#had a lot of technical difficulties like my spirit face hair not being placed well and my cloak keep fallin of my shoulders but waaa.

[persephonaae]

Waaaa I’m lookin at some of the behind the scenes photos from the photoshoot on Sunday, and the snowflakes are far from finished but I still can’t believe I managed to capture the snowflake texture on the underside of the hat so well already (*o*)

(Thank you to the other cosplayers and helpers this day, photos here are from kinigit44 on twitter!)

[swbumblebee]

What if Qui-Gon Jinn was not particularly special in his post-mortem abilities?

AKA “Old Ben” and his many Force parents.

They had all watched, their collective Force aura swamped in sadness, grief and longing, as Qui-Gon finally introduced himself to Obi-Wan.

They’d never call him ‘Old Ben’. The fact that he was only 40 years old notwithstanding, this was the boy they’d raised, grown up with, idolised. They remembered him toddling about the gardens, fascinated by the brightly coloured flowers; Getting shy around pretty people and developing awkward crushes. They remembered him standing alone at the head of an army, quietly confident and immeasurably capable. They had vivid memories of him carrying them back to the creche, so steady and strong; of his measured wisdom, and the confidence that Obi-Wan Kenobi would always triumph.

They remembered the mullet.

Nobody named “Old Ben” ever had a mullet.

The man they now, as they always had really, looked to for a light when everything else went dark.

They didn’t catch the murmured words. They were Jedi after all, (even if they were now technically one big Jedi rather than a temple full of Jedi) and eavesdropping was rude. Nobody listened to the sulky mutterings of the presence that was Quinlan Vos.

Their boy was nodding, sitting quietly on the floor whilst he finally, finally after weeks of careful and gentle persuasion, of them all keeping a tight rein on the order’s maverick (“Do not, we repeat do not, come out of the water tank. You’ll give him a cardiac arrest or something”) believed in the presence he saw before him.

They watched once more, pleased, as their missing piece allowed himself to be bullied to his feet, and guided over to the pile of blankets he called a bed.

They could feel Qui-Gon’s bitter relief as he perched next to his former student, his longing to pull the blankets up around his boy and smooth back his hair.

But words were all they had.

Still, as Obi-Wan Kenobi had shown the Galaxy; you could do a lot with words.

---

They’d argued (as much as an incorporeal fusion of spirits could argue) at length over who got to go next.

“I knew him longest, he’ll trust me!”

“He needs someone calm, measured. I will go”

“No offence Master Plo but you’ll make him cry. He needs cheering up, I’ll go!”

“Vos so help me Force-“

“I was the Master of the Order, I should do it”

“Master, we’re dead. I’m not sure seniority applies.”

In the end it was narrowed down to two options; Bant Erin, Obi-Wan’s oldest friend. Sweet natured and kind, she would be the perfect choice.

And Mace Windu.

It turns out seniority does still apply beyond the grave.

---

A small part of Obi-Wan’s subconscious was telling him that it was starting to get a bit awkward.

The transparent blue form of Mace Windu was looking down at him, the welcoming smile quickly turning into a grimace.

“…Obi-Wan?”

No. no no no this was not happening. He didn’t have time to go round the bend he had a child to protect!

He wasn’t sure if it was reasonable to measure sanity on the volume of dead loved ones he was hallucinating, but somehow one seemed saner than two.

Though it turns out he’s insane, and so not a good barometer of these things.

He knew his stare was starting to get very unnerving as his hysterical inner-ramblings reached a fever pitch.

“…Obi-Wan, are you alright?” Imaginary Mace Windu asked, concern and a tiny bit of nervousness showing on his face.

“I’m fine, how are you?” Obi-Wan asked, remembering a solid piece of advice from his formative years; Always fall back upon good manners when in unfamiliar territory Padawan mine.

Well, this was about as unfamiliar as it got.

Imaginary Mace looked at him, utterly baffled for a moment.

“Well…I’m dead, I suppose, is how I am” he answered awkwardly.

“Right. Obviously.” Obi-Wan nodded politely. “My condolences”

There was another awkward silence.

Imaginary Mace tilted his head for a moment, listening for something.

“Well…here I am” he said, spreading his arms a little.

“…yes.”

The other Jedi frowned at Obi-Wan’s strained reply and his act of scrubbing his hands down his face as if to wipe away the image in front of him.

“Qui-Gon didn’t…didn’t mention we were coming?” he asked tentatively.

Obi-Wan shook his head, wordlessly.

The frown on Imaginary Mace turned into a complete scowl as the pieces seemed to fall into place.

“JINN” he bellowed, and Obi-Wan felt it echo in the Force like nothing before.

“He can’t hear you, he’s with Yoda”

Another figure popped into existence next to Mace, and Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes once again as Depa Billaba bowed to him.

“Obi-Wan” she greeted with a grin.

“…hi” He took a deep breath, mentally cursing his absent-minded Master.

“Are you alright?” Depa didn’t stop for a reply as she looked down with him and gestured at him, gently instructing him to get up from the floor. “Oh look you’ve scraped your knee there! Master I knew you’d startle him!” she scolded her former Master.

It felt like he was having an out of body experience as Depa ushered him into a chair (the only chair in the hut), Mace looking on anxiously.

“There we go” Depa soothed as she got him settled “I wish we could make you some tea my friend.” She said disappointedly.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“You ah…you can’t?” he asked, something permeating the haze. Of this whole situation, that seemed by far the most unfair thing.

Mace smiled encouragingly, seemingly happier to be on more binary ground.

“I’m afraid not, we are beings of the Force, like your Master.” He explained, before scowling again. “Who, I would kill if he weren’t already dead,” he growled.

“I’m so sorry Obi-Wan” Depa said, dismayed “We all wanted to come and be with you, but we though Qui-Gon might be best to start with, so as not to overwhelm you”

“Sorry about that” Mace said apologetically.

They sat in silence a moment, Depa and Mace watching him process.

For the first time ever, Obi-Wan had exactly zero thoughts in his head.

He was starting to feel the pressure.

“All?” he tried.

Depa and Mace looked at each other.

“You ah…you said ‘all wanted to come’” he clarified.

Depa nodded happily.

“Yes yes, we’re all there Obi-Wan” she smiled at him

“Any Jedi slain by a Sith, or the machinations of the Sith, is there” Mace explained.

Obi-Wan was having the slightest bit of trouble taking deep breaths. Neither of his companions seemed to have noticed.

“Where?” he asked, only mildly aware that his voice was getting just a little pitchy.

“In the Force, we’re all one in the Force” Depa started again, and then paused a little lost for words.

“We’re all together and we kind of…share our presences” Mace picked up, with difficulty “Everyone who was killed by Palpatine’s evil, everyone from us right down to the littlest initiate, we share one consciousness in the Force.”

Obi-Wan was none the wiser.

Mace waved a hand frustratedly.

“Sorry, Plo explains it better”

“Plo?” Obi-Wan loved Master Plo. He loved all of them. And they were gone.

“Hello Obi-Wan”

“Well, if Plo and Depa get to see him I’m bloody well here too!”

“Hi Obi”

“Obes!”

He could only watch, speechless, as the faces of old friends, comrades, mentors and carers crammed into his hut, all looking at him with unadulterated, unfiltered pleasure and love was the last thing he saw before his scrambled brain decided it’d had enough, and he knew nothing but darkness.

---

It turns out, living with the forms of all your dead teachers, carers and friends was actually rather trying, after a while.

“Oh thank goodness you’re not still drinking that awful caff”

“I like caff – Master Plo please don’t try and lift that”

“Relax Obi dear, we’re incorporeal”

“Can still see things though”

“Vos get out of my fresher!”

“What does this do?”

“Never you mind. No don’t – Ugh. Why don’t some nice, well behaved padawans ever come to see me?”

“They’re not allowed, only those who knew you personally can visit. We thought it might get a bit stressful otherwise.”

“…I can’t imagine.”

Aside from having to adapt his busy routine to accommodate half a dozen fidgety and curious…ghosts (?) poking around his small hut at any one time, another unexpected addition to his (attempted) isolation on Tatooine was the nagging. And Force could they nag! The concentrated worry of many, many, beings with nowhere else to direct their extra energies was powerful.

“Obi-Wan you haven’t drank enough today. Go and check the vaporators”

“Padawan aren’t you going to eat?”

“Listen, that plie of cloth can’t be good for your spine”

“Force! Get some sun block Kenobi or you’re going to look like an old shoe in three months”

“No right, I saw a sunhat he can buy at the market”

It was…weird. He’d always been very self-sufficient, not to mention being the centre of everyone’s attention was difficult, to say the least. But as the months went on, he found himself transitioning from awkward acquiescence to see-sawing between mulishness and good-natured obedience. The stubbornness rising usually when the despair did. But those days were few and far between.

And now, when they did occur (for one can only avoid one’s demons for so long) and he felt like he was drowning in the weight of existence, he could rely on his friends for encouragement, care, and the motivation to carry on.

“If you join us before your time I will KILL you Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now kriffing well eat something!”

---

Of course, when their brother, friend, son, comrade, teacher and last hope did at last join them, there was no nagging or disappointment (or violence). The ultimate Jedi was back in the fold and they were once again complete.

[cordeliafoxxe]

✨SP Secret Santa✨

I hope you’ve had a wonderful holiday @goodeday2u !! I apologize that it’s a bit late, I had some technical difficulties. I haven’t written anything in a long time, but I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you ☺️

(Credit to @grilledcheeseandguavajelly for the gif. Hopefully you don’t mind xx)

It was Christmas morning, but the warm weather or New Orleans made it feel like anything but that. You spent the morning with your nose in books about concealment spells and weather, a plan brewing in your head. A few hours later you stumbled upon one that you think would do the trick and you made your way to Cordelia’s office. Tucking the spellbooks under your arm, you knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” you heard her say from inside. You gently opened the door to see your girlfriend sitting at her desk. Her glasses were perched on her nose as she busied herself with work. She hardly ever took a break from her Supremely duties. Even on Christmas when she should be relaxing (spending time with you, you thought) she still managed to find something to do. It was a quality you admired, her commitment to help as many young witches as she could, but you knew she deserved a break. 

She had been extra hard on herself lately, believing that the rise of the Antichrist was causing her powers to diminish. She tried her hardest to hide it from the other girls, but one night in particular she had stumbled on the stairs and Zoe had to rush to catch her. It was Zoe that suggested you ask Cordelia for help with a spell so she’d realize how powerful she still was. Plus it would get her out of the office and hopefully take her mind off of the threat from the warlocks. 

“Hey Delia,” you said.

She looked up. A smile spreading across her face as soon as she you. “Hi sweetheart.”

“So I want to surprise the girls with something for Christmas, but I don’t think my powers are strong enough on my own. Do you think you could help me?”

You carried the ancient textbooks to her desk and laid one down with a thud. You pointed to a section of the page that said circulus abscondito. Cordelia peered over the top of her glasses at the page. “And what do you intend on doing with that spell dear?” You carefully placed another book on top of the opened one. Cordelia’s eyes followed your hands as they trailed around, struggling to read from upside down. Her eyes scanned the page before settling on what you had been searching for. She placed her work aside on the desk and scooped up the books. 

“You had better bundle up sweet girl,” she said with a wink as she walked past you. Grinning, you rushed to follow her outside, grabbing your coat on the way.

--- 

You watched in awe as Cordelia finished casting a spell around the coven. “That should do it.” She had made it look so effortless. You were hardly surprised though; she was the Supreme after all. You took a minute to watch her. She was smiling slightly, happy at the new spell she accomplished, the sun turning her hair a brilliant gold. She looked like an angel. She turned her attention toward you, making you blush at being caught staring. 

“Okay, so this next part should be interesting,” you said. Cordelia came to stand next to you. Her knuckles grazed your side as she peered over your shoulder and studied the incantation. 

After a few minutes, she took the book from you and set it aside. “This spell will need both of our powers.” She took your hand softly. “Focus on the sky and repeat after me okay?” You nodded. 

“Frigidam aquam deducere,” she chanted. She furrowed her brows slightly and lifted her hands into the air. Following her lead you focused on the invisible water droplets in the atmosphere. 

“Frigidam aquam deducere.” You could feel the air begin to tingle as the two of you continued to chant, loosing focus momentarily as you admired Cordelia as she concentrated on casting the spell. Suddenly you noticed a flicker of white in front of your face, then another, and another. You stopped chanting and tipped your head back to look at the sky that was now filled with softly falling snowflakes. 

“We did it Delia!” You exclaimed as you turned to face her. She lowered her hands to clasp yours and pull you closer. 

“Oh my sweet girl, I knew we could.” She grinned and wrapped her arms around your waist. “You are more powerful than you think.”

“As are you, Miss Supreme,” you countered. Her fingers gripped your shirt for a split second as the doubt crept back into her mind. She hoped you hadn’t noticed, but you did. You had been together long enough for you to recognize the smallest of signs. The tears collecting in her eyes gave her emotions away. “You are the strongest person I know Delia. I know you might not feel like it right now, but there’s not another witch on this planet more fit to be in charge of this coven. I trust you with my life, and my heart. There’s no one else I’d rather have as my Supreme.”

The tears had escaped their prison and were trickling down her face. You lifted a hand and gently cupped her cheek, wiping a tear away with your thumb. 

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I don’t know, but you’re stuck with me,” you giggled leaning in to brush your nose against hers. Cordelia lifted a hand from your waist and threaded her fingers through the hair at the base of you neck. She tugged ever so softly and pulled you in to a kiss. You savored the warmth of Cordelia’s lips on yours: a stark contrast to the cold snowflakes that surrounded you. 

---

The girls were told that after breakfast together, they were to meet outside. 

“Honestly what’s the big surprise about?” Madison groaned as she walked down the stairs with a few of the other girls. “If it’s not the hot neighbor next door or a bottle of booze big enough to drown myself in, then I don’t want it.”

Coco playfully slapped her arm. “Come on Madison. Y/N and Cordelia spent a lot of time working on whatever it is. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

Madison opened her mouth, ready to comment that you and Cordelia probably spent a lot of time doing something else when she reached the back door and the words died in her throat. 

The entire backyard was blanketed in fresh snow. An igloo had been constructed (with the help of some magic) by the greenhouse, and lights were strung in the trees. 

You and Cordelia had been waiting outside for the girls to arrive. You were met by the excited squeals and cheers from the girls. Their reaction made you grin, looking at Cordelia triumphantly. You stood to the side watching as the young witches clambered around to find suitable outfits, others simply braving the cold. 

Mallory approached the two of you. “This is amazing, but won’t the neighbors see and come after us?” She was always worrying over something, never allowing herself to fully let go until she knew that she was safe to. 

“We enchanted the area around the whole coven,” Cordelia said. “From the outside, it looks like every other day here. Now go enjoy yourself. Coco looks like she needs a teammate.” You followed Cordelia’s gaze and burst out laughing when it landed on Coco being pelted with snow by some of the younger girls. Mallory quickly sped off to aid her friend. 

A snowball fight soon broke out and filled the air with hastily made projectiles. “You know Delia, not to toot my own horn or anything, but this was one of the best ideas I’ve had.” You grinned her way. She tucked a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. 

“The girls do seem to be enjoying themselves.” You held your breath as she leaned in to whisper in your ear. “And I must say, watching you perform that spell with me got me quite flustered baby girl. You obeyed me so well.” Despite the cold, heat rushed to your cheeks. Cordelia’s teeth tugged at your earlobe as she pulled away, a groan leaving your lips.

You were conducting a plan to tease Cordelia back when a giant snowball erupted on your shoulder. Turning around, you faced Zoe and Madison bent over with laughter. With a flick of your wrist the branches above their heads released the snow that they were holding, covering the pair from head to toe in the cold powder.

“I might have stumbled upon that spell earlier today too,” you said with a smirk toward Cordelia who was laughing softly. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Cordelia, don’t you dare,” you warned. She smirked and you knew there was no escaping, so you took off running with her hot on your heels. 

The pair of you ended up dominating the snowball fight for a few hours before the girls surrendered and decided it was time to go inside and exchange gifts. 

Cordelia had seemed to be in better spirits and not once did she feel her powers wane. You gazed at her by the fireplace from across the room. You weren’t sure if it was from spending time with her girls, but she was glowing. Her brown eyes met yours and she smiled softly. She retrieved a neatly wrapped package from under the tree and beckoned you over. 

“Merry Christmas darling,” she said. You admired the green wrapping for a moment. “To Y/N, Love Cordelia” was written delicately next to a stem from a white orchid. You peeled the tape off of the edges not wanting to destroy the beautiful gift. Inside was a velvet box. Your heart sped up with anticipation. A dainty silver bracelet studded with emeralds and diamonds lay inside. 

“It’s gorgeous Cordelia.” She picked up the bracelet and helped fasten it around your wrist. 

“Only the best for you darling. I love you so much Y/N,” she said reaching a hand up to cup your face. She leaned in for another kiss and you couldn’t imagine a better end to Christmas. 

“I love you too Delia.”

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic & Tails: Beyond the Stars - Chapter 6-7 Interlude

Complications

“Say Tails, didn't you upgrade the Tornado before we arrived in Viridonia?”

“...Oh yeah. I did, didn't I? Thanks for reminding me.”

Tails shuffled his hand from behind his back, and quickly pulled out a small device, to which everyone displayed varying levels of raised eyebrows in response to how exactly he managed to do that. With a simple press of a button, he patiently turned his attention to the sky, which still had not a single cloud to its visage.

Confused by this, Sonic slowly looked all around the arid landscape. “What are we waiting for? We gotta go get it, right? No point standing around if it's not-... ...oh, there it is.” The moment he looked back ahead, there was a look of wonder on his face, as the famous plane was right where it previously wasn’t mere seconds ago, floating in the air triumphantly. Its engines were roaring with life.

“That was... almost as fast as me. Almost.”

“That's awesome!” Amy cried out happily. She had an equally amazed Cream and Cheese tucked under her arms to prevent her friends’ small frames from being blown away by the sheer force generated by the Tornado.

“Not bad, indeed,” Rouge added, after using her own gift of flight to examine the plane from above. “Seems like quite a breakthrough, little guy.”

“Yep!” Tails beamed, his tails gliding up and down in sync with his visible excitement. “With a push of a button, I can summon it to wherever we are! So if we need it in short notice, it'll be no trouble at all.”

Sonic ruffled his young friend's head once again, grinning all the while. “That's my bro! No way this WON'T come in handy!” He paused, as he put a finger to his chin. “Could have been handy beforehand too, come to think of it...”

“Absolutely impeccable work, Tails,” Lutrudis applauded. “At least some of our greatest geniuses aren't foul in spirit.” She was evidently unperturbed by the force causing her ponytail to fly in her face more than once. She brushed it aside every time, and her smile didn’t falter.

“But will it have enough room for all of us? Though I suppose Miss Rouge will be unbothered...” She turned her head up at the flying bat, before her ponytail flew in her face yet again.

“Well, there's four seats now, so technically we'd be just one short. But...” The fox motioned towards the wing. “That hasn't stopped Sonic before... even when there are seats available.”

“True,” Sonic confirmed, with another trademark smirk. “Now let's get out of here, I'm sweating like an Eggman who's about to be foiled.”

“...Me too,” Lutrudis agreed as she fluttered a hand to fan herself, unable to come up with a clever comparison of her own. Amy was likewise quick to nod in agreement.

---

After returning to the castle, and after a couple of showers the moment they returned, Lutrudis directed the gang to the kitchen. But not before two members of the group were finally given their gifts, after Lutrudis made sure to clean those as well...

“~It’s so beautiful!~” Amy’s line of sight was hyper focused on her new silver necklace, its emerald jewel matching the girl’s eyes perfectly. Cream was likewise enticed by her own necklace, and its garnet jewel was a similar match for the bunny’s own eyes. The two of them couldn’t have been any more over the moon with their gifts, with Amy practically dancing in giddy ecstasy. “I can’t get over how it looks!”

“Thank you so much for this, Trudy!” Cream shimmered brightly.

“But wouldn’t they have cost a lot?” Amy wondered. “I wouldn’t want you to burn a hole in your wallet for our sake...”

“It’s cool,” Lutrudis waved a hand, her tail swishing happily in response to seeing her fellow companions’ joy. “I couldn’t resist seeing the looks on your faces. And honestly, the price was nothing compared to the real difficulty of washing away the stench of oil,” she joked.

Although the visitors (except Rouge) should have been long used to the shifts between the rooms in the castle by this point, they still found themselves caught off guard by the kitchen’s unique appearance. Far from the reds of the halls, the blues of the bathroom, or the whites of the greenhouse, the kitchen’s primary colours were brown and black, and yet it was not drab in the slightest. With its warm shades, and combined with the wooden floor and the brick walls, it almost gave the impression of a country aesthetic, even though no such aesthetic was truly present in any obvious form.

They remained impressed with how the castle was able to maintain an overarching sense of comfort and beauty, despite each room being different in its own way, sometimes vastly so. Rouge also couldn’t help but wonder to herself if any of those pretty crystals were nearby... for reasons, of course. But alas, they had more important things to attend to. Namely, Rouge’s reports about them.

“So then,” Sonic started. “What did you find out about them?”

“Well if you spare me just a little minute... ah, here they are.” Rouge pulled out a small handful of documents from behind her back, and casually tossed them onto the biggest table in the kitchen. “There you have them. Knock yourself out.”

“Are we... allowed to read these documents?” Lutrudis questioned, after showing hesitance to do so. “Since it is G.U.N. work and all, they might get ever so slightly incensed that you’re sharing such documents with little old us...”

Rouge placed her hands on her hips, unfazed as ever. “They don’t have to know. It’ll be our little secret.” A smirk planted itself on her lips. “Besides, since Sonic is the one who actually saves the world from all the things that threaten it, it’s more useful in your hands anyway, let’s be honest.”

Lutrudis looked at Sonic, who himself turned to Tails, who then turned to Amy, who likewise turned to Cream, and she looked at Cheese, to which he looked back at Lutrudis.

“Chao...?” Cheese asked.

After a pause, they all shrugged, unanimously finding no reason to debate with the bat. And with that, they got right down to business. Predictably, Sonic was quick to skim through them, and at first, he seemed somewhat unimpressed with what he was reading.

“These... aren’t telling me anything we don’t already know,” he complained. “Different abilities depending on the colour, grey crystals are less effective than colored ones, stronger reactions when more of the same colour are used together... We know all this...”

“Keep reading,” Rouge commanded firmly. “There’s bound to be something.”

“Fine, will do...”

“Actually Sonic... I don’t remember THIS part,” Amy noted, as she quickly brought the file she was reading over to Sonic. “It says here that with the right amount of Chao and crystals present, they can directly open the way to the Ethereal Zone...?”

“Really?” Tails asked. “I... guess that’s not a conclusion without merit, but for all of Eggman’s antics, I thought it’d be more complicated than that?”

“It is, in a sense,” Rouge answered. She walked over to a nearby chair to lean against. “The Chao and crystals can open the way, yes, but you need a lot of them to do it. A lot of them. And not just a lot of them, but in the case of crystals, a lot of every individual type.”

“So more crystals than I have, then?” Lutrudis pondered, with a stroke of her hair. “But... they aren’t finite, they can respawn. Does it not count if it’s a... erm, replacement crystal?”

“Since they’re no less effective, logic would dictate that they would count. But doing it that way would likely take forever, especially if you’re as impatient as Dr. Eggman. Not to mention he’s already hunting after the Chao as well anyway. So he’s probably just finding crystals anywhere and everywhere he can for the sake of it being faster.”

“How many exactly?” Sonic asked. For all his comments at Eggman’s expense, he knew the doctor having access to so many of them would be no joke.

“More than any of us have seen so far. You’d practically need a mountain of them.”

“Sheesh... But where would Eggman be able to find such an amount? We’ve seen multiple spots with plenty of them, like the cave under here, but not to the level of what you’re describing...”

“Hold up,” Tails said, as he pointed to a particular section of the file he was reading. “There are people who live in the Ethereal Zone...? Or lived, past tense?”

Sonic’s ears stood up. “Okay, fair play, I DEFINITELY don’t recall that part. How did you find that out? Have you been there or something?” he asked half-sarcastically.

“Do you really think all those fancy murals and paintings around here are just a coincidence?” Rouge pointed out, in a playful tone with a wagging finger.

“Murals? Paintings? What are you...” He stopped, as he slowly recalled a number of recent occurrences. “You mean... like the ones in the desert town...”

“Or those carvings in Zephyr Mountain...” Tails recalled.

“And the ones by the meadows...” Lutrudis added. “Every one of them includes people in their visuals...”

“And those aren’t the only ones,” Rouge confirmed. “The Ethereal Zone may be little more than a myth to most people on this island, but the legends have always had an influence in their lives and culture.”

“And their buildings, considering some of them are prone to glowing,” Sonic dryly quipped. “You’d think that would be enough to confirm it’s real.”

“So is that gross monster who works for Eggman one of the people... or things... that live in there?” Amy asked, understandably puzzled to say the least. “It wouldn’t be involved in Eggman’s schemes for nothing, right?”

“Oh, so we DO have another Chaos on our hands?” Sonic continued, hands on hips. “These beats are sounding more and more like Chaos to me... minus the whole mystery world dimension thingymajig part, I guess. Right down to involving the Chao...” As if on cue, his attention was focused on a lone playful Chao swinging from his arm, which he soon tried to prevent from falling off.

“At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Wraith was a mutated Chao too,” he added, still focused on the thankfully unmutated Chao.

“I doubt that, but this is where it gets weird...”

“As opposed to everything else about this, which is perfectly normal...?”

Rouge rolled her eyes as she continued. “If it was someone or something that belonged inside the Ethereal Zone... then what’s it doing out of the Zone, if Eggman still hasn’t unlocked it for himself? Did it get out by itself, and if so, how did it do it? And furthermore, if this one managed to get out, how come we’ve seen no others like it?”

She sighed to herself, with a clenched fist. “Not even the A.R.K. reports were this complicated. At least with that one, the biggest hurdle was going to space.”

Everyone went silent. Though Rouge’s documents were definitely giving them more to work with, there were still some unsolved mysteries even now, and as far as they knew, Eggman was still in no rush to clue them in on the rest of the details. As they all quietly thought about where to go from here, Cream was the one who broke the silence.

“You’re really good at finding out things, Miss Rouge,” the rabbit said cheerfully, despite not fully understanding the documents to the same extent as her older friends. Rouge seemed to be caught off guard by the sudden compliment, but even she couldn’t help but smile at Cream’s innocence.

---

Since they still hadn’t decided on what their next course of action would be, everyone took the time to split up for a short while. Rouge offered to search around Lime Shores to see if she could uncover new info, and Amy demanded to go with her, possibly out of wariness as to whether the jewel hunter slash government agent was up to anything shady. Rouge didn’t even bother arguing with it, knowing full well that Amy’s stubbornness was comparable to that of the Blue Blur himself... or the Black Blur that she was even more familiar with. Must be a hedgehog thing.

Cream wasn’t sure if leaving Amy and Rouge to themselves was a good idea or not, considering she had some vague awareness of their past history with each other. But she decided to stick with Lutrudis despite that, confident that her older sister figure and the bat lady would be able to set any potential disagreements aside for now. The rest of the Chao were following them, as Lutrudis promised to take the diminutive creatures to somewhere special. As they were walking through the castle hallway however, with the rabbit holding the horse’s hand, something seemed to be troubling her...

“Trudy?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I confess to something?”

“Confess?” Lutrudis couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle. “As if you would ever need to confess to anything. But sure, you can tell me whatever you’re comfortable with telling.”

“I’m worried about what Dr. Eggman might do next...”

“Eggman?” The horse stopped in her tracks, and she made sure to kneel down to Cream’s height, albeit slowly so as to not put too much strain on her legs. “What’s he done to get you all concerned?”

“Well... all that stuff that happened in the desert. Those monsters that came to life...” Cream tugged on her left ear, looking to the side with minor anxiousness. “And the big ship that created the big hurricane...” She shuddered at the memory, holding tightly onto Cheese.

“Chao...!” Cheese muttered, slightly dismayed at temporarily being unable to breathe.

“Dr. Eggman does a lot of bad things, and I wish he would stop. But he’s doing really scary things now... What will happen next? And what does he want to do with all these Chao?” She was quick to turn her gaze to Lutrudis’ eyes, having once again seeked out the resemblance to that of her own mother’s.

Lutrudis glanced around at all the Chao floating above them. They exchanged various looks of concern, yet she simply smiled at every one of them, as if to ease their individual tensions. She turned that sympathetic smile to Cream, and gently stroked her cheek. “But we know what he’ll do next, sweetie... He’ll be ranting incoherently and screaming filthy words after we strike a blow to his overstuffed ego.” She followed it up with a wink, as Cream giggled at her comment. “Nothing Eggman has done has stopped you or your friends before, and that won’t change now.”

“I guess you’re right, heh,” Cream admitted, with a nervous smile. “I know it’s silly to be afraid, but...”

“Hey, don’t say that, there’s nothing silly about it at all.” She put both of her hands on the rabbit’s shoulders. “There’s no shame in feeling afraid, it happens to all of us. And heck, after everything you’ve been through, I’d dare say you’re brave where it truly counts.”

“Really?”

“Chao?”

“Would I lie to you?”

“...No, you wouldn’t,” Cream’s smile grew less nervous, as she nuzzled up against the horse’s chest to hug her. Lutrudis, still evidently not used to receiving them, took a moment or two to react, but slowly wrapped her arms around the bunny in turn, and rubbed the little one’s back. Her tail started swishing again.

“In fact... how about we do a little something to commemorate your previous, brave adventures?”

“Huh?” Cream gave her an inquisitive look. “What do you mean?”

“Well you see, you wouldn’t believe it coming from these hands, but I know a thing or two about knitting...”

---

“I’m still not used to Eggman being this hush hush...” Tails muttered, as he and Sonic took the time to have a calming walk outside. Though they were now accustomed to hanging around the castle, the size of its walls still amazed them greatly, and if they hadn’t been discussing Eggman affairs, the tranquility of the forest would have lowered their guards completely.

“Me neither,” Sonic agreed, as he took a swig of his fresh can of Chaos Cola. If he wasn’t already aware that Trudy was hospitable, he was very grateful for the contents in her fridge. “The doc would usually be the FIRST to tell us about his plan.”

“He even sent us a letter one time.”

“Well, that wasn’t actually him, but...” He brushed the correction aside, figuring it wasn’t important, since it’s still something he’d probably do. He made sure to cherish the therapuetic sunshine that was seeping through the greenery. “He’s never been shy about what he’s up to. Even when he’s tried to be more secretive, he could never resist giving it all away. But this time... even with his hints, we have incomplete info... Like that Wraith! We know it’s evil, works for Eggman, may or may not hail from the Ethereal Zone... MIGHT be another mutated Chao...?”

“He said all the stuff he’s been doing lately is connected,” Tails remembered, as he rubbed his chin intently. He took a moment to admire the pristine condition of the lake nearby. “But... how? So much of it feels so disconnected. He wants more Chao and crystals, that part’s easy to understand, but how does all the rest factor into it? And why has he made the Wraith part of it?”

“I bet he’s laughing it up right now,” Sonic grumbled out of irritation, with the frown to match. “Probably thinks we’re dummies for not knowing every last oh so brilliant detail of his convoluted spider web.”

“But we will get to the bottom of it, right?” Tails suggested with a hint of hope. “Don’t forget, we’re not on our own here. We don’t know where the Chaotix ended up, but we’ve still got detectives on our side. AND Rouge is a G.U.N. agent!”

“One of the only competent ones...” Sonic murmured to himself.

Tails was about to counter the hedgehog’s dismissive statement, but he stopped himself, with his body language indicating he actually agreed deep down, if reluctantly. “G.U.N. or no G.U.N, Rouge is still really smart, isn’t she? And... I know she’s been kinda sneaky a couple of times in the past, but I think we can trust her now.”

“Yeah, cause neither of us are Knuckles. We don’t guard a Master Emerald, so we have nothing to worry about.” Sonic chuckled out loud. “Just hope she and Amy stay out of each other’s hair for long enough, after what happened with Emerl...”

“Huh? Did something happen between them?”

“Eh, it was ages ago, maybe they made up since then.” He followed it up with another chuckle. “Maybe they were fighting over me,” he joked.

“.........”

Tails promptly went quiet, as if he were reminded of something from the back of his mind at that exact moment. He glanced smoothly in Sonic’s direction, attempting to maintain a relaxed disposition. Sonic didn’t seem to notice anything suspicious.

The silence continued. It seemed there was no reason for the peace to be interrupted, certainly not with the gorgeous view they were still fortunate to witness as they carried on walking together. But the moment Sonic took another sip of his Chaos Cola, the younger of the two decided to ask just one tiny, innocent question...

“So do you have a thing for Trudy?”

He almost felt guilty for causing Sonic to nearly choke on his drink, but not enough to hide the growing smirk on his face upon witnessing his friend’s abrupt change in behaviour. After taking a few seconds to cease the resulting coughing fit, and compose himself, Sonic calmly turned to Tails, an admirably constructed demeanour that was nonetheless betrayed instantly by his spines shooting up in defiance.

“Sorry, what?”

“I mean, y’know, I was just thinking that... maybe... from what I’ve observed... you might just be... possibly developing... a teensy weensy little... thiiiiiing...” The fox shuffled his eyebrows, complete with vague hand motions. “Foooorrrrrr...” He proceeded to subtly mimic a galloping horse.

Sonic blinked, and stayed silent for a couple of seconds, though it sure didn’t feel like just a couple of seconds. After an uneasy pause, another small chuckle eventually emerged from his mouth, and this time it was followed by a brief period of mocking laughter. Most people wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but Tails knew his buddy well, and he could spot the fakeness of his laugh from a mile away.

“Me? Seriously?” Sonic shook his head to dismiss the claim, though if one examined closer, it seemed to be more for his own sake than that of his friend. “You really think I’d be that kind of guy?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it...”

“Yeah, I know there isn’t, but... c’mon, it’s me we’re talking about! Can you imagine me in a situation like that? It’d be a laugh riot, wouldn’t it? Just wouldn’t work out.”

“Why not?”

“Too stuck in my ways, aren’t I?” Sonic shrugged casually, before he glanced at the inviting scenery once more. The desert may have looked nicer than most of its kind, but the fresh air was greatly preferable to him. He gazed at the leaves flowing freely through the calm breeze, and although he brought no attention to it, it was clear that he found it a convenient metaphor for the current subject.

“Settling down just isn’t me,” he continued. “And it never will be. I’d never give up my life, even in my old age.”

“Do you need to settle down, though?” Tails mused out loud. “No one ever said there’s only one way for these things to work out.”

The hedgehog almost seemed to ponder his friend’s words for a fleeting moment, and slowly appeared to be lost in thought. But, as if sensing he was lured into a false sense of security, he quickly shook his head again, freeing himself of the apparent curse that Tails had placed upon him... So he thought.

“Well anyway, the point is, that’s not what’s going on. You know I get chummy with people pretty quickly, even when they tried to kill me before the fact! And sure, Trudy may be cute, but-”

“~Oh, you think so?~”

Sonic’s eyes froze, and the barely concealed grin directed at him was not helping one bit.

“COMPLIMENTING A FRIEND ISN’T A CRIME!” He cried out defensively, and closed his eyes tightly. After taking a moment to breathe, he calmed himself down, and raised a pointed finger.

“...Nothing’s happening. Nothing’s happening. Just getting on with another friend is all.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all, yes.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Absolutely sure?”

“...Are you... wanting something to happen?”

“No no,” Tails raised his hands, though his grin hadn’t quite fully disappeared. “I believe you,” he claimed, in a tone that implied a complete and utter lack of authenticity to that claim. “Just wanted to know what was happening.”

“Well, nothing’s happening,” Sonic reaffirmed bluntly, though a smirk was beginning to form on his own face as well. Even he had to admit the banter was entertaining, and considering who Tails had lived with for most of his life, it’s not like this mischievous side of him developed from nowhere. “So there you have it. Straight from the horse’s mouth.”

Tails immediately burst out laughing, only refraining from laughing harder in order to not attract attention from anyone who could be hearing. Sonic’s initial confusion very quickly switched to annoyance with himself, as he smacked his forehead upon realising his choice of speech. He pointed another finger to prevent any further commentary, to which Tails simply raised his hands again, and mimicked the act of zipping his mouth.

His amusement still refused to actually vanish.

---

Back to Chapter 6...

[walker-journal]

Seeking Sanctuary (Bex + Adam)

Participants: Bexley Ochsenstein (Spellcaster by Envy), Adam Walker (Hunter by Tapir)

Context: Two very unlike people encounter each other at the temple, and voice mutual doubts in a discussion about the nature of faith and identity. 

Content Warnings: Religious Idealization, Discussions of Sexism and Transphobia (civil discussion), Mentions of post-traumatic stress and military conflict

Faith for Adam was a complicated subject. You’d think that knowing for certain that demons, life after death, magic, and souls existing would make faith easy. Adam technically knew the answers to alot of questions your average believer struggled with. There was no dread mystique to supernatural evil when your parents had taught you which tentaclely organs the laser beams came from. But that was exactly the problem.

Adam had grown up with Hell and all your worst nightmares simply being objective fact, an everyday reality that needed to be fought with tactics, technology, and sacrifice.

But although Adam was well acquainted with the forces of darkness, the supposed other side of the equation was very noticeably absent. Where was the Light in all of this? 

Being a practical dude, Adam would’ve normally just dismissed tangential stuff that didn’t help you in the trenches, as Dad had...except...Adam had also warded off plenty of spooks with sacred symbols and watched with his own eyes as holy water burned undead killing machines to sterile dust.

What was the creator smoking? Fuck if Adam knew.

Adam turned his gaze from absently contemplating The Ark whose displayed scriptural scrolls dominated the front of the synagogue. There weren’t alot of people here today, but Adam found a familiar face in the pews nonetheless.

“How goes it Odelia?”

Prayer was something Bexley had never really gotten the hang of. She knew all the prayers to recite during Yom Kippur and Passover. She had memorized the passages for her bat mitzvah, and she had memorized enough to get through Temple. But when it came to personal prayer, when it came to sitting in Temple alone and staring up at the alter and around the pews, Bexley had no idea what to do. She hadn’t figured it out in her twenty years of life, the disconnect from her faith a struggle. It was something her parents had noticed, but never pointed out, because Bexley tried-- oh did she try-- to connect with the world the way she knew they wanted her to. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want to or couldn’t, but, rather, that she felt so outside of it.

She was not born in the right body. Though the Torah made no mentions of people like her, the bittersweetness of it still tunneled her vision of it. How was she supposed to connect with something that wanted to pretend she didn’t exist?

But she wasn’t here today about that part of her. She was here today about the part of her that kept exploding things. Breaking them. Nell’s pot still sat heavy on her mind. It was a ridiculous thing to be kneeling in a pew about, but here she was. She wanted whatever it was to stop. She wanted to have some sort of control over it. She was practically begging for the help when a voice cut through her mind.

“Adam?” She turned to look over at him, startled slightly. “I-- sorry. What’re you doing here? N-not that you can’t be here! I just...you don’t really seem the type to just...come to temple... “

Adam was generally inclined to agree with that assessment. Between dating a woman who had a Beanie Baby collection of demons and committing more degrees of murder than existed in any legal code, the Hunter was pretty sure Bex was being overgenerous with his being allowed in here.

“Last night’s DIE party was the kind you need to get sanctified after,” Adam asserted as he plopped down unceremoniously in the pew in front of Bex. “You should come sometime.” he wheedled playfully. “Make sure you have plenty to repent for on Saturday.”

But after a moment Adam paused, the mischief of flirting with a lawyer-dude’s girlfriend fading. Dark brown eyes looked over Bex again, this time without lewdness or jest.

“How’re you holding up Bex,” Adam asked quietly with more intentionality than the previous address.

As Bex looked at Adam, she tried to pinpoint exactly what it was that Nell saw in him. Maybe it was something she couldn’t see, because all she saw was a rather lewd frat boy, who sometimes had that far away sad look in his eyes. Maybe that was really just the persona he wanted others to see-- Bex could relate to that. The happy, chipper girl she pretended to be in public for her parents wasn’t who she was at all, and her being here right now sort of proved that. She had to look away from him, furrowing her brow and smoothing her palms down the front of her dress. She always tried to look nice when coming to Temple.

“I don’t think those kinds of parties are really my style,” she answered quietly. Took a moment to look around to make sure there wasn’t anyone too familiar in here with them. But it was relatively empty today, with only a few people milling about and the Rabbi making rounds before disappearing back into his office. Her eyes settled back on Adam and he had that sad look again. He even used her right name.

“I’m fine,” she said curtly, “just...getting used to being back in White Crest. Kind of a whole different world out there than it is here, you know?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s the real reason you’re here, Adam? Repentance also doesn’t seem up your alley.”

While Adam had been trained to deceive and achieve invisibility by fulfilling others assumptions, he wasn’t so far gone that Bex’s directness couldn’t still get a rise from him. Adam blinked and his face became briefly uncertain, as if the Hunter had flubbed a line in a script and broken character in front of an audience of one. “I’ve gotten in over my head,” the murderer admitted after a time.

“I’ve been trying to just tough it out,” the Hunter continued, referring to the abuse and torments of a demonic cult in the tone someone else might’ve used for minor health difficulties. “But I’ve running on fumes for so long now that like...eventually you’ve got nothing left. No more second winds, no just pushing on through,” the athlete explained.

“I’ve never like been close to really hitting that wall one other time before,” admitted Adam in memory of when his power and faith had shattered on Lyssa’s peak. “I’m uh, not liking my chances here.”

Adam encompassed the synagogue’s interior with a vague sweeping gesture that implied that perhaps the soldier wasn’t so much seeking redemption as reaching anything to keep from plummeting off a cliff.

“Do you prefer the world out there Bex?”

Bex looked at Adam and listened to his words. Whatever he was going through, it seemed rough on him, like it was wearing him down. Sands blasting down his walls and carving them away, smoothing them away. Eventually, they would become nothing. Just like hers. She felt a pull at her heart and she had to look away to not totally give up her shiny exterior. Cleared her throat and rubbed her eyes.

“Don’t you have like, people to help you?” she asked. “You know you don’t have to go it alone. That’s sorta the point of community.” She gestured to the area around them. There were so many other people he could’ve gone to bother, why did he have to choose her? Still, a sense of curiosity pulled at her. And empathy. She knew what it felt like to be at the end of your rope. Her hands wrung together.

“What, um-- what happened? If you don’t mind me asking. Are you okay?” Was he dying? Did Nell know? She paused at his question. “I...prefer the world that I know I can interact with. It’s easy to...pretend to be something there.”

“There is someone helping me”, Adam admitted, “and I’m thankful I’ve got her help on this, but uh... “ The Hunter ran a hand across the back of his neck. “That’s kinna the problem y’know? Worried I’m just going to drag her down with me.”

Bex seemed to genuinely inquire about his welfare, which was kinna touching. As always, Adam had to weigh the difference between the necessary lies and giving the other people enough of the truth as he could. “There is a group in town that I think are into some really dangerous stuff,” was definitely a criminal level of understatement. “But I need evidence and to catch them in the act to make a citizen’s arrest,” Adam concluded. It was technically a lie, but as closest to the spirit of the truth as he could manage without going straight into Twilight Zone territory.

It was dangerous to say out loud. But as much as Adam hated to admit it, against an adversary like Ma’al these hallowed walls were probably studier than any military bunker.

“Why do you wanna pretend Bex? What makes this place hard to interact with,” Adam asked slowly, kinna intuiting what she might mean in his gut, but not wanting to jump to conclusions here.

“Is it Nell?” Bex asked, blurting the words before she could stop them. She paused, recoiled and bit the inside of her cheek. “Sorry. Not to sound weird, but I met Nell on campus and then we got talking and she sort of told me about you guys.” She burned to ask Adam if he knew that his girlfriend claimed to be a witch, and wondered what his faith-- their faith-- would have to say about that. She wondered a lot of things about Adam, actually, and Nell was one of those things.

“I think...if she didn’t want to be helping, she would say so. I think worrying about that is pointless.” Not that Bex knew Nell super well, but from what she’d seen of her, Nell didn’t seem the sort to do something out of obligation. She shifted, and leaned back.

“Whatever you’re up to, it sounds illegal and dangerous, and I’m studying law, so maybe don’t tell me what you’re doing,” she pointed out quietly, giving another wary glance around. She scratched her knees awkwardly.

“That’s...complicated, I guess,” she mumbled, furrowing her brows. “I want to pretend because...maybe one day I can’t stop pretending and it’ll be real. I know this might seem strange, Adam, but the world isn’t kind to people like me. Out there, in here--” she gestured around them, “it’s all kind of the same.”

“Oh,” Adam mouthed, feeling like a dumbass. Adam was typically immune to embarrassment or society anxiety, one of those side benefits of being conditioned to ignore fear and pain that might trouble therapists. Normally Adam would only grin and make lewd implications at the prospect of women talking in private about him. It’d never bothered him before, but for some reason the thought of Nell specifically doing so brought on a precarious uncertainty. “Yeah you’re right, I know you're right,” Adam repeated, “but still…” Knowing something doesn’t mean it can’t fuck you head anyway.

“Don’t you think we need to do illegal and dangerous stuff sometimes?” pointed out the vigilante.

Adam watched Bex’s face as she explained, his expression softened by a touch of awkward compassion but not comprehension. “Look I uh...can’t pretend to know what it's like,” he admitted. “This world is pretty dickish to women and I’m definitely not innocent of that, but there’s gotta be somewhere, or somebody, that can feel like a safe place y’know?”

“But still...what?” Bex prodded. She didn’t mean to pry, but she was curious by nature. And she began to develop a sort of friendship with Nell, so concern wrought itself through her face as she watched Adam. He always seemed so typical, but for some reason, up close like this with him, he seemed somewhat...different. There was something mysterious about him, about the way he talked. The things he hinted at. The casualness of his attitude, and the ruffling of his brow at the mention of Nell. Bex looked back down.

“No, I don’t,” Bex said, repeating the mantra in her head that her parents always told her. Be good, be polite, be strong. She tried her best to follow those, but she didn’t get them all the time. “My family is pretty strict about that stuff.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle hollowly. “I was kinda hoping that’s what I’d find here,” she admitted quietly, “but no one ever answers me.”

Adam let out a long exhale between his lips as he tried to scrape together some words to describe a gut feeling. Visceral stuff didn’t tend to lend itself to explanation very well, but here goes: “I’ve mostly ever done casual relationships,” Adam began. “I can’t do halfway stuff like...I’m not wired that way,” admitted the young fanatic. “Either it’s just a fuck.” Adam put a hand on one side of the pew’s back. “Or you care enough about them to give up everything,” Adam’s hand shifted to the other side of pew, perhaps indicating that the Hunter’s conception of intimacy was either a roll in the sheets or devotion to the point of self-sacrifice.

“Nell and I are trying something new for both of us,” Adam posited,”I care about her, but also don’t want to go so all in we can’t find a way out,” the Hunter said, perhaps talking about two things at once. “But as I said, not so great at halfway.”

Bex’s desolate mirth at divine silence gave Adam pause. His dark brown eyes flicked up to the synagogue's arched ceiling, as if checking to see if any angels happened to be fluttering about the eves.

“When I was on tour in Saudi Arabia,” the young soldier began after a while, eyes still contemplating the interlacing triangle mosaics. “One of my squaddies was this dude named Hasan. I was a dumass...ok dumbasser.. teenager and didn’t know shit about Islam and my Arabic was terrible,” Adam continued. “But like, we were on patrol together alot so we talked about stuff. One day we were looking at this camp full of bodies all ripped apart and shit,” the Hunter continued with conversational casualness, neglecting to mention that he and Hasan were not patrolling the wastelands against their fellow men.

“Hasan prayed over them before we bared what was left and I asked him later how he could possibly feel close to God out here, with all the blood and fucking torn up meat all over the sand. I was kinna messed up and lost my cool,” the Hunter confessed numbly, as if assuming that Bex would rightly judge him for this unacceptable lapse of composure on the battlefield. “Hasan just said that even here, even in this, Allah is not absent, We are no farther from his presence, evil is just distracting us from it.”

Adam’s lips creased into a rueful smile, “we talked more after that, he told me about this sage Rabia who was like this zero-wave feminist who went into the desert to chill with God and do survivalism.” The Hunter’s tone indicated that he himself might have considered going full wilderness anarchist on multiple occasions. “She was super smart and kind to the people who went out there to learn from her, unless they were offering marriage in which case she told them to fuck off,”

Scholars might’ve contested this summary, but Adam had learned about Sufi mysticism from Hasan in between filling hordes of Alghouls full of silver buckshot, so perhaps parsimony was forgivable.  

“Anyway, Rabia’s whole deal I guess was that she found that like..mosques, patriarchy, the state and all that shit pulled her farther away from God,” Adam continued in the manner of someone who’d emotionally connected with what his brother in arms had described, even if neither of the young warriors really had a handle on the deeper theology. “Love was where she felt God. Love for herself, love even for the sand and all the scorpions, the joy of just being alive.”

Adam’s eyes finally left the ceiling and found Bex’s face. The young man scratched his temple in a sudden fit of bashfulness in the wake of reminiscence. “Ok uh, I dunno where I was going with that but...I’m shit at this...but I guess uh.. like ...maybe a temple is wherever you feel closer to God, even if that's a desert or even just a state of mind.”

“I’m still trying to find my temple,” the fallen Hunter admitted.

As Adam talked, Bex listened. Really listened. She’d had no idea he was a soldier, or that he’d been on tour. She’d gone to Jerusalem once with her parents, and her mother had looked down at her and told her to be on her best behavior, because she was already wrong for being in the temple of their God. She remembered the harsh look her father had given her as they’d entered and she was wearing a dress and her favorite shoes and he’d scoffed. Maybe that was where her disconnect had spawned from.

Adam’s story broke her heart a little.

Bex couldn’t even imagine the pain of seeing so much carnage. Her sheltered life had let her grow up in relative peace. Death was not a part of her life. Shame was, though. Shame and guilt. She could relate to him on those things, even if it pained her to admit that.

“I’m sorry, Adam,” she finally said quietly, “that you went through all that.” She’d judged him preemptively, but he was perhaps suffering more than most anyone else in this Temple. “You know, for a frat guy, you’re pretty wise,” seh tacked on quietly with a tease. Perhaps now she could see why Nell liked him so much.

“I don’t know Nell that well yet, but it sounds like you really care about her. I definitely can’t give relationship advice, I’ve never even been in a real one--” she gave pause, stuttering over her words. Frank, her current “boyfriend” was a cover, and she’d just given that up, “--until now! But...what I’m trying to say is, I think it’s okay to not know. I think figuring it out together is kinda like...the point, you know? Of being with someone like that. Of trying new things.” Things she only wished she could try, could have. He was looking at her with those bashful, knowing eyes and she had to look away.

“This place scares me,” she admitted quietly, “White Crest.” She rubbed her arm, pulling into herself. “My parents always kept me so locked away, even when I lived here. And now I’ve been back for almost two months and already I feel like this place is trying to change me, take me away from the person I’m supposed to be.” She looked up at the ceiling, mirroring his movements from moments ago. “I guess I just wanted answers.” The ceiling told her nothing, and she looked down to meet his eyes again.

“You and me both, then,” she answered his last statement, the same sort of broken admittance ringing in her voice, “Guess we’ll just have to keep searching, huh?” Because there had to be something better than this, for both of them.

Adam stared at Bex for a moment at her condolence, stunned, as if genuinely not understanding why a story of battlefield carnage had elicited that reaction.

“Well uh,” a red blush crept up Adam’s neck as if Bex’s compassion had unmanned him more then any debauchery or public streaking ever had. “It’s not ...I didn’t mean it like..” the Hunter insisted as if associating the long war with suffering was something unthinkable. Perhaps it was even literally unthinkable, an emotional descent Adam didn’t think he could survive.

“It’s an honor to serve,” Adam insisted quietly. Even disgraced, powerless, and at the edge breaking, the Hunter couldn’t abandon what was killing him.

“You’re pretty understanding for a church girl,” Adam answered back to the praise he didn’t deserve, the crease at the edge of his soft smile hinting at a deeper more serious compliment underneath the playful plaudit.

If Adam intuited something off about how abruptly and awkwardly Frank entered and left the conversation, he kept his peace.

There were things Adam wished he could tell Bex about White Crest, about why her fears were valid and his gut feeling that this city was in a liminal space between Earth and the fathomless unknown. But preserving supernatural secrecy was one of the sacred charges his ancestors had passed down, and Adam couldn’t bring himself to break it even when it seemed they’d abandoned him.

Besides, Bex seemed worried about White Crest killing her spiritually, while Adam had his hands full trying to prevent much more literal death in vamp infested graveyards.

“Yeah guess so…” Adam stood as if he were about to go, but paused, mulling over Bex’s words again. Locked up? Take her away from who she was meant to be? Aw shit. Uneasy vibes compelled Adam to speak even when his brain warned he should stay the hell outta this. “Hey Bex, like if its ever too much,” he began slowly, “I know people you stay with. On the other side of the country, or the Holy Land even.” Mom never turned away guests in need...well, human ones.

“Sorry if that’s pushy,” Adam ameliorated, “and you can tell me to fuck off. But like...offer open.”

His embarrassment was almost immediate and Bex couldn’t help but roll her eyes a little. He might’ve had a seeming heart of gold, but he still tried to apply certain standards of masculinity to himself. She supposed some things would never really change. Still, it didn’t discredit anything else he’d said, or that he’d done. “Well I did,” she answered, “mean it like that.”

At that, Bex snorted. “Church girl?” she chuckled, shaking her head. “Seriously? That’s what you think of me? Geez, I kinda hate that. Maybe I was right before, pretending I could solve my problems myself instead of coming here.” She was mostly teasing, but there was some truth to it. She hadn’t entirely found her purpose or sense of self within her faith yet, even as hard as she’d tried to. She had books about Jewish spiritualism-- Kabbalah as it were-- but after her parents had found the first one, their anger had made her never want to open one again, despite her curiosity for them. Despite what little she had read about it giving her a connection she’d never felt before.

His offer, however, was sudden and abrupt and not at all what she’d expected him to say. She blinked, confused, before softening her expression and shaking her head. “That’s real sweet of you to offer, Adam, but I could never take you up on that.” Her parents would never allow it. They’d brought her back here specifically to keep her close, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be let out of their grasp for a long time now.

Her expression fell again, as he stood and started to make his way out. “You know, Adam,” she said, a bit quieter now, “you’re a good guy. I can’t tell you what to do, but I think maybe letting people see this side of you more often might be nice.” She gave a gentle smile. “I’ll see you around. Tell Nell hi for me.”

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

MY OCS - POKEMON AU

I was super bored while the power was out so I did this lmao, under the cut bc it’s gonna be long and I don’t wanna subject y’all to that. I excluded Eeveelutions, starters and legendaries just to keep the slots more varied/open.

I don’t really know what universe or timeline this is set in, none of it’s consistent and I really don’t care :)

JUNE

The Spritzee was a gift from Mars and was their first Pokemon. Their Unown was the first Pokemon they caught by themself, since it wouldn’t stop following them around. The rest were collected haphazardly throughout their life, without any rhyme or reason, just any Pokemon that managed to worm their way into June’s cold dead heart, + any that reminded them of themself lmao.

Difficulty: 5/10 June doesn’t battle very often, and none of their Pokemon are evolved... however, they are ridiculously over-leveled, so it depends on how much you’ve been grinding your Pokemon.

DANTE

As a little kid, he caught a Poochyena, but it took a long time for him to start a journey, on which he caught a little Aron. He completed the Hoenn league with just his loyal Mightyena and Aggron, and then branched into other regions. He picked his Pokemon depending on whether they wanted to travel with him or not, and by how determined they were to get stronger. He could honestly be a member of an Elite 4 at this point, or even Champion but he wouldn’t want that. I really love the idea of Fain giving him his Dusknoir

Difficulty: 10/10 Not only are all his Pokemon strong and run good moves, they also use items to their advantages and have good strategies in place. His Aggron, Tyranitar and Steelix have Megas. You feel like you’re going to have a bad time.

MYRIAD

Myriad originally didn’t catch Pokemon, they just befriended wild Pokemon and let them hang around. Eventually, when they wanted to travel someplace else, the Pokemon that didn’t want to leave them volunteered to be caught. All except Aerodactyl, who Myriad actually ended up bringing back to life by accident (long story)... but she’s still a welcome member to the team!

Difficulty: 7/10 I hope you like status conditions!!

GINGER

She and her Raichu have never seen exactly eye to eye (since she chucked a Poke Ball at a poor little Pichu’s face super hard), they’ve both got fiery temperaments and they argue often, but they’re still partners. Mandibuzz was traded to Ginger from one of her ex girlfriends, so now the Pokemon actively disobeys her every command. The others work hard to make up for it. Ginger is on the road a lot and has battled many people in many different places.

Difficulty: 6/10 Ginger doesn’t cares lot about strategy, so it’s hit-or-miss if their moves are good or not, also they’re all not super high level, despite the battling. Still, they can do some damage.

JESSE

Jesse is a magnet for Pokemon who need help, physically or emotionally. He found and bonded with his Cubone partner over their lost mothers, and since then he has been adopting and caring for Pokemon who need him - especially Pokemon who have been abandoned.

Difficulty: 4/10 Jesse is up for a friendly battle, but he doesn’t battle often, preferring to just explore peacefully, and he always puts the health of his Pokemon friends above all else. Lanturn is the strongest and carries the team more often than not. Generally a causal trainer. He’d probably give you a few free Poke Balls after you beat him bc he’s Nice.

VROX

A bunch of scrappy easily-angered Pokemon for a scrappy easily-angered trainer. He caught his Starly partner when they were both very, very young, and since then they’ve been inseparable. They wanted to be the strongest trainer/Pokemon in the world, so they scoured the world for Pokemon with the same spirit, defeating anybody who didn’t have it. Despite a bit of in-fighting, they’re all fiercely loyal to each other.

Difficulty: 7/10 Actually fairly difficult, but they all operate on pure offence and nothing else and doesn’t use potions. Vrox’ll probably physically fight you after you beat him, he doesn’t care if you’re only ten.

EMALA

Emala doesn’t catch Pokemon - she makes friends with them, and if they want to join her team, she even lets them choose the type of Ball they want to be in. She doesn’t often make them stay in the Balls, anyway, letting them roam around her cottage home. Her partner is a Flaafy, who doesn’t want to evolve further. She isn’t a real battler, only doing so if her Pokemon want some exercise/fun. She runs a kind of unofficial Pokemon sanctuary. 

Difficulty: 9/10 Her Pokemon are strong in order to protect the sanctuary from poachers. Most of them are HP tanks, and many know health restoring or stat boosting/lowering/status moves. She is willing to play the long game and has a lot of potions. After you beat her, however, she will heal up your Pokemon whenever you ask and give you words of encouragement!!

BEN

Ben had no interest in being a trainer, he just wants to live in peace and quiet. His partner is a Cutiefly who loved him so much it found a Poke Ball, carried it to him all by itself and gave him cute eyes until he caught it. He technically hasn’t caught Drampa or Dragonite, but they’re fast friends and they live in the same place, in mutual understanding and calm. Cutiefly’s favourite thing is napping on top of Ben’s head, using his hair as a little blanket. If it ever evolved, Ben would absolutely cry with how proud he is + how much he loves it.

Difficulty: 9/10 If something even looks funny at Cutiefly, Ben and his dragons will obliterate them. They’re very protective and super over-leveled, they can and will sweep your team if you’re not prepared.

AUGUST

August has been a competitive Pokemon trainer since a young age, and is well-known as a powerful battler and a model, along with her Pokemon. She and her partner Milotic have been together since August was a baby, and they almost seem to be able to read each other’s minds. She is extremely close with all her Pokemon, pampering them and battling with them regularly. There’s rumours she might become the next Champion, but she’s neither confirm nor deny.

Difficulty: 9/10 Her Pokemon are high-leveled, know good and varied moves and she uses Full Restores. Liberally. Her Milotic is an actual tank. Both her Gardevoir and Gallade can Maga Evolve. Enough said.

MARS

He and August have a famous long-running friendly rivalry. He chooses his Pokemon solely for their strength and battles competitively. He is usually seen with his Pyroar, since the two are partners. However, aside from that, he doesn’t seem to be very close with his Pokemon. They are all very proud of their strength.

Difficulty: 9/10 Just freaking LOOK at it. Though you may notice that if you’re close to beating him, his play style will get sloppier, rasher, impatient... almost like he’s got a temper that gets the best of him sometimes...

[melissatreglia]

Papa Wolf

(Just a fic I thought I’d write, as this is a scene that’s been stuck in my head for... well, pretty much forever. It takes place within the “canon” of the Darkness ‘verse, technically, and is also a crossover with Supernatural. Enjoy!)

Bobby Singer’s eyes widened at the stranger (who he’d never seen before), as the man rather suddenly appeared before him.

“I’m going to be very quick about this, as I have little time. So, I just want you to answer one question honestly: Where are they?”

Bobby raised a grizzled eyebrow. “Who?” he said. Hopefully, this guy wasn’t talking about who the old hunter thought he was talking about.

“My children. I heard they crossed paths with your boys, and are now their guests.” The mysterious man’s expression was closed and forbidding, as if there was so much being held back. “A young lady with long black hair, is quite pretty and has a penchant for leather and killing things. The boy is energetic and has a splash of colour in his hair not commonly found in nature.

“I desire no difficulties with the local rabble. We only entered this reality to locate an item I have need of, and we intend to leave your world as quickly as possible without causing your kind any problems. Provided My children are unharmed, of course.”

The man leaned forward, against Bobby’s desk, and the shadows seemed to loom. Bobby instinctively leaned away, his grip on Ruby’s knife tightening. 

“Now, Mr. Singer, from one father figure to another, I’m sure you can appreciate My concern and would like to resolve this with all parties in reasonable condition.” The other man -- who was not merely a man -- gave a flick of an eyebrow, some unnameable and unreadable expression briefly flitting across His face. “Or we can do this the hard way. Your choice.”

Bobby lunged as fast as his slightly arthritic limbs would allow, stabbing the man’s shoulder with the demon-forged blade. His uninvited guest hissed in pain, but immediately backhanded Bobby, and the hunter was propelled several feet away into a shelf of his old books from the force of the blow.

“So you’ve chosen the hard way,” the stranger said, standing straight and turning to face Bobby again. There was a grunt as the blade was bloodlessly yanked out of His wounded shoulder, followed by an annoyed sigh as Ruby’s knife hit the floor with a dull thud. 

He attempted to readjust the fit of His now-torn jacket, adding,  “Pity. I really did like this suit.” 

Meg screeched in pain as the holy water hit her skin. 

“C’mon, Sammy! I thought you memorized the words to an exorcism by now!” the older brother growled in frustration.

The younger brother stopped amid his mix of half-remembering and half-prompting from his book to glare at his sibling. “Dean, I’m saying the words the way they should be said. It’s just not working!”

“That’s because,” the female demon snarled in response. “I’m not from around here, you meatheads! That’s an exorcism for the demons of your world. Lucifer wasn’t the one who made me!”

Her green-haired companion giggled manically, jerking back and forth in his bindings in a manner that resembled a computer screen glitching badly. “She’s right, ya know. But you’re gonna meet Him s̷͙͑ō̸̘ǫ̴͌n̴̦͋.”  The glitchy demon gave another inappropriately-timed giggle.

“I’m not the Meg of your world either, idiots. And the best part? The guy who made me? He’s looking for us right now and, when He finds you, you’re gonna be dead meat.”

Dean stared at her. “How can you be so damn sure?”

Meg smirked, the hair falling over her eyes almost making her look like that creepy chick from The Ring. “Because I called Him.”

Dean grabbed Sam and pulled him aside. “The fuck did she mean by that?!”

“Well, she doesn’t have a cellphone or that blood-bowl that demons like Crowley use...” Sam began.

Dean grimaced. “So, that means... what, exactly?”

Sam frowned thoughtfully. “A psychic connection, maybe?”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit.”

As if on cue, there was an angry, violent rumble of the ground beneath their feet. A high pitched white noise like radio static inundated their ears and minds. The lines of the devil’s traps that the two demons were held in broke, and the green-haired teenaged boy sighed in relief as he ripped off his bindings.

The girl, Meg, remained still, apparently too tired from the Winchesters’ interrogation methods. 

The heavy metallic door of their current warehouse hideout exploded into the room. A man with raven-dark hair and in a business suit under a heavy woolen coat walked in, sneering at them. “Hello, boys.”

Sam and Dean glanced at each other in puzzlement. “Crowley?”

The man chuckled, the timbre of His unnaturally deep voice echoing. “Oh, don’t you wish.” He gave a slight flick of a hand, as casually if He were merely swatting away a fly, and the young hunters were thrown back into the cement wall over a dozen feet behind them.

Then, the man turned to the two young demons. “There you are.”

The man immediately drew toward Meg. With paternal tenderness, He tilted her head up and pushed her hair back to examine the burns on her face. “Holy water,” He growled.

He glared up at the two hunters, still pinned to the cement wall through this being’s psychic power. “I should kill you for this insult. Fortunately for you, you may be of more use to Me alive.”

“Go to hell,” Dean snapped.

The stranger chuckled, apparently more amused than annoyed. “Really? Years of ‘saving people, hunting things’ and that is the best insult you can come up with?”

The girl demon whined at Her creator-turned-rescuer like a small child. “Daddy, I want to go home.”

“We shall, little one. We shall.” When she moved to get up, He gently squeezed her shoulder. “Just relax and catch your breath for now. You’ve had a difficult day today.”

He glanced up at the two hunters again.

“I’m only here to take My children home. However...” -- and at this, He glanced at their stash of items on a nearby table -- “I do hope you don’t mind if I take a look around.”

Dean and Sam could only watch as He proceeded to rifle through their things, and Sam inwardly cursed that they hadn’t had enough time to hide some of the material before this douchebag showed up.

The man seem to stop when He happened upon one of the volumes of books in their possession. The wear and tear of the leather-bound tome betrayed its age, and He began to skim through the pages with a careful touch.

He then chortled. “The Grand Grimiore, in the original Byzantine Greek. As it turns out, you had the precise item I was looking for. What are the odds?”

He made a grand sweeping gesture to the two demons. “Come, children. Our little roadtrip has ended. It is time to go home.” They immediately ran to His side, apparently quite eager to leave.

The unholy trio vanished, and Sam and Dean could move freely once again.

“Uh... Sammy? What was in that book, exactly?”

“...Um, contacting spirits and demons, some spellwork... and uh, stuff about necromancy. Like, high-level spells that take a lot o’ juice to pull off.”

“Well, shit,” Dean muttered. “Is it wrong to hope that He really isn’t sticking around, with that kinda mojo?”

“Definitely not a notch in the win column for us.”

“No kidding. This gig sucks.”

[ellebeebee]

2.537

Part Four

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

Phrixus Jaril, 13, moves to the Citadel at a delicate age: namely, the peak of his teenage angst. He doesn’t expect much from these rich Citadel kids. But then he meets the Ryder twins, and all their friends, and realizes that he may have been a wee bit wrong about things. His relationship with Mira Ryder evolves over the years, and he never expected things to end up the way they did.

3952 words, Female Ryder|Sara Ryder/Original Male Turian Character, teen rating

AO3

-

Going back to that feature presentation of Fleet and Flotilla. He’d always kinda thought Bellicus and Shalei were full of shit. All of that agony, all of that fretting– how could that bind people together forever? You know, emotionally. In their hearts if you were feeling cheesy. And the singing– spirits.

That’s not what it was with Mira. It was the greasy smoke of the shadier wards, where all the fun stuff happened. It was the teasing, the small gestures that sparked the excited churn in his stomach. It was mortifying embarrassment and the giggling as they soldiered through the embarrassment. It was accidentally bumping heads and teeth and the slime of spit as they miscalculated their amorous endeavors. It was nearly giving himself a stroke while steeling himself to procure lube and condoms and antihistamines. It was the agonizing boners he popped just from extranet searches and his, well, thinking.

He’s heard other first time stories since, and he doesn’t get the whole thing where it was rushed and over-hyped and ultimately disappointing. Because his ending up being– well, it ending up being what it ended up being, but he still will always think of it as something that Bellicus and Shalei could never touch.

Anyway, he got a message from Forta the day before he and Mira planned to meet.

Hey. Listen, you don’t have to reply to this. It’s kind of awkward as it is for me to send. And I don’t want to be that guy that gets into anyone’s business. But I kinda have an idea that things are happening, and I just want you to know that if something happens or anyone needs help, I can totally be there, zero judgment. I would appreciate all parties being clothed, but I’ll take what I can get. Anyway. Happy Loss of Virginity Day!

Phrixus had sworn, quietly and vehemently. Thank spirits he’d been in his room and away from his moms’ overly keen ears. Thank spirits he was on break and technically didn’t have to see Forta for another week. Even though he probably would. Shit, she’d probably told Aela, too.

Well. It’s not like he had anything to be ashamed of. He was just… embarrassed.

There was a reason he used sarcasm to deal with people. A reason his default mode was to be a prickly, sullen idiot. But there was also a reason why he could never be that way to Mira. He had so much difficulty being open and honest, but it was almost… easy with her.

So there was no way he could let it change the way he felt about tomorrow. All of this openness would be character-building. Or something.

He walked to the station, rode the tram, and walked to her place while silently vacillating between running the fuck away and running pell-mell all the way there. His head cycled furiously while he clutched at the strap of his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” she said, opening the door for him.

“Hey,” he said.

As he moved past her, he stepped through a clean floral scent floating around her. And that realization that she’d showered, that she’d prepared too, gut-punched him and galvanized his nerves by like a million.

The Ryder apartment was in Quet Ward, in a nice district with like, public gardens and stuff, and no dirty alleys with twitchy hallex pushers. At least as far as he’d seen. With a kitchen, living room, three bedrooms and two baths, the place closer resembled the old house on Niiet than his flat now. The apartment wasn’t exactly spotless; the remains of a breakfast littered the kitchen counters and table, and large stacks of files sat on nearly every surface, along with datapads and some portable projectors with floating holograms here and there. One was particularly mesmerising with a vivid blue sphere and enigmatic data reads looping around it.

“My parents don’t really bring their work home,” Mira said, looking at him. “It’s more like ‘home’ sometimes happens while they’re working.”

He turned to her.

He hadn’t dressed up or anything; neither had she, just shorts and a shirt and her hair loose. It seemed about right. It was just them. Just Mira and Phrixus. Not that it wasn’t important, but you know. She was leaning against the kitchen counter, looking at him as he looked around. Was he stalling? Maybe.

Now that he thought about it, though, Mira and Forta didn’t talk too much about their parents. Phrixus certainly complained enough about his moms and how annoying they could be. Except he didn’t really mean it. But when the twins talked about their parents, it was mostly to say they’d stayed up late talking to their mom after running into her doing some midnight research and now they just wanted to sleep through morning classes. Or their dad was finally home for a while, and they’d have to skip the Arena matches to sit through some painfully awkward family dinners.

Mira was looking at him, and not looking at him, gaze gradually shifting away the longer he stayed silent. He set down his bag and went over to the counter, her standing on the kitchen side and him on the living room side. Her hand rested on the countertop, and he covered it with his own.

“Hey,” he said. “You know if–”

“Yeah,” she interrupted him. “I know. We’ve had a while to think, and I still want to. If you do.”

“Yeah. I mean, I do.”

The hand underneath his twisted around and she entwined her fingers with his. Her round face, with its square jaw and its large eyes, turned up toward him and offered a small smile. How the hell he could have ever found it difficult to read her, he didn’t know. Because the nerves and the warmth in her expression were so obvious.

“So. So, Phrixus Jaril,” she exhaled. “You’re a great person. And I like you. And I trust you. So…”

He flicked his mandibles. “Yeah. I– you’re amazing, and sweet, and I trust you, too…”

He looked down, a little overwhelmed with the tightness in his chest and throat and the heat flashing behind his crest.

Mira straightened and tugged on his hand. “Sooo, c’mon?”

She moved in the direction of the hall.

“Wait,” he said.

He went to his bag and dug until he pulled out a couple small boxes. He put them down on the counter, and started opening one. Mira reached for the other one to look at the back.

“Oh, right,” she stated. “Antihistamines.”

“Not presuming anything, but it’s better–”

“Yeah. Anaphylactic shock’s no joke.”

They met each other’s eyes and burst into giggles. Oh, spirits. All of this was too much. They fiddled with their little boxes of tablets.

Mira turned hers over. “Oh, these aren’t the ones for– you know. This.”

He looked at her. “You mean, there’s actually…?”

“Yeah,” she said, glancing at him with a look that said ‘told you I should’ve helped.’

She pulled out the little sheet of sealed tablets. “Well. It should be fine. Maybe… take a few more just in case?”

“Yeah,” he said, popping out a few more himself.

She poured them each a glass of water, fingers fumbling a little as she put them down on the counter.

“Sooo… Forta’s gone?”

Mira looked at him, tucking a strand of hair away and tucking her chin down. “You really wanna talk about that?

She stepped closer and took his hand again. He took the other one, too. And they stood close, toe to toe.

“I guess not,” he stated.

They studied each other, and in that study they seemed to find something– maybe not stilling the nerves or banishing them.  They still had the wild impulses to giggle, but it was like, yes, they shared the exact same feeling. And really, how many times does that happen in the universe? Feeling the exact same way as the person beside you.

They gently tapped foreheads, rotating the point of contact down to feel their shared skin and brush lips.

She led him to her room, him grabbing his bag along the way.

The walls were painted in a pale peach-y, rose-y color, and the bed resembled a cloud of white down and lavender pillows. She had a little desk with floor cushions and various stuffed animals arranged around a quiet terminal. Photos cycled through several of those little wall monitors arranged in an artfully haphazard pattern. Her school things were scattered about. He’d been here a few times, and he’d thought about this so many more times. It was real and unreal. That painfully sweet filter.

In that midday quiet, Phrixus learned who Mira Ryder was, and she him. It’s not that sexual intimacy is the be-all, end-all of knowing someone, or that it was the given endgame of emotional intimacy. You didn’t have to sleep with someone to know them. But sometimes– when it’s the scariest and ends up lingering with you longest– sometimes it’s an act of the utmost vulnerability.

But that’s all hindsight.

At the time, it was a lot of giggling and discovery and finding out that, no, vids and infograms aren’t going to tell you everything, certainly won’t tell you anything about individual needs or desires. And, nothing had prepared him for the shifts in gravity, the shifts in his focus that made even the most miniscule parts of her profound. The way his gaze locked and his head went both fuzzy and razor sharp. The way everything down to the strange microscopic down of her skin had afterimages–

“Wait,” Phrixus struggled to say, except he did say it, didn’t he?

Mira looked up at him, paused and eyes wide and black. She licked her lips.

“Wait,” he said again, even though nothing was happening. “Wait.”

And it seemed to take years and years (years in which he couldn’t do anything but watch), but she lifted a hand and placed it against his jaw, along his mandible.

“How many of those tablets did we take?” he asked. It felt like he was pulling his words from a deep pit that fell through to the other side of the the planet– the Citadel. How many sides did the Citadel have?

She kept staring at him, eyes sort-of vibrating. But she finally seemed to find her tongue and a small whisper. “Are we high?”

Despite the great effort it took and the cloying attraction of just staring at her face, he pulled away from her.

“How many milligrams were they?” he said.

For what felt like forever, they hissed to each other about going out and checking those boxes still sitting on the counter, but they were both afraid for unknown reasons. And, they couldn’t seem to muster the compulsion to get dressed, or the resistance to the draw of simply staring at each other, at the room’s objects. A suggestion was made to call someone. Mira got upset, holding her face and going ‘noooooo.’ Whisper soft. They were both whispering intensely.

And staring up at the ceiling. They were on their backs, staring at the faux-panelling of the ceiling and the yawning vent in the corner.

And then, several yawns of the vent later, Mira was turned toward him and whispering.

“But, I mean, are you– okay? We didn’t…”

He exerted every tendon and fiber of muscle in his neck to turn and look at her. “Are you?”

She blinked, and then burst into a hissing laugh, using a hand to stifle it ineffectively. “Not really.”

He laughed, too. He wiggled closer to her, across the fascinating weave of her sheets.

“I don’t really want to– not like this,” he said. “But there’s always a next time.”

Hair swirling underneath her face, she smiled. “Yeah. That’s right, isn’t it?”

-

It turned out that they came down after a few hours: far less time than it had felt like then. And it also turned out that their tablets had been fast-acting, how-powered antihistamines with twice the dosage than he thought they’d had. Honestly, how the hell was it legal for him, a kid, to even walk out of the pharmacy with those things?

But they both managed to get their shit together enough to get dressed and call Forta, so that he could come home and they could play video games or something. He gave them funny looks when he walked through the door, but didn’t say anything. They wasted the evening away, and eventually went out to get dinner at a fast-food place. Things were… normal. Except he and Mira couldn’t look at each other without turning into gooey-eyed messes.

It had Forta rolling his eyes, but in a rare act of charity he refrained from commenting.

Things afterward were, well. Normal. It’s not like they were suddenly different people, reborn by baptism of cherry-popping. It’s just– now they knew something new about themselves. About each other.

And then they kept finding out things about each other, because, like Phrixus had said, there was a next time. And times after the next time.

And as these times multiplied, if Phrixus thought he had thought a lot about her before, it didn’t compare to how his head lingered in her bedroom during the middle of the day, alone at night. How he caught himself staring at her at inopportune times, as if he was still stuck there staring at the ceiling and floating on white down. His neediness surprised him. It was almost like she’d stripped some power from him, tugged and tied him to her.

But the feeling was mutual. She lingered with him before and after classes. Called him every night if he didn’t first. Messaged him so much it felt like breathing. If she was nervous before, she was a giggly mess about him after.

His moms teased him, offered to buy him a seeing-eye bot on account of him blundering around with hearts in his eyes all the time. Aela started complaining about him stealing her best friend.

Neither he nor Mira cared much.

-

“I don’t know– think they’ll like this?” Calix complained, turning the bottle over in her hand. “What is it, sha– shaar–”

“It’s fine,” Phrixus said flatly.

Domera turned to eye him. “And how do you know, huh?”

“I don’t, just– you two are making me nervous.”

Calix and Domera gave each other a look around him.

Quet Ward was mostly quiet. A few families walking to the neighborhood restaurants, or people just finishing their shift and getting home. Ellen Ryder had invited them all over for dinner, saying it was high time they got together. Calix and Domera had cheerfully agreed. They’d met Ellen already, and apparently messaged each other sometimes (the contents of these messages Phrixus was loathe to ever, ever learn). But they hadn’t spoken to Alec yet. And he was home, so perfect timing, right?

Calix hip-bumped him. “Oh, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. We’ll be on our best behavior, right, Dom?”

“Right. We won’t even get drunk,” Domera said, waving the second and dextro bottle of wine at him.

“That’s reassuring,” he stated, mandibles flicking.

His moms rolled their eyes. They reached the right building and the doorman nodded at them.

In the elevator, Domera leaned against the rail with a dangerous look in her eye. “So? Any stories we need to get straight before we go in?”

“What do you mean?” he said, staring very hard at the flashing floor numbers above the door.

“Oh, I dunno. Any clandestine meetings we need to cover for you? Illicit rendezvous?”

“Could you not make it sound like a cheap uniform-ripper?” he said.

Calix and Domera both started giggling, elbowing each other.

“You think he’ll be sitting outside the door with a shotgun?” Calix asked.

“We don’t know you anymore if he is,” Domera told Phrixus.

The elevator ting’ed politely and the silent doors slid open. Domera made a show of sticking her head out into the hall and looking both ways.

“Nope, all clear,” she announced.

Phrixus strode around her. “Great.”

The apartment wasn’t that far down the hall, so he had very little time in which to force down the flutter of his heart and stomach. He shouldn’t be so worried; it was just a dinner, his moms were there, Mira and Forta were there, and he knew Ellen. But still. Something about the whole thing was too formal. Something like an essential, vital to the rest of his life test.

“–honestly, Phrixus, don’t worry,” Calix was saying. “You’re a handsome, smart young man. You’re fine. Nothing to sweat over.”

He stopped at the Ryders’ door and glanced at her, not replying. He looked away, feeling if anything more queasy with all that praise. He tapped at the door’s panel to ring their bell, the bright little melody muffled by metal and faux-paneling walls.

“And anyway,” Domera said. “At least he can’t get her pregnant.”

Phrixus whirled and hissed, horrified. “Spirits, Mom.”

“What? It’s true–”

The door whipped open. “Hi!”

Mira stood in the doorway, smiling at them. She wore an apron, obviously used recently, and her hair up in its long, swinging ponytail.

“Hi, honey!” Domera said, nudging Phrixus out of the way to swoop in for a hug.

Calix cut him off, too, claiming her own hug after Domera’s. “Look at you, looking adorable.”

“Oh, stop,” Mira laughed.

Released from his moms’ clutches, she sank back down from her tippy-toes to look at him. Still smiling, she reached up to tug at his shirt and bring him down for a peck on the cheek. And that made things a little better, as he gazed down at her.

“Hi, you all look well!”

And he forced himself to look up as Ellen Ryder appeared in the entryway. She gestured further into the apartment.

She smiled. “Come on in. We just put the pie in, but everything else is ready. We just need to set the table.”

She traded cheek kisses with Domera and Calix, trading compliments and small talk. They were all herded in out of the hall, and in the living room Alec Ryder stood to greet them. Frankly, Phrixus could read the twins pretty well now, but he still had a hard time differentiating aliens he didn’t know well. Even so, he was pretty sure that Forta resembled his dad to a bizarre degree. The square jaw, the round nose, the sharp cheekbones– just with some age and scarring to go along with. And the whole family was some shade of golden brown.

Phrixus had thought (fretted) about this a lot, and had decided to go the safe route.

He reached his hand forward. “Sir.”

Alec Ryder paused, not letting a smidgen if his inner thoughts onto his face. The women around them quieted, tittering. Which Phrixus stubbornly ignored. Alec made a little cough (hiding a smile), and shook Phrixus’s hand.

“Good to see you again. Phrixus,” Alec said.

“I’m here, too,” Forta called from his sprawl on the couch. He waved at them.

At his shoulder, Mira pushed at him a little, breaking his handshake with her father. “Okay, that’s done. You gonna be okay with the rest, Mom?”

Her hand bunched in his shirt and started dragging him away before Ellen could reply. Phrixus followed after Mira walking them to the inner hall and whipping her apron over her head, throwing it on the back of a chair.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” Ellen called after them, a smile in her voice.

“We’ll help,” Domera said.

“Oh, no! You’re guests, just sit and let’s get you some wine– Mira! Doors open!”

In the hall, Mira stopped hustling Phrixus, grinned and rolled her eyes at his gaze.

“I know!” she called back to her mother.

They escaped into her room before any more instructions could be given, leaving the door open. The chatter between Ellen and his moms drifted in.

“Everything smells so good.”

“I have a confession. I didn’t really do much; just followed what Mira told me to do.”

“She’s so good at this sort of thing.”

“I know. I don’t know where she got it from, because it definitely wasn’t me.”

Mira poked him. “Hey. You okay? You look worried.”

He looked down at her, pulled her a step closer. “I’m not worried.”

She snuck her arms around his waist, squeezing, and rested her chin on his chest. “Oh yeah? So all that up there is just a thing your face does?”

He returned the hug, and glanced over his shoulder. Satisfied with the empty door and the light chatter down the hall, he went back to her and her little smile, and bent to tap their foreheads.

“I’m not worried.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tough guy. Jeez, you– Dad likes you.”

He flicked his mandibles. “How can you tell?”

“Hmm,” she hummed, rubbing the tip of her nose against his collar with twinkling eyes. “Oh, I dunno. You’re cute.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not–”

“Forta, can you check on them?”

Ellen was speaking in an obviously raised voice. Giving them a warning.

“I’m busy.”

“Forta.”

“Alright, alright,” Forta sighed dramatically. And then his voice raised obviously, too. “I’m getting up now! I’m walking through the living room! Coming down the hall!”

By the time he’d gotten to the doorway, Mira was sitting at her terminal and Phrixus was laid out across the room on the bed, omnitool out. Forta stuck his head in, looked at them, and smirked.

“Nice,” he said.

Mira chucked a handy stuffed animal at his head. “Shut up, dweeb.”

He dodged it easily. “Whatever. Dinner’s ready.”

Ellen, Domera, and Calix took the conversation at the table in hand: some light surface discussion of their jobs, how do you pronounce the name of that human wine anyway, and my, how delicious everything was. When Mira got flustered at the compliment, Phrixus tapped her heel with his own under the table. And Alec finally made some comment about how Mira’s math and science grades going up recently, wasn’t that funny?

He glanced away from Mira and Phrixus squirming in their seats to Forta, twirling a fork at him. “Maybe you need to follow that example?”

“Yeah, don’t think I’m gonna go dating my sister’s boyfriend,” he drawled.

Alec rolled his eyes, and turned to Calix and Domera. “Point is, your son’s been a good influence.”

Domera laughed, reaching across the table to pat Phrixus on the head. “He’s a good little egg.”

As his mom’s hand lifted away from his eyes, he saw Forta and Mira exchange a look. They simultaneously looked down to their plates.

The discussion turned political, to the rising likelihood of humanity becoming a council species and how that would upset the power balances with the other non-council species. Dessert came around: a pie for the dextros, ice cream for the levos. Then a nightcap, some last chatter, and farewells were made. Calix and Domera tottered out the hall, very clearly buzzed. Well. They had only promised to not get drunk, anyway.

Mira walked them down the hall, and his moms very pointedly went ahead to wait for the elevator, ignoring them.

He took her hands. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”

She gave him a thin smile and shrugged. Staying quiet, she swung his hands, rocking back on her heels. He just studied her, not saying anything either. The elevator pinged, and Mira straightened, and he bent so that she could brush her lips lightly at his cheek.

“See you tomorrow?” she said.

“See you,” he said, joining his tittering mothers in the elevator.

Mira stood there as the doors slid closed, waving.

[domina-alba]

Seditionis Adamas

IV Pink Pearl leaned against a cavern wall while Jet raged. The Black Pearl had been summoning her throwing star weapon and tossing it against the wall repeatedly for several minutes, swearing profusely. Needless to say she hadn't taken the news of Mauve’s separation well.

“And of all things!” Jet said flinging the latest weapon she had pulled from her gem directly into a column, leaving a deep gouge into it. “The one diamond we were sure was safe, that you said was nothing to worry about!” Pink Pearl flinched as Jet turned towards her, gesturing angrily with her throwing star . “How could she do this? It might be worse than shattering I don’t think Mauve’s been separated since the war ended.”

“Domina couldn’t have known-”

“And if she had would she have acted any different?!” Jet cut her off.

“I don’t know.” Pink said straightening herself “But she doesn’t, she was trying to be merciful you can’t blame her!”

“I certainly can, She benefits from this system just as much as the other two does! She wasn’t trying to be merciful she was trying to protect the empires resources!” Another set of gouges appeared in the column. “She’s not any better than the other’s”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Pink said walking toward the other Pearl. “She’s doing her best!”

“And her best sent two gems to a fate worse than shattering!” Jet said lowly “How can you defend her, after all these years, after every single one her tantrums you’ve had to deal with, after everything you’ve seen the diamonds do, how can you still stand there and defend her? Mauve is gone! Her components are separated and will most likely never see eachother again! And if White Diamond found out about the base tomorrow or that anyone of us was a part of this do you think she would hesitate to have us shattered or worse!”

“She wouldn’t! You don’t know her!”

“What do you think your exempt because your her precious Pearl? Your nothing, like the rest of us! Just another replaceable cog in the ma-” Before Pink Pearl knew what she was doing she had swung at Jet, aiming for the side of her face opposite the Pearl’s eye gem. Jet staggered back and immediately retaliated with her own punch, knocking Pink to the ground.  Blue Pearl found them like that roughly a minute later, shouting and hitting each other. Pink Pearl was roughly yanked back as Blue Pearl moved between them.

“What in stars name are you two doing!?”

“She needs to pick a side!” Jet shouted.

“Like shards I do!” Pink spat.

“What are you talking about.” Blue said her voice was quiet but carried an authoritive tone. Between the two of them the whole story came out. When it was over Blue sat on a nearby rock and stared at the floor for a long moment in thought. Then she looked at Pink. “Do you know which planet’s her components were sent too?” Pink Pearl shook her head.

“The court hasn’t made that decision yet.”

“So they’re still on planet?” Jet asked, her anger not quite evaporating but condensing at the very least. Pink nodded.

“I believe they’re being held in the White District’s cell block.” she said. Blue frowned and fiddled with the fringes of her hair.

“We don’t have the forces to get in there.”

“We could if we were stealthy enough.” Jet said. Blue frowned deeper and folded her legs.

“Perhaps, even then.” She looked at Pink Pearl as if waiting for her to suggest something. And then Pink did.

* * * *

Domina’s sleep schedule was still rather irregular but it had gotten much better over the past year. And that enabled far more regular dream meetings with Steven. This one found them in her dream. Domina looked around the spire reading room that she once again found herself in. Steven floated in.

“Hey Domina!” He said cheerily “Back at the spire?”

“It seems like it.” Domina frowned slightly “My mind must just be stuck on work,” She shook her head. “Any way how are you, did you get the files I sent you?”

“Yeah.” Steven hopped up on one of the tables. “I haven’t read it yet, Peridot sent it to me but reading too much in gem makes my head hurt.”

“I feel the same way about English. Tell Connie that the third Spirit Morph book is going to take me a bit longer. I’m only half way through.” Steven nodded

“Hows Pink Pearl?” He asked. Domina smiled.

“She doing alright, busy like I am, we really need to set up a video chat.”

“I asked Peridot about that but she said that Homeworld would probably pick up the transmission and then Garnet said no.” Steven said swinging his feet. Domina frowned. There were difficulties in having a friend that was technically a rebel.

“Right.”  She said.

“So what have you been up too?” He asked. Domina shrugged.

“Work same as always” She said deliberately avoiding any possible conversation about her latest power. “I’m sure your life is more interesting than mine right now.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” Steven said “Let’s see,” He started counting off on his fingers. “Me and Buck and Jenny and Sour Cream and Sadie are playing in a big show in a couple of months, The wailing stone has been ringing all day and just turned off again before I went to bed, Connie and me have been going on missions as Stevonnie with Garnet, Oh!” He sat up straight.

“Pearl’s got a girlfriend!” He said. Domina blinked.

“A what?”

“A Girlfriend. She’s really cool and rides a motorcycle and knows how to do like everything!” He said. “Her name is-”

“Wait, Steven what’s a girlfriend.” Domina interrupted.

“Huh?” Steven frowned puzzled. “Oh it’s a girl that you date.” Domina blinked.

“You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“Well when two people like each other a lot they go on dates, like my mom and dad did, too get to know each other better.”

“Oh!” Domina said, a sliver of her father's stories coming back to her. “Adolor.(add in translation!!!!!) “

“What?”

“I uh.. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a gem equivalent. But it’s like what you described, from what my father said anyway.” Domina said with a shrug. “So Pearl is.. ‘dating’ a human?”

“Yup! Like I said she’s super cool.” He said then proceeded to tell her about one of the crystal gems latest missions to a prewar research station and then about a movie he and Connie had gone to see.

When Domina awoke she was still as tired as she had been  when she went to bed in the first place, meetings with Steven were always like that. She was about to turn over and doze back off in an attempt to get at least some type of rest when the warp pad activated. Domina frowned and slipped from her bed to poke her head out the door. Pearl had just stepped off the pad and froze when she saw Domina.

“Oh, Pearl.” Domina said with a yawn. “Where have you been?”

“I..just went for a walk my apologies my- Domina, did you need something?” Pearl asked. Domina shook her head and thought back to the other times Pearl had been strangely absent. And then she thought about her conversation with Steven and about the Sapphire and Pearl she had had to seperate a few days ago. Was pearl hiding something from her? Someone? What would Domina do if it was her that was brought before the court? Domina chose her next words carefully.

“If...there’s something I should know Pearl.” She said. “I mean, I wouldn’t be upset if you told me there was something going on. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you.”  Pearl looked taken aback but quickly shook her head.

“No my diamond, everything is fine, I’m sorry for worrying you, you should get some rest while you still can.”

“Alright alright I will, just.. Promise me you’ll tell me if I can do something to help?” Domina said pleadingly, unable to shake the screams from her head once they had started again. Pearl was quiet for a long moment before gently setting a hand on Domina’s shoulder.

“I will Domina.”