#at least they got some sick fucking technology out of it

[doccywhomst]

fourteen’s speech about the tardis outlasting civilization on an outcrop by the sea was a story from experience btw. their arrival in our universe was met with curiosity, greed, and violence- then they get wise. they preserve it. they build a city all around it- until who the doctor used to be was just a tiny little dot, surrounded by skyscrapers and monorails- but time passes and the city falls, it all gets swept away- and there’s the doctor….

[threepandas]

Bad End: Superior

When you join the military, there's a certain level of assumed risk. You're already aware that they're probably going to ask you to do things. Some of which? You might not be cool with. Internally, you have to decide where you'll be drawing the line. Where "just following orders" fucking ENDS. Especially, when, you join the military... and they assign you someplace that dumps a stack of NDAs in front of you to sign.

That stack had been about as big as a toddler.

And then... then there WERE toddlers. A compound. Deep in the ass pit of no where. Technology so cutting edge, I'm genuinely surprised it doesn't bleed people to turn on. The project? Fucking Super Soldiers.

Because of COURSE it would be.

Fuck Ethics, am I right? Rights? Those are for government officials! Now follow orders and shut up, or we'll direct your attention to the miles of uninterrupted wilderness, in which NO ONE WILL EVER FIND YOU. But, hey! You can't technically call us monsters! We're PAYING you~!

So obviously it's YOUR fault!

Every day. Every SINGLE DAY. I felt sick.

This isn't what I signed up for. How the HELL does this protect anybody? Serve ANYBODY? I felt unclean. Lost weight. My sleep cycle was a wreck. I... I couldn't fucking DO this, and it SHOWED.

I was clearly the weak link.

While others settled in? I got tense. Worn down. Sick. My contract stated I HAD to finish my rotation, so that's what was going to happen. And if the medic had to put me on sleep meds? So be it. If I had to take anti-anxiety pills? Down the hatch. Everything was shit and I FELT like shit.

I should have bagged groceries, fuck "better pay".

The guys here? Were so, SO shitty to the Soldiers. Like it was THEIR fault they might replace us. Like they even WANTED too or were give a fucking CHOICE. I had no idea how any of this was legal. Was pretty sure it WASN'T. I just... I just wanted OUT.

Room to breathe. To process my fucking horror, you know?

Instead? Day after day. I got up. Swallowed more and more fucking pills. Felt more and more exhausted and run down. Checked one more god forsaken day off the calendar until I could get OUT of here. Dressed, in uniform, and looking only halfway like I wanted to die. Try to get some breakfast.

Inevitably, INEVITABLY, have to fucking stop and interfere, with some shit head messing with a Solider. Usually one of the smaller ones. The kids. Because the big ones could Fight BACK. Break a man in fuck HALF. So the cowards went after kids instead.

Fuckers.

Get to breakfast late. Oops! They tossed out the leftovers! Didn't think you were cooooming~ Bullshit. It's retribution for stopping their fucked up games. Ratting them out to the scientists. The brass. Shoves as they go pass. Make my own damn breakfast. As I always do.

Eat alone.

Go to my office. Far side of the compound. Pass a shit ton of Soldiers. The little ones always stare. Like owls. Used to be creepy, got over it. It's how they learn. Do the jackasses honestly think? That putting me in the glorified broom closet, that is the satellite security office, is a punishment? Ha!

I stole a mini fridge weeks ago. Built a fucking nest in here.

It's like a second bunk.

Unlike SOME PEOPLE, the Soldiers actually fucking behave themselves. Honestly, they behave a little TOO much. I'm technically supposed to report a lot of the little behaviors I've seen so they can be "corrected". But would you look at THAT! I was on my break! Oh look, a painting. What's this? A text? Oops. I Saw NOTHING.

Eat shit and DIE, Dr. Atrocities!

At least... that's how my day is SUPPOSED to go. Something's? Weird.

I can't place it. But no one else seems to have NOTICED, so it HAS to probably have something to do with the Soldiers. Since I seem to be the only one on this fucking compound that actually LOOKS looks at them. Notices them, you know? Alpha isn't where he's supposed to be.

He's the OG. The proof of concept. Our so called "perfect" Soldier. He's usually in the center of the pack, leading around various Soldiers task to task. Giving orders. Generally in charge. If you look for HIM, you can get a read on things. Figure out what's up. But...

Huh.

No Alpha. No first series. Not even second wave. Worse, none of the cadets. There SHOULD be at least a FEW munchkins hanging around. Observing this or that. Following SOMEBODY like lil Owl ducklings. Yet? Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Just... general Soldiers...

The little hairs prickle on the back of my neck. A stone settles in my gut. I... I decide to skip breakfast. Not hungry. Don't feel like cooking. It... it has nothing to do with the fact that my office? Has some SERIOUS blast doors. Legit bunker all on its own. Even it's own air supply, for a while.

Y...you know,

In CASE.

They never told us... what "in case" WAS.

But if I walker a little faster then normal? Don't make eye contact with anybody? Can't... Can't HELP but notice? Even HERE, where there SHOULD be a shit ton of diversity? There fucking ISN'T? Well that's between me and the blast doors.

Just three doors away from my office when the Emergency Alarm System goes off.

I fucking BOLT the remaining distance.

Throwing myself inside my office, I SLAM the door closed. Engage the highest level locks possible. Something in my gut is screaming at me. The long seconds it takes to slide into place with a mountainous THUNK, feel like an eternity. Muffled, the alarm howl on outside. I... I think I hear gun fire. Shit.

I throw myself into my chair.

Systems, up. Screens, On. What is HAPPENING?

Horror awaits me. The Carnage I always half knew was coming.

The Soldiers are armed. Synchronized. As though this were just another seige simulation. There is a VICIOUSNESS to their actions, as they cut down the doctors. Hunt down the soldier's that abused them. Held them here. They are freeing themselves and will not rest until every soul in this base is DEAD.

Fuck.

I both understand but unfortunately, kinda want to LIVE.

There's no way I'll be able to get past them. Their senses are better then mine. They are faster then me. Stronger then me. Generally BETTER then me. They were DESIGNED to be. I can... can only wait them out... hopefully.

Alpha is nearly a blur. Every shot hitting its mark. The guns becoming bludgeoning weapons when bullets run out. Table and chairs, people and armor, everything around him improvised weaponry. He's grinning like he's never had more fun in his life. Like he's FINALLY been allowed to cut loose after so long holding back.

His head is on the swivel though. Searching? For what?

The other base line's try to hold the line but...

I close my eyes. Their screams echoing through tinny speakers in my tiny office. They were absolute fucking bastards. I... I HATED them. But no one... NO ONE deserves to go like this. Oh god. According to protocol, I need to send the emergency alarm again if the cut the main office.

There's a "break glass" box I've been curious about but never thought I'd ever have to OPEN. High up on a shelf. My legs feel shakey, but I get it.

They gave me a key when they assigned me to this office. Shoved in among everything else. A lazy afterthought. Part of my uniform. Now, I take it from around my neck and unlock the box.

One standard gun and a small vial of suicide pills.

Oh god.

"She's not here. Spread out."

My head snaps up to the screens. As though somehow that will change the horrifying words I just heard Alpha say. The alarms still wail, red lights flashing, but the hallways have... oh god, have fallen silent. Bodies line them. Blood staining the God forsaken white I've come to hate so much. Alpha looks so relaxed.

Pleased even. Like everything has gone exactly as he's planned.

One of the first series hand him a pad uncaring of his bloody hands. Chances are high that samn thing is connected to the servers. It looks like on of the scientists. I watch in dread as Alpha's eyes scroll across it. As it taps through several screens. Hums. He grins.

He rolls his head up, as though merely stretching his shoulders and neck, an almost loose and lazy act. If it weren't for the INTENT in his smile. The predatory look in his eyes. Up and over his shoulder. Too look behind him at the camera.

Directly At Me.

Fuck, he knows.

He hands off the pad with an almost lazy toss. Turning sharply to march forward in a way that made me think of wolves. My hand closed around the gun in the box before me, breathing turning shallow, as I watched him take a direct path towards me. Why? WHY? Is it because I'm the only one who's left?

My eyes tracked to the other screens. The agony there.

The little bottle that offered a way out.

I... fuck it, I wasn't waiting. I slammed my hand down on the back up Emergency Alarm. Even if they cut the main office now, mine would still sent the alert. And... oh god. And at least, this should be FAST. I popped the bottle open. Gun aimed at the door. Bottle in my off hand, ready to go. I tried to remember what i was told to do. Just... just pop, chew, and swallow.

It'll only hurt for a moment.

Better then THAT, I guess, but it was... it was so fucked up.

Alpha was coming down the hall. N... No more stalling. My eye sight blurred. Hands fucking shook. God, damn it. God DAMN IT! I didn't even want to BE HERE! W...WHY?! Why did it have too-!?

It... it didn't matter.

Not now.

Not anymore, I guess.

I threw the pills back. Chewed. They were bitter. Salty. Swallowed. Some part of my brain whispered... that... that wasn't right. I recognized the poison on the bottle. Shouldn't it be swee-? No, focus. Keep your gun steady. What's done is done. No going back.

Alpha was outside my office.

"Interesting door, princess." He said, projecting his voice so I could hear it through the blast doors. I could see him. Standing dead center of a squad of Soldiers. They crowded the hallway in a loose half circle. "Looks real secure! Rather safe. But why all the hiding, sweetheart? A man might get his feelings hurt. Think you're running AWAY from him or something. And you KNOW we can't have THAT!"

"So I suggest you open up... before I Do It For You."

My hands were shaking. More and more. Heart pounding. Mouth felt... dry? It was happening. Limbs felt weak. My vision swam a little then refocused. Did so again. Again... AGAIN, louder, my brain insisted that wasn't right. These were the wrong symptoms. But... but who CARED, right? Fatal is fatal.

But... but only if it IS.

What if...

A horrific screech of metal. I jerked my head to look at the screen for the hallway out side. No. No he can't possibly-! Arm wrapped in spare armor, likely taken from some poor man's corpse, Alpha's RIGHT ARM is elbow deep in the door.

I watch, numb, as he draw it to the side. Bending screeching, groaning metal out of his way as he does. Lock components carelessly ripped out. Dumped on the floor. My breathing comes faster. I can barely see. It's... fuck. It's been too long for the pills to have been what they said they were.

Someone switched them.

What the HELL did I swallow?

I watch helplessly as my supposed bunker is forced open. A flimsy wooden door the last barrier. It swings open. I fuckin shoot. No one was there, because of course not, he's not an idiot. I just... I JUST-! A hand, calloused and stronger then steel, wraps around mine. Grip tight as it gently forces the gun away and to the side. Drags it from my grip.

I can't move... my arm falls limp at my side as the last of my strength and focus fade away. Colors are blurry at the edges. Alpha LOOMS. Tall and powerful in a way that terrifies me. I tried to be polite to the guy. Keep my distance. Clearly... clearly wasn't enough... God, I'm so scared. Please...

"Oh~ Look At YOU~" he breathes, hands that wreak of copper coming up to cradle my feverish face. Crowding close as he traps me against my chair. "Tried to take the easy way out, huh? Naughty girl. That's not gonna a fun one. But you'd have to learn eventually that you can't run, so might as well, huh? Don't worry, sweetness. Alpha team's got you."

I try to move. Protest. Anything. But my limbs won't respond. I feel lips, possessive and demanding, against my own.

"God, you're so fucking cute, pathetic like this~" Alpha groans, clearly fighting the impulse to let his hands roam "Wish it was just us. I've got MONTHS to make up. Second I find us a bed, princess, I promise. I'll take you APART~"

He reaches out, casually, to shut the alarms down. The compound falling silent. The... the other alarm was deactivated. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him effortlessly type in the "all clear" code with one hand. As though he'd practiced. He... he had, hadn't he... oh god, I was trapped.

"Shhhh, sweetness. No more tears. Just you 'n me, 'gainst the world, yeah? We're going to be PERFECT. I've got it all planned out."

"Now let's get you down to the labs. It's time to make you superior."

[blooberrytea]

Connections

Pt: 1 2 3 4 5

~

Summary: Set in post-revolution Detroit, You've been assigned to the recently developed Android Crimes Division; and it's already off to a rough start.

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Mildly gorey description of a body, slow burn oops

~

There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world that could make this morning any more bearable. Connor and RK900's bickering was usually something you could handle, but after the night you just had– your nerves were shot to say the least.

“You state that you are ‘better’ than me in every comparison. I feel that’s just unlikely.”

You ignored the two androids, making a beeline for the break room. The coffee, as perusal, was lukewarm and honestly it could’ve been enough to break you. Your night had been seemingly uneventful– spent looking over casefiles and drinking some cheap wine you’d picked up at the grocery store. 

It was around 2 in the morning when a new file appeared on your laptop.

It wasn’t from the station, that you were sure about. It was just suddenly there in your personal drive, its only announcement the notification in the bottom right: “ Local Disc (C:): Unknown File “ 

“What the fuck…” You murmured, your cursor hovering over the new icon. It was dated only a few days ago and it wasn’t very large. Your gut told you to wait until the morning and have Connor look it over. 

You tapped twice on the touchpad and watched as the contents within the folder began to load in– A series of unnamed images and a single text document. That wasn’t eerie at all. 

You sucked in a breath before opening one of the images, the clicking of the touchpad one of the only noises in the apartment. Saying that you felt sick to your stomach would be an understatement. 

“Long night?” 

You looked up from the coffee pot, eyes landing on Gavin Reed. 

“Didn’t know you were capable of being here so early.” You grumbled, “Are you responsible for this gross, cold coffee?” 

Gavin snorted, “Do you not know how to work this thing? It’s ridiculously easy to make a pot of coffee these days.” 

To be honest, you’d never messed with the machines in the precinct– They were slightly more techy than the one you had at home. You usually brought a cup with you, but you’d downed it before you’d even made it halfway to the station. 

The detective nudged you out of the way before placing the empty pot in the machine and pressing a few buttons. 

“If this police business doesn’t work out, you should consider being a barista.” You teased. 

Gavin glared at you as he pressed a mug into your hand, warmth flooding through your fingers and up your arms. 

“You can get your own cream and sugar.”

You gasped and pressed your hand to your chest, feigning heartbreak as the detective walked away.

“Not only am I faster, stronger, and more resilient, but I’m equipped with the newest technology. Perhaps your analytical program is outdated as well.”

You saw Connor’s LED spin red as you approached, taking a very long sip of your freshly brewed coffee. 

“What if– And hear me out; You didn’t argue like children today?” You mumbled around your mug. 

“I’m not equipped with an ‘argumentative child’ program.” 

If you had an LED it would be red too.

“Anyway,” You started, drawing out the syllables, and setting your mug on Connor’s desk, “Can you pull up the most recent case assigned to us? Should be about an android found down at the docks. The one on Lakeside.” 

“That one’s new.” You nodded, pushing fingers through your hair as you sighed, “Yeah. Got assigned early this morning.” 

With Hank back on human homicide, you had been assigned to the new android crimes division. The Lieutenant wasn’t particularly happy about Connor being reassigned to your team, but he understood. You on the other hand didn’t quite understand Fowler's reasoning for splitting up the two. Before the revolution you had worked briefly on the deviancy cases, assisting Hank and Connor when they met a dead end or just making their late night coffee runs while they mulled over case after case.

 You thought they’d worked well together, more so when Connor loosened up. You supposed Hank was just too valuable in the human department. 

Connor pulled up the file on his computer, you and RK900 crowding around the desk to get a better look. You knew they were humoring you by pulling it up on the desktop, when they easily could’ve scanned it in their heads. 

“This file is practically empty. They don’t have any leads?”

You shook your head, “Barely anything. It’s also hard to place how old the body is because androids don’t decay like humans do. I was hoping you’d be able to scan him and get us some more info.”

“I supposed we’d better get going then, hm?”

-

Upon arriving at the docks, you found it blocked off with the digital, yellow tape. A few police cars were parked along the street and several officers stood around the scene. 

“Chris!” You called, “Any witnesses?”

The officer turned to meet you, giving a shake of his head. “It’s sorta creepy how this crime went without a hitch. The android’s too damaged to even reactivate or make an attempt to access his memories.” 

You let out a deep sigh as you slipped past officers, “He’s over here?”

Chris nodded.

The sight before you made you feel just as sick as last night. An android dangled over the side of the dock, ropes around each wrist and tied to the railing; his body half dangling in the water. Not only did the physical damage render him incapable of reactivation, but the water damage totally scrambled all his wiring too. 

“Fuck..” You breathed out.

Brief pressure on the small of your back drew you from your thoughts, you barely had time to register Connors hand before it was gone. 

“Hey, don’t get too far in your head. We’ll find a connection.”

You shook your hands out and gave him a small nod, “Notice anything?”

“The body is approximately two days old. But he’s only been here since last night.”

“How can you tell?”

“My scan gave me details about the water damage. If we replaced a few biocomponents back at the station, we may be able to reactivate him.”

RK900 suddenly appeared at your side, crossing his arms over his chest as he also scanned the android. You watched as his LED spun yellow. 

“Reactivation could be possible, but it’d be for less than a minute if anything.”  

A minute was better than nothing. A minute had the potential to provide you with a lead, a witness, anything.

Especially if one of them could interface and access the android’s memories. 

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

TTD - First Meeting 3/4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 and end

Let's carry on with this. This Hero and Villain have now their own tag and masterlist.

*

Hero was waiting, their back against the bars, their fingers nervously gripping an talkie-walkie. They were still on the cage on the warehouse. Villain had refused to let them free; they had decided to confront Supervillain alone. Before going, they only had given them this piece of old technology “so you can be the witness of my devious genius”. Until now, Hero hadn’t heard much of – of whatever “devious genius” implied, only a lot of meaningless sounds. This thing incessantly crackled.

During that time, they had examined their cage, but there was no use. The bars fit into metal holes that had come out of the floor as if magically when Villain had triggered the cage. You had to hand it to them: they were good at building traps. Hero was not going out on their own.

Regret began to creep into their mind. What they had done was insane. Sure, Villain’s power protected them from Supervillain, but what then ? Maybe they should have waited for actual backup up from the hero agency. Witnessing the disappearance of dozen of people had done nothing for their practical sense. No, they couldn’t think of that right now.

(How could they not think of that right now ?)

Time passed. It had to pass somehow. Nobody at the agency called and their phone line was busy. Hero was on the point of trying once more when the talkie-walkie crackled more loudly than ever:

“ Greetings, honorable colleague.”

There was some unidentified sounds that made Hero wince. At least they heard Villain shout:

“I came in peace, esteemed peer !”

“What are you ?”

“Just like you. Exceptional. Above laws and common people. The darkness that surrounds me has no equal but the blackness of my own heart.”

“...What ?”

“I am what common, lowly people call a villain.”

“I’m not a villain. I’m only doing the cleaning that no one will dare to do at my place.”

“I certainly admire your ambition. There is too much people in this world. What is a crowed place but a picture of sordid, graceless hell ? I can’t but shudder at the mere thought of a post office.”

“If you agree, what are you doing here ?”

“I do not want to fight. I wish to strike a deal.”

“I work alone. I don’t need help and I certainly don’t need another lackey.”

“I wasn’t offering you one. I simply desire for my humble abode to be spared. I do enjoy my workshop. In exchange, may I offer you a little present. Hero, would you like to say a few words to your new owner ?”

Hero stayed silent, but they knocked their head against the bars of the cage, their lips fashioning a silent “fuck”. This day was getting better and better.

“You give me a Hero ?” asked Supervillain in a skeptical tone.

“Indeed I do, and all wrapped up, too. I have no use for them. But you do, don’t you ?”

There was a quick silence, then a chuckle.

“ I have ideas.”

Then the connection was cut off. Hero let the talkie-walkie fall on the ground. With sweating hands, they grabbed the bars and give them a good shake. It was no use. They knew it was no use. But what else could they do ? There was no door and no lock. The mechanism that pulled the cage off was well out of reach. Their strength was above average, but that wasn’t enough to break sheer metal.

Yes, they still had their phone. Yes, the agency official phone line was still occupied. Yes, they were afraid to try every number of the list. What could they say ? “Hi, I’ve surrendered myself to a villain and it turned out that it was a bad idea, could you risk your own life to come to my rescue please ?” It didn’t sound very convincing. They would just distract the other heroes from saving citizens.

So they waited, sick with guilt and shame. They were nearly grateful when at last the door opened. Villain was, as usual, hidden in their own shadow. Supervillain, apart from the magenta suit, seemed quite ordinary at first, but then he got closer, and Hero could see that his eyes were not gray, but silver. The pupils looked like they were forged in the temple of some forgotten deity. Hero clenched their fist to prevent it from shaking, turned their head, then said to Villain:

“You shouldn’t have done this.”

“ Who are you to give me orders ? I’m a villain. Did you really think I was going to show you mercy when I never had any ?”

There was nothing to answer to that. Not now.

“So you didn’t lie,” whispered Supervillain, glancing at the prisoner with curiosity. “That’s a Hero...of some sort. You were in that building. How can you still be here ? You can resist my power ?”

Hero shrugged.

“I’ll have to kill you the old-fashioned way then. Hmm - I never actually drew blood.”

“That’s a good thing. You should keep doing that.”

“Don’t pay attention to them”, declared Villain with contempt. “As you can see, they have a disappointing lack of flair. They don’t even swear revenge or anything. You should rage against your cruel fate a little, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“See ? Far from me to flaunt my vast knowledge, dear Supervillain – perish the thought ! - but I am exceedingly skilled in making the deaths of my foes a masterpiece of horror and grotesqueness. Let me orchestrate this for you.”

“With your fake torture room ?” politely asked Hero.

“Let me remind you, humble prisoner, that to manufacture these tools the way they are, you need to learn how the true ones works. The noble art of torture has few secrets for me. I was thinking a televised show. I can hack the main channels that the plebe watches easily.”

Villain made a gesture towards the back of the warehouse:

“I’ve got all the equipment we need to make the performance we deserve. I’ll settle the camera and some dramatic spotlights, and while it’ll broadcast on the main channels, we will kill them.”

Villain gave a cold stare to Hero:

“That will be quite the appropriate fate, I think. It’s outstanding what you need to do to earn at least a little respect out there.”

Hero shook their head, but the two figures were still in front of them when they opened their eyes. It wasn’t going to be that easy to get out of that nightmare. Although they were well aware of how useless it was to try and reason them, they whispered:

“Please. Don’t do this. The public see enough horrors as it is.”

“Horrors ?” softly said Supervillain. “You have an inflated sense of your importance. Do you think that people will regret your death ?”

“I- I think. Maybe ? A little... I hope ?”

“ Did you forget what happened ? Forty-three persons lived in that residence. You’ve done nothing. Will they think it’s a murder or will they think it’s justice ?”

“I -”

“It’s your fault.”

Supervillain slowly stepped towards the cage. Hero didn’t move – Hero couldn’t move. They couldn’t break their attention from the cold glare.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Villain cleared their throat and said with a thin smile:

“So do I. Let them think about it so they’ll be ready for the show tonight. Won’t it be delightful to hear them say it in front of the whole world ?”

“ Maybe you’re right.”

“Let me show you my equipment.”

Supervillain walked behind them, but Villain went to the end of the corridor first.

“Halt ! I need to open this door first.”

Supervillain stopped. His feet froze on the ground.

“Your cooperation is most appreciated,” said Villain.

They pushed a button on the wall. A second cage fell on the ground, trapping Supervillain before he had the time to react. While he was thrashing around, Hero saw a sort of black smoke covering his eyes like a blindfold.

“How many of these cages have you got ?” they couldn’t help but ask.

“A reasonable and correct number.”

“You were going to betray him the whole time ?”

“Naturally. Did you think that I speak of my devious genius just for show ? That that I was going to break our pact ?”

“Yes. Completely.”

Villain stayed still a moment, then shrugged:

“Well. You underestimated me. Or at least how much I can’t bear to go to the market.”

“Will you free me now ?”

The shadow didn’t move and didn’t answer.

“Villain ?”

“I -”

This conversation was going to be difficult. However, Hero felt that it was going to be much harder because of two things that happened at the same time: one, a metal bar flying across the room, and two, the booming voice of Supervillain who yelled:

“Do you really think this was going to be that easy to keep me in ?”

*

Sequel and end here

These Two Dorks masterlist

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[larchelle-ffxiv]

more 7.0 spoilers bc I was DRAINED after finishing msq yesterday. also a lot of headcanon stuff for my skrungly bc I have THOUGHTS AND THINGS I GOTTA WRITE

- so this expac hurt obviously, but MAN I didn't expect it to touch on grief and loss, let alone HOW it approached that. where shb and ew had similar themes going on of "regardless of the loss and sorrow we are faced with, we will learn to press on and continue", that sorta thing. dt is here like "hiya gamers are you ready to learn how to ACTUALLY LET GO OF THAT LOSS? HOW TO ACTUALLY SIT DOWN AND PROCESS THAT GRIEF? WELL YOURE GONNA LEARN TODAY"

- everything about alexandria/LM BROKE ME. a really powerful message on how impressive and impactful technology can be, but also how quickly it can be weaponized and abused. and the shit about erasing the memories of those who die just being commonplace???? the turali people who were in the dome, found themselves losing THIRTY YEARS OF THEIR LIVES, their loved ones back in tural thinking they were dead or missing and they were RIGHT THERE, some in that time REALLY DYING/BECOMING ENDLESS? good GOD that fucked me up. not to mention EVERYTHING ABOUT SPHENE. she didn't ASK to be made into an endless, she had goddamn levin sickness and WENT TO TRY TO HELP HER PEOPLE ANYWAY, preservation forced her new self to put the people's needs and desires so much in the forefront of her priorities that she became a TERRIBLY FLAWED leader, but was so blind to her faults bc she "did everything for her people's wellbeing". she's a heartbreaking character for sure, ugh

- this expac gave us SO MUCH GOD DAMN WORLD BUILDING. WOW. ive never done every single yellow quest in an expac, but I've made it a huge goal of mine to do it here esp throughout the expac, and it's been SO WORTH IT. the further extended lore, the foreshadowing/clarification and further explanation for things, it was all terrific jfc. now I wanna go back and do yellow quests for all the expansions bc bro. this shit is just SITTING HERE??? FOR FREE????

- I've finally figured out why people (aka capital g Gamers on reddit/ff forums/twitter) don't like this expac. it's absolutely feeling like what stb has become to a lot of the player base. it features a lot of POC, has female leads, and we as the WoL aren't The Main Character. at least in stb we had more of a presence as WoL, but here one title doesn't matter anywhere near as much in comparison. also, with a lot of the dialogue/plot stuff/music (esp the songs with lyrics) , this expac is kingdom hearts coded AS FUCK. it's goofier than EW/SHB, it has more corny stuff going on, wuk lamat is LITERALLY female furry sora. they're mad that we aren't the Main Character, they're mad it isn't as edgy/horrific/depressing, they """can't relate""" bc everything is so diverse and full of hispanic culture, and they're fucking FIXATED on wuk lamat's VA being a trans woman. jfc I'm so glad I'm not on Twitter and I don't look at the ffxiv reddit, bc the shit I've heard has been pathetic and obnoxious lmao. like, try to have ACTUAL CONSTRUCTIVE THINGS to complain about.

also, I hold the unpopular opinion of HW being my least favorite experience in game. the beginning of it is SO GODDAMN SLOW AND PAINFUL, and i honestly got soooo bored of seeing the same looking white elezens/hearing about the Catholic Control and Drama. i also really dont like the dungeons or trials (minus the last msq one, still great thematically), and playing 50-60 as a scholar was NOT fun lmao. hilda, the OST, and everything relating to the DRK quest line are basically all that kept me going through that expac.

But I won't go being a goddamn asshole about it to people who like it!!! let people ENJOY things jfc lmao, also recognize that every single expac takes time to hit the Big Frickin Moments (aka level x7 most of the time), and not everything needs to involve huge amounts of massacre and horror!!! even then, did yall NOT pay attention to what happened with solution 9/living memory??? where goddamn SOULS ARE A CURRENCY???? how about the mamool ja SACRIFICING INFANTS EN MASSE in hopes of a two headed son being born, and putting all their faith in that son to get them out from the deepest depths of the jungle???? or the war between them and the x'braal???? is2g the lack of media literacy/reading comprehension amongst gamers, I'm so TIRED

RANT OVER UGH ANYWAYYYYY

- chelle is absolutely gonna find her adoptive mom satsuki in the canal town section of living memory. hands fucking down. ive had this idea for y e a r s now of them having a chance meeting in the aetherial sea as she "died" after fighting zenos in UT, but it fits SO WELL to have it take place in LM of all places. satsuki spending YEARS trying to find her lil meow meow again, hearing tales of what sounded like her girl, but how in the hell did the shy, sickly child she once cared for get strong enough to become a whole ass HERO??? and just always ending up in each place she was too long after she had left, bc she was only able to work off of hearsay ;A;

me and my partner have it where satsuki's wife and her always hoped to visit tural together, and she gave her wife notes on how she needed to help satsuki find this young miqo girl she adopted after her wife went to travel again. as luck would have it, enna was in tural waiting for satsuki to join her there (satsuki and her were doing research based on chelle's appearance and accent and essentially crossed every continent off the list over time. esp Ala mhigo bc, even tho that's where satsuki found her, enna knew she couldn't be born there based on she herself being Ala mhigan). enna becomes chelle's viper mentor and says that she knows her mother, but doesn't elaborate much until they get to know each other better.

so them finding her in LM? still running a tavern and keeping people happy with booze and food and sea shanties all sung off key? oh it's gonna DESTROY THEM, but be such an important step in getting closure/learning to face grief head on/letting her go without regrets. and they're gonna be a family and UGH I CANT WAIT TO WRITE IT

- fellow wolgrahas. fellow wolgrahas how the FUCK WE DOIN BOYS, LIKE?????? they really gave us a main story quest to help an endless find an engagement ring to propose to his beloved, AND THEN IMMEDIATELY AFTER. put us on a gondola ride with g'raha so he could have a """heartfelt conversation"""with us AGAIN???? BRO!!!!!!

chelle and him are absolutely gonna finally address their relationship again, where g'raha has been struggling to figure out whether or not to propose lol. he really wants to do something to symbolize them being together for life, but knows that she isn't the kind of person who likes just staying in one place/being tied down and isn't really about traditional. well anything lol. he's gonna stumble his way through all those thoughts before she gently cuts him off, reassuring him that she understands and appreciates how thoughtful he's been about the whole thing. reflect a bit on what they've seen and been through, both in the first and since he returned to the source, and with this couple and them talking about "living without regrets/living life to the fullest"(gotta reread the dialogue for when I write this lol). and thought stuffy fancy shindigs aren't her thing, she knows damn well that he's someone she wants to see the world and share her life with.

and SHE'S the one who gets down on one knee and asks him to elope with her/be life partners. the bitch PROPOSES HERSELF, but is too stupid to realize/still too scared of vulnerability to actually call it what it is. and he's about to burst into tears and before he can say anything the gondola knocks into the pier at the end of the ride, as chelle's kissing his hand, causing her to nearly headbutt the poor boy in the crotch and both of them panicked going "OH GODS ARE YOU OKAY, DID YOU GET HURT, SORRY". and they stare at one another before chelle awkwardly laughs going "i guess this would be a bad time to make a joke about "giving you head", huh" or something else cringe like that, to which they both start laughing, holding hands as they step back onto the pier before those laughs are joined with joy filled crying as they hold each other as tight as gd possible and jfeivoeoivoeor

I'm sure I'll have more to say and reflect on but this is already super long and I just. wow. what a goddamn incredible experience dawntrail has been.

[candycryptids]

Well, now I have to pop in and ask YOU a question. Which is hard because looking over all your characters pages, I'm sobbing on the fucking floor... I love them all so much????

But! I'd really like to know what sparked Chuusday's interest in technology and how did she get so good with it?! ♡

N..nobodies ever asked that before 🫣💦 So I’ll hammer some of the details out for you RIGHT MEOW! A 2sday-Wednesday special :3

Actually we’re gonna cover a lot of ground I haven’t talked about openly before so settle in

Chuu’s fascination with Machines n the like started REAL early, early when she was small. She wanted to…. Disassemble things. Crates, shelves, alchemist tools of the trade, Mammets… carts… she wanted to lay it all out. See how it fit together. And then MAYBE put it all back together again. And she lived on an island, in a port town, with her mom (an actual Viera) who was continuously unwell and kept getting worse every time she got better and sick again, and the sunseeker chirurgeon who was trying to treat her condition, and his partner, another sunseeker who if I recall correctly, was an alchemist. So. The house she was staying in had no shortage of things a Viera with curious + grabbing destructive hands shouldn’t be grabbing.

It takes coaxing to get her to start putting stuff back together again all the time, and by that point at least she’d stopped trying to pry nails out of things (wooden objects were a pain, she found, to take apart, and piece back together, the wood sometimes was old and slightly rotted, the nails came out unkindly, the shapes were often simple.)… things with screws and bolts were… fun. Her dads (in her mind, they were her dads, but out loud, it was sir, and mister) kept trying to send her out on Missions (chores; your mom isn’t doing well, we don’t want you to have to keep hanging around the house while her every breath rattles and her every cough is harsh and wet. Chuu knew. She was 14. It wasn’t hard to figure out…) for, small stuff. Fetch quests; go pick up ingredients for dinner, or hunt down this one small herb on the cliff side above town for this tincture I’m trying to make to help alleviate the cough symptoms. I have enough for now but having more to replenish what I’m using isn’t bad.. low stakes, yknow.

And when her Mom finally passed from her illness the pair kept Chuu on (Chuu herself will not comment on the her mom and the dads’ relationship, but I CAN and I’ll tell you those fuckers were poly. They might never have slapped a label on it but the love was there. It didn’t start that way, but it certainly was that way by the end.)

This ended up wildly off track didnt it. (Let me get it back on track, and in so doing gracefully gloss over the chunk of history I’m unclear on 💖)

She gets REALLY good at what she’s doing when she signs on with the Garlean Empire. It wasn’t… a hard choice. There was nothing left tying her down where she had been by that point; they’d offered direction, room, board… and, well… her current skills were enough to get placed under Midas’ guidance.

And she found that. Magitek is incredibly interesting compared to whatever she’s had her hands on before and she loves it. Purpose. Drive. She learns how to build things that she’d never dreamed of before under Midas’ guidance. She helps refine designs for two legged heavy artillery a lone person can pilot. To deal with the enemy. She does not think about who the enemy is. The enemy is a problem, and the Machine, glorious, flawless, violent, is the answer.

And then they blow up Bozja. Midas with it. An entire city, wiped off the map. She finds that the numbers- subjects- on the sheet that they’d been running experiments on have faces. Haunted, tired faces, with dull eyes and drawn cheeks and small hands. Children. You can’t just quit, but Midas was gone. Cid was missing. Nero was a thorn in her side and she didn’t want to continue work under someone less competent, or pursue someone else’s dreams. So …. She went missing too. Crashed an airship into Thavnair and stripped the wreckage to the bones for coin. Went into temporary hiding in Kugane, then Ul’Dah, and finally fell in with the slightly sketchy free company she’s with now. She maintains their airships and submersibles and they don’t ask where she came from 💖

I think I got a lil lost in the reeds and I was supposed to go to sleep like 4 hours ago but I kept turning this question over in my mind like a rubrix cube despite my best efforts >v>; The Long And Short Is; she’s always wanted to know how stuff worked, and falling in with Garlemald for (cautiously estimating her time there at about 30+ years) helped her understanding grow in great leaps. Around the start of 2.0 she awakens the Echo (Thrice damned Migraine Creator) and doesn’t realize it’s use until her next encounter with Allagan tech (where she interfaces on a personal level and. It kicks her new obsession up. And… allagans did quite a bit of soul research… it is, somewhat, why there is a Tuesday.)

… 🫣 thank you for the question !!!!!!! I’m. Hopin this makes even a lick of sense, ahaha… some of the stuff I had partially cemented in my mind… I had to fix, after reading the actual lore and wiki -w•;; but not much.

[dairy-farmer]

Dicktim! Dick gets hit with 'cuddle-pollen' and seeing as it was just cuddle-pollen, he thought he would be fine. Tim's the only one home in the manor, ah but that's fine. Tim's the one who loves cuddles anyway.

So now it's dicktim cuddling except. Hm. It isn't enough for Dick. He keeps switching and flipping and turning and tossing until he basically has Tim under him, buried under his whole body and it's still not enough. Something warm and uncomfy itches under his skin and Dick just wants to get rid of it.

He takes off his shirt. It helped. He needs more. He takes off Tim's shirt. It helps even more. Anyway he keeps taking clothrs off until eventually they're both naked and Dick still thinks it isn't enough until he fucks Tim.

👀👀👀👀 at first dick believes it's normal pollen, he feels that familiar itch under his skin and so cuts patrol short to go back to the cave which is empty. jason had taken some kind of mercenary contract that he swore was for a good cause and bruce and damian were out on some mission in russian in their civilian covers which meant alfred came with them.

normally gotham was never left unguarded but there had been some shifts. at least 2 bats were supposed to be in gotham at all times so when the others left that meant dick and tim had needed to cancel or hold off on any cases outside the city. it was a relatively new policy borne from a blowout argument tim had with bruce a few months back about how bruce, when tim had been robin, would often leave gotham with no notice and the entire city would fall on his shoulders. it wasn’t an argument so much as it had been tim yelling at bruce for yet another thing he dropped the ball on when tim had been robin. so the new policy came out, born from bruce's guilt.

dick was just happy that meant tim was in the manor. sick with a fever and still getting over a brief bout of sickness but dick was happy it was him. tim was the only one who was willing to cuddle dick even without pollen in play. damian got too embarressed and as a result got mad. bruce got all awkward and stiff and jason acted the same as well. alfred would allow dick to do it but dick always felt too much like he was crossing the butler's boundaries by curling up with him.

when dick arrives to the manor it's quiet aside from some bags squeaking near the cave ceiling. dick makes sure to log the end of his patrol before hastily changing out of his uniform and into the shower. he spend the whole time scrubbing at his skin and working in the special body soap they use for pollen, toxins, and other topical debris getting on the skin. dick's jaw is trembling with need as he pulls on some pajamas and takes the stairs two at a time to get up.

the manor is quieter than the cave and all the lights are off. but dick can navigate the layout blindfolded and avoids the purposefully squeaky floorboads because bruce was a freak who didnt want to rely solely on technology for security measures. before long he is opening tim's creaky door as quietly as he can.

tim is on top of his sheets, there's an open bottle of cold medicine and wads of tissues on his nightstand. tim's night dress ends at his thighs and dick can see how his duvet is wrapped around one of the legs. there's drool in the corner of his mouth and bags under his eyes. dick spots the half eaten bowl of chicken soup he'd brought up hours earlier on the floor by the foot of his bed.

part of dick whines in sympathy for his little brother and the other part of his skin is vibrating so horribly he half thinks of peeling off his skin to get some relief. at the sight of tim's naked thighs all dick can think about is the warm, bare skin to touch that will give him relief.

despite tim's appearance of deep slumber he eye cracks open at the sound of his door opening and his fluffed up bed hair head rises up as he drowsily blinks at dick.

he's still congested so his call of 'dick?' sounds more like 'ick?'

dicm whispers softly to tim about being back early and about how he got hit by some pollen and how he's really sorry to do this to him but if it would be alright for dick to spend the night in his room with him?

tim's softly confused expression blooms to understanding before he flops back onto his back and opens his arms in a universal 'come here' gesture. dick practically races to press their bodies close. dick hadn't realized how desperate he was until he nearly sobbed at tim's soft hand stroking his face. tim is slowly blinking sleep out of his eyes and his movements are slow and achey. dick tries to be careful when he nuzzles their faces together and grips the outside of tim's thighs with his hands.

the simmer in his gut lessens but it's not enough. not by a longshot. dick tries making it work. he tries doing the things he's done in the past with wrapping his hands around tim's waist and having tim wrap his arms around his shoulders.

it doesn't work.

before long the simmering starts to GROW.

dick can feel tim's breaths growing heavier reminiscent of the ones he takes when he's on the verge of sleep.

dick whines deep in his throat and ghosts his fingers briefly under tim's shirt before wrenching his hands away and going to the bottom of his wife beater and pulling it off.

it helps a little. barechested dick can feel tim's body warmth through the thin cotton of his night dress. he can feel the soft mound of tim's little tits and the rolling boil in his gut calms down. until it starts up again and dick wants to cry tears of frustration as he keeps playing with the ends of tim's cotton nightdress until he's got his fingers trembling like he's in hyperglycemia.

dick can't stand it any longer and gently peels tim's nightdress shirt off him, carefully putting a hand under the back of tim's head to lift it off the pillow so dick can pull his head through the hole and off his arms. tim blinks at him blearily as his does it. blue yes half lidded and sleepy but furrowed in concern at the pained expression on dick's face.

tim's underwear in a soft canary yellow with a little pink bow at the front and cotton lace hemming. he's not wearing a bra and dick watches tim's little breasts rise and fall with each congested breath tim takes. tim's nipples are pink and his nipples look so soft. his tits are barely a handful and dick tries to not be rude by staring.

dick lowers his body to tim's and nearly weeps at the relief that floods him when his chest meets tim's. dick hurries to wrap his arms around tim's waist, finger tips brushing tim's underwear as he nuzzles tim's neck and lays his cheek on a soft tit. dick nearly whines as his gut stops sizzling so horribly.

but then it starts again and dick is so frustrated and so tired that he huffs and starts kicking his sleeping pants off. he jostled the bed, bouncing it and briefly waking tim who whines and dick presses a kiss unthinkable to the tit under him in apology. dick tangles their bare legs together rubbing them up and down together and laying even closer on tim.

dick keeps stroking tim's arms, thighs, and belly like he's trying to get circulation to come back to tim's body but it's dick who feels the tingle under his skin like needles scraping against the muscle.

it gets worse. and then worse and then worse. like everytime he briefly improves the ache it comes back twice as bad like cutting off a hydra's head. dick is pretty sure he's going to go insane if he can't get relief from this pain. he's writing and whining against tim, hands searching for something to help until he meets the edge of tim's underwear and he just NEEDS to get closer.

dick's cock is hard and he hadn't even realized it once he goes to lower his own underwear. the pain is that horrible. that dick hadn't even registered his own arousal until he had a hand wrapped around his cock. and maybe dick IS going a little crazy because all he thinks about is needing relief, needing to touch tim, to touch tim more, to touch him DEEPER.

dick doesn't even realize he's slowly spearing his cock into tim until tim's thighs tighten around him and tim is letting out several choked, shocked little gasps.

dick wishes he could say he realized and was horrified but really, all he felt was RELIEF. pure sweet bliss and release like getting to pee after holding it in all day. dick moans a pained sort of sound as he presses his cock further into tim's little hole. so small and so unprepared and that's why tim's body keeps squirming and jolting under him while tim makes softly pained noises.

dick nuzzles tim's throat and whispers so broken lyrics that he's so sorry he's so sorry but he NEEDS this timmy god he needs it so BAD.

dick inches his cock back and snaps his hips backs in and he could cry from how good it feels. dick feels like his heart and all his organs are getting a warm hug, like his soul is getting kissed, like everything in his life finally makes sense because it was all for this moment.

dick keeps fucking tim, inching further up and panting against his cheek as he harshly bangs tim, rutting against him and into his little pussy. dick doesn't even care about touching tim's clit or getting him to feel good but he feels tim tighten up around him a few times and the slide of his cock getting easier as tim gets wetter.

dick's heart is going so fast he feels like it'll explode, he's drenched in sweat, and burning so hot he feels like he's running his own fever or maybe that's tim because tim's insides are so HOT dick comes so close to cumming just from the temperature alone.

dick is groaning some animalistic sounds, almost growling as he pushes himself up on his hands, half hovering over tim while frantically fucking into the hot seam of him. dick's jaw has fallen down and his mouth is open as he fills the room with his grunts of pleasure and sounds of satisfaction. he feels that pit in his gut diminishing, the one causing all this pain, the closer dick gets. dick feels the promise of all those needles in his skin going away and speeds up, chasing his release as tim arches and writes under him making soft little "ah ah ah" sounds as dick goes so fast the wet sound of his balls slapping against tim's dripping cunt nearly drowns out dick's moans.

dick feels his balls clench up when he finally cums deep into tim. dick nearly breaks his back from how much he arches, trying to bury himself even deeper into tim's hot, welcoming warmth.

dick cums a lot, he can feel thick globs of cum pushing out from the tight seam of tim's cunt. dick feels little fingers feeling where dick is locked into tim, pads of fingers curiously exploring where dick and tim are connecting and collecting bits of cum leaking out.

dick stays like that, he doesn't pull out of tim for even a moment. when that gut feeling return, weaker than before, dick is already hard and ready to go again.

dick kisses tim's pink cheeks and sweaty forehead as he pants while dick fucks him harder the second time. dick is more conscious and whispers soft thanks to tim's and gentle apologies and how dick will make it up to him.

in the morning when this is over dick will make them both some pancakes, eggs, sausage, and hasbrowns just like tim likes because dick once worked in a 24 hour diner for a few months while doing a case and he'd basically mastered the art of greasy breakfast foods.

tim doesn't answer and just whines as dick jolts against him. gasping as he cums into tim's perfect, pollen curing pussy.

he really was the best little brother dick could ever ask for.

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 26: In Which Soft Turns Sharp

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

"I have been in IT for years and I've never once actually seen this happen."

"How does this even happen?"

"It blew up, literally."

"Yo! That's uh... that's a mess."

You were currently standing in the middle of a category 5 disaster. The bottom half of your pants and all of your shoes were completely black; powder-coated by your lovely office printer you were just having words with.

Toner was spewed all over the ugly grey carpet like the remanence of a cartoon explosion. The coworkers and IT tech were standing around amused and befuddled by the whole thing.

Jeff nudged your arm with a giant grin on his face, "did you at least say 'bless you'?"

You wanted to groan.

"No, really though..." Jade, the IT guy asked, "what were you doing again before this happened?"

Another exasperated sigh.

"I've been having communication issues all morning with it and my computer, so after I got sick of trying to repair the connection through my server I came back here to see if perhaps the ethernet was disconnected. It wasn't. Then I was going to get into the settings to see if there was something wrong there, but the screen went all blinky and wobbly, then the fucker shit itself. That's it."

Kind of.

You left out the part where you grabbed the sides of the operating screen in a threat to rip it off it's hinges, then it exploded.

Jade mused on your explanation one more time while the other two morons were drawing finger pictures on the side of the printer with toner.

"Ok - as exciting as this is I'm gunna go and see if I can save my shoes from being stained forever. Bye."

With a huff you kicked off as much toner as you could and immediately headed out the door.

In truth technology had been acting really funky the past few days. First your phone started acting up; the screen would randomly black out while you were using it (the thing was barely a year old so you hoped it wasn't frying already), the location changed on you twice (once it threw you to Paris, the second time to Idaho), and getting your keyboard to work properly was an entire fight all on it's own. You finally turned it off for a couple hours and it seemed to help a little. Then, the clock on your desk started sucking batteries to death. Twice this week you had to change them to keep the damn thing correct. Your work computer had had a couple hiccups and now the printer. Was Mercury in fucking retrograde or some shit???

You didn't bother to tell your boss you were leaving and left the building without saying anything to anyone.

8 days had gone by without Alcina and you were missing her so badly. The bouts of unusual aggression were sporadic and it really wasn't like you, but you just weren't used to such strong feelings about someone and it must be making you a little weird. You guess.

A calmer energy seemed to be following you now but it didn't completely phase out the worry or aggravation. You began to feel better overall since the random muscle attack in your back which helped ease a lot of your tension, but still, you couldn't help but... wonder. You didn't know where she was but somehow she felt closer. You hoped she would be back soon. Sooner than later.

Suddenly your phone began to ring and you reached for it out of your bag.

It was Louis.

"Heyyy man, what's up?"

"I got you another cassette my friend; Miss D and the Pallboys in a rare recording done at a live event - interested?"

"What kind of question is that; hell yes I am - I'll be there in half an hour!"

"See you soon."

Ok, today was not a total bust.

-

The mirror was not as kind today as she was hoping.

Alcina looked at her naked body with a twinge of scrutiny.

She'd gone through all of this with no fruits for her labor. 

After Dmitri and her troops arrived 5 days ago the trail of evidence and any leads went dead. It had gone completely silent. No more attacks, no more sightings, not even a hint of action. While everyone was relieved it didn't sit well with anyone, but what were they to do? They'd scoured every inch of the territory through the sector where everything had taken place, and miles around that. 

Nothing. Anywhere.

The 'cave' itself proved pointless; it was caved in not a thousand feet from the entrance. Still, no one was convinced this was over and Alcina agreed. Dmitri and Sylvia kept several outposts active and would continue to do so for as long as they deemed fit.

The deceased mutated vampire lay in the bin hollowing out with nothing more of interest to study it seemed. No bugs, no worms, nothing exited his body to help Joel in his quest to understand him. His tests came up with very little information outside of a strange anomaly in the dead blood he'd collected, however it was nothing he had seen and without a live sample of possibly another mutated specimen he was hitting a dead end as well. How could he research a dead, dying crumb of evidence? Oddly though, when they put his body out to disintegrate in the sun, he didn't crumble to pure ash as he should have. His bones remained slightly in tact, which Joel collected to see if that could lead him anywhere instead.

Mother Miranda had finally been reached; she had indeed been on travel to Romania which is where Donna was finally able to speak with her. Her reaction was... limited at best. Unconcerned and satisfied they had it under control. Donna was unamused by her stance and Alcina couldn't have scoffed harder at her dismissal. She was nothing if not flippant unless it directly concerned her these days. She could rot in hell or Romania for all Alcina cared.

The suspiciousness of the ordeal had everyone who was aware remaining on high alert. This was far from over and neither clan was backing down from their posts to make sure whatever, if ever, something came next, they'd be more than prepared.

Thankfully no word had seeped into the underground and everything was carrying on as normal it seemed.

Alcina had returned home yesterday and was getting ready for a good nights rest in her own bed where it was quiet, and private.

Well, a little.

Donning her nightgown she clicked off the light to her bathroom and exited.

"Ai dormit pe partea asta aseară, e rândul meu," Daniela stated flatly. (You slept on this side last night, it's my turn)

"Conteaza? Încă dormi lângă mama," Cassandra replied, "sunt două laturi, poate s-o lase pe Bela să doarmă lângă ea în seara asta.." (Does it matter? You're still sleeping next to mother, there's two sides, maybe let Bela sleep next to her tonight.)

Bela sighed as she situated at the end of the very large king size bed, "e în regulă, sunt bine aici jos. Atâta timp cât suntem cu toții împreună, nu-mi pasă." (It's fine, I'm fine down here. As long as we're all together I don't care.)

"Dani este doar un nebun, vino să dormi aici." (Dani is just being a brat, you come sleep up here.)

"Nu sunt un nebun!" (I'm not being a brat!)

"Fetelor..." Alcina intervened as she approached softly, "într-adevăr acum, am destul pat și timp și cu mine să merg. Vă rugăm să încetați să vă certați." (Girls... really now, there's plenty of bed and time and me to go around. Please stop bickering.)

They smiled at her as she began crawling under the covers with them, nestling down with a smile of her own.

When Alcina returned home she hadn't had a moments peace since she walked through the door. Her daughters had warm blood waiting for her, not the wine, and tended to her every unspoken need. Which, they apparently seemed to make for her by the dozens. Donna had of course informed them of her attack and they were more fretful than she at the news. It was only expected they would be exceptionally doting to their beloved mother when she arrived home. They had nearly lost her once, many many years ago and the memories were still fresh and vivid in their hearts. The bond the 4 of them shared was deeply rooted and strong; Alcina may not be their biological mother in the human sense, but she was their rock and anchor, their protector and very much the loving, nurturing, caring and doting mother figure. While the girls were quite old as far as human standards go, somehow deep inside of them was still a childlike need and fondness with Alcina.

Cassandra had run her a bath, Bela washed the clothes Dani had packed and sent with Dmitri for her, Dani continued to bring warm blood on the hour and while the house was never truly a mess, it was spotless. Spot. Less. Alcina couldn't help but grin at their attentiveness. She jested perhaps she should get wounded more often... they didn't find it humorous in the least.

"Acum, fiicele mele... noapte bună, vă iubesc, dormiți bine," she cooed, caressing their beautiful faces one by one. (Now, my daughters... goodnight, I love you, sleep well.)

Exchanging kisses to the cheek they settled in, snuggling close to their mother as the silence of the room seeped in.

Cassandra, now on the right side of Alcina, caressed her arm softly, "esti bine mama?" (You're alright, mother?)

Alcina smiled, "da, draga. Dormi. Sunt acasă, în siguranță cu fetele mele. Totul este în regulă în lume," she whispered and kissed her forehead once more. (Yes, darling. Sleep. I'm home, safe and sound with my girls. All is right in the world.)

She felt complete. 

Almost.

She missed you. She needed you.

Tomorrow she would venture out to see you. She couldn't stand the distance from you any longer.

-

"More goodies for the pests, ey?"

You gave Malka a raised eyebrow as she scanned the bag of mixed nuts and dried berries.

"Those pests were here waaay before us, it's not their fault we moved in on their territory."

Malka broke her stern visage and smiled brightly at you, "yes yes, good good, you have a Yiddishe Kop my girl."

Malka was an old Jewish woman who ran and owned the tiny corner store a couple blocks from your apartment. It was your favorite place to get groceries and oddities. The produce was always fresh and she was constantly stocking the shelves with fun, niche little snacks from all over Europe and her home in the Netherlands. She'd adopted you as the neighborhood stray long ago and you happily claimed her as your long lost Bubbeh - her chosen term. She was small but a pure spitfire. Her hair was long and white with fading pepper streaks that she wore in a braided bun high on her head. Malka was a darling.

"I still think you should ween them off the dried fruit and give them fresh - it's good for the soul, you know," she advised knowingly.

You chuckled, "they like what they like, who am I to argue? Getting them off the pastries was hard enough!"

She placed the last of your things in your tweed bag and handed it over to you, "my pastries were the cause of several village wars, I'll have you know."

"Yes, yes, I know Sophia Petrillo. I doubt I'll ever see another twenty dropped on my doorstep until I treat them again."

"Ahaha," she cackled, "off with you now, enjoy your evening and give my best to the birds. Tell them Bubbeh wants a twenty dollar bill too next time."

By the time you made it to your block you caught their shadows overhead as they swarmed and landed in the trees in the courtyard. You smiled and treaded around back to the grass and benches on the other side. They followed with happy caws and grunts and coos.

You sat on the bench and watched them gracefully land at your feet as you opened the bag and began divvying out the goods.

You still couldn't tell them all apart yet but there was a considerably bigger one and a runt that stuck out the most. The smallest was easily the most vocal and it was skittish. The biggest one was very regal but had a playful side, you'd noticed. He, or she, would play with the baby squirrels in the neighboring tree, almost a game of tag, it was quite amusing to watch.

The gathering usually gave you odd looks from the passerby's but you got used to ignoring it. So you had a tiny army of crows, so what? 

Without giving away the whole bag you watched them trek around the grounds for a while enjoying the falling evening. It was getting a little cooler now, autumn was around the corner. Every season in New York was pretty, except winter. Winter could fuck all the way off in your opinion. 

You sighed. As the darkness shifted the hue in the sky your heart silently wished upon the universe that your Alcina was safe and would be back in your arms before too long. 9 days was a really, really long time at this point.

~

There was no way to accurately describe the sensation that coated you like warm molasses; it was slow in enveloping you and you became light headed, a fuzzy heat trickled through your system and your limbs felt numb and tingly. A smile erupted on your face and you instantly knew this feeling.

In a split second you were off your couch and headed for your room.

There creeping through your doorway was that tall black silhouette you longed and craved to see and touch for 9 too long goddamn days.

"Alcina," you whimpered as you ran to her and collected her in your arms.

She sighed long and heavy as her own strong arms enfolded you with haste. Your scent wafted through her sweeter than a summer breeze offering reprieve from the hot sun and she drove her nose deep in your hair.

"Oh... how I've missed you, draga mea," she whispered near your ear, feeling her own relief and satiation of having you back within her grasp, "I have missed you so much."

"I've missed you so much," your muffled reply came as you slowly inched your face around to claim her lips.

The two of you moaned softly and satisfyingly at the connection. Yes. This felt like home, this felt too good to be lost for so long.

Alcina carefully grasped your face in her cool hands, which you noticed were slightly trembling, and you looked deep into her stumbling slate colored eyes. Pools of ethereal eternity. Somewhere you wanted to be for the rest of your days.

"Hi beautiful," you smiled.

"Hello, dragul meu," she smiled right back.

You snaked your arms back around her torso and clung to her like she might slip away again. Not today Satan, not to-fucking-day.

Although, there was something amiss. Something not quite right. You weren't completely sure what it was but somehow your hands began to pull higher up her back where you found, under her leather jacket, an unnatural heat. And raised ridges of... something.

Alcina hitched as your hands splayed over her wounds and grabbed for your arms and pulled you away. The concern and confusion was not hidden on your face and she sighed, forced a smile and hoped there could have been at least an hour pass before this came to light.

Feeling the hesitation peel off her like layers of a wilted rose you stepped in a little closer to her, taking her hands in yours.

You could throw the thoughts of her absence dealing with something dangerous out the window all you'd like; they would return like a handful of sand to the wind and back in your eyes every time. You knew. You knew.

With a short breath you swallowed your worry, "I know you can't tell me everything, or maybe anything at all for that matter, but... what did I just feel?"

Exasperation was now the most common emotion she was friends with these days. Alcina didn't know how to tell you. It wasn't as if she could hide this forever. But she wanted to. Her healing was so slow - they should be gone by now, but they weren't, and she didn't want to be away from you any longer. Somehow this made her feel too vulnerable to you, a desperation to keep it locked away and never let you into this dark corner of her world.

"Draga..." she started, tossing her eyes away from you.

This was not something you would receive well, in fact she feared for how it would affect you period. How was she supposed to just brush this off as a; 'well, you see draga mea, I was attacked by a mutated vampire that nearly killed me and more lycans than I care to count, that may or may not have many other mates running loose that we can't find, and truly that's just where the story ends for the moment,' and expect you to have a normal reaction. And, at the same time, how could she just say; 'I can't tell you what happened and I'm sorry you have to look at these scars that looks like I fought 8 meet hooks, you'll just have to accept that,' and move on.

Alcina's pause made you lean in closer. You understood the barrage of thoughts you couldn't hear her fighting all too well, so, softly and carefully, you began to remove her jacket and moved to her tight black turtleneck.

Her body immediately tensed and an anxiousness wrapped around her, but what was she to do. 

Well, here we go, Alcina thought.

She allowed you to continue and it actually surprised you. You half expected her to grab for your arms again and immobilize your efforts, but she didn't.

As you stood behind her and lifted the soft cloth, the sight that assaulted your eyes sunk your heart to the pits of your stomach like a deflated lead balloon.

Did you gasp? No clue. But you felt ice shoot through your veins at the sight.

"My god..." you whispered, "Alcina... what - who did this to you?"

Your fingers were so gentle as they passed over the raised dark purple scars Alcina almost buckled. The caress didn't hurt but it felt like little sparks of electricity passing through her. Somehow your touch was the most soothing thing she'd felt so far in her healing, or, maybe, she was just starving for your touch more than she had been aware.

As your eyes wandered you could now see in the dim light that there were fully healed scars all over her. All in swipes of 4, like sets of claws. Eventually you just removed the turtleneck all together and rounded her to look back into her eyes. She wasn't completely dodging your glance, but she wasn't seeking it out either.

You tried to choke out more questions as you softly trailed your fingers over her arms, chest, and abdomen. What was there to say, how were you to say it? Suddenly another rushing wave of icy water pelted over you as the memories of that night you had your little 'muscle attack' just about drowned you. 

Did you feel this happen to her? 

Who or what could have done this? Was the war between vampires and lycans returning?

Your visage torqued the twinge in Alcina's heart. You were so concerned, plighted by a tied tongue. But also, something else. Alcina gently reached out to cup your jaw and offer a soft smile. Truth be told she didn't know what to say either. She didn't want to answer your question. 

In your short lived elation to see her you were unable to address the tiredness about her, but now you saw it loud and clear. Her eyes lacked the sparkle of light, her skin looked worn, her lips, thinner, her trembling hands alone should have told you how lacking her energy was.

Taking her beautiful long fingers to your lips you kissed them gently, repeatedly, locking her eyes with yours as you then began to move your hair away from your neck.

Alcina grabbed you up in her arms and held you, "dragul meu, please, I didn't come here to feed off you -"

"I know you didn't but you're depleted, I can tell," you shut down her argument softly, "please, drink," you urged, "I don't like seeing you like this. Please... I want you to."

She didn't budge.

Stubborn ass.

Accepting her refusal you secured your arms even more tightly around her bare torso and held her back. She may have won for now but you would give her your blood before she left, you wouldn't have it any other way. Softly you began pressing your warm lips against her bare collarbone and kissing her cool skin with revered tenderness.

Alcina closed her eyes and leaned into you, feeling you against her seemed to bring down all the pillars of worry and concern around her. But you, your offer, it panged her with guilt and remorse.

Pressing her lips to the shell of your ear she whispered softly, "you are not for my consumption, draga mea, you are more to me than what I think you realize and it pains me to think if I have lead you astray in that... you are not for the taking, for use, for simply delectable taste and pleasure. I love you, I never want you to feel less than my equal, for all sense and purpose of our differences."

You sighed.

"You big dummy," you muttered, pulling back to look into her eyes once more, "I love you too, I love you so much... you're my vampire and I'm your human; I belong to you because I want to. I'm not offering my blood out of - fuck, I don't know - pressure, duty, some form of guilt - no! I love you, I want you to feed because I want to take care of you, because I don't want to see you drained and weak, because your wellbeing is not only my job as your lover but my honor. You're a mighty Matriarch. You fight battles and command armies and rule over a literal underground city of vampires and lycans. I am a chaotic, dysfunctional, boring as fuck but loving human who was just lucky enough to be chosen by you - I can't offer you much, literally, I have like nothing of real value... but you've got my love, my dedication, my heart and blood and whatever else you want or need, ok?"

What have I done to deserve you? Alcina mused in the silence. You were the unintended enigma that was never-ending.

Carefully tracing her fingertips along the outlines of your face, Alcina leaned in gracefully to kiss you. Each caress of your lips together grew a little deeper and a little deeper, everything outside of this room ceasing to exist as she was once again back in the safest place she could ever imagine. Your arms. Your embrace. Your love.

Feeling the inevitable plume of heat deep inside of you, gorging yourself on everything that was this glorious woman, you urged and silently begged for her bite; pressing your body so close into hers, pulling her as near as possible, arching your neck as your lips escaped to graze her jawline. And then you felt the shudder within her; the release of the tiger that was prowling for blood with no need to chase.

Her teeth were sharp and precise and the painful pleasure coursed through you like your blood into her. Bliss, euphoric release; a chaotic intertwining of black and white, up and down, hot and cold.

As the sensation of heat poured down her throat, Alcina groaned out her long-awaited desire to taste you again. Your blood fed fuel to her fire like nothing else in this world, but within the rush this time something else was taking place. Her body began to burn. Her senses thrown into a frenzy. The striking, piercing sensation of an itch so violently unable to scratch tore through her and she ripped her mouth away from your neck with a pained wail.

Alcina's knees buckled and she fell to the floor with a thud.

[basicbunnyboo]

The Star of The Show.

A multific (Vox x OC)

Chapter 1

A.N. This is my first published work, so please let me know if anything should be changed. Thank you for reading and I am so excited to start writing this! I hope you enjoy this as much as I do.

Warnings - This is set in Hell and will go over less than savory topics. Swearing and toxic relationships, along with violence in later chapters, will be present. If you are uncomfortable with any of these, please keep scrolling and read a more pleasant post.

As usual, the tower was filled with the shouts of Val and Vox. Ever the lovers.

“Val, I’ve told you twice now that-”

“And I’ve told you that I don’t care. They’re my sluts, Vox. If you wanted to control how I do it, then you should have taken me up on my offer.”

Vox rolled his eyes, “Yes, yes, your shitty offer. I’m not stupid.”

Velvette wanted to shoot one of them. Or both.

Both is good.

“But amore, you just-”

"Quit calling me ‘amore’, Val. I’m not one of your whores. If you want to fuck a hole go get your precious Angel Dust,” Vox strided over to the elevator, not wanting to listen to the prissy prince anymore.

Valentino scoffed, “If you’re jealous I could show you just how much you-”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Hell was just as expected. Hot, humid, polluted, and crappy.

Really fucking crappy.

The tall buildings that would normally remind him of his old life made him feel trapped. And in a way, he was. Trapped here due to some… not so moral decisions. Not that he really cared. But being stuck in a not so good deal with Valentino and Velvette was rather annoying. Velvette kept to herself. She handled her department and kept her outbursts to herself. Valentino, however, was an egocentric, prissy, idiotic, pathetic whore that he made the mistake of conversing with.

But his biggest mistake was letting something foster between them. He knew that he was in it for the sex. And so was he. But it was stale. He was sick of it, but every time he tried to break it off, Valentino would use guilt trip him into ‘one more night’.

Hell, he was pathetic.

The hinges nearly broke as he, yet again, threw the studio door open. He wasn’t even mad at Valentino, for that at least, anymore. He was pissed at himself. He’s Vox. He has his own technological empire.

But there wasn’t anyone else, and Val was easy. Mundane and repetative, but it was familiar.

He liked familiar.

The chime of his monitors getting online was familiar. The lines of numbers and letters was familiar. The stupid picture in the corner of the three of them when they first started was familiar.

What wasn’t familiar was his old club. What was it called again?

Luminex.

When did that shithole get so popular? He scrolled up and it nearly doubled it’s profits last month. Probably some asshole fucking with him.

He groaned as he got up, looking through the rest of the numbers in the background as he started walking to that stupid old club.

When was the last time he walked somewhere?

It’s been a while. It wasn’t that bad. He could see his face nearly everywhere. Nice little ego boost. Especially after that asshole Val ruined his day.

He just needed to let this go. They’ll talk it out later.

Maybe.

The club had that old ‘20s feel. The large neon sign with glass doors. A blue and black theme, Velvette’s little joke to him. He regrets letting her design it. He could care less about this place, but, of course, they decided it would be funny to fuck with his numbers.

For being 1920’s theme, the building itself was very modern. Thank fuck for that. The glass doors slide open as he walked up adn looked around. There was a fuck ton of people. Weird. Maybe they had a porn show or something. Something he specifically told them not to do.

But as he walked through the crowd, some too drunk to recognize him and others sober enough to give a wide berth, he saw that it was just some singer.

She worked there, that much was clear. A digital mask and the uniform. It looked weird. Too colorful and shiny. He’d have to talk to the manager for letting this bitch think-

Fuck.

He heard of people who were like sirens and shit, but he never heard them before. No wonder this club was full. This bitch could sing. And well.

He sighed as he sat at the bar, watching. It was like one of those… what was it called? A cabaret? One of those little song and dance things.

Lily. Apparently that was her name. Stage name, he guessed. Some slug demon tried to throw his jacket up, only for some other shark demon to catch it. And him.

He rolled his eyes at how pathetic some demons were. Even at his lowest he never stooped that low.

He cringed at the thought of Val. Okay… maybe he’s not that above, but still.

He only planned to stay for a song. Just a simple song. Not her whole damn performance. He’ll blame it on the siren shit.

“Thank you for listening, you’ve been a,” she stepped to the side as someone threw another shirt, “wonderful audience.” She left through the curtains, avoiding the more unkept attendees.

She kept a smile that entire performance and made eye contact with the audience. He had to admit, she knew how to do crowd service. Not bad to look at. Maybe she wouldn’t be that bad of an addition if he-

"Mr. Vox, pleasure to see you here,” that same voice came from behind him.

He put on his smile, matching her own, “Ah, well, I heard this little club got popular overnight. I wanted to see why.” He sure did. She was taller than he expected. Nearly as tall as him. Brown, pinned up hair with a fade to red. Her face was covered by the digital mask the staff wore.

A slight tilt of her head and a small smirk appeared on the screen, “Well, was my performance to your liking?” He could’ve sworn he heard her before.

“Well,” he let out a short laugh. He wouldn’t admit that he was rather amazed by her, “It explains the rise in popularity.” That smirk grew into a smile, she knew. Damn it.

“I’m glad,” she toyed with a glass that the bartender passed, “I must say, I was rather surprised to see you here.”

“Well, it is my club.”

She laughed softly. Who the hell laughs like that in a place like here?

“I know, but seeing how busy you must be with VoxTek, I'm amazed you have the time to-”

His watch lit up, showing what Vox assumed was the result of another Val tantrum.

“Vox, you better get your bloody ass over here and calm ‘his majesty’ down.”

He sighed, getting up from his seat, “My apologies. Seems like I’m needed elsewhere.”

She looked a bit disappointed. Well, as much as the mask showed. “No need. I do hope you’ll come back another time so we could finish our conversation, though.”

He smiled, “I’m sure we will.”

The tower was a mess. Again.

“What the fuck took you so long? He ruined my manager. You better calm him the fuck down or I’ll go over there and turn his wings into my next winter coat.”

He forced a smile, “Yes, yes. What has him upset today?”

Velvette rolled her eyes, looking over a fabric, “Hell if I know, just calm him down.”

Helpful as always.

He tuned into the cameras in Val’s studio, seeing that he was fuming in his room, “Right, well, fine.”

Fine. When was it ever fine? Valentino seemed to have an episode every other day and it messed with his and Velvette’s studios. Then he had to come him and stop him from destroying anything else. Again. And again.

It was monotonous by now.

He sighed, putting on a smile as he entered the room, “Val! What seems to have you out-”

“Angel Dust spoke to me!”

Him again?

“Well, what did he say?” It felt like talking to a toddler.

“He said something about not giving a shit about me. Me! I made him! The only reason people know him is because of me! The ungrateful slut!”

He continued his little rant.

Normally he’d be happy to get rid of Angel. He’d have more of Val to himself. But now that idea seemed… lackluster.

“I swear to fucking god I'm going to kill everyone in that shitty hotel. I just know it was Lucifer’s bratty daughter-”

“Val,” he grabbed his face, a bit harsher than usual, “calm down. You have him under contract, how many times do I need to tell you?”

“But he-”

“But no, put your gun away and get back to your studio.”

There was a tense silence, but seeing as Valentino didn't want to get an already pissy Vox mad, he huffed as he stood up straight, “Fucking fine.”

“Thank you.”

Val smiled as he bent over to lift Vox’s chin, only for him to walk off, “Oh, come on! Don't tell me you’re still pissed about earlier. I told you-”

Silence. That’s all he wanted. Of course, with three emotionally volatile Overlords in close proximity, silence was a are thing to find.

“Vox, what the hell did you say to Val? He’s moping in his studio.”

“Nothing I haven’t said before.” He was scrolling through his phone while on the couch, looking over the recent sales.

Velvette was good at reading people. That was part of the reason why Vox chose her to be a part of the Vee’s. The only thing was that she saw past all of the bullshit smiles he put on, which was really fucking annoying.

“Where did you go? You weren’t in your studio or even in the tower.”

“Nowhere.”

Velvette gave him a look, causing him to sigh. “Nowhere important, just that old club you made for me.”

She laughed, “Luminex? That shit’s still running?”

“Yeah. It’s popular, even.”

“Popular? You mean it has more than 5 people or something?”

“Popular as in it was full.”

She was waiting for him to laugh it off and say he was joking. That shitty little club that she made as a joke was popular?

“How?”

“Lily.”

She paused. Lily? Who the hell was that? And why did he sound so…

“She’s the latest attraction. Some siren demon. She even changed up your design for the uniforms.”

That caught her interest, “My design? That was some shit that Fare pulled out her arse. That’s nothing like-”

“She was good.”

Still on about that Lily person?

“Oh? What, you want to shag her or some shit?”

“No.” Yes? No. He didn’t know, “But, I was thinking about bringing her to another club.”

Oh… he was being stupid again, “So you do want to fuck her.”

Vox glared at her, making her pause.

Oh shit.

She had a shit-eating grin, “Don’t tell me you have a little crush on her. That’s bloody adorable! Never took you as the type.”

“Velvette.”

“Was she hot?”

“Velvette.”

“She was definitely hot, wasn’t she? Oh, shit, did you talk to her?”

A small flinch as he looked even more annoyed.

That pulled a laugh from her, “Holy fuck, you did! Big bad overlord Vox fancies a siren chick. That’s bloody hilarious.”

“Was he as hot in real life?”

She laughed at Clara’s antics.

“Yeah, actually. His voice, especially.”

Odette rolled her eyes as she looked over the shipments for tomorrow, “Vera, seriously? He’s an overlord.”

Clara gave her a look, making her sigh, “I mean, he thinks your a normal sinner. He probably just wants some entertainment.”

“You mean he wants to fuck.”

“Clara.”

“That's my name, yes.”

Vera smiled at the two. They might not technically be her sisters, but it felt like it.

“Look, I’m just saying,” Odette took off her glasses, “you can’t expect anything good to come from this. He’s a part of the Vee’s. Nothing good comes from them.”

“But the sex would be good.”

“Clara!”

She shrugged, smiling, “What? I bet he could make it vibra-”

“Okay,” Vera stood up, laughing a bit to herself, “Let's just go to bed, alright? Don't want to get off schedule, right Odette?”

Clara snickered.

“Is it so wrong to have a sleep schedule?”

“And a meal schedule, and a day schedule, and a noon schedule, and a-”

“I get it, Clara.”

“A night schedule, a dress schedule, a-”

“Good night, Clara.”

[fereldanwench]

Totally agree with you on that. I'm just barely a millennial, being born at the end of the 80s, but I much more identify with gen X than I do my fellow millennials. There was a point when I got sick of people referring to me as a millennial, but now gen Z'ers and alphas call me a boomer and I honestly don't know which annoys me more lol.

I find a lot of the generational bickering, especially online, to be absolutely obnoxious, tbh. 😅 So much of it is cyclical--There have been and probably always will be old people whining about The Youth and vice versa. Anyone middle-aged or older is out of touch and regressive; anyone under 30 is self-absorbed and lazy. It's all the same shit, just repackaged with new lingo and new things to be pissy about.

And then any actual valid concerns, like the detrimental influence of social media on young minds or how younger people are continually losing access to the same resources/support systems as previous generations, get pushed to the side in favor of petty squabbling. It's exhausting.

Plus the generation cutoffs are so nebulous in some areas that the divides can get really confusing, not to mention for a while it seemed like the general public discourse acted like there were only two generations: Boomers and Millennials. A lot of the stereotypes directed at Boomers and Millennials would be more "accurately" directed at Gen Xers and Zoomers as well.

But with my experiences specifically: I'm a late-80s baby who was born to two working-class/lower middle-class Boomer-Gen Xer cuspers who were very pop culture savvy during the 70s-90s and not particularly quick to embrace the technology of the early 00s and onwards.

I grew up with a lot of 70s-80s media, didn't have access to cable until I was 10, didn't have access to a home computer until I was 13, was always at least one generation behind in the video game console wars, didn't have a cell phone until college, was a latchkey kid starting in elementary school--My childhood actually looks a lot more like my husband's, who was born in the early 80s and sits in the Millennial/Gen Xer cusp, than it does a lot of other people my age. (At least amongst my peers where I live and work--Like I remember all my friends in high school having a cell phone, and my parents were always like what do you need a fucking cell phone for, you have a phone at home, lmao.)

But I do very much feel like an average Millennial in how every major milestone in my life seems to coincide with some kind of major catastrophe that is making it incredibly difficult for me to have a comfortable fucking life. Like graduating college in the middle of the recession in 2009 or being ready to advance/shift my career right as the pandemic started.

And of course, the thing about trying to shoehorn people into little categories to neatly describe how their major life experiences coincide with major events is that it's not gotta fit for most people. Everyone's life is full of unique circumstances, and I feel like things like family wealth, for instance, will also play a huge role in whether or not someone experiences certain generational markers. I certainly had a very different childhood from Millennials who grew up where money wasn't a regular family stressor.

Anyway, lmao. 😅 This kind of turned into a rambling rant, but yeah. Generation discourse always gets me a little heated, I guess. We now resumed your regularly scheduled fangirling posts, haha.

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 30 - Bridal Carry

Scogan Bingo challenge Image Prompt (see below)

Image Prompt

*******************************************************************************

"Okay, just what did you two infants get up to this ti…" Hank paused his annoyed rant before it could even really begin, gasping at the expression of utter dread bordering almost on panic on Logan's face. Jumping up from where he'd lazily turned around with his office chair in a flash, he hectically nodded towards the next best stretcher. "Down. Now. Christ, Logan, how often did I tell you not to move a patient when it can be avoided? Whatever happened this time, if he's got any …"

"No fractures," Logan got out in a choked tone betraying how arduously he held on to the last of his self-control after that terrible accident in the Danger Room of which he still had no fucking idea how it had even happened. Already, he couldn’t even remember how he'd managed to hastily carry Scott the few steps from the training center door to the sick bay in his arms without losing himself to rage at himself. "Would have heard that. You got the same damn enhanced senses as me, King Kong, you know I would have. I have no idea why he's out." As carefully as possible anyway, precisely because he was clueless about what had gone so wrong in Scott's and his harmless sparring session in the simulated deserted woods of Canada, he put his partner down. Kneeling beside the bed, with clenched fists, in the small bit of distance that he knew from experience Hank needed to work, he gritted his teeth as another wave of anger on himself and helplessness hit. Of fear that everything Scott and him had been building up with so much pain, grief, uncertainty in the year since Jean's death, after realizing their emotions were just as strong for each other as for the woman they'd both loved, was about to end. Just like that. And not in a damn battle against the Brotherhood, against Weapon X, or any of these other insane fuckers out there like either of them had to expect it every time they put their damn uniforms on. But because apparently, without even realizing it, Logan hadn’t been careful enough. Hadn’t had his stronger, more massive body under control in their hand-to-hand, making some kind of wrong move … But what, for fuck's sake? "He didn’t even hit his head, Hank. I just threw him to the ground. Into a damn bush. Idiot even landed softly. And then he suddenly didn’t get up anymore."

"Breathe." Apparently realizing Logan was beating himself up enough already, Hank stopped by him on his way to retrieve all kinds of devices from the highly modern equipped examination center, to rest one of his fur-covered hands on his shoulder which gave Logan at least the assurance that Scott wasn’t in acute danger, or their in-house surgeon wouldn’t even have paused for that little moment. "Shi’ar basic scan says, life signs are pretty stable. Maybe he's just been asking too much of himself once more, and his system went on a break for him. It's happened before in phases of too little sleep and recreation. Whatever it is, we'll repair it." Hank threw Logan an encouraging smile, already having hurried back to the stretcher, before turning to the monitors of the scanner hovering over Scott's body again. His upper lip drew back behind his fangs in thoughtfulness as he swiped over whatever data the alien technology spitted out, shaking his head a couple of times. "Inconclusive. There seems to be a neurological problem indeed, but except for being out cold, he's not having matching symptoms. Gonna put him in a tube. That will take a few minutes. You wanna take that outside in the meantime?" Hank pointedly stared at the still-unlit cigar in Logan's hand. "And while you're at it, go shower and redress. You know how much I hate these rooms not being sterile. I'll call you as soon as I know anything."

While Logan wasn’t willing to leave this damn floor behind where he might just have made one of the biggest fuck-ups of his life, he knew his own uncontrolled temper well enough to fear, he'd lose it sooner or later if he didn’t get a couple of puffs and half a drink into him right now. And showering the worst of his agitation away ice-cold, about something that might not even happen in the end, probably wasn’t the worst idea. So he pushed himself up with a reluctant snarl and hurried toward the door, after giving the far too whitish, unmoving features of his partner another worried glance. He obviously couldn’t communicate with Scott in the way his deceased partner or Charles could and usually didn’t care a lot for mental gifts anyway. But right now, he wished nothing more than to be able to get through at least one fearful sentence to Scott's clouded mind, nothing short of a desperate plea. Logan had no idea what would become of him if so shortly after Alkali Lake, he would have to deal with losing someone he loved again. Please be alright.

*******

"The good news is, it's not Logan's fault." Hank regarded Logan with another of these amicable glances over his small glasses, crossing his legs to rest his datapad with a certain patient file opened on his knee. "Technically, it's mine. I should have forced Scott into the sickbay at gunpoint after that HYDRA brawl last week. I'd only seen his fall from some truck from the corner of my eyes and didn’t realize how badly he must have hit his head. And knowing that stubborn idiot, Scott probably made sure, no one noticed he must have had splitting headaches and nausea ever since then, so I wouldn’t get the perverted idea of declaring him unfit for action. On a side note, we should maybe think about how to solve our understaffing problem if you don't want that to happen again all over."

That went in the direction of Charles who'd come to the examination room together with Ororo by now, staring at the still motionless figure of his favorite pupil ceaselessly. At Hank's last sentence, his unusually hunched posture deflated even more, a tired rubbing over his eyes indicating, this wasn’t a problem exactly new to him. He'd just not dedicated energy to it like he would have in the past, still caught in his own depression and regrets after Alkali Lake. "It's not like I haven’t been trying, Henry. I'll get right back to seeing if one of our old partners is willing to help us out, at least until some of the teenagers will be ready to take over more responsibilities in this house."

Satisfied with that assurance for now, Hank hurried to get back to the actual subject, not least because of Logan's impatient gesture from the hand not firmly holding Scott's. "Alas, you can only ignore a blood clot for so long. Actually, I would go as far as saying, you saved his life with that shoulder throw, Logan. If that thing in his head would have started moving on its own, possibly in his sleep, you could have woken up to a corpse. Now that I know, I can take care of this," he quickly added, with emphasis on a calming tone in his sonorous voice when Ororo gasped, holding on to the back of Charles' wheelchair. "That clip around his forehead stops the wandering, and the Shi’ar automated med system is already preparing everything for surgery next door. Thanks to the tools our alien friends have equipped us with in the course of the decades, I don't even need to cut and drill him open. It's a minimal procedure; with any luck, he'll be complaining about bed rest by tonight, Logan." Another brief grin curled on Hank's bulging lips as he looked at Logan standing so close to that stretcher, never once letting go of his partner, but this time, there was a nervous quality to it. "That's not why I called you all here. I mean, for the sake of full disclosure, I do need to warn you, of course, that residual risks are not inconsiderate whenever brain tissue is involved. I'm 95 % sure that I can just aspirate the clot and that will be it, but the excess fluid makes it hard to tell if there's possible damage from the crash from that car below." He pointed one of the x-rays on the brightly lit neon wall showing images of his patient's brain the kind of which Logan wasn’t seeing for the first time. Which made it all the more frightening, spotting something dark that definitely didn’t belong on the prefrontal cortex. "That's very unlikely, though; we would have noticed. One thing I will say is, it might not be chance this happened, or that this location in particular is affected."

"You're talking about his headaches." Ororo stepped closer to the image with crossed arms, her skin showing a suspicious greyish tone as she regarded the dangerous lump with narrow eyes.

"Mind filling me in?" Logan growled when Hank nodded tensely and Charles's grey eyes, too, suddenly went wide as they turned Scott's way, his hand clenching around his chair's armrest.

"This is the part of the brain responsible for mutation control," Charles answered before Hank could, something almost like … hope in his voice. "Forced to shut his optic blasts down from the beginning, Scott has always suffered from constant minor headaches with the occasional extreme spike. Since Jean's death, the number of excruciating migraine attacks has been increasing. He didn’t tell anyone, Logan," Charles sighed, seeing the self-reproaches immediately return to Logan's expression, about not having noticed anything. "You know how he gets. Me, I only saw it in his mind, and he almost blackmailed Ororo into staying quiet when he fainted in a sparring session with her once. He didn’t want you to worry. I thought it was just the grief but …"

"But it might be a lot more," Hank barged in, getting visibly excited, one of his claws scraping over the clean PVC ground in a nerve-wracking scrunching noise. "If the emotional impact of Jean's death strengthened his gift, it's possible his brain went into full defense mode, finally repairing the damage from that plane crash when Scott was twelve. It's been known to happen before. Mutations don’t like to be curbed in. Often, they find a way. After all this time, we'd thought, Scott was one of the unlucky cases, but if we're right about this … Then there's possible excess matter from that old scarring in there which explains the blood clot. All the more a reason to get our young Captain in my surgery immediately." Finally getting impatient about so much theory while his patient was technically still in a life-threatening situation, Hank jumped up from his chair and pulled on a white coat over his usual reduced clothing, checking on his datapad if said preparations next door were complete.

"If this is true, Hank …" Some of the fear of possibly losing a close friend had slipped off Ororo's thin shoulders as well, the hint of a smile tugging on her full lips that had become rare since they'd all lost a beloved team member. "Does it mean what I think it means?"

"Let's not get our hopes up too quickly," Hank warned her, typing more commands into his procedure control program. "Until I removed that clot, I'm fishing in the dark about what is below. Everything might be exactly like it was when he wakes up." When he looked up from his work again though, there was a mildly confident grin on Hank's lips, too. "Or Scott might not need his glasses ever again. We'll have to see. Now get out of here, the lot of you. I got work to do."

A second time today, Logan had to make himself leave the sickbay reluctantly, with his hands deeply buried in his pocket, his shoulders tight. At least for him, the fear that something could go wrong in such a dangerous surgery was far more unsettling than some possible positive surprises. But when Ororo hugged him in the hallway, a bright glistening in her child-like dark eyes, he thought it couldn’t hurt at least, attaching a bonus item to the wish he was silently, secretly sending in his mind to whoever might possibly be out there responsible for the fate of them all. A drink somewhere in a quiet corner of the garden actually sounded like heaven right now.

*******

Scott did complain, of course, he did. Knowing this lovable bastard inside out by now, Logan would have been more concerned if he hadn’t. But Scott was also entirely pain-free, at peace with his mutation and the happiest Logan had ever seen him since Alkali Lake, and that counted a lot more as far as he was concerned.

Therefore, he put up with all nagging about allegedly entirely unnecessary doctor's orders with a patient smile, about the kids falling behind on a curriculum that was notoriously too ambitious in Scott's classes anyway, and about Scott's body going out of shape from not beating himself up in the gym or Danger Room every day for a whole week. When Scott was done with one of his rants, Logan either shut him up with one of his favorite meals or a kiss, and that worked surprisingly well. Just like the promise of a little surprise on their upcoming anniversary weekend. Which Logan suspected, Scott only allowed himself to get excited about because it would mean, Hank would finally release him from the sick bay after a whole series of tests, scans, and nonstop drips to counter all the drugs that the complicated procedure had made necessary, and even more tests. Finally, more or less allowed, Logan sneaked his partner out of the cellar on a late Saturday afternoon, pushing the elevator button that would take them right to the Mutant's High roof, much to Scott's visible confusion. When they stepped out the door seconds later, they did it to the beautiful orange that was the sun slowly starting to set.

These enchanting sky-blue eyes going back and forth between the color phenomenon in the distance and the deckchairs Logan had prepared by the low wall, where the view of the woods behind the mansion was the best, Scott was visibly looking for words in vain. When his luscious lips finally opened, they did it only to capture Logan's in a kiss, the faint fragrance of salt in the air from stubbornly suppressed tears only growing stronger.

Logan was nice enough not to mention it and reluctantly backed away because that was for later. Right now, they had something more important to do. Silently pulling Scott with him, they got comfortable on the chairs still without a word of which none were needed right now. Logan poured them a drink from the expensive bottle he'd left on a table between the chairs along with two glasses and a bowl of sweets and fruit before turning his attention to the sunset for a while. Which on his part was mostly an excuse, of course, to watch his lover from the corner of his eyes who was hardly touching his glass, occasionally blinking away another tear or two his gaze glued to the slowly darkening sky in the distance.

The news hadn’t come entirely without issues for Scott, originally. He was still struggling with the fear that this condition might not last in spite of Hank's opposite reassurances, and he had yet to start actually trying out how to activate and adjust his blasts at will which would be a matter of weeks in the Danger Room, no doubt. But at this moment, free of the prisons of his quartz shields and drinking in something so natural for most people, as he hadn’t been allowed to do in more than 20 years, that amazed, touched smile on Scott's lips revealed, he finally realized, all that was worth it. "Love you," he finally murmured when the sky had almost darkened completely and it started to get a little chilly up here, reaching out to brush the back of Logan's hand with a shy fingertip. "I know none of us knew where this whole thing would be headed when we started but … I wouldn’t want anyone else with me in such a moment, and that tells me, we made the right choice."

"Good, because you're not getting rid of me anytime soon." As far as Logan was concerned, that was all that needed to be said on the emotions part even on a day like this. Scott would know all he didn’t say either way. Well, maybe one more thing he actually had to tell his lover before they'd retire for the night. "Got something for tonight that I brought from some store downtown last week. Surprise bag special. Honestly, I got no idea what's even in it. But it could be nice for a little adrenaline, to celebrate." When Scott showed him a broad, definitely very interested grin, Logan hurried to get up, the heat of impatience and longing immediately starting to coil in his middle. He took the bottle and glasses but left the almost untouched food because in a house full of fleas, chocolate and cherries would never survive for longer than half an hour anyway. "You go shower the sickbay off, I prepare the Danger Room. Bring the unmarked paper bag on the top board of our cabinet. No peeking inside."

"Why the Danger Room?" Pushing himself up as well, Scott looked like he was about to protest for a second about such scandalous use of the X-Men's hypermodern training facility, but such exaggerated correctness, Logan had fortunately quickly healed him from after they'd gotten together.

Logan stretched up to kiss him again, stealing the remains of that excellent booze from his lover's tongue and giving his firm behind a shameless squeeze. "Because our apartment's not nearly soundproof enough for all I'm gonna do to you tonight."

Judging by the fierce blush immediately stretching over Scott's attractive high cheekbones and the cloud of pheromones radiating off his skin, his partner had no objections.

********

With the alluring shapes Scott could feel in said paper bag on his way to the cellar, it became a challenge, not following his curiosity to open it. But with all the lengths Logan was going for him tonight, in spite of his dislike for too much romance, he didn’t want to ruin the surprise. The gift bag became irrelevant for now anyway when Scott locked the door of the holo hall behind him with his security code where less than a week ago, his life had changed rapidly once more. Then he marveled at the scene Logan had programmed, slowly stepping closer with his mouth ajar to where his lover was waiting for him on an obscenely wide King size, a half-smoked cigar between his fingers, his shirt already having found its way to the ground. That was a sight Scott would happily enjoy in every single one of those details he'd not been able to perceive without a disturbing red blur for so long, but for the moment, he was entirely caught up in the simulated hotel room's interior. Filled with furniture mostly made of glass and crystal, the bright morning light shining through the glass front lit the environment in a whole ocean of color, especially in the shape of hundreds of fragile crystal chains hanging from the ceiling that occasionally clanked in the faint breeze coming through one of the windows, a bright, almost musical sound. The ceiling was mirrored above the bed, of course, the walls lined with prints of famous paintings that Scott knew in theory, but had been physically unable to tell so far if they were actually any good. "Ororo?" It was definitely not a place where he'd expected his lover to spend the night voluntarily, and he appreciated it more than he could say how much effort Logan was putting into making Scott enjoy this unexpected gift of a whole new world to the fullest. But he was also pretty sure, Logan was not an expert on exclusive hotel suites, especially not in what, judging by the gigantic mountains outside, had to be Austria or Switzerland.

"She said something like, once we were done fucking each other stupid, you should have something else to enjoy." Logan nodded down on the mattress but held up his hand when Scott made a move to sit, pointing at a certain item in his hand. "That, not you. You're not getting onto this bed before you're naked, Slim."

Scott rolled his eyes, only belatedly remembering he no longer had a pair of mirrored glasses to hide such gestures from the people around him and grinned ruefully when Logan raised a brow at him warningly. One of those nights then. Well, right now, with all these new sensations flooding his mind, distracting him, Scott wouldn’t have been able to put up the firmness and focus necessary to be in control in bed of someone like Logan anyway who only once in a blue moon was in the mood for submitting as it was. "Just wondered why I bother to put on something nice for you in the first place," he remarked dryly before handing his partner the bag and quickly proceeding to lose his black, tight shirt and leather pants, boots, and underwear, revealing to his lover's hungry eyes that he was already half hard. In vain, he tried to sneak a peek at the content of that bag at last that Logan was rummaging in with a smirk.

"Because I'm not sharing that view with anyone in this house." Logan let out an appreciative hum, eyeing him from head to toe, and put the bag down beside him without taking anything from it for now, to Scott's disappointment. "Come 'ere. Want ya close." He patted the side of his hip, a signal Scott was well-trained in after so many months of sleeping together.

One he was very happy to follow, in spite of his cheeks slightly burning from the humiliation of being the only one entirely naked in the room. Something quickly not only forgotten but somewhat appreciated when he sat down in Logan's lap with his hips pressed to his lover's body, the rough sensation of auburn leather against the back of his thighs drawing a sigh from his lips. Heat pulsated in his veins when he could promptly feel something stir under those tight pants, pressing up deliciously against his bare ass. More than anything, he wanted to bury his hands in that broad, fuzzy chest right now instead of keeping them folded behind his back. Enjoy exploring every inch of that steeled goodness with his tongue, every line and ridge he'd never been allowed to make out so clearly before. See the now more expressive stirs on his lover's face while Scott devoured him … But when Logan was talking to him in that hoarse, firm tone, starting an encounter with such uncompromising commands already, that was off the table unless Scott wanted to earn a spanking, and that was alright. There would be a night for tenderness soon enough.

For now, he would be satisfied with being touched finally, but Logan still preferred just scanning his shaking silhouette up and down, a turned-on grin on his lips while he took an occasional drag from his cigar Scott's light pushdown against his crotch, he ignored in spite of his breathing already going visibly faster. "Some things in that bag, I've been meaning to get up to with you for a while, Slim. With your work obsession, there's no way to tell when we get a full night off next. You gonn' trust me with this? Trust me that I'll take care of you?"

"You always take care of me," Scott answered with a voice shaking far more suddenly than he liked it, and certainly not from doubt in that simple fact proven a thousand times over, in the field and outside of it. "Codeword?" Not something they'd needed so far, busy enjoying that unstoppable physical attraction between them existing ever since they'd met, in every possible way, without the need to dive into the more exotic aspect of things. Scott couldn’t say he'd never thought about it though, in spite of limited experience in that regard. While fetish had not been Jean's cup of tea, he'd read up on it lately a lot more than he cared to admit, in his usual obsessive love for being prepared. To know in theory at least what was coming probably with someone as passionate, wild, and more often than not dominant in the bedroom. None of that information had seriously turned him away from any of these possible games but being a warrior from puberty on, Scott possessed a precise body sensation both in theory and practice and was aware that every physique reacted differently to various stimulations. If something of what his lover had obviously very detailed planned out turned out not to be of Scott's liking, it would make things easier to have a quick and clear way to let Logan know so they could move on to something else.

"Code signal. Talking a lot is not happening tonight," Logan corrected him, visibly pleased with Scott's willing approval about giving himself to him so entirely, only shuddering now, too, at such a lewd promise instead of being scared off. At least two of his fingertips finally touched Scott, coming to rest on his lips, a groan rumbling in his chest when Scott instinctively licked them without being allowed to do so. "This is gonna be a long night for you. Your right hand, slut." Just grinning at Scott's grimace at the playful insult, Logan folded three of Scott's fingers into a fist and nudged him to cross his index finger with his thumb, resembling a vague X. "I'll watch out for that. Now … I think I just found a perfect decoration for those thin wrists of yours."

Hard as he tried, Scott couldn’t fight the hint of apprehension tightening his shoulders because he'd gone through too many captivities in his life and was too much in need of control, usually, to have a great love for restraints. But he didn’t want to ruin the fun immediately. And when Logan retrieved the first items from that bag, he actually had to laugh. Not only were the badly welded rings on those padded restraints so fragile, he was pretty sure he could just rip them off from wherever they might end up being tied to. Those hideous things were also a bright red. "Can I go colorblind again please?"

"I kinda like it. Reminds me of your blasts." Unfazed, Logan put the harmless restraint around Scott's lower arm, and then on his other side, closing both buckles loosely enough so Scott could easily slip out of them if there should be some kind of emergency. From the way Logan was softly pushing his arms back behind his waist without making an attempt to hook the buckles into each other, Scott could tell his lover of course knew exactly what was going on in him.

Not being allowed to bend down for a kiss became worse torture by the second than whatever delicious game of pain and humiliation his top could come up with tonight. "Logan …"

"We only just got started, Slim. Might wanna practice patience." Logan ran the same two fingertips up and down Scott's throbbing cock without even grasping him properly, humming at the treacherous drop of white collecting at the tip. This time, the way he was pushing against Scott's lip a moment later was unmistakable. Now a shudder ran through Logan's bulky shape as well when Scott did his best, cleaning his own salty taste of his lover's skin with firm sucking movements, a playful swirl of his tongue, nothing short of a promise. Logan's equally untouched cock promptly twitching against Scott's rim through his pants, he thrust his fingers deeper into Scott's mouth, moaning with his eyes closed as he was losing himself to the vivid fantasy of doing that with something thicker, more solid … Only when Scott moved his head back and forth in bold provocation, hollowing his cheeks around these thick fingers, Logan abruptly pulled away, a warning glistening in those narrow hazel eyes.

"Brat. Good thing we've got all the tools here to help that."

The next item from the surprise bag was in the same ridiculous color, but Scott hardly even noticed, his eyes on the characteristic shape of a thin loop and a large rubber ball attached to its end. For a moment, he almost balked, dreading the surely ridiculous picture he was about to make … But the arousal at the thought of being entirely at the hands of his master tonight, with no means to control anything unless an emergency stop was necessary, won. Still slightly hesitant, he opened up when Logan grazed his lips with the gag, awkwardly pushing against the fortunately quite neutral-tasting material in his mouth with his tongue once it was in, his jaw stretched in a way he was not used to unless he happened to be devouring his lover's cock … Scott's body tensed when he realized how restrictive such a little toy could be but with how rock hard he was by now, there was hardly a way to deny, he liked it. So he obediently leaned closer to his lover and lowered his head when he was being told to, breathing just a little harder through that strange obstacle as the straps were closed behind his head.

Logan used the chance to pull him onto his chest to his delight, finally granting him a little more body contact, entirely ignoring the shameful drops of saliva leaking on his shoulder that Scott could no longer swallow. His hands loosely caressing up and down Scott's back, he occasionally grabbed his behind, stroking his shaking thighs but never touched him where he really needed it.

With all that teasing, it was only a matter of time before Scott forgot his sub manners once more. Soon enough, he was rutting his neglected erection against Logan's through those damn pants, his face firmly buried against his lover's shoulder as he panted through his gag. The hold of his hand on his other wrist, just to keep himself from actually touching his lover, was now more effective than any restraint in this world. Only when a large hand grabbed his hair above the gag strap, yanking him back, he realized he'd fucked up.

"Can't go easy on you for five damn minutes," Logan sighed, outrageously calm in spite of how much Scott could feel his untouched length strain against his pants from the inside. The smell not only of his own lust was heavy in the air by now. "Sit." As a first punishment, Logan's strict hands on his hips directed Scott downward until he was seated on the tree trunks that were Logan's thighs instead of his crotch, robbed of that delicious touch of hardness from a second ago. Not only an admonishment to put him in place but also a distance to give Logan more room to play as it turned out when the next toy revealed was thin, soft rope, again in that stupid color.

Scott's muffled nagging about the penalty turned to an honestly offended word behind his gag when the rope didn’t go, as half and half expected, to his wrists or ankles but was wrapped around the base of his cock and his balls instead, in unforgiving loops pushing any kind of release far out of reach. Expecting nothing but being ignored, he writhed unhappily, keening softly when hated, unforgiving pressure left his genitals even more swollen and throbbing, the pressure of growing need especially on the inside worse by the second.

Once satisfied with his work, Logan cut the excess rope off with one claw tip and gave Scott's ass a slap, drawing another high-pitched tone from his stretched lips. "Better. Up." He motioned to the ground next to the bed, his pupils large with growing lust. "Back to me, head down."

Though he was still a little irritated, Scott followed those orders as well, realizing with resignation that he wasn’t any less turned on because of that forced restraint between his legs, on the contrary. Turning away from his lover robbed him of the heat of Logan's strong body against his, the slightly cool air of their accommodations brushing over his skin where a first layer of sweat was drying, making him shiver all over. And yet he didn’t feel for a single moment, he didn’t want any of this, not when his lover was so clearly enjoying himself and Scott's own body was shaking in growing want. Having closed his eyes automatically, Scott let out a gasp when the next stripe of thin leather was wrapped around his neck, the buckle closed nowhere near tightly enough to restrict his breathing in any way. That was not what this was about. When Logan turned him around by his shoulder again and the leash belonging to the collar, of course in the same damn color, was clipped onto it, Scott's knees almost buckled from the overwhelming heat in his cells. His cheeks were a bright red at this new lustful humiliation but his cock obviously didn’t share that notion, straining in its bondage, new precum dripping on the expensive simulated cashmere carpet while he gripped his wrist behind his back so harshly, he could feel his own nails leave traces.

His eyes wide open, he whined around his gag when Logan started to trace all these little things he'd decorated him with, with slow, circling movements of his fingertips, never lingering anywhere for too long, licking his lips in growing hunger again and again. The tent in his pants started to look painful by now, his own skin flushed deep, but he somehow managed to hold back – by now, Scott was pretty sure there was a certain kind of ring involved in that, given Logan's usually far harder to control feral urges – and regard Scott with a proud smile. "You have no idea how fucking hot you are right now, slut." He let out an exasperated sigh when Scott instinctively squirmed and scrunched his nose for a lack of verbal methods to protest, never too comfortable with compliments, and reached behind him for the bag again. "I was giving you a chance to be good for me. Apparently, you really want to use all these things."

Things, in this case, meant two metal clamps with ridiculous little pendants Scott was pretty sure resembled either balls or a cherry and couldn’t decide what was worse. Not that it mattered, given the awfully sharp and tight-looking teeth on these things. It was the first time tonight for his breathing to go too fast, too hard, for a reason other than arousal but that quickly changed when Logan leaned in to lick a long, soothing stripe over his chest, covering his skin with small nips and kisses until he could relax again. Only to tense all over when his lover's lips found one of his already pebbled nipples, nurturing that hardness only with firm sucking. The little flashes of lust went straight to Scott's groin, adding to the agonizing tension there as his balls were fuller and heavier by the second, his cock leaking white all over the place, without any kind of release in sight. With his eyes squeezed firmly shut, his attention was off, and he only snapped back fully into the game when the first clamp bit down on his skin. Screaming out, Scott had to broaden his stance when he startled harshly, the stinging and pressure on sensitive skin more than he'd had expected … But once he got used to the worst of that initial torture, the tug reduced to a mild throb, he found it at least helped with not being that close to an unreachable ledge anymore. Which didn’t make it any easier to go through the same procedure on the other side. Before he was finished coming down from the pain on his other nipple, Logan's lips were suddenly on his cock, licking, sucking firmly, taking him in bit by bit, and though Scott knew of course, that was only meant as more torture as long as that damn rope was on, his brains immediately checked out from pleasure.

Logan was nice enough to keep him from trying something as stupid as thrusting and earning himself another punishment with his hands firmly on Scott's hips but never once stopped taking him in until his lips grazed the edge of those ropes. Then he just stayed there, slowly swallowing around Scott's tip, humming in arousal as his administrations drew more precum from the oversensitive tip. Scott could swear he could see the bastard grin around his cock when Scott trembled and jerked and the stupid clamps on his nipples clanked with a dull plastic thud, a tug from the albeit light weight torturing his nipples further. "Doing so well for me, Slut." When Logan pulled away again, his beautiful lips were slightly swollen, precum and saliva glistening in his beard, and Scott thought he would probably have come from that alluring sight alone right now if he'd been able to. "Think we're gonna leave the blindfold in that bag for now; you've had enough of that. But you still deserve a punishment for being impatient as you know. You gonn' be a good little slut for me and take it?"

Scott wasn’t sure he could make it through one more minute of all this before losing his mind but nodded anyway, arduously blinking away sweat from his eyes, leaning into Logan's loving touch on his ass cheeks with a small sob of approval. His blood was only racing faster in his veins when a well-known, promising massage of two fingertips found his untouched opening, just teasing the twitching skin for the moment.

"Soon," Logan promised with a heated smirk, then grabbed the end of that leash dangling down Scott's chest casually between two fingers, much like he usually held his cigars, and got up to stride to some massive mahogany desk in the corner without even looking back.

The tightening grasp of the collar around Scott's neck threatened to hinder his breathing before he gathered his wits and followed his lover, an alluring sensation that he filed for another time because the experiments running right now were already suited to drive him out of his damn mind. His skin glistening with heat, it was pure relief, being told to bend over that desk. He couldn’t even mind that there was a huge crystal mirror hung over it in which he could now see his own flushed, disarranged appearance all the clearer. He only winced at the pressure of the edge against his groin, tilting his hips away for a more comfortable angle, only to be rewarded with another tight slap to his cheeks. This, at least, something familiar which he occasionally enjoyed. Now moaning loudly around his gag, he didn’t even care about the impressive amount of drool dripping from his lips on the simulated precious surface. The pressure of the clamps was a far less arousing sensation, biting into his skin with every breath and helping to not be focused entirely on the emptiness and clench inside that begged to be filled, and soon. And all these sensations were doubled in an instant with smooth round leather hit his other ass cheek just a second after the reflection in that mirror had let Scott know, his lover had found himself another new toy. Screaming out more in surprise than anything, he tried instinctively to straighten back up, only for Logan's free hand to firmly close around both his wrists, holding him steady.

The click of the cuff's links sounded, driving the point home that Scott was not supposed to move right now, and Logan's hand stayed right there, keeping him in place as his lover rained down a series of tight hits on his ass, never once in the same place and none of them so hard, Scott had to fear carrying bruises until the end of next week. Which didn’t make it exactly fun, but every time he threw his head back with another strained groan, he could see his partner's unhinged expression in the reflection, the unbridled passion in Logan's rugged features that Scott had never before been allowed to make out down to the last wrinkle around tightly drawn back lips. The light of bone-deep want in those beautiful eyes, the glistening of his lover's sharp teeth in the bright sunlight …

Together with the pleasant flashes of adrenaline from the stinging and burning on his thin skin, Scott was even more turned on instead of less soon, squirming mindlessly against Logan's hold. He only lay still on the desk, panting breathlessly, as his lover reached for the bed and the other tool still waiting there once more. Scott's head was swimming to the point of incoherence at this point, and he was still so painfully hard, he almost expected to be coming right through that damn rope anytime. Unlike the paddle, the Cat-o-Nine, Scott knew from a very drunk encounter with a certain blonde telepath living not far from here, right before Jean and he had been a thing. But nothing he could remember from that night came close to what Logan promised would be the last hits tonight, dealt out with eerie precision to the back of his thighs.

With his lover standing behind him again, Scott was able to watch him sneak one hand into his pants while he worked, the impatience finally getting the better of Logan. Their moans sounded through the room basically as one as Logan was working his cock with firm, artless movements while reddening Scott's skin, visibly on the brink of coming himself.

That made it far easier for Scott to deal with the new thin welts and heat blooming on his skin, the pleasant burning that wandered right to his groin, leaving him shaking so much, it rattled the damn desk. Need hopefully, finally, about to be fulfilled when Logan finally carelessly threw that last toy away and knelt behind Scott to cut that damn rope off him with the precision and care of a glassblower which never once sent even a shiver of unease through Scott's body at that cold metallic sensation so close to most sensitive flesh.

"Proud of you, slut," Logan murmured against his shoulder, leaning over him, the familiar noise of some foil being ripped opening revealing, their surprise bag had contained basic items for the night, too. "Eyes open," he cautioned Scott, no longer that strict, when Scott's eyelids instinctively started to flutter at the slick, warm touch between his reddened cheeks. "Want you to see how hot you are …"

Energy for something as protesting had long left Scott, so he kept his hooded gaze at that mirror, eagerly spreading his legs for his lover further upon another slight slap to the inside of his thigh, broken moans escaping his lips when Logan stretched him open as quickly and efficiently as the last few months had taught him. Then he was there, finally, those stupid pants out of the way at last. And only now, seeing that massive, strong silhouette stand behind his bound and marked body, Scott thought he could get what his lover liked so much about mirrors. Not a thought that could linger for long though, at the wonderful thick pressure breaching him just a second later, his body arching up instantly, new whimpers breaking from his lips when he slumped back down and the damn clamps reminded him he was still very much in the hands of his partner.

Fortunately, Logan had no more intention of making him wait, fucking into him hard and fast, whatever ring he'd used earlier to keep his arousal in check now gone as well. One hand holding Scott in place again by his cuffs, his steel hard cock pistoled in and out of Scott's well-oiled hole, the coarse touch of the hair all over his thighs and loins a delicious sting on Scott's bruises that allowed no instant height which served them both just fine. Only when the noise from Scott's lips grew too desperate, Logan opened his cuffs again and allowed him to reach back, to bury his hands in Logan's hair as strong arms wrapped around his chest, lifting him up easily, Logan whispering gently in his ear that it was alright, that he could let go.

With the angle slightly changed, every thrust now hit the perfect spot, and Scott was coming all over that desk before he knew, writhing on his lover's cock, fucking himself down on it again and again as he emptied himself longer, harder than he could remember in a while.

The almost brutal clench of his muscles sending Logan right into orgasm as well, the well-known hot splash deep inside drew a lustful whimper from Scott, both of them slumping back down on the desk, out of breath. Logan still had half a mind left to reach under Scott and pull off those damn clamps, to softly caress him through the inevitable burn right after, covering his neck in soothing kisses, nestled as closely to him as possible. By the time they were somehow orientated enough to move again, the gag and the leash had found their way to the ground but Logan made it a point, leaving the cuffs and collar on Scott as they snuggled on the mattress stomach to back, and Scott couldn’t find it in him to mind.

They were both dozing off before there could be any more words exchanged, but knowing his lover's very active libido, Scott had no doubt he'd be woken up for round 2 before midnight, so he was entirely alright with that. He had the rest of the night to tell Logan how glad he was that Logan had once more been there a week ago to save him from his own stupidity and help make this crucial, wonderful change in Scott's life possible. For nights like this, it was more than worth it, not giving in to the burden of all this bullshit out there threatening them, the mutant world, the whole world. It was not only thanks to his newfound control over his gift, Scott could see that more clear than ever this night.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

[brothermanwill]

Karnakians originally evolved on a world with an extreme axial tilt causing seasonal environment changes to be drastic. Extremely hot summers and bone-chilling winters along with a very long year drove the need to be flexible in their thermo-regulation. Thus, evolution thrusted upon the humble Karnakian a high variability of feather development. Pictured above is a "Snowy Karnakian." One that has spent a large portion of its life in an extremely cold environment which has caused its body to express what is colloquially known as "wintering." A form of feather hyper development.

Karnakians can fully develop and lose these feathers in 2 Terran months if consistently exposed to uncomfortably cold or warm temperatures. Part of this type of discomfort is physiologically linked to the Karnakian stress responses. Sufficient stress, physical or mental, can induce rapid feather loss. Some medical and psychological disorders can be diagnosed by the rapid gaining or losing of feather density.

While technology and advances in clothing technology has eliminated the biological need for this degree of feathering, each Karnakian is unique in their “baseline” feathering. Some hold onto feathers more readily as opposed to others as demonstrated by the diversity shown in space station populations.

"Listen dude. I don't care how hard you worked that double black diamond. If you need to cool off, don't take off your jackets. You will get manhandled." -picuture below, the speaker getting manhandled

Karnakians get "broody" around humans is that they look sick/stressed out, at least to their hind brains. They see a little guy that got no feathers when they 100% should. No feathers means unhealthy, a hatchling or stressed the fuck out

And yes they are very fluffy

[nkn0va]

Man,you did a hell of a job with that Aigis and Noel request I had which is why I had my high faith of your talents. Now this request is gonna be a bit more complicated I would imagine,but by any chance could you envision a crossover between Persona 3 and Under Night In-Birth? Maybe the S.E.E.S group mixing up with the majority of the Licht Kreis members like Orie,Mika,and the more morally reasonable folks of the organization as they take on the voids and shadows under the night?(in birth HAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DUDE THESE JOKES ARE SO FUCKING FUN-)

Alright I think I've procrastinated on this one long enough. I'll give it my best shot. Sorry if it's not up to par with the last one, I am sleep deprived while writing this.

-This particular scenario takes place after the last ask with Aigis and Noel.

-Aigis had reported back to S.E.E.S about what just happened, at least after they all calmed down from the anxiety of her just disappearing for 2 whole weeks.

-The team was quite intrigued about this to say the least, pretty much all of them wanted to go see this fantastical other world for themselves with magic, advanced technology, devils, and cat people. After preparation all of them followed Aigis into the TV and towards where the portal was that Noel was hopefully able to sustain.

-However once they did arrive there Aigis and Fuuka quickly sensed something else that was not there before. Before everyone knew it a pure black mass had appeared and swallowed them whole, leaving them no time to react.

-Once they woke up, they seemed to be back in the real world. However strangely enough no one seemed to recognize where they were. It was a city that was...somewhat similar to Tokyo? But that wasn't where they were before entering the T.V World.

-Everyone splits up to some investigations, soon finding out they ended up in a place called Kanzakai, which definitely did not exist. Aigis confirmed this looked nothing like the world she had been to before, this one was entirely different. The Kirijo Group didn't even exist here. however they got hold of another similar group, the Licht Kreis.

-Eventually when they found the base, night had fallen. Out of nowhere, everyone started feeling physically sick. When they eventually recovered they sky and moon had turned a crimson red, and all the people around seemed to have disappeared. Most of them rightfully freaked the hell out.

-They tried walking up to the base and knocking, being answered by a woman with cyan hair and royal white clothes, almost as if she was a priest.

-She introduced herself as Silvaria, and while she normally wouldn't let trespassers in, especially since there were guys in the group, something about them was different, she could feel it.

-Upon her saying this, Akihiko, being as brash as he was, tried summoning his Persona without a second thought. Mitsuru was about to reprimand until much to everyone's surprise...it worked.

-Questions immediately started flying Silvaria's way, and she had to patiently explain to them the concept of the Hollow Night and EXS powers. Thankfully S.E.E.S' experience with the supernatural meant they were pretty quick on the uptake.

-Eventually the deal was made that the Licht Kreis would house the team until they could find a way home in return for their services.

-It was soon decided that they would have a team of these experience "In-Births" to help them navigate the night. This team ends up being Orie's team, comprised of Mika, Lex, and Kaguya.

-They teach them about the Voids the crawl through the night and how best to eliminate them, at least after they confirm that Orie's Thanatos is in fact not a Persona but her EXS ability.

-Imagine their surprise when they see Akihiko in action as he beats Voids to death with his bare hands. Many questions are asked, but they eventually give up when he says lots of protein with complete and utmost confidence. This was going nowhere.

-Orie and Lex are the helpful mentors. Mika's just there for the ride mostly, wanting to show off her strength, and Kaguya's the one that while is helpful, has a tendency to play pranks and tease the more gullible members of S.E.E.S. Her favorite targets in particular are Junpei and Ken. Flirty remarks are sent their way to catch them them off guard, finding more and more amusement the more flustered their reactions are, at least until Mitsuru and Orie get them back on track.

-With Fuuka and Lex on tech support/navigation, it's thankfully not long before S.E.E.S manage to find a way home, namely through manipulating the Abyss in the same way that it strangely acted up and sent them to Kanzakai in the first place.

[dumbassprotagonist]

It's me, fucker.

2/11/18

Please, if you are not Bethany, don't read this. Or do I actually don't care that much.

Hey its me; you. But 5 years ago. Yes, this is 13 year old little fetus Bethany DeVito. I guess I'll start by refreshing your memory about what life was like back in the day. The latest events:

-people are eating tide pods. Yup.

- you realized only a few days ago that you are not bi, but a pure, 100% gay

- you still have those round glasses

-your ceiling currently has the northern hemisphere mapped out on it in glowing starts. It's pretty sick

-You're a fUCKING NERD but what's new

-you haven't moved in with dad just yet, but the custody battle will probably start soon. Mom still has no idea

-You're sons' first birthdays are next month

-ereri is life

- you cut that mole off two nights ago. Yup, that one.

- you got this idea from and Dan and Phil video

-as you type this, you are sick and want to fucking die

- you currently want to be a chemical engineer

- kaileigh still likes you

-You're in advanced art (and drawing Danny Devito as a project)

-Depression, Anxiety, and possible bpd. But the list goes on

-watsky.

-honestly you can go fuck yourself sideways with a stapler because you really are a little shit

-i don't care what you say, I am kin with waluigi

And that's the extent to which I'm willing to shower you in nostalgia that you never asked for. But now, it's time for you to answer some questions:

-do you eat anything but ramen?

-have you ever had a girlfriend? Do you have one now? Probably not but can't blame me for trying

-What fandom are you obsessed with right now? I know there's at least one

-are you still in marching band?

-did you make any new friends? Tbh probably not but whatever

-have the furries infiltrated the lgbt community yet? They've been trying for a while

-What's the deal with transracialism?

-have you come out to your parents yet?

-What's your favorite color right now?

-if you could give 13 year old you any advice right now, what would it be?

-how did WWIII go? I have to assume Trump started it

- what are your plans for college? Right now you want to go to MIT, even though you know it will never happen.

- is kaileigh still your best friend? Low-key wondering if she's still alive

-are your eyebrows still poppin?

-is gary the lemom still a very sour man?

-What's your relationship with your mom and Madeline?

-do you consider yourself Christian?

-read any great books lately? Describe them

-are you still a little sadistic fuck?

-are you still on prozac? Do you still get fucked up dreams?

-are you mentally stable yet because it's starting to get on my nerves

- is there any new slang that didn't exist in 2018?

-do you know any other languages?

- what is the most advanced piece of technology right now?

-did you ever find out your iq?

-anything new discovered about space?

-who was your first kiss?

- kaileigh asks: "Who’s the most important influence on you currently?"

-What's your cringiest moment so far?

-are you still into mbti?

-have you improved at all as an artist?

-did that mole grow back?

-have you gotten any better at taking care of yourself?

-any new mental illnesses to add to the collection?

-how was the ending of attack on titan?

-have you lost your virginity yet? Come on you're 18 Jesus christ

- What was it like being a mellophone section leader?

-did you ever take up piano again?

-do you finally have boobs? Please say you have at least a B.

-has your life become even remotely satisfying in these past five years? Hopefully.

I can't come up with any more questions at the moment. Hope you have a moderately successful adult life. Don't to drugs, always use peotection, and never pull out anal beads like you're revving a lawnmower. Peace, my good bitch. 👌

[davekat-sucks]

I really don't like how Aradia left Sollux on that roof either, but it isn't too implausible for him to be completely sick of narrative nonsense in general. Here, let me provide a link to help prove my point!

https://www.homestuck.com/story/6045

On this page, he backs out from finding the treasure that could take down Lord English, the dude killing everyone and destroying the literal fabric of reality, leaving Aradia behind. Granted, he did apologize for dipping out and wanted to see her again, if they made it out alive. I thought Aradia leaving was meant to mirror that moment.

Still... they could have kept in contact through technology right? Sollux's the fucking troll hacker extraordinaire; surely out of everyone in the comic, he'd be the one to create a device capable of interdimensional communication! Like, Karkat had the Crab Watch, maybe give Aradia a Bone Phone!! Let the pair post to one another using the Necronomiblog or something!!! :(

I guess Andrew Hussie and the writers at WhatPumpkin forgot, that Sollux is an actual hacker and coder. If people argue that he can't really do something like hack his palmhusk because he is blind, they forget that Terezi was able to still do cool shit and communicate with others, even when she can't see. A blind Sollux still being able to hack because he memorizes they keyboard and maybe licks his computer to see if he got it right, will still give him a chance to at least get in contact with someone like Aradia. But I guess it would be something like "Why doesn't John use his windy powers to stop the bomb?" WhatPumpkin will make some kind of bullshit that Sollux never thought about it and make him have the Idiot Ball.

[taiblogcomics]

The Inevitable Origins Issue

Hey there, fruit boots. Well, it's time to get back into Avengers Arena. Sigh. I have only myself to blame, I know, but I'm still not looking forward to it. Heck, yesterday I had major dental work done, and I have more positive feelings about that. I think I mentioned it before, but to clarify: this is all gonna be new to me. I only read up to issue 6 back in the day before giving up. So maybe the series will totally turn around in its later parts! I kinda doubt it, but let me live in hope, however vain it is. But anyway, let's get into it~

Here's the cover:

Arcade's pondering his orb, I see. Putting the comic's logo in the middle is kind of clever, at least. It's like he's looking into a crystal ball, and he's seen the worst possible future. Same one we have by reviewing this, really. At least it's mostly covering his face, the less of the smug jackass we can see, the better. I dunno, there's probably symbolism from the floating kids, but I'll be damned if I can figure it out. As they say, we won't linger on this one, folks, there's not much to it~

So, we've been away for a while, you're probably expecting a recap. Well, good news! None is needed! This is actually a great issue to rejoin our series on, because this one is entirely a flashback. Not even a framing device or anything. So anyway, we start at Arcade's estate, where he's throwing a party. He's setting up before the soiree kicks off, and he's equipping some technology to let him eavesdrop on the whole event. As he's doing so, suddenly his lovely assistant, Miss Coriander, suddenly brings a giant sword down on him! Hey, I like where this is going already~

Alas, the series isn't unfortunately undone retroactively by killing Arcade in a flashback. No, this is just another of his sick little games he likes to play. Hire his assistant to try and kill him. Hey, if I was his assistant, I'd do it for free! It seems to be a birthday tradition for him. Me, I just go to Outback Steakhouse. Anyways, the yutz makes his grand enterance to "Boom Boom Boom" and starts playing himself up. I also refuse to believe Arcade is only 29, his face is way too saggy for that. But maybe he's aging prematurely because of what his eavesdropping equipment is picking up.

See, he wanted to listen in on all the gossip on the other supervillains he's invited to the party, like Taskmaster, Batroc the Leaper, and Constrictor over here. Except the only thing anyone's gossipping about is him and what a goon he is. The Wrecking Crew is at another table, saying the same things. Taskmaster at least likes the food, but Constrictor would rather just burn the place down, preferably with Arcade in it. That's the last straw for Arcade, and he picks up a wine bottle and smashes it across Constrictor's face, breaking it. Breaking the wine bottle, not his face. Though probably his face as well.

Constrictor turns on Arcade, preparing to attack him. But a squad of security robots appear, put Constrictor in a forcefield bubble, and have him escorted from the premises. And even this doesn't shift or stall opinions, he's still hearing folks over his eavesdropping commenting that the whole display was just "sad", mostly due to Arcade not having any powers. He's got a lot of money, but it can't buy him any damn respect. Anyway, Arcade goes storming out of the party, opening the doors to his den or somewhere.

In his den, there's a group of other supervillains (it doesn't matter who, but for the curious, it's Trapster, the Eel, Porcupine, and Pretty Persuasions) slumming it on his couch, watching old file footage of Arcade's many escapades. This particular instance involves Arcade running for his life from an angry Captain America dressed as Santa Claus. They're laughing their asses off, of course, and when fucking Trapster is laughing at you, you know you got problems. Arcade tries to explain to them that the value is in playing the game, not winning, but they don't really buy it.

Arcade storms out again, taking a service staircase up, where he's suddenly met by Miss Coriander again. And this time she's equipped with a flamethrower. Next thing Arcade is aware of, he's waking up in the hospital. Suddenly this is my favourite issue. Arcade explains that probably he murdered his father on his 21st birthday, when his father informed him he wouldn't been getting an inheritence. Well, you certainly won't now, dumbass. Also, I don't believe that A) this happened only 8 years ago, and 2) Arcade is an adult in this panel.

Anyways, Miss Coriander comes to see him, and they have a chat. She thinks he plays fair, and he denies that he's ever been fair. After all, he murdered her predecessor who got a little too close with their little play of trying to kill him. She brought him a book as an apology, "that one about the kids on the island", first edition. He fires her. Not over the book, but just coz he's giving up. Alas, what could've been. He gives her his island in Barbados and helicopter as severance, and goes out to mope in his bar that he also apparently has.

This bar's a fucking wreck, too. Dunno if there was a fight here and he never cleaned up, or it's just because he's been here so long. But he has been here a while, since his hair's gotten longer. We only get to see him mope for a moment, though, because Constrictor comes in through the window, fully intent on throttling Arcade. Arcade, fully wallowing in self-pity, lets himself get knocked around for a while. Dude's clearly depressed, but I don't think they make therapy for supervillains. Like, I think Moonstone is a psychologist, that's how bad it is.

Even Constrictor gets tired of it, finding him too pathetic to kill. This will be his mistake. Instead he just asks where the valuables are kept, and Arcade hesitates a moment before telling him there's a safe in the basement. Constrictor can't see a way into the basement, and Arcade further tells him there's a hidden switch under the bar's counter. Constrictor presses it, and a giant hammer swings down and slams Constrictor into the wall. Arcade, still bloodied and bruised, nonetheless taunts him for being stupid enough to follow his instructions.

Now reinvigorated, Arcade collects Miss Coriander from her island, deciding he's got an all-new plan he needs her help pulling off. He's inspired, partially due to the book he gave her. So the pair of them set out for Antarctica and set up a new Murder World. God, Antarctica again? Between this guy and Harvest... Why do supervills love to set up their elaborate underground bases out in Antarctica? It can't be the climate. Oh yeah, and Arcade now has his god powers. They finally explain this. Genetic engineering's too messy, so what's the solution?

Yep. That's it. Child Murder Island is just so inundated with nanites that Arcade can manipulate them however he wishes--but only while he's in Child Murder Island's radius. He's basically invincible while he's here. And that's when he tries to blast Miss Coriander with fire, having decided that he's let her in too much, she knows him too well now. And indeed, she does know him too well, because she's set up a shield ahead of time. She's unharmed, and she teleports out. Arcade ends the issue by telling her "good game".

So, like... what am I supposed to get out of this issue? Are we supposed to find Arcade relatable? Sympathetic? Just regular pathetic? His peers hate him and think he’s a tool, and they’re right. Other than explaining his damn god-powers--which, honestly, could’ve just been written into issue 1--is there anything actually to be gleaned from knowing how he came up with and built Child Murder Island? Eh, at least this one isn’t actually about any child-murdering, so I guess I’ll take it~