#but i liked the kitchen laboratory theme

[anderwater]

Science, baby.

[kazekagevi]

Bonds Beyond Words: If Eywa Wills It

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

Pairing: Aged-Up!Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: dark themes, mention of suicide attempt, eventual NSFW, aged-up! Neteyam, reader has PTSD, Neteyam dislikes humans (except for you), eventual jealous/possessive Neteyam, future Olo'eyktan! Neteyam, Jake Sully appearance, random Human!OC's, interspecies slow burn, angst, fluff, probably OOC, POV’s all over the place, forgive the inconsistencies. 

Summary: You settle into your new home at High Camp. You have a conversation with the Olo'eyktan, Jake Sully.

A/N and Disclaimer: If anyone would like to be notified/tagged in future updates, please comment on this post! Forgive any present tense inconsistencies.

This story contains explicit content and is only appropriate for audiences 18+. MDNI. Please do not repost my work. 

Your adrenaline plummets. You rest for hours without interruption. 

The room Max has put you up in is nice, but you know it’s too spacious to be permanent. You lie comfortably on a lumpy couch. Sometimes the dim lights flicker, there’s a constant mechanical hum, and the blankets are scratchy, but you nap peacefully for the first time since cryosleep. It’s homely. You need this moment of respite. 

Hours later, you wake to the smell of something fragrant cooking. You’re so hungry that you feel nauseous. 

As badly as you want to leap from the couch and venture into the kitchen, you lie still. You continue to cherish this time to yourself—you’re unsure when you’ll get such an opportunity again. 

You let the events of the past week wash over you like a tidal wave. Tears come and go, just like mental flashes of the faces of the many women and allied wardens long gone. As demoralizing and dehumanizing the experience was, you became a tight-knit family because of it. Your pain is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before—as much as you miss them, you know they’re better off dead than being torn apart and transformed into the RDA’s breeding machines. It leaves a tart feeling in your mouth: it’s upsettingly bittersweet. 

Wading through the water of your thoughts and emotions is treacherous. If you swim too long, you know you’ll drown. 

You push away the blankets, then fold them neatly. You swipe beneath your tear ducts. After standing by the door for ten minutes, you gain the courage to place your palm over the entryway censor. You make it two steps out before you’re stopped. 

You’re startled by a woman’s whistle—it’s reminiscent of a catcall. She leans against a doorframe with a toothpick between her canines. She’s human. She’s stocky and muscular. The woman wears a navy-blue jumpsuit and combat boots. You can tell her hair was once jet black, but it’s starting to grow in gray. “Welcome, new girl,” she says.

“Hi,” you reply sheepishly. You introduce yourself—first name only. 

She does the same: “I’m Mia.” 

You shake hands—you note that her palms are very calloused. Mia must be involved with hands-on labor. 

“Listen, I don’t like to beat around the bush,” says Mia. She leans in closer, like she has a secret to tell you. “You need to shower,” she confesses, this time much quieter. There isn’t a lick of malice in her tone. “Like, immediately.” 

You appreciate her honesty, but your cheeks flush. Mia pulls a chuckle from your chest. “I know,” you reply feebly. 

And so, Mia takes this moment as an opportunity to give you a proper tour of the human’s facility at High Camp. You’re going to be living there, after all. 

Admittedly, there isn’t much to see. Together, you stroll through the science shacks and a few vacant laboratories. You meet a few more scientists. You return to the two flex rooms, like the one you napped in; Mia shows you the barracks and bunk beds, the link units, and the kitchenette. Norm is cooking what he describes to be his very own fusion recipe: a soup that combines both human and Pandoran ingredients. In passing, you apologize to Norm for spitting on him, again—you’ve already apologized four times, but once more couldn’t hurt. He makes it abundantly clear that everything is well between you both. 

“I would do the same if they captured me,” Norm confesses. “Much worse, in fact.” 

Your tour ends at the showers. Mia leaves briefly, then returns with a towel, a new bar of soap, a plastic hairbrush, a few garments of clothing, and a toothbrush and paste. “This is all we have right now,” Mia explains. 

It’s more than enough, you think. 

Tears well in your eyes at the sight of these items; although necessary for most humans, to you, these things feel like a luxury. 

“There’s hot and cold water knobs. The hot water alone won’t last long. Try to maneuver the knobs to use hot and cold at the same time,” she says with a short demonstration. Warm water spits out of the shower head onto the tiled wall in front of it. You hold out your palm—it’s bliss. 

You’re solaced. You thank Mia one last time. She takes her cue to leave and gives you some privacy. 

---

Despite the lukewarm water diminishing to icy-cold after only a few minutes, you spend a long time in the shower. You wash your hair. You scrub everything, at least twice. Your pruned fingertips feel foreign angst the metal knob—you haven’t been allowed a long enough shower since your past life on Earth. 

The clothes Mia left for you don’t fit quite right. The pants drag on the floor and aren’t secure around the waist; you take a step, and your trousers pool at your knees. You have no choice but to create a makeshift belt with spare twine and an aptly-sized piece of elastic from Mia’s sewing kit. As you weave the components together, you realize her sewing kit doubles as her first-aid box. She must use the same thread to stitch seams on fabric and cuts on skin. You take this opportunity to gently reapply scar ointment and new dressing to the stitched slash beneath your collarbone. 

The tanktop she gave you, on the other hand, was made for someone with slightly smaller anatomy. In comparison to the pants, it fits skin-tight snug. Luckily, the undergarments are trouble-free. 

When you re-enter the common area, everyone is there. It’s down-to-Earth, you note—the thought makes your lips curl into a smile.

You spend a few moments observing. Most of the scientists look like regular people. They’re plain. Modest, simple. There’s nothing particularly special about any of them, barring their bright smiles. People involved with the RDA don’t smile like that. 

It isn’t long before the “plain scientist” exception enters via the airlock entrance. 

At first, you think he’s naked. You instinctively cover your eyes with your palms to give the guy some privacy. You faintly hear him yell something out the door through the glass—you can’t discern any of it, so it must be in Na’vi. You peek through your fingertips. 

Once the front airlock closes, the human male removes his oxygen mask, hangs it on a hook by the entrance, and presses his hand to the entryway scanner. He strolls in casually, like he owns the place. The young man wears nothing but a loincloth and carries an old leather satchel. Painted, blue streaks mark his body in horizontal stripes. 

It clicks for you quickly—he sees himself as one of them. He wears his loyalty to the Na’vi. It’s… admirable. 

When he speaks again, he greets Max in English and makes an inside joke with Norm that flies over your head. He chucks his bag onto a nearby stool and smoothes his hands over his ash-blonde dreads. 

Inevitably, you’re curious to know more. Your thoughts buzz with questions—instinctively, you’d like to interview him. 

“Food’s ready!” Norm calls. 

That’ll have to wait. 

The room descends to orderly chaos. A scientist you’ve already forgotten the name of is gathering silverware. Another gives everyone a bowl or mug. Metal chairs scrape across the floor as people line up in front of the kitchenette. Mia is adamant about having her mug, which is bright pink with a broken handle. Norm serves stew with a metal ladle. Someone else passes out dethawed bread rolls from the walk-in freezer. 

They make jokes in passing. They ask each other questions. Occasionally, they bicker, like when one of the scientists scolds Norm for giving him too big a portion. They’re a family. It’s lovely, you think. 

Then Mia calls your name. “Please,” she says, “join us!”

The room quiets down. You briefly make eye contact with the semi-nude young male. He’s around your age—maybe a year or two younger. 

Entering the common area takes only a sliver of bravery in comparison to the courage you had to collect in order to survive thus far; it’s still scary, nonetheless. You gulp. 

You’re provided a bowl. Norm serves you a heaping portion of soup. Max pours you a glass of water from a large pitcher at the end of the table. You’re offered two dinner rolls—just this once, Mia says. People move their chairs to make room for you. Your heart swells. 

“This is-” Mia begins. 

Your interruption is far from rude—you introduce yourself instead. First and last name. 

---

Dinner runs its course. It began with juvenile questions; the community simply wanted to know more about you as a person. They never banked on someone taking one of the empty bunks. They were all being used as precious storage. What’s your name? Where did you come from?

The spotlight is uncomfortable—blinding, even—but you squint through it. You want to interview these people, but it’s your turn instead. 

When some of the scientists begin asking about the RDA, however, the group rears towards an unsettling interrogation. What was it like? they ask. How many were there? Could you spare any details on the escape plan?

With every intrusive question, you intake another mouthful of the fusion stew. It tastes funny, like a bad pun or cringey joke; but you’re too hungry to care. 

“Did you ever see the General?” The human male whom you now know as Spider asks. “She was short. Blonde lady, resting bitch-face. General Ardmore?” 

Mia snorts. Norm clasps his hands together. “Alright, everyone. I think that’s enough,” he states. "Let's not overwhelm the newcomer."

The scientists look at each other, humbled and slightly ashamed. They give you apologetic stares and quiet redresses. 

Max offers to do the dishes. He knows he’ll regret this act of selflessness, but he does it for you. The rest of the scientists leave their empty bowls at the table and retreat to the barracks. Mia pats your shoulder before exiting with the others. 

You turn to Norm once everyone’s left. You hold out your bowl. “Can I have some more?”

---

You’re on your third helping of soup and fourth glass of water when there’s a series of raps at the door outside the airlock. For a split second, you’re back in your cell. You’re reminded of your least favorite warden’s early-morning roll calls. 

You flinch—your body instinctively jerks. But you don’t realize this until you’re swiftly saving your water glass from falling off the table. You rub your brow with the back of your head; you can’t break two things on your first day. 

“Is it him?” Max asks Norm. Max is elbows deep in soap suds and dirty dishes. He starts scrubbing faster. 

“Think so,” Norm replies. 

Who’s him? You’re left to wonder as you scrape the bottom of your soup bowl and take your final bite; there’s no more stew left. 

Norm stands from the table and strides over to the airlock. “Come in!”

You nearly twist your neck trying to turn around before the door opens. 

A tall, blue humanoid enters. He has to crouch when breaching the threshold—the door frame is just too short. It’s the first Na’vi you’ve seen since your interaction with the Na’vi in the forest; spare for Grace, the one in a glass tube full of liquid in the common area. 

For a moment, you think this Na’vi is the one who saved you. But as they grab a respirator mask and enter once the airlock is closed, your assumption is proved to be false. 

The Na’vi nods to Norm. “Good to see ya, Max,” the male Na’vi says, peering into the kitchen. Notably, his English is fluent; but above that, his accent is strangely commonplace among humans. Nothing like the Na’vi from the forest. 

Max peers at him over his shoulder. “You too, Jake,” Max calls back. 

Your eye twitches. You face forward. Your visage pales. 

“Let’s talk about all of this for a moment,” Norm tells Jake Sully. He agrees. Their footsteps get quieter as they walk away from the common room and round the corner. Max dries his hands with a dish towel and follows them. 

You hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation while you chug another glass of water. 

“You’re sure?” Jake Sully asks. “Completely positive?”

“There’s no way,” one of the humans responds. “When she thought she’d been recaptured by the RDA, she tried to slit her wrists. A spy wouldn’t do that.”

Someone adds something to that point, but it’s indiscernible. 

“You’re right,” replies Jake. 

There are footsteps again. You keep your head forward. 

Max clears his throat. “You have a visitor,” Norm says. 

You push away the empty glass and bowl, then rise from your seat at the table. Your eyes meet pale yellow—the same shade as the other forest Na’vi’s irises. 

Jake opens his mouth to speak. “I’m-”

“You’re Jake Sully,” you interrupt. He’s like a myth come to life. During your imprisonment, the girls and wardens talked about him nonstop. He’s a Pandoran celebrity. 

Your face turns crimson. It’s one thing to interrupt Mia, but it’s another to interrupt the goddamn Olo'eyktan, the leader of his people. Not just any, but Jake Sully in particular. You’re mortified. 

You’re unsure how to greet him properly. Should you kneel? Your body scrambles to do the right thing—you bow, curtsey, and offer your hand to shake all at once. 

Jake Sully breathes into the respirator around his neck, veiling a small chuckle. He takes your hand and shakes it gently; due to his size, his engulfs yours. 

“Have a seat,” he says. You do.

Jake Sully can’t possibly fit in any of the chairs, so he defaults to sitting on the floor. “I may be asking for a lot,” he says. “But in order to grant you asylum here, I need to know everything.”

He is asking for a lot. You’ve been through nothing but hell. Your face heats up just thinking about the things you’ve witnessed. You don’t want to relive it. Maybe Norm stopped the others earlier because he knew this was coming. 

As you look into Jake Sully’s eyes, you know malignity isn’t his intention. It quite literally has nothing to do with you, actually. You know that the Olo'eyktan’s job is to keep his people safe. That’s Jake Sully’s motive. He has to know you’re safe. It’s a two-way street—in order to grant you safety, he must be able to ensure his own. 

---

You relay your history on Pandora thus far. It takes over an hour to get through everything. It doesn’t help when Jake asks a dozen questions, and tangents branch off into more tangents. Half-way through the conversation, however, you already know you’re earning his trust. You pinpoint the exact moment, in which Jake admits the reason he joined the RDA and decided to come to Pandora when he lived in a human body. 

It’s just the two of you now—Max finished the dishes a while ago and Norm left because he needed rest. 

Jake avoids your eyes every time you mention something particularly harrowing about your imprisonment. You’re as precise as you are descriptive. Towards the end of your testimony, he looks at his feet for ten minutes straight, while you reiterate the prison break. He can’t say much in response. He acknowledges that the ordeal must have been horrific. 

“Sounds like something out of this old dystopian novel,” Jake mutters. “I think it was called The Handmaid’s Tale.” 

Lastly, you tell him about the Na’vi in the forest who saved you. 

“Do you know him?” you inquire. 

Jake nods. “I do. His name is Neteyam.” He chooses not to elaborate. He omits the fact that Neteyam is his first-born son, next in line for his title. 

“Neteyam,” you echo. 

Jake nods again when you mimic his pronunciation. It’s not bad, he thinks. Not as bad as Neteyam said, when his son was harping on your horrible accent after bringing you, a human, to High Camp on his ikran. Something Jake never thought he’d see. 

“I’d like to thank him,” you say. “He saved my life. How do you say thank you or show gratitude?”

Jake rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should spend a week or two or three here. Take some time to yourself before you consider leaving the science shack and interacting with my people,” he says awkwardly albeit bluntly.

Your brows furrow. His tone of voice suggests there’s no room for protest. 

“Spider, Norm, Max, and everyone else will teach you the ways of the Na’vi,” Jake says. “They all speak the language fluently. And if you want to interact with and live amongst my people, then so will you.”

You nod. You consider telling him the very reason the RDA chose you and your talents—that that was exactly what you came to Pandora to do. “So I will,” you reply simply. 

“If you see us, then we will see you,” Jake says in Na’vi. 

You catch none of it, but nod confidently anyway. He scoffs. 

“Good talk,” Jake says lastly. He takes another breath through his respirator, then leaves through the airlock, just as he came. 

---

A/N: Feel free to leave any and all comments on this chapter! The exposition is almost done, just hold on a little longer! The exposition continues in the next part, but Neteyam will make an appearance, I pinky promise!

Next part is projected to come out a week from today, Tuesday. I will try to keep a consistent posting schedule.

Thank you all so much for the kind comments and notes thus far! <3

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

OTTERSHAW PARK

The mansion

Hi guys!!

I'm sharing Ottershaw Park. This is the 18th building for my English Collection.

I decorated most of the house ground floor, for reference.

The interiors:

History of the house: In 1784 Thomas Sewell died and ownership of Ottershaw Park passed to his son, Thomas Bailey Heath Sewell, Lieutenant Colonel in the Surrey Fencible Cavalry. He sold it in 1796 to Edmund Boehm who improved the interior of the house and enlarged the estate by buying tracts of wasteland and allotments.

In about 1805 Boehm built, to the design of the eminent architect James Wyatt, two Grecian-style lodges at the new entrance to the estate from where a coach road ran to the mansion. The same architect may also have designed for Boehm the Gothic Chapel which originally served as a kitchen, bake house, dairy and pantry but was demolished in 1962.

Ottershaw Park was bought in 1819 by Major General Sir George Wood, a Lieutenant General in the Bengal Army. At this time the estate was largely self-supporting with stables, smithy, brew house, bake house, laundry, dairy, slaughter houses, ice house and two farms.

Sir George died in 1824 and the estate passed to his son, also named George, who in 1841 sold the property to Richard Crawshay who built a new bailiff’s house, farm buildings and brew house.

On Crawshay’s death in 1859 the estate was bought by Sir Thomas Edward Colebrooke MP, who made a number of alterations to the mansion. He also gave the money and land for the building of Christchurch and the first village school.

The estate was later sold to Lawrence James Baker, a stockbroker and MP who sold it in 1910 to the millionaire, Friedrich Gustav Jonathan Eckstein. Eckstein demolished the old mansion and replaced it with the present building designed by Niven & Wigglesworth which is more magnificent and much larger.

During World War I Eckstein made the building available to the British Red Cross as an Auxiliary Home Hospital but soon after the war sold it to Miss Susan Dora Cecilia Schintz, the daughter of a Swiss nitrates millionaire. Miss Schintz lost most of her sizeable inheritance through gifts to charity and bad investments and finally had to sell the estate. Much of it was acquired by the Ottershaw Park Investment Company (OPIC) which planned to develop the rim of the estate for housing. In 1932 the mansion and central part of the park became Ottershaw College, a boarding school for boys which for a short time was very successful, but eventually became insolvent and finally closed at the outbreak of World War II.

During the war The Vacuum Oil Company leased the mansion as offices and laboratories. From 1940 much of the surrounding land was either ploughed for crops or grazed as part of the war effort and the woodland areas were used by the 19 Vehicle Reserve Depot (VRD) for storing vehicles.

The Vacuum Oil Company moved back to London at the end of 1947 and Surrey County Council established Ottershaw School which was opened in 1948. The school prospered until 1980 when it closed due to financial constraints.

In 1982 the developers DeltaHome converted the mansion and other buildings into the present residential estate.

Link: https://www.exploringsurreyspast.org.uk/themes/places/surrey/runnymede/ottershaw/ottershaw_park_estate/

The garden:

More info: https://www.exploringsurreyspast.org.uk/themes/places/surrey/runnymede/ottershaw/ottershaw_park_estate/

The floorplan:

This house fits a 64x64  lot, but I think you can make it a 50x40 if you lose part of the garden and the conservatories on each side.

Piano nobile furnished, the rest is up to your liking.

Hope you like it.

You will need the usual CC I use:

all Felixandre cc

all The Jim

SYB

Anachrosims

Regal Sims

King Falcon railing

The Golden Sanctuary

Cliffou

Dndr recolors

Harrie cc

Tuds

Lili's palace cc

Please enjoy, comment if you like the house and share pictures of your game!

Follow me on IG: https://www.instagram.com/sims4palaces/

@sims4palaces

DOWNLOAD (only members-free to download)

[simp999]

Medic x Reader - The Red Means I Love You

Wc: 2.7k

Themes: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort(reader was feeling down beforehand)

A/N: I really haven't been writing huh,, sorry about that, guys!! I've been real busy with work n' other stuff- but I promise I still love seeing your ideas! I can't promise I'll get to them, but I still enjoy seeing them :3

Taglist: @electro-omen @skeleton-stomper-xoxo @moopy-milk @pillow-14 @emotionallyunwellmedic

Masterlist

Optional Playlist!!:

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Not again.

It's always that damned static that manages to hum itself back into your ears; almost romantically. The idea sounds so beautifully comforting; lovingly pulling you away from reality, holding you in a close embrace.

It sounds so much nicer in thought than in practice.

But as much as you can't help but zone in and out, every sound around you feels so loud yet hushed at the same time. The buzzing of the lights, the crickets outside, at one point you think you may have heard someone walk past your room to go to the kitchen, but it was just one sound among many.

You sat alone in your bed, staring blankly ahead. You couldn't make out what you were staring at, nor did you care. - It was all just a blurry mess.

But you needed a distraction. You knew that if you were to be left alone it would only get worse.

And suddenly, you were standing in front of Medic's lab. You didn't remember the slow journey there. Maybe you've walked the path so many times that you went on autopilot? That doesn't matter right now.

You can hear footsteps from inside, and a soft, muffled voice. You can't quite make out the words, but with his tone, you can assume that he's talking with his birds.

You reach out for the door handle, hesitating. Did you really need to go bug him? You'll get over it, you're sure.

What exactly is it that your body needed? You shuffled through a short list of things. You ate earlier, drank water, you got an... okay amount of sleep. Well, more than usual- which is a start.

You just needed to be in someone's presence, you think.

But not just anyone, you're sure that someone like Scout would be too energetic, and Soldier would be too loud.

You always end up right back here, don't you? Maybe it's because you feel comfortable around him? You couldn't be too sure.

You lightly shake your head, your vision continuing to stay just a bit more blurry than usual. With the blurred shapes that you know spell "laboratory" in front of you, you finally crack the door open a smidge. Then some more.

Medic was standing in front of his doves, holding his bloody finger up to Archimedes. You're assuming he'd just given him a piece of meat or maybe he was petting him. In the middle of the action, Medic tilts his head your way, opening his mouth for a greeting-but deciding against it when he does a quick once-over of your tired form. Though, a gentle smile does make its way on his face.

You slowly hobble over to an empty counter, ignoring the chair stacked with a lab coat and papers, hopping up on said countertop. You stare ahead at the body on Medic's operating table. You haphazardly analysed it. It sat lifeless, it seems it'd been that way for a while now. Well, at least you knew you and him were truly alone.

You leaned back, letting your arms hold you up. Medic silently went back to his spot beside the corpse, picking up a scalpel with a soft smile. He began to hum. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find it comforting. The buzzing of the lights surely didn't leave, but they felt less overbearing. It was also late, and Medic rarely had all of the lights on at this time, only keeping the one main one he needed for seeing the corpse with.

He could tell something was up, but he didn't want to pry- though it was nagging at him. Perhaps Archimedes could tell, or maybe it was pure luck- or maybe Archimedes saw you as someone to care for too. Soon enough he was carefully flying towards you, gently landing on your shoulder and rubbing his head up against your cheek. It became tough to hold back a small smile, and you relaxed your shoulders. You gently brought up a knuckle to very carefully pet him with. Along with whispering little nothings- most of which Medic couldn't make out, only sometimes hearing his own name.

He couldn't help but admire the sight before him. It's a good thing that the corpse in front of him was indeed just that- a corpse- or else dropping the scalpel in it probably wouldn't have been too good.

"..Hey,"

He snaps back to reality, his face warming up just a bit at how you caught him dazed- one could even say with a somewhat lovestruck expression. You weren't about to point that out though, were you?

"Why'd you stop humming?"

He.. he was humming? No- well, yes he does tend to do that a lot while working to busy himself, but you noticed? His eyes widened a bit. It's not exactly a conscious thing he does- and it doesn't help that now that he's put on the spot he can't quite come up with anything to hum.

So, he carefully sets down whatever tool he was holding and quietly makes his way over to the music player. You recognized the first song as "Bust Your Kneecaps". You giggled at how fitting it seemed to suit him. The song was so calming but morbid at the same time. He carefully adjusts the volume and begins to sway his hips as he once again as he works on the corpse in front of him. The music player sounds a bit staticky, but the music was still enjoyable.

And now it was your turn to admire him.

He sure was skilled at what he did. Even with music playing and him obviously focused on the sounds surrounding him, he nonchalantly makes such precise and careful incisions. The soft smile on his face, and the way his hair was a bit messier than usual- a given after a long day of battles. You caught the way he'd absentmindedly twirl the scalpel between his fingers before deciding where to place his next incision. The blood coating his gloves glistened,- hey, that's odd, he very rarely wore his gloves while working. May he knew you'd-? No, no, you doubted it.

You noticed the way he had a small pep in his step whenever he had to walk around- it seems his boots may be newly polished, too. His voice when he hummed or softly sang any lyrics was always so comforting too. So much so that you'd absentmindedly join in on the humming at times if you knew the song.

Which is what happened. You only noticed that your soft hums could be heard as well when you caught the way his smile grew and he glanced over at you with hope in his eyes. It was always reassuring to him when you'd slowly warm back up in the subtlest of ways. Of course he knew when you weren't doing too well, and he was always glad to help you out. Honoured, even. It made his heart warm knowing that he was your go-to person to feel comfortable and safe again, even if it just meant being in the same room as him.

It means you willingly trust him. Yes of course, people trust him with their wounds in life or death situations- but they have no choice. Yet you come to him for the most mundane of things.

He must admit, he might be catching feelings.

And there wasn't any major event that caused him to realise this- no. Actually, it was something quite small that you'd done many times before.

This must've been roughly a month ago now; he was sat at his desk, his pencil going back and forth over some paperwork at ungodly hours of the morning. Everyone at the base should have been asleep, but he should have known better as mercenaries. None of you were normal- but you all still needed rest.

Which is why he was surprised when he heard soft footsteps slowly approach him. He recognized them, of course- had he not, he would have been reaching for his bonesaw.

Your presence alone relaxed him. But then he remembered how late it was, and was about the question you on why you might be up at this hour- damn hypocrite.

But before he could, there was a small plate with snacks being placed beside his paperwork, and a hand giving his closest shoulder a small, absentminded massage.

Then, you stood behind him, slowly snaked your arms around his shoulders and slowly leaned against him- almost all of your weight. You rested your chin on top of his head and you hadn't said a word.

This meant two things: one, that you had finally accepted that you simply couldn't tell him to get to bed because it would never work, to which you had adapted. Second, you were up at this ungodly time, and the first thing on your mind was taking care of him.

The thought of asking you why you were up at this hour left his mind, instead opting to let you watch whatever he was working on. Well, as much as you could with your eyes half-lidded, sometimes closing on you.

Every so often, he'd grab a piece of the snack you had brought him. One time, he brought a piece to your lips, and you lazily ate it with a hum. From that point on, he'd eat a piece, then offer you one. Then, because he was so entranced in his work, he had forgotten about the snack. Until you gently brought a piece in front of his mouth, still wanting to take care of him.

"...You don't have to do this, you know."

You gently shook your head, leaning a bit more on him and giving him a gentle squeeze, which was enough of an answer.

And yes, he did notice the way you'd begin to lose your balance due to how tired you were. He himself would lean just enough to keep you upright when he could tell you were beginning to doze off.

That was the first night you managed to get him to go to sleep early- and that was without a single word spoken by you.

That was the night he learned he may have feelings for you. He felt a growing urge to care for you; in subtle and non-subtle ways. Of course- the mercs could tell that he'd slowly become more of a pocket Medic, that much was obvious. But he'd also watch out for you in ways he knew how to. He'd make sure to give you a proper dose of anaesthesia, always be gentle when he did anything involving you, clean his lab and equipment thoroughly before even thinking about using any on you. He never thought too much of it, either.

You began living in his presence more often too, and he appreciated it so very much- he'd never brought it up, but he did care. There were a few times where you'd swing by and he'd offered you a snack; or if you were cold, he'd offer you his labcoat.

Then he realised that he became happy when you were happy.

He never thought of himself as an empath- far from it, really. But suddenly when your mood was down, he'd find himself alone in his lab, doing what he always does. It felt like he was on autopilot, and he felt dull. But when your mood was better and you were more excitable- or even simply happier overall, he'd hum more often, and he wouldn't notice the smile that seemed to constantly spread across his lips, nor the pep in his step.

Which brings us to the present moment. You two humming along to the song. It slowly drowned out, and a new song came on, You recognized it as: "The Red Means I Love you."

Medic's lips curled up a bit, and you gently kicked your feet, his seemingly happy mood becoming contagious. You were still somewhat zoned out, now accidentally staring off into space, which just so happened to be his boots this time. And suddenly, they were right in front of you, along with an open hand blocking the view- hey, when did he remove his glove? It just have been just now, as it wasn't bloody.

You looked up to him and recognized the expectant gaze he sent your way. That warm smile on his face was what convinced you to take his hand, and he carefully guided you around with small steps.

He hummed as he gently placed a hand on the small of your back, and held your hand in his as if it were made of glass.

Once you two began moving a little quicker, he began to sing. He started out in a very quiet tone as to not startle you;

"'Cause my insides are red,

And yours are too.

And the red on my face

Is matching you~"

The two of you continued to sway along to the music, slowly becoming more comfortable, but keeping the volume low. The two of you were tired but content. Then, the reoccurring line in the song came up, and the two of you sang it together in hushed voices;

"The red means I love you~"

You couldn't help the small smile that slowly played on your lips, his was contagious. He offered you a wide grin when he noticed you looking up at him, but it quickly went back to a small, calm, and reassuring one once your eyes were elsewhere. One could even say lovestruck. Paired with a gaze that was admiring every part of you, simply glad to be right there, right now, with you. He'd take lives to be able to do this at any given time- there was nothing more perfect to him than this.

You looked so perfect to him in this very moment. Even the dishevelled hair, darkened eye bags, and slumped shoulders were to be admired. Any imperfections of your skin he found absolutely stunning- they made you unique. But with his background, he's pretty sure that telling you you had fascinating skin wouldn't come off the way he'd hoped- so he'd keep that to himself.

He longed to gently card his fingers through your messy hair, run his finger from your hair to behind your ear, along your jaw and finally tilt your chin up and admire your eyes with the warmest, most loving smile he's ever worn. To pull you a bit closer with the hand that was still resting against the small of your back, with barely any force to be noticeable.

And then he'd lean down, analyse your face for whatever emotions you may be feeling and go from there.

Now, he wasn't a shy man.

So that's what he did.

And that's where the two of you now stand.

After analysing your emotions, checking for any sort of discomfort- he tilted your chin up just enough for you and him to meet halfway.

It was a small kiss- short, sweet and loving. It could even be considered a small peck. There was nothing more to be added, enough was said- even if the only words spoken aloud tonight were mostly just lyrics.

You stood a little stunned, but that was only because you weren't quite ready to fully comprehend what had just happened.

Medic on the other hand was already pulling you into a gentle hug that had the both of you calmly swaying back and forth as he played with your hair. He gave you a small kiss on the crown of your head as you finally relaxed into him, and allowed your hands to rest on his back. Barely audible, he muttered;

"I love you, liebchen."

A gentle squeeze was offered that reassured him that you felt the same way, and you could feel his smile widen before opting to rest his chin on your head, and gently rest his hand on the back of your neck, caressing the base of it with his thumb as the two of you continued to sway together.

He looked forward to more nights like this. Nothing extravagant, just you and him, comfortable in eachother's loving presence.

.

.

.

Nov.10.23

[demiesworld]

sunday mornings - [husband!miguel x blackwife!reader]

synopsis: just a domesticated miguel's sunday routine with his gorgeous black wife.

contents: sfw, suggestive theme, brief sex part but it is not graphically written, just fluffy stuff

notes: some use of spanish is used in this. my spanish is not very good, so if there is any grammatical errors please let me know. i wrote this bc i saw a lot of miguel x black reader fics that have smut in them, and rarely did i see some domestic or fluff with miguel and a black reader. miguel is not spiderman in this, he does not have any mutated abilities or powers. miguel is in his early 30s and reader is in their late 20s.

The weekends are always an anticipated time for Miguel. During the weekdays he would be working diligently in the confines of a cold laboratory. He worked the typical 8 to 5 as a bioengineer, pulling in money to support him and his lovely wife. On Saturdays, Miguel would spend them freely doing whatever errands or activities he couldn't do over the weekday. However on Sundays, there was a routine that him and his wife set in stone for them.

It starts off with Miguel waking up to the aromatic sweet smell of pancakes and a California king-sized bed with an empty spot beside him. The curtains and blinds in their bedroom are closed, yet the tell-tell signs of sunlight is evident from the peeks of rays. His sleepy brown eyes look at the wall clock and reads the time as five past 8 in the morning. Which was normal for his wife to be cooking their breakfast at a time like this on Sunday.

The man lifts himself out of bed, and doesn't leave the bedroom till after he's fixed up the bedsheets and laid the pillows back into place in a neat order. As he crosses the threshold of the door he shuts off the ceiling fan with a flick of his fingers flipping the switch down. Miguel runs his thick long fingers through his dark brown bed head hair as he walked through the hallway. The walls were decorated with family pictures, their wedding ceremony, and paintings of abstract African art.

As he got closer to the kitchen, he could hear the faint sound of the R&B song "Weak" by SWV playing from the bluetooth speaker. Accompanied by that was the sizzling of bacon cooking on the stove and the smell of that lingering in the air. Miguel came upon the kitchen entryway and he stood there leaning against the frame just to observe you preparing breakfast.

You were standing at the flat ceramic-top stove, flipping pancakes on a pan while keeping a watchful eye on your bacon. Your husband eyes your attire: a cream satin robe that ended above your knees and a matching color bonnet on your head. Your face free of any makeup, and you were just in your natural state. You looked beautiful as the day he first met you.

Miguel leans off of the frame and makes his way over to you. While you were in the midst of cooking, you felt strong arms and a firm chest press against your back. Large hands wrapped around your stomach, intertwining their fingers in a way to prevent from you escaping. As if you would ever do that. His supple lips attached themselves to the junction of your neck and collarbone just as a content sigh emit from him. A gentle and heart-warming kiss is what left goosebumps on your brown skin. A genuine, happy smile followed.

"Hmm... buenos días mi corazón." He whispers to you, and rests his chin on your shoulder to watch you cook. "Qué tenemos para breakfast?"

You daintily flip over a pancake while responding to him, "You are having oatmeal with apples, cinnamon, and honey. I am going to have pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs."

Miguel pouts at the meal he was going to be eating, "Do I have to eat that mi corazón? It's so bland."

"Hey, the doctor said your cholesterol levels were high Miguel and that you need to cut back on sodium. You wanna have a heart attack or do you wanna live to see 60?"

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't argue with your factual rebuttal. "Okay, I get it." His lips kiss your cheek before he lets you go and takes a seat at the dining table. Your gentle voice calls from the kitchen, "I love you Miguel."

"Te quiero tambien, Y/N."

Once you were finished cooking breakfast for you and your husband you set out the plates. First you placed your plate of scrambled eggs, two pancakes, and three strips of bacon onto the tablemat. Then you served Miguel with his bowl of oatmeal coupled with four boiled eggs and his orange juice. You let out an amused chuckle when you saw the pout on his lips upon seeing his meal. Your lips kiss his temple before you go over to sit at your designated seat.

"It's only for a month, papi, don't worry too much."

Together you both ate breakfast and discussed over plans for your Sunday. You told Miguel that after church services you were to be a teacher's substitute for the children so you wouldn't make it home until a little after 12. Miguel said he was fine with that since he would be helping out one of your elderly neighbors with mowing his lawn today due to the guy's back being hurt. You also mentioned to him that you needed to do chores around the house. He reminded you that you were to have Sunday dinner with his parents tonight at their place.

"As long as you're not going to be drunk with your dad then we can do that." You say to him.

"I won't drink with my father, cariño." He promises.

After breakfast was over the two of you started to get dressed for church. You did your makeup in your shared bathroom, going for a soft glam look. You took off your bonnet and fixed up the Senegalese twists you had in your head. You laid down your baby hairs, massaged oil onto your scalp and conditioned your hair. When you were finished doing that you went on to get dressed. Out from your private closet you pulled out a long sleeve mustard yellow maxi dress and slid on sandals. Then you accessorized with gold bracelet, gold heart necklace and gold diamond tear-drop earrings.

You came out of your bedroom and walked into the foyer where Miguel was standing there waiting for you. He was wearing the dark brown two piece suit you had picked out from him the night before. A mustard yellow tie and handkerchief stood out. Your husband cleaned up nice.

His eyes met yours when he heard you walking down the hall and smiled lovingly at you. "Dios mío... Te ves hermosa en ese vestido mami." He gently grabbed a hold of your hand and spun you around just to get a glimpse of your butt. "I don't think I wanna go to church today now."

You giggle and swat him in the chest playfully. "Damn Miguel, you horny dog, we're not skipping out on church again for that. Maybe when we get home this afternoon..." You trailed off letting him know that you were insinuating it could happen.

After Miguel gave you another twirl then a slap on the ass you two set off for church. There the two of you sat in the middle section of the chapel. Some folks came up to you greeting you both, and conversated about what the preacher was going to say today. You both got many compliments on your matching outfits. Which to you wasn't a surprise as you both wore matching outfits on Sunday mornings with similar colors. You remember from last year how the two of you wore red, white and green colors in celebration of Christmas during a service.

The service held felt long despite it lasting an hour and a few minutes over time. You and Miguel did your donations to the church. You both separately put in $50 into the hat that went around the congregation. You sang the songs that the choir was singing and praised every time the preacher talked about the Lord. By the time it was time to leave you looked at Miguel and told him to not pick you up since you had a ride back home after the class with the Sunday school children. You gave him a kiss good-bye then went on about your day teaching.

Miguel went home and changed out from his church clothes to a loose grey tank top, khaki cargo shorts and sneakers. He went over to the neighbor's home and let them know that he was going to mow their lawn for them before doing it. The old man neighbor was thankful for Miguel, even offered him money, but your husband politely refused. To him kind acts of service shouldn't be paid for with money but with kindness in return.

At around 12 you were just arriving home from church and Miguel had just finished up with mowing the neighbor's grass. He greeted you at the door kissing your lips tenderly and his hands caressing your hips. You inwardly laughed as you weren't even a minute into being home when your husband started kissing you and feeling you up in the foyer.

"Papi, I haven't been home for five minutes!" You squealed when he carried you up off the ground and pressed your back against the wall.

Your husband smirks on your lips and replies, "You're the one who said we could do it after church."

He was right you did say that to him this morning. You threaded your manicured fingers through his hair, a soft moan slipping past your glossed lips and into his own.

"Hmm, Miguel, if you really want it we gotta go to the room." You say breathlessly in between the passionate kisses he was giving you.

Miguel carries you into the bedroom and lays you on the bed gracefully. Once you two have rid each other of one another's clothes and jewelry pieces you both engage in steamy coitus. Hands caressing bodies, lips sucking on flesh, and sweat sticking to skin. A song of low grunts, shrill pleased moans, and heavy rushed pants resonated in the bedroom. The loud pounding of skin sounded like a drum in the background and creaking of the bed frame. It all escalated into an unsteady rhythm then came to an abrupt halt once you both met your ending.

The two of you laid in the rumpled bedsheets just holding each other in the aftermath. Basking in one another's glow. You tilt your head up to look at your husband and then kiss the underside of his sharp jawbone.

"We can't stay in bed too long, papi. I still got chores to do and we have dinner with your family tonight."

Miguel let out a tired sigh, "Just five more minutes cariño."

You move to get out of the bed, "Uh-uh, Miguel we gotta get moving, come on now." You pull yourself out of the bed and turn to your naked husband still laying on the bed. You wave your hand, "Come on, get the bed sheets changed and let's take a shower."

"I love you."

You pause when he says those words, but your face softens when you feel butterflies in your stomach. The words, "I love you too." fall out of your mouth when you respond. After saying that you walk out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, Miguel could hear your voice shouting, "You better be getting out of that bed and changing them sheets!"

Miguel shakes his head followed by a roll of his eyes. Though he does as he is told. He changes the messed up bedsheets, putting the old one into the laundry room and then replacing it with clean fresh ones. As soon as he was done he met with you in the shower and you both washed together.

Yes this was Miguel's Sunday routine. Going to church with his gorgeous wife, helping out with the chores, and attending Sunday family dinners with her family or his family once a week. It was the one day of the 7-day week that Miguel looked forward to. And he wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

notes: slowly trying to get out of my writer's block slump. current fixation is fucking miguel o'hara. god knew not to make that man real bc he will have everybody and their mama on his dick. anyways lmk what you think of this fluffy piece! (つ ͡ꈍ ͜ʖ̫ ͡ꈍ )

© 2023 demiesworld please do not repost on any other website without permission. do not plagiarize. any similarities in this fic is purely coincidental.

[princesssarisa]

Food Network's Halloween Baking Championship is a guilty pleasure of mine at this time this year.

For the first five seasons of the show, there was no overreaching theme besides Halloween. But ever since 2020, each season has had its own specific theme, which inspires the decor in the kitchen and which all the themes of the baking competitions tie into.

For anyone who also watches this show, I'd like to know: which season's theme has been your favorite so far? Or if you don't watch it, which theme sounds best for a Halloween baking competition?

[beechersnope]

short preview of a thing that's in itself a small part of a longer thing

***

They'd decided to do fully matching costumes this year instead of contrasting costumes with a similar theme. Lando had splurged on them, hiring someone on Etsy to handmake shimmering metallic bodysuits with glow-in-the-dark circuitry and fully functional LED buttons that littered the colored panels of both the front and back of the suit, along the breastplate and hips, down each arm, and along the length of the spine. The only difference between the two is the color: Lando’s bodysuit is a pearlescent fuchsia while Oscar’s is a shimmering teal.

The silvery face paint and white iris contact lenses pushes it over the top—in Oscar’s opinion, Lando has gone so far that even with the skintight bodysuits, they are firmly in the realm of scary versus sexy.

“I don’t think you’re going to get laid this year,” Oscar tells Lando honestly, turning to find a matching cyborg face staring back at her.

“There’s a zipper in the crotch,” Lando counters, the implication going miles over her head. “Easy access. I planned ahead.”

Oscar just turns back to Lando’s vanity and lets out a soft sigh.

The party is in full swing by the time they arrive at Daniel’s mountainside—well, Oscar still doesn’t like calling it a mansion, but calling it a McMansion seems worse, even if that’s exactly what it is. Regardless, they have to park halfway down the narrow street at the very end of a line of cars that spills out of Daniel’s already outrageously expansive driveway.

Oscar eyes Lando’s beat-up Toyota with a dubious frown, slightly worried that the parking brake won’t hold its own against a seven-percent incline.

Lando doesn’t seem similarly concerned, locking the doors with a carefree whistle and then tossing her keys as well as both their cellphones into her purse. Their bodysuits might have crotch access, but they sure as hell don’t have pockets.

By the time they ascend the foothill Daniel’s house sits atop, where it overlooks the tiny city in the valley below, Oscar is somehow sweating from exertion and yet freezing all at the same time.

The front door is wide open, and inside, the soft orange overhead lights that Oscar remembers from her previous visits have all been switched out with black light bulbs instead. The décor is different, too. It looks like Daniel plundered an entire warehouse full of Halloween kitsch to achieve the effect he’s gone for, which seems to be turning his entire house into a walk-through haunted house experience.

Oscar follows Lando closely as they move from the foyer—which has ghoulish portraits that shift between scenes, reminiscent of the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland—into the living room—which is now a museum of cryptid taxidermy, around which partygoers converse with glowing concoctions in their hands, though Oscar spies more than one couple with their hands down each other’s pants as she and Lando traverse the room.

They finally find Daniel in the kitchen: presently, a mad scientist’s laboratory, complete with bubbling potions and blinking machinery lining the walls. And of course, Daniel, as the host and de facto bartender, is dressed as none other than the mad scientist himself.

He looks elated when he glances up to find Lando and Oscar standing in front of him at the island in the middle of the room after waiting for the half-dozen people in front of them to be served first.

“Can I get you ladies something to drink?” he asks with a broad grin. “I don’t mean to brag, but I make a mean mojito.”

Oscar’s heart jumps a beat. It’s impossible to tell from Daniel’s expression or tone whether he meant to use the phrase they agreed upon previously, but just in case he had— “Yes,” Oscar says emphatically as she scoots a bit closer to the bar. “I’d love something to drink.” She’s aware of Lando giving her a strange look, but Oscar ignores it, focused entirely on the brief flash of recognition that crosses Daniel’s face. Even if he hadn’t intended to ask her permission, he now knows he has it.

[artnrandomness]

Egghog and the Hungry Hero

Know that this is NOT canon to the OG Hungry Hero story and is just a fanmade thing I made with my Sonic.exe OC, Egghog. Hungry Hero belongs to @sonicexelle-junkary 

Sonic woke up, all groggy and dizzy. He didn't know where the hell he was. All he remembered was that he was going to eat Shadow after killing him. In his mind, he HAD to pay for just showing up and ruining his plans after all. But then he was hit very hard in the head. Getting his head together, the hedgehog slowly but steadily got up. As he observed his surroundings, he noticed that they look and feel familiar, and yet unfamiliar at the same time. So he decided to look around. As he did, he noticed just how awfully quiet it was, with the sounds of the steps from his shoes being the only things breaking the silence.

“Just where AM I?” asked the Hungry Hero to himself. He then looked at the empty rooms. “And where is everyone here?”

At every room he looked at through their respective locked down doors, Sonic noticed a strange theme with them: each room was mostly a bunch of laboratories, some for experiments, others for research, a few for many needs that the blue hedgehog himself was unfamiliar with.

“Geez! Whoever runs this place must´ve been PRETTY prepared to do all kinds of horrible science.” Sonic thought. Then his stomach growled.

“Shoot! I'm starving. …Oh well, might as well find something… or someone to eat while I'm here.” He then ran down the hallway.

Sonic underestimated just how BIG the hallway was, considering the amount of doors, windows and vaults he saw whilst running. He was starting to get tired and even more hungry, until he found the kitchen. “ABOUT TIME!” is what he said with jubilee upon entering. He was quite surprised to find multiple fridges. This led him to believe that either the owner of this strange building was a hungry sort like him or was just sorting food for their friends, IF they even had friends of course. 

When he tried to open the fridges, they were all locked with codes, all except the normal looking fridge, where there was normal food. While he was disappointed that there were no organs or flesh, at least he wasn't against eating normal food. After a few minutes, he was satisfied. But then, he felt sleepy until he gently fell to the ground and slept.

Then, someone entered the kitchen. As the individual looked down at the sleeping hedgehog, he smiled.

“Perfect. Time to bring you to your room.”

======================================================================

“Ugh…” Sonic began to wake up, all woozy like last time. But when he came to, he realized he was strapped in a chair, with no way to get out. “WHAT THE-?!” He tried to pull himself out, yet couldn´t and had already tired himself out.

He then turned his attention to the equipment that surrounded him. It consisted of tubes, containers, sharp objects, claws, and he even had a strange helmet on his head connected to a big menacing machine. Sighing in frustration, he tried to think about how to escape. But then, a voice through a box of speakers that moved towards him was heard.

“Greetings, hedgehog. You woke up just in time.” the voice greeted.

That voice. It sounded strange and creepy to him, yet oddly familiar in many ways. It sounded like Eggman, yet it also sounded… younger, almost as if it sounded like… like… who else does this guy sound familiar with?

“Uh… h-hello there, creepy, yet confusing voice?” Sonic greeted. “Uh… who are you? Are you Eggman in disguise or something?”

The voice chuckled. “That you´ll find out very soon. But what I can confirm is that I´m NOT Eggman. Well… not exactly… So first, I´d like to give a tour of the rest of my base of operations.”

“Wait… there was more than just a bunch of labs and mysterious doors?”

“Indeed. You´ll be surprised with what else my base has in store. Allow this speaker device here in front of you to push you to my office, so that we could discuss some more… interesting subjects.”

The moving speaker box then grew mechanical arms, jumped behind Sonic and began pulling the chair the hedgehog was strapped in along with the big menacing machine. “Oh! O-Okay…” was Sonic´s only response.

Exiting what apparently was one of the labs, all Sonic could do was turn left and right to see the stuff that was on both sides of the hallway.

“So… mysterious voice… what's with all the labs?” The blue blur asked.

“Simple!” the voice responded. “I´m an… inventor of sorts, along with being a scientist and researcher on MANY areas: nature, lifeforms, such as organic, mutated or biorganic, alien, space, time, magical properties, every single science you can possibly think of, even the most ridiculous sounding ones.”

The speaker then turns right to a slightly smaller hallway, where a big beefy and expensive door begins to open.

“But my expertise, hedgehog, is my work on the science… of the multiverse!” As the door finished opening, the hallway Sonic now entered was that of a multitude of prison cells. But the most shocking part about it was the amount of lookalikes of Sonic himself and his former and dead friends, big and small, strong or weak, good or evil, smart or dumb, brave or scared, sane or insane, every version of equal and opposite you could possibly imagine.

Now if Sonic was his pre-cannibalistic self, he would’ve been saddened by this sight, possibly angry and willing to save everyone in the cells he could and maybe offer the evil ones a chance of redemption and freedom. But instead, he was impressed with what prisoners were behind those cells, even ones that either looked tasty to him or scared him a little. He was starting to grow bored again, hungry for the second time even. But eventually, after going through another door, he saw it. The door to his “working office” as the sign called it.

When entering the building, Sonic got to quickly look around the room. He noticed it was full of screens, especially a big one connected to a massive computer. There were even shelves full of books and modern versions of what looked like to be disks and VHS tapes. But when he then turned his attention to the front, where he was greeted with the individual that tied him up in the chair he was sitting on, his back turned on him while sitting in his own, even bigger chair.

“Hello there.” the individual greeted, while putting away the phone he used to talk through the speaker bot. “Nice to have you here in my office.”

“Hey there…” Sonic said. “Um, shouldn't you turn towards me? It's rude to turn your back on someone, you know.”

“In due time. You WILL see who I am, but for the time being, it's best to keep it a mystery until the time is right. I don't want to spoil the surprise. And like I said, I brought you here to talk about more interesting subjects.”

“Really? …What kind of subjects?”

“Things like, I don´t know, favorite hobbies, your friends, your enemies, your abilities… your favorite food, perhaps?”

Sonic felt a bit uncomfortable with the last 2 words, strangely enough. But nevertheless, he answered. “Um… Well, I do like running as my favorite hobby. Not sure how many friends I have left, but I do know an Echidna named Knuckles, alongside a detective trio named the Chaotix. My enemy is one I mistook you for, that being Eggman, but I don't know what the hell's going on with him right now. My main ability is to be the fastest thing alive, but I can also dash and jump.”

“And what of your favorite food, hedgehog?”

“...Well. …Um… It's good old fashioned chilidogs… Man, those things are so good.”

“...hmmmm… anything else besides that?”

“...Well… I´m recently trying out a new diet on more… fresh food.”

“...I see… And by fresh, do you mean… fruits… vegetables… or is it something along the lines of… fresh meat? As in Mobian meat?”

Sonic's eyes were widened in shock. He couldn't believe that this mystery guy knew of him as a cannibal. Just HOW?!

The individual chuckled in sinister joy. “That's right, hedgehog. I know you´re a cannibal. No point hiding it now. I even saw you about to eat the arm of an almost exact copy of you before I knocked you out and brought you here. …I bet you even enjoy the people you have eaten, do you?”

Sonic, slowly but surely, was starting to feel angry that, whoever this guy was, saw him eating many people AND had interrupted his meal in the form of Shadow. With a crazed smile and look on his face, he began to laugh. “Buddy! I'll admit: I LOVE eating all those Mobians. The meat from their intestines, livers and other organs, all juicy from the blood fresh out of their skin. It's ‘MMMM’… walking food made by heaven itself… Now, I don´t who the FUCK you are or who you THINK you are, but let me tell you something, asshat: when I get out of this chair, you´re gonna regret ever interrupting me on my meal!”

A greatly huge silence yawned in the office after Sonic screamed out his threat. But the hedgehog began to feel his blood quickly run cold as the yawning silence came over him, even more so when he looked at the back of the individual who captured him, the aforementioned individual breaking the silence, yet keeping the same blood-chilling theme the silence he broke had.

“I heard all the threats such as that one before, hedgehog. You don't even scare me.” the individual said. “I even know every curse word the vocabulary has to offer.” “H-Heh! You think you do.” Sonic said. “You don't even know me other than my diet!”

“Actually, I DO.” said the individual. “I know all the friends you ate and killed: Shadow, in a fit of rage, his team, Rouge and Omega, for the fun of it, Silver, for knowing too much about your diet, a few random people here and there, Rookie, due to hunger starting to get used to all the Mobians you eat, and poor Cream, who, let's just say was in the way. Her mother, Vanilla, was worried sick about her daughter. There's also Tails. Poor kid. Looked up to you like a hero, yet died due to fear of who you´ve now become.”

Sonic, in response to the individual mentioning Tails, tried to lunge towards him, forgetting he was still strapped to the chair he was on. “DON'T. MENTION. MY LITTLE. BUDDY!” He shouted in a burst of anger. “Keep his DAMN name out of your FUCKING MOUTH!!”

Ignoring Sonic´s threat, the individual continued. “But I know more than just your friends, hedgehog. I know that you´ve tried to hide your victims, yet was caught doing so.” He stated. “I know that you salivate every time you just look at the individual you want to eat so badly. I even know that your diet began on Lost Hex.”

Sonic´s demeanor went from crazed and angry to surprised and shocked. He didn't even suspect that this guy was ACTUALLY there when he ate what he thought was a chilidog back at Lost Hex. He even felt a bit nervous when he realized that this guy actually knew about when and where his diet began and watched him on it, hidden in plain sight, until when he killed Shadow.

Starting to sweat, the blue blur asked. “...Who… W-Who ARE you?”

The individual, at first, was silent. But then, he began to laugh. As he continued laughing, his laughter went straight up into loud, insane, menacingly evil cackling. With each laugh, the atmosphere grew darker and scarier, even for Sonic. A minute later, he finished laughing, sighing in relief. “Well, well…” the individual said in a frightening tone. “Time to reveal my identity.” 

Finally turning his chair around to face Sonic, the individual grinned. As for the said hedgehog, he gasped in complete shock, not able to believe who the hell he was talking to all this time. The individual was a version of Sonic. But he was very different. The blue color on his quills was almost completely desaturated into a white-like color, his quills were like messy hair, he had big, messy, bushy eyebrows, wore fingerless gloves, a black, gold and red trench coat and big black and red boots, had markings on his body that resembled Eggman´s clothes and his eyes were black with red glowing pupils. And the worst part: he had Eggman´s signature smile, but bigger, scarier and more toothy. He was like a version of Sonic who had his and Eggman´s attributes combined into a singular being.

“Surprise!” The scary Sonic said before laughing.

“W-WHAT?! WHAT EVEN?!- WHO or WHAT even ARE you?!” Sonic exclaimed in both confusion and fear.

“You may call me Egghog.” ‘Egghog’ answered. “The combined minds of Sonic and Eggman into one singular body, made for leading an army of dangerous robotic minions and for carrying on the unstoppable work of multiversal genocide!”

Sonic could not believe what he just heard, and just realized he was face-to-face with a version of him capable of mass destruction, even worse than Eggman and his entire robot army. He didn't even know if he was even edible or worth fighting, but he didn't care considering the situation he was in.

“H-How did you even become… THIS?!” Sonic asked.

“Considering that you are impatient, being both a cannibal AND the fastest thing alive, allow me to give you the short version of my story.” Egghog said. “In MY world, me and Eggman were once family. He began his work of genocide, I went and killed him, had absorved his blood after killing him, thanks to the doctor reverse-engineering his own blood to enter my body should he be dead by MY hand, finally understood why Eggman was the way he was and continued his work of genocide throughout the multiverse, even as of today.”

“THAT was the short version?!”

“...Yes. …I would've given you the longer version, yet chose not to.”

“Good! Cause I do NOT wanna know that version!”

“Suit yourself. Now that you know my identity, it's time that you answer a question for me.”

“What?!” Sonic said rudely. “What else do you wanna know about me?! You already know a LOT!”

Ignoring Sonic´s rudeness, Egghog smiled and asked “Are you really who you say you are?”

Sonic was completely thrown off by this question. “Uh- W-What?” he asked.

“Are you REALLY Sonic the Hedgehog?” Egghog asked again with clarity.

Sonic felt offended by this question. “What kind of dumbass question is that?” he answered. “Of course I am who I say I am. I AM Sonic the Hedgehog!”

“Is that so?” Egghog asked. “Then tell me: Why do you claim to have never even had the title of “hero” in the beginning? Why do you act like everyone who knows the misdeeds they´ve done, yet doesn't care about suffering the consequences? How come you no longer wish for everyone to be free?”   

Sonic knew the answers to all of those questions, yet a part of him doubts it. A small part that felt big. He tried to form an answer out of his mouth, yet couldn´t. This didn't feel right. At least, to his more dominant cannibal side.

“Because here's the thing: Sonic will always claim to be a hero.” Egghog answered for who he doesn't see as Sonic. “Whenever he does something wrong, he´ll always do everything to make up for it. He cares for his friends and wishes to redeem his enemies by giving them a second chance, alongside having the desire for everyone to have the right to be free.”

“Sonic” didn't know what to say about all that Egghog had said, and stayed silent, because he didn't have an answer.

“YOU on the other hand…” Egghog continued. “...Besides all the things I mentioned about your actions and how Sonic does the exact opposite, you are sloppy in hiding the victims you´ve eaten. You care for nobody and nothing but yourself and food, to the point where, no matter how many times you get sick eating people RAW, you insist on eating it that way because of the taste. You even enjoy taking the lives of those you've consumed; not even killing and eating a child of all people has stopped you. You are so excited about eating people that just the mere sight of it makes you drool and salivate. You don't even restrain yourself, either by accident or on purpose. All of these things you did, Sonic would NEVER do, even if being turned into a cannibal like you. Hence why I don't believe you are who you claim yourself to be.”

The Hungry Hero would´ve been surprised with how much Eggman had pointed out about his actions if he wasn't prepared to correct the Sonic-turned-Eggman on a few aspects.

“You know, the part where you said that I care only for myself and food is NOT true!” Sonic said. “I cared about Tails and still did even when he died. I even restrained myself from eating him when he was still alive. I may not regret eating anybody else, but if there's one thing I would regret, it would be eating Tails. I´m glad I didn´t eat him, cause if I did, I would NEVER forgive myself!”    

Egghog chuckled at that “correction”. “That's what you think, hedgehog.” he began to explain. “But, despite it being true that you have not eaten the fox, and shown some surprising restraint around him, you would only keep his literal heart close… until it rots away. Deep down, you only cared about his insides, and the possibility of how delicious they would´ve been. And if there was ANY voice in your head that told you that you only think with your stomach, that voice would be more than correct.”

Once again, “Sonic'' tried to lunge at Egghog, but was once again reminded that he was strapped down. ''STOP! SAYING! LIES!” the hedgehog said. “I TOLD YOU NOT TO MENTION MY LITTLE BUDDY! I WILL GUT YOU UNTIL THERE'S NOTHING LEFT OF YOU, YOU LYING LITTLE SHIT!!”

It was then when Egghog frowned. This the strapped hedgehog noticed. He had forgotten how scary the trench coat wearing hedgehog can be. However, he's gonna get a taste of how people that make him frown were treated afterwards.

“I´ve been called MANY things and names before, hedgehog.” The frowning hedgehog said. “I´ve been called, and been known by many, as fast, strong, intelligent, merciless, heartless, destroyer, monster and so forth…” He then walks towards Sonic, grabs the blue blur by the head and gets close to his face in a fit of unseen rage. “...but a LIAR... is NOT. One of them! I may commit acts of genocide, but at least I don´t eat my victims… unlike YOU. What I TELL you is the truth.” 

He then tosses the hedgehog's head back and walks a few steps away, his back turned on the strapped hedgehog, who had now gotten a taste of Egghog´s anger.

“Anyway…” he then continued sinisterly. “With the evidence that proves you´re not Sonic all laid out, one question remains: who ARE you?” He then regained his creepy smile. “Fortunately, I know the answer.”

“Huh?”

“You being sloppy in hiding your victims, being too impatient to eat, caring only for food and its taste, killing off people who know of your diet to prevent them from spreading the word. It all makes sense. You are not Sonic… but rather… his very appetite, twisted and tainted by cannibalism the very moment you´ve gained a mind of your own and grew powerful enough to use Sonic´s body as your own.”

His eyes were widened. His eyebrows were raised as high as they could go. He couldn't believe what he just heard. What kind of answer was THAT? “Wh-? …W-What kind of fucked up answer is that, EggNOG?” He then began to laugh hysterically. “You clearly lost your mind!”

Egghog frowned again in response to the insult he was just given and sighed. “...I´ll pretend you didn´t just insult me there, hedgehog…” he said. His smile then came back. “But I haven't “lost my mind”. Quite the opposite, in fact. And I'm gonna take us on a trip down old memory lane to prove my point.”

“Oh really? What memories do I even have that “prove your point”?” Sonic asked.

“Many!” Egghog answered. “Let´s first go back to when you… told Shadow you don't care about how bad your actions were, that you could do whatever you want and that no one could stop you, not even Tails.”

The strapped hedgehog's eyes widened as that memory came back to him. He did remember saying that to Shadow while he was incapacitated.

“You see, SONIC asked himself, after you mentioned Tails, as to why he did what YOU did, right there in that brief moment of broken control, before you regained it by answering “because YOU wanted to”.” The blue blur was silent towards what Egghog said, as all he could do was listen as to what else he had to say.

“Now let's go back to the moment where…hmm… OH! Where you were caught by Shadow and Tails, with blood on your hands and all. When the young fox approached you before zapping you, you stated that whatever speech you thought he had about how eating people was bad would not work on you. Well, it wouldn't work on YOU, but it would on Sonic, because like I said about him, Sonic would make up for any mistake he´d make.”

The blue blur´s eyebrows burrowed as that memory also came back to him.

“Now how about the time a voice in your head told you that you only cared what was inside your “little buddy” and not the fox himself, or when you repeatedly told people you were not their ´hero´, or how you don´t regret everything you´ve done? I'm sure you remember all that, now do you?” Egghog wasn't kidding when he said he wasn't a liar. He DID remember all that, and remembering it all made him sweat like mad.

“Thought so. You already know what I said about Sonic, so I won't repeat it. but everything he understood, YOU don't even understand. After all, how COULD you? You´re just his appetite. The only thing you understand is EATING.” A part of the Hungry Hero couldn't help but agree.

“Do you know what's the driving force, nor matter how big or small, of everyone's appetite?” Egghog asked. The strapped hedgehog turned in scared curiosity. The answer the Sonic-turned-Eggman gave was “Gluttony.”

He then chuckled. “And here's the funny thing about gluttony…” he began explaining. “...those under it´s complete control care about nobody but themselves and nothing but food. They don't care if the food they want is bad for them or makes them sick. They´ll do anything to eat it, all because of the taste. Even the mere sight of it is enough to drive them mad with excitable hunger. All those factors fit the hungriest of creatures to ever exist, no matter what universe they come from, including cannibals. And unfortunately, “Hungry Hero”, YOU are no exception.” 

“...I… I-I…” The blue blur stammered.

“This all fits especially when you began your diet. You know, the day Sonic opened that crate back at Lost Hex… the very moment you gained a mind of your own.” Whatever it was, something within the strapped hedgehog made him feel shocked when hearing about that memory again.

“The moment he ate that “chillidog” moment you slowly, but surely, gained control of Sonic, slowly tainting his mind while he panicked about the mistake he made, luring him back to the place where you started to gain power.” The blue blur started to shake like a coward, frozen in fear, but not in hearing, as Egghog continued.

“You know the rest, hedgehog, but I´ll tell you all of it in case you start forgetting. When Sonic realized that he came back to Lost Hex, he wisely thought of going back, until YOU, as a voice in his head, told to “make sure he was right” about what he saw.” The strapped hedgehog froze at hearing this.

“That's what drove him to pick up that arm out of that crate… and then you told him, nonstop, to “do it”. To eat the arm. Thus sealing Sonic´s fate, giving you full control of his body, turning him into the cannibal you are now.”

At first, there was no response from the blue blur. But a few seconds later, his body began to shake and tears started to flow out of his eyes as he started crying. Looking out in space, something within the Hungry Hero, or rather, someone, was the one who was crying, as if he regretted what he did. Egghog knew who that person was, and laughed in joy.

“Those tears…” he observed. “That's definitely Sonic.” He then used a teleporter to teleport himself and the hedgehog to a big laboratory. “I knew he was still in there.” He then pressed a button. “And JUST in time, too.”

The big menacing machine strapped to the helmet in Sonic's head from earlier began to activate. As electricity zapped around it and lights and tubes began to glow, Sonic turned around frightenedly at his surroundings.

“W-Wha?! WHAT IS?!-” Sonic said.

“Easy now, Sonic.” Egghog reassured Sonic. “This machine will make you regain full control of yourself, while reducing your tainted appetite back to the way it was before you ate what was in that crate in Lost Hex.”

Looking at the big machine behind him as clearly as he could, a broken Sonic began to panic, all while tears still dropped from his eyes. "What?! N-NO! NONONO! NO!!” he screamed.

Egghog ignored his screaming while he finished typing codes in the big laboratory´s computer, connected to the machine. When he finished, he turned back to Sonic and said “It WILL be painful, sure, but at the very least, you´ll no longer be a cannibal after this.” He said. He then charged the machine, activating the helmet on Sonic's head. “And as for YOU, Hungry Hero, and yes, I´m talking to you, your time of using Sonic´s body as your own… has COME. To an END!” He then flips a switch, activating the machine.

The machine begins to shock the blue blur, causing him to scream in pain and agony, shocking him to the point where his skeleton could be seen. Every quick shock the machine gave Sonic caused the laboratory to flicker between light and darkness, to the point where the flickering even shined across the hallways, even to the prison cells. Egghog watched as it happened with a smile. He then pulled a lever, luring down another machine; a vacuum of sorts, with electrifying tridents spread out on the front and glowing tubes filled with what was the energy of the multiverse, powering the strange vacuum. 

As it lowered close to Sonic's stomach, it began to shock it with red lightning bolts, using it´s tridents. The bolts caused his gut to expand and move, as if a creature was inside it, trying to free itself. Then, with one big and powerful red ZAP, his stomach burst open, gushing out the blood, organs and bones of everyone the Hungry Hero had eaten into the vacuum, like a laser that started to fire. The screens and lights of the laboratory began to flicker as this happened, while Egghog laughed like a madman in victory. As that happened, Sonic began to warp in appearance, as he shifted from many versions of himself, from a tall Sonic that wore a bandana and bandages, to a smaller, more realistic one, before returning to his original appearance.

As he did, all the people that Sonic had eaten finally came out of his stomach and into the vacuum, causing the big electricity machine to power down, thus causing Sonic to stop screaming and lay dead. However, after the machine powered down, the vacuum’s lightning bolts went from red to green, as it shocked his gut again, this time, healing it like if nothing happened, and gave the blue blur’s heart a jumpstart, as he sprung back to life, panting and still in tears and shaking. Egghog walked towards Sonic, arms on his back and with his usual grin. 

“Hello, Sonic.” he greeted. “Nice to see you. Do you… recall anything the last time you got a hold of yourself?”

Sonic, in response to that question, recalled everything he did as a cannibal: the people he killed and eaten, the words he said, the things he'd done and the pain he caused. He began to sob after remembering everything.

“No… No, No!” Sonic said out loud, broken and regretful. “M-My friends… T-Tails! O-Oh Tails… I-I ate all o-of you l-like food. Oh GOD… I’m SO s-sorry… P-Please forgive me…”

Egghog was pleased. “Now THAT'S the Sonic everybody once knew.” he said with pride. “Good to see you catched up with what the Hungry Hero made you do. And I’m sure you know who I am from my conversation with him, don’t you?” 

Sonic, still shaking and in tears, remembered him clearly, and turned towards him to nod.

“Excellent!” Egghog said as he took off the helmet on Sonic’s head. “Now come! I’m about to show you my use of the remains of your… insanely cannibalistic persona to create the dawn of something both marvelous and spectacular. You WILL want to see this in action, because it’s just about to start.”

As Egghog walked out of the laboratory, the speaker bot pushed the chair Sonic was still strapped to onto where his maker went off to. Passing down the same hallway filled with the same prisoners he saw, the two hedgehogs arrived at an elevator. The elevator doors opened and Egghog went inside, Sonic entering after. After reaching their desired room, the two hedgehogs reached the main room of what was Egghog’s massive mothership: the throne room. Walking towards the view, the Sonic-turned-Eggman and Sonic were in time to see the destruction of the latter’s world.

Egghog’s mothership used the digested bloody mass of people Sonic had eaten as fuel for a giant indestructible laser, where it consumed everything it shot. And while the environments were getting consumed, the robots attacked, fought and killed the people that lived, those being the Mobians Sonic hadn’t eaten yet, even those that were far away from Sonic’s town, like Blaze and Silver, only capturing them if they were of any value for their master’s collection of multiversal remains. While Egghog chuckled victoriously at the sight of another destroyed world, Sonic was devastated, and believed the destruction was his fault, and that it could’ve been all avoided had he not become a cannibal.

“...Why?” Sonic asked. “J-Just why?-Why do this?!”

Egghog, still smiling, was pleased with that question, and happily answered. 

“Two reasons, dear Sonic.” he said. “You already know the first reason, that being my work. But the second is simple: whenever I destroy a universe, I always want it to be that I am their biggest threat. But annoyingly, very few universes already have their hands full with their own threat. Now, if it were like, say a monster that can easily be subdued by the hero. I wouldn’t mind. But if it was a threat that not even the hero can defeat, THEN I would intervene. I want every world I destroy to be worried about myself and how much of a force I am to be dealt with. So I do these worlds a favor and rid them of their own threats before destroying them. You, back in your cannibalistic state, was a recent example. therefore, I would rid these threats so that I could be an even bigger one.”

Sonic looked down to the floor in shock. He didn’t know what to say, but was too devastated to even care. 

“But rest assured, hedgehog.” Egghog reassured Sonic, in his own way, of course. The blue blur looked up to his face. “They’re at least with you in spirit. Who knows? Maybe they have all already forgiven you now that I’ve saved you. Maybe even your little buddy, Tails.”

The mention of Tails made Sonic sob in tears. Blaming himself for not going to Tails to fix his screwed appetite, he believed that he didn’t trust the little boy genius enough to save him in time, which was the reason why he cried.

Egghog then brought out his communication watch and called his robot minions. “Robots!” He ordered. “This recent Sonic is no longer a “hungry hero”. Put him in his cell alongside the others and be sure he’s well fed. You know what to feed him. Oh, and keep an eye on his mental state. It’s not… 100% at the moment.”

At the genocidal hedgehog’s orders, the speakerbot brings Sonic to his cell, with the help of 2 more bigger robots. turning off his communication watch, Egghog walked to his throne. Sitting comfortably, he pulls up a monitor to check on Sonic, who was just thrown into his cell and scurried away to a corner, knees covering his shame-filled face. Feeling like it, the Sonic-turned-cannibal pressed the speaker button to talk to the broken hedgehog.

“As far as you’re aware, you’ve just been put into a cell.” he spoke through the speaker. “A part of you believes this is where you belong after all the “evil” you’ve done, while another believes otherwise. Either way, it doesn’t matter, for you’ll be stuck here forever. There’s no escaping my mothership after all. Don’t worry, though. You’ll be well, and I promise we won’t feed you any “living beings”.”

Turning off the speaker and monitor after ending his little talk, Egghog just noticed his ship warping to the void in between universes. He knew EXACTLY what this meant, as he saw the former “Hungry Hero’s” universe explode, just like all the others he destroyed. At this sight, he laughed maniacally, celebrating another victory. His laugh echoed all across the halls of his mothership, including the prison cells, where a broken Sonic the Hedgehog, while free from his cannibalism, wept in sorrow and guilt from all the horrible things he had done. 

THE END

And that was it. I hoped you enjoyed reading this.

[forbidden-forest-witch]

Destiné à Être: A Remus Lupin Story

Chapter 9: Just the Two of Us

(Ohhhh I’m excited for this chapter! Remus and Brigitte finally spend some alone time together, and their feelings are too strong to stay a secret. Tiny spoiler: things will definitely be heating up between these two in the upcoming chapters!)

(Warnings: Smoking, drinking, language, sexual themes. 18+ only)

Word count: 3.7K

<Gif is just a little reminder of how I imagine Brigitte>

"And all at once, summer collapsed into fall"

-Oscar Wilde

Two days after the full moon, Brigitte visits St Mungos again, but Darren is gone.

"He left right after the full moon was over. I tried to get him to stay another day...".

"It's not your fault Madame Le Fay. You helped him so much more than others would", Brigitte assures her.

"I tried. I told him I wouldn't tell the Ministry, but it's so hard for these people. I hope you do hear from him, my Dear. And of course, I will contact you again if need be".

"Under those circumstances, I hope to not hear from you. Take care, Madame". Brigitte had wish she could be of assistance to Darren, but unfortunately this line of work isn't for the faint of heart, and she can only focus on what she can do.

When she gets back to Grimmauld Place, she can hear Sirius screaming. It bares a striking resemblance to his mother, but Brigitte would never tell him that.

"Get! Out! Get out of my face, you dirty little rag! I should use you for target practice".

Brigitte watches Kreacher come out of Buckbeak's room, muttering obscenities under his breath. He glances down at the French witch before making his way to the attic.

Brigitte hesitates for a moment, then bravely enters Mrs. Black's old bedroom to find Sirius on the floor, using Buckbeak to support his back while he nurses a bottle of Fire Whisky. A haze of cigarette smoke clouds the room.

"Hi, Sirius...".

"Oh, erm, hello love. You just get back?". He fixes his hair in an attempt to not appear so intoxicated.

"I did. It wasn't an eventful outing. How are you today?". Brigitte kneels down, petting Buckbeak's flank and prying the bottle from Sirius' tattooed hands.

"Me? I'm fucking dandy. Being stuck in Hell's waiting room day in and day out. My best mate is dealing with another full moon alone, and I can do shit for The Order", he sputters.

"That's sure a bottle half-empty way of looking at things", Brigitte chuckles sarcastically. "You and Remus have reconnected, so I can only imagine that brings him some peace at this time. And how could you forget about Harry? He'd have no idea about the truth hadn't you escaped. The best thing you can do is stay safe, so you can be there for him emotionally".

Sirius looks up at her, his eyes swirling in his head. "Shit. No wonder Moony likes ya so much", he drunkenly admits. "C'mon, help me up. Let's not waste away on this floor".

Brigitte decides not to pry him for more information about Remus and pulls Sirius to his feet. She keeps ahold of his arm as they ascend to the drawing room.

"So, ya catch Pettigrew yet?".

"Not yet... Oh, Sirius I wish I could be more help for you".

"You are, Love. I'd much rather you be under my arm right now than Kreacher", Sirius says, slurring his words. Brigitte walks them over to the sofa, where Sirius collapses and blacks out for the rest of the night.

The subsequent morning, Brigitte excitedly puts on a 'Dark Side of the Moon' vintage tee, checks on Sirius still sleeping in the drawing room, and grabs a snack from the kitchen before racing out the door.

Today is the day she is paired up to carry out a mission with Remus-- at last! He had informed her when she returned from the hospital after that first visit with Darren, and she is finally seeing Remus after suffering through another full moon.

Disapparating, Brigitte's feet land outside of Gus' flat, and she presses the doorbell until he lets her in. His Alchemy laboratory is a dark and cramped space in the basement, with a hefty stock of mysterious tools and liquid metals that Brigitte would never dare touch. Gus is wearing a welder's mask as he melts gold into a lead vile.

"Think you'll still have all your fingers by thirty?", Brigitte speaks up.

Gus chuckles, backing away from the molten substance and taking off the mask. "I'm not that bad. Will I have all the parts of every finger? I might have to depart with a fingertip or two. Finger prints are overrated!".

"Blech. Such noble work". Brigitte rolls her eyes and hops up to sit in his desk.

"Why the hell are you here? Is it that fun to bother me?". Gus goes to the shelving and grabs armfuls of glass jars.

"Always ... I haven't seen you in over a week. Thought I'd stop by before I meet Remus". That makes Gus stop in his tracks. He peeks up with a mischievous smirk.

"Remus, hmm?... Don't you think he's a little old for you?".

"Old to what, Gus? Work together?", Brigitte retorts, hoping she didn't sound too defensive.

"I'm your brother. I can read you like a book ... he's not exactly subtle either. Starting to piss me off, actually", Gus mutters.

Brigitte snickers and whips her hair over her shoulder. "As if you can see anything with your eyes glued on Tonks". Brigitte takes a coffee mug and pastry sitting at the corner of her brother's desk, biting off half. Gus purses his lips, his cheeks furiously red.

"Oí! Stop it! Either keep your hands to yourself or get out". Gus huffs snatches his breakfast from her hands.

"Fine! I have to go anyway, but can you please write Maman and tell her we're settling in fine? I know you haven't, and I'm out of stationary".

"Whatever, fine, if it gets you out of here!", Gus says dramatically before putting his welder's mask back on.

Brigitte Apparates near the apartment building she and Remus are to surveil. Other Order members have reported multiple, unrelated Death Eaters entering the building, a possible sign of a hide-out.

It's gloomy and intimidating, with gargoyles staring down at her. She uses the fire escape access the roof of the abandoned house across the street as planned. Unsurprisingly, Remus is already up there, looking off into the distance with his hands in his pockets.

"Remus ...", Brigitte breathes out with a small wave, her face lighting up when she spots him. He jerks his head around and straightens his posture, visibly weak from his transformation.

He drinks in her beauty. So effortless, wearing an oversized t-shirt and her hair blowing in the breeze. To him, she's a vision. "Britt, hi. How are you?".

"You're asking how I am?", she asks, earning a shrug from the man. "I'm better now. Seeing you're okay. Think we'll see any action today?".

"It's not likely. Even if we see someone enter that building, I'm not confronting an alleged Death Eater just for going into their flat; not with you around".

"I can take care of myself". Brigitte peers intently into Remus' hazel eyes, and there's a thick silence before he awkwardly looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. Brigitte pouts and sits herself down at the edge of the building.

"Guess we'll have to find other ways to entertain ourselves ... C'mon, Remus... Moony... Lunaire. I won't bite", she says cheekily, patting the brick. Remus casts disillusionment charms around them and sits next to her.

"So... how are you, really?", Brigitte looks at him with slight worry.

"I've been dealing with the full moon since before you were born... I'm alright", he sounds almost out of breath. She looks at him eyebrows raised, totally unconvinced. "Please don't look at me like that", Remus begs, putting his head down to avoid her gaze.

"I wouldn't have to if you didn't lie", she hums, "Have you eaten today?". Remus peeks up at Brigitte, the genuine concern she shows still stuns him. He hesitates before shaking his head guiltily.

Brigitte purses her lips, "No wonder you feel like garbage! I was going to save these for later ...". She sifts through her bag and takes out two croissants. She hands him one and opens a jar of Nutella.

"What's this?", Remus asks, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the creamy chocolate.

"The chocolate lover doesn't know what Nutella is? Tsk tsk tsk. There's no going back after this", she smiles enthusiastically.

"Britt, you didn't have to-".

"I know I didn't have to. I wanted to! Now dip the croissant", she demands. Remus smiles gratefully and does what she says. Brigitte starts giggling at his bewildered expression. His eyes widen at the divinity of the treat as he takes a second bite.

"It's good, huh?".

"Good? It's bloody brilliant! How is the croissant still warm?".

"A little help from my magic touch... I hope that helps you feel a little bit better".

Remus nods his head, grinning contently. "You have no idea, Britt. Thank you", he sighs.

When they finish eating, Remus does a look around of the surroundings while Brigitte takes out her sketchbook to draw the building they're watching.

"I never asked you how you've been the past few days?", Remus speaks up after surveying the parameter.

"I'm just trying to stay busy. I'm lost as to how to proceed with Sirius' case. There's not much anyone can say or do. We need Pettigrew. Defending a convicted felon who escaped prison is an obstacle I'm not familiar with. I feel like all I can do at this point is be there to support him; I think Sirius hates having that house empty".

Remus nods his head and lets out heavy sigh, "I wish I could've stayed after the kids left for Hogwarts".

"Why don't you? Stay for the full moon? Sirius and I can transform into our Animagus. What about the attic?".

"No. I never want you to see me like that", Remus responds firmly, not entertaining this conversation. Instead of backing away as he clenches his jaw, Brigitte smiles and leans forward, placing her hand on his.

With tingles all over their bodies, they gaze into each other eyes. Remus turns his palm upward, cupping Brigitte's hand and drawing small circles on her soft flesh.

Over the next few hours, Brigitte continues her sketches while Remus reads a pocket sized version of The Omen. There's been no activity across the street aside from local Muggles, so they sit in a comfortable silence. Until after a while it's almost deafening for Brigitte; it's a shame to not hear Remus' velvet voice when he's at her disposal.

"When I was little, Auguste told me that Damian could climb out of that book and terrorize me. My Papa had to put them on a shelf high out of my reach, and I couldn't go to that part of his store for months. Still can't read the book". Remus looks at up Brigitte and belts out an echoing laugh, a deep and rich sound that makes the butterflies in her stomach flutter.

"You work with dangerous magical creatures and are hunting Death Eaters, but a book is scary?", he smirks. She scrunches her face trying to push away a smile.

"Oh shush! There are magical books that can do some scary shit!". Her innocently terrified and wide eyes make them both burst into a fit of laughter.

"You're a special girl, Britt. To think your boggart may be a fictitious little boy", Remus teases once they catch their breath. Brigitte picks up the pencil and returns to her drawing.

"There's nothing wrong with liking the Classics. I want to be moved, not scared shitless by a demon who took shape as a little boy, technically".

"So what do you recommend?".

"A Picture of Dorian Gray, my favorite", Brigitte says without thinking. "It's so beautifully written, even the carnage of it is poetic... 'Behind every beautiful thing that ever existed, there was something tragic'".  

Remus smiles at her recitation before examining the deserted street below them. "I think we can leave soon. No one's going to come here".

"Let me finish this drawing and we can go".

"That sketch you did of the building was beautiful. What are you drawing now?".

"You", Brigitte smiles coquettishly.

"Me?!", Remus chokes.

"Yes, you! You're the only other thing I've been looking at! I just need to finish this shading. These pencils suck...".

Brigitte sticks her tongue out the corner of her mouth in concentration, and Remus watches her with his heartbeat pounding violently. The way her dainty hand holds the pencil; how the small wispy curls are tangled up in her long eyelashes; her sweet humming.

'Stop staring. The longer you stare the more beautiful she gets', Remus tells himself. But how can he look away? Brigitte has become the light and source of most happiness in Grimmauld Place and his dark, lonely life.

"All done! You want to see it?", she grins brightly and carefully tears out the drawing. She hands it to Remus with burning anticipation. He stares at the drawing, his lips agape.

"Do you not like it?", Brigitte hesitates. Remus slowly brings his eyes up to meet hers.

"I'm sorry. Yes I do like it, very much. I just... I can't believe this is what you think I look like", he says shaking his head, his grey-flecked hair sweeping back and forth. Although it's a rough pencil drawing, the features are obviously Remus'.

Brigitte's light hold on the pencil softened the crudeness in his features to illuminate the handsome man she sees. His hair is tousled, lips are pouted under a scruffy mustache, and faint scar lines run across his face. She even added his long fingers holding the horror book.

Brigitte smirks at him with coyish eyes as he admires it, "It's not, exactly. I think you're much more handsome in real life", she confesses.

Remus' breath hitches in his throat and she lets out a small giggle. She gets up and offers her hand. He doesn't hesitate— obsessed with the way her hand feels in his— though the back of his mind is telling him to stop touching her so much.

The moment he's on his feet they're transported away. They Apparate near a city square a few blocks away from home, close to the River Thames. Remus reluctantly let's go of Brigitte's hand and places them back in his suit pockets.

"So... Grimmauld Place?", he asks, disappointed their day has come to an end.

"Actually, I don't feel like going back yet. I wouldn't mind a walk along the river... care to join me?".

"Yes", he responds eagerly. Brigitte guides them to a footpath along the edge of the river so they can have a scenic stroll. Flowerboxes adorn the handrails, the evening sun glimmers on the water, and everyone around is enjoying the nice weather.

"So, tell me what it's like growing up in the French countryside. Had to have been pretty idyllic, in spite of the nightmarish books", Remus says dramatically. Brigitte scoffs and playfully bumps his arm.  

"Despite what you see now, we were like tornados destroying everything in our paths. Papa couldn't let us in his shop a lot. Most of the time my brothers and I played outside. I'd flip around in the garden pretending to be an acrobat. I'd dress up Julien like a baby sister and have tantrums with Auguste".

"Still do sometimes", Remus smiles deliberately.

"Pfft. You've met him! He's been a pain in the ass my whole life. Beau's the nice one. He was in second year of school when I was three; the year I started showing signs of magic. He'd help me practice making flowers and snowflakes".

"And fire? I suppose you'll be a nasty little surprise for a Death Eater?", Remus quirks his brow.

"If I don't mind blowing up myself too. I haven't mastered having total control when my emotions flare. My wandless skills are a bit sloppy", she says sheepishly. "I have a lot to improve".

"Moody’ll have you new and improved in no time, and you helped Dumbledore build the maze for the final task? You can't be that bad".

"Thanks, Remus". She thanks the gods for the setting sunlight that hides her fiery red cheeks. "But, I need to work on my defensive skills. I doubt any Death Eater will be thwarted by pretty flowers".  

Remus looks at her with amusement, "you know you're doing it right now? Your magic".

Brigitte looks at him perplexed, so he gestures his shaggy head to the river where a tiny rip curl wave is trailing behind them like a stray puppy. They face the water, arms faintly touching.

"Oops", Brigitte smiles bashfully, but Remus is far too humble to assume he's the reason for the subconscious flutter of her magical powers. Brigitte lazily waves her hand to make swirls in the water, as if mermaids were tracing their fingers along the water's surface.

"I don't have happy childhood memories like those. Not really", Remus mutters. "My parents didn't let me have many friends and we moved a lot ... They loved me and all, but Hogwarts- Sirius and James- those were the best times. Closest thing I'll have to brothers", he smiles vacantly, staring off into the distance.

Brigitte gently caresses the back of Remus' hand with her finger, slowly wrapping her fingers around his. He acknowledges it with a soft squeeze. They both feel the way their hands fit perfectly together, and for a moment they enjoy the sounds of the city and the glowing gold sunset.

"Remus... can I ask you something?".

"Anything".

"The first night I arrived at Grimmauld Place, you said that Voldemort is known for using werewolves... what are your missions for the Order?", Brigitte asks, subtly voicing her concerns.

"I'm not infiltrating packs or stalking Greyback... not yet, at least. Please, don't you worry that, yeah?",

"How can't I?".

Brigitte turns Remus and her eyes widen like the moon. "What? What's wrong? I promise I'm okay, Britt".

She smiles timidly and looks down at her shoes, "No, it's not that. Um ... your eyes look really beautiful in this light. Like a kaleidoscope of honey and caramel". She ducks her head, feeling exposed by her statement.

Remus grins at her flustered disposition. He takes a step closer despite the nervous knot growing in his stomach, and tucks the untamable hair behind her ear.

"I think your eyes are breathtaking, even under the dim light of a Triwizard Tournament tent, but right now they're absolutely captivating", he whispers. They peer into each other, past the vibrant irises and into their souls. It's too much for Brigitte, this intense pull she's feeling towards Remus, stronger than anything she's felt before. It's like they're opposing magnets trying to find one another.

"Can we go home? I'm starving!", she smiles and takes half a step back. Remus Apparates them back to headquarters. They walk down the dark hall and only once they're in the kitchen do they untwine their hands.

"Looks like Sirius hasn't been down all day. I swear he's living on a diet of Whiskey. He'll kill himself!", Brigitte huffs dramatically while pulling food from the pantry.

"He's a stubborn baby. He'll eat when he's hungry", he reassures her, pouring drinks. Brigitte whips up pasta for the two of them and they eat it over candlelight; enjoying the last few moments they have, just the two of them.

"Thank you for dinner– and everything else. I don't deserve it", Remus scoffs, the guilt from shamelessly flirting with her settling on him like a ton of bricks.

"Deserve what? It's pasta, and you can't only cook for one", Brigitte reasons.

"No... this--  constant compassion. Why? People aren't this nice— ever— to anyone. Especially not people like me... I guess I don't know what I mean", he sighs, frustrated with himself.

Brigitte gives him a pained smile. "That'd be awfully hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?", she asks making them both chuckle mirthlessly. "Not that I'd ever treat you unkindly... but I would have thought my feelings would be obvious by now, Remus", she confesses softly. His eyes flood with adoration, and Brigitte twinkles at the softness across his face, needing no verbal response from him.

"You must be exhausted. I know I am ... see you tomorrow?", Brigitte asks as she stands up. He mirrors her, standing so close their toes touch .

"You will. Sweet dreams, Britt", Remus says quietly– but she doesn't move. She lifts her hand and traces down his suit lapel, bringing her gaze from his rapidly rising chest to his widened eyes.

Brigitte stands on her tip toes so their noses almost touch. Remus holds his breath as she eyes his lips with a hooded stare.

"Britt... w-we shouldn't", Remus says unconvincingly. She closes the small gap anyway, pulling him down by his tie and pressing her lips to his.

Time ceases. Nothing exists outside of this kiss. Remus cups Brigitte's cheek and inhales her scent. He swears his heart is pounding so hard she can feel it thumping against her chest. Electricity courses through their bodies, making their lips, finger tips, and toes tingle.

Brigitte softly bites Remus' bottom lip, ghosting her soft tongue over the swollen skin. Remus groans into her mouth and encases her neck with his large hands. Brigitte whimpers at the touch, intoxicated from his lips. But she pulls away before the kiss gets too heated. She backs up to the doorway with her eyes on Remus and a satisfied smirk on her dewy lips.

"Goodnight... Lunaire". And with that she leaves him, heat and blood rushing his body. Remus stands in the middle of the kitchen with a placid smile stuck on his face..until reality sinks in. He's a werewolf with no prospects in life. He doesn't let himself get close to people like this, Brigitte can only get hurt. He shouldn't be kissing her, but the desire to be with her is so astronomically stronger than his self-loathing.

Brigitte is different. She didn't bat one beautiful eye when he shared his darkest secret, and she has been by his side ever since. It doesn't matter how hard Remus will try to push her away, the universe's will is mightier and neither one of them can deny the strong pull they feel to be together.

♥

Lemme know how you like this story and if you wanna be tagged!

Masterlist

Taglist: @dontjudgemyobsessionpls

[stevebattle]

Nerd Herd (AKA “toaster-bots”) by Maja Matarić (1992), MIT AI Laboratory, Cambridge, MA. Known as "toaster-bots" due to their resemblance to the eponymous kitchen appliance, they also have bread themed names including Brioche, Zwieback and Wonder. In the lower photo three of them form a chain, while another returns with a puck after an excursion around the pen. “Each robot is a 12”-long four-wheeled base, equipped with a forklift for picking up, carrying, and stacking pucks, and a radio transceiver for inter-robot communication and data collection. Each of the robots is also equipped with piezo-electric bump sensors, and infra-red collision and puck detection sensors.” – Controlling a Mobile Robot Herd: Theory and Practice, by Maja Matarić.

“Robots in The Nerd Herd have definite, if simple, sets of goals and subgoals - for instance, Bring home as many pucks as possible. Beyond that, Mataric´ has built reinforcement schemes into every robot, giving them internal mechanisms for "liking" or "disliking" things. When they do something well, such as picking up a puck, they get positive reinforcement and repeat that action in the future. When they do something badly, such as colliding with a wall, they get negative reinforcement and avoid that in the future. … As I watch them running around inside the pen, it's hard not to wonder how much of Mataric´'s own biases about society and social behavior affect the qualities she programs into her robots. "Ah," she laughs at the obvious attempt at a little pop psychology. "Does my desire for distributed systems mean that I don't believe in any type of centralized authority? Let's just say that I'm not given to taking authority easily. I am something of an iconoclast, and in general the approaches I've taken have been iconoclastic." Regardless of the politics involved, the result is a group of robots that is able to think locally but act globally.” – Herd mentality, by Jerry Shine, WIRED magazine, June 1996.

[shwazzberryswriting]

5 Haechans

Pairing: Haechan x F Reader | [Y/N]

Genre: One Shot, AU - Non-Idol/Scientist Haechan, Utter Smut, Sci-Fi themes

Summary: You love Haechan, SM Laboratory's youngest scientist and your loving boyfriend, but how far can your love go when there's more than one of him?

Word count: 1.9k

Rating/Warnings: Erotica/Not Beta Read, Explicit Sexual Content: Bukkake, Foot Job, Double Penetration in 2 Holes, F X MMMMM, *Do I Tag This Selfcest????*, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Fingering

Minors DNI! 18+ ONLY

Author’s Note:

Neohub Kinktober Event

Personal Kinktober List there are a couple fics not on the NeoHub List

So...I got two random ass inspirations for Haechan fics, this being the second. When Jaehyun was asked if he would rather take care of a 5yo Haechan or 5 Haechans IDK what to say, my brain immediately wondered what 5 Haechans would do to 1 body. Happy Halloween!

Apologies in advance for any mistakes! 💚

Please let me know of any technical errors or if you have feedback/questions

    “Haechan?”

    You walk into the empty loft, alarmed at the barren floors. A single uncovered mattress laid at the far end of the main room. A large lamp stood over it, bright light shining down on the plush mattress like a spotlight on a Hollywood set.

    It was nothing like what you were used to; cluttered mismatched furniture bought from “a guy I know” Haechan always says whenever you ask him where he got his eclectic home furnishings. They always appeared at the most sporadic times. Like 7 weeks ago when he placed a large round glass coffee table next to his kitchen.

    All of it, gone. Save for the lamp and mattress.

    “Haechan? What’s going on?”

    You jump as the heavy metal door slams behind you. Haechan is wearing his black sleeveless top with his red leather jeans. Your nipples ache and your clit throbs.

    He’s wearing that outfit the first time you had sex together. Seeing him with dark eyeliner and hunched shoulders sends a horny chill down your back. He’d cummed twice; you had to prod him into finger fucking you into an orgasm. His skilled fingers turned the encounter into one of the hottest sex sessions of your life.

    “Good news, babe,” he says softly, eyes drifting down your body. “I got that grant for my project.”

    “Babe!” You throw your arms around his neck, embracing him in a tight hug. “That’s great news! Does that mean SM Laboratory is going through with the cloning project?”     “Even better.” Haechan’s voice sounds to be coming from the back of the room.

    “Babe?”

    You pull away from Haechan’s embrace as he lets you go, but you immediately feel hands cupping your breasts. Arms pulling you against a body that feels just like Haechan, smelling just like him.

    “I’ve missed your tits, babe,” he coos against your ear. But-

    “Haechan!” You pull away from the body behind you, and jump into Haechan’s arms. “What’s going on?”     You turn around to see Haechan in nothing but silk boxers.

    You blink.

    You turn your head back to the Haechan holding you.  You’re not seeing double. You’re not delusional.

    You jump out of his arms, screaming. Mind spinning with shock. Body lit up in alarm.

    “Babe! Hold on!” Haechan with the black top said, hand up in the air to placate you. “How do you think I got the grant and promotion?”

    “What?!” You spin around. Topless Haechan, grinning. Sleeveless Haechan, frowning. “You tested the machine on yourself?!”

    “I can’t test on animals! It’s unethical!”     “I couldn’t get the five grand for Yangyang so he dropped out!”

    “-And the deadline was coming up-”

    “So you cloned yourself in front of your boss?!” You reached both hands out, left toward topless Haechan, right grasping onto the front of the other Haechan’s shirt.

    “Uh, so,” you heard Haechan’s voice come out from behind the shadows from the other end of the loft.

    “I had to make sure it would be a success before the day of the pitch,” the Haechan in your right hand’s hold completed. “I uh…cloned myself three times the night before. I was wiped out and I activated the machine a few too many times.”

    “There’s…” You pause.

    Three identical Haechans walk out from the shadows - down to the disheveled brown hair and cute moles on his face and neck. Heat was collecting at your neck as your eyes shifted from one Haechan to the next, feet spinning in a circle.

    Haechan in the black jeans and red jersey, reminding you of the first time he went down on you (nosebleed seats at a baseball game).

    Haechan in the palm tree printed shorts when you’d gone down on him for the first time (to make up for him missing Beach Day with his boys).

    Haechan in black joggers and his body hugging tshirt (what he’d worn the first time you got onto the bed and learned to 69 together).

    “Babe,” all five Haechans say at once, causing all the hairs on your body to lift up in shock.

    “Stop scaring her!” Haechan in the silk boxers yells, glaring at himself. He takes your hands, kissing the back of one. “Babe, I don’t think I can reverse this - but I have it all figured out!”

    “Wha-” You yelped as Haechan in the joggers lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulder, caveman style. “Babe!”

    You spin in circles as he drops you onto the mattress and you bounce, voice catching in your throat as you feel two bodies over you. Two hands grab your breasts, both pinching hard. Blood shoots to your guts and you buck up against your Haechans.

    “Let me have her first.” Joggers Haechan has one leg over your right leg. “We 69’ed for the first time when I was wearing this.”

    “Wait.” You moan as Red Jersey Haechan’s lips suck on your nipple. “Haechan!” You throw your head back, hand grabbing his hair. “Babe, I…is this ethical?”

    “Huh?” Red Jersey and Joggers both stop what they’re doing, sitting up slightly to stare at you. They blinked at the same time, making you feel a shiver ride down your back.

    “Am I cheating on you?” You feel another Haechan sit at the foot of the bed. You feel pressure on the balls of your feet, and you shut your eyes, moaning softly. His skillful thumbs continue to glide toward the center of your foot, digging in deep. “Babe, don’t stop.”

    Another set of hands massage your other foot, and you moan as you feel two pairs of lips on your breasts. Delicate sucks and teeth tugs that send chills rippling into your clit.

    “Babe,” Haechan in the sleeveless top says as he hovers over you, blocking out the light from the lamp, “let us take care of you. Five of me means I’ll always be here for you.”     “Haechan,” you coo, muscles turning into putty, eyes shutting, “if all five of you can make me feel so good…”

    His lips are over yours. You whimper into his mouth as two mouths suck onto your nipples, two long fingers glide against your slit. Two pairs of hands massaging both your feet, one mouth sucking on your big toe.

    “Haechan.” His tongue is lapping up against the bottom of your toe.

    “Baby, I need you.” His breath is at your neck. Your core flares, juices building between your legs. You pump one cock in your left fist - which Haechan’s you didn’t know. Another Haechan is kissing you, lips sucking yours. “I want to double fill you with my cocks. Can you handle that?”

    Your stomach grumbles with anticipation as three long fingers press against your entrance. You’d been double penetrated before. Haechan had positioned himself behind you as he used a dildo to fuck your pussy a few times. He loved fucking your ass.

    “T-two Haechans in my pussy and up my ass?” you ask. Your mind flares up in hot heat as two lips suck hard on both your nipples. Fingers caress your belly as more grope and massage your thighs and feet. A soft hum against your big toe as his mouth sucks on it. “Haechan!”

    “Such a fucking whore for me. We’ll see if we can position your mouth around another of us. Handjob me like you are right now with number 4. Last of us can-”

    “-Rub my dick against your feet.”

    “Haechan!” You’re locked under the handling of all 5 Haechans as a hot wet fleshy heat rubs up against the bottom of your left foot. A finger pushes into your cunt. You mewl. “Baby! Your cock’s so hot.”

    His moans blend together melodically, and your hips buck as a pair of hands pushes your feet together by grabbing your ankles. A hot uncomfortable shame flares over your face and chest, realizing Haechan is pushing his cock between your feet. Your whole body flares as Haechan flicks the back of his finger against your clit.

    “You love the footjob, babe.” His breath against your ear sends hot blood to your nipples. His gentle chuckle has you thrusting against his finger inside. “So fucking beautiful, even your feet deserve to be fucked. No one else can say they’d fucked your feet.”

    “Perverted weirdo.” You groan into his mouth as he kisses you rough. Two fingers inside you, pumping fast and hard. Another hand drawing furious circles against your clit.

    You cry out when he releases your lips. Your body feels weightless as he moves you around, three pairs of hands repositioning you.

    On your side. His silk boxers stick to your sweaty thighs, cock sliding up your ass. Polyester jersey over your tits.

    Your left leg is up in the air. Hold on your ankle pressing the bottom of your foot up against his throbbing rod. You indulge him, rocking your ankle back and forth as you press his dick against his thigh. His weak, whiny moans makes it all worth it to do weird perverted things for your boyfriend.

    “Donghyuck everywhere all at once.” One of your Haechans breathes against your lips. His teeth clamps down on the crook of your neck. You groan as his tongue licks up on you. “Bathe in my cum, baby.”

    One hot cock is in your cunt. Pussy so wet, he slides in balls deep with ease. You shake, asshole tight, nerves erratically thrashing as another thick shaft enters your second hole.

    “Fucking gorgeous my pretty little fuckdoll.” Haechan’s pulling the blue and green palm tree shorts off, hand grabbing your wrist to wrap around his throbbing rod. He groans loud, hand reaching down to palm your sweaty tit. “Hurry up and make me cum, babe. You heard me. I want to see you bathe in my cum.”

    “Perverted weirdo.”

    Loud cry echoing along with his overlapping grunts and moans, your lungs hurt. Thrusts in your cunt and ass are speeding up. Fourth Haechan twisting your head around to shove his wet shaft into your mouth.

    Your body was burning up. Four hot cocks in three holes and one fist. Your foot continues to push against his wet rod, fifth Haechan whimpering and whining as he thrusts and grabs you.

    “We can literally work out a schedule where one of us is fucking you every hour of the day.” Multiple groans of approval reverberate against your tits and neck. “Nonstop, babe. A literal fuckdoll for all your Haechans.”

    “Making as much money I as I will be babe, this can be arranged for real. We’ll love you so good.”

    His cock is out of your mouth. Hot fluid hits your face, sliding over your hair and eyes. A high pitched moan as more hot cum hits your chin.

    “Fuck this is hot!” Burning rod in your palm is gone. Hot liquid dripping down your arm, spilling onto your shoulder.

    “Whore, my fucking whore.” Your vision is gone. Cock burning your labia as he exits your cunt. “Gotta mark you.”

    More hot cum is spilling all over your front. He’d left your ass too, hand pushing you onto your back. Eyes open, blinking away the cum, three Haechans are over you - all fisting their cocks - directing cum to paint your body and face. One taking glee in squeezing his cock over your foot.

    “Covered in me,” one of your Haechans says. They’re all naked, clothes scattered around. “Babe, so fucking filthy and gorgeous covered in me.”

    Ten palms on your body, spreading his cum around you. As if his cum is lotion. You whine, sinuses overcome with the fishy and musky smell of Haechan. His melodic coos and praises send shivers down your body.

    “So fucking pretty-”

    “-want it over your pretty clit babe-”

    “-between your toes, slut-”

    “-ready to fuck again-”

    “-my fucking masterpiece right here.”

    Your mind is hazy. Eyes shut.

    Can you really be fucked like this every day?

    “Five Haechans is too much.”

---

I had to end it with a paraphrase from Jaehyun!

Happy Halloween! Enjoy this awesome holiday! 🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡

[laranomyprisma]

I reinstalled an APK version of Minecraft for mobile. I want to be able to make a base in the game for the AvM group! there will be several things that match each character and I will do it in creative mode. but there's also a little problem... I don't know how to build houses in Minecraft ;-;

So when I'm about to make houses I'll have to take a look at YouTube so I can see how to make a cute house (so it will look like green did it! :3)

I'm just going to mark a small list of what I want to do for this little base/house.

Themed rooms for each character (MT and Purple will be roommates)

A redstone laboratory and a witchcraft laboratory for blue and yellow.

A mini farm outside where Red takes care of the various animals they have :3

A small fishing lake

A cave that is home to Jacob, Ender, Skele and Spide, and Warden too!(Yes, these mobs wanted to follow the group but prefer to stay in a cozy and decorated cave for them, I thought this idea was cute in my opinion :3)

A training aria for them

A kitchen, a library, a chest cabinet and a few other things!

Anything else just let me know and I might add it too! ;3

And yes, the game is in Portuguese because it's my natuva language-w-"]

[thesadisticsiren]

Okay I tried to keep up with all of that.

Detailed stained glass windows of the 9 schools of magic

'Just think up' floatie elevator

9 Zemian sliding doors on second floor

Tracks on walls above doors, portholes near floors by each door. Left unexplained.

Massive salon library - 3 levels. Fire place, mollymauk stained glass window above fireplace? Maps, giant wildemount shsped table. Floating light globules. Books made of things caleb has read.

THE BEDROOMS ARE ON THE 5TH FLOOR

Small nein sided room. Wooden. Split evenly there are 3 doors. Guest bedroom. Cozy zemnian design, fireplaces, 5 books on sidetables. There is another door (likely bedrooms?

Room with scarab beetle is Caduceus' room. Bigger firniture. Clay stone and dust stained glass window. Gorgeous holy shit. Simple furniture. Reministent of his home. Endless pot of boiling water for tea. Inner dooor- another room full of fungi, crystals, ferns, giant fourposter bed and brass bathtub.

Lilacs outside yashas door. Fireplace (a theme) stormlord and flowers and lighting. SO MANY FLOWERS. Pressed, vases. Cant see walls. Simple straw mat next to yashas mural from back in xhoras, but the flowers shift in the breeze. Same kid of bed and bath. Terrariam full of snack bugs. Aparently tasty.

LIAMS BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR OVER A YEAR -

CALEBS BEEN WORKING ON THIS SINCE JESTER FJORD AND YASHA WERE KIDNAPPED NEARLY 100 EPISODES AGO.

Fjords room has an anchor - stained glass has a ship at sea. Room designed like a ship.

All of the rooms have the same stack of 5 books. Fjords has the alter design from deshillas lair under the books. Meditation room, stone statue of wild mama. Fourpost bed and a hammock. Possibly weights if we can believe veth.

Beaus room has a cobalt soul symbol. Stain glass is of the m9 looking out over the fields of the empire. Middle room has beau sashes and bo staffs and fighting post. Writing desk. Average quality paper. Fourpost bed in all blue, same bathtub. Beau lays on the bed Theres A MIRROR BUILT INTO THE ROOF OF HER BED THATS KINKY LIAM. Yasha CALLS IT USEFUL SHKAYSNSN. Beau says calebs her best friend. Good for her.

Jester's room has the arch of the traveler. Door has gemstones built in like Traveler symbol. Stained glass has coastal city scape with her mother. Recreates the lavish chateau.

- One of the books is Tusk Love. Counting of the Crick. A zemian kids book, a transmution book, childrens fairytail book (THE VORTEX). dark fairytails, losin thumbs and shit.-

Next doorway is FULL of art supplies. All the walls are blank and ready to be painted. Side table full of pasties and blueberries.

Bedroom is almost a recreation of her childroom one, but updated. More elegance. Windows match but are stained glass. Framed pictures of some of her actual childhood artwork, portait of her mom. 3 lanterns. Jester also needs to look at her canopy like beau did, promises its not a mirror. Same painting about Jesters real bed, but it moves and is audible. Jester seems very happy.

3 more doors. One door is stained a bit green, one a bit amber. The green one is veths - bunch of halfling sized furniture. Stainedglass of her family. Lots of trinkets all over. A child's room built for Luc. A proper oil painting of the brennatos. Sliding bed from under the fourpost in case luc wants to sleep in that room. Jester suggests a sex swing for veths room.

The unmarked room is a laboratory and study for Caleb and Veth. Subpar paper. Yeza is also welcome.

Caleb has not shown off his own room. I have... suspicions.

Caleb reassues that things can change upon request, or keep them as they make them.

WHERE DO WE EAT TOGETHER OH NO WE SKIPPED IT. Before the bedchambers, a nonogonal sided room - a large piewedged room. Large dining table, buffet tables full of food. Swinging doors on the sides of the room. Jester goes in the right - kitchen that smells of pasties AND THERES CATS EVERYWHERE YESSSSSSS. THEYRE CARRYING TRAYS. THE TRACKS ARE FOR THE CATS. Using their tails and shit while cooking. Im dying. Fjord wants to know if the cats shed. These are below the rooms. Jester wants dumbell for food in her room. There already is one! You can summon a cat and let them in and they'll bring things.

There are doors that can be whatever is needed.

Caleb loves his family so much

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

it wasn’t power i coveted; it was acceptance.

Titans 3.06

y’know, i was just thinking the other day that 1.06/1.07 and 2.06/2.07 were the best episodes of their respective seasons, so i have great hopes going in to this one. fingers crossed!

as always, typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. oh! um... that was a Cold Open, all right. *nudges* get it? cold? because it’s snowing? and two people got murdered in cold blood? eh?

... oh, i’ve just started.

1.5. i wonder if “i want to be sipping pina coladas on a beach with you” is the new “i’m just one day away from retiring.” i was so on edge after that--i kept expecting that car to explode. even so, the way they died wasn’t an anticlimax: brutal, and quick. 

1.75. so i’m assuming that’s the titular lady vic! this show better bring up why this doll was important or why these two cops needed to be killed, and not leave it to the ether like jericho’s little mindscape jaunt in 2.08 (i’m still dying to know what that was about???)

2.

i love how deliberately unappealing wayne manor is. 

(sorry for the pic quality. i don’t have hbo max! ssshhh.)

2.3. i love the many references to “home” and “our house” when they’ve been here for less than a week and saw one of their friends get blown into pieces. i mean, i unironically love it: home is where family is, after all!

2.5. i’d like to say that kom is playing some sort of long game here, especially given the build-up we had last season and some of the more niggling details this season: why did kom choose now to use her bond to lure kory when she’s been on earth for months? why did justin call kory now, just around the time that she started getting kom’s visions? and what about kom’s ability to exactly imitate other people? hmmm.

2.75. the reason i wrote i’d like to say is that i’ve made the mistake of assuming plot complexity where there is none; i was so invested in the jason todd orchestrated his own death theory for instance, when it turns out that oops! ra’s al ghul just happened to leave a little lazarus puddle in gotham, and oh yeah! scarecrow just happens to have a network of henchmen working for him on the outside and a fully functional laboratory and a weapons cache fit for a new supervillain in the basement of the high security psychiatric unit/prison that he’s in! 

(no i’m not bitter, why do you ask)

2.8. iiiii don’t know what to say about the implications of sex slavery being a thing on tamaran, so i’m not going to say anything at all. for now.

3. gotham, six years ago... wasn’t it five years before s2 that jericho died and the titans disbanded? and when was the flashback from 1.06 where dick let zucco die? i think it was after the events of 2.08: jericho? i can’t seem to find any transcripts or reliable information online, so i’m going to have to rewatch 1.06 at some point. 

(i love the old-fashioned batman music in this heist scene)

3.5. “security is a joke... it’s my way of keeping my dad on his toes”. what you’re an ethical thief now, like an ethical hacker? i don’t think that excuse is going to sell, barbara, on the day you do encounter a decent security system and your father is forced to arrest you.

(then again, gotham’s security is piss-poor. did you know that you could just walk into arkham asylum without any official clearance, ply one of its most dangerous inhabitants with contraband, and said inmate could get away with having an entire laboratory and weapons cache--NO I’M NOT GOING TO LET THIS GO)

3.8 so that flashback between dick and barbara was really cute! and also illuminating:

a) dick sounds so light, so... um. look. i have some apologies to tender to mr thwaites, because while i’ve always thought he does a fine job as dick grayson, i’ve never been terribly fond of his cadence as he delivers dialogue. it’s often monotonous, i thought, but then again, he’s usually delivering exposition or dealing with one soul-crushing crisis or the other. so i was pleasantly surprised to hear dick sound so carefree and alive in his conversation with barbara, laughing frequently, his emotions so bare and bubbling to the surface. it’s really a fantastic contrast to the traumatised and world-weary dick grayson that we see now, even more so than the costume department just bunging a backwards-baseball cap on mr thwaites’ head and hoping that will convince us of his relative youth. 

b) and god, when he wakes up from that memory, all alone in his bed, bleeding from bullet holes in his shoulder (bullet holes that are--in a somewhat convoluted way--barbara’s fault)? yikes. it’s great. you have my apologies, mr thwaites!

c) can you imagine dick just... crawling back to wayne manor, trying not to be seen by anybody, shedding his suit and just... collapsing onto his bed without even tending to his wound? the sheer emotional and physical exhaustion of it? 

d) it’s so interesting to see how barbara and dick approach the idea of legacy--a big theme on the show!--in this flashback. barbara is the one bucking the idea that she should follow in her father’s footsteps, while dick seems pretty content with the batman-and-robin setup, and even tries to get barbara to join their team (robin-girl. pfffft). obviously after this several traumatic things happen wherein dick ends up questioning and then resenting his role as robin, his relationship with batman or even returning as a vigilante at all. and barbara... ends up replacing her father as commissioner. it’s tragic, really. 

e) the dynamic between dick and barbara in the flashback reminds me of how it was between dick and donna in 1.08 and even between kory and dick in early s1. it’s like having an older, strong-willed woman by his side means he gives over the steering wheel for a while and lets himself... unspool, a little bit. it’s kinda endearing.

also:

*pinches his cheeks*

3. you know, we talk about dick and Eldest Daughter Syndrome, and that’s definitely valid, but here gar seems to me the embodiment of it, with all the emotional gardening and firefighting that he’s expected to do. he’s kind of the guy expected to keep his shit together and take care of everyone else while they are falling completely to pieces, unable to carve out time to process his own trauma. he’s also picked up dick’s and kory’s tendencies to bottle up their struggles and shun appearing vulnerable, and he’s struggling in the shadow of both dick and kory undergoing acute crises, his best friend (and frequent confidante) on the other side of the world, and seeing hank die, utterly helpless to stop it. 

i’m glad that he got a chance to tell dick even a smidgeon of what he really feels, and i hope this is at least a semblance of a wake up call for dick to actually sit down and work with the people he repeatedly calls family.

3.5. it’s heartening to see that dick immediately makes it his priority to go talk to gar. but don’t blow off kory in the process, man!

4. i’m really loving this dynamic between kom and conner--i get the idea that both of them consider each other as Unknowns, alien two times over. but conner’s only ever known the titans, who embrace being different, and kom’s only ever known... well. 

anyway, kory is Really Stressed, and honestly? #relatable. 

when you’re forced to bring an estranged family member to hang out with your friends...

4.5. i love that the titans are spending so much time in the kitchen. a real family!

5. jonathan crane is a creep and i absolutely cannot stand him.

5.25. how did he get a whole lab setup (in the basement of a hospital...?) with a bunch of whitecoats to work for him? how did he just waltz into the viewing room of an operation theatre when he’s one of the most wanted men in gotham right now? why is jason wandering around maskless when--presumably--as the adopted son of the most famous person in gotham he’d be a tad more recognisable than your average joe?

why do i expect this show to answer anything anymore?

5.5. that’s not necessarily a criticism, mind; i’ve said since season 1 that titans is very comics-like in this aspect, all about the Aesthetic and the splash-page splendour rather than the niggling unimportant details of how or when the characters got to said location. like. the camera gliding over the operation being set-up, lady vic bursting in and doing her murder dance (imagine the luck of the poor intern who chose this day and this surgery to assist) and jason, shocked and slack-jawed, framed by blood.

5.75. it’s a sobering reminder for jason that, though he chose this path in order to gain control over a world that seemed like it was rapidly spinning out of his grip, he’s only succeeded in handing over even more control to a man with an agenda that is very clearly not aligned with his own. he’s in too far to stop now, though.

5.9. i have a lot more thoughts about jason! saving it up for the end of this recap, though.

6. more kitchen time! i better see dick do some cooking soon...

(”our kitchen”! it still delights me! kitchens are So Important)

6.25. so much of dick’s issues have revolved around his relationship with bruce, so it’s completely understandable that in the wake of a huge crisis where bruce literally asks dick to replace him and be a “better” him, dick would default to all the worst things he learned from the man. and i’m glad kory’s having none of it, but come on, guys. the woman’s literally fetched her fratricidal sister out of a hole in the ground with no idea what said sister is going to do next and experiencing a burgeoning sense of guilt far, far beyond her history with the titans, and dick’s too far into his autocolonoscopy that he can’t see that she needs help.

6.5. “he services your urges”--well, as far as we know, kory is the last person he had sex with...

7. “i hope [gar] isn’t angry with me...” SIR! i thought you’d already spoken to him! smh, as the kids say. kory wouldn’t be needing to reassure you if you just took the effort to build two way emotional relationships with the rest of the team. @superohclair​ was taking about dick’s relatively low emotional intelligence? i agree.

7.5. “i got my own problems [...] you and barbara? fix it.” YOU TELL HIM, KORY

8. man i really like this weird, sad tension between dick and barbara--this sense that both of them are approaching the other based on how they remember them and are ultimately disappointed by the truth. barbara thought she could trust dick to... well, be a better batman, but dick has not only failed at that in her eyes, but repeatedly undermined her while exploiting the authority that she gave him. in dick’s eyes, this is nothing like the barbara that he knew, rebellious and ready to do whatever it takes to find something. 

like. this show sometimes really hits me in the chest about the ways it shows kids grow into adults and into caretakers, and the way it’s stop-start, the ways nothing can happen at all for a long time and then it’s Crisis Central all at once and there’s no space to breathe. the weird sort of sadness that comes with nostalgia. 

8.5. oracle name drop! i agree with barbara, any system that can just randomly tap into gotham phonelines is a monster.

8.7. (i don’t know if it’s my imagination, but is dick holding himself... differently in this episode? like that wound is definitely bothering him, and he’s running on fumes)

9. man, that was a really sweet scene between kom and conner. “feeling alien in your own world”... “not quite here nor there”

honestly this team runs on conner and gar’s faith in their value as a family, and it’s a sign of conner’s generous heart that he extends that opportunity to blackfire. this arc of maturation for him, where he’s now able to consciously choose which parts of himself he can use to do the thing he wants to so--save people--has been so fulfilling to recognise. this baby’s grown with the titans! and what he’s learnt is that people can get fucked up, but the titans is a place where they can be fucked up, and grow.

MY MAN CONNER

10. oh man i’m drinking in the gar-dick interaction in this episode like i’m three days into the desert and it’s the only source of water for miles around!

a) gar is absolutely not dealing with dick’s bullshit this episode and I LOVE IT. it’s such a far cry from the man who was idolising dick/robin back in s1 and expecting him to solve all their problems. dick is fallible, dick is fucked up, but he Tries His Best and that’s ok.

b) dick, huffing and puffing through that vent, unable to put any pressure on his left shoulder, trying to have a heart to heart with gar... fuck i love this asshole. 

c) bruce took in a kid who was suffering... “and made him into a weapon”. well. i absolutely agree with dick that it was bruce who put these kids into these horrible situations with him and they came away with a bucketload of trauma to add to the one that they already had. but we know that bruce was really trying with jason, and at the end of s2, dick was coming to acknowledge that bruce had offered him something that wasn’t just darkness. jason’s death and bruce’s reaction to that shattered that fragile progress.

d) “gotham got to me too.” i feel more sympathetic towards dick running off on his own than most, and it’s not just because i’m an unapologetic stan.  we’ve seen before that dick... devolves when overwhelmed, and he lashes out and makes ill thought out decisions and just Does Not Deal. it happened after hearing the news that deathstroke had returned in s2, and it didn’t help that everyone around him was reeling at the news, either. this time, however, he has his salvation in his family, and despite some stupid decisions like running off and kidnapping supervillains without telling his team, he’s been really on the ball this season. thinking clearly and logically, holding it together and working on a plan, thinking two steps ahead of the villains... yes.

e) gar needing to believe that jason isn’t beyond redemption... there’s a lot of blood on his hands, too, from when he was manipulated by cadmus last season. it makes sense why he’d relate to jason’s predicament, and i hope dick picked up on that.

f) my head just added a plaintive ow after dick jumped feet first into the storage room

i need, crave gifs of this scene!

11. *sits on hands* i’m going to talk more about red hood, i promise!

12. more gar and dick! is it my birthday??!!

(actually, according to the tamil calendar, it is my birthday! my “star” birthday)

12.5. excellent. dick using some implausible training that bruce taught him to solve a mystery? passing some of that knowledge onto gar? that proud smile when he sees gar perfectly execute moves that he taught him? MY HEART IS EXPLODING

13. aw, i love flashback!dick and barbara, they’re so cute <3

13.25. why does it not surprise me that the way he proposes a relationship to barbara is by saying “we make sense”? this guy can deduce exactly who was present where and what weapon they were holding from a garbled audio recording but other times he’s utterly clueless, and that’s a consistent character beat right from s1

13.5. so.... that’s why lady vic has it out for... barbara....? i don’t get it. it’s flimsy. but hey! the fun thing about titans is that i don’t have to get it. the payoff has nothing to do with the plot.

14. i can’t believe that barbara fell for that, but at least that wheelchair fight looked awesome, so.

15. oh yeah, i forgot that red hood bullied the mob into helping him and scarecrow... at least that explains the whitecoats and the elaborate set-up.

15.5. honestly i love how this dynamic between kory and kom is developing, though i wish more of the team would pay attention to it. time to call justin, i think!

16. i wonder what happened after that second flashback where barbara got hurt during that heist. did she give up on doing any more (maybe jim caught her)? was it because dick was called away by bruce and then the titans and got caught up in his own issues? maybe barbara froze him out because she wasn’t looking for the relationship that he was looking for? maybe the idea of doing that with someone turning into batman-lite was just... unappealing? scary?

whatever it is, it doesn’t look like dick ever processed the end of that relationship. it’s very intriguing to see where their dynamic goes next.

17. so.... what, did vic deliver some fear toxin to barbara? i... what?

17.5. and i TOLD YOU that they would never explain that doll or why vic attacked those two cops at the beginning! oh, titans. never change. 

18. did jason just randomly have tim’s restaurant burgled? god, i’m feeling a bit nauseous... are they going to kill tim’s father?

18.25. i feel like the rest of the season is going to wrestle with jason’s culpability in the horrible stuff he’s doing and i’m already seeing that prospect divide fans. on one hand, his story is taking a lot of oxygen away from other equally interesting story arcs, and he’s done some truly awful things, like indiscriminate murder, threatening to kill children, blowing up hank, and potentially killing tim’s parents. 

there’s something to be said for the kind of hold that crane has over him, and the so-called ‘anti-fear’ drug that he keeps plying jason with--he’s alone, drugged almost constantly (to the level of dependence), fresh from the trauma of being bludgeoned to death. he hasn’t conquered fear; he’s ruled by it. on the other hand, given that he’s the one character on the show given an obvious and identifiable ‘mental illness’ arc (maaaaybe dick too), one can argue that it’s irresponsible to show this progress into such violence: jason was vulnerable because he was struggling, and that left him vulnerable, but it took only a push before he became a fucking serial killer.

but that could mean we underestimate the degree of that vulnerability, and the mechanics of this universe where he fell into the clutches of the one supervillain perfectly designed to exploit that vulnerability. that helpless spiral into further and further self-destruction is all too real. it’s valuable to know that someone who has sunk that low can still seek help--actual help--and get it. 

18.5. i don’t know. it’s not a question i’m going to resolve at the end of an overlong recap at 1 in the morning. i don’t believe it’s even a question that titans can resolve. but i am interested in where they’re going next with jason.

19. this episode was genuinely great! i’m pumped for the rest of the season!

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 6

A/N  Well, here it is.  The last chapter of Ginger Snap.   As an unplanned fic inspired by a vanity license plate, I’m happy with how it turned out.   There will be a short epilogue posted in the next week or so.  In the meantime,  thank you so much for coming on this unexpected ride with me!   This chapter’s themed title is Fire in the Belly.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

The next five months were some of the most difficult of my life.  

After our talk, Frank and I agreed that it would be best that we parted ways.  The Southside flat was close to the university, plus I’d never truly felt at home there, so it made sense for him to keep it.  Fortunately, we’d never combined our savings and I still had money tucked away from my time as a medical resident in Boston.

Geillis wanted me to move into her sprawling Murrayfield home, at least temporarily, but I knew that I needed a place of my own.  To stand on my own two feet, as it were.   Which was how I found myself moving my few belongings into a modest Morningside walk-up as the rest of Edinburgh celebrated Hogmanay with fireworks and drunken revelry.

I scheduled the written component of my medical licensing exam for February.  This was likely foolhardy, but I’d already wasted enough time.  As a result, almost every waking hour was dedicated to studying.  The flat remained an empty box whose naked beige walls bore witness to my rudimentary existence.

Geillis called regularly, reminding me to eat and to occasionally step outside for a breath of fresh air.  Returning up the high street from one of our weekly coffee dates, a bright flash in a shop window caught my eye.

I stopped and stared as the afternoon sun lit the vase like a shard of stained glass.  It was a profound shade of blue: the colour of a field of indigo, of the night sky in a Byzantine icon, of Jamie’s eyes when he laughed.  It sat on my windowsill, filled with the season’s first daffodils, as I pored over practice exams.

***

“Geillis, I passed!  I fucking passed!”  An elderly woman seated across from me on the bus muttered under her breath about vulgar Sassenachs, but I was too elated to care.

“Of course ye did, ye brilliant disaster.  Now I can brag tae the neighbours I have my own personal physician.”

“Not so fast, Duncan.  I still need to pass the clinical exam, and that’s no small thing.”  My gut twisted just thinking about it, but unlike the written exam, there was little I could do to prepare.  Either I knew how to perform as a doctor or I did not.  The long months since I’d last treated a patient loomed like a large shadow over that question.

“Och, yer bum’s oot the window Claire,” my friend dismissed blithely.  “Ye’re gonna do great.  When do ye head down tae yer homeland, then?”

“May first.”  The practical examination took place in Manchester and needed to be scheduled three months in advance.

“Sounds like ye’ve got some time on yer hands.  Whate’er are ye going tae do with yerself?” Geillis asked in a singsong voice.

Fortunately for me, spring was Edinburgh’s most pleasant season.  Its many gardens and laneways erupted in carpets of buds and blooms.  The air smelled fresh and green, like biting into a tart apple.  I took long walks and fell in love with the city I now called home.  There were secondhand bookstores to explore and a weekly craft market where I gradually amassed an assortment of items that made my flat feel like a home.  With each passing day, my existence felt more and more like a life; one I defined for myself.

I also started to explore my options for employment, hoping for a job offer from one of the city’s hospitals that was conditional upon my successful completion of the licensing process.  It was to that end that I found myself walking down the corridor of The Royal Edinburgh hospital after what I hoped had been a rather successful interview with the deputy director of surgery.

“Claire?”

I recognized her voice immediately.  Before turning around I closed my eyes and sent out a fervent appeal to the universe.

“Jenny, hi.  How are you?”

She looked just the same, her straight black hair such a contrast to her brother.  Next to her stood a man, but not the man I had conjured the moment I heard her voice.  I was unclear whether that meant my prayer had been answered or not.  Seeing my gaze stray, Jenny jumped to introductions.

“This is my husband, Ian.  We’re here fer treatment on his leg.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”  

“Jes a fitting fer a new prosthetic.  Jenny keeps beatin’ me o’er the head with the old one, ye see.”  I laughed, instantly liking his easy-going manner, so in contrast with Jenny’s intensity.

“Ye must be the Claire I hear sae much about,” he went on, and I wondered what had been said about me in the Fraser household.

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

Ian smiled warmly.  “Only good things, I promise ye.”

“What brings ye tae the hospital, Claire?” Jenny interjected.

I explained how I was in the process of qualifying to practice medicine in Scotland, provided I could pass my exams.  Jenny and Ian were both delighted, congratulating me as though I’d already accomplished my goal.  As we spoke about Wee Jamie’s latest exploits and the ongoing growth of Ginger Snap, I couldn’t help notice that Jenny was staring at my hands.  At my left hand in particular.  Finally, I couldn’t resist temptation any longer.

“And, how is Jamie doing?”  I tried to sound casual, but I was certain my faltering voice betrayed me.

“Very well,” Jenny replied.  “Busy, as ye can imagine, but he thrives on chaos.”

I nodded, trying to be satisfied with the news that he was well.  It was the most I could hope for, really.  Jenny eyed me shrewdly before continuing.

“He’s a good man, my brother.  Any lass would be verra lucky tae have him.  I’d like tae see him settled, but he refuses tae be rushed.  Says the right woman is worth the wait.”  She paused before adding,  “I reckon ye ken wha’ he means.”

“Yes,” I breathed.  “I know exactly what he means.”

***

I took the overnight train from Edinburgh to Manchester.  It meant I was likely to arrive at the testing centre deprived of sleep, but I rationalized that most of my residency could be characterized as one long evaluation under similar conditions, and I hadn’t killed anyone yet.  Still, as the velvety darkness slipped by outside my window, studded by the lights of passing farms, my doubts got the better of me.

I texted Geillis, looking for moral support.  For once she didn’t reply immediately.  There was one other name on my laughably short list of contacts.  I deliberated for all of a minute, but the late hour and creeping panic made me impulsive.

Hello.

Best to start with something innocuous, rather than the slightly more revealing “I miss you.  I think about you every day.”  A reply bubble appeared immediately after I hit send.  At least I hadn’t woken him up.  A small tempest stirred in my gut.

Arsonist.  Hello.  How are you?

I tried to picture him.  Was he at home?  Working late?  Or, in a scenario that played out far too often in my mind, on a date?

I’m alright.  Well, to be honest, I feel like I’m going to puke and cry.  Not necessarily in that order.

Och, lass.  Do you need me to come over?

Damn it, this man.  I had done nothing to deserve his unswerving loyalty but mislead him and then disappear for months on end.  And yet here he was, willing to come to my aid on the flimsy pretext of a late night text.  Guilt and tenderness warred for possession of my heart.

That may prove a bit difficult, Jamie.  I’m on a train to England.

There was a long pause, and then a two letter reply.

Oh.

I realized at once that he’d leapt to the wrong conclusion: that I had left Edinburgh for good.  I rushed to correct the error.

I’m taking the second stage of my examination to practice as a NHS doctor tomorrow.   It’s all hands-on situations, and the licensing facility is in Manchester.

Arsonist, that’s wonderful news!  I’m so proud of you.

I blushed, then leaned my heated cheek against the chilled pane of glass.  It had been a rash impulse, but this conversation was exactly what I needed.  I wasn’t alone in this.  Geillis and Jamie were in my corner.

What has your stomach in a twist, then?

What if I’ve forgotten what to do?!  It’s been almost a year since I’ve so much as used a stethoscope, Jamie.  The exam is eighteen real-life situations and you’re given eight minutes to respond to each one.  Not a second longer.  I’m just...  what if I fail?

And there it was.  The kernel of fear that lived at the heart of everything I did.  What if I failed?   What if my best wasn’t good enough?

Claire, listen to me.  You’re a doctor, just as I am a chef.  It wouldn’t matter if I had not set foot in a kitchen in ten years, I would still remember how to cook, and I know that it’s the same for you.  I believe it with everything in me.

On some level, I knew that he was right.  But it still comforted me tremendously to hear it from someone I trusted.

Alright.  That helps.  I should let you get to bed.  Thank you for talking me off my ledge, Jamie.

Anytime, Arsonist.

As I got ready sign off, another text bubble appeared.

Oh, and Claire?  Don’t burn down their wee laboratory, okay? ;-)

I laughed out loud, muting my phone and reclining my seat.  Outside, the stars shone brightly, tiny fires in the firmament to guide me on my way.

***

It was a lovely late spring day, and the retractable doors to the fire station were open to the warm breeze.  I could hear Angus’ voice as he led a cooking demonstration for a group of young women; a bridal shower by the look of their ridiculous costumes.

“Mind the coriander, lass.  Tis a verra powerful aphrodisiac, ken?  I willna be held responsible if ye canna resist my considerable charms after ye eat yon soup.”

There was an outburst of giggles as I rounded the corner and entered the reception area.  Jenny was on the phone.  She halted mid-sentence when she saw me walk in.  I rubbed my hands down the front of my jeans, trying to stay calm.

“He’s in the storeroom, in the back,” Jenny prompted before I could even offer a greeting.  I smiled gratefully, relieved I didn’t have to make small talk.  I had only so much courage stored in reserve, and I didn’t want to use it all up before reaching my destination.

The storeroom was long and narrow, lit by a single naked bulb and girded with shelves.  Jamie stood with his broad back to the door, his curls absorbing the light like amber.  He had a clipboard in one hand, performing some kind of inventory.

“Jes how many lentils dae ye reckon we need, Janet?  There’s nine cans of them here already, and ye have us ordering ten more.”

I’d almost forgotten how much I loved his voice, the undulating grit and silk of it.  I had to remaster the art of speech before I could reply.

“It’s not Jenny.  It’s me.  Claire.”

He froze, and if it weren’t for the sudden rapid flow of his breath I would have assumed he hadn’t heard me.  My nerves got the better of me and I blurted out, “I like lentils.  You should listen to your sister.”

“Claire.”  More sigh than word.  He slowly turned.  It was when our eyes met that I knew nothing had changed for him.  It was still there, after all these months.  That look that told me I was the map to his journey, the focus to his vision, the reason to his why.  

Hopefully he could read that same certainty on my face.

“I passed my exams,” I began.  “I’m a doctor again.”

“Ye never stopped bein’ a doctor.  This jus’ makes it official.”

“I’m still a disaster in the kitchen,” I continued.  “Last week I ruined two saucepans.”

“Tha’s only a tragedy if ye dinna have someone willin’ tae cook fer ye,” he replied with a strange squinting motion I understood was meant to be a wink.

“I’m still learning who I am.  How to be true to the person on the inside,” I confessed.  This is what had kept me away for so long, worried that I would escape from Frank’s orbit just to be caught up in another.  Jamie never once expected my submission, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t offer it out of habit.

“I’ll let ye in on a secret.  Sae is everyone else,” he replied.

Without realizing it, we’d both been moving until we were crowded together amongst the dried herbs and canned goods.  My hand rested against the solid metronome of his heart.  Just one more confession to go.

“I burn for you in a way I’ve never burned for anything before.”

There.  It was said.  A thousand wings of rapture beat against the cage of my ribs, clamoring to break free.  Jamie carefully pushed a loose curl behind my ear before cupping my jaw.

“Wee arsonist.  Come, set my life on fire.”

[jnixz]

More brain level notes

One thing I noticed added on to pn2 mindscapes is that it isn’t just original assets specific to the mindscapes anymore, but there are replication of assets and structures taken from the overworld. They also generally more influence to what the mindscapes have for locations.

Here are my notes on levels with that in mind.

Loboto’s Labyrinth

The most we see that is accurate his laboratory at Thorney Towers. You can see the similar landscape of that area and even WRPSC from a distance, same with the scary looking clouds (while they don’t exactly look like faces anymore, they still can look like it)

Oh there is also that layout parallel between the Boss’s office area and Truman’s Grotto, what with the water entrance and big office space hinting at you.

Hollis’s Classroom/Hot-streak

The hospital entrance, seems to be a close copy of what we see in her memory vault. I’m assuming a lot of the hospital areas are close to what the aesthetics of that place was like, as well as equipment.

Compton Cookout

Not much other than what appears in the tv screens during the phase where compton cooks and you are defeating minions on the boss bottle (or maybe it was when you toss the dish?). The textures on the screens can be seen in Motherlobe computers, and most of the screen in this level are cameras concentrated on Motherlobe areas.

Also there are the bonus gift boxes with the same aesthetic as his hat. I think that’s the only one where it fits his fancy style there (other than the first judge miniboss looking fancy like compton)

One headcanon I have is that Compton actually does own those animal themed kitchen implements. And also that Ram-it-down show has got to be a parody of actual cooking shows he has watched, I mean he got his TV in psychoisolation have a cooking show on.

Psi-king Sensorium

Eye shrine zone reminding Helmut of their old stage set-up aka GNG what with the pine trees and all. Also that main area is also where Helmut got his actual stage set-up, right at GNG.

Feel mobile~~ 

Campground areas being very similar to the Questionable Area?. Dr. Touch having similar style to Otto’s coat and Audie-o having the same outfit as Bob’s wedding outfit. 

Concession stands are probably where Lumberstack Diner is at, but is not represented there.

Ford’s Fractured Mind

The fact that job places are replicated or copied so well in the mindscape gets me. 

Strike City has its copy present the most in its starting areas. Like the same carpet as the Motherlobe bowling alley. Stuff like bowling lightbulbs, the shoe-shaped shoe rack, photo-booth are the same as the one in ‘Ford and Lucy’s First Date‘ bowling slide. I wouldn’t be surprised if the menu in that snack bar also had the same menu as the memory. Hell I think he may even actually remember the score sheet as it was.

Ford’s Follicles has the exact salon assets scattered around the level. There’s even a bottle of hydrocide in the actual salon which is interesting. Very interesting to have the magazine and newspaper of what happened be placed in the corridors with the salon environment. Also, the realistic Grulovian structure in the flood starting to appear not just as hair structures right after the 2nd set of mites.

Cruller’s Correspondence’s entire level layout is similar to that motherlobe mail room layout. Swirling letters at the center, typewriter area at the right, most of the important shelves by its left, and even the ceiling texture. A lot of effective asset reuse in this one, like the letters and stamps, which is very fascinating. Oh and can’t forget the bomb package :)

Tomb of Sharkophagus got that spooky forest before the graveyard. Haven’t checked if it’s trees in GNG or QA? but I wouldn’t be suprised if it was. Then tiny bits of assets here and there as it goes on, and then bits of the Heptadome as well as an accurate copy of the Astralathe. Then finally a big ol’ copy of the Aquato Caravan in the forest (enough that it might fool players for a bit that they were still in the mind level when Raz was running).

Bonus: Pretty sure the backer trailer uses the same set-up as the first time we dove into Ford’s mind with the campfire. So like woah, other than the canoe sequence and shattered building, this is like a really realistic/non-dreamlike asset design of the Brain Levels, replicating actual locations as they were in the overworld. 

The fact that the mindscape for this Ford is this place where he carved all his friends, and not his sanctuary underground making me feel things again. (also like, the place where he can remember everything on his own. hnnsfjshdkf adding this to the subconsciously knew he needed to be gathered again evidence list in my brain)

Cassie’s Collection

Other than the mess of books everywhere, in the upper area where the rest of the psychic 7 mental constructs are at, the wallpaper is similar to the one cassie has on her house. Same with the picture frames of her family, bees, her & compton, and the psychic 7 with the astralathe.

Bob’s Bottles

1st bottle with Tia -- I think the hallways are close to what the aesthetics of his previous home was like. Tia’s greenhouse in the memory vault vs Bob’s greenhouse in gng look similar but Bob’s is more expanded on and has a different design on the entrance.

2nd bottle with Psychonauts -- Motherlobe area, atrium without the mural

3rd bottle w/ Helmut -- Feel Mobile again with the floral arc decor we saw in helmut’s mind too

Lucrecia’s Lament

The baggages that build up the dams are the same assets as the ones with the Aquatos and their caravan. Also I personally think she had that locket of her and her twin before.

Fatherland Follies 

Lady Lucktopus Casino -- a complete replica of what we see in the earlier mission. All the other rest of the mindscape are probably a similar enough prop for how grulovia architecture looked like, as well as that motherlobe hq dome. If it’s not a prop then its just those eerie backstage areas that don’t even have a lot to them which adds to the atmosphere tbh.

I imagine the painted portraits are the same from what the Maliks would have had in their castle. Same with the minor stuff G tiling and his mother’s scepter and crown stuff. All that Royal stuff

So yeah, theres the funky brain level designs but also little bits of overworld elements inspired in there. Great use of it really. You could say it makes the mindscapes more grounded than the ones we explore in the first game.