#her whole thing with link is like a glaring red mark on all of her issues and thats why I think shes so fucking AGGRESSIVE with him

[thebleedingeffect]

i support rewriting hyrule warriors a whole lot!! cia's main goal being for a man makes me upset tbh. she couldve been unhinged and liked link on the side!!! not it being her entire personality!!!! agh!!!!

This ask was like a code that activated the sleeper agent in my brain and now I need to pause absolutely everything and talk about Cia because I fucking adore her so damn much. I 100% agree btw that liking link shouldn't have been her entire personality BUT I do think that her infatuation with link could've illuminated more deeper, darker parts of her born from abandonment, desperation, and pure, unfiltered anger towards the fates and goddesses. In my mind, I've always believed that so much of Cia's pain, resentment, and destructive nature was actually born from intense isolation, abandonment, and pure loneliness. Cia was the guardian of time and overseer of the triforce, and personally, I like to believe that she was the one watching over the triforce inbetween incarnations.

But here's the thing, she was always completely alone in this monumental task that was hers and hers alone to bare. There was no one for her to talk to, to share this burden with, or even simply breathe the same air as her. She was completely and utterly alone. Not only that, but she was robbed of any sort of autonomy and life that she might've had in this fate that was destined for her to endure for all time. Personally, I really like to imagine that Hylia was the one who chose her for this role, which is a whole other layer of pain that makes Cia's character all the more raw. I also really like to think that once, perhaps Cia DID have that loyalty and adoration for all of the goddesses, but it was the loss of that love that made her hatred so vicious.

My idea of Cia is one who was abandoned by the golden goddesses from the beginning and only ever had Hylia by her side, at least at the beginning. Cia is ruled by her need for companionship, for someone to care, protect, and make her a priority, her rightful anger at the world for being abandoned with so much responsibility, and want for something more. Consider the fact that Hylia had chosen her, only to abandon her and rip out a part of herself to wander the world that she could never touch. Imagine how Cia would feel if she could do nothing but watch as a mere shadow of Hylia, the goddess that promised her she's stay, walked the earth and was loved. Loved by her people, her kingdom, the land itself- her knight.

Cia is made up of so many intricacies' and fear and desperation- but more than anything, I truly do think her obsession with the heroes spirit exposes a far deeper, even human part of her. Now, I do not think Cia was immediately all over any of the link's at the beginning, instead, I think Cia saw a shadow of herself in the heroes spirit and that was the first thing that drew her to them. To Cia, all of the heroes share the same infallible certainty of doomed fate as her and for that? She felt a kinship with them before obsession even dawned over her. All of their hardships was expected to be suffered silently, without question, and without the slightest whisper of complaint. She saw how utterly alone they were in their travels. She saw how alone she was in her fate. Before her is a twisted mirror, a mirror where she sees nothing but her own trapped, suffering reflection, a reflection that she so wishes to free.

As I said earlier, Cia is made up of contradictions and assumptions built in her mind from decades upon decades of isolation and desperation. What lengths of companionship, of understanding, of a kind hand... when you've been alone for so long? At first, I think Cia is more depressed than anything, at least until she starts to realize just how unfair- how cruel- her fate is. How dare Hylia make such a promise to her, only to leave her behind? How dare the world demand so much of her and not even give her the slightest glance or acknowledgement? How dare the world demand her everlasting forgiveness and gaze when it cannot even afford to gift her a kind hand? It's from this that Cia's anger is born and that if the world will not give her what she so desperately wants, she'll simply take it for herself.

What if she had a body for herself. What if the land underneath her feet was hers. What if she was no longer a quiet, powerless thing. What if... she could find someone who understood her. What if she was able to find someone who could share her pain. What if she could have everything she ever wanted and more. Maybe if she did that, it would heal those countless years of loneliness.

And going back to the heroes spirit for a moment- or the links- I think the reason her whole obsession with link starts is because he loves and protects so fiercely. They're dedicated enough to fight back against the darkness of the cycle each and every time and emerge victorious. The hero is the one who sacrifices everything, who bleeds, who fights. The hero is ruled by duty, love, and loyalty. In a way, link represents everything that she ever wanted and wanted to be, and it's once her depression, fury, and the want for more start to merge- that's when her obsession starts to manifest.

I truly do agree btw that Cia SHOULD'VE been more than just her obsession for link!! She has so much damn potential and I think that her thing for link should've been just one of many threads holding her fucked up mentality together! She had the potential to be such a tragic, fucked up villain of the fucking AGES !!!! I wish she got so much worse and dragged the world down into fucking ashes before the goddesses. I wish she was nasty towards zelda and had a whole thing with her because she couldn't look at her and not see the goddess who abandoned her for infinity. I wish she looked upon hyrule and saw a land not even worthy to exist, and if it had to? Then it had to be hers. I wish she truly dragged link through the coals. I wish we had a Cia who wanted the world to suffer because she had intertwined herself with her own pain and need for vengeance that it there was no turning back for her. I wish we saw more of the kind of Cia who was willing to do anything to win.

Can you tell that I love her. Cause I love her a lot.

[neopuff]

title: blades (chapter 1: sunk) (click for chapter 2) word count: ~3200 ship: six/holiday summary: Holiday gives Six a gift. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47419594

“I told you to be more careful, Six. I wish…I’m just-! This could’ve been a lot worse, you know. You could’ve… … …are you even listening to me?”

He wasn’t, actually.

Six was a bit distracted from Dr. Holiday’s voice by the tiny shards of metal she was currently tugging out of his skin with a small set of tweezers. His neck, shoulders, upper arms, and chest were covered in little, bleeding holes created by tiny pieces of metal. But it was better than the alternative, which would’ve been getting crushed to death by a single, gigantic piece of metal.

She pulled out a particularly long piece that made him wince and Six could practically feel her worried gaze. He didn’t think it was necessary. Compared to many of the injuries in his life, this morning was not on the list of craziest or most painful or hardest to recover from. Without his shirt or jacket on, she could see for herself his endless list of scars that came from the work he did. And Holiday was becoming an expert on caring for violent personal injuries (since Six never wanted to go to Medical), so she could probably tell what kind of weapon caused them or how old the scars were.

It wasn’t his first time being partially naked in front of her and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. She’d had plenty of time to take in all the scars and despite her obvious curiosity, she hadn’t asked him about a single one. Six appreciated that, though he knew she was restraining herself. She was a scientist, after all, and wanted answers to every question.

He stared at the small metal bowl she was dropping each piece in. There were already at least twenty small shards and he knew there were at least a dozen more. Holiday was surprisingly patient about the whole situation, especially considering her initial, very angry reaction to seeing him come into her lab covered in blood. (Again.)

“It’s not just about you, Six,” she muttered quietly. There was a note of anger in her voice that caught Six’s attention. “Imagine how this feels for Rex.”

“I imagine it feels worse for me than it does for him.”

Holiday glared at him for what almost sounded like a joke, not appreciating the timing. “I’m being serious. Rex looks up to you and he really hurt you.”

“It’s not that bad.” He winced again as she pulled out another shard, this time from near his collarbone. Six was extremely lucky that the pieces were so small.

“I know it could’ve been worse, but you need to look out for yourself.” She sounded frustrated with herself almost as much as him, making Six wonder if she’d thought about saying this to him before. “You know that sword of yours can’t cut through his builds.”

He frowned, feeling an argument coming on. His katana was perfect and sometimes it could cut through Rex’s builds - just the softer part of the build near the kid’s arms or legs. In this particular case, Six had attempted to shield himself from one of Rex’s “smack hands” with a heavy slice of his blade, but instead of cutting through, the build reacted by falling apart in midair.

It had all happened within less than a second, and all Six could remember from the moment was Rex’s scream of fear. Holiday was wrong about one thing, Six was thinking about Rex. He didn’t want the kid to be responsible for his death - both because that would be humiliating and also because it would scar him for life. And that possibility came up much more often than he wished it did.

He sucked in a breath as Holiday pulled out the longest piece of shrapnel so far.

“How many more pieces are there?”

Holiday glanced up at him, annoyed that he ignored her comments but not surprised. She grabbed her tablet and poked the screen to bring it back to life, showing a clean x-ray of Six’s torso with little red X’s all over. She marked a few more spots and then took a second to count. “Four more. Five, if we count the deeply embedded piece of metal in your arm.”

“We don’t.”

“Alright.” Holiday knew it was an old injury from his old life and knew better than to ask about it. She wanted to know about what he used to do - she wanted to hear stories and explanations of each and every scar he had - but they’d only known each other a few months. He was a secretive guy. It’d take a lot more time before he opened up to her - if he ever did.

Six watched Holiday grab at the last few pieces and found himself staring at her face. He’d been doing that too often lately, especially when she was cleaning up an injury for him. Which was also happening too often. 

But he couldn’t help it. She had a very nice face. She was comforting to look at and when he was being repeatedly pricked by tiny pieces of metal, it was nice to have her there. (Even if she was doing the pricking.)

“I look out for myself as well as I can, Doctor,” Six said as she pulled out the final piece. “It’s not like I want to go through this every other day.”

“Hmm,” she hummed in response, clearly not believing him. “Don’t get up yet, you’re still bleeding.”

Six continued to sit, trying to be patient. But he wanted to go take a shower and get the dirt and blood off of himself. “As Rex improves, these problems will happen less often. The only solution is to train him more.”

Holiday scoffed and wiped at his chest and shoulders with a wet cloth. She knew he was right, but she didn’t want him to be. There had to be another solution…or at least something that could help. Six was getting hurt much too often and Rex was going to get even more anxious because of it. An even more anxious Rex led to even more mistakes, which led to even more injuries for Six.

She turned around and Six decided he was going to get dressed again. He’d started keeping a spare suit in Holiday’s lab for occasions just like this - she’d objected at first, but relented by the fourth time he’d walked in with a torn shirt.

He grabbed his spare shirt and jacket from the closet and quickly tugged them on. His skin was still stinging from the wounds - if he shared that fact with Holiday, he had no doubt she would send him off to one of the nurses. No, the stinging would stop eventually. And Six would be asleep by then.

“Thank you, Doctor,” he muttered as he tugged on the lapels. “I’ll try to be more careful next time.”

Holiday glared at him once more as he walked out the door, not bothering to respond. She had a lot of thoughts going through her head - particularly thoughts about how Six could protect himself better. He didn’t like change and he didn’t like anything to be disruptive to his usual fighting methods. But she was an engineer. She could make something for him! He’d never use any kind of shield, she was sure of that. A forcefield belt had potential to be useful, but it also had potential to get in the way.

She grabbed a notepad and pencil from her desk, tapping the pencil angrily. Maybe she’d need to talk to some other designers for ideas - she was already spread so thin it would be a bad idea to take on another project by herself.

“Hey Doc!”

Holiday glanced at the door where Six had just exited, seeing a nervous Rex pop his head in instead. “Rex. How are you feeling?”

He smiled awkwardly and walked further into the room, hands behind his back. “I’m okay. Is Six better now?”

“He’s fine,” she answered with a shrug. “You know Six. A few little scratches don’t bother him.”

Rex scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I know. I still feel really bad about it, though.”

Holiday stopped tapping her pencil against the notebook, frowning. She hated seeing Rex look so upset, like he knew he’d done something wrong and no one was telling him how to fix it. She had no doubt that Six yelled at him already, maybe White Knight, too. “Well…I heard you were working on a new build. How’s that going?”

“Oh yeah, my BFS!” Rex said happily. “It’s really cool, do you wanna see?”

“BFS…” Holiday muttered, trying to figure out what that could possibly stand for. “Just be careful, alright? Don’t knock anything over.”

He nodded and took a deep breath, gathering his focus. Then suddenly his right hand transformed into a gigantic orange sword. It was taller and wider than the rest of Rex’s body and it looked very, very heavy.

Holiday’s heart stopped beating for a moment and she glanced down at her blank notepad. Oh boy.

“Isn’t it cool, Doc?” Rex shouted over the sound of him deactivating the sword. “Six seems to really like it, but I think that’s just ‘cause he likes swords so much.”

“It’s…very cool.” She didn’t really know how to react to it. Rex making more builds was good, it showed that he was getting better at controlling his powers. But that thing was scary-looking in a small space. 

Though…He was right. Six did like swords a lot. Maybe that was a better angle for her to look into.

She stared at Rex, hand to her chin in thought, and he stared back at her like she had two heads.

“Dr. Holiday?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Rex touched his face anxiously. “Is there something on me?”

“No, you’re fine.” Holiday wrote something down and put the notepad to the side. “Can you build your, uh, Smack Hands for me? I’d like to do some quick tests.”

x

“Six? Are you there?”

He sat up instantly at the sound of Holiday’s voice, barely awake enough to register where it was coming from. He took a second to open his eyes and collect his bearings before getting up and pressing his hand against the intercom on his wall.

“I’m here. What’s going on?”

“Can you come to my lab? I’d, um…like to show you something.”

Six raised a curious eyebrow. What?

“I need your input on a design.”

“...you do?” He was very confused. Was he actually awake? Assuming she was talking about something mechanical, she couldn’t possibly think he had any helpful insights. He was not an engineer by any means.

“Yes. Just come down here.”

With that, she was gone, and Six stood there to stew in his thoughts. He walked to his closet and grabbed another shirt, annoyed that it was his third one of the day. What could Holiday possibly want his input on? The only thing that would make sense was a weapon. In the few times he’d seen her in the Petting Zoo, Holiday exclusively favored guns. If she was trying to find something new for herself, he’d support that. But she worked well with guns so he didn’t see the need.

He brushed his teeth and checked himself in the mirror before heading to her lab, still wondering what this could possibly be about. There was always the possibility she was trying to create some sort of shielding device for him, which he would reject immediately. Those things were clunky and got in the way of his work. He needed to be stealthy and smooth and fast at all times.

Six entered Holiday’s lab quietly, greeted by the image of her at her desk writing something down very aggressively. Or passionately. She was very invested in whatever it was, and he assumed it was what she called him in for.

“Holiday.”

She looked up, surprised. Six didn’t like how easily he could sneak up on her. If he could do it, so could an enemy. Maybe he’d have to give her some training as well.

“Hi!” she squeaked out uncharacteristically. She stood and held up a hand like she was about to speak, then suddenly turned towards the desk to write something else down. “Okay. Alright. Six, I need you to keep an open mind about this.”

He walked closer to her cautiously, a little worried he was about to upset her. “What is it?”

“It’s…” Holiday flattened out the paper she was working on, which had a stapler and a tape dispenser on the upper corners to hold it down. “It’s this! I don’t know. Just take a look and tell me what you think.”

Six frowned and leaned forward, trying not to get too much in the doctor’s personal space. He was taking a look, just like she requested, and he was a bit confused. It was weapon schematics, something he’d considered on his way to the lab, but they were swords. A pair of swords with some very interesting features - mostly the fact that when attached at the hilt, they’d emit a magnetic pulse.

His first thought was that they looked very, very cool. But he wasn’t a teenager, so that wasn’t going to be the first thing out of his mouth.

“I’ve been using my katana for over twenty years, Doctor.”

She pouted, not looking at him directly. “I know, I know. It’s just…Rex showed me some of his builds earlier and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maybe two swords at once is weird, I’m not an expert on this kind of thing. But I thought-”

“Can you guarantee that they’ll work on Rex’s builds?”

Holiday turned to look at Six, not realizing how close his face was to her own. But she didn’t want to back down on this concept and she needed to stand tall, whether he interrupted her or not. “Yes. I know what I’m doing, I promise.”

Six glanced between her face (closer to his than it should’ve been, but he was going to ignore that) and the schematics. He didn’t feel comfortable expressing excitement, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t want to use those swords immediately. Instead, he just stared at the paper again, taking in every inch of the design.

“It’s alright if you don’t -”

“Make them,” he said finally, looking back up at her. “Do it.”

“Really?” Holiday’s face lit up in the brightest smile. “Are you sure? You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” Six smiled slightly, hands still in his pockets as he stood in front of her. “Can you add the option to form them together into a staff? Could be very useful.”

“Yes, absolutely! Thank God,” Holiday breathed out and suddenly she was leaning into him, her forehead against his sternum and hands laying on his shoulder blades. She stayed like that for barely a second before pulling her head back and patting his chest with flat palms. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just excited about this.”

“It’s fine.” Six tried not to focus too much on the feeling of her hands on his chest. He tried not to focus too much on how radiant she looked at that moment or how nice she smelled. And he was really, really trying not to focus on the unmistakable flutter of his heart when she said she was excited. Entirely from scratch, from her brilliant, beautiful brain, she designed him a new set of weapons that looked useful and valuable and interesting and no one had ever done anything like that for him before. Of course, he’d never been so close to a scientist before, but he didn’t think this was normal. Holiday was special.

She was kind and intelligent and perceptive and the way her nose crinkled when she smiled up at him was obscenely cute and he was realizing in that very moment that he was sunk. Six had been avoiding thinking about Holiday in that…way, knowing full well he was attracted to her but not wanting to deal with anything beyond that. At that moment, however, he knew he couldn’t deny it anymore. The unshakable urge to kiss her - stronger than he’d ever had the urge before in his entire goddamn life - was not going away anytime soon. He was absolutely and completely falling for her and there was no going back from it now.

He felt the little flutter in his chest again. That needed to stop. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he said in his usual monotone, not even realizing he’d spoken out loud.

Holiday looked surprised at him and nervously tugged some hair behind her ear. “Well…it’s not just for you. It’ll be helpful for Rex, too. But…you’re welcome.”

Six’s heart was thumping loudly in his chest. He really wanted to kiss her. He would not be doing that.

“Plus it’ll be nice to have less of your blood on my floor,” she added with a smirk and a wink.

He raised an eyebrow at that comment, returning her smirk with one of his own. “So this is all a ruse to get me to spend less time in your lab?”

She blushed, completely taken off-guard by that question. “Wh- no, obviously I-I mean. Six. You know what I meant.” Holiday glared up at him, fingers combing through her bangs.

Yes, he did know what she meant. But he saw an opportunity to make her blush and took it. Which he would probably be annoyed at himself for later. For the moment, he was going to enjoy it. “How long until they’ll be ready?”

“Um…it’ll be a while,” she answered with a sudden lack of confidence. “Design, build, testing, more testing. Redesign, rebuild, more testing. Plus my actual work takes up a lot of time. Don’t hold your breath that they’re coming anytime soon, alright?”

He nodded. “I can wait.”

Holiday smiled at him and gave him a tiny little shove towards the door. “I’ve got a free evening so the faster you leave, the faster I can start on this.”

A small part of Six was struck by guilt - he hadn’t even realized this would be a project to work on in her free time. The very, very little free time she had, she’d be spending on a gift for him. He’d never know what he did in life to deserve someone like her.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

She put a hand on her hip. “If you really want to thank me, you can go get me some coffee.”

Six nodded at that, quickly leaving the room to do as she asked. It was the least he could do, considering what she was doing for him. The amount of time she was giving up for him. Especially after he’d watched White Knight rip into her just a few days earlier and didn’t say a thing about it.

Maybe he’d just steal the first coffee machine he saw and bring it to her lab. That’d be a good start.

[gggoblin123456]

Despair never felt so good.

When I broke out of my own skin the sun glared down at me like an angry eye. I burn before I bronze, so I turned and chased the moon down into the pool that sits over the horizon. At the bottom all I could see was the red crater which adorns the moon's eye--a beauty mark I've seen my whole life, but I'd never considered: how did she feel about it, standing up there in front of smoke-hazed crowds and loving wanderers who hum the same tone as the pitched ringing in their ears and let the smell of desire lead them back home? I've walked that desert in ragged shoes and bandages, through playgrounds emptied out of voices and tetherballs who felt the heat of one hand scrambling to find the end of the rope. She (the moon) hung over my shoulder, watching me practice diplomacy between the grass and the children who didn't speak their tongue. There's nothing I would have rather done than lasso her and bring her down to earth: one last, all-consuming hug. Link said nothing as the moon came down at the end of her Three Days, so I stayed obediently silent and quizzed myself: is this the first day? The second? The third? And I'd look up, blaming, as she sat high on her stool at the back of the stage, unmoving. The sun earned my adoration out of necessity: if I couldn't have her, then I couldn't have anything. I stood and let the fire baptize my retinas. Yeah, got shoved down and yelled at more than once for each eye. My vision grew extradimensional, the appleskin of reality peeling back to reveal the Everlasting Palace whose banners and halls extend through reflecting windows forever. I imagined a fine face would one day appear in that window, gazing with longing; a savior. But the only face I saw was my own staring back at me through the glass of a dim lit upstairs bathroom suspended in the rain, nose and chin, eyes and hair hidden behind the headlight glare of the sun's hot fingers skewered through my pupils. You can't shower off vice, but the new moon will rest weary eyes. Her light shines for someone else behind a silvery cloud. I guess that's the hardest thing about love. It doesn't wrap around like a mother's large arm--the messenger rains down, sprinkling only the surface. A kiss. Another. Another. Another. Another….

[soulmate-game]

Daughter of wonderwoman au where marinette finds out her mother is actually Diana and somehow it ends up with her meeting/being introduced to the batfam maybe because she has super strength and is seen yeeting some bad guys who tried to mug her... Or something.

“... you are running from your problems, Mari,” Adrien’s exasperated voice reminded his best friend. Again. She ignored him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have to do anything about it! Nobody would hold it against you if you decided to just, ignore that you found anything out at all. But you need to actually think about what we just found out and decide whether or not you’re gonna do anything—“ he side-stepped a piece of trash that went flying in his direction. “—or if you’re gonna move on and pretend nothing happened.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Marinette shot back, pushing her bangs out of her face and tying her hair back with one hand.

“No, you’re currently hiding away in Gotham to avoid your parents while you beat up every random group of idiots who thinks you’re an easy mark,” he retorted. Another wannabe kidnapper went flying in his direction, making him sigh and side step again. She had thrown that one with only her one free hand, showing just how upset she was. “You’re ignoring everything in your life, which is not what we meant we said you should get a little space.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette dropkicked the last criminal into unconsciousness before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at the now seven passed out men in the alleyway, and the one very frustrated ex-model pinching the bride of his nose. “I think I’m coping just fine.”

“It’s better than being forced to suppress all of your emotions, sure,” Adrien reluctantly agreed. “But not by much. Your angry rampage through Gotham has already attracted more attention,” he raised his hand to point at a nearby rooftop. Several shadows lurked there, looming over the building’s edge. “Which, might I add, is exactly why I told you not to come to Gotham.”

“You’re the one who followed me here,” she shot back before turning to the shadowy figures above them. “Go ahead and come down! But it was self defense, and you can’t arrest or beat me up for defending myself!”

The first figure to drop down straightened your just as quickly, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Batman himself. The little white eyes on his cowl seemed to narrow on their own as he looked down at her.

“That might be true, but I’m sure you know my policy on metas in my city,” he grumbled back at her. He wasn’t necessarily threatening, but he definitely wasn’t welcoming either. With all of his limbs hidden behind the cocoon that was his cape, Marinette would never be able to predict his next move if he did decide to fight. Not that she seemed particularly worried about that as she crossed her arms over her chest and met his glare evenly.

“Oh, do you own this city now? I wasn’t given the memo,” she retorted. “And considering I didn’t even know I was a meta until last week? I think I deserve a little slack. I’m angry and if people think the tiny little girl in pink is an easy kidnapping target, then it’s their fault for making themselves into the perfect practice dummies for me to try out my newly discovered strength on.”

Adrien saw the eyes on Batman’s mask narrow even further. Marinette wasn’t exactly at her most charismatic at the moment, and Adrien didn’t wanna get the both of them into a bad relationship with the experienced superhero who always seemed to know things he shouldn’t know. So he stepped up quickly, getting in between Marinette and the Bat and holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Okay, Monsieur Batman,” Adrien started slowly, making sure his posture was impeccable and his smile bright. “She’s telling the truth, even if she’s not... the most tactful about it right now. She just found out some very concerning things about her origin and Gotham is the best place for her to hide from her problems and let loose a little pent up aggression. But— well,” he grimaced. “We didn’t intend to run into you guys, but maybe it’s a good thing we did.”

“How so?” Batman was clearly still incredibly suspicious of the both of them and wasn’t giving an inch. So Marinette rolled her eyes (she was still very moody) and leaned around Adrien so she could get a good look at the monochromatic hero.

“I thank my lucky spots that we ran into you, Batman!” She said monotonously. “Me and Adrien are paw-sitively excited at this opportunity.”

Batman. Froze.

Not only were those two lines the very first lines ever spoken to him by two foreign heroes a few years ago (with a few key words changed to protect identities), but they had become their code phrase for whenever they made calls to one another outside of their costumes. All at once it seemed to hit him— the golden hair and bright green eyes on the boy, the blue-black hair and normally super-focused bluebell eyes on the girl that were currently sporting very uncharacteristic frustration. Their heights. Their builds. All of this info flowed through his mind and compared to the information stored in his memory, and it only took the span of two seconds for everything to click.

Suddenly Batman was at full attention, back straight instead of looming over them and eyebrows clearly raised high under his cowl.

He knew Chat Noir and Ladybug would never take a random vacation to Gotham. Ladybug herself had nearly waxed poetic about how much the city depressed her just from the pictures she saw online. If she had willingly come to visit, it was more than to just blow off some steam.

“Batcave?” He asked, earning a relieved look from Adrien and a moody silence from Marinette.

“Please,” Adrien agreed. “You can probably help us, actually.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette leaned back in the metal debriefing chair, legs up on the table and looking for all the world as the picture of pure teenage rebellion and angst. Coincidentally, Red Hood was in the exact same position in the chair next to her.

Batman and all of his other bats and birds were in the cave with the two off-duty Parisian heroes. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette still had their masks on, since the two Parisians were still not privy to their identities. Yet.

To be fair, the bats hadn’t known the identities of the two miraculous users either before today.

“Cha Noir,” Batman started, only to get a head shake from the blond boy.

“Just call me Adrien. Chat’s out of the bag—“ he ignored the groans at the pun and soldiered on, “—so might as well use my real name.”

Batman nodded. “Adrien, then,” he amended. “Why are you and Ladybug really in Gotham?”

Adrien sighed. “I wasn’t lying, before. Marinette,” he gestured to his hero partner. “Just found out some distressing family news. Since HawkMoth is gone, she doesn’t need to repress her negative emotions anymore. But she also didn’t want to be around her parents while she processed everything. I told her to choose any other city— really, I begged— but she insisted on coming to Gotham.”

“The never ending cloud cover and constant rain seem thematic,” she finally spoke up, reaching into her big over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out a large envelope. She threw it to Batman, making the thin package slice through the air like a knife. To nobody’s surprise the seasoned hero easily caught the projectile between two fingers. He looked at the envelope and back to Marinette, silent questions floating in the air between them. Marinette decided to answer at her own pace.

“That’s what we found out. You see, one of my friends is a huge science nerd. A genius. And he wanted to compare DNA samples between us to see if there were any genetic components that determined a person’s suitability towards certain Miraculous or other magical artifacts over others. It was supposed to just be a fun side project that he didn’t expect any breakthroughs on. He mostly just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. But instead of finding out if our DNA was linked to the miraculous, he found out that my parents are not biologically my parents.”

“Hence the whole just finding out that you’re a meta thing, right?” Nightwing spoke up, fully invested in the story. “Did they never say you were adopted before?”

“It’s not in the system,” she replied easily. “My parents have all the documentation to prove that I’m their biological child, except I’m not. When I confronted them about it, they caved and admitted that they had adopted me in secret and covered it up. Apparently a friend of theirs was involved in something illegal, and,” she waved at the envelope that Batman was now opening. “The details of what we were able to dig up are in there. The summary is this; their friend was part of a secret, illegal experimentation to create clones that could defeat the Justice League—“ the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as soon as those words left Marinette’s mouth. Everyone seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “—a group called CADMUS. They made me, as apparently one of their early attempts. But I didn’t exhibit any of the powers they were looking for, or any meta traits at all, and my body refused to mature at the rate they wanted. They had no use for a seemingly normal human baby that they managed to clone, so they were preparing to kill me and start over. That’s when my parent’s friend stole me, not wanting to kill an infant, and begged my parents to take me in and pretend I was theirs. Low and behold, it turns out that my DNA just needed a very specific series of emotions to unlock it’s latent abilities.”

“Those emotions being..?” Red hood trailed off, earning a wolfish smile from Marinette.

“Intense anger, betrayal, and confused frustration closely followed by the desire to punch other people’s faces in.”

“That last one is just an assumption,” Adrien chimed in. “And maybe not accurate. But the first three, our scientist friend was able to confirm. The rapid experience of a lot of negative but action-oriented emotions released whatever had been holding back the powers in her DNA from expressing themselves,” he had switched to French so that he could explain everything exactly as Max had told it to them, but he knew all of them were fluent anyway so it was fine. They nodded along, processing the information.

The crinkling of paper drew everyone’s attention back to Batman, who had been flipping through the detailed break down of everything they had found about Marinette’s situation and how she was made by CADMUS.

“Uh,” Red Robin nervously spoke up. “What’s up, Batman?”

“Your genetic donors...” Batman breathed, getting a wink and finger guns from Marinette.

“Yup. Isn’t that just the most fucked up thing you’ve ever seen? They were clearly trying to make someone who could destroy the world.”

“That makes me nervous,” Nightwing admitted, getting up and going to get a look at the papers himself. “It can’t be that ba—“

When even Nightwing was left agape, everyone else who wasn’t in on it found themselves squirming.

“Just tell the rest of us, already!” Robin demanded after the silence stretched just a bit too long.

“The unknowing genetic donors that CADMUS used to make me,” Marinette spoke up, still with her legs up on the table. “Are a very mad-scientist’s-wet-dream combination of Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Wonder Woman.”

“We don’t even know why they added Bruce Wayne’s DNA,” Adrien admitted. “Although our scientist friend thinks it’s because of physique. His hypothesis is that, in order to support the genes of Wonder Woman, they had to add male genetics that could support the production of a very high muscle mass and would lean towards easy development of a very athletic body. Lex might be evil-scientist smart, but he’s a string bean. But if he added the DNA of another multi millionaire who just so happens to maintain a ridiculously fit body without putting any obvious work into it,” Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe the clone would be able to support Wonder Woman’s genetics and that of two human donors without falling apart.”

“So I’m ‘the clone’ now, huh?” Marinette snarked, earning an exasperated eye roll from her friend.

Batman just stared at the both of them for a moment. He walked away without a word, and came back with a fresh needle and a box. He placed it on the debriefing table.

“Can I do a paternity test myself?” He asked, his voice suspiciously less gruff than normal. “I trust the both of you, but I rather be safe than sorry with something like this.”

The both of them just stared at him in confusion. They traded a glance, and finally Marinette shrugged and moved to sit in her chair properly. Her shirt was already short sleeved, so she just held her arm out so Batman could easily get a blood sample.

“Sure, why not. But do you just have Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne’s DNA sitting around to compare, or—“ she shut up when she watched Batman take off his glove and roll his own sleeve up. Realization slowly sunk in as he asked Nightwing to take a blood sample from him.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide. “You’re— and Luthor doesn’t know— holy shit this is even worse than I thought,” Marinette rambled, not even noticing as Red Hood moved forward and took a small blood sample from her.

Adrien put a hand over his face and just laughed for a moment hysterically. “Oh my god,” he looked over at Marinette. “You could take over the world.”

“I have the blood of Batman AND Wonder Woman on MY side,” Marinette joked back, also hysterical.

When the bat’s high tech equipment was able to come back with a positive result only a few minutes later, Marinette and Adrien had to sit on the floor and just let it all sink in. Which Batman did not at all help by immediately unmasking himself and trying to make a proper introduction.

“I wanna go beat up random thugs again,” Marinette whined, pulling at her hair. “I’ll put on a mask, whatever, but just please let me punch people. I need to punch people right now.”

[nctdreamcokr]

˗ˏˋ 6TH HAPPY DREAM DAY ´ˎ˗

ignore how uncoordinated the pictures look, just appreciate how her fit matches with theirs. :’) — aia

cue yanna entering with her backpack, being forced to link arms with renjun by haechan while he screams “power couple” like a whole fan.

she shares a seat with jisung while the others talk about their keyrings and discuss how the past 6 years have been.

“i want a comeback in a gown…”

haechan: alright, we’ll do that.

cue her laughing and flashing him finger hearts.

jisung and her whispering before she rests her chin on his shoulder.

“ridin’ was really… i really enjoyed that.”

as they took pictures to add to the photo album, she stood beside jaemin like in the original photos.

haechan and her hugging as they both said the picture was cute.

as they returned to their seats, they brought up the awards they made for each other and a lot of them said they’re looking forward to yanna’s.

cue her glaring because they were only saying that ‘cause she cried while writing the awards.

she shared the same seat with chenle and took the awards from her bag, listening in on the awards.

haechan’s award for yanna: ice princess award)

message: our yanna who often shows a scary and intimidating front but always showers her members with affection and love. honestly, other people would be jealous with how much you value and care for your team but i don’t care. you’re mine~… and renjun’s. they may see you as cold, but those are only the ones who never made an effort to get to know you well. i’m glad i did.

she presses a kiss on the paper haechan wrote on before putting it inside her folder.

mark’s award for yanna: 너 같은 사람 빛나는 항 상 (you who shines always)

message: you’re a star wherever you are, ae-cha. and you’re one of those that don’t just blind the others with how they shine, you simply highlight them enough for them to twinkle the same way you do.

the two high-fived and patted each other’s back as the members said it was sweet.

renjun’s award for yanna: 家 상 (home(in chinese) award)

message: it seems like it doesn’t make sense, but it does. are you aware that you’ve lived in three different places all members of dream has lived in as well? new york, korea and china. maybe that’s why you’re able to imitate the feeling of “home” for us. i can’t say the same about everyone, honestly, but even though i rarely go home to my family you give me that feeling still just by being with you. in the future, you’ll continue being my home. :)

cue chenle squealing after renjun passed the paper towards yanna.

yanna starts tearing up at the awards, literally laying the side of her head on chenle’s shoulder who kept quiet about her eyes turning red as the others continued receiving and giving out their awards.

jeno’s award for yanna: category: 네 뺨에 내려앉은 달빛도 annoying me, name: ae-cha

message: your favorite line from me describes you, but i’m only focused on the last part. you, really, you’re the most annoying person in my life. that doesn’t mean i want you to leave me alone. never leave, ae-cha. bleh.

“CUTE~”

chenle’s award for yanna: weakhearted award

message: this isn’t a bad thing, it just makes me want to take care of you. hard on the outside, but be honest.. you lack courage, right? i like it. because when you feel scared, you run to me. it makes me feel special to see that i’m who you run to when you feel afraid to make decisions. that no matter how brave people think you are, you choose me to give you small pushes and trust me every single time. i’ll stay as reliable as i can so you can keep trusting me~

chenle immediately hugged her as she was reading and only nodded, telling her she doesn’t have to say anything.

she was then asked to give away her awards, to which she immediately nodded at and checked them one by one.

yanna’s award for mark: bookmark award

message: it’s not because of your name, hyung. it’s because you’re a reminder of every chapter i’ve been through and every chapter that’s coming, like a bookmark is to the reader of a book. if it weren’t for you, none of the things i enjoy would’ve been possible. so, i thank you for letting me sing with you 7 years ago. <3

cue yanna passing the award to him awkwardly.

yanna’s award for jeno: greatest pretender award

message: you care about us, but you act nonchalant about it. you say we’re a pain, but you wholeheartedly give us care anyways. your stage presence is sexy, but you’re the cutest. and the members you seem like you can’t stand the most, are actually the ones you love the most. example? me, chenle, jaemin and your love jisung hahaha. don’t hide it anymore, lee jeno.~ but it’s okay, i’ll continue to accept your love no matter how you show it.

“i added a puppy drawing, look.”

yanna’s award for haechan: cheese award

message: everytime i need to smile, i turn to you. i look for you and talk to you. we’ve been closer these days, but i’ve always called you “cheese”. because like when asked to smile, people say “say cheese” and that’s how you are as well. but, these days it’s also because cheese is my favorite. like you. you don’t need to make me smile, haechan-ah. it automatically happens when i see you happy.

haechan: you’re my favorite too.

yanna’s award for chenle: GOAT award

message: our chenle, you’re the greatest of all time. hehe, i still remember when you learned that with the hyungs.~ honestly, everything about you amazes me. you don’t even understand. how do i say this… you’re admirable, chenle.

chenle: a—i—go~

yanna’s award for jaemin: jaemin award

messages: jaemin, there’s no one like you. you’re the best at being you, which is being naturally funny, doting, kind and handsome. you act like you don’t care because you do everything in your capacity to not let anything happen to us beforehand. i caught you! but seriously, jaemin-ah, being you is what makes everyone love you. love you!

jaemin quietly keeping the paper before doing her handshake with yanna.

also cue haechan giving yanna his award back for her to add “love you!” on his as well.

yanna’s award for jisung: we go up award

message: jisung-ah, are you aware of how much you’ve grown? how did you go from being a main dancer to having such a good singing voice to the point that you can cover lines for vocalists? your dancing as well, it doesn’t become repetitive. you just improve even more. you always go up, jisung. and i’m proud of you. because even when you’re already the highest(height), you still aim to reach greater heights. you’re already doing well yet you never stop learning. you inspire me to do the same, that’s why i hope i can go up with you.

jisung saying that was nice and also getting embarrassed that yanna pointed all that out.

yanna’s award for renjun: 似水流年 상 (years flow away like water award)

message: we read those lines together in a book, and it applies to you. why? time has passed by and we didn’t even notice, you’ve become someone entirely different to me than who you were 6 years ago. but when i think of you, it doesn’t seem that long. because you’ve always been someone i can depend on as a friend and member, just now… it’s quite different. hehe. years flow away like water, but your love for dream never wavers.

as yanna gives renjun the paper after reading it, jeno reads it with him for the second time and brings up yanna left out the last part to which the boy agreed not to read out loud too. (later on weibo, he reveals it though)

jisung’s award for yanna: SM award

he asks her to read it because he was embarrassed. but also cue yanna going “SM?!”

message: to the one person in the world who never goes against me, except when i wanted to go on an ice hotel. honestly… you know this, right? you mean the world to me. i hope renjun-hyung doesn’t get upset ㅋㅋㅋ. but seriously, we always lean on each other when we’re having a hard time and we talk about it wholeheartedly even with tears in our eyes. without you, who in the group would i have the courage to do that with? i feel like it’d be heavy all the time, honestly. you’re always doing great but that’s what you tell me as well so i’m giving you the SoulMate award. to 0502, from 0205.

yanna upset at jaemin’s award because he called them “handsome” but then he pulls out one more paper for her that says “pretty” which was only addressed to her.

as the group came up with a promise, she supported the idea of them saying “i miss you” everytime they meet for the first time.

“IT’S CUTE.”

visibly annoyed that they chose the “gyu~” aegyo instead, she literally groaned when chenle did it in front of her before sitting on the sofa to stop her protests.

as she was asked to do it on her own, jeno instructed her properly and even asked her to stand behind the couch so they could all see.

towards the end, she scooped her white bear emoji with the cake and licked on the icing.

“6th anniversary, congratulations!”

[palaceofpassion]

Alright we are getting closer to the next round so let us pick Reese next. Truth she will have to talk about the best and worst thing she has done in her school. Dare she will have to drink a whole bottle and then backflip five times. Not even stupid dares like this one so time to fix it.

Master Link

We have not.

Once May was done with her ears, Velvet began to simply stroke them back into tiptop shape. Her attention now was on the rest of the group. There were so many people she could pick from, an example being Blake... but she wasn't willing to hit that hornet's nest just yet.

So taking a safer route she brought her attention to one of the other girls.

"Reese, truth or dare."

"Hit me with that dare! I can take it!"

"Okay well..." She pondered the idea, "We are getting closer to being done with the first round, how about we do something a bit silly. Reese, I dare you to down a whole can, then backflip three times."

Several people grew worried, "Okay that doesn't seem like a-"

"Hell yeah! Let me at it!" Being the ever daredevil that she was, Reese was all aboard that action.

Before Sun could even throw the can at her, she was on it, grabbing it from his hand and downing it instant. "Mmm~ That's the good stuff."

Several people started to get worried, "Should we have a fail safe?"

"Don't sweat it Weiss! I got aura, I can handle it!"

"Yes but that doesn't mean it'll protect you from everything."

Jaune rose his hand, "Just in case, should I top her off?"

"Top me off?" That got a confused look from not only Reese, but just about everyone that wasn't part of Team RWBY or JNPR.

"Oh oh oh oh! Jaune-Jaune unlocked his semblance recently."

"Yeah its super cool! He used it when Weiss got really hurt that one time!"

Though Pyrrha held back a biting remark, she was still jealous that he'd unlocked it helping Weiss of all people. Though... she was just thankful he'd moved on.

As for the heiress, who attempted to put that memory behind her, she was currently blushing lightly at . "It is a rather pleasant feeling..." She tried to keep her face down to avoid eanyone getting suspicious of the bright red blush.

While this worked on most people, Neptune however couldn't help but give her a solid glare for a moment, suspicions getting the better of him.

"Suuure dude! Hit me!"

"Okay, lemme know if it feels weird or not."

Jaune took a step forward, his hand pressed against her shoulder. In an instant a soft golden glow began to intertwine with the pale green that coated her body.

"Holy-" She had no other words for it, other than it felt amazing. Like someone was there protecting her at all times. A warm fuzzy feeling lit within her heart, her already high level of courage increasing even further. She felt like she could do anything.

"Wow, thanks man."

"Yep, still becareful though."

Reese gave Jaune a muted nod as he sat down, taking her position in the middle she started.

The first one proved to be the trickiest, the height had been just a bit higher than she'd meant it to be, her new found strength proving just a little overwhelming. With this one she'd completely missed the mark and slipped, landing on her ass.

"I'm okay!"

Thankfully no serious damage happened.

The second one was also a bit of a flop, but this time she almost landed perfectly.

The third one was better, this time making sure she hit her feet right.

The forth and fifth went with out issue. "Tada!"

A round of applause followed.

"Wait a moment!" Neon spoke up, "You don't seem drunk."

"Well yeah man. I have a high alcohol tolerance, one can isn't going to do diddly squat to me! Speaking, Wukong! HIt me with another!"

Sun did as he was told, instantly tossing her another can.

"Aww yeah~ Well I know who I'm going to pick, just to round this out nicely."

Reese brought her attention to Blake and Smiled, "Your turn pussy cat!"

[aries-writingblog]

Brave Enough

Summary: Bucky wonders if he’ll ever be brave enough to admit his feelings to you

Words Count: 1980- ish (I got a little carried away- sorry!!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, characters engaging of age drinking

A/N: gif is not my own, credit to original creator. Happy reading!!

“Bucky, lighten up, man.” Steve griped, flicking through the menu. The brunette didn’t respond, just slumping down lower in his chair and sulking even more. A deep frown etched onto his features. “It’s just a couple hours.”

“Whatever.” He snipped. Bucky could feel his teeth grit together, his jaw aching from pressure. Sam’s foot connected with his under the table, a teasing tilt to his eyebrows.

“He’s just mad that he has to be here instead of lurking ‘round in the shadows back home.” Sam nudged his foot again. Bucky kicked out, but Sam was too quick. Pulling his foot away just in time. “You ever catch him at like three in the morning, just standing around in a dark hallway?”

“Shut up.” Bucky hissed, snatching a spoon from his place setting. The utensil flew across the table, smacking Sam in the chest before falling to his lap. “And I’m not mad I have to be here.”

He truly wasn’t upset he had to be there. He was upset that one person in particular wouldn’t be in attendance. YN was still off on a mission, unfortunately missing Wanda’s birthday dinner. Without her, Bucky would just spend the whole night sulking, no one else treated him the way she did. No one else was her. Without her, his night was already marked as uneventful and boring.

“You are.” Steve corrected, glancing to his watch. “The girls should be here by now. What’s holding them?”

Bucky glanced around the restaurant, eyes scanning over Tony who was animatedly speaking with the owner. Bruce, retuning from the restroom, Peter following him with a million questions. The older man seemed to age further as the teen pestered him- asking questions ranging from science to personal. The kid could be slightly invasive at times.

The door opened- the other half of their party. The birthday girl. Wanda made her way across the room, Natasha behind her and…

“YN.” Bucky felt a weight lift from his chest- possibly his reluctance to be at the table. He watched as she gave him a small smile and wave before Wanda pulled her off to the bathroom.

“Save me a seat!” YN called, meeting Bucky’s eyes. His eyes followed her all the way, until he could no longer see her. Then he was brought back into reality by a cough.

Fuck- he did that in public. His eyes fell to Steve and Sam, their faces schooled into expressions of taunting delight.

“You gonna save her a seat or what?” Steve asked, lips twitching as they begged to smile. Bucky flicked his wrist, giving his friend a very classy middle finger as they snickered in response.

But Bucky did as she said. He unfolded the napkin at the place mat on his right, showing someone was going to sit there. Then he tucked his hands into his lap, waiting anxiously for her return. Sam pursed his lips, leaning his elbows on the table. Bucky groaned, regretting his decision to stay out when Sam sat across from him.

“Won’t you just tell her you’re in love? It would be a lot easier.” He advised, fingers laced under his jaw. Bucky scowled, his foot finally catching Sam off guard, foot connecting with his shin bone. The man cursed, jerking his chair back.

The bathroom door opened, the trio of women hustling toward the table. Natasha was shoving YN playfully, the woman responding with a laugh. Then she turned her eyes to him and he stopped breathing. Stopped living. Oxygen leaving his lungs at an exponential rate when she smiled. Teeth flashing.

“Got a seat for me, Barnes?” She asked- the sound of her voice snapping his consciousness back into the present. Bucky stumbled over himself clumsily, shoving his own chair back to pull hers out for her. “Thank you.” He pushed her back in before taking his own.

“I thought you were still in Arizona?” He kept a constant tab in his brain to focus. There had been several occasions when the pair were carrying a conversation and he noticed, too late, he had just been staring into her eyes. He didn’t mean to- it just happened.

“Just landed. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner I was back- Wanda begged me to come tonight so I had to rush to get dressed.” She explained, giving a half hearted gesture to her clothes. Bucky saw nothing wrong with them- she looked beautiful as always.

“No worries. You look beautiful anyways.” Bucky smiled. He could see in the corner of his eye- Sam and Steve sharing a look across the table. Bucky always experienced these mood swings around YN.

If he was distraught, she was there to soothe him. If he was annoyed or angry, just seeing her face would brighten his day. If he was happy, which wasn’t too often without her being a catalyst, she only intensified that feeling.

Bucky had met YN three months into his stay at the Tower. They shared a wall- his apartment was the one beside hers. He didn’t know she was his neighbor the night she came stumbling home from a mission- exhausted and dirty. Dried blood on her hairline and a red path dripping from her nose. She didn’t notice him that night as he sat in the quiet common area of floor 48. She brushed past him and dug into the fridge. He watched her shove six slices of cold pizza onto a plate and snatch three beers before disappearing into her apartment.

Needless to say, he was intrigued. But he never spoke to her. Not until two months later, in the middle of the night. She happened upon him sitting in the quiet, wide awake and writing in his journal. She commented that she also journaled- sprinting back to her bedroom to bring back a leather bound journal covered in stickers. She then offered him some of his own stickers, pressing them to the black journal in his hands.

Four months of midnight meetings passed and Bucky was infatuated. He found himself wanting to speak to her all the time- going out of his way to find her and talk. Thinking of her all the time, linking an activity with her. Asking himself ‘I wonder what YN would think of…’ Sitting with her at meals, hanging out when she was home. If he could, Bucky would have her attached to his hip at all times.

When they were together, Bucky would go to any lengths necessary to keep her there longer. To take more of her time. For once in his life, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted her complete and undivided attention. Most times, he received it. She happily gave into him, pouring affection onto the super soldier. And he swam in it- unabashedly. Unashamed to be so intoxicated around her.

“Hey, what are you ordering?” YN whispered, leaning toward his

Bucky snapped back, again, noticing that everyone had taken a seat and began to order their meals. Her eyes were trained on him expectantly. YN had seen him lose focus and attempted to reel him back in. He always seemed to fade away, she noticed. She didn’t know where his mind went when it happened but she was a pessimist- she assumed the worst.

“Me- ordering?” Bucky stuttered, his tongue barely catching up with his mind. He winced as she gave a soft smile- another snicker coming from across the table. He shot a glance over to Sam, the biting glare garnered a snarky reply.

“Smooth.” Sam muttered, propping his menu in front his face, shielding it from Bucky’s wrath.

“Sam.” Steve scolded lightly, voice low. Bucky bit back his embarrassment, clearing his throat before responding. It was gonna be a long night.

~~~~~~

YN giggled again, swaying as Bucky latched an arm around her waist. Keeping her upright. It was a struggle- she was very touchy when she was tipsy. Bucky’s heart did jumping jacks, unsure if he should revel in the affection or be disappointed she was doing it while drunk.

“Oh- Bucky, what if we took Four Loko’s and, and… White Claws!” Her fingers wiggled as she spoke, eyes watery and wide. Bucky chuckled, his body unaccustomed to the motions.

“No more alcohol for you tonight, alright? You’re already gonna hate me in the morning for letting you drink so much.” He tugged her waist gently, allowing his fingers to rest on her hip. YN rested her head against his chest as the elevator slowed to a stop on their floor.

“I could never hate you, you know that, right?” She asked, eyes gazing up at him. Bucky heaved a gentle sigh, meeting her eyes. A soft smile on his lips.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The pair slowly exited the elevator, YN trying her best to break away from his grip. Her attention span was that of a mouse- hands reaching for things in the hallways and in the common area. Finally, they reached the set of doors belonging to them. He released her very carefully to dig through his pockets. YN had given him her spare key months ago, he had it on his key ring. She had it printed in a bright blue- the loudest color on the ring when compared to the black key of his motorcycle and the silver key of his apartment.

He didn’t really need the color distinction. There were only three keys there but hers was the most important one. He had it memorized the day she gave it to him.

“Hey Friday, unlock Bucky’s main door.”

“What? She can do that?” Bucky whipped around, catching a fleeting glimpse of her wobbling, unsteady body as she stumbled into his apartment. “Fuck.”

Bucky abandoned his task in favor of the new, more important task. Getting YN out of his apartment. He followed her at a quick pace, hand outstretched to snatch her wrist but she made an abrupt turn down his hallway. Toward his bedroom.

“YN!” He hissed, reaching for her again. She shoved the door open and made her way into the room. “What are you doing?”

“I wanted to see your apartment- you never let me in here when we hang out.” She murmured, eyes locking in on the bookshelf in the corner. She made a beeline to it, fingers tracing over the spines of the books. She reached for a book on the second shelf. The second shelf was dedicated to his old journals.

“Okay, maybe…” he gingerly broke her grasp on the book before she could open it, sliding it back into place. Bucky rested his hands on her shoulders, steering her out of the room. “We can do a tour when you’re a little more sober.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her there- Bucky wanted to show her everything, give her everything. But some part of himself kept pushing it all back, keeping her in the light. He didn’t want her to see the bad parts, and there were plenty. He was terrified she wouldn’t want his broken pieces if she saw them.

YN hummed, breaking from his grasp again. He sighed in defeat, letting her go. She tossed her phone to the rug and flopped face first into the bed. A sigh of content rushed from her lips as she snuggled deeper into the blankets.

“Your bed is sooo comfy…” Her voice was muffled by the thick comforter. “This isn’t fair- my bed isn’t this comfy.”

No one’s slept in it since it was purchased- Bucky but back the comment, deciding it wasn’t a good topic to broach. Considering the circumstances. He stood, watching her for a moment. Allowing her to take control for the time being. The smile from earlier began to creep onto his face as she snuggled deeper into the sheets- fully clothed.

“Alright- enough of that, YN. Let’s get you home.” He murmured, tugging on her ankle. She didn’t budge. Bucky stopped, looking up to her face. She was sound asleep. “YN?”

Nothing.

Bucky sighed.

He reached for her ankle again, unclipping the heels from her feet, allowing them to fall to the floor. He swung her legs around, tugging the blankets down on the bed. Bucky pulled them back over her body, reaching into her hair to pull it out of the tight bun she had it in. The hair tie around his wrist as he tucked her in.

“Goodnight, YN.” He whispered softly. Bucky hesitated, lips close to her temple. He could hear a faint snore coming from her throat, dark lashes resting against her cheekbones.

He allowed himself to carefully lean forward, lips pressing to her temple gently. Then he backed away quietly, turning the lights off as he exited. He couldn’t help himself- stealing another glance at her sleeping figure before closing the door. He also couldn’t help the bittersweet smile that tugged at his lips.

One day… one day I’ll be brave enough for you.

Read Part 2: Courageous

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 117

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 117: Are You Angry?

"So what about my stethoscope?"

Xiao Ji didn't seem scared at all of Lin Qiushi's suspicions, asking his question sharply in return.

"You used the stethoscope this morning, right?" Lin Qiushi asked.

Xiao Ji didn't answer yes or no; keenly, he'd detected that Lin Qiushi's question was a trap, so he didn't speak.

However, Xiao Mei sat beside him spoke up calmly: "Yes, he used the stethoscope to open a chest this morning. Someone else saw it too."

She pointed at a person in the crowd.

The person Xiao Mei was pointing to nodded, indicating that Xiao Mei wasn't lying.

"When I passed by the living room today I saw Xiao Ji opening a chest. He also used the stethoscope."

"Ah, so that means your stethoscope is currently operational?" Lin Qiushi said. "If there are no problems, may I have a look at it?"

With a scoff, Xiao Ji took the stethoscope from his neck and tossed it to Lin Qiushi.

"I'd like to see what you're trying to sell here."

Lin Qiushi took the stethoscope.

"Xiao Mei, you haven't eaten, right?"

Xiao Mei nodded, and spoke with indifference: "Yes. Xiao Ji heard a Hakobito yesterday, so I didn't eat anything."

This wasn't a strange turn of events, in fact was quite normal. The number of Hakobito had gradually increased, after all. It would be odder if, from the start until now, Xiao Ji had never encountered a Hakobito.

"Mh, if it can hear the Hakobito's movements, that means this stethoscope definitely works," Lin Qiushi said. "Let's give it a try then."

He put on the stethoscope and picked a random person beside him, pressing the stethoscope to his own chest[1]. As expected, the stethoscope that should've allowed him to hear something did not pick up any sounds; the end that went into the ears was completely silent.

"I can't hear anything," Lin Qiushi said. "You all can try it too."

He tossed the stethoscope to somebody else.

Another person picked up the stethoscope, and after carefully listening, confirmed that there was nothing audible inside.

Xiao Ji's expression went cold. He said, "you want me condemned based on just that?"

Lin Qiushi shrugged.

"Your stethoscope's broken, so how did you hear sounds from inside the chests?"

Xiao Ji lifted his chin.

"And here I thought you'd have some way to prove I'm guilty. Well sorry, but I've already tried it before. This stethoscope is special. It can't hear human heartbeats at all."

Lin Qiushi's lips curved up.

"Oh? You sure?"

Xiao Ji, "props inside the door are different from stuff outside to begin with. Yu Linlin, you're not thinking of besmirching me with this in order to take my stethoscope from me, are you?!"

He banged on the table violently, seemingly on the verge of a fit over being so wrongly accused.

Lin Qiushi asked, "you're sure that this stethoscope can't hear heartbeats, and that it's just a special item?"

"What? You saying you know my item better than me?"

Xiao Ji was locked in on this answer. After all, the stethoscope's always been on him. He could say whatever he wanted about it and nobody could do a thing.

But Lin Qiushi took the stethoscope back in hand with a sigh.

"What a shame. If you hadn't said that, I really don't know what I would've done."

And as he spoke, he began taking apart the stethoscope.

The earpieces on the stethoscope had metal rings that could be twisted off, with special sound-amplifying discs installed inside. However, when Lin Qiushi twisted one of the rings apart and removed the disc, everybody looking at the stethoscope grew shocked—because the space behind the disc had been stuffed with a wad of solid cotton, firmly blockading the path of sound transmission. Of course it hadn’t been able to hear a thing.

When Xiao Ji first saw the cotton, he froze. Then, expression drastically changing, he roared, "who said you could take my stethoscope apart—"

He lunged in front of Lin Qiushi, trying to take the stethoscope back, but Sun Yuanzhou, already standing ready beside him, held him back.

Xiao Ji saw that he could no longer get his hands on the stethoscope and began to cuss. It wasn’t difficult to see that the intensity of his reaction was weird.

Faced with Xiao Ji's threats and insults, Lin Qiushi remained impassive. He calmly removed the cotton and put the stethoscope back together. This time, with the stethoscope's amplifier placed on his chest, a heartbeat could be clearly and readily heard.

Lin Qiushi laughed, "this is what you used to distinguish whether a chest contained a box person? Very impressive."

Xiao Mei joined him with a sneer. Since the death of her lover, an irreversible change had taken place in her body that had completely expelled the awkwardness and timidity of a newbie and made her incomparably cold.

When he saw such an interaction between Lin Qiushi and Xiao Mei, Xiao Ji finally cottoned on, shooting Xiao Mei a vicious glare.

"You betrayed me?" he spat. "Fucking bitch—you stuffed my stethoscope with cotton?!"

Xiao Mei's arms wrapped around her chest as she watched Xiao Ji coolly.

"And what if I did?"

"Why the fuck did you sell me out??" Xiao Ji asked. "I'm the one who helped you kill Wei Xiude—"

At this, Xiao Mei began to laugh, loud and hard enough for tears to fall. She wiped the corners of her eyes and said, "are you that simple? You helped me? Weren't you just helping yourself? Besides…"

Her voice grew brutal, and her tone was like it wanted to tear a piece skin off Xiao Ji's body itself.

"The Hako Onna killed my lover, and you're working with her?! You deserve to die!!"  

Xiao Ji was panting, so angry that his eyes went red.

In order to prevent him from getting away, someone else fetched ropes and tied him down. Lin Qiushi put the stethoscope back together and set it on the table.

"Anything else you'd like to say?" he asked.

Xiao Ji gritted his teeth, and sneered.

"Hah, so what if it was me? Kill me if you can."

He truly hadn't been relying on the stethoscope to determine whether or not there were people in the chests, because he was required to open three chests per day and could only listen to the Hako Onna's directions when doing so in order to avoid any errors.

If he hadn't told them that the chest Xiao Mei wanted to open yesterday contained a Hakobito, he might have been able to make an argument for himself. The way things looked now though, these people seemed to have suspected him for a very long time.

"What a shame. You really think I can’t kill you?" Lin Qiushi stood up and walked in front of Xiao Ji, head down and staring. "There will be plenty of ways."

Xiao Ji first shivered at Lin Qiushi's gaze, but then grew angry at his own reaction. Teeth bared, he laughed,

"Hahahah, you're pathetic too! So what if you kill me? If you kill me your lover's going to come back to life? She's already dead—she died last night, the Hako Onna killed her—didn't you want to ask where the fire extinguisher is? Let me tell you, I was the one who hid it. I hid it in a chest, and so none of you will ever find it!"

Before Lin Qiushi could even move, Xiao Mei's foot came flying in from the side. She kicked Xiao Ji straight to the ground, and then ground Xiao Ji's hand viciously underfoot.

"It's all your fault," she screamed, "it's your fault he's dead. You're the monster, you're the monster who sided with the demons!! Die!!”

"Xiao Mei, calm down!" Sun Yuanzhou rushed to grab hold of her, worried that she was going to do something out of control. Though it'd be a way to get the anger out, she'd pay for it with her life.

"I know." Xiao Mei halted, and spoke icily: "I know. I won't die. I'm going to live. I'm going to live for him."

Reaching up, she wiped away her tears, and her tone went quiet.

"I was supposed to be the one who opened that chest…"

When he heard her, however, Xiao Ji only started laughing—big hearty hahaha’s. He turned to Lin Qiushi with malice in his gaze and horrible words at the ready, planning on further provoking these two about their dead lovers, when there came the sound of light footsteps at the door, followed by a laughing voice that said:

"Who told you I was dead?"

Everyone jolted and looked up toward the door—they saw that Ruan Nanzhu, who should have died the night before, had appeared before them. Ruan Nanzhu looked back at everyone with a smile, slowly trodding before Lin Qiushi before saying: "Honey, I'm home."

Lin Qiushi looked at him and didn't speak.

While he didn't answer, Xiao Ji began a piercing scream: "No way, no way, how could you have survived—No way!!"

Killing Ruan Nanzhu had been his most successful move. Not only had he buried the key, but he had also destroyed an item that could kill the Hako Onna. But this person who should've died had suddenly appeared before him, whole and hale!

"Kiddo, you want to know why veterans don't like jumping newbies through too many doors?" Ruan Nanzhu was watching him with eyes full of pity. "Because only by passing the previous doors do us veterans get the cards up our sleeves. You really think all those doors are for nothing?"

Lin Qiushi stood next to Ruan Nanzhu, sizing up the person beside him. He spotted a red circle newly marking Ruan Nanzhu's wrist—it looked as if it had been tattooed on, and made for a particularly piercing sight on the pale skin.

"Take a look. Aren't I perfectly fine?" Ruan Nanzhu spoke to Xiao Ji. "Are you surprised? Is your mind blown?"

Xiao Ji trembled, so angry he could pass out.

"Holy fuck Zhu Meng, how the hell did you survive!" When she saw Ruan Nanzhu, Liang Miye too was astonished. Now she was asking the question everybody wanted to ask. "You, weren't you…"

"I told you, I've got cards up my sleeve," Ruan Nanzhu said. "No need to worry…"

He peered at Lin Qiushi as he spoke, but found Lin Qiushi utterly expressionless and ignoring him completely—and in his mind he began to curse.

"Let's get the fire extinguisher's location out of him first," Lin Qiushi said. "That's more important."

"Let me do it," Xiao Mei spoke warmly, twirling at a strand of hair by her ear. "I guarantee that when I get the answer from him, he'll still be alive."

"What are you going to do?!" Xiao Ji was terrified by the look in Xiao Mei's eyes, and began to cuss again, a whole series of really bad words. When Xiao Mei seemed unmoved, he tried appealing to pathos once more: "Xiao Mei, I really do like you! Or I wouldn't have helped you kill Wei Xiude!"

But Xiao Mei only laughed.

"Hah, kill Wei Xiude?" She spoke without much emotion at all. "Of course a dumb newbie would be easier to control than a wily veteran. Plus, I don't believe you would've let me go."

Since Xiao Ji and the Hako Onna had come to an arrangement, he definitely would've killed everybody else inside the door in order to prevent the Hako Onna from going back on her word, so he'd be protected by the rule of the doors. Xiao Mei would've really been stupid if she'd believed his nonsense.

This, Xiao Mei was quite clear on. It was also why she chose to cooperate with Lin Qiushi.

After that, Xiao Mei looked toward Ruan Nanzhu.

"I really thought you were dead."

Ruan Nanzhu just smiled, noncommittal.

After that, other people began interrogating Xiao Ji about the location of the hidden fire extinguisher. Lin Qiushi sat at the side, not saying much. As a matter of fact ever since Ruan Nanzhu returned, Lin Qiushi hadn't said anything to him at all.

Ruan Nanzhu was still smiling and teasing Lin Qiushi at first. Only a bit later did he realize something was wrong, and quickly called Lin Qiushi outside for them to speak alone.

Lin Qiushi followed Ruan Nanzhu impassively out to a side room and said, "go ahead. What did you want to say?"

"Linlin, are you angry?" Ruan Nanzhu made that pretty face of his all sad and pitiful as he whimpered, "don't be angry with me, please?"

Truthfully, on any other day, Lin Qiushi's anger likely wouldn't have lasted after seeing Ruan Nanzhu like this. But today, he only huffed once, unfeeling and equivocal.

"Linlin, Linlin…" Ruan Nanzhu said. "Don't be angry anymore, I feel so bad when I see you’re upset."

He took Lin Qiushi's hands and carefully pecked at the corners of Lin Qiushi's mouth.

"Please?"

Lin Qiushi was unmoved.

"Let me just ask you one question."

Ruan Nanzhu, "mh."

Lin Qiushi, "were you sure you'd survive?"

Ruan Nanzhu said, "of course I was s—"

But before he'd even finished speaking Lin Qiushi cut him off—and with suppressed rage on the brink of breaking through the dam, Lin Qiushi called out Ruan Nanzhu's full name.

"Ruan Nanzhu, after all that, you're still going to fucking lie to me?!"

"Linlin, I really did have a way out," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Remember the 'Humans as Mirror" door, when I gave you that red bracelet inside? That bracelet can offset three supernatural attacks…"

He held out his wrist, showing Lin Qiushi that bright red mark on his arm.

"See? Aren't I perfectly fine?"

As he spoke, he smiled cajolingly at Lin Qiushi. But at this explanation, Lin Qiushi only scoffed.

"If you really knew you were going to live, would you have put the key and wooden stake together?" He grew angrier and angrier, until his last words were basically suppressed shouting. "You're just going to play me like I'm some kind of idiot?"

Ruan Nanzhu wanted to explain further, but Lin Qiushi was done listening. He said, "we'll talk about this more outside. I'm not in a good mood right now, if we keep talking, I really will get angry with you."

After that, he turned and left, giving Ruan Nanzhu no further opportunity to explain himself.

Ruan Nanzhu groaned without sound.

Back then, Lin Qiushi had really thought Ruan Nanzhu was done for. It wasn't until he heard Ruan Nanzhu's farewell—"Yu Linlin, I love you"—that Lin Qiushi came to knowledge. He'd understood in a split instant.

If Ruan Nanzhu really thought he was going to die, then when he gave his last confession, he would've at least called out Lin Qiushi's real name, not "Yu Linlin."

Lin Qiushi, once he understood everything, had steadied his crumbling emotional state. He also took all his fury for Ruan Nanzhu and buried it deep within himself.

On the other end, the interrogation had yielded results—Xiao Ji told them where the fire extinguisher was hidden. As for what method Xiao Mei used, Lin Qiushi didn't ask. He wasn't kind enough to forgive somebody who almost got Ruan Nanzhu killed; not taking care of Xiao Ji himself had been his last act of tolerance.

Xiao Ji confessed to everything. He said that immediately after he got here, he'd made a deal with the Hako Onna. He’d gotten a lot luckier than the dead Tian Guxue; the moment he entered the door he'd received the item set on the table and also the hidden rulebook.

Of course, to prevent other people from suspecting him, he'd hidden the item in one of the chests in the living room. Then, after reading the rulebook, he'd put the rulebook away in a corner of the dining room.

After that, Xiao Ji opened three chests in a row before everybody's eyes. He'd opened up the item and one of the Hako Onna's powers to boot.

As for Tian Guxue, she was entirely a smokescreen that the Hako Onna cooked up. Back when Ruan Nanzhu was having suspicions about Tian Guxue, he'd felt something was off, because Tian Guxue hadn't seem anywhere clever enough to be a competent partner. Sure enough, right behind her had been the better player Xiao Ji, who'd been so much better that nobody even suspected him.

But when the unexpected happened to Ruan Nanzhu, it prompted Lin Qiushi to start thinking about all this. He contacted Xiao Mei in private and got her to tamper with Xiao Ji's stethoscope. Then he'd gotten quite lucky—Xiao Ji immediately exposed himself and allowed Lin Qiushi to confirm that he was the mole.

Everything had gone smoothly, aside from the person who'd lied to him.

Ruan Nanzhu—he must have already guessed there was a second mole. He'd even predicted that the second mole would target him, and in order to leave Lin Qiushi out of danger, he’d hidden everything and directed two of Hako Onna's powers onto himself. The reality was that everything Ruan Nanzhu did bore risk; even if he'd been eighty percent sure the bracelet could weather damage from the Hako Onna, there was still that twenty percent uncertainty. That was why he decided to leave behind the key and item, shutting himself up alone in Tian Guxue's room.

Lin Qiushi understood all the logic, but he still couldn't control his anger. The moment he thought about Ruan Nanzhu dying alone in that room without even a body to recover, he found it so damn difficult to bear.

"Are you two alright?" When the two came back out, the peculiar atmosphere between them was worrying, so Liang Miye asked a quiet word or two.

"We're fine," Lin Qiushi answered coolly. "What could possibly be wrong?"

Liang Miye, "…" Y'all sure don't look fine. And this was the first time she's seen such an ingratiating expression on Ruan Nanzhu's face.

"Baby are you hungry?"

"No."

"Baby are you thirsty?"

"No."

"Baby—"

"Don't call me baby."

"Linlin…"

"Shut up."

The above was their dialogue, and everyone around them listening in began to look queer; Sun Yuanzhou forced down a laugh and cleared his throat a couple of times before saying you two sure are cute together, but this was no time to flirt. Let's talk about the matter of the Hako Onna first.

How to get the items, how to kill the Hako Onna and get out of here—these were the most important matters at hand.

"We have at most six days," Ruan Nanzhu said. "After six days, the Hako Onna can probably activate 'I'm Behind You' again. If we're not out by then…well, we might never get out."

"The item we have right now that can kill the Hako Onna is the wooden stake. Once we figure out the Hako Onna's location we can hit her with it, and for her to use a power, she has to cry." Sun Yuanzhou too had straightened out his thoughts. "As long as we wait…"

"That's right," Ruan Nanzhu said. "But the stake can only be used once, and if we use it in the wrong place, we'll have lost a critical opportunity." The wooden stake had to be used prior to opening a chest. He continued, "I haven't used the gasoline we put through the door either. This is also a key item."

"Mh, we just don't know if there's any notable difference between the Hako Onna's chest and the Hakobito’s," Lin Qiushi said. "If the stethoscope can tell the difference between those two, that's for the best. If it can't, then things will be a bit more difficult."

By the current look of things, when the Hako Onna cried, they could only confirm which room she was in, not which specific chest.

So there was still risk in it for them.

"Finding more items would be safer," Ruan Nanzhu said, "but time isn't waiting for us."

Everybody began to ponder the matter.

Today, the Hako Onna seemed to have realized that things weren't looking good, and so didn't use a power or cry aloud. Lin Qiushi could only confirm the Hako Onna was on the first floor, but didn't know a more concrete location.

If the Hako Onna didn't cry, then they could make no progress. They could only wait.

While they waited, Ruan Nanzhu brazenly kept trying to make conversation with Lin Qiushi. At first, Lin Qiushi answered on and off, but after he grew annoyed he didn't even bother replying, just kept his head down and played with his phone.

A resentful expression appeared on Ruan Nanzhu's face; he wanted to be the thing held in Lin Qiushi's hand.

Liang Miye spectated their interactions and held back laughter from the sidelines. Obsidian Leader Ruan Nanzhu was so austere and cold outside the door—who knew he'd be like this inside? Of course, she didn't dare laugh out loud, because if she irritated Ruan Nanzhu and got him truly angry…She wasn't about to get the same treatment as Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi was clearly still angry, and it wasn't just any small upset.

Seeing him like this, Ruan Nanzhu was troubled. He thought that if he couldn't even get Lin Qiushi to come around with an advantage as huge as Zhu Meng inside the door, then it'd be even harder outside the door.

And so going to sleep at night, Ruan Nanzhu crept his way into Lin Qiushi's bed.

"Linlin, I'm scared." The person before him stared with big, dark, beautiful eyes, watching Lin Qiushi all innocently. "Will you sleep with me please?"

Lin Qiushi was impassive: "You're scared?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "yeah."

"That's great. I'm scared too."

With that he got up, leaving Ruan Nanzhu on the bed, and switched over to Ruan Nanzhu's bed.

Ruan Nanzhu, "…" Oh crap, oh crap, his dearest Linlin was actually angry, and of the type that couldn't even be sweet-talked.

Author's Note:

Ruan Nanzhu: Are you angry?

Lin Qiushi: No.

Ruan Nanzhu: Are you angry?

Lin Qiushi: No.

Ruan Nanzhu: Are y—

Lin Qiushi: Ask me again and I will kill you.

Ruan Nanzhu: _(:з」∠)_

The Daily Life of Popuruan and Pipilin[2] hahahaha

Translator’s Note:

That’s definitely what the Chinese said so I’m wondering if there’s a typo. LQS grabbed someone in the group, but put the stethoscope to his own chest and listened to the stethoscope himself.

“The Daily Life of Popuko and Pipimi” is the Chinese title of Pop Team Epic

[Ch. 116] | [Ch. 118]

[felassan]

Some DA trivia and dev commentary from Twitter

There’s a lot of different tweets, so I’m just pasting and linking to the source rather than screencapping them all or making several different posts or something. Post under cut for length.

User: Was dragon age 2 your favourite in the franchise?

David Gaider: DA2 was the project where my writing team was firing on all cylinders, and they wrote like the wind- because they had to! Second draft? Pfft. Plot reviews? Pfft. I was so proud of what we all accomplished in such a brief time. I didn't think it was possible. [source] DA2 is, however, also where the goal posts kept moving. Things kept getting cut, even while we worked. I had to write that dialogue where Orsino turned even if you sided with him, because his boss battle had been cut and there was no time to fix the plot. A real WTF moment. >:( [source]

Mike Rousseau: I remember bugging that! And then being told it wasn't a bug, and being so confused. Doing QA for DA2 was an experience. Trial by fire. [source]

DG: So I think it's safe to say DA2 is my favorite entry in the DA franchise and also the sort of thing I never want to live through ever again. Mixed feelings galore. [source]

User: (I personally blame whoever it was for ruining most romance arcs in other games for me; they don't live up to Fenris's romance storyline)

DG: I wrote Fenris, so uh - me, I guess? Or maybe his cinematic designer, who put in the puppy dog eyes. [source]

User: If DA2 had just been an expansion, do you think it would have been better received? There was a lot of great stuff in there, and I think my initial dislike of it was because of the zone reuse. If it hadn't needed to be a full game, would that issue not have arisen?

DG: Hard to say. It was either going to be an over-scoped expansion or an under-scoped sequel. If it had stayed an expansion, it might never have received the resources/push it DID get. [source]

User: I'd love to visit the universe where you had an extra year or so to work on it. You did a very good job as it stands, but it definitely had rough edges. Not just the writing team either. The whole game had hit and miss moments, that just a little more dev time could have fixed.

DG: On one hand, DA2 existed to fill a hole in the release schedule. More time was never in the cards. DA2 was originally planned as an expansion! On the other, if we had more time, would we have started doing that thing where we second guess/iterate ourselves into mediocrity? [shrug emoji] [source] 

Jennifer Hepler: This is what I love about DA2. Personally, I greatly prefer something that's rough and raw and sincere to something that's had all the soul polished out of it. Extra time would have helped for art and levels, but it would have lost something too. [source]

DG: Right? I think we could have used some time for peer reviews (and fewer cuts), but I think the rawness of the writing lent a certain spark that we usually polished out. [source]

JH: Definitely. I think the structure (more character-driven) and the tightness of the timeframe let each individual writer's voice really come through. Polish can be very homogenizing. [source]

DG: I should add I'm not, by any means, against iteration. Some iteration is good and necessary. The problem that BioWare often had is that we never knew when to stop. Like a goldfish, we would fill the space given to us by constantly re-iterating on things that were "good enough". [source]

Patrick Weekes: I appreciate your incredibly diplomatic use of the past tense on "had". :D [source]

User: DA2 was my gateway into the series and I’m so happy it is. I love the game the way that it is. It’s one of my favorites of all time. But I am also aware of everything that was said here. If it were remastered, do you think it would change?

DG: I'd be surprised if it was ever remastered. If it was, do you really think they'd change things? Do remasters do that? No idea. [source]

User: Both sides got undercut as I recall. Didn't that whole sequence also end with the mage leader embracing blood magic? It was very much "a plague on both your houses" moment, at least for me.

DG: Yep. Orsino was supposed to have his own version of Meredith's end battle, which only happened if you sided with the templars. That got cut, but the team still wanted to use the model we'd made for him. So... that happened. [source]

DG: I would personally say that DA2 is a fantastic game hidden under a mountain of compromises, cut corners, and tight deadlines. If you can see past all that, you'll see a fantastic game. I don't doubt, however, that it's very difficult for most to do that. [source]

PW: I love DAI with all my selfish "I worked on this" heart, but DA2's follower arcs and relationships are probably my favorite in the series. [source]

User: As I've expressed many times, I love the game, especially it's writing and characters but, for me, the most impressive aspect of it, in consideration of it's lack of time for drafts and revisions, is the 2nd act with Arishok.  What amazingly complex character and fantastic duel

User: Just played it again and I have to agree. Though he is bound by the harsher tenants of the Qun, he makes valid points about free marcher society. Though it is obvious that he and Hawke will come to blows eventually, the tension builds gradually and understandably

DG: Luke did such a fantastic job with the Arishok I found myself sometimes wishing the Qunari plot had just been THE plot. [source]

User: What do you think would have changed, story wise, if you had more time for DA2?

DG: I would have taken out that thing where Meredith gets the idol. It was forced on me because she needed to be "super-powered" with red lyrium for her final battle. Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that. [source]

User: I deeply lament that there wasn't/couldn't be some sort of DA2 equivalent of Throne of Bhaal's Ascension mod.

DG: I'd have done it, if DA2 had allowed for anything but the most rudimentary of modding. ;) [source]

User: I mean, and I think I understand where you were trying, but how much legitimacy did the Templars and her as top Templar have after they're keeping the mages locked up against their will in the old slave quarters? Feel free to not reply.

DG: I think it's the kind of discussion which requires nuance, and which discussions on the Internet are not prone to. [source]

User: Was a compromise that the quest lines don’t branch? It felt like it was supposed to be that way but then you end up in the same place later regardless of what you pick. Like I hoodwinked the templars so good to help the apostates escape but in Act II they were caught anyway.

DG: I remember us having a lot more branching in the initial planning yes. Most of this got trimmed out in the first or second wave of cuts, in an effort to not cut the plots altogether. [source]

DG: "If you could Zack Snyder DA2, what would you change?" Wow. I'm willing to bet Mark or Mike (or anyone else on the team) would give very different answers than me, but it's enough to give a sober man pause, because that was THE Project of Multiple Regrets. [source] I mean, it's the most hypothetical of hypotheticals. It's never gonna happen. I wouldn't be surprised if EA considered DA2 its embarrassing red-headed stepchild. We'd also need to ignore that in many ways DA2 was as good as it was bad BECAUSE of how it was made. But that aside? [source] First, either restore the progressive changes to Kirkwall we'd planned over the passing of in-game years or reduce the time between acts to months instead of years... which, in hindsight, probably should have been done as soon as the progressive stuff was cut. [source] I'm sure you're like "get rid of repeated levels!" ...but I don't care about that. All I wanted was for Kirkwall to feel like a bigger city. Way more crowded. More alive! Fewer blood mages. [source] I'd want to restore the plot where a mage Hawke came THIS close to becoming an abomination. An entire story spent trapped in one's own head while trapped on the edge of possession. Why? Because Hawke is the only mage who apparently never struggles with this. It was a hard cut. [source]

User: I would LOVE to hear more details about this! I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a short story?

DG: I don't even remember the details of the story, sorry. There was a fight, and you caught the bad guy and then realized none of it was real and woke up idk [source]

DG: I'd want to restore all those alternate lines we cut, meaning people forget they'd met you. Or that they knew you were a mage. Or, oh god, that maybe they'd romanced you in DAO. So much carnage. [source] I'd want to restore the Act 3 plots we cut only because they were worked on too late, but which would have made the buildup to the mage/templar clash less sudden. Though I don't remember what they were, now. Some never got beyond being index cards posted on the wall. [grimace emoji] [source] As I mentioned elsewhere, I'd want to restore Orsino's end battle so he wouldn't need to turn on you even if you sided with him. And I'd want an end fight with the templars that didn't require Meredith to have red lyrium and go full Tetsuo. [source] Heck, maybe an end decision where you sided with neither the mages nor the templars. Because it certainly ended up feeling like you could brand both sides as batshit pretty legitimately, no? That was never planned, tho. No idea how to make that feel like an actual path atm. [source] Maybe an option to go "umm, Anders... what are you DOING?" 👀 [source] And, of course, a Varric romance, because Mary took that "slimy car salesman" character we'd planned and did the impossible with him. I can feel Mary glaring at me for even suggesting this, tho. [source] Lastly, the original expanded opening to the game which allowed you to spend time with Bethany and Carver BEFORE the darkspawn attacked. And, um, that's about it off the top of my head. Zack Snyder, WHAT PANDORA'S BOX HAVE YOU OPENED. [source] Shit, I remembered two more things: 1) Restore the "Varric exaggerates the heck out of the story" at the beginning of every Act, until Cassandra calls him on it. Yes, that was a thing. 2) Make DA: Exodus. Yes, I am still bitter. [source] God damn it, I meant "Make DA: Exalted March". The DA2 expansion, NOT Exodus since that was DA2's original name and makes no sense. Because the expansion ended with Varric dying, and that will always be on my "things left undone" list. [source]

User: Whaaaat?

DG: Well, you know that scene in Wrath of Khan where Spock goes into the dilithium chamber because he's a Vulcan? Well, imagine that but with Varric and red lyrium and because he's a dwarf. ;) [source]

John Epler: I distinctly remember referencing the bit from MGS4 where you crawl through the microwave corridor in the split screen, while cinematic battle rages on the other half. [source]

DG: It would have been glorious, John. Glorious. [source]

JE: I don't think I've ever been so certain what a shot should look like as I did Hawke coming in and finding Varric in the broken throne, just like when he was telling Cassandra his story. [source]

DG: It would have come full circle! Auggghh, it still kills me. [source]

User: Lord, you folks are a little too good at this.

JE: The true secret behind videogame narrative is knowing how to make yourself seem a lot more clever than you actually are. [source] 'Oh, we TOTALLY planned that.' [source]

User: Ok, this thread [the DA2 regrets thread, which is the big chunks above] but Inquisition.

DG: My regrets about Inquisition are, more or less, the normal kind. Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid. [source]

User: You can keep your Varric romance, I want a Flemeth romance goddamnit!

DG: I would allow for one flirt option, and then a recording of Kate Mulgrew laughing for three minutes straight. [source]

User: I had a hypothesis about the repetitive caves in DA2. They're repetitive because it's Varric telling the story and he didn't consider them important.  They're like sets in a play.  (Okay, I really suspect it was a time/money/resources thing but I like my fake explanation better.)

DG: Hang a lampshade on it, maybe? Cassandra: "But that's the exact cave you were in last time?" Varric: "Whatever. They all look the same, I'm not THAT kind of dwarf. Can we move on?" [source]

User: that makes sense, hypothetically to make Varric romanceable and keep his arc—that had to happen for the main plot—I imagine you would have to make double the content (or more)? which would've been a tall order given the time/budget constraints the game was under

DG: Right. When it comes to "romance arc" vs. "follower story arc", we generally only had time to do one or the other. Never both. Romancing Varric would have meant not getting the story of his that you did. [source]

Mary Kirby: The one exaggeration I really, REALLY wanted, that we never got to do was Varric narrating his own death scene with Hawke weeping over him, then cutting to Cassandra's pissed off glaring at him. [source]

DG: Haha! The one I wanted was Varric's plot where he takes on the baddies single-handedly, sliding across the floor like Jet Lee, action movie-style, until finally Cassandra gets irritated and he has to admit Hawke & the rest of the party showed up to help. [source]

MK: We did that one! (He didn't do any Jet Lee moves, though.) Jepler gave him letterboxing to get The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly showdown vibes while he shot a ton of mooks single-handed. [source]

DG: Wow. Shows how much I remember. [source]

JE: I found it! I remember seeing this sequence as my treat for doing a bunch of much more challenging work. It was fun to see how far I could push our limited library of animations. [link] [source]

DG: Heh awesome. I could have sworn it was cut, honestly. I think I was even in that meeting. [source]

User: no disrespect but that’s surprising and rich of Mary “Hard in Hightown” Kirby to think DA2 shouldn’t have had a Varric romance when she wrote an entire book of Varric’s self-insert character pining over his Hawke insert character… HIH is the reason we had VHawke Summer 2018

DG: I can't *really* speak for Mary, or how she feels about it now compared to back then. I only know how she felt about it back then, and I'm not sure it was as much the concept of the romance but that Varric's entire story would be bent to "romance arc" ...a very different thing. [source]

JH: I remember pushing to have the first DLC start with Hawke having an option to ask Varric, "Did you tell Cassandra about us?" and if you picked it, Varric would answer, "Of course not, baby. I told her you were sleeping with X..." and then proceed as if you had had a full romance. [source]

DG: I still wonder how that would have gone over. x) [source]

JE: Okay, one more DA2 thing. Putting together the cinematics for this scene was a blast. [link] [source]

MK: These lines are my greatest legacy. I want "Make sure the world knows I died... at Chateau Haine!" inscribed on my tombstone. [source]

JE: I was so glad no one said 'no' to the crane shot. [source]

MK: It needs that crane shot. It's the perfect icing on that cake made from solid cheese. [source]

DG: The designers were all "we need more combat" and I think we were all "I think you underestimate just HOW interesting we can make this dinner party". [source]

JE: And finally. I think @SherylChee wrote the one-liner. I think we had a collection of like, 20. [link] [source]

Sheryl Chee: Yeah! Something like that! I remember submitted a whole bunch and Frank said you only needed one. Wish I'd kept the other fifteen. [source]

JE: A random chooser where, each time through the scene, you get a different one-liner. [source]

JE: DA2 is the project I'm the proudest of. I also absolutely get that it didn't land for a lot of people. But I don't think it's inaccurate to say that, in a lot of ways, DA2 defined my career. [source]  Everyone spent a year working at their maximum ability. I was a fresh cinematic designer and was given all of Varric's content, as well as the Act 1 Finale mission. It was a lot for someone who had been doing the Cinematics thing for literally 6 months. [source]  There's some stuff in there I can't look at without wincing. And there's some stuff I'm genuinely proud of. Not to mention, it was my introduction to most of the writing team. Several of whom I'm still working with today! Albeit in a different capacity [source] Also, weirdly, one of my most enduring memories of Dragon Age 2 is how much Bad Company 2 we'd play at lunch. It was a LOT. [source] Every game I've worked on has a game I played attached to it. ME2 is Borderlands. DA2 is Bad Company 2. DAI is DayZ. I, hmm. There's a progression there. I don't know how I feel about it. [source]

User: Is DA4 going to be tarkov then?

JE: I've kind of churned out of Tarkov for now. Probably Hunt Showdown, at least right now. [source]

User: I think people also don't take nuance into consideration -- like I FULLY acknowledge the flaws in my favorite games and will openly criticize them, but that doesn't mean they're not my favorite games anymore??? You can like and thing and still be critical of it.

JE: A lot of my favourite shit is deeply flawed! I acknowledge it and I think it's interesting to dissect the flaws. [source]

User: I still wish Justice was an actual character in DA2 rather than a plot point.

DG: There was a moment during DAI where we *almost* put in you running into Justice with the Grey Wardens, and he's all "Kirkwall? I never went to Kirkwall" [source]

User: Does that imply that Justice was shoehorned in to DA2?

DG: Nah, it was an in-joke where we thought it'd be fun to suggest that "Justice" was simply some demon that tricked Anders in DA2. Wooo those tricky demons! We didn't do it, though. [source]

User: [about templars]  except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

DG: I don't doubt that many people agree with you, and yet people can and do argue on behalf of the templars as well. My place isn't to pick a side, but to provide evidence that players can interpret for themselves [source]

User: Can you shed some light for us on how DA was able to do multiple same-sex romance options for different genders but the Mass Effect team treated them like the plague? What process existed for your team that just wasn't their for the other tentpole franchise?

DG: Different people making the decisions, almost different cultures. I don't know what it's like now, but for many years the Mass Effect team and the Dragon Age team were almost like two different studios working within the same building. [source]

User: It truly boggles the mind. Kudos for doing demonstrably better on consistent queer representation than the ME teams. Y'all never needed us to make petitions to try to get the studio's attention and ask them to do better by us. That's the fight we're once again embroiled in now.

DG: Honestly, I don't feel like tut-tutting the Mass Effect team. They did their part, and if they were a bit later to the show than the DA team they certainly did more than almost every other game out there -- and willingly. [source]

Updates begin here

User: So what was the reason for naming Dragon age 2 "Dragon age II" and not using a subtitle?

DG: As I recall, that was purely a publisher decision. I think they wanted to avoid the impression it was an expansion. [source]

User: Is there no chance of ever remaking DA2 under better circumstances? -Somehow remove the repetitiveness of gameplay by making changes and updating the tech and adding much more to the storyline. It could almost be a new very exciting game.

DG: I'd say there's zero chance of that. Let's keep our hopes up for the next DA title instead. [source]

User: I am a little confused here, help me out here please! How exactly was the cut boss battle with Orsino supposed to work out? How it would've kept him from turning against the player?

DG: It means that, if you sided with the templars, the entire boss bottle at the end would have been against Orsino and the mages. No fight against Meredith. The end decision would have been more divergent. [source]

User: I do remember that one of the reasons going around for that, was that resources were going to the transition to Frostbite. I'm still not fully sold on that having been a good choice. I felt that more time should have been given for that transition considering it was made for FPSs

DG: We didn't transition to Frostbite until DAI. Given our time frame for DA2, I don't think we *could* have transitioned to a new engine. [source]

User: Since your talking about the what could have been for DA2. Could you say what your script was for Anthem? Cause I remember reading that you wrote the plot on that game.

DG: I created a setting for Anthem and scripted out a plot - but, as I understand it, almost none of that ended up being used. So it's a bit pointless to talk about what I'd planned, as that'd be for some completely different type of game. [source]

User: [in reference to the exchange above where DG said “Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that.” re: Meredith] except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

DG: I don't doubt that many people agree with you, and yet people can and do argue on behalf of the templars as well. My place isn't to pick a side, but to provide evidence that players can interpret for themselves. [source]

If I missed a tweet, got the wrong source link or included a tweet twice, feel free to let me know and I’ll correct.

Edit / Update: Post update 22nd April

[yikesharringrove]

Agitation (or disturbance of the mind)

Here is my piece for the Harringrove Big Bang!! I’m so so proud of how this piece turned out and I’m so excited to share it! @harringrovebigbang

Read on Ao3 (highly recommended. It’s over 16k).

Special thanks to my beta readers @thinger-strang @crispysteve without whom this story would’ve been scrapped in many fits of emotions.

Art for this story to be linked soon by @thedogsled

Check out this amazing moodboard by @memes-saved-me !!

Enjoy!

-

Steve Harrington is a liar. 

He always has been. 

Nearly everything about him is a perfectly crafted facade. 

From the story of his family’s move to Hawkins when he was eight, to the smile that slides easily onto his face when he tells Robin I’m fine. 

Steve is a liar. 

But it's all out of necessity. All for the greater of some good he isn’t all that clear on anymore. 

It was always about protection. 

Protecting his friends and everyone in Hawkins from the truth about Hawkins National Laboratory. 

Then it was about protecting himself from his powers. 

From the way his words had a knack of worming their way into someone’s brain. Of setting up shop inside and clanging around until they could do nothing but bow to his suggestion. 

Just because he could get his way with the right inflection and the telltale shiver down his spine, didn’t mean that that was okay. 

It was drilled into him the first night he arrived in Hawkins. 

After his file was stamped with a large red mark that read defective, he was given to one of the scientists and her husband. 

The Harringtons. 

A normal new family from Eastern Oklahoma. 

That’s what they told everyone. 

That’s what they made sure Steve parroted to everyone in his brand new school. 

His new father took a cigar to the tattoo on his wrist, welting the flesh with an ugly burn. He ignored Steve’s screams and tears. 

You have to fit in here, Steven, he had said, the cigar smoldering between his fingers, Steve clutching his wrist, eyes shining with tears. You have to fit in and be normal. 

So Steve lied. 

He smiled and told everyone he came from a normal family from normal Oklahoma. He said that he lived in a normal house, and read normal books, and played normal sports. 

And he tried, and failed, to convince himself the lab was a dream.

-

“We should do something after this.”

Steve was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to let Robin in on how much he was dreading returning to his empty house tonight. 

Robin didn’t acknowledge him. She was sorting the returned movies, placing them in piles of genre so they could easily be returned to their proper section. 

Steve quietly lifted his leg, and lightly kicked her hip. 

She glared at him. 

“Quit ignorin’ me. Just say yes, or no.” It’s not like if she said no it would crush him or anything. No. It’s fine. 

“I just have a bunch of homework that’s all, like, due tomorrow,” she said it slowly, as though telling him a beloved relative had died. 

Was it that obvious how lonely he is?

“Don’t worry about it, Buck.” Robin took school real serious. She had perfect grades every year and had already applied to sixteen colleges and universities, including four Ivy League options. 

So Steve didn’t blame her for not skulking around with him. 

With college-less, nowhere bound Steve. 

“I’m really sorry,” she began, getting that sad look in her eye like that night in the mall bathroom when Steve spilled his drugged-out guts. Literally, and metaphorically. 

“Nah, I was just lookin’ for something to do. It’s okay, Robin. Really.”

And it was. 

Almost. 

It’s just that, Steve’s not got a lot going for him right now. 

He’s got a big empty house, and a brain that likes to give him excessive nightmares, and one age-appropriate friend in the whole place. 

But he doesn’t wanna talk about all that shit. 

And Robin looked like there was something on the tip of her tongue. Something her teeth were barely holding back. 

So Steve just scooped up the stack of neatly ordered Action films, and made his way over to the far shelf, taking himself out of the situation before it would get to a place that would only make him lie more and more. 

Robin means well. He knows she does. 

It just feels like a lot of her well-meaning chats end up with Steve lying through his fucking teeth and Robin nearly in tears of frustration at his lack of openness with her. 

She feels like being tortured and drugged together gives them a close kind of kinship very few share. 

Steve feels like he’s got just too much fucked-up baggage to dump on her. 

Not when they’re trying to put the Upside Down behind them. 

Not that Steve could ever put it behind him. 

He felt something build in his gut. Something hot and heavy. Something that always meant his powers were scraping at the walls of the neat little cave he had shut them in. Something that meant his skin would burn until he unleashed some of his pent-up energy. 

He took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly through his nose. 

He had rules to his power. Rules he had given himself, mostly. Things he’d never use his powers for. 

He tried to avoid his powers at all costs, but he had seen what could happen if he tried to tamp them down. It was less dangerous to open the lid of the box just a tiny bit. 

Especially if he did it right. 

He made his way back over to Robin, finding that spot in his brain that made a shudder zip down his spine. The spot that was made of cold and electric heat. 

It was always too simple when he let the power take over. 

Locate her feeling. Let him consume him. 

And then just, twist it as much as he wants. 

“Robin,” he spoke slowly, honing his suggestion. “You don’t have to feel bad about not spending time with me tonight.”

He felt her sadness and guilt about the evening recede about as fast as the tide. 

She really shouldn’t feel bad about ditching him, especially not when her education is the main priority. 

He matched her lazy grin, wiping his nose discreetly, only a small drop of blood smeared against his hand. 

The rest of the shift passed without incident, and the roaring feeling in Steve’s gut had been sated enough for the time being. 

So he pushed it back out of his mind, and returned to his empty house. 

He was saving up to get his own place. He really was. But it was easier this way. He didn’t pay any bills, had lots of space to himself, and a pool in the backyard (that he never used). 

And it’s hard for him to explain, but there’s something tugging him back into this house all the time. 

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the only home he ever knew after the pain and fear that was his childhood in the lab, or if it’s something else that makes him feel tethered to the too-big house. 

Sometimes he thought there was a sense of safety in the old place. 

With parents that spent excessive amounts of time doing research for things he didn’t understand but was sure were important, it was largely an emotion-free place. 

Which was good for Steve. 

High emotion situations made his power boil up and spill over the edge like a pot of water on the stove. 

A place like his empty house, he could keep everything in check. Not get his feelings tangled with those around him. Not catch thoughts that were just beginning to be molded into something brand new. 

He clambered into bed, punching his pillows around in a way that was decidedly not petulant. 

There was a steady silence in the old house. A silence that was as depressing as it was easy on his brain. 

And there wasn’t silence. 

Creaks. 

Creaks issuing from downstairs. From the floorboards in the hallway. 

Footsteps. 

Steve was out of bed in a second, bat held aloft in as close to ready position as he could maintain while bolting down the stairs in his socks and faded green gym shorts. 

He knew how to navigate the house without a sound. Practice of tip-toeing around a volatile not-father kinda ended up giving him something useful. 

The creaks were still progressing, moving up the hallway from the back of the house, where his parents’ empty bedroom sat still. 

The person was getting closer, lumbering slowly as if they were trying to be quiet themselves. 

Steve adjusted his grip on the bat, taking proper batting stance, ready for the intruder to round the corner into his section of the hall. 

First sign of a person, and Steve would swing. 

No questions asked. 

The floorboard before the bend in the hall gave a loud sound, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone curse under their breath. 

He closed his eyes, and swung. 

His bat sailed through the air, and connected with, not an intruder. 

And then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. A completely feral state of fight or flight made him nearly bare his teeth in an animalistic growl. He felt fear, and dread, and pure stubborn, stupid resolve. 

It nearly blinded him, the emotions were so thick and clear. 

And then there whooshed out of him, as though being sucked up by a feelings vacuum, leaving him empty and confused. 

His top lip was covered in blood. 

He had a lot of fucking questions as he stared at the bat, hanging by it’s long nails in the hallway wall, the ominous creaking moving past him towards the stairs. 

The footsteps that were caused by no one. 

It’s official. 

Steve’s lost it. 

He’s fucking crazy. 

He’s hearing footsteps and voices swearing quietly, and he’s going mad and completely batshit and should be tucked away in a padded room for the rest of his life. 

He didn’t even bother to wrench the bat out of the wall as he stumbled after the imagined footsteps. 

He clearly needed to get a good night’s sleep, and to forget that anything happened at all tonight. 

-

Billy hates Harrington’s house. 

He doesn’t, really. It’s given him excellent shelter while he pulled himself together, and it’s out of town enough to serve as a good base for the little gang of Lost Boys he had accumulated. 

It’s just that, the old house likes to make a lot of noise. 

It keeps him on edge. 

Every squealing door hinge, and every creaky floorboard sets his teeth on edge and makes him whip around in a frenzy, expecting to see a demogorgon snarling at him from the sitting room. 

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard the thuds coming from upstairs. 

He generally liked to avoid the top floor of the house. 

Harrington’s bedroom was up there, and it wigged him out something fierce. He’d only been in the dilapidated version of it one time, his first night in the house he had claimed for safety. 

He didn’t intend to stay the night in there, he had just stumbled upon it, and curled up in the bed. 

He remembers not sleeping the entire night. He was so scared after coming to in the library, something slimy and disgusting slipping its way out of his throat. 

The whole place had been screaming, as though the Upside Down itself was alive. Alive and being horrifically murdered. 

He didn’t know what it was called then, all he knew was that Harrington’s house was the first one he came across, and that Harrington’s room was depressingly empty and impersonal. 

But, there was a thudding coming from that general area, and if some kinda shitty creature was making its way into the house, he needed to hedge it off before it did any damage. 

He took hold of his ax, never far from his side these days, and slipped out of his cot. 

The floorboards in the hallway were creaky, and he tried to walk slowly, muffling his footsteps as much as he could in his heavy boots, not wanting to warn the monster he was coming for it. 

He cataloged the crew in his head: Hopper had his troop of three in the basement where they were resting up for the supply run tomorrow. Timothy was on nightwatch with his team of five. Billy was in a pack with four others; Heather Holloway, her mother, Janet, and the two boys they found skulking around the library the same night everyone seemed to wake up. One of the boys was called Andrew. The other hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time they’d been trapped. 

Billy liked to call him by different names each time he referred to the kid. Trying to get him to laugh. He couldn’t’ve been more than seven years old, and he was trapped in this fucking hellscape with the rest of them. 

Andrew was thirteen. Billy didn’t like to look at him much. Andrew reminded him of Max. Which made Billy feel empty and achy in a way he didn’t think was very productive for survival.

But Andrew took a shine to Janet Holloway. Probably missing his mother and needing more comfort than his thirteen-year-old self was willing to admit.

The Holloway women were a hell of a lot feistier than Bill originally gave them credit for, saving his ass in a scrap just as often as he had been there for theirs. Heather and Janet were equal parts caring and soft, with the right amounts of clever and bossy to take point on their team. 

Billy let himself be the muscle. 

He let himself be the watchdog and attack dog. He took nightwatches and never let his weapons out of his grasp.

Everyone had a role. 

And that was perfectly okay.

They had to keep together in this world. They wouldn’t survive it otherwise. 

They’d all lost enough people to understand that. 

One of the boards gave a hefty creak under his left foot, and he breathed a quiet fuck through his bandana, listening for more of the thudding. 

It had stopped about forty seconds before, Billy had counted, and he couldn’t hear any other sounds of something forcing its way inside. Plus, the nightwatch hadn’t sounded any alarms. 

He took another step, ax held ready and aloft in case he came face to ugly face with one of the horrible creatures that prowled the night. 

He rounded the corner, and there was a loud bang on the wall next to his head. 

He jumped as paint chipped off the wall and flew all over him. 

He was hit with a feeling of intense fear, and adrenaline rush that caused all the blood in his ears to rush. He looked wildly around, seeing, nothing. 

Billy bared his teeth, ready to go down fucking swinging. 

As long as he took the fucker down with him, that’s all that matters. 

Save the rest. 

And he stood, ready to fight, ready to die. 

And there was nothing.

Nothing in the hallway. He was all alone. 

None of this shit made any sense. He hadn’t dreamed the wall cracked beside his head, and looking back, there were holes in the wall, and a big dent that had splinted the white paint and drywall beneath it. 

There was some fucked up shit going on, and Billy didn’t like it one bit. 

He continued down the hall, creeping to the stairs to check the original source of the noises that had woken him up. 

Harrington’s room was pretty much just as he remembered it from that first night in the house. 

It was sparse and sad-looking. The covers on the bed were all jostled and thrown around, the horrible spindle-like vines covering nearly every surface in the room. 

They had cleared the tendrils in other rooms, cutting them and burning them back, ensuring the vines didn’t start creeping over them when they weren’t looking. 

Billy didn’t fancy being covered and tethered by the slimy black vines. He was pretty much over all this Upside Down shit. 

He took a cursory look around Harrington’s room, not noticing any signs of forced entry from a creature, really nothing was out of place. 

The meager school trophies on the bookshelf next to the closet looked rotted and tarnished, just like everything else in this absolute hell called a parallel universe. There were few pictures in this room, much like the whole house. It had taken Billy a long time to notice the lack of inhabitancy the house had. The way it seemed to feel so cold and empty, it would be that way in the real world too. 

His eyes swept over the dilapidated dresser, cataloging the room quickly for anything that should worry him. 

Billy deemed the whole scene safe, and made sure to close the door tightly as he retreated back downstairs. 

-

Steve’s going fucking crazy. 

He was still in bed, his alarm clock ringing angrily at him as it had for the past six minutes. 

He hadn’t slept at all last night. 

Something just felt. Off. 

The feelings in his chest were scrambled, and they felt foreign to him. Like he had taken in somebody else’s emotions. 

But proximity was the key to his power, and he was alone. Alone alone. 

Like, the closest person was Mrs. Gardfeld in the next house, all the way across their combined, much too big, yards. 

It felt like. It felt like someone was in the house with him. Someone was in the house with him, and they were scared, and stubborn, and tired, and a flurry of things that made Steve feel ill. 

And he couldn’t push them out. 

He couldn’t find the chasm between this slew of someone else’s shit, and his own messy cocktail of feelings. 

The other feelings were like those awful vines in the tunnel. Snaking around under his feet, wiggling up his ankles and keeping him stuck in the mud. Wrapping around his own emotions and squeezing until they just merged into one. 

He’s lost the metaphor. 

Doesn’t matter. 

His feelings are fucked and his brain is fucked and his day is fucked. 

And he has to work a double at Family Fuckin’ Video. 

He found his way out of bed. Not going very far, just standing next to his warm nest of blankets, debating getting back in and hiding for the rest of his life. 

He was going to be late for work. 

He didn’t really give a fuck. 

Keith would be all smug and probably make some remarks about Steve not even being worth the less-than-minimum wage he was making. 

He took a shower, not so much cleaning himself as letting the lukewarm water cascade down on him and hope it got rid of the stench of sweat and anxiety and bad sleep that was clinging angrily to his skin. 

His brain was empty. 

Empty save for the pounding otherness that were these horrible fucking feelings. 

Robin didn’t even have the heart to call him out for being nearly half an hour late.

“You look like shit.”

No, she just called him out for looking like shit. 

“Y’know, it’s really wonderful to have such a caring and thoughtful friend in these trying times.”

She rolled her eyes. He always told her one day she was gonna get stuck like that. With her eyes permanently fixed towards the ceiling in exasperation. 

“Drop the attitude, Steve Harrington. Just because you didn’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to suffer.” 

Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was joking. Steve just clenched his jaw and stared at her blankly. Either she would get mad at him, or sigh and roll her eyes. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. 

Bingo. 

She wasn’t actually mad at him. 

“You okay?”

“Jus’, some weirdness. Bad vibes.”

He couldn’t give her more than that. Couldn’t say I can feel someone else in my house and I don’t know if someone is hiding in my house or if I’m going crazy, oh and by the way, I was one of those freaky lab kids and I can manipulate and feel people’s thoughts and emotions, by the way.

That’s too much for a slow shift on a Saturday morning. 

That’s too much for really any time of any day.

No, Steve fully plans to take all that shit to the grave. Like a real man, his dad would say. 

“Well, if you could take your bad vibes back to rewind duty, that would leave all the good vibes up here to me.” She shooed him off with her hand, landing a quick slap square on his left asscheck when he groaned and dragged his feet dramatically on his way to the back room. 

Not that Steve would ever actually complain about rewind duty. Steve preferred doing it to anything else in the place. Especially re-shelving. That was just asking for someone to come ask him for a movie recommendation. Steve only watched the same five campy old westerns and when he recommends any of those, people seem to wanna get out of his face right quick. 

No, rewinding was dull and monotonous and solitary, all the shit that Steve really needed on a day like today. 

There was a strict routine and he didn’t have to think or do anything. 

Just sit. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. Put in re-shelve bucket. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. And again and again and again until all the tapes were ready to go. 

Hawkins tended to take out a lot of movies on the weekend. Not much else to do when you aren’t sixteen and ready to hit up any party you could possibly weasel your way into. 

So, Steve had about fifty some odd tapes to rewind from the past few days and he was feeling benignly excited about sitting in the small room for most of his shift. 

It was easy to pass the shift like that. 

Sitting with the quiet whirring of the tapes being tracked back to the beginning. Not having to deal with anyone’s thoughts except his own tedious ones about when he should take his lunch break and reminding himself to check the TV Guide for anything good tonight. 

It was an odd emptiness that took hold of him throughout the day. And he almost felt, well. 

Lonely. 

He almost felt lonely. 

Which is fucking bonkers because that horrible feeling of someone else had well and truly fucked him over last night, and well into this morning, but he kind. Missed. The other presence. 

He’s officially crazy. 

Someone find this boy a padded fucking cell because Steve Harrington has officially gone all kinds of batshit bananas wacky. 

He’s feeling lonely because the horrible not his feelings of fear and anger and betrayal and desperation aren’t clogging up his little brain sink. Even when they were, the brain sink was threatening to burst and leak all over his brain kitchen. 

Or something to that effect. 

He let his eyes unfocus, watching Jaws at double speed and backward for the fourth time that day. 

There was something about the foreign feelings he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around. 

Something twinging in the back of his brain, screaming at him to open his eyes and pay attention. 

But that’s never been Steve’s strong suit. 

-

“Stupid. Fucking. Vines .”

Hopper muttered to himself a lot. 

It was usually too muffled underneath his own bandana face covering and the hefty beard he had been sporting to discern whatever he was thinking, but it’s not like hating the awful black tendrils of gross plant/monster/everything-that-made-up-the-Upside-Down hybrid of vine-ish tentacles was something that just Hopper experienced. 

It was a sentiment they all shared as they hacked away at the new growth in the dilapidated Bradley’s Big Buys. 

They had already ransacked the general store five times over, and took as much as they could salvage from the wreckage of the other-dimensional mall. 

Supplies were needed, and they had to be smart about it. 

Things had been quiet lately. 

Not many beasties out and about since the night they all seemed to come to. 

Hopper had said something about the gate closing and the brain being cut off from the body. 

Billy hadn’t listened. 

He’d been scared off his ass and all that had really registered was clear for now. 

So, they made supply runs. And poked around town for any survivors left to take back to Basecamp Harrington. Only Billy called it that. 

They had the runs down to a system. 

Pry away any vines they could, burning them back as they went, making enough room to slip into the bargain store, gather as much canned food and grimy medical supplies as they could manage, and book it back to the relative safety of the big house on the edge of the forest. 

Nobody talked about what they’d do when they ran out of supplies. When they’d exhausted their resources and were stuck with nothing but the vines on the ground and the spores in the air. 

Billy got it. 

It’s not like he wants to hear he’ll probably die of starvation and/or a gangrenous infection before he’s eighteen. 

They just. Make do. 

Ration food and keep each other safe. 

Always thinking about the minute they’re in and the minute coming up. Not looking too far forward. 

There’s nothing to see too far in the future. 

Billy crashed the blunt end of his ax through the sliding door at the front of the store, clearing away as much as he could. 

Janet and Andrew would slip inside first go, taking as much as they could carry with them. Next round, Heather would take the little one and gather anything left. 

Billy would keep watch. 

He always kept watch. 

Things had been too good for too long. 

After the first wave of those who didn’t make it, the whole broken side of the Earth was too kind to them. Not sending horrible fleshy monsters to nearly suck out their very souls. 

Billy didn’t think this could last for much longer. 

Heather took the little one by the hand, rushing past her mother and Andrew as they returned with their supplies. Billy did a quick scan of them, noting no new injuries. Nothing out of the norm. 

Supply runs were choreographed down to the minute. 

Should the group not return in forty-five minutes, a search team was sent out. 

The small group trudged back to the Harrington safehouse, keeping in the shadows, not a single one of them daring to speak. Billy walked slightly behind the others, never letting himself relax for a single second. 

Things were too quiet.

-

The feeling hit Steve over the head like a sack of bricks being whacked against his skull. 

Walking into his home was like walking into a stinking den of fear and anxiety. The air was clogged with so many emotions Steve felt like he was choking on them, slowly being crushed under their weight. 

Whoever was emitting all these, Steve felt sorry for them. He can’t imagine living with this much bad energy taking up space in someone’s brain. He could barely cope with his own terrible bullshit. He doesn’t know how someone could cope with this. 

He tried to move through his evening to the best of his ability. 

He nearly set the house on fire when he left the tin foil covering on his frozen meal, causing the microwave to spark angrily at him, the potatoes underneath the corner of foil that had nearly caught fire to smolder and blacken. 

Even in the shower, the water as hot and steamy as he could stand, he felt that prickle he couldn’t get rid of. 

Like if he could just close his eyes and reach out far enough, his fingers would brush someone else. Someone nearby. 

He’s felt it before. That there was a person just out of reach. A person he could feel clear as a bell, but couldn’t alter. Couldn’t manipulate. Just had to experience everything that was going on inside and try to hold on for the ride. 

He wore headphones to bed, blasting a mixtape Robin had made for him last month. Something with a lot of heavy guitars and girls wailing about society. 

He doesn’t think it was all that good, but it helped. Helped him feel like maybe the person wasn’t seeping into his own soul. 

And the whining synth of Patti Smith finally let him get some goddamn sleep. 

  “Hello?”

It was his house. 

But it wasn’t his house. 

It was a blank void. It was nothing. It was nowhere. 

But for some reason, his brain kept telling him it was his house. 

“Harrington?”

It was Billy. Hargrove. 

But it wasn’t Billy. 

He was dirty, covered in soot and horrible black sludge that made Steve’s stomach churn. 

“Why are you in my house?”

Billy looked around the blank void all around them. Water sloshed on the floor, lapping at Billy’s black boots. Steve observed his own toes. 

He was barefoot, but he couldn’t feel the water. 

“This is your house?”

Steve didn’t want to explain. 

“You’re dead.”

“Could be soon.”

Nothing Billy said made any sense. But then, Billy never made much sense when he was alive, either. 

He was an enigma to Steve. A big question mark all wrapped up with a gorgeous face and perfect body.

“Where is this to you?”

Why was Steve’s brain so adamant on declaring this place his house?

“Somewhere safe.”

-

So. 

That’s something. 

Dreaming about Harrington. 

Not necessarily something that Billy wanted to have happen to him while he was experiencing the worst possible time in his life. 

Or maybe he did. 

He’d said it in the dream. 

Somewhere safe. 

It’s what he felt in that blackness. 

Safety. Warmth. Hope. 

All the shit he hasn’t felt since he opened his eyes in the rank-ass library. 

That darkness was like a harness, keeping him grounded to something real. Tucking him in gently at night and kissing him on the head. 

It made waking up that much shittier. 

Knowing he’d be on nightwatch with Heather and Janet tonight, he used resting up as an excuse to lay on his cot, hardly moving in the clouded air. 

He needed to process. 

There was something so fucking weird about that dream. 

It felt real in the moment, and he didn’t question anything that had happened. 

Why there was water on the ground at his feet? Why Harrington was there wearing pajamas Billy could only describe as skanky? All of this made perfect fucking sense to dream Billy. 

Awake Billy, had some fuckin’ questions. 

Mostly, those previously listed. As well as: what the fuck?

He blames seeing Steve specifically on being in his house. That makes sense. You tend to think about a guy quite a lot when you’re living in the broken shell of his family home. He blames seeing Steve in those itsy-bitsy shorts and a homemade cropped t-shirt on the well repressed sexual interest he refused to admit he felt towards the guy. 

All that made sense. 

But everything else. 

Steve said he was dead. 

Was he dead?

Was this Hell?

Purgatory?

He’s read The Divine Comedy, and this doesn’t quite match up with any of the shit Dante waxed on about. 

And dream Billy didn’t think that was a weird thing to say to someone. To accuse them of being dead. He just said could be soon and then acted like that was a normal fucking response. 

His head was spinning out of control. 

The only thing that made sense was when Billy said they were somewhere safe. 

Because, they were. 

Even in the void place, he knew they were safe. 

There was a small tapping sound on the wall next to the open door frame. 

The door had long since rotted right through. 

“Miss Janet sent me to see if you’re alright.”

Andrew was always calling Janet Holloway Miss Janet. 

It makes Billy wonder if manners like that were beaten into him by a father like Neil. 

He hopes not. 

He likes Andrew too much for that. 

Andrew hovered around while Billy swung himself out of his cot. 

He changed out the bandana over his mouth and nose. 

Most of them slept fully dressed, even with their shoes and socks still firmly on their feet. 

You had to be ready to go at the slightest sound of Bad in this place. 

Plus, everything was so goddamn dirty, what’s a little mud in the sheets in the grand scheme of things? And the rancid rotting smell of the Upside Down did wonders to cover the smell of body odor.

Billy followed Andrew down the L-shaped hallway, to the sitting room where he found Janet and Heather huddled together on one couch, the little one between them. 

“Apparently something happened on the run last night.” 

Billy’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t make out Janet’s expression under her face covering. The little one got up from his spot on the couch, standing in Billy’s shadow. He liked to do that. Billy figured he felt safe behind someone so much bigger and stronger than him. Someone with a big fuckin’ weapon that was never too far away. 

“Who’d we lose?”

“No one. Everyone’s okay. Hopper just called all of us for a discussion, then went to the basement.”

The basement was Hopper’s domain with his little chunk of the crew. 

He had found some busted up H.A.M. radio from somewhere he refused to explain, and spent all the time he wasn’t watching over his shoulder for threats or gathering supplies from smashed grocery stores, trying to fix it up, tuning it to different crackling stations, and yelling into it. 

El. El, I need you to copy if you can hear me. El!

-

The pillow was a mess of blood the next morning. 

It was congealed and cracked and tacky against his face and made the pillowcase stick to his cheek and his bloody upper lip in a way that kinda made Steve wanna puke a little bit. 

His nose had bled in the night. 

He never got nosebleeds. 

Unless he used his power. 

And that dream. 

That blank void space and that mucky scraggly Billy lookin’ like the hunky star of some apocalypse movie.

Wait.

Blood forgotten, smeared on his face and neck, Steve tossed himself towards the phone on his nightstand, smacking his shoulder against the wooden corner and tumbling to the floor, his legs still tangled in his sheets on the bed. 

He couldn’t deal with anything, snatching the phone up and punching in the only number that was grinding through his head. 

“ Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up, ” he muttered into the receiver. 

His upper body was still flopped over to the plush carpet, legs twitching and shaking on the bed with his anxiety. 

He’s had some massive fucking realizations and he needs backup. 

“This is the Byers.”

“Put El on the phone.”

-

“Oh. Steve’s covered in blood again. The Upside Down must really be back,” Dustin said in complete monotone as Steve opened the door. 

Steve couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. 

He felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, all coming in the neat package of a major breakdown. 

He felt manic and shaky and so what if he forgot he was covered in the aftermath of a superpower-nosebleed-explosion?

“Shut up. Just get in.”

El had rallied the old troops from St. Paul, calling everyone at the ass-crack o’fuck in the morning and saying something about catching some weird Hawkins vibes all the way from Minnesota. 

It was a fucking weak excuse, but explaining the whole Steve situation was just not really in the cards today. 

He’s got an agenda and they need to stick to it. 

Robin said she’d gather Max on the way to Steve’s place, and Nancy was probably hauling Mike and Lucas over faster than a speeding gun or whatever that expression is, so all Steve had to do was get his story straight. 

“And maybe you should think about putting on a clean shirt? At the very least. I’d say, maybe just start over. Take a shower. Powerwash your face, even.”

“When the fuck did you become sarcastic ?”

“Right after you became friends with the coolest chick on the planet and then decided you’re too good for her.”

“ Chick. Don’t call Robin a chick. And I’ve told you, we’re just friends. I’m not too good for her.”

Really, Steve thought she was too good for him. 

Well, that, and there’s the whole part where she’s super totally not into guys at all. 

“So, what’s this all about, anyway? Mike said on the phone that El called him and left a really cryptic message.”

“Look. She called me to explain and ask if everyone could meet here,” Steve lied. “I’ll give you guys a recap once the rest of the gang shows.”

“But she thinks there’s something going on with the Upside Down? Again ?”

“I think she knows there’s something going on with the Upside Down.”

The more Steve sat with the memory of how Billy looked in that dream, the more he was certain of where he was. 

Billy had been ratty. His normally perfect hair was long and limp, greasy on top and matted around his face. He was sporting a patchy beard, nothing like the fuckin’ pornstache the guy had been rocking all last summer. 

And he was filthy. Covered in grime and dirt, and Steve’s sure if he’d looked harder, he would’ve seen traces of that viscous black goo that only meant bad news. 

There was a squeal of tires, an alarm signaling the arrival of Nancy in her mother’s station wagon, toting her brother and Lucas. 

“I’m in this now, Lucas Sinclair!” came Erica’s voice from the entryway. 

Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Erica, you accidentally found out about all this!”

“So did you!”

The Sinclair siblings’ bickering was only cut by the sound of the Wheeler siblings snapping at one another in turn.

“Am I the only one that thinks it doesn’t make sense to meet up this early? El and Will are like, seven hours away!”

“Mike! It doesn’t matter. We all have to talk and figure out what’s going on.”

The sounds of arguments all quieted abruptly as the four people rounded the corner and caught sight of Steve.

“Oh, Jesus. Who kicked your ass this time?” Mike snipped at Steve. 

Oh, yeah. He keeps forgetting he’s covered in his own nose blood. 

“What? It’s nothing. I kicked my own ass. Just take a seat.”

“I told you to-”

Steve didn’t wanna hear it. 

He loves all these people, but his head kinda felt like it was full of mushy jelly and runny pudding and all the loud talking wasn’t doing much to help. 

He stepped out onto the porch, snagging the pack of cigarettes he kept stowed in the flower box next to the door. 

It took two to finally tame his nerves any. 

Sitting there with all the people in his house waiting for an explanation, he kinda felt like his haphazard plan was shit and going to fall through immediately. 

Just tell them El called. Tell them she saw Billy in the nowhere place and she thinks he’s alive. Easy as pie. 

The tell-tale sound of a skateboard making its way closer and closer announced Max before he saw her. 

Robin was pedaling next to her, helmet lopsided on her head and not buckled underneath her chin. 

They were talking animatedly to one another, their laughter dying as soon as they saw Steve waiting for them.

“Fuck. So this is real.”

“Why does everyone think I got the shit beat outta me?”

“Your ass gets creamed every time some spooky shit goes down in this place, Harrington,” Max informed him. 

She was a little Billy replica, all the way down to the way the corner of her mouth twitched up when she said his name. 

It would’ve been sad. The way she tried to become her brother after losing him so violently last summer. 

But something like relief settled into his bones, strong and real and wait ‘til I tell her Billy’s not dead and he was laughing. Curling in on himself cackling so hard his stomach had already begun to get sore

“Fuck. He’s lost it,” Robin sighed, ditching her bike next to Dustin’s and heaving Steve up, both hands underneath his armpits.

-

Nobody dared speak. 

“And you’re sure? You’re positive you heard one of those things?”

Janet had her arms twisted over her chest, her jaw tight as she watched Hopper’s every move. 

“It’s not really a sound you forget.”

Billy’s hand was shaking, he was gripping the ax so hard. 

“So, we’re fucked,” Angela said harshly. Her cold voice sent ice down Billy’s spine. “If those things are back, we don’t stand a fucking chance.”

Hopper scrubbed his hand over his brow, sighing through the cloth over his mouth and nose.

“It just means I have to try harder. I can get to El, I know I can.”

Hopper said that a lot. But he never explained what getting to El meant. 

Heather had explained she met El once, but she said it was weird and she only saw her like some kind of shadow, a figment in this dark empty place. Somewhere as cold and broken as the Upside Down felt. 

The little one was leaned up against Billy, his left hand balled in the edge of Billy’s leather jacket. He stood like that a lot. It was grounding for Billy. Kinda like holding Max’s hand when she was young and still thought he was the coolest person she’d ever met. 

“But, you only heard something, right? So it very well could be nothing.” Timothy was good at keeping mediator. He always kept a level head and talked slowly and calmly. They needed someone like him in this nightmare.

“They make this noise. This kind of wet chirping. Like this gurgle that just sounds like they’re watching you, ready to pounce out at any time, shrieking and attacking. It’s not a sound you forget.” Hopper had this horrible haunted look on his face, and Billy fucking believed him. 

“Then we up nightwatch. Stick together,” Billy offered. He never usually piped up with strategy, but that’s the best he’s got, and frankly, he thinks it’s the only way they’d all be able to make it through. 

“Exactly. We move in a pack now. Keep track of everyone together, and stay aware of what’s around us. I think we should do a major run and then lock up for a few days to see what goes down.” 

Hopper leaned back in the ratty armchair he was taking up, looking around to see if anyone challenged his ideas. 

Billy had given up his alpha male attitude the second Hopper yanked his upper arm and nearly screamed at him, asking Billy if he was ‘one of the flayed’ all while aggressively checking him over for injuries. 

First time any of Neil’s lessons actually sunk in. 

Respect and responsibility. 

If that fucker could see Billy now, doing nothing but respecting authority and taking responsibility for all these peoples’ lives. 

“We should rest up. Take a run tonight. Get a lay of the land,” Timothy said with an air of finality. Nobody argued. 

Hopper nodded. 

Everyone broke out from the Harringtons’ living room, milling around to get prepared for tonight’s run. Taking stock of what they needed to keep going for the next few days. 

Billy was itching to slide back into his cot and try to seek out that space if he can. The empty space where Harrington and that warm feeling of safe existed. 

The little one stayed clinging to his jacket, and Billy took a loose hold of his wrist, trying to provide some kind of basic comfort to the tiny kid. 

“You wanna go raid the cabinet?” The kid stared up at Billy with big eyes. Billy could never tell what color they were in the gloom. He thinks maybe green. 

The cabinet was a large door, built into the wall of the sitting room, and clearly where the Harringtons kept their games. 

They had these excruciating couple thousand-piece puzzles, the pictures peeling and faded on the pieces. They had Trivial Pursuit and backgammon, and all kindsa shit. 

The little one went and pulled out the checkers board. That was the only game Billy knew how to play anyhow. 

He and Max used to sit for hours, playing with this dinosaur-themed checker game Max’s dad got for her one birthday. 

It helped, playing a game. Helped pass the time. Help bait the anxiety. 

Helped them all feel a little bit closer to human.

-

“I don’t. Get it.”

Apparently, Nancy was not the only one, if the blank stares Steve was receiving from around his living room were anything to go by. 

“Yeah, why did she call you ?” Mike’s snitty tone was really grating on Steve’s fragile nerves.

“She said, she called to make sure everyone could come over here before she told you all to just show up this early on a Sunday morning and then she kinda explained what happened.”

Max was white as a sheet, tracking Steve like he was playing a horrible joke on her. 

“And she saw Billy. Billy Hargrove .” 

Steve nodded at Dustin. 

“Why does she think he’s in the Upside Down?” Robin asked, perched on the coffee table, sitting closest to where he was standing nervously. 

“She just knows .”

It was frustrating, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation without just spilling his guts. 

He rubbed absentmindedly at the cigar burn on his wrist. 

“I just don’t believe this. I talked to her three days ago, and she’s still having trouble with her powers. She can barely move a book, and hasn’t been able to get to the void since July, and you’re saying she accidentally saw Billy Hargrove, who we all saw murder a bunch of people and then get killed -”

“Shut up! He wasn’t himself!” Max shrieked out over Mike, the only time she’d even opened her mouth since Steve had mentioned her stepbrother’s name.

“Even if he is alive, El couldn’t have seen him! It doesn’t make sense!” Mike’s voice rose over Max’s, and Steve has a fucking headache and he’s over it.

“It was me! I had a dream. I went to the void. I saw Billy in the Upside Down. I called El to say she saw him.” 

Everyone went dead silent, staring at him.

“Steve,” Robin began, searching his face.

It was like all the wind that had been filling up his sails, powering his energy ship, had suddenly quit blowing. 

Steve was tired. 

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs where he sat.

“I need you all to shut the fuck up for a moment and let me explain, because I only wanna say all this shit once.” He covered his bloody face with his hands. “I’m like El.”

That statement hung in the air for a moment. 

And then there was a roar of noise.

“How could you keep this a secret?” Dustin shouted.

“Not in a million years !” Lucas decided. Erica yelled something back at him, vaguely defending Steve, which was nice.

“You mean you came from the lab?” Mike had a look on his face like he’d swallowed a particularly bitter lemon. 

“Everybody, shut the fuck up!” Max roared, glowering at each person until they were silent again. 

In all this Robin hadn’t said a word. She was pale, staring at Steve.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into it because it fucking sucks to think about,” Steve still hadn’t uncovered his face. “But yeah. I was in the lab. I got out because they decided I was a failed experiment. My mom worked at the lab and she took me and we pretended like the three of us moved here from Oklahoma and my dad told me never to tell anyone. And I haven’t. Didn’t even tell El. She recognized me from then. Don’t even know how, I left when she was like, three. Doesn’t matter. I’m a freaky lab kid and last night I fell asleep and saw Billy in that-what’d you call it? The void? Yeah, I saw him, and he’s covered in dirt and gross black Upside Down shit, and he’s fucking stuck there, and now we’re here.”

There was another silence. 

Steve didn’t dare to look at any of them.

He didn’t want them to laugh in his face. Tell him he was making all this shit up and leave him alone to deal with Billy trapped somewhere else. 

He wanted them to take his word for it. To quietly believe this crazy fucking shit of a story because the scared other feeling was back and clawing at his spine and making him want to burrow into the ground and find somewhere safe and secure and-

“Okay.”

Of course it was Robin. 

It was always Robin. 

Steve let himself look at her. 

She was pale, but she was smiling at him. 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Steve nodded once.

“Okay. Uh, great.”

“Wait, if you’re defective, no offense, then how did you see Billy?” 

Steve stared at Max weighing his answer carefully. 

“Because, well, the defective thing, that was all, I didn’t mean to, that was before I really understood what I could do. Don’t get me wrong, it really worked out, but it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Sailor Man.”

“ Erica .”

Erica just rolled her eyes at Lucas. 

“Okay. Uh, before I explain, just, just keep in mind that I have rules, and I don’t use my powers if I can avoid them, and I’d never use them to be a creep, but-”

“Steve!”

“Fine!” The words were right there, ready to tumble out of his mouth and ruin his life forever. 

There was no going back after this. 

The second they knew, everything would be different.

“I can feel other peoples’ emotions and, like, change them.”

Another silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Nancy was the last person he’d ever want to have this conversation with. 

He knows what she’s thinking. He knows that the great anger brewing inside her is because she assumes he made her like him. Made her attracted to him. 

Made her want him. 

“I don’t use it like that. I would never, put something there that shouldn’t be there. It’s just, When someone feels something near me, I can tap into it. Let it become my own feelings. And then I just, change it. Just a little.” He cast around for a harmless example because so far, everyone was staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Robin!”

She startled slightly when he yelled at her.

“Okay, so Robin. I’d never, ever make you feel something not true to you. Like, I’d never make it so you were into me when you’re totally not, right?” He cast a glance at Nancy. “But, like, the other day, when you felt really shitty when I invited you over and you were studying, I just, I made it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I felt all this guilt you had for leaving me alone when you thought I was having a shitty day, and I made it so you didn’t feel guilty because you shouldn’t. That’s the kinda level I allow myself to work on.”

The look Robin was giving him was breaking his fucking heart. 

Worse still, was the feeling of betrayal that began eating away at her. 

“So, right now. You can tell what we’re all feeling?” Even Lucas, ever the level-headed one, couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I don’t want to. I don’t try to, but I can’t really avoid it. I just try to ignore it. But sometimes, sometimes if I bottle it all up for a while, it comes crashing out of me, and that’s when bad shit happens. If I don’t use it occasionally, it only wakes things worse, and I-”

“I can’t hear this.”

Robin’s anger crashed through Steve like a wave, nearly knocking him over. She stood, towering over him. 

“When we were in that bathroom, all drugged out of our minds. I-” she sniffed, rage tears pooling in her eyes. Steve likes her eyes. So crystal blue. “Are we even really friends?”

Her last question was nothing more than a whisper. 

And it made Steve wish he was never born.

He gaped at her like a dead fish.

“Rob, of course we are! I would never-”

“Because I hated you. And then one summer. Two whole months where we’re close enough that you can get all up in my brain, and suddenly I’m telling you shit I’ve never told anyone before.”

“It wasn’t, Robin I swear, that whole time, I never once used-”

She held up her hand, cutting him off. 

A sob caught in his throat as she turned on her heel. 

She slammed the door closed behind her. 

Another fucking silence. 

Steve couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Their feelings were enough for him now, betrayal and anger and disappointment rushing into his lungs, drowning him. Choking him. 

“You’ve used them on all of us.”

It wasn’t a question. 

It was just a statement. The coldest he’s ever heard Dustin sound. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“Jesus, Steve. You realize that’s actually totally fucked up, right? You can’t just make us feel whatever you want,” Dustin bellowed at him, standing up like Robin had done, looking down at Steve where he sat pathetically on the floor. 

And, when it’s put like that. 

Sure. 

It’s kinda fucked up. 

But he’s only ever meddled in a way that’s good. He only ever tries to make his friends feel the positives. Hell, on the night of that stupid Snow Ball, he’d given Dustin enough self-confidence to make Madonna seem insecure. 

All he does is try to help. 

“All I do is try to help.”

More fucking silence. 

Steve was so goddamn sick of silence. All he had was silence. He had the nothing, empty quiet. And he didn’t want it from the people who were supposed to make his life loud. 

“El won’t be here until later tonight. I think we should just meet up then.”

Steve buried his head in his hands, biting back sobs as the small group filtered out of his house. 

This is why he had wanted to take this secret with him to death. 

He told everyone who he really is, and now they all hate him, and he’s completely alone, and wherever Billy is he’s fucking scared and-

“Steve?”

Max’s voice was small, mirroring the way she was curled in on herself in the plush armchair near the wall. 

“Do you really think Billy’s alive?”

Steve nodded at her, desperately begging her to stay. To help him. 

“I know he is.”

“I have an idea.”

-

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. 

Doesn’t remember much of anything in this place. 

He studied the water lapping at his muddy boots, dragging his toes through it to make the water wave and ripple. 

It didn’t make a sound. 

“I want to help.”

Billy knew Steve was there even before he spoke. 

Something about the warmth he brought to the void place. 

The safety. 

“Don’t know if you can.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile at that. His face was covered in blood, dried and flaking away from his skin, painted all the way down his face and neck, some staining the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“That happens when the only interactions you have with a guy are to beat his ass.”

Steve cracked a real smile at that. Something big and bright that made Billy’s gut twist in a way he didn’t quite like. 

“You’re forgetting all those other times we spent together. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Yeah, Billy knows. 

Mostly because he wasn’t trying to be subtle. 

He had talked to Steve about his bitchy ex while they both had their dicks out in the shower. He was trying to be very much un-subtle. 

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know.”

Oh. 

Steve knows. 

And all he had done was stare blankly at Billy. 

Nice. 

“I need to know where you are.”

“Why?” 

“Because I can help.”

Billy just blinked at Steve. 

“Do you know El?”

Something funny happened to Steve’s face. He kind of gave a little smile that flickered into a frown and landed on something a little pinched and awkward. 

“Yeah. How do you know her?”

“Hopper keeps saying he needs to get to her. None of us know what he’s talking about.”

And with that, Steve’s eyes went huge, and his jaw dropped. The water at Billy’s ankles sloshed quietly. 

“Hopper’s there? Chief Hopper? Jim Hopper is there?”

“Jesus, yeah. Been here since we all woke up.”

Steve acted like Billy had told him that Farrah Fawcett herself was on her way to shave his head. 

Meaning, he looked struck fucking dumb. 

“I’m gonna need you to explain.”

“I don’t know. Don’t remember much. Crashed my car on one of your shitty backwoods roads, and then everything is just, kinda, gone. I woke up in this shithole version of the library and Hopper found me here and we’ve kinda set up camp.”

Billy shrugged lamely. Something was dripping, he could hear the sound of it far behind him.

“There’s more of you? How many?”

“Not as many as there should be.”

Steve’s mouth pinched, and his big droopy eyes went all sweet and sad. 

“Where are you? Where’s the camp?”

Billy was suddenly embarrassed. There was a sound like a stream flowing over rocks.

What’s he supposed to say? The hellscape skeleton of your house oh and by the way all your stuff is here and I slept in your bed once because I was scared and sad.

“Someone’s house. Don’t know whose.”

Steve huffed some air out of his nostrils, his mouth pinching again. 

Billy hadn’t realized someone could make so many different expressions just by pursing their lips in different ways. 

“Find out. We’re coming to get you.”

A crash of a wave, and Billy was back in hell. 

-

Steve sucked in lungfuls of air, tossing the towel that had been covering his eyes to the ground. 

“You saw him.” 

Max was sitting in front of him, the t.v. playing static behind her. 

“Yeah. He’s okay. I mean, he’s really gross. Like, he’s-sorry. He’s okay.”

Max was still staring at him like she didn’t quite know how to proceed. 

“But he’s in the Upside Down?”

“Yeah. And there’s others. He said Hopper’s there, that he’s been trying to contact El.”

“Wait, Hopper? He’s alive?”

“Billy said all of the flayed woke up after the Fourth of July in the Upside Down. He doesn’t know anything that happened in this world, and Hopper was there and they’ve set up, like, some kind of camp, or whatever. He said they’re in someone’s house. He doesn’t know who.”

“ Fuck .”

Yeah, Steve agrees with that sentiment. 

This whole thing was like, kind of a lot. 

And deep inside him, those other feelings had yet to leave him alone all day. 

There was some kind of disappointment knocking about in his brain. 

He knows it’s Billy. 

All of those other feelings, it’s whatever Billy is feeling right that minute wherever he is. 

And it only happens when Steve is-

“Max, he’s here.”

She whipped around behind her, staring at the front door like Billy could waltz through it at any moment. 

“No, no not here, here .” She clearly didn’t understand. He used the towel to wipe the fresh blood from his upper lip, still having yet to clean himself up any. “The camp, the safeplace, it’s here. They’ve set up in my house!”

It felt like a revelation on par with the greatest inventions. Steve felt like the scientist that landed the man on the moon or the very first person to melt cheese onto fries. 

A genius. 

“So, he’s, I mean, he could be, just, here .” She looked over the room wistfully, and Steve knew how she felt. Like she wanted to pierce her hands into thin air, tearing a hole in between the two worlds and ripping Billy straight outta hell. 

(Really, she just filled him with a wave of fierce determination, but Steve likes to take poetic license on other people’s feelings sometimes.)

“And you can feel him.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he, okay?”

And he knows this question. 

Not the okay he assured her of when he first saw Billy. Soothing that he wasn’t missing any internal organs or possessed by any monsters. 

She wants to know if he’s held it together. 

“He’s scared. He’s always scared. But he’s really fucking stubborn, and he- I don’t know why he feels these things, but sometimes he gets kinda sad. Almost like he’s lost something, and sometimes, it feels like he’s caught fire, and his insides are just going up in flame and he gets overwhelmed by them. And sometimes he feels-” He hadn’t meant to continue.

“Tell me.”

He’s pretty sure Max knew what he was going to say next. 

She just wanted it confirmed. 

“Hopeless. Sometimes he feels hopeless.”

She sniffed, her eyes shining as she looked anywhere that wasn’t Steve. 

“But, we know now. He doesn’t have to be hopeless anymore. We’ll find a way in, and we’ll get him out.”

He didn’t want to manipulate her. 

He didn’t want to cross the boundaries everyone clearly thought he already had. 

But he was positive he would find a way to Billy. He was positive he would get him out and get him home. 

He sent a wave of that determination and hope and conviction to her. 

“Yeah. We’ll get him.”

-

“Hopper, man, some funky shit is going down.”

Hopper whirled around quickly, halfway to his feet and asking who's been hurt before Billy raised both hands, acting like he was calming an anxious horse.

“Nah, sorry, shoulda worded that better. I just mean, something’s happened to me. With me, maybe. I don’t know. Just hear me out. This shit’s gonna sound, insane.”

Hopper didn’t say anything as Billy explained, beginning with that night when the wall shattered next to his head, and ending with his most recent trip to the void place. 

Billy shrugged lamely when he finished explaining. 

“So, Harrington, huh? Never woulda guessed he was like her. You sure you didn’t see a little girl anywhere in the blank place?”

“No. It was just us. Both times.”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, scratching a hand through his thick beard. 

“The first time one of the demogorgons showed up on our side was behind Steve’s house. Took Will Byers from his shed. They live some few miles away. Second time was in Harrington’s backyard. Took Barbara Holland.” Hopper sighed, looking in the direction of the busted radio. Billy could more or less see the cogs turning in his head. “If you see him again, tell him where we are. Tell him I think the walls are thinnest here. That maybe he and El could tear through. Better yet, tell him to find me if he can.”

He clapped Billy on the shoulder, looking right at him in that way he did sometimes. It always made Billy feel like a little kid. 

“Thank you, kid. You might’ve just saved us.”

Billy felt awkward and didn’t really know what to do with his face. Thankfully, Hopper turned away from him, cutting the moment short and moving back to fiddling with the old radio. 

Billy ducked his way up and back to the furthest bedroom on the ground floor, taking a seat on his low cot and digging his palms into his eyes. 

He didn’t know how the void happened. If he could only get there in his sleep, or if it was Steve’s doing somehow. 

“C’mon, Steve. Where are you? Come find me, Pretty Boy. We gotta talk.”

When he moved his hands away, he was in that blank place. 

Billy was taken aback a bit, thinking somehow he had created the place around him. 

Until he saw Steve, standing nervously and staring at Billy. 

“I felt you. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, you felt me? What in the fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened? Are you guys okay?”

Steve wasn’t covered in blood anymore. 

In fact, he looked freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and soft-looking without product. 

It’s how he always looked right after having a post-practice shower. Clean and warm. Soft and inviting. 

“I talked to Hopper. He told me to give you a message.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, and he took a step towards Billy, the water rippling where his foot disturbed the surface. 

“He said, well. He told me where we are. Apparently, we’re at your place.” Billy tried to smirk a little, act like this was brand new information to him.

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“He thinks the walls are thinnest at your place. Said that maybe you and El could tear through easily. That mean anything to you?”

Steve nodded so hard his bangs flopped right into his eyes. 

He pushed his hair out of his face, tucking some behind his ear. Billy tracked the movement. 

“We’re going to try tonight. Maybe around six. Can you guys be ready by then?”

“We don’t have any way to track time around here. Don’t even know if it’s day or night, really.”

Steve bit his soft bottom lip, looking at Billy like he wanted to cry for him. 

“Then I’ll come and get you before. Warn you when we’re about to start. Make sure everyone stays close. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it sustained, and we want to get everyone out if we can.”

“Steve, man, what in the fuck is going on? I’ve been shut up in this place for, for I don’t even know how long, and all of a sudden, you just start showing up in my head and telling me that you’re gonna take point on this big fuckin’ rescue mission.”

Billy doesn’t want to admit it to anyone, least of all Steve Harrington, but he’s scared, and confused, and he genuinely wishes that he had died in that library instead of waking up. 

“I’ll explain it when you get back.” 

And Steve smiled at him and the corners of his eyes crinkled and Billy didn’t quite feel like he wanted to die anymore. 

-

“Where are they?”

El didn’t even say hello when she pushed Steve’s front door open, just made straight for Max and Steve in the sitting room.

“They’re all being dicks,” was Max’s answer. “Steve told us about how you two know each other, and everyone kinda freaked.”

“I mean, it’s pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, sure, but they didn’t need to be such shitbirds about it.”

Somewhere between feeling harshly angry at Steve and his powers and hearing her brother’s voice crackle through the television speaker, Max had pretty much ensconced Steve as her sidekick. 

Which he didn’t mind in the least. 

It was kinda odd seeing the Byers in his house. 

Jonathan looked. Exactly the same. 

Like literally. His hair had grown out since his mother had taken a pair of scissors and a bowl to it last summer, and he looked just like the Hawkins Jonathan Steve was used to. 

It was kinda nice. 

At least one thing hasn’t changed. 

Especially because Will is pretty much unrecognizable. 

He had shot up, growing until he could nearly look Steve in the eye. And thank God, he must've followed Jonathan’s footsteps and stopped letting Joyce cut his hair. 

It was longer, adn shaggier, but it made him look so grown up. 

Nearly as grownup as El, her hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, the top of her head coming up on Steve’s chin, showing off the signs of her own growth spurt. 

Even Joyce was sporting a new look. Longer hair with bangs that were swept off her face.

She gave Steve a comforting hug, and those were just the same. 

Unease filled the room. 

Nobody knew what they were walking into. El had to have given them the basics, and Steve figures she explained some on the long drive back to town, but there had been even more developments since the last they had spoken this morning. 

Steve sifted through the borderline panic of Max and the Byers, clinging onto the fierce calm that El was radiating. Probably for his benefit more than her own actual experience. 

“I know where Billy is. We talked. I have an idea.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the feelings. “Hopper’s alive.”

It took a second. 

El’s carefully maintained calm wavered for a moment. 

And then it crashed down. 

Disbelief, relief, denial, anger, hope, joy. 

Everything a person could possibly feel at once poured out of El and Joyce both, nearly knocking Steve off his feet with the sheer velocity of the emotions. 

“Saw him?”

“No. But Billy mentioned him. He said he’s been trying to get to you.”

El’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve could feel the satisfaction, the pride, welling up in her that Hopper was still thinking of her. That he was trying to reach out. 

“My powers,” she trailed off.

“Yeah. I know. But, he said, well, he told Billy to tell me, he thinks the walls are thinnest here. Maybe in the woods outback. He thinks we can do it.”

Sorry,” Joyce interrupted. She had gathered herself somewhat, but her feelings were still shaky. 

She always felt like she was trembling emotionally. Joyce felt everything nearly as viscerally as Billy did. 

“I think we’re not on the same page. Steve, you spoke to Billy? El said she sensed him.”

“Steve is like me. From Papa.”

“You mean, from the lab?” Jonathan clarified. 

Everyone was staring at Steve again and he felt like burrowing a hole right through the floor and hiding underground forever. 

“Yeah, I got out when I was a kid. My parents were pretty hell-bent on hiding it from everyone. But. You know. Cat’s outta the bag now. But yes, it was me who saw Billy. He’s in the Upside Down. A bunch of people are. Including Hopper. It sounds like they were all taken and the flayed people out here were like, fake. Like evil twin versions.”

Sure, it’s a shitty explanation.

It’s the best he can do, okay? Leave him alone. 

“So, what’s his plan, then?”

That’s the good thing about the Byers, though. They get the whole, priority thing. Now’s not the time to focus on shit like Steve’s fake life. Not when the Upside Down is concerned. 

“Billy didn’t say much. Just that he thinks maybe El and I could like, band together to open it. I don’t really know how, I mean, I haven’t thought about it much, I just spoke to him, but that's the idea. I told him I would meet him in the void or whatever before we go so he can gather everyone and get ready.”

“So, is it just us?” Will asked quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. He was disappointed. His friends not being where they were needed. Not being there to see him for the first time since his family moved away months ago. 

Steve shrugged.

He was battling his own disappointment and hurt at everyone ditching him. 

“No. Let’s start calling. We need to stick together for this one. Billy hasn’t said anything about how bad the Upside Down has been, and we need to be ready to fight off anything that tries to get through.”

“Max is right. They should be here.” Will was already making his way to the phone placed on the side table. “They need to be here.” 

Jonathan caught Steve’s eye, jerking his head slightly to the hallway. 

Steve followed him, already knowing the line of questioning that was about to hit him. 

“I knew you called El. I picked up this morning. Now the story makes a lot more sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting this weird feeling for a couple months, but I finally put it all together. Probably would’ve happened faster it is was El.”

“I don’t know. She’s been struggling a lot. She practices every day, but,” he sighed” I don’t know if she’s strong enough to make this work.”

He’s worried, adn scared, and has that exact same tremble-feeling that his mother does. 

“I know. I just don’t think we can leave them any longer. Billy said they’ve already lost people. I don’t know what it’s been like for them, but they’ve been stuck for fucking months, and-”

This time, it hit him so hard he really did blackout. 

His vision clouded around him, and his whole body burned with the raging fear inside of him. 

He could hear something, could hear someone screaming, adn something, something that sounded horrible, and so very very like a-

-

“Demogorgon!”

It’s like it had come out of nowhere. 

This towering figure, long and thin in all the wrong fucking ways.

And the sound. Billy realized what Hopper meant about how it’s not something you forget. 

They were in some form of a ready position. 

Billy among the front of the group, holding his ax he had never let go of in the first place. 

His heart was pounding. 

We’ll be out soon. We’ll be out soon. 

He didn’t believe it. 

How could he?

How the fuck is Steve Harrington going to get them out of the worst place ever? No offense to him or anything, but the guy could barely make a goddamn milkshake without spilling something on the sticky tile floor of Scoops Ahoy! and now, Billy’s life is in this guy’s hands while he stares into the jaws of a monster that looks like it stepped right out of H.P. Lovecraft’s wettest dreams.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s had this realization, but he is in way over his fucking head. 

“Steve,” Billy grumbled to himself through gritted teeth. “If you can hear me, get us the fuck outta here.”

The thing ahead of them wasn’t moving. It stood in the line of the trees behind Steve’s house. 

It was staring down the clump of people on the other side of the backyard. 

The air was still. 

Billy’s ears were ringing. 

He stared the thing down. 

Its long fingers twitched. 

Someone screamed. 

And the thing charged. 

It roared like nothing Billy had ever heard before. A shriek that seemed to vibrate Billy’s bones and tremble the earth underneath his feet. 

It charged. 

Sprinting forward on long thin legs, it loped with a grace that turned Billy’s stomach and made his knees wobble and threaten to give out. 

Plant your feet. 

It rang through his head, Steve’s voice from, some time Billy couldn’t remember. Or maybe Steve was just the little voice that commanded his bravery now. 

Either way, he dug the balls of his feet into the cracked ground, and waited. 

Don’t stop fighting.

He swung. 

The ax clocked right into the side of the thing, barely cutting into its thick leathery skin, but it slowed it down. 

Well, actually. 

It made it change course from attacking the group as a whole, to honing in on Billy. 

Which was less than awesome. 

Billy wrenched the ax out of its tough body, thick, sticky black goo connecting the ax with its entry point as he drew it away. 

He swung again, nearly hitting the same place. 

The thing cried out, roaring over the sound of screaming and gunshots. 

Hopper had his rifle trained on the flowered head of the one Billy was furiously chopping into like a tree. 

There were two more, two he hadn’t noticed in his preoccupation with the one in front of him. 

He didn’t know who was who. Which gunshot belonged to which gun, which shriek belonged to which animal. 

He didn’t know if the cries of pain were from the awful beasts or the people in his camp. He was hoping the former. 

He swung again. There was a sickening sound of the metal blade connecting with something solid. Something like bone. 

Hopper shot it, once, twice in the head. 

It was whining, making a high-pitched noise as it staggered about. 

One last blow to the side of the thing, and it was finished. 

The monster flopped onto the ground, dark liquid oozing out of it, its body nearly split in half where Billy had hammered it with his ax. A great gaping wound that showed sticky dark entrails. 

Billy turned. 

His brain was working in slow motion as he charged into the battle still raging. 

He didn’t know how many of the things had arrived. 

All he knew was taking them out.

His arms were sore from the force he was putting into each blow with his ax. His muscles threatened to give out at any moment.

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

The thought was shoved into his head. He didn’t know where it came from but he believed it. 

“Help is on the way!” He shouted to no one and everyone. 

He had taken down two more demogorgons with the help of the others. One was missing its body, a petal head lolling on the ground, getting trampled on in the fight. 

-

Steve had felt the demogorgon before Billy saw it. 

It was an odd feeling, almost like it was a black hole sucking up everything he thought and felt before he could cling onto it. 

It made him feel cold, and empty, and just like the Upside Down felt. 

“We don’t have time!”

El was insisting on contacting the others. She was livid with them for abandoning Steve, but things were taking a turn for the small group trapped in that hellscape. 

“Steve’s right. If there’s a demogorgon there, that means the Mind Flayer has gotten some strength back, wherever he is.”

Steve nodded at Will gratefully.

“But, what’s the idea? You two open the gate. Then what? We wait for those things to come through to our side?” Jonathan asked, kinda harshly, if you ask Steve.

Steve rubbed his eyes, his fists pressing against them so hard he was seeing odd shapes. 

“No. I go through. I get them. I bring them back.” His head was a fucking mess. Billy was all over the place. Fear, desperation, and a horrible calm that only came when things looked like the end. Plant your feet, he thought, trying to get his feelings to Billy through the thin dimensional wall. Don’t stop fighting. “For the past few days, all I’ve been able to feel is somebody else’s fucking fear and this stupid stupid stubbornness and I know it’s Billy, and I know he’s in trouble. Like right now. The demogorgons are coming for them, and he’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared and he thinks he’s gonna die, and he’s trapped .”

He looked at each person individually, glaring at them all in the eye. 

“We don’t have time.”

So it was decided. 

He brought El outside, and stared into the shimmering water of the pool. 

The pool where a demon came out and dragged Barbara to her death. 

It gave him the fucking creeps. Well, it more gave him the severe anxiety, but there was something about it that made it seem like it was the best place to try and rip the fold between himself and Billy. 

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

He wanted Billy to have some hope. Something like a lifeline that would keep him fighting the monsters. 

He had wrenched his nail bat out of the wall it was still planted in from a few nights ago, and stood next to El, ready to try. 

“To be honest, I don’t know how to help you.” It was the only thing that scared him about this plan. “I don’t have the same powers as you. The telekin-the moving stuff around. I don’t know how to open this.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. 

“In Chicago. Kali. When I’m angry my powers are better,” she took his hand. “Make me angry.”

Steve closed his eyes. 

He tried to push Billy to the side, clinging onto the first bit of El he could sense. 

Her anger was like a melted core running through her. Driving her in a lot of ways. 

He grabbed onto it. 

Papa. Everything he did to your mama. Being locked in isolation. Fights with Hopper. Being trapped in the cabin. Feeling alone and not knowing how to fix it. New kids at school being mean. Techs in the lab that treated us like rats. The smell of skin burning. Parents that called you a freak. 

He didn’t know when he had stopped using El’s ready-made rage, and began siphoning his own straight into the beating heart of her fury. 

His gut began to feel white-hot, and he could feel the blood dripping down his lip. 

Lying to everyone. Being abandoned for the truth. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. 

Steve was livid. 

He’s never felt an emotion consume him like this. Felt one feeling take over so completely it’s like there was nothing else in the world. 

He opened his eyes. 

There was blood flowing steadily from El’s nose, and he knew his was doing the same. 

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, his body going into overdrive to divert all of his energy to his powers. 

The rift glowed red through the clear pool water, splitting open like a seam on a well-worn shirt. 

The burn on his arm ached, and he pushed into it. 

He remembered being held down on his father’s desk. Remembers the cigar being forced against his skin, bubbling up and disfiguring the tattoo beyond recognition. 

He remembers his father, this is for your own good, Steven. You’ll tell everyone you had an accident. People won’t question a burn like they will a tattoo. 

Like no one would take one look at the quarter-sized mark and know what would make it. 

He remembers getting the tattoo. 

It was nearly the same process. 

He was strapped down in a chair, his screams going ignored as the needle drove into his skin over and over, leaving a neat black number behind. 

001

Number One. 

The first in a series of children bred for something more, and beaten into acceptance. 

His head felt like it could explode. He didn’t know what was going on around him, was barely aware of El’s sweaty hand in his, and the bright red light coming from the cracked bottom of the pool. 

It was open. 

Number One took a deep breath, and dived into the pool. 

-

It was the little one that noticed it. 

Billy had been trying to yell at him to get back inside, to keep himself out of harm’s way. 

They had killed six demogorgons, and more were certainly coming. 

The trees in the forest were rustling in a way they never did on their own. 

The little one was pointing frantically, his eyes wide and scared. 

Billy turned, and his blood ran cold. 

Something was moving in the pool. 

It was making the thick non-water slosh around dangerously, the dark liquid lapping over the sides and staining the concrete. 

There were vines crisscrossing over the surface of the liquid, and Billy approached it carefully, hoping whatever was coming out would be trapped underneath them. 

“This is the last fucking thing we need,” Hopper gritted out, cocking his rifle and aiming at the sludge. 

And then Billy’s head felt like it had been cracked open. 

He was blinded with pain and rage and 

Help me, Hargrove!

He started swinging his ax wildly at the vines. Trying to break them apart enough for a body to fit through. 

His heart thundered in his chest, and he dropped to his knees, ripping at the slimy black tendrils. 

He shoved his left arm in.

It was like dousing his arm in ice. Like the liquid was made from the purest essence of cold. 

He searched frantically with his hand, finding something solid and yanking with all his strength. 

He had to put both arms in, grabbing hold of whatever he could, using his body weight as leverage to extract Steve from the cold. 

He was limp when Billy finally got him out, but breathing heavily. 

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of the goop and blood covering him, and grinned at Billy. 

“Told’ya we would get you out.”

They shepherd him inside, most of the gang speechless and struck dumb from the events of the past while. 

Steve was given a change of almost clean clothes, and allowed to use some of their bottled water ration to clean the freezing black fluid from himself. 

He wasted little time, and was down in the Upside Down version of his living room with everyone else. 

“We can’t be long. El had to use a lot of strength to open it, but she’ll need her strength to close it, too.” 

Nobody knew what in the fuck Steve was going on about. 

Nobody but Hopper, that is. 

He still had disgusting pool sludge all over his front from when he pulled Steve into a tight hug when he had gotten his bearings back from his journey through the rift. 

“We can’t send people through that shit. It took all of Billy’s muscle to get you outta there.”

“So we drain it,” Steve insisted. “My parents drain it sometimes, I know how to do it.”

“I’ll keep watch. Make sure nothing tries to make itself known.”

Billy had barely wiped himself off. 

He didn’t care anymore about how freezing that shit was, he just wanted to surge forward, and get back the fuck home.

Hopper studied them both.

“Bring weapons. Yell if you need help.”

Billy nodded once, and turned on his heel, following Steve out the back door. 

Steve led him to a wooden shed on the side of the house. Billy had to clear the vines away from it before Steve could pry open the doors. 

It was full of pool equipment, and it didn’t take long for Steve to locate a large grubby pump. He knocked it against the wall of the shed until the filter attachment clattered off, leaving bigger openings for the sludge to, hopefully, run through. 

“Shit. This thing is electric. You got electricity?” 

It was the first time Steve had really gotten a good look at Steve since being in the Upside Down. 

He looked exactly as he had in the void place. His hair had a lot more disgusting black fluid in it, and he overall looked kinda shitty with the flecks of grime and blood on his face, but he looked bright. Alive. Strong. 

“How did you do it? Take me to that place. Figure out we were here.” 

Steve flushed. Billy had become overly aware that his face was completely covered under his bandana. Steve should cover his face. 

He drew another one of his back pocket, and, he didn’t know why, but he tied it around Steve’s face. 

Seriously, he could’ve just handed it to the guy and called it good there. But no. He had to set his ax on the ground, propped against his leg, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and tie the bandana like this was some intricate ritual. 

All while Steve just stared at him with those fuckin’ eyes of his. 

“It’s a long story.” Billy could barely hear Steve speak through the dirty cloth now covering his mouth and nose. “I’ll tell you when we’re back. When we’re safe.”

“I’m holding you to that, Harrington. Can’t have a guy poking around my dreams and shouting in my head without knowing his intentions.”

It was as close to flirting as Billy dared right now. 

Right before they tried to journey between worlds. 

“Good to know you heard me. I was trying to give you something of a pep talk.”

“Well, it worked. I would’ve just put my arms out and let those things rip me to shreds if I hadn’t have known.”

Billy didn’t know what Steve’s face was doing behind the cloth, but his eyes dropped, and Billy imagined that little cinch of his mouth that he had noticed Steve doing so much in that void place.

-

Billy meant it as a joke. 

He really did. 

And the Billy that was torn to bits in the mall wasn’t this Billy. Wasn’t the real Billy that was made out of real Billy materials and real Billy personality. 

But it still made Steve feel queasy, thinking about his arms spread wide, black goop pouring out of his mouth and nose as the Mind Flayer decimated him. 

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Billy. Just, not now.” 

And Steve turned off, hauling the pump back to the pool and taking calming breaths. 

The pump sank without much effort, like there was some kind of gravitational pull at the bottom of the pool. 

Steve had connected the thickest hose he could find, adn sent Billy off with the extension cord to find an outlet that didn’t spark and threaten fire. 

Before no time, the pump was humming, and pushing black slime through the hose and onto the dead grass. 

They didn’t need to get it all out, just as much as they could shove everyone through. 

Steve closed his eyes, trying to reach El like he had Billy. 

We had a hold up. Shouldn’t be long. 

He could feel her on the other side. 

She promised she would stay close enough to the rift that Steve could get in touch with her. 

He could feel something slither down his spine, a wordless confirmation from her. 

The liquid in the pool was slowly edging down, leaving a stain on the once-white walls of the pool. 

“Gather everyone up. Tell ‘em to meet out here. Tell ‘em to leave it all behind.”

Billy was still staring at the edge of the forest when he commanded Steve. 

It was odd, being in his house that’s not his house. 

Everything was so. Wrong. 

From the way the house seemed to be crumbling down, reduced to its studs in some areas, to the way it was still clearly his house. Paintings his father had bought. Elegant furniture his mother selected. 

It was all there. Just under a thick layer of dirt and nightmares. 

He thought idly about his bedroom, wondering if it would look like it did on his end. A little messy, the sheets typically rumpled and unmade. 

He resisted the urge to wander upstairs, reminding himself he was on a mission. 

“It’s time. Don’t bring anything. It’ll probably be ruined along the way.”

Everyone looked grave. Steve tried to smile at them, tried to push through some calmness to them all. He had forgotten Billy’s bandana was tied around his face. He sent one last wave of quiet confidence around the room, and led the group through the kitchen. 

They had barely rounded the corner of the kitchen island when they heard a strangled yell from outside. 

Steve put his head down, and sprinted through the shattered glass doors, skidding to a halt in the threshold. 

Billy was staggering backward, his ax forgotten on the ground and his left hand was clinging wildly to his right shoulder. 

His jacket was in tatters, thick blood dripping bright crimson down his arm, standing out like neon against the dark, dirty ground. 

Steve didn’t feel himself moving forward. He didn’t feel his hands raising in front of him. 

He just felt anger. The same anger from before that had ripped through him like a raging forest fire and straight into El. 

The thing shrieked. 

It backed away from Billy, twisting and writhing as its horrible screams filled the air, making the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. 

Fierce fury was exploding out of him, and he grit his teeth against the pounding in his head. 

“You don’t get to hurt him,” Steve barely barked out. 

All went still, and the demogorgon snapped into pieces. 

Steve felt like he could pass out where he stood. 

He had never felt so wrung dry. 

His vision was waning at the edges, and he felt an arm around his waist, coaxing him toward the red light now barely shining through a thin layer of slime in the pool. 

“Hold your breath, Pretty Boy.”

-

Steve was limp against him, and Billy was doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder as he held Steve close to his side. He had fumbled off both of their face coverings, moving clumsily through the pain of his injury. 

He took one last breath, and jumped into the rip between worlds. 

He plunged into the water, the crystal blue of a chlorinated pool. 

It was the best feeling in the world. 

Being covered and surrounded by clean. The heated water doing more to soothe Billy’s frayed nerves than anything in his life. 

He kicked hard, swimming one-armed to the surface, Harrington a dead weight in his injured arm. 

His head broke the water, and he took in deep lungfuls of clean, crisp air. 

Someone was tugging at Steve, and Billy, for the first time in his fucking life, was glad to see those kids Max was constantly hanging around. 

A woman Billy didn’t know was fawning over Steve, feeling for a pulse, and looking relieved when she felt his hot breath against her palm. 

“There’s more coming,” Billy coughed. 

He barely managed to get the words out, dripping muck and grime on the cement by the pool, when it felt as though he was hit from the side by a speeding train. 

He buried his nose in bright orange hair, hugging Max back as tightly as he could manage. 

He was exhausted, and feeling her there, alive and okay, was all that was keeping him standing. 

“I thought, I mean, we all thought you were dead. We saw it. That thing killed you .” Billy realized, with a whole lotta horror, that she was crying. Sobbing outright into his dirty chest. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” How could they have seen when that monster just came at him? 

“Oh, you’re bleeding.”

And if she only just realized he was hurt?

Max frog-marched Billy inside, to a very pale-looking Nancy Wheeler, sitting ready with a first aid kit. 

Billy had to peel his clothes off his body, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin. 

Nobody was speaking, and more of the people locked in the other place came traipsing into the room, fluffy towels wrapped around their shoulders. 

Hopper was the last to come in, holding the woman tight to his side underneath the striped pool towel. 

“Steve and El are closing it back up.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room.

Nancy patched up Billy’s shoulder, Max still stuck to his side like glue, the little boy from camp pasted to his other side. 

He had no idea how much time had past when Steve finally came traipsing into the room with Max’s little friend, both of them sporting matching bloody noses. 

Steve looked like shit. 

His face was covered in blood, old and new, and he still had some of the gross not-liquid in his hair from the Upside Down. 

But Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see someone in his life. 

“I’m sure everyone has questions,” said the woman tucked against Hop’s side. El, Billy assumes, had taken her place on Hop’s other side, wrapping the towel around her shoulders as well. 

The woman launched into a story that made Billy feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears. 

A monster. One they had all met before. Playing body snatcher in their sleepy little town. 

Apparently, one had been wearing a Billy meat-suit and wreaking havoc around town, which made Billy wanna throw up until he died. 

Which, not-Billy, had died. Fuckin’ brutally. And in front of everyone. Which sure as shit explained why Max wouldn’t let go of his sweaty hand. 

The story made Billy queasy, and he took to studying everyone in the room instead. 

All the kids were there, even the one that had been following Steve around like a little shadow, but they were all glaring in the very much opposite direction of Steve. 

Steve himself was pressed almost against the wall, looking like he’d collapse if the wall weren’t supporting him. 

“What’s up with the cold shoulder?” Billy muttered to Max.

“They’re mad at Steve right now. He’s been lying to us all.”

It was all he got out of her before everyone started moving around. 

The woman, Joyce Byers, he’s learned, had finished her story, and the group from the Upside Down had begun clamoring for rides home, or maybe something to eat. 

Billy just saw Steve manage to slip away before he followed him. 

It took some doing, shaking off the little one, who still wasn’t speaking, and looked ready to burst into tears when Billy told him to stay behind in the living room. 

But Janet Holloway took the kid’s other hand and gently led him back into the living room. 

Billy nodded at her, and sped up the stairs. 

It was weird, being in Harrington’s actual room. 

It was messy, and looked like Steve spent most of his time here tossing clothes on the ground or twisting up in his bed covers like a tornado. 

But it was oddly comforting. 

Being in Steve’s real room, and not some perverse dirty copy. 

Steve was standing, facing the bed, peeling his borrowed jacket from his shoulders and leaving it there on the floor.

“I never said thank you.”

Steve startled at Billy’s voice.

“Yeah. No problem.” Steve’s tone was light and airy, but Billy heard him sniff.

“Max said the little shitbirds are mad at you. Something about you lying.” 

Steve turned around, giving Bily a watery smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

So Steve told him. 

About the lab. 

About the experiments. 

About the torture. 

He explained that he had rules. Never making anyone feel something they already didn’t. Never altering someone’s opinion of, or feelings towards him. 

Billy grit his teeth as he imagined Wheeler giving Steve a hard time about that.

Steve was silent for a moment, not looking at Billy.

“It’s okay if you hate me. I mean, everyone does now.”

“You'd be able to feel if I hated you. You and those powers of yours just saved my life, Pretty Boy. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling the farthest thing from hatred just about now.”

It was as close to a confession as Billy would let himself get. 

But if Steve knows what he’s feeling at any given moment, then that means that he knows, and he didn’t-

“Quit it. Insecurity isn’t a good look on you.”

Steve sounded tired, and he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms out. 

At first, it didn’t sit quite right with Billy. 

He had barely even begun to identify what he was feeling when Steve swooped in and just point blank told him what the emotion was. 

Billy spent nearly all of his time being a big fuckin’ facade. 

He tried his very best to hide any emotional tell from anyone around him. 

He prided himself on being a chameleon. That nobody would ever truly know how he felt in any given situation. 

And here’s pretty boy Steve Harrington. Who is feeling just as, if not more, strongly as Billy is. 

But, it takes out all the parts of emotions that Billy hates dealing with. 

Showing them. Talking about them. 

He’d never once had to grapple with the words to explain how he feels to Steve. 

Steve would just. 

He’d know. 

And god, that’s kind of a nice idea. 

Billy sat down gently on the bed. 

“Alright.”

Steve’s head popped up to stare incredulously at Billy. 

Billy just grinned at him. 

[yamalegacy]

N/SFW ALPHABET to start things off on this blog, here’s a quick little kinky headcanon post for my favorite yama trinity; mt. lady, midnight and mirko, with the letters used to spell their hero names! 

here’s the link to the alphabet prompt (inspired by several that i’ve found here and there) if you want to send in a request for any letter and character i write for (list here if you need it) go for it!

⚠️ MDNI not so casual reminder for minors to not interact with this post ⚠️

MT. LADY ( takeyama yū )

M — MOTIVATION ( what turns them on? )

extremely sensitive and painfully easy to turn on. you barely have to try to turn her on most of the time, really. run your fingers on her inner thighs, grab her by the waist, whisper in her ear about what you want to do to her and she’ll be ready to go. yū will complain a lot if you do it in public, but that’s only because it gets her turned on in record time! hearing your voice, your praises, spurs her on better than anything else.

T — TALK ( what is their dirty talk like? )

yū isn’t necessarily the best with words; she’s all for kisses and touches. but if you’re touching her the right way, she’ll tell you how good you are. she won’t hesitate to tell you that she’s all yours and that she’s wet just for you.

L — LOCATION ( what is their favorite place to have sex? )

being the pillow princess that she is, yū will always favor a comfortable bed over anything else, but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t enjoy sex in other places. the two of you have become well acquainted with the couch at her agency (which has led to some awkward situations when you realized too late that you weren’t actually alone in the building).

A — AFTERCARE ( what are they like after sex? )

she is a bottom through and through and a pillow princess, so get ready to have to take care of her because she gets even lazier than usual after a good fuck. she can get whiny and demanding, asking for a bath or tea or both, but you’ll always be rewarded with cuddles and kisses. if she doesn’t fall asleep, that is.

D — DREAMS ( do they have sex dreams? what kind? how do they react? )

fairly regular kinky dreamland visitor. yū hates her sex dreams though. she always wakes up just when things are getting good, so she wakes up wet, needy and desperate every time. if you aren’t sleeping together that night, she’ll send you messages to complain, or even call you, hoping for a quickie over the phone. if you’re in her bed, she won’t care what time it is, she’ll wake you up and demand that you make her come. if you ignore her and go back to sleep, be ready to deal with a grumpy pro hero all day long (poor kamui woods has heard her complain about it way too many times and wishes he could forget everything she’s told him, especially that one time she dreamed about a threesome with you and him).

Y — YEARNING ( how desperate do they tend to be? )

mt. lady is queen of yearning. she’s also queen of pretending that she doesn’t miss you all the time. if work takes over her life for a few days and she can’t see you for a while, you can expect her to just be glued to you the second she sees you again. she’ll be extra needy and probably want to ride your thigh. she wouldn’t be able to let you go. and yet she’ll try (and fail) to pretend like she didn’t miss you and wasn’t desperate to feel you again.

MIDNIGHT ( kayama nemuri )

M — MOTIVATION ( what turns them on? )

you. your existence is her biggest turn on (especially if you’re quite a few years younger than her). there’s nothing nemuri wants to see more than your face when she makes you come, nothing she loves to hear more than your moans and sobs as she overstimulates you. watching you squirm and struggle when she’s touching you in public? a whole delicious meal for her. but the secret to making her dripping wet is getting on your knees and begging, begging her to touch you, to fuck you.

I — INTIMACY ( how caring are they during/after sex? )

despite being the r-rated hero and loving rough sex, nemuri can be surprisingly gentle and soft with you, even in bed. she loves you and she never hesitates to tell you, even with two fingers knuckle deep inside of you. she will look at you in the eyes and smile and whisper reassuringly, hold your hand and intertwine your fingers, kiss you, kiss your tears away.

D — DREAMS ( do they have sex dreams? what kind? how do they react? )

forever disappointed that she doesn’t have that many sex dreams is what she is. she isn’t all that bothered though, she definitely compensates with daydreaming about fucking you. she’d much rather have the real deal anyway. when she does have a good sex dream though? she will tell you everything in details to fluster and tease you.

N — NOPE ( any turn offs or hard limits? )

if you catch her in a good mood, after having struck her youth-loving self the right way, nemuri might indulge you and let you top, but never ever except to be able to tie her down or blindfold her. don’t even think about bringing it up. don’t expect her to submit to you, no matter the position, she needs to always be in control and she will be in control.

G — GRAB ( where do they like to have their hands on you the most? )

everywhere, anywhere. she grabs your hands or your waist when she doesn’t want to be rough with you. when things are heating up though? her grip on your hips or your ass will be harsh enough to leave red marks on your skin. if you’ve been particularly bratty, she thinks her fingers belong around your throat.

H — HOT & BOTHERED ( what are they like when turned on? )

unlike when she gets excited seeing good sportsmanship among her students, a turned on nemuri can keep the perfect poker face on. sometimes it’s frustrating how good she is at concealing her emotions and reactions. she favors your reactions and your desires over her own. and well, maybe she loves to see you squirm under her hard stare, maybe it turns her on even more. the most you’ll get out of her most of the time is small possessive gestures. if she’s leaving hickeys, or any sort of bruise on your skin, you know you’ve succeeded.

T — TALK ( what is their dirty talk like? )

you will have your pants and underwear charmed right off. if there’s someone who knows exactly what to say, it’s nemuri. she knows when to praise and tell you that you’re being good, and she also knows when to tell you that you’re being the perfect little slut for her. honestly, she’s probably going to try to make you come just from dirty talking and describing everything she would do to you to make you come apart for her. nemuri has a filthy mind and an even filthier mouth. 

MIR(U)KO ( usagiyama rumi )

M — MOTIVATION ( what turns them on? )

lingerie. always and forever lingerie. she loves to see you looking all pretty and pampered for her, especially if she knows that you bought the lingerie for her. her favorite part might be the fact that she will get to wreck and just ruin you and your pretty little outfit. if you want to get her really riled up, kiss her neck as you ride one of those glorious muscular thighs of hers, she’ll forget how to think. rumi will forever refuse to acknowledge that if you touch her ears just right, you can make her a whimpering mess in no time; she’ll just pretend it’s not a thing.

I — INTIMACY ( how caring are they during/after sex? )

rumi is far from being the most gentle of lovers, but it’s not like you didn’t know what you were getting into with that one. she tends not to have the patience for the sweet softness of intimacy and prefers to get right to it. but she also has such a soft spot for you, especially when you become a sobbing, begging mess from overstimulation; that’s when she likes to hold you, cradle you in her arms and kiss your forehead. she is a pro at doing a 180° post sex though, and is the softest of bunnies once she’s had her share of orgasms.

R — ROMANCE ( do they like romantic gestures to set the mood? )

that's a no from rumi. not because she doesn't like the thought of romancing the crap out of you (she loves the thought), but she just doesn't know how. she also can't stand scented candles, her nose is too sensitive. and it's probably preferable not to leave petals near a bunny, you know... you tried once, but never again.

U — UNFAIR ( how much do they tease? )

little miss bunny hero doesn't know the meaning of fairness when it comes to your sex life. she has absolutely no mercy. if you can't keep quiet or if you blush easily, she won't hesitate to tease you in public until all you can do is glare at her or plead with your eyes. and no matter how impatient she can get, if she has the time, she will edge you forever. but you will always be rewarded with rumi.

K — KINK ( favorites? which ones do they keep secret? )

dominance, punishments and orgasm denial/edging. you're in for a wild ride with rumi because she will ruin you and you will love it. definitely some exhibitionist tendencies; she's eaten you out while you were on the phone more than once, she can't resist it, she just has to see how long you'll manage to be good for her and stay quiet. she is very open about what she likes and wants in general, but there's a couple exceptions, one of them being anal (mostly giving). it's something that she really wants to try with you, but isn't sure she should bring up. because, listen, bunny tail plug. that's it. rumi wants to see it so bad but she feels dumb.

O — ORAL ( do they like giving or receiving? a preference? )

while rumi enjoys both, it’s one of the few things where she’ll tend to prefer receiving, but that’s mostly because she gets to see your pretty face squished between her thighs, and if that’s not one of the most glorious sights ever, she doesn’t know what it is. this bunny will ride your face into oblivion. she still apologizes for that time she broke your nose and had to take you to the er

[embyrinitalics]

An Inconvenience

Read the previous thread here, or jump down the rabbit hole 🕳🐇

In the morning there are hatch patterns all over her legs from the hammock and marks on her cheek from his armor, half her braids have fallen out, and she feels stiff with hardened warpaint. But there’s a soothing breeze, and his arm around her waist is warm, and she might’ve called waking up there pleasant if the sun wasn’t burning a hole in her head—

The sun.

She sits bolt upright with a gasp, trying to untangle their legs from where they’ve entwined overnight. The give of the hammock hampers any real progress, and the harder she thrashes the worse it gets, until her desperate struggle finally culminates in the entire net rolling. She has just enough time to yelp before they’re both deposited in a heap on the ground.

She plants a hand on his chest—it’s shaking with laughter—and he grins lazily up at her as she glares down.

“I said sunrise!” She points desperately at the giant orb glowing in the sky. “Sun!” And when he seems to grasp that, she makes a too-large sweeping gesture up from the horizon. “Rise!”

He reaches up and runs the edge of his thumb against her lip, a soft smirk on his mouth, and says, “Sunrise.”

She growls at him, finally wrenching herself free, and gets up to—well, she can’t get down from the colonnade on her own, so she paces and drops her head in her hands. It’s only then that he seems to notice she’s in real distress, his smirk twisting out of place as he gets to his feet.

“This is awful. Father has to have realized I’m gone by now. He’s probably worried sick, and has the whole team out scouring the jungle for me—”

He tries to placate her, resting a soothing hand on her shoulder, but she bats him away.

“I need to go home, Link! Right now!”

His brow furrows.

“Home?” she demands, but of course that doesn’t help. She digs her fingers into her scalp and they get caught in half a braid. She pats the columns emphatically, gestures at the colonnade, at the great dragon head below, and says, “Link’s home.”

His eyes follow her hands, absorbing everything, and when she waits, he repeats, still frowning, “Link home.”

She points furiously out to the jungle in the direction she hopes the campsite lies. “Zelda’s home.”

His eyes change, but she can’t read them. She holds them another second or so before she throws her hands up and goes back to pacing. But then he takes her hand—warmly, firmly—and tugs her toward their route down from the cliffs, making a beckoning gesture.

“Home,” he says, and it sounds like a promise, and her whole body sags and her lip trembles.

“Thank you,” she whispers, even though it means nothing to him.

He gets her down easily, the way he skips from one place to the next and then catches her as she hops after him not unlike their dance through the treetops the night before. The tribe is already awake, half their number dispersed in the jungle and the rest busying themselves around the lake: sharpening tools, watching children, mending armor, preparing food.

Link stops briefly in the dragon’s maw to get a few supplies. Just beyond the gathering she spies a spring, and a statue of a beautiful woman cast in shimmering light. It’s too ethereal somehow, too sacred, and she has to look away. He has a few exchanges with the others beneath the overhang of stone teeth—his words are clipped, theirs are amused—and as he draws her towards the mouth of the river she hears in a sing-song voice, “Shehsa tahilam yulaiti kihna, Zelda!”

Her ears turn unaccountably red.

He leads her up the river, and where she’s certain they came from the left, he turns right. She beats down the concern that tries to well up. Link knows where he’s going, and she trusts him. Besides, she has other things on her mind.

So it’s very disconcerting when, a few steps later, they’re walking into a pen and she comes face to face with a water buffalo.

“Oh,” she says, watching as he slips leather bands up the animal’s massive horns and flips the affixed reins up over its head. “Oh dear. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He climbs aboard. All she can do is pout at its bulging shoulder. She’s already a jumble of nerves—thinking of her father, thinking of the chaos that must have ensued back at camp, thinking about how she’s going to have to explain all this—and now her only way back is atop a wild animal that she expects to gore her at any moment. It turns a lazy eye on her, as though it heard. Maybe it will, it seems to say, maybe it won’t.

She allows herself a tiny, defeated huff as she takes his hand and clambers up after him.

He settles her in front of him on its withers, and with a soothing voice and gentle pat, tells it to walk on. Its steps are massive and it sways like the hammock, and she has to dig her fingers into its back to steady herself. But Link’s arms are there, guiding the buffalo with a lax rein, and within a few minutes she’s used to the pendulous swing of the gait and back to worrying about how much trouble she’s going to be in back at camp.

She wrings her hands. He offers her a banana out of his pack. She turns it down. The buffalo snorts, and she wrings her hands some more.

He starts humming. And at first it’s irritating, rubbing beneath the torrent of birdsong like something that doesn’t belong. It’s unfair that he can be so unconcerned at a time like this. But then the hum turns into a murmur, turns into lyrics thrumming like another one of his stories. He coils the reins in one hand and slides the other over one of hers, slipping their fingers together, stroking soothing lines across her thumb with his so her hands can’t worry at each other anymore. Soothing her, the only way he knows how.

It’s... surprising, how well it’s working.

“That’s nice,” she tells him quietly, peering timidly over her shoulder. He gives her a half-smile and keeps on. “I just—well. I’m sure I caused a lot of worry, and I feel guilty about that. And there’s bound to be consequences once everything settles down. And father already doesn’t like you. I’m sure this isn’t going to help.”

He keeps singing. She hasn’t had someone sing to soothe her since she was a little girl—since her mother. She’d forgotten how nice it could be. She’s about to give into it, about to lean into him and close her eyes and let his voice smooth away her anxieties.

But then she remembers the paint all over her legs and her bare middle, and the ludicrous outfit she’s wearing which will scandalize absolutely everyone if she’s spotted, and it all comes flooding back.

Still. The song is nice.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can you do part 2 of chandelier?

Chandelier

This is part to to this imagine, find it here

Pairing | dark!Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary | the suburban life that you have been locked in soon takes a turn whence another being, with radiating power is revealed to be causing such destruction. Perhaps Wanda isn’t the bad guy, or at least, not the worst villain that has you under their thumb. Witches, and their possessiveness!

Warnings | mentions of death, violence, witches, magic, imprisonment, angst, spoilers for Wandavision. I fixed the Ralph Bohner plot because I could

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Time had surpassed, and continuing to live under the restrictions of Wanda hadn’t been so bad. She was your wife, the Maximoff that owned your heart, a red beam of scarlet that floated around in the depths of your head. Her influence left a pressure inside of you, a mark and a reminder to her that you belonged to her.

One thing that you knew for certain, was that you needed to escape these red restrictions, and break free of this place that you were forced to call home. It was tough to slip from the penetrating gaze of the possessive redhead, but to your luck, your nosey neighbour had decided, on this fine evening, to walking into the kitchen, and stir up some gossip with your partner.

Agnes, as she went by. It always seemed like she wanted to be away from that husband Ralph of hers, but you couldn’t blame her, you wanted nothing more than to escape the possessiveness of your wife. She was no longer the same woman that you had met, she was crafted by loss, that tormented her into being a captive. Using the excuse of protecting you to her advantage, claiming that you would not appreciate what lay on the outside of Westview.

Party girls don't get hurt

Can't feel anything, when will I learn?

I push it down, push it down

I'm the one "for a good time call"

But you couldn’t help but feel completed as you reached the borders of the town. It was surreal, you felt ecstatic to leave this little prison, that was in deep disguise to convince all residents that their home was real, and not all an illusion painted by a certain redhead. She saw you as a new canvas, which she kept overlapping with white paint to make blank for another piece of mindful artwork.

Turning once more, to ensure that the woman of your nightmares hadn’t decided to appear behind you, within a second, you lurched forward, pushing your body through her borders, feeling each atom in your atom tug apart and put itself back together, as you fought with just your own body to break through the access and exit point of her false reality.

That’s all this was, an illusion, masked in amounts of power that could possibly kill you. But death by attempted escape was better than remaining here, in this vast plain, that was all meant to occupy the mind, fooling it into thinking that this was a normal life. Instead, you knew how absurd it was, there were tweaks every now and then, until you were transferred into a different time.

Right now, you were in the 2000s, but you needed to get back to 2023, the real time line, the universe outside of these red orbits that stood strong, and pained your skin, pushing a power that you did not know that you could feel beneath your flesh, making your body burn from your withdrawal from its sharp contents.

Phone's blowin' up, ringin' my doorbell

I feel the love, feel the love

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

One. Two. Three. A yell bellowed from your throat as you fell out to the other side, collapsing on the ground, as your fingertips dug into the surface below. For a moment you frowned, before you glanced behind you, seeing the grand gesture of magic in its place, and you out of your own. You picked dirt up with your hands, it felt real, not like molecules that had been wedged together to create the appearance of such a natural substance.

The sound of footsteps had you rolling over, preparing to attack whomever had decided to disturb your peace, crouching on your knees as you glared up. It was a woman, one that you vaguely remembered, before your ever so loving wife had informed you that she had moved away, something about her mother not feeling well. All though, that may have been an illusion too, for all you were aware.

Nobody escaped Westview, until you. There was no route out, you were sure the chase wasn’t over, Wanda would come after you, numbing your mind with her tugging hands, that swirled with her red essence. The woman emitted grave power, and you far well knew that she would use it for when the time came. She would make you her prisoner once more, a dull and empty shell that would be ordered to do nothing more than return her affections with a plastered smile.

“Geraldine?” You asked nervously, realising that the woman appeared far different than the version of her within the Hex. She had portrayed nothing more than a fine friend to the deluded woman, supporting her magic show and coming over for tea in the morning, until she mentioned... Sokovia. Sokovia, her home, that had fallen against the battle with Ultron! You remembered!

Throw 'em back 'til I lose count

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier

From the chandelier

I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist

Like it doesn't exist

“Geraldine doesn’t exist.” She smiled softly, holding out a hand so that she could assist you to your feet. With sly eyes, you took it, untrusting of anyone at the moment. “My name is Monica, I have the intent of stopping your wife, she’s dangerous. She’s expanding these borders, and soon, I have no doubt that she will eat up the whole world, turning it into her playground.”

Playgrounds. They had been another thing that you noticed specked around the town, though there never seemed to be any children to play in them. That gave you some relief, unless they were locked up, stowed away to be kept of the suburban life. Wanda didn’t want children anyway, she wanted you, her baby, her fine darling, her pet. You were nothing more than a decoration within her false realm, a means to keep a smile stretched upon her sinister face, and a stopper to her darting red eyes.

And thus you stood on your own feet, no scarlet shadow behind you, whispering thoughts that were not your own in through your ear. Gulping, you looked Monica up and down, nervously seeing if she were to fade into the air, as many things did when the times changed, as they converted into more modern alternatives. A part of you had wished that you would grow with the changes, become stronger, become a free woman.

“I am not her wife.” You admitted aloud, feeling a heavy weight roll off your chest. There, you had said it, and for the first time, you hoped that the redhead heard you, you could imagine her scowl right now. That, that would be something that was sure as hell real, and not a part of her sketch script, her sitcoms were curtains.

They could be opened or closed, but often of a night, were shut to keep the silhouettes of monsters out. She was the monster, hiding from herself and the reality that she had came from. Though, the woman could not accept that she was the villain here. The creator of the dialysis that was affecting the lives of many, but for what purpose.

I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night

Feel my tears as they dry

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier

From the chandelier

But I'm holding on for dear life

“We have to stop her.” Monica spoke, getting out of the vehicle, you following behind her, as she moved closer to the collateral red veil that reached high up into the sky. Sounds from Jimmy insisted that she remain, and that another way in could be found, but all of you knew that was a long shot. And there was no time to wait around, not as purple grates were seen through the crimson walls of her boundaries, bursting like fireworks against her protection system.

And thus, you, gulping down the sensations of fear prickling at your fingers, followed after Monica, whom walked through the moulded fire, stepping into the plain that digressed your body, pulling it as though it were trying to reform your genes, affecting your DNA. As you succumbed to the sensations, you felt a burst in your chest, an ignition of something greater deep inside you.

But unlike Wanda, you were not going to use it for your own sinful convenience, you were going to stop her. You gasped as you fell out the other side, your limbs feeling like they were aflame, askew with treacherous fire. Turning to Monica, you saw that her eyes had transformed into an ambient blue, piercing your soul.

Won't look down, won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Help me, I'm holding on for dear life

Won't look down, won't open my eyes

“Your skin.” She spiked, raising her hand to her own cheek as she looked upon you. It was separated into sections, adjoined by the bone, as neon orange kept it attached, like cracks that had yet to be partitioned. There was no time for idly finding a mirror to squalor through at your own appearance though, no. You had returned to this hell for one reason only, and that was put an end to all this consuming madness.

And so, the pair of you walked through the town, not having to go far until you saw the ongoing battle. Agnes, as you had known her, was in the sky, along with you alleged wife, purple robes floating from her body, her hair crazed and wild, much like her eyes. She was no friendly neighbour, she was a reaper coming out to play, throwing lilac bursts of power towards Wanda, whom returned the favour with her own red energy.

“How do we get to them?” Rambeau asked, frowning as she watched their exchange with worried irises. To answer her question, your body aligned itself to rise, transcending towards the two warriors, your eyes hot and fiery as they flared remarkably at the sight of the bewitched competition.

At your presence, Agnes smirked, and Wanda’s face paled, soaking in the sight of your skin glowing with your own source of power. “If it isn’t your wife, just on time to join us for the main course.” Your nose curled at the sound of her distorted voice, as your head raised itself, glaring upon the scene. “There’s something different about you, I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Keep my glass full until morning light

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight, on for tonight

Sun is up, I'm a mess

Gotta get out now, gotta run from this

Here comes the shame, here comes the shame

To emphasise her point, she emitted a pulse of her magic towards you, it hitting deep in the pit of your chest. Though, it didn’t explode, or send you hurtling back, instead it grew brawlingly in your chest, brewing like a potion, and expanding every human structure that you could feel kept your skeleton upright.

As your head fall, and you remained in your place, Wanda frowned, head tilting as a crown appeared upon her forehead. She could not understand how you had changed so clearly. You were definitely not her wife, you were an image of her enemy, floating alongside her, standing for your cause. That was to end her, and this place she had formatted to become her home; your home.

When she had learnt of your betrayal, escaping whilst she was distracting by this opposer of hers, she had been filled with various emotions. Angry was one definition of how she had felt, but another had been determined. She was determined to get you back, and wash away all thoughts of ever leaving her again. But as she looked upon you, for some reason, she knew that her tricks wouldn’t work.

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink

Throw 'em back 'til I lose count

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier

“What are you?” She asked in that distressed accent of hers. What were you? It was unknown, or at least to your own knowledge, you were a vision, a bird set free, no longer trapped behind the bars of a cage. Wanda tried to thrust your to the side with her elegant will, but instead of obeying her technical whim, you tilted your head.

It came as a shock to you as well, having expected to be thrown around by her wishes, but instead, you remained, only absorbing her tainted force, your hair blowing from the sweeping of the stormy wind as you poised the two witches with your amber gaze, keeping your pupils locked on them, as a hurricane rounded through the air, grabbing every form of their power.

The walls of the Hex slowly faded, swirling in the air before coming on command towards you, roping around your limbs before sinking into your flesh, leaving Agatha with a studying from onto her trialed face. She was watching, rather than fighting with you, picking out the little details like she had done with Wanda.

From the chandelier

I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist

Like it doesn't exist

I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night

Feel my tears as they dry

She was the scarlet witch, the most powerful sorceress of all, but you indeed were something else. Monica squinted from below, as she saw a streak of blue oncoming towards her, his willpower transcending through her, as he crumbled mistakenly to the ground.

He was a fake, or was he. As he tripped, Monica caught sight of the flaring purple beads around his neck, and thus, she knelt upon his chest, as she looked at them. This Pietro was being controlled, and she assumed it was through the ancient jewellery, and so, she pulled it from around his neck, scattering the beads upon the street.

As the man looked up, he was astounded. There was a fiery bird igniting in the sky, its wingspan spreading far, as it reigned terror upon all. He was amazed to see the sight once more... she was supposed to be dead. She had sacrificed herself, turned into particles within the universe. But it seemed as though the winged creature, pardoned by great force lived on.

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier

From the chandelier

But I'm holding on for dear life

Won't look down, won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Help me, I'm holding on for dear life

“Jean?” He whispered to himself, with a frown, his hand covering his mouth as he thought of his old friend that had facaded into meandering smithereens. Monica sighed at the man, walking closer, as she crossed her arms, looking down upon where he had crashed, and was laying upon the ground.

“Ralph Bohner?” She asked, watching as the stranger frowned at the title that she assumed of hun. With speed, he assisted himself up, brushing his hands on his legs, as he kept blinking up at the apocalyptic sky.

“No, I feel sorry for a dude with that name.” He lightly chuckled, finding the boner joke rather hilarious. “Peter Maximoff is the name, my fine lady.” She shook her head at his efforts but... Maximoff? What about Pietro?

Won't look down, won't open my eyes

Keep my glass full until morning light

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight, on for tonight

“She’s the dark Phoenix.” Agatha gulped, her face contorting into one of fear and worry as she looked on at the way your arms spread like an eagle, igniting with their flame like aura. She had heard ancient stories, but they were not from this time. And here you were, facing off against her and the scarlet witch.

They had no chance against you, but Wanda did not know that, and as she readied to face off with you, she found herself being pushed to the ground, by nothing more than your stern gaze. Agatha too was pulled in by your sway, as you forced both to descend, and be grounded.

With a curve of your neck, they found themselves trapped against telephone lines, lines of their own magic pulling at them like strands. They were tied up, like the witches of old, powerless to those that stalked them.

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Oh, I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight, on for tonight

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

All of a sudden, Wanda felt overcome with regret, as she was put in this position. She tried to escape, but Agnes as she had called herself priorly shook her head at the silly girl, understanding that this was the end.

“We are no match for her Wanda. She is not a witch, she is being far more powerful. Fall to her mercy, or you will receive the brunt of it.” Westview had fallen, and thus, Wanda realised that by taking you, you had taken everything right back from her, reciprocating the notion that she had described to be love.

She held on, wanting the night to be over, as she saw Monica, the woman that had tried to help her, behind you. And the man that had posed as her biological brother. There was no hope left for her, no saving her. In the end, she had became the villain. Her and Agatha were not so different after all.

'Cause I'm just holding on for tonight

Oh, I'm just holding on for tonight

On for tonight, on for tonight

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

if anyone has seen maid-sama, Lumine and Childe sometimes reminded me of Misaki and Usui so i had to write it hehe :3 if you haven’t seen it, i highly suggest it, its a very cute anime and if you like chilumi, you’ll definitely like the main couple in it! its on netflix! :D

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

* * *

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1)

“Childe, for the last time, earrings are against the school uniform code,” Lumine said to him, eyes narrowing at the red jewelry dangling from his ear. He may have towered over her, but she was the student council president—she had to enforce the rules no matter what. 

Childe tilted his head, fingers grazing over his earring. “A tiny thing like this? Surely you can let me off the hook, Madame President?” 

“No exceptions. Remove it now or I will forcibly confiscate it from you.” 

He scoffed, turning away. “I’d like to see you try.”

Lumine clenched her jaw, watching his back retreat down the hallway. Oh, she could easily take it from him. But this wasn’t the place to use brute force. As much as he boiled her blood, she wouldn’t dare reveal her secret here. 

Childe, the school’s number one troublemaker: always getting into fights, never listening to authorities, doing whatever he pleased. And the worst part? He always got away with it. 

The girls of the school fawned over his good looks, the boys envied his strength, and the elders fell victim to his charisma. 

Not Lumine though. She refused to be influenced by him. Maybe that’s why he always seemed so annoyed by her. Good. 

She ripped out a page of her student council notebook, scribbling out Childe’s name and dress code violation, pocketing it to turn in later. 

She practically stomped her way into the student council room, earning a glance from the Vice President—her twin brother Aether. 

“Childe?” he asked, going back to typing on his laptop. 

Lumine slumped in her chair. “Yes,” she nearly growled. “How did you know?”

“Because he always puts you in the worst of moods,” her brother answered. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to put him in his place.”

“And get kicked out of school for murder? No thank you; I’m not ruining an absolutely clean record for the likes of someone like Childe.” She flipped through her notebook, seeing all her citations on said troublemaker. “Soon enough, that boy is going to get expelled, mark my words.”

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the student council reporter—a student named Bennett—dashed in, holding the side of his face.

“Madame President!” he announced. “There’s a fight breaking out in the hallway!”

Both Aether and Lumine stood. “What happened to your face, Bennett?” Aether asked. 

The reporter let out a sheepish laugh. “I, uh, tried to break up the fight but ended up getting punched in the face.”

“Okay, c’mon, let’s get you to the nurse,” Aether said, walking Bennett out the door. 

Lumine quickly walked out after them, hearing the commotion down the hallway. As she turned the corner, there was a crowd of students circled around the tussle. 

“Out of the way!” Lumine shouted. 

At the sound of her voice, many students scattered back to their classrooms, leaving only the perpetrators still fighting: a short boy with cropped blue hair and—Childe.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Break. It. Up! Or it’s suspension for the both of you!” 

The short boy gave Childe a harsh shove, adjusting his odd cap with tassels on the sides. “You don’t have to fight me every time you see me, you brute,” the boy hissed. 

Childe laughed. “C’mon, Scaramouche, don’t be like that,” the ginger said. “We were just having some fun, Madame President; no need to make a big fuss out of it.” 

Lumine glared at him. “Why are you always at the center of trouble?” 

Childe shrugged. “Life’s too boring.” 

Taking out her notebook, she scoffed. “Well, it’s about to get a whole lot more boring for you. Detention. After school. Both of you.” 

“It was just some play fighting between friends, Pres,” Childe insisted. “Don’t be so stuck-up.” 

“Not play fighting when one of my council members gets hit in the face,” she retorted angrily. 

“Can I at least be let off the hook?” Scaramouche interjected. “He was the one who attacked me.” 

The blonde sighed. “Fine. This was your first offense anyways.” 

“Today’s his first day after all,” Childe supplied. 

“It’s his first day and you welcomed him by attacking him?” Lumine asked, crossing her arms. 

He smiled. “What can I say? We know each other.” 

I want to punch that smile off his face. “Scaramouche, go back to class. Childe, you’re coming with me to in-school suspension.” 

Scaramouche muttered something under his breath and walked away, while Childe cheerfully waved goodbye to him. 

Lumine started walking down the other way, towards the ISS room, Childe’s footsteps falling in behind her. Most of the way was done in silence. Until—

“Say, Pres, why are you so stuck-up?” Childe asked. 

Lumine grit her teeth. “Have you ever thought maybe I’m not stuck-up, and maybe you’re just a troublemaker?” 

“Hey, at least I make your life a little more interesting, don’t I?”

“Not interesting. So much more unbearable.” 

“Maybe you should loosen up. Being like this won’t make you many friends.” 

“And fighting people will?” 

“Fighting is fun. You’re telling me you’ve never watched a fight and found it entertaining?”

Lumine stopped in her tracks. “Of course not. You only do it when something’s seriously on the line. Not for fun.” 

“Uh-uhm, excuse me,” a timid voice said. 

Lumine turned to find a girl, she looked young, probably a freshman, clutching a card. “Can I help you?” the president asked.

“A-actually,” the girl responded, “can I t-talk to Ch-Childe? A-Alone?” 

The blonde glanced at Childe, who shrugged back at her. Letting out a sigh, she said, “Yes, go ahead.” She was doing this for the girl. Not Childe. 

She walked ahead and turned the corner until she was out of sight and unable to hear. After a minute or so, the freshman girl ran past her, hysterically crying. Brows furrowed, she went back to Childe. 

“So, where are we going?” he asked nonchalantly. 

Asshole. “What the hell did you do to her?” Lumine asked. “Do I really need to write you up again?”  

“What? All I did was reject her confession.”

A glare at him. “Be nicer. Don’t make girls cry.” She continued walking. 

“Or maybe she should just be stronger.” 

“Don’t you dare insult a girl’s strength in front of me.” 

“I’m not insulting the strength of a woman. I’m just saying people in general could do better if only they were stronger.” His strides quickened, and soon he was in front of her. He flicked the earring dangling from his ear. “For instance, if you had the strength, you could easily rip this from my ear, and you could stop stacking up those useless dress code citations for me.” 

Lumine had to clench her teeth to stop herself from murdering him on the spot. “I’m your student council president. I don’t solve things through violence. Which is why you and I are different.” Lie, her gut hissed. 

She stopped, throwing open the door to her left, gesturing into the room. “You’ll spend the rest of the school day here.” She turned in, looking at the teacher. “Mr. Diluc, you have a student here for in-school suspension for the rest of the day.” 

Mr. Diluc glanced up from his book, expressionless. “Childe. Back so soon?” 

Childe sauntered in, taking a seat. “You know our Pres. Always working on cleaning up the school from scum like me.” 

“Good for her,” Diluc said. “Thank you, Lumine.”

Lumine nodded and closed the door behind her. Finally.

At least Childe wouldn’t be causing anymore trouble today. 

* * *

Lumine shivered as the chilling locker room hit her bare skin. Shedding her hoodie, she donned a simple black sports tank top and shorts. 

“Are they ever going to get heaters for these locker rooms?” she muttered. 

“It’s an underground fighting ring,” Aether said, “You think they can afford state-of-the-art locker rooms?” He tossed her a roll of hand wraps. 

She caught it, unraveling it, and started to wrap them around her knuckles. “You’re right. As long as they pay me, I shouldn’t be complaining.” 

Aether nodded, taking her gloves out from her gym bag. “Are you ever going to tell Mom how you get all this cash?”

“Never. She’d probably die of a heart attack.” 

“And your injuries?” 

“I try not to get any,” she said with a smirk. “If I do, then, hey, the restaurant business can be dangerous...and I can be clumsy.” 

And that was her big secret. 

In the night, Lumine was a top tier fighter in Teyvat’s underground fighting ring. She was known as “The Outlander.” 

After their father had walked out on them years ago, Lumine, Aether, and their mother were left with a huge amount of his debt to pay off. Their mother took on two jobs to support them, leaving her exhausted, sickly, and barely home. Lumine and Aether couldn’t find decent paying jobs at their age, so Lumine took matters into her own hands. 

Through her tenacity, she trained hard and started showing up to the underground fights, learning her way through the system, and eventually began fighting herself. Sure, it was illegal due to the violence and betting system, but it made good money—fast. Enough money to support their family, pay off the debt, and save some aside for her and Aether’s future.

Aether of course still worked as a cashier at a local grocery store (next to the restaurant Lumine claimed she worked at); Lumine would never let her dear brother participate in her line of work. He was only allowed to come along to cheer her on.   

She was also good at it. After some training, her instructors all praised her natural fighting instincts. In a matter of months, she had become one of the top fighters in her area. 

It was out of necessity. They needed the money. 

Of course, no one knew who she really was. She always fought with a mask on—she couldn’t let her identity be compromised. A high school student beating up all these grown adults? A chance she could be recognized and reported to authorities? No. Way. Plus, people liked the mysterious Outlander figure. Might as well milk it. 

The cheers above her swelled, and Lumine did her final stretches and prepped to go out on stage. 

“You ready to fight tonight?” Aether asked. 

Lumine slipped her mask on. “Always.” 

She made her way up the staircase, and the buzzing crowd grew louder and louder, until she entered the arena, and the cheers became deafening. 

The arena was probably around the size of her school gym, maybe smaller, but packed to the brim with cheering fans and a boxing cage in the middle. 

She made her way up to the cage, chants of “Outlander” swirling around her, and took her walk around the area, getting a feel for the night. Eventually, her mind blurred out the crowd, focusing on becoming in tune with her body. 

Tonight, her opponent was another member of the Hilichurl gang: a gang notorious for entering lots of members into these types of fights, even if they weren’t good, as a way to try and earn any kind of money for their gang. It was an easy win. Lumine barely got hit. (The Hilichurl on the other hand ended the night sobbing his heart out on stage. Lumine felt kind of bad. Kind of.)

Soon enough, she and Aether were on their way home with a fresh wad of cash in their bag, practically skipping their way past the dim street lights. As they made their way towards their bus home, Lumine rifled through her bag, realizing she had left one of her textbooks in the locker room from when she had been studying before the fight. 

She cursed. Now she had to go all the way back to the arena. “Aether, you need to get home—the next bus won’t be here for another hour.” 

“Lumine, I am not leaving you alone in this sketchy part of town.” 

“And you have to be there when Mom gets back, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.” Lumine was already turning around. “Tell her I had to stay behind at the restaurant to help clean up.” 

Her brother pursed his lips. 

“Aether. I’ll be fine. Did you seriously forget what I did to get that stack of cash?” she reassured. 

He sighed. “Fine, fine. You’re right.” He hugged his sister. “Still. Be careful, please.” 

She held up her fist which was still wrapped in the fighter’s tape. “Of course. See you back home.” 

With that, the twins went separate ways. 

Now maskless, Lumine went the back ways to the arena, entering through a side door, avoiding the still rowdy crowd of spectators gathered for the late night fights. She successfully grabbed her textbook, and walked back out the side door. Straight into somebody. 

Shit. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, keeping her head down, hoping they wouldn’t ask why some little high school girl was sneaking around the underground fighting arena. 

But then the person spoke. 

“Wow,” a familiar voice said. 

Lumine looked up, wide eyed. Shitshitshitshit—

“This is a surprise,” Childe said, “Madame President.”

* * *

[part 2]

[realcube]

yachi + degradation 😈

navi | masterlist | taglist 

thank you to anon for this request <3

summary: yachi catches you masturbating and this gives her something to prove - that she can make you feel better than you ever could on your own 

content warning:vagina-having! reader, dom!yachi, masturbation, mommy kink degradation, strap-on, overstimulation, orgasm denial, arguably ooc - aged up!

During the whole three years you and Yachi have been together, you’ve only had intercourse four times: once on Yachi’s birthday, on your birthday, valentine’s day and that one time you had both finished reading a rather erotic work of fiction. 

So since your sex life was less than active, you can only imagine how needy, desperate and wild your cunt must’ve felt after accidentally following a few too many links and ending up on the hub. 

Of course, there was only one way to soothe the intense ache between your legs and that was by rummaging through your bedside drawer, passed all the abandoned paperwork to grab the neglected, hot pink strap-on which was buried underneath and pounding it in your pussy with your own hand, using it more like a dildo.

You sat on Yachi’s shared queen-sized bed - under the impression she was coming at the usual hour of 6 o’clock - with a towel tucked underneath you and your head tossed back in bliss, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to absorb every little ounce of pleasure that the strap provided, which wasn’t nearly enough to fully satisfy you.

However, what you forgot to take into consideration was that today was a Friday, meaning Yachi got off work early, hence when she arrived at the apartment and entered her room, she was greeted by the glorious sight of you completely nude on the bed, legs spread to vigorously pound into yourself with the strap in one hand, using the other to massage your breast.

Yachi could have stood there, staring at you for ages and you would’ve even noticed but what did catch your attention was when she instinctively dropped her purse, the thud causing you to instantly snap your head over to look at her. All the colour draining from your face as you met her gaze. 

Her face had changed to adopt a new colour - red - as she stared wide-eyed at you sweaty, frail body that lay sprawled out across her bed, your soaking cunt left open and vulnerable to her touch. 

Something about seeing you in such a state was enough to evoke a certain feeling in yachi that she’ d never experienced before, at least not in regards to her sex life. Dominance.  

There was no exact way she could put her explanation into words but if she had to try: it was as though all her stress, anxiety and frustrations from work had been building up inside her and now that she had laid eyes on you sitting defenceless and submissive on her bed, she was ready to erupt.

Before you got the chance to even attempt to choke out an apology, Yachi stalked over to you, her oddly calm aura sending a shiver down your spine. Once she arrived by your side of the bed, she halted by your spread legs and casually slipped her blazer off while gesturing to take the strap from your trembling hands.

“May I?” Her voice didn’t exactly sound sinister, more neutral. However, that was enough to frighten you to your core as this was Yachi we’re talking about; you genuinely expected her to faint when she first saw you in this position. Yet she somehow made her way over to you and was now offering to hold the strap to do god-knows what with it, all while remaining composed.

Once you let go and she was now in full control of the dildo, her lips curled into a smile and before you got the opportunity to question it, she rammed the plastic back into your cunt with frightening speed, resulting in a moan escaping your lips which only fuelled Yachi further.

After a few more thrusts, your arms shakily made their way over to take the plastic from her possession - she was too powerful with it - but she yanked it away at the last second, “No, it’s fine. Let me take care of you; sit back, relax. You clearly must’ve thought this piece of plastic could pleasure you more than I could but we’ll see about that.” She hummed, her glare flickering between you and the hot pink dildo in her hands.

Due to her timid personality, it should come as no surprise that every time y’all got intimate, Yachi was always on the receiving end of the wrath of your strap so now that she was stepping up into dominance so suddenly, you didn’t dare to reply.

She was pleased at how quickly you succumbed to submission for her, rewarding you with a little kiss on the forehead before stepping aside to strip into nothing besides her undergarments. Then, she unhurriedly put on the strap around her hips, basking in the sweet little needy whimpers that fell from your lips as you tried your hardest not to touch yourself.

Not a second was wasted between her aligning the strap by your cunt and bucking her hips back and forth, absolutely mesmerised by the way your walls greedily enveloped the whole dildo until there was hardly any pink left in sight.

It wasn’t Yachi intention to give you a moment to accommodate to the straps’ large size, but that’s what she ended up doing as she sat frozen between your legs, eyes flickering between your lewd facial expression and your cunt stretching around the plastic.

Almost a minute had passed and Yachi hadn’t moved an inch, leaving you incredibly needy for stimulation so you found yourself involuntarily jutting your hips against the dildo for the slightest sense of relief - but of course, it was short-lived as Yachi almost immediately snapped out of her trance to grab your waist and hold you in place.

“Don't move. Don’t pretend like you can get off on your own.” she murmured, slowly shifting her hands under your thighs to part your legs further to the point were your hamstrings were burning. 

Slowly but surely, she began rocking her hips back and forth, focussing on keeping her pace consistent rather than speedy while also searching your insides for the sweet spot she was sure to exploit later. 

Although she wasn’t the fastest, the feeling of the dildo’s length rocking against your desperate core along with Yachi’s oddly expert finger movements against your clit was enough to make you whine and plead for more. 

“Yach- Yachi~” you moaned, gripping the bedsheets to cope with the aching in your thighs and the intense amount of pleasure Yachi sent pulsating through you. “Mor--”

You were cut off by Yachi sticking the two fingers, that had previously been working on your clit, straight into your mouth. Obediently, you silenced yourself to instead graciously accept her fingers while she continued to furiously pound into you. 

The last time you had anything close to sexual pleasure in the last 3 months was when you opened a low cabinet and the door swung open and hit your sex, so it shouldn’t be surprising that even with Yachi’s excruciatingly slow pace, you were about to orgasm within barely a minute of her entering you. 

That is, if she let you. 

Once she noticed your breathing become increasingly frantic and your thighs twitching, she realised that you were rapidly approaching your high so she did what any sweet girlfriend would do - she pulled out. 

Your grip on the duvet loosened as your lids fluttered open to reveal your eyes, glossy with tears as you stared innocently up at Yachi - unable to talk due to her finger still in mouth but attempting to communicate how much you need her with your eyes. Even your legs began to oppose her grip so you could use the friction from your thighs to maintain the pleasure slightly. 

Once Yachi noticed your pleading gaze, she simply scoffed, “You thought you could satisfy yourself without me. I’m gonna remind you of how much you truly need me.” Her voice was smooth and honeyed like the most romantic of poets, but the threatening tone in her voice made you shudder - more than you already were.

And she was right. After bringing you to the edge of your high, she’d pull out to leave you begging underneath her - and she’d do this every single time, by now you had lost count as to how many times. 

it worked, though. By perhaps your 5th ruined orgasms, the only thing on your mind was Yachi; she was the one who brought you to your climax so she was the only one who could help you reach it. From the way she’d bob her fingers in your mouth to how her hand was able to leave red marks on the side of your thigh - everything about the way she was in bed as so unlike her yet so hot.

After god-knows how long of being her little, devoted slut, you were finally breath a sigh of relief as the follow chain of words fell from her lips once she noticed you were approaching another orgasm:

“Go on; cum. But you better make it loud for me.”

[ladyspaceradio]

Population: Me + You

Summary: The last thing on Ryders mind was having kids. She didn’t even have a significant other, let alone a romantic interest. However when Tann proposes something to help the colonist with repopulation efforts, asking Ryder to be the forerunner of it, she wasn’t sure how to take it. But now she's got a missing Sage, a grumpy baby daddy, a convention that might change everything, oh and she has to figure out how to tell Evfra he's going to be a father!

Warning: NSFW SMUT

AO3 LINK

                                                 Chapter One

“I’m-I’m sorry can you repeat that?” Ryder sat there stunned, eyes unable to focus on the Asari doctor whose name she couldn’t remember. 

Stepping closer, the doctor placed their hand on Ryder's shoulder. “You’re pregnant, congratulations.” 

Ryder’s head tilted to the side, glazed eyes stared at the asari though she wasn’t exactly seeing her. “I’m...what?” She breathed, mind swirling in chaos not really able to grab on coherent thought. “Pregnant.” The asari spoke slower, softer, there was a frown marring her expression. She probably wondered why the human pathfinder wasn’t jumping for joy. 

She’s gotten it wrong. Ryder clings to that thought. Because she couldn’t be pregnant. Not her. Because if she was-

Not possible. 

“That's not possible.” Ryder sinks deeper into the bed, the white paper sheet crinkles under her. She takes note that the asari is young, not even having her matriarch marks yet.

“You would think,” The asari beamed.  “Andromeda is full of surprises. We’re still looking into what exactly dissolved the blockers. Some think it's a bacteria, but I’ve been looking into those vaults. If they can make planets viable, just imagine what else they can make fertile!” Her excitement starts to dwindle as she studies Ryder’s pale face. “Erm, I’ll go get you a cup of water.”

“I can’t be pregnant.” Ryder slid off the table. Her feet feel light, and head lighter. Something turns in her stomach. “It’s not possible.” “Pathfinder,-” “Your tests are wrong.” She waved a hand. “I can’t be….” She shakes her head. The asari studies her. “If you need proof.” She opens the door to the hallway. “Follow me.”

Ryder stands in the mouth of the doorway, swaying. Her stomach twisted into knots. Lexi would probably say she’s in denial, some psychological trauma from her childhood. But then Lexi wouldn’t be lying to her. 

“Come on.” The asari smiles, it seems false, twisted in Ryders opinion. Perhaps this was just another one of Tann’s tricks. He was the reason she was here to begin with. 

He had contacted her, pestered and nagged her into this. Coming into the clinic to remove her blockers, to be a leading light for colonists to follow. 

“They need comfort to know that it's safe.” Tann folded his spindly fingers, a smile stretched across his leathery skin. “It is your job to lead them down the path of the future.”

The future.

Her eyes dropped to the trashcan by the door, she just might vomit into the bag there. 

“Pathfinder?” The asari dipped her head catching Ryders eye.

Lifting her chin she stepped forward into the dim hallways. 

                                     ----3 weeks earlier-----

The humidity on Aya was a hell of a thing. Paradise that came with a price, already she could feel the droplets of water clinging to her skin. It wasn’t that it was hot, but rather misty. Sighing Ryder ran a hand over her deflated curls and eyed the surrounding Angara celebrating with pride. Their joy, while delightful  to watch, gave her a splitting headache and rattled the teeth in her jaw from the burst of concentrated bioelectricity. This was the reason she chose to sit at the bar. 

And because Evfra was currently nursing another cup of Taavum looking spiteful.

“Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating?” Ryder leans against the bar, her tall cup of Taavum, a lovely smelling angara beverage, cupped between her hands. She knows how potent this stuff can be and has no desire to get drunk tonight. 

So she tilted her head down, letting the red curls cover her face as she studied the obviously displeased angara general who was hunched over his third glass of Taavum dissuading any of his soldiers from coming up and speaking with him. 

“I am.” Short and concise, but his sour face made him look as if he’d been sucking on lemons and not being adored by his people over what they thought was the last Kett ground base on Voeld being defeated. 

“Truly?” Ryder slides into the seat beside him, giving Roaan a small wave across the bar. “And is that true joy I hear ringing in your voice?” She puts her elbows on the counter, angling her body to look at him.

“It is...” He pauses looking at her, the dark blue of his iris look darker against the contrast of the white rofjinn wrapped and his broad shoulders. A gift from the initiative, one Evfra hadn’t enjoyed considering the small initiative logo stitched into the corner. He was likely to wear it tonight only for political gain, and destroy the offending material later. 

A pity considering how handsome he looked in it. 

“Hard.”

She blinks looking into his eyes and away from his physique. More than once Evfra had been a star player in some fantasies she had brewing in her subconscious. “What is hard?” Her voice is low and husky, she does not think he gets the innuendo.

“To believe this war is almost over.” 

Almost

It’s been three years since she killed the Archon. In that time they’ve worked together to build alliance between their people, cultivate a culture of respect and peace, and fuck the kett up so hard they wouldn’t even think of coming back for fear of getting their asses kicked again. 

“Hard to believe I slept over 600 years just to hear you bellyache about my cooking.” She tossed out, feeling a high as the slow releasing alcohol ran through her veins. 

His face contorted in disgust. “Your food is bland, tasteless, and should have been used against the kett.”

“Hey now! I’ll have you know Prime Rib is a delicacy, you should be thanking me for sharing.” She huffed out a small laugh and nudged his foot beneath the counter. “Your people have a future Evfra, and it’s thanks to you.” 

“Our people Ryder.” Evfra reaches over and touches her bare shoulder. She shivers at the power in the one hand that spans over half her back. “This is all possible because of you.”

She licks her lip, tapping the countertop. “And to think, in the beginning you stole all my credit-I’m kidding wipe that look off your face.” He’s not looking at her but rather something behind her. 

Turning her head she surveyed the crowd of angara when her eyes landed on the odd couple drawing everyone attention.  

Tilting her head to the side she watched Evfra observe the woman, who held the hand of a human male. It wouldn’t be such an odd sight except she was heavily pregnant. It seemed all the angara had taken notice. This was a rare sight considering there were delays on the repopulation efforts. Most to do with the fact that colonists wanted safety and security before starting a new family. Another part that so many families had been ripped apart by the war before. 

The woman stopped and smiled at the man who touched his hand to her expansive stomach. 

Ryder hummed softly and peered at Evfra’s face, noticing his eyes were slitted. He looked ready to shoot something. “Something wrong?” There was a noise of disgust that left his lips as he spoke. “Your people do not recluse during late stages of pregnancy?” He turned looking at Ryder, dragging his gaze down her face then form, settling on her stomach. Something fluttered inside her womb at the gaze. 

Or it was the alcohol. 

“Nah, we’re social butterflies.” She picked up her drink, sipping it, taking any excuse to not look at his face. “Not the same for your people, I’m guessing.” Now that she thinks about it she definitely never saw a pregnant angara. 

At least she didn’t think so. She knew that the angara had pouches, and that pups were small. 

“No.” He snarled, lips peeled back, his scar wrinkling under the expression. He turned back to the bar and downed the cup in front of him. 

She waited to see if he said more he just stared at his hands. Silently brooding. 

“I can’t imagine being cooped up.” Ryder swiveled in her chair grinning at the obviously happy pair making their way through the market. “I’d probably put a knife if anyone tried to cage me.”

Evfra snorted. “Like you did the Primus?” He offered. 

She pursed her lips. “Wish I did more to her.” She muttered, taking a gulp of the drink. It had a heady salty taste that ended in a sweet tang. 

Primus had been a Devil, far worse than the Archon since she had not desire to waste time gawking at the Remnant. She was pure evil, seeping a dark claws into Heleus seeking to erase everything but the Kett. 

In the end it had been her pride that led to her demise. She had wanted to see Ryder die by her own hands, for the ‘glory of the Empire.’ 

But there had been no glory in her death as she choked on her own blood watching Ryder stand over her. 

Taking another gulp of the drink, Abigail shook away the memory. Smacking her lips she looked at Evfra. “You ever just think about how you're getting older?” Eyes crinkle in the corner when his face delved into a sour expression.

“No.” 

“L-I-A-R,” She sang angling her body towards him. “You think about it. I think about, we all think about it. Its like waking up one day going, huh my life's half over and what do I have to show for it? A whole lotta nuthin’” She slapped her palm on the table. “Sure I’m the savior of the galaxy but that jazz is worth what?” “Millions of lives.” Evfra offered, looking almost amused as she swayed in her chair.

“Exactly! And do you know how many of those lives I’ve had in my bed?” She threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over her drink, if Evfra hadn’t grabbed it. “Not a one!” She sinks into the counter, both arms stretched out in front of her.

“Why would you want that many in your bed?” Evfra moves her cup to the other side of the bar. 

“I don’t want a million dicks.” Ryder grumbled, lifting her head to glare at him. “I want one. One glorious dick to be my dick forever.” 

“Perhaps you should speak with your doctor about this obsession-” He grunted and caught Ryders flailing hand as it smacked him in the chest.

She stares at her tiny hand in his massive one. Completely swallowed. She shivers at the heat radiating even through the glove. 

“No one needs a Pathfinder anymore.” She murmurs looking up at him. “And what will I do then?”

They’re both silent for a moment before he sighs. “You find something else to occupy your time. Your nose is large enough to be in everyone's business.” He’d seen how she sought out even the little task to perform. Just the other day she stopped to show a recruit how to take apart a milky way gun. 

“I have a beautiful nose.” She grunted looking at him, said nose wrinkled. Much to Evfra’s annoyance however her eyes began to mist over. “Why can’t anyone recognize that?” Her bottom lip jutted out starting to quiver. 

Evfra cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with this situation. “Your nose is the right fit for your face.” He offered.

“Really?” Ryder squeaked looking up at him. “I thought it was too big.” She touched her face and sagged. 

His hand touched her jaw, turning her to look at him. “You are perfect.”

Three words. Three simple words that came from the most unlikeliest of people. 

Ryder stared at him even after he pulled his hand back and looked away. He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable from her silence or her staring. 

“You're handsome.” She blurts as he starts to speak, her declaration silencing him. He turns to look at her, eyes roaming over her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “You are drunk.” He decides with a sigh. “I will call the tempest and have Jaal fetch you.”

“I’m not drunk.” Ryder pushed her thick hair back. “I’m high on liquid courage.” She smiles at him, though she is inclined to think she might be drunk when her mouth continues to spew thoughts from her brain. “I always thought you were handsome. Scar really adds to the good looks.” She nibbles her lips looking at him now, eyes tracing along the scar.

How many times had she fantasized kissing those twin lines that defined his features. Oh how she pictured nibbling them down to his lips that looked so plump that she knew they would cradle her own against them. 

Ryder shuddered leaning forward. He’s studying her expression when she reaches over, laying a hand on his muscular thigh.

“If you weren’t so walled off, Evfra, I’d almost suggest we hook up.” Ryder wiggles her brows.

He lets out a soft snorting chuff, his hand grabs hers and pulls it away before it could wander up to the crux of his thighs. “I think you’ve had enough.” He rasps in a husky tone, one that makes her thighs clench together as heat floods her core. “I will walk you back to your ship.” He slides out of the seat in a smooth motion that makes her head a bit dizzy.

“No thanks,” She jerks her arm out of his grip. “I don’t….I don’t want to go back there.” She curled an arm around her waist. “It’s lonely.”

They had come to Aya for more than this celebration, she’d come to say goodbye to Jaal as he and Avale were uniting their families and starting a life together. Just a few months prior Drack had left as well to be with Kesh and her second clutch of baby Krogan. Peebee had one foot out the door, Ryder could feel everyday she was itching for more than what the Tempest was doing. She knew that their time together wasn’t forever, but watching her family drift apart little by little was harder than she expected. 

Evfra was silent as she slumped down in her seat, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Let me crash at the resistance.” She grumbled.

“That isn’t something I can do.” He took hold of her arm again, and she allowed herself to be tugged out of the chair, though she misjudged the distance from her seat to the ground and landed directly into his chest with a soft  ‘oomf.’

His hand settled on the back of her neck, the other holding her arm ran down to cup her hip. She looked up at him, breath caught in the back of her throat. She was pressed tightly to his chest, breast molding to the hard plains of his, nipples stiffening as she felt a knot of arousal bubbling in her stomach. 

Gasping she watched his nose wiggle, eyes slitting as he bent his head. “You’re…”

She doesn’t think about it, in the future she’ll blame the alcohol running through her system, and the mix of Evfra’s heady scent, but she lunges, cutting off his words, smashing her mouth against his in a teeth clicking kiss that is more pain then pleasure. 

Evfra hisses, hand on her neck tangles with her hair, pulling her head back. Her lip is busted and bleeding, eyes glazed. Ryder sucked in a breath, her last bit of dignity began to shrivel as her hazy mind grasped at the lingering sanity pointing out she just kissed Evfra De Tershaav and likely ruined any type of friendship they have built over the past 4 years. 

“Evfra,” She twisted in his hold, hands pushing on his chest. “I’m-“

Her wobbly tone cut off as he bend his head, brushing his mouth against her nose, down her cheek, and ghosted over her lips. “You are too impatient, Ryder.” His husky tone sent a thrill down her spine that settled in her stomach. 

She tilted her head back trying to catch his mouth. She mewled softly when he pulled away.

“Not here.” He tugged her into his side tucking her against him, chuffing softly.

He doesn’t seem to mind her wandering hands this time. In fact she can hear the faintest sound of a purr thrumming deep in his chest. She almost calls him a pussy she’s willing to stroke when he suddenly tugs her off the main road and presses her up against the wall. 

Massive hands span over her hips as he dips his head towards hers. Letting out a sigh as their lips touch, he takes control keeping her head tilted with a fist in her fiery hair. He laps at the seam of her lips, but doesn’t go deeper despite her wiggling and whimpers of protest. 

“I’m starting to think you enjoy torturing me.” She gasp fingers curling around the straps laying against his chest. Her body’s pressed against his, hips grinding into his front. She makes needy keens in the back of her throat.

“Are you always this impatient Ryder?” He chuckles against her skin, lips igniting a fire beneath them.

“Call me Abigail, Evfra.” She panted against his mouth. She hadn’t the will power to extract herself from those delectable lips. Oh how she pictured kissing him! The reality blew all those lusty fantasies away. She made a wanton noise in the back of her throat as he nibbled her bottom lip. 

“Ahbee-gal” He purrs against her ear. The reverberating sound of his voice sends twings of pleasure down her spine, settling at her contracting core. He inhales deeply, chuckling at her reaction. “I’m going to ravish you.”

“Oh god yes!” She mewls  digging her fingers into his rofjinn, tugging to bring him back to her. 

He laughs, a deep throat thrum that she’s never heard before. If she had been more clear headed and less horny she would try desprately to remember the sound. Though that isn’t what is keeping her focus at the moment while ehr hands trail southward. Not that they get very far when the wall behind her suddenly disappears. 

Letting out a small wail, she nearly tumbles down to her ass if Evfra hadn’t snatched her waist. 

“Rude!” She huffed, craning her neck back to stare at the room behind her. Not that she can see much through the dim interior lighting. What she can see is a spare room filled with only the essentials. 

Of course her mind isn’t on the surrounding area long when a hot mouth presses to her shoulder sucking the the flesh there. 

“Clothing off.” She mewls hands tugging at his shirt trying to magic it off him with each tug. Why did angara clothing have so many buckles! Ryder begins to pout at the sight, muttering dark words about forbidden treasures being locked away. 

Chuffing in amusement he gently extracts her hands. “Let me.” His fingers make dizzly fast work of all the buckles and clasps. 

Hands free she starts work on her own clothing, while following Evfra as he tugs off his Rofjinn. Of course wanting to be naked soon as possible she attempts to take the shirt off without properly unbuttoning it first. 

Ryder stumbled into the bedroom door, her arms caught up in the sleeves as she tried to rip off the blouse she wore. She could hear Evfra huffing at her. Grinning she shimmied out of her shirt and tossed it onto the floor and wiggled a brow at him. 

“I would say your seduction talents needs some work.” He stated dryly folding the rofjinn and setting it aside. 

Licking her bottom lip she greedily drank in the sight of him shirtless, taking in his broad chest to his tampered waist. She especially appreciated the hard muscles that moved beneath his deep blue skin. Letting out a groan she moved toward him, hands out stretched to touch his skin. 

Catching her small hand by the wrist, Evfra let out a soft chuffing sound. “What happed to undressing?” He lifted her wrist and kissed the racing pulse beating beneath the skin. 

“I got caught up wanting to touch this perfection.” She whispered, swallowing back the saliva that built in her mouth. 

“Mmm.” He nips her skin before letting her go. “Are all humans so easily distracted or is it just you?” 

She let out an indignant huff. “Oh no it’s just me when there’s a particularly inviting male….” She steps closer, hands on his stomach stroking up and down grinning as his muscles contracted at the touch. “Needing to be stroked.”

He had scars across his skin, faded blue colors, almost white. She couldn’t resist leaning in and licking the one across his ribs. He let out a shuddering purr and yanked her into his chest. 

“Abigail.” Her name is a deep groan that leaves his mouth. 

And then he was kissing her again. Tongue sliding against her own, tangling together as his palmed her heavy breast. The skin of his palm sends electrical current through her breast, making her nipples stiffen and pleasure rock down to the clenching of her core.

Abigail moans against his mouth, enjoying the feeling of his touch too much to even notice when it became skin to skin contact. Until he breaks their kiss to pull away the tattered remains of her bra off her body. 

“Did you just he-man my bra off?” She spread her fingers against his chest, using his imposing unmoving form to steady herself. She thinks the alcohol has hit her system. She feels all warm and tingling. There’s a heat that starts in her stomach and pulses down. 

“I am unsure of your word,” He presses his mouth to her throat sucking on the skin there. “But yes, I did just rip that flimsy fabric.” He licked at the hollow of her throat, paying special attention to her jumping pulse. “I will buy you another, better, one.” 

“Mmm.” She tilted her head back, fuzzy brain can’t really focus on his words only on the sensation of his mouth making a path up her throat to her jaw, then his breath ghosted against her ear.

“Hold onto me.” He lifted her hands to his shoulders. And before her bogged mind could grasp his order he hefted her up, with one arm, wrapped around her ass. 

Squealing she hooked her thighs around those slim hips, pressing her heated core against his side. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation of his hip brushing against the wet crux between her thighs. 

Silencing her soft mewling noises he dropped her to the bed suddenly making a shriek leave her lips as she bounced against the mattress. Propping herself up on her elbows Abigail huffed at him, glaring up at his smirk. “Evf-”

Suddenly bending he grabbed the legs of her pants and yanked. Dragging them off her hips, along with her underwear. Which was left dangling of her ankle as he tossed her pants aside. They were less than flattering being the initiative issued clothing. A bland cotton cloth that  as Liam described  it, were ‘whitie tighties.’ 

If she had known the night would have gone differently she would have gotten her her red thong-

These thoughts abruptly disintegrated as Evfra lifts her ankle, looping a finger through one of the leg holes and holds the pair of plain undies up.

He drank in her scent with huffing breathes, large hands gripping the thin strip of clothing covering her soaked core. He growled as she let out a soft noise of disapproval. 

With a fangy smirk he lifted the soaked cloth to his nose. “Sweeter than pairpo.” Evfra purred, licking the panties then dropping them to finish ridding himself of his own pants. 

Abigail's eyes were glued to the movements, watching the fabric slide down his hips, lower and lower until Evfra was completely revealed to her. 

Lips parted in surprise, she stared at his cock. It was a darker blue and violet color, speckled with white across the underside of the shaft. He was thick and similar to a human male: if you didn’t count the fluttering ridges, the tapered head and bulbous base. The thing that shocked her and had her inching up the bed was that is was writhing against his stomach as if it had a mind of its own. 

Abigail didn't get to study him much before he grabbed her ankles and pulled her forward to the edge of the bed. 

Kissing each ankle Evfra placed the on his elbow, spreading her wide open for him like a flower blooming in spring. His eyes glued to her flushed skin. Pupils dilated, lips curled upward, he made a low snarling sound. 

Abigail flushed shifted against the bed feeling utterly vulnerable being spread before him like a feast. Which is how he was looking at her. She could even see him drag his tongue across his lower lip. 

“I must look alien to you.” She whispered self-conscious of her nudity. She curled an arm over her breast and sucked on her bottom lip. 

“You are….” He swallowed audibly, drawing his gaze from her pink cunt to her eyes. “Beautiful.” He purred, kneeling between her thighs. “I have never seen anything close to you.” 

“I’ve been curious,” his tone has taken a raspier note. The ‘r’s of his words dragged out in a sound that makes her shiver.  Warm hands drag along her thighs. Her muscles quiver in anticipation as he settled between her parted legs and inhales. 

Mewling she arches into him, head tossing back and forth in frustration. She wants him to touch her-why wasn’t he touching her. 

“Your kinds coupling is violent,” He strokes a hand down her skin. Petting her with the lightest touches on her stomach, hips, arms. But no where she WANTS him to touch. 

There is a tiny thought that wonders at what he’s seen to make such a judgement but it’s swept away in the tidal wave of arousal beneath his gentle touches. 

“Please!” Ryder keens softly her own hands trail up her body cupping the gentle slopes of her breast. 

He watches her but does nothing to end her torment as he speaks with slow decisive touch’s over her skin. “Your softer than any Angara I’ve been with.” As if to emphasize this point he groped the fat of her hips. She sighs as the touch, undulating beneath him. “I will not take you as your people do.” He bends tongue drags across the divot of her hip bone up the planes of her stomach. 

“Don’t care!” She cries out pinching her nipple watching him taste her skin with small licks traveling up her body. Everything throbs at the sight. She can feel herself spasm with need, a yearning to feel him slip between her thighs, to fill her to the edge of pain. To fuck her into this mattress till she can no longer move. 

“Evfra!”

He smirks leaning over her. “Responsive.” He stops her hands gathering both wrist. “Much better then the vids.” He murmurs softly against the swell of her breast. She’s holding her breath, nearly vibrating with wanton need.

A small thought bubbles in the back of her mind, that she’s edging the point of no return. That this was going to be a bad idea that spirals into a pit of despair if she didn’t stop. But that little bubble popped the moment his tongue sweeps out against her pert nipple. 

Crying out she arches into him, hands twist in the hold that has them. “Sensitive.” He growled lapping at the pink nub, circling it with the tip of his blunt tongue. Her toes curl at the feeling, his tongue had a texture to them and seemed to vibrate against the peak of her breast. 

He nibbled down the slope of her puffy breast, switching to lavish the other with attention. 

“I like how soft you are.” He growls squeezing and molding the breast to the palm of his hand. “How incredibly soft.” His mouth seals of the taunt peak, making her arch up into the sucking of his hot mouth.

He’s making a wet slurping sound while he suckles the peak of her nipple. His hand spanning her ribs moves down her side, cupping her rear that is pressed against his clavicle bone, which she’s been rutting unconsciously again.

She let out a moan as his finger slid along her cunt. He let out a rumble, seemingly surprised at how wet she was. Abandoning her breast with gentle kisses he travels down her stomach. Stopping to lavish attention to each of her small scars, freckles, and stretch marks. He grins at her as he nibbles her hip bone.

“Your scent is driving me wild.” He noses her red curls purring when she jerks against his hold. “It always drives me wild.” He lets out huffs parting her lips and stares at the pink clutch dripping with arousal. “I have longed to taste.”

“E-evfra.” Abigail wiggles in his hold, mind hazy with arousal. She mewls, trembling in anticipation. He seems to be taking his time savoring her scent that has her flushing with embarrassment. That doesn’t last long when he opens his mouth and licks along her slit with a decisive stroke. 

She mewls softly, hips jerking against his mouth. His spans a hand against her stomach, keeping her in place while his tongue makes feather soft touches across her cunt. It was light and gentle touches that were driving her wildly mad.

Thighs kept spread with his shoulders, he had full control of her body. She let out a deep cry, body shuddering. “Evfra!” She grabs his sheets jerking up into his mouth, trying to grind into him. 

He lets out a purr, vibrating that tongue against her clit that sends her spiralling down. Eyes rolling back as a slow building orgasm trickles into her system. Every muscle in her body quivers beneath the slow lazy licks of his tongue. Gasping, her knees fall open, hips ground up into his mouth. Rocking in time with his broad strokes. 

“Evfra, Evfra evfra.” She chants feeling the burn of overstimulation but she can’t stop rocking into him, can’t stop the second orgasm building as he audibly gulps at her cream. She lets out a sharp yelp when he presses a thick, blunt, finger into her weeping entrance. 

“Look at how you grasp me.” He purrs. “Greedy.” He sinks his finger deeper into her swollen, pink, clutch. Cooing at the way she grips his digit. Like a hungry mouth suckling him back in. 

Moaning, her head tossed side to side as he filled her up, opening her wide with slick wet noises as he moved his finger inside of her. It had been a long dry season since she last been with a man. At the moment she couldn’t even remember it, only what Evfra was doing to her body as he shifted pulling her hips higher. 

Nibbling her outer lip he thrust his finger deeper, both groaning as he did. “So soft.” He rasped. “How can any male leave this body.” His eyes met hers. “I’m going to make you sing for me.” 

Singing wasn’t what she felt her throat was doing. Opera more like it as she shrieked at the powerful orgasm that made her body arch and clench. She practically bowed off the bed while her vision went dark. All the while she could feel him still working his finger deeper into her cunt while loudly licking up the cum dripping out of her. 

“Stars.” He rasped  looking at her flushed body and shaking limbs. 

Abigail certainly felt like she saw stars as she went limp against the mattress. Her body jerked against him as he withdrew his finger. Drowsiness edged into her consciousness as she stretched languid. 

Of course two orgasms later and Evfra was nowhere near done with her. He chuckled as he kissed up her body, saying hello to the girls before he was fully looming over Ryder. 

“I hope you aren’t about to fall asleep.” He nudged his nose against her chin, urging her thighs to wrap around his waist. 

“Mmm.” Ryder cracked an eye open suddenly far more awake as something rolled against her sensitive lips. Breath hitched when he nudged her entrance with the head of his cock. 

“Oh!” SHe gasped as the odd sensation of being filled by something that wasn’t entirely human. 

Thighs quivering against his hips, she attempted to roll away from the burrowing entity that was Evfra’s cock, only to feel the first set of ridges slip into her and go completely still. She was instantly melting into a puddle of pleasure as they rowed against the walls of her. Especially tickling her g-spot. Making her clench around him with a groan. 

Scar wrinkled he closed his eyes holding her hips, soft a mewling noise left his throat. “Stars.” He looked down at her then, eyes slitted. “The way you grip me…” He rubbed the mark he left on her skin, breathing hard. 

Drool was dribbling out of her mouth while she gazed up at Evfra, hips rolling against the thick cock. Toes curling, heels digging into his back to spur him on. But Evfra seemed determined to drive her mad. He moved in a slow pace, until he was completely sheathed within her warmth. 

“Tight.” He growled against her skin, he was making many marks against her collarbone, sinking his fangs into the yielding skin. Ryders own nails were clawing at his back as she felt the bulbous base popping into her cunt. 

“Evfra!” She cried so sweetly, tears leaking out of her eyes as he began to pull out of her at the same slow pace. He could feel her climax as he pushed in, feeling the way her walls clenched and pulsed, beckoning him to seed her. 

How he thought of her swollen with his child, like the human he saw before. His lips peeled back in the though as he pulled her hips flush against his, sinking into her depths. A hand span up between the valley of her bouncing breast and lay over her vunerable throat. 

She gasped, tilting her head back giving his hand more room as he cupped her throat, thumb stroking over her racing pulse. She murmured how she couldn’t give him another one. But she would-oh she would cum again on his cock, and he would fill her womb with his seed. And once she was limp beneath him he would slide down her body to taste their coupling, coax yet another orgasm from her. 

Maybe then he would let her rest, but he would spend the night between her thighs.

“You’re a treasure.” He bent over her, hips gliding along her thighs, sticking to the steady pace. Those ridges rubbed against her walls. He can feel the tells of his own climax coming as the ridges began to row, seeking to interlock with a female angara’s grooves. They would become thicker as he climaxed, ensure that none of his seed escaped. 

He watched as Abigail’s green eyes widen at the feeling, her wet lips parting with a soft ‘Oh!’ as a shudder rocks her body. She orgam’s against him, he can feel her soak him as a wordless cry escapes her. He growls bending down to capture her lips, sinking deep into her cunt as spurts of his seed coat her womb.

-----Present-----

She chewed on her nail, biting into the skin but not breaking it. 

How did one tell the grumpy resistance leader that his one night stand led to a new life? 

She hadn’t even seen Evfra since then. Much less spoke to him. Her hands threaded together behind her head as she let out a low sigh staring at the screen of the empty email. Twice she started typing, both started with an apology neither made past the second sentence. She wanted to be a coward, send him an email, throw the proverbial ball at him and wait. 

Turning in her chair she pulled out the glossy black and white photo. Though it was hard to discern what exactly the picture was, she could make out the small pea like blobs in the photo as her children. 

Multiple...

She shuddered, a sour taste filled her mouth, her stomach rolled. Taking gulping breathes she warded off the nausea. Apparently the Doctor, Y’lusia, Sara remembered her name after leaving, said she was in 10  weeks along. Funny considering she’d slept with Evfra 3 weeks ago. But Ryder hadn’t said a word, just numbly taken the photo. 

Y’lusia informed her that she would be sending the file over to Lexi, who was her main doctor, but thought it best for her to set up another appointment at the clinic to see a specialist. She wouldn’t be returning to that clinic, Ryder thinks with a bitter expression. 

It was a shame Lexi was attending the Nexus seminars at the moment, and Harry was acting at the Tempest replacement. 

Gave her plenty of time to avoid, ignore, this predicament a little longer.

::Ryder, Director Tann wishes to speak with you.:: SAM popped up at his router, to the left of her elbow. She let out a low noise of discomfort thinking about talking to him.

“Any way I can put him off?” She leaned back into the chair, putting the ultrasound photo into a draw where it was to be forgotten for a time. ::I can tell him you are occupied with personal matters.:: SAM offered. 

“Uuuugh no,” She stood and pulled her hair back into a bun. “It will only make matters worse.” She stood and looked at the Orb. “How do I look?” ::Like Abigail Ryder.::

She snorted softly. “Remind me to have Jaal teach you some sauve lessons SAM.’ She took a few breaths shaking her hands out. “Maybe I should change.” She glanced down at her sweat stained sleepshirt. She hadn’t bothered dressing, as there was no one needing her attention. They’d just gone to Eos, dropping Peebee off. 

It had been a sad, and regretfully sober, party for Ryder. While Peebee bounced around the remaining tempest crew wishing them good tidings, Abigail had been preoccupied with thoughts of what her future was now going to look like. 

Groaning she tugged her shirt off and ambled over to her messy wardrobe. She shifts and sniffs each article till she finds a decent one and tugs it on. It's here she glances at the mirror and frowns as the material stretches thin across her abdomen. A hand settles across the swelling between her hips. 

Letting out a slow sigh she turns away from the mirror quickly and heads to the door. 

She is lucky that she can play it all off on the removal of the blockers for the time being.  

“Ryder,” Tann’s eyes blinked one just slower than the other. Abigail tilted her head to the side, was it old age? Perhaps he was having a silent seizure. She almost wanted to call a doctor just to end this meeting.

“Tann.” She says his name in a slow draw, blinking her eyes one just slower than the other. 

“I see you have gone into the clinic, I will be setting up a meeting for you on Nexus, we’ll get this ball rolling. Addison will be in touch shortly, she’s eager to begin this campaign. The colonist need something to look towards.” His babbling seemed to cause the spiking ache behind her eyes. One that had her stomach turning. “Mmm.” Ryder replied, rubbing her temple. “I’ll be stopping at Aya first.” She had to speak with baby-babies-daddy about something. 

Like the very impeding existence of being a baby daddy.

“That’s perfect! I’ll send the reporters there,” Her stomach drops as she tries to speak but Tann prattles on regardless of her protest.  “Good scenery, the angara are good place to start. Being all about family as they are. It will be a good start, very good Ryder,” She wonders if good was the only vocabulary he knew when he waves his hand in a wide arch.  “I will let Addison know. Tann out.” 

Then he was gone, and she was left there, feeling bamboozled. 

How did my life become this?

She sucked in a sharp breath a gurgle logged in the back of her throat and she stumbled away from the vid coms racing to the crosswalk where she jumped down and shoved Liam out of the way. 

“Hey!” He hollered. “I have to piss.” 

Ryder didn’t answer as she bent over the sink and vomited.

“Never mind.” He backed out of the bathroom and turned away.

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