “But the amount of times we’ve cuddled up in the Gryffindor common room or up stargazing in the astronomy tower. It’s just me, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“We were also 17 and a lot closer back then,” you retorted, remembering the fond memories you had from your high school days. 

Fred huffed and returned to his side. “I’m not saying we weren’t. I just wish you weren’t acting so different now. It’s like we’re barely friends anymore…” His voice drifted off, wishing that he could go back and change the past. It had been 8 years since he last saw you. 8 whole years. Maybe things would’ve been different if he had tried to stay in touch. You’d never even visited his shop in those 8 years, never seen everything he was so proud of. He was stupid to think that one reunion was going to bring back a friendship that was practically already dead. He was even more stupid to think that maybe, just maybe, fate was giving him one last chance to shoot his shot, close to a decade later. What a right idiot he was. 

On the other side of the bed, less than a meter away, similar thoughts raced through your mind. 8 years. Why hadn’t you, in 8 years, made one trip to visit their shop. Sure, there was a war going on and you were busy starting your own shop, but things had been fairly calm the last few years. Why had you never reached out? Almost subconsciously, you reached out physically for Fred. Your hand brushed up against his back before you tensed and drew back. You both stilled for a few moments, before Fred rolled over, facing you. 

The two of you just stared at each other, both playing mental images of what your lives could have looked like the last 8 years if just one of you had done something. 

“You’re not seeing anyone, are you?” Fred asked, breaking the silence. You shook your head. He moved closer. 

“Are you?” you asked. He shook his head. You moved closer. 

Your faces were now about a foot apart. You moved your hand to rest it between your face and the pillow. Fred copied your actions. You laughed softly, the movement causing a strand of hair to fall into your face. 

Fred reached his hand out to move it before hesitating. “Can I?” His voice was so soft, so full of care. His hand hesitated in the air for a second before you nodded. He brushed the strands behind your ear, fingertips so gentle that you got chills up and down your spine. He let his hand linger before it moved to cup your face. “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled and leaned into his touch. “I’ve missed you too, Freddie.”

His hand left your face and moved down to your waist, eyes not leaving yours in case you ever grew uncomfortable. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him just like you used to do all those years ago. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and hummed contently, before both of you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

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

“Freddie, Y/N! How are ya!”

Robbie Goldstein, a plump man with fading hair ran up to greet you and Fred in the lobby of his and his partner’s office, shaking both of your hands fervently. 

“Hey Robbie,” said Fred, slapping the man on the back. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Same with me,” you said, glad you could finally meet the man with whom you’d been discussing business through letters in person. 

Robbie looked between the two of you, sly grin on his face. “Ah, so I see you’ve already met them. Wouldn’t happen to be because of a little mishap at the hotel last night, would it?”

You groaned internally, hating that someone else knew about the previous night, but Fred only laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“A great prank, I must admit, but Y/N and I actually go way back. I’ve known her since I was 11 years old, so nice try. I couldn’t imagine how that would’ve gone if we were complete strangers.”

Robbie’s face fell a little before he shrugged and nodded his head in defeat. “Well, what are the odds of that?”

“Astronomical,” you said, giving Fred a subtle tap with your foot. 

Robbie gestured for the two of you to follow him into the conference room where discussions about the new business would commence. “Well, I’m glad that you two seem to get along then, this is going to make things a lot easier. Oh, and don’t worry about arrangements tonight, I’ve decided not to let my joke stretch on and I booked another room for one of you for your last night in town.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Fred, and stepped into the conference room. “Thanks Robbie, that makes things a lot easier.”

“Yeah,” said Fred hesitantly, “thanks for that.”

He shut the door behind you and straightened up. There was no place for personal feelings in this business negotiation. He needed to do what was best for his company and yours, no distractions. No thoughts of crushed hope that suddenly plagued his mind. 

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

Fred hated the bed he was sleeping on. Granted, it was the same bed as the night before, but this time it felt different. It felt like it was mocking him. You had been the one to offer to change rooms and it seemed like you couldn’t wait to get out of there and to your own bedroom, free of any Weasleys. It made Fred sick to think about. 

He had just gotten used to the idea of something happening between the two of you. Last night, it all seemed perfect. You had cuddled the same way you had before, talked like nothing had changed. Hell, he even woke up with you lying sprawled out on top of him, a little trickle of drool falling onto his chest. He didn’t mind. 

But now, everything that happened the night before seemed like a dream. 

Fred knew he’d at least get to see you sporadically from now on. Your business negotiations with Robbie and Rachel went great, and the two of you, three counting George, were going to be combining forces and opening a joke and toy shop in the city sometime within the next year. It went exactly how Fred had wanted it to go, and yet so horribly wrong at the same time. 

He didn’t want to only interact with you as a business partner and casual friend. He wanted so much more than you were willing to give him, and having to see you and write you and work with you was going to be torture for him. He buried his face in the pillows, gripping the large blanket to his chest, wishing it was you instead. Stupid Robbie and his stupid pranks and stupid business and--

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Fred lifted his head to check the clock. It was 2 in the morning. Who in the world would be knocking this late at night? Fred slowly got out of bed, too tired to bother putting anything more decent on. He looked through the peephole of the door but his eyes were too blurry to make anything out. Groaning, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

Standing in front of him, clothed in the oversized t-shirt from last night and a pair of booty shorts, was you, looking nervous and embarrassed. Fred hadn’t noticed the previous day, but the shirt you had been wearing was one of his old Quidditch practice jerseys, all beat up and way too huge on you. He remembered the day he gave that to you, or rather when you stole it from him because you complained about it being too cold. Fred had to hold back a laugh at the irony. 

“I, umm,” you started, not knowing what to say to him. How were you supposed to explain that you missed him so much that spending one night away from him was too much for you to bear? How last night had been the best sleep you had in years because of how content and at peace he made you feel. How could you convey all of your feelings to him at this very moment?

“I don’t want to be alone.”

Fred wasted no time in picking you up, laughing as you screamed and kicked your legs around. “Fred Weasley, you put me down!”

He did as he was told and threw you onto the bed before jumping, arms and legs spread out, and landing straight on top of you. “I’m so glad you're here,” he said, peppering your cheeks with kisses. He pushed himself up, scanning your face to make sure what he did was ok, but you grabbed his face in your cheeks and pulled him down into a long kiss. Fred smiled through the kiss, almost laughing at how everything was working out. Maybe fate did have something to do with it after all. 

Fred pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. “So,” he said, mischief glinting in his eyes, “how about we put this bed to good use?”

Tag List: @famdomhideout​ @amourtentiaa​

[your-highnessmarvel]

From Bleak to Bright Part Six

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: damn okay wow i REALLY loved writing this part ommggggg

Warnings: angst, language

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MASTERLIST

PART SIX

You went to bed late, tossing and turning, replaying Loki’s words in your mind like a mantra. He couldn’t eat too. He suffered just as bad as you did. You fell asleep somewhere around two in the morning, clutching your sheets. The dreams took you back to him, momentarily dropping you in a reality you knew could never exist when you woke up. 

The sky was a deep purple - like a bruise - when you woke up. You lay there, staring at the ceiling. You knew sometime during the day Steve and Nat and probably Bruce would listen to the call from Loki last night. You groaned just at the thought, sighing under the covers. 

You got up and showered, mentally preparing yourself for the day. When you got out, there was a missed call from an unknown number. You entered the contact as Idiot, then opened up the messages to text him. You weren’t sure if Loki had bought a burner or a full phone, but you tried anyway.

Stop calling me.

You didn’t wait for an answer. You got dressed in a green hoodie and black jeans, pulling your hair into a ponytail. 

Your phone dinged.

Do you prefer we talk here?

Oh so Loki had an iPhone. Texting in blue texts and all. 

You debated answering, wondering if it would just spur his insanity. You left your phone in your room, deciding that it would only be a distraction. 

You went down to the kitchen, eating breakfast alone, enjoying some peace before the storm. 

And here it came.

Bruce came barreling through the dining room, eyes round, wide, fear written clear on his features. 

“Loki called you last night!?”he exclaimed, leaning over hands on the table.

That was quick. “The line’s tapped,” you answered, fighting a blush, gulping down the last of your cereal. “And he didn’t say anything about where he was or whatever.”

Bruce sighed, hanging his head. “Did you do what Nat and Steve trained you for?”

You shrugged. “He saw me coming.”

“That was to be expected.”

You struggled with the lump in your throat, fighting the want to go to Bruce and wrap your hands around his shoulders. Tell him everything would be fine. That Loki would never get you. 

But you weren’t so sure about that. 

Instead, you sighed, playing with the last Cheerio floating in the milk. “Bruce,” you began, biting the inside of your cheek. “How - how am I going to do this?”

He looked at you, all that older brother worry written clear on his face. “It’ll be fine,” he said, covering his hand with yours. “We’ll all be there to back you up. He won’t hurt you.”

It came out all in a rush. “But that’s not what I mean. What am I going to do about the fact that he’s my fucking soulmate?” You heaved, fighting tears brimming in your eyes. 

Bruce stood there silently, then took a seat, dusting off imaginary dust from his dark blue t-shirt. “Y/N,” he started, voice low, serious. “The soulmate bond is... the research proves that it’s mostly based off the animal instinct to provide better genes to your progeniture.”

You frowned. “Ew.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s what the science says,” he chuckled, trying to hide the reddening of his cheeks. “And I know that there are stories out there about people finding their mates and it all goes well, but sometimes, it doesn’t. Nature gave you the most perfect match for yourself, but evolutionarily based, it’s all about babies.” 

“Oh my God, Bruce, stop being so gross.” You played with your cereal, fighting your blush. You didn’t want to imagine yourself making babies with Loki because then, that’d be all you thought about. You didn’t want to go there. 

“My point is, little sis,” he continued, tone soft. “You don’t have to fall in love with him. You don’t have to do anything. Trust me. You can get over the bond.”

Nat had told you that you simply got used to the emptiness. Wouldn’t that make you... miserable?

There was a burning in your chest, spreading slowly like melting butter down your limbs. It was longing. 

Bruce got up without a word and left you to your one-Cheerio bowl and coffee. You stared out the window, at the greying sky, the rising sun, the freedom of the world beyond the trappings of the Avenger’s compound. 

Nothing kept you, really, from leaving. There was no law keeping you here. You could actually walk out and find Loki. You weren’t the criminal. 

He was. He was a war criminal. A psychopath. A mass murderer. You could leave here, go find him, tell him you’d stay by his side, but at what cost? Losing your family? Your friends? A normal life? It’s not like Loki would play the good boyfriend and bring you coffee at work. He’d burn the place down for a stupid reason like they didn’t give you enough vacation days. 

All this thinking had you boiling at barely nine in the morning. 

And the one person you wanted right now was Loki.

You cleaned up your dishes methodically, then rushed back upstairs to your room. The sun was now out and shining through your windows, and you used the light to gather a few items into a bag. There was no one in the hallway, which gave you all the peace you needed. Most of the Avengers were out dealing with whatever Loki had unleashed on the city, and the other half, like Nat and Bruce, were downstairs in the computer lab.

You grabbed a baseball cap and loosed out your ponytail. You grabbed your phone. Heart pounding, knowing you must have less than fifteen minutes before you were found, you sent a quick text.

Number. Now.

It took a few seconds until a reply came in. It was a phone number. You quickly scribbled it on the back of your hand, deleted the messages - even though you knew it was futile - and left the phone on the bed.

Something wild was stirring in your chest, something akin to adrenaline. Your blood roared as you leaped out of your room, quietly down the hall, down the stairs, hands trembling as you exited the front door. 

If only Nat and Bruce were here, it could give you a head start. 

You slid into the garage through the side door and took the keys to the Jeep. It was a thirty minute ride to the city, and you were not about to take the Maserati.

You slid into the Jeep, breathing erratic, and threw your bag into the passenger seat. The second the garage doors were open, you sped out. 

The Jeep wasn’t the most fast car, but it took you the edge of the property in a matter of seconds. You’d never driven like that before; wild and fast, but you had to get away as fast as possible. The country turned into the suburbs, blurring by you, but you only had eyes for the distant, gleaming horizon of New York city. 

You kept looking in the rearview mirror, but no one was tailing. A frantic tremble had begun in your fingers, urging you to press just a little more on the gas pedal. 

When the city began to manifest itself, molding out from the horizon, you ditched the Jeep by the side of the road. You left it visible enough and grabbed your bag, hitching it on your shoulders. Leaving off at a small jog, you left behind not only the Jeep but also the life you could have had if you’d never met Loki. 

There was a tenacious voice reminding you that Bruce would suffer from this. 

But the pull in your belly, deep within your chest, was calling you elsewhere.

You made it through the back streets of the city, slowing your pace to a walk. By now, Nat and Bruce would have noticed you gone. They would have seen the message you’d sent to Loki and his response. Maybe they’d try contacting that number, but you knew for a fact, Bruce would be in a car on his way here. The Jeep definitely had a tracker. 

You went into a Deli Meats, catching your breath in the doorway, your heart hammering vehemently in your chest. 

You asked to borrow the phone and they had a fucking honors system so you bought a sandwich and dumped it in your bag. No appetite. 

The phone only rang once before he answered.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in New York,” you answered, breathlessly.

“Have you been running?”

“Obviously.”

There was rustling on the other side of the phone. “They know you’ve left,” he said. “They’ve tried tracking this number.”

“And did they succeed?” you asked, heart in your throat. 

“No.” He inhaled sharply. “I want to trust you, y/n,” he mumbled. 

“Then come and get me,” you replied, your mouth dry, your heart hammering. “I’ll meet you wherever.”

He laughed, more like a hum than a chuckle. “Okay.”

He gave you an address on the other side of town, and told you not to call a taxi or an uber. He said if you made it there on foot, without any intervention by either the Avengers or your brother, he’d know they hadn’t found you. Or that you weren’t being followed. He had eyes everywhere. 

You thanked the clerk and left in a hurry, mentally replaying Loki’s instructions on the directions. Just the sound of his voice had been a relief, like taking a long, deep breath after being under water for so long. 

Something sharp had lifted from your ribs, where there’d been an imaginary knife twisting. 

The day had warmed, the city had awakened, and there was no way to identify you within the crowds moving steadily. You kept your eyes to the ground, the cap low on your brow, your hair around your face. 

The address Loki had given you was a subway’s sandwich, squeezed between a Moroccan restaurant and a hair salon. You frowned. Was this the right address? It was closed, the sign hanging in the door, the lights off in the store. 

You pulled on the door slightly, and it opened, your heart leaping as a wind of fresh air swept against your hot cheeks. 

Stepping inside, the eerie silence greeted you. No one was there. Only silence and the dark store. A fridge where they kept the cold drinks hummed, the blue light beckoning. You went to it, ripping it open wildly and grabbing a water bottle. As you chugged it, you pulled a rolled dollar from your pocket and put it on the register.

“No need for that.”

You jumped, spilling water all over your green hoodie. With a curse, you set the bottle on the counter and grabbed for the napkins. 

“I’ve got it.”

He was close now, and you could smell pinewood, your senses invaded by him. You looked up. He smiled, his lips pulling gently at the corners. Your heart was hammering wildly, but you swallowed, looking down at him as he looked down at you. He wore the same all-black ensemble as two weeks ago, his short raven locks pulled neatly behind his ears.

He was a specimen. 

His hands, which you swore were previously empty, came up with a green t-shirt. “More fit for the current weather,” he said with a quirk of his brow. 

You licked your lips, carefully reaching for the garment, fingers grazing his. A short shock slithered through your arm. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling heat crawl into your cheeks. 

You motioned for him to turn around, and with a roll of his eyes, he did. You quickly changed, discarding your hoodie in the trash. Once you were done, he turned and took one good look at you.

“Wow,” he said, making your heart sputter back to life. 

“So, what now?” you asked, both to dispel Loki’s current fixation and to actually know what was the plan. 

He straightened. “I have to get you out of the city.”

“Okay,” you breathed. “Where?”

But he didn’t have time to answer. Something came crashing through the front windows, loudly, sending a million little shards of glass flying. As quick as lightening, Loki came rushing to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, shielding you from the tiny little projectiles. 

You felt the heat of him, the pressure of his arms, his front against yours, your cheek against his chest. You smelled him everywhere. You sensed him on every inch of yourself. He invaded your senses, and for a brief instant, that nagging pull in your belly ceased. 

And as quickly as he came, he vanished. When you opened your eyes, fingers trembling, the smell of him clinging to you, he had changed his attire. The illusion previously placed on him, the one of the elegant man dressed in all black, had made way for the God. 

Long, golden horned-helmet on his head. The same green and gold breast plate, the black trousers. And in his hand, a golden staff, the tip gleaming menacingly, a blue light hovering within it’s extremity. 

Standing before you both, on the glittering pieces of the broken window, was Thor and Tony. The former stood in the light of day, his hammer raised, light gleaming off of it threateningly. Tony stood, arm erect, suit gleaming red in the mid-morning sun. 

“Nice work, kiddo,” he said, the helmet coming undone, revealing his face; stricken with fear and concentration.

Loki turned a glare on you, eyes dark, and your insides burned. Tony was making it look like you had a hand in this. That you’d betrayed Loki.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Loki took one step towards you and grabbed your wrist.

Thor roared something like, “Loki no!” But Loki was faster. Quicker than Tony’s blast you heard charging, quicker than Thor’s hammer. In a flash, the tip of Loki’s staff glowed a clear, crystal blue, and your entire world vanished to black.

SO, WHO’S EXCITED FOR PART SEVEN???

tags:  @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme 

[dailypokemoncrochet]

aight sorry about that last ask, i guess i was just stating my opinion but i was definetely agreeing with you about how bad it was!! but yes again sorry i didnt mean it in an agressive manner or anything, and sorry if i bothered you. i understand what you are saying.

Hey, I've had this sitting in my inbox for a bit and I think I should address it for a couple of reasons. This is going to be lengthy as fuck and a little disorganized.

1) What you do on the internet, stays on the internet forever.

2a) You don't need to comment on everything.

2b) And if you comment on something, you don't need to do it immediately without thinking.

3) You're gonna mess up, we all have, and we all do. People will react badly. You will react badly. That's how we all learn.

I think this is SO important for y'all (general) to grasp, especially if you are a minor right now. I understand the desire to interact online for the immediate feedback, as quickly as possible, as often as possible. That's dangerous to do.

For that first point, you (anon specifically) sent this anonymously, so I think you want to keep your blog unattached to this, but you previously replied twice to my other post about it. Even though you deleted it, I still was able to read what you said, and know it was you who said it. The whole thing happened in a matter of minutes of me posting.

I cropped out your name, but yeah that's still at least partially visible in my activity feed. The first reply said something along the lines of "alright alright sorry, this was mine i guess i didnt think it was bad or deserved such a response but im a teenager so what do i know i get it ill just never send an ask again" And the second reply, sent maybe 90 seconds afterward, "and of course i didnt mean this ask in a bad way i wasnt disagreeing with you im sorry im sorry im sorry"

Okay, the context here is in these three posts. One where I said something about my divorce, this ask I answered about it, and this second ask regarding my answer. Basically, I said my depression is spiking because of my divorce, someone asked if my partner dumped me to which I was like wtf, and then someone sent an ask saying that maybe the other anon didn't get it but at least they weren't mean about it.

Even though that last bit happened in maybe 3 in real life minutes, and you deleted it, it still existed and I still read it. I wasn't even particularly LOOKING for something like that. It just popped up in my activity notes. I don't know if anyone else could/did see it. I don't think it was a bad response per se, but you obviously thought about it and decided that you didn't want your name attached to it, but it was already there.

On the second point A, ohhh my god. I mean this in the nicest possible way (exasperated, directed partly at your specific part in this, but mostly Youth in general), stay in your lane. You are a teenager. You should not have commented on my post about a 10 year relationship ending, saying essentially "talk to me about it" because you are a teenager! The relationship existed for more than half of your current age!

This is nothing against you as a person, but you don't have any experience here. You have nothing to offer in this situation. ESPECIALLY if what you tried to offer is a "listening ear". NO. I grew up being the one my parents vented to about marriage issues, and it is so highly inappropriate to dump that on a child, and it is highly inappropriate (however well intentioned!) for YOU to even offer.

You could not even handle the way I reacted to your question. What would you have done if I had started listing the devastating details of my divorce and how it has fucked me up? You flipped at my strong response, and that wasn't even my first response or even truly accurate to the furious, visceral emotions I felt. You almost immediately had to reply. And then reply again. And then reply again. And THEN you thought about it?

Leading to the second point B, take a moment to think about it. Take several moments, preferably. This kind of goes back to you being young (your brain still developing, lack of experience, etc etc), so it's important to repeat this. Think about it, and think through it. I said something about I shouldn't do the critical thinking for you, and that wasn't entirely fair of me. I know how little we (adults, teachers, society) actually do towards teaching critical thinking, so that's not all on you. But if you've got to write out a response to something on the internet, think about:

Do I need to say anything at all? (Am I qualified to, is what I say relevant, why do I feel the need to?)

What kind of answers could I possibly get?

What am I going to do about the reactions I get?

How would I feel if the roles were reversed?

Do I really need to say anything?

Yes, this takes a lot more time than just "thought thought thought words words words send ask" and that's the point! I've got gripes with internet culture being all about the here and right now this very second, but I don't want to go into all that right now. Someone's made another post about it I'm sure.

I actually like the fact that you deleted your replies and sent in this ask several more minutes after the fact. That shows that you did literally take some more time to think about it. That was good flexing of your critical thinking. Please continue to think through how you behave on the internet, and try to do it before someone is mean about it first.

Finally that last point, we all mess up and it is inevitable. You messed up, and you know it. I'm glad that it happened here in a relatively innocuous situation and platform. I know people on like, Twitter, get absolutely eviscerated for less. I still react badly to things, but at least on the internet I can moderate that. It's harder in real life to work through all the feelings you get in the moment, but at least on the internet I don't have to visibly show the stages of processing. I'm trying to give others the benefit of the doubt as much as I can. However, I'm still just a person. I'm going to mess up still, but I do what I can so I mess up less often and less severely.

Anyway, here's the tldr again because that's a lot to read through

1) What you do on the internet, stays on the internet forever.

2a) You don't need to comment on everything.

2b) And if you comment on something, you don't need to do it immediately without thinking.

3) You're gonna mess up, we all have, and we all do. People will react badly. You will react badly. That's how we all learn.