#cress can throw down

[justminawrites]

Satellites

AO3

1 | 2 | TBC

Jacin woke with a splitting headache.

It didn’t take more than three seconds for his lunar guard training to kick in: Rope. Chair. Feet. Metal. Breathing. Cress. 

As his eyes adjusted to the complete lack of light in the room, Jacin flexed his wrists, which he found were tied behind his back with a length of plastic-resin cord– standard issue for lunar prisoners. 

Rope. 

He was sitting on a hard, uncomfortable metal surface, but from what he could tell everything around him was metal. The seat was metal, the ground under him was metal– either they were in a  shipping container, or a torture chamber. 

Jacin tried to ignore the pounding in his head, echoing like drum beats, like the military exercises he’d once been so eager to playact, when he was young and naïve enough to believe in his country. 

He’d noticed immediately that whoever had tied him up had taken his shoes, and tried his best to repress a shudder as the cold leached into his bare skin and crawled up his legs, leaving tiny goosebumps in its wake. 

Chair. Feet. Metal. And the last one was– 

“Cress,” Jacin called quietly, shifting his arms in an attempt to loosen his binds. 

She was cuffed to him, the two of them back to back, and still unconscious - he could feel her petite frame pressed against him, sharp shoulder blades digging into his spine, and tried his best to shake her awake.

“Cress,” he repeated urgently, wondering for a second if they’d drugged her harder than him for some reason.

“Uhn.. no Carol.. I can’t come in.. today.”

Jacin tried not to feel too relieved at the sound of her mumbling. This plan would go much slower if he was the only one awake to execute it. 

He twisted his hands a little, grabbing the closest thing he could reach (the skin of her forearm) and pinched. Hard. 

“Mm.. what– OW!” Cress shrieked, jolting from the pain, but he instantly shushed her.

“We don’t have much time,” He hissed as she took a second to take in her surroundings, “–if I’m right, they’ll start it up the moment we show signs of being conscious.”

“Start what?” She shot back, still emotionally stinging from the wound, “What’s going on?”

“Let me get out of these ties first.”

As Jacin worked to quietly slip out of the ropes, Cress swore (that was new), turning this way and that, making it difficult for him. 

“They took it!” She whisper-shouted in panic, “They took my shoes, they took everything– oh stars."

Jacin finally grabbed her hands to make her stop. 

“They must’ve searched us before they locked us in here,” He explained as patiently as he could,

“That’s probably why you’re missing your taser.”

“No you don’t understand, they took the– wait how’d you end up here?”

Jacin let go of her and continued to work his hands free. After a few seconds, he managed to get one of them loose and released a long, drawn out breath. 

“Drugged,” He said matter-of-factly, “Same as you. I managed to get the one hiding in the hover but there must’ve been a sniper in one of the opposite buildings.”

Cress stayed quiet for a few seconds and just when he thought she was about to apologise for involving him in all this, she huffed,

“I knew it! I knew this was a bigger deal than everyone said! Take that, Carol.”

Jacin’s jaw twitched. They really hadn’t been friends for a while.

The Cress he knew was so filled with doubt and uncertainty, even on her best day, that she spent half her time clinging to her boyfriend like he was some kind of social screen through which she could filter out any potential rejection.

It had been six long years since the lunar revolution, but everything about Cress seemed to have changed in the last 6 months - since he’d left Artemisia and she’d begun her new job as a member of the ISA (Information Security Analyst) Department of the Lunar Government.

Even in his wildest dreams, Jacin wouldn’t have pegged her for a patriot, much less a civil servant; Cress was the last person from their old crew he’d envision carrying a gun and reporting back to someone, and that included the Emperor. 

“No please, don’t thank me for singlehandedly orchestrating our rescue,” He replied wryly, freeing his other hand and stretching his cramped muscles, before turning around to untie hers.

“Huh, oh thanks, Jacin,” Cress said absent-mindedly, shifting around in the dark once he’d pulled away the rope.

“Sorry for getting you inv– oh, I knew it! It is gone!”

“Whatever it is, it can wait,” Jacin said, rising to his feet. 

The room was still completely dark, so he reached for the nearest wall and began to walk alongside it, gauging its perimeter. 

The wall was smooth, but with sharp corners, not disproving his shipping container theory, and the room was about as big as a lunar palace bathroom, or a medium-sized swimming pool. Once he’d paced the length twice, Jacin started to look for any telltale grooves or panels that might hint at there being a trapdoor.

“Find anything?” He nearly flinched as Cress’s soft whisper tickled his left ear. She’d gotten taller; another thing he didn’t recognise about her. 

“What’d they take?” He asked, instead of answering the question, “–besides your shoes.”

“My jacket, my weapons, and the USB I had on me, with all the details about the encryption glitch.”

Cress didn’t sound angry, just puzzled, as though she was trying to get into the headspace of the attacker who’d done this to them. He couldn’t see her face, but he imagined her wrinkling her nose in frustration and clamped down on the sudden urge to snort. Jacin would never admit it, even to himself, but he’d missed her.

“Isn’t it strange? Why would they take our shoes?” Cress wondered out loud, her voice moving from his left to his right, “Just to check for weapons?”

“Could be just to mess with our heads,” He shrugged, “Psychological torture.”

“Wow,” She whistled, “You haven’t changed one bit. How do you say the scariest things with a straight face?”

“You can’t see my face,” Jacin countered, still feeling up the wall, “I could be smiling.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile.”

“And you never will,” He promised, now knocking on the metal to check for hollow spots.

“Aha!” 

Jacin turned away just in time as a sharp spear of white light sliced through the darkness and shone right onto his face. He blinked away brown spots as the flashlight now pointed to the wall he’d been blindly examining, Cress on the tail end of it, holding what looked like a tube of lipstick.

“Lip-light!” She said helpfully, though he hadn’t bothered to ask. The unexpected brightness had only confirmed what he’d been afraid of.

“Nothing,” Jacin said flatly, a flicker of fear colouring his tone. The walls were as smooth as the floor; there was no way out.

Cress didn’t say anything as he sunk to the floor, his back to the wall and tried to focus on a solution. Maybe the perpetrators would attempt to contact with them through a built-in speaker. Or some kind of chute? But he knew that it’d be too late by then; they were goners if they waited for any kind of acknowledgement from the people who’d kidnapped them.

Jacin watched Cress wander around the room in no particular order, shining her lipstick-flashlight in each corner before finally coming to sit beside him. He hadn’t realised he’d shifted away until she shook her head in disbelief.

“Really, Jacin? I’m not contagious, y’know,” she huffed, hugging her knees to her chest.

“So those yoga pants were a deliberate decision then?” He couldn’t help himself.

“Ha. Ha.” She switched off the light, plunging them into darkness again, “I get it. You’re too cool to hang out with your nobody friends now.”

“I never said that.”

“Well, you sure act like it,” Cress sighed, her voice sounding strangely old, “Scarlet and Wolf ask about you all the time, even Iko wants to know why you never reply to her comms or her vidlink invites or the e-birthday-cards she sends every year.”

Jacin noticed she’d chosen to omit a certain space Captain from her list of well-wishers but refrained from asking why. It wasn’t his business, after all.

“Scarlet asks about me?” He said instead. 

He remembered the redheaded Earthen girl Winter had so impulsively befriended; the two had gotten off on the wrong foot, and it was impossible to imagine them tolerating one another, much less her actively being concerned for his well-being.

“You haven’t shown up for the last three anniversary dinners,” Cress listed off the top of her head.

“You never participate in our group vidlinks– even Cinder turns up and she’s a princess for star’s sake!– and, up until a few weeks ago you didn’t even set foot outside Artemisia.”

“This has nothing to do with Winter,” Jacin replied reflexively. Maybe he’d gotten used to the temperature, but the room seemed oddly humid now, something like sweat prickling the back of his neck.

She gasped like she’d caught him in the act, “And don’t get me started on that whole scandal with Princess Winter! I commed you so many times–“

“Cress,” He warned, “Drop it.” 

“It would’ve been nice to get a comm back y’know,” she pressed, “I was worried about you.”

His breath caught in his throat.

“I’m worried about you.”

Winter turned her big, doe-like eyes on him, closing the box he’d just given her. Blood and shame coloured his cheeks, and he was glad no one else was around to see them.

“Look at me.”

She took his pale, shaking hands in her own steady ones.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

“Jacin?”

He snapped awake like he’d been shot. 

Jacin was splayed out on the floor, blinking away a shorter blackout than what he was used to. Cress hovered over him, her cool fingers on his sweaty brow, the lip-light illuminating the grey, stony ceiling above them. 

He caught her wrists and pushed them away. Gently, he hoped, as her eyes flashed with hurt. 

“Please,” he said tightly, propping himself up, I just need some space. She pursed her lips but scooted back.

The air had gotten thicker, a humid soup bowl of sweat and the faint smell of burnt plastic, and both he and Cress were sweating now. He reached behind him, pressing one palm to the wall in confusion and felt it pulse with warmth. What?

“Was that normal?” Cress asked finally, looking over his shoulder, “Do you faint like that regularly?”

“I don’t faint,” He replied, absent-mindedly checking the ground beside him for where he’d tossed their ropes. 

“Jacin you just collapsed out of nowhere,” concern bled into her voice, “Are you seeing a doctor?”

“I’m fine, Cress.”

Jacin waved her away as his hands found the thick, white cords that’d been used to tie them up. Parts of the plastic-resin had melted into itself, softening and curling into useless putty, while the rest stayed firm.

“But–“

“Pass me the light.” He said, his voice sharp. 

She handed over the lip-light, startled, and he rose quickly, now heading over to the metal bench they’d been tied to. Jacin turned the little flashlight to the ceiling right above it and swore. Loudly. He should’ve known. 

His sudden outburst drew Cress from her place on the floor and she looked up to the small panel illuminated by the light. A thin groove along the wall, nearly imperceptible if you weren’t looking for it specifically but big enough for a person to get out of if they managed to flip it open.

“Quick,” he said, handing her back the flashlight, “Get on my back.”

She hesitated for a few seconds before he grabbed her arm and placed the lip-light in her palm, closing her fist over it.

“Cress,” He tried not to tint his words with the bitter tang of fear that was already churning in his stomach.

“We need to go now. This whole place's about to become a sweatbox.”

Her eyes widened.

Jacin had suspected as much, the moment he’d woken from the drug-haze. Though he hadn’t been assigned to oversee the torture of criminals and political prisoners under Levana’s rule, he’d watched as those who were returned to the barracks covered in scars and grime, whispering amongst themselves about entire rooms undergoing severe renovations to accommodate the Queen’s insatiable appetite for large-scale persecution.

One of those rooms was this: made of volcanic rock and metal, the hot air released into the room would be trapped within its walls, ideal for inflicting severe dehydration, intense burns, or even death (based on their crimes), without the unnecessary need for human contact. The method was so impassive and guilt-free, Jacin would’ve commended Levana’s ingenuity, if he didn’t hate her with every fibre of his being.

The only problem was, he had no way of knowing wether their attackers intended on slowly wasting them away, or burning them to a crisp, but he didn’t want to stay and find out. 

“Alright,” Cress said finally, popping the lip-light between her teeth.

Jacin turned and crouched obediently, waiting for her to climb onto his back. 

A few awkward seconds later (she was heavier than he remembered too), Jacin climbed onto the metal bench, his bare feet bristling with discomfort - the chair was hotter than the floor - and waited for her to push open the grooved panel.

Cress’s arms barely reached the ceiling, her legs swinging from his shoulders, but she didn’t complain.

“‘ow’d you mow ao’out dis exshhit amyway?” She mumbled from above him, flashlight still in her mouth.

“Training.” He replied curtly, but continued when he felt her stiffen, “One of the guards got trapped in a sweatbox-room once and I helped get him out.”

Cress fell silent for a few minutes, and all he could hear was the sound of scraping as her hands struggled to find purchase on the metal.

“There’s some kind of weight on it,” She said out of breath, tucking the lip-light away, “I can’t push it open.”

“I think I need to stand.”

He paled. The metal under his feet had begun to sear.

“I don’t know if that’s–“

It was too late, she was already hosting herself up using both her hands and feet, as Jacin did his best to keep his balance without burning his foot off. The longest ten seconds of his life later, Cress was able to push open the creaky panel a fraction, her feet firmly plastered on his shoulders.

“See anything?” He called, wiping away the sweat that dripped into his eyes. 

“Like what?” She whispered back, trying to peek through the opening. He could think of a few things. Guns. Guards. Security cameras, depending on where they were.

“Anything.” He repeated instead.

Cress huffed and attempted to push the wall again, recoiling in shock from the heat. 

“It’s burning– Are you–“

“I’ll live,” he grit his teeth, “Any progress on that escape hatch?”

She shook her head instead of answering and proceeded to lean all her weight onto the panel instead. Jacin wondered if the hiss of flesh on metal was coming from above or below him.

The hatch creaked again, this time longer and more pronounced, and Cress let out another happy Aha! before struggling to pull herself up and out. 

He felt the weight on his shoulders disappear slowly, then all at once, and looked up to see that a portion of the wall was fully open, gaping out into the night sky. 

Jacin felt his throat tighten for the second time that day.

How long had it been since he’d seen the stars?

At one point in his life, the stars were the only things that’d kept him going. No, that wasn’t completely true: Winter had been the only thing that’d kept him going. 

He lived for her, he breathed for her. He’d died for her. Again and again. But now she was gone. Sitting somewhere far within the depths of the palace in Artemisia, smiling and laughing and loving someone else. Watching the stars with someone who wasn’t him.

“There’s a rope-ladder thing here,” Cress popped into frame, blotting out the stars with her curled blonde bangs, and Jacin caught himself just in time. The knife-twist in his heart had momentarily distracted him from his burning feet. 

“Just grab on, I’ll try to pull you up as far I can.”

A few seconds later, what looked like a climbing rope made out of interlocking metal links, dropped down from the opening. 

Jacin shook his head and grabbed onto the chain, clearing his thoughts. Enough. This wasn’t the time or place to sit and mope like a beaten dog. He’d have plenty of time for regret, once he was back in his apartment, alone, where he could spend the rest of his days blacking out.

The chain went taught as he began to climb and it was all he could do not to imagine Cress on the other side, pulling and pulling to keep him up. He grabbed ahold of the burning metal and hoisted himself onto the roof, sweat sizzling as it dripped off his arms, and collapsed on his side.

As he took gasping breaths, his burnt skin scalding under the cool night air; he felt the vibrations of the metal as Cress too flopped down beside him, the edges of her pixie cut tickling his cheek. 

For one brief beautiful moment, Jacin pretended it was Winter laying beside him instead. That it was Winter’s soft curls on his face, and her honeyed giggle that would echo into the dawn that drew close. 

Any second now he would turn to the side, and she would look up at him with her gold-flecked eyes and say I do. Of course I do, Jacin. I love you, with that sweet, lilting voice of hers and everything would be okay. She wouldn’t close the box, she wouldn’t take his hands, she wouldn’t say the dreaded words that left him so empty he’d nearly drank himself to death.

“Hey.. are.. okay..” 

Her voice trailed away as he closed his eyes, stars imprinted on the back of his eyelids. Any second now. 

[back2bluesidex]

The Conclusion - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi X Manager!Reader.

Theme: PWP, SMUT

Word count: 1.5k+

Summary: After a break-up Yoongi comes to you and you give in to the temptation just to put a conclusion later on.

Warnings: SMUT, grinding, oral (female receiving)

A part of Patreon Membership special series Words That Are Unsaid. But you can read this as a standalone.

Series Masterlist

Read the full series on Patreon now.

There should be a ton of questions in your mind, you should detach yourself from Yoongi’s body and create some respectful distance between you two. But you can’t think of anything other than the way Yoongi is devouring your lips. 

As if he has been deprived of physical contact for all these times (which definitely is not the case). 

Yoongi licks the seam of your lips, asking for entrance. Even though your body and hormones scream at you for giving up. You don’t. 

“Why did you break up?” you ask against his lips. 

He parts for a moment to answer your query, “I told you, it was an act and now the show is over.”  

You take heavy, long breaths and continue, “but still, this is not right.” 

Yoongi doesn’t respond to that, he smirks as he leans down to kiss you again. This time the kiss is more hungry, rough and invasive with demand. 

His hands find their way to your waist and he digs his finger nails on your flesh. You yelp, he takes the chance to enter in your mouth, swirling his tongue to every possible corner he can reach. 

He tastes like bourbon - he tastes delicious. 

Your hands move on their own accord and wind themselves around Yoongi’s slender neck. You have always loved his long dark hair, so your fingers get lost in his locks, tugging, pulling and scratching his scalp to elicit a whiney moan. 

“You sure you don’t want this?” Yoongi asks in between the kisses. 

The question is vile because you want this. You have been wanting this for a long time now but no matter what - having sex with Min Yoongi at this moment is not right. Not when you are still bound by the contract. 

But desire, lust, need and want - these are more powerful than morality at times. And now is one of those times when you can’t seem to tame your racing heart, wild thoughts. All you want is Yoongi. 

So you give in. 

You answer his question by pushing your own tongue in his parted mouth. You moan in his mouth, making him shudder under your touch. 

Yoongi places one of his hands under your thighs and another around your back. He hoists you up in bridal style. 

“Bedroom?” he asks briefly. His brown orbs are already dark with lust. 

You point towards your bedroom. 

He throws you on the bed not-so-gently as he climbs on top of you, kissing you again. His hands are everywhere. On your chest, on your sides, under your tshirt. He cresses every part of your body so gently as if you are made of porcelain. 

The warmth of his body seeps through the layer of clothing and thaws every frozen part of yours. 

This is finally happening. Yoongi is in your arms. He is desperate for you. He wants you just as much you want him and most definitely doesn’t hate you as you have always believed. 

Even if you are morally (or legally) wrong right now, you can still go to sleep peacefully. Finally - finally everything has started falling in their right places. 

Yoongi’s mouth cleverly leaves your lips and marks their way down the path of your throat. He doesn’t shy away from painting all kinds of bruises on your skin. He sucks on the juncture of your shoulder and neck extra hard, making your toes curl. You exhale a breath in the form of his name. 

Yoongi grabs the hem of your tshirt and pulls his mouth away from your body only for a moment. He looks deeply into your eyes as if to ask for permission. When you give him a silent nod, he pulls the piece of clothing away from your body. 

“Fuck. no bra?” He groans. If you weren’t wet before then you are definitely dripping now. 

You still manage to chuckle quietly, “who wears bras at home, Yoongi?” 

“Umm” he makes an approving noise before ducking his head and taking a nipple inside his mouth. He sucks on your bud slowly, building the heat just the way you like. You start squirming under his hold. 

Your mind has already started getting hazy. There is nothing you can focus on properly. 

Evading your sensory system, Yoongi slips his right hand past the waistband of your shorts. You only register what he is up to when his fingers brush through your clothed folds. 

“Yoongi-” you whine. 

“You’re soaking, baby. Always so ready for me.” he says with a mouthful of your tits. His unoccupied hand tugs at your other nipple, making you groan in pain and pleasure at the same time. 

“I’m getting rid of these.” Yoongi stands on the bed, reaches for the remainder of your clothes and undresses you with one swift go. 

His efficiency shocks you but then you remind yourself that he has been sleeping around with more people than you can count on your fingers (toes included). 

“I have missed you so much.” Yoongi’s eyes are trained on your cunt - as if he is talking to it. 

His middle finger juts out and he places that flatly on your clit and he drags his digit down through your folds. 

A shiver runs down the path of your spine. 

It’s been so long since you have had a man touching you like this. The last one to touch you was Yoongi himself. 

So having your private parts exposed before his hungry eyes, as he invades your space in the dirtiest possible way - shuts down your system. 

“I have missed this so much.” he whispers again, all while his fingers circle on your clit, making a pool of arousal gush out of your entrance. 

“Oh re-really? Then what about the parade of girls that exited your bedroom ever-so-often? You- tau-taught them rap or somethi-ahh” you bite back but your sentence comes to an abrupt stop when Yoongi probes his finger inside you. 

“You talk too much, baby. Fuck- so tight. Gotta stretch you out.” he mumbles. His finger assaults your hole for a while before he adds another one to make things worse for you. 

All of your coherent thoughts have shut down by now. You can only think of how much you have missed this - Yoongi, his body pressed on you, his smart mouth, his long slender fingers and everything else. 

Your eyes close as pleasure clouds your mind. The coil in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. But when you feel Yoongi’s tongue licking stripes off of your folds, it threatens to rip off. 

“Yoongi” you moan his name and you know it strokes his ego. 

“Umm..sph gooph” Yoongi talks in your cunt. His long dark hair tickles your inner thighs. 

Your eyes roll back with the continuous abuse of Yoongi’s tongue on your clit. He makes it tough for you to keep your eyes open. 

“Yoongi” you say again. 

His fingers seizures in your hole as his tongue draws rough circles on your clit. 

“Gonna c-cum” you warn before a strong orgasm washes over you. 

When Yoongi detaches himself and looks at you, you find his chin and jaw drenched with your arousal. There is a maddening look in his eyes. 

“You came so much, huh?” Yoongi asks in a smug tone. He undresses himself little by little, you don’t shy away from drinking him in. 

“You have a condom?” you question all of a sudden, kind of ruining the mood. 

“Oh. no?” Yoongi’s bad boy aura drains and now who you see is just a confused kitten. 

“Then you know, I don’t think it will be safe for us to…” Yoongi nods at that. He doesn’t take off his underwear. 

“Then can I just..” his words trail off as he lowers himself on your freshly fucked cunt. His prominent bulge presses against your clit. 

You hiss. 

“Fuck, Yoongi!” you whine. 

He increases the pressure and starts rocking his hip. His bulge rubs against your cunt deliciously, you can help but moan his name more and more. 

“You feel so fucking good.” Yoongi says at one point. Your forehead is now heavy with droplets of sweat but his hips don’t cease for a moment. 

All while you feel yourself getting closer to your edge again. 

However, you take the chance to reach out to Yoongi’s body and place sweet kisses all over his slender throat, clavicle and upper chest. 

Yoongi’s mouth hangs open with the torture, his rhythym breaks and you know he is getting close to his high. 

With a few more grinds and the assault of your lips, Yoongi cums in his underwear. The expensive underwear takes up a darker shade with the impact. 

“Shit, fuck!” he curses rapidly. 

His heavy, sweaty body falls on the top of your body. He doesn’t show a tiny bit of uncomfort even when his wet-with-semen underwear presses on to your naked core. He tugs his nose on the crook of your neck. 

“Yoongi..” you call softly. He hums as an answer. 

“I have something to tell you.. It’s serious.” you let the bedroom air get tensed with your proposition. 

“I thought we were already done with the serious shit?” he groans. Your skin vibrates with his voice. 

“I- I am not renewing my contract. I’m quitting.” Your statement sits like a burning flame.

[luvyeni]

❛SEVEN DAYS A WEEK❜ ( z. chenle )

p. zhong chenle x fem!reader w. 2.3k+

warnings? oral (m.), unprotected sex , public sex, shower sex, dry humping, dirty talk, squirting , nipple play , filth pure filth and little plot

— 𖦹 ( chenle challenges you to seven days of sex ) !

"do you think we'd be able to fuck everyday for a week?" chenle suddenly walks into your room. "excuse me?" you laughed. "i could — i could fuck you every day , every week for months if you let me." he said. "but that's not the point , do you think you'd be able to have sex for a full week , every single day?"

"where'd you get this idea from?" you asked , he sat down on the bed. "jungkooks new song." he rubbed your calf. "i was listening to it , and i got the thought." you shook your head. "of course you did." you said. "so , can we try it?"

you thought about it , ultimately nodding. "sure , let's try it." you said. "great , let's start now." he pulled you by your leg , climbing on top of you. "no , let's start tomorrow." he rolled his eyes. "don't roll your eyes , you said for a week , the week starts tomorrow."

MONDAY

chenle woke up the next morning , ready to start the day and the new challenge. he decided to start easy , something simple — waking you up by giving ypu head. this was something he did almost every morning anyways so it wouldn't be a surprise to wake up , finding your boyfriend between your legs.

"ch-chenle?" your eyes slowly opened , you could see his head poking from under the blanket. you pulled at the blanket , removing it , his lustful eyes meeting your sleepy one as he licked your folds. "fu-fuck." you moaned.

his nose brushed against your clit , sending shivers up your spine , you grabbed his hair , bucking your hips up into his face. "oh shit , chenle im not gonna last long." you mewled , feeling yourself not about to last long. "fuck , im gonna cum."

he hummed against your cunt , giving you the okay — you wrapped your legs around his head , cumming. "fuck!" you cursed , he pulled away his face covered in your juices. "jesus , you were wetter than usual this morning." he smirked. "were you thinking about the challenge." you slapped his arm.

"shut up."

TUESDAY

you had an early morning at work , you and chenle both work at sm , but you're working with their new boygroup , so you won't see him a lot today and you could tell he was extremely happy about this challenge , and you knew that after work you'd probably would be sleepy and not want to do it — so why not surprise him with morning sex.

you turned , facing your sleeping boyfriend , admiring his bareface , stubble growing from not shaving for a few days. your hand cressed his face , placing a kiss on his cheek , then on his neck — he sighed , eyes still closed. you smiled and kept going , your hand traveling down his stomach to the waistline of his pants.

"yah." his morning voice catching you off gaurd. "if you're trying to get me hard as a fucking rock , mission accomplished." his eyes opened , meeting yours. "you're supposed to be a sleep." you pouted. "i wanted to surprise you." you palmed him through his shorts. "fu-fuck , baby get on top." he groaned.

you took your shirt off , throwing it somewhere , your tits in his face as you climbed into his lap , your clothed heats pressed against each other. you pulled his cock from his pajamas , stroking his cock , hovering over his tip. "sit on it love." he grabbed your waist , sinking you down on his cock. "fu-fuck chenle."

you slowly rocked your hips back and forth , throwing your head back moaning. "fuck your pussy feels so good." he groaned , his hand coming up to squeeze your tits. "s-shit , move faster baby , we don't have a lot of time." his other hands came to your hips , moving you fast , bouncing you up and down on his cock. "fuuuck that's it , keep bouncing on my cock." he groaned. "shit m'not gonna last."

he rubbed your clit in harsh circles. "cum for princess." you kept moving , your orgasm washing over you , you hunched over , your face in his neck as he fucked up into you. "sh-shit gonna fill you up." he groaned. "ngh , fuck!" he held on to your waist as he came in your hole. "shit."

"chenle , you have to let me go , i have to get ready for work." you groaned as he held you. "no i won't see you at all today , i need to feel you somemore."

"chenle we live together."

WEDNESDAY

"chenle im home." you yelled. "in the room." you heard his voice , making your way into the room. "how was your day with your mom?" you nodded. "it was nice , im just ready to shower and go to bed." you took your clothes off.

"can i join?" he asked , standing up. "you never want to shower with me." you eyed him. "you just want to fuck." he smiled sheepishly , you rolled your eyes. "fine let's go." he got undressed , following behind you.

"fu-fuck." chenle moaning as he held you up against the wall , stroking his cock "please put it in." you lined him up with your cunt , sinking down on him , he groaned as his cock filled you up. "fuck you feel so good."

your hands tangled up in his hair , tugging at it as he fucked up into you , water cascading down his back. his plump lips coming around your nipples sucking on them , you mewled. "fu-fuck chenle."

the angle of his cock , hitting your gspot over and over. "ch-chenle , im not gonna last." you moaned , you stomach tightening. "gonna cum princess." he grunted , hitting your spot , you yelped. "yes fuck!"

he sped up his movement , furthering his orgasm. "cum , cum for me." he moaned , your mouth dropping into a 'o' shape as you came. "ngh , fuck!" his head dropped into your neck nipping at it , his balls tightening as he came.

letting you down , helping you wash up. "you're so pretty." you smiled , shoving his shoulder. "you're not getting another round , im tired." you said. "yah , i said that because i love you." you kissed his lips. "im sorry , i love you too."

"i'm willing to get past you putting the water temperature on hell , that's how much i love you."

THURSDAY

another day at work , another day of you working with sm new rookie group. chenle texting you all throughout the day , teasing you , telling you how horny he was , trying to throw you off your game. "(name)." you looked up from your make-up brushes. "it's time for your break , someone will cover your station." you nodded , sitting everything down , making your way out the room.

you were making your way to the cafeteria , when someone suddenly grabbed your arm , dragging you into a closet closing the door. "what fuck?" you finally saw the face. "chenle , what the hell , you scared me." you slapped his shoulder.

"why have you been ignoring my text?" he pushed you against the shelf. "i-im working." you whined as he left little kisses on your neck. "and all you're trying to do is rile me up." he undid his pants , letting them pool at his ankles , lifting you , wrapping your legs around his waist , his cock resting right under your ass.

"pl-please fuck me." you whimpered , he lined his cock up with your cunt , pushing himself inside. "must've worked princess." he smirked thrusting. "cause you're fucking dripping right now."

his thrust was quick and rushed , both of you not having enough time to waste. "fu-fuck , you're moaning so loud , they're gonna hear you being a little slut for me." he grunted , you clenched around you. "fuck , you're little pussy just clenched , you like the idea of people hearing me fuck you like a whore."

"oh my god -fuck- chenle im gonna cum." he knew how loud you'd get when you came , pressing his lips against yours as your eyes rolled to the back of your head , as you came , chenle following after.

he let you down , smirking when your legs wobbled. "i'm glad my pain is your happiness." he helped you clean up , kissing you once again.

"next time answer my text messages."

FRIDAY

"meet me in the bathroom." you mouthed to your boyfriend , who was sitting across the room — getting up , making your way into the restaurants bathroom , keeping the door unlocked , he entered soon after , smirking. "i thought i was sex crazy , but you seem to be getting more out of this challenge than i am."

you rolled your eyes , he locked the door. "please , you're just as sex crazy than i am , if not more." he grabbed your waist , turning you over , bending you over the sink , flipping your skirt up. "no panties?" he slapped your ass. "fuck!" you yelped.

"you made such a mess of your pussy , i bet you were dripping all over the chair." he pulled his pants down. "our friends are right next to you and you're only thinking about getting your pussy stuffed." he didn't waste anytime , slamming his cock into you. "chenle fuck!"

he held your waist , fucking into you , your ass bouncing against him. "fuck such a little slut." he grunted. "letting me fuck you like this." he grabbed your hair , pulling you flush against him. "like a whore in public."

you were moaning so loud , you were certain people would be able to hear. "you're being so loud baby , you have no shame if people hear you moaned for me like this , if our friends hear you screaming my name like this." he growled. "you gonna cum?" you nodded , mewled. "y-yes."

"fucking cum for me." his cock kissed your cervix , you bit your lip hard as you came , legs shaking. "fuck , gonna cum inside you." his cock twitching inside you as he released himself inside you.

he pulled his softening cock out , tucking himself away. "do you think they heard us?" he chuckled.

"even they did , they're gonna find out soon because my cum is dripping down your leg."

SATURDAY

both of you were lowkey tired , these past couple of days you both had been at it — and genuinely you were exhausted , but you still where horny , so you suggested clothed sex. "does dry humping still count as sex?" chenle climbed on top of you.

"do you want to cum tonight?" you said , he got the hint , slotting himself in between your legs , grinding against you , both of you moaning out. "fu-fuck this actually feels good." he sighed.

it wasn't the real thing , but it was just enough stimulations to give you pleasure , his hand coming under your tank top , toying with your nipple. "fu-fuck chenle."

he left little hickey's on your boobs , his hips faltering , the fabric from his sweats rubbing against his cock , giving him more friction , he knew he wasn't gonna last much longer. "fu-fuck im gonna cum." he grunted. "me too."

you both came , heavily breathing and sweaty. "i feel like a fucking teenager , cumming in my pants like this." he grimace. "you seemed to enjoy it a lot, the way you were moaning."

"i didn't say i hated it , i just don't necessarily like the feeling of being covered in cum."

SUNDAY

it was the last day of the challenge and chenle had definitely gotten his energy back , it was both you guys day off , and decided to have a in day. you thought he was trying to be cute , watch movies and eating snacks — no , you were very wrong , he wanted to spend the day just fucking.

it first started waking you up with oral like how he normally did , making you cum on his tongue multiple times , before finally letting you up , wiping his mouth.

then when you were cooking breakfast , he came up behind you , bending you over , fucking you against the kitchen sink , cumming inside you just before the food was done.

you both had cum so many times , you didn't understand where your boyfriend got all this stamina from , by night fall , you were extremely tired , but that didn't stop your chenle from climbing on top of you. "ch-chenle , i can't take anymore." you mewled as kissed your neck.

"one more round baby , i promise." he grinding against your heat. "you see how hard i am for you , please just one more time." you bit your lip , nodding your head. "thank you baby."

he pulled your panties to the side , pushing a finger inside. "you're so wet baby , and full of my cum." he pull his finger out , pressing it against your lips. "open." you open your mouth , his finger pushing inside your mouth. "good girl."

he freed his cock , pulling your panties to the side , slowly pushing his cock into your cunt , you hissed. "ch-chenle." he kissed your lips. "you got it baby , almost there." he groaned as he fully bottomed out. "good job." he praised.

he pulled out , thrusting back inside. "such a good girl , letting me fuck you all week." he grunted. "your poor pussy is all swollen , yet you're still taking me." he sped up his pace. "fu-fuck baby , im not gonna last long." he moaned into your ear.

you could feel your orgasm , your tightening around his cock. "ngh , fuck , fuck." he came inside you , pulling out , rubbing your abused clit. "go a head , cum for princess , make a mess." you were squirming around as he toyed with your clit. "oh , fuck , chenle im cumming!" you screamed , your juices spilling out of you. "fuck that's it , squirt for me." you legs shook as you came down from your orgasm. "jesus that was the hardest you've ever came princess."

he was so gentle afterwards , knowing how sore you were , washing your body and your hair — giving you some alone time , while he got dressed , changing the sheets , coming back to get you , wrapping you in a towel , dressing you in his shirt and some underwear , helping you back into the bed , climbing in next to you , cuddling you.

"so would you do this again." he asked , you looked up at him. "no , absolutely not , we're not having sex for an entire month." he pouted.

"i knew you'd say that."

©️LUVYENI

[impossiblesuitcase]

hii, how are you? I was wondering if you could write something like Cinder being sick or in pain and Kai taking care of her, I've had this in my head for so long!

Drowning. She's back in the water, thrashing her arms for leverage, her ears filling and throwing her balance into a blender. The iciness covers her arms, her legs, her spine. She gasps and splutters, hoping to fill her lungs with whatever she can. Something insidious enters her throat; not water, but noxious smoke. It incinerates the water in its heat.

The lake empties out beneath her. She screams as she plummets but doesn't feel the impact. Her fall is cushioned by the fire that rises up to catch her.

Cinder gasps, limbs clawing to get out of this hell pit when they are pushed back down firmly.

"It's okay, you're okay."

She doesn't know where the voice comes from. Her mind is still coiled to attack, but her body becomes limp. It trusts the voice. Against her will, she allows the elements to overtake her. Somehow, the assuring voice has snuffed out the flames and dried up the riptides.

Cinder wakes in a haze. A hand is pushing hair off her brow and a damp cloth is pressed against her temple.

She instinctively tries to sit up.

"Hey, easy there," says the same voice. "Lie back. You're okay."

His face is hovering above hers when she opens her eyes. "Kai?" she croaks out, almost inaudibly.

"Hi, my love," he murmurs, smiling down at her. "You gave me a good fright today."

She weakly removes his hand from her forehead. It's hot and clammy, and she wants it cupping her cheek instead. When he allows her to move it and her forehead is still burning, she realises that perhaps it's not his hand that's feverish.

"Where am I?" she asks.

He adjusts her blankets and she shivers. "On your ship. I didn't want to move you just yet. Once you're better I'll get you inside the palace."

Vaguely, she collects her bearings. The room is dimly lit and yet still too bright for even her bionic eyes to handle. She forces them to focus. They are in her quarters on the personal ship used for Lunar's Earthen ambassador.

"You've been working too much," Kai reprimands gently. "Going from one climate to another when you're already fighting a cold is a recipe for a fever. It used to happen to me when I was travelling with my parents on diplomatic missions."

A fever. That's what the freezing and burning was. Cinder had felt run-down the past couple of days, and today was going to be her rest day. But she must have collapsed, because her last memory was half-consciously telling the pilot to take her home.

Her crew must know her well enough to know that her home was no longer Luna.

Kai gets some water into her, teasing, "Thank you, by the way, for getting me out of a tedious meeting. Taking care of my sick fiancée is a great excuse."

Right. Kai hadn't known she was coming. He was probably busy. But a muddled Cinder is a selfish one. "Stay with me, please," she begs incoherently, grasping for his hands, "don't go back to the meeting."

She feels a kiss on her fiery skin. "I'm not leaving you, love."

She drifts off again. When she wakes, she will recall how Adri had been so attentive to Peony when she had the flu. Feeding her soup, ensuring she took all her medicines, tucking her into bed with a kiss. Later that week when Cinder caught the same bug, she was confined to her room with an unempathetic "get over it".

Now, cared for and loved and treasured for the first time in her life, Cinder almost wants to stay sick for longer.

--

This is directly inspired by me having covid right now. Which is also the reason it's probably word vomit. I have a fic coming up eventually which delves more into this theme but here's a short fic for the moment.

After writing this I actually thought, sure, Kai taking care of Cinder while she's sick is sweet, but what about Iko taking care of her? Or Cress? Or Thorne? Now that I want to read.

[just2bubbly]

Pls thodi aur Kaider fluff likhdo

For the person who send this ask, thank you! Fluff likhne mei bohot time laga, hope it's fine! Abhi you can enjoy the fluff :)

Masterlist

Love Me Like a Dog

Cinder's perspective-

"Do you think adding some pepper would balance the sour taste?" Kai asked, licking the stew from the spoon.

"I don't think it works like that. Also please don't lick the spoon like that," she said, trying to not show her disgust. For someone who had grown up with an array of instructors, Kai tended to act barbaric more often than not. However, it always happened in the confinement of their small kitchen, he never seemed to forget any dining etiquettes or indulge in his more human side with anyone else.

"Sorry," he said, wincing a little, his face didn't show much remorse though.

"I think we could add a little sugar to put out the sour taste." She suggested, grabbing the jar of sugar off the counter.

Kai nodded in agreement as he took the jar from her, "-this time don't dump the entire jar!"

"Cinder-" he groaned, "-that was one time."

"And I could have got diabetes because of it. It was 1/2 kg of sugar, I cannot fathom how you managed to mix all the contents together."

Kai ignored her remark, showing a tongue to her.

"Such a baby," she said, flicking some flour in his direction, which he carefully avoided.

"Let's not be violent, Cindy," he commented. He tasted the stew he was working on, and having been satisfied with its taste, cheered on self-win.

She smiled at the sight, Kai looked adorable in his denim shorts and lime green shirt, and the apron reading 'in an argument kiss the chef' did add its charm- Cinder clicked a picture of him to share on the group chat.

Cinder: attachment, "The Emperor says butter is too expensive, these days."

She keeps her port aside and drains the water from cooked noodles. Switches on the gas and adds shallots and garlic to saute, while grating ginger simultaneously. Noting how the ingredients aren't brown enough, she pulls up the message bar in her internal media screen and notes the various replies to her text.

Thorne: tell the Emperor, YOU ARE RICH

Thorne: and how do you think it's expensive when you decide the prices of commodities?!

Cress: I don't think Kai decides the cost of grocery products

Iko: CINDER CINDER CINDER

Iko: TELL ME YOU KISSED HIM TOO MANY TIMES IN THAT

Thorne: @Cinder please don't answer that

Cinder: I did, he is loml <3

Winter: Cousin, what does loml mean?

"Cinder, that's burning."

She blinks her messenger away, the smell of burning shallots causes her to cough and notes the sorry state of her finely chopped shallots and garlic.

"Don't tell me you got distracted again," he sighs, throwing away the burnt veggies, "-I just told them you are the loml."

"- Is that a reason or an excuse?" He asks, eyebrows rising towards his hairline.

"The truth, Kai." She huffs, chopping the shallots again.

"Well, if it helps, you are the love of my life too," he whispers, kissing her hairline, as he hugs her from behind, chin resting in the crook of her neck, "- don't read messages or you might chop off your fingers," he suggests.

"A good husband would offer to help."

"A better husband believes in sharing the workload."

"Way to go, Emperor!"

"I'll set the table, don't burn the kitchen down," he says, kissing her cheek before he rummages through the cupboards for cutlery.

She doesn't scroll through her inner port screen this time and adds the noodles to cook. The spice causes a burning sensation behind her eyes and she wonders if they have the tolerance for it- deciding to check the taste for herself, she coughs, her throat and tongue are on fire and gurgles a glass of water.

"Fuck," she mutters under her breath, adding a spoonful of sugar in the pan, she mixes the content one last time before turning off the gas. Cinder sets the container in the small dining space, sitting across from Kai as he asks, "White Wine?"

"What's the occasion?"

"I feel like it and it was just sitting there in the cupboard." He states, pulling out two glasses for her lack of disagreement. He serves the stew with smoky mashed potatoes, while she pours wine into their respective glasses, and this time Kai clicks a picture of their appetizer to send on their group chat.

She eyes him, "-what?! I need them to know your kissing didn't stop me from making good food."

Chuckling at that, she dives into the food, and like Kai mentioned her kissing wasn't enough distraction.

"It's good," they murmur together and later chuckle at themselves.

"I didn't ever think potatoes could taste so good," she remarks, getting another spoonful of stew.

"I told you to trust me."

"Henceforth, I will. You should cook often."

"I know, I used to. I was too self-conscious to eat with the staff present and to eat alone meant asking the staff to work extra, so I preferred cooking alone. This kitchen was Dad's gift when he found out about it. Somedays we used to cook together, he wasn't very good at it so he mostly used to stick to the chopping part." He explained, fondly sharing the memory.

"I despised cooking. Iko used to take care of most of it while we lived at Adri's which was a blessing. But on some occasions, Pearl would want something more interesting and I was supposed to cook on those days- Peony used to cook then and I did the dishes later."

Talking about Peony and her life before she met him no longer brought any grief. Cinder wondered what Peony might have thought seeing that Emperor Kaito cooked for her regularly, she would probably faint this one out thinking it was a dream, the thought made her smile.

"You know," Kai said, twisting his fork around,"-we could get a pet."

"A pet?"

"If that's not much trouble, or if you aren't a pet person."

"Nah, I didn't mean it like that, just surprised. What pet are we talking about?" She asked, puzzled at his out-of-the-blue remark.

"A dog- are you a cat person?"

"I don't think I have a preference."

Truth be told, Cinder remembered an old black mutt, lying outside her shop, a shabby animal, its hair colour faded, its body weak as it struggled to move. The boy in the next shop used to call it Sadie. On rainy days, it used to hide between buildings and stall corners, the sight always did things to her fabricated heart, but there was not much she could do to help it.

"Well, I have an inkling about a dog," Kai says, taking her thoughts off the rain-drenched mutt.

"Anything that made you think about it all of a sudden?"

"Cinder," he sighs, hands moving through his hair," I saw a dog. Poor thing was still a child, very bony. I might have brought it to the Palace."

"You mean you did."

"Yes, I did. She would mostly stay with the Palace dogs, but I wondered if you would like if she grew up with us." He admitted, showing his remarkable baby face, something she couldn't say no to.

"I'd like that. We could go see it after dinner." She exclaims, smiling as Kai grins in victory.

"You would love her. She looked abandoned when I saw it during my meetup. I couldn't just leave it there," Kai explained.

-

"Why keep her in the Palace Kitchen?" She asked, moving through the long files of kitchen countertops.

"It needed a warm place and Mary agreed to look after her, till the vet gave a green signal to introduce her to the others."  

"That's quite thoughtful," she murmurs, eyes falling to the corner that contained a large box.

Kai signalled her to come closer, and she saw a child, her retina scanner showing its breed and some related information. She blinks them away, focusing on the sleeping form of the dog, the rugged brown fur begging for a wash.

Cinder stumbles on her step as she lowers herself down, the noise enough to wake the dog up. It leaps towards Kai, who is already smitten as he picks it up.

"You remember me!!" Kai shouts, kissing her head, as it wiggles around in his arms, tail wagging in excitement.

"Do you have a name, baby?"

Her big brown eyes stared at her, "I don't know, maybe Mary has kept something."

"We can try saying names, maybe she could like something?" She suggests, lowering herself to the knees.

"Works for me," Kai says, from next to her, the dog licking at its face as she sat in his lap. The scene makes Cinder warm to her toes.

"How about Ollie? Do you like Ollie?" She asks, the dog doesn't give much of a reaction.

"Lila?" Kai offers, and like the prior name, there isn't any show of enthusiasm.

Without much thought, Cinder says, "Sadie? Like Sadie Maddie?"

And the dog leaps to that, moving around in circles as it barks loudly in excitement.

"I think she likes that, right Sadie?" Kai asks, Sadie nudges her nose against Kai's and licks up his face, some way to show her approval.

Kai grimaces, saliva covering his face as Cinder giggles, which causes the dog to turn and now she is licking Cinder's face.

"Karma coming back at you, Cindy," Kai jokes, picking up the dog.

She sits there, mildly disgusted with saliva sticking to her face, however, she could foresee many such face licks if Sadie stays up with them.

"Oii, c'mon, I don't know about you but I would appreciate a wash. So would Sadie," Kai calls from the doorway and Cinder is up on her feet, walking behind them.

"Let's stop by the dog troop for some essentials," She remarks, once they enter the lift.

Kai grins at her, Sadie still in his arms as he closes the distance, capturing her lips with his. The dogs squeezed between the two, yelps, making the two break apart, chuckling.

"Looks like we have got supervision."

"Rather sweet," she says, leaving a quick kiss on his lips, as she ruffled the fur of her new baby.   

-

A/N: My cousin recently adopted a dog and I have been begging my mum for one, unfortunate that she despies all form of pets! :/

taglist: @gingerale2017 @impalasquiptyseven @impossiblesuitcase @cinderswrench @slmkaider @fangirlforever0704 and anyone who wants to be tagged.

[fandomsandfairytales]

Live reactions to Quigley Down Under

Basically a form of liveblogging. I wrote all this down while I was watching the movie.

Putting a "keep reading" cut here because ~spoilers~

The bullet points are split up by lines every now and then, usually based on scene. I'm leaving my phone typos in there for amusement purposes and adding in occasional brackets for clarification.

[Opening scene in the boat] Oooooo he's got manners

AND SASS!

[thought this but didn't write it down at the time] Very good introduction to his character, effectively shows us what his character is like with one interaction right off the bat

Very Max Way like, helping Cora

Also yuck to those guys

Lol to him insulting and then totally doing away with those guys [my autocorrected it to "bugs" and it's not wrong]

My name isn't Roy - gives off "don't call me Shirley" vibes a bit

This man is so sick and tired of everything in this country not even 10 minutes in

They got a body!

LOL at "we sent them back to England"

Trying to grasp the plot here

The look in his eyes is saying "What if I'm actually Roy?" at about 13 min

Severus Snape voice!! [Alan Rickman came onscreen and said "Matthew Quigley"]

Fancy specs there [about the gun]

Cora admitting she doesn’t know him!

Here we gooooooo

Got earplugs sir?

Oooooo he’s got SKILLS [shooting the bucket from far away]

Knew he would, of course, lol

That deserter guy's got VERY blue eyes

Dunno if Alan Ricjmsn [Rickman] is reminding me of someone else or just himself

Well that was a fast execution

Aha, I think it’s Ben Barnes as the Darkling, a bit [the person Alan Rickman was reminding me of, because of the facial expressions]

“yOu WeRe AcTuAllY IN dOdGe CiTy???”

This guy [Quigley] is such an American

Jack Pearson vibes hair & facial hair

Why are u so proud of your mint jelly sir

Aha more plot

OoooOOOOO

“Your American Indian” I’m going to skin u alive

What is that box for? Oh, cigars

This Marston guy is so rude

Ugh white supremacy

He’s making me bristle every other word

I’m wondering if Quigley is gonna become an outlaw

The tears in his eyes!!!!

LOL GET THROWN OUT

The outlaw part might be happening faster than I thought XD

GET WRECKED

Lolllll at the turnabout

Also the guys being afraid bc of the long shot rifle XD

YRAHHH PUT UR FEET UP ON THE TABLE

Lol they’re trying to ambush him

Of course it was the slave who got him bc nobody listens or expects them

Cora is so brave!

I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA THROW TJEM TOFETJER

enemies to lovers via being dumped in the desert, let’s go

Stunning landscape

Oh no, he doesn’t have his gun. Sad

Those rickety wagon wheels!

LOL the whisper

Oooooo he’s gonna knife em

Oh he put down the gun. Big mistake

Cool theme!!! The music!

YES HE CAN SHOOT FROM THERE

YOU CAN DI IT MISRER WYIGKEY

he’s giving beat up Walt Longmire

“On a new job it’s quite common for things not to go well at first” 😂 love how they both laugh

Also she’s lowkey giving Mallory from Studio C character vibes

The way she just leaves the hoop there on the ground

Also serious Thorne and Cress vibes

Had that the moment they said “dump them in the desert” They’re really dying ooof

You’re not just going to LEAVE HER THERE ARE U Of course not. Bc you’re a man with morals

Ouch that sunburn doesn’t look fun

This is also giving Walt Longmire dragging Henry through the desert

The moon!!!

They so want us to think it’s Quigley and Cora [the two people the British guys brought in]

Nope, lol

Aha!!! The guys he killed

Lol GET WRECKED

Aboriginal people!

That shot of the silhouettes against the sun is beautiful

Interesting

More Max Way chivalry vibes! “You okay?”

“The shady side of dead” is a cool phrase

Lolll to the kangaroo bit

Oh, grubs

Her accent is making me think of Ed in the movie where they take the babies [Raising Arizona]

“I don’t eat things that are still moving” then kill it first

Cool montage!

Cora backstory??!

The slow zoom in on her is so nice

Wait. Did she actually kill her baby? The poor woman

Dang

SGE WAS TRYINH TO SAVE HER AND THE BABY!!?!!!!!!!

“I know, cause I watched him leave” ughhhh (around 50 mins in)

This poor man just got trauma dumped on

Oh they’re gone!

Is he playing along with her?!

Oh NOOOOO

The way she’s running even if she can’t do anything. She cares so fiercely

Those guys deserve to die

GET RHEM GET THEMMMMM

Lolll yeah she’s not making this any easier for him

Yay he did good!!!!

This man is like Walt Longmire and Jack Pearson combined

“Are you trying to get your head blown off?” Lowkey Riser and Billie vibes to me

Oh 😭

“I could’ve used some help up there” wdym? she didn’t have a weapon

Awww the hand over her hands

Her smile looks like the aww yeah lady

Literally burst out laughing at “I’m cold.” I see EXACTLY what you’re trying to do there sweetheart

LOL to the flirtation

Oh she’s taking her corset off

He’s sweet

LOL

“Matthew”

“I’m not sharing my bed til I know who’s in it” completely and legitimately fair and you should be that way

This is a man hard pressed to deal with her

So very American Cowboy looking at 57 min

Interestinggggg about her not remembering the night before

I feel like O’Flynn’s going to become more important or something

“Not again!!!” Spider-Man school teacher vibes

And something else too I think ^

“Matthew Quigley is really starting to annoy me.” GOOD

The whole “are we lost” exchange was interesting and amusing, you can see him starting to get it

NOOOO

IM GOING TO KILL THEM TOO Idc that it’s a movie

GOOD THOSE MEN SHOULD FALL

I love Cora so much. Her compassion is beautiful

He feels it too even though he doesn’t say anything

I hope she gets to kill someone too

Lol his sass

“Or I’ll let you live” what a threat

“It’s only 20 miles past the bingabong!”

“You only got one shot left in that shooter. Make the most of it” WOW

Don’t worry Cora I’m sure he’s fine

My heart is going to break

This baby

Him on top of those rocks is a cool sight

This is really turning into that movie with Ed and Hi, isn’t it, lol

I like the lighting in that cave

Hmmmmm Idk if it’s a good idea to leave her alone

I’m scared she’s gonna get kidnapped

“You’re the only man on this continent that would ask me what I think” oh man

Awww “little bit”

The deadpan stare at her asking to find her some other clothes

Very American Cowboy of him galloping off. This is the first time he’s actually been alone since getting here

YEAHHHH RIDE HARD

TJE EPIC MUSIC

Yah! Yah! Get your woman and the baby sustenance!!!

Missed where the long coat came from

Definitely a Longmire shot of him on his horse

Cowboy town here

Doc Brown lookin guy

“She ain’t my woman” yeah yeah they all say that

I’ve been called a lot of things ma’am but never that - Riser way vibes

NO NOT THE KID

Oh NOOOO

Not dingoes

Look at those tails those are good dog actors

NO DONT SMOTHER HIM

KILL THE DINGOES

You have the chance to change history

GOOD LADY

GET THE DOGGIES

Dang I didn’t know dingoes were cannibals

Lollll yes take the gold

Mhmmmm u gotta get back

GUN FIGHT GUJ GOHNY [I don't even know what I was trying to type there)

EPIC MUSIC

He has a habit of throwing ppl through windows doesn’t he, including himself?

FIREEE

Hopefully nobody’s in there

Put your bandada over your mouth!!! Good

Seriously more Jack Pearson vibes with a house on fire

LOLLLL to him jumping syreakght thru the roof

You’re just giving him holes to shoot throuh

Oh nvm he’s out

NOOOOO NOT THE MOM

Whoa okayyyy we are knocking the horse over

YEAHHHH “go tell Marston I’m coming after him” definitely reminds me of something but can’t remember what. Maybe Once Upon a Time “tell the evil Queen we’re coming" or something

“Oh, shut up”

None of these guys want to go, do they? Lol

I hope that black guy does something

Bandana over mouth like Riser on his bike

I knew she was still alive

Awww. She’s back in her old mind. “I killed the Comanches”

And the way he understands and goes “didn’t get any sage hens, but I got the next best thing”

Oh, he GOT HER A DRESS

I like how we see them coming over the same hill he came over

Now giving Court Jesysr [Court Jester which is another movie] vibes with him with the baby

Oh her earrings are pretty too

Uhhh should I be scared that she won’t give the baby back? Oh nvm

Love the fade to white transition

He looks like a general sitting there

Ohhhh is it only one bed type scenario??? I see I see

Oh he’s going off without her!

LOLLL she’s awake

The scene with them!!! Emotions!

That theme again

OH. The way he looks back at her. Tears in my eyes

Nice transition into the house

This fluffy haired guy reminds me of someone

The zoom in!

Oh fluffy haired guy is a Scotsman!! Or something, judging by his glengarry. Not his accent tho

Now I’m wondering. Do horses usually run into their home barn/area and rear when they’ve lost a rider who’s dead?

Lol, they’re all going to be tired, but I bet Quigley got sleep

Alan Rickman is giving me Nic Cage as Hi vibes [once again, character from Raising Arizona]

Is that O’Flynn riding?

Horse chase!!!

Oh goodness. Those poor horses.

“On ya feet ya lazy mongrels!” [Adrian Von Ziegler reference]

“Move you gutless bloody wonder” lollll

Got all the grass on him naturally, you wouldn’t see that nowadays, it’d be all brushed off by hair and makeup

Oh NO

noooooooo

Oh gosh he’s being dragged through the desert?!

Not fun not fun

Knew O’Flynn would come up again

I want that slave guy to kill Marston so bad

“What? Nothing clever to say?” Severus Snape vibes

The way if he stood up straight he’d be taller than the other two—

Oh fluffy haired guy IS wearing a kilt isn’t he?! Wait nvm he’s not, thought so bc of his coat

Okay his name is Dobkin, that’s who he is

“Some men are born in the wrong century. I think I was born on the wrong continent.”

What are you WAITING for???

This ain’t Dodge City - that again?

HAAAAAAAAA

I had honestly really wanted the slave to kill him so that he would be the one actually driving the action here lol

Marston dying in the sand is giving Dr. Brenner from Stranger Things dying

“Never said I didn’t know how to use it” mwahaha

The slave guy is back tho!

Yeah he got his gun!

Wait was HE the one who fired at the other two?

Yes!!! The aboriginal ladies!!! And the man! BE FREEEEEEEE

Oh that makes me so happy

Love the dunking the face in the barrel

Lollll here come the British

Oh he is NOT in the mood is he

Snorted at the guy interrupting the other one reading off that long paper

“In short, this paperwork says we can hang you.”

Oh?? Hmm????

YESSSSSSSS Im not surprised!!!

The aborigine people!!

….he’s giving the ”you were saying?” look

Yay! The aborigine man who was a slave seems to have been the one to bring them back!

And now he’s all alone here on this big ol ranch

Ohh goodness

Oh SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY

SHE’S SO PRETTY IN RED

Ohhhhhh he’s gonna say “Roy” isn’t he

I yelled YEAHHHH

Cobb? I didn’t realize that was her last name

Two, of course, he’s staring into her eyes [not sure what I meant by "two"—I think that was an autocorrect of something else]

She was so right about her being pretty in red

Ooooioooo she called him by his name!

She mussed up his hair!!!

Love the traditional still on the kiss and fade to black, very nice

Catch me clapping like it's a movie theater, lol

Thank! You! SO MUCH for telling us no animals were harmed or killed in the making of this movie. That matters to me

Those are some cool names for the aboriginal group

I’ve come to be fond of the theme track :)

A very good movie and a good way to spend Saturday evening.

1990, okay! Would've thought it was a bit older.

And no ads the entire time, huh. [I figured out after this that it's because I was watching it on the TV at my friend's place, who I'm housesitting for currently, and she told me she has YouTube without ads. I'm SO glad I chose to watch the movie while I'm here XD]

@thegreenleavesofspring bc I know you want to see this :)

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Real pleased with the progress in the yard so far, and fine-tuning the next steps as I go

Projects I noticed while working on the reseeding today:

Need to build and hang some bee boxes and then scrub down the deck with a citronella seal to hopefully convince the carpenter bees to relocate - also need to redo the deck frankly but that's a long-term thing and I'd really like to have access to a woodlot first and plane our own boards rather than buying them. Even in bulk from a lumbermill that's more money than I'd like to spend for proper hardwoods like oak and cherry

Need to buy a sythe/machete for the tall invasives by the creek - once the ground is cleared, going to turn our old olive oil tins into lizard houses, and reseed with strawberry corn, sunflowers, cardoons, witch hazel, and ground cherries

Need to call the city and find out who is legally allowed to bring down the willow across the creek that got uprooted during Helene and has been threatening to fall onto our fence ever since. Happy to do it myself if I'm allowed, but would rather the other land owner handle it, unfortunately it's not a person, it's a company so I have no idea how to talk to them about this except through the city.

Need to smash a pumpkin and throw some budding sweet potatoes into the compost and really hill up the hay on top so I can have a pumpkin and sweet potato patch for my leetle ladies tasty treat times

I need to sprout the red plum seeds and prep the temporary pots for when they're ready to transplant outdoors, might consider planting them directly in their own loosened hale bales, esp if I can let the chickens have at the bales over winter first.

Speaking of which, we need more hay. I need to call my hay guy and ask how much another 50 bales of clover hay will cost me

Need to bury the logs under hay and compost to start byilding raised beds and improving the topsoil quality, ideally I'll seed the swales with wetland/riparian plants so that as the swales smother the lingering invasives, the plants can sprout up on top with all that yummy organic matter

Need to buy/make root veggie sacks to bury in the compost and new topsoil so I can grow even while I'm still making new topsoil

I need to make sure to include wildflowerd in the spring compost and reseed, because we're starting to get some volunteering which means the soil is recovered enough to play good host and I want to speed that up

Gotta make some starter plots around the chicken run and the dog run to regularly re-establish groundcover in them given how much the chickens and dogs tear up the grass

Need to build a chicken tractor to use in future years to control overgrowth and compost growing beds after harvest

Need to build a water table for lettuces and greens, ideally linked up to the rainbarrel water storage system

Need to keep expanding the chicken run now they're all enjoying it so Elvira is less of an asshole, and reinforce under the coop so no one gets stuck under the foundation

Reinforcing the creek bank (witch hazel and red plum tree and creeping thyme) behind the dog run so we don't lose integrity of the fence.

Paint the house some goddamn colors holy FUCK

Keep making braids for cat and chicken toys

Maybe enclose the upper deck for a four season cat porch

Set up some 7-10 gallon pots on the deck for growing ginger and lemongrass and other culinary/medicinal plants we need to keep out of the topsoil

Make a plant ID booklet for use during harvesting

Make a recipe book to guide cut and come again use

Set out a shaded table at the top of the drive with places to set out eggs, produce, preserves, etc that we're not going to be able to use up for give away - should make sure to put a sign up to officially let folks know they can take what they like.

Start passionflower vines by the creek and back fence

Fill the front yard with flax

Plant a broomsedge, scouring rush, water cress, plaintain, American Trout Lily, alumroot, phlox, chickweed, creeping blueberries,culinary sumac, and primrose propogation bed by the creek to crowd out the last invasive ground covers (apparently the native ground covers have done a GREAT job smothering most of the invasives in the yard, and there are only a few invasive vines and crabgrass left actually. Everything else is native wetland grasses and galax. Just....so much galax lmao

I might look into canebrrak bamboo as well, that would be extremely useful for fiber production holy shit

I definitely want a stand of Indigo for dyes and inks

I still want my pawpaws and wild olive and wild black rum cherry trees so they'll probably go in the front where the crabapples are now. I could probably make a lil lumber out of the bigger crabapple and a nice cat toy out of the smaller one.

It would be great to get a Broom Hickory or a chinquapin, too, but I'm prioritizing the pecans

A sugar berry would be lovely, they're kind of nothing on their own, but if you use them in preserves of other fruits, they come out AMAZING

Coreopsis my beloved <3

I need to flesh out my medicinal garden too, and I'm thinking about waterleaf. It would be AMAZING for my skin condition, particularly for my feet, but I'm not sure I can harvest and use it fast enough given its growth habit the leaves and shoots are ostensibly edible, so maybe if we a consistent about cutting them back for the greens that will keep the rhizomes focused on growing rather than spreading.

Bayberry would be extremely useful for making plant waxes and butters, but I'm in the same position as the waterleaf, esp since they're even less readily edible lol

I think that's everything so far, which is good because it's already a year's worth of work lmao

[caliburn-the-sword]

winter chapters 25-33

figured out how to include and vaguely format photos which i'm including for my favourite passages. tumblr butchered the photos tho so rip it's blurry lol

OMGGGG I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THE WHOLE HUNTSMAN PLOT FSKDJFHSDFH THIS IS THE EXACT KIND OF DRAMA AND ANGST I LOVE

jacin's low key a gentleman for just wordlessly giving cress the cot and taking the floor instead in his OWN home

HELP THE THOUGHT OF THE RAMPION CREW BEING THE "SEVEN DWARFS" FSFHSDKFJSDHFS (i haven't reread the original fairy tale for a time so forgive me if that's actually just a disneywashed thing)

omg cress is stepping up into her role and being the hero she always wished she was <3 i love her development so much. zero to hero type beat

love to see jacin overcoming being a selfish bitch and promising to protect cress <3 positive development for him too

FINALLY CHAPTER 27 SCARLET I MISSED HER AND HER POV everything scarlet does is literally so slayed. yes girl!! break that bitch's nose!!!

HELP WHY DID I NEVER REGISTER WITH GENETIC ENGINEERING THAT WOLF WOULD ACTUALLY. BE RELATED TO A LITERAL FLESH AND BLOOD WOLF. this is in fact wilder than anything the ouat family tree was ever capable of (and i would know, because i studied that damn thing like the bible)

marissa meyer DON'T DO THIS TO ME. i will always go apeshit over a character being nicknamed "sunshine" ESPECIALLY when he's the furthest thing from a ray of sunshine ever LMAO

love how winter seems to think that the menagerie in front of scarlet's cage is the most romantic spot for jacin to admit his feelings for her. a bit silly goofy

ngl it's literally HEARTBREAKING that winter could think, even for a moment, that jacin would actually follow levana's orders and kill her (note: it was in fact a LOT of moments which makes it more painful)

NO NOT RYU. OMG I NEVER WOULD HAVE THOUGHT RYU WAS THE DEER

damn cress is like a guardian angel <3 she's always been the rampion's guardian angel

"the docks. With the mushrooms" ik that this is just winter's delulu ramblings and trust me i have been painstakingly restraining myself from going "omg alice in wonderland reference" because there's nothing more obnoxious than picking a mentally ill character and defining them by alice in wonderland but in this case,,,,

"Down, down, down we go" look i KNOW i'm reaching here because ANYONE can repeat the word down three times but direct word for word lewis caroll's alice in wonderland "Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end?"

jacin clay is so incredibly fucked. the paper trail leading back to him helping the princess in her escape is such a mountable pile of evidence (note: he is in fact not fucked and the queen fell for it)

OMG THE MAN IS WOLF YAYAYAY SCARLET AND WOLF ARE REUNITING I'M SO HAPPY I'M GONNA THROW UP

living for the "Devoured her." metaphor/pun. like yes. that's so little red riding hood fksdfsdkf

wolflet are cancelled for being instalove (jk it says STARTED TO for a reason)

WHAT DID I SAY CRESS???? LITERALLY THE PEAK OF ALL ROMANCE (i used to be hesitant to ship scarlet and winter because of how their relationship started but honestly with the confirmation THAT scene was when she started falling for wolf. i think scarlet is just INTO all that life or death shit. a bit of a masochist in my opinion)

"Are we running a boardinghouse for misplaced royalty around here, or what?" thorne that is SO real LMAO. someone reunite them all with kai asap

speaking of kai he literally CAN'T go ONE damn book without being SEPARATED from everyone. someone stop this before my heart explodes and breaks into a million tiny little pieces

girls girl scarlet makes a comeback

CINDER AND WINTER REUNITED CINDER AND WINTER REUNITED. am going apeshit. what a great note to end tonight's read on (note: was 11pm when i finished chapter 3)

@eddisfargo @francforever @winterrhayle @winterpinetrees @shellyseashell @luna-maximoff-22

[marcusoseman99]

Songs of the isle pt 44

Apollo: Bob.

Vick: *trying not to laugh* Hmm really?

Apollo: Of course not jackass.

Vick: *sigh* How about a less serious question then?

Apollo: Go for it dude.

Vick: *laughs* Who taught you to tie laces so well?

*Apollo doesn’t respond continuing forward*

Vick: You don’t need to answer.

Apollo: No I will

*They walk in silence for a few more seconds*

Apollo: Euippe she was my villages crazy lady she taught me a lot.

Vick: Like what?

Apollo: How to fight, hunt, cook, question things and help.

Vick: She sounds nice.

Apollo: Not at all she was a hard ass and would woop my ass if I try to do anything stupid...... more than my family did.

Vick: Sounds rough.

Apollo: What no I had everything I needed.

Vick: Where is she now?

Apollo: I don’t know.

Vick: but-

Apollo: that enough for now

*The scene cuts to Herms sitting at his desk with the chest that Apollo retrieved sitting on his desk he is writing on some paper till the doors swing open.

A woman in a long dark red dress with a slit down the side showing her leg and a black Leather Jacket with outlines of orange walks slowly toward him*

Woman: Hello, hello, hello.

Herms: *sigh* Please knock next time Cassandra.    

Cassandra: And what’s the fun in that, Messenger.

Herms: Do you have my payment?

Cassandra: Of course you know that i am good for it.

Hermes: Sure.

Cassandra: Gods you are just as dramatic as your brother.

*Cassandra walks up to Hermes desk and drags her dark red nails along the edge of his desk till she is standing over his right shoulder.

She sits on his desk before throwing something wrapped in cloth to Herms and catches after it hits his chest*

Cassandra: That’s it.

Herms: Seem to be enough take your goods now.

*Cassandra doesn’t moved but looks Herms up and down he stands up to look her in the eyes before she slowly gets up and grabs the chest before leaving*

*the Scene follows Cassandra as she walks out of herms office and disappears into thin air, the scene comes back with Cassandra throwing the chest onto the ground in a poorly lit room.

The only thing in sight is a few book cases and a single leather black chair both in very odd places the floor she put the chest on is wooden plates that have been cleaned and sanded but are pure black.

She sits cross legged revelling that she has changed into grey sweatpants and a baggy white t-shirt she drags the chest over to her knees and gentle cresses the metal square that covers the chests outer layer*

Cassandra: Finally fucking finally something that can really make a difference.

*Cassandra opens the box quickly while her eyes are closed before slowly opening them*

Cassandra: what the- THERES NOTHING, FUCKING NOTHING THAT SHIT HEAD THAT-

*Cassandras back snaps back till the top of her head is touching the ground while her arms shake uncontrollable her legs haven’t moved an inch, her eyes go white as her mouth opens unnaturally wide.

Her ribs start coming in and out of her skin as though her skin was the waves of water the bones of her arms break in pieces that pierce her skin.

While her veins in her arms are dragged out of her and began to dance to their own unheard song dragging Cassandra left to right repeatedly as they float in the air.

Her eyes slowly return letting her feel the pain as though it was wished to happen by an unknown entity watching her.

Cassandra screams as she feels and sees her body be played with by a sadistic unnatrul force but it is cut short as her throat starts to unravel showing her muscle beneath the skin while her jaw is slowly let go as her cheeks start to waste away. *

Cassandra: I CAN’T- I CAN’T DO THIS I- BUT I NEED TO SAVE THEM PLEASE I NEED TO SAVE THEM ALL, PLEASE

*Tears drop down Cassandras face unable to do anything else till all of her movement stops and she is let go laying on the ground with a blood pool forming under her*

Cassandra: Please let me live they need me.

*The blood coming out of her starts to slowly go back into her body as her body starts to snap back together violent in its efficiency till she is sitting cross legged again staring into the darkness that is all around her*

Cassandra: Everything feels odd why does my body feel like it is here in this room but doesn’t at the same time.

*Cassandra holds her hand out in front of her and starts to move it left to right*

Cassandra: Am I here?

*She continues until the skin starts to fall off and stay floating in the air*

Cassandra: Why doesn’t this hurt what did Herms give me this can’t be a way to the circle, can it?

*Cassandra stops moving and closes her fist then her skin comes back to her hand, she stares for a second before closing her eyes*

Cassandra: TAKE ME TO THE CIRCLE.

*Cassandra stands in the dark for a couple of seconds*

Cassadra: Now I just feel silly I can’t believe I can’t use this I need a way to get to the circle.

*Just then Cassandras hand rips itself apart and creates a blade out of her bones and muscle*

Cassandra: That could work.

Cassandra: Holy fuck this could be my way to actually get through to them show them all that I have the means to get to the circle and end this cycle.

*The scene cuts to Vick and Apollo returning back to Dion at his tent*

Dion: Good you are both here I would like to invite you both to my next party.

Apollo: What’s the occasion?

Dion: Demi’s birthday I assumed you would remember.

Apollo: Sorry I get hit in the head a lot.

Vick: Wait I am invited too?

Dion: My parties aren’t anything to gloss over if you want to see our world then this is the event to be at some kill to get in........ some have.

Vick: Damn.

Apollo: I don’t think I have a choice but Vick you don’t have too if you don’t want to be here.

Vick: Will there be alcohol?

[elysianymph]

For your fic asks:

5. sounds like everything I've ever wanted

also super interested in 4.

-Cress

already answered number 5, so number 4 it is!!

regulus gets obliviated. shit happens is really the best way to describe it. no voldemort au again bc i like to make things simple for myself.

regulus starts his 6th year off like any other. he's a prefect now and he takes his duties seriously, he's studying like usual, but he can't help but feel like something is wrong. like something is... missing?

he thinks he just needs to get used to being back at hogwarts again, but he knows something is definitely wrong when one night while out on patrol, james potter grabs him and pulls him into a broom closet. the guy doesn't even let regulus throw a hex at him because his lips are immediately against regulus' and when he pulls away he's talking about how much they've missed him, how happy he is to see him, how hard he's tried to get regulus alone but could never seem to get it right.

he's telling regulus that lily is just around the corner and should be with them soon and then they can catch up on what happened over the summer and sort it all out, but regulus is still reeling from the fact that james fucking potter just kissed him??? and he's leaning in for more?? and regulus fucking lets him do it because wow his lips feel nice

and then lily evans is opening the door to the broom closet and regulus is expecting a screaming match to start any moment, but no, she approaches them and pulls regulus down so she can kiss him too and what the fuck?? when she pulls away regulus expects some big reveal, some confirmation that this is all a misunderstanding or maybe he expects to wake up in his bed. that would be nice.

but nothing happens, they don't say anything, they don't seem confused at all, if anything they seem happy and content like this is all normal and like regulus' entire world hasn't just shifted on its axis. so regulus comes to the one logical conclusion: this is all some big prank that sirius orchestrated to get back at him. why he had to get two of his friends involved with kissing regulus is beyond him, but he's not really complaining.

as you can imagine, this isn't a prank but rather lily and james trying to continue the secret relationship they started with regulus last year. problem is, regulus doesn't remember any of it. i'll just say that having your secret boyfriend and girlfriend send letters that could be easily intercepted by a nosy mother wasn't the smartest idea regulus has ever had

[setaripendragon]

Cress - Part 1

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 Okay, so I wrote this a while ago in a flurry of inspiration, got stuck, and... then didn't do anything with it. But I'm actually really proud of it, so I'm going to throw up what I've got, because I feel like I've fallen into the habit of not posting stuff, and that's just sad. This was inspired by a fic I read over on Ao3, The Telling of Fortunes, which... absolutely did not go in the direction I was expecting (still an excellent fic), and inspired me to take the premise and run off in the direction I thought it would go. Calliope gifts Dream another child, and this changes things.

It has been nearly seventy years since Dream was imprisoned, and over fifty since anything last changed. He has become used to the monotony of his imprisonment, even as the very nature of his existence makes ignoring the passage of time impossible. So mired in his unchanging circumstances is he that he doesn’t notice, at first, when something does change.

“Oneiros,” three voices call, in unsettling harmony, “harken to us.”

Dream raises his head sharply, and if he could breathe in this prison, his breath would have caught. The Fates stand arrayed about his prison. The Mother stands before him, between him and his guards, who are muttering amongst themselves. He cannot see the other two without turning his head, each of them equidistant from the other. In any other circumstance, being so surrounded would be unsettling, but as it is, he feels only relief at their presence.

That is not to say he expects a rescue. The Fates do not interfere so. And yet, here are ones he would not call enemy, and if Alex Burgess tries to shoot them… Well. He will not find what is left behind so easy to sweep away as he did Jessamy’s corpse.

He returns his attention to the Mother and inclines his head the barest inch. He will not give his captors any more than he must, but the Fates demand respect, even now. Even here. The Mother bows her head in return, which is a shock. Her eyes close, and for a moment, Dream could almost say she looked grieved.

“We are come on behest of another,” the Crone says, and Dream turns his head towards her to show he is listen.

“Calliope,” the Maiden adds, and this time, Dream turns more fully, to stare directly at her, eyes widening. He opens his mouth, but stops before he can shape the name. He will not give his captors that. Not for any boon or blessing in existence. The Maiden smiles in knowing gratitude, but Dream does not think he is imagining the way it doesn’t fully reach her eyes.

“Why?” he asks. Mouths, for there is no air inside his glass prison. At least, none that he can make use of, bound in his vessel as he is. His guards have moved from their post, are circling the moat that keeps mortal magics from interfering with the arcane sigils, excited by his movements as they cannot see the cause.

“A gift,” the Crone tells him.

“A burden,” the Maiden counters.

“A duty,” the Mother corrects them both. And that is the word he is more familiar with, one he feels down to his bones and beyond, into the dreamstuff that he makes and is made of, so it is to her he turns for an answer. And it is from her that he receives one.

The Mother flips back her shawl, and reveals that the Fates did not come alone. In her arms there is a babe, swaddled in cream silk, and as it is exposed to the air without the shelter of the Mother’s mantle, it yawns and begins to squirm.

Dream’s mouth drops open. Not to form words, for he has none. He does not understand. This can only be Calliope’s child, and yet, the Maiden called it a gift. Calliope has gifted him a child before, but has since sworn never again, so this cannot be as it appears to be. He tears his eyes away from the infant to meet the Mother’s gaze. “Why?” he asks again.

“Because she bid it,” the Mother tells him, simple and unconditional.

“Calliope cannot care for the babe as she is now,” the Crone states, unsympathetic.

“We cannot change her fate, but the child’s is within our power to alter,” the Maiden adds with just a hint of playful mischief.

As if Dream isn’t deeply alarmed by the notion of a Calliope subject to a fate that even the triple goddess will not interfere with. “What fate?” he asks. Mouths. The Maiden smiles at him, knowing and amused.

“She called for you, when we bid her name it,” she tells him, like she is imparting a scandalous secret.

“We bid her choose another,” the Crone snaps, fierce and angry, but when Dream turns to stare at her, he sees the pain beneath. “She refused.”

“There was no other she would trust,” the Mother mourns.

“We warned her; the fate that awaited in your arms would not be kind,” the Crone adds bitterly, eyes roving pointedly over the cage in which Dream is trapped. His eyes are drawn to the babe again, now mewling for attention and being fussed over by the Mother. Truly, if the child was given into his keeping at this moment, it would surely perish. That, indeed, would be the kinder fate. For if it is not mortal enough to suffocate, it will live as he does; without. Only it will not be aware enough to know that it can, and so it will struggle, and struggle endlessly, for a breath that will not come.

“She said that even the fate that awaits the child of Calliope and Oneiros would be a better one than awaited the child of Calliope and a mortal,” the Maiden says, wistful with sorrow. The words stab clear through Dream’s heart, and he raises a hand to his chest to press against the ache. There’s a clamouring somewhere beyond the sphere, beyond the Fate’s presence, but Dream ignores it, closing his eyes against it.

“She knew not of what she spoke,” the Crone complains.

“She knew enough, sister-self” the Mother chides. Dream feels a chill. What could possibly hold such power over Calliope to threaten her child that she believes giving it unto Dream would be the better fate? “Well, o Lord of Dreams?” the Mother prompts, and Dream opens his eyes to meet her gaze as she lifts it from the babe in her arms to raise her eyebrows at him. “Will you take her?”

Dream thinks furiously, frantically. He cannot say yes, and condemn an innocent child – Calliope’s child – to this cage with him, and yet, he cannot say no, and return her to a fate that even the Mother deems may be worse.

“We need an answer, o Lord of Dreams,” the Maiden demands. Dream drops his eyes, unable to settle his thoughts, but knowing he cannot take either of the paths laid before him.

“O Lord of Dreams,” the Crone echoes mockingly, sourly. “The choice is yours.”

Dream’s eyes snap up. “Mine,” he echoes silently, deliberately, holding the Crone’s gaze. Just the hint of a smile begins to lift one corner of his mouth.

Nose almost pressed to the glass, Alex Burgess rears backwards. “What?” he demands. “What was that? Did you hear-?” he asks of his lover. Paul shakes his head, eyes beginning to widen, a look of horror beginning to dawn.

“Alex… what if he can’t speak?” he asks slowly, and then reaches out to his lover with sharp, jerky movements, shaking the other man. “Dear God, there’s no air in there. We have to- we have to do something-” Alex shakes his head, and the two continue to babble desperately at each other.

Dream ignores it all.

“You would take her, then?” the Maiden asks, intensely.

Dream tips his head, not a yes, but not a no. “My choice,” he mouths.

There is a long silence. At least, silence among the Fates and Dream, for beyond them there is a cacophony of mortal chaos, but it does not touch them. “Yes,” the Crone says finally, intense and waiting.

“I accept this burden,” Dream mouths. The Mother closes her eyes on a shaky sigh, the Maiden makes a small sound that could be sorrow or relief, and the Crone snarls wordlessly. The Mother begins to step forwards, and Dream holds up a hand to stop her. She halts. So do the mortals. “I did not say I would take it,” he reminds her. Her eyes widen.

“What is he saying?!” Alex Burgess demands in a panic. “What is he looking at?!”

“Calliope already refused all others,” the Maiden says, stepping around the cage to come to her sister-self’s side. “Apollo, Zeus, all the gods, all the pantheons.”

“Not a god,” Morpheus agrees. The child is part mortal, after all, if not quite half any more; not with Dream’s claim upon her.

“One of the Endless, then?” the Crone challenges, also closing the distance so that the three are arrayed as one. “I did not think you trusted your children unto Death’s embrace.”

Dream flinches. But then, cruelty is the province of the Crone, so he takes the blow with as much grace as he can muster in his present situation, and lets the barb slide. “No,” he agrees. Not a one of his siblings is fit to raise a child, not even Death, though if he had to pick one of them, she would be his first choice.

“Then to one of your subjects?” the Maiden wonders.

“A child cannot live on dreams alone, sister-self,” the Crone snaps.

“No,” Dream agrees.

“Then where?” the Mother asks patiently.

“Where else is left?” Dream challenges.

There is another moment of silence. Not of incomprehension, but of disbelief. True, if this were even a single century ago, Dream would not have indulged even the fantasy of such an idea for more than the heartbeat it would take to dismiss it. But he has no good choices left, and this, at least, will spare the child the burden of his failure.

Hopefully.

“A mortal?” the Crone demands, incredulous.

“What do you even know of the mortal realm?” the Maiden asks, half-laughing.

“Will you bid us leave her with mortal authorities? Abandon her on the steps of a temple? Return her to her blood?” the Mother challenges him right back, gentle but cutting.

“No,” Dream denies. “There is but one mortal I know beyond the Dreaming.” He will not say the name, not while his captors watch, desperately trying to read his lips, to get his attention, to demand his subservience. They will not have any of it; not one thing of his will they pry from him.

“Robert Gadling,” the Maiden concludes, and Dream inclines his head.

“You think he will help you? After how you treated him at your last meeting?” the Crone prods, scornful.

There is truth to her words. Dream knows it. He was cruel without cause, and Hob would have every right to refuse to aid him now. But for all his flaws, Hob is not a cruel man, and Dream does not think he would leave a child to suffer for Dream’s mistakes. Besides, it is the only avenue he can see that has even the slightest chance of ending without bringing ruin to an innocent life.

“I can but hope.”

[justminawrites]

Satellites

AO3

1 | 2 | TBC

Summary: Six years after the Lunar Revolution, everything has changed for Crescent Moon Darnel. Now a top notch Lunar government official, Cress spends her time sifting through Lunar databases identifying the millions of people who went missing during Levana's reign, when she comes across a glitch that holds the fate of the entire country in its code. With the help of former lunar guard (and current recluse) Jacin Clay, Cress races against time to uncover a dangerous plot that could change the increasingly volatile tensions between Earth and Luna forever.

“UNFORTUNATELY THIS UNIT IS UNABLE TO PERMIT VISITORS AT THE MOMENT—“

Cress pressed the buzzer by the door for the fifteenth time and resisted the urge to swear into it.

Anyone who didn’t know better would assume that the occupants of the unit were merely out for the night, but she couldn’t be fooled that easily. She’d tracked down the IP address of his port-screen which had led her to this motel at the outskirts of the capital city, Artemisia, and remained unchanged for a week. 

He hadn’t left his unit in a week.

“UNIT NUMBER TWO-FOUR-TWO—” The automated voice was cold and unfeeling, as was the sudden breeze that swooped in out of nowhere and stung the back of her neck.

“Jacin— let me in!” She nearly squeaked into the built-in microphone by the buzzer, as another gust of wind ran right through her flimsy apparel. Today was not a good day for yoga pants.

“—STATE YOUR NAME AND PURPOSE OF VISIT TO CONTINUE.”

“Crescent Moon Darnel” she repeated, “Here on official Government business”

“UNFORTUNATELY THIS UNIT IS UNABLE TO PERMIT VISITORS AT THE MOMENT. PLEASE LEAVE YOUR LUNAR ID NUMBER TO BE NOTIFIED OF THE  EARLIEST AVAILABLE APPOINTMENT DATE TO SCHEDULE YOUR VISIT.“

“Jacin Clay, I swear to All the Stars I will break this—”

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you say things like Government business” 

Cress blinked and stepped back as the door beeped and slid outward to reveal a fraction of a scruffy blonde beard and one blue-gray eye that somehow managed to look both disapproving and exasperated at the same time. 

“What do you want, Cress?” 

She crossed her arms.

“A ‘Hello Cress, haven’t seen you in a while. Sorry for leaving you outside to freeze off your ass’ would be nice to hear.” 

“Hello Cress,” Jacin said through gritted teeth, “What do you want?” 

“Did you get my email about the job-“

“Yes, and I clearly stated in that email, that I don’t want it.”

“But the-“

“No.”

“But we’ll be-“

“No.”

“Just give me five-“

“No.”

Cress pinched the bridge of her nose and released a breath to keep from losing her temper. If she’d known Jacin would be this uncooperative she probably would’ve been better off risking her luck alone. Or with the state approved guard she’d been so quick to refuse, Liam something…  Caine? Kinney? 

“If that’s all you wanted, then you should leave.”

Cress scrambled for a solution as the door began to slide shut once more.

“It’s about Princess Winter,” she blurted, and the beeping stopped. A long silence seemed to stretch between them and she had the strange urge to hold her breath. 

Everyone knew that the lunar princess and her bodyguard had broken up almost half a year ago; it was plastered across all the tabloids and net-zines, creating quite the scandal. Nobody knew why, of course, but Jacin quit working at the palace soon after. Cress had heard the news from one of the team members in her department and commed Jacin immediately. He never opened it.

“You said it wasn’t about Winter” Jacin said finally. She could hear the frown in his voice and realised she’d written herself into a corner; automatically reaching out to tug on a lock of her hair for comfort. 

The job had nothing to do with Princess Winter really, but she’d finally gotten the council to approve her solo mission under the condition that she be accompanied by a trained agent, i.e., former lunar guard Jacin Clay, who’d been missing for the past six months. So she’d chased him down with a single lead, stood outside his unit all evening and probably acquired some kind of new moon-frostbite in doing so and wasn’t about to give up without him at least hearing her out.

“Right,” she began as the door slid open a little farther, now revealing a faded white t shirt, “Yes, right, I did say that it wasn’t about Princess Winter in the email.. because I didn’t want.. it to.. um, get compromised?”

Not her best execution but it seemed to do the trick. The door slid open completely and Cress stepped into the unit, warmth flooding her from all sides and seeping right into her skin. She released a shudder as Jacin typed a few buttons on the touchpad by the doorframe which automatically lit up the room. 

Cress immediately wished it hadn’t. 

Calling the unit messy would be an understatement of massive proportions. She smelt the alcohol before she saw it. Rows and rows of reusable cans were scattered around the unit in a weirdly precise manner; some were stacked up against one another, some were carefully placed beside one another in a semicircular pattern, under and over the furniture and some were simply unopened. 

It was a controlled sort of chaos and she didn’t know wether or not to bring it up as Jacin walked past her and plopped down on the grey sofa. At least now Cress knew what he’d been doing all week.

Wisely, she chose not to bring up the room and simply sat down on the closest thing she could find— a coffee table adjacent to the sofa. Jacin winced as she accidentally displaced a can and rubbed his face irritatedly. Now that she could see him better in the light, it was clear that he hadn’t slept in a while. The bags under his eyes were rubbed raw, his eyelids were puffy and he was still in his boxers. 

Cress would’ve normally been embarrassed; he was so different from the polished, professional lunar guard she’d met a few years ago, but now she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but pity. The breakup really did a number on him.

“Would you quit it.”

“Quit what?”

“Stop it. Stop looking at me like I’m some kind of charity case.” 

But still the same snarky Jacin. 

“I’m not!”

“Look, Cress, your face is an open book alright? Just cut it out. I’m completely fine.”

 Cress rolled her eyes. He did not look fine. He had never looked less fine in all the time she’d seen him and she’d seen him nearly die multiple times— but she pursed her lips and turned away. 

It’s not your business, It’s not your business, she repeated the words her therapist had her memorise, in her head. Jacin and you might’ve been friends once but a lot has changed now and it. is. not. your. business. 

“So,” she said out loud, “Cans huh?”

Jacin looked at her in disbelief. 

“If you ever need to talk,” she tried again much to Jacin’s chagrin, “I know someone that can—”

“The only thing I need to talk about is how this job has anything to do with Winter” he snapped. 

‘You idiot.’ Cress mentally scolded herself, Dr. Miriam would be disappointed in her. She really should’ve minded her own business.

“Well, it’s about that glitch I found in one of the databases regarding Lunar immigration—”

“I read the email Cress,” he sighed, “You think it’s some kind of encryption.”

“Exactly, and just last week one of the council members received a notification with the same base code as the glitch—“

“Wait— council members?” Jacin looked at her, surprised, “The Lunar Council’s behind all this?”

“Yes, but just the surface level stuff—” Cress opened her mouth to backtrack but his eyebrows narrowed immediately.

“Is that why you contacted me? Because you needed someone to advocate for the council again?”

Jacin’s relationship with the newly appointed Lunar Council was precarious on a good day, but after everything that happened at their last Annual General Meeting it had derailed into outright hostility. 

Cress chewed the inside of her cheek guiltily; she was partly to blame for that debacle, after all.

“Jacin, this wasn’t Nova’s call—“ 

But he wasn’t listening to her anymore– Jacin had risen to his feet and begun pacing around the room in brisk, controlled strides, keeping well within his can-stacked path. She watched him walk into the kitchen and walk back out, somehow not upsetting a single aluminium-alloy can from its position despite his animated monologue. 

“I knew it! I knew leaving the council to her was a bad move. Let me guess, she wants me to grovel at her feet again. I bet she would just love it if if I came crawling back—”

The ‘she’ in reference to Jacin’s tirade was, of course, the newly instated Lunar Head of the Biochemical Research Wing, Sybil Nova. Daughter of the late Sybil Mira (Head Thaumaturge and Cress’s personal tormentor), and having established a fairly positive reputation within the Lunar community for being a shell herself, Nova was, on paper, the perfect candidate for the job. 

Except for the fact that she opposed the existence of lunar guards. 

Jacin was on a roll.

“Whose stupid idea was it to nominate the daughter of Levana’s old lapdog as the face of the new Lunar Democracy anyway, they’re the real idiots here–”

“Public vote,” Cress chimed in, but he steamrolled right through her, talking to himself now.

“And why appoint ME of all people, with such a futile mission– oh, I know damn well why. She just wants me to come back empty handed so she can rub it in my face; ‘see this is why the lunar guard is so outdated.. now if we sent a mecCorp to do his job’–“

“IT WAS ME, ALRIGHT?!” Cress yelled finally, unable to take much more of his ranting.

“What?” 

She swallowed slowly, nails biting into her palms as she curled her fists.

“It was me. I asked for you to be assigned to the mission.”

Jacin sat back down. 

An awkward silence shuffled between them until Jacin finally leaned forward to try to meet her eyes. Cress’s gaze, however, was stubbornly affixed to the floor. 

“Cress..” He trailed away, unable to find the words.

“I know you’re still mad at me for what happened.”

“I’m not—“

“And,” she pressed on, “That’s fine if you are. I won’t apologise for what I did that day. But this could be bigger than the both of us.”

Jacin shook his head and looked up to his white-grey ceiling. 

“What are you doing, Cress.”

It almost felt like a rhetorical statement when he said it but Cress bristled all the same. 

She considered kicking one of the can dominoes out of pure spite but refrained after seeing Jacin’s expression.

“I’m trying to save my country, Jacin, our country— and I need your help.”

This finally got his attention.

 Jacin rose and helped her up; Cress took his hand confusedly but before she could say anything he’d already guided her to the door and slid it open. 

“Goodbye, Cress.” he said with a note of finality, and locked her out.

______________________________________________________________

Ah. 

Cress debated punching the metal but decided that she wasn’t going to go back with both broken knuckles and a broken promise. They’d just have to settle for one. 

Sighing, she trudged back to her hover and pulled up the notifications on her portscreen. It read: 3 unopened comms. 

Wow. Three already? Carol must be in a bad mood if she sent her three comms within the hour, Cress frowned as she held out her arm, scanning her wrist to open the hover doors. Usually her stringent supervisor refused to go over one, extremely long vidlink that often involved public scolding for a rise in budget costs, even though Cress was sure that they were paying hourly and not per comm. She’d held her tongue anyway, she didn’t need to give Carol yet another reason to hate her.

The hover beeped and deducted 50 univs from her chip but before the doors could flick open, Cress felt something hard and cold press into the back of her head. She didn’t need to turn to know it was a gun. 

She slowly raised her arms in surrender. 

Stay calm, she thought to herself, you’ve been trained for this. But her heart was beating so loud that Cress might have completely missed what her assailant said if they had not punctured each word with a jab to her head. 

“Get. Down. Now.”

Cress obediently dropped to her knees. Unfortunately, the hover was shielding both her and her attacker from the windows of the apartment complex so even if someone had conveniently managed to look outside, they wouldn’t be able to see her.

“What—” She began.

“Be quiet.” 

Cress tried to steady her breathing and focus. 

This must be a robbery, and seeing as her attacker didn’t attempt to use any glamour, they were most likely a shell. The voice sounded muffled, so the attacker was probably wearing a mask— an escaped convict maybe? Someone who didn’t want to be immediately caught and handed in to the guard. Her fingers twitched; it would take all of four seconds to reach into her hover and pull out the standard-issue taser she’d left in the front seat. 

Cress knew she should’ve had it on her at all times, but she didn’t want Jacin to think she’d taser him into submission if he didn’t agree. 

The attacker seemed to be rummaging around for something behind her and swearing quietly, giving her enough time to discreetly flick her wrist. Nothing happened for one second, two and then the hover doors clicked open smoothly, opening outwards like insect wings, blinding the attacker for two infinitely precious seconds and Cress quickly lunged to the side just as the gunshot resounded all around her. 

“Shit— Shit!”

She rose quickly. Now that she had a clearer view of the perpetrator she was taken aback by how young they seemed to look. 

Big brown eyes were their only visible features, with both their hair and the lower half of their face, as Cress had guessed, concealed under a black hood and mask. They were clothed in an inconspicuous outfit, with pale, freckled arms jutting out of an oversized vest, grey pants and hiking boots. She ducked behind the hover again as another gunshot ripped through the night. 

Cress just had to reach into the hover for her weapon and it would all be over, but this kid was making it way more difficult than it needed to be. 

“Hey!” She called out, trying to distract the attacker, “You don’t want to do this.”

“Shut up, Ungifted.” The attacker spat.

Well, okay then. Cress scooted closer to the unlocked hover and blindly reached inside, mentally cursing her lack of foresight. She should’ve expected that someone would’ve recognised her, even though it’d been nearly six years since the Lunar Revolution. 

Their faces had been broadcast over and over like celebrities and there was even a time where she couldn’t walk to her hover without getting ambushed by paparazzi. This was probably some kind of ransom situation.

Her fingers closed around a hard, box like device just as the attacker turned and pointed the gun right between her eyes. 

Cress held her breath. She would’ve been scared if she hadn’t noticed the slight tremor in the attacker’s hand. Her hands had shook the same way when she’d first held a gun. 

“Get up.” 

She quickly scanned the area around her for a distraction but found nothing. She was facing the units directly now. Frowning she tried to discreetly pull the taser out but the attacker narrowed their eyes in suspicion and brought the gun closer. Just as she was about to consider conceding the taser in favour of a well-timed kick, the door to a unit slid open and the last person she’d expected to see walked out. 

Jacin?

Noticing the sudden shock in her eyes, her attacker turned quickly giving Cress enough time to pull her hand out of the hover and pull the trigger on the taser. Two thin silver wires shot out of the device and caught the attacker right in the neck, immobilising them and causing them to drop the gun. 

Cress quickly kicked it away as they crumpled to the ground, and it slid across the paved road, spinning and spinning until it came to rest at Jacin’s feet.

Cress waved at him awkwardly— he looked too shocked to wave back, before she pressed the trigger again and the wires reeled back into her weapon. 

A small part of her was grateful that he’d walked out at just the right time but an even smaller part of her was proud he’d seen her fight and win. It probably wouldn’t change his mind about the job but it would change his mind about her. See, she wanted to say, I’m not weak, I can take care of myself. 

“Cress! Move! ” 

She dropped the taser, alarmed and looked up to see Jacin clutching the gun tightly, pointing it right beside her head. 

“What—“ she began but never finished her sentence. 

The last thing Cress remembered was the sound of glass shattering as the hover door beside her exploded and feeling a tiny needle prick the back of her neck, before her world turned dark and she passed out.

[acquired-stardust]

Game Spotlight #4: Bulk Slash (1997)

Acquired Stardust’s first spotlight on a Sega Saturn game! Come join Ash as she takes a look at a game that never made it outside of Japan with 1997′s Bulk Slash!

The Sega Saturn has long been a fascinating subject to me, its rise and fall perhaps the culmination of a whirlwind of internal company politics and a rapidly changing landscape of both hardware and software. The attitude among gamers well into the 6th generation of consoles was as though its failure was a foregone conclusion not through any nuanced variety of factors, but because “duh, the Saturn sucked!”, the sort of take that time and hindsight allows to fester into a comfortable, easily repeatable opinion that you’ve heard enough people say that you too assume must be true.

But I’m happy to report that in my time experiencing a variety of titles on the Saturn in an attempt to satiate my longstanding curiosity, the Saturn doesn’t suck! In fact, the Saturn has been something that has consistently delivered games that surpassed my expectations. Daytona USA brought home a legendary racing title with a soundtrack as infamous as it is glorious (I’m personally of the opinion that Takenobu Mitsuyoshi is a genius and his involvement in anything always makes me happy), Capcom’s legendary run of fighting games was captured almost in its entirety on the Saturn, having ports of Street Fighter 2, the entire run of the Street Fighter Alpha series as well as Darkstalkers and what was at that time the entire selection of crossover games with Marvel, all of which looked significantly better than their Playstation port counterparts. SNK brought its own excellent array of arcade fighting game ports to home consoles in multiple King of Fighters releases alongside The Last Blade.

All of this is to say that the Saturn had something of a reputation as a system dominated by high quality arcade ports, which at the time was a significant thing to be able to say about a home console.  It’s a talking point that has settled into that comfortable space of easily repeatable factoid that may or may not be true, but in this case it is. The Sega Saturn was indeed home to high quality arcade ports, but something that’s lost in that conversation is just how many interesting, experimental and high quality titles don’t fit the mold of ‘taking something you played in the arcade and bringing it home’ - the Saturn-exclusive games. One such example is 1997′s Bulk Slash, developed by a little-known company called CAProductions in partnership with  since-defunct publisher Hudson. It was only the developer’s fourth game, and their first try at the emerging world of 3D games, a world in which conventional wisdom is that the Saturn struggled with.

Bulk Slash is something of a mix of Macross and Zeta Gundam, stylistically. An action game with a mech that transforms into a jet, featuring a story about military factions causing trouble of the genocidal variety to avenge alleged oppression. Switching freely between mech and jet forms, the main character Cress pilots his conspicuously Gundam-like mech in a campaign to defeat the Gardona military which has managed to wrap up his childhood friend Riizen into its ranks through political events prior to the start of the game. Playing out across seven stages each with different goals and a boss fight to close out the mission, the player can collect various score-boosting items as well as health recovery items and weapon upgrades not unlike Contra or Metal Slug. Bulk Slash controls remarkably well for a game featuring both a humanoid combatant in its mech running around shooting and throwing grenades as well as a jet, all while not utilizing a secondary right thumbstick for camera controls, which are instead relegated to shoulder buttons on the controller. The action is fairly fast paced with an impressive frame rate, only slowing down in instances of large chained explosions going off in certain circumstances. Just as well, the graphics and art style are quite good (almost reminiscent of the rise of the recent ‘2DHD’ art style), and the soundtrack very fitting for its time though not especially memorable.

Layered into the fairly standard (albeit impressive) action gameplay is the ‘M.I.S.S’ mechanic (which stands for ‘Manageable Intelligent Support System’), a collection of 7 NPCs which must be located in each of Bulk Slash���s 7 stages serving as navigators for Cress, giving direction on the location of targets and bosses. Each of these NPCs are girls of various design, occupation and personality, including one who throws lots of English phrases into her otherwise Japanese speech which is very entertaining. Bulk Slash’s M.I.S.S system is more than meets the eye however, adding light dating sim mechanics into the game, with all 7 girls having their own endings and CG art unlocked depending on the player’s score upon defeat of the game’s final boss. It’s a small thing but really goes a long way in providing an experience that’s just varied and customizable enough. Having only 7 missions, the game is not especially long and only saves after successful runs through it after defeating the final boss, which itself has a boss gauntlet before it that can be a little rough while you’re still getting used to the game but if you put time into the game you’ll soon be able to defeat them without taking too much (or even any) damage, assisted by the fact that each of them seems to have timings for which you can score a critical hit, either dealing heavy damage or sometimes even outright destroying them in one blow.

Bulk Slash, as previously mentioned, was never released outside of Japan but the game is relatively simple to navigate and understand, being communicated very well visually. There was also a recent English translation patch which is a little hit or miss translation and localization-wise, but otherwise should assist people who don’t speak Japanese in understanding the story and character interactions, which is surprisingly good (and surprisingly dark at times) and a clear love letter to Universal Century Gundam.

Bulk Slash was the second Saturn game I ever played (after the all-time classic Daytona USA, for those wondering), and I’m glad it was such an early stop in the tour of the Saturn library because it shows off a lot of the strengths of the platform as well as bucking some of the usual talking points about the system, such as not doing 3D very well. It also layers in some of Japan’s big gaming trends at the time, such as dating sim elements most that most prominently and recently (at the time anyway) helped make Sakura Taisen a big hit on the platform just a year earlier. It’s a shame Bulk Slash never saw release outside of Japan as it would probably have done fairly well and be fondly remembered, and it’s definitely the sort of game that feels as though it would be pretty popular were it to have been an indie game releasing today.

A gem hidden among the stones, Bulk Slash is undoubtedly stardust.

--Ash

[numberonecameraman]

📢 unova gym leaders

Unlike the Champions, I haven’t spent an extended amount of time with the Gym Leaders. But, I have fought most of them, so hopefully this will do.

Chili, Cilan, and Cress are a weird bunch. They do this thing where they speak at the same time and finish each others’ sentences. They think it’s funny, but I think it’s creepy. Their teams also suck. No wonder they got replaced.

I helped with a special about Cheren and his two friends after the first Team Plasma incident. He’s a quiet kid and really wanted to get the interview over with. His responses were all a couple sentences except the ones about Hilbert. I saw him at the PWT a few years later and he appears to be doing well. If his team there was anything to go by, it must suck to fight the Aspertia Gym.

Lenora’s genuinely intimidating. She’s a sweet person overall but never get on her bad side. Her team can mop the floor with you and her husband can throw a decent punch. Beyond that, she’s opened a restaurant in Nacrene after retiring. The food is delectable. Check it out if you can.

Burgh is kinda like Wallace but replace drama with art. Everything’s about paintings to him. He makes great art, but his real talent lies in interior design. His Gym should be all the evidence of that you need. I struggled battling him but that’s mostly because my team sucks against Bug types.

I’ve had to record some Elesa’s modeling videos. She’s probably the most sensible of the stuck up rich celebrities. She treats her crew like people and usually doesn’t give outrageous demands. Usually. That Emolga strategy she uses in battle makes me seriously question my opinion on her thought. No kind person could do that to someone willingly.

Clays also a little weird. He makes a lot of weird jokes and his accent makes it impossible to understand the punchlines half the time. I appreciate what he did for the Driftveil community and actually investing money in the town instead of hoarding it like some other CEOs I know. His battle was an interesting one. I think he threw the fight. He primarily lost to a Maractus. I love him, but he’s not the strongest.

Skyla’s really annoying. Though part of that might be because I had to wait three days to battle her since she was doing some deliveries in another Region. She loves her job and I’m glad she does, but she made being a pilot her entire personality and it bothers me. Kinda like Lance now that I think about it. The difference between them is that she can actually get serious if the chips are down.

Brycen is the Gym Leader I know best since I worked on the modern Brycen-Man series. He takes acting deadly seriously. He’ll stop entire scenes if something’s slightly off. It’s annoying in real time, but I appreciate the dedication. I battled him at his prime so the fight was a really tough one. He spent half the battle in exploiting my weaknesses then teaching me how to avoid them while fighting him. It was an awesome fight.

I’ve only met Drayden once. He’s terrifying. He’s almost 7 feet tall and the rumors are true. He wrestles with fully grown Dragon Pokémon and I’ve never seen him lose. I’m not ashamed to say I lost to him twice before I beat him. Despite that, Drayden is awesome. He let me crash at his place while I was in Opelucid and really cares about the people. He and Alder are good friends, so that’s a barrier to entry, but I try to look past that.

I already talked about Iris in the Champions post.

[maytheoddshq]

Cress Meadowforge (she/her). Trainer. District One. Twenty-five. Anya Taylor-Joy. UPDATED BIO.

TWs: sexual assault, drugs/addiction, forced medical procedures, burn mentions, violence

Cress is a Queen of the Night. More aptly, a night-blooming cereus: a cacti flower that only blooms once a year, for a single night. For most of the year, she remains tightly coiled, spikes bristled for any who might venture too close. No amount of tending to can coax her from her shell, from the armor she has built to protect herself from the world outside. And then, in the most unlikely moment, when all the world lets down its guard, she blossoms.

A rare few will see this - see her - but that is all it takes.

Born to wealthy jewelers Fleur and Myron Meadowforge in the heart of District One, Cressida understood that certain heirlooms held invaluable merit, regardless of their beauty. It was the artistry and craftsmanship that mattered. She viewed the Games in much the same way: a wretched masterpiece without compare. She watched each one in horrid appreciation, the way someone admires the truly macabre, knowing that one day, she would have the honor of bearing this beautiful burden too.

  And when she did, she realized there was nothing beautiful about it. 

  Cressida volunteered for the 120th Hunger Games, her eyes bright and hungry. She had trained for this for years beside the other Careers, all sharpening their teeth against the others, smiling cruelly the way an animal warned its prey the end was near. Her skills were her charm, her air of innocence, and her beauty – at least, that’s what her mentors instructed her to portray. They painted her as something desirable and riveting to sponsors and a sincere ally and advocate to the other tributes, and it was a spotless, hollow facade. 

  They’d called it Clima Cladis – the climate of disaster – and Cressida remembered thinking that she wouldn’t have to kill anyone, that doing so would actually be a mercy compared to what the environment was doing to them. It’s the seasons, the commenters had gasped, and they had been close. It had been the seasons, but not like she’d ever known: summer so hot it seared and melted flesh from the bone; winter so cold that, had they survived, it would have been without noses, or fingers, or toes; and spring, with its torrential downpour that flooded the arena and mutts that emerged from hibernation ravenous and cruel. Only the fall had been a reprieve, and they craved it each rapid cycle – emerging from their hiding places in search of supplies, and sustenance, and sponsorships.

  She won by killing the entirety of the Career pack first, framing another district for the slaughter before positioning herself as a helpless fawn in need of companionship – a sheep who had been forced along with the wolves. One by one, Cressida won the others’ favor – their trust and affection – until they lost their lives to her hand in turn. The pair from Eight. They took her poison willingly, thinking it was medicine. The boy from Six, who held her down in the burning sun. She broke his legs, let him fry in the summer heat, listened to his screams from the mouth of a cave. In the end, Cressida didn’t even have to kill the last tribute: Lila. She – under the impression that they were in love – killed herself to let Cressida win, throwing herself from the top of the mountain that they had been forced up in the finale. She secured her place in arena history as having one of the highest kill counts out of any victors. Cressida’s Games were heralded not as one of startling might or breath-taking violence, but of operatic melodrama – of unparalleled manipulation and cunning. 

  Cressida had dazzled Panem in the arena, but she found the price of victorhood immeasurably steep. The Head Gamemaker, Eugene Pharmakos, found her astonishing, a cunning creature of unparalleled beauty. She was invited to meet him the night before her victory tour – an encounter that irreparably altered her life. Despite the efforts of her mentors, Domitia and Dahlia, Cressida was commodified for Capitolite consumption. Drugged with morphling and sleeping syrup, she spent her victory tour in a stupor, given uppers to keep her cognizant enough to perform at each designated stop. Exploited for the amusement and entertainment of the elite, Cressida realized that she was now District One’s finest luxury export. She was eighteen.

  The life of a victor further dehumanized her, stripping her of agency she had fought – and won – to reclaim. Had she not done as they asked? Was she not entitled now to a life of spoils – of peace, at least? Scarred on nearly a fourth of her body, Cressida begged the Capitol to heal her, to graft her skin and remove the burn marks. They agreed, put her under, sent her into surgery. But the Capitol saw the scars as salacious, desirable in their morbidity – the price of victorhood. One Cressida couldn’t afford to override. Instead, she was given cosmetic surgery. Her buccal fat removed, her facial symmetry increased, her lips injected with fillers, her body altered. When she awoke, Cressida wept for a week. 

  Still, it was easy to feign contentedness under such a continued stupor, still weaning her way off of the sleeping syrup and morphling. She knew already how to behave, so much so that she began to exist as though automated: to angle the right way, to recite her words carefully, to enrapture and entice. Nothing about Cressida felt real anymore, and while she’d never been angrier or more miserable, she’d also never been more popular.

  When given the chance, Cressida returned to the Tower as quickly as possible, eager for a task that allowed her to channel her rage. She took up training, committed to giving tributes a chance beyond their perceived or initial physical capabilities. She held no allegiance to a particular district; her politics defied regional boundary-lines, and her willingness to sidestep ethical boundaries made her an ideal saboteur with intimate access to tributes, mentors, and sponsors alike. Another Gamemaker, Lex Sterling, saw promise in this, and Cressida once again had a purpose.

  Shedding her expensive skin, she left her old self behind – that angry girl from One, so vulnerable – and crafted Cress instead. Cress was composed. Cress was unshakeable. Cress did whatever she wanted. Cress existed only to indulge: to have, and to command, and to destroy. She began spying for Lex, and in turn, he offered his protection and his assistance in her pursuit of revenge against all those that had harmed her, including Head Gamemaker Pharmakos. Cress made things happen, or made things go away – it didn’t matter. It was all the same. She was biding her time. Building connections. Indebting. For years, it carried on this way, and Cress distanced herself from the before. Now and then were lifetimes away. 

  At times, she became so far removed from the past that Cress considered herself less a victor of One and more a victor of District Zero, a secret society and social club run in the catacombs beneath the Capitol, fueled by the same hyper-advanced technology and medicine that was used in the arenas. Here, she could operate within a familiar landscape, only now, with greater agency. Here, she could chase a high on her own accord, partial to the shimmering purple of ether. Here, she could explore the macabre in peace. Cress was a starlet of the upper-class elite, an heiress to the diamond mines owned by her family, and now the patron saint of the Capitol's underground social scene. At last, she had everything she ever wanted. 

  Until Cress met Slate Skylar during the 132nd Games and realized that – perhaps – there was more in the world than she ever bargained for. The pair began as sparring partners, training together in the Tower each night during the Games cycle. However, one evening, after Slate failed to show, Cress found him on the Twelfth Floor, surrounded by anti-Capitol propaganda: his rebel zine, TH3 T0MMYKN0CK3R. But Cress, despite her pro-Games perspective and her societal standing, was intrigued, drawn to the truth of Panem, desperate to understand the world beyond what they were shown on TV screens. With a shifting perspective, Cress found herself at Slate’s side: training, bantering, working on the zine. Perhaps it was inevitable. Only a boy raised in ashes could love something burnt. But Cress and Slate – two feral creatures, afraid of being trapped, suspicious of the world – found each other, and for once, the world did not hurt. 

  It was too good to be true. Too good to last. And a year later, during the off-cycle following the 133rd Victor’s Ball, Cress received a tip from Lex: Peacekeepers were coming to raid the apartment she and Slate shared. They were coming to arrest him. Cress and Slate attempted to burn the evidence, turning the complex into an inferno. But as Cress slipped through the window onto the fire escape, Slate locked it behind her. She watched as he turned back, continuing to shovel items into the blaze. She watched as the Peacekeepers arrested him, dragging him away. Cress was transported to a safe house on the outskirts of the city, where she was treated for smoke inhalation and her burn wounds while she and Lex worked to clear her name. 

  It was also where she took a test, alone, sitting on the floor of the bathroom. One that came back positive. Cress was pregnant. Her whole world had changed overnight.

  Eventually, when Slate resurfaced in a Capitol prison, she was able to leverage her connections to curate a brief goodbye. During the visit, grasping each other between metal bars, Cress broke the news. He told her to choose for herself, to keep it or not. Slate was to be executed. It was no longer his to help decide. He would never know the child, never be more than a story Cress and Hestia told. The Peacekeeper said time was up. Cress wanted to die.

  She went to Twelve, where she stayed with Hestia Ember. Under her protection and guidance, Cress learned how to care for the child she would bring into this world alone. They waited for months for word on Slate’s execution, his fate left undecided, dragging on – painfully – further and further. When it was time for Reaping Day, Cress returned home to One. She was still a victor, still eligible. It was her duty to stand on stage and look strong, proud. But as she walked to the Reaping stage, Cress’ phone buzzed with a news notification: Slate, the infamous rebel also known as Meta Morphic, had been Reaped as a tribute from Twelve. She stumbled out onto the stage, stunned, only to hear a familiar voice ring out. Her youngest sister, Callisto, with her hand held high in the crowd. I volunteer. Once again, in an instant, Cress’ world came crashing down.

Strengths: charming, eloquent, strategic, clever, warm

Weaknesses: manipulative, vengeful, materialistic, hedonistic

PENNED BY: LENA

[antihibikase2]

BW : II - The High Priestess (Upright)

“You met a guy like that?” 

“Yeah..” 

Though the battle went in Hilbert’s favor, he didn’t want to entertain the possibility of having lost against such a person.

“Ugh, if daddy was here, he wouldn’t let us hear the end of it!” Bianca frowns, brushing her mother’s gift- a Lillipup, on her lap. “I know we’re encouraged to ask for help when we need it, but come on, Hilbert! If it feels wrong in your gut, run away!”

And the fact that that strange man released his Pokemon right after the battle too, as if he wasn’t willing to form bonds with them..

At least Purrloin seemed happy.

“But-!” He doesn’t get the chance to talk as she throws a potion at him. “Well, he had some things to say, you know? And I don’t mind listening at all, but..”

He looks down at the potion that Bianca threw at him, his own reflection bouncing off the surface of the bottle.

“Cheren was getting uncomfortable, so I ended up challenging him to a battle. Kinda. I didn’t say anything, but-”

“Oh, Hilloo, you’re a horrible liar. It’s all in your eyes. And you have no patience at all when it comes to either Cheren or me,” Though her tone is scolding, there was a bit of amusement. “That’s why daddy depends on you, you know? Even if he won’t admit it, he’s glad you’re here.”

 Hilbert could only laugh sheepishly.

Bianca had noticed the air of the group had slightly changed when she left the Pokemon Center at Accumula.

Though they parted ways not too soon after, she couldn’t help but sense how quieter Cheren had become, and how Hilbert seemed almost hesitant to let him or Bianca out of his sight.

To think they would meet such a strange person early on- Bianca hoped it wouldn’t persist.

They did leave on a journey to become independent after all; the last thing any of them wanted deep down was to run back home and prove her father right.

“As long as we all promise to meet up like this every now and again, that’ll put my daddy’s worries at ease.”

“Then he’ll stop hounding you?”

“Ugh, I wish.”

As she talks, one of the waiters- the one with wavy blue hair, brings both her and Hilbert a cup of tea and a complimentary bag of cookies. 

“Oh, thank you so much!”

“It is our pleasure,” A hand is placed on his chest with a gentle bow. “You’re a challenger too, aren’t you? Then please, enjoy Striaton’s finest delicacies while we prepare the battlefield. Your friend here,” His eyes look up at Hilbert, almost as if annoyed. “Is quite a brute, and made quite a mess in our stage.”

Hilbert grins. “They’re tough, Bianca! The triplet you’ll go against is the one who has a type advantage over your starter-”

“And there you go yapping your mouth,” Cress rolls his eyes. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but here you go spoiling it.”

“Oops!”

“Aw, Hilloo! You can’t spoil a good surprise like that!”

“With that in mind, however, I hope you’ll be a much more graceful challenger,” Cress huffs. “In the meantime, I suggest training at the Dreamyard. This may take awhile."

He leaves the pair as he joins his twin brothers; with the excited way the redhead was mopping the floors, Bianca could only guess that he was the one next in line to face her.

“The Dreamyard, huh? I didn’t get a chance to explore it much before I battled them..” Hilbert mutters. “Hey, why don’t we go there together? I can help you train!”

Lillipup yaps excitedly at the thought.

“That was the place that was always off limits to non-trainers, right?"

“Yup! Only Professor Juniper got to go in when she brought us along. I can help you out so you don't make a big mess!"

"Hey, you're just as careless as I am, Hilloo!"

"Yeah, but you made a mess in my room!"

"Cheri too!"

"To be fair, we fought before Cheri and I did, so-"

“Well, it was one of us, and it wasn’t me!”

"Hey!" One of the triplets barks at them, broom clutched in hand. His Pansear mimicked his expression. "If you two have the energy to fight here, then get your asses to the Dreamyard and train!"

"Brother!"

Hilbert and Bianca watch as another one- the one with green hair, tries to wrangle his twin.

Cress steps out of the cleaning closet and begins to throw insults at his brother's way. Chili marches up to the eldest and says something, which leads to Cress dragging him at the very back for a good scolding.

The middle child, Cilan, could only watch helplessly as his brothers bickered.

When his eyes meet Bianca's and Hilbert's, he looks like he's on the verge of crumbling into a thousand pieces.

"Um, this is embarrassing, but please do visit the Dreamyard! Trainers often say we catch them off guard, and, um-"

"Now what did we say about speaking rudely to customers?"

"HAH! As if you don't do the same thing! You're just pretentious about it!"

"...leave my brothers to me, or I fear we will never get things done.."

As the brothers continued to bicker, Bianca stuffs the bag of cookies into her bag as Hilbert downs the rest of his tea. They awkwardly make it out of the restaurant, passing by several other patrons as they do so.

As the duo leaves the restaurant and into the dreamyard, a lab coat flutters in the wind, accompanied by the sickly sweet smell of dream mist.

“Oh? Those kids.. aren’t they..?”